[The Bronze Woods]Surpassing the Void

by **Clyde Sullins** on January 17th, 2016, 12:34 am

1 Winter 515

Clyde let out a sigh as he surveyed his camp site.

It was a nice enough area in the bronze woods, though with winter coming quickly the air was cooling and the nights were chill. He had a tent, bedroll, and thick winter blanket, all of which helped at night, but still it was a cold season.

As the first snow hadn't yet fallen the ground was still dry, and camping wasn't overly difficult so close to Syliras. He wouldn't want to do it for more than a day or two, but he could manage for a time.

However this trip wasn't simply about camping, but about learning.

He'd felt his Voiding grow each time he'd used it. He had slowly been carving a better understanding of the djed branch, in the particular fashion of purposing djed. Slowly his blood and bones were becoming attuned, becoming saturated with attunement and understanding, even as they had previously become attuned to Reimancy and Auristics.

Now those magics, personal magics using his own bodies djed, were as natural as breathing. Or at least, as easy as breathing, Clyde reminded himself. Nothing about magic was natural or automatic, as by its nature it was a foreign change caused by the twisting of djed.

Every time he used it, every time he pushed himself with it, every time he neared the edge of his abilities with out going over them into overgiving, he felt a bit more understanding. The specific djed change inherent to voiding became easier with his own djed, as he understood what was needed to be done to make the change to the world about him.

He would make a fire later when the night grew cold, but for now he just pulled his robes closer and attempted to ignore the cool air against his flesh. For that was what he'd come to do today, out in the wilds outside of the paved roads and stone walls of Syliras. He'd come to understand nothing better, and nothing was what he would comprehend.

Clyde recalled back to his initiation, to his first moment of understanding nothing. Emptiness. Space devoid of all matter, not even air. What was voiding but a harnessing of this knowledge of emptiness, of space devoid of all stuff. Then using ones djed, they artificially created this space of emptiness, forcing its occurrence upon the fabric of space. Like a hole stabbed in a sheet, but instead in the air and space before them.

If he wanted to get better at voiding, Clyde knew he needed to better understand this emptiness, this idea of nothing. He needed to be able to ignore all else, ignore the cold upon his flesh, ignore the mundane matter of the world, and only know this emptiness. He needed to be able to do it not just in a calm setting, a warm quiet room, but even among distractions. Among the sounds of nature, the cold impassive winter air.

He knew that if he could do this, could reach this understanding in such a place, in such a setting, he'd be that much closer to reaching the next pinnacle of Voiding power.

Sitting upon his bedroll, knees crossed and Cha placed across his lap, Clyde closed his eyes and focused on nothing. He attempted to rein in his thoughts, the distractions and flickers of images and things within his mind. When he did not fill his focus with something, he found such things attempted to fill the space of the moment. He however knew he had to fight this natural reaction, had to keep his mind clear.

As he often did when he needed to focus on something, Clyde began to hum to himself, letting his mind fill with the wordless tune. Then he began to chant under his breath similar to an incantation, wording a meaningless rhyme, empty words without purpose that helped him focus on his task.

Clyde focused his mind on blackness, the blackness he'd seen within the void, empty of light, life, heat, or even the smallest speck of matter. He let his words flow empty and meaningless, devoid of thought, echoing force from his lips like a voice in a pitch black cave.

“A wish, a wash, a wrangled wiggle. A set, a sauce, a sitting salad. How does the cow now moo at the moon? Does the moon answer the moo of the cow? Does a moon at noon cocoon the buffoon? The touch, the toss, the tickled tiger. The tiger does bite, but only tastes the moon. The moon is sour, unpleasing to taste. The tiger roars but makes no sound. How can the moon hear it from so far away?”

Letting his words of meaningless drivel fall from his lips, Clyde focused his mind, focused on blackness, focused on emptiness and nothing. It was not an easy task, since just the attempt at focusing, at comprehending, tended to draw ones mind to one concept or another. This made the focus on the understanding of nothing all the harder.

Clyde drew in a long slow breath, imagining he was filling himself with nothing, with empty void, not air. He imagined the nothing spreading, sweeping like ink to devour his body and leave nothing behind. The nothing swept up through his gut, spreading and eating without so much as a bite or a taste. Nothing was empty. It did not eat with anger, malice, hunger, or any other human emotion. It was nothing, was void, was devoid of all purpose or thought. It simply was and did.

As Clyde exhaled, he heard a twig snap, and his eyes by instinct split open.

In a rush the world returned to him, and he recalled the cool air pressing on his flesh, he recalled the trees and the ground and the woods he sat in. He noticed that he'd set his bedroll across a stone, and that the tiny stone had been pressing on him as he sat on it.

He opened his eyes to see the threat that had broken his concentration, and saw a rabbit hopping across the clearing, having broken a small twig as it passed.

WC: 1029

by **Clyde Sullins** on January 17th, 2016, 4:48 pm

Clyde was annoyed to say the least. He was annoyed at his lapse in concentration. He was annoyed that the rabbit had been the cause of it. He was annoyed that it was his failing in truth, but couldn't help but blame the rabbit for existing instead of himself.

It was easier, he supposed, to blame another for his failing than himself.

For a moment a small surge of rage rose, and Clyde considered killing the rabbit. With his skills in Reimancy he could end it with but a thought. But as he contemplated the act, he knew it wouldn't help. If anything giving in to his rage, to his visceral feeling and wants, would only make his work harder. The void did not have rage. Did not have feelings. It just was. Just as the void, he needed to swallow all without becoming it. He focused on his rage, focused on the rabbit he'd considered killing, and let it flow inside of him. Then he focused within himself, focused on the void he'd imagined swallowing earlier when he inhaled, and imagined his hate and rage pouring into it.

Breathing in, he sucked in the anger, breathing out he focused on it fading and being swallowed up. The black pit of emptiness consumed at a steady pace, did not reach for anything but only devouring what met it.

He imagined the rage falling into the inky blackness of the void, and after a few moments felt the anger subside. He looked at the rabbit, the tiny beast that had tensed at his sudden movement and was staring back at him. He felt nothing. He only accepted. He accepted the rabbit existed. He accepted he had failed, and needed to work harder. He accepted none of it mattered, and that he would need to continue onward.

However Clyde did make one small concession to his distractions. Reaching underneath his bedroll, he pulled out the stone he'd noticed he was resting on, and set it before him. Then he began to chant once more, this time staring at the rabbit as the meaningless words fell out of him. With his eyes open he attempted to see all, while still focusing on the emptiness and void. He accepted the world, the rabbit, and the trees, and attempted to believe that their existence didn't contradict the emptiness of the void.

“A bunny, a bat, a billowing badger. They sat on a rat, and played pat with the cat. Echoing, echoing, their play sang forth. Their song was lost, spoken but not of words. Their song was lost, echoed but not heard. Their song was lost, seen but not believed.”

As he spoke the rabbit began to move again, and Clyde watched its progress. When it exited the clearing he imagined it had exited existence, had faded and now existed in the void.

Following this line of thought he imagined that everything beyond his senses was void. Only he in his tiny wordlet existed, and everything and everyone else was emptiness and void. When things entered his worldlet they were being birthed by the empty void, collected and created from the nothingness. Isolated as he was in the woods, the imagined scenario was much easier to believe.

Within himself he imagined the void from before, imagined it existed quietly within himself, ready to burst forth into existence when he willed it.

Focusing his mind, he attempted to new tactic. He would open a portal, but in a different fashion than usual. He would focus not on size of the portal, not on movement, but on creation. He would attempt to open the portal as quickly as possible, attempting to better himself in the time it took for him to make and open it.

Surely, he thought to himself, it didn't take everyone including skilled users so long to open the first spark of the portal. Perhaps then if he focused on bettering this one thing, he could.

Focusing his intent he picked up Cha in one hand, and focused on a spot in space just above her head.

He began to chant as he willed that spot to empty, that tiny pinprick in the blanket that was the space before him. Through that pinprick he'd see into the void, see into emptiness.

“Empty and void, you rest and desist. Air parts before you, sinew sings in harmony. The space pulls and purrs, attempting to resist. But if it thinks it can wait, its no more a master of its fate than the littlest of a crony.”

As he finished his odd little rhyme, Clyde willed the space to part, to cut, to empty, and become devoid of all. He felt the manifestation of his will, and felt the small tingle on his spine as djed was transformed to make a change, and the portal opened.

He frowned however, as it had taken far too long. At least three quarters of a chime. Pitiful. Willing the tiny spot of void to fill, willing it to cease to exist and return the space to normal, he refilled the portal and watched its pinprick of nothing wink out of existence.

He could do better. He knew this. He fought the urge to grow annoyed at himself, to let the emotion take hold, instead forcing it down into the void in his gut, letting it seep out of him. Anger wouldn't help now, not even anger at himself. Anger was a distraction. He knew he needed to do better, could do better, and so he would.

Taking in a slow breath, Clyde let it out, and focused his intent. He focused on nothing, on the empty void, on emptiness. He focused on true nothing, not sound, not heat, not light, not life, not even air being sucked in through his mouth. He breathed in nothing. He was nothing. He was but a clay doll, a golem existing without feeling or emotion, ready to be sculpted.

Breaking from his line of thought, Clyde cursed, unsure where the thought had come from. After a moment he recalled it was something he did when morphing, another magic he practiced. Apparently, he thought to himself, he'd gotten his wires crossed, perhaps an inevitable thing when one attempted to convince oneself they were so many different things for different magics needs.

WC: 1059

by **Clyde Sullins** on January 17th, 2016, 6:15 pm

Clyde was nothing. Clyde was a golem ready to be shaped. He was a storm, fire, lightning, or earth. Clyde was a flare of life, one among many shining in darkness. Now that he thought back on it, Clyde realized in doing many of his personal magics an aspect of the process as believing himself to be something specific.

For voiding he was emptiness, his mind devoid of though, meditating and grasping at the idea of nothing. For morphing he was but a golem, a false shape, or an object. A object ready to be shaped, shaped as if his flesh was but clay.

With Reimancy, when doing a powerful spell, he often lost himself in his magic and lost the mental distinction between the him of his mundane body and the him that was the elements his res fused and worked with.

Were these contradictory? Or where they each true in the moment? Was he at once earth, clay to be shaped, and nothing? Was he each in turn? Were they contradictory, or could he be more than one at once?

It occurred to Clyde why often enough using more than one magic was so difficult. It wasn't simply the djed drain, nor the concentration needed. It was perhaps more so the belief and deeply held idea one focused on in doing a magic, or a particular transmutation of djed for a stated end.

He had less issue when he was more skilled in one than the other, such as say using his Reimancy and morphing at once, but he'd never been able to use two magics at once that he was equally new to and little more than an initiate.

Perhaps, Clyde realized, it was because by the time he had become truly skilled in a magic, holding the particular belief or idea in his head needed to do the magic had become second nature.

He didn't need to try and focus his intent and will on making res, on influencing and being it, not like when he'd first started. Now he simply willed it, and it happened. He had the confidence to do the task, but also the technical skill and know how. He had experience.

Before he had never considered that aspect of magic use, but perhaps it was more than simply becoming more and more familiar with the process of the particular djed transmutation in the specific magic, and in part also a honing of the understanding and connection to the idea prominent in the magic.

It made even more sense then what he was doing here today, attempting to hone his understanding and connection to the idea so prominent in voiding.

He knew though that if he wanted to excel in his magics, and to use them together, he would need to be able to make sense of the disparate ideas, and find a sense of harmony between them. He had to believe them all equally, or else he'd be limited to one at a time.

Considering the implications, Clyde pondered what perhaps he could do with morphing to better his voiding. The void was a harsh place. He didn't doubt that he wouldn't last long there. But perhaps using morphing, he could overcome this to a degree, and find ways to make himself safe there. He doubted he would ever as a human be able to live in the void, but perhaps he could find ways to extend the time he could safely spend there.

After all, one of the threats most clear in voiding was the risk of voiding himself. What if upon that happening, he was prepared for it? Those extra second or however long he would be safe could mean the difference between life and death.

He didn't doubt it would involve trial and error. First he'd need to see what was the greatest threat. This would likely involve pitching living things into the void, and seeing what killed them. Then perhaps he could create fixes with voiding, and place those fixes upon test subjects using glyphing.

He could then conceivably bit by bit eliminate threats to his body, and extend the time he could survive. If for instance he could hold his breath longer, perhaps that would aid? A layer of thick fat or something akin to it to ward off cold and heat loss? He wasn't sure if there weren't other issues, but that was something to be figured out another day.

For now he focused his mind, imagining himself as nothing and bringing along with it the image of his body as a clay golem. In morphing, he had to believe he had no shape, not set body. He was nothing but endless possibility. In voiding, he was nothing, nothingness was he. Perhaps then, in that mindset, the the two weren't so far apart and contradicting?

Letting out another breath, Clyde focused his mind, imaging once more the void of emptiness filling him as he inhaled.

He kept this up for several breaths, before he began to attempt to pierce the fabric of space and pull open a portal.

“Nothing is something except when its nothing. Possible and impossible, the same but different. Over distinctions, I won't be fussing. As a hole in space, I do tear a rent.”

As he spoke his incantation, he willed the djed in his body to move, to cause an affect, and to empty the one spot he stared at above Cha. Through her he willed the magic to take place, her body an extension of his own.

After a few more moments, when his incantation had faded away, he felt the sudden sensation down his spine of djed altering, of magic, and felt through himself the connection to the new hole in space that was a voiding portal.

This one had been opened much more quickly, in barely over half a chime.

It wasn't a great improvement, wasn't a great big change, but Clyde knew progress was progress however big or small.

WC: 1003

by **Clyde Sullins** on January 17th, 2016, 7:30 pm

Through a connection of djed, djed used from Clyde in manifesting and opening the portal, Clyde could feel in space his portal. It sat, a tiny pinprick leading into nothing just above Cha's head.

Focusing on the portal, he willed a trickle of djed into it, feeding and stoking it like adding dry wood to a flame. In an outward ripple the portal swelled, stretching out into a rough circle where once it had been a dot.

As he fed it more djed, he felt in his mind the presence of the portal, felt it grow and swell. However he also noticed quickly that the trickle of djed he was sending wasn't enough.

At first the tiny pinhole portal had been able to grow quickly from the djed he sent it. However as it grew larger, the portal required more djed to sustain itself at its current size. It made sense then that keeping the flow of djed constant, the growth of the portal would slow and eventually stop. Eventually, he did not doubt, the steady stream of djed would only be able to keep the portal at its current size, and wouldn't grow it at all.

Either he would need to keep it at the given size when the djed consumption reached equilibrium with its current need, or he'd need to increase the djed he was flowing into it.

Clyde chose the latter. The largest portal he'd made so far was about as wide across as one extended palm. However he felt he could do more, that he could grow a portal to span more.

If nothing else two hand width, the size of both his hands extended out together against each other, could be a goal. It wasn't so much larger than what he'd done before, but was still a larger goal to be attained.

Surging the djed he was feeding into the portal, once more the size began to expand much more quickly. Soon enough it was half a hands span, then three quarters, and finally the span of his entire outstretched palm, fingers included.

Clyde attempted to stay calm, to focus his mind on nothing and nothingness, and to ignore all else. Any distraction would only make things more difficult. As he worked he slowly chanted under his breath, helping to narrow the focus of his mind.

“A wish and a wash, a wilted weary sash. A man and a mole, a molded mottled mouse. A sign not yet seen, a scene not yet sung. How many berries can combine to make a dream. An echo not heard, a sight unseen.”

Within a few moments however he felt the growth slow once more, even with the increased djed flow. It grew an inch... Then a half inch. A quarter inch. A fraction. The growth continued to slow, until once more it slowed and came to a stop, the djed he was feeding it only enough to sustain its current size. It had reached about a hand and a half span. It was certainly the largest portal he'd tried yet, but still he felt not at his limit.

He was considering increasing the flow of djed again, when he heard a rustle of fabric. His concentration snapping along with his flow of djed, the connection broke and the portal instantly shrunk an inch in span before holding.

Turning his gaze, he saw what had made the noise. Over by his tent, the rabbit had returned. It was attempting to eat a small bit of vegetation nearby, and in doing so had rubbed up against the tent fabric.

Reaching out with his mind, Clyde tried to feed djed to the portal once more, but all connection to his djed had been lost, and he couldn't sense or touch it with his will.

Without the flow of djed it wouldn't grow any larger, but neither would it sustain itself forever. Already he could see it was slowly shrinking, a steady but slow inversion of its prior growth.

It was already only a hand span across, and was still shrinking,

Turning to the rabbit, Clyde jumped up with Cha in hand, his annoyance growing to anger as he decided to smash the staff over the rabbits head.

But in the time it had taken him to get up and find the rabbit, it had already started moving. He headed towards the rabbit, and made it several paces till he was even with the tent, when the rabbit vanished. Ahead of him he saw a hindleg, and then it to vanished as the rabbit disappeared within a burrow in the ground.

Annoyed by his distraction, his failure to hold his portal, and now even losing the rabbit, Clyde let out a vicious low growl. It was the only concession to safety Clyde allowed himself in the moment, though he desired to let out a scream or a yell.

But he knew with the wiser and calmer part of his mind that it wouldn't help anything. Yelling would only draw attention, which was something he didn't want when he was out in the woods. First of all, he was out there practicing magic, he chastised himself, and the last thing he needed was someone responding to a yell.

Besides that, he was out in the wilds, and there were things besides people outside. Wolves, bears, and other manner of things took up residence outdoors. The last thing he needed was to attract one of them, and to be forced to defend himself.

Now that he had stopped using magic, he was suddenly aware of his fatigue. He wasn't exhausted, but he'd used a lot of his bodies energy in his spells, and he needed a rest.

Pulling his bedroll into his tent, Clyde pulled along his other things and prepared to rest. He'd be much better off if he waited to continue voiding practicing until the morning, his body having recuperated over time much of the djed he'd expended in a few instants.

WC: 1002

by **Clyde Sullins** on January 17th, 2016, 7:32 pm

Morning of 2 Winter 515

Rising on the second morning of his camping trip, Clyde felt renewed purpose. His rest had done him well, though a small hunger now nibbled at his gut.

He would certainly need to eat when he went back into town, and it would likely be the first thing he did when he went back, but for now he felt okay to proceed. He had eaten well enough before heading out the day before, and wasn't a half starved vagabond who had lived at length alone in the wilds. It would take more than a missed meal to bring him low.

More importantly he felt renewed and refreshed after his rest, the tiredness he'd felt soaking into his muscles and bones after his last magic use having vanished more or less. He wasn't perhaps at his peak performance, but he was far better off than if he'd pushed on with his magic practice right away when he'd last left off.

The morning air was chill, and he was tempted to stay in the warmth of his tent, but he knew better. The cool air would wake him up and erase the last vestiges of grogginess from his mind, and force him to work that much harder to focus.

He knew in reality when time came to use his magic, he wouldn't have the safety of a warm room or a full belly. All too likely he'd be using it when he was hungry, tired, distracted, or in danger upon his life.

How many times had he used his Reimancy when under attack, and how many times had it saved him? If he hadn't been able to focus in such moments, he would be sunk.

With regret he pulled open the fold of his tent, letting the cool air in and the stored warmth of his body from the enclosed space free itself.

Pulling out his bedroll, he prepared a spot to sit and focus on his magic. He was careful to pick a smooth spot free of debris, and brought it back more or less to where he'd had it the day before, being careful to avoid the same small stone that had annoyed him.

Focusing his mind in the morning air, Clyde began to chant an incantation once more, fixing his mind and narrowing his intent to the task at hand, namely opening up a portal to the void. The meaningless words and rhyme helped his mind focus, just as did his hand movements and motioned gestures when he used those. But today was a day for sitting and chanting, not moving and hand flapping.

“A buzz and a bill, a ball and a billet. A card and a crumb, a crust and a child. Eking and aching, soaking and seeking. Naughty naught it is to be peeking. A man from the earth, born under the stars that glitter. A ale and a frog, both of a taste oh so bitter. A flit of a flat, a flute and a fact. A dibble and a dabble, a deer and a dog.”

As Clyde spoke he focused his intent, letting his mind fill with it as the meaningless incantation spilled forth. He focused on nothing, and as he finished he imagined his inhale as pulling in the same emptiness as the day prior. His drivel said, he felt more centered, more ready to perform the task at hand. So long as he didn't consciously think of the words, instead letting them flow outward, they didn't interfere and helped to focus his mind. There pattern, their chaos, and their symmetry, all facets of the words melded into a single identity for one purpose.

Now ready to cast, Clyde imagined the emptiness within his gut, imagined the empty void within him, and impelled his will outward, willing the same void to appear before him. Taking up Cha in a two handed grip, he placed her head just above the small stone he'd moved, and began to will the portal into existence. As he did he began to chant once more, focusing himself not just on the idea but also now on the intent itself of opening the portal.

“Now you open, now you fly. Into space I tug and pry. Now you split like a sheet torn in twain. A gaze into emptiness, some would fight to stay sane. A flitter and a flutter, I break through my minds clutter. My heart does now pound, in shock it almost lets out a stutter. I will and I want, through small and large. Like down a river flown my djed flies smooth as a barge.”

At some point, Clyde wasn't sure exactly when during his incantation, he felt the connection and felt the voiding portal open. The pinhole sat before him, floating in space and of nothing. He wasn't sure when exactly it had opened during his words, but he was fairly certain it was less than a half chime. If he was better with mentally figuring time he'd have guessed it had been closer to a quarter chime, but he was never good at mentally figuring time even when he wasn't focusing on other tasks.

Willing djed into the portal, he expanded and grew it, till it was about the size of his clenched fist. Then adding a spin of sorts to the djed, forcing djed into a niche of the magic that was voiding, he willed some pull into existence. It was only in one direction, straight upward. He focused on the pilling, watching as the small stone or pebble he'd laid there the day before began to wobble and move slowly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the pebble began to rise, along with various motes of dirt and dust. Focusing his intent and djed flow into the portal and the pull, he watched as the pebble slowly rose.

It took a half chime or so, but in the end the pebble rose and fell upward through the voiding portal. The moment it passed through it disappeared, vanishing as surely as if it had fallen into the deepest of holes.

Letting out a sigh, Clyde cut off his flow of djed to the portal, letting it continue on as it was. With the added strain of the pull the portal closed quickly, shrinking until only a pinprick existed, and then even that closed leaving no physical trace of the portal.

Now that he was done, Clyde picked up and packed away his things, stowing his tent in his backpack and rolling his bedroll and placing it atop it. Turning about he got his sense of direction, and began to head back to Syliras. He knew what he'd be doing first thing when he got back. A warm meal, a full belly, and then a quick nap, before he did anything else. He planned to do nothing more strenuous the rest of the day once he returned than sitting and eating.

WC: 1159

by **Elias Caldera** on January 23rd, 2016, 11:54 pm

Behold, Your Just Reward!

Clyde Sullins

Graded as part of the Weekend Challenge!

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Solo [The Bronze Woods]Surpassing the Void