transmundane
[trans-muhn-deyn, tranz-; trans-muhn-deyn, tranz-]
- reaching beyond or existing outside the physical or visible world.
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Issar sat in an uncomfortable cross-legged manner. His legs were threatening to cramp up, and
his back was too stiff. The hard stone
floor did not help much either. But, he
had to be there. It was for one of his
finals, after all. It was just a shame
it was for his least favorite class: Astral Projection.
He had
never been able to get the skill right and had yet to actually release his astral
form in any class so far. But, this was
the final, and his grade depended on it.
If he could successfully astral project here, then he could at least
walk out with a non-failing grade for the class. If he did not perform, well, he would have another
year to get it right.
And so
far, it was not looking good. His astral
senses were as attuned as any other students, so he could feel the others taking
the final all succeeding. He could feel
their astral forms shifting around him, and he was absolutely sure they were
all making fun of him. And why shouldn’t
they? Astral projection was a basic
skill that any student of the Arts should be able to do with only minimal
training.
But,
Issar was in the vast minority that was seemingly unable to do so. He still tried though. He forced his mind to quiet itself, with
little success. Then he called on his
inner self and tried to once again force it out of his body. He used every trick he could think of. Using more power, opening the Gates wider,
and even trying to “bribe” himself with the promise of a sweet snack
later. Nothing worked. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how
hard he forced it to work, he simply could not release his astral self from the
confines of his body.
He was
about to give up when a stray thought entered his mind. Maybe he was not trying hard enough. Maybe he was trying too hard. He thought back to what the teachers had said
about the skill. Astral projection was a
Soft Art and needed to be treated differently than the Hard Arts that Issar
favored. Hard Arts needed to be beaten
into submission before they would work. They
had to be used with strength and force to make them do anything. Issar was good at that. He knew exactly what he needed to do to get
his Hard Arts to work. It made him one
of the best combat students in the school.
But Soft
Arts needed to be coaxed out in different ways.
They needed to be let free to do as they wished. They needed to be left alone to get started,
and then gently guided into the shape the user wished. That was much harder to Issar than it was to
others. It seemed almost counterintuitive. How could you get something to do anything
without telling it what to do?
Nevertheless,
with a quick breath, he gave it a try.
He simply stopped trying to get his astral self to come out. His breathing slowed, and his mind went blank
as he stopped forcing the thoughts away.
Then he felt it. A cool chill
running along his spine, like someone running a cold finger up his back. Instead of following his gut to resist the
sensation though, he simply let it happen.
Then he felt nothing at all.
When
Issar opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was himself, sitting cross-legged
on the hard stone floor with his eyes closed.
He looked around and smiled. He
could see the previously unseen astral forms of his classmates. He could see the Astral Flow, gently moving
through the air. He could see Spirits
dancing among the students, most of whom danced along with them. All the things that existed just outside the
material realm were now visible to him.
He smiled. He had done it. He had finally learned how to astral project.
And more
importantly, he would not have to take the class again.
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Honestly, I'm not sure if I would do very well in a class like this, even if it existed. I could never sit in that position for very long, and I definitely wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. I have no idea how people can sit that way for long periods of time. It just seems unpleasant to me.
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