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Warrior of the Void, Book 1, chapter 15: Peer Reviewed
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 18:47:12 +0000 UTCChapter 15:“Why am I even here too?” Fise sighed.
“Because,” Silent chirped, patting his head, “you didn’t manage to outrun me when I demanded payback for an entire night of mindless research that led to absolutely nothing~!”
“Right,” Groaning and rolling his eyes, he offered a book to Muur, “Here, this book contains a number of meditation and self-influencing methods. It might help with the ‘mental fortitude’ aspect of your research.”
“Why’re you trying to research that and aetheric balance by the way?” Silent asked without care, “I just realised that I didn’t ask! Or that we didn’t introduce ourselves to each other.”
“Oh, I had an extremely bad reaction between my aetheric instability and the corrupted crystals on the way to Ul’dah. Left me dissociating bad enough it was a minor miracle I made it to the Ossuary in one piece, so I want to make sure it never happens again.” Muur explained as she grabbed the book with a thankful nod and added it to the growing bundle wrapped in her tail, “Or that I at least have a fighting chance if it does.”
“Oh, you’re–, right. That explains why our Illustrious Cocobuki called so many favors in so few days.” The man chuffed, a smile on his lips.
“I’m hurt,” Silent cried crocodile tears as she clutched her breast with mock pain, “You got yourself some juicy gossip. And you didn't even share with your friend? Why, I'd even be annoyed– except that I am also the model of a polite young lady who knows her manners!” Offering another book to Muur, she winked at the lizard, “Silent Umbrage, Void Hunter at your service~.”
“...Okay, I have to preface this by explaining that my name directly translates to Cat-Fish, but– is that an assumed name or do roegadyn parents just go all in?” The scaly thaumaturge asked after a pregnant pause.
Her question gave birth to a second pause, both of the Void Hunters staring in silence at her for a moment. Fise’s flat and impassive face was inscrutable and hid his thoughts behind a mask as blank as the canvas of a painter in the middle of artist’s block.
Silent Umbrage on the other hand– “Er– uh, no,” –was stuck between chuckling at Muur’s misconception, or letting her mouth flap like Muur’s namesake, “They–” she eventually regained her composure with a snort, “–I mean, roegadyn names have a very specific naming convention. Do– Stop laughing, you ass.”
Fise leaned out of range of an annoyed slap, “I don't recall laughing?” His voice was completely level as he raised an eyebrow, “But maybe I did? What do you say, little miss? Did I?”
“He has been nothing but unfailingly polite.” Muur replied without missing a single beat.
“You were laughing,” The woman insisted, tapping the side of her head, “In your mind!”
“Oh~?” The cat breathed, his eyebrow rising higher, “A mind reader now, are you?”
“...My revenge will be as swift as it will be unexpected,” Silent grumbled menacingly, before pouting, “You’ll rue this day soon enough.”
Unfortunately for her, Fise didn’t particularly seem intimidated by her threat, “I’m certain I will, yes. But you were saying with roegadyn’s names?”
“Swift, and unexpected!” She grumbled again, “We roegadyn, to get back on track, aren’t from Eorzea. Long story short, no one knows where they came from exactly. Only that it’s north of Eorzea, roegadyn names are near always made up of two regular words, usually a descriptor and a noun put together. But the reason my name’s Silent Umbrage, not Swyg… something, is because of how I'm not a Sea Wolf. They’re the most populous clan and they kept using the ancient tongue to make names. In contrast, the Hellsguard tends to just use the Eorzean tongue for our names.”
“Huh, sounds afrikaans.” Muur muttered under her breath, before shaking those thoughts clear, “Thanks, I’d have been gnawing on my brain for hours otherwise. I can tell you a bit about the Xaela tribes sometime in return, if you want.”
“I’d love to! Oh, do you guys also have two weirdly antagonistic clans with different physical traits? Because at this point, I’m starting to be convinced that–”
“Please don’t listen to her,” Fise said curtly. “For some reason, she’s convinced that all races are like this. The corkboard is starting to spill into the hallway.”
“...The issue is that she’s right. The white-scaled Raen and the black-scaled Xaela have been at odds for all our recorded history. The only reason there isn’t open war is that the Raen keep to their fortified valleys and the Xaela tribes are content fighting amongst themselves whenever a Kaghan doesn’t unify the lot for some cause.” Muur explained after an intensely awkward pause, rubbing the back of her neck.
Slooooowly, Fise turned to look at Silent, beads of sweat forming on his brow at the same time a wide grin began to split her face in half, “Don’t.” He all but begged.
“Swift. And. Unexpected.” She whispered back, before smiling back at Muur, “Thanks for the info~! Hope you don't mind me leaving, I’ve got a board to update~!”
With no one stopping her, the roegadyn swiftly made her exit, prancing all the while, “She will be. Unbearable, I hope you realise that?” Sighing, he nodded towards Muur, “Void Hunter L’Fise, Nunh by technicality. You’ll have to excuse me too, I need to make sure she doesn’t make her room even more of a hazard…”
“Godspeed.” The lizard wizard chuckled, finding enough mercy in her scaly heart not to imply these two were dating. Now, time to get to work.
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Cross referencing the various books she’d gotten her hands on took the better part of the morning, but once she was done, the secrets of meditation were hers!
Some of them at least. According to what she’d found, circulating your aether in tune with an external element, while in a place lacking in distractions and ‘steeped in worldly peace’ was the best place to start.
Finding someone to bother so she could find an empty room and borrow a candle was simple enough, actually entering the meditative trance? Quite a bit more difficult. She had old habits to break from. Normally, she’d focus on her heartbeat and the shift of her blood through her veins, all while in absolute silence and darkness.
The only saving grace was that she’d always found fire mesmerizing, so looking deep into the candle’s flame and letting her mind drift was no trouble. Keeping it loose while ensuring her aether did what it had to? Not so much.
Still, it was relaxing work– and fulfilling too! Pushing her aether to move in time with the flame’s wavering form was unlike any exercise she’d ever done, each rise and fall she forced onto it helped her grasp its nature in ways that she never could have achieved otherwise, and… There was something calming to this. To finally be able to take the time to know this part of herself in a way that all mages ought to, rather than treating it like a wild beast she had to keep chained up.
Staring into the flame, it kind of felt that it wasn’t just burning away wax. But rather that every crackle and pop that came from it wasn’t due to an impurity that hadn’t been strained out of the candle, but from burning away the near imperceptible tension that had rested on her shoulders like a cloak made of stones for as long as she’d been her new self.
She indulged until the candle was nearly spent, using its guttering flame to light another and settle herself back in. Once she was comfortable and started to slip into that zen state of mind again, she let herself slide all the way into the second step of the meditation: Closing oneself off from the world so that all she could perceive was themselves. Slowly she let her eyelids fall. At no point letting the small flame fade from her sight for a moment, and instead allowing it to burn its hypnotic sway into her retina. While focusing so intently on it, a thought hit her.
It was dancing. It was a second grade observation, one that anyone would have made after staring at a candle flame for minutes on end. But… it felt important to link the way it would switch from a languid pace to bursts of wild movement whenever her breath tickled it so. Like such a realisation had tangible weight.
In the next moment, her eyes closed fully. But she wasn’t in the dark, instead she could still see the flame’s dance burning brightly behind her eyelids. At least for a time. As the sight slowly faded away, marking the end of the meditation, the crackles that filled the air started to sound a bit different to her horns.
They weren’t burning away her anxiety anymore– there was too little of it left to serve as fuel. Instead, they were becoming drums, urging the dance to go on and on with their wild and unpredictable rhythm. All the while the pitter-patter of the dancer’s feet grew in intensity whenever the pop of clapping hands echoed in her ears–
Wait, ears?
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Comments
Azena
Ears? What’s this?
