PL: 9,170

Ryme stared at the sky as he meditated, or what appeared to be the sky. Babidis' magic powers continued to impress him creating illusions for the sake of beauty. That took a different level of power than the typical black and white that changelings perceived it as. He enjoyed the idea of meditating for power, he might have been more engaged in more of his lessons on frost if training took multiple forms. Ryme had attempted meditation before when he had heard the namekians do it to train. However, he could never find his home base as others liked to call it to focus his thoughts. He had constant interruptions, but here the serenity of the room seemed to help him focus.

He'd start only on his breathing, listening to it come out. While his breath was a little ragged, mainly from the fight Ryme still found his home base. It'd take a couple of minutes of focusing on his breath to gain the focus he needed. Once he managed to elevate himself to that level he could feel his blood pumping, his Ki flowing throughout his body. There was something powerful to him about truly feeling his own aura, his spiritual pressure. He wondered if this was one of the core concepts of magic, the reason they had embarked on this journey, to begin with.

More interesting was that after a couple of minutes in his higher stage of meditation Ryme found the room around him changing. Somehow he had stopped laying on the ground, even though he couldn't recall standing. He was outside a volcano now, surrounded by pools of lava. There was no one else on the planet that he could see, his brother nowhere to be found. Ryme didn't want to stop focusing on his meditation yet, even with his brother separate from him. If that was what was happening, he'd have to continue on alone in his trance. As the lava started to erupt from mountains far away Ryme could feel the heat. He continued to focus as he questioned his concept of reality.

WC: 349
TWC: 349

Had he been in the room the whole time? The past couple of months had led up to him eating the fruit from the tree. Trying to conceptualize reality, or time was an exercise in futility. Master Babidi had told Ryme that, along with one other important piece of information. He had told Ryme that magic in the Demon Realm was seen as a science. That it wasn't the mystical art that Earthlings liked to pretend it was. That through processes it was capable of just being another tool to expand power such as Ki. When Ryme had first learned of Master Babidi he had already theorized such a thing himself. To have it affirmed by his master was no small feat, how he spoke to them in the meditation room was also alarming. He wasn't sure if it was magic or some kind of trick, but it sounded as if he was talking directly into Ryme's mind he'd have to ask his brother if he heard what he was saying as well. Even then with a good enough hidden speaker, it was possible to pull off such a trick. Ryme had already agreed to be Master Babidi's apprentice the magic that he had already shown was great enough for that. His ability to create stronger, loyal disciples with one spell was all that Ryme sought. Everything else he would come up with himself.

Behind him the volcano burst into life, the lava flowing straight towards Ryme. The melted rock river would envelop his form, for a split second all Ryme could feel was the heat. It started with a comforting warmth, like a hug from an old friend reconnecting. That wouldn't last, the next was searing sharp pain, he tried to resist screaming but he relented. He could barely get out a rasp before he felt the heat fill his body as if it were sentient. Ryme's brain would overload from the pain or his nerves were destroyed either way the pain would all subside abruptly and completely.

He could feel something on his eyelids, his body felt fine now. Opening his eyes, Ryme would see that he was in complete blank whiteness. Looking down, he'd be more confused. There was no platform, nothing he was standing on, looking down he could see more white emptiness, what was he standing on? Before he could consider his situation more, he'd hear the voice of Babidi come through once again. Instructing him to practice his basic Magic/Ki techniques while meditating. Ryme usually warmed up before, but he doubted Master Babidi would respond well to him asking for time to do that. Instead, he'd shoot out Ki Blasts, Ryme had a method of practicing. He'd do 1 Ki Blast unaugmented, and 1 Ki Blast augmented with magic. He'd go up 25 then go down again until failure. It was unsatisfying training for Ryme, his Ki blast wasn't colliding with anything, and eventually, they'd just phase out of view. Ryme would continue this exercise for what felt like a couple of days, his Ki reserve higher than he had ever felt before. He assumed it was something Master Babidi was doing.

His last Ki blast would fly out, but Ryme could hear a sound in the distance. It almost sounded like a Ki blast headed straight towards him possibly multiple. That's when he'd turn around and see every Ki blast he had fired in the room headed directly at him, spaced apart by the time in his training, but they would generally hit him around the same time. He'd activate his armor covering his body while trying to deflect as many blasts as he could. It was an exercise in futility, it only bought him a couple of seconds as the blasts kept coming. At least he could fully witness firsthand the strength of his blasts. Ryme wasn't sure how many he took before he blacked out from the pain.

He awoke in a field of grass, there was only a single tree in what appeared to be the middle of the field. Ryme wasn't too far away, but he found himself too tired to fly. Instead, he'd start walking, the uncomfortable shift in elevation from potholes or burrows created by the host of wildlife. The weather made up for the terrain, the sun was beaming down, and Ryme could feel his skin absorbing the warmth. Ryme would arrive at the tree, not knowing why he walked here in the first place. At the base of the tree, there was a hole from which Ryme could see his physical body. Meditating in the room beside his brother, all that he had endured so far had been his own creation. What was he telling himself?

WC: 792
TWC: 1,141