[Flashback] In Proelium Veritas

[Aren]

79th of Spring, 510 AV - Late Morning. Syliras, the Stone Gardens Aren had arrived in Syliras not too long ago and already he felt like leaving. Too many knights, too many rules, too much order. It felt like Riverfall, except with fouler drinks and tinier people. Everybody was always so cautious of doing just about anything, and with the way the Syliran Knights enforced their supposed laws, he really couldn't blame them either. Apparently, if someone perceived that you had wronged them, a third person in some fancy uniform would decided the right of it. What madness. The akalak had been to many places before he had come to Syliras, but the people in this city seemed beyond hope. He had visited the temple earlier, and was told that their their god was dead, yet they still worshiped him. The man there spoke of some nonsense about a tree that the knights talked to or some such, Aren wasn't really sure. His gods lived and breathed and walked amongst their people, so he couldn't really follow this human logic. Currently, the blue skinned giant found himself in a place that reminded him of a similar location that existed in Riverfall. He believed someone had called it the Stone Gardens, but he couldn't really be sure. Aren felt the tinge of nostalgia bite at the similarities between the locales, and he almost wished he was back home, for a second. "Bah!" he snarled, angry at himself. He had left for a reason, and that reason was still valid, after all this time. Of course, home was still home, and Riverfall almost beckoned him to return, if only for a short while. "Damn Syliras and all it's blasted similarities..." Aren mumbled absentmindedly, lost in thought for a moment.

[Atir Kandros]

OOC NoteSorry about the late reply, been busy lately Just as the sun began rising over Syliras, Atir woke to the smells of the city. That damp, musky lingering smell that lurked throughout most of Syliras, was burnt into his memory by now. "Business as usual, I guess", he muttered to himself. He pulled himself out of his rough bed, groaning as the muscles in his back complained about the recent movement. His hair apparently had a mind of its own, sticking up here and there, dry and unhealthy. He limped over to the kitchen, the weariness of last night's practice yet to relinquish its hold of him. He grabbed an apple, savoring the sweet, sugary flesh, which was exactly what he needed to satisfy his thirst and fatigue, the nectar revitalizing his mouth. He then ate some slices of bread with cheese, and prepared himself for the grueling morning ahead. He took a shower in his small bathroom, and put on some light clothing. He grabbed his quarterstaff that was lying near the door, and packed an assortment of fresh apples, pears, a small hunk of cheese, and a loaf of bread into his backpack for later. With everything prepared, he set out to the stone gardens for training. The second he was in the street, his senses were assaulted on all fronts, the smells of the bakers, the sounds of hagglers in the marketplace, of the carriages, the site of all the different stores that claimed they had the best prices. It may be the safest place in the world, but civilized may be stretching the truth. Atir headed towards the stone gardens, avoiding the beggars on the streets who made you always feel bad for not having anything spare to give. Even if the knights attempted to make everyone a productive member of society, there were only so many knights compared to the vast population of Syliras. As he began to approach the stone gardens, Atir's muscles slowly began unwinding themselves. "Ah, much better. Today's already looking good." He said with a grin on his face. To tell the truth, he was right. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and although the farmers were busy shipping their grain to Mithrin Outpost, here in the stone garden the effects weren't seen, or heard. It was almost a different world, so quite and....tranquil, almost unnatural for the boisterous city. Upon arriving in the garden, Atir set his things down by a nearby tree, and took shade under it. He grabbed a nearby rock, smooth and round, and began moving it around in his hands, getting a feel for it. He did this until he knew the rock like the back of his hand, every crevice, every bump and rough patch, every single detail about the rock. After a while of this, he began to concentrate with his djed on it, breathing deeply. With one deep exhale, he sent out a tiny cloud of djed, moving it around for a little bit, focusing more intently on his rock. For this to work, he needed to know as much about the rock as possible. He felt the grainy surface, how every bump rose. He began surrounding the rock with his djed, very slowly at first, and then increasingly until it was completely surrounded. He began to filter out the sounds of the birds in the trees, of the wind whistling through the grass, the warm sun on his back and feet, until his mind was solely focused on that rock. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to will his djed into a shield, weaving it over the rock, noting every crack and crevice the shield would be incorporated to, the grainy surface that the shield would mimic. He began visualizing the threads of his shield overlapping, like weaving a tight cloth. Strand by strand, the shield slowly formed around the rock, a swirling vortex of blue. Eventually, finished, Atir opened his eyes. "Damnit!" he swore, as he regarded his uneven shield. Although being his best work by far, it still left much to be desired. Too much for his liking. The shield covered the rock, but the thickness varied immensely from one end to another, being far from uniform. In some spots it lacked the shield altogether for a couple of centimeters. He cleared the shield, and began the same drill, over and over until the process was drilled into his mind.

[Aren]

Upon centering himself, regaining his usual composure and mental discipline, Aren became conscious that he might not find himself alone in this place. He quieted, all of a sudden, trying to determine the source of his misgivings. The rather clear and succinct curse that he had heard had, fortunately, given him a direction to focus on. Honestly, Aren hoped it was not a knight that he had stumbled into, wary as the akalak was of any ridiculous law he might be breaking by daring to damn Syliras. If it was, however, he wasn't so sure he wanted to find the man, self righteous as knights tended to be. Curiosity getting the better of him, Aren dutifully tracked down the noise he had heard earlier, finally finding it sitting beneath a tree. With a sigh of relief, the akalak realized that this boy could not possibly be a knight, as he did not even seem old enough to be considered a grown man. The fact that he was playing with a rock simply didn't do much to dissuade the notion. Aren made his presence know as he laughed at his own paranoia, assuming his ponderous steps had not already done the deed for him. "Damn knights have got me jumping at shadows..." he mumbled, cognizant of his own motivations. With the mystery solved to his satisfaction, the blue skinned giant turned his mind towards more pleasant thoughts, though perhaps pleasant wasn't the right word. He had been trying various different types of beverages since he had come to Syliras, in an attempt to find one which suited his palette, and the akalak figured that he might continue that quest today. It was likely a futile endeavor, but he was nothing if not persistent. Pretty much ignoring the boy who sat underneath the tree, Aren turned about, looking for the exit to the so-called gardens he currently found himself in. "Did I come from the north... or the south?" he wondered, before simply picking a direction and figuring that the green had to end at some point.

[Atir Kandros]

As Atir began trying variety with his shields, he noted the small blades of grass. He picked one up, once more feeling it, becoming almost a part of it. He felt every edge, the veins inside of it that once transferred food throughout the plant. He closed his eyes, almost falling asleep with the warm sun shining around him. He began focusing intently on that blade of grass, his continuous, deep breathing extruding Djed around it, until he had the size he needed. He kept focusing intently on that blade of grass, separating his Djed into thin strands, weaving them around the grass, looping them. Slowly they began to surround the blade of grass, as he layered them to the grains, to every irregular spot in the grass. Once he was satisfied, he pulled on the ends of the Djed, tightening it into a neat representation of fabric. He willed it into a shield, and opened his eyes. This one may have still been far from perfect, but he had mostly covered it, with varying strengths. It would take some time until he learned how to not amass so much Djed into certain areas, and instead create a uniform shield. For now he was content, and willed the shield out of existence. While he moved the rock through his hands, Atir sensed somebody watching him. He didn't know where the thought came from, or how he realized, as if some 6th sense had alerted him to the presence of a massive, blue-skinned figure. "An Akalak!" Atir said in awe to himself. He had only heard tales of this massive, only male race, and had rarely seen them in Syliras before. He managed to subdue his curiosity, and began to eat some lunch from his pack. Grabbing an apple and some cheese, he chewed them absent-mindedly, thinking of his shields. He definitely needed to practice more, until he could at the very least completely cover an object. As with all skills, it would take time until he'd reach that level, but he looked forward to the day. Trying again, Atir grabbed his rock, which at this point caused him annoyance whenever he saw it, and began focusing. Yet again he breathed in and out for several minutes, noting the rise and fall, the rhythmic beating of his heart. He began feeling the rock, more intently than before. He let the rock scrape his hands, memorizing the grainy surface. In one smooth exhale, he created a cloud of Djed, surrounding the rock. He began to compact the Djed, willing it into a shield as it closed around the rock. He draped it over the rock as a blanket, making sure it surrounded as much as possible. He wanted to make sure his shield covered as much of the rock as possible, stretching out the shield over the rock to make sure it reached the ends. When he finished, the only part not protected by the shield was the rounded end of the rock, the rest thickest at the center but then irregularly thinning out as it went farther from the middle. He kept this shield up for a minute or two, then destroyed it, and relaxed. In a little bit he'd reattempt it, but for now he'd just like to lay in the shade of that tree, the frail warmth from the sun foreshadowing the hot summer months ahead.

[Aren]

Apparently, the green did not, in fact, have to end at some point. After wondering about the gardens for long minutes, Aren began to suspect that the place might actually be a maze designed to trap the unwary within, the possibility that he might simply be lost never actually entering his mind. Eventually making his way back to the same spot from where he had decided to leave, the akalak once against encountered the boy sitting underneath the tree. Perhaps the poor bastard was stuck here, as well. If so, he certainly seemed to be taking the matter rather well, calmly relaxing in the shade of the oak. As the akalak's shadow further blocked the sunlight hitting the young man, Aren looked around to see if there were any other unfortunate souls in this place. Upon detecting none, he figured that they were on their own in their endeavor to escape. "You know, I don't think we're going to find a way out of here by sitting on our asses," Aren said, directing his comment at the only other individual present. The akalak's annoyance at his inability to leave was beginning to take a toll on his manners, and his jaw was, presently, clenched in obvious frustration. His mind tried to make sense of the layout of the gardens, but the fact that it all looked alike did nothing for his state of mind. Actually finding himself desiring the presence of a knight, Aren laughed out loud at the irony of it; the one time he actually needed one, there were none to be found.

[Atir Kandros]

"What's that sound?" The thought came out of nowhere, and Atir slowly listened to footsteps, pretending to still meditate. He heard the mysterious person address him, only to open his eyes and see the Akalak from earlier that day. "Find a way out, but if I know the way out?" Atir remarked, confused with the Akalak's statement. Maybe he was new to town? Suddenly Atir felt very uncomfortable. The sun was getting hotter as it hit the peak of the day, and his clothes were starting to slightly burn his skin. He became very conscious of his pulse, and started to sweat all over. It was unusually hot for the spring, and it was taking its toll on him. He began to look at the Akalak, as he had never seen one of the fabled all-male race before. He was significantly taller than Atir himself, and boasted much more brute strength. He noticed the Akalak was angry about something, tensing his fists and jaw. He decided he'd have to be very careful about his next words, lest he incur the wrath of the bulking man. Atir realized he was staring at the Akalak while he was studying him, and abruptly broke the silence. "Oh sorry, where are my manners. I am Atir, and you are?" Atir said, listening closely for the reply.

[Aren]

The young man, apparently, did not understand the predicament that he seemed to find himself in. Perhaps the heat and the isolation had gotten to him even before Aren had arrived. The akalak, for his part, could merely guess at how long one would have to be trapped in this place before they went completly insane. Honestly, he was just glad the boy hadn't come at him, in his madness. Pleasantly surprised, however, by this Atir's rather lucid politeness, Aren saw no reason not to exchange greetings. "I am Aren. Aren Anazasz," the akalak replied, as cordially as he could manage, given the situation. The blue skinned giant eyed Atir carefully. He seemed nervous, for some reason, which only served to arouse Aren's suspicions. Between that and his maddening inability to be free of these infernal gardens, his disposition simply was not prone to improvement. With an impatient growl, Aren once again inspected his surroundings, looking for some clue that would lead him towards escape from this leafy labyrinth. Detecting nothing that he could have called a promising lead, he turned his attention back to the young man in front of him. "So... Atir, what fool's errand brought you to this pleasant little hellhole?" Aren inquired, not exactly certain he could trust anything that this stranger said. He was likely insane, after all. Either that, or... A rather disturbing thought entered the akalak's mind: What if Atir was not a fellow captive, but a plant whose purpose was to hinder his attempts to leave? Aren's paranoia seemed irrational and illogical, even to him, but that didn't mean he was wrong. His whole body tensed at the thought, adding to his already stern-looking demeanor.

[Atir Kandros]

Atir was confused by this particular Akalak's behavior. He seemed lost, and kept eyeing Atir as if he was mad. Atir on the other hand, was calm, enjoying the day, even if it was inexplicably hot. He made sure to make a mental note of the tall Akalak's name, thinking it may be worth remembering. He eyed the Akalak, trying to see if he could get any hints on why he was so..awkward at the moment. "Well I guess I'm no aura reader or whatever they call themselves..." He thought quietly to himself. The one thing he did catch, however, was that the Akalak kept looking at his surroundings, and seemed to get more frustrated as more time passed. Trying not to push the matter further, Atir realized while he was dawdling, the Akalak had asked him a question. "Oh, sorry, I'm here to practice my skills, I hope to one day be admitted into the ranks of Syliran Mage Knights. Currently, I'm not too good, as you could probably see from my frustration during practice." Atir remarked. He had to admit he was being hard on himself however, his shielding was pretty good for the shoddy on and off practice he normally did. But now things were getting serious, he would have to train much harder and much more often if he had any chance of becoming a knight. They didn't accept just anyone, and an inexperienced magic wielder had more hazard than help about them. "Currently, I'm focusing really on shielding, which is still really hard for me to do quickly, but I'm pretty good at Flux, if I may say so myself." Atir added, somewhat proud of his skill in the flux. It was his most prized skill, and one that had made him the victor of more than one fight. He didn't bother mentioning his skill with the Quarterstaff and Reimancy, which were both virtually non-existant. He was improving his quarterstaff skills however, and his power in flux made up for his crude technique. Right now, he was really just focusing on landing hits on his target, none of the finer moves such as disarming opponents or counterattacking. Atir made a mental note to practice later, as a mage knight was still responsible for learning some form of non-magical combat, and it complemented his flux greatly. In fact, if he could learn some more advanced techniques with his quarterstaff, he could use some more advanced flux maneuvers, rather than simply moving his Djed to overcharge his arm swings. Noting he was rambling in his head, Atir quickly snapped to attention, somewhat awkwardly. "My bad, I must have drifted off. What brings you to these tranquil gardens?" Atir asked. More than just smalltalk, Atir found himself genuinely paying attention to the Akalak's response. If he was a good fighter, Atir could definitely use a training partner to practice with, and maybe they'd both learn something useful. Atir suddenly realized his stomach was growling with hunger, most likely a side effect of the training. While still looking at the Akalak, Atir reached into his sack for some bread and cheese. When he realized his impoliteness, he was quick to offer some of his food. "Oh, excuse me, where are my manners? Would you like some food? I don't have much, especially not for someone so...large, but food is food." Atir quickly said, while spreading cheese on his slice of bread.

[Aren]

Aren listened to his new acquaintance's spiel, all the while paranoid that everything that came out of his mouth was a pack of lies. "Uh-huh, sure..." he mumbled, pretending to go along with it. At Atir's mention that he was training some type of magic skills, the akalak grew even more suspicious. Magic was not exactly a subject one easily broached with a stranger, even for one who aspired to be a mage knight. He wasn't entirely clear on all the laws of Syliras, especially the ones regarding the arcane arts, but Aren knew there were very few places in this world were one could openly discuss the subject. In some places, like Sunberth, you did not want to be caught doing anything that had to do with magic. Even just talking about it could bring a mob of angry hooligans down on your head. "Oh, you don't say?" Aren mused. Determined to catch this impudent man-child in his own web of lies, the akalak decided to go along with this charade. Upon Atir's offer of food, Aren declined with a polite nod. Seeing as he didn't trust anything the individual in question said, he certainly wasn't about to take any food from him. Even though... he had missed breakfast, as his stomach promptly reminded him, and he hadn't brought anything to eat with him. "I don't suppose you'd mind... demonstrating, would you?" Aren asked, in regard to Atir's magic skills, certain that his request would force the spy to expose himself, and bring this matter to a swift conclusion.

[Atir Kandros]

As Atir was rambling, the poor Akalak just kept responding with short answers. Once Atir was finished, the Akalak asked for a display of his skill. Atir was worried, not many people wished to have anything to do with magic, and he was really stupid for even bringing it up. Maybe the Akalak was an undercover Syliran Knight who was going to arrest him? Or he was an idiot blaming magic users for the Valterrian? Whatever it was, Atir didn't think this man...or...Akalak was genuinely interested in his skills. "Ummm, sure!" Atir said, beginning to think what to do. The wind was strong, and there was way too much greenery around to even ATTEMPT fire reimancy, and his shielding might be too slow for the Akalak's liking. Noticing the swaying branches of the tree, and the luscious apples at the top, he had an idea. Grabbing his gauntlet and putting it on for whatever protection would afford, he walked up to the tree, swinging his arm to get ready. "You might want to stand back!" Atir added quickly Atir took about a second to feel for his Djed currents, syncing with how they rushed to muscles. He got a feel for the streams, how they moved, their patterns not dissimilar to those of a river, rushing wildly through his body. He quickly amassed as much Djed as possible in his arm, punching the tree to leave a gaping hole in the center, and causing all the apples to fall. "Good enough?" He asked, looking expectantly at the Akalak.