Continued from here
The suns had returned, and like every Ashan, Kasoria indulged himself. He'd always done so. Finding reasons or just excuses to put himself outside for a few breaks at at time. He knew many did the same. Humans were not just creatures who were made to be most active in the waking hours, their bodies needed that light. He'd heard tales of peoples who never saw the suns, buried deep in the bones of the world, become waxen, pallid, hairless, degenerated parodies of humanity. Thirty trials of that left everyone in Etzos paler, gaunter, with eyes that seemed sunken not just from exhaustion but... fear. Some sort of buried, unspoken terror that maybe this time, they wouldn't come back. That it would be night and darkness save for fires and torches forever.
That never happened. Every Ashan, every culture and nation and city and people marked that miracle the same way. But there was always next year, so just in case this was the last time...
Make the most of it.
He was lounging on a bench in one of the gardens, one of three he used in the sprawling palace. Paranoia was not something spoken of often in Etzos; not being fucking predictable was. So he rotated between the three, changing every other day, so his routine would be that little harder to predict. As one who'd often been doing the predicting, he knew that often made the difference. Being here rather than there at the right time was often what saved a man (or damned him). But regardless of which, he still chose a spot smack in the rays of the suns above them. Relishing the heat and the warmth and the light.
He chuckled as he turned another page. Rather ironic for a man who spent so much of his life in the shadows, tunnels, mines, passages, the dark places of the world. Turned out he was no less human than most. Then he chased the idle thought from his mind, focusing on the latest chapter[/knowledge].
[googlefont=Dancing Script]Once a budding mage elevates himself to the level of a journeyman magician, he begins to dabble in the most famous aspect of Sovereign: the manipulation of matter itself. Which is not to say he has not been doing this beforehand; the difference is that now, with the finer level of control afforded to them through practice and discipline, more refined and specific casts can be made. Known as "Reach", this is the ability to grab and then move objects from feet away, by hardening the air around that object and then lifting them as one's actual hands would.
Kasoria's black eyes flickered over the top of the book. A couple of yards away from him, getting slowly hotter in the noon sun, was a ceramic water jug and a clay mug. His gaze narrowed as he remembered what had happened to a set just like it a couple of trials before.
Well, you were tired and you rushed. Besides, the maid was more than happy to clean it up.
Something distinctly Etzori groaned inside Kasoria and his eye twitched. Fates, was he really the kind of twat that had a maid now? Well, no, he wasn't. He was the kind of twat that protected twats that had maids. There was, he assured himself, a distinction.
Is this relevant? Crack on, old boy.
Some more astute readers may have noticed a similarity between Reach and the "Shackle" ability of Abrogation. While they both work through hardened air around an object, there are two crucial distinctions. Most obviously, Reach cannot be used on a living creature, whereas Shackle can. Just as importantly, Shackles cannot be moved by an abrogating mage. Shackles cast can be firm as iron but they stay exactly where they are. They cannot carry or lift or pull or push. Reach can do all of these things, though only within reason. Since Reach is a direct extension of the limb, when used it can only move what the physical muscle can. Thus we see that while Sovereign grants the mage impossible, wondrous control over the world around him, his limitations as a mortal are still present, and to be respected.
Kaosria resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that little titibit of fucking philosophy, instead putting the book down and swinging himself upright on the bench. The jug and cup were right in front of him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in, and when he breathed out-
There it was. Flighty and eager as ever.
Time to play. [/googlefont]
. Magic books written by experts being few and far between, I don't suppose you'd find many cut-and-dry Magic for Dummy books that get to the point with humor and style. Or just straight up technical manuals. Magi tend to have egos to match their expertise, so it's natural they'd want to show off how well they can write.