3 Summer, 518 A.V.
Had it been really been weeks since Farris had taken the opportunity to practice his craft? In truth, the young man found it rather alarming, for in his practice he found the only reminders of his previous life. Unlike Sunberth, magic was the truest representation of home, in a way neither his adopted city nor even his previous home of Ravok could ever be. Years had passed since Farris' father had passed, "No, he was murdered," he corrected. Anger welled within his senses, a feeling that was dissipated far more slowly than he'd have liked. Often, it didn't do to become agitated before seeking to grip at the djed within one's soul. However, at other times, the agitation served as fuel to the literal flames that he spurred into being. A deep breath cast into the mage's mouth as he exited his home. Sunberth was littered with abandoned buildings and, perhaps if he was fortunate, he'd find one spacious enough to accommodate his efforts.
Contrary to expectation, Farris didn't take long to find a building that he could temporarily claim for his own. He was careful to let his gaze cast about in a measure to prevent him from being followed. He'd turned several corners and made paths down the dusty streets of the city before assuring himself that he was fine. "Calm down," he'd say to himself, letting his breath turn steady. It was no joke, the measure of anxiety he felt when he sought to practice. Sunberth had repeatedly proven itself to be a city that hated mages, and he wasn't about to find himself in the crosshairs for a simple case of lax security. Farris made himself scale two flights of stairs, settling himself on the third floor of a rather rickety looking building. "It'll do," he assured himself as he stood in the center of the room.
Once the mage was ready, he'd let a deep breath pull into his lungs. His arms did not move from their relaxed position at his sides. Rather, he reached inward. He'd pull djed from the depths of his soul, moulding it and subsequently guiding it to his fingertips, where it was quickly converted to Res. Res permeated upon the digits, tracing the vivid scars that existed upon his flesh. As he moulded the Res, he pushed further still. He could expedite the process, speed up the conversion of djed into Res, but he'd keep his pace slow, intent not on rushing himself.
The Res at his fingertips fell into his palm. From there, he'd begin the process of converting the Res into Air. Wind gathered at his fingertips, seeking to be freed and set forth as a force of nature. But, he held that in, as well. He began to implement his final step. The air threatening to burst forth was charged, an unborn flame crackling in the center of his hands. Electricity began to visibly gather in the circle of Res between his hands. He moulded the remaining Res into shape before, at last, he released entirely. A thin bolt of lightning arced from his fingertips and charged forward. Faster than he could blink, move, or even think, the bolt had dissipated. A hole existed in the wall where the bolt had existed for but a moment, and the Reimancer could feel nothing but pride for the accomplishment. By no means was he surprised at the magnitude, but rather, the ease. He'd be sure to document what he felt during the exercise, but he was by no means finished just yet. There was so much more to do, and all of the time in the world to continue sharpening his efforts.
Contrary to expectation, Farris didn't take long to find a building that he could temporarily claim for his own. He was careful to let his gaze cast about in a measure to prevent him from being followed. He'd turned several corners and made paths down the dusty streets of the city before assuring himself that he was fine. "Calm down," he'd say to himself, letting his breath turn steady. It was no joke, the measure of anxiety he felt when he sought to practice. Sunberth had repeatedly proven itself to be a city that hated mages, and he wasn't about to find himself in the crosshairs for a simple case of lax security. Farris made himself scale two flights of stairs, settling himself on the third floor of a rather rickety looking building. "It'll do," he assured himself as he stood in the center of the room.
Once the mage was ready, he'd let a deep breath pull into his lungs. His arms did not move from their relaxed position at his sides. Rather, he reached inward. He'd pull djed from the depths of his soul, moulding it and subsequently guiding it to his fingertips, where it was quickly converted to Res. Res permeated upon the digits, tracing the vivid scars that existed upon his flesh. As he moulded the Res, he pushed further still. He could expedite the process, speed up the conversion of djed into Res, but he'd keep his pace slow, intent not on rushing himself.
The Res at his fingertips fell into his palm. From there, he'd begin the process of converting the Res into Air. Wind gathered at his fingertips, seeking to be freed and set forth as a force of nature. But, he held that in, as well. He began to implement his final step. The air threatening to burst forth was charged, an unborn flame crackling in the center of his hands. Electricity began to visibly gather in the circle of Res between his hands. He moulded the remaining Res into shape before, at last, he released entirely. A thin bolt of lightning arced from his fingertips and charged forward. Faster than he could blink, move, or even think, the bolt had dissipated. A hole existed in the wall where the bolt had existed for but a moment, and the Reimancer could feel nothing but pride for the accomplishment. By no means was he surprised at the magnitude, but rather, the ease. He'd be sure to document what he felt during the exercise, but he was by no means finished just yet. There was so much more to do, and all of the time in the world to continue sharpening his efforts.
