Of Plague and Sight (the sequel)

[Thomas Cosa]

Turning over the inked page, Thomas started the lesson, "So, from the beginning." He hadn't bothered to get a new sheet, and while the leftover pattern of a never used animation circle lightly showed through the parchment, it would do well to cover the basics of animation.

"Animation seeks to copy the soul, every single layer as best the animator can," he began, drawing a small circle. Slowly, he traced another, larger circle around the first, and then, another circle, larger than the last two. Finally, he squiggled a roundish shape around the entire drawing, making a point to not have it as perfect, or easily identifiable as the last three. "This," he pointed at the drawing, "Is the soul. Combined of four layers, some may argue three -- we'll get into that later --, this is the layout of every and any animation since Yovinkus Wotch mastered and made the craft what it is known as today."

"The innermost circle has two different names, one regarding to an actual soul, and another replied to an animated one. Soulcore for the real deal, and Life Principal for what we'd make during an animation," Thomas paused, considering whether to expand on the actual animation process no; he decided not to, preferring instead to go more into the actual theory of animation if and when they animated anything. No point in giving knowledge for knowledge's sake after all.

"Then we have the second layer, the persona," the animator pointed at the second circle, "In a soul, a truly living being, such as you or I, it contains the personality. It holds our memories, our skills, who we are in the current life. Supposedly, it gets stripped and remade with each reincarnation, but that's neither here or there in matters regarding animation," shrugged, "In animation, the persona stores the skills and memories needed to get the automata or golem to act as it should, and the directives ensure it acts as you wish."

Thomas nodded, pointing to the third circle, "The astral body is the last layer we, as animators can truly manipulate. Molding and pulling and melding all the information together, setting the everything in the right place. Does more or less the same in our bodies as well.


"The fourth circle, the aura, has been the center of much debate," Thomas hesitated, struggling to form the thoughts on the aura, "Some argue it can't be considered a layer of the soul, because animators can't manipulate it in any way. Some say it's the residue of our soul, while I am on the former party. Besides, as I have dabble in auristics, I know everything to have an aura," he added, knocking on the table to drive the point home, "Even this table has an aura, but I know it doesn't have an aura."

"And because of there trust, and faith even, in magic, society was able to prosper and become more than it ever have been -- and even is today," he gestured to the library around him, "Here is what we are driven to, those who would see magic and society rise once again to what it once was; driven to an island stuck in the past, refusing to do anything for the future."

[Wrenmae]

He was beginning to become more confident in magical theory. As always, the all-powerful circle dominated the discipline. As the ink dried, he traced his finger along the layers of circles, memorizing their placement and how they interacted. Part of the learning process was simply understanding. A mage was only worth their weight in intelligence. Any reimancer could sling a bolt of fire, but to cunningly immolate someone with candles while their feet were bound in stone...that took some manner of planning and talent.

With all things, especially Animation, it came down to the intuition of the caster. What does one use for the materials? How does one incorporate the various functions of movement?

Thomas was kind of enough to continue teaching, and Wren listened. He kept his comments reserved, allowing the mage to continue his lesson both visually and oratorically until he had paused at the end to take a breath. Looking across the table at him, Wren offered a toothy grin.

"The nuits slave for a repository that is already enough to conquer all Sylira prehaps. One wonders what they are waiting for? The trouble with the nuits is that their concept of time has been eradicated...the older they are, the more patient they can afford to be. Sahova has not marched or brought meaningful change BECAUSE they do not have the urgency we have." He reached up and pounded his fist against his chest, "Beating heart. Blood. Bone. Life. We are the world, not those shadows, has-beens of a earlier era. It falls to the current generation of the living to make the changes the dead are too slow to implement...don't you think?"

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas smiled, quick to return the hypnotist's grin. The pulser easily listened to his words, eagerly even; the urge to bring change and action to a world ravaged by savagery and ignorance, to enlighten perhaps. Or to destroy, and rebuild better than before. Or, as Thomas would have put it, to rearrange the world to better suit himself, to make it into something completely, and uniquely his own.

"You'd be surprised," Thomas snorted, his smile twisting into a knowing smirk, "They could easily take the region," he paused, his finger thoughtfully tapping against his chin, "Actually, I'd be surprised if they couldn't retake the entire continent, if they were ever bothered to leave the Citadel, but like you've said, they have the whole of entirety to make their move," he sighed, "But I agree, if we'll never see anything of the old empire in our lifetimes. At least our current ones, in any rate."

A tick of silence passed between the two pulsers before Thomas spoke up again, "How would we convince them, if they even allow us that, to act now?" It was said in a low whisper, his eyes flickering towards the constant moving library golems. Thomas had worked long enough in Lab 15 to know that even at your most alone, there was someone listening, always.

"And perhaps...we might considering moving to a more discreet location? Maybe outside the Citadel?"