Mid-spring, 515
It seemed that life's interesting events all happened at night. Mostly it was because Xira was busy during the day, but on those few days that he gave himself the day off (the joys of self employment) he found himself being far more active in the evening. That evening started with some magic practice in the training room in the Sanctuary. It occurred to Xira after interacting with Aoren that he should actually work on magic as a means to defend himself. It was typical of a wizard to bring down the wrath of the elements around their foes. Or so the stories go. So it certainly made sense to work on playing the part.
The training room was a perfect place for such training as well. It was hidden away from disapproving eyes and held useful tools such as a target and various training aids from the armory. As he stood there, twenty paces from the target with his gear and a stack of books near the doorway, his thoughts turned to Aoren and Caelum. It was muddy mental waters to wade through when one thought of Caelum on his own, but Aoren had a similar effect but in a different way. Where Caelum was physically attractive, with a brooding personality to match, Aoren's personality meshed with Xira's in a way that he had never encountered before. Kindred spirits perhaps?
The courier drew up his res with a gesture of his hand and a vocal key. While intellectually he knew they were not necessary, the ritual helped focus his concentration. It gave him control over his djed. He started to shape it as he thought. There was something between those two as well. Something instinctual that Xira picked up on, and the man was dense to social situations. It was interesting, to say the least. It somewhat mirrored his feelings for Kavala. They smecked of his feelings of desiring her but also not really knowing enough about her. They were friends, and perhaps lovers, if she thought about it that way. Perhaps he was wrong about Caelum and Aoren. Perhaps his own feelings were... not wrong, but mistaken. It sort of amused Xira at how the situation could easily be something far more complex than a love triangle if someone did the wrong or perhaps right thing.
Of course, this was not the best time to be thinking about romance.
Xira cleared his mind of the distraction, seeking his core. When his mental hands reached that stone, what he had come to know his self to be, he spread his awareness out of his body and into the djed being shaped before him. He needed to hit the target before him and to do that he had to overcome his range. To do that he had to figure out what that range was. How far could he actually still control his res. Xira made another gesture and spread both his palms and fingers parallel to the ground. With that gesture he commanded his ball of res to split up into ten equal parts. Each glob was roughly the size of a marble.
He eyed each violet colored sphere of liquid res suspended in the air. The wizardling took a moment to marvel and wonder at the beauty of just... magic. It wasn't even his doing that he could appreciate, just the creation of supernatural things. He pointed at one of the globules of res and concentrated on it carefully. Truthfully, it was difficult to isolate the res into ten parts, but it helped when he attached the mental image of his fingers. If they were extensions of his digits, he could keep better track of them. So with one res ball in mind, he pushed it farther and farther away from himself until he felt his contact with his djed sever. He imagined that it was like losing a limb or a vital sense. It was not dissimilar to transmutation, but that was usually accompanied with a sort of blindness. Perhaps that was an instinct? It made sense if it meant habitually cutting off portions of one's essence to be made into base materials.
His range appeared to be roughly a few arm lengths away. Great for close combat, not so great if he wanted to use it as a missle. Already the Res out of his control was dissolving into air. At least he had 9 other bits of res available to him.
When Xira was working with Aoren over his shielding dilemma, Aoren asked him to attack his shield with Reimancy as a object lesson. Xira knew he could create stone and then lob the stone that way. Depending on his throw, he could do some serious damage this way. However, this was neither ideal nor efficient. What he needed was a way to achieve more speed, to transmute his djed in mid strike rather than rely on the limits on his body.
Something near the doorway caught his attention then. Something like the rustle of cloth, or the soft footfalls of leather soled boots. "Hello? Who's there?" He called out as he turned to face the newcomer. Surely it wasn't too late that people would not be about, but time in Semele's embrace had a way of distorting. He squinted his eyes and attempted to make out the form coming near. The lack of concentration and his emotional state caused the balls of res to orbit slowly about himself, as if he might use them in an instinctive strike of some sort.
It seemed that life's interesting events all happened at night. Mostly it was because Xira was busy during the day, but on those few days that he gave himself the day off (the joys of self employment) he found himself being far more active in the evening. That evening started with some magic practice in the training room in the Sanctuary. It occurred to Xira after interacting with Aoren that he should actually work on magic as a means to defend himself. It was typical of a wizard to bring down the wrath of the elements around their foes. Or so the stories go. So it certainly made sense to work on playing the part.
The training room was a perfect place for such training as well. It was hidden away from disapproving eyes and held useful tools such as a target and various training aids from the armory. As he stood there, twenty paces from the target with his gear and a stack of books near the doorway, his thoughts turned to Aoren and Caelum. It was muddy mental waters to wade through when one thought of Caelum on his own, but Aoren had a similar effect but in a different way. Where Caelum was physically attractive, with a brooding personality to match, Aoren's personality meshed with Xira's in a way that he had never encountered before. Kindred spirits perhaps?
The courier drew up his res with a gesture of his hand and a vocal key. While intellectually he knew they were not necessary, the ritual helped focus his concentration. It gave him control over his djed. He started to shape it as he thought. There was something between those two as well. Something instinctual that Xira picked up on, and the man was dense to social situations. It was interesting, to say the least. It somewhat mirrored his feelings for Kavala. They smecked of his feelings of desiring her but also not really knowing enough about her. They were friends, and perhaps lovers, if she thought about it that way. Perhaps he was wrong about Caelum and Aoren. Perhaps his own feelings were... not wrong, but mistaken. It sort of amused Xira at how the situation could easily be something far more complex than a love triangle if someone did the wrong or perhaps right thing.
Of course, this was not the best time to be thinking about romance.
Xira cleared his mind of the distraction, seeking his core. When his mental hands reached that stone, what he had come to know his self to be, he spread his awareness out of his body and into the djed being shaped before him. He needed to hit the target before him and to do that he had to overcome his range. To do that he had to figure out what that range was. How far could he actually still control his res. Xira made another gesture and spread both his palms and fingers parallel to the ground. With that gesture he commanded his ball of res to split up into ten equal parts. Each glob was roughly the size of a marble.
He eyed each violet colored sphere of liquid res suspended in the air. The wizardling took a moment to marvel and wonder at the beauty of just... magic. It wasn't even his doing that he could appreciate, just the creation of supernatural things. He pointed at one of the globules of res and concentrated on it carefully. Truthfully, it was difficult to isolate the res into ten parts, but it helped when he attached the mental image of his fingers. If they were extensions of his digits, he could keep better track of them. So with one res ball in mind, he pushed it farther and farther away from himself until he felt his contact with his djed sever. He imagined that it was like losing a limb or a vital sense. It was not dissimilar to transmutation, but that was usually accompanied with a sort of blindness. Perhaps that was an instinct? It made sense if it meant habitually cutting off portions of one's essence to be made into base materials.
His range appeared to be roughly a few arm lengths away. Great for close combat, not so great if he wanted to use it as a missle. Already the Res out of his control was dissolving into air. At least he had 9 other bits of res available to him.
When Xira was working with Aoren over his shielding dilemma, Aoren asked him to attack his shield with Reimancy as a object lesson. Xira knew he could create stone and then lob the stone that way. Depending on his throw, he could do some serious damage this way. However, this was neither ideal nor efficient. What he needed was a way to achieve more speed, to transmute his djed in mid strike rather than rely on the limits on his body.
Something near the doorway caught his attention then. Something like the rustle of cloth, or the soft footfalls of leather soled boots. "Hello? Who's there?" He called out as he turned to face the newcomer. Surely it wasn't too late that people would not be about, but time in Semele's embrace had a way of distorting. He squinted his eyes and attempted to make out the form coming near. The lack of concentration and his emotional state caused the balls of res to orbit slowly about himself, as if he might use them in an instinctive strike of some sort.