Closed [The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Two denizens of the Sanctuary meet again.

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 10th, 2015, 3:55 am

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35th of Spring 515AV


Timothy strolled down the winding stairs at a leisurely pace. He didn’t often come down into The Within anymore, except for bathing. Until, in an determined mood, he’d gone out and met Mizra Aqdas at Riverfall’s training facility. The Akalak hadn’t spared him and he still felt stiff from the exercise.

It was only after he’d done his share of tasks at The Sanctuary that he would flee into The Within. The cool and quiet of the rocks provided shelter from sunlight and prying eyes. A place to collect his thoughts and work on his secret skills. One of those secret skills was physical exercise. During the training sessions after their first meeting, Mizra had made clear that Timothy’s wiry arms and ‘cushion’ stomach were ill-fitting of a warrior. Having paid close attention to the Akalak’s instruction, Timothy had come down into The Within’s training room with a pillow under his arm.

It would be a waste to soak his good clothes in sweat and so he had slipped into a slightly tattered, oversized sleeveless shirt and wrinkled knee-height pants. Only the Benshira bracelet dangling from his wrist was the same as always.

He lay down on the cool floor. The air was still clear. Soon, he knew, it would smell of sweat. Interlacing his fingers behind his head, he took a deep breath in preparation. He brought his knees closer to his body and lifted his head forward. The tension in his stomach was immediate but brief as he settled his head down.

One, he counted in his head. Laughing, Mizra had said, also trained the belly. There hadn’t been much too laugh at though. His lips rarely broke from the stern, straight line they were settled in. With his newfound determination to become as strong and resourceful as any Akalak boy his age had come an attitude of indifference and social reclusion. He knew the people at The Sanctuary meant well, but none could grant him the time of day. Deeming it too demanding to ask for attention, he simply did as they and spent swathes of time in his own company.

“-Seventeen, eighteen…” he murmured. It felt like his stomach was being kneaded like dough, only every time his chin pressed against his kneecaps, his belly tightened and the next sit-up would be doubly painful.

I have to make it to thirty, he kept reminding himself. Just a few more…
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Aoren on May 10th, 2015, 10:51 pm

The quiet of the Within Library encompassed Aoren. He sat writing quietly within his journal. The day’s toils were not what chronicled however, Aoren’s writings were directed toward a world beyond the mundane. He sat detailing the measures of protection he’d afforded the Sanctuary with the skills at his disposal. They were not numerous but they were the foundations that would make the home that Kavala had worked so hard for, that much of a safer place. Stone walls could be broken no matter how strong they were but it was Aoren’s hope that with what little he was able to do, they would be that much stronger. He dipped the tip of his quill pen into the inkwell that rested on the study table next to him.

The gates and walls of the Sanctuary have been fortified against fire. Should a flame ever spark within the complex, it will not spread to the integrity of the structure. The fortifications are woven in such a way that time shall not eat away at them as long as they are given strength when needed.

He considered the Shields that he had erected around the main gate of the Sanctuary and the exterior walls of the compound. His work was not yet complete but it was coming along nicely. The endeavor was giving him new direction in the way of his Shields. He was being forced to think creatively and in such a way that it did not impede with the daily workings of the Sanctuary’s business. He let the ink dry before closing the journal rising from the table. Placing his materials into his pack he shouldered it. He still had much work to do.

Leaving the library he made his way through the adjoining room, the kitchen and common room. As he passed through the sound of grunts and exertion caught his ear. Aoren paused his eyes coming to rest on the corridor leading to the training room. It was a place he spent a fair amount of time when not tending to the duties asked of him. Drawn by the sound of activity the Drykas man made his way through the corridor until he came to stand at the mouth of the training room entrance. He folded his arms over his chest observing the dark haired boy working fastidiously toward self-improvement.

Timothy Mered was not a boy that stood in high regard with Aoren. Their first meeting had been anything but a pleasant one. On one hand, Aoren understood that the boy was young. He was malleable but he was also a product of the life that he had lived just as every person was. If Aoren had the inclination to do so, he could have walked the halls of Timothy’s life just as easily as he drew breath. As it stood, he had little reason to do so. As it were, the boy hadn’t noticed Aoren so he simply let him work. The Seer understood what it was to be focused on the task of self-improvement. He focused on that task often. When it seemed that Timothy reached a struggling point however, Aoren spoke softly above the otherwise silent room.

Remember to breathe. If you cannot breathe, you cannot push through. If you do not push through, you do not get stronger.” Cobalt eyes observed Timothy with a somewhat cold distance to them.
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 11th, 2015, 12:18 am

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Hot air flared through his nostrils. Up and down, up and down he went until his abdomen felt like it had been set ablaze. Heat flushed his cheeks. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twe-

The sudden voice was like a splash of ice-water. Yet he persisted in his exercise. The voice, though he heeded its advice, could wait. He took a moment to breathe before pushing on again until he finally reached thirty. His head plonked down on the cotton cushion. “Pff,” he blew out of the corner of his mouth as he sat up. “You gave me quite a start-“

“...Aoren.” There was an undeniable gasp in his voice. Not merely one of surprise but also annoyance, as if he would have rather had another face greet him. Yet it was Aoren who stared at him with a calculative gaze. He recognized the strong Drykas immediately. The man’s strong, ripped build, the mark on his face. The only difference was the coolness in his eyes, as if he was all too happy to keep a few feet distance between them. Maybe he thinks I'll hit him in the nuts if he gets too close, he grinned to himself. Propping himself further upright, Timothy opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what to say next. “I was breathing,” he exhaled. “…just a tick.” He clutched his stomach with one hand and bit through the tight feeling. A measly twenty-four sit-ups and it felt as if someone had tightened a rope around his waist and yanked it.

When he had recovered a bit, he stood up to his full height and eyed Aoren with renewed curiosity. After their last meeting he would have thought the man would simply ignore him. It didn’t take a genius to realize how poorly they had gotten along. A wave of guilt crashed over him as he thought back to the vile things he’d said. Then again, so had Aoren.

He closed his eyes. Spring had sent a cleansing breeze through his mind. He no longer felt as angry or frustrated as before. Instead, he took pride in the initiatives he had taken. Nevertheless, he had to dig deep to find the strength to forgive Aoren for having called him a coward. His eyes snapped back open. Aoren was still there.

A slippery, sweaty hand was extended to the marked boar. “Sorry about last time. I shouldn’t have said what I did and-“ a tiny shrug of his shoulders followed. “Well, I feel better now, less…upset. You’re a friend of Kavala and any friend of hers is a friend of mine. I am sorry if I offended you.”

A small smile would tug his lips should Aoren accept the apology and shake hands. If not, Timothy’s hand would simply fall to his side and a darkness would flit over his face.

“I was training,” he explained. Any silence between them was uncomfortable, and so he sought to fill it with words. “My mentor says I need to become stronger. I am learning how to fight.” A pause. A light shiver crawled down his spine. For all he knew Aoren had been observing him from the start. It made him feel uneasy. “So what are you doing down here?”
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Aoren on May 11th, 2015, 12:58 am

To Timothy’s comment on being frightened, Aoren said nothing. A slow blink of his eyes was the only response the boy received. To his apology, Aoren pushed himself upright off of the wall. He strode forward accepting the hand giving it a shake.

Winter was a strange season. From what I gather there are many people who did things that were not in their nature to normally do.” It was not an apology on Aoren’s part. He stood by what he thought of Tim’s actions during their brief sparring match. He released the boy’s hand taking a look around the training room. At Timothy’s words the echo of a memory danced across Aoren’s mind. He hummed softly in answer before speaking, clasping his hands behind his back.

A friend from a long time ago shared similar words with me.” He wondered if Timothy would take them to heart in the same manner that he had. From what he’d experienced with the lad from their previous encounter, he couldn’t say with all confidence that he believed he would. Aoren strove to understand. He lived to protect. The words that had been exchanged between the both of them last time lead him to believe that Timothy wanted the strength to fight his enemies for reasons that Aoren did not agree with.

I was in the library studying. I was on my way to continue some of my work but I heard someone training. It would seem that someone is you.” He angled his body away from Timothy taking a few steps in the opposite direction.

I would ask the same of you but you’ve already answered that question. Instead I might ask, why do you train alone? Why not find one of the others in the Sanctuary to train with you?” Keen eyes noticed the shiver. The Drykas didn’t feel very cold but he supposed that after exerting oneself and being covered in sweat, it might feel chilly as the sweat dried. Out of the palm of one of his hands he extruded a small portion of res. He formed a sphere with it dividing the orb into three layers.

Tilting his head in Timothy’s direction he flicked his thoughts and with them the sphere drifted upwards. It hovered around coming to rest in the space between the two of them. Aoren’s res, once a deep azure blue, had begun to take on a lighter hue in recent times. The Seer blinked and the outer most layer of the res was ignited burning a royal blue before calming to the normal orange of common fires. The layers between the magical fire and the untransmuted res would keep it burning for a few minutes. It was only a moment or two before warmth began to spread outward from the conjured flames.
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 11th, 2015, 1:47 am

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One was either happy or relieved, but now he was both at the same time. Aoren’s handshake was a firm, confident one. There was little to add to Aoren’s comment about the previous season. Funnily enough, it was only now that the haze over his mind had lifted that Timothy uncovered he hadn’t been the only victim. I am glad it’s over, he thought to himself.

Aoren, again, increased the space between them. It puzzled him greatly and he worried he had said something rude. Why else would such a tall, confident man walk away from him? He’d been exercising for a little while now, but he doubted he was that intimidating.

Timothy’s eyes darted up and to the side. The answer to Aoren’s question immediately rose to the forefront of his mind. But could he trust the Drykas? A simple handshake and a few polite words weren’t quite enough to be sure if Aoren could keep a secret. Then again, it wasn’t really that much of a secret. At the end of the day no one could really stop him from doing what he did. He wouldn’t let them. Settling his eyes on the studious healer again, he started to explain in a lowered voice. It was important Aoren understood he was being let in on something special. Something not everyone knew. Perhaps then the man would give an approving nod.

“It’s because of…it’s because of Hirem. Well, not just Hirem. Everyone’s sort of petting me. They think I am like ten or something,” he wrinkled his face in disgust. “I mean, do I really look like ten to you?” He sighed deeply before he continued. “It’s always one or the other. Either adults don’t have time or they’re lecturing me about what I can and can’t do. It’s annoying. I just know Hirem wouldn’t approve.” He began to pace now, arms gesturing ever more widly after each passing tick. “I don’t need their approval, and I don’t want to stay here forever. It’s a nice place, but it’s not home and the longer I stay here, the less comfortable it feels. Even in the city, it’s like the Akalak don’t want me and I don’t have any friends here anyway.”

Tearing himself from his thoughts he looked back up, only to find an orb of blue-turning-orange fire hovering near his cooling body. For a tick he simply enjoyed the warmth. Then his jaw dropped. Carefully, he moved his hand closer to the orb. It was real fire. Wide-eyed, he shot an almost pleading look at Aoren. “How did you do that? Is it magic? Does it ever run out? Can you make it bigger?” A thousand questions raced through his mind. No, a million. All else was forgotten as he stared into the licking flames, nimble hands wrapping around the fire as if he wanted to snatch it out of the air.
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Aoren on May 19th, 2015, 6:11 pm

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Yes. You do look ten.” Aoren had to resist the urge to smirk. There was a slight inclination in his tone implying that he was making a joke. It could have easily been missed if one wasn’t paying attention. Beyond that however, Aoren listened. It was perhaps one of the things he was best at. The majority of people tended to forget that he was around in some fashion or another. He didn’t quite mind that. It gave him the freedom to spend time with the people he cared to. It also allowed him to move about as he wished tending to tasks at his own pace as the days went by. He was a diligent worker but large numbers of people agitated him.

Sometimes finding one’s place in the world means finding that you’re out of place in one part of it.” Aoren knew that lesson well. As a boy he’d grown up under the scrutiny of everyone who felt uncomfortable around him. He’d known things. He’d seen secrets that had been shared. He’d stood witness to parts of people’s lives that were private. It had brought him much pain through the years. The Seer extended a hand calling the fire back to him. The orb drifted back to his outstretched palm hovering above it. He considered Timothy for a moment as the boy posed his questions.

It is magic. Perhaps the one I am most familiar with. The fire will burn for as long as I can sustain it.” He laughed softly. “Which is quite a while.

Instead of answering Timothy’s question regarding the orb’s size with words, Aoren demonstrated. He drew upon his djed once more pushing more res outward to add to the size of the fireball floating in his hand. It flared blue for a moment bulging outward to the size of a coconut before returning to the normal orange hue. He could see curiosity written all over Timothy’s face. It almost surprised him that the boy hadn’t witnessed reimancy before. Aoren knew that several residents of the Sanctuary were practitioners of the elemental discipline. It begged the question of whether or not Timothy was familiar with magic at all. He supposed he’d been a little careless in his impulse but it was obvious that the lad had been cold. The Healer in Aoren had seen the discomfort and sought to alleviate it.

This particular style of magic is called Reimancy. With it the wizard can manipulate the four base elements of the world.” Aoren divided the fireball in front of him folding his arms over his chest. Four smaller spheres were created each one still burning. With a nod of his head Aoren transmuted three of the spheres into the other elements. The flames around the first sphere whispered out of existence as it became more solid, less whimsical. In a matter of seconds a sphere of dark soil floated in its place.

Earth.” He turned to one of the other spheres. This one became more wavy as the fires died only to be replaced by a ball of water.

Water.” The last sphere became hushed as a small breeze picked up around it. The glow of the fire died as the inner core of the sphere was revealed. The air remained unseen but its presence could be felt.

Air and of course Fire.” Aoren regarded the elemental spheres that drifted lazily between the two of them. It was a demonstration that he’d done before.

Initiates claim familiarity with a single element. Adepts with two. Savants with three elements. Masters can command all four.” It went without saying that Aoren was quite obviously a Master. There were still a variety of elemental combinations that he’d yet to attempt but he had a firm grasp on several para-elements. He quirked his head at Timothy.

Is this the first time you’ve ever seen magic up close?

.
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 20th, 2015, 1:13 am

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“Well, I am not ten,” Timothy huffed as he crossed his arms. “I literally just told you. I mean, look at my muscles.” A grin split Timothy’s face as he flexed his arms. “Have you seen a ten year old with my muscles eh?” Perhaps if he squinted his eyes the Drykas healer could spot a bulge in the boy’s arms. Though he’d taken to become stronger, Timothy was well aware he still had a long way to go. But that didn’t deter him. “Huh, you’re just jealous,” he blew his hair from his forehead. For just a flash, the whitened Radacke brand stamped thereon revealed itself, then it got hidden by unruly hair again.

Training his gaze on the orb again, Timothy cocked his head, soaking up every little detail Aoren cared to spill into his ears. His first answer confused him. Something about being out of place. But as the words sank in, he realized Aoren was probably right. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. After all, if he didn’t know what home did not feel like, he would never discover what it did feel like. The thought ran a few circles in his head before he stuffed it away in a corner.

Something between a gasp and a shiver escaped him when Aoren split the orb into four, altering each until the four elements were represented. Kavala had shown him magic before, she had manipulated the earth, but he had never known water, air, and fire could be altered too.

Timothy bit his dry, cracked lips. He could still taste the salt from exercise on them. “So you’re pretty good then?” he shuffled past each orb, eyeing each from various angles to ensure it wasn’t just some deception. “Or are you the best there is?” After Aoren had answered, Timothy would continue:

“Kavala showed me some of this before, I think she called it Reimancy too. She said she’d built all of The Sanctuary that way.” He laughed. “She’s kidding right?”

He stopped in front of the water orb. There was something immensely appealing about it. It reminded him of gently lapping waves, or water springs. He wasn’t the best of swimmers, nor was he a sailor, but the cool blue of the water caught his eye more than any other element. Shuffling closer, Timothy reached out and into the water orb. His arm flinched involuntarily at the gentle water’s cool touch. A smile curled his lips as he remembered what Aoren had done just moments before. Keeping his hand in the water, he dipped his chin into a nod.

Nothing happened.

Light brows furrowed. He nodded again at the water, willing it to become sand with every inch of his being.

Still nothing.

Squinting his eyes, he tried again and nodded even more firmly at the glistening orb. Why wasn’t it working? He’d seen Aoren give nods. If the tall blonde could do it, so could he! Even Kavala had said magic was everywhere, and he had uncovered Aoren’s secret spell hadn’t he?

Eventually he surrendered and pulled his now freezing hand from the water. “Why isn’t it working?” Grass green eyes interrogated Aoren for an answer, his voice was almost pleading. “I did exactly as you did, but it doesn’t work.”

A hint of a pout wrinkled his features, as if he’d been given some broken toy and wanted daddy to repair it for him. “Can you-“ Another shiver shot through his frame. He was far from cold though. The tingling sensation crawling down his spine making his hairs stand on end came as he realized how powerful, how truly powerful the man before him was. Aoren, who he had called a coward could set him ablaze, drown him, choke him, blast him through the air with a snap of his fingers. He felt humbled to be in the presence of the Drykas and, for the very first time, a shyness washed over him.

Rubbing his left ankle with the other foot, he struggled to piece together a sentence. It was as if he’d been presented with his childhood hero in the flesh. “Can you please, please teach me?” he breathed, hands clasped as if in prayer. “I’ll do anything. Anything you say…”
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Aoren on May 20th, 2015, 2:12 am

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Aoren could only smirk as Timothy protested his observation. He did not miss the brief flash of white beneath the line of his hair. It was not a matter that was his place to intrude upon however. Everyone had their secrets. While there were times that Aoren could not help but catching a glimpse at some of them, he tended to leave people to them. In time, secrets came to light. It was a lesson that he’d learned long ago. One merely needed to be patient enough to wait.

I am simply myself.” Aoren was beginning to see a pattern in Timothy’s train of thought. It was not surprising. It was a simple line to follow. One was either not good enough or they were at the top of the mountain. It was a note of concern for a boy so young to view the world so harshly. He nodded in response to Timothy’s question about the Sanctuary.

I don’t doubt that she did. Kavala is a very gifted woman.” He watched as Timothy became fixated with the manifestations of power drifting through the air in front of him. Aoren made no move to stop the boy as he touched a hand to the ball of water. He studied Timothy’s movements carefully. One eyebrow arched as the boy presumably attempted to give a mental command to the elements before him.

The power to wield the elements is a gift that must be given. To be specific, a skilled Reimancer must unlock the power within you. Only then will you be able to master it.” At Timothy’s pleading that eyebrow arched a little further upwards. Waving his hand over the four spheres, Aoren drew what remained of the untransmuted res back into himself. The fire became a dying ember that faded. The earth crumpled to the ground. The wind dissipated and the water fell to the floor.

You are many things, Timothy Mered.” Aoren drew upon his gift of Insight. Within moments the boy’s aura glowed before him. With it came a deeper look at what the boy was feeling as well as traces of who he was. As he looked deeper, Aoren voiced what he saw resting in the folds of the outer most layer of Timothy’s soul.

You are determined. There is an undying strength inside of you. A firm and unbending courage that has the potential to be great. I can see it.” Aoren reached forward touching his right index finger to the boy’s chest. “Here.

Aoren looked deeper. Beyond the curiosity, the unyielding determination, and grounded sense of endurance Aoren perceived in Timothy’s aura he saw something more. He saw something darker.

But there is also rage. There is a hate that has taken hold of you. It burns in the depths of your soul, consuming all that might be great and replacing it with a charred husk. Where this hate goes it leaves nothing but darkness in its wake.” The Seer folded his arms over his chest.

Why should I give a boy who is consumed with rage and hate, who cares nothing for honor or mercy, who seeks to kill, that power? Why, when that boy will one day grow into a man?

.
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Timothy Mered on May 21st, 2015, 1:57 am

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His chest swelled with pride as Aoren spoke. Determined, brave, strong. Every word was like the sounding of trumpets, filling his lungs with confidence. It might as well have been Yahal himself who’d come down to praise him. But then Aoren began to speak of darker things. Smoldering fury, restlessly glowing in the pit of his soul. Whatever pride he’d tasted before now turned to ash on his tongue.

Astounded he retreated a pace. Once again that monster called betrayal gnawed at his mind. With just a few words, Aoren had exposed him, reflected exactly what he’d tried to hide. He’d never though himself a killer, nor merciless. But it was easy to think of the people he wished to squeeze the life out of. First and foremost was Harley, the man who’d vowed to protect him only to sell him to slavers. Second was Marshal Sitai, the Kenash Dynast delighted in earning money off selling people. Third was Jed Radacke, his former master. Adelaide Sitai, that monster, deserved to feel pain too.

He narrowed his eyes to mere slits. One part of his mind considered challenging Aoren, demanding to know how it was that he knew about his desire for revenge. Once or twice he had mentioned his hate of slavers, had Aoren merely heard? Was the healer just assuming things? Had it just been a lucky guess? No. It hardly could be. The man was a master at magic. This, Timothy concluded, was just another one of his tricks.

Then he remembered the conversation he’d had with Kavala, shortly after Hirem had brought him to the Sanctuary. She had presented him with a dagger, shown him how sharp it was and how easily it could kill. But then she had gone on to say what else it could do. That same dagger could be used to cut a man free, to slice a pie, to whittle a figure.

“I don’t need that power to kill someone, Aoren.” Bright emerald eyes bore straight into Aoren, perhaps hoping to unlock some of the man’s secrets in retaliation. A boy of ten would never possess the maturity of voice Timothy spoke with, and he was all too eager to testify that he wasn’t just a boy. “Your magic is just a tool. Tools can be used both ways. You warmed me with that orb of fire.”

He bit his lower lip. Aoren clearly didn’t want to teach him yet, but neither had the man flat out denied him. There was hope still. Making demands and fighting back had brought him little good last time and he suspected the results would be the same know. Instead, since Aoren had already unraveled so much about him, he decided to be brutally honest.

“Do you know what this is?” He stepped forward, brushed the dark-blonde strands from his forehead and pointed at the maimed skin. “It’s the Radacke brand. Jed Radacke bought me in Kenash, he gave me that brand, then he decided he didn’t like me anymore and sold me again.” The hate that had previously been so well hidden now came to the forefront of his features as he flared his nostrils.

“Do you know how many slaves work the plantations there every day? Do you know how little food and water they get? What if I had been there and had been able to give them water and warmth, or ease their work by using earth-magic? I wanted to help them, but I couldn't...”

This time, Timothy was the one who stabbed Aoren with his finger. “There are people I want to hurt, but I will do that anyway, whether you teach me reimancy or not. You can’t stop me. You haven’t seen the floggings, you haven’t seen how the Dynasts there tore two Rujaro apart. You have all this power, but you’re too afraid to use it.” Coward, he added mentally.

He paused for a moment, trying to see if Aoren would be swayed. “I want to help people Aoren…I want so badly to help but no one’s letting me. That makes me angry. It's as if no one trusts me...I am not stupid you know, I can tell you don't trust me."
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[The Sanctuary] The Mage and His Pupil (Aoren)

Postby Aoren on May 23rd, 2015, 3:52 am

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Aoren sighed heavily shaking his head. He looked the part of a weary man trying to reach through a wall of stone for all it was worth. The tall Drykas ran a hand over his face pinching the bridge of his nose, massaging there as if to stave off a headache.

No one is trying to stop you from doing anything, Timothy. The only person who has placed that limit on you is yourself. You have all of these dreams. But how are you going to achieve them? Have you considered that?” The Seer took hold of the hand that Timothy had stabbed at him. Aoren knelt, his grasp gentle but firm.

These hands.” He reached out again pressing a finger to the boy’s chest directly over his heart. “The strength you have in here. These are the only tools you need. Believe in them and you can weather the storms that are ahead of you.” Aoren released Timothy resting his hands over his knees.

You want me to trust you? I trust that you have it within you to be something great. You tell me that there are people you want to hurt, that you are going to hurt. You assume I would get in the way of that? No. You have your reasons.” He had no doubt that the anger Timothy felt in his heart was justified. Aoren did not know what it was like to live the life of a battered slave. At least not personally. He had met freed slaves before. When he was younger he had even protected someone close to him from nearly becoming one. He had earned the favor of his goddess by defending another from such a fate as well.

I do not question the reason why you feel the way you do. What I question is your ability to see beyond the pain, the suffering, and the hate that burns within you. The only person who can answer that is you.” The Seer gestured toward the ceiling.

The gods above watch all of us. For one reason or another. Many of them can’t be bothered to insert themselves into our daily lives. Some of them do so by giving us the tools to better things by ourselves.” Aoren stood back up, the opalescent sheen of Rak’keli’s gnosis across the right side of his face caught the light from the corners of the training room.

What I know though, is that no matter the designs of men or gods, your life is in your own hands. You ask for great power. Do you understand the burden that power brings?” Aoren turned on his heel summoning his djed facing one of the training dummies. Res flowed out of the tips of his fingers in five streams of jagged power. With a flick of his thoughts he transmuted them to both air and fire that blended together creating bolts of lightning. The twisting spears of electrified power slammed into the training dummy. The wood exploded showering the corner with splinters that burned with the intense heat of Aoren’s sorcery. Closing his eyes, Aoren drew in a deep breath. He clenched his hand into a fist turning back to Timothy. He spoke and as he did he stepped toward the boy.

With a wave of my hand, I have reduced dozens to ash. I have taken life. Have you?” He opened his eyes meeting Timothy’s gaze with a hard stare.

Every life I have taken, is a life gone that has stained my soul. Are you prepared for that weight? Can your shoulders bear that burden with strength and clarity?” Gesturing once more, Aoren conjured a sphere of water that he moved toward the small fires that burned in what remained of the training dummy. He doused them with a motion of his hand. He would have to buy a replacement for Kavala. She would undoubtedly be none too pleased about the breaking of her property thus he would have to apologize to her.

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Aoren
Of things long forgotten...
 
Posts: 1267
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Joined roleplay: August 27th, 2012, 4:26 am
Location: Endrykas
Race: Human, Drykas
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