"You see, that is what I like about you Zeran." The double-tap on his nose with one lithe finger left an awkward feeling behind. His nose didn't feel like it sat right on his face anymore, as if Elena had inadvertently placed a weight on the end of his nose. Elena turned on heel, sending her hair floating behind her. It tickled against his nose. She must've been doing it on purpose now. Zeran ran his hand down his face, as if to pull his nose out and back into place, as Elena returned to her table. Strangely enough, it worked. "Even when you complain, you never forget your manners and always use the appropriate titles."
Elena was ignoring the fact that Zeran use the same two titles with everyone he spoke to, regardless of social standing within any society. Even Ziths, should he ever have the luck to encounter one. There had been many stories of them around Lhavit, as drinks and music had flown through the streets from the many parties that had partial blame for the city's reputation. Some believable, others exaggerated so much it would be comparable to a Morpher overgiving. It left doubt if much of the original was actually there. Zeran's personal favourites were the 'no-survivor' stories. The trees had never once said so much as a word to him, and they were telling drunks entire stories. How rude.
If there was anything to be learnt from the stories of drunken men, women and children alike, it was take others' words into account, but don't accept them as fact. Be independent. Form your own decisions and beliefs of the world around you. It is much more likely to surprise you if you approach it with an infinitely open mind, rather than restricted closed one. You might even see what is actually there, if you don't only see what you are looking for.
Elena leaned against the edge of her table, twirling a paint brush between her fingers. She was waiting for him to ask. To give in to curiosity and admit that he really wanted to know what she had planned for him. Much to her annoyance, he never cared enough to ask. He was going to be taking part in the experiment either way whatever it was. Elena just liked dragging out the suspense, or revealing her latest idea. Either way, she won.
"How much do you know about glyphing, Zeran?" She asked, producing pots of paint alongside her, presumably from where she got the brush from. There were a few, one already open and almost empty. The source of the traces of magic earlier had probably originated from that pot. A practice session for what she had planned.
"You paint a pretty pattern on something and it becomes magical." That was his depth of knowledge on the discipline. The fundamental reasoning, theory and facts were all lost on him. He knew nothing. The few times he had seen glyphs, they had been drawn on hands, scrolls or other objects, though he could never grasp what they did. He'd seen a scroll kick up a twister, a novice Reimancer producing Res many times faster than they should've been capable of, and a rock split in two. They did something, but the effects varied, and Zeran didn't know how. All he could say was getting on the wrong side of them would be a fun situation to be in.
Elena chuckled as she turned the brush on Zeran, waving it like a pointer. "This is another reason I like you. I always feel a sense of accomplishment when I can share my knowledge with others." She picked up one of the closed pots and give both it and the paint brush to Zeran.
"There's a veiled insult somewhere in there. Do you just keep me around to rub your ego, Lady Elena?"
"Among other things," she chuckled again as she turned to the table, turning back around with another paint pot and used brush. "Besides, there is nothing wrong with a little pride in your own accomplishments, is there?" She smirked at him, knowing the answer already again. "Now, how good are you with painting inside the lines?"
"A little better than an average child perhaps?" At his reply, Elena pointed towards the floor, still smirking. Thin, black outlines traced intricate pathways at his feet, running alongside each other, seemingly guiding each line either side of it. The outer edges reached away from him, looking as if they were grabbing at something invisible, but slipped into a more refined path, leading whatever gently towards the centre in spirals. Zeran realised that he was standing in the centre of one of Elena's glyphs, having a diameter approximately equal the the width of a man.
Tentative steps took him backwards and outside the glyph, as not to smudge it, giving him a good view of the overall thing. As was always with Elena Lariat, the glyph had time and effort put into its extravagant design. Nothing simple about the damn thing. Something as big as it was shouldn't have gone unnoticed as he entered the room, but Zeran had been focusing on the open air searching for traces of magic. Had he looked down, instead of overcomplicating things, he would've found the cause from the beginning.
"I'd prefer you didn't quite reach the line, instead of going over it. It's much easier to fix then."
It wasn't too difficult filling in the lines. All you needed to do was slather the centre of each section with a coating of paint. It did most of the work itself as it settled, spreading outwards towards the lines that Elena had laid out. She had said it was quicker to put some rough outlines down, touching up places later after the vast majority of the hard work had been done. Smooth lines was supposedly a must with glyphs of this scale. At palm sizes, any imperfections were not worth mentioning, as were any consequences of it usually. The bigger the glyph, the bigger the consequences, the more accurate it needed to be. The problem now was trying to get as close to the lines as possible with wet paint everywhere. He had unintentionally made his half of the glyph more of a challenge as Elena quietly worked on her half. Zeran mentally beat himself for not thinking that through.
The glyph that was coming into existence was known as, according to Elena, as a focus glyph. A glyph designed to take surrounding djed, or magic, an focus it into a single, smaller point with the same intensity. The design of the glyph had made sense once explained. Tendrils on the edges to snatch hold of it, pathways to gently guide it to the centre, and smooth lines so nothing got 'caught' on the pathways. Any stray magic was dangerous.
"The instances you have described are mostly the result of a focus glyph," Elena had explained. "It stores any magical activity, or even remembers a magical procedure. There have been some instances where a golem of Sahova was stored in its entirety within a glyph, being a construct completely born from and controlled by djed and magic. When it's not storing or remembering magic, it's channelling it, making it flow quicker and easier for a wizard to use. Hence the quicker Res production. I'm more interested in the magical procedure to begin with, but will be moving on to channelling after. It's why you're helping me Zeran. I need the help of your Projection capabilities."
She did that smile when she knew she was going to get what she wanted. He didn't have any complaints. This was one of her more tame experiments. It didn't sound like anybody was likely to get injured. Elena was almost a master in glyphing, so anything that was going to go wrong was Lhex having a laugh again. As long as she didn't push him further than he was capable, then using Projection wasn't going to be an issue.
The glyph was almost finished. Elena was going over all the lines, making any final adjustments needed to the lines. Smoothing them out, or accommodating for any imperfections. She expected no less quality in her own work than she did in that of the objects and people she surrounded herself with. She was good, and she knew it, and she wasn't going to let anybody else think otherwise.
Elena was spotless by the time the glyph had been finished. There wasn't a single drop or smear of paint on her. Zeran had not been so clean. His hands were as black as a Zith's, with specks all over his arms, torso and pants, with a big imprint of a part of the glyph across his face. Elena had laughed at the incident. Precision to a substantial level also required you to be relatively observant as well, and aware of your surroundings. Zeran had been paying so much attention to getting an accurate line, he hadn't noticed how close to the floor he was before he felt the familiar sensation of cold stone, and new sensation of wet paint, across his face.
"We can just wait for that to dry, and then we can move onto the next step." Zeran could hear her trying to keep any further laughter in from her voice. |
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