The essay is the hardest part
Posted: Wed Jun 07, 2023 9:24 am
122 80th of Frost at night
In the modest comfort of his room Ivar found it hard to be chill. He was a pretty chill guy but today was different because he was going to do some cool new stuff. This was not a journey that required him to pack a bag or even leave the room, but an adventure of a different kind entirely. The skill he had recently learned, astral projection, promised to open up a whole new way of thinking.
It was a talent that the skilled traversers could wield, allowing them to detach their astral bodies from the physical and venture into the unseen corners of the slipspace. He had spent most of the day absorbing the teachings from his instructor. Astral projection was not a skill one could rush into. It required patience, focus, and a firm understanding of the aether within oneself.
It was about learning to relinquish the hold on physicality and allowing the astral form to emerge freely. As he sat on the wooden floor of his room, the faint glow from the solitary candle casting long shadows on the walls, Ivar felt a sense of calm envelop him.
“This is pretty relaxing.”
He focused on his breathing, drawing in slow, deep breaths, holding them for a moment, and then letting them out. With each breath, he could feel the boundaries between his physical body and the astral becoming less defined.
As he sank deeper into this state of heightened focus, he began to visualize the energy inside him. He saw it as a radiant orb of light nestled in the center of his being, pulsating gently. This was his aether, the essence of his astral body, ready to be released into the slipspace.
The world around him started to feel distant, the noises fading into an indistinct murmur, the details of his room blurring around the edges. It was as if he was slowly pulling away from reality, transitioning into a realm that was neither here nor there.
With one final breath, he let go. He could feel the aether rushing forth, breaking free from the confines of his physical form. It was an indescribable feeling. It was a sense of expansion, of liberation. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, he opened his eyes, not his physical ones, but the eyes of his astral body.
He found himself gazing down at his physical form, a strange sensation washing over him. There he was, seated calmly on the floor, appearing peaceful and in deep meditation. But here he also was, floating above, looking down, completely detached and free. This duality, this strange disconnect, was incredibly surreal.
“This is so wild”
As he hovered there, the initial wave of awe slowly subsided, replaced by a growing sense of curiosity and anticipation. He had taken the first step, his astral form successfully detached and free in the Slipspace. The real journey, however, was only just beginning.
“I wonder what kind of crazy stuff I can do with this!”
With a final glance at his physical body, Ivar turned his astral self towards the door of his room, ready to venture into the unseen, ready to explore the realm of the Slipspace. As he passed through the wooden door, it felt as though he was drifting through a thin veil of water, a gentle resistance before he was on the other side.
“This is exhilarating. It is like being a wisp of smoke, able to drift and flow around without any tangible barriers.”
The common room of the dormitory was quiet, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the distant hoot of a night owl. There were a few students huddled in one corner, engrossed in their books or quietly conversing. Ivar watched them, a wave of amusement washing over him as he realized they were completely oblivious to his presence. Becoming transparent was easier than he thought it would be.
Ivar decided to explore further, drifting through the hallways of the dormitory, weaving in and out of rooms, catching glimpses of his fellow students in their private moments. He saw one friend, Marley, engrossed in her runes study, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. Another friend was strumming a melancholic tune on his lute, his eyes closed, lost in the melody. Ivar wondered if he should make his presence known.
Protections in the school prevented him from venturing anywhere he ought not to go. That was pretty lame in Ivar’s opinion but he could see why it would be bad to have a school full of mages spying on the girls in the bathroom. He thought he could resist such a temptation but he did want to go find Luna and see if she was reading.
He searched around and couldn’t find her. He found another girl and made himself visible. She looked up, seemingly startled, and then broke into a wide grin when she recognized Ivar’s astral form. Despite the limitations, the projection allowed communication, and Ivar found himself engaged in a fascinating conversation with Luna about the nuances of their magical studies.
“Hey there. Look at what I recently learned how to do.”
This interaction felt different from their usual conversations. The physicality was gone, replaced by a unique sense of connection that transcended the usual sensory experiences. It was liberating in a way, not being confined by the usual physical boundaries.
As time ticked by, Ivar's astral form floated through the campus. There was a sense of freedom in this, of being unbound by the physical restrictions of his body. But as he roamed, a sense of disconnection began to creep in, a slight uneasiness, a longing for the tactile, for the physicality of his body.
Ivar felt a pull, an invisible thread tugging him back. The allure of the physical world called him, the comfort of his body. He let the pull guide him, traversing back through the dormitory, through the now quiet common room, back into his room. His physical form lay there, peaceful, untouched. He merged back with it, the sensation akin to slipping into a warm, comfortable blanket.
“This is fun and all but I can’t actually do much of anything in this form.”
Returning to his body was like waking from a deep sleep, a little disoriented but filled with vivid impressions of the dream. He sat there in the silence of his room, reflecting on his astral journey. Ivar plopped down at his desk, staring at the blank parchment before him. His quill was poised, dipped in ink, ready to go. Writing an essay about his astral projection experience felt like a mountainous task. Why did homework have to be so hard?
He started with the title. That's how essays started, right? So he scribbled in large, blocky letters: 'My Out-of-Body Adventure'. Sounded pretty cool, he thought, grinning at his creativity. He then started with the introduction, recalling how the whole experience began. He described his first steps into astral projection, how weird it felt leaving his physical body, how it was sort of like waking up from a really vivid dream. He tried to make it sound interesting. Words like 'freedom' and 'awe-inspiring' were tossed around. He was pretty sure his teacher would like that.
Next, he moved onto the main body of the essay. This was where things got a bit complicated. He had to write about his feelings, his observations, all the stuff he'd learned. Remembering his journey through the academy and his visits to his friends, he jotted down the experiences, describing them as vividly as he could. His quill moved in rapid bursts, ink splattering here and there, his thoughts spilling onto the parchment.
He wrote about his talks with the girl, how their reactions had differed, how it felt weird not being able to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder or join in on a workout. He mentioned his strange feeling of disconnection from the physical world and how he'd learned he could change how visible he was to others.
He didn't forget to mention the part about realizing he couldn't sever the link to his physical body, and how he felt a sort of relief at that, like a lifeline back to what he knew. It made astral projection seem less scary, less final. He wrote about how his perceptions changed, how he didn't rely on his regular senses but sort of 'knew' things intuitively.
Finally, he ended his essay with the conclusion. He discussed the thrill of returning to his physical body, how he'd missed the tactile sensations, the realness of his own existence. He reflected on the allure of the physical world and how, despite the freedom astral projection offered, he knew he was still grounded in reality.
He knew the basic essay structure from having to do many of them over the years. It did not mean that it was any good though. Even still, he smiled and rolled up his essay, securing it with a piece of string. He'd hand it in tomorrow, let his teacher see into his crazy, astral-projecting brain. Maybe she'd find it as fascinating as he did. Or at least, he hoped she would. This stuff wasn't easy, after all.
In the modest comfort of his room Ivar found it hard to be chill. He was a pretty chill guy but today was different because he was going to do some cool new stuff. This was not a journey that required him to pack a bag or even leave the room, but an adventure of a different kind entirely. The skill he had recently learned, astral projection, promised to open up a whole new way of thinking.
It was a talent that the skilled traversers could wield, allowing them to detach their astral bodies from the physical and venture into the unseen corners of the slipspace. He had spent most of the day absorbing the teachings from his instructor. Astral projection was not a skill one could rush into. It required patience, focus, and a firm understanding of the aether within oneself.
It was about learning to relinquish the hold on physicality and allowing the astral form to emerge freely. As he sat on the wooden floor of his room, the faint glow from the solitary candle casting long shadows on the walls, Ivar felt a sense of calm envelop him.
“This is pretty relaxing.”
He focused on his breathing, drawing in slow, deep breaths, holding them for a moment, and then letting them out. With each breath, he could feel the boundaries between his physical body and the astral becoming less defined.
As he sank deeper into this state of heightened focus, he began to visualize the energy inside him. He saw it as a radiant orb of light nestled in the center of his being, pulsating gently. This was his aether, the essence of his astral body, ready to be released into the slipspace.
The world around him started to feel distant, the noises fading into an indistinct murmur, the details of his room blurring around the edges. It was as if he was slowly pulling away from reality, transitioning into a realm that was neither here nor there.
With one final breath, he let go. He could feel the aether rushing forth, breaking free from the confines of his physical form. It was an indescribable feeling. It was a sense of expansion, of liberation. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, he opened his eyes, not his physical ones, but the eyes of his astral body.
He found himself gazing down at his physical form, a strange sensation washing over him. There he was, seated calmly on the floor, appearing peaceful and in deep meditation. But here he also was, floating above, looking down, completely detached and free. This duality, this strange disconnect, was incredibly surreal.
“This is so wild”
As he hovered there, the initial wave of awe slowly subsided, replaced by a growing sense of curiosity and anticipation. He had taken the first step, his astral form successfully detached and free in the Slipspace. The real journey, however, was only just beginning.
“I wonder what kind of crazy stuff I can do with this!”
With a final glance at his physical body, Ivar turned his astral self towards the door of his room, ready to venture into the unseen, ready to explore the realm of the Slipspace. As he passed through the wooden door, it felt as though he was drifting through a thin veil of water, a gentle resistance before he was on the other side.
“This is exhilarating. It is like being a wisp of smoke, able to drift and flow around without any tangible barriers.”
The common room of the dormitory was quiet, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the distant hoot of a night owl. There were a few students huddled in one corner, engrossed in their books or quietly conversing. Ivar watched them, a wave of amusement washing over him as he realized they were completely oblivious to his presence. Becoming transparent was easier than he thought it would be.
Ivar decided to explore further, drifting through the hallways of the dormitory, weaving in and out of rooms, catching glimpses of his fellow students in their private moments. He saw one friend, Marley, engrossed in her runes study, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. Another friend was strumming a melancholic tune on his lute, his eyes closed, lost in the melody. Ivar wondered if he should make his presence known.
Protections in the school prevented him from venturing anywhere he ought not to go. That was pretty lame in Ivar’s opinion but he could see why it would be bad to have a school full of mages spying on the girls in the bathroom. He thought he could resist such a temptation but he did want to go find Luna and see if she was reading.
He searched around and couldn’t find her. He found another girl and made himself visible. She looked up, seemingly startled, and then broke into a wide grin when she recognized Ivar’s astral form. Despite the limitations, the projection allowed communication, and Ivar found himself engaged in a fascinating conversation with Luna about the nuances of their magical studies.
“Hey there. Look at what I recently learned how to do.”
This interaction felt different from their usual conversations. The physicality was gone, replaced by a unique sense of connection that transcended the usual sensory experiences. It was liberating in a way, not being confined by the usual physical boundaries.
As time ticked by, Ivar's astral form floated through the campus. There was a sense of freedom in this, of being unbound by the physical restrictions of his body. But as he roamed, a sense of disconnection began to creep in, a slight uneasiness, a longing for the tactile, for the physicality of his body.
Ivar felt a pull, an invisible thread tugging him back. The allure of the physical world called him, the comfort of his body. He let the pull guide him, traversing back through the dormitory, through the now quiet common room, back into his room. His physical form lay there, peaceful, untouched. He merged back with it, the sensation akin to slipping into a warm, comfortable blanket.
“This is fun and all but I can’t actually do much of anything in this form.”
Returning to his body was like waking from a deep sleep, a little disoriented but filled with vivid impressions of the dream. He sat there in the silence of his room, reflecting on his astral journey. Ivar plopped down at his desk, staring at the blank parchment before him. His quill was poised, dipped in ink, ready to go. Writing an essay about his astral projection experience felt like a mountainous task. Why did homework have to be so hard?
He started with the title. That's how essays started, right? So he scribbled in large, blocky letters: 'My Out-of-Body Adventure'. Sounded pretty cool, he thought, grinning at his creativity. He then started with the introduction, recalling how the whole experience began. He described his first steps into astral projection, how weird it felt leaving his physical body, how it was sort of like waking up from a really vivid dream. He tried to make it sound interesting. Words like 'freedom' and 'awe-inspiring' were tossed around. He was pretty sure his teacher would like that.
Next, he moved onto the main body of the essay. This was where things got a bit complicated. He had to write about his feelings, his observations, all the stuff he'd learned. Remembering his journey through the academy and his visits to his friends, he jotted down the experiences, describing them as vividly as he could. His quill moved in rapid bursts, ink splattering here and there, his thoughts spilling onto the parchment.
He wrote about his talks with the girl, how their reactions had differed, how it felt weird not being able to give her a comforting pat on the shoulder or join in on a workout. He mentioned his strange feeling of disconnection from the physical world and how he'd learned he could change how visible he was to others.
He didn't forget to mention the part about realizing he couldn't sever the link to his physical body, and how he felt a sort of relief at that, like a lifeline back to what he knew. It made astral projection seem less scary, less final. He wrote about how his perceptions changed, how he didn't rely on his regular senses but sort of 'knew' things intuitively.
Finally, he ended his essay with the conclusion. He discussed the thrill of returning to his physical body, how he'd missed the tactile sensations, the realness of his own existence. He reflected on the allure of the physical world and how, despite the freedom astral projection offered, he knew he was still grounded in reality.
He knew the basic essay structure from having to do many of them over the years. It did not mean that it was any good though. Even still, he smiled and rolled up his essay, securing it with a piece of string. He'd hand it in tomorrow, let his teacher see into his crazy, astral-projecting brain. Maybe she'd find it as fascinating as he did. Or at least, he hoped she would. This stuff wasn't easy, after all.
