Closed Quiet Nights and Quiet Stars (Clyde)

[Sayana]

Summer 78, 516 AV

The heat of the summer’s day had dropped as the cool evening took its place. The caravan had stopped to set up camp a couple bells ago, and the smoldering remains of the campfires were all that was left of the dinner and food cleanup. Mosquitos buzzed through the air and Sayana slapped at her shoulder before returning her gaze to the glowing embers in the firepit.

Fire. To create it out of seemingly nothing. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was like as a reimancer. Within the folds of her cloak, she clutched Clyde’s book in a low hand. Not that she thought anything lowly of the book, but she had made it a habit to always keep it on her, lest it be read by unwanted prying eyes. She poked at the fire embers with a thin stick until the tip caught a flame. The flicker of fire burned in the dim light of the evening. A single flame in a sea of darkness. She recalled the image in which the mage said he would focus on when he concentrated or meditated.

Sayana pressed the stick into the ground and a thin tendril of smoke replaced the flame. She glanced back at her tent. It was all set up, with a proper sleeping pad and warm blanket. But it was cold and empty. Far too big for just herself. Not too far away she could see Clyde’s tent. In the faint light of the glowing coals, she saw the flicker of red from the eyes of his shadow dog laying in watch.

While most people had retired for the night, she wasn’t sure if Clyde was still up and about somewhere in the campsite or he was finished for the night. Turning her attention to the mage’s dog she spoke, “Hello there Rye, is your master about?” There was a rather distinctive lack of response.

She caught the gaze of the guard dog and began channeling her inner djed. She summoned the image of the time in which she had offered a piece of fish to the dog. However, she pictured it from the viewpoint of the canine. A dark skinned woman with multiple arms offering a piece of fish that smelled delicious. Instead of repeating the memory in which Rye had turned down the offering, she focused on the feeling of lunging quickly towards the dropped fish and tasting it. All the while she concentrated on weaving her magic into the momentary image and pushing it outwards to the dog.

“It’s okay Rye, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt your master either. I’m safe.” She let the feeling of safety and security transmit towards the dog. Then she broke the stare and got up to find a bone amongst the dinner scraps.

After setting it down about a foot away from the dog, she stopped only long enough to see Rye’s reaction then proceeded to Clyde’s tent. “Clyde? Are you still awake?” She found her mouth wet and salivating, and she blinked several times trying to snap herself out of it. Before proceeding she chose her words carefully to avoid revealing any secrets lest she be overheard.

“May I join you? I can’t help but wonder about Nyka and the cities beyond. I also finished reading the book you lent me.”

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

78 Summer 516

Clyde was awakened from his nap by a tingling upon the neck of his aura, or as close a sensation as he could ever convey to a non-mage or even a non aurist.

Senses became feelings, feelings became sensed, none of it literally, and often in odd or unique ways to give a meaning often not at first apparent.

He'd set up his tent and eaten dinner, and had been taking a short nap as he rested and thought.

Lost in his own head and mind, he had been pressing away, trying to exclude the environment from his perception, to meditate and pull within himself. It was something he'd become increasingly capable at. Sounds seemed farther away, muffled and quieter, almost dulled. Smells were dimmed, and the touch of Cha on his hand and the bedding below him seemed to fade somewhat and grow lesser.

He could still sense it all, was still aware of all of these senses and sensations, but in a somewhat more detached way and less connected way to his senses than when he'd been less skilled.

However his concentration was broken from his meditation as the clear hum of djed on the air thrummed across him, of someone doing magic. For him to notice it while trying to block out everything it was either very strong, or very close to him. Either way it meant he needed to take a measure of things, and pay attention to what was going on.

Breaking from his revery Clyde sat up, slowly exiting the tent using Cha to regain his feet as one might a normal mundane staff.

He came in at the ending of her words, missing some of the earlier bit. The later bit took him a moment to fully process, as he finished pulling himself fully out of his mind and into the world about him.

“As we both know my tents a bit small for anyone to join anyone, but we can sit together outside of it.”

Pointing at a somewhat clear spot with a downed log Clyde had dragged into place as a seat, Clyde motioned towards the impromptu chair.

“Or if you'd like we could go for a walk, and talk in private.”

Whichever Sayana chose, to stay and sit on the log, or to go for a walk out of the camp, Clyde would join her and go along. If they left the camp Clyde would take Rye with him.

Either way his next words would be “So, what did you think of the book? And what were you wondering about the cities past Nyka? I think I've been to most of them, I could perhaps give a simple appraisal of them if nothing else.”

[Sayana]

“Let us walk,” Sayana decided with a nod. “Leth is bright tonight and there are not too many clouds in the sky.” Syna, on the other hand was below the horizon and twilight was setting in. The Eypharian bent to gather a small bowl and scooped up a few hot coals from the remains of the fire. It was not enough to provide adequate light, but if need be she could create a small flame by adding some twigs.

With the warm bowl in her low hands, the Eypharian led the way through the forest. After only a few paces it became dark. Very dark. And it took her a few moments for her eyes to adjust. As she forged ahead to create a path, she snapped away dead branches that barred the way. Quite frequently she nicked the soft bark of young trees with her dagger so that it would leave a trail if they managed to get lost.

“The book. It was… it was good.” Sayana replied although a little bit lost for words. However, more with a sense of puzzlement at the descriptor she chose, rather than in awe of the writing. “I mean, it explained a lot. The different things you can do with it, different techniques, just how expansive it can be…”

She got the impression that he was hoping for a more thorough critique. As she ducked under thick evergreen branches and led the way around large mossy rocks and thick tree trunks, she elaborated further, no longer as cautious about being overheard. “It was very detailed and the elements and methods make more sense now. And how you conserve your djed. Although you didn’t write anything about an initiation. Even though you said it was… forceful.”

The Eypharian momentarily furrowed her eyebrows in the dim light, then perked up again. “If I may, I’d like to hold onto the book for the rest of the season or so. I’d like to have it memorized before I give it back to you. Do you have one for auristics?”

She would let him speak as she continued through the thick undergrowth, but soon it would begin to clear and a meadow with tall grass and bulrushes would open up. Cattails, reeds, and grasses up to her shoulder filled the space where the trees did not grow. Dark shadows were cast with Leth high in the sky and clouds drifting over the starry sky. A chorus of bullfrogs could be heard and if they weren’t careful, the squelch of mud might catch an unwary boot.

“Aha! I knew we had camped nearby some fresh water of sorts. This should be far enough away.” Sayana exclaimed and took a seat on a mossy log. The dampness soaked into her pants but her attention was on the beautiful moonlight that freely fell upon the tall grasses of the clearing. In comparison, her little embers in the bowl were nothing as a light source, but it kept her hands warm and gave her a sense of security.

Turning to face the mage, she spoke rather directly and with both a longing and eagerness to her voice. “Clyde, I want to know more about Ravok, and Rhysol. Is Ravok your home? You spoke of it like it was. You spoke of its beauty and strength. Is it run by people who are powerful and strong like you? Is there the freedom to truly prosper and thrive? Rather than be held back by petty ideals and honor bound promises?”

“Tell me what it is like. And what your god is like. Does he bring chaos with his every whim, like Ionu does to Alvadas? Or is he more subtle, like you? Have you… have you ever met him?” Her last question was more hesitant, as if it were hard to believe that gods could possibly be of the physical realm to be ‘met’. Even though there was evidence all around that the gods and goddesses existed, Sayana had never felt any personal connection to any of them and there was sort of a detached way in which she thought of the deities.

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde walked along with Sayana, Rye at their heels and Cha in his hand.

As they got further away from the campsite and the other people Sayana began speaking, he assumed as she felt they were away from prying eyes and ears.

He shrugged at her critique, before responding.

“It does what it was meant to, says what I intended. It says quite clearly it isn't about practical use, but theory. No hand waving or specific techniques. That's not the point of it. You can learn that on your own once you've been initiated.”

“I didn't write about initiation, because there would be no point. You can't learn Reimancy from a book. You must be initiated by another user. Its one of several magics I know of like that, that require initiation by a user. I wrote the book to cover a specific topic, and that was what was covered. Not everything under the sun that could be written about Reimancy.”

When she requested to hold onto the book, Clyde shrugged once more.

“Sure, its only a copy, and I have several more. Feel free to keep it for awhile. And no, I don't have one on Auristics. I wrote that one on Reimancy myself, writing isn't such an easy thing as some might think. I wrote it for a specific purpose, to explain a specific thing. I don't see a need to do likewise with Auristics. Besides, a book isn't a replacement for a good teacher.”

AAs they went into somewhat swampier weather and he saw the cattails and other things, his mind went back to a time long ago near Ravok when he'd been experimenting with Reimancy. That had been when he'd invented or figured out his water cutting technique, getting water at such high pressure that when releasing it at speed in a concise spray it could cut through things like a blade almost.

Clyde stood behind Sayana as she sat on a wet log, looking out across the plant life and water.

“If any place is my home, I think Ravok would be the closest place to it. I have houses, but houses don't make a home, they are just a place to rest your head. I do enjoy being there, but it is not a place of rest, not a place to be complacent. The followers of Rhysol do not allow weakness among their ranks.”

“It is a beautiful place, one led by the followers of Rhysol. In some ways it is freer than anywhere else, in other ways less free. Mainly for non-citizens. It is a place of seeming contradictions in many ways. Ravok is a safe haven, a beautiful calm oasis in the chaotic world we live in. If you can become a citizen, you will be able to appreciate its safety. Less so if you can't.”

“Rhysol... Rhysol is a god, no more, no less, and not so easily understood. He can be subtle, or not, upon what others might see of as his whim, upon what I see of as his design. I don't think he does things at random or chance in the way many people thing, at least not in the way they think. ”

Clyde paused for a moment at her last question, taking a moment to meet her eyes.

“Yes, I have met Rhysol. He decided to test me. I survived his test, something not everyone can say. I proved my mettle, didn't give in, and so I lived. Everyone's test is different. No too people face the same trials. I suppose you could say me test was... My test was to be tortured, in an attempt to make me betray him. I didn't, and I passed. I still bear some of the marks from that test as a reminder. Others face less physical tests, or more physical, or entirely different things.”

Clyde recalled that day for a moment, being tortured what had seemed like days at the time, but had likely been bells. All manner of pain, injury, and damage had been done to him. He'd even been stabbed in the chest, near his ribs. In the end all of it had been healed naturally, except for the stab wound. That had been healed by Rhysol, a drop of his blood healing the wound in its own unique way, and leaving a permanent mark upon him as a Chaon.

“Rhysol isn't an easy god to follow. He doesn't tolerate weakness or failure, as some gods do. But at the same time he helps bring out the strength that is needed from those who are worthy.”

[Sayana]

The mage had this peculiarity about him. He would open up a line of conversation and then almost immediately shut it closed. And yet he would still maintain the guise of a teacher. Firm and conclusive with every word.

Good thing she wasn’t so riveted in either reimancy or auristics to pry further. Or at least not at the moment.

Her attention returned to him as he discussed Ravok. There was caution about being too complacent and she frowned at his mention of non-citizens. Her eyes shone as he spoke of Rhysol. She had this ideal image of the dark god of chaos. A god who could accept all aspects of a person and inspire deception and ambition.

When the mage answered that he had indeed met the god, Sayana fought to keep her face calm while her heart pounded in her chest. A god? Truly meeting a god? There was a mix of admiration, respect, and fear along with a general sense of awe. She didn’t say a word while he spoke, but it was clear that she hung on his every word.

Tortured. It was a steep price, but one that could be endured with enough will power and determination. No. He was not an easy god to follow. Ravok may not even be an easy place to live. But did she seek an easy life? The answer there was obvious.

“Rhysol picks his chosen ones well,” she replied simply, paying a compliment to both the mage and his god. “He is not a god of fun and games, but truly tests the devotion of those who follow him. One day I would like to meet him. For better or for worse.”

The Eypharian reached down to pick up a small thin stick. With the bowl of glowing red coals in her low hands, she prodded it with the stick until a small flame lit up. “Was fire your first?” She asked as she held the burning stick, watching the fire dance upon it. It was merely a guess but it seemed symbolic and the mage had also written it first in his list of elements.

“Fire is like passion. If you get a good enough spark it will blaze quickly and fiercely. But if you can’t get the coals to burn, it will wither and fade.” She looked up at the mage then broke the remains of the stick into her small fire.

“You do not love easily like other men do. Is it from lack of trust, or lack of experience? Or the wrong kind of experience?” She gestured for him to sit with her, though it was much more of an invitation than a demand. Her gaze roamed over him regardless. He was quiet, tall, powerful… but had he ever remotely met his match in female companionship?

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde let out a sigh as he stared out at the cattails and plants before them, lost for a moment in memory.

Memories of fire, and flame, and death, and burning. Pain, and ending, and beginnings.

“Yes... Fire was my first. I have felt fire, lived fire, been fire. I suppose in a manner of speaking at least. Fire is my oldest companion, the first I met.”

Stopping for a moment, Clyde paused and met the woman's eyes, meeting her gaze.

“Have you ever been so connected to something, so united in purpose, that the distinction between you and them is lost and you simply become we? I have. Sometimes... Sometimes when I am deep within my magic, my Reimancy, it happens, and I lose the distinction between this body and the elements I control. It only ends when the other me dies, bit by bit, leaving only this me behind.”

While he looked at Sayana, he didn't seem to be seeing her, more like he looked through her with his eyes losing their sight before making it to her.

“Then they die, and leave you, and you are alone and so... Constrained... So... Simple. So limited.”

“No, perhaps I don't love as easily as others. I think it is from all of those things you said, and none. I have loved. I have grown attached. To both things, and people, and even my magic. And in turn and at times I have lost them all. One by one. Some I got back, like my magic. Clearly that came back... But not all of the things that left me. Some stayed gone.”

“Even the last one left and didn't return, and she was a petching dead woman haunting me... She helped me make the copies of my books. I wonder if the one you have, is the one she tried to copy for me...”

Pausing for a moment, Clyde pulled in a deep breath, exhaling his emotions and focusing his mind, focusing on the image of a flame burning in darkness without making light, this time without a candle.

His momentary lapse into emotion, memories, and his past abruptly ended, as he tried to calm himself and push away all such things.

His face visibly calmed, exhaling it all out with his breath, each breath out exhaling more until he was once more calm.

“Ghost hands aren't good for writing down books.”

[Sayana]

“I suppose they aren’t,” Sayana replied with a twitch of a smile. She had listened as he revealed snippets of his inner thoughts to her. A sense of one-ness yet also things that had been taken from him. Not all to return. And for every bit he revealed, he soon covered his face with a mask once more.

“You protect yourself.” She commented. “Your sorrows are painful but contained. I probably do the same. But in my own way.” She glanced out at the darkened landscape then steered the conversation back to a happier note. “I would like to someday be connected to someone, so closely that we are united and intimately bound together. You said you’ve reached that with your magic but it didn’t sound like you ever reached that with a person. I once thought I knew what marriage was, but since then it has had me riddled with doubt.”

“The dead… are not meant for the living. Even if they struggle to stay within this world. Maybe you don’t need the same warmth in your bed as I do. Maybe you’re beyond such trivial intimacies.”

Her gaze turned to the mage. What was she doing, flirting with danger? Yet there was a deeper sense of longing, to fill a gap. Someone to turn to, someone to conquer the world with, someone to share the deepest of physical pleasure.

The Eypharian got to her feet but instead of going towards Clyde, she stood at the edge of the marshy clearing looking out into the night. Stars twinkled faintly in the dark sky and clouds cast ominous shadows over the moon. She picked a nearby cattail and began plucking at its furry tip. Fluff, like cotton, was plucked from the plant and it burst into small flames as she set it upon her hot coals.

With a sudden contrast to her reflective mood, she glanced mischievously at the mage. “You know, if it wasn’t for your grand oath and all your magic I would have petched you by now.” It was crude and rather blunt, but sometimes such things needed to be said. Her body shifted to that of a more playful stance. Alert, poised, and ready for his rebuttal.

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde sighed, something over the years that had become an increasingly common habit. Sighing, shaking his head, stroking his hand against Cha, all common mannerisms and gestures that he made within his daily life.

Her words however cut through the haze of meditation he cloaked himself within, jarring memories from the past. The last time he'd been with someone.... It was just shy of two years ago, to say that it had been awhile was putting it mildly. If he wasn't as skilled in mediation as he was, he thought to himself, he'd likely have jumped atop some woman by now carried by his inflamed emotions and need.

Turning to Sayana, Clyde reached out with his aura sight, twinning his mundane vision of her face with a more magical inspection through his aura sense. Upon a thought the tendril of sight extended outward, latching onto and cloaking the hypnotist within a weave of his awareness.

Within his aura sight he could see her in her totalness, as if from seen from every angle at once and yet at the same time only one. It meant his mundane eyes were able to lock onto hers, not needing to awkwardly wander about and reveal his stare.

He could feel the soft touch of the skin on her arms, see her eyes and face and lips... All from a distance, his eyes locked onto hers.

“I may be a mage, but I am still a human, still a man, Say...”

At her words on him, of what she would have done had not events gotten in the way, he felt his calm crumble, felt his cheeks slightly redden, his mundane eyes struggling to keep focused on hers. It hadn't really occurred to him before that she might be genuinely interested in him. A part of him still didn't believe it, but other parts did.

As his calm crumbled, other aspects of him did the opposite, reacting in part to the sensations he unconsciously felt within his aura sight... A poor time to choose to feel the touch of her lips, the silkiness of her hair, the...

From a straightforward male point of view, Clyde tried to think logically and calmly to himself, she was an appealing woman. Pleasant in form, willing... They also had much in common, in temperate and thoughts if not in skill.

However the more base, instinctual, and heated parts of his brain were what attempted to wrest control of him, overriding his calmer more withdrawn self.

The wild primitive part of him that wanted to simply throw her on the ground, and do as he would.

His voice not as calm as before, though not totally broken, Clyde shifted his gaze, looking outward, and then down at Cha held in his hand.

“Magic... Magic in my experience, tends to complicate things...”

“I am not an easy person to be with, to care for. I am not a calm man naturally. Once that calm man leaves, breaks, there is no going back. No returning to things as they were before.”

“Passion and emotions, like magic, tend to complicate things.”

While her words had been said jokingly, with a smile, Clyde spoke quite seriously. More akin to as if he was discussing something as serious as having to kill a member of their caravan, rather than matters of a more personal nature.

[Sayana]

“Still a man. Still a human.” Sayana repeated softly under her breath. Still a human. And yet, even as he quietly gazed at her, she found herself locked on his deep blue eyes. So unlike her own. Even in the dark, it seemed as though there were some moments which he just gazed at her, and others in which he was struggling with himself.

Where she was playful, he was serious. Though for the moment she didn’t mind. “Clyde. Passion, emotions and magic would complicate anything. Be glad that I’ve promised not to hypnotize you into experiencing richer emotions. And that you’re not trying to hypnotize me back.” She faced the mage more fully and looked up at him as she placed her high hands around the back of his neck.

“Is it that you’re afraid of breaking me or hurting me? I am not some innocent damsel of Syliras. I don’t seek out boring men. Only if I’m toying with them in a single night of lust.” She paused with a mysterious glance out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t think I’m toying with you, do you?” She left it hanging for but a moment, then broke away from her half embrace.

The Eypharian’s advances seemed to mimic the ebb and flow of a stream. Sometimes drawing near and other times receding from the tall mage. “Whether you’re easy to be with and care for, or whether you’re not, I won’t truly know without being with you. Take all the precautions in the world, but you’ll never truly know until you take the plunge.”

She took a step back and yet beckoned him with a hand. “Come here mage. Work your magic on me. Or else I might work a little something on you. Just don’t burn down the forest.” Her play on words was obvious by her tone and if he needed a clear invitation, here it was. To feel his body, the touch of his lips, his strength and power. Should he come, she would be receptive. But if he were to join her but hesitate in his actions, she would take matters into her own hands.

Credit: Shimoje

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde watched the hypnotist as she gazed into his eyes, placing a few of her arms about his neck and letting the two of them come in closely.

He could feel the haze coming over himself, the heat rising from within after being cloaked under a layer of cold and ice...

He could feel the touch of her skin, the contact of flesh as her hands touched his neck, while also feeling her through her aura. He could feel and see the shifting of muscle and limb as the arms moved and bent and shifted. A small side part of his mind appreciated the complexity of the motion, the makeup and build and design of the limbs so like his own but for their numbers.

Attempting to copy it was beyond his current abilities with morphing, but that didn't mean he could come to appreciate and understand the underlying anatomy.

As the heat overcame him, the desire, the need, he reached for her, as she offered herself with a simple gesture.

While the Eypharian was rhythmic, like a tide coming in and out, Clyde was not so well practiced or refined in his attempts or techniques. Perhaps he made up for this with energy and focus, but he wasn't as skilled in the art of seduction and wooing as she.

Taking a firm step forward bringing her within reach, Clyde half spoke and half growled at her a simple response.

“I make no promises.”

All sense of hesitation or holding back in his actions was almost instantly gone, in its place pure need and ardor and primitive dominance.

As he had said he had broken, and now there was no stopping, no going back until what had been loosed was let to run.

Swooping with force forward Clyde grabbed her at the waist with both hands, the staff still in his right hand banging against her side lightly, though not with the force that a purposeful strike or attack would have.

Using his hands he would pull her forward, while he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, a forceful pressing of the lips though not painfully so. But it certainly wasn't soft or halfhearted.

His need to bend to reach her face brought to attention the difference in their heights.

As he pressed against her his own aura bloomed into sight unconsciously willed, his aura overlapping and pressing against the domain of Sayana's aura. From their close contact the sensations of her aura seemed to almost reverberate down his limbs out from her, though the focal point of this drawing of information was still Cha. All of this was twinned with his own bodies more mundane sensing.

After a chime or so of this he would shove at her, pressing and pushing, indicating with his hands and motions that he wanted her down, trying to press her down onto the ground, but not using words.