The Master: "Your return was not an easy thing, I know. How did you find yourself handling yourself?"
The Student: "There were good days, and bad days. Some days were very bad."
The Master: "Tell me of your first day."
The Student: "It was very bad."
The Master: "I cannot help you if you insist on being cryptic, Acolyte."
The Student: "I felt like a toddler dressed in sky blue. Out there I had been important, depended on, needed. Here I was just another maybe. Weak and pitiful and inept. It was hard to stomach."
The Master: "Did you handle it well? Were you able to restrain your anger and irritation, to subdue your frustration?"
The Student: "No."
The Master: "So you failed."
The Student: "Of course."
The 71st Day of Winter, 511 AV
Three crude iron daggers and their even less impressive scabbards were piled in her hands. They were junk, castaways from the armory that were no longer fit for service even as simple tools rather than weapons, yet they would serve her well enough here. Elhaym's thick hair swept across her face as she studied the three straw targets placed in front of her and to either side. She wore her simple Acolyte's garb, a mixture of blues and whites that would have been the perfect camouflage were she hiding in the sky. Yet in the sky she was not, rather in the well trod training grounds of the Shinyama Pavilion. It was a small circular grounds, dirt and dead leaves swirling about her feet as an icy wind slapped at her face and battered her clothing.
The targets were freestanding wooden and straw contraptions that made a silhouette of half a man, a thin beam buried in the earth replacing any attempt at legs. She worked a sheathed dagger into the straw of the first as if it were held in a belt, and did the same for the other two targets. Elhaym nodded to her faux attackers, satisfied with their weapons. She went back to her position in the middle of the three, steeling herself for the task she had set herself. She was apprehensive, but her astral body yearned to test it's limits. She shuddered as her astral soul shed it's skin, pulling itself from her fingers, hands, wrists, and finally left both of her arms limp at her sides. She clenched her fists and felt them grow taut, yet there was nothing for her eyes to see. They were there and not there, the wonder of projection.
A simple test really, or so she thought. She'd done it once before to great effect, and it had saved her life. She intended to draw the daggers from their sheaths, and plant them inside the dummies bellies in quick succession. Without hesitation, she lurched her astral arms to the side and wrapped a ghostly hand against the grainy leather of one dagger's hilt. She wrenched it free easily enough, but the blade wobbled visibly as she awkwardly maneuvered it from the sheath. She had not moved, so her astral arms were bent awkwardly to the side as she managed to slide the rusty blade into the torso of the straw man. With one hand still grasp around the hilt, she maneuvered the other to the small pommel of the dagger, and in unison gave the dagger a fatal twist.
The target wept straw, and a mortal blow had been delivered. Elhaym exhaled heavily for her effort. Her arms slid back to her sides while the odd yet familiar sensation of their movement cascaded her senses. She was aware of them as much as any arm, but the strange things she could do with them went against everything her body told her the appendages should be capable of. She cocked her head to the side, now thrusting her arms forth for the same purpose to the dummy on her other side.
After a few seconds of intense concentration, the dummy on either side of her both stood with a dagger planted firmly in their bellies. Elhaym's brow was slick with sweat and her jaw was clenched tight. Even now she could see the beginnings of hazy blue outlines snaking around her body. She had gotten more comfortable with performing more useful tasks with Projection, but her stamina was still pathetic. A third target remained, and her arms wavered as they made their approach.
She fumbled with the dagger, this time having to press one hand to the sheath to steady it as her other pulled the blade free drunkenly. The air shimmered blue and silver as her arms worked feverishly to puncture the straw solidly, but even that proved too much. She retracted her arms with the dagger hanging halfway from the straw, perilously close to pulling itself free and falling to the earth. Elhaym gritted her teeth together in irritation as her projection slithered up her arms and settled on top of her skin. Failure stung more than anything.
The Student: "There were good days, and bad days. Some days were very bad."
The Master: "Tell me of your first day."
The Student: "It was very bad."
The Master: "I cannot help you if you insist on being cryptic, Acolyte."
The Student: "I felt like a toddler dressed in sky blue. Out there I had been important, depended on, needed. Here I was just another maybe. Weak and pitiful and inept. It was hard to stomach."
The Master: "Did you handle it well? Were you able to restrain your anger and irritation, to subdue your frustration?"
The Student: "No."
The Master: "So you failed."
The Student: "Of course."
-----
The 71st Day of Winter, 511 AV
Three crude iron daggers and their even less impressive scabbards were piled in her hands. They were junk, castaways from the armory that were no longer fit for service even as simple tools rather than weapons, yet they would serve her well enough here. Elhaym's thick hair swept across her face as she studied the three straw targets placed in front of her and to either side. She wore her simple Acolyte's garb, a mixture of blues and whites that would have been the perfect camouflage were she hiding in the sky. Yet in the sky she was not, rather in the well trod training grounds of the Shinyama Pavilion. It was a small circular grounds, dirt and dead leaves swirling about her feet as an icy wind slapped at her face and battered her clothing.
The targets were freestanding wooden and straw contraptions that made a silhouette of half a man, a thin beam buried in the earth replacing any attempt at legs. She worked a sheathed dagger into the straw of the first as if it were held in a belt, and did the same for the other two targets. Elhaym nodded to her faux attackers, satisfied with their weapons. She went back to her position in the middle of the three, steeling herself for the task she had set herself. She was apprehensive, but her astral body yearned to test it's limits. She shuddered as her astral soul shed it's skin, pulling itself from her fingers, hands, wrists, and finally left both of her arms limp at her sides. She clenched her fists and felt them grow taut, yet there was nothing for her eyes to see. They were there and not there, the wonder of projection.
A simple test really, or so she thought. She'd done it once before to great effect, and it had saved her life. She intended to draw the daggers from their sheaths, and plant them inside the dummies bellies in quick succession. Without hesitation, she lurched her astral arms to the side and wrapped a ghostly hand against the grainy leather of one dagger's hilt. She wrenched it free easily enough, but the blade wobbled visibly as she awkwardly maneuvered it from the sheath. She had not moved, so her astral arms were bent awkwardly to the side as she managed to slide the rusty blade into the torso of the straw man. With one hand still grasp around the hilt, she maneuvered the other to the small pommel of the dagger, and in unison gave the dagger a fatal twist.
The target wept straw, and a mortal blow had been delivered. Elhaym exhaled heavily for her effort. Her arms slid back to her sides while the odd yet familiar sensation of their movement cascaded her senses. She was aware of them as much as any arm, but the strange things she could do with them went against everything her body told her the appendages should be capable of. She cocked her head to the side, now thrusting her arms forth for the same purpose to the dummy on her other side.
After a few seconds of intense concentration, the dummy on either side of her both stood with a dagger planted firmly in their bellies. Elhaym's brow was slick with sweat and her jaw was clenched tight. Even now she could see the beginnings of hazy blue outlines snaking around her body. She had gotten more comfortable with performing more useful tasks with Projection, but her stamina was still pathetic. A third target remained, and her arms wavered as they made their approach.
She fumbled with the dagger, this time having to press one hand to the sheath to steady it as her other pulled the blade free drunkenly. The air shimmered blue and silver as her arms worked feverishly to puncture the straw solidly, but even that proved too much. She retracted her arms with the dagger hanging halfway from the straw, perilously close to pulling itself free and falling to the earth. Elhaym gritted her teeth together in irritation as her projection slithered up her arms and settled on top of her skin. Failure stung more than anything.