[Flashback:Solo]The Slum: Candelabras and Consequences

[Antar]

-7th day of spring 511av "OOC:"Note this is a thread for developing a character's Reimancy. If fire, and small steps of pyromania are boring to you- I advise going someplace else , otherwise read on.

It was an easy place to be, here in the far off slums in a small courtyard to the side of one of the alleyways. The cobblestones of the area were roughshod, yet thick. The area sparse of any vegetation , and the place hemmed in by a stone wall which kept it clear of any prying eyes.

Noth had come to this place for one reason.

It was a good place to practice and learn control of the fire's within himself. And deal with the memory of how he had once been awakened under the cruelest of measures. It had been at the behest of a client's insistence for a 'job well done.' By the gods if he had known how treacherous the world of magic was he was stepping into he would have declined, even though his old master wasn't the type you decline anything from.

Antar had left the places he had once been, to forge out on his own. Taking a new name, new identities as they were needed. And now, here in Sunberth he'd found a precious bit of time to relax and hide as one red fish in the midst of a school of red fish. Noth knew his past would one day catch up to him, and for that, he needed to be prepared...

In the center of square lay the remnants of wall from an old stone well long since dried up. Upon its lip were several candles he'd placed there for the sole purpose of practicing his task today. A task which he knew would dredge up the horrid memories, of that mage who had lain tortured and broken to his master's whims.

A mage who was forced to provide the beginning spark to any whom the Master required to provide services to for his 'clients'.

The day was already hot, but Antar knew it was about to get hotter as he remembered the cuts above his shoulder blades and the stigmata forced upon his hands. Cuts where the res had creeped into his body, choking him with pain and horror as his body protested the intrusion, and for a moment his mind was transported back to that day...

[Antar]

He figured it had to have been around the time before he completed the job on the nobleman, stealing the necklet from the nobleman's daughter.

The job after that hadn't gone so well. He'd lost track of a bard that had been sticking their nose into something they shouldn't and the master had been... displeased. It had been a cold day, that much he remembered, the night had been bleak and he'd been dragged after having his head dunked in water, and a burlap sack thrown over his head.

He'd been taken to a small courtyard , much like the one he was in now, save it was grimy and covered in soot. The Master had been there, and so had his pet mage.

A man so horribly disfigured, and physically frail that the boss' own people had been scared of him. Called him by several names, but mainly those that were indicative that he was one of the walking dead. Or as good as worthless. Noth himself hadn't known why the mage had bent one knee to the master's whims. Perhaps there was a form of dependence between the two, a state of symbiosis that would require the Master to keep the mage's parasitic tastes fulfilled.

Noth didn't know, all he knew was that the one eyed mage was hideously scarred and dressed in a black robes that seemed to cling to his body like shadows. The Master had simply watched as Noth had been beaten some more for his failure, before instructing the other agents to hold him still. Taking a knife in hand, the Master had walked behind him to shallowly cut two deep notches in the flesh of his back, and then stabbed the blade through both of his palms.

He hadn't cried out in pain, Noth remembered that much. Antar knew to protest meant death, his death and that if he wanted to survive the spymaster's wrath he had to endure. So endure he did... up until the master had gestured towards the mage, and a thick oily mist began to curl from the man's clothes before it made its way towards him. Choking him, and bringing pain the likes of which he'd never imagined to wrack his body.

That was when he cried out, and he didn't stop screaming until he lost all consciousness. When he awoke, the Master had stood in front of him, and had given him a new job to complete. A simple delivery. That had been fine with him, Noth knew better to disagree with the job.

Noth knew better now then to disagree with any job at that point. His life was in the master's hands, like a small flame which could be snuffed out at the twitch of a whisker.

That job had been completed, and Antar had returned, but he knew the day was fast approaching when he would not. He'd known his long term chances of having a life of his own lay within finding himself a new place, far removed from the land's of the North. A way to gain time, and hone his skills before the final reckoning with those who had sheltered and trained him after being a young boy on the streets.

It was just a matter of training, that was all.

And the very first thing, Noth knew he had to do: was tame what the mage had placed within him... a power he had not consented, nor asked for. But a weapon, he would one day turn against those who had fashioned its making.

[Antar]

Power of the Damned.

That was what people Antar knew felt about mages. The moment they took a personal magic, they only chose in that moment how they would die. Either slowly, or quick as the magic inside them literally ate them alive over the years.

But for Noth, there was not a choice he preferred to ponder, nor one he made himself. So he would do the next best thing. He would find a way to keep control. Use the magic, and djed, only as a last resort in any situation and keep it as secret as possible to all those he met.

That was his decision, in a world where he never had been graced to make a decision before. And the first thing to do, was to understand the basics. The spymaster's minions had provided him with the basics, now it was time to develop his skills a little more and fashion a means of controlling that which was at heart uncontrollable.

To begin, he sat cross legged on the hard stone, his eyes staring at the candles on the well's sill and his mind pictured what he wanted his djed to do. He pictured the res, coming from his hands, clear, and odorless, and his body trembled as a small amount leaked out of the stigmata pierced upon his palm. With his mind he wondered what to do with it, letting the res pool a tiny bit within his cupped hand as he pondered for a moment, just breathing normally before he called it back into his body to become absorbed once again.

He was taking small steps now, trying to learn which was which, and what the best way was forwards, like a child stumbling over their first steps.

Without further ado, he mustered the djed again, this time gathering less then a teaspoon of the colorless substance and set it floating slightly above his index finger as he pointed it at the candles set up in front of him.

The very first thing he pondered was that he approved of the tenet that the least waste meant the greatest gain. The greatest accuracy, meant the least costs to him down the road. So pulling the res to the tip of his finger, he ignited the outer most layer and threw it with his mind as he aimed towards the setup candles.

Like any idiot doing something he hadn't done in a long time, Noth missed, and the spinning flame impacted against the stone walls of the courtyard behind his target before falling to the ground, the elemental nature of the flames already spent with all sources of fuel denied to them.

Inhaling deeply, he pondered what went wrong as Noth factored how to better improve his aim...

[Antar]

As an archer, Aiming was a very important principle to him.

It was a principle which went hand in hand with control, and there was only two ways he could figure out how to improve his aim, with such small fireballs.

The first solution was a risky venture, to increase the size of the fireball and allow the impending increase in the diameter give him a better chance of hitting the target. This option was probably the most appealing to anyone who had just found out they could burn something, or someone threatening them to bits of flaky ash. But he had a different ideology, if he had to as a last resort, he was sure he'd call up the biggest fireball to fling at someone if need be if it was a matter of living now or dying later.

But that to him, left him feeling off kilter for some reason. Like the very idea might leave a bad taste in his mouth. It was far better for him to find out how to control small amounts, to make them hotter and fiercer in their flame to stop something coming at him in a fight instead of enveloping them in a wash of fiery heat.

Noth smirked a little as his sense of humor lent him to the obvious drawbacks of the situation: calling up too much fire seemed a surefire way of roasting his own petard.

And he wasn't about to make that same mistake, he'd prefer to stay within the lines of which he could control. To widen his boundaries at an even and steady pace, he figured he'd have to train himself to be conscious of his limits and limitations.

Concentrating again, he let the res flow, bringing a teaspoon sized ball to hover over the tip of his finger before he ignited the exterior. It was a slow process each time, but Antar figured in time, as he worked harder such things would improve, and he wouldn't need a full twenty seconds of preparation in between each small bolt. With his mind and eyes focused on the target, he threw it with his mind pointing it towards the candle's tip again, this time adjusting how it 'felt'.

This was the second solution, improving his technique in a slow manner, tediously concentrating on small gains to his control before branching off to control larger dimensions of fire. He figured this time his aim would cause the fireball to fall like an arrow did when he released it from his bow hoping it's path would bring it to just light the tip of the candle's.

And to his amazement he was right, the small fiery projectile hit, but not as Noth intended it to.

Instead the fireball struck the base of the candle near the well, causing the wax to melt as the candle was flung farther back as the fire crashed against the rocky well, dissipating harmlessly as the element was once again denied fuel.

[Antar]

With a bit of a sigh, Antar got up from where he was perched and dusted his trousers off before taking a closer look at where his last fireball had been shot. Looking at where it impacted, Noth drew a marked notch on the well rock to note where the bottom of the bolt had struck before replacing the now half destroyed candle back in its place.

There were others setup on the well wall, but he didn't want to waste them. So for the next fireball he sat where he had been, concentrating a teaspoon's worth of res like he had before, and this time sending it arcing towards the candle half which remained. This time, the fireball arced in the proper path he envisioned for it. His eye’s saw the fireball’s passage deftly lighting the wick which remained burning as a testament to his small progress.

Noth let it burn and concentrated again upon the well's sill, noting the other candles there, aligned roughly along the circle's edge as he reviewed what he had done before.

Small fireballs, thrown in passable straight lines was all he’d accomplished so far. So Noth concentrated slowly, calling up flames as he took aim and threw again. Out of five more small shots he gained three new candles to alight, and two of his throws were missses.

Disappointing really... he needed accuracy above all, not power.

Getting up he snuffed out all the candles with a lick of his finger and a deft snuffing of the wicks before sitting back down again. For Noth's next round, he concentrated on aiming again. This time, lighting five of the candles out of the six tries. Taking time to steady his mental aim and improve his technique.

The third time, he summoned two small balls of res, one to each hand, and began to experiment if he might throw them both at once. This didn't work out too well, as one vastly spun out of control to wash against the stonework of the courtyard, while the other missed his second target horribly before dissipating against the far wall.

Antar took several deep breaths to calm himself and consider what just went on. Noth was trying his best to stay within his limits- using the smallest amounts for the best gains of what he envisioned to do in his tasks. This was practice, and he'd heard the dangers of overpracticing.

For the moment, the man decided against experimenting with more than one single ball of res at a time. Considering that he didn’t possess the concentration enough to determine the course of more than one at a time for now he took a few moments to stare up at the sky beyond the courtyard’s walls.

Antar lay that way for a while, merely musing on things as he let his mind rest and drift. The mind was like any muscle is what that mage had said. It was best to let it rest as you considered the next step after flexing any form of magical might.

After his break since he was getting better at using very small amounts of res Antar decided the next task since he had gained the ability to propel the res with some accuracy in straight lines, would be to control the arc of the curve, for as long as possible. Like how one as an archer would 'lead' a target, he knew before the res exited his zone of control, he'd have to factor out just how much he could alter it's course.

But that was the next main problem, he first small problem Noth could see was a smaller quandary he'd have to consider. How Antar might establish just how far his 'area' he could effect the res would be.

To this end, he had an idea.

First, he would set up the candles in varying intervals in a line in front of him, and then duplicate their widths to the sides. And finally upon the directions diagonal to himself.

These lines would then roughly form a series of concentric circles about his body. It would be his job, to move the ball of res as far as it could go, while it still burned to tell just how far he could control it, lighting the candles as it passed to let him judge distances better. With albeit care, he took the twenty seconds to draw out the res into the most compact ball he could make a teaspoon of, roughly the size of a small rock or pebble one might find on the road and brought its exterior to light at the edge of his fingers.

With his mind, he let the res burn slowly... counting time in heartbeats until the core fizzled out in roughly about ten seconds.

That meant he had ten seconds of time to manipulate its course, after over half a minute of preparation. Noth surmised he might get a fireball to burn longer and longer with more res he added to it, but that wasn't his goal right now. Right now, he was approaching this matter logically with using roughly the same 'dose' of res each time so as not to tire himself out.

Working with larger amounts would come later, he knew that. So he dismissed any thoughts of speeding up the process at this point. Haste made wasted energy, and from the snippets of knowledge he had gained on reimancy- wasted energy was likely to make one dead.

So he curbed the idea of taking the easy way out once more and called the golf ball sized ball of res back to the top of his hand. With a deft touch of thought, he brought the exterior into flames once again and began forcing his mind to move it. Not quickly as he had before while throwing the flame to light the candles. But rather he went about the task slowly, letting the res burn as he brought it farther and farther away from his body towards the nearest candle in a straight line he'd set up about an arm and a half lengths away.

With a bit of sweat coming to his brow his staring eyes noticed the ball of flame light the first candle as he sent the ball of res towards the second one, about three quarters a foot away from the first, and about two of his armlengths away from his body.

Noth managed to get this one alight, in about six seconds of time and sent it towards the third candle at three armslength away, but the ball or res sputtered out before then. It's fuel spent. But the effort lent himself the idea he'd just run a small dash. He took a small break, drinking a bit of water from his drinking flask before considering his options while enforcing his own rule about not having larger fireballs to explore until he was sure he could handle them.

He figured he might increase the size of the ball of res, in which case it would increase the fuel, or he might create another ball of res and somehow transfer the flame before it burned out . But this was problematic as it would hold the same troubles as throwing two fireballs at once for his concentration.

Noth wasn’t ready for that, not until he had more practice.

He knew that.

He could increase the ball of res’ speed of movement, but then he wouldn’t be able to tell where his control left, and he just was throwing it. So Noth considered the fourth option, controlling the ball of res to the point it reached the first candle, igniting it’s outside then and seeing if that would increase the distance he could force it to go.

With that thought in mind, he called up the translucent substance once again to form a small ball at the tip of his fingers…

[Antar]

Working with Res, with complete control was one of the most difficult things Antar had done in his life. Especially now as he was determining his limits. Such things were the measure of how well one could stick to a task and develop it as a skill.

For him, he knew that it wasn't just one's self motivation that was driving him. It wasn't a thirst for knowledge or power. He just wanted to survive.

Noth supposed that might make him different from the hundreds of other mages in the world who sough knowledge with an insatiable curiousity. He didn't care for knowledge of magic as much as others, he only wanted enough to allow him to defend himself, and prosper using his other given skills and wits.

But with that difference, Antar knew that he'd one day face a mage, far more powerful then anything he could kill easily. And for that, one had to fight fire with fire. But for now, he was taking infinite care he wasn't the one going to be burned, either literally or figuratively.

The ball of res ignited itself at the first candle, its transluscent form coming into a haze of fire as the wick lit. He pushed it forwards with his mind, bringing it to light the second candle in a swift amount of time, and brought it on course for the third about seven and a half feet away. This one barely lit and he struggled to push it farther towards the fourth at ten feet, roughly four armspans.

The ball of flame didn't reach the last candle. It sputtered off course, and out of his control between the third and the fourth crashing towards the stone to burn itself out. He estimated to the point he'd lost it the fireball had traversed somewhere between seven and a half feet to ten, or three to four armlengths by his judgement. Antar did possess long arms so he presumed this was an acceptable judgement of his maximum distance of control.

It was something he'd remember he thought as he stood up to snuff out the candles once again before trying the excercise anew.

Antar knew his max distance now, so it was a matter of increasing speed, while maintaining control. For the next few minutes, and five teaspoon sized fireballs later, he felt confident in flinging the Res in straight lines with enough control to keep things on target.

Taking care, he duplicated this action to all sides, until the courtyard was awash with several loose circles of lit candles with him at its center. He found that his area of control wasn't a full circle like he surmised, but rather behind him it was only about half the distance. Eight and a half feet to the front, sides, and diagonals, with only four and a quarter behind.

Antar surmised this was because of the way he thought, and how well he was capable of keeping the relation of objects to their respective positions to himself. Indeed any sentient's view was forward focused with a bit broader field of vision to what might see out of the corner of one's eyes.

Logically, if he had a means of sensing something behind him, his accuracy would improve there as well, if he could manage to wind the Res about himself in a whipping arc. Sure , such a thing would take a large bit of finesse, and he was nowhere skilled enough to make such an attempt but Noth would file it away for later experiments.

Now was the time to conduct his next challenge, the basics he had recieved before he left had been explicit in the fact a fireball wielder might ignite the center of the res ball, just as it was about to leave his area of control. And Antar was determined for his own safety to master that facet of casting.

With care he rested a few more minutes, considering what to do next. For the first time, he surmised it best to learn to ignite the res at the edge of his area of control while throwing fireballs in straight lines. After that, he would seek to master the art of curving a lit ball of Res in an arc, whipping it about himself for some time within his distance of control, even if it was only between his hands like he was tossing a ball like he used to do as a child with his younger sibling...

[Antar]

Whenever one does something for the first time with Fire. Even the god's knew it was bound to be dangerous. And igniting the core of a small ball of Res just before it left one's control seemed far more dangerous to Antar then anything he'd tried before. Explosive even.

Something which might have far worse consequences then touching a hot stove.

Working with fire had it's benefits Antar assumed as he considered the problem. With a bit of Res at its center ignited like black powder, a fireball would gain a very quick burst of energy, making its flames hotter as the fuel was consumed rapidly. He guessed that was the difference between using a bit of reimancy to light a torch, or boil a creature's eye and throwing a burning ball of searing heat into someone's chest cavity to burn them or melt the armor they wore.

And the thought of having that ability, frankly scared him.

Oh, it was one thing to take the life of someone with an arrow, or a blade. You were still you, committing the act. But with reimancy, it might prove to mean burning a part of your own soul to kill the threat dead. He'd known enough that mage's tended to harness a resovoir of djed, and Res over time like squirrels hordeing nuts for the winter's cold blight. Resoirvoir's which naturally regenerated over time, in very small amounts over many copious days.

This was the reason why he determined, and swore to himself not to use reimancy unless it was absolutely necessary. Noth figured he, a novice, would have to allow longer periods of rest to restore himself so as not to injure his mind or his soul. However, that didn't be he would be served by anything if he didn't practice. If the time came where he had to use such cursed gifts to save his own life then that was what he knew he had to prepare for.

But in order to practice and experiment he had to ration his resources.

For the twentieth time, time that day he conjured up the smallest fireball he could for the exercise and flung it with all his mental might towards the stone wall, his mind grasping to ignite it just at the edge of his limit.

Noth failed this time, he had flung it too fast, and his concentration seemed to be a bit off. So he calmed himself by taking deep breaths before reaching into his djed to summon one more fireball before throwing to follow the course of the line of candle's.

This time it flew straighter then his straightest arrow, with his mind triggering the Res between the third and fourth candle. The effect was instantaneous to his eyes as the fireball flared up to expand to twice its size before it burned through the fourth candle completely before it impacted with a blast into the far wall, sending a tiny shower of pyrotechnic sparks to the gravelstone below.

For a few moments, all Antar could do was stare as he considered what had just happened... and the damage he noted in the wall itself, a small scorched circle where the stone had been pitted by his strike. He reached tentatively out towards the area, holding two fingers over the mark long enough to note a small bit of heat in the cooling stone.

He'd done it.

But what really had he done?

If that strike had been a man, the man would have been burned, but if he was in armor then the man would still be on his feet and charging at Antar, maybe dying in ten or twenty minutes from his wound, but still not stopped enough in time to save Noth's life.

This was going to take some work to determine the most efficient methods of how to proceed. But for now, he was tired... it was midmorning so far, so he opted to go back to settle for a nap and a meal. He'd return in the afternoon to practice what he had learned once more before attempting to begin the honing process.

[Antar]

After a brief nap, Antar chewed a bit of of cheese he pondered what he learned so far.

At his level of skill, control was far from finite with the smallest amounts of Res, unless one was completely still, and concentrating for a good twenty to thirty seconds. Twenty seconds to gather enough Res for a teaspoon's worth, and ten seconds for it to burn while maintaining some degree of control in straight lines when casting.

And the enormity of actually moving a ball of Res slower across a small circle of control would have one's mind be likened to the effort of a small army of ants carrying a portion of a haul back to their nest.

Difficult constraints to work under, when dealing with fires less then the diameters of one's fist. Especially when the balls or res were about the size of a pebble or stone.

That smallest amount of power was the only point where any manipulation became possible, as from the scraps he heard, beginning Res users were far more likely to just have a point blank fireball to someone's face with any power fear, terror, and anger might supply them.

All in all, it was a humbling experience to consider just how much farther Noth had to go before he extributed any competence in the matter. But there were a few things he could extrapolate at this point, at least with his own personal usage of Res.

Control at the lowest levels was only possible with the least amounts of Res and Power if one took the time to concentrate. The entire process would be far more difficult in combat situations, and Noth knew he'd have to develop his skills to such a point and do so quickly if he was to have a chance to survive and the challenges of casting were quite difficult when considering all the other factors one might have to deal within the heat of a situation.

Moving targets came to mind.

So far, he'd only practiced with stationary ones with small balls of fire at his beck and call. To this end, Antar was forced to consider the sheer challenges which lay ahead of him, within his own self imposed training regimen.

First, he'd maintain his outlook of priorities:

The first, to develop better exercises to draw Res from his djed over greater amounts of time to increase the resorvoir at his disposal. The second thing was pure manipulation, the ability to extrude and then reabsorb the Res in a quick enough fashion. Starting small, and working on technique, before power.

Only after becoming comfortable at his current level of experience would he try to find ways to slowly increase the power of his reimancy use. Gradually, not by conjuring things that were bound to come back to burn him later on. However, he factored that the best excercises to do this were two fold- to expend a constant amount of energy for longer periods of time in order to expand his ability to produce RES, and manipulate the flow of it. Or, to cast larger and larger fireballs, in safer and safer areas.

It was in this moment his mind flitted back to the warmed stone, and he vowed it best to keep a bucket of water present at all times of his excercises.

He'd found a decent spot to practice, a place where very little fires could start because of the stone around the courtyard. And it was secluded enough for his purposes that he could slip in and out of the area unseen at any time of day or night.

So the only problem lay if anyone could sense what Noth was doing.

'Auristics' he heard someone mutter during one of his old jobs with the spymaster. That was the terminology for those who could read the aura's of people who used their djed. That was the basics, but he figured he'd need more then just the basics eventually.So Noth decided it best he search for more then one place to practice in safety. He'd use the stone courtyard for small things now, yet find a place in Sunberth hidden from others to develop the necessary skills.

With his plans in mind, Noth got up and stretched before returning back to the stone courtyard in the slums. With care he set up the candles as he pleased, this time, in an arcing curve along the well's side. For the moment, when he cast Antar would try to curve the projectiles of fire with enough of a degree of precision to hit one or more then one of the targets along the well's edge.

Stepping back a few paces, antar sat crosslegged again and began to bring the Res up to his palm like he had done at the start, before mentally placing a spin on the ignited outer edge of the ball. Like a pitcher tossing his arm, he threw it watching it ignite a single candle before sputtering out against the dried up well's stone lip.

It was disheartening, like before, but Noth was the type to note that it didn't matter. Competency only comes with practice, and these were the basics of the basics. He hadn't even gone onto larger sources of Res, and he'd doubted he would before he called it quit for one week to let his Res build up once more. Like any muscle he knew his mind, and his magic would require rest. So all he could hope for was attaining a small measure of control with the smallest amounts of energy he could before he called it quits.

[Antar]

Marshalling his djed once again, Noth tried for another ten pitches of fireballs, succeeding only about five out of the ten times. An accuracy, of about fifty percent.

Some might call it good, but he personally called it horrible.

It was horrible for an archer to make himself innacurate with any weapon of any sort. Antar knew he would have to do much better in the future. Much much better if he was to have a hope against that mage.

So after taking a short breather, Noth moved onto the next excercise. A duplicate of the lines of candles save they were all arcing in curves away from him. Calming his mind, he called upon his djed and fashioned that same small teaspoon of Res, and began to make the ants of his mind march it across the distances at a painfully slow pace. As it touched the first candle, he ignited the exterior, before slowly moving to the second and failing to make the distance to the third before it fizzled out due to lack of fuel.

So he tried again.

And again.

And again... with the ticking of his heart counting the long seconds. Each teaspoon of Res he gathered taking almost twenty seconds a piece to bend to his will.

Each time he forced himself to move the ball of Res a little faster within his sphere of influence until beads of sweat were pouring down his back, and dripping into his eyes. The effort to continue was immense, but finally he had began to speed up the arc fast enough to reach the third candle before igniting the core to whip the spinning ball of fire into a well built stone wall only to watch it spark to pieces.

With a sigh he stopped, and sat there breathing at the exertion, and the toll he figured had been placed upon his reserves. He was up only for one more experiment with his abilities today. One that would be hit or miss, as he had in mind to summon a larger ball of Res.

There was a reason why Noth was glad of working in this courtyard with this dried up well. The well itself wasn't boarded over, and that meant a fireball might be thrown down the well shaft to see how far he might fling one before it's fuel ran out. Since the well was something that would have contained water in the past, the bolt would have a good chance of traversing a fair distance. Maybe even enough for him to see the well's bottom.

Such a thought was a curiousity at best.

But he knew, this close to the edge of his abilities, and feeling as tired as Noth was that it would be best not to overdo it. Just one last fireball, and then it would be time to head back to his tent, hidden in another section of the slums, all in order to rest...

But the first thing he did, was take five minutes to get up, and stretch. To work his muscles and his lungs as he gathered up the remaining candles and stowed them away in his pack before considering the next step.

This would be also firing a fireball from a stationary position. However, there were two differences between what he had done before: for the first time he would be manipulating and transforming the Res while being on his feet. And for the second difference; it would be for the first time he'd be increasing the amount of Res in one of his fireballs to a greater magnitude then what he had done before.

With a bit of resolve, Noth drank another draught of water from his drinking flask, and secured his pack with the candles on the other side of the stone wall. Marching towards the center of the well, where he might look down inside, he planted his feet firmly shoulder width apart and pantomimed the action of throwing the fireball down deep into the well.

Practicing, for he knew he'd only get one shot.

If he messed up the well might protect him from the flame's wrath, but that was no guarantee any backwash if he couldn't control the amount of Res placed into the casting drained him to the dregs. In the worst case scenario Antar reasoned merely by standing here, he might fall to the safety besides the outser sides of the well, and the flames would disperse safely above his head.

However, that was only if he lost control... and Antar was determined to not let that happen. He was much too stubborn to admit it, but he thrived on keeping his own personal demons in check. This ability to do magic was one such a demon, even if it hadn't been placed inside him willingly.

[Antar]

Each second as he drew upon the djed within to harness the Res, and draw it towards a position above his hands was both a set of moments that seemed to pass too quickly, and yet not quick enough.

The size of the ball grew, at first the size of a rock, like all then others, but then slowly the Res came, adding itself from his palms as it joined the growing artifice of his will. When it was the size of a grapefruit, Antar decided it was enough.

Like a pitcher, Antar threw back his arm and whipped it down towards the ground as the ball of flame was set ablaze by his will alone. At the edge of his perceptions he triggered the core and ducked down towards the wellside. Landing on one knee he halfway imagined himself to be capable of being thrown down by an ensuing backdraft. One eye still staring down as the fireball disappeared into darkness after fizzling at least about thirty good feet, ten meters, from his arm.

It had been a good fireball, with a fair amount of distance. But, Antar was somewhat strangely disappointed in the whole affair as the tension bled out from him. He hadn't seen the bottom of the dry well, nor had he been able to feel like he had created anything more then a firework , or flare that ships sometimes used to signal for help.

That was when the exhaustion came to him, and his knee collapsed as Noth rolled himself onto the ground, his eyes staring upwards at what was now the dark of night.

The stars were out.

Little tiny pinpricks of fire, so far away, and yet so bright. Perhaps they were the creations of those who had tossed their efforts into the skies, perhaps they weren't. After all, only the gods might know, or maybe not even they themselves cared to ask such questions.

So Antar lay there staring at the starlight and regained his breath slowly before standing unsteadily upon his feet . The man had surmised he had made a fair bit of progress today, and that was what counted. That was something to be proud or ecstatic for.

So he decided after today, he'd wait at least seven days before practicing again. All in order to let him recover. But that was seven days from now, and Antar had one thought he couldn't get out of his mind as he thought back to the nobleman's daughter in the Northlands.

They said Res, could be shaped like anything, So for a moment he took the time to draw one last teaspoon of the substance into being and thinned it to the breath of a single piece of paper in the night sky above his hand. A shape in his mind , which was the outline of a heart with an arrow through it.

For some reason unbeknownst to him he set it alight as soon as it was pictured, creating a small puff of smoke that wafted in the air as the fuel was consumed in but an instant. Leaving the shape of a heart cast in smoke as it rose into the air.

For a moment, he was at peace as he watched it float away and disperse.

But that was only for a moment, as the headache began.

He knew what it was, a sure sign of slightly overextending oneself, as he fell back upon his backside and winced as he rubbed his temples. He knew he'd be more careful in the future. With eyes wide shut Noth groped for his drinking flask again and took a draught of the cool water to clear his head. He swore right then and there he'd recognize the signs, and the way he was feeling before he let such things happen again.

Antar swore he'd give himself at least ten days rest. After all, the lesson here with the pain in his head was a simple one to apply. When dealing with candelabras, and fire from one's mind's eye: There were always consequences...

~Fin
Thanks for reading

"ooc"Well, I guess this is going to go up for review now >.> I'm trying to view this as all which *I IMAGINE* would be possible to develop skillswise between a reimancy score between 10 -15 so once this is marked up I can do another training thread for continuation of antar's training/experiments:)