Let the dice fall, for they know where to go! (Ikos Basic Training, Peer Mod Z'Kron)

[Henry Brightblade]

30th of Imamanis

Henry took a nice stroll down from the city gates to the countryside of Aelyria Prime. It was one of those moments when the world within a city had become too much. There were times when Henry just needed to be alone. You were never truly alone in a city such as prime. Being alone in prime meant that no one was paying any attention to you. Yet the countryside was different, and there were many falls that Henry had come down from the city to help pull in the farmer’s harvest. The country was meant for those who need to see the sky uninterrupted. Where the sun could settle and fill the sky with colors from orange to melting gold. Everyone in the city seemed to almost hate to look up, like if you did the building would fall right onto your head.

So today was Henry’s free day from the office, and he felt the urge to leave the city for the world outside. To go down some country path and to hear the birds sing. To walk on some dirt path that has never seen a paved stoned. To smell the grass and growing crops, while seeing farm animals go about there business. The countryside reminded Henry of a time when all was not just hurry and paper. When the milk maids had ample frames and a sway in there hips. Now Henry was forced to make sly glances at the baker’s daughter, but out in the countryside it was simpler and there was no need for prompt and proper.

So as he walked Henry tipped his hat to two lovely maidens walking down to the well for water. It was a day for sun, simple pleasures, and enjoyment.

[Z'kron]

Ah, courtesy. So rare these days that it's often completely misinterpreted. Or perhaps not, given Henry's attention to milk maid's hips and bakers. But this time, his courtesy at tipping hats to young women had been noticed by more than just the ladies.
An old man, bent slightly at the waist, glanced warily at Henry as he tipped his hat at the two maidens; and this glance soon turned to a glare as he was apparently infuriated by the others youth. Hobbling over as quickly as he could despite his hunching and walking canes, he proceeded to prod Henry repeatedly with one of the sticks, berating him for his interest in the young women with a voice that lisped just a little.
"You stay away from my daughters! They're for the likes of real gentleman! Not the likes of you! I didn't move them all this way to get em involved with scragglehaired ruffians!" Poke. Poke. Poke. The maidens, meanwhile, dashed off to the well giggling yet more.

[Henry Brightblade]

Henry quickly backed away from the old man putting on a solemn face, even though he almost found the whole thing strangely funny. He felt as if the old man had probably done the same thing at his age and that the truth of the whole world was that Henry son would do the same. It was nature’s guarantee that there would always be humans around. Besides the man was right looking at the feminine curve of the hip was very bad manners.

“Sir, you are absolutely correct, my manners were unacceptable. I used the cover of my hat to take advantage of the situation.”Henry dodge to the side as the old man went for another thrust. Looking directly at the maidens, Henry tried to keep the old man at bay by moving a step out of his reach every time he tried for another poke.

“Ladies, I must apologize for my roaming eyes,”Quickly Henry stepped just enough out of reach to feel the poke lessen as it hit him.“could you forgive me, before I have bruises all over my frame?”Truth be known Henry didn’t mine making a fool of himself as the maidens kept giggling. Feeling light and free because of the fine day, Henry did a bit of foolery with his body. Making over eager gestures, and making it all a bit of comic show. He mainly used his own body for the jest, since he didn’t want to make the man anymore mad.

Henry knew that the man needed to be diffused and truthfully playing the part of a jester on such a fine day, wasn’t very hard. There are simply days that in life fill the heart with song and fun. Days that make you fill like the only care in the world is to laugh, and Henry was having one of those days. He stopped for a moment and allow the old man to approach.

Henry looked up at the sky and then back down at the old man,“Sir, I meant on ill feelings to you or your family, but can’t you feel the day. It one of those brightenings where life sings in the marrow of ones bones. Feel the sun on your face, smell the wildflowers on the hills and the dark rich soil of the fields. Listen to the world around you, the laughter of your daughter, the clap of ones boots on soil. This is a day for living! Please, I have some cheese from the city, would you like to have some while we just sit and feel life for a moment?”Henry looked at the old man in genuine earnest. He didn’t want to argue or fight, today was a day for friends and for making them.

[Z'kron]

OOC: Sorry for the delays, middle of exam season
IC:
The ladies could indeed forgive Henry. Unlike the elderly gentleman, they seemed to find the attentions of the young man not in slightest bit offensive. Nonetheless, they did not make eyecontact or speak beyond this, but merely giggled among themselves from several feet away.
"Ah well. Boundaries. That's what young folk need. No looking, no touching. And put your dang cheese away. Prime makes horrible cheese. Where dyou suppose they keep the cows in Prime? If you want good cheese, have to go to the provinces. Hmmph. Now Vers. Vers had good cheese."
Despite his cantakerous words, it was obvious that Henry's jesterlike behavior had softened his attitude towards him. Not enough to allow his daughters back nearby, mind, but enough for him to converse.
"Sniffing wildflowers? Isn't that a bit elfy? Thought that type of headspinning sniffing was illegal round these parts. Big city morals. Not the way they should be."
Another poke with the stick, though less severe. His mouth was tight, but he did not seem particularly unsympathetic.
"A man like you, young lad like you- he should be having an occupation. A goal. An ideal. A dream. Not just chasing after young ladies on idling days."

[Henry Brightblade]

Henry looked down at the elderly gentleman as he spoke about where they kept the cows in Prime, he made a just with a half smile and a bit of humor in his eye. “My good man surely you must make light of Prime! Cows! Pah! This cheese comes from dogs, and we have the finest imps milking them!”Henry made motions with his thumb and fore finger of milking the small nipple of a dog. He stopped as the old cantankerous man continued. He just wanted to hear one of the country ladies laugh.

As the old man finished his speech, Henry knew that he had won over the man with his tom foolery. “Well sir, I have a dream, it comes from my father. One day much like this he sat me down and he spoke of men and their deeds. He said to me, ‘Henry, life is full of injustice and cruelty. It can come from nature, the Gods, or each other, but in the end people make it the most unjust. Some men add to it, some merely accept it and then continue neither trying to change the world or themselves. And yet, there are a few men that despite all the injustice and cruelty, they try to make the world a better place.’ He went on about jobs and so forth afterwards, but it was those words that I tried to become a man that made things for the better. Say what you will about me sniffing wildflowers, but I made your daughters laugh and I made you smile yourself. I broke the everyday toil for one moment and perhaps left the world with a little more happiness then sorrow. It won’t last long nor will you remember it in a cycle, but for a moment I broke it all and made you all think of silly things instead of world.”

Henry thought about his words and then became a little more seriousness. “However, that’s not to say that we all should be childish and live our lives just for pleasure and laughter. I truly hope to someday influence something for the better for cycles long past the end of mine. The world needs to be taken seriously, but when a man builds a house he breaks part of the cruelty of nature. When a man becomes a guard and protects those who are innocent of the law from those that are not he breaks part of the cruelty of man. I choose to become a clerk, hoping one day to become a politician or work for the thane of Prime. The world can hurt to much, and if by law or release of funds, I can help the people of Prime become better, then in the end I would have left this world in a better place. That’s my dream, but in the mean time I leave my dusty scrolls and ink pots behind and venture to the country to see the hard work of real people and know that the world is still beautiful, instead of seeing the ugliness of the city everyday.”

[Z'kron]

"Well spoken young man. You do well for an eater of dog cheese. But you speak too freely of nipples in front of my daughters."
The old man gave a smile, straightening his back with a cracking sound. He waved off one of his daughters, who came by to support him; and who seemed to be making attentive eye movements at Henry. But this time, the elder seemed not to notice.
"And I think, just think, that you might not have wandered my way by accident. Very few things are pure accident in this world. And perhaps we can make this breaking of the daily toil just a little more common. Though becoming a politician? Well, not my way. There are better ways, and subtle things going through this world."
He gave a sniffle, rubbing his nose. Then he knelt down on the ground, and withdrew a stick, scratching a symbol onto the earth. It was a strange looking thing, looking like a square within a square with lines connecting the edges.
"This is the symbol which compelled me to this place today, which moved us from Vers to here many moons past. It is the symbol of ikos. It may not be your symbol, but you have a choice about it."
The elder reached out and tapped Henry lightly on the head. Images started swimming freely, moving throughout his mind; lines and runes swirling past and halting in faltering strides.
"Think of a thought. Hold to it. The world has willed it. Hold to a thought, and see where it takes you."

[Henry Brightblade]

It felt like Henry started to fall into himself, as if the world had fallen away forever vanished by simple line that spoke deep within the roots of the world and him. What thought could Henry hold onto as a world of chaos spun and spoke? The only thing that he could hold onto was himself, the core of him that drove him, molded him, and wanted him to change.

It was an elemental part of Henry, change and not just for its stake, but change for the better. The thoughts started to well up into Henry mind, he remember the first powerful sunrise he had ever seen. How it had crested the harbor in fiery orange passion, beating back the night with strength beyond all others, for it made the day. Dark came into light, forever more powerful, good started to beat in the hearts of men. Fisherman and dock workers came to work with happiness on there faces, his father with a look a cleanliness and goodness on his face. This was new, this was a new day, it spoke of a beginning to good things. There was work needed for it to improve, but it was the beginning something that started better for the world.

Lines began to fall in Henry’s mind as each one did Henry felt the compulsion to draw the image upon the ground. Yet Henry didn’t attack it like it was some thing to be rid of. Quietly and softly Henry began, much like the plate on a balance Henry’s mind drew a soft diagonal lip down to the right that led into a hard horizontal line which then turned into a upward soft diagonal lip to the right. In his mind it was the plates of some great balance, which measured goodness and evil. Which at the moment it was empty, the soft lips of the plate meant it was circular why the flat line meant it was powerful and supportive. The scale plate waited for very energy that would change the powerful balance. And Henry’s arm rose once more.

As his finger touched the ground above the scale, it was time for the weight. Henry drew the soft line that for him meant a circular object parallel to the scale. He felt his mind start to fill with the beat of sun and forever beginnings of new and better change. Henry provided the stem between the circular handle it was a strong stroke leading into the weight. For it provided the piercing clarity of action, that stem place the goodness in the dead center of the scale so that it impacted the greatest change through out the world, it was meant to speak the thought with purpose and clarity.

Henry finished the drawing by what looked like creating a box with the plate. However in Henry’s mind it was a cylinder. Like a tunnel, it had a start and finish, the finish would end with weight forcing the plate into action, but within that tunnel Henry place the vision of a new sunset and feeling of a new better beginning with in it.

Quietly the chaos came back upon the completion of the drawing, Henry felt like his mind had stumbled onto some thing that spoke its way down to his core. This one drawing had summed up a vital piece and part that was Henry, forever allowing a deeper part of himself to come forth into the world or cosmos. Henry looked up at the old man, quiet and expecting some sort of answer to the picture he had just done. It felt like the world had just flowed out of him and into that rune on the ground.

[Z'kron]

"You can see the runes now, eh? The whole world of ours, this whole world, it's based in chance. Every strand of every part of vis that exists only exists due to chance- and if chance turned against it, it could disappear. Even the gods are not above chance."
The voice of the old man whispered out as the runes fell through Henry's mind, brush strokes against reality. It seemed as if the whole world was built of runes, of runes building against runes; every fibre a part of chance.
"Now, you've touched the infinite. The truth behind it all. And these runes are how your mind sees it; a key to unlock the universe. By writing them, we solidfy them, allow them to seep back into the depths of our mind where we can make them reality. Not with our conscious mind, which is occupied by the petty mundanities of the world. But with something deeper."
The silence in his head quivered painfully; the cylinder turning once, twice, dozens of times beyond count before breaking into a burst of symbols; and then translating somehow into the material world, and then runes again until there was no difference- for they were all symbols, when looked at with differing eyes.
"It's all a matter of perception. We see the solid world as the real world; but by only seeing it as something constant we lose the ability to change it. It's not magic. It's sight. And any way you want to see it has truth. Simply the act of observing changes it."
" I want you to think, Henry. Wish and the runes will come to you. A clear wish; not vague or openended. And then you'll see the runes, and I want you to write them."
The cosmos was still moving within Henry; an awareness of the truth of things that was hidden from all but a chosen few. It was merely left to him to reach within himself and access it.

[Henry Brightblade]

The cosmos was still moving within Henry; an awareness of the truth of things that was hidden from all but a chosen few. It was merely left to him to reach within himself and access it.

Henry saw more along the lines of weights on balances and gears and levers attached to other gears, balances, and levers. His thoughts and actions felt like it was all chance and unconnected. Yet here in this grand tunnel of weights and gears he began to understand that all was connected that chance wasn’t as chaotic as he once thought. Chance was a word that blinded the people to the great cosmic tapestry. If Henry pushed one lever or moved one gear things would happen, and the old man was right, for it was his desire that could make movement happen throughout the universe; desire and the deep understanding within himself.

" I want you to think, Henry. Wish and the runes will come to you. A clear wish; not vague or openended. And then you'll see the runes, and I want you to write them."

Henry thought of a clear desire, and though his lips moved and his voice spoke to the greater world, Henry was truly talking to that deep core of himself; stating a desire that would force him to move to fulfill it.

“I wish to find the knowledge that I need to be successful at the academy.”

Henry saw a shadow self start to appear, it was made of aetheral threads from his mind and it contained his desires, deep core values, and even his darker passions. Slowly it started to moved, and Henry began to write within the loose soil of the ground.

EVO, it was a word, a sound that echoed throughout the entire tunnel. The shadow self that was nothing more then Henry started to move. Flashes of images came to Henry, a blank face slowly focusing in upon the forehead. Slowly it began to peal back and as muscle, bone, and grey tissue moved Henry saw a storehouse of knowledge. Deeds, ideas, values, words and knowledge in some places it was as if thoughts were words on paper some went into books others went into a flame. Knowledge of dancing was displayed on tapestries and paintings. Smells were captured in bottles, and tastes were placed on tables waiting to hit the tongue. All knowledge in its most perfect form was found here.

And then Henry looked outside of the store and found other meanings, people who were embracing in friendship, warmth and light of a candle not the sun that he had first thought of. Purity of virgin snow, beauty of prayer, and more imagines came to Henry yet he knew that he needed to focus on one meaning. He needed to clarify the chaos of his thoughts and focus, and so he went back to the image of the store house, for it was the place of knowledge, and where it would be found.

Henry moved his hands with precision of drawing lines to represent the face he saw. He started with the v slashes that meant the mind, coming to that deep point that was knowledge within a man. The nose was also a hook, or tunnel deep within his own mind. The seeking and work had to come from him, but it was there deep silent and forever. The eyes which also felt like people bowing and praying before some great being, would help him recognize the knowledge that he wanted, they would be there to guide him to what he sought.

ZALA, it was the weight that Henry had originally written. It was there so that the hard work Henry had ahead of him would be for the better. It was work for knowledge, knowledge that would lead to him being better, and that could never be taken away from him. He would die with the knowledge gain, yet it was for success of his own.

PIPITILI, Henry had the image of himself pulling on a rope, and before it could change he focused solely on it. The arms pulled on a great rope, the rope was tied to knowledge, and he felt that he was flaw, that he wasn’t perfect or powerful. Yet, if he continued he would succeed the weights that braced him pulled with him. He was man and he though he was flaw he was would struggle to improve. He wasn’t powerful nor was he great, but that wasn’t man… that wasn’t man’s destiny, but to struggle to fight beyond all odds, and to sometimes succeed was. It was Henry and yet it was all men. Henry drew a triangle to represent his arms and a line to bisect the triangle to represent the rope.

His wish was complete and through his eyes the symbols went deep into the tunnel to his shadowy self. They wrote themselves on his form, and what was the core of him moved, pressing levers, moving gears, and setting weights onto balances. Chance, chaos, destiny, and himself moved. Energy spilled from him forever pushing the wheels of history. He had woven a thread into the tapestry of the cosmos and it was complete.

Henry looked at the old men feeling as if the very world somehow moved, and yet it still was there. What else was in store, what more could be there?