Closed Late for class.

[Miles]

59th of Winter 512 AV

The morning was bitterly cold, forcing Miles awake with the sunrise. Normally a lethargic man, Miles quickly got up and began a fire for warmth and the morning activities. He boiled some water for a hot bath, and some morning tea and soup, taking some dried cheese and bread (a small portion of a dangerously low stash) to accompany the spiced soup and hint of mint in his Echinacea tea. He gazed into the gray skies over Zeltiva that awaited him for a moment before grabbing his clothes and going to bathe.

Plans dominated his mind as he bathed, half aware of the routine he was trained to. Absently humming snatches from Tavern tunes he washed thoroughly and practiced relaxing his body and practiced moving the soap through the water powered only by his Djed. The force it took to move the object was infinitely less (using water as a surface was rather ingenious, he thought) and so rather than focusing on touching the object with a large amount of Djed to move it, Miles was able to concentrate more on precision. Using this method he worked a bit on directing his projection- touching in specific places to watch it move.

Water worked both ways however, if Miles wished to exhaust himself, he would do so easily by trying to hold the piece of soap under water. because the soap constantly tries to force itself to the top, Miles would be forced not only to push through water, but to expand the area pushed to keep holding the soap. The larger the area pushed, the harder to move the water, and thus you have the formula. It's like lifting weights with the soul. Miles worked on precise Djed usage, deciding to leave the more strenuous exercises for his last reserves when he returned to bathe in the evening.

It had been only a few days after his "incident" in the basement, and Miles thought it years ago. His confidence had expanded as he began to learn more about himself, and about his ability to use and control his Djed. School was going to change his life- once he found a teacher- once he got established, he would be on his way to his goals: one step closer to touching greatness.

He selected a light tan as his outfit's coordination today, as it appeared to be more expensive and cleaner than his other clothing. He would have to get around to changing his attire once he began to make money- establishing fortune came in appearance first- once people believed you should have money, they had no problem giving it to you.

Leaving the safety of his home, Miles set off into the morning to brave one of Zeltiva's most perilous areas: the hallowed halls of the University. Struggling to shrug off the fatigue of early morning Djed usage, Miles wrapped his cloak tightly about him and made his way through the town.

[Miles]

Walking through town, MIles kept his hood up, presenting a warm smile to all townsfolk who happened to pass his way. The light clothing made him seem more approachable, as opposed to the darks he normally wore. Even his cloak was thrown open, revealing a lithe body under well cleaned linen clothing.

Each person who passed not only got a word of greeting, if they were so inclined to share a moment, they got conversation as well. MIles continually introduced himself, shaking hands heartily and slapping backs of those friendly enough to allow it. It was inspiring to see the amount of lifted spirits and amiable interaction a change in clothing and a sunny disposition can produce. As a vagabond, it was easy to get used to shifty eyes, slouched stance and quick hands. This was why East Street was easily recognizable- people radiated their intentions- well most people, especially the sinister. Miles had come to maturity upon discovering Djed- there was a power he possessed all along that he hadn't a clue of: what else was he capable of?

By the time he got into the vicinity of the University, it was approaching midday. He had taken time to explore the town, to make his face known in a positive light. He would need it in the days to come. Once he reached the University grounds, he felt the fatigue earned earlier in the morning leave him. He was renewed with the fever of the student: ready to learn, ready to soak up the vastness Academia had to offer. All he had to do, was find the right building.

All he had to do.

His "theory" class did not begin until the afternoon, and so he had a small eternity to familiarize himself with the grounds, a task he was sure he could not do in a year, no-to-mention a few hours. He strode past young students, aging scholars and caught bits of shop talk- he got a taste of classes, passing outside of rooms where everything from a Study in Color to Summoning seemed from behind closed doors and heavy windows to his hearing. The University was alive with curiosity: it was palpable in the air to the eager minded student. Miles, the student.

Miles wondered just how much it held- how many treasured secrets lay in shadow- host only to the darkened rooms or minds they remain locked away inside. Secrets and shadows: every person held them- every person protected their own. Miles longed to enter each universe he beheld: the two women walking briskly and laughing at each other- the man seated alone surveying an old statue with nothing but an old sketchbook- the old man carrying tomes and scrolls in a skittering fashion, one that reminded him of Besnik. Each he saw as a shadow- a living darkness that he could not yet penetrate. With time however, maybe he would learn a few new worlds to explore.

Miles found himself in what he considered to be a more "residential area" when he found he needed to rest. His throat was parched and his stomach threatened to erupt in dissatisfaction if it was held without food for much longer. He found a stone bench and sat, hunting with his eyes, a casual glance here, a smile and wave there signifying to those who saw him that he was no miscreant. He wondered how long it would be until he stopped getting lost- when the first time he would greet a new student, name a class and instruct that poor soul on how to navigate the great darkness that the University grounds seems to be. After class, perhaps the Quills Rest would be a treat- that is if everything went well.

Miles searched the ground between his feet and found three handheld stones. He threw each in the air, testing their weight at first. He had never learned to juggle- but he had an idea that would help him keep focus and learn to pinpoint his Djed use even further. He threw up a stone as straight as he could, and attempted to relax his body, disconnect the flow of djed from his right arm, and touch that stone before it hit the ground.

The method was simple: he spent three or four minutes tossing the stone up and down- three seconds in the air, four seconds in the air, five- and gauging the amount of force it took each time. Once comfortable throwing and catching the stone, he then would toss a stone, and give himself up to five seconds relax himself, focus on the joint in his wrist, push it outward from his hand, and let the stone hit just above his hand before it touched his skin. The amount of Djed it used was relatively small, it was not a show of force, but of speed. Miles was careful not to damage himself in the process, everything he had achieved so far had been from careful experimentation- nothing too fast, nothing too risky. Miles started this training, careful to train his face to calm, so to the outside observer he would seem just a man tossing a stone up and down.

[Ignotus Everto]

It was relieving to be among his own kind again. After a rather long stint away from home, Ignotus was once more surrounded by scholars and sorcerers, and he couldn't be more grateful. After the hostility of Sunberth, the University's comforting walls and welcoming atmosphere was a joy to be around.

And why not spread the good cheer around? Ever since the Nuit had returned, he'd been spending a good amount of his time humming in the halls. While that in and of itself was perhaps slightly entertaining, what the humming housed was the real gift. Anyone who heard the humming would feel their spirits uplifted just a little. It wasn't quite spreading joy to the world, but it definitely made some of the West Wing a little bit happier.

It was happenstance that took Ignotus past Miles. It was a watchful eye that showed him that he had passed another wizard. Not only that, but one who wielded a discipline he too possessed. Of course, even a cursory glance at Miles told the Nuit that the boy's abilities with Projection outstripped his own by quite a bit. He himself, while more comfortable outside his skin than most, still struggled to do something as simple as opening a door.

While it made Ignotus a little envious, it also made him curious. Was this another one of Azarov's students? The easiest, and most pleasant way to find out was also the most natural.

Perhaps it was pride that convinced him to catch Miles' attention using his own Projection. Perhaps it was simply because it gave him an excuse to manipulate his Djed. Whatever the reason, the result was the same. Thirty two ticks after Ignotus first spotted him, when the stone was at its apex, it froze in place instead of falling back down. Immediately following was a voice asking, "You're a Projectionist too, yes?" A tick later, the stone fell back down as it would normally.

[Miles]

Miles was lost in the rhythm of practice- and so he was surprised to the point of jumping when Ignotus spoke. The rock missed his hand, and he missed the projection, a minor defeat in the face of many victories. He had never felt another use Djed (or never recognized it as such) so close to him before: there was a eerie sense that tickled the back of his mind.

He withdrew his focus immediately, feeling his control of his Djed transition to the back of his mind rather than the forefront. An after-effect of his recent work, his understanding of Djed had changed, he was constantly aware of his body, of the way it interacted with the world. Djed mastery did not change his body, or even extend the soul, rather it stretched the way his thoughts and wants interacted with the world: currently he projected his body because he understood it the best. How he wished for his theory class to begin!

Miles regarded the older man before him, trying to weigh his accent, searching his eyes for contempt and looking at his posture for any signs of aggression. His first instinct was that of a caught child, he wanted to explain himself and disappear all at the same time. It was then Ignotus' words weighed in. "A projectionist? I am a student at best- fumbling my way through the dark while I wait for my theory class to begin. This feels more innate than educated, a foundation is what I lack." He waited a beat and then added: "but even more interesting, is what you are. I.. felt the stone lose rhythm- and you intervene. Are you.. experienced.. in these ways?" Trying to ignore the ache and fatigue that threatened him now that he was distracted from practice he suppressed a yawn and instead embarrassed himself even more by allowing his stomach to growl rather viciously. "I am Miles- student amongst other things. Do you teach here?"

[Ignotus Everto]

"One's casting doesn't change." Ignotus replied to the lesser wizard's confession. "Just their understanding." the wizard chuckled at the boy's inquiry. "In Projection? No, I was only initiated a season ago! In the arcane?" he shrugged, "You could say so, yes."

Miles' growling stomach elicited another chuckle from the Nuit. His own stomach hadn't growled in more than thirty years. He'd almost forgotten what it meant. "You'll want to be a little careful if you're making yourself hungry already." the Hypnotist said, a tinge of gravity leaking into his voice, "Overgiving is a nasty business."

In response to the boy's question, he bowed his head slightly and said, "Ignotus Everto, Reimancer, Animator, Glypher, Projectionist, and scholar, at your service."

Perhaps he had left out the discipline he was most talented at, but Ignotus was no fool. Hypnotists were not looked kindly upon. "Not a teacher, however. I've been dabbling as long as many have been alive, and Reimancy is my profession, but that doesn't change things, now does it? Of course not."

Of course, he was also quite fond of inflating his ego.

[Miles]

His accent was so strange, though something in the back of his mind was touched, Miles couldn't bring anything to surface. He agreed with Ignotus' first statement- the power he had already welled within him- it was his ability to understand and manipulate that grew and matured- he was raw stone that with focus and determination would chisel his mind into a work of art. Before that however, he'd need the proper tools, and a decent teacher.

"I can't wait to learn more- I have a serious interest in Glyphing- as it is said to enhance Djed control." Miles shifted uncomfortably, admitting a terrible truth. He hated not knowing- hated it entirely. "I've never even heard of the other two.. I have a book about Glyphs, but haven't really been able to understand it all." Abraham's notes, once he got to cataloging them, would be of assistance, as the book was written in a tongue he didn't really know. Yet another reason for a teacher. In reference to the professors warning, he stated "I've been at it in one form or another all morning. I rest when I'm tired, but, I must have forgotten my lunch meal." A term the man said caught his hear: "Overgiving?" He repeated it as if it were something important he should have remembered. "Overgiving.. I've read about it, but I confess I don't understand how it works- I don't know how much of it works really: you give something to use your Djed to effect the world- let's call that focus. What happens when that focus runs out? I mean, the term 'overgiving' but what is that really? Is it the same every time?" Caught up with the lust to learn, Miles could feel his heart quicken, his palms grow moist and the fever of new information begin to take hold. He schooled his features to calm after his third question in a row, hoping the man would have at least one answer.

Miles invited the man to sit by standing and graciously motioning. Now that he was identified as a teacher Ignotus had all of his attention and respect. The man may well have been on a way to class or to some sort of formal affair and Miles contemplated apologizing, however the need to know outweighed the need to be polite. Miles' eyes held a certain desperation for knowledge he never thought would be quenched.

[Ignotus Everto]

While not a formal teacher, Ignotus knew another with a lust for learning when he saw them, and it didn't take long for him to shift completely into the academic. "It can do much more than that." he said with a soft smile, "But that's only for the more experienced. For dabblers, it's just giving everything a little boost."

Miles' ignorance of overgiving, however, was worrying. It was also, however, easy to fix. "Come with me." Ignotus said grimly, beckoning the boy with a finger before setting off down the hallway. "It would be easier to show you."

It wasn't a particularly short walk, as their destination was nowhere near the residential quarter, and for good reason. However, after a half-bell, they came to a rather large, moldy building with stout wood and iron doors. Trees that had long shed their leaves served to shield the asylum from the outside, and the windows had bars. Even from where they were standing, a few feet from the door, the screams, moans, and jabbering of the insane were audible.

"This is what happens." the Nuit said dispassionately, motioning to the scholar's asylum with a sweeping gesture of the arm, "They're the lucky ones. They only went insane. If you want to see the unfortunate ones, visit the cemetary."

To avoid scaring the boy too much, and to be completely truthful, he added, "Of course, these are only extreme examples. If you can catch yourself just as you start to overdo it, then you will only have some minor disfigurements or odd habits for a few days, and then you'll be right as rain. Well, usually."

With a bitter smile, Ignotus asked, "Any questions?"

[Miles]

How difficult would it be to learn? What would he do? What would he sacrifice? Miles was nearly swept up in this torrent of questions as the Nuit talked a bit about Glyphing. Miles debated on telling him about his book- it wasn't doing the young man much good because it was written in a language he didn't know. He could decipher a few drawings, and he could read notes written in the old man's scrawl, but beyond that, the entire thing was one big secret. Sharing secrets with a man was a sacred task- something that even the desire to know would be tempered by. Miles was pulled from this train of thought by Ignotus' words:

"Come with me- it would be easier to show you."

The young man was already intrigued, thinking he was going to be shown something more about Glyphing. It was exciting to get his first real taste of learning, and Miles treasured any opportunity to add to his small but growing wealth of knowledge. And so, happily he walked, bouncing a small stone in his hand as he kept up with the Nuit.

It was the moans and incoherent babble that alarmed him. Miles soaked up Ignotus' words with a grim comprehension. Thiswas magic? Questions filled his mind and threatened to boil through his eyes as his gaze darted from Ignotus to the door to the ward. "People die from this?"

Fear seized him- fear of the unknown, fear of dangers yet to be felt. At the same time, Miles remembered the fatigue gnawing at his bones, and the hunger he had worked himself in to. His use of Djed had done this?

"Ignotus.. what are we giving up? What is Djed that it can turn a man's mind so? Not to mention killing a man.. what do we give of ourselves that has that much power?" The question seemed simple enough- to receive the powers that he sought, he would have to trade- but at what risk? What could possibly be worth one's sanity? One's life?

[Ignotus Everto]

What is Djed? That was a question that, fortunately for Miles, many men had decided to answer. What was Djed? Ignotus had manipulated it for the better part of his life, but he didn't put much thought into what it was precisely when it wasn't necessary. "What is Djed?" Luckily for Miles, a solid understanding of Animation and Reimancy, as well as several readings of the Treval Codex let Ignotus answer.

Once more, an example was in order. Ignotus brought his hand to his chest's level, and turned his palm up like a butler with a tray of food. A few ticks later, a thick azure fog began to issue from his hand, which quickly condensed and crystallized into a square tile about an inch in length and width that hovered above his hand.

"Djed is, in essence, identity. What it isn't, however, is a substance. For instance, what you see before you is Res. While it is undoubtably magical, it isn't Djed. What you're looking at is part of myself, as much as my skin and soul is. What I have done is take that part of myself, say, my stomach, and changed its identity, its Djed, from stomach to Res. And now a piece of my identity is outside my body, and cannot go back. For a more visual example, this tile is square because its Djed is square. However, I can change its Djed," the tile melted into gel and reformed into a triangle, "into the Djed of a different shape. A triangle. This, however," the tile melted once more and changed back into a square, "this transformation can be reversed. Others," the tile burst into flames, "cannot."

The core of Res feeding the flickering flames slowly flaked to nothing, and the fire with it. "I can only change so much of my stomach Djed to Res Djed without causing my stomach to lose identity. Almost all of us draw from everything. You can imagine what happens to minds deprived of their identity."

Ignotus clasped his hands behind him and looked at Miles with bright, hopeful eyes and a faltering smile. "Does that make sense?" He was not a teacher by profession, and the thought of being a bad one worried him.

[Miles]

The Nuit's words connected nicely to lessons taught by Abraham. Miles had never really understood Djed as an entity, and this gave him a respect for magic that he hadn't quite attained previously. Identity.

Djed was the secret you. In order to paint on the canvas of reality, one must whisper threads of identity to an object- or in his case, to dislodge the "identity" and properties of a body part and extend it using focus and will. It was appropriate then that those who were careless with their secrets paid an ultimate price.

Miles vowed then and there to learn to control this as best he could- so that overgiving would not be accident waiting to happen. Pulling himself from deep thought Miles answered with a nod. "Yes. I think I do. With projection, I take the identity of a body part, and with focus, I re-arrange it to be longer, or thinner, or whatever I please. If my fingers are X length, I can detach that bit of identity from my hand and refocus it to longer, or wider. I understand that much, because I'm not physically transforming Djed from one thing to another. How does one assign Djed a different identity once it is isolated?" Ignotus was not a teacher, this is true- but like all great minds, he held powerful secrets in knowledge that ached to be taught. So perhaps he was not employed as such, but Miles deduced from his dissertation on the properties of Djed and identity that naturally, any learned man ached to teach, and Ignotus was no different. He prepared to soak up every word.

After he spoke, his stomach groaned once more and he stood fighting the light blush that threatened to further redden his already chilled cheeks.