Rebel Dynasty
Creator of Microcosms
Sorry for the double-post. ^^;
Just a snip I came across, since I've been reading through AG (trying to keep the plot on track). Nothing overly exciting; I just thought it was one of the nicer introspective pieces. ^^;
And another one involving Forneus a couple of years later, in the Training Facility:
Just a snip I came across, since I've been reading through AG (trying to keep the plot on track). Nothing overly exciting; I just thought it was one of the nicer introspective pieces. ^^;
He’d had enough history lessons between Lord Silvanus and Lady Artemis to know that, no matter how fond of humans he’d become over the years, theirs was a history of violence; that for every good, kind individual, there were many others, seeking to profit from another’s despair.
Still, it was those good individuals—those innocents, young or old—that had spurred his desire to join the Regulations Force. Commander Asclepius and Shikko both had told him so much about their missions on Earth, of the many people they’d helped to protect—and more importantly, the many who had gone out of their way to protect one another, no matter the cost to their own lives.
If they, with their short lives, can be so brave and selfless, thought Forneus, then what right have I to stand idly by and do nothing? It was these exact words he’d used while appealing to his guardians, and he suspected, the exact words that had won them over in the end.
Still, their approval had come with caution; for once he’d joined the Regulations Force, the road ahead would be a long and arduous one, indeed. There were no limits to the dangers he would be subjected to, no limits to the amount of violence and suffering he would both witness and experience in the human world.
Forneus forced these thoughts to the back of his mind with an ardent shake of his head, determined not to let them get the better of him. Now was not the time for groundless worrying; there would be time enough for that later, when he’d officially been accepted into the Regulations Force’s ranks—and no mistake, he would become one of their number. However long it took, no matter how many attempts he’d have to take at the entrance exams, Forneus wouldn’t knuckle under the pressure. Too long he’d dreamed of this, of being not only a valuable asset to the Spectrum, but a guardian to the race that had brought him into being—accidentally though it might have been. Nothing would dissuade him. Not now, not ever.
Still, it was those good individuals—those innocents, young or old—that had spurred his desire to join the Regulations Force. Commander Asclepius and Shikko both had told him so much about their missions on Earth, of the many people they’d helped to protect—and more importantly, the many who had gone out of their way to protect one another, no matter the cost to their own lives.
If they, with their short lives, can be so brave and selfless, thought Forneus, then what right have I to stand idly by and do nothing? It was these exact words he’d used while appealing to his guardians, and he suspected, the exact words that had won them over in the end.
Still, their approval had come with caution; for once he’d joined the Regulations Force, the road ahead would be a long and arduous one, indeed. There were no limits to the dangers he would be subjected to, no limits to the amount of violence and suffering he would both witness and experience in the human world.
Forneus forced these thoughts to the back of his mind with an ardent shake of his head, determined not to let them get the better of him. Now was not the time for groundless worrying; there would be time enough for that later, when he’d officially been accepted into the Regulations Force’s ranks—and no mistake, he would become one of their number. However long it took, no matter how many attempts he’d have to take at the entrance exams, Forneus wouldn’t knuckle under the pressure. Too long he’d dreamed of this, of being not only a valuable asset to the Spectrum, but a guardian to the race that had brought him into being—accidentally though it might have been. Nothing would dissuade him. Not now, not ever.
And another one involving Forneus a couple of years later, in the Training Facility:
Forneus nodded, following Awel as he led the way deeper between the constantly-turning planets, stopping just shy of Jupiter’s path. With only black space spanning on seemingly forever, the effect was a bit jarring; even with the sun, planets, and stars reflecting in its surface, even feeling it beneath his feet—he couldn’t seem to tell where space ended and the obsidian floor began.
Awel’s voice dragged his attention away from Jupiter as it passed, successfully banishing his discomfort with it. “As you recall during our last lesson, the circling planets serve to aid your discipline in focusing on your task, despite the obvious distractions.” He gestured toward the series of moons orbiting Jupiter, each one reflecting the gas giant’s many hues of colour—and each one distracting in their beauty. “I think for this lesson we will remove the element of illusion, and introduce a bit of realism.”
With his eyes closed, Awel extended a muscular arm in front of him, tracing the air with elegant fingers. A sliver of golden light appeared, widening into something Forneus had become quite familiar with over the years; an ethereal control panel. It wasn’t typical of the panel to come when summoned—most everyone else who utilized the Training Facility’s ability to change environment had to seek it out near the room’s entrance—but Awel wasn’t just anyone. As one of the members of the Regulations Force upon its inception—and despite his relatively youthful appearance, one of the oldest—he had displayed such talents in Forneus’s presence before.
Forneus watched as Awel traced several of the keys, punching in the sequence that would take the illusion of heavenly bodies and make them tangible. The panel glowed a vibrant green for half a second before vanishing with a crackle of dispersed energy, the subtle glow it had given off trailing out in eddies like luminescent dust to touch each one of the planets and stars.
He knew the moment they’d become tangible. Though possessing nowhere near the pulverizing weight their real counterparts would, they could still hit with bruising force. He learned this first-hand, when a floating piece of space debris—no bigger than a plum—struck his shoulder.
Forneus let out a hiss of pain, recoiling. His gaze snapped from Awel to the rest of the planetary environment, wary of incoming debris, and back again.
Something of the question he’d been about to ask must have reflected in his eyes, for Awel said, “This is defensive training, is it not? Come, young Forneus—show me the extent of your shielding prowess.”
He took a steadying breath, preparing to do just that. All the while, he tracked the planets and bit of stray rock with his gaze, willing as much energy into the air around him as he could. The first couple of times he’d tried—two years earlier—had resulted in failure. With that failure he had sustained injuries, and more importantly, lessons that would help him to guard against his weak areas in the future.
It had still proven difficult, but week by week, little by little, he’d begun to improve. And each time he improved, Awel would raise the proverbial bar, increasing the difficulty of his training; at first marginally, then by substantial leaps as his pace of learning quickened.
This wasn’t the first time Forneus had found himself having to shield against physical blows, but it was the first time the things responsible for such blows had been quite this large. Larger, heavier beings and objects required more energy—and more control. Forneus extended both arms to their full extents from his sides, fingers trembling in the air as he poured as much of himself into the defensive barriers as he could.
A scattering of space debris, not much bigger than the chunk that had hit his shoulder, thudded against one part of the force field he’d erected, making its mostly-invisible barrier flash with concentric circles of green light. With nowhere else to go, the debris dissolved, reduced to space dust. Forneus permitted himself a small, triumphant smile, before returning his attention to the rest of the objects encircling him.
From the way Awel stood, some fifty or so feet away with his hands weaving complicated patterns in the air, it seemed he was controlling the various meteors. Sure enough, they surged forward, guided by a sharp flick of the first two fingers on his right hand, and guided in staggering arcs with the left.
Forneus widened his stance, prepared. He felt the tension roiling in the pit of his stomach, the energy bubbling within the centre of his chest and expanding rapidly outward like the concussive blast of a star going supernova. Instead of a literal explosion, however, there was a ripple, forming a glittering ring of vibrant blue light around him.
Awel’s voice dragged his attention away from Jupiter as it passed, successfully banishing his discomfort with it. “As you recall during our last lesson, the circling planets serve to aid your discipline in focusing on your task, despite the obvious distractions.” He gestured toward the series of moons orbiting Jupiter, each one reflecting the gas giant’s many hues of colour—and each one distracting in their beauty. “I think for this lesson we will remove the element of illusion, and introduce a bit of realism.”
With his eyes closed, Awel extended a muscular arm in front of him, tracing the air with elegant fingers. A sliver of golden light appeared, widening into something Forneus had become quite familiar with over the years; an ethereal control panel. It wasn’t typical of the panel to come when summoned—most everyone else who utilized the Training Facility’s ability to change environment had to seek it out near the room’s entrance—but Awel wasn’t just anyone. As one of the members of the Regulations Force upon its inception—and despite his relatively youthful appearance, one of the oldest—he had displayed such talents in Forneus’s presence before.
Forneus watched as Awel traced several of the keys, punching in the sequence that would take the illusion of heavenly bodies and make them tangible. The panel glowed a vibrant green for half a second before vanishing with a crackle of dispersed energy, the subtle glow it had given off trailing out in eddies like luminescent dust to touch each one of the planets and stars.
He knew the moment they’d become tangible. Though possessing nowhere near the pulverizing weight their real counterparts would, they could still hit with bruising force. He learned this first-hand, when a floating piece of space debris—no bigger than a plum—struck his shoulder.
Forneus let out a hiss of pain, recoiling. His gaze snapped from Awel to the rest of the planetary environment, wary of incoming debris, and back again.
Something of the question he’d been about to ask must have reflected in his eyes, for Awel said, “This is defensive training, is it not? Come, young Forneus—show me the extent of your shielding prowess.”
He took a steadying breath, preparing to do just that. All the while, he tracked the planets and bit of stray rock with his gaze, willing as much energy into the air around him as he could. The first couple of times he’d tried—two years earlier—had resulted in failure. With that failure he had sustained injuries, and more importantly, lessons that would help him to guard against his weak areas in the future.
It had still proven difficult, but week by week, little by little, he’d begun to improve. And each time he improved, Awel would raise the proverbial bar, increasing the difficulty of his training; at first marginally, then by substantial leaps as his pace of learning quickened.
This wasn’t the first time Forneus had found himself having to shield against physical blows, but it was the first time the things responsible for such blows had been quite this large. Larger, heavier beings and objects required more energy—and more control. Forneus extended both arms to their full extents from his sides, fingers trembling in the air as he poured as much of himself into the defensive barriers as he could.
A scattering of space debris, not much bigger than the chunk that had hit his shoulder, thudded against one part of the force field he’d erected, making its mostly-invisible barrier flash with concentric circles of green light. With nowhere else to go, the debris dissolved, reduced to space dust. Forneus permitted himself a small, triumphant smile, before returning his attention to the rest of the objects encircling him.
From the way Awel stood, some fifty or so feet away with his hands weaving complicated patterns in the air, it seemed he was controlling the various meteors. Sure enough, they surged forward, guided by a sharp flick of the first two fingers on his right hand, and guided in staggering arcs with the left.
Forneus widened his stance, prepared. He felt the tension roiling in the pit of his stomach, the energy bubbling within the centre of his chest and expanding rapidly outward like the concussive blast of a star going supernova. Instead of a literal explosion, however, there was a ripple, forming a glittering ring of vibrant blue light around him.
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