Flight

It is fairly cold up here among the clouds. Though Mattie’s gardens flourish and the rodents seem to have acclimated to such a shift in biomes. Perhaps the residual magicles impede the diffusion of energy whisked away by the passing winds. Regardless, the temperature is still noticeably dropping, the constant motion and rotation of the city in the sky has not eased my stomach, but hopefully with time I shall find my feet in the air.
 
Apparently we are making our way north to Cryopathia via Aeroas then Inan Dara. The cloistered scholars of the Mantara Library seemed to hold the Primus in mixed esteem. Some reveled at their grand lineage as Dragon Masters of Old; conducting research of our limited records on their exact relationship with the dragons. Though many sneered at their rumored arrogance. It is well known amongst the scholars of our generation that at the beginning of the Revening, they decided to condense their resources, high in the mountains of Aeroian Mountains. Whether this was for self-preservation, or genocidal purposes, we currently do not know.
 
Freya informed me that in the champions’ few interactions with the Primus of Aeroas, an air of entitlement emanates from them like specks of magic. I read once under Ja-Khitkl that the Primus were originally aerial protectors of Yarlem. Enlarged hawks, falcons, and other birds of prey screamed through the sky on guard. Little is known as to why these protectors have retracted their guiding talons, but I suppose the silent air serves as a resentful reminder to those below the peaks of Aeroas. I am excited to finally meet these people since all my fellows and I have experienced were the mental images we projected in our studies.
 
In other news though, I have strengthen my mental control over the displacement of light. Something so immaterial, intangible can exist in one locus and dissipate in a matter of seconds. Without my study and guidance from my teachers, I currently do not understand the means by which I can manipulate the light. I know that I can concentrate the light into an unstable ball that leaks into the displaced area. By changing the configuration of the orb, I can manipulate the color and the visual effect, temporarily creating static images. In doing so, I find that the surrounding area grows ever darker. By something that appears intangible, it would seem that light is still controlled by the laws of diffusion. How is light naturally displaced? Will light ever reach equilibrium? Are we condensed forms of existence waiting to be diffused into the ether of time?