60th of Winter of 513 A.V.
Juggling hot potatoes. That was how the task of micromanaging moving djed within the body was described to her once. Flux required concentration, perhaps not so much as fine concentration at her meager grasp of it, but she would have to mind the task of keeping the djed flowing within. Allowing the energy to stray too long in one place could be catastrophic and she'd witnessed it's dangers firsthand.
Developing this power would take discipline, months of hard work and no small amount of patience. If she wanted to see results, she could not afford to use the power sparingly... but she could not be reckless in it's application either. Cosette tried to integrate the use of flux in her everyday activities, churning butter for instance was one of the most boring... repetitive... yet productive activities she could use this brand of personal magic upon.
She concentrated on the djed moving in her arms. They pulsed, traveled the circuit of muscles in a steady rhythm... a cycle perpetuated by her will, regulated by her will and kept in check by a trace of fear. This body was not one she was willing to damage, not until a replacement was ready and even then it was not in her nature to disrespect the memory of the host bodies she used.
Steady as she went, her arm, hand, djed moved round and round. Her efforts made obvious in the severity of her expression. Many a time she'd been forced to cease her movements, but relinquish control over her djed as a co-worker approached her asking what was wrong. A polite smile, an excuse from a simple tummy-ache to a dispute with a friend was all it took for them to go away so she could once more return dutifully to her job.
Juggling hot potatoes. That was how the task of micromanaging moving djed within the body was described to her once. Flux required concentration, perhaps not so much as fine concentration at her meager grasp of it, but she would have to mind the task of keeping the djed flowing within. Allowing the energy to stray too long in one place could be catastrophic and she'd witnessed it's dangers firsthand.
Developing this power would take discipline, months of hard work and no small amount of patience. If she wanted to see results, she could not afford to use the power sparingly... but she could not be reckless in it's application either. Cosette tried to integrate the use of flux in her everyday activities, churning butter for instance was one of the most boring... repetitive... yet productive activities she could use this brand of personal magic upon.
She concentrated on the djed moving in her arms. They pulsed, traveled the circuit of muscles in a steady rhythm... a cycle perpetuated by her will, regulated by her will and kept in check by a trace of fear. This body was not one she was willing to damage, not until a replacement was ready and even then it was not in her nature to disrespect the memory of the host bodies she used.
Steady as she went, her arm, hand, djed moved round and round. Her efforts made obvious in the severity of her expression. Many a time she'd been forced to cease her movements, but relinquish control over her djed as a co-worker approached her asking what was wrong. A polite smile, an excuse from a simple tummy-ache to a dispute with a friend was all it took for them to go away so she could once more return dutifully to her job.
