Welcome to Gaia! ::

As the airship grew closer to the center of the Air element, the teacher looked to his two students. "First thing you two need to learn is a bit of control. You've never been outside of Nanedin before, so you don't have any control over what you're doing. Especially if you're upset or angry. Right now, your emotions can take over your power, making it anywhere from a bit breezy to a raging tornado sweeping through the city."

The man faced the two adults. "Close your eyes. Feel the wind carrying us towards Telphe. Relax your bodies. Center your thoughts on that breeze." Gently the man calmed the breeze a bit, watching for reactions in his pupils' faces.

"Did you feel that? Did you sense how I did it? Keep your focus on the breeze. See if you can sense the different changes in it. Both the natural changes and the changes I cause. Don't try to control it just yet. Just feel it. Let the rhythem flow through you. Continue to focus on the wind. Learn about it. You cannot control what you do not understand."

As Nikiana and Vincent began their first lesson, the city of Telphe slowly appeared out of the fog that blanketed the high mountain tops.

Niki sat on the deck, her eyes closed as well. This was kind of boring, not being able to actually try and do anything with the wind. Maybe once they landed, the man would let them try something.

Slowly, the airship grew lower, coming to a gentle stop on the top of one of the peaks. The man tossed several lines out to someone else waiting on the ground and the ship was tied off. That task finished, the teacher looked at his two students.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." He waited for the two to follow his instruction before continuing. "Welcome to Telphe. This is the landing field." He gestured to the large field, with a couple of other ships tied down around it.

"Over there, is our tower. That is where we're heading now. As long as you two remain students, you will live there in the tower. Once you've completed your studies, you'll be relocated to another place, depending on what job you've been assigned." The man had pointed to the larger peak central to the city. To get there, the trio was going to have to cross a bridge and then climb upwards a bit.

Gesturing for the two to follow, the teacher started off towards the large building.

Weeks had passed, months. Vincent had been on the misty mountain top longer than he could remember. Everyday he would meet his peers and instructer and everyday he'd go to bed more drained and less confident than before. There was something he was missing. Sure, he could hear the music, he could see the waving threads, but he could tug and and manipulate all he wanted; it never stuck. His instructer was a kind person, always incouraging but never the less agreed that something just wasn't working.

Could it have been a mistake? Was he determined to be an Air elemental after all?

It was a dark night, further down the mountain where the wild beasts roamed the rain was starting and the mist was thicker than ever. Some of the jungle like growth further down the mountain was creeping up and the air was more humid than before, but still cool.

Vincent sat alone in his small room, a large canvas drawn back from the small, crawl though entrance. It was at the top of a large cave complex that required the use of ladders and a pulley system to get home. At first the higth had bothered him, but after he exausted his mind trying to work the wind and sky everyday, it became old hat. He tried not to look down too often and he seemed to be okay.

His hair was down and stuck to his back. It never dried... the air never let up for a minute. Sure, other mages could create a cool or warm breeze to blow though their rooms and homes as they slept but Vincent never could. Hot air, slow, sluggish hot air. Yeah, he was good at that. Always when he slept it warmed up to a feverish pitch until he woke. Even his instructer couldn't sort it out. He shivered as a cool breeze blew from the entrance and hit his super heated skin.

This wasn't working. This life wasn't working. He'd tried to change, he thought he had. He'd made friends, but no one really had any other dreams than becomeing a great mage to fight in some pointless war. Vincent didn't believe in wars. It was contray to his mostly pesimistic view of humanity, but war was an evil thing. People died for stupid reasons and he wanted no part of war, or really, the people how participated in it.
The moon was nearly full and a soft blue glow lit his cave opening.
He sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

You want some angst with your cereal, a*****e?

He thought back on his plan he'd been thinking about for weeks now, never able to make himself impliment it. Slowley he crawled from his nest of blankets and down and crawled over to a trunk at the back of the cave. Slowly he extracted some very un-robe like clothes he had bought off of a traveling caravan. The student robes never really appealed to him. The clothing was plain; dark brown cotton trousers and a neatly stiched long tunic with a stylized pattern of clouds around the sleeves and hem. He pulled on a seperate sleeve that came up to his upper arms and dressed in the rest of the clothing. Once he work the cave had started to cool rapidly but he ignored his small hearth, the vent going up though the roof of the cave though a natural hole.

He stuffed his meager belongings into a canvas pack and sighed. Beside hsi hearth was a loaf of bread and several bits of food he'd been drying to keep. He wrapped those and put them in his pack as well. He neatly rolled up his grass and down woven mat with it's thin blanket and tied it on top of his belongings. All that was left were some useless books and his pillow. He glanced around then set his belongings down. Someone might care... at least he hoped they would. A small box next to his chest acted as a desk. He opend it's one small drawer and peeled a piece of paparus paper from the stack. He uncorked his berry ink and sat for a long time before penning a very short message down and laying it atop his pillow.

When he didn't come down for breakfast someone would come to check on him. He crouched by the exit and took one last look around at his humble home. He frowned as he saw the cuff of his robes peek out of it's trunk then he turned, and with a practiced slide left his home and quietly scurried down the damp steps to the pulley basket. It was wide and shallow, enough for two, perhaps three people to crouch upon it to get to the upper levels. Only the students usually used it for the more trained indivuidals could levitate up the side of the mountain itself. He let himself down quickly; the ropes creaked less that way and he slid down the ladders faster than he ever did for class. He skirted the large fields an the tables in which people were known to stay up all night talking and enjoying the air, even if it was that wet. He didn't want to inadvertantly step on someone to wake them up, either.

He took the back way towards the low entrance. It was filled with small, shakey bridges and rickety ladders and pulleys. He was so consumed with the thought of leaving he didn't stop to think about how this would normally shake him. Down and down, small slopes with the ocassional step. Twenty minutes later, the moon fighting to burn though the mist, he would see the great gate for the lower passage. A place that only traders and diplomats ever entered and exited from. There were guards, always, and a large wall circling the moutain, but only to keep people out. The air mages were welcome to come and go as the pleased...withing reason. They always had to have a suitable reason. Vincent didn't feel that he did. He skirted along the wall, signs of growth from below peaking though, and the air was heavier. He wasn't used to going down. Only up.

On the other side of the wall was only overgrowth and jungle. Wild jungle. Vincent felt secure enough in his ablities to protect him, but only to a point; he fingered the knife, also bought from the nice traders, he had stuck in his belt. It would work.

With a quick glance around he mounted the wall, the crude brick giving enough texture for his soft boots to cling to. Using as little of his powers as he could to make himself lighter, he scrambled over the wall and jumped over to the wild side, his landing muffled by the soft moss growing over the stones. It was hotter already. Sighing he tied back his hair with a stray piece of cloth, and knife in hand, ventured into the dark jungle, the moon bearly lighting the way though the canopy and fog.

Removed Pending Discussion.

-Tara (Gaia-chan... All children come from Nandin)

This was a really stupid idea and Vincent knew it. Exceptionally stupid, in fact. He wondered about the velvet darkness, his eyes having nothing but the smallest slivers of moon to light his way. He tried to move as quietly as he could, feeling his way. The adrienaline high that had brought him so many kilos away had now exausted him and he just felt rather asanine. Morning was near and a storm was coming. He could feel the shifts in the weather patterens very well; it surprised him.
Normally it took a vast amount of concentration and more than a little irritated proding from his professor to see anything farther than a few kilos away, but he felt the wind shifts and the pressure drop and that strange taste in his mouth that lightning always brought, but it was still hours away, several kilos. The storms were always below Telphe and he could watch them from above as the eletrical storms flicked around them and warm drifts floated up; it was a wonderful sensation.
Vincent looked up and listened to the rustle of the trees. He wasn't above the storm anymore.
His tunic was wet from the humidity and sweat and his hair clung to his face and neck. He was panting and tired and somewhat euphoric. He'd escaped and left such a dour existance behind. He was a free man if he lived though it. It was a jungle and a storm and an inexperienced man with no real talent and a queer outlook on life.
He didn't want to go back, though.
"I'd rather die in this bloody jungle than kill for your sensless war." He surprised himself by saying aloud. He shivered then started running again. A few more kilos...wait for daylight; then you can rest. You're just food for the beasties if you fall asleep now.
He ran off and on for another few hours until the jungle around him began to lighten and the thunder rumbled in the distance. It was gaining fast; no man could out run a piece of art like that.
Maybe he could find a place to wait out the storm...

The rain began softly, bouncing off of the high canopy and turning into a mist below. Vincent searched frantically, worried about the lighting. Lighting struck trees...he was surrounded by trees. But then again, lighting struck the tallest thing in the area, and Vincent couldn't really see above the leaves.
He rain was heavier and the sound almost deafening as it pittered on the forest ceiling and the thunder boomed. Though sheer luck Vincent found a hollowed out tree trunk and crouched inside the entrance. He hoped and animal didn't live in there. He glanced around, worried, then sent a burst of hot air though the trunk to see if anything ran out. He waited, and nothing happened but a cascade of water from the shaken boughs. It might be safe. He crawled inside and curled up. It was rather cool in the hollow trunk. He dug around in his pack and pulled out some of the food he brought. It was squished and mishappen from the jouncing about, but he ate with gusto. There was fruit and other edibles in the forest... he wouldn't starve. But he quite needed to get out of this place.
He knew the trader road ran in a gentle spiral around the mountain and if he just kept heading down he might eventually run into it.
One took for granted the size of the mountain when they lived on the secluded peak.
The air was heavy and the rain lulling. He fought sleep the best he could, but it eventually overtook him. His hand was still curled around the grip of his knife.