79th of Summer 518 A.V. 10th Bell
Descending into the basement of the Midnight Gem was always an experience that Kynier enjoyed. Something about receding into the ground, and the darkness it held, had an appeal. Especially in a place he was glad to call home. This time was different. While there were several shadows, including Zavath, that dwelled in the darkness of the basement, Kynier felt as though something else was watching him. Kelski’s words about the Midnight Gem and architectrix echoed in his mind. The structure was coming to life. His mage senses told him that there was an increase of djed at the Midnight Gem. The walls, floor, and ceiling permeated the substance, giving the hairs on his arms a constant reason to stand on edge.
He lit a torch to hang off the sconce that rested on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. While he did not need it to see he found it made the other inhabitants more comfortable when they came down into the light. Kynier could understand why walking in on a mage practicing his art in utter darkness would be uncomfortable. He had considered doing some physical training today. The wound at this side had finished healing over, leaving a line as wide as a dagger as a scar in his skin. It didn’t bother his vanity. While he had a few other scars from daggers, he didn’t bare any imperfections that other reimancers had. If he stared closely at his palms he thought he could see where it was Bourin had cut him for the initiation. It was something Kynier had grown thankful for during the summer season.
But he had been exercising his magic more. While it hadn’t even been fifteen days Kynier had noticed an improvement in his abilities. Conjuring res was requiring less effort. Creating rifts to the void took less time. His shields were becoming more consistent in their durability and shape. Overall, it was an addictive feeling to have a sense of some competence in multiple disciplines. Yet there was always more to learn. While Kynier sometimes felt the need to fully devote himself to the arcane disciplines, recent discoveries only helped reinforce his satisfaction in not doing so.
For a moment he walked around the basement. What exactly he was going to do was something he had not yet decided. And it wasn’t until he looked at the dummy target for throwing weapons that he felt an inspiration arise. He walked over to the dummy and looked it over. With a couple of fingers he pushed it to test the sturdiness. It seemed pretty solid on its base. Yes, that would be it. Kynier closed his eyes and rested his hands on the target’s makeshift shoulders.
In the stillness of the basement he sought to mimic that with his thoughts. Still, and silent. The shadows watched and kept their voices low. The soft chattering of the Makath tongue was just quiet enough to not disturb the mage as he sought an inner tranquility. He needed his djed to be still and malleable when he reached for it. Lungs filled with the cool air of the underground and set his body at ease. When his will dug down to the core of his soul Kynier found the djed readily available in the condition he needed it in. Power flushed out of his being and to the surface of his hands. Kynier’s fingers traced over the surface of the wooden target, weaving a shield over its surface. But it wasn’t quite complete. Still holding the power and the weave, Kynier raised a hand into the air and transmuted some of his djed into res. A tiny trace of translucent material formed in his palm. Come.
A single tongue of flame drifted from the torch to his hand. The res ignited into a small fire, one that Kynier held out towards the target. He willed it to join the weave to protect the target from what he intended. While he could afford to replace it, he’d rather not develop the habit. The shield accepted the small dollop of fire for its tasking. After fifteen chimes the shield was complete and offered a small glimmer to the wood’s surface.
Kynier turned and walked to the twenty foot indicator on the floor. There, he faced the target, eyes focused on the chipped surface of the non-descript head. With an exhale he reached for his djed. The stream of power still flowed close to the surface of his soul and was easily coaxed back to the surface of his physical body. More res formed in his hand, this time in a gaseous state that hovered just above his fingers. Kynier’s eyes were fixed on the head of his imaginary foe as he thrust his hand out, palm forward with a thought accompanying the motion. Ignite!
Res propelled from his hand and burst into flames that condensed into a ball. It soared over the twenty foot gap and struck the target on the left shoulder. Flames splashed around the wood and the shield flared to life. Turquoise light enveloped the target as the shield actively forbade the mage fire to bring harm to the object.
Kynier sucked on his teeth in thought. Only on two occasions had he utilized reimancy in combat. Both times it had been very close distance. Now he was appreciative of the Daggerhand folly to press in so close. Otherwise his fire would not have been as lethal, given his current performance. After a chime the flames pressing against the shield died. The weave protecting the target faded from view, but Kynier knew it was still there. As he set his stance wide in preparation for another round of reimancy he heard the door at the top of the stairs open and close. Kynier relaxed his body and waited to see who was coming down.
A young girl that appeared to be around the age of eight climbed down the stairs. She was wearing a simple child’s dress and had her dark hair in a braid. While Kynier had never said it himself, the girls face had been described as cute with the round cheeks and large eyes. Ember had her red ball and was bouncing it on each step on her way down. At the bottom of the stairs she grabbed it with both hands and smiled at him. “Hello Kynier,” she said happily before sitting on the bottom step.
Word Count: 1,078
Boxcode credit goes to Nellie!
