One can always find the light within the darkness. Look hard enough, and you will make a path for the unsuspecting. All that matters is how far you are willing to go to reach it; there is a higher height for every peak, from the mountain of books to streams of sweat pouring down his body. Blood rushed to his head as he continued to hold himself upright, defying gravity by sheer force of will. Fingers throbbed as the soreness and aching became more apparent as Kilam finished his physical workout. Lowering himself down, he placed both feet on either side of his hand along the edge of the stacked stones.
They were oddly balanced edge against edge, their flat ends did not touch the floor, and yet the stacked pillar did not sway. Light poured in from a singular hole over his head. Despite the shadows blocking his view of the area around, he knew there was nothing there. It was a pit his father and mother had made for him since his accident. A place to utilize his newfound skills and test his theories with his new arm. Overhead, a cumulus cloud of shroud and elemental magic crackled. Spheres of metal and shroud stones hovered with joints and rings sparking from the empty socket on his left side.
Standing tall, Kilam dismounted the stacked stones, landing upon the balls of his feet in a crouch. Cutting off the shroud energy, the gold and black arm swiftly pieced itself back together. Every metallic piece has runes etched into it, helping reduce the drain of shroud energy when Weaving. Clicking into place, the runes changed color as the shroud stones found their place at the elbow, shoulder, and wrist. Flexing his left hand, the stone in the wrist cracked before splintering into dust. The runes turned from green to red, and the limb itself fell useless against his side. Seeing white spots, warm liquid began to pour from his left nostril, staining the white robes. Stumbling a few steps, Kilam dropped to one knee, letting his body regulate.
"Dammit.. Not again.. There has to be a better way to maintain this arm and still weave." Mumbling to himself, he slowly pinched his nose and blew, spraying the last bit of blood out of his nose. Staggering upright, Kilam turned to face the shadows, making out the door, he began walking towards the door frame. Flames ignited around the pit, illuminated decorated walls, and lavish statues of his kindred of old. Taking his tunic, Kilam tore it into a sling using his teeth to help tie the limb up against his chest. Ignoring the bloodstains, it was a normal appearance for Kilam at this point. Hardheaded but tenacious nonetheless in his venture to discover new things.
Yet here he was, the troublemaker of the Karandas family. While being a Seeker in reputation, there was no shortage of trouble in his wake when dealing in the shadows. Traveling the long halls and crystal elevators, Kilam soon found himself at the core of Miraj'Dah. Home of the brightest engineers and crystal makers. The ones who maintained this city's flowing abilities. Silent was his approach as he passed the guards at the door, gesturing to his arm, they paid him little heed. Kilam's visits to the Crystal Engineers were a normal ordeal since his return from the ground. Peaking left and right, he had yet to find someone to help him actually improve the limb, but someone else in the Seeker's section told him of Palesa. One of their brightest and most inquisitive mind had found an interest in his condition.
Now if only he could find her. Sauntering down the halls, Kilam kept out of the way. Sitting mostly in the shadows with a blood-stained, ripped tunic.
@Palesa Kamau
They were oddly balanced edge against edge, their flat ends did not touch the floor, and yet the stacked pillar did not sway. Light poured in from a singular hole over his head. Despite the shadows blocking his view of the area around, he knew there was nothing there. It was a pit his father and mother had made for him since his accident. A place to utilize his newfound skills and test his theories with his new arm. Overhead, a cumulus cloud of shroud and elemental magic crackled. Spheres of metal and shroud stones hovered with joints and rings sparking from the empty socket on his left side.
Standing tall, Kilam dismounted the stacked stones, landing upon the balls of his feet in a crouch. Cutting off the shroud energy, the gold and black arm swiftly pieced itself back together. Every metallic piece has runes etched into it, helping reduce the drain of shroud energy when Weaving. Clicking into place, the runes changed color as the shroud stones found their place at the elbow, shoulder, and wrist. Flexing his left hand, the stone in the wrist cracked before splintering into dust. The runes turned from green to red, and the limb itself fell useless against his side. Seeing white spots, warm liquid began to pour from his left nostril, staining the white robes. Stumbling a few steps, Kilam dropped to one knee, letting his body regulate.
"Dammit.. Not again.. There has to be a better way to maintain this arm and still weave." Mumbling to himself, he slowly pinched his nose and blew, spraying the last bit of blood out of his nose. Staggering upright, Kilam turned to face the shadows, making out the door, he began walking towards the door frame. Flames ignited around the pit, illuminated decorated walls, and lavish statues of his kindred of old. Taking his tunic, Kilam tore it into a sling using his teeth to help tie the limb up against his chest. Ignoring the bloodstains, it was a normal appearance for Kilam at this point. Hardheaded but tenacious nonetheless in his venture to discover new things.
Yet here he was, the troublemaker of the Karandas family. While being a Seeker in reputation, there was no shortage of trouble in his wake when dealing in the shadows. Traveling the long halls and crystal elevators, Kilam soon found himself at the core of Miraj'Dah. Home of the brightest engineers and crystal makers. The ones who maintained this city's flowing abilities. Silent was his approach as he passed the guards at the door, gesturing to his arm, they paid him little heed. Kilam's visits to the Crystal Engineers were a normal ordeal since his return from the ground. Peaking left and right, he had yet to find someone to help him actually improve the limb, but someone else in the Seeker's section told him of Palesa. One of their brightest and most inquisitive mind had found an interest in his condition.
Now if only he could find her. Sauntering down the halls, Kilam kept out of the way. Sitting mostly in the shadows with a blood-stained, ripped tunic.
@Palesa Kamau
