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*Laughs as my voice fades to emptiness*
Not everything is as it seem—
*They strike me, finding an empty, dead magician's suit*
Kirina: Good riddance... not very fond of magicians anyway.
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*Laughs as my voice fades to emptiness*
Not everything is as it seem—
*They strike me, finding an empty, dead magician's suit*
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You'll be in this pain for a long, long time. You must obligate yourself to your chosen window into the nature of time. Everything must revolve around the element you choose. Some choose even more complex representations, although those tend to get out of hand. Perhaps you will drift toward your own signature discipline, as my student has.
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You may best align with the disciples of the tree, then. Or perhaps the weave.
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That's not a concern right now. Right now, you need to bind yourself to one of those disciplines. To me, time is a boundless desert.
*Waves my hand, swirling the sands around my arm*
The sands are aimless, directionless, and will swallow you up to be forgotten. The water freaks prefer to look at time's forward movement and seeming inevitability, with many tributaries and vortices. There are many other disciplines as well. Once you've adopted one, you can tap into many of time's deeper essences.
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That's not a concern right now. Right now, you need to bind yourself to one of those disciplines. To me, time is a boundless desert.
*Waves my hand, swirling the sands around my arm*
The sands are aimless, directionless, and will swallow you up to be forgotten. The water freaks prefer to look at time's forward movement and seeming inevitability, with many tributaries and vortices. There are many other disciplines as well. Once you've adopted one, you can tap into many of time's deeper essences.
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Let's.
*Cracks my knuckles*
Time is an abstract structure, the nature of which we can only hope to grasp. Thus, we visualize time by nature of analogy. Of similitude. It's an imperfect way of looking at that which we serve.
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I hope for your sake you don't earn both. You won't die, at least not yet. But you won't make it out of this desert without learning the basics of a discipline.
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Very well.
*The sandy winds seem to pick up in intensity until the particulates feel as if they're cutting against our skin, while the battlefield slows down at the same rate that it becomes obscured from our vision*
This won't be pleasant.
*Your bleeding slows as well, but the pain remains*
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A higher-level branch. That's going to be hard to work with.
*Stares at you with a grimace, visibly contemplating for a brief moment that seems to span for quite some time*
Are you prepared to suffer great pain to live?
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*Runs three fingers through the wet sand, muddied by blood*
How attuned are you to any discipline of time?
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*Looks down at the wound and then at the clammy skin of your face*
You don't want to die here. Trust me.