24th Winter 521 AV - Alric's Shack Waking was a slow process and it took a good ten chimes of him unsticking his eyes, blinking away the sleep and rubbing away the tiredness, before the room finally swam into view. There were a few moments where the memories of the previous day flashed through his skull and he sat bolt upright in the cot he called a bed, tugging off his glove and finding that there was, indeed, a glowing symbol there. He went over the memories again a few times, both fascinated and terrified in equal measure, before he sighed and slumped is back into the wall. Raking his fingers back through his hair he licked his lips, eyes going from side to side as if reading an invisible script before, finally, slipping his glove back on and pushing himself up to his feet. Looking around he saw the shack he called home was much the same, the furniture was set right once more, and everything was where it should be. He shook his head at the fancies of the divines and set about laying the wood and shaving the tinder for the fire before striking the flint and steel, blowing gently when the initial sparks took, and adding a heavier log when it was crackling away enough to take it. He took a few chimes to thumb in some tobacco to his pipe and light it, sucking it in gladly and with a sigh as it helped ease his frayed nerves. He grabbed the cup he had used for his magical experimentations and placed it in the middle of the table again. “Visits from Eyris or not, I can’t afford to lose days when I’ve already lost years” he muttered to himself as he sat in his chair and turned it to face the table, for when he decided to summon up the courage to begin. As he sat and enjoyed his pipe, he went over her words to him, all of them clearly remembered as if her very presence had imprinted the whole day into his mind – never to be forgotten. He could remember the softness, and yet the strength behind the features, of her face, so similar to him mother’s. Her aura, had he dared to look upon it, would probably have blinded him. He had had the sense of her warping the very room around him, her power and nature deeply changing both him and his destiny. He wasn’t yet fully sure to what end, or how he felt about it. But he did know that on this morning the fact that he was about to practise magic was something he acknowledged without that barb of self-hatred deep within his chest. “If she thinks I should do these things then why should I hate the fact that I do them? And, if my ancestors were not all bad doesn’t that mean that I could be better? Or, at least, not bad?” he mused to himself around his pipe. He decided to finish his pipe and let it further soothe his nerves before he tried to start any magic. Looking through the slats of his shutters he saw he had about half a day before his shift would start – plenty of time to get some attempts in, fill his belly and nap a little before heading to the bedazzling allure that was Ruby’s. Still, he felt he needed to centre himself somewhat, feeling a little off from the previous day, and so suited that feeling by closing his eyes and seeking out that peaceful ‘well’ at the centre of his being – the lake and mountains, forests and stars, always peaceful places for him, even when he had the strongest of reservations. |