Sebastion Hyacinth Isabella Mordecai

[Sebastion]

Sebastion Hyacinth Isabella Mordecai Amasis (or if the reader prefers, Shim.) Shim enjoys names, and there are way too many beautiful wonderful names in the world for him to be called by just one. That being said there are also way too many names for him to keep naming himself infinitely, so to consolidate, Shim has decided that every year on his day of birth he is allowed to add another to his name. From the current denomination above, mayhaps the reader can garner why most decide to call him Shim. Wait so you’re saying, she’s a he? Shim’s Physicality Race: Pycon Birthday: 1st day of Winter, 508 A.V. Age: Four Years Gender: Male Height: 8” Weight: 10 lbs When Shim was young, say about eight months old, he really didn’t care too much for his appearance, for he was always a lover of fantastical adventures, and in not a one had he heard of a dashing male hero in heels. Despite this, as he grew older (let’s say when he was around ten months of age) Shim began to really discover his devotion to the God of Alchemy Harameus, and he took his opposites of gender and appearance to heart as a symbol from a god deemed male whose gender was really of no importance, that his deceiving appearance should not matter either. Shim has tried before to take on male appearances, roughening his features, shortening his hair, altering his clothing, but no matter how much practice he devotes to the task, he always finds it easier to transform into female forms than male, and as such has ceased trying altogether. Generally Shim appears as a maiden the color of brick red clay, a long thick braid trailing over his shoulder wearing riding gear and a short cloak. Sometimes the hood is up to conceal the woman’s face, but many times it is down around his shoulders. The figure comes complete with a riding crop that Shim never separates from his body and high boots. On some occasions Shim will let down his hair so to speak, and take the form of a dark skinned beauty with long flowing locks and immovable bangles with a backless dress and short heels. As of late Shim has taken great enjoyment in accessorizing his different feminine looks and utterly enjoys showing cleavage and posing in stores and pubs to gain the attention of males and females alike, shocking them with his, low resonating voice just as they become enraptured with his form. Oh, he’s one of those Taking a look at the Pycon Personality Shim like many Pycons, is a fun loving, curious individual, who is always looking to learn more and expand his knowledge of the world of Mizahar. That being said, he is bitter about his own race, who have shunned him for his Alchemical practices, creating a contrast of being both fiercely proud of his heritage and disappointed in what he sees as their ignorance and fearfulness in the exploration of their creation. This in turn has made a sort of emotional push and pull within the Pycon, who is completely devote to Harameus, and the craft he governs, but at the same time feels limited, scared and also vehemently opposed to delve into the blacker nature that alchemy can take on using live subjects. Shim constantly seeks out signs left by his maker, and works to perfect his skills, making a very energetic and determined little Pycon who will sometimes lapse into long thoughtful periods about his place in the grand scheme of Mizahar. Ethics Despite what Shim considers his honor bound duty to never attempt to create life in the way that spawned his race, his experiments are not always what one might call safe. Shim believes that while all Pycon are right to seek their ultimate form, by shirking the tools of alchemy as off limits, no Pycon will, nor as of yet has truly found their true form. Shim is a firm believer that the Pycon were meant for more than their short existence that invariably leads to them turning to stone, an extended product of the alchemy he studies. While he is not sure what that end is yet, the little Pycon is confident that by becoming a master alchemist and staying watchful for signs from his diety, that Harameus will eventually reveal the true purpose of the little clay people in due time, and he will be the one to usher his race into this new dawn. This modality of thought has led Shim to have a slightly inflated ego, as mages are often found to have, and he has a great amount of self-importance that reflects itself in little ways: One of which is that he refers to himself in the third person. Likes Shim enjoys animals a great deal, and finds a personal connection to them and their much shorter than human lifespans, and revels in the companionship of his riding dog Snowflake immensely. He enjoys company of any kind, however, and winning people’s affection, especially those who may be wary of him at first. The Pycon loves reading, even though his short stature prevents him from carrying many books around with him. Due to this he will read anything from pamphlets to newspapers to smutty novels and will often raid his companion’s belongings in search of literature to read no matter the content. The Pycon also enjoys flora of every kind a great deal, new plants especially, and often makes horrible tasting, yet medicinally beneficial teas which he cannot drink, and thus forces on others to try. Dislikes While Shim can understand the reasoning of his people to refuse to study alchemy, it upsets him that they cannot also understand why he is so eager to absorb its knowledge, and that is the Pycon’s greatest annoyance with other individuals as well, their inability to view both sides of an issue. Ignorance is understandable, no one can know everything, but refusal of more knowledge that may run counter intuitive to your own beliefs in order to expand your ideas on a certain ideal is borderline unforgiveable to Shim. Everyone has a past The history that made the clay man Shim was a bit past three months old, just becoming free of his parents care when he first discovered a tattered and ancient book in his parents things about alchemy. Most of the writing was incomprehensible, but it was the images that truly caught the young Pycon’s eyes. They were highly detailed inked pictographs of alchemical arrangements and symbology. It was here that Shim discovered the beauty that was the art that had created their race. Even though he didn’t immediately understand the purpose of the arrangements and what they meant, the worn book, Pycon sized even, spoke to him as nothing had in his short time in Mizahar. So began Shim’s experiments. There were probably several ancient alchemists rolling in their graves at the Pycon’s first clumsy and feeble attempts at alchemy. Without any writing or anyone’s guidance, knowing only that this art was forbidden by his people, it is a small miracle the little clay boy did not end himself with those first few experiments, something Shim later attested to the ever hidden but vigilant Harameus. For the first few times that Shim attempted an alchemical combination, nothing happened at all. Of course his doorway was made of badly carved wooden sticks and he knew nothing of the difference between founts and philters, how he laughs at his naivety now. After repeated failure, Shim took this message that reflected upon his inexperience to heart, and spent about a month with the book in secret, piecing together the remains of the writing in order to figure out what he was doing wrong. In this time he discovered more about the true purpose of alchemy, how it was about giving new properties to an object that it would not normally have, but that this method had to be approached cautiously, for many mistakes could be made if one did not first calculate all the possibilities of ones actions. His first successful alchemical concoction was a sad display to say the least, but a moment that still rings proudly in Shim’s memories. His doorway was a silver plate with the middle cut out of it, painstakingly carved with symbols replicating the ones he had seen in the book. He only had one fount and one philter, and in the center of the ring sat the greenest newest acorn he could find, tipped jauntily to one side. His fount was a chunk of rose quarts, his philter was a chunk of wood carved to be a rough copy of the shape of quartz in order to maintain the acorns shape in the process of the event. His keystones were two black pearl earrings he had taken from his mother’s baubles that she had collected in her adventuring days, and carved to provide the accurate directions. To begin he cut off the tip of his finger and let it drop into the ring, then pressed his hand against the keystone. He was in the clearing for three hours, focused upon his metal plate, part of him thinks it only worked out of sympathy, but once the Pycon had felt the Djed flowing through him into his ring, the steady increase of magical circulation until he could contain it no longer and he knew that this is what he wished to devote his life to. After cooling his acorn in a nearby stream, he dried it off with a towel and admired its rocky surface. It was a shoddy job to say the least, the crystals had only taken root in certain spots on the acorn, but Shim was content to see that upon smashing the object they permeated through to the center of the large seed, and though the next day the acorn looked old and worn, with not a trace of rock upon it, the Pycon was far from disappointed. So the little clay man worked to earn money to purchase real supplies. He used his philtering skills and knowledge of plant life to brew everything from beer to cold medicine, even making salves and soaps to peddle. In the meantime he worked to acquire more literature on alchemy and expand upon his skills. He was one year old when his parents discovered him in the middle of arranging an alchemical display, caught red handed, as it were. They were furious, and though they had no control over what their son did, they threatened to tell the Pyve if Shim didn’t leave immediately. He attempted to reason with his parents, but it was to no avail. Before he departed, however, his father gave him a cryptic letter with an address in Mura and a good chunk of money to get on his way. Shim used the coin and the eager charm most Pycon's are gifted with to hitch a ride from one caravan and and trader to the next, from their Pyve all the way to Mura, where he was amazed by the beautiful elegant Konti, and their aquatic garden city. This journey is how Shim discovered his estranged grandmother, a Pycon living in Mura, who had also been shunned from her Pyve for her practices with alchemy. She was a bitter thing, especially by Pycon standards (Something about her perpetually old looking form had turned her off to the Konti, and had only continued to fuel her bitterness), but the company of her grandson seemed to alleviate some of her manners as the bright young clay man endeavored to make her proud whenever he could. Two clay people might not be very noticeable in the great city of Mura, but they still paid their due. The alchemists, forsaken by their own, were welcomed in with open arms by the long lived aquatic women, and in return for potions, salves, teas, other alchemical creations, and respect of their laws as well as their dieties, the Pycons were free to continue their worship of Harameus as well as garnered a small and steady supply of clay to keep them fed. During this time Shim obtained his lifelong companion Snowflake, a jet black Zypherian Sled Dog, who he picked up from a passing trader who had trained it for riding. While Snowflake had never encountered Pycon's before, and found them quite odd, the two took to each other rapidly, and she can easily carry the Pycon's many supplies. While he learned a lot from his grandmother, the day came when she sat him down at her small table in her apartment, and told him she had nothing more to teach him. It was a sad day for Shim, but one that he knew would come, so he said his farewells, and now he and Snowflake are off in search of adventure, fun, and most importantly more knowledge, thus truly beginning the Pycon’s tale. So that all adds up to…? The Stats Acrobatics 1 XP Novice Alchemy 20 SP Novice Animal Husbandry 3 XP Novice Blowguns 8 5 SP + 3 XP Novice Escape Artist 10 RB Novice Herbalism 9 SP Novice Observation 8 XP Novice Persuasion 1 XP Novice Philosophy 1 XP Novice Philtering 10 SP Novice Rhetoric 1 XP Novice Riding (Dog) 11 | 6 SP + 5 XP Novice Singing 2 XP Novice Storytelling 5 XP Novice Languages: Fluent: Common Basic: Kontinese Lores: Lore of feminine clay forms SP Lore of Harameus SP Putting A Riding Dog's Needs First Desert Travel: The Burning Lands Are Hottest During Midday Seirysu Hei: Travelling Adventurer From Riverfall Seirysu Hei: Searching For His Family Seirysu Hei: A Dhani Mage Shooting A Blowgun While Riding A Dog Harameia: A Changing Gnosis Mark? Desert Travel: Beware of Bandits Rhyming Through Song Song Creation: "Canine and Pycon" Ahnatep Location: The Lady's Lap Sabaf: Eypharian Owner of the Lady's Lap Shuuda: The Day of Truth Shuuda: The Night of Legends Esha re Naphu: Twin of Singh, Daughter of Kasia and NePon Singh re Naphu: Twin of Esha, Daughter of Kasia and NePon Esha re Naphu: The Passionate Twin Singh re Naphu: The Taciturn Twin Eypharians Tend To See Pycons As Entertainment The Tale of Rhaskar and the Old Man Storytelling: Don't Rush The Ending Storytelling: Bring Characters To Life By Fleshing Them Out Gnosis: 1 Harameia which appears as a highly detailed alchemical circle upon the Pycon's left palm. Inventory Heirloom: Before Shim left his Grandmother's care, she presented him with a gift. Upon first coming to her home in Mura he had still kept the Silver plate for which his first alchemical practices had been created upon. She made him throw it out immediately after getting there, but she had not disposed of it. Instead she had melted it down and sent it away to crafters, and now Shim has his own portable alchemical ring. It is slightly larger than a plate and it has four rings for two founts and two philters that are all connected with D-wire coated in the silver of the plate and etched with runes. It also has two protruding holders for keystones, and while Shim will require larger doorways to work with, it is perfect for the road. Riding Dog (Zypherian Sled Dog)-150 GM Philtering Kit -150 GM Saddle pad -1GM Saddle Bags Small -4 GM Silver Holy Symbol (Harameus) -25 GM Blowgun -10 GM Glassware -5GM Blowgun Needles -1 GM (17/20) 1 Waterskin 1 Backpack which contains: 1 Toiletries Clay for a week 1 eating knife (A knife to eat clay, how silly, Shim thinks!) Flint & Steel 1 Room Key to Rented Room at The Lady's Lap 1 Lb of Clay 1 Bag of Dog Treats Starting Gold: 100 GM + 500 GM (housing cashed in) Fall 512 Living Expenses -45 GM Food and Water - 2 SM 1 Season's stay in The Lady's Lap - 77 GM Current Gold: 131GM, 8 SM

[Sebastion]

Thread List Fall 512 An Unprecedented Journey: Completed/ Graded SpoilsObservation 4 XP Riding: Dog 4 XP Weapon: Blowgun 3 XP Animal Husbandry 2 XP Philosophy 1 XP Persuasion 1 XP One Small Step: Active Winter 512 The Crowning of Leth: Active The Little Scholar That Could: Active Home is Where the Nexus is: Completed/Graded spoilsObservation 2 Singing 2 Acrobatics 1 Rhetoric 1 Animal Husbandry 1 Sharing in Lessons: Completed/Graded SpoilsStorytelling 5 Observation 2 Riding (Dog) 1

[Sebastion]

The Ripple of the World The Tale : “WHAT IN THE CREATOR’S NAME IS THIS?!” A grouchy old looking Pycon, her clay clearly dried around the edges, losing its malleability in her old age, screamed out of a small skylight up onto the patio. She could have been referring to many things. Perhaps it was the absolute mess the workshop was in, tins and crates were scattered about, plants and herbs sticking out of places they shouldn’t be occupying, mostly the ground and the ceiling. A possible problem could have been the temperature: all the windows had been covered with thick wool blankets, perhaps because the occupant was working with light sensitive materials, or perhaps they were only comfortable in sauna equivalent temperatures. Another issue may have been related to the distinct odor of burnt skunk dipped in caramel, an almost pleasant scent until it trickled into the back of your throat and you were faced with a feeling between a sneeze and your natural gag reflex that encouraged you to pelt the contents of your stomach onto the worn wooden floorboards. So maybe it was one of those particular things that was causing the old woman Pycon to turn red in the face shouting, or more likely, it was really all three of these things in combination that were the turning point for the cantankerous bat. It didn’t take her long to see that in the center of the room on a small table that was the only uncluttered, un-burnt space available, sat an iridescent orb on an oak pedestal. It wasn’t very round, more like the first workings of someone who knew the ideas behind glass and its cooling rate, but had never actually had to deal with it. It was rather pretty however, it shimmered and glowed in the darkness with a faint pulsating quality. The woman approached it with an aggressive and almost haughty stride, putting her face up close to the misshapen orb and examining it with stony eyes. “He comes up with the damndest things, Harameus help him.” “Shim knew you would be pleased!” The Pycon responsible for this mess slid in through the window above, and leapt excitedly onto the ground on the other side of the table. “You see how it glows?! Glowing cave mushrooms a trader had from Syrilias. Shim bought his whole stock! Took many steps, many philters to make it, had to liquefy the glass, add the glow, subtract plant like quality, first couple never hardened, Silver nitrate expensive but aided in fusing glass and plant together, synthesized glow. Think! Glass that needs no flame inside it, can be held in palm of hand, put on a string and attached to saddle bags! Made into small pieces and put on armor!” Shim danced around, and then clapped his hands once. The action brought calm over his face, and suddenly the Pycon’s brow furrowed and he settled into thoughtful contemplation. “If only he knew things about glyphing, a sign or two written on this orb, on the pedestal, maybe some d-wire creating a circuit of djed could lead to adjustable light, it could be turned off to conserve energy, lengthen rate of decay, do not know, but possibilities are great. Requires further study.” Now Shim just began muttering to himself, forgetting his Grandmother was there as one heeled foot tapped slowly on the wooden floor, clearly setting a beat to his rushing thoughts. Today he appeared as an upper class woman in a long evening dress, a clay feather poking out of well-organized and loosely curled hair. As he contemplated he returned to his usual form, that of the riding maiden, for the other lady had clearly taken some time to put together. The old woman Pycon, who had settled into an expectant silence, glaring clay eyes fixed upon her grandson, saw that her look was getting her nowhere, as it usually did not, walked over and grabbed the Pycon’s ear, stretching it enough to cause Shim to be broken apart from his thoughts. “OW. Why do you do this to him, Grandmother, are you not pleased with Shim’s work?” “I will be pleased to see when this workshop is cleaned and you fetch us the supply of clay from down at the shop just as you were asked to do. These theatrics do not make me pleased, only perturbed.” Chided, Shim lowered his head. “Forgive Shim, Grandmother, he gets carried away, and is only happy to have someone to show his work to.” The Older woman was already walking out the door and just waved a mottled hand and snorted. She wasn’t one for affection, but Shim smiled a bit, for he knew she was never truly mad at his practices, just glad not to be alone anymore. The Pycon took a damp rag and wiped himself off. He was covered with dust and dirt from various crushed herbs, soot, and charcoal. The pervasive smell wouldn’t wash off for a while, so it would just have to do. The Konti never seemed to mind, they only would give barely amused looks and remark upon Shim’s particular scents politely as if he had picked out a new perfume. Brick colored eyes perused the workshop. It could be cleaned later, tomorrow even, so he decided to just pick up their clay. The two Pycon’s lived in a small space above one of the apartments in the Taviasa. While one could hop onto the balcony, scoot through a window and take the long way down human steps, Shim preferred just sliding down a pipe that cycled water through the fountain located outside of their building: By wrapping a cloth around the outside of the piping he could slide down to ground level rather swiftly. A gentle thump heralded Shim’s landing, and he clicked his tongue against his mouth, an action that could make a lot of noise when you were made of clay. After a moment a giant form of coal fur rounded the corner and sped at a dead sprint toward the Pycon. It was Snowflake’s new favorite game: Chicken. Would she stop in time and spare Shim the time it took to reform after being tackled by a 200 lb canine made of muscle? Or would he jump out of the way and be forced to put up with her wolfish grin, knowing she had scared him out of the way, ever the alpha dog of the pair? This time Shim held his ground and met the Zypherian Sled Dog’s icy blue eyes, with a chilling stare of his own. There were a few tense moments, Snow bearing down on him like a furry cannon ball, but she skidded to a halt, barely knocking him off balance before she lowered herself down to a seated position so Shim could hoist himself upon her back. The Pycon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and Snowflake snuffled in an affronted manner as if offended at his surprise. She didn’t have any of her riding gear on today, but there was no need, the walk was just far enough to take too long with short clay legs, and Shim wouldn’t need his saddle pad today. He tapped his left heel once against Snow’s side, signaling for her to rise, then twice in rapid succession to indicate movement. He didn’t need to let her know their destination, for he always picked up their clay shipment on the same day in the same place, and the Zypherian was a good schedule keeper. Snowflake set off at a trot towards Unity Circle, and Shim sat back admiring the scenery. He could never get over the beauty of Mura. The women within its waters and upon its shores, the way every building complemented and blended into the landscape. He was no fan of the water, but he still enjoyed walking to its edges and glimpsing some of the beautiful aquatic wildlife. The plants were invaluable to his philtering, which he was always trying to improve, and the Konti were a giving and understanding people, as long as it was returned. It was just then that Mura’s equivalent of a squirrel raced across their pathway. It was a small amphibian with giant inquisitive eyes, and sharp pointy teeth, and even though from what Shim had garnered they weren’t bright creatures, it still seemed to grin at them before dashing off to the side. The Pycon observed its departure, mind drifting to this event for a moment, but not considering it too heavily until Snowflake’s weight shifted beneath him and she raced after it. The Pycon became quite confused. Snow was not some untrained mutt to chase after rodents and their aquatic equivalents. He tapped her side with both heels, the signal to stop, but she rushed onward. The Pycon knew he had not the strength, nor the will to stop the canine from doing what she wanted, so he clung to her fur, and allowed her to take him where she will. Shim figured everything was meant to happen for a reason: His discovery of the Alchemy book in his father’s belongings, his parents discovering his actions, his meeting with his Grandmother. The world was what you made it, but the threads of fate were not adjusted by mortals, but by gods. To assume to have complete control over one’s life was a naive thought, and the Pycon took comfort in following one of the only God’s who didn’t just tell him his will. So he sought it out. He alarmed his Grandmother at times, if anything ever fell in the apartment he’d examine it carefully before picking it up, any changes that occurred, from the type of clay they received to new vendors in the Unity Circle were just minute elements in Harameus’s subtle workings, and Shim always sought the elusive god’s advice wherever he might be able to find it. Now was no different. While Shim’s vision was inhibited by Snow’s thick fur, his face close to her body to keep from being thrown off, he knew where they were heading: The Crystal Cavern. He had been to it a couple times when frustration or magic block got the better of him, sitting in meditative silence easily mastered by the clay man that could so easily become motionless, leaving the Pycon alone with his thoughts. They were wonderfully exquisite caves, filled with wonder and danger in equal measure, so if the Pycon went very far into them, he was generally in the company of a Konti who knew her way around. Now the caves were all but empty, and there was no point in calling out as Snow rushed by in a blaze of unbound energy, bent on catching her prey. The Pycon couldn’t help but feel his clay squirm a little at going into the depths of these caves unguided. In the beginning of the caves, they were well lit, both by crystal formations and by handmade lanterns, but the farther the canine raced into the caverns, the less frequent both light sources became, until finally, in near pitch darkness, Snowflake stopped very suddenly, and Shim was thrown bodily from her shoulders, flying onto the ground with a wet Smack. The Pycon took a couple minutes to reform himself, glaring in the direction he thought Snow was in, then dusted himself off as it were, and tried to assess his surroundings. A wet, snuffling nose, eager to make sure Shim was alright, bumped gently into the Pycon’s back, startling Shim since he thought the dog was in front of him. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he righted himself, stroking her muzzle. “Yes, yes, Shim forgives you. Remember to do that with the saddle though, so Shim has foot holds.” He paused. “Wait, don’t do that again, that’s right. Never do that again.” The Pycon rubbed his forehead, he was so bad at reinforcing rules with Snow, it was a good thing she was only a bit mischievous, or he’d have a real problem on his clay hands. As he started walking forward, Shim realized he had a limp going on in one of his legs. This didn’t make any sense until he remembered what was there, and he reformed his leg to reveal a small sliver of the glass he had fashioned, removing it from his side where it had been resting. He moved his newly freed joints a couple of times before holding the shimmering glass up. It sure wasn’t as potent as a lantern, but it allowed Shim to see in a short radius in front of him, outlining Snowflake’s face. He tapped her nose and she sat back down, ready for the ride. “Alright, let us try again, this time slowly, Shim is pretty sure we are lost.” He tapped her side again and Snow proceeded in the direction that the Pycon hoped was back toward the entrance of the caverns, peering forward into the inky blackness. It was a long time of going through the twisted caverns before Shim realized that it was even darker now than when they had set out. He stopped Snow and dismounted, walking toward the wall with his tiny light. The rocks were covered with dampness, evidence of how close most of the cavern was to the water. Making sure he was at least heading in the opposite direction from that which they were going, the Pycon started again, this time walking on his own, taking stock of his surroundings from his new vantage point while Snow shadowed him close behind. A faint light heralded a cluster of the crystals that contained the Konti’s precious vision water. Shim approached them, hand brushing over the smooth surface of the outcropping, tracing the geometric patterns that they had formed in. They didn’t emit very much light, it seemed to be an internal source from the water, but it was still lighter than the pitch black. Shim’s hand stopped upon one crystal that jutted out in the opposite pattern from the rest, and looked at it closely. The rest of the stones seemed to form a Tetragonal formation, while this almost seemed to be an entirely different pattern, Monoclinic perhaps? Shim could never remember, he had read about them in a very scientific journal he had borrowed from a visiting trader and the precise ways that crystals would grow. Regardless it was a different formation from the rest that his small hand was resting upon now, and it pointed to the far left of the three pathways Snow and he had to choose from to continue their journey. The Shim nodded appreciatively and led the sled dog down this tunnel. Generally Shim was a bit overzealous when translating signs from Harameus, but he always knew when he was on target, for he’d get a feeling at the nape of his neck, as if there was a presence just behind him. He had long ago stopped turning around, and imagined that Harameus was more of a river like flow in the universe than one solid object, but that it was just the only way his body could react when such a great and magnanimous entity was abound. This feeling at the back of his head seemed to increase as he journeyed on, almost imperceptibly at first to the point where the Pycon felt tingly all over. One by one he would catch sight of objects in the cave that would urge him forward, indicating, left, right, or center depending on his choices in routes. Some indications were as straightforward as the crystal formation, while others required the Pycon to spend much more time with them, like the pool of inky black water with strange glowing lily pads floating upon the surface that pulsated with different intertwining patterns and colors. Even as he continued the Pycon realized he was going even deeper into the caverns, and that there was almost no hope of finding the entrance, but he had never felt that Harameus was trying to reach out to him as acutely as he did now, and his natural curiosity urged him forward. The Pycon could tell the distance they had traveled when Snowflake tripped and fell to the ground. It was one thing for the clay man to go a couple days without his source of food, but the fleshy mammal needed sustenance and rest. There was no way to judge time in the caverns, but Shim halted and rushed back to Snow, it must have been a long time for the sled dog to be so weary. She started getting up, but Shim just clucked his tongue. “No, you must stay, dehydrated.” The Pycon dashed back little ways and found the small stream, they had just passed by, forming his hands together into a small bowl and filling them with water. He took his time back towards the dog, making sure not to spill a single drop, and held it under her eager muzzle. After she had drank, Shim looked her in those tired blue eyes. “Shim will go on ahead, you will rest here. When you are better, you will leave and find help.” The sled dog started to rise again. “NO!” They Pycon screamed. His voice, that deep baritone, could be very loud when he wished it to be, and it reverberated in a violent manner off the enclosed walls back onto the pair of travelers with a vengeful staccato of repetition. Snowflake’s ears flattened to her skull, eyes dropping down and avoiding his stony gaze. Shim sighed. “Shim has to go alone from here. You rest. Then you must find a way out, Shim will be left here without any chance to leave if not. Okay?” The canine looked reluctantly up at the Pycon, but let her eyes close and drifted off to sleep almost instantaneously. By the time she woke she would have to find her way out in order to garner the Konti’s help and find him. Shim stroked the sled dog’s head and turned back down the passageway. To this day Shim cannot remember everything he saw within those caverns that night, and truth be told the Konti probably prefer it that way. There were giant and miniscule creatures of great beauty, half fish, half plants, seemingly violent and hostile entities that paid the small clay man no mind. Sometimes the cavern was blacker than night, and other times it was a riot of color and light brighter than any human city. Shim has no doubt that it was not only Harameus that was guiding him safely through the caves that night, and every now and then will remember to extend a kind word of prayer to Laviku and Avalis. No matter what happened, what events transpired, Shim remembers being alone, realizing that state in its entirety as his vision cleared and he reached an end of the cavern. The room he was in was well lit by handmade lights, just as there were in the entrance of caves, but Shim had no doubt he was in one of the deepest areas. He stood on a small peninsula of rock in the middle of a great shimmering pool of water a deep aquamarine color, of which he could not see the bottom. It was a serene and utterly quiet place, and the Pycon’s mind immediately felt clear and open, his body practically vibrating with the sense of another presence. It created a strange tingling sensation up his arms, knowing he was utterly alone, while aware that he was most certainly not. It was foreign, but almost comforting as well, for this was the way of the divine, in a way one was never alone. The Pycon sat down in a meditative posture at the end of the peninsula, just large enough to fit a single Konti, and more than enough space for someone of his stature. The water rippled once, barely, not from a source like a child throwing a pebble, but as if a stray breeze had just wound its way down the same path Shim had traveled, just to disturb the hardened glass state of the liquid that surrounded him. For the Pycon this almost felt like a shout, it seemed so loud compared to any of the other symbols the deity had given him, perhaps the closest thing Harameus would ever give someone to actual speech or form, and for a moment he basked in the fact that he was given this opportunity. He sat there in the cavern, light reflecting upon skin. He did not speak, nor search for any more signs, it was clear that this was the end of this particular journey, so he closed his eyes and sat in Harameus’s presence, content. He was awoken by a familiar wet snout pushing gently against his shoulder. The Pycon turned his head backwards to see his furry companion, and a Konti dressed in long flowing robes, staring at him inquisitively. If anyone had asked Shim what had happened in those caves, which the Konti did not, he wouldn’t have been able to describe what had happened. To be sure not a word passed between Harameus and Shim on that long night…or morning. But things like that, time, speech, form, they were utterly meaningless, obstacles that clouded a path that lay above physical and perceived things. Some message had been passed from God to worshipper in that space of meditation, and even the Pycon was unsure of just what it was, only knowing that somewhere in that space of time, he had gained one step in his understanding of the flow of the universe, much in part thanks to the entity who liked to keep events moving forward. That was another feeling that he had imparted upon his faithful Pycon, one that he would also be moving on soon. He was guided from the cave, given his supply of clay and taken home by the ever faithful Snowflake, who carried him all the way up to the apartment. His Grandmother who was about to set into some Tirade, stopped as soon as she caught one glance of her Grandson’s eyes, and the rest of the day Shim spent cleaning the lab in something close to a stupor. It wasn’t till he was almost finished that he noticed something, a faint glow on the back of his left hand. He rubbed the clay with a finger, but the glow did not stop, and when he turned his hand so he could see the palm, he realized a mark had been left by his God, an intricate alchemical ring, glowing faintly just like the glass he had made. Everything seemed to piece itself together, and it was that evening that his Grandmother confessed to the Pycon that she had nothing more to teach him, words that brought a knowing smile to his clay features.