Nightwind’s home

“relax” he heard his mentor’s voice in his head as he sat on his keens in the only patch of light within the dimly lit room. “relax … slowly”. He tried to empty his mind on focus on the imaginary sound in his head. “let it course through you … follow the beam of light as it traverses your veins”.

He was darkness and he belong within darkness. A soft feeling invaded his boy, pouring in through ever fiber. He knew what it was, it was that indescribable something that existed between every living soul, filling in an invisible way the space between. That something was in his control now … or so he hoped.

A crack broke the silence and a sigh quickly followed. Nightwind opened his eyes.

“I can’t do it” he whispered with dismay “I simply can’t”.

“Your mind tries to deceive you, Nightwind” Darkmatter appeared out of the shadows. “Don’t trouble yourself with the outcome, just focus on what is now”

The paladin lowered his head. It was an improbable position for one of his age and experience to serve as student to one much younger, yet … a master of the Craft. But here, in the realm of magic, he was the young one. As an elf, he had an innate ability to feel and mastery of the Craft should come easily. Yet, something was missing.

“Magic comes in two forms, my friend. The ways of the clerics and priests are simpler. They just get in touch with the soul, the invisible world that fills this world with life and … the world listens to them. The material world bends to their will. You know this, as a paladin, because you already use it. Your healing spells exchange spirit for life and the other way around. You act as a channel for your Goddess’ power into this world.”

Darkmatter paused to look at his apprentice.

“But the arcane, our way, draws power from somewhere else. See … when the gods created the world, they left bits and pieces of themselves within their creation. This is inherent to the act of creation, there can be no other way. The creator always puts something of himself into his creation, this is where life comes from. Bits and pieces of the power they used lies within us and within every living being on this world. We channel that power in order to do our bidding. The difference is that while a cleric can only manipulate what already exists, we are creators … we can draw from that unseen vector of magic known as ‘mana’ in order to create. Our bodies serve as channels … and you must be aware of this. Words, materials and so on aren’t as important as the mind. Incantations and spellwords, these exist only as helpers, to help you mind visualize the truth: mana is existence itself. It is also important to know because your body can only channel so much mana … in time you will be able to harness more and more through your will alone but you need study and practice to increase the volume and also to be able to bend it to your will”

Nightwind nodded slowly. In the beginning he had been just a warrior, trusting his steel in order to preserve the balance of his Goddess. Then he became more cunning, learning to bend others to his will, to disappear from plain sight and to dispatch foes silently. After that he learned arts … in order to balance himself. But this was totally different. All the other disciplines had always dealt with what the saw and felt, but ‘mana’ and the real power of the Gods were things much to abstract for him.

“I’m only hanging too much on what I can see. My mind is caged by what others tell me to believe and by what my senses dictate. I need to free myself from these, they cannot be completely trusted.”

Darkmatter nodded slowly.

Nightwind closed his eyes again.