Solo A New Task

[Keene Ward]

The forty-third day of fall, 514 AV

Keene's eyes had seemed to blink and the night had given way to morning. Though his bed was much more comfortable than anything he'd had before, it wasn't a miracle worker. His legs were stiff and sore from all the walking he had done over the past couple days. His feet felt as if his arches had been carved out, leaving behind a raw, almost numbing feeling. As he stared up into the semi-darkness of his chamber, he scratched at his chest, wincing as the movement irritated a bruise from his fall the night before. For a moment, he thought about going back to sleep, hiding from the pain as he'd done for almost a season's worth of time prior, but it passed quickly. He had made the decision to become an initiate of the Wardens, and with that decision he had also chosen to follow his master's rules. The very first had been to water the tree she'd had him plant every morning. Failure to do so was nothing more than sheer laziness on his part, and he had not been raised to succumb to something as pathetic as that.

Carefully sitting up, Keene swung his legs over the edge of his bed, slapping his feet onto the smooth, warm floor of obsidian. He took a few moments to adjust to the tightness of his muscles before pushing himself to stand on his own strength. He wobbled, but he was mobile, ambling over to his clothes that were neatly folded in a corner of the room and getting dressed. The process was more difficult than it typically was, thus it took him about eight chimes to fully clothe himself. The sandals took another three with him taking small breaks to ease off the strain of his legs. Strapping his refilled water flask to his belt, Keene made sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Once ready for the day, he grabbed a handful of raisins - taking another handful of almonds and stuffing them into his pocket - and tossed them into his mouth, munching on the dried fruit as he hobbled down the tunnel, he followed the glimmering flicker of the candlelight that bounced off of the shine of the interior of the caverns. As he rounded the last corner to gaze into the wide, open chamber where the table, chairs, and sandpit resided, Atziri looked up from whatever it was she had been doing at the firepit, rising to stand and beckon him over.

"Sleep well, Initiate?" Her grin and devilish glint in her eye gave Keene the impression she knew very well how his nights were going. Giving her a curt nod, Atziri seemed content to continue. "What do you know about reimancy, Keene?" The vagueness of the question kept him quiet. When she did not elaborate beyond and expectant raise of her brow, Keene attempted a reply.

"It's a volatile magic." Atziri nodded, but gave no indication he should stop. "It allows the user influence over the elements." Another nod. "And I am not sure what you want me to say about it."

Shaking her head, Atziri held out her hand, a perfect ball of reddish res floating above her palm. "What is this?"

Blinking, Keene replied with a flat, "Res."

"True, but is that all it is?"

Keene took a few moments to reply. He stared at the sphere intently, his frown a telltale sign of his concentration. It was res. It was a reimancer's manifestation of djed. It was the lifeblood of reimancy. All the answers he could think of were the same in some way, linked. His eyes moved from the res to Atziri's face, but she gave him no clues, only the firm, steady gaze of her ember-like eyes. He wondered at a more philosophical answer. Perhaps she desired a simile, as res was like the manifestation of will. Perhaps a metaphor, res was change, an unnatural shift in the laws of what was and what wasn't. His gaze changed into a glare the more he considered possible alternatives and interpretations. There was little he supposed res couldn't do. It could become any element, take any shape. It was... "Res is potential." The words softly fell from his lips before he had a chance to truly think about what he was saying. Atziri's lips curled, the ball of res bursting into a whirlwind of flames before hissing out into a small line of smoke.

"The only limits that constrict a reimancer are those one places on oneself." She let her hand return to its place at her side. The conversation shifted to his duties, the previous exercise seemingly ended. "After you water your tree, you're to go out and collect firewood." Keene nodded, the task simple enough. He wasn't much for wielding axes, but the concept of chopping at something until it fell down seemed linear enough for even him to accomplish in spite of his meager physical strength. "I expect you to gather enough wood for a fire every two days. It's warm enough we don't need it, but when we get meat, I prefer it cooked." She smiled at her joke, though Keene remained straight faced, nodding that he too preferred things cooked over raw when it came to the flesh of dead animals. "Well then, you should get going." She turned towards the tunnel that led to her chamber, pausing and looking over her shoulder. "And Keene?" The young man raised a brow at the fiery headed woman. "The wilderness is wild for a reason. Don't forget that."

He watched her disappear into the darkness, the sound of her boots hitting the rock with a firm tap that ricocheted off the walls and faded with distance. As he picked up the candle and headed out towards the entrance of the cave, Keene pondered his master's words. There had been a lesson, he was sure, but she was cryptic in a straightforward manner that not only confused him but intrigued him as well. Mella had been quick to the point. If he had done something displeasing or incorrect, she instantly corrected it or pointed out a fatal flaw. Atziri, however, seemed to give him free reign with thoughts, actions, and everything in between. It seemed like everything she offered him - knowledge, assistance, tasks, and more - was a test of his abilities. The godsawful climb was certainly a trial, though he wondered if she knew just how much of one it was for him. Judging from the way she smiled at him whenever she asked about his personal health, Keene had the itching feeling she knew exactly how difficult his life had become in the past few days. He did not, however, find himself regretting his decision.

Atziri expected things from him; things that were far greater than he could have expected from himself. He had little doubt that his time spent under her tutelage would prove to be fruitful, though what sort of fruit he couldn't say. Mella had been harsh, avid, practical. Atziri was different in so many ways that the comparison was to disjointed for him to put anything of real merit together. He was on a path of his own choosing, a path forged by the feet of strangers before him. Where it led, he could only guess. What lie in store for him, however, was much more clear. He had chosen a winding trail rife with struggle, pain, and tests he wasn't entirely sure he could pass. To say he was setting himself up for failure seemed an understatement so gross he couldn't bring himself to think the words. Yet, in spite of the general feeling of foreboding, there was an excitement that continued to draw him forward. His life was changing. He was changing. And by the time he drew his last breath, taking his last look around the world he'd been born into, he had no doubt he would be a stranger to his current self.

[Keene Ward]

With soreness permeating his entire body, Keene found the trip to the tree to be similarly laborious to his very first experience with the mountain. While he had learned the proper and most effective path to his destination, it did little to increase the speed at which he shuffled along. While having removed the string to keep the "v" of his shirt in check, the heat of the morning combined with that of the aura of the mountain the landscape seemed to command, he had already begun to sweat. It had become such a common occurrence, however, Keene took little notice of it. His sandaled feet crunched against the ground with each step he took, carefully avoiding areas where his exposed toes might find themselves wounded against jagged rocks or uneven rises. As his breath began to come heavy, Keene kept his eyes focused ahead of him, maintaining his pace. It was slow, but it was steady, and Keene had found that speed was only useful when it could be properly utilized. He had strength enough to sprint up a single straight portion of the path before succumbing to fatigue and having to crawl the rest of the way, strength that could be evenly distributed throughout the climb to get him to his destination in the same - or maybe even less - amount of time.

Reaching the plateau, Keene paused as he stared up at the small jump required for him to pull himself up and over. He leaned against the rocky wall, taking a conservative swig of the water from his pouch. After several chimes, his breathing had calmed enough for him to feel more inclined towards climbing. Strapping the leather flask to his hip, Keene attempted the jump. Having only engaged his legs in a half-hearted manner, his fingers just missed the lip of the edge before he landed back on his feet with a small grunt. Gazing sterning at the edge, Keene bent his knees once more, winding up before launching himself up into the air. His fingers gripped onto the ground above successfully. Wiggling from one side to the other, Keene was eventually able to find the proper footholds in order to give him the leverage to hoist himself over the edge. Rolling over onto his back and away from the danger of teetering off of the edge, Keene stared up into the overcast sky. He could just make out the position of the sun hiding behind a break in the clouds, and he saluted her by drawing his hand up to shield from her rays.

It was astonishing how little the island's temperatures changed. He supposed it was due in part to the nearly constant cloud cover creating a greenhouse like effect. Laying still for a few more chimes to allow his body some much deserved rest, Keene turned his head to stare a the sapling. The buds on the end of the stick had started to grow larger, or perhaps it was just his prostrate perspective. Either way, he counted it as progress; which meant he was getting somewhere with all of the watering he'd been doing. While he understood it probably would have been just as effective to water the tree with just his flask, Keene had been given an explicit directive, one he felt had little reason not to be followed. By creating and maintaining the cloud, even over the past two days, Keene had a much better understanding of how to multi-task both the elemental attraction properties of res as well as the production.

Rolling to his stomach, Keene pushed himself first to his knees, then his feet. His grimace firmly set upon his features as he felt both his calves and hamstrings shout out their displeasure. Limping over to the tree, Keene decided against returning to a seated position. Though it ushered in a sweet partial release from the strain of his muscles, it made moving afterwards all the more difficult. Gazing down at the tiny sapling, Keene popped off his flask's lid. Exhaling a fine mist of res, Keene pushed it forward with a gentle sweep of his left hand. The other thing he'd noticed after having cast the same spell for the past two days was the res seemed to know where to go with just the smallest of gesture. He watched at it began to swirl around the top of the sapling, preparing itself to draw upon the water of the environment. Using his right hand, Keene gently pushed his arm forward, willing the res to pull water from its surroundings and suspend it into the air above. Again, the thin strands of liquid snaked their way out of the mouth of the flask, twisting into the cloud of res before disappearing from sight.

Once the cloud had formed and rain began to fall, Keene let the spell run its course. He'd found that the water did not need to be dispersed in increments, rather he could saturate the air immediately for a showering sort of effect. It cut the time he had to spend maintaining the res - which in turn cut down the res needed to perform the spell - as well as creating a steady deluge rather than the spotty drops he had created the days before. The swirling cloud slowly dissipated as the water tumbled from its grey interior to become one with ground, soaking the earth to feed the twig of a tree. Atziri's words came to him then, their volume softer and distant in the realm of his mind. He created the limits to his magic. Keene did not take that lesson to mean he should do whatever he wanted with his res however he wanted to, though the thought had crossed his mind. Instead, he considered what limits he had placed upon himself as he stared down at the wetted earth, the slight imbalance caused by creating res giving him a light rush to his head.

Hit biggest limit - and he believed it to be the most important - was how much res he could produce. Theoretically, he could create a massive storm enough to cover the entire mountain. He had the capability and the djed to do so, but the chances of him surviving such a feat were slim to none. He had given himself a limit to ensure that it would require a conscious decision to do something as drastic and dangerous as that. The particular restriction was one born out of concern for his own personal safety and well-being. Turning his thoughts towards other limitations, he considered how he utilized his reimancy. Having been told repeatedly that his elements were typically weaker when it came to combat, Keene had focused upon both the defensive and the tactfully innovative solutions to combat that problem. He had put a cap on the extent of training in strength of spell and instead had focused on the most efficient and effective form he could cast. Frowning, Keene was certain there was more to be learned, but without anything more to go off of, he drew a blank. He had altered the cloud spell to the point where he felt it as effective as it could be given the amount of time and effort spent upon it. He wondered if, perhaps, there was meant to more to the watering using magic than just the watering itself and the experience gained through it.

Saving the thought for a later date, he turned to stare at the detestable edge of the plateau that led back down to the cave's entrance. His legs had been rested little, yet he still had the firewood to collect. His frown deepened as he thought about his next task. He had not been given an axe. As he approached the edge of the ledge, Keene eased himself down, stumbling as he hit the ground but remaining standing - to his pleasure. Starting down the path, the lack of tool with which to cut trees concerned him. He didn't dwell upon it too much, as the path still required his full attention. The sliding, slippery slopes and the sections that threatened to crumble away were both of the utmost concern to him until he reached the final ledge before the cave's miniature plateau. Hopping over the edge, Keene's legs decided they were tired of holding up his body and buckled beneath him, leaving him in a groaning clump of flesh, sweat, and dust. Pushing himself into a seated position with his back against the wall, Keene started down at the trees that were situated at a lower altitude. While their branches were umbrellaed with a blanket of teeny yellowish leafs, the trees themselves seemed as though they were choppable.

Staring down at his hands, however, Keene found his lack of chopping equipment of slight concern. Again, Atziri's lesson replayed in his mind's eye, and Keene frowned. If she intended him to chop wood with his magic, he supposed it was possible. Ice, however sharp, didn't strike him as the most effective axe substitute. However, Keene found there was little reason to place a limit on what his magic could do. Most of his limits revolved around specific things it should do or no do. As Atziri had suggested, the possibilities of res were endless. Rising to a haggard stance, Keene stared down the next leg of his journey. The sooner he got the wood, the sooner he would have a chance to perhaps lie down and stop moving for a good while.

[Keene Ward]

Keene stopped at the first tree he came to, having slid half of the way. As he gazed up at the bunches of leafs some twice the distance he stood tall, he was surprised to see thorns that covered the entire surface of the bark. They were sizable, which made them a tad bit less menacing. Instead, it gave the tree a curious sort of aura, as if it were some strange thing pulled from a children's storybook world. Keene's eyes evaluated the force needed to free the trunk from it roots. The overall width of the tree was fairly slim: only several sizes larger than his own forearm. Having never cut a tree much beyond stabbing the much more impressive Zeltivan oaks and elms, Keene wasn't sure how much the tenacity of the fiber factored in when compared to the seemingly simple width. Deciding there was little else to do but attempt a cut, Keene took a few steps back to ponder his course of action.

The first thing to come to his mind was to create an axe made of ice, however it was quickly dismissed before it could gain much ground as he quickly realized the issues of continual impact on an object made from frozen water. The axe head, however, was a potential solution. If he kept his res at the back of an icy blade, it was possible to imitate the chopping of an axe by pure will manipulation. Determining that it couldn't hurt to try, Keene calmed his breathing. The process took several chimes as he still hadn't quite recovered from the trip down from where his tree was planted before starting off down the rest of the mountain. Once he felt more in control of his respiration, Keene twisted his djed into res, letting it drip from his fingers into a growing blob between both hands. Once it had reached about the width of a cross sectional cut of the tree, he stopped his res production. It floated unobtrusively, the surface wobbling. Frowning, Keene rotated its hands around it slightly, smoothing out the liquid until it glowed with the proper bluish polish.

Flicking his hands outward and away from each other, one end of the sphere fanned out into a shape reminiscent of the blade of an axe. With that done, Keene felt a chill rush from his finger tips to his elbows as he transmuted the blade into an elegant slope of ice. Pulling the ice to about the middle of the remaining circle of res, he kept the blade floating by the attraction of the untransmuted remainder. Turning to face his arboreal adversary, Keene drew his fingers towards his chest, pulling the blade closer to him and turning so that it faced head on with the trunk. With a sharp inhale, Keene fanned out his hands and thrust forward, the ice shooting towards the tree and colliding with a heavy thwack. The leafs above shoot with the impact, and the axe stayed lodged in the cut it had made. Drawing the res back, Keene found the ice had adhered itself to the wood quite effectively as it remained even after his res called to it. He attempted to pull the ice from the tree with will for about a chime more before he let the faint, bluish liquid seep back into his palms. A perplexed frown evaluating his next course of action.

The ice seemed perfectly content to stay, having cut about a quarter of the way through. While it was hot enough for the ice to have already started melting (as Keene had not thought to drop the temperature too far beyond freezing), creating a new axe every chop was incredibly inefficient, lengthy, and would prove to tire him out faster than if he physically chopped down several trees with nothing but his own strength. Walking up to the ice, he fiddled with the back of it, tugging at it a few times. He wasn't surprised when it didn't come lose. The heat only worked so fast, and his res's elemental attraction properties were much stronger than anything he could do with his own hands. Deciding to use the time before the axe melted enough to fall out to think of alternative approaches, Keene considered possibilities. He could create a massive gust of wind in the hope that the roots were shallow enough it would simply pull the whole thing out of the ground, but he doubted he had the res for it. That, and the tree seemed rather ingrained in its soil, having only shaken from the point of impact upwards with the initial strike.

The amount of water needed to erode the ground was far more than he could generate as well. Mist would do little but give the already humid atmosphere a little bit more water to do with as it pleased. Ice seemed to have been the only solution, but merely striking at the tree with the finicky material had proven partially effective, but the cost of the benefit was a bit high. Running hand through his disheveled hair, Keene let out a short sigh of frustration, though his face held the same contemplative frown it usually did. As if on cue, the axe slipped from the tree, hitting the ground and sliding farther down the slope. With the amount of melting that had taken place, it was far to brittle to be used again. Shaking his head, Keene crossed his arms as he stared at the wound the ice had left. An idea sparked in his mind as he considered what use he could make of the dent.

Approaching the tree, Keene carefully started to break off the thorns around the area, clearing them away from the upper part of the cut about five inches up. Once that was done, he took a step back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. With a small grunt, Keene pulled his right foot through, shoving it at the trunk above the cut he'd made. The resulting force felt as though it bounced back at him, knocking him off of his already precarious balance and onto his back, sending the wind rushing from his lungs. Blinking back his body's natural inclination towards tears, Keene dazedly raised his head to stare at his formidable enemy. The strike had done little, though he could see a slight crack on either side of where the axe had landed. Deciding force of strength wasn't going to be a viable approach, Keene eased himself back to his feet. The uneven ground had connected with his left shoulder in such a way that he could already feel the bruising. Gingerly rolling his shoulder to force himself to become a bit more accustomed to the added pain over his already sore person, Keene decided he'd give ice another try.

Having created small cracks for him to ease his res into, Keene placed his hands on either side of the cut, sending small amounts of res into either side. When the tendrils were in place, Keene froze them with a snap of his fingers, stinging from the chill. There was a small crack as the tear in the tree's fibers crept inwards. Progress. He pushed his face close to inspect his work. The expansion of the ice had worked as a sort of leverage, pushing the fracture deeper into the wood. Pulling several more strands from his fingertips, Keene pushed the res into the newly created gaps. Once more, he transmuted the res, this time with a pantomimed gesture as the chill of his finger tips had begun to get uncomfortable. Another crack, this one a deeper, creaking sound than before. Continuing on by filling the new cracks with liquid res and transmuting that, it took him several chimes before the creaking of the tree got to the point were it began to waver back and fourth. Backing up, holding his hands to his lips to warm them up with the added head of his breath, Keene gazed warily at the thorny tree as it slowly stopped its sway.

Inspecting his work, Keene had manage to worm strands of ice through about three quarters of the trunk. With most of the ice still in place, the tree still stood pretty steady, but the swaying had been caused by some of the older ice slipping out to leave a gap. Returning to his initial placement in front of the tree, Keene readied a small handful of res. He could feel himself approaching his limit, but a single well placed burst of pressurized wind would be enough to fell the tree. Spinning his wrist to twirl the ball of res, Keene let it compact as it whirled. With a flick, he sent it shooting towards the now reasonably flimsy trunk. With a clap that elicited a slight flinch from the sensation of his chilled digits forceful impact, ball erupted into a blast of wind, smashing into the tree with a loud crack. The impact was enough to set the tree splintering downwards, the ice sliding out from within it as it landed with a bushy thump onto the angled ground below.

[Keene Ward]

The tree was still partially connected to it's stump, but it was splintered enough Keene figured he could cop through it with one more icy. Hobbling over to the tree he stared down at it, realizing two important things. He had no way to get the tree back without dragging it up to the cave (a feat beyond his current capabilities) and while he had managed to mostly sever the tree from it's base, it was still a whole tree. Firewood implied that it would be copped into manageable pieces. Staring down at the mess of branches and spines, Keene crossed his arms, keeping his fingers close to the warmth of his body. The blast of air had left him feeling a bit light headed, so he waited for the feeling to subside some before doing anything about the tree. It passed after a few chimes, and Keene was able to better take in the situation at hand.

He didn't have enough prepared djed to cut up the whole tree at that point, but he supposed he could at least cut one or two to bring back, seeing as that would be able all he could carry. Staring at the the point were the tree was still connected, Keene drew a palmful of res, holding his hand over the splintered bridge. With a thrust, he sent the slice of res down, snapping his left fingers to flash freeze liquid as it slashed into the wood, severing it and slamming into the ground below. Seeing that the blade was still intact, Keene stooped down to pick it up, grimacing at the strain on his body. With the ice in hand, Keene moved to about the spot he figured would make a good length of firewood. Letting some res seep from his fingertips, he coated the back of the blade enough to hold it aloft in the air. Raising his hand up, the ice followed. And he shoved his hand back down towards the tree, the ice dropped with force, slamming into the bark with a snap. The ice shattered, but it had left a sizable dent in the bark.

As the actual res required for splitting the tree from that point was a relatively small amount, Keene knelt down onto the ground, keeping himself steady by placing his hands on either side of him to compensate for the slope. Once stabilized, he held a hand out over the incision, letting some res drip into the small cracks. Pushing the res in deeper to the wood than he'd done at first, he found that there were small spaces throughout the tree's wood that he could fill with minuscule pockets of the faintly bluish liquid. With the proper spaces filled, Keene snapped, freezing the res and sending the familiar chill through his body. The telltale cracking sound sent several fissures though the wood. Just as before, Keene followed them with his res, freezing them as he so until the wood was eventually separated. Keene continued on to the next cut, slicing into it with a shard of ice and proceeding to split it with the expansion of the quick forming solid.

He made it about halfway through the third cut before he felt the shift in his djed, the tell tale feeling that he was pushing his limit. Glowering down at the unfinished work, Keene stuck his hands under his armpits, feeling both relief from the chill to his body and the heat to his hands. Very carefully, Keene curled his toes to kick at the spikes, knocking them off from the spot he intended to stomp on. It hadn't worked very well before, but having pushed his res into the teeny pockets in the wood, he thought it might have affected the tree's structural integrity. Stamping his foot down several times on the flexible wood, Keene quickly learned that he had not affected its structure enough to snap it. If anything, he had had no effect on it at all. Resigning himself to a single piece of wood, Keene picked it up, taking care to hold it by the area he'd cleared the spikes from. It was a measly collection, but he supposed he'd make up for it the next day. There was also the issue of nothing to carry the wood with, something he'd inquire about once he made it back to the cave.

Turning to gaze up at the sky, the light had begun to fade into the golden pinks of the evening. Having only walked about a half bell's distance, he was confident he'd make it back to the cave before nightfall. Glancing back at the fallen tree, Keene graced it with a final frown before heading back up the hill. He had failed for the day, but he'd learned something as well. There were more ways to fell a tree than hacking at it. This meant - while he lacked the res to test it - that his other elements were perhaps able to more easily cut that which ice seemed to struggle with. How exactly, however, he wasn't sure. With the small log in hand, Keene struggled his way back up the mountain. While he was intent on bettering himself, Mella's lesson's were still ingrained in his body. Sleep and rest were important if he wanted to continue with his suddenly active lifestyle. The soreness of his body seemed as though it was ingrained into every aspect of his djed, but Keene was tentatively confident that that too would fade with time and rest. Hoping the latter would help ease it quicker, Keene looked forward to getting a chance to catch his breath.

The thought to find and axe and finish the job crossed his mind, and he decided if he could find one within the cave, he would finish gathering the wood. When he arrived at the deserted cavern and couldn't find a single tool in both his room and the main chamber, Keene decided to retire for an early night, falling onto his bed and shutting his eyes. It took only a few chimes for him to drift into unconsciousness.

[Ink]

Fate has dictated the conclusion to your journey...

...And now, only Fortune awaits you.

I am Ink, Mistress of Sahova; and it is my pleasure to award you with this bounty of XP and Lore. If you have any questions regarding this Grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. Fret not, I tend not to smite...often.

 

Keene

XP

• logic 1
• observation 1
• climbing 1
• acrobatics 1
• Bodybuilding 1
• gardening 1
• reimancy 3
• meditation 1
• wilderness survival 1
• endurance 1

LORES

• Wardens: A Hard Path
• Atziri: More Aware Than She Seems
• Reimancing: Attracting Elements
• A Mage’s Greatest Limitation is himself

With Regards,
Ink