25th Autumn 503 AV
It was in the silence that Fallon sat with a red glass ball in her hands. Large eyes stared into its depths, her brow only creasing slightly at its shined surface. She had been given this by her mentor only a few days previously, an unusual gift to say the least, but one that was designed to hold much meaning. It was a tool for training, supposedly. Though short of attempting to lift it around the room and moving it slowly across the floor, there seemed to very little in terms of actual use for it. She gave a scratch at her face, tiny fingers pressing against her cheek before finally falling to her lap. At least, that was what she attempted to do. More often than not she was left with the astral palm flimsily pressing against the surface, and all the energy rapidly sapped from her.
Giving the ball a firm prod, she stared at it. Her young brow came together, a distinct look of careful thought fixing itself there in place. Of course, she knew how to do it, but as she was told projecting the astral for use was much like a muscle. You had to train it, develop it and most importantly understand it. To exist within balance of her new found power was vital beyond belief. For one tiny mishap could spell a quick disaster for her. She gave a scratch at her throat, shoulders hunching in as she leaned down to it. Hot breath steamed up the cold surface, and it was only as she pulled back that she began practicing.
Sitting herself cross legged on the floor, the girl straightened herself. The first task was steadying her breathing, to become aware of herself and her core. Her soul and her energy. Fallon inhaled deeply, the young mind trying to understand and cope with what she was trying to do. A difficult task for a mind that constantly swum with though and ideas, of far of places and colourful fantasies. She gave a shake of the head, a sharp intake of breath. The second was being able to maintain a sense of calm, to not allow herself to worry and to simply do. But even now she was prone to nagging doubts. What if she did it wrong? What if she could not project suddenly? What if she could not return the limb? The list went on.
Cheeks puffed, her mind clearing. She turned her focus to her left hand. Envisioning the astral layer in her mind she plucked at it, djed turning and rippling beneath. It was a difficult thing for her to understand, yet how it worked she could accept. She knew with gentle teasing and pulling it would bend to her will. At least it would with her current discipline. The astral form – to her at least – often appeared in her mind’s eye as a mesh, a second skin that and willed the muscles into movement. It would contract and relax, slipping and sliding through the muscles and skin to bring forth animation. However, she also understood that upon removing this same mesh that it would create another form of manipulation. To many, she quickly came to the conclusion, it would appear as telekinesis; whilst to herself and her mentor it would be the use of the astral onto the physical world.
The mesh vibrated; a dulled ringing from within her ears. Her right hand clenched around the left wrist, a form of preparation to herself and to halt the twitching her left would no doubt do in a few moments time. She inhaled, back straightening, the mesh being plucked and teased. There was no rush, her mentor had clearly said there was no point in forcing it to come – it would only because it would create more harm than good. Her brow creased, her young mind trying to once more clear. Slowly, that was the best way to go. There was no rush; there was only her to think about, only her and her simple existence in the world.
She gave a pull at the mesh, the threads that held it there tensing before they slipped. Her right hand tightened, closed eyes clenching as she poured in her focus. She found the joint at the elbow, the strings quivering as the first was loosened. The sensation did not come quickly, it was slow and tentative, a submerging into numbness. Her flesh contracted and then promptly gave beneath her, falling lifeless beneath its weight.
It was in the silence that Fallon sat with a red glass ball in her hands. Large eyes stared into its depths, her brow only creasing slightly at its shined surface. She had been given this by her mentor only a few days previously, an unusual gift to say the least, but one that was designed to hold much meaning. It was a tool for training, supposedly. Though short of attempting to lift it around the room and moving it slowly across the floor, there seemed to very little in terms of actual use for it. She gave a scratch at her face, tiny fingers pressing against her cheek before finally falling to her lap. At least, that was what she attempted to do. More often than not she was left with the astral palm flimsily pressing against the surface, and all the energy rapidly sapped from her.
Giving the ball a firm prod, she stared at it. Her young brow came together, a distinct look of careful thought fixing itself there in place. Of course, she knew how to do it, but as she was told projecting the astral for use was much like a muscle. You had to train it, develop it and most importantly understand it. To exist within balance of her new found power was vital beyond belief. For one tiny mishap could spell a quick disaster for her. She gave a scratch at her throat, shoulders hunching in as she leaned down to it. Hot breath steamed up the cold surface, and it was only as she pulled back that she began practicing.
Sitting herself cross legged on the floor, the girl straightened herself. The first task was steadying her breathing, to become aware of herself and her core. Her soul and her energy. Fallon inhaled deeply, the young mind trying to understand and cope with what she was trying to do. A difficult task for a mind that constantly swum with though and ideas, of far of places and colourful fantasies. She gave a shake of the head, a sharp intake of breath. The second was being able to maintain a sense of calm, to not allow herself to worry and to simply do. But even now she was prone to nagging doubts. What if she did it wrong? What if she could not project suddenly? What if she could not return the limb? The list went on.
Cheeks puffed, her mind clearing. She turned her focus to her left hand. Envisioning the astral layer in her mind she plucked at it, djed turning and rippling beneath. It was a difficult thing for her to understand, yet how it worked she could accept. She knew with gentle teasing and pulling it would bend to her will. At least it would with her current discipline. The astral form – to her at least – often appeared in her mind’s eye as a mesh, a second skin that and willed the muscles into movement. It would contract and relax, slipping and sliding through the muscles and skin to bring forth animation. However, she also understood that upon removing this same mesh that it would create another form of manipulation. To many, she quickly came to the conclusion, it would appear as telekinesis; whilst to herself and her mentor it would be the use of the astral onto the physical world.
The mesh vibrated; a dulled ringing from within her ears. Her right hand clenched around the left wrist, a form of preparation to herself and to halt the twitching her left would no doubt do in a few moments time. She inhaled, back straightening, the mesh being plucked and teased. There was no rush, her mentor had clearly said there was no point in forcing it to come – it would only because it would create more harm than good. Her brow creased, her young mind trying to once more clear. Slowly, that was the best way to go. There was no rush; there was only her to think about, only her and her simple existence in the world.
She gave a pull at the mesh, the threads that held it there tensing before they slipped. Her right hand tightened, closed eyes clenching as she poured in her focus. She found the joint at the elbow, the strings quivering as the first was loosened. The sensation did not come quickly, it was slow and tentative, a submerging into numbness. Her flesh contracted and then promptly gave beneath her, falling lifeless beneath its weight.
