Open Let Us Begin

[Ubaid]

It is common practice for Benshira to share silent communion with their god Yahal. It is taught by the wise ones that a prayer can be more intimate if kept silent and spoken to the avatar of Yahal's love that lives within his chosen people. That not all prayers must be sung to the heavens and not all dialog with the gods must be vocal. Meditation is thus a key part of a Benshiran child's education, to learn stillness and inner balance. It is not a skill many master, nor is it a skill many choose to maintain. Stillness is a luxury that can not always be avoided in the desert. Regardless of whether or not one is an advanced practicioner or a child taking their first tentative steps down the path of calm it begins in the same fashion.

A neutral posture, resting with one's legs crossed on the floor, shoulders and back aligned but not rigid. The hands folded in the lap or resting upon the knees and the thumb and forefinger lightly touching on each hand to form small rings. Once the posture has been learned the next step is breathing, the gentle rhythm of inhalation and exhalation. Then comes the true test, the beginning of true stillness of self. The moment when the outer world falls away, the world within became the only thing that mattered and the inner flame burned in the minds eye.. It was here the wise ones said that the truest communion with The gods could be had.

Ubaid did not know if that was true that the gods were closer in that moment, he did not imagine they were. He suspected that the gods were far from interested the silent contemplation of their worshippers. But that did not mean the practice of meditation was without benefit. Indeed, ever since he had begun his training in the mystic arts Ubaid had been convinced of the value of meditation as a tool for the focus and manipulation of Djed. All magic could benefit from a calm state, from meditation and introspection. But on this occasion it was a very particular form of magic on which Ubaid was focused.

Ubaid had arrived long before dawn in the Gug Andjek in order to avoid much competition for space, night and day meant little to the Nuit but for his fellow mortals on the Island it meant a great deal. He was dressed simply in a tunic which had been once a rich blue but had faded slightly with time and set of breeches that still fit him well and had been patched well and only rarely. He had chosen a public laboratory for the day, one below ground and away from any of the more popular public workshops and labs. He had arrived bearing a small satchel of sand gathered from the beach, a bucket of water and a ragged cloth which he had spread out on the stone floor of the lab so that he could sit without further ruining his trousers. Once he had lain the cloth out and spread the sand before him he had immediately begun his meditative preparations, shutting out the world around him as he closed his eyes and began preparing his mind and will for what was to come next.

He had arrived on Sahova a season before, but now his wait was ending. Soon the Judgments would begin and he would put forth his own name for consideration. He had been patient, watching and learning from those around him. Exploring the portions of the island that he could and learning as much of its customs and traditions as could be pried from the helpful if unimaginative golems which roamed the land. He would be able to learn no more from outside the structure of the Islands politics, he would need to become a part of them if he was to grow his knowledge and abilities.

To become one of them he would need to be judged...

Ubaid focused on the flame within his minds eye, on the inner fire of his soul and the Djed that suffused and formed it. Slowly and reverently he began to envision the flame splitting, a small portion of the inferno splitting away from the greater whole to form it's own quiet fire. It was this portion that he now focused on. He pictured this small flame suffusing his flesh, burning in the hollow of his belly, just above his diaphragm. Now that flame liquefied, a burning fluid that set his blood alight with power and flowed through his veins. Ubaid kept his eyes closed as he moved his right hand, putting his palm up and splaying his hand. Leaning forwards he exhaled softly, but it was not only air which left his lungs... A thin misty blue substance delicately translucent and trailing like loose spider webs wafted from his mouth and began to swirl gently over his open palm.

The substance began to form into a flat plane six inches above his palm and twelve inches across as Ubaid exerted his will upon it, but almost as soon as it began to take shape he began to move his hand. Gently making slow flat circles with the hand, as though he were holding a goblet of liquor and was interested in checking its viscosity. The blue webs of res began to swirl in sympathy with the gentle movements as the plane began to twist and rotate. With increasing speed the rotation of Ubaid's hand continued and as the speed increased the res began to change. Rapidly a swirling tail of res began to fall from the plane above, like a whirlpool forming in in a formally calm lake. The throat of the swirling res widened until the plane had vanished entirely and a miniature twister of pure res stood eighteen inches tall from the palm of Ubaid's hand. The small tornado still glowed a faint blue and had the wispy consistency of spiders web. Slowly Ubaid began to still the rotation his hand and lowered it to the scattered sand before him, opening his eyes he nudged the baby tornado from his hand with a gentle push of willpower. The faint wispy blue glow vanished in an instant and a soft hum began to fill Ubaid's immediate area as the rotation of the construct increased and it began to suck up the sand he had scattered across the stones before him. Before his very eyes the small dust devil took full form and began to shift left and right across the floor in front of him. Keeping the rotation place with his will Ubaid began to repeat the process. Once more focusing on the inner fire of his Djed and splitting off another small piece.

A few moments later and he was ready for the next piece of his puzzle and raising his left hand he curled his fingers, from the palm of his hand a thick bluish gel like substance began to flow, as though he had run his hand through a pod of slime eels. This gel filled his palm and began to rise up turning into a sphere about eight inches in diameter slowly the ball began to rise, hovering over the caramel flesh of Ubaid's palm. For a moment the ball of Gel seemed inert, then Ubaids right hand rose. Opening his eyes he extended a single digit and pricked the orb with the tip of the finger and quickly pulled the digit back. As though his finger had been an ember in a barrel of Alcohal the sphere rippled into flame, a ball of waving fire that cast his features into sharp shadows in the gloomy lab. With a smile Ubaid slipped his cupped left and forward and dumped the burning globe into the throat of the swirling devil before him. The flames licked from the throat of the swirling air construct as the sand obscured the majority of its light so that a dull glow of orange suffused the whole tornado. Ubaid focused on increasing the heat and sent the sand devil, now carrying the Orb of flaming rez in it's heart a meter away and focused on increasing the heat of the flames. The individual grains of sand began to pop and snap rapidly as the moisture evaporated out of them and then began to glow a soft molten red. It was a beautiful sight. The heat-glowing grains of sand swirling up and down the sides of the whirlwind, streaking trails like miniature comets left in their wake.

Soon the flames were swirling above the sand-devil, long tongues slipping from the gullet of the wind tunnel like the sensory organ of fat elemental snake.

Ubaid allowed his moment of self satisfaction fade and lifted his hands, slowly he began to move them back and forth as though he were weaving a net around the air between his fingers. The burning sand-devil began to shiver and twist, the throat of the wind tunnel closed over and the whole construct rose off the ground as Ubaid focused on robbing the air from inside the rough ellipsoid he had formed in the air before him. Soon the orange glow of fire faded and the sand began to cool as the air that fed the magical flames was robbed from within the shape. Uncrossing his legs Ubaid rose slowly to his feet, never ceasing his smooth hand movements. It was a challenge and he nearly fell as he rose, he had been sitting for longer than he had thought. Gently he coaxed the air-shape, still swirling and keeping the sand aloft towards the bucket near his seat once the construct hovered over the pail he ceased his rotational hand movements and began to push his hands down towards the floor with his palms down. The construct sunk into the bucket with a hiss of rapidly cooling sand and a puff of steam which swirled weakly as the magic keeping up the rotation of the spell faded until only disturbed sandy water remained.

Ubaid took in a deep breath as he allowed his grip on the Rez to fade. He became aware of the world around him once more and drew in a deep, self pleased breath.

There was much room for improvement, but the key elements of his control were coming together well.

[Derain Roas]

Derain had remained at the Citadel by Brents orders. Waiting for a special item that he gave very little information about. It left the man to wander the halls and rooms of the place that he had spent time in the year before. The solid walls filled with magics both new and old. Golems that guarded the halls like massive sentries. Machines of magic that had been created to guard and watch much like himself. The golems were the only thing that truly held his interest in the Citadel, upon the day that Lorelei had pulled him out into the Bloodhills his heart and pride were consumed by the power that he had been given.

He sighed to himself, he could have taken to a lab and practiced some animation or even gone to the library and studied to increase his knowledge of the new found power he had been given. But that was not something he cared for, at least not at the moment. The to be warden was searching the grounds for something more interesting. Something more alive then the golems or old tomes. The judgments would be happening soon, bringing in new want to be wizards and maybe even potential wardens. A chuckle escaping the mans lips at the thought of someone trying to take his place. The man clad in leather armor strolled the into the Gug Andjak and walked quietly down its halls, descending into its lower levels. His eyes looking at the laboratory's that filled its ancient walls.

He held no true reason for being here other the to explore and wander until the item had arrived. The mans eyes landed on someone in the laboratory he had just entered. A pale blue tunic covering tanned skin. The man was a mage that was for sure as Derain could see over him and saw the flickering light of the fire. But that was not what had interested Derain. This man was a pulser as the Nuits would call them and very much alive. He continued to stand behind the man and watch him. He wondered if the man was here for a judgment or perhaps he was already a wizard here and Derain just did not know about him. There were many here that Derain did not know. But even more so he just didn't care. The Nuit's weren't his favorite people, though he did not down right hate them and ever respected some of them for their power. He preferred to be in the Hills and away from all of this.

He continued to watch the man from behind. Gathering what little information he could about the stranger while remaining quiet as to not disturb him. Derain did not know if the man could control the flames that he was playing with and he did not want to risk getting burnt. "Reimancy is forbidden within the labs." he said in a rather deep voice that echoed through the nearly empty room.