Taking Inventory 1

Elder Firche considered himself fairly fit for his station. He didn't have the pot belly characteristic of his predecessors, and he was still fairly young, yet he found himself falling behind and gasping for breath as he followed the Arboreal Maiden.

The Arboreal Maiden seemed to be in a rush.

"My lady! Would you mind slowing down a smidge for me? I simply cannot match your speed and endurance."

"I am afraid I will instead have to authorize you to use split to keep up, Merchant. The boy has woken up far faster than either the Great Csillacra or I had anticipated." She herself had started to carry her staff with both hands. "He shouldn't hurt himself, but it is my duty to teach them the basics of split."

"Would another teacher not be better? I mean no disrespect my lady but your efforts would best be focused elsewhere."

"The Great Csillacra can take care of itself for a few weeks without me, it has no plans of creating another planet anytime soon."

"I was referring to duties more administrative and ceremonial in nature, but you have made it clear your priorities will not change."

- - - - -

Don wanted to say it was bright, but he could tell that whatever was provoking that sensation around his eyes was not light. He could very clearly see that the level of light was the same as it was before he closed them.

The biggest hint that it wasn't light making him nauseous was the fact that when he covered his closed eyes with his hands, it didn't go away.

Possibly the worst part was that the pain, more like irritation, was not actually located in his eyes. His retinas were completely fine. It was the area around his eyes that hurt, specifically the areas below his eyes and slightly outward on his face, the area where his cheekbone met with his eye socket.

Rolling to his side in order to try and stand up, he recalled the Arboreal Maiden's instruction to stay put, so he opted to only sit instead.

It was still his instinct to squint, even though it did not help at all. At this point he had realized that he was 'seeing' split, he wasn't so dumb as to forget the reason they were here, but he couldn't yet tell if there was a large amount of it or if this new sense was just raw, like a fresh patch of skin.

He figured that both were possible. In a way he was like a newborn baby. Up to this point he had not even had the chance to open his 'eyes', much less see light with them.

With his arms back at an angle to support his somewhat awkward posture, Don started to play with the split the Great Csillacra had left for him. He was putting some of it into that core thing as he was told, but he was also trying to shape it. A sphere was easy enough, just push on it equally from all sides and it would eventually take that shape.

Making a cube proved to be a bit harder.

He couldn't just imagine pressing with flat edges like he thought he might be able to. It resulted in something with six distinct edges, sure, but the faces were all bulging out. Clearly he would need to change how much pressure he was putting on different parts of the faces, but he hadn't yet figured out just how he could do that.

This wasn't exactly an intuitive process either, at least not yet. Maybe it was because he hadn't actually had the opportunity to flex whatever muscle-like organ was responsible for these changes. Maybe it was because it was still growing. Maybe there were some things that just weren't possible, and he was partaking in a fruitless endeavor.

But Don found this was kind of fun.

More than just taking his attention away from the dizzying sensation, it was like he was playing with a toy. His very own bit of sculptor's clay that he could shape to his will, granted he could figure out how.

To test creating a pressure differential, he once again started with a sphere. His first goal was to make the sphere imperfect, more ovular or otherwise misshapen.

He tried pressing harder, which only made the sphere smaller.

He tried pushing in a different direction, which only made it spin.

He tried pulling outward, which only made the sphere larger.

It was only when he tried REALLY hard to localize the forces did he notice a change, a small indent on the surface that lasted only a moment before it returned to its original shape. Several attempts at recreating that event passed before he could do it again.

Once he got to the point where he could do it consistently, he marveled at how the reaction could cause small ripples in the surface if done fast enough. It was like a liquid punching bag.

Slowly he began to be able to keep the small indentation for longer and longer periods of time, leading him to the conclusion that there must be some form of muscle-like tissue involved with it. Further evidence of this was provided in the form of it getting harder to sustain. It wasn't weakening, whatever it was, but it was starting to hurt to use.

Had the Great Csillacra mentioned this would happen?

Was Donovan trying to run before he could even walk?

Would an injury at this point be detrimental to his growth in the future?

He didn't want to chance it, so he decided to open his eyes and look for Diana. Maybe they could share what they learned about how to work with split. The sensation was bearable at this point, he wasn't squinting or blinking when he opened his eyes, but it was a bit disorienting when he looked around.

It was like there was a brand new set of colors he could see but didn't recognize.