Fruition, Frustration, Fear

[Kit Heron]

Kit crawled into bed, managing not to make any loud noises to wake up his bunk mates. There wasn't a chance he had been able to sneak back into the Hall without being noticed, and he wondered if he would be questioned about this. He supposed he should expect it, anyway, and perhaps think of something that he could say that would sound plausible and real. It was a shame he was such a terrible liar.

It was only a few hours until dawn, and despite being a long, eventful day, he was not tired at all. His body was coursing with nervous energy as he went over the events of the night, and what consequences might follow.

Forcing his eyes closed, Kit saw himself lash out his hand, a flash of light and an arrow being sent spinning off into the darkness. He saw the tall Elf charge them with a blade in his hand. He saw the shadow figure drop from the rooftop and save them. That was the one Helo wouldn't talk about, but Kit was not stupid. That must be Helo's boss, and from the way she handled herself, Kit felt a tinge of fear. Yes, she might have saved their lives, but he had sensed Helo's apprehension whenever he had spoken of her, and Kit now wondered what would happen now that he was 'known' to her, as Helo had assured him she did not.

Had he lied?

It was a disturbing thought, but he also was completely sure that his friend had nothing but good intentions when it came to their friendship. That wasn't just wishful thinking; Kit had never felt anything from Helo amidst the waves of emotions that he 'sensed' when they had spoken. He didn't believe Helo would put him in harms way. After all, it had been Kit himself who had decided to intercede when the plan had gone sideways.

The magic ...

Lighting a candle, Kit pulled out his journal and began to write, as he knew he wouldn't sleep and wanted to express himself somehow.

'It is frustrating to be in a position where the strength of my magic comes, not from a place of study and intellectual control, but from emotions. My use of telekinesis has thus far only been of any significance when I am in a great deal of pain (such as when I imbibed a strange substance which causing my body to seize), or when something extreme is to happen, like a threat on my life or that of another person.

Using the threads I 'see', I am able to use my powers to move objects. I do this just as one would use a pulley system. Let's say, for example, I want to use my mind to lift a nail from the floor. I simply look at the threads that are attached to the nail (and the nail will be connected to anything and everything around it), then use one of these that is connected to something much heavier (let's say the roof, as I will want the nail to upwards, so I have to find something that is above the nail), then I manipulate that thread, pulling on it to make it rise. If I want the nail to turn, I pull from a different source to turn it in that direction. The more I want the nail to do, the more threads I have to manipulate.

And yet, I do not feel as if I do any of this when I have these 'bursts' of power that have resulting me shaking whole rooms, throwing people to the ground, deflecting incoming projectiles. My only working theory is that instinct takes over due to external stressors, making the above process happen faster than conscious mind can achieve. While this is useful in some situations (deflecting an arrow that would have killed my friend was an amazing thing to be able to do) at other times it can cause a lot of trouble.

In order to achieve great feats of telekinesis, I must practice - perhaps for years - in order to make something happen, something bigger than a floating nail.'

Closing his journal, Kit lay back on his bunk and stared upwards. His head was still hurting, and though it wasn't enough to go seek out a herbal tea from the cook, it was enough to ensure he would get no rest. So he lay with his thoughts, wondering what the dawn would bring, and if his place here at the East Hall would be put on unsteady terrain if he did not manage to pull off a convincing excuse for his odd behaviour.