[CC] Radiant Training \ Zhongli - Red-Robin

Red-Robin

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I will be conducting this training using my Zhongli Surgebinder biography. Thank you for overseeing this with me. I really appreciate it. 🙏

As far as the format we take on for the training, I'm entirely open to either, or a combination of both even as you see fit and as it is convenient. I'm always open to roleplay, but I can understand that at times it's not always the easiest thing to detail out the uses, pros and cons of a particular technique in training context, so I'll gladly work with whatever flows best for you.
 

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Alright. The training scenario will be set in Avalon, but not as in the home of the Radiant Order. The realm where Merlin went into exile, a place that's been connected to the Throne and remains isolated from other Reality Marbles. You'll be trained by Merlin himself, and it'll be primarily in-character training, with OOC deviations if need be.




The isle of Avalon resembled a wonderful paradise, an endless expanse of grassy prairie and dancing flowers. Its days are of spring's sunshine and summer's smell, whilst the night is wrapped in autumn's air and winter's stars. In the distance, forests and hills can be observed, but there was not a single sign of human civilisation, whether a small village or a sprawling city. A land which truly belonged to the fairies. It was spoken of in tales and legends, in whispers and murmurs speculating its existence, by many of Camelot's citizens. The city that would serve as home to the Radiant Order, and an effective resurrection of Camelot, would be named after the fabled realm. However, being that it is connected to the Throne, it is naturally an extension of the dimension, filled with the energy known as Prana as a result of Galahad's machinations. Merlin's ability to hide himself proved greater than the Radiant Grandmaster had anticipated, and so he gave up searching for the incubus in favour of more practical pursuits. But now, he had put another up to the task, in the hopes that the former Court Magus to Artoria Pendragon would tutor them in the usage of Prana. That person would search the fields of the land forbidden to ordinary humans and beasts, and find themselves at the foot of the Tower of Avalon. The stone bricks that composed the great structure, in which the only openings were the windows near its peak, morphed to allow Zhongli's entrance, creating an opening which led into a spiralling staircase. At its top, the Listener would find himself in an open room, naturally lit by the rays of the sun peering through the barred windows, with Merlin sitting at its edge. Unaware of the stranger's presence in Avalon, let alone near his Tower, he would continue to sit quietly, in the same state he had been in since his arrival.​
 

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Alright. The training scenario will be set in Avalon, but not as in the home of the Radiant Order. The realm where Merlin went into exile, a place that's been connected to the Throne and remains isolated from other Reality Marbles. You'll be trained by Merlin himself, and it'll be primarily in-character training, with OOC deviations if need be.





The isle of Avalon resembled a wonderful paradise, an endless expanse of grassy prairie and dancing flowers. Its days are of spring's sunshine and summer's smell, whilst the night is wrapped in autumn's air and winter's stars. In the distance, forests and hills can be observed, but there was not a single sign of human civilisation, whether a small village or a sprawling city. A land which truly belonged to the fairies. It was spoken of in tales and legends, in whispers and murmurs speculating its existence, by many of Camelot's citizens. The city that would serve as home to the Radiant Order, and an effective resurrection of Camelot, would be named after the fabled realm. However, being that it is connected to the Throne, it is naturally an extension of the dimension, filled with the energy known as Prana as a result of Galahad's machinations. Merlin's ability to hide himself proved greater than the Radiant Grandmaster had anticipated, and so he gave up searching for the incubus in favour of more practical pursuits. But now, he had put another up to the task, in the hopes that the former Court Magus to Artoria Pendragon would tutor them in the usage of Prana. That person would search the fields of the land forbidden to ordinary humans and beasts, and find themselves at the foot of the Tower of Avalon. The stone bricks that composed the great structure, in which the only openings were the windows near its peak, morphed to allow Zhongli's entrance, creating an opening which led into a spiralling staircase. At its top, the Listener would find himself in an open room, naturally lit by the rays of the sun peering through the barred windows, with Merlin sitting at its edge. Unaware of the stranger's presence in Avalon, let alone near his Tower, he would continue to sit quietly, in the same state he had been in since his arrival.​
Sounds good. I look forward to your tutelage on the subject. 🙏




It had been several hundred years since his "first arrival" into the world known as The Throne. He remembered it quite vividly, as it were but a mere reflection of a handful of years ago to his own perception. It was a strange scale of time; it took many lived years of experience to truly grasp the shift of time in his mind. To sleep and awaken to an entirely new world; one that has either become greater or lesser as a consequence of time's course. Perhaps he could freeze the clock, but Mother Time is eternal and quite impatient. If he would not act, then the world would move on without him. In the approaching age of Gods and Men, his choices were finite and time was something he could take lightly no longer.

In the era of Chungsu, cultural prosperity was rampant; nearly delinquent in it's freedoms. A Great Library had been constructed, standing as the heart of the known world's gathering hub for texts of various forms. This gathering of wealth and knowledge has opened up the potential for scholars and excited, keen minds to traverse the continents from all directions to pursue the depths of the intellectual wealth that had begun to accumulate in Chungsu. For someone such as "The Listener," these opportunities were precious few and far between. The world had set a new stage for him that he might relish without restraint. And in fact, perhaps he might discover something that he had been anxious to find for many years now.. Prana now coursed through his veins as intently as his natural-born chakra, but despite all his best efforts to hone it's manipulation, Zhongli lacked the crucial foundations that would lay the groundwork for his understanding of this energy source. Many long months he would remain in The Throne, often times meditating on idle thoughts of where he might find the means to understand what was quite literally at his fingertips. Truly he was not the only one to have been blessed with The Throne's gift, yet so few similar to him were neigh impossible to pinpoint. He felt.. isolated. Partially due to his own choices; relying on stasis as a means to reset ones life every few hundred years
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was bound to result in a lonely outcome. But in truth, this did not bother Zhongli. Rather he saw it as a means to remain independent, at least for awhile, to draw upon his own conclusions and perspectives of The Throne, as well of the world he would live in outside of it.

Whilst exploring the bustling streets and piers of Chungsu, Zhongli wasted not a whisper to the wind. Every rumor, tale, legend, myth.. One might be surprised in the number of truths that can be found among the embellishments of the world's greatest pastime of storytelling. While the words spoken may shift among their varying dialects, resulting in poorly attributed translations and thus the loss or compromising of details that may seem quite important to a particular tale, what never fails to be told properly in every story is the tragedy of each. It was the most easily relatable aspect of any story; sympathy and empathy being powerful reactions that draws any into the depths of a tale well enough to remember it accurately for generations to come. While the rest of a story may melt away into different molds of it's telling, the tragedy remains. In one particular story, it tells of a lonely tower amid a vibrant garden, radiant in life as it readily gives birth to fairies who in turn tend to it's management. All while at the tower's peak, a single gaze looks upon the world from it's height, ever watchful but forever silent. This was the story of Avalon; or at least one of it's many tellings. But it was the only one that Zhongli had needed in order to align his course. The reclusive mage once the guide of one of the world's greatest heroes. Indeed, neigh impossible to find, for one who looks with their eyes.

The event was something of a pilgrimage; long and brimming with obstacles that challenged his resolve in his pursuit, yet after some time, Zhongli had found himself amid the garden of hills and mountains surrounding the tower, so vividly told yet never properly done justice. The man approached the tower's base, his hands tucked neatly behind him, held gingerly at the small of his back as he avidly inspected the construct with a keen eye. An air of familiarity came to The Listener as he wandered up the spiraling stairway to it's peak: The tower felt.. timeless, as if a moment frozen in time that could not move forward. Indeed it seemed as though it were built yesterday at a glance, yet one might tell the age of a place merely by the intensity of it's air; the richness of it's history practically permeating from the very stone. Zhongli found his footing at the top of the tower now, not so particular to hiding his presence or softening his step more than usual, as though indifferent to whether he'd be discovered before he had the opportunity to discover "him" first. Now he stood, facing a back decorated in long, wavy white hair that draped around a robed silhouette that peered out a window, as though waiting for something that would never truly arrive. Zhongli remained silent for a time, his curious gaze searching the spacious room they both now resided within, as though to take in it's every geometrical form, simply because he could. "You are a hard man to find indeed, Master Mage. I must say, you leave much to ones imagination when left with little but broken legends and forgotten stories to go off of. It is a wonder if you wish to be found, yet relish watching children scramble at riddles without answers in their attempts.. "
 

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The Magus of Flowers didn't turn to meet his visitor, his eyes instead fixed on the endless strait of the isle which served as his respite from the world. An eternal respite in an everdistant utopia. Zhongli's description of him was only partially accurate. There was naught left in the world for him to take joy in, save for the majesty of this blessed realm. A blessing he felt undeserving of. This was to be a prison for him, and in the years since his arrival it had fulfilled such a purpose. Until the far reaches of time came to their inevitable conclusion, it would remain so.

"Judging by your words, it seems you've spent some time searching for me, for this place." There was a long pause between what he had spoken and what he would say next. The question he dreaded to ask, for he knew its answer. On their own, it would be impossible for anybody to find Merlin, for only one man in the entire world had some idea of where to look for him. And even then, that man had no way to enter Avalon, and thus needed to employ his own powers to make the search possible. But beyond that, it was only a matter of time. A matter that, in the absence of a crusade to lead, he would have been happy to pursue. Regardless, a person stood before the Magus of Flowers, and would likely not be hand-waved into leaving. Not after such lengths were taken to find themselves where they were. For now, Merlin would entertain Zhongli, turning where he was seated to get a look at the one who had gone through such effort to find him. "Why?"
 

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The Magus of Flowers didn't turn to meet his visitor, his eyes instead fixed on the endless strait of the isle which served as his respite from the world. An eternal respite in an everdistant utopia. Zhongli's description of him was only partially accurate. There was naught left in the world for him to take joy in, save for the majesty of this blessed realm. A blessing he felt undeserving of. This was to be a prison for him, and in the years since his arrival it had fulfilled such a purpose. Until the far reaches of time came to their inevitable conclusion, it would remain so.

"Judging by your words, it seems you've spent some time searching for me, for this place." There was a long pause between what he had spoken and what he would say next. The question he dreaded to ask, for he knew its answer. On their own, it would be impossible for anybody to find Merlin, for only one man in the entire world had some idea of where to look for him. And even then, that man had no way to enter Avalon, and thus needed to employ his own powers to make the search possible. But beyond that, it was only a matter of time. A matter that, in the absence of a crusade to lead, he would have been happy to pursue. Regardless, a person stood before the Magus of Flowers, and would likely not be hand-waved into leaving. Not after such lengths were taken to find themselves where they were. For now, Merlin would entertain Zhongli, turning where he was seated to get a look at the one who had gone through such effort to find him. "Why?"
The Nomad seemed content with remaining as nonintrusive as possible while the resident of the tower seemed to gradually come to terms with his presence, be it either to recognize he was there or simply to determine whether he was a threat or not. Perhaps neither of the two were true, yet certainly little could be deciphered from the minimal words that had been exchanged thus far. Yet the Mage opted to focus on just that; working out at the very least that he had been searching for him for quite some time. Though Zhongli hadn't made an effort of hiding that particular fact, quite on the contrary, in fact, he seemed modestly surprised that he had in fact picked up on such minute details in his words. It was quite elementary, yet a basic level of observation that most people tended to lack, in his particular experience.

Much like Merlin himself, Zhongli seemed to reside comfortably in the temporary silence that came after the initial response was made. Rather than standing somewhat awkwardly at the top of the staircase, he opted instead to casually saunter forward in something of a crescent angle, avoiding a straight path toward the Mage, but rather curving off toward the edge of the room, at the side of his sitting position. Zhongli took his place near one of the other windows that copied the same as the one Merlin sat at himself, peering past it's bars to look upon the seamless horizon dawned by lush hills and rolling grasslands that seemed entirely picturesque, or perhaps illusionary... Either way, it pulled little of a visible creation from his features; rather he merely took a steady inhale through his nose before letting it out in a silent breath. It seemed that the air was refreshing to him in some way.

As he heard the single-worded question finally break through the silence that had set over the room, Zhongli had shifted his radiant amber irises toward the Mage. His gaze seemed inquisitive, yet careful and direct in it's attention. He seemed content to avoid a wandering eye, yet somehow still appeared as though he were searching for something in the mere eye contact that was made between the two. Unfolding his hands from behind his back, Zhongli had lifted both in front of him instead now, lightly massaging the palm of his right hand with the careful pressure of his left fingers and thumb; a seemingly insignificant detail, yet seemed to be a method of sorts for something particular to him that was not entirely obvious. "You presume that Sir Galahad sent me, no doubt? I do not blame you. Rest assured I've come with no quarrel for you or your solidarity, Master Mage. To be frank, I've come on rather selfish grounds, actually. " Zhongli began to explain, replicating the same thing that Merlin had done by allowing a momentary silence to break between his thoughts, as if to allow the words he had already spoken to settle into the air of the room before deciding to introduce more, his hands now returning to a place of idleness at his sides. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zhongli. I have heard a share of stories of your life; your exploits in history. I find that there are a great deal of commonalities that we share, or perhaps it would be more accurate to call them "convergences." I have been granted opportunity, by what you might know as The Throne, yet I lack the proper understanding of it's more technical machinations. I am hopeful that someone of your cumulative knowledge may be able to help me; point me in what directions I must go in order to properly hone this energy. " After his rather lengthy introduction seemed to lull to a careful close, another gap in minced words followed, albeit far more modest than the last, before he offered another remark, his tone carrying an air lesser of formality than his previous and more one of a casual comfort. ".. But, if I am to be truthful, I have come because I find myself fascinated by you. More specifically in your long life. When I consider the wealth of stories you no doubt sit upon in this tower, it brings me excitement, and sorrow to know they go without being told. A tale unspun is a lesson never made. Nations have risen and fallen to such untold lessons. I hope to listen, as much as I am able, to avoid such mistakes myself.. "
 

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As Merlin had surmised, Zhongli had sought him out for guidance on how to wield his gift, the power all Surgebinders were blessed with. Of course, he knew of its capabilities. Its power to defy logic, the power of Mystery itself. The incubus knew far better of his own exploits than Zhongli, obviously. Because of them, Merlin's eyes, once said to have gazed into the distant future, were now hopelessly fixed on the past. The more Zhongli spoke, the more the truthfulness of their words became apparent. There was some overlap between both himself and Merlin. Rather, who Merlin once was. A man seeking knowledge to better the future of mankind. To pursue a happy ending. How cruel, he mused internally. He was being made to look into an old mirror. An image of a man who once was. He turned his sight back towards the paradise that lay beyond the tower's confines, briefly recollecting his memories of Camelot. The great city, bustling with people. The Knights of Round. King Arthur.

"My my, there's quite a bit to you, isn't there?" Merlin stated playfully, almost as if mocking Zhongli's professed purpose. Being so caught up in his own thoughts, his internal world, he didn't see a hopeful man come to seek guidance from one who was essentially living history, but a painful reminder of his greatest failures. "I suppose I could give you what you seek. But if you know of my past, of Camelot's, even a shred of it, then you can gather why I am here, no?" he asked of Zhongli, his words bordering on passive aggression but softened by his naturally soothing voice. The incubus would not be easily convinced to assist him, though it was not entirely out of the question.
 

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As Merlin had surmised, Zhongli had sought him out for guidance on how to wield his gift, the power all Surgebinders were blessed with. Of course, he knew of its capabilities. Its power to defy logic, the power of Mystery itself. The incubus knew far better of his own exploits than Zhongli, obviously. Because of them, Merlin's eyes, once said to have gazed into the distant future, were now hopelessly fixed on the past. The more Zhongli spoke, the more the truthfulness of their words became apparent. There was some overlap between both himself and Merlin. Rather, who Merlin once was. A man seeking knowledge to better the future of mankind. To pursue a happy ending. How cruel, he mused internally. He was being made to look into an old mirror. An image of a man who once was. He turned his sight back towards the paradise that lay beyond the tower's confines, briefly recollecting his memories of Camelot. The great city, bustling with people. The Knights of Round. King Arthur.

"My my, there's quite a bit to you, isn't there?" Merlin stated playfully, almost as if mocking Zhongli's professed purpose. Being so caught up in his own thoughts, his internal world, he didn't see a hopeful man come to seek guidance from one who was essentially living history, but a painful reminder of his greatest failures. "I suppose I could give you what you seek. But if you know of my past, of Camelot's, even a shred of it, then you can gather why I am here, no?" he asked of Zhongli, his words bordering on passive aggression but softened by his naturally soothing voice. The incubus would not be easily convinced to assist him, though it was not entirely out of the question.
Zhongli had watched as the Mage looked from him back out the window he sat upon. A wistfulness was apparent upon his expressions, nearly
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covered entirely in what was likely a long since practiced composure, yet such subtle details were often difficult to keep hidden the moment the mind wanders, least even more against the studious attentiveness of a man that once practiced the brokering of contracts in generous depth. Immortal or no, someone that appeared as thoughtful as the man before him now could hardly be expected to avoid every glimpse that may be had of his state of mind.

Contently, Zhongli shifted to press the span of his shoulder blades against the wall that was now behind him, allowing for the weight of his posture to lax steadily into the structure. His arms rose to fold gingerly across his chest, his gaze hidden behind their lids for the moment; silence wrapped around him for a time before he'd find the words he'd opt to respond with. "If you did not wish for me to be here, then I would not be. As fine a world as this is, it lacks for one crucial element.. Even the spirits cannot go long without some sort of contact with the living, companionship of some form. Least of all a being such as yourself, I reckon. " Zhongli spoke rather cryptically, yet his choice of words seemed to imply the suggestion that Merlin would know well enough of what he meant. "You seem to watch but do not listen any longer, Master Mage. In this age Gods and Monsters, stories are ripe, legends are spoiled, myths are distilled in history. It is as you say, I may suspect why you are here, but I am a man of little patience for assumptions and conjectures. Too many plays have acted out upon the world stage on such things that I care not to repeat their arrogance, if it can be avoided. " He hummed rather steadily, his tone like a deep whisper that carried across the quiet air of the tower they both resided in. For better or worse, Zhongli seemed intent to narrowly dodge around Merlin's effort to fish out of Zhongli what he knew, precisely, about him. Instead, he merely lifted his gaze back in the Mage's direction, the sharpness of the red eyeliner that pulled to a narrow point toward his temples becoming quite easily apparent against the natural glimmer of the lighting that peered through the window he leaned beside.

"You are filled with regrets. Or perhaps it is more accurate to call them "nagging voices." You have rehearsed your own story many times in this tower of yours, yet you always dread the final act, as if you have not seen it before. You have sought penance in isolation, or perhaps something less poetic. " Zhongli lifted his head, allowing the back of his head to rest lightly along the cool stone behind him before moving to lift a single hand, a single outstretched finger, to tap gently at his temple in something of an ambiguous gesture. "These are all presumptions I may make but would fizzle into lightless sparks and fall upon deaf ears; they would amount to nothing. Would you not prefer to tell your own story, rather than have a stranger tell it to you? I find that I am a good listener. Or do you perhaps fear telling it too accurately, and would prefer my understanding of it remain unascertained? "
 

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A man most verbose, this Zhongli. A minor detail, as it were, but Merlin was not alone in the tower. In fact, upon arrival, he was greeted by a small creature which was both alluring and distinctly foreign. Though it wasn't present at this moment, it was no doubt somewhere within the solitary structure, serving as Merlin's only companion besides his own thoughts. The Magus of Flowers didn't see the point in mentioning such a thing, especially in light of the fact that Zhongli's understanding of his current circumstance was middling, to put it one way. If the man was steadfast in his wish to know more of his story, it would hardly trouble Merlin to recount it. What Zhongli would come to think of it hardly bothered him. He would remain confined within the tower for all of eternity.

Sighing quietly, Merlin mentally prepared himself for what would be a lesson in both history and ability. The secrets Zhongli wished to learn would be granted to him, and all their burdens would be his to bear. "That Galahad...he can be even more of a handful than that Arthur..." Standing from where he was seated at the edge of the room, his staff in hand, Merlin half turns to Zhongli, so as to address him "Come then. You've a lot of listening to do." Walking to the center of the room, he turns to face Zhongli once again, beckoning him to follow. "I'll teach you how to wield your gift. So long as you keep progressing, I'll tell you more of my story."
 

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A man most verbose, this Zhongli. A minor detail, as it were, but Merlin was not alone in the tower. In fact, upon arrival, he was greeted by a small creature which was both alluring and distinctly foreign. Though it wasn't present at this moment, it was no doubt somewhere within the solitary structure, serving as Merlin's only companion besides his own thoughts. The Magus of Flowers didn't see the point in mentioning such a thing, especially in light of the fact that Zhongli's understanding of his current circumstance was middling, to put it one way. If the man was steadfast in his wish to know more of his story, it would hardly trouble Merlin to recount it. What Zhongli would come to think of it hardly bothered him. He would remain confined within the tower for all of eternity.

Sighing quietly, Merlin mentally prepared himself for what would be a lesson in both history and ability. The secrets Zhongli wished to learn would be granted to him, and all their burdens would be his to bear. "That Galahad...he can be even more of a handful than that Arthur..." Standing from where he was seated at the edge of the room, his staff in hand, Merlin half turns to Zhongli, so as to address him "Come then. You've a lot of listening to do." Walking to the center of the room, he turns to face Zhongli once again, beckoning him to follow. "I'll teach you how to wield your gift. So long as you keep progressing, I'll tell you more of my story."
Zhongli could see the shift of patience seemingly dwindle upon the Mage's visage as his previous words became submerged in silence. Though Merlin seemed to shrug off his words, nor did he really take the time to confirm, nor deny them in any meaningful way. In Zhongli's eyes, that was something of a tell. At least to some degree that would keep him satisfied to leave the subject to rest where it was. He watched as the tower's resident moved nearer to the center of the room, only to turn and address him a moment after the fact, beckoning him along. In a eager yet steady manner, he pushed away from the wall with a gentle rock of his shoulders, bringing himself to a straightened standing once more before approaching the central part of the room as well, standing opposite of Merlin.

Before much else could be said, the man slowly folded an arm across his abdomen, the other remaining fixed at his side, wrist practically glued to his hip as he narrowly bowed toward the Mage. "You have my gratitude. I am at your call for the time being."
 

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Merlin blinked twice, surprised at the display of courtesy. Waving his hands at Zhongli, a sheepish smile curled on his lips. Though he was of great age, and previously of high standing in the court of King Arthur, Merlin was not a man of custom. It was too exhausting, having to be upstanding all the time. He'd already spent decades in the tower being solemn and silent. "No need for any of that." he said, assuring Zhongli that such etiquette was not expected.

Tapping his staff on the stone floor, a small column rose to Merlin's waist height, thick enough for one to place their entire hand on top of it. Merlin did so himself, tapping his index finger with each passing moment. The action seemed pointless, as if done for nothing more than the incubus' own amusement. But the column itself would serve as an instrument for their lesson, as Zhongli would see soon. "I know you already house Prana within yourself, but we should start from the basics. Especially since it is the case that you possess its gift, but know not how to use it. What do you know about Prana, and the Throne? Once we've established the fundamentals, we'll get onto the hands-on stuff." Merlin finished with a wink, teasing Zhongli with the promise of learning Prana's gifts.
 

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Merlin blinked twice, surprised at the display of courtesy. Waving his hands at Zhongli, a sheepish smile curled on his lips. Though he was of great age, and previously of high standing in the court of King Arthur, Merlin was not a man of custom. It was too exhausting, having to be upstanding all the time. He'd already spent decades in the tower being solemn and silent. "No need for any of that." he said, assuring Zhongli that such etiquette was not expected.

Tapping his staff on the stone floor, a small column rose to Merlin's waist height, thick enough for one to place their entire hand on top of it. Merlin did so himself, tapping his index finger with each passing moment. The action seemed pointless, as if done for nothing more than the incubus' own amusement. But the column itself would serve as an instrument for their lesson, as Zhongli would see soon. "I know you already house Prana within yourself, but we should start from the basics. Especially since it is the case that you possess its gift, but know not how to use it. What do you know about Prana, and the Throne? Once we've established the fundamentals, we'll get onto the hands-on stuff." Merlin finished with a wink, teasing Zhongli with the promise of learning Prana's gifts.
Zhongli maintained his angled posture for a time longer as Merlin aimed to dismiss the behavior as unnecessary, yet the man was something of a persistent sort. After a moment longer that bordered just before awkward, he finally straightened himself up, setting his gaze to the peculiar staff in Merlin's possession as he began to "set the stage" for the training he spoke of. "I.. apologize, if that was uncouth. I am not so familiar with what sort of customs and etiquette passes for proper these days. My intention was to offer respect, nothing more. " He wasn't sure whether or not he had done something wrong or not. In the age that he was from, it was common practice and in fact considered quite rude not to prostrate oneself before their seniors, especially to those who are providing a hefty favor or request. For now, the best he could think to do was focus entirely on the subject at hand, going forward, rather than idling on such things.

Zhongli watched as the pillar slowly rose from the ground, eyeing it's structure with something of a curiosity, even long past the point where the Mage began to layout the details of their initial training. After a moment, he moved to lift a hand, planting a lightly pinched index and thumb at the point of his chin, propping the arm by it's elbow inside the steadying palm of his other hand as he took a moment to consider his thoughts toward the question he was posed. "In truth, I know very little. Based on the observations I've made thus far, I suspect that The Throne is in fact separated from the physical world; isolated within it's own dimensional space purely structured by the energy known as Prana. The source of it's connection to our world lies in the omnipotent device known as The Grail, which presently lies in the possession of sir Galahad. This metaphysical construct allows for the gap between worlds to close. Or perhaps more accurately, to be passed through, like a bridge between landmasses. That very same bridge allows for the passage of Prana, supplied by The Throne into those who have been granted it's gift. What we call "Surgebinders," who upon receiving this gift, become mediums of passage as well. Beyond this, I'm afraid my understanding is quite lacking on the matters. " Zhongli lifted his amber gaze back to meet Merlin's own attention. He didn't seem to search for anything from the other; no reaction or need for approval or correction, but rather he simply waited patiently for him to proceed.
 

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Zhongli maintained his angled posture for a time longer as Merlin aimed to dismiss the behavior as unnecessary, yet the man was something of a persistent sort. After a moment longer that bordered just before awkward, he finally straightened himself up, setting his gaze to the peculiar staff in Merlin's possession as he began to "set the stage" for the training he spoke of. "I.. apologize, if that was uncouth. I am not so familiar with what sort of customs and etiquette passes for proper these days. My intention was to offer respect, nothing more. " He wasn't sure whether or not he had done something wrong or not. In the age that he was from, it was common practice and in fact considered quite rude not to prostrate oneself before their seniors, especially to those who are providing a hefty favor or request. For now, the best he could think to do was focus entirely on the subject at hand, going forward, rather than idling on such things.

Zhongli watched as the pillar slowly rose from the ground, eyeing it's structure with something of a curiosity, even long past the point where the Mage began to layout the details of their initial training. After a moment, he moved to lift a hand, planting a lightly pinched index and thumb at the point of his chin, propping the arm by it's elbow inside the steadying palm of his other hand as he took a moment to consider his thoughts toward the question he was posed. "In truth, I know very little. Based on the observations I've made thus far, I suspect that The Throne is in fact separated from the physical world; isolated within it's own dimensional space purely structured by the energy known as Prana. The source of it's connection to our world lies in the omnipotent device known as The Grail, which presently lies in the possession of sir Galahad. This metaphysical construct allows for the gap between worlds to close. Or perhaps more accurately, to be passed through, like a bridge between landmasses. That very same bridge allows for the passage of Prana, supplied by The Throne into those who have been granted it's gift. What we call "Surgebinders," who upon receiving this gift, become mediums of passage as well. Beyond this, I'm afraid my understanding is quite lacking on the matters. " Zhongli lifted his amber gaze back to meet Merlin's own attention. He didn't seem to search for anything from the other; no reaction or need for approval or correction, but rather he simply waited patiently for him to proceed.

It seemed Galahad didn't give Zhongli much to go on. Unsurprising, to be frank. The man was wholly dedicated to his cause, and there was little that could get in the way of that. He truly was a perfect knight. Regardless, the lack of extensive knowledge was no bother, for it was the purpose of learning to remedy such a thing. Nodding in affirmation of the knowledge Zhongli professed to having, Merlin spoke to build on it "That's all correct. Now, Prana itself is a bizarre phenomenon. You could call it the power of Mystery itself. It defies conventional logic. It crackles and seethes, but it's cold to the touch. Its uses vary greatly, as you'll learn, but we'll start by going over its most basic ones, and how it behaves when employed in such ways." Taking a moment to pause, allowing Zhongli to absorb and digest the information, he resumes his explanation. "The usage of Prana is divided into four separate categories, or methods, known as Surges. Evocation, Armament, Augmentation, and Transcendence. Surgebinders learn to use Prana in ascending order of these Surges, starting with Evocation, which allows one to manifest the raw, unrefined energy in the external world for a variety of basic purposes. In this state, Prana acts simply as a conduit to the Throne, instantly transporting whatever it touches. This includes techniques, objects, even the terrain itself. However, size matters. You cannot transport a mountain with a quantity of Prana that doesn't equal its size, at least. When Prana comes into contact with living things that aren't Surgebinders, the effects differ greatly. Depending on the quantity, Prana can induce anything from minor cold burns to frostbite, or even freeze them solid. However, if you use it on another Surgebinder, they'll simply be transported to the Throne."

Exhaling gently, the incubus had to hold before speaking further for his own sake. It had been a long time since he had spoken at length, let alone to another person. It would take a bit of getting used to. "That's all you need to know about Evocation for the moment. There's more to it, but information overload does no good for either of us." With that, Merlin waited to see if Zhongli had any thoughts or concerns about the information presented.




Gonna take a second to ask you some questions, answer these OOC.

1. When an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique clashes with an A-Rank (30 Chakra) technique, how much Chakra is left in the Prana technique?

2. What happens when an S-Rank (40 Chakra) sealing technique interacts with an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique?

3. If I split an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique into two pieces, how much Chakra is left in each piece?
 

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It seemed Galahad didn't give Zhongli much to go on. Unsurprising, to be frank. The man was wholly dedicated to his cause, and there was little that could get in the way of that. He truly was a perfect knight. Regardless, the lack of extensive knowledge was no bother, for it was the purpose of learning to remedy such a thing. Nodding in affirmation of the knowledge Zhongli professed to having, Merlin spoke to build on it "That's all correct. Now, Prana itself is a bizarre phenomenon. You could call it the power of Mystery itself. It defies conventional logic. It crackles and seethes, but it's cold to the touch. Its uses vary greatly, as you'll learn, but we'll start by going over its most basic ones, and how it behaves when employed in such ways." Taking a moment to pause, allowing Zhongli to absorb and digest the information, he resumes his explanation. "The usage of Prana is divided into four separate categories, or methods, known as Surges. Evocation, Armament, Augmentation, and Transcendence. Surgebinders learn to use Prana in ascending order of these Surges, starting with Evocation, which allows one to manifest the raw, unrefined energy in the external world for a variety of basic purposes. In this state, Prana acts simply as a conduit to the Throne, instantly transporting whatever it touches. This includes techniques, objects, even the terrain itself. However, size matters. You cannot transport a mountain with a quantity of Prana that doesn't equal its size, at least. When Prana comes into contact with living things that aren't Surgebinders, the effects differ greatly. Depending on the quantity, Prana can induce anything from minor cold burns to frostbite, or even freeze them solid. However, if you use it on another Surgebinder, they'll simply be transported to the Throne."

Exhaling gently, the incubus had to hold before speaking further for his own sake. It had been a long time since he had spoken at length, let alone to another person. It would take a bit of getting used to. "That's all you need to know about Evocation for the moment. There's more to it, but information overload does no good for either of us." With that, Merlin waited to see if Zhongli had any thoughts or concerns about the information presented.




Gonna take a second to ask you some questions, answer these OOC.

1. When an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique clashes with an A-Rank (30 Chakra) technique, how much Chakra is left in the Prana technique?

2. What happens when an S-Rank (40 Chakra) sealing technique interacts with an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique?

3. If I split an S-Rank (40 Chakra) Prana technique into two pieces, how much Chakra is left in each piece?
As Merin began to break down the details bare to him, it all seemed to flow rather naturally despite being quite the foreign subject to Zhongli. Something about particularly unusual information always functioned well within his mind compared to more conventional matters. Perhaps this was simply a causation of his natural fascination with knowledge; his everlasting pursuit of it something that always seemed to drive him to seek more and more of it. He seemed unperturbed by the amount of information being given, yet he was fully open to the logic the Mage offered: The last thing they needed was to begin spinning any wheels and getting nowhere fast by touching on too much too fast, so he happily settled in for the longer lecture.
"I see. Then that would explain why not just anything may enter The Throne. It is of a different world, yet it's structure being comprised of Prana leaves it to be quite lethal to those who are not familiar to the frigid touch of the energy. " Zhongli had slowly paced to the left, taking only a small handful of sauntering, steady steps before pivoting and doing more of the same back in the direction he had started. His hands had casually moved to connect to one another, fingers threading together as his thumbs slowly circled around each other in an idle gesture before returning his attention back to Merlin. "In a lot of respects, Prana is quite familiar to that of chakra itself, as I understand it: It's ratio of influence to scale is entirely represented by the amount of Prana being utilized on a near-to-exact one-to-one scale. One cannot expect to part the ocean with only strength enough to part a pond. It makes sense. "





  1. Prana is described as being entirely "neutral" to all elements, meaning it's disconnected from the standard strengths/weaknesses scale relative to how techniques clash, yet I would imagine that means that it's a 1-1 ratio of how things function in those clashes. So my interpretation would be that there is 10 chakra left in the 40 chakra technique to continue traveling after clashing against the 30-chakra technique, resulting in the reduction of it's base damage down to D-rank 20 damage, if I'm not mistaken.
  2. If I'm honest, I can't say that I know much in terms of Fuuinjutsu specifically, nor does the clan's submission post really explain any specifics (that I can see) with regards to how it's meant to interact with Fuuinjutsu, exactly. But, based on what little I do know about Fuuinjutsu, my guess would be that since nothing is directly explained about Prana and how it reacts to Fuuinjutsu or vise versa, it's chalked up to a standard interaction as though the seal is being used against any typical technique. With that being said, as far as I'm aware seals are capable of sealing a quantity of chakra in direct proportion to the amount of chakra used for the seal. A 40 chakra seal should be capable of sealing a 40 chakra Prana technique based on what I understand.
  3. Well, basic math says a divided 40 is 20/20; kind of like my hindsight when I think I'll come to realize that's not how it works in this particular case.. haha. Truth be told, I didn't realize "splitting" techniques at will was something that was allowed or possible unless directly specified in the technique and explained in how it functions as a result of doing so, but the best I can offer is that it would simply be 20 chakra to each, but I'm unsure what the damage scale would be relative to that. I'd imagine it'd be B-rank (40 damage), since B-rank techniques are generally 20 chakra cost themselves, as well the damage output of 2 B-ranks would (standardly) equal out to a single S-rank technique (80 damage), comparatively.
 
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As Merin began to break down the details bare to him, it all seemed to flow rather naturally despite being quite the foreign subject to Zhongli. Something about particularly unusual information always functioned well within his mind compared to more conventional matters. Perhaps this was simply a causation of his natural fascination with knowledge; his everlasting pursuit of it something that always seemed to drive him to seek more and more of it. He seemed unperturbed by the amount of information being given, yet he was fully open to the logic the Mage offered: The last thing they needed was to begin spinning any wheels and getting nowhere fast by touching on too much too fast, so he happily settled in for the longer lecture.
"I see. Then that would explain why not just anything may enter The Throne. It is of a different world, yet it's structure being comprised of Prana leaves it to be quite lethal to those who are not familiar to the frigid touch of the energy. " Zhongli had slowly paced to the left, taking only a small handful of sauntering, steady steps before pivoting and doing more of the same back in the direction he had started. His hands had casually moved to connect to one another, fingers threading together as his thumbs slowly circled around each other in an idle gesture before returning his attention back to Merlin. "In a lot of respects, Prana is quite familiar to that of chakra itself, as I understand it: It's ratio of influence to scale is entirely represented by the amount of Prana being utilized on a near-to-exact one-to-one scale. One cannot expect to part the ocean with only strength enough to part a pond. It makes sense. "





  1. Prana is described as being entirely "neutral" to all elements, meaning it's disconnected from the standard strengths/weaknesses scale relative to how techniques clash, yet I would imagine that means that it's a 1-1 ratio of how things function in those clashes. So my interpretation would be that there is 10 chakra left in the 40 chakra technique to continue traveling after clashing against the 30-chakra technique, resulting in the reduction of it's base damage down to D-rank 20 damage, if I'm not mistaken.
  2. If I'm honest, I can't say that I know much in terms of Fuuinjutsu specifically, nor does the clan's submission post really explain any specifics (that I can see) with regards to how it's meant to interact with Fuuinjutsu, exactly. But, based on what little I do know about Fuuinjutsu, my guess would be that since nothing is directly explained about Prana and how it reacts to Fuuinjutsu or vise versa, it's chalked up to a standard interaction as though the seal is being used against any typical technique. With that being said, as far as I'm aware seals are capable of sealing a quantity of chakra in direct proportion to the amount of chakra used for the seal. A 40 chakra seal should be capable of sealing a 40 chakra Prana technique based on what I understand.
  3. Well, basic math says a divided 40 is 20/20; kind of like my hindsight when I think I'll come to realize that's not how it works in this particular case.. haha. Truth be told, I didn't realize "splitting" techniques at will was something that was allowed or possible unless directly specified in the technique and explained in how it functions as a result of doing so, but the best I can offer is that it would simply be 20 chakra to each, but I'm unsure what the damage scale would be relative to that. I'd imagine it'd be B-rank (40 damage), since B-rank techniques are generally 20 chakra cost themselves, as well the damage output of 2 B-ranks would (standardly) equal out to a single S-rank technique (80 damage), comparatively.

Zhongli seemed to make sense of the information with ease, which was a good start. By now, he was ready to begin the practical part of the lesson; learning to manifest and wield Prana as a tool. "Good. Now, I want you to draw on that energy, pull it into the world. As you said, it is similar to chakra. You can shape it in any way you wish. Fashion weapons and armour out of it, or even conjure basic minions that follow your command. Then, I want you to touch this stone column with the Prana you've conjured. See for yourself how it works." Drawing his hand away from the stone, he awaits Zhongli's performance. If his aptitude for wielding Prana were to equal his way with words, then this would be a relatively smooth process.




I probably should've put those questions forward a little later, my bad. But they're things we can sort out now, no biggie.

1. So when using Prana to absorb a lesser technique, it doesn't expend or 'lose' chakra in the interaction. The Prana would still contain the full 40 points, and can continue absorbing techniques without issue. When it meets a technique of equal rank, so equal chakra, the Prana used to send it to the Throne is dispelled. Prana can send anything of equivalent or less chakra to the Throne successfully, but in the case of equivalent chakra, it goes away after the absorption. Prana techniques, at least, the ones falling under Evocation, don't carry numerical damage values. The only number you need to pay attention to is chakra. Its 'damaging' effects are miscellaneous in nature, e.g. frostbite and hypothermia, it doesn't detract from an opponent's HP.

2. Correct.

3. You're right, splitting an S-Rank Prana technique into two halves would produce pieces containing 20 chakra each. However, this calculation is unique to Prana. In conventional splitting, you go by rank. So, if I were to split an S-Rank Fire technique into equal halves, I'd get two A-Ranks, with 30 chakra and 60 damage each. Then if I were to further split those A-Ranks into equal halves, I'd get four B-Ranks, each with 20 chakra and 40 damage. So to summarise, with Prana, use actual math. With virtually everything else, you split by rank. I'd suggest consulting this post to see how normal splitting and 'strength' rules work: [x].
 
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Zhongli seemed to make sense of the information with ease, which was a good start. By now, he was ready to begin the practical part of the lesson; learning to manifest and wield Prana as a tool. "Good. Now, I want you to draw on that energy, pull it into the world. As you said, it is similar to chakra. You can shape it in any way you wish. Fashion weapons and armour out of it, or even conjure basic minions that follow your command. Then, I want you to touch this stone column with the Prana you've conjured. See for yourself how it works." Drawing his hand away from the stone, he awaits Zhongli's performance. If his aptitude for wielding Prana were to equal his way with words, then this would be a relatively smooth process.




I probably should've put those questions forward a little later, my bad. But they're things we can sort out now, no biggie.

1. So when using Prana to absorb a lesser technique, it doesn't expend or 'lose' chakra in the interaction. The Prana would still contain the full 40 points, and can continue absorbing techniques without issue. When it meets a technique of equal rank, so equal chakra, the Prana used to send it to the Throne is dispelled. Prana can send anything of equivalent or less chakra to the Throne successfully, but in the case of equivalent chakra, it goes away after the absorption. Prana techniques, at least, the ones falling under Evocation, don't carry numerical damage values. The only number you need to pay attention to is chakra. Its 'damaging' effects are miscellaneous in nature, e.g. frostbite and hypothermia, it doesn't detract from an opponent's HP.

2. Correct.

3. You're right, splitting an S-Rank Prana technique into two halves would produce pieces containing 20 chakra each. However, this calculation is unique to Prana. In conventional splitting, you go by rank. So, if I were to split an S-Rank Fire technique into equal halves, I'd get two A-Ranks, with 30 chakra and 60 damage each. Then if I were to further split those A-Ranks into equal halves, I'd get four B-Ranks, each with 20 chakra and 40 damage. So to summarise, with Prana, use actual math. With virtually everything else, you split by rank. I'd suggest consulting this post to see how normal splitting and 'strength' rules work: [x].
"Similar to chakra.. Mm.." That singular detail seemed to resonate with Zhongli, particularly well in fact. Something about it provided reassurance, in a way, to know that it had characteristics that allowed for him to more easily grasp the manipulation of Prana, at least conceptually. Now, he needed to apply those concepts; shape them into reality before the witness of the one he had sought out over what may have turned out to be the course of several years. Something he could not let go to waste.

For a time, he stood, quietly in place. He could feel the energy in question coursing through his veins. Though it was more familiar than it was at first, it was still quite stimulating. He could feel the electric sensation dance at his fingertips; a sensation that he had never truly managed to suppress properly. He lifted both of his hands, held out in front of him as he eyed his digits. He had never thought to simply "try" his hand at controlling the source of The Throne in such a casual manner. It wasn't as if the thought had never crossed his mind, but he couldn't help feeling as though he were.. unworthy of it. His mind has been forever shadowed by his pursuit for a life that did not pertain to the turmoil of his past. In doing so, he learned only to take advantage of The Throne, utilizing the state of stasis to enter prolonged slumbers to flee the ever changing -ever evolving- burden that is the inevitable bleakness of history-in-the-making. To only ever take, and never give, despite The Throne being no more and no less than a place between worlds, he still did not wish to show it disrespect.
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But now, he stood where he needed to be in order to justify it all. For better or worse, Merlin was a convenient motivator that gave Zhongli the excuse to utilize the Prana, if nothing else but by the justification that he was simply told to do so. Much like that of chakra, Zhongli opted to prioritize the familiarization of an image in his mind. He needed something.. a shape to cast; the Prana flowing through him from The Throne itself the substance and material that would take the shape of whatever mold he could make for it. Weapons, armors, even reflections of living beings.. It all seemed so useful, so specific and direct in their intent. Yet not a one seemed to cross his mind. Rather, a different form took shape in his mind. Once the image had been set, his eyes flowing rapidly behind their lids as if he were in a dreaming state, he'd finally raise a hand out in front of him with intent. He would first retract his fingers into his palm, slowly, ensuring the bend of each knuckle before gradually extending them outstretched once more. He focused on the intense sensation that danced at the tips of his fingers, drawing it carefully yet persistently forward. He thought of the process of drawing from ones chakra, reserves in very specific locations scattered throughout the body. Those same reserves existed for Prana, but instead of from his body specifically, it would come from The Throne; a place he has spent many, many long years; sleeping, waiting. A faint chill rushed between his fingers, a familiar frigidness that he had long since grown accustomed to and that he now knew to identify with the Prana itself. Golden speckles and flake-like shapes began to flutter about in front of him, flowing like a gentle, tamed gale of golden snowfall that refracted the natural lighting of the room eagerly like a rain of glitter. With light pulls at his fingers, Zhongli's eyes gradually opened at last. He looked upon the unrefined state of the manifested energy that now danced at his fingertips. His image had not been made, not yet. With his focus now intently fixed upon the flowing energy, clumps of the glittering flakes began to mold together, formulating into larger shapes before steadily taking form into what appeared to be.. characters? Glyphs? Certainly not kanji.. They were of a language that would seem unfamiliar to any who lived today, at least to the common eye. The glyphs began to swirl around Zhongli's position, flowing to as low as his knees, as high as over his own head and as far as mere inches apart from Merlin, though careful that none would directly connect with the Mage. After all, he himself was not a Surgebinder, so it stood to reason that the Prana would be less than hospitable to him. Something Zhongli would have to keep a careful note of at all times going forward.

His task was not done yet. Zhongli looked upon the pillar that Merlin had lifted from the ground so seamlessly before. He had the need to place what Prana he conjured upon the pedestal, with the presumed intent that it was meant to cause a reaction that could not be achieved otherwise. With a soft hum beneath a steady breath, Zhongli beckoned the characters to converge at the center of his extended palm, of which all began to reformulate into one larger creation. This time, as a single lotus flower that glimmered radiant-gold. Casually, he approached the pillar that Merin had created, moving to lay the flower directly center of it's top in a careful, gentle manner, treating the creation with the respect as though it were a true, living flower, not a manifestation of raw Prana from The Throne through him. Taking a single pace backward, he stood silently, waiting for the suspected "reaction" that the Mage hinted at to come.
 

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"Similar to chakra.. Mm.." That singular detail seemed to resonate with Zhongli, particularly well in fact. Something about it provided reassurance, in a way, to know that it had characteristics that allowed for him to more easily grasp the manipulation of Prana, at least conceptually. Now, he needed to apply those concepts; shape them into reality before the witness of the one he had sought out over what may have turned out to be the course of several years. Something he could not let go to waste.

For a time, he stood, quietly in place. He could feel the energy in question coursing through his veins. Though it was more familiar than it was at first, it was still quite stimulating. He could feel the electric sensation dance at his fingertips; a sensation that he had never truly managed to suppress properly. He lifted both of his hands, held out in front of him as he eyed his digits. He had never thought to simply "try" his hand at controlling the source of The Throne in such a casual manner. It wasn't as if the thought had never crossed his mind, but he couldn't help feeling as though he were.. unworthy of it. His mind has been forever shadowed by his pursuit for a life that did not pertain to the turmoil of his past. In doing so, he learned only to take advantage of The Throne, utilizing the state of stasis to enter prolonged slumbers to flee the ever changing -ever evolving- burden that is the inevitable bleakness of history-in-the-making. To only ever take, and never give, despite The Throne being no more and no less than a place between worlds, he still did not wish to show it disrespect.
You must be registered for see images

But now, he stood where he needed to be in order to justify it all. For better or worse, Merlin was a convenient motivator that gave Zhongli the excuse to utilize the Prana, if nothing else but by the justification that he was simply told to do so. Much like that of chakra, Zhongli opted to prioritize the familiarization of an image in his mind. He needed something.. a shape to cast; the Prana flowing through him from The Throne itself the substance and material that would take the shape of whatever mold he could make for it. Weapons, armors, even reflections of living beings.. It all seemed so useful, so specific and direct in their intent. Yet not a one seemed to cross his mind. Rather, a different form took shape in his mind. Once the image had been set, his eyes flowing rapidly behind their lids as if he were in a dreaming state, he'd finally raise a hand out in front of him with intent. He would first retract his fingers into his palm, slowly, ensuring the bend of each knuckle before gradually extending them outstretched once more. He focused on the intense sensation that danced at the tips of his fingers, drawing it carefully yet persistently forward. He thought of the process of drawing from ones chakra, reserves in very specific locations scattered throughout the body. Those same reserves existed for Prana, but instead of from his body specifically, it would come from The Throne; a place he has spent many, many long years; sleeping, waiting. A faint chill rushed between his fingers, a familiar frigidness that he had long since grown accustomed to and that he now knew to identify with the Prana itself. Golden speckles and flake-like shapes began to flutter about in front of him, flowing like a gentle, tamed gale of golden snowfall that refracted the natural lighting of the room eagerly like a rain of glitter. With light pulls at his fingers, Zhongli's eyes gradually opened at last. He looked upon the unrefined state of the manifested energy that now danced at his fingertips. His image had not been made, not yet. With his focus now intently fixed upon the flowing energy, clumps of the glittering flakes began to mold together, formulating into larger shapes before steadily taking form into what appeared to be.. characters? Glyphs? Certainly not kanji.. They were of a language that would seem unfamiliar to any who lived today, at least to the common eye. The glyphs began to swirl around Zhongli's position, flowing to as low as his knees, as high as over his own head and as far as mere inches apart from Merlin, though careful that none would directly connect with the Mage. After all, he himself was not a Surgebinder, so it stood to reason that the Prana would be less than hospitable to him. Something Zhongli would have to keep a careful note of at all times going forward.

His task was not done yet. Zhongli looked upon the pillar that Merlin had lifted from the ground so seamlessly before. He had the need to place what Prana he conjured upon the pedestal, with the presumed intent that it was meant to cause a reaction that could not be achieved otherwise. With a soft hum beneath a steady breath, Zhongli beckoned the characters to converge at the center of his extended palm, of which all began to reformulate into one larger creation. This time, as a single lotus flower that glimmered radiant-gold. Casually, he approached the pillar that Merin had created, moving to lay the flower directly center of it's top in a careful, gentle manner, treating the creation with the respect as though it were a true, living flower, not a manifestation of raw Prana from The Throne through him. Taking a single pace backward, he stood silently, waiting for the suspected "reaction" that the Mage hinted at to come.
Zhongli didn't spring into action, as Merlin had anticipated. Every movement, calculated. Deliberate. A man of utmost efficiency. It definitely suited him. While refreshing to speak to someone who was genuine, one who held utmost conviction, it was yet another reminder. The Magus of Flowers, too, was once such a man. His gaze fixed on the Prana Zhongli had called forth, he took note of its colour, and watched as the energy gently floated to rest atop the pillar of stone. It never stopped floating downward. The lotus continued to descend, engulfing the peak of the column momentarily and suddenly dissipating, alongside the stone that it had touched. "Well done. Now, I believe you've earned yourself a reward." the incubus remarked, cupping his chin with the index finger and thumb of his free hand, closing his eyes in contemplation. Zhongli wished to know his story, and so Merlin would oblige. But where to begin...

After some moments of pause, he made his decision. Tapping his staff on the ground, two stone chairs would rise behind both himself and Zhongli. Using his free hand to keep his hair proper as he sat down, Merlin motioned for Zhongli to take his seat. The situation was rather peculiar for him. Despite having come to this tower to isolate himself from others and the world, there was a small spark within him in this moment. Perhaps it was his a part of his true nature shining through. The man who was a troublemaker and relished in being the center of attention. It drew a smirk from the Magus of Flowers, who couldn't help but do so in realisation at the absurdity of his current circumstances. But regardless of how he felt, he had a story to tell "Let us speak of the King's tale." Though it was possible that such a declaration would confuse Zhongli who wished to learn of Merlin's story, who was obviously not a king, it would be clarified in time. The tale of King Arthur was as much about Merlin as Arthur himself, for the life of King Arthur and the country he ruled was both Merlin's greatest success and his greatest failure. There was no way more fitting than this. Placing an arm up on one of the chair's armrests, allowing his staff to rest in his bent elbow, Merlin rested his head on a closed fist, his knuckles burying themselves ever so slightly into his cheek.

"I was once the Court Magus of the kingdom of Camelot, serving Uther Pendragon. As both the King's advisor and one who dealt with all matters magical, I also bore the task of finding the one who would take the throne after Uther. Normally, that right falls to the crown prince; the King's son. For... certain reasons, that was not to be so in this case. The next King would be selected, through a test. Of course, I believed, knew, all along that it would indeed be the Uther's son, Arthur, that becomes his successor. When Arthur was born, I took him to be raised under the care of a knight that served under Uther, Sir Ector. Ector and his son, Kay, would be Arthur's foster family. He was raised to be a knight from birth, and in the year he turned fifteen, I placed the Sword of Selection, Caliburn, within a stone that lay just on the outskirts of town, in a grassy field. The one who would pull the sword from the stone would prove their right to the throne, to kingship. Many came, and tried, and failed. I knew all along that there was only one in all of the kingdom who would be able to draw that sword from the stone." With those words, Merlin's eyes broke their contact with Zhongli's, turning downward to the floor. For Merlin, it was not the hardship that Arthur had to endure, whether it was the loss of his friends, the betrayals he suffered, or the destruction of his kingdom, that caused him deep sorrow. Rather, the true tragedy in the tale was that there was no fate for Arthur other than that path. From the moment of his birth, that was his destiny. Without reasserting his gaze on Zhongli, Merlin continued. "Arthur found his way into town on that day, and went to the stone where there lay the Sword of Selection. Before he drew it, I warned him of the fate that would await him. That he would come to be hated by many people, and he would die a horrendous death. He did not shy away from it. He accepted it wholly, in fact. Because many were smiling, it wasn't the wrong path..." as he repeated Arthur's words back to himself, they began to drift slightly, as if he himself were becoming lost in his own memories. Though it had been a great many years since that day, it felt as if only yesterday to him. Blinking back into reality, Merlin straightened himself in his chair, facing Zhongli properly "Anyway, back to our lesson now. Are you ready?"




You've learned:

(Kanki: Kigen no Kamigami) – Surge of Evocation: Era of Gods
Type: Offensive/Defensive/Supplementary
Rank: D-S
Range: Short-Long
Chakra Cost: 10-40
Damage Points: N/A
Description: This technique encompasses the basic applications of the Surge of Evocation. The Surge of Evocation is the usage of Prana in its raw and unrefined form; whatever this Prana touches is transformed into ethereal energy and transported to the Throne. Prana will neutralize and be neutralized by techniques that possess the same amount of chakra. Similarly it will be useless against attacks of greater chakra and will not be weakened by techniques of lower chakra. However when used on living targets this ambient energy will feel extremely frigid to the touch and induce cold burns on contact or even freeze a target solid for higher ranked applications. D to B-Rank uses will inflict cold burns as well as all of the effects of frostbite. A-Rank uses will cause necrosis of the afflicted parts of the body, making them appear dark purple and bruised to signify the death of cells. Affected appendages and organs will cease to function, becoming completely immobile in the case of limbs. S rank uses will freeze the struck targets solid. In the case of Surgebinders, who are immune to all of the above effects, they will be transported to the Throne when struck by the prana of another member of their clan. Era of Gods can be split into three separate applications, all based on the same principle: constructs, armors, and familiars made of prana energy.

Pride of Gilgamesh – Gates of Babylon
The Pride of Gilgamesh allows the user to produce Prana either from the user’s body or on the battlefield. The Prana can only be manifested within short-range of the opponent if the user is also within that range, in which it must be created a minimum of one meter away. This restriction does not apply if the user chooses to release the Prana from their body, rather than manifest it away from themselves. The energy can be released from the body via various hand signs depending on the user's rank in the clan. This can be done to generate constructs bound only by the rank of technique used and one’s imagination; alternatively the user can simplify the application by creating streams, waves, and constructs of Prana. Manifested Prana is capable of taking solid form, granting tangibility at the user’s volition. Non-projectile uses of this technique are capable of levitating and can be governed through mental commands and a sustained chakra cost. B-Ranks and below are sustained through 5 chakra per turn, A-Ranks and above require 10 chakra per turn. Created constructs will last three turns per usage unless they are prematurely cancelled. S-Rank applications can only be used once every three turns and no Prana in the user’s next turn.

Embrace of Ishtar – Armory of Akkadia
This variant allows the user to manifest armors, auras, and coatings of Prana around their body. This can be used to enshroud a single or multiple body parts in a layer of colored energy. These defenses can be made to fit the body like conventional armors or enveloping it in a formless manner. The first type can be created with additional limbs and appendages such as wings which enable flight. The user can also constantly reshape it and create small-scale weapons from the body of the armor, though at the cost of one of the user's three moves. It should be noted that these constructs remain attached to the main body of the armor and so act as an extension of it. The second type generates a “flowing aura” that appears to flicker like an open flame. This aura is often made as an upwards column that is streamed into the sky with its base remaining around the user. It should be noted that its power is not split or divided as all of the Prana energy is part of one whole. The armors can exhibit tangibility, although this does not hinder the user’s techniques and their passing which can freely move in and out of the armor per the user’s will. B-Rank and below applications require being sustained with 5 chakra per turn while A and S Ranks require 10 chakra per turn. This technique can last a maximum of three turns. S-Rank applications can be used twice per battle. After an S-Rank application expires the user is unable to utilize Prana single turn.

Divinity of Merlin – Garden of Avalon
The Divinity of Merlin allows the user to produce Prana in the same way as the Pride of Gilgamesh and can be shaped in the same way, limited by rank and imagination. However, unlike the Pride of Gilgamesh which creates static constructs the Divinity of Merlin creates constructs imbued with a limited form of sentience – familiars. These familiars can be created anywhere on the battlefield, with the exception of short-range of the opponent unless the user is also within that range; in this case the familiar cannot be created within two meters of the opponent. This restriction does not apply if the user chooses to release the Prana from their body. Familiars are capable of taking numerous shapes, not simply limited to animals. These familiars are also capable of taking solid form at the user’s volition. Familiars are capable of remaining on the battlefield for four turns. B-Ranks and below are sustained through 5 chakra per turn, A-Ranks and above require 10 chakra per turn. S-Rank applications can only be used twice times per battle and no Prana in the user’s next turn.

Note: The upper echelon of the clan (Servants and above) are capable of using this technique without hand signs for B-rank and below. A-rank will require two hand signs and S-rank requires three.
Note: The lower tier clan members (Phantasms to Guardians) will require 5 to 3 hand seals for all ranks, decreasing as they they ascend in rank.
 
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Red-Robin

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Zhongli didn't spring into action, as Merlin had anticipated. Every movement, calculated. Deliberate. A man of utmost efficiency. It definitely suited him. While refreshing to speak to someone who was genuine, one who held utmost conviction, it was yet another reminder. The Magus of Flowers, too, was once such a man. His gaze fixed on the Prana Zhongli had called forth, he took note of its colour, and watched as the energy gently floated to rest atop the pillar of stone. It never stopped floating downward. The lotus continued to descend, engulfing the peak of the column momentarily and suddenly dissipating, alongside the stone that it had touched. "Well done. Now, I believe you've earned yourself a reward." the incubus remarked, cupping his chin with the index finger and thumb of his free hand, closing his eyes in contemplation. Zhongli wished to know his story, and so Merlin would oblige. But where to begin...

After some moments of pause, he made his decision. Tapping his staff on the ground, two stone chairs would rise behind both himself and Zhongli. Using his free hand to keep his hair proper as he sat down, Merlin motioned for Zhongli to take his seat. The situation was rather peculiar for him. Despite having come to this tower to isolate himself from others and the world, there was a small spark within him in this moment. Perhaps it was his a part of his true nature shining through. The man who was a troublemaker and relished in being the center of attention. It drew a smirk from the Magus of Flowers, who couldn't help but do so in realisation at the absurdity of his current circumstances. But regardless of how he felt, he had a story to tell "Let us speak of the King's tale." Though it was possible that such a declaration would confuse Zhongli who wished to learn of Merlin's story, who was obviously not a king, it would be clarified in time. The tale of King Arthur was as much about Merlin as Arthur himself, for the life of King Arthur and the country he ruled was both Merlin's greatest success and his greatest failure. There was no way more fitting than this. Placing an arm up on one of the chair's armrests, allowing his staff to rest in his bent elbow, Merlin rested his head on a closed fist, his knuckles burying themselves ever so slightly into his cheek.

"I was once the Court Magus of the kingdom of Camelot, serving Uther Pendragon. As both the King's advisor and one who dealt with all matters magical, I also bore the task of finding the one who would take the throne after Uther. Normally, that right falls to the crown prince; the King's son. For... certain reasons, that was not to be so in this case. The next King would be selected, through a test. Of course, I believed, knew, all along that it would indeed be the Uther's son, Arthur, that becomes his successor. When Arthur was born, I took him to be raised under the care of a knight that served under Uther, Sir Ector. Ector and his son, Kay, would be Arthur's foster family. He was raised to be a knight from birth, and in the year he turned fifteen, I placed the Sword of Selection, Caliburn, within a stone that lay just on the outskirts of town, in a grassy field. The one who would pull the sword from the stone would prove their right to the throne, to kingship. Many came, and tried, and failed. I knew all along that there was only one in all of the kingdom who would be able to draw that sword from the stone." With those words, Merlin's eyes broke their contact with Zhongli's, turning downward to the floor. For Merlin, it was not the hardship that Arthur had to endure, whether it was the loss of his friends, the betrayals he suffered, or the destruction of his kingdom, that caused him deep sorrow. Rather, the true tragedy in the tale was that there was no fate for Arthur other than that path. From the moment of his birth, that was his destiny. Without reasserting his gaze on Zhongli, Merlin continued. "Arthur found his way into town on that day, and went to the stone where there lay the Sword of Selection. Before he drew it, I warned him of the fate that would await him. That he would come to be hated by many people, and he would die a horrendous death. He did not shy away from it. He accepted it wholly, in fact. Because many were smiling, it wasn't the wrong path..." as he repeated Arthur's words back to himself, they began to drift slightly, as if he himself were becoming lost in his own memories. Though it had been a great many years since that day, it felt as if only yesterday to him. Blinking back into reality, Merlin straightened himself in his chair, facing Zhongli properly "Anyway, back to our lesson now. Are you ready?"




You've learned:

(Kanki: Kigen no Kamigami) – Surge of Evocation: Era of Gods
Type: Offensive/Defensive/Supplementary
Rank: D-S
Range: Short-Long
Chakra Cost: 10-40
Damage Points: N/A
Description: This technique encompasses the basic applications of the Surge of Evocation. The Surge of Evocation is the usage of Prana in its raw and unrefined form; whatever this Prana touches is transformed into ethereal energy and transported to the Throne. Prana will neutralize and be neutralized by techniques that possess the same amount of chakra. Similarly it will be useless against attacks of greater chakra and will not be weakened by techniques of lower chakra. However when used on living targets this ambient energy will feel extremely frigid to the touch and induce cold burns on contact or even freeze a target solid for higher ranked applications. D to B-Rank uses will inflict cold burns as well as all of the effects of frostbite. A-Rank uses will cause necrosis of the afflicted parts of the body, making them appear dark purple and bruised to signify the death of cells. Affected appendages and organs will cease to function, becoming completely immobile in the case of limbs. S rank uses will freeze the struck targets solid. In the case of Surgebinders, who are immune to all of the above effects, they will be transported to the Throne when struck by the prana of another member of their clan. Era of Gods can be split into three separate applications, all based on the same principle: constructs, armors, and familiars made of prana energy.

Pride of Gilgamesh – Gates of Babylon
The Pride of Gilgamesh allows the user to produce Prana either from the user’s body or on the battlefield. The Prana can only be manifested within short-range of the opponent if the user is also within that range, in which it must be created a minimum of one meter away. This restriction does not apply if the user chooses to release the Prana from their body, rather than manifest it away from themselves. The energy can be released from the body via various hand signs depending on the user's rank in the clan. This can be done to generate constructs bound only by the rank of technique used and one’s imagination; alternatively the user can simplify the application by creating streams, waves, and constructs of Prana. Manifested Prana is capable of taking solid form, granting tangibility at the user’s volition. Non-projectile uses of this technique are capable of levitating and can be governed through mental commands and a sustained chakra cost. B-Ranks and below are sustained through 5 chakra per turn, A-Ranks and above require 10 chakra per turn. Created constructs will last three turns per usage unless they are prematurely cancelled. S-Rank applications can only be used once every three turns and no Prana in the user’s next turn.

Embrace of Ishtar – Armory of Akkadia
This variant allows the user to manifest armors, auras, and coatings of Prana around their body. This can be used to enshroud a single or multiple body parts in a layer of colored energy. These defenses can be made to fit the body like conventional armors or enveloping it in a formless manner. The first type can be created with additional limbs and appendages such as wings which enable flight. The user can also constantly reshape it and create small-scale weapons from the body of the armor, though at the cost of one of the user's three moves. It should be noted that these constructs remain attached to the main body of the armor and so act as an extension of it. The second type generates a “flowing aura” that appears to flicker like an open flame. This aura is often made as an upwards column that is streamed into the sky with its base remaining around the user. It should be noted that its power is not split or divided as all of the Prana energy is part of one whole. The armors can exhibit tangibility, although this does not hinder the user’s techniques and their passing which can freely move in and out of the armor per the user’s will. B-Rank and below applications require being sustained with 5 chakra per turn while A and S Ranks require 10 chakra per turn. This technique can last a maximum of three turns. S-Rank applications can be used twice per battle. After an S-Rank application expires the user is unable to utilize Prana single turn.

Divinity of Merlin – Garden of Avalon
The Divinity of Merlin allows the user to produce Prana in the same way as the Pride of Gilgamesh and can be shaped in the same way, limited by rank and imagination. However, unlike the Pride of Gilgamesh which creates static constructs the Divinity of Merlin creates constructs imbued with a limited form of sentience – familiars. These familiars can be created anywhere on the battlefield, with the exception of short-range of the opponent unless the user is also within that range; in this case the familiar cannot be created within two meters of the opponent. This restriction does not apply if the user chooses to release the Prana from their body. Familiars are capable of taking numerous shapes, not simply limited to animals. These familiars are also capable of taking solid form at the user’s volition. Familiars are capable of remaining on the battlefield for four turns. B-Ranks and below are sustained through 5 chakra per turn, A-Ranks and above require 10 chakra per turn. S-Rank applications can only be used twice times per battle and no Prana in the user’s next turn.

Note: The upper echelon of the clan (Servants and above) are capable of using this technique without hand signs for B-rank and below. A-rank will require two hand signs and S-rank requires three.
Note: The lower tier clan members (Phantasms to Guardians) will require 5 to 3 hand seals for all ranks, decreasing as they they ascend in rank.
As the pillar began to decompose and fall apart, as though at any time a stiff breeze would have been enough to cause the same effect, it suddenly struck Zhongli. The point, intent of this particular display was to show how Prana did in fact react with physical substances that was not itself or other Surgebinders, specifically. The pillar had gradually deconstructed upon itself, crumbling into a familiar golden illumination of energy that swirled around the descending lotus flower, following it like a gentle gale all the way down. Just before the flower would touch the ground itself, Zhongli had waved a hand out toward his side; the same one he used to conjure the energy. Though it seemed to be an unnecessary step to accomplish what he meant to, the gesture served as a quick, reflexive means to wave the energy away. The lotus flower thus fell apart just as it had done to the pedestal; the energy dispersing and fading back into the flickering of the light that filled the room until little more than a light haze remained, to burn off over the course of the following minutes. He hadn't wished to burn a hole through Merlin's precious tower...

Zhongli's attention had shifted back toward the Magus, watching as he spoke of a reward and proceeded to dwell on that particular thought for a time longer. Zhongli himself had thought for a moment and even considered insisting that they continued with due haste, yet as the chairs gradually came into being before him, Merlin took his place in one, ever so intent in every movement he made, precise and subtle. This served as a very obvious hint what was to follow. History was about to be told, memories brokered in the form of a tale told. This was a large reason why he had come; considering his personality, arguably almost moreso than the training itself.. Zhongli moved to open his mouth a moment, yet he instead merely clutched his jaw lightly. He couldn't resist this opportunity, least of all for how rare it was to hear a legend from the source itself. Shifting smoothly upon the heels of his leather dress shoes, The Listener sprung into the familiar comforts of his namesake: With a flourish of his own long, deep brown ponytail that ran the length of his spine down to his waist, he quickly fell into place into the chair opposite of Merlin. His back was straight as an arrow, his shoulders just as well, yet leaned into the backrest of the chair he now sat in. His core seemed to be the only thing that showed some lax in his posture, yet it still managed to maintain something of a straightness to his form as his hips slipped back, yet not fully into the chair so as his tailbone remained away from the backrest. He settled either of his arms along the rests of the chair, bent at their elbows to allow his fingers to intertwine in front of him. He seemed stiff as a board, yet somehow, also quite relaxed.. It was a strange combination that seemed to defy the obvious opposites the two things implied. He was ready to listen; eager, in fact.

Merlin had opted to start the telling in a form that Zhongli had suspected. It was to be the recounts of the legend that was at least somewhat familiar to a large sum of the modern world. Yet so many knew it from the perspective of the King of Knights, or the recounts of those interpreting events from that era in history. Few records truly existed from that time, and even fewer gave substance to the tale that caused it to border on myth. Zhongli believed he had information that few others had already; details that were commonly overlooked, interpretations of his own that differed greatly from the common consensus, as well access to varying recounts from different points in history that allowed him to cross reference what was true and what was rewritten and lost in embellishment. Now, he had the chance to hear it's telling properly, from the true recounts of one who had in fact experienced the courtly intrigue; a name in the legend itself.

As Merlin's telling slowly lulled to a rather inconclusive end that settled into silence, Zhongli looked upon the Mage for a time, watching as his somber expression snapped back into what he believed was a practiced façade of optimism, or perhaps brave encouragement. Zhongli had taken longer to respond after Merlin had suggested they continue the training, remaining fixed in his seat, unmoving from the posture he had arranged himself into for a moment longer before finally sitting forward, scooching smoothly to the edge of the chair as he settled his warm, amber hues upon Merlin. "It must have been difficult, watching the one who you would come to call King, walk willingly into the abyss that was the fate you knew of. We all struggle to face the hand that lady Fate has dealt us; some in far greater discomfort than others, to be sure. Such is how stories are made; tales are born from tragedy. I believe your King knew this the day they pulled the Sword of Selection. Yet I cannot imagine being forced to witness the tragedy of a friend unfold, knowing well how it shall end and be given not the right to look away. " Zhongli spoke, his words carrying in a soft deepness that came with the natural tone of his voice, bordering nearly a whisper, yet clear and concise all the same. Intently, he finally lifted himself from his seat, his hands pulling lightly at the hem of his coat as to straighten it; a flick of either wrist as he pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves for the same purpose. He looked out toward the windows to the side of the room, eyeing the outside a moment as he seemed to ponder a brief moment. "You are a man of undeniable fortitude and strength to shoulder such a burden for as long as you have and still find joy, however faint, enough to continue living. I hope to show such vigilance if a day ever comes that such strength is required of me. " This time, his words rolled with a more precise, calculated tone, as though what he were speaking was recited from a place of absolute truth in his mind, merely stating a matter-of-fact before turning his gaze back to the Mage once more. "I thank you for this moment, Master Mage. I am ready to continue if you are. "
 

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He had dwelled on his own sensations and thoughts on the matter for so many years that Zhongli's seemed to have little effect. No more comfort could be offered to the Magus of Flowers. Of all people, Merlin was the one of the few that strived to see the good in others, to look past their flaws and find those parts which were worthy of respect, which were worthy of being cherished. After the Battle of Camlann, after Artoria's death, Merlin could no longer do that for himself. A scoundrel through and through. The gravity of his sin outweighed anything good within him, or that he had done. Without addressing any of Zhongli's remarks on his character, or the recount of the tale in its earliest stages, he nodded. "Good." with a click of his fingers, the world around the two men began to twist and tear. The image of the tower turned within itself, as if they had entered some kind of physical kaleidoscope. Though the effect was stunning, it was shortlived, as reality began to reassert itself. The two found themselves sitting in a small clearing within a forest which seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. To Zhongli, it seemed no different to any other forest, but Merlin knew exactly where they were; the place where he was born. Where he grew up, and would eventually learn to harness his powers. "This place hasn't changed too much." he remarked, inspecting the great congregation of nature around him. Standing from his chair, which stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the forest full of green, Merlin would begin the next stage of the lesson.

"Worry not, there's more to come." he assured Zhongli, tapping his staff gently on the dirt. Between the two men, a relatively flat wooden plank would rise from the ground, breaking through the surface of the earth and standing straight. Carved into its surface was the cartoonish visage of a man Zhongli wouldn't know, though Merlin was well-acquainted with. It would serve as an instrument for the next skill Zhongli was about to learn to use. "As you know, whatever your Prana touches gets sent to the Throne. You're also capable of bringing those things back. Using your Prana, I want you to transport this training dummy to the Throne, and then call it back here."

Type: Supplementary/Offensive/Defensive
Rank: D
Range: Short-Mid
Chakra: 10
Damage: 20
Description: Creates small wood pillars or trees to trap, fight, or defenf with. These can be created from the users own body or from the ground.

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He had dwelled on his own sensations and thoughts on the matter for so many years that Zhongli's seemed to have little effect. No more comfort could be offered to the Magus of Flowers. Of all people, Merlin was the one of the few that strived to see the good in others, to look past their flaws and find those parts which were worthy of respect, which were worthy of being cherished. After the Battle of Camlann, after Artoria's death, Merlin could no longer do that for himself. A scoundrel through and through. The gravity of his sin outweighed anything good within him, or that he had done. Without addressing any of Zhongli's remarks on his character, or the recount of the tale in its earliest stages, he nodded. "Good." with a click of his fingers, the world around the two men began to twist and tear. The image of the tower turned within itself, as if they had entered some kind of physical kaleidoscope. Though the effect was stunning, it was shortlived, as reality began to reassert itself. The two found themselves sitting in a small clearing within a forest which seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions. To Zhongli, it seemed no different to any other forest, but Merlin knew exactly where they were; the place where he was born. Where he grew up, and would eventually learn to harness his powers. "This place hasn't changed too much." he remarked, inspecting the great congregation of nature around him. Standing from his chair, which stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the forest full of green, Merlin would begin the next stage of the lesson.

"Worry not, there's more to come." he assured Zhongli, tapping his staff gently on the dirt. Between the two men, a relatively flat wooden plank would rise from the ground, breaking through the surface of the earth and standing straight. Carved into its surface was the cartoonish visage of a man Zhongli wouldn't know, though Merlin was well-acquainted with. It would serve as an instrument for the next skill Zhongli was about to learn to use. "As you know, whatever your Prana touches gets sent to the Throne. You're also capable of bringing those things back. Using your Prana, I want you to transport this training dummy to the Throne, and then call it back here."

Type: Supplementary/Offensive/Defensive
Rank: D
Range: Short-Mid
Chakra: 10
Damage: 20
Description: Creates small wood pillars or trees to trap, fight, or defenf with. These can be created from the users own body or from the ground.

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Zhongli hadn't seemed to take much notice to the unwavering commitment that Merlin appeared to have in the complacency of the tragedy he suffered from a bygone age. It was strangely something that the Nomad somewhat identified with, at least to some extent. Yet he had said his piece as he had wanted to; it was entirely up to Merlin, and of no consequence to Zhongli however he chose to take what was spoken. Instead, he was focused now on the training at hand, meant to resume as soon as the Mage determined what the next best course was.

The world began to warp upon itself. It was a strange sensation, something that Zhongli had never experienced the likes of, yet somehow it reminded him of something.. like, the sensation of waking from a dream..? The feeling of being struck back into ones own body, as though having just lived a different life mere moments ago; a different perspective of reality, only to find that he was somewhere else entirely in an instant. The forest terrain that had replaced the tower of stone that they had previously inhabited was a pleasant change of pace. Though it took him only a moment to collect his surroundings, Zhongli was still hesitant a moment longer before he was willing to take his first step freely, without reservations, following shortly after Merlin had done so himself. He took in the lushness of the tree's freshly budded leaves, the crisp crackle of every step he'd take as twigs, wet leaves, and softened soil shaped to each of his steps. He took a single, deep breath, relishing the moment before his attention was drawn to the creation that Merlin had prepared, instructing him of what he was meant to do. Zhongli lifted a curious brow, a hand moving to caress lightly at his own chin in a pensive manner. "Am I to infuse this.. "artistical recreation" with my Prana as one does with chakra, intended to influence another's mind or body?" Though Zhongli had posed the question, he didn't wait a moment for the answer before stirring the Prana around himself once more. While he has only done so the one time thus far, this second instance seemed to come far more naturally; he was eager to test the limitations of Prana and the steadiness of it's conjuring with minimal gestures and effort in general. All he had to do was focus upon the familiar sensation that coursed through his veins, imagining it's connection to The Throne in order to pull it forward with ease, as though it were second nature. He proceeded to envelop the wooden creation with the glimmering gale of gold Prana, gradually working it into something of a cocoon surrounding the cutout that gradually tightened inward more and more. It steadily began the deconstructive process of converting the object into Prana, of which was necessary for the result of it's transition to The Throne. This was all the familiar part, of course. The tricky part would be figuring out how he was meant to pull it back here, in one piece...

Once the wooden structure was gone, Zhongli's conjured Prana had too dispersed with it. He now idled a moment, contemplating what the process was meant to be, exactly, in order to bring the structure back from the other side. He had done so himself, many times in fact, when traveling to and from The Throne himself. Yet it was always so seamless; it required little more than a simple thought at times, as though beckoning The Throne from wherever he might have been in the world, to which it would respond to his call by bringing him there itself. Perhaps that was the trick itself. The Throne could be seen as a scroll is to a sealing technique; it is the vessel, but it the source for which the target remains sealed. The true bindings are the user's own chakra; or in this case, Prana. Closing his eyes, Zhongli recalled the appearance of the wooden structure that Merlin had made down to the most minute detail. Every crack and grain that shaped the wood, each flake of dry color dye that filled in the poorly recreated adaptation of someone Zhongli had no particular familiarity to, yet.. Lifting a hand out in front of him, Zhongli began the process of harnessing further Prana, yet this time, his focus was fixed upon the image in his mind, which served as an anchor that directed the link he now shared with The Throne in the moment of his call for Prana to tie directly to the wooden object itself; the same Prana he had used to pull it there, he would use to bring it back. After a brief moment, the same cocoon of golden Prana appeared once more, flowing steadily in the exact same place as before. The Prana seemed different in it's objective this time, however. Rather than simply idling in place for any moment in time, it instead squirmed, folded upon itself and molded into a shape before dispersing to reveal the wooden structure in all it's "glory"..

Zhongli shifted his attention toward the Mage, pulling his hand toward himself as he lifted his other to begin massaging lightly at his palm, as though working out a tender muscle. "Hmm.. I cannot be certain if I truly returned the same object, or if I merely recreated it's likeness with my Prana. How does one tell?"
 
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