[Solo] Backdraft

[Leo Varniak]

12th day of Winter, 509 AV

"Fire. What is fire?

No matter how you look at it, fire is different from anything else in the world. Fire does not even fit in nicely among the other three canonical elements. They are permanent in a way fire isn't. Earth is always going to be there. Water may transform, but it never stops being. Air is invisible, but the wind, indeed our own breath, are evidence that it exists. Fire is unlike all of them.

Where does fire come from? Where does it go once extinguished?

Fire a mystery. Perhaps that is what I find most attractive about it. You can't touch fire, but fire can touch you. Fire just happens under the right conditions and just as quickly disappears. It does its job and rides off into the sunset. I always wanted to be like that, too."

Leo Varniak stood barefooted in the snow. The thin carpet was melting under him from his abnormal bodily heat. He joined his hands, deep in thought, the outskirts of the Cobalt Mountains unfolding before him.

"What is fire? What am I? Fire is transformation. Fire is simplification. Breaking complex things into simple. Analysis. Separation. Judgment. I."

Leo held his hand out and opened his Res pores to emit a little of the primal essence from his palm. He ignited it and stared at the diminutive flame for a while. It struggled to keep going in the snowy weather, but it wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

"Am I truly a human being? Or more along the lines of a force born for a specific reason, and destined to be extinguished like a fire once I have fulfilled my purpose? Our lives are fickle things, it takes nothing to crush them."

He clenched his hand into a fist, crushing the tiny flame with it.

"But fire doesn't give a damn that it's going to die. Fire accepts its own fleeting nature. Fire understands that it's not going to last forever. Fire knows that new life will sprout from under the ashes. Fire is a warrior philosopher. So am I."

His eyes shot open, and a bright flame flared all the way from his palm to well over his head. It only lasted an instant, but Leo enjoyed the sight. The difference between a good wizard and a great wizard was that the good wizard knew his field intimately, but the great wizard became one with it. Leo didn't have such lofty ambitions as being remembered as an epic Reimancer, honestly. He just had to grow into one if he wanted to stand a chance.

"And to see Mother again…" he murmured, and prepared for the next exercise.

[Leo Varniak]

Leo Varniak plunged his hands into the layer of snow and began pouring his Res out as raw fiery energy - slowly, methodically. This was the magical equivalent of endurance training, not strength. That would come later, and then he would practice finesse. For now, he just focused on melting as much snow as he could before feeling exhausted.

"What are you, Ivak? A keeper or a destroyer? Just as I start leaning either way, you manage to confuse me. You can do that without even speaking to me. It's as if all I can see is the shadow play you cast through smoked glass. Your shadow twists and turns like coils of smoke - a friendly hand is the next moment's uncanny beast. There is but one truth, though. Only one. And it is for me to find out, should it cost my life."

Thin spirals of smoke rose from the snow. Leo grinned, showing his sharp white teeth. Burn, world, burn. He could feel the drain already, as if his life juice were flowing down his arms, leaving his body numb and meaningless as he poured his veins out on the white blanket of the Cobalt Mountains. Leo Varniak was not overly worried about overgiving, truth be told. He had come to accept, after confronting Rhysol in the vision, that his odds of making it to a respectable old age were scarce at best. He had remarkably little to lose on top of that.

"How many are left on the scarred face of this world? How many still writhing in the misery of Rhysol's evil? Hundreds? Thousands? More? Just knowing I share the same land with such abominations makes my blood boil, almost in the literal meaning of the word. Ever since I was a child, I could never let go of anything. I'd just take everything inside me, quietly, and never forget any of it. The faults of men never fade. Time is just an excuse we make to ourselves. Our sins are written in the ink of eternity."

Sweat streaked down his face as Leo found himself approaching the point of exhaustion. Around him, the snow in a two-foot radius had turned into a pool of steaming water.

[Leo Varniak]

Of course, the exhaustion was exactly what Leo Varniak had come for. Here, lightly clad in the midst of a mounting snowfall, he was free to push his limit. No knights getting in the way. No worries about collateral damage. Himself, a hostile world, and impossible odds ahead of him - just the way he liked it best. No greatness had ever been borne of prosperity. It was always in times of strife and scarcity that the greatest deeds were done.

"I am but a dot in the timeless cosmos, a pale star in the winter sky. Yet what is a sun if not an orb of burning starfire large enough to warm our entire world? And so, perspective matters. My life that is but a dot can shape the future of everything. Countless possibilities. Only one outcome. Has is been already pre-determined? Am I but playing a script for an audience to clap their bored hands to? Does Tanroa know? Does Lhex know? Does someone know?"

He concentrated Res between his hands, mentally picturing his very pores expanding to let it pour out of his palms. He made light 'tch tch' sounds by clicking his tongue against his palate as it always aided his concentration. Suddenly, he ignited the outer layers of his firebolt and threw it in front of him, then letting it burn at full capacity. Like the star that burns brightest, it also burned fastest. The wet snowfall doused the projectile in water after a few moments, and the projectile was extinguished a few meters away from Leo. Common wisdom had it that fire and bad weather did not mix well, after all. Of course, Leo was here to change that.

"That bolt of fire, was me. It came from me, it was me. Water killed it, killed me. Lost in the reunion of opposites - warm and cold, dry and wet. The synthesis is zero. No point in achieving balance in life; balance is zero. No game is ever won with a draw - pick an extreme and hope it's the right one. I believe mine is the right one. Keep the opposites from touching. Keep them both alive, but separate. Introduce a third party."

Leo's sweat was already frozen on his brow. He knew what to do, though it would take practice. It irked him, that what he considered difficult magical science had probably been a freshman's first semester homework before the Valterrian. So much lost - so much never to be found again. If Leo hadn't been with Ivak, he'd probably have been with Eyris, for he respected knowledge tremendously and its goddess along with it. Even though she was all about balance.

The tch tch noises picked up again, and he formed another small ball of translucent green Res hovering between his hands. This time, however, the makeup was different as he spun his plan into action.

Air outside, fire inside.

A thin swirling veneer of air surrounding a ball of flame - keeping the opposites from meeting. As the two-layered firebolt flew, the air kept the atmospheric moisture from reaching the fire. Leo watched with satisfaction as the bolt smashed into a pile of snow, causing some of it to crumble in a cloud of steam. It hadn't been perfect, but the proof of concept was there, as was a throbbing headache making his ears ring with unpleasant echoes.

[Leo Varniak]

He staggered, feet planted unsteadily on the carpet of snow, the wind hissing past his ears. He felt feverish, as if every part of him was flaring like a miniature sun. Yet he'd never been more adamantine in his desire to go on. Melting snow was an energy-consuming task, for water required a lot of heat to change states. That was why he had chosen this training regimen over any other. He didn't have the luxury of taking it easy or learning things over years and decades. The enemy wouldn't sit down on the side and wait for him to be ready.

"What is life? Why is it that I am Leo Varniak? I could have been anyone else. What was the rationale? Why this choice? Was it arbitrary? Was it planned? Was it random? Does my identity shape my personality, as well? Am I acting like Leo Varniak because he is just built that way? What is Leo Varniak? As I cast magic, a part of me is lost. As I eat, a part of me is added. I change every day, every bell, every chime. Only the name ever stays the same."

Control. He needed to gain more control and accuracy - not with fire, of course, for that was quite a hopeless battle, but with air. He had always considered air to be an inferior element, yet the only one he'd ever managed to conjure except fire. He could see now that this wasn't the case. Air was the ideal support for the flames, and it could be directed in ways fire never could. He needed to get better at it - air had a totally different feel than fire, and his experience far more limited.

Catch the snowflakes. He formed tiny pellets of air and shot them at specific snowflakes, trying to break them. The targets were small and moved almost randomly in their descent - the perfect training. Air whistled against air in the almost hopeless task of hitting flakes amidst the raging blizzard. So many variables… a fitting metaphor of life.

"Here I am, targeting unique snowflakes for elimination. Isn't that what I have always been doing? Judge carefully. Pick the biggest ones. Sense the lulling in the wind. Follow them with your eyes first, then with your mind. Spread the air bullets. Have no mercy." More tiny projectiles of compressed air shot out from Leo's hands, each one missing - until one finally found its mark. Three more followed suit. Leo Varniak grinned and tasted the warm blood flowing down his nostrils.

[Leo Varniak]

"One more round, one more round," Leo said abruptly, speaking for the first time. He could do more, but he needed to know just how much more. He needed to test a theory about something he had experienced years before, during the fire that had burned down the Varniak residence. Leo had watched it all, until there'd been nothing left but rubble and ashes. He could remember every second with his acute visual memory - it was all etched in his mind. He had started the fire in the first place, and the speed at which it had spread initially was incredibly. Before Leo even knew it, the flames were already reaching the bedrooms upstairs.

But then, the flames had begun to dwindle. Leo had been watching from a distance, convincing himself that the house wouldn't collapse after all. A skeleton would remain, perhaps something that could even be salvageable given a lot of time and good will. He stood up, still in shock over the terrible events that had taken place there, and began to walk cautiously towards the slowly-burning building. That was when a window suddenly broke. Leo heard it very clearly, the hissing of air being sucked in. He felt the sudden urge to stop. It had been the right choice.

Seconds later, fire literally flared out in an explosive release, shattering every glass in the house and knocking back Leo even at that distance. The younger Leo backpedalled in a frenzy, knowing the house was done for. Still, that burst of fire and its shockwave had been magnificient in way, and the building had not survived its impetus longer than a few minutes.

Leo had done his research. It was called 'backdraft'. When fire was deprived of fresh air, it tended to dwindle and look like it was about to die off. However, fire knew how to be deceptive. If new air was introduced into the system at this point, the flames would react with incredible strength. Explosive strength. Leo liked that part, even if it meant having to second-guess fire.

"The power to release. The power to destroy. Ivak's power. Necessary. Deadly. Easy to mix up the two. Too much medicine can kill you. What a meager Valterrian I have devised… but it can still do much cleansing."

Leo drew a long breath and headed towards a small tree distant enough from the rest to be used safely for training. As good a target as any. Leo approached the trunk and laid his hands upon it, his breathing heavy and rugged. He conjured a sizeable chunk of fire Res surrounded by a layer of air Res for protection from the storm. He stepped back and ignited the Res, setting a portion of the trunk on fire. Nice, but it would definitely not live long, not on a wet tree. Leo outstretched his hands and emitted the other variety of Res, the one that attracted, not created.

He sent it at the small fire, depriving it of air. The flames instantly diminished, replaced by some smoke. "Slow. Slow. Too fast and you'll just kill it." After a few seconds, he reversed the flow and poured as much air from the surroundings into the fire as he could. There was just a single flare, brilliant and beautiful and wild. The tree was on fire, though the snow would soon douse it. Leo grinned. Then he fell down, face first in the snow as blood trickled from his mouth.

[Leo Varniak]

This was bad. Personal magic in itself was exhausting and dangerous, but trying out new things was doubly so, mostly because experimentation implied a waste of much energy. Res dissipated before being put to good use, trickling out when one was preoccupied with getting the new effect to work; with practice, the shaping carved itself a pathway in the mind and eventually became second-nature to the user, but the first few times could be very taxing. Leo had experimented with no less than three new and difficult techniques in one day. No wonder he was lying motionless in the snow, trying to keep himself awake. If he passed out now and in the middle of a deserted tract of the woods, Ivak's mark or not, he would likely never wake up.

His body was not responding. Leo wondered if this was overgiving and what would happen to him now. Already he couldn't feel his lower ends or his fingers anymore. If his fire met an equal amount of ice, wouldn't they cancel eath other? He would disappear, then - the synthesis of opposites turning him into zero. He shook off the delirious notion, and forced his brain to stop identifying himself as solely fire. There was something unhealthy about magic, the way it twisted you until you switched from wielding magic to magic wielding you. Lesser minds were crushed. Greater minds were changed. None were left unaffected.

"I am not fire. I am Leo Varniak. And I am not dying here."

Slowly, he tried to pull himself up. Halfway through, his arms gave in and he slumped back down with a soft grunt. He needed to get up, keep his body heat from dispersing. Suddenly the temptation invaded every part of his being: why not use magic to save yourself? Fire to keep you warm. Air to insulate your body from the blizzard. You just have to give a little more, just a little bit more. Leo could feel his body preparing to generate more Res, almost on its own - and it was right there and then that he realized how mistaken he had been. Limits existed to be challenged, not to be laughed at.

"No!" he shouted. He instinctively knew, if he cast any more magic, he might move past the point of no return. There was no telling what would happen then - if he survived, he might become a different Leo Varniak as some sections of his mind were activated and others shut down for good. But there was so much left to do, so many duties to perform, he could not afford losing himself to magic. "No!" he bellowed once more, blocking any subconscious attempt at casting.

It felt like every muscle in his body was being pulled to the point of breaking, but Leo managed to get back on his feet, panting heavily. The tree was no longer burning, but his spell had left some impressive black scorch marks all over its bark. His vision was blurred, but he knew the way home. One step after another. He could do it, couldn't he? He had faced worse odds in the past. Leo would retain very few memories of what happened next, during his slow march towards the gates and then to the Zaital headquarters. All he would ever remember was the cold, the raging blizzard, and the feeling of his head about to burst at the seams. Eventually, though, he must have found his way, as he woke up in his bed, a full day after he crash-landed on it.

[Leo Varniak]

Even though he'd never experienced one, Leo supposed the feeling was akin to a bad hangover. There was a subtle suggestion of loss creeping throughout his body, reminding him of how much he'd given in return for the impossible made real. Every part of him ached, and he had a bad cold. Thankfully he'd managed to avoid anything more serious, as he'd have a hard time finding a healer in his current state.

He rolled around to lie on his back, where he could stare blankly at the ceiling. He had learned much about magic, not just the technique of it, but the nature of it. For a single, terrible moment he had heard the beast howl and felt it push him towards the edge of the abyss. This was unsettling knowledge he had gained, but precious, and Leo was thankful for it. Many believed ignorance to be bliss, and knowledge to be misery; if so, Leo would rather be miserable than ignorant.

"Why are you doing this? Does it make you happy? Does it give you a reason to go on? Does it make you feel like you were born for a purpose? Does it distract you from the emptiness at your core?"

He pulled himself up and tested his powers for any consequences by lighting a tiny flame on the back of his hand. Aside from a little soreness of his Res-pores which was to be expected, his functions seemed to have gone back to normal; indeed, he felt himself more attuned than before, the flow pouring out with greater ease and less conscious effort. He nodded and extinguished the flame.

"We are not born for a purpose," he reminded himself. "Just like we are not born with a name. A name is chosen. So is a purpose. In purpose, we gain our own identity. Our bodies and minds are transformed with each passing moment, but as long as our purpose holds, we know who we are. I have my answer now."

Leo Varniak smiled, already feeling better. If the weather got nicer later in the day, he would gladly go out - and burn something.

*** The end ***

[Gossamer]

. Character: Leo Varniak Experience: 5 XP Reimancy Lore: The True Nature Of Fire, The Strengths and Weaknesses of One's Own Self, Personal Limits/Boundaries on Res Production and Casting (Leo knows how far he can go somewhat) Additional Note: I always enjoy reading your threads. I always feel like I learn a great deal how a mage and his djed should interact. I really find that in this thread 'knowing thyself' was way more important than the reimancy. PS. I finally learned how to spell Reimancy. Where's my cookie? .