Between A Rock... (Solo)

by **Aoren** on September 4th, 2012, 1:07 am

"...and a hard place." Aoren sighed heavily as he set his quill pen down next to the scroll he'd been fussing with all afternoon. The barely finished Glyph was hardly what he would call a master piece. He looked at the pattern. A complete waist of ink. He looked at the lines. A complete waste of time. With weary resignation he pushed himself away from his small table in his equally small apartment and rose from his chair. He ran his hands over his face and took a few deep breaths of the fetid air that circulated around the one room living quarter. It made him frown. Such was one of the many disadvantages of living in the bowels of one enormous perpetually crowded castle.

Taking another deep breath of that same foul air the young man brought his right hand up to chest level cupping it slightly. Closing his eyes he steadied his breathing, did his best to clear his mind of all the noise resounding throughout the city and touched that inner spark within the depths of his mind. The spark that was always there but was carefully walled off so as to prevent it from becoming a raging inferno. Fire Aoren knew. Fire was passion. Fire was warmth. It burned and grew with a life of its own that was not so much controlled as it was prodded toward a gainful end. Right now however, Aoren was not seeking to release his inner fire into the world. No. He sought the breath of life that rested deep within his lungs.

A few more deep breaths and he found it. Air. Air was another matter. It was whimsical. Constantly in motion and care-free. Aoren was anything but care-free. He found Air a little more temperamental than Fire. Fire sang. You could always feel its power rushing in and around you. Air whispered. One had to listen closely to its flow and pattern in order to master it. When Aoren opened his eyes a swirling ball of gaseous Res hovered in his cupped hand. It was a royal blue. Like all of Aoren's magic. The color of his eyes. Aoren converted the gas to the form of its intended purpose by extending his hand and releasing the gas gently. The blue gas spread thinner and thinner until it vanished entirely becoming a gentle breeze that wafted through the apartment.

Aoren smirked in satisfaction. That was all it took. The breeze turned violent for but a brief moment, knocking over an unlit candlestick, blowing his parchment onto the floor and throwing his quill pen into the wall before it dissipated. The reimancer huffed. Air. It was whimsical. That was for certain. His apartment didn't seem so fetid anymore though, albeit he now had some cleaning to do. He was content with that. One small victory at a time. Tidying up he set the instruments of his craft into the chest at the foot of his bed. He went to his table, doused two of the three burning candles and went to the door of his apartment. With one last glance around he opened the door blew out his candle setting it just inside and to the left then stepped out into the corridor closing and locking the door behind him.

The dull din of Syliras greeted him more forcefully outside the confines of his apartment. Fortunately where he was headed he could clear his head a bit. Aoren was not a drinker. Thus taverns held no appeal to him. People made him nervous so the interaction he had around them while doing his odd jobs here and there was certainly more than enough social activity for him outside of the rare close friend. Wading his way through the masses of the third tier of Syliras city Aoren kept his head down only so far as to avoid prolonged eye contact with anyone of significance.

He turned down corridors of importance here and there weaving his way toward his destination. To the free air. To the surface. He trudged along much like any citizen of the fortress city would. Doing his utmost best to avoid the attention of the Knights. Where he was going there were certain to be a sparse few of them. Aoren made his way to the surface with relative ease. Once there he took a deep breath. The smell of the Citadel was still in the air but it was less intrusive. He could feel the gentle breeze of the ocean air not far. Even within the heart of the castle here on the surface he could feel it. Aoren turned his footsteps toward the open sea. There were still people walking about in the twilight air. The time of day where Leth's darkness and Syna's brilliance intermingled.

Resting a hand on the pommel of his sword he observed the destruction that was still being repaired from the storms of the previous Spring. With so many people working toward a common goal, the continued security and structural integrity of the city, there was not much of it left. That which had been salvaged had been seen to. That which needed to be repaired was well under reconstruction. Eventually his footsteps led him to the one place within the city where Aoren could properly clear his head.The Docks. Or what was left of them. While not nearly as complete as before the storms they were still the most peaceful place in Syliras. At least in Aoren's opinion.

Sand and saltwater. Crates and cargo. Ships and sailors all going about their business or rather they were finishing it in preparation of the evening. Aoren sighed. He wasn't interested in being bothered so he took to the small beach that trailed along the shore beyond the walls of the castle. It wasn't much and seldom frequented as Sylirans had little interest in the miniscule coastline just outside the walls but it was enough for Aoren. Here he could think. Here he could get some semblance of clarity. He took up a spot near a rather large boulder dug into the sands. The water lapped at its base. No doubt in time the boulder would be added to the countless others that littered the ground beneath his boots as a grain of sand. Such was the fate of all stone that presumed to withstand the grave might of the sea.

Autumn did little in the way of offering a warm welcome to those who ventured outside the warmth of their homes. Aoren didn't mind though. Climbing, he seated himself atop the large boulder and stared out over the vastness of the seas. What else lay beyond the horizon he wondered. Perhaps in time he would one day find out. Today however he needed to clear his head. Reaching down he tugged off his boots dropping them in the small expanse of sand behind him then folded his legs into a meditative pose. Aoren lacked the discipline and aptitude to properly meditate. He didn't know much about it but he did know that sitting like this, gazing out over the twilight kissed waters gave him peace of mind. A rare thing in such a chaotic world.

There he sat caught between the profound beauty of a dying day and the onset of a night that could be both elegant and terrible. The waves of the sea crashing against the shore and rolling over each other was all that surrounded him. He let go of everything. He let go of the need to study the Glyphs for hours upon hours. He let go of the need to master his Reimancy. He simply was. And then the answer hit him.

"Ha ha! Of course!" Opening his eyes he tapped his thumped his forehead as if struck by some grand revelation. Inhaling deeply of the world around him he focused not on the essence of breath around him but rather the flow of the air itself. He'd been too caught up trying to master the unseen currents of wind and bend them to his will from the start rather than molding his own will to flow with the world around him.

The answer seemed so simple and yet so inescapably complex at the same time. Bringing his hands together he slowly but surely conjured the ethereal blue gaseous Res that was a prelude to his Air reimancy. Aoren quirked his head to the side slightly feeling the flux and flow of the wind around him. There was always some flow of it. Even in the bowels of the castle. The trick was matching it then willing it into action. The gas began to stir and Aoren released it from his hands. It spun around him following the currents of the air then buffeted his side forcefully before dissipating into the essence of the world.

With a content sigh Aoren rest his hands behind his head a smile on his lips. Not perfect but he was getting somewhere.

"Now if only the answers to Glyphing came that easy. You'd be proud of me, Lee." He looked up into the darkening sky before hopping down from the boulder. The texture of the sand beneath his feet felt odd but good. He pulled on his boots and wrapped his cloak about himself more snugly and made his way back to his cramped little apartment in his cramped city.

That night he sat at his table and wrote in his journal for a while before going to bed.

3rd Day of Fall 512 AV

"Not all answers are clear. Not all are forthcoming. Sometimes the more you focus on the problem in front of you the less clearly you can see the answers that lay in the distance. It may be, that sometimes...in order to understand some things you must not try to understand them at all. Then the answers will come of their own accord.

Who can say? Certainly not I. For now, another day has come and gone. Tomorrow will surely bring its own set of questions and troubles."