Spring 3 513 AV
Rayage looked at the gold Miza in her hand. Sitting at her desk she fumbled with it, moving it between her fingers before finally pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. A miza, one in a million, one in a trillion, one in a million-trillions, and each have two sides to them, just like magic. Each unique on their own, but they all possess a metal rim, and stone center, but more importantly djed. Magic and Miza fit well together, hand in hand. They both were driven by emotion, and both brought happiness to those who had them, and both breed insanity, hate, and lust. Though the evils of man should not be projected onto these symbols, as the both of them were merely tools to be used, things to be used to accomplish goals good or bad. They are impartial things, incapable of any discrimination but the ones held by the user of the tool. Such profound things these are, miza and magic.
Dropping the coin on the table below her the nuit watched it bounce, clank against the wood, and spin for a while before finding rest. The rhythm of the coin intrigued her, but she could not investigate something as insignificant as a coin when she had other more important secrets she could be addressing. These secrets lie in the very depths of her being, her fears, her hopes, her desires, all of it she needed to dissect and conquer as to master herself is to master Personal Magic, at least control wise. A wizard need not cast in haste, and thought should be put into every spell, every purpose, everything. It needs order, structure, and she alone will stand tall in the chaotic sea of her own mind. An ordered chaos, yes, that is what magic must be.
Parchment in front of her the nuit glanced down at it. This time she would need to create a target for herself to fire at. Instead of imagining one, she would have one, and thus have a better idea of how far off she is every time she missed. She could adjust accordingly, and fire again. There were plenty of things which she was going to do differently with Reimancy practice today. The first was the creation of the target. The second thing was the practice of creating just enough res to produce a fireball of decent size instead of straining herself all at once to produce a bunch res. This practice would cut down on djed expenditure when preparing an attack, as she would not produce more res than she intends to use. Though for that to work perfectly she would have to get making a fireball down to a science, something which she was confident she could do with practice.
The paper would be a suitable enough target, but some minor modifications could be made to make it that much more usable. She would glyph it, so when she hit the target the paper would not burn, but the magic instead would be stored inside it. It was one of the more advanced uses of glyphing. Storing magic, although seemingly basic, is something that she had not gotten down till just recently. The past glyphs had been unstable, unreliable, and unworthy of storing anything but the very basics of magic. Luckily that was all she could really fill a glyph with. After all, her powers lie in world magic, not personal.
Quill picked up, she dipped it ink and started her design. Instead of the regular circles like she usually did for her glyphs, today she would try squares. A square, if properly marked, would do the same thing as a circle no doubt. So today she would use squares. However, before she even got to the glyphing part she needed to figure out how she wanted this to work… or she could just go with the flow of things and just create. The latter option made her uneasy, as things without a plan often end up failing. Would the same prove true with the glyph, or would a carefully drawn out one, constructed with a plan in mind, be the better option? Feeling a bit daring today she would choose the latter option; she would just create and see what it got her. A glyph is a glyph no matter the shape or form.
The first square was a smaller one on the paper, about half the size of the nuits hand center on the parchment. Around it she drew a bigger square, the edges of both squares were a couple inches apart each. In the inner square she would draw four lines from its corners, inward, until they almost met in the middle, but did not touch. There was room enough to draw a cross between the lines and still have empty space between all the lines, and draw a cross she did. However the cross was small and did not come close to even meeting the inner squares boundaries. That square would serve as the focus of the glyph.
Between the space of the second and first square, ‘inside’ the second square, the nuit started drawing a chain of symbols closely packed together. The four symbols the nuit used were: an “A” shaped thing with two more lines above and below it making it look like an “I”, a swirly circle which curled in on itself until the line formed a small dot in the center, an addition sign with additional lines added to each end of the sign spiking outwards like a “V” and in the center of the “V” the nuit drew a little “O”, and finally an “F-like” symbol with another “F” superimposed onto it, inverted and backwards. Those four symbols paraded around the square, securing any and all magic in place.
On the upper right hand corner of the page the nuit drew a little triangle. This would act as the Trigger, releasing the barrier when the triangle is firmly pressed upon.
With the glyph made the undead dragged a chair across the room to the cleared center area. Propping the parchment up against the chair, glyph facing outward, the wizard paced back to her desk. Turning around facing the chair her eyes square on the glyphed paper she began to summon her inner strength, her inner power, and this power took a price, just like any magic, but more personal than world, and that a sliver of the very soul. Holding her hands out in front of her, palms facing each other, she willed her out of her hands, cutting away just enough to form a small orb of red substance between the outstretched hands. This substance was called Res, and being the wizard she was, she could use that res to create the element of fire.
Eyes never breaking from the glyph, for her eyes knew where the target was, all she needed to do is aim and will the fireball to shoot towards the target. The res moved hesitantly, almost as disjointed as nuits do in their bodies, and her grip and control on the substance was not the best, in fact she was just getting used to working with it. At best it was fluid, fluid in the fact that it seemed to drift, and it almost was like she was trying to grasp water. She needed a lot of concentration and effort to begin moving the res, and the strain showed. However, with practice she would conquer even this. She needed to, personal power was calling to her, beckoning her to join it, and with that summon she would take and fulfill her destiny. After all, protecting her life was the most important thing using whatever means necessary. That was why she became a nuit in the first place; the value of life was incomprehensible.
She focused and pictured in her head the arc and power she would need to hit the target from that distance. She saw the path she needed to take, and she concentrated on that. She visualized the result as her hitting the target spot on with the fireball landing just where she wanted it. Once she built herself up to the event and went through the process of casting the fireball several times mentally, she felt that she could do it! With that confidence the nuit took a step forward, planting her foot. Drawing her arm back, the sphere of res followed it, and then in a throwing motion the wizard released the res and hurled it at the target, igniting the res into flames and watched it soar through the room in a beautifully planned out arc. However the ball of fire landed short, and to the right.
A bit deflated about the failure Rayage took some time to analyze what went wrong, what did she do wrong? The first thing was that she did not put enough force behind the fire for it to fly far enough, that much was obvious. Although it could be its arcing too, however, she would leave that variable out for now and try again approximating the same arc for the fireball to travel. She would push it mentally with more force of will, and that will should get it to fly farther. However, she also needed to realize that sometimes, because of her range and control over the res, results are highly limited in what she could do successfully.
Frowning at her limit, she took a step back, returning to the starting point. Recomposing herself, she once again returned her hands to their proper position in front of her, palms facing each other. Again she tugged on her very soul, ripping a portion of it off to be transmuted into res which in turn would be transmuted into fire. The res came slowly, and with effort, it felt almost as if it were molasses slowly dripping from her to form the sphere suspended in the air. Her res was beautiful, red as the rose, it held almost an enchanting power over the wizard as she found that she loved to see it secrete out of her. Just producing it felt good. She felt powerful! She could create fire. Fire was the building block of humanity. What more could she hope to accomplish? A lot more. Her sights were set high.
Once more she went through the motions of visualizing how she would cast the sphere of res in front of her, and how she would hit the target. Going through the motions a couple times she hesitantly took a step forward, drawing her arm back, she was doing the motions slow as if careful not to mess up. Then pushing forward, looking almost as if time was slowed down, she pushed forward and the res followed the commands. Her arm extended fully she brought it back to resting and retook the starting stance of her holding her hands in front of her. She knew at some point she would have to break herself from using such time consuming gestures, but at this point right now such a thing did not matter. The only thing that mattered was hitting the target, and she would try again.
xRayage looked at the gold Miza in her hand. Sitting at her desk she fumbled with it, moving it between her fingers before finally pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. A miza, one in a million, one in a trillion, one in a million-trillions, and each have two sides to them, just like magic. Each unique on their own, but they all possess a metal rim, and stone center, but more importantly djed. Magic and Miza fit well together, hand in hand. They both were driven by emotion, and both brought happiness to those who had them, and both breed insanity, hate, and lust. Though the evils of man should not be projected onto these symbols, as the both of them were merely tools to be used, things to be used to accomplish goals good or bad. They are impartial things, incapable of any discrimination but the ones held by the user of the tool. Such profound things these are, miza and magic.
Dropping the coin on the table below her the nuit watched it bounce, clank against the wood, and spin for a while before finding rest. The rhythm of the coin intrigued her, but she could not investigate something as insignificant as a coin when she had other more important secrets she could be addressing. These secrets lie in the very depths of her being, her fears, her hopes, her desires, all of it she needed to dissect and conquer as to master herself is to master Personal Magic, at least control wise. A wizard need not cast in haste, and thought should be put into every spell, every purpose, everything. It needs order, structure, and she alone will stand tall in the chaotic sea of her own mind. An ordered chaos, yes, that is what magic must be.
Parchment in front of her the nuit glanced down at it. This time she would need to create a target for herself to fire at. Instead of imagining one, she would have one, and thus have a better idea of how far off she is every time she missed. She could adjust accordingly, and fire again. There were plenty of things which she was going to do differently with Reimancy practice today. The first was the creation of the target. The second thing was the practice of creating just enough res to produce a fireball of decent size instead of straining herself all at once to produce a bunch res. This practice would cut down on djed expenditure when preparing an attack, as she would not produce more res than she intends to use. Though for that to work perfectly she would have to get making a fireball down to a science, something which she was confident she could do with practice.
The paper would be a suitable enough target, but some minor modifications could be made to make it that much more usable. She would glyph it, so when she hit the target the paper would not burn, but the magic instead would be stored inside it. It was one of the more advanced uses of glyphing. Storing magic, although seemingly basic, is something that she had not gotten down till just recently. The past glyphs had been unstable, unreliable, and unworthy of storing anything but the very basics of magic. Luckily that was all she could really fill a glyph with. After all, her powers lie in world magic, not personal.
Quill picked up, she dipped it ink and started her design. Instead of the regular circles like she usually did for her glyphs, today she would try squares. A square, if properly marked, would do the same thing as a circle no doubt. So today she would use squares. However, before she even got to the glyphing part she needed to figure out how she wanted this to work… or she could just go with the flow of things and just create. The latter option made her uneasy, as things without a plan often end up failing. Would the same prove true with the glyph, or would a carefully drawn out one, constructed with a plan in mind, be the better option? Feeling a bit daring today she would choose the latter option; she would just create and see what it got her. A glyph is a glyph no matter the shape or form.
The first square was a smaller one on the paper, about half the size of the nuits hand center on the parchment. Around it she drew a bigger square, the edges of both squares were a couple inches apart each. In the inner square she would draw four lines from its corners, inward, until they almost met in the middle, but did not touch. There was room enough to draw a cross between the lines and still have empty space between all the lines, and draw a cross she did. However the cross was small and did not come close to even meeting the inner squares boundaries. That square would serve as the focus of the glyph.
Between the space of the second and first square, ‘inside’ the second square, the nuit started drawing a chain of symbols closely packed together. The four symbols the nuit used were: an “A” shaped thing with two more lines above and below it making it look like an “I”, a swirly circle which curled in on itself until the line formed a small dot in the center, an addition sign with additional lines added to each end of the sign spiking outwards like a “V” and in the center of the “V” the nuit drew a little “O”, and finally an “F-like” symbol with another “F” superimposed onto it, inverted and backwards. Those four symbols paraded around the square, securing any and all magic in place.
On the upper right hand corner of the page the nuit drew a little triangle. This would act as the Trigger, releasing the barrier when the triangle is firmly pressed upon.
With the glyph made the undead dragged a chair across the room to the cleared center area. Propping the parchment up against the chair, glyph facing outward, the wizard paced back to her desk. Turning around facing the chair her eyes square on the glyphed paper she began to summon her inner strength, her inner power, and this power took a price, just like any magic, but more personal than world, and that a sliver of the very soul. Holding her hands out in front of her, palms facing each other, she willed her out of her hands, cutting away just enough to form a small orb of red substance between the outstretched hands. This substance was called Res, and being the wizard she was, she could use that res to create the element of fire.
Eyes never breaking from the glyph, for her eyes knew where the target was, all she needed to do is aim and will the fireball to shoot towards the target. The res moved hesitantly, almost as disjointed as nuits do in their bodies, and her grip and control on the substance was not the best, in fact she was just getting used to working with it. At best it was fluid, fluid in the fact that it seemed to drift, and it almost was like she was trying to grasp water. She needed a lot of concentration and effort to begin moving the res, and the strain showed. However, with practice she would conquer even this. She needed to, personal power was calling to her, beckoning her to join it, and with that summon she would take and fulfill her destiny. After all, protecting her life was the most important thing using whatever means necessary. That was why she became a nuit in the first place; the value of life was incomprehensible.
She focused and pictured in her head the arc and power she would need to hit the target from that distance. She saw the path she needed to take, and she concentrated on that. She visualized the result as her hitting the target spot on with the fireball landing just where she wanted it. Once she built herself up to the event and went through the process of casting the fireball several times mentally, she felt that she could do it! With that confidence the nuit took a step forward, planting her foot. Drawing her arm back, the sphere of res followed it, and then in a throwing motion the wizard released the res and hurled it at the target, igniting the res into flames and watched it soar through the room in a beautifully planned out arc. However the ball of fire landed short, and to the right.
A bit deflated about the failure Rayage took some time to analyze what went wrong, what did she do wrong? The first thing was that she did not put enough force behind the fire for it to fly far enough, that much was obvious. Although it could be its arcing too, however, she would leave that variable out for now and try again approximating the same arc for the fireball to travel. She would push it mentally with more force of will, and that will should get it to fly farther. However, she also needed to realize that sometimes, because of her range and control over the res, results are highly limited in what she could do successfully.
Frowning at her limit, she took a step back, returning to the starting point. Recomposing herself, she once again returned her hands to their proper position in front of her, palms facing each other. Again she tugged on her very soul, ripping a portion of it off to be transmuted into res which in turn would be transmuted into fire. The res came slowly, and with effort, it felt almost as if it were molasses slowly dripping from her to form the sphere suspended in the air. Her res was beautiful, red as the rose, it held almost an enchanting power over the wizard as she found that she loved to see it secrete out of her. Just producing it felt good. She felt powerful! She could create fire. Fire was the building block of humanity. What more could she hope to accomplish? A lot more. Her sights were set high.
Once more she went through the motions of visualizing how she would cast the sphere of res in front of her, and how she would hit the target. Going through the motions a couple times she hesitantly took a step forward, drawing her arm back, she was doing the motions slow as if careful not to mess up. Then pushing forward, looking almost as if time was slowed down, she pushed forward and the res followed the commands. Her arm extended fully she brought it back to resting and retook the starting stance of her holding her hands in front of her. She knew at some point she would have to break herself from using such time consuming gestures, but at this point right now such a thing did not matter. The only thing that mattered was hitting the target, and she would try again.
