PM to join A Book By Any Other Name [Clyde Sullins]

[Bartholomew]

Summer 18th, 515 A.V.

It was early in the morning when Light left his tent. The sun was still rising, and yet the moon had not fully fallen. The breeze was refreshingly cool for Light, and enjoyable as he began on his walk.

For 60 days Light guarded the new north outpost. There was little to protect the laborers from, other than one monster which attacked the traveler's cart as they came from Ravok. The people were not a problem either due to their goal of finishing this project. Only one man ever made a fuss within this outpost, and that was because he was sick and would rather steal medicine than pay for it.

Guard duty had become very boring for Light, but when he wanted a small amount of activity then he would help out with the building, or practice his magic. Today, Light chose to practice his magic.

He walked past regular builders collecting tools to begin their day. Tents laid all around him, all with the ebonstryfe's insignia on them. Ravok's militia had created one giant area as the housing station for all those that helped them. However, those tents were not individualized, meaning that some people had to share a tent with complete strangers. Sadly, Light was one of those people.

He had four tent-mates in total. All were male, which made the tent which they needed to share more stinkier, somehow. Light was amazed himself at how feet odor could be enough to suffocate him. Many times he nearly died in those tents, only to be saved by the front opening. Ever since the first night of nearly passing out from loss of breath, Light always slept where the tent opening lied.

Unlike his temporary housing, the air outside smelled much better, and the delicious smell of freshly caught breakfast roasting over fire only added to the wonderful aroma around him.

Light made sure he ate before leaving this morning. He also gathered all of his weapons, along with his armor, in case he wanted to hunt an animal before lunch time. Where he was going was as isolated as a ghost's inner self, so it would be very impossible for him to be disturbed by others. He needed the alone time, which was why he was packing up to leave the outpost.

Light passed through many trees and followed clear stone paths to get where he was going. To make sure that he would not be lost by the area, Light made carvings into trees that represented the Tawna language. Each symbol meant a direction that Light would need to take to return to the outpost. Some meant straight ahead, turn left, or turn right. Others just meant follow your heart, that was so he could confuse anyone who read the Tawna language, and stop them in their tracks towards him. Light made sure to note in his head that 'follow your heart,' actually meant turn right. Since the heart was on the left side of a human body, many would think that would be where he meant to go. This was a reverse psychology strategy that his father always told him about. He just hoped that this would work.

Eventually, where Light ended up heading to was a small stone beach where streams of water lead to the giant lake that surrounded Ravok. He figured that he would stay there for the day and use the water as nourishment if he ever really needed it.

Light set his bags near the pond and placed his weapons near his bags. He placed off his upper clothing as well in case the summer heat caused him to sweat. He began his magic routine by doing a few stretches, calming his weary mind so that he may practice magic proficiently.

When Light was done, he knelt with the river to his back and closed his eyes to enjoy the soothing sound of rushing water and blowing wind. It was when he felt one with nature that his reimancy would begin to flourish. His winds would hold great power, yet it was still not enough power to knock a man off his feet and into the air.

He told himself that this would be the day he mastered the wind ball. This would be the very beginning of his life as a true mage!

And so he calmed himself even more and began his reimancy activity with his magical chants:

I am the wind,
I lift men from earth and quiver their skin when they are afraid.
My journey begins,
When I can soar to the sky and claim my fate.
They think me bound,
They believe the earth can hold down my feet and hands.
But I prove them wrong,
For the wind blows and on soil it does not stand.
Terror comes in my form,
As I tower and twist while I descend.
I am the bringers of a ferocious storm,
I corrode and destroy when I deploy as the wind.

While Light chanted he opened his palm and allowed a small amount of djed to form. It floated in his hand and danced in a circular motion. Slowly, the small ball of djed turned into a white ball of res that was no bigger than his palm. The ball spun slowly, and as it did he began to use an attraction spell to add extra wind for the end result of what was suppose to be a powerful wind blast.

Light struggled informing and attracting, needing to stop a few times just to make sure that the res was contained. He didn't need to look at it to know that it was slowly forming into something that was not in the perfect circular shape that he wanted.

As he neared the end of his chant the res ball began to slowly transform into contained air, only managed to be contained because he left a few res to control the wind. He was struggling more than ever now, and sweating as he thought he would do before he began his magic training. He tried to hold it until the last moment when it would hit his target, but soon he became too weak to control his power.

The ball eventually lashed out against him while it exploded in on itself. Light fell to the ground, but mostly from the straining of his mind, not the wind ball which he had tried to create. That power was still very weak, and would need much more res than Light gave if he wanted it to do more damage.

Light laid on the stony beach, frustrated at himself for not getting this magic spell correct.

He wanted to scream at his failure, and let out a large shout after a moment of trying to contain himself. He knew that no one was watching him, but his scream might have disturbed others from their sleep as he did to the birds that were near him. Although, in those ticks, Light did not care if he disturbed a few people, or all of them.

[Clyde Sullins]

18 Summer 515

More days than not Clyde was bored. Once things got going, the expedition itself wasn't to interesting. Each day the outpost was built a bit more, had a bit more to it, the structures a bit more clear.

Most days Clyde kept busy going out on patrols. Mostly this involved following the coast in either direction, or seeking out water. Water after all was a draw for people, and signs of activity near them would likely first be seen near water.

Clyde had his own tent, one he'd been using for awhile and that he owned himself. He knew of the things needed to camp in the wilds, and so had most of what was required. A tent, a bedroll, a blanket, along with other things.

However Clyde's real drive was to learn. So before heading out that morning, Clyde had spoken to one of the wilderness guides, who'd told him of a plant common to the area.

He had a tiny bit of knowledge of herb lore, but any new bit was always of use.

So he'd decided that on his outing that day he'd find the herb Brinetooth. The guide who knew many of the common plants of the area, described it as residing in wooded areas, something that occurred near the coasts in this region. Heading south too far one would reach marshland, which wouldn't do.

Apparently it wasn't too hard to find if one knew what it looked like. It grew on bushes, forming into thickets and hedges and other natural impediments. Its leaves were ovule shaped, adorned with white flowers, However in summer, the current season, those flowers grew berries... Or turned into berries? He perhaps hadn't fully understood the mans wording. Regardless, they should hold blue berries, which could be used for various purposes.

And where would bushes grow near? Sources of water.

Clyde had been up before the sun, grabbed a quick bite to eat from camp, and then headed out. He had Cha in his hand, his ever present robes upon him which were currently turned outward to show the Ebonstryfe symbol, and his pack on his back. His pack had various items that might be of use. Writing tools, a weapon or two, a mortar to grind the berries, and a borrowed container to store it in, along with other odds and ends. And he'd brought Rye along, his guard dog who wouldn't be bothered by the darkness of the early morning with his special eyes.

By the time he was out of camp, most of the other residents had yet to even rise.

As he headed outward, Clyde kept his eyes peeled, looking from plant to plant. However finding the right one was unexpectedly tricky. He saw rounded leaves, a bush full of thorns, and a try with a proper shaped leaf that turned out to be a vine winding up it.

He didn't doubt a more skilled searcher for natural entities, berries and plants and such, would have been able to find what was desired in a chime.

Clyde wasn't so lucky. He wasn't sure how long he searched, checking over each plant he passed in turn, focusing on areas where water was common or even near tiny streams, but alas he had no luck, and soon the sun was more or less properly risen. Clearly he was no proper herbalist or forager.

Rye didn't seem bothered by his failure, simply walking along by his side, occasionally reacting to a sudden motion or sound by freezing and locking his gaze, only for it to be some animal scurrying about. Sometimes he'd react before a sound was even made, glaring at a object, only for it to scurry away and make itself known to Clyde. But then the canines sight didn't rely on light in the way humans did.

Sometimes as they walked, when Clyde wasn't paying close attention to him and only saw him out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to almost melt out of sight, blending in to the darkness below a tree or cast by a cloud. That was a trick Clyde would need to learn one day. Perhaps when he was better at morphing.

It was as they walked about that Clyde felt a small shudder, a tickle running down Cha's flesh and along his own skin. A scent about the air that rumbled quietly. Djed in the air.

He wasn't quite sure where, but he heard some sounds from a bit off, and so headed in that direction.

As Clyde exited the greenery of the wilds, he heard a sudden shout, one that sent several birds flying. As his eyes adjusted he saw what lay before him, a stony beach, water, and the source of the djed faint on the air, brushing subtly against his aura in a way only a master could sense.

He'd clearly thrown himself upon the ground, or back onto it, and was more occupied with whatever he was doing than paying attention to his surroundings.

But then, doing magic tended to take a good bit of concentration, and rarely left much for being aware of ones surroundings. Particularly when one was deeply absorbed into a difficult spell.

As he neared the prone figure, Clyde noticed it was someone he'd met before, that annoying mage that'd tried to use magic on him and had wanted to be Clyde's student.

Clyde made his presence known by using his foot to prod one of the bags the boy had left sitting aside, moving its contents about inside and knocking against each other. If that hadn't been enough, Clyde chose that moment to speak.

“You know, it is said one can learn more of a person by how they meet failure, than by how they meet success.”

[Bartholomew]

"You know,"

Light opened his eyes hastily as he heard a mans voice. It took him long to register the sound, but as the man ended his speech, Light recognized who it was that spoke to him.

Instantly did Light hop up from his laying position, to his knees, crouching as if this man's presence was enough to bring Light down. At the sight of the newcomer, Light felt deeply ashamed. Ashamed because he had not been able to pick up this mans footsteps among the leaves, stones, and grass below. That just showed how much connection to nature and earth Light really had.

"It is said one can learn more of a person by how they meet failure, than by how they meet success,” this man, formally known as Clyde Sullins, said. Light thought on his words for a moment, wondering what exactly was shown to Clyde. It was obvious that he had witnessed Light's failure, and no man would be as close as Clyde was without hearing Light's cry of frustration.

He figured that what he showed was an impatient man, even though that was partly true. Light never spent as much time as he did now on magic, learning techniques and trying to connect with it on a spiritual level. Seasons pasted since his last teachings, so now he was forced to relearn everything about reimancy and hypnotism in the most infuriating way he could think of. So much, in fact, that at these times when his strong will wavered, he would weight the option of giving up. The only thing that kept him going was the image he would always see when he closed his eyes.

A giant monster, green as the water behind it, standing over something liquid and red. Its feet are melting and it is roaring in a ferocious fit. Next to it, a man with a skinny frame, standing tall as though he were in the same realm of a god. He held a staff whose wood shined with immense power. Within the image, the man grinned victoriously, already knowing that the bout with the monster was drawing to its end.

The image gave him strength to continue, the red liquid gave him a mighty inspiration. Light could almost feel the extreme heat that radiated from it, burning his hand, even in imagery, as he tried to reach for it. He reveled in the thought of man controlling water as hot as the sun, and dreamed of the day when he would be able to do the same. That was why he worked, and that was why he told himself he would not give up.

"If you do not mind my asking, Mr. Sullins. How do you deal with failure?" Light stayed crouched and awaited this mans answer.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clearly the boy was not paying attention, as he didn't even respond when Clyde kicked at his gear. But then, perhaps its contents weren't noisy, or something that would be noticeable easily when clashed. Or perhaps Clyde was better versed in the art of stealth than he thought...

His talking though did get his attention. Rye stood by his side staring at the new thing before him, as the mage jumped up from his prior position to a crouch to look at Clyde.

For a moment Clyde tried to recall his name, but couldn't, and so did not dwell on it. If he needed his name he'd ask, and if he didn't recall clearly he hadn't been too important. Clyde recalled the events of when they'd first met, but not the telling of his name.

As the man replied to Clyde, he would find the staff wielding mage was not even looking at him, instead gazing out over the water. He still heard him, and gave a few moments pause before answering.

“You make too many assumptions. Who has said that you have failed? Did I say that? Or did you assume I'd said that. How would I even know? Only you know and decide when you fail.”

Clyde paused for a moment, taking in a breath, continuing to gaze out at the view. He exhaled, inhaled, held it, breathed out again, and took in another breath. Calming. A simple mind exercise.

“I deal with failure, by not failing. Failure is a end state. It is irrevocable. It is not the same as not succeeding. One can not succeed a hundred times, and still not fail once. Then again you can also not succeed once, or not even try, and fail. It all depends upon the task or end result desired. So have you failed?”

Clyde paused in his speech once more, giving the boy a chance to respond, as he moved about a bit. He slid one strap off, then switched hands that held Cha, and then slid the other strap off his shoulder, setting his pack to the ground to his right side. Once its weight was settled, he switched Cha back to his right hand.

With that done Clyde reached down, and plucked a old leaf off the ground. It was old, likely having been off a tree for some time, perhaps having blown to its current spot. It was dry and brown.

Finally looking back at the mage, he cocked his head, and spoke.

“What was it you did again?”

Clyde purposely left this question rather vague. Perhaps he meant what magics the man did, or perhaps he meant his job, or perhaps some other thing. Open ended questions were one of the interrogation techniques Clyde had discovered, which tended to be much more informative than specific questions.

[Bartholomew]

“You make too many assumptions," Clyde said in replacement of the answer which Light hoped he would give. "Who has said that you have failed? Did I say that? Or did you assume I'd said that. How would I even know? Only you know and decide when you fail.”

What is this man mouthing off now?! Light wondered as he knelt there confused. He tried to gather some understanding, however, it was just impossible. Like before, Clyde was a hard person to speak to, and even harder to deal with as Light imagined.

He stared upon that older man as he began to calm himself. For some reason, this insulted Light, for it seemed as if Clyde was angry at the stupidity of the question Light had just asked. Is he very prone to anger? The boy wondered while a little anger swelled inside him as he thought of the day they first met. Clyde was as he was now, and Light was a little younger in the mind. Now he felt as though he had grown a little, been in a few battles, and learned from all the mistakes he had made so far. The last time he met Clyde he had let his fear control him, which then called upon his anger and made him do something rash. This time he would not let his fear, or frustration take control.

He calmed himself as Clyde did, all the while mulling over what he just said. As the man seemed to finally find his peace, he went on, "I deal with failure, by not failing." Light raised a brow. "Failure is a end state. It is irrevocable. It is not the same as not succeeding. One can not succeed a hundred times, and still not fail once. Then again you can also not succeed once, or not even try, and fail. It all depends upon the task or end result desired."

Light knelt wordlessly, unable to say anything to what Clyde had just said. He understood every bit, and to it he strongly agreed.

"So have you failed?” Clyde asked, and in Light's mind he answered no.

With a smirk Light rose to his feet, standing tall and stretching out his limbs. Clyde was looking over a leaf. Light wondered what he was doing but decided that it was best not to bother asking.

His legs had begun to sleep while he was kneeling down. All that he could feel below him were tiny needles sticking his legs. They caused so much pain that when he looked down to view his lower half, he expected to see blood pouring from it.

Finally, Clyde broke the silence between them by asking, “What was it you did again?”

Light stared at him. "I do all sorts of things," the boy said with confidence. "I guard the castle at day and hunt for animals near night. In mornings like these when there is little activity, I practice my reimancy magic."

At the thought of reimancy, Light frowned. His head became wounded, yet no outside force had touched him. It was, instead, an inside force, which made him angry beyond any measures. It would be clear to Clyde if he payed attention to Light that he did not favor the word. "I haven't gotten far with that," he finally said. "My concentration is sloppy and over time it becomes hard for me to even get my wind to form."

[Clyde Sullins]

Once more the mage answered one of Clyde's questions, but ignored the others. A habit of his that tended to annoy Clyde.

Clyde had a tendency to ask several questions at once, while this man seemed to either answer only the last question asked, or to pick and choose which to answer. This was both annoying and rude to Clyde's sensibility, though he didn't say anything just yet.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the aggrandizement that was put into defining what he did. Defending a castle? What were they, in Syliras? Of course since Clyde was staring off into the distance the rolled eyes likely wouldn't be visible to the inexperienced mage.

At his mentioning of his troubles with his practicing Reimancy, Clyde let out a sigh. He was clearly foolish, messing about without any direction, or without even bothering to consider the best method to work with. If one was to learn a magic alone, they needed both initiative and ingenuity. So far he'd seen neither from him.

Likewise, he'd also seen that the mage had a lack of confidence. While overconfidence could be deadly in magic, under-confidence could lead to failure. When one did things by sheer force of will, bending the world to their needs by magic and djed, one needed to be confident in ones ability to succeed or to eventually not fail. If one wasn't, they'd only end up predicting their own failure and seeing it come true.

He was far to easily cowed, frustrated, and accepting of failure.

“And what was it you were trying to do just then? What specifically were you trying to do or accomplish?”

Clyde paused for a moment, shook his head, and sighed once more.

“Let me guess, you were trying something fancy, something that was interesting or looked cool, and bit off more than you could chew, am I right? What specifically were you doing, and what actually happened?”

A common cause of failure with new mages was attempting something beyond them. When new to a magic it was wise to stick to basics, straightforward techniques and usages of magic. One only deviated and expanded when they had a good grasp of the basics. Considering what he knew of the mage, he didn't doubt he'd failed purely out of trying something beyond him, before mastering the more basic skills.

[Bartholomew]

“And what was it you were trying to do just then? What specifically were you trying to do or accomplish?” Clyde asked, and after a small pause he shook his head and said "Let me guess, you were trying something fancy, something that was interesting or looked cool, and bit off more than you could chew, am I right? What specifically were you doing, and what actually happened?”

Light's cheeks turned red. He was angry that Clyde would assume that Light would do such a thing, but even more embarrassed that this man was half right with his assumption. Light had been trying something different but because he tried to strengthen his own weakness, not because he thought it looked cool.

"A wind ball," Light answered Clyde's first few questions with a frustratingly annoyed tone of his own. "I was trying to create a wind ball, but my power is too weak. The most I can do is send enough wind to blind an opponent, up close, if I might add. But I wanted to create a wind ball that could blast someone away, so I practiced a creation and attraction spell at the same time. I didn't do it because I thought it would look cool!"

Light turned his head, not wanting to keep his eyes on Clyde. He didn't want to see this man's judgmental eyes that seemed to tare him down more than build him up. He had already felt a loss of pride with this man's look the first time they met, he would not lose what little left he had.

Light breathed in and breathed out, trying to calm himself until he thought clearly. The last thing he wanted would be to frustratingly do or say something to make this man angry at him again. Light admired Clyde for his power, and he secretly wanted them to get along, but this man was incredibly frustrating at times to where Light couldn't help but deal with him by wild instinct.

"I'm not..." He sighed deeply. "I can't get this right and it is driving me mad. How do I deal power when I cannot create it?"

[Clyde Sullins]

Considering Clyde's many harsh tutors, including the particularly harsh and at times violent Magecrafter of the IHL Lazarin, Clyde was a pretty laid back teacher.

Often ones style was influenced by ones own instructors, and so Clyde's method was one of toughness. He did not take guff, did not accept failure, and did not let people take it easy. Praise was a rare thing for him to give out, like a virgin in Ravok.

Then again, with Light's easily cowed nature, perhaps what Clyde felt he needed was a bit of toughness to harden him. Force him to get strong in the face of adversity and show his mettle. Instead his reaction seemed to be one of anger, more of what Clyde had already seen. This if anything simply made Clyde want to tick Light off more, to perhaps try and truly set him off if that was the type he was. Better to know it now, Clyde reasoned, than later.

In the end it seemed he had been mostly right with his assumption, as Light explained the attempt at making a wind ball.

His intention though had been... Weird... As best Clyde understood, he'd been attempting to compress air tightly into a ball, and use it as a single blast or assault to send someone flying, or perhaps to knock them away. That might have worked if he'd been more skilled, but it was far beyond a initiate.

Furthermore, he'd been using both attraction and transmutation at the same time, when he could have used just attraction. Foolish and wasteful. And a sign of a bad habit, if he was using transmutation for any reason other than having to. An important thing to learn was to use attraction first, last, and always, whenever possible.

Clyde shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“You don't create it. Better to harness a power than create it. Why would you for instance build a ladder to get over a wall, when there is a handy staircase right next to you? That is basically what you are doing.”

“The fact that you are using attraction and transmutation, when there is plentiful air available, is the height of folly. Its stupid. Your being stupid and not thinking.”

Clyde paused for a moment, letting this sink in, before continuing.

“Two things with Reimancy. One, use attraction whenever you can. Transmutation is a last resort, not something you do when the mundane variety is right there. Two, follow a elements nature. Fire burns, water flows, air BLOWS. It doesn't swirl about in a tight ball crashing into itself, finally being released in a unpredictable fashion. You've heard of a tornado? Its basically a gust of wind circling over and over, gaining momentum and power, amped up to a higher degree. Those can pick up a person like its a feather, tear down buildings, lay waste. But it follows its nature. If you try to do something against a elements nature, your basically fighting against yourself.”

Holding up the leaf he'd picked up earlier, Clyde held it out in front of him, showing it to Light.

“Take this leaf. I want you to keep it from touching the ground without using anything else, no hands, no sticks, nothing. Just attraction. Attract the wind, follow its nature, and have it carry the leaf for you. A big tornado can toss a cow. What can a tiny one do?”

[Bartholomew]

“You don't create it," Clyde answered and confusion became slathered on Light's face. "Better to harness a power than create it," he continued. "Why would you for instance build a ladder to get over a wall, when there is a handy staircase right next to you? That is basically what you are doing.”

Light squinted his eyes, trying to understand where Clyde was going with this conversation. He could tell that Clyde was giving advice, to Light's own surprise, and from that advice Light understood that Clyde was telling him to only use attraction spells.

“The fact that you are using attraction and transmutation, when there is plentiful air available, is the height of folly. Its stupid," Clyde added. And to that Light narrowed his brow even more.

Is he giving me advice or insulting me? Light wondered.

Clyde went on to inform Light on the best way to use reimancy. He said that attraction was much better to use than transmutation, and that transmutation should only be a last resort. He noted to Light, in the infuriating voice which Light hated to hear, along with infuriating words, that wind was meant to blow, not stay compact in one tiny ball. Clyde then said that Light was fighting against himself, the very nature of his power, if he tried to trap the wind.

“Take this leaf," Clyde held up the leaf he picked for Light to see. "I want you to keep it from touching the ground without using anything else, no hands, no sticks, nothing. Just attraction." Light stared at the leaf. " Attract the wind," Clyde said. "Follow its nature, and have it carry the leaf for you. A big tornado can toss a cow. What can a tiny one do?”

Light sighed. His back came up to a straight position, and suddenly he became presentable, as though that would help in his practice of magic. He silently walked up to Clyde and held his opened palm over the leaf. If he was going to practice on the leaf then he needed to be as close to it as he could, for he could not control his magical res unless the res was near him. If he even tried to move it a few feet away from him, it would grow out of his control and disperse faster than it was created.

"I am the wind" Light chanted, almost as a whisper. From the tip of his forefinger poured a small amount of djed. It formed into a silver circular shape below his palm. Light could already feel the wind stir with excitement and great preparations. It wanted to be controlled by him, the natural wind fell before Light's knees like a gallant knight readying for a king to use his power. Light continued, "I lift men from the earth and quiver their skin when they are afraid."

Slowly, the tiny ball of djed turned white, like the purest of milks. The wind was gradually turning violent as Light chanted away with his words. It was gathering itself around Light's res, gaining the energy that Light needed in order to do the task which Clyde asked. "My journey begins, when I can soar to the sky and claim my fate."

It isn't enough, Light thought to himself. This slow progress only yielded a small result of power. He did not gather enough wind to keep the leaf up, let alone make it flutter in the air. It needs to be bigger!

"They think me bound," Light said a little more forceful. "They believe the earth can hold down my feet and hands, but I prove them wrong." More djed began to gather around the res, slowly turning pure on its own and causing the wind to stir unnaturally.

MORE DJED! Light thought, but he fought against himself. One of the greater causes of the consequences for using magic was over-usage. The more he used djed, the greater it felt for him. For some reason, wasting djed was on the same euphoric level as smoking a pipe or making love. It gave his mind a drug that felt amazing, and the longer he went on to use djed, the greater the feeling he was given. If only there was not horrible side effects for over-using magic; Light would then be able to use as much power as he could.

For now, Light kept his mind on the task and banned himself from using anymore djed. "For the wind blows and on soil it does not stand." Light began to use attraction. He spun the miniature milky white ball while he called forth wind from below it. A breeze had begun, and the leaf was now keeping itself up by his power.

The only problem he had now was keeping the leaf under his ball of res. It spun wildly at most times and moved away from the spear in a twirl if Light added too much air to it. Soon enough, Light realized that he called forth too much power when the leaf twisted away from him and his influencing res sphere. He tried to call it back but it only fought against him, resting itself on the ground when it was far enough away from Light.

"Damned it," he said, lowering his hands and letting the res ball disperse. Once again he had failed, but he was not angry as he would have normally been. Now he was only disappointed and curious. Disappointed that he could not get it the first time, but curious to see what would happen if he tried something new, maybe something involving less power.

Light's eyes turned back to Clyde, finally realizing that he was standing near. He had been so focused on that task that he had forgotten that the mage was around. As his mind began to sense everything around him once again, Light gave a slight smile to Clyde. "You know, with all that knowledge in your head, you could write a worthy book for newcomers like me."

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde more or less ignored Light as he went through his chanting, the muttered and spoken incantation giving added focus to the mages spell.

Helping keep his mind on task and within the moment.

Clyde did it himself at times, though more often than not he did it purely because he felt like it, not because he needed to. Particularly with lesser spells. But he wasn't as skilled in all magics as he was with Reimancy, and so if nothing else it aided in his work with those.

The words were meaningless, the intent was the thing, along with the focusing of the mind.

His interest was more in the spell. Which, in Clyde's mind, was a rather silly and inefficient way of doing things. That or Light had some obsession with balls.

If he'd been doing it he'd either have made a simple updraft to push the leaf up slowly, or he'd have made the tiny wind cyclone to hold the leaf and spin it about and up. The former being better likely for the specific desired effect of holding up the leaf.

Instead Light once more made a ball of res, and tried to balance a flattish object upon the rotations of wind on that ball. Silly to Clyde's eyes.

However if he wasn't going to be inventive and think for himself, Clyde wasn't going to give him all the answers. Some things one needed to figure out by oneself.

He wasn't surprised then when the leaf went flying away.

“Wrote, past tense, I did that like... A year ago? I don't know, it was awhile back. But its a book about Reimancy, not instructing in its specific usage. Anyone can think up specific spells, wave their hands and chant words. But knowing how to use it, the proper thought processes and such, a understanding of the magic itself, that's far more difficult.”

Clyde shrugged, waving his hand vaguely at his pack.

“I usually keep a copy with me, I've probably got one of the few copies I made in my things.”

Once more Clyde shrugged, not paying much attention to Light, nor offering for the man to have or take the mentioned book, only mentioning it was there.

“Though if you want more examples of spells to try, or other such hand holding, I believe you'd find the book disappointing.”