Post by Kolava on Jan 29, 2004 21:32:27 GMT -5
In the silence of the night, as Kolava lay pondering over a stack of forms with his mug of tea by the hearthside, there was another heave, another swirl in the fabric, another crack in the True--another spell. He set the mug down and looked out of the single window his room had been built with, wondering with an idle sigh what it could be this time. A conjured rose, to flirt with someone? Maybe a spell to move a footstool? The vague akasic nudge he had felt was too vague for him to identify it for sure, but he had little doubt that it was something trivial. He laughed to the empty room, sliding his mug away so he could lay flat on the carpet.
He didn't have any right to complain. It was their magic, to do with as they pleased. "As long as you can do it with magic, why bother doing it the hard way?" This was the common belief. He rarely mentioned the akasic feedback he received every time a spell was cast; no, that would just be whining. Whining about it wouldn't accomplish anything, and it wasn't as though he had it as bad as Cahliene. Either way, the lack of understanding on the difference between psionics and magic would likely have him branded a hypocrite and earn him a smirking at. Man was supposedly wiser then him, and supposedly held all of the answers. For all their claimed mental discipline, however, they sure could be a bunch of insensitive louts. They. He couldn't seem to escape this notion. No matter what life he lived, no matter how far he traveled, no matter how much he learned, there always was a "they." Perhaps, if only he could shake this "me vs. the world" mentality, he could be happy for once. Perhaps.
At this point, the Ghid chimed in, informing him of the same akasic pulse he'd already felt. The crystal was useful on most occasions, but for others, it was simply redundant. Many of its functions were intended for unskilled users, and clashed with the black market expansions the previous owner, Declano, had added to it. It was akin to having a souped up ten-speed racing bike with state of the art suspension, brakes, and...training wheels. Ridiculous.
Fed up with it, Nadir opened a telepathic channel to it and began resetting its notification functions. Kolava, left to his own devices in the other half of the mind, began to dwell on memories. Not recent ones, no, Nadir had helpfully taken responsibility over such things. Instead, he dwelled on distant memories, ones so glossed over by the years that he found it difficult to know which were real and which were imagined. He thought back to his childhood, back to the green grass of his birthplace. He thought of Mirabile, and how simple their lives were back then, back before everything had changed. Man had come one day, bringing with them all of their conventions and contrivances. Hate, want, sadness, corruption: all of the forces that drove Man's world.
He had wanted dearly to see what it was like away from his birthplace, away from the sheltered life of an animal. But now that he was there... reading forms and chugging tea to stay awake...had it really been worth it? He didn't know. Before he could dwell anymore on such painful thoughts, Nadir noticed and dropped the connection with the Ghid to console him. Kolava was grateful for Nadir. He loathed what Nadir was and what Nadir did, but was grateful that Nadir was there. Otherwise, he would be alone. Alone in a world without any way of finding Mirabile or fending off the darkness.
Nadir consoled relatively well, considering how cold it usually was. This was because it had the perfect motivation: Kolava's well-being was the only thing that mattered in its existence. Few humans could relate to this, since they were a species of perpetually confused mortals, always frustrated when their fleeting desires are not met. Nadir, on the other hand, was based on a single goal: reuniting Kolava and Mirabile. To succeed at this would be an achievement beyond the ability of words to describe; to fail would be as though it had never existed at all.
Kolava opened his eyes again, mental harmony having been restored somewhat. He tried very hard to become interested in the forms again, but it was to no avail. Bureaucracy was one of Man's deadliest contrivances of all; it could steal away your entire life without you even noticing. Sighing, he turned to the tea. Tea. Caffeine. He couldn't even trust his own body's sleep cycle anymore? Certainly Nature had hardwired him to need sleep for a reason, who was he to argue with that? Suddenly, nothing made sense. He drew the chain curtain across the fire for safety, then moved to exit his room, leaving his vest, Ghid, and gloves in a lump on a chair as he passed it. Down six flights of stairs and out of the crowded castle he padded. The Somnambulus, of course, remained around his neck; after all, he was going to be doing a lot thinking.
"Yes, sometimes, the best way to see everything," he said to himself as he smiled to the stars, already feeling the claustrophobia melt away, "is to get away from everything." The last thing he noticed before retreating into the isolation of the forest was another akasic pulse. Back in the castle, someone had summoned water to dump on someone else's head. If Man really did hold the answers, he certainly didn't act like it.
He didn't have any right to complain. It was their magic, to do with as they pleased. "As long as you can do it with magic, why bother doing it the hard way?" This was the common belief. He rarely mentioned the akasic feedback he received every time a spell was cast; no, that would just be whining. Whining about it wouldn't accomplish anything, and it wasn't as though he had it as bad as Cahliene. Either way, the lack of understanding on the difference between psionics and magic would likely have him branded a hypocrite and earn him a smirking at. Man was supposedly wiser then him, and supposedly held all of the answers. For all their claimed mental discipline, however, they sure could be a bunch of insensitive louts. They. He couldn't seem to escape this notion. No matter what life he lived, no matter how far he traveled, no matter how much he learned, there always was a "they." Perhaps, if only he could shake this "me vs. the world" mentality, he could be happy for once. Perhaps.
At this point, the Ghid chimed in, informing him of the same akasic pulse he'd already felt. The crystal was useful on most occasions, but for others, it was simply redundant. Many of its functions were intended for unskilled users, and clashed with the black market expansions the previous owner, Declano, had added to it. It was akin to having a souped up ten-speed racing bike with state of the art suspension, brakes, and...training wheels. Ridiculous.
Fed up with it, Nadir opened a telepathic channel to it and began resetting its notification functions. Kolava, left to his own devices in the other half of the mind, began to dwell on memories. Not recent ones, no, Nadir had helpfully taken responsibility over such things. Instead, he dwelled on distant memories, ones so glossed over by the years that he found it difficult to know which were real and which were imagined. He thought back to his childhood, back to the green grass of his birthplace. He thought of Mirabile, and how simple their lives were back then, back before everything had changed. Man had come one day, bringing with them all of their conventions and contrivances. Hate, want, sadness, corruption: all of the forces that drove Man's world.
He had wanted dearly to see what it was like away from his birthplace, away from the sheltered life of an animal. But now that he was there... reading forms and chugging tea to stay awake...had it really been worth it? He didn't know. Before he could dwell anymore on such painful thoughts, Nadir noticed and dropped the connection with the Ghid to console him. Kolava was grateful for Nadir. He loathed what Nadir was and what Nadir did, but was grateful that Nadir was there. Otherwise, he would be alone. Alone in a world without any way of finding Mirabile or fending off the darkness.
Nadir consoled relatively well, considering how cold it usually was. This was because it had the perfect motivation: Kolava's well-being was the only thing that mattered in its existence. Few humans could relate to this, since they were a species of perpetually confused mortals, always frustrated when their fleeting desires are not met. Nadir, on the other hand, was based on a single goal: reuniting Kolava and Mirabile. To succeed at this would be an achievement beyond the ability of words to describe; to fail would be as though it had never existed at all.
Kolava opened his eyes again, mental harmony having been restored somewhat. He tried very hard to become interested in the forms again, but it was to no avail. Bureaucracy was one of Man's deadliest contrivances of all; it could steal away your entire life without you even noticing. Sighing, he turned to the tea. Tea. Caffeine. He couldn't even trust his own body's sleep cycle anymore? Certainly Nature had hardwired him to need sleep for a reason, who was he to argue with that? Suddenly, nothing made sense. He drew the chain curtain across the fire for safety, then moved to exit his room, leaving his vest, Ghid, and gloves in a lump on a chair as he passed it. Down six flights of stairs and out of the crowded castle he padded. The Somnambulus, of course, remained around his neck; after all, he was going to be doing a lot thinking.
"Yes, sometimes, the best way to see everything," he said to himself as he smiled to the stars, already feeling the claustrophobia melt away, "is to get away from everything." The last thing he noticed before retreating into the isolation of the forest was another akasic pulse. Back in the castle, someone had summoned water to dump on someone else's head. If Man really did hold the answers, he certainly didn't act like it.
