Post by Branowen O'Floinn on Sept 23, 2010 2:14:58 GMT
Branowen sat at her desk in the Palace library. Her gaze intent on the quill before her she idly wondered how difficult could it be to move sigh a small object with magic. For her, it would appear to be very difficult.
Focusing on the quill for the umpteenth time that day Branowen forced her magic out. She could almost see the invisible hands that were her magic reaching out and brush the quill. This was the most she could seem to get it to do. Even when she tried with all her might to force the magical hands to push the quill across the desk, to move it one way or the other all the quill would do was tremble. A quivering was the only response she got, along with an increase in the throbbing in Branowen's mind.
With a sigh she sat back in her chair and glared at the quill. Her head was pounding and she had only been practicing for fifteen minutes. Rubbing her temples the Irish woman placed her head on the table with an exasperated sigh. Why couldn't this whole thing just be simpler?
Deciding to go back to her work, Branowen started shifting through the papers on her desk and accidentally knocked the quill to the edge of her desk and out of her reach. It went unnoticed by the red head who sorted her items into a pile and started to work on them.
Her mind was still turning as she vies the papers, magic still active in her mind. Her hand blindly reached out for her quill. Magical hands became an extension of her being, reaching where her hands could not and moving the quill across the hard surface of the desk to greet her fingers. Branowen sat with the quill poised to sign her name.
There was a moment of silence as she stared at the object in her hand, her mind turning with what had just happened. Her magic had just moved something more then a few millimetre! There was a moment in which Branowen rejoiced before the attempted to repeat the task.
Nothing happened besides the throbbing pain in her mind.
Branowen paused for a moment to assess her previous success. She hadn't focused on moving the object, the magic had just flowed. The magic bent with her, moving to help her and as an extension of her self.
Taking a deep breath Branowen let the magic flow from her mind, and focused on the small stack of papers on her desks. This time instead of focusing solely on moving the magic, Branowen allowed the magic to move the papers on its own. Low and behold the papers lifted off the desk a few centimetres and slid through the air to rest in front of her.
A squeal of joy left her lips as Branowen stood up from her chair with her arms raised above her head. The two other people in the library who had been reading turned to stare. While she normally would have blushed and scuttled out of the room, this time she just beamed over to the two and sat herself back down humming a light tune to herself.
If she could move the papers maybe she could open her desk drawer? She repeated her previous actions this time with the thick desk drawer. Nothing happened. Despite this sh4e just reached out her hand and opened the drawer, pulling out an ink bottle and setting it on the desk. Baby steps, Branowen though to herself. It will all come in time.
Focusing on the quill for the umpteenth time that day Branowen forced her magic out. She could almost see the invisible hands that were her magic reaching out and brush the quill. This was the most she could seem to get it to do. Even when she tried with all her might to force the magical hands to push the quill across the desk, to move it one way or the other all the quill would do was tremble. A quivering was the only response she got, along with an increase in the throbbing in Branowen's mind.
With a sigh she sat back in her chair and glared at the quill. Her head was pounding and she had only been practicing for fifteen minutes. Rubbing her temples the Irish woman placed her head on the table with an exasperated sigh. Why couldn't this whole thing just be simpler?
Deciding to go back to her work, Branowen started shifting through the papers on her desk and accidentally knocked the quill to the edge of her desk and out of her reach. It went unnoticed by the red head who sorted her items into a pile and started to work on them.
Her mind was still turning as she vies the papers, magic still active in her mind. Her hand blindly reached out for her quill. Magical hands became an extension of her being, reaching where her hands could not and moving the quill across the hard surface of the desk to greet her fingers. Branowen sat with the quill poised to sign her name.
There was a moment of silence as she stared at the object in her hand, her mind turning with what had just happened. Her magic had just moved something more then a few millimetre! There was a moment in which Branowen rejoiced before the attempted to repeat the task.
Nothing happened besides the throbbing pain in her mind.
Branowen paused for a moment to assess her previous success. She hadn't focused on moving the object, the magic had just flowed. The magic bent with her, moving to help her and as an extension of her self.
Taking a deep breath Branowen let the magic flow from her mind, and focused on the small stack of papers on her desks. This time instead of focusing solely on moving the magic, Branowen allowed the magic to move the papers on its own. Low and behold the papers lifted off the desk a few centimetres and slid through the air to rest in front of her.
A squeal of joy left her lips as Branowen stood up from her chair with her arms raised above her head. The two other people in the library who had been reading turned to stare. While she normally would have blushed and scuttled out of the room, this time she just beamed over to the two and sat herself back down humming a light tune to herself.
If she could move the papers maybe she could open her desk drawer? She repeated her previous actions this time with the thick desk drawer. Nothing happened. Despite this sh4e just reached out her hand and opened the drawer, pulling out an ink bottle and setting it on the desk. Baby steps, Branowen though to herself. It will all come in time.
