Chapitre 30: The Tempest Elements
Riniock found himself back in the familiar confines of the library, his eyes scanning the shelves on the first floor. As an acolyte, this was his only domain – the first level stocked with the most elementary texts on magick. Despite the limitation, he wasn't deterred. After all, understanding the fundamentals was the first step to mastering more advanced spells further down the road.
Before he could learn to cast, he needed knowledge. Tempest spells. That was his goal. And with the assistance of the enchanted lectern, he soon discovered an ideal starting point. The book before him wasn't a practical guide, but it offered the foundation he sought.
He ran his fingers along the cover, taking in the title: Storms at Your Fingertips by Zireal Eza Zoran.
This should do it, he thought, flipping through the pages with a mixture of curiosity and resolve. If he wanted to harness the power of the tempest elements, understanding their nature was paramount.
He settled into a nearby reading nook, the weight of possibility filling the air around him. This was the beginning of something powerful – something that could tip the scales in his favour.
Riniock's eyes skimmed the poetic prose, absorbing the essence of the tempest elements. The lyrical language grated on him slightly, but he couldn't deny the vivid imagery and the sheer power described beneath the ornate words.
Wind. Frost. Lightning. Each one a facet of the storm's boundless power. He whispered the lines again, more thoughtfully this time:
'Wind is the unseen wanderer...a whispering breeze or a howling gale.'
The subtlety of wind intrigued him. The ability to move unseen, to shape and erode, or to strike with forceful, invisible strength – it offered flexibility and finesse.
'Frost is the cold grasp of winter...an invisible chill that drains warmth and life.'
The chilling stillness of frost had a ruthless elegance. To slow, to freeze, to sap strength from a foe – that was a weapon in itself.
This one he had already a bit of experience with.
'Lightning is the furious energy of the heavens... nature's fury, a spark of creation, and destruction.'
Here was raw power – brilliant, explosive, and unpredictable. It held the promise of devastation and awe, a force that commanded immediate respect.
He closed the book slowly, his mind whirling with possibilities. Zireal's flowery language might be overly dramatic, but the truths hidden within were clear: these elements could make him formidable. The tempest was not merely about casting spells; it was about embodying speed, volatility, and overwhelming might.
As he stood, ready to return the book, his eyes lingered on one final sentence etched into the back cover:
'Together, these Tempest Elements embody the spirit of the storm: swift, unpredictable, and powerful, shaping the world with relentless and often uncontrollable might.'
Swift. Unpredictable. Powerful. That's what he needed to become.
Riniock's resolve hardened. Now it was time to move beyond the theory and seek out practical knowledge. His next step lay in mastering these forces, one element at a time.
He slid the book back onto the shelf and headed for the deeper rows of manuscripts. The storm awaited him, and he intended to seize it.
With the lectern's assistance once again, Riniock quickly narrowed down his options. Each book flickered before his eyes with tempting possibilities, their name on the lectern whispering promises of mastery. Yet, none offered a unified path through all three tempest elements. He had to make a choice, and time was ticking away.
He considered his options carefully.
Wind – wind was fluid, versatile, and, perhaps most importantly, the foundation of motion and speed.
A pragmatic choice for a first step.
His eyes landed on a slim, unassuming book with a straightforward title:
'Easy Wind Techniques.'
A grin tugged at his lips. 'Simple title – good sign. That means the effort went into the techniques, not dressing it up.'
He lifted the book off the shelf, its weight reassuring in his hands. No frills, no fluff. Just practical knowledge he could use. This was exactly what he needed.
Riniock shuffled through the pages, absorbing both the intricate script and the detailed sketches. Each note from the author, every diagram, arrow, and annotation that outlined the techniques, demanded his full attention. He read and deciphered everything meticulously, committing it all to memory.
'I can't cast spells just yet,' he muttered, his eyes scanning a page depicting fluid hand movements and swirling currents of odh. 'But I can practice the motions, the gestures, and the way to circulate odh during casting.'
He took a deep breath, steadying his focus. Effective spellcasting wasn't just about knowing the theory. A maegi needed three things: a vessel unlocked within them, a successful attunement to their tome, and the spell properly inscribed on it. All the pieces were falling into place – he just needed to hone his technique and learn to inscribe it.
Riniock clenched his fists and opened them slowly, tracing the gestures shown in the book. He could feel the flow of odh within him, subtle but alive, ready to be directed with precision. This was the groundwork for wielding one of the tempest elements.
Riniock jotted down a few quick notes on a scroll, returned the book to its place, and slipped out of the library just before his pass expired.
The thought of crafting his first spell filled him with exhilaration; the anticipation buzzed through his veins, making patience seem impossible. The idea of waiting for the next lesson on spell inscription was unbearable.
He turned over potential solutions in his mind. One option was going back to the library using Niann's pass and learning the technique from more books, just as he'd done so far. But that plan had its risks.
There's no guarantee I'll find anything useful, he reasoned. Burning through my final pass on a mere possibility would be foolish.
A new idea struck him, though hesitation gnawed at the edges of his resolve. Ever since the humiliation in the main hall, he'd been wary of trusting others – especially anyone associated with Gorlea. Still, there was one person besides Niann whose interactions with him had always been transactional and straightforward.
'Lazrus,' he muttered, changing his direction towards the gatekeeper's quarters.
If he timed it right, Lazrus would be finishing his shift. If the man was in the right mood, he might be the key to Riniock's next step forward. With Lazrus's help, he could carve out the advantage he so desperately sought. An edge that would ensure his peers, no matter how determined, wouldn't catch up to him just yet.
It's worth a shot, he thought, quickening his pace.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
CJJChedid
CJJChedid Riniock's one step away from becoming a fully-fledged maegi! Only the gods can stop him now!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone