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Eosi discovers a peculiar denizen of the Sanctuary

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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 Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Xira Hezmek on March 22nd, 2016, 10:48 pm

5th of Spring 516

Something was different. Xira could not quite figure out what it was exactly or when exactly he noticed it. It was something to do with his magic, he knew that much but not much more then that was clear to him. Today was a training day for the young courier, he was attempting to expand his repertoire of stone forms. From the geology field guide he was borrowing from Valkala Library, there were many types of stone that he could try and mimic with Reimancy.

So Xira set up shop in the training room Within the Sanctuary. With a small side table that he stole from the common room as a lectern and a target for... target practice. He was in good business. Xira noticed that when he did not focus and merely meant to conjure stone from res, it created this black crystal. This likely had to do with his personality, though it begged the question, why would his personality translate into a crystal? He would just have to set that question aside for the time being.

There being three types of stone, one must learn to gauge these types accurately if the aspiring geologist aught to gain their dreams. Igneous, Metamorphic and Sedimentary. All made from the many types of minerals. Granite is the most common stone and is considered to be of basic type, though its variations are subject to regional differences.

Its characteristics are as follow ...


The book went on to list the basic characteristics of Granite in all its fine details. The trick was for the magician to figure out how to copy these details. When a mage went about creating stone, they did not tend to have the scientific details of a stone in mind. For reimancy was an art, not an a science. So creating something specific was a fight against one's own self.

Xira closed his eyes and reached into himself to draw forth djed from his core of stone. With chips of djed in hand he formed beads of res from his fingertips. Here was the strangeness again. There was an... interference of some sort between himself and his magic. A slick coating of oil over his stone core and pulling djed from his core covered his mind in this metaphysical oil. He did not understand, this was not here before.

But... nothing was different in the actual process of performing magic. He pushed his thoughts into the res and let the stone take shape in his palm. A lump of stone. The book detailed the stone's density, the variations in color, it claimed that grains of stone were easily visible and the size it might be. His conjured stone was... not far off from that. The weight of it was a bit off and the grains were a bit too... ordered, to much like a crystal or some sort of mica. But it was progress.

Xira looked up and blinked, hearing something. "Hello?" He peered myopically about in the dim, underground training room. "Is anyone there?
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The Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Eosi on April 8th, 2016, 4:59 am

Image

As she made her way to the main sea cave, one hand trailed along the jagged stone, feeling the walls that once only existed in memory. Years ago she’d ventured down this way, once with her lover and now on her own, though she could hardly be called alone anymore.

In spite of her general distaste for people, time had taught her that she was not a creature of solitude. The need for like-minded individuals drove her half-mad. For all the years she’d spent in Riverfall, it was only recently that she’d made any friends whatsoever, most notably Kavala. The vestiges of a smile crept over her features as she made her way to her room. In their limited exposure to one another, they’d formed a significant connection. It brought her here, even in spite of the memories she’d once associated with the place.

Her measured footsteps echoed throughout the corridor. Dirt was caked on her cheeks and tiny bits of hay were still stuck in her tangle of auburn hair. But she was happy, as evidenced from her cheerful smile and the flush in her cheeks. The sun had been kind to her on that day as she mucked out the stalls. To Eosi, there was no such thing as menial labor so long as that labor had a specific intent. Supporting to the Sanctuary was an act of pride. It was her way of showing respect.

The light danced across the somewhat uneven surface of the rock, casting shapes along the narrow corridor. Eosi smiled and ducked into what was now her room, in order to hastily scrub the dirt from her skin and make it to the training room. She was clad in a loose, champagne-colored blouse and hide trousers. Over her pants were her only pair of boots, though these too were covered in dirt and hay. Breathlessly, she grabbed a washcloth out of the basin and wiped down her person as best she could before again sweeping out the door, eager to practice her reimancy for the first time in months.

In her haste, it hadn't even occurred to her that someone else might have the same idea. Further, while she’d seen some of the other members of the Sanctuary at supper time, she hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually introduce herself. Eosi was a notorious busybody, always up and helping wherever she could. The voice reached her just as she crossed the threshold. She slowed to a halt, eyes adjusting in the dim light.

”Yes,” she answered. It was hard to tell, but from the sound of his voice, she could only assume it was a man that spoke. ”My apologies,” she added, feeling her initial reply to be insufficient. ”I did not mean to intrude. Do you mind if I come in?”

Assuming he assented, she entered the training room in earnest. This was a person she recognized, although she had not yet learned his name. He had a rich complexion and dark, closely cropped hair that seemed exotic in a way she couldn’t place. The urge to ask about it was strong but she stayed the course. Better to ask his name first, among other things.

”I'm Eosi,” she offered, stepping into the light. There wasn’t much of it, but enough to work by. At one time she’d been in that room with another man, but it had been with Leo. There still was pain in the moments where she thought of him but after three long years, she’d finally begun to work through it. Their reunion helped with that too, to a degree.

She brushed a stray hair over her shoulder, taking a step closer.

”I’ve come to practice my art,” she said, uncertain as to his purpose. ”though you may have a similar idea. It's good to meet you,” she said, attempting to engage in conversation. Maybe she could try and make an acquaintance. "I believe I've seen you at dinner, a few times."

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The Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Xira Hezmek on April 11th, 2016, 7:03 am

My words

Really, he ought to use more then a single candle to light the room. It would have made such an encounter easier. Not that his eyesight was particularly bad, but shadows did persist with such a mild light source. Besides, his eyesight might take a turn for the worse if he did this more then he should. Xira smiled at the sound of the feminine voice, a mask for the unknown."Please, it is no bother." He realized that he held up a stone, like some savage. He quickly drew forth his res and encapsulated the stone in it before he gave a quick mental thought. In a few moments the stone melted away into a fine sand that mingled with the existing sand of the training room as it feel from his palm.

He cuffed his palms together to shake loose the grains of sand from his palms as he came forward. "Hello Eosi. My name is Xira." He offered his hand in a Syliran greeting, though perhaps a handshake was more common then that. His lips split into another grin. He would be truthful he decided, even if it might be rude on some level, "I apologize, the I do not recognize the face. People come and go from the Sanctuary so often that the two years that I've stayed here, they've become a bit of a blur. Truly it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, m'lady."

The courier then gave a slight bow, "If I might ask, what would your art be? The men of the city certainly turn combat into a martial dance," He gave a quick appraising look of the woman before him, nothing too intrusive though, "But perhaps that is not why you are here." The courier's expression brightened as the thought struck him, "Are you a practitioner of some sort of magic?"

Xira's relationship with magic had always been... interesting. The poor man was obsessed with it. He always pushed his current understanding of magic and sought new disciplines to pursue. And... surprisingly he took well to the lessons. Surprisingly quick to his teachers. Perhaps Kavala was right, his past life sang through him when it came to magic. It did not make him any more skilled at it, or quicker to gain power, it seemed to merely presented something to become passionate about.

Thus the prospect of another magician was exciting. Others of his kind usually had so much to teach each other. Dangerous, as it was.

Xira generally wasn't a bashful fellow, but if this woman was particularly observant, she might notice that his posture, the slight fidgeting with of his hands and arms, spoke of a nervous shyness that was altogether unusual to the typically upbeat and confident demeanor of the courier. Magic was rare, and so few that he met knew of any sort of magic. It was like meeting someone who might have similar interests, but might also have an unknown personality. Now she just needed to let him know that she did not know magic and she in fact hated the unnatural art for the courier to grow beet red and feel the fool.

Finding something for his hands to do, he took a few steps backwards, tripped over the chair. Luckily he caught himself before taking a tumble, his face turning red. His hands finally found the stack of books he had set up and cleared them away into a neat pile. "If you would like a seat, please feel free." He said as he offered this newcomer his chair.
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The Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Eosi on April 12th, 2016, 4:16 am

Image

His voice was as deep as it was gentle. In his hand he held an object, which he shot an anxious glance before quickly dissolving it into sand, the likes of which slipped through his fingers and onto the floor as he clapped his palms together. Eosi’s brow raised in interest. It was difficult to see what he’d done, as he was half eclipsed in shadow. But unmistakably, this was the working of some kind of magic. Though which sort was for the moment, impossible to say.

”Well met, Xira.” She replied, admiring the name. It was poetic but short, much like her own. As he strode forward to shake her hand, she moved to meet him. Handshakes were a stout greeting, which said a lot about a person. Eosi gripped his hand firmly and decisively, economical as ever with her movements. She looked at him unflinchingly in the eyes with a small smile, her expression warm but perhaps with some reservation.

As they disengaged, he elaborated with a grin. Eosi appreciated his flawless politeness, among other things. There was something about Xira that ingratiated him to her very much, some combination of his manners and forthright attitude. She offered him a grin in return.

There is no need for apology,” she responded congenially. ”I am very often back and forth in this place and I haven't been here very long.”

Of course, the inevitable questions came. Such was the nature of a first meeting. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, shifting her weight.

”They do indeed,” she assented. Rivarians had a remarkable talent in turning a fight into a kind of dance. He offered her a short bow. Such formalities were not wasted on Eosi, even if she did not go to such great lengths on her own. The implications of a man’s actions spoke volumes about the man, whether he knew it or not.

He reasoned aloud, thoughts skipping from one theory to the next. She thought him clever to determine so much with so little information. Was it the lack of a weapon that gave her away? After all, they were in a training room. Certainly, she had reason to be there outside of seeking his company. Of course, it was possible he suspected this too. He kept fidgeting, for reasons that she did not yet understand.

Rather than a verbal acknowledgement, she elected to perhaps shed some insight on her character whilst answering his question. Eosi raised a hand with her palm upturned and began to focus, her eyes becoming distant. A thin line of Res threaded from her palm in plume of orange, crimson and gold. It took a few moments, but were he to have the patience, he’d watch as she drew the gaseous substance into an imperfect little sphere.

As ever, it felt as if someone were tugging at the loom of her soul, seeking to unravel her one thread at a time.

Once the ball was no larger than a miza, she ceased the activity. With an arch look, her thoughts turned to explosion, upheaval and fire, forcing the Res to comply. It erupted in a generous flame, casting a gentle glow upon her auburn hair and fair skin for just half a chime, before it inevitably faded away.

’That ought to suffice,’ she thought with some amusement. The sentiment could be read in her face.

There were a few things about him that she continued to note, certain mannerisms that betrayed a quiet agitation, though whether or was excitement or nerves was difficult to say. The stumbling, for one. He cleared his books as he gestured to the chair, offering her a seat. Conversely, Eosi was confident and sinous as a cat. She obliged him with a grateful nod.

”Reimancy,” she offered, attributing words to her earlier display. ”It is a new discipline to me. I have much to learn in the production of res, as well as the different forms.”

Now it was his turn, she decided. Crossing her ankles, she tilted her head to the side, eyes questioning. There was a twist to her lips that spoke of a light spirit. She wondered: What was his reason for being here?

”What you did earlier, with the sand. What was that? What kind of magic?” She learned forward, resting her chin upon the back of her right hand.

”If so, please. Will you show me?” Eosi did her best to mind her manners. Though it was easy to miss at a glance, Xira might note the hidden intensity in her question. Her eyes burned with curiosity, even though she sat very still.

”One good turn deserves another, after all.” She added with a theatrical grin.
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The Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Xira Hezmek on April 14th, 2016, 10:09 am

The tension in his shoulders, in he nervous movement of his hands eased the more he spent time with this woman. There was.. something in her posture, how she dictated her words and action that seemed to spark a kindred of spirits. Like a flint that sparks a flame. But then, that could merely be jumping to conclusions.

As she drew closer to the candlelight, Xira got a better look at her. Just as she likely got a better look at him. She was decidedly neither the ethereal beauty of an ethafel nor merely handsome, but instead pretty. He would even say very pretty. It was her hair, though, that left the greatest impression upon him. She seemed to have been maned by fire itself, a particular shade that seemed to dance with her movements, seeming matte or a burnished copper depending on how the light played across her features. Yes, he decided, she was pretty and likely about the same age as himself. Interesting.

In answer to his question, rather then a great flurry of eloquent words she demonstrated what she intended to practice. The mageling's eyes went wide and his lips spread wide in an open grin, though he held just a tiny bit back, excited to show the mirror of her magic. He clapped his hands together once, "Ah, beautiful! A fire Reimancer." He separated his palms and brought one hand to his chin, considering, "They say that the element that you are first attracted to says something about the inner you." He gave her an encouraging look, "Though I am not going to try and divine anything for you, haha. Even still, fire is energy and passion, light and movement. It could be that you might crave it that in your life, or that it embodies parts of your personality. Maybe something to ask or consider yourself." His eyes lingered on her hair, the irony not lost on him.

He gave a sly smile as she turned he question around on him. Xira closed his eyes and sought his core, that pillar of stone. Still it seemed covered in a slick... something. With a metaphysical strike he brought out a few chips of djed, each having a bit of that original sliminess. He drew it through his hands and with a slight flourish he brought forth a few globules of his own violet colored res. Having thought of flint he figured on attempting to make a fine simulacrum of the stone. He moved his hands through the air and plucked a conjured stone from the air, his lumpy, globule of res manifested into a lumpy, glob of what could be flint. He smiled, and offered the stone to his companion, more then pleased with his timing. If he had converted his res to stone too soon, it would have dropped to the floor, if he had done so too late, the stone would have formed around his fingers and then he would have been in a fine predicament.

"What I had done before was merely an extension of this. I too am a Reimancer, new to the art. But stone called to me first." He drew forth yet more res, a small, perfect sphere of violet res that he allowed to float before the two of them. "What is solid can also be made into fine sand, and so i could in the reverse." He then decided to try something that he hadn't tried before. He used his ball of res to attract stone. At first gave a very weak pull, like he would if he was working with the void, and used more djed to increase the attraction of his sphere. At their feet the sand began to shift, and in a thin stream it drew into the sphere. "You can even use the magic to bring the stone to yourself." He gave her yet another smile, knowing full well that the gift he gave her would have tried to jump out of her hands if she let it. "Though, I understand it works with all elements. Be it" He gestured to Eosi, "Fire, or water or even the air itself."

He then gestured to the floating sphere and covered it with a palm to hide it from eosi's view. At the same time he drew the grains of sand and willed them to become ordered, to become solid and in a moment, the djed was spent and he caught the resulting black crystal from the air. "Whoops, almost dropped it that time. Maybe I shouldn't show off, haha." He set thedark crystal on the table, the grains of it all set in one direction.

"So Eosi, you came to practice Reimancy. Perhaps we could practice together?" He gestured to the candle. "Why not try what I just did? Pull the flame off the candle and into your reimancy. You will find that it is much less draining to attract fire then it is to make it from scratch."
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Xira Hezmek
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The Story of the Flame and the Stone.

Postby Aladari Coolwater on June 26th, 2017, 5:00 am

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Your grades have been spotted!
________

Xira Hezmek

■ Reimancy +3
■ Observation +1
■ Geology +1
■ Logic +1
■ Teaching +1
■ Socialization +2

    Lores
Lore of Geology: Igneous, Metamorphic, and Sedimentary Rocks
Lore of Geology: Characteristics of Granite
Lore of Reimancy: Conjuring Different Types of Stone
Lore of Self: Djed is Naturally Violet
Lore of Reimancy: Attracting Elements is Easier than Creating
Lore of Reimancy: Sand is Stone Too

    Additional Information
None.

________

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