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A Jaded Life Chapter 1082

Novel: A Jaded Life Author: Tsaimath Updated:
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Now reading: Chapter 1082 from A Jaded Life, a Action novel by Tsaimath.

It was about an hour after dusk that I started my work, sitting in the middle of the frozen stream, right where it originally tumbled across the edge and down the cliff, though given its frozen state, there was very little tumbling right now. Just a cliff of ice, sculpted in a flowing and natural fashion where water sticking to the rocks below had frozen before starting to accumulate layer after layer of ice until the entire waterfall was frozen. It looked quite fascinating, especially when the light was hitting it just right, reflecting and refracting off the ice to create a myriad of colours and patterns. Even I, who disliked anything relating to light on general principles, could see the beauty in this, though that didn’t change the fact that I welcod dusk a great deal.

Now, I was trying to form the right wings for . Not just wings, that would be trivial, but the correct wings, the wings that could carry through the sky and into the future, towards whatever ca next. This wasn’t just about flying, as I now realised, it was also about a certain need to self-define and self-identify, otherwise, the wings I created would be wings, they might even work as I intended, but they wouldn’t be ‘my’ wings.

And so, instead of simply going ahead and creating a simply set of wings, I decided to go inwards and start with an observation of what I knew about ‘my’ wings. Given that, to my understanding, a few of the visions I had experienced in the past, especially those concerned with the crossing of divides, worked on a level beyond the physical, essentially examining so sort of combination of my Mind and Soul, understanding them should give sothing to go on. Dreams, those visions, mories, all of them could, and maybe should, be part of what made the wings I would create mine, as would my aspirations for the future.

There were the strange, yet mostly mundane dreams I faintly rembered from my childhood. Dreams of bouncing, of flying and other assorted strangeness, though as I went through what mories still remained, I quickly realised I wouldn’t be able to get all that much from them. They were too old and distorted by ti to find any coherence within them, especially as I couldn’t be certain what might be relevant and what was just a dream and nothing more. If there even was such a thing, at this point, I was essentially flying blind and without wings to soar with, leaving little more than a ballistic object hoping that gravity wouldn’t make the landing too painful. Or sothing like that, taphors could be quite hard but it was the only thing I had to try and make sense of the kaleidoscope of images running through my head.

Other things were easier to put into perspective, though, given the general nature of those realisations didn’t help much. Sure, it was fairly easy to see that my prevailing love for high places had so weird, taphysical relation to avians like Lenore, as their perching behaviour was a potent survival strategy. But how that might relate to dragons was an entirely different question. Would it an that the best places for were similar to the one I was currently occupying, a place from where I could take flight and gain a lot of speed with very little effort as I dove down the waterfall and along the valley below? Did that say sothing about the shape of ‘my’ wings and if it did, what did it an?

Should I try modelling ‘my’ wings after those of a hawk or so other perching raptor, optimised to give speed and control after jumping off a ledge while trying to catch so elusive prey? From a certain point of view, the idea had rit but at the sa ti, I couldn’t help but shake my head at it. If there was one thing I was not, it was a physical predator, if anything, I could imagine myself closer to an owl, still a perching raptor but one focused on stealth and the silent takedown in the night instead of speed and power. Still not what I considered to be my primary pursuit but closer to what I considered my true self, or sothing like that.

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Or was I going at the entire idea from the wrong direction by likening my behaviour to that of mundane creatures from before the change? If there was anything I considered myself not to be, it was mundane. Arcane Magic had beco such a cornerstone of everything I did, so obviously there had to be an elent of arcane magic immortalised in my wings, not just from a practical standpoint but also from a conceptual standpoint. It wasn’t that I had to use magic to create my wings because I lacked other ans, it was that my wings had to be magical to be ‘my’ wings.

Sadly, that realisation didn’t help as much I would have hoped, if anything, it ant I had to discard a few of my earlier ideas and go back to the proverbial drawing board.

Luckily, there were other ideas and mories for to draw from and these few actually held things I considered to be viable. These ca from the few mories I had of actually being a dragon, be it the ritual the Grandmother had used to allow to help Sigmir get rid of the corrupting curse she had laboured under when we first t as the first distinct mory of that or the crossing of the second divide here on Terra just a few months ago when I had started the quest for my wings.

All these mories had so similarities, especially as there seed to be so fluid aspects to them, making wonder if there was a certain fluidity when it ca to what would beco ‘my’ wings but that was rely idle speculation. One of these sowhat fluid elents was the colour of my scales, they had been subtly shifting from vision to vision, though it was always so form of silver or blue, similar to the Ice I conjured, but often with different accents. In so of them, the colour was a lot more on the blue side of things, with silver aspects, apparently focused on nothing but Ice, while in others the colours were a lot more varied, with a silver base before shifting in an almost rainbow-like fashion until ending in a black border, outlining each of my individual scales in a fairly fascinating effect.

Similarly, even the basic body plan seed to be sowhat fluid in those visions. I distinctly rembered tearing the curse out of Sigmir with my claws but in the latest vision, those claws appeared to be a lot smaller, making wonder if that ca from the shift in my ntality over ti as I started to step away from the martial training I had received on Earth before the change and towards a purely magical mindset. Maybe there was even so sort of subconscious awareness going on, telling that Sigmir was more than just a character in a video ga, which might explain so of my behaviour. Or I might simply be more broken than I knew, to the point that I didn’t consider a romantic relationship with what I should have considered as little more than a work of fiction as strange. Maybe because I had never thought I could develop a romantic attraction to anybody, so a fixation on sothing fictional might have appealed to my subconsciousness because it was better than nothing. Or I might be trying to psychoanalyse myself without proper training and understanding, or even access to all the facts, which was probably the most likely scenario. After all, who could claim that they truly knew themself? I certainly could not.

That realisation made focus on that last mory, the one from crossing the second divide. If I was continuing to develop, this would likely be the state closest to the one I was currently in, aning it would be a good first step to create and, more importantly, understand this pair of wings before making sothing that would continue to develop and change as I did.

They would need to be directly linked with my magic, not just created by it, as if they were part of my body, not just a shell created around , which might be part of the reason why my previous experints had continuously failed, I had tried to create sothing external to my body, not additional parts of my body, even if they were made from Ice, Snow and a whole lot of magic.

Finally, after thinking for most of the night, as I sat there in the amazingly cold wind howling up the valley and bursting across the frozen waterfall, I made a decision, hoping it was the correct one. Sadly, I also realised that I wouldn’t be able to try just yet, not with dawn lurking just beyond the horizon, waiting to set the world alight and disrupt my concentration at the most inopportune ti.

But that was okay, there would always be a next night and I wasn’t in that much of a hurry.

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