Closed [Wright Memorial Library] Curiosity

[Aoren]

7th of Summer, 514 AV
12th Bell

The sound of a quill pen scratching against the surface of a sheet of parchment filled the air in that particular corner of the Wright Memorial Library. This scratching was occasionally interrupted by the clink of that same pen against the glass of an inkwell. Aoren sat quietly taking down notes from the volume of text in front of him. Normally if he were visiting the library he would be carefully studying the pages of a book on one of the disciplines of magic.

That day however he was more interested in the books on medicine.
For the simple reason that he was a Healer, he was interested in expanding his knowledge so that he could better serve the people of Zeltiva. While medicine was not his main focus it was still important to him. In his twenty-five years in the world he had managed to accrue a small amount of knowledge in regards to medicine. Most of it was purely how to use herbs to greater effect in the healing process. The direct treatment and assessment of injuries and illnesses was beyond him. He was interested in changing that.

“The common cold can be more properly referred to as an infection in the respiratory system…”

Aoren pondered for a moment as he reviewed his relatively limited knowledge of anatomy. When he realized that the respiratory system was the same as the organs that enabled him to breathe he moved on in the passage.

“In order to treat the cold it must be approached by assessing the individual symptoms instead of the infection as a whole. There is no singular cure for the common cold except for the touch of a divinely blessed Healer. Rest and careful monitoring are typically the best remedies as treatment. However…”

Aoren went on to read a few suggestions that were put forward to assist in treating coughs, stuffy noses and headaches. He jotted down a few notes that he would quietly review at a later time when pursuing some of his duties as a Healer. He was about to turn the page in the book when suddenly there was the thud of books toppling from a shelf followed by a surprised yelp. Aoren arched an eyebrow slightly. Setting down his quill he rose from his seat at the small table reserved for studying to go investigate.

Rounding the corner of a tall bookshelf he spotted a figure under a small pile of books. It looked as if this person had reached for a particular volume and in the process brought several others toppling down with it. Not wanting to startle the person or perhaps invade their personal space without permission, Aoren cleared his throat softly. It wasn’t just the Healer in him that prompted him to try and help but it was generally in his nature to assist those he could. Clasping his hands behind his back he regarded the shifting pile of books with a concerned eye.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

[I'saya Tuvalik]

Wide brown eyes cast their gaze along the towering pillars that kept the arched ceilings of the Wright Memorial Library from crashing to the ground. The architecture was simply astounding, awe present upon the young woman's features as she ascended forward. A long pathway led the Reimancer into the library, her purpose clear. If I'saya was perfectly honest with herself, she knew nothing about the city!

She had followed directions to the libraries, bought her way onto caravans with performances that highlighter her own abilities. The Tuvalik could not help but capture attention with the profession that was passed down to her, but in turn, she lost out. The opportunity to learn and listen was lost as she spoke and demonstrated, and when she was traveling, she was either sleeping to recover, or speaking of her journey.

The path that I'saya was set upon was a divine one, cast upon her by the lord of flames himself, Ivak. The God had tasked the Tuvalik heiress with a journey to entertain and uplift, and it was just what she sought out to do. But, in order to entertain a completely different sort of people, one needed to learn about them, right? It was what she set out to do this day. The Azenth was intent on knowing about the culture she sought to entertain. Perhaps the knowledge of a local dance that she could incorporate into her routine. Or a particular flip or feat of acrobatics that she could emulate and augment through the utilization of Reimancy. The ideas were buzzing through the Azenth's mind, a flurry of rising, mounting thoughts. They welled in her head, a vibrant image of cheering patrons, hearts filled with elation as I'saya dedicated the cheers to Ivak. The young woman's heart nearly burst with excitement at the very thought.

When I'saya entered the library, she was glad for her choice in attire. Students and sailors populated the place in variable numbers, and she had no desire to mingle without purpose with people whose business it was to enlighten themselves. The woman's clothing was arranged to be inconspicuous, a loose shirt and her practice pants, which allowed her a tremendous freedom of movement. She nearly pranced about in her excitement, eyes alight once again as she spotted the stacks, rising above her head. The Azenth was already lost in them, even from afar. She had no idea where to enter from to tackle her desire, a frown pursing her lips. Chimes would pass in idle wandering as I'saya looked to books in random aisles, finding intriguing titles in their own right, but none that catered to the purpose she had.

In one aisle, she located a novelization of a young man seeking enlightenment at the tides of the ocean. She took the book, curious as to how it went on, moving forward. The next binding that caught her eye was titled, 'The Basics of Sailing', and she replaced it upon the shelves. Two more aisles brought two equally unappealing texts, until she spotted a single title. Gleaming in silver, calligraphic text, I'saya spotted the title, 'Inquisitive Feet: The Ocean's Sway'.

The title was rather straight-forward, and I'saya stood on her toes, reaching skyward in an attempt to grab the book. It resulted in failure, three books falling straight down. I'saya acted reflexively. The young Azenth's core muscles tightened as she leaped backwards, clearing the descent of the books, the texts falling to the floor with a loud thud, thought the immediate nature of the jump caused I'saya to lose her balance. When she did, she fell to her left side, but again, her body acted on her own. Her body span in a tight circle as she fell, both hands extending forward so that she caught herself in what would look to be a push-up position. Pressing downward, the Tuvalik's triceps burned with the motion of forcing her body upwards, her forward foot moving to support her weight before she spun about to meet an inquisitive voice.

The Tuvalik's cheeks flushed as the question was asked, an embarrassed laugh flowing from her lips as she nodded her head slowly. A man had come to her 'aid', asking her if she was okay, and the Tuvalik did not lie. She simply stared at the man's face, blank for several moments before deep brown eyes landed upon the shimmering mark upon his face. I'saya had no idea what it was, but it was incredibly shiny. A childlike curiosity pulled her forward, a hand rising, finger pointed forward. Two, three, four steps and it would nearly touch the man's face. A curious soul, I'saya was one that was unable to hold back her compulsions once she was set upon them,

"I'm fine. But... what's that on your face? It looks so pretty!"

The Azenth wanted to touch it, but manners held her back, if only just.

[Aoren]

Aoren blinked in mild surprise as a young woman with fiery red hair and bright brown eyes untangled herself from the books on the floor. She stared at him with almost childlike wonder for several seconds before bounding forward reaching up as if to touch the right side of his face. He nearly leaned away from the outstretched hand but refrained from doing so upon hearing the young woman’s question. She was not the first to stare unabashed at the mark spiraling on the right side of his face. The opalescent gnosis mark of Rak’keli had attracted a number of people’s curiosity in the time he had been graced with it. Some of those people were just curious observers others were people who recognized it and asked for his help.

“It is a blessing from Rak’keli, Goddess of Health and Healing.” There was an innocent curiosity sparkling in the young woman’s eyes that Aoren found amusing. It was not often that he saw something so pure. Stepping away from her hand he gave her a nod of his head. He offered no more explanation as to the mark beyond naming the deity who gave it to him. It didn’t occur to him that someone might not know who Rak’keli was or what she gifted to her followers.

“I am Aoren.” The inflection of his voice left one to infer that he was prompting the flaming haired young woman to offer up her own name. While he waited Aoren took the time to study her. Her frame was wiry and lean telling him that she was accustomed to physical activity. There was an inherent grace in the way she carried herself. Perhaps she was a dancer of some sort? It would certainly explain how she so easily picked herself up off the floor so smoothly and bounded over to Aoren so quickly. The clothes she wore were simple but rather than detract from her appearance they seemed to give her a more wistful air of freedom. If anything her clothes seemed geared toward allowing great room for range of motion. Casting his gaze to the small pile of books on the floor he nodded toward them.

“Do you always take to reading on the floor?” It was a polite attempt at making light of the situation to alleviate whatever feelings of embarrassment she might have felt. Stepping past the young woman Aoren knelt down next to the books picking them up one by one. He did so with a quiet reverence that could tell any casual observer he had a great deal of love for books. The knowledge that they held were immeasurably valuable to Aoren. If there was one thing in all the world that Aoren could consider a treasure it would be books. When he’d collected the tomes in his arms, there were only seven in all, he rose to his feet turning to face the young woman again.

“Would you mind helping me place these back on the shelves?” He left unsaid the fact that it was she who knocked them off in the first place. Whether intentional or not. Aoren gave her a kind smile.

“So, what brings you to the library today? I’m no librarian but as a student of the University I find myself spending a lot of time here.”

[I'saya Tuvalik]

It was a deep, insatiable curiosity that compelled I'saya Tuvalik to continue speaking to the man. He called himself Aoren, but it was the talk of a Goddess that intrigued her so much more. Goddess of Health and Healing? It seemed like a rather intriguing concept, and if Aoren was marked by the Goddess, it told her something of him. Health and Healing... perhaps the man was a doctor of some sort?

"Huh. The only God I've ever known is blessed Ivak."

A small smile graced the Azenth's lips, though the expression extended as her heart swelled with adoration for the God that had saved her from despair. The few that I'saya had spoken to about the God called him a murderer. A destroyer of worlds and an unstable, dangerous being. The young woman did not understand how one could speak of her saviour with such horrible intolerance. How could they blame the God for the betrayal of another? Manipulated, tormented and subjugated was the fate of the God of Fire. Captured and imprisoned for centuries.

The God had told I'saya that much herself, and it haunted her. How could I'saya ever hate or fear a God who could experience such depth of emotion? How could she ever despise or abandon her faith in a being who understood her pains and joys so intensely? How could she turn away from a being who was so very powerful, so good, yet at his core, so very similar to her? Ivak knew the pains of loss, he understood the depths of emotion, for he was emotion. It was his humanity that drew I'saya to Ivak. And salvation at his behest only made her devotion so much greater. She had been captured and subjected to the worst of things: isolation from her family. Kidnapped, plucked from her whimsical existence. The Tuvalik had been lost, and only Ivak had restored her to life.

The Tuvalik breathed a deep, soothing breath as she looked to Aoren again. Her mind flared with the depth of her appreciation, Ivak's words brought to her once again as she asked of Aoren,

"Do you love the Goddess that marked you, Aoren? Are you devoted to her? Or is the mark just that?"

I'saya asked for she herself had wondered the same thing about her family before obtaining her gnosis. I'saya had wondered the same thing about herself before she burned her world to the ground, only to be saved and a new world created for her by a God that most saw only as a destroyer.

The young woman touched Aoren's mark, a traced line before she realized what she was asking. The Tuvalik had gone far too personal far too quickly, and decided to heed the man's words, which she had somehow ignored in the reverie of her own musings. The Tuvalik heiress flushed with embarrassment as she realized just how deep she had fallen into it, and his questions, followed by a sudden request to pick up the books with him. She fell to the floor and picked five of the books from the floor, leaving the other two to Aoren. She held the books she had decided to keep close to her heart as she finally answered,

"I'm so sorry, Aoren. My name is I'saya Tuvalik. I came to the library today for a simple purpose. Ivak... he has tasked me to entertain. It is my purpose in this life. But, the conundrum I face is simple. I have no idea what entertains here!"

An exasperated frown pursed her lips, the expression nearly a pout as she continued on,

"I am an acrobat and a dancer. A wielder of fire and earth in Ivak's name. I entertain by putting on a show as a firedancer, and I wanted to incorporate a native dance or routine into my own so that Zeltiva could learn about Kalean culture: The Tuvaliks, but still be able to relate to home. Does that... make sense?"

Part of her was unsure. She was so used to her own routine that part of her wanted Aoren to insist that she could keep it the same as it was. Though, this was misguided.

He's probably never even seen a Tuvalik's routine, I'saya. Why are you asking him?

Because he's from here. It makes sense to ask a native what entertains them!

[Aoren]

It took a few moments for what the young woman said to process in Aoren’s mind. He stared at her uncomprehending for roughly thirty ticks completely unable to wrap his head around the words that had come out of her mouth. Then it hit him. She had said she was “blessed” by Ivak. Ivak, the very deity who was responsible for the Valterrian. It was a story that he’d grown up being told. How Sylir so loved humanity that he sacrificed himself to soothe Ivak’s rage before it could consume the world. Aoren blinked at this young woman.

“Ivak? You worship Ivak? The Worldbreaker? Why?” Aoren’s tone wasn’t biting. It wasn’t condescending or accusatory. It was confused. He couldn’t understand how a mortal could bring themselves to worship such a furious deity. Aoren was certain that all of the gods had their reasons for why they were the way they were. It was just shocking was all. In all of his years Aoren had never met someone who professed so readily that they were a follower of the God of Fire and Aoren could see quite clearly that she meant what she said. Her eyes lit up. Her posture relaxed in what he assumed must be thoughts centered around the deity. Then came her abrupt question. He quirked his head in thought.

“I don’t know. I revel in the gift that she has given me. I strive to honor her trust and fulfil the oath I made in serving her. It would…” He paused searching for the right word. “…it would sadden me if I ever disappointed her. I cannot say that is something akin to love. I do, however, trust that she has just as much faith in me as I do her. Is that love though? Honestly it is something that I have not thought about before, to bring myself to love a god. Serve, honor, worship and exalt, yes. Those are all things I think about. But…not love.”

Aoren had been in the presence of this young woman for no more than five chimes and already she was proving to be one of the most interesting people he’d ever met. He studied her intently as she ran her fingers along the lines of the mark gracing the right side of his face. Aoren considered his gnosis marks to be fascinating treasures. Once, long ago, they might have been something he tried to hide but that time had long since passed. He did not flinch away from her touch. A slight smile twitched across his lips at her embarrassment. He nodded when she finally introduced herself.

“I’saya. It is a pleasure to meet you.” His words held no ounce of cynicism or sarcasm. There certainly was a note of truth to the statement.

“Wielder of fire and earth?” The acrobatics and dancing Aoren had understood. This young woman was an entertainer. She lived the life of a performer. The idea of her dancing in front of a crowd performing feats of dexterity seemed in perfect harmony with her apparent disposition. It somehow just clicked into place. Her mention of wielding earth and fire however caught his attention.

“What do you mean when you say that? Are you a potter as well?” Clay workers used kilns which had to be lit by fire. Clay was of the earth. It made sense to him. He chuckled at the notion then deigned to comment on her question.

“Yes, it makes sense. The best way to entertain an audience would be to know your audience. It is the smart thing for a performer to do. Were we in Syliras I would be able to help you in that regard. As it stands I am a visitor to this city just as you. I am just a man who has come to study at the University.”

[I'saya Tuvalik]

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It was when the term 'Worldbreaker' came up that I'saya felt a change in the atmosphere around Aoren. The man did not say the word with a bite nor a condescending tone. He did not jibe or mock at I'saya for her faith, but the word, along with the other title 'The World Destroyer', rubbed the Tuvalik the wrong way. It was intolerance. Aoren spoke with what could be interpreted as understanding in his voice, but it was very clear that he saw Ivak as nothing more than a destroyer. It was because he was unaware. Ignorant of the true meaning of what the God of Fire was. The meaning was lost in the midst of his new legacy.

A legacy that completely darkened the light that I'saya, a girl who had met the God in person, knew to be but a sliver of what Ivak was.

Ivak was passion. Release for such passion, understanding of it. The sphere and depth of what he could feel was staggering. The compassion that I'saya knew him to have had was, in hindsight, unbelievable. The God of Fire had taken the time to come to I'saya in the darkest moments of her life, in the wake of the flames that would destroy her. No other being understood her to such a capacity. None took the time to delve into conversation and teach her. I'saya had been suffocating on the flames that she herself had created, and Ivak made for certain that I'saya would never have to fear the flames again.

Aoren seemed unsure about his faith, by his demeanor. His speech. Three words spoken and his answer had already been etched. Further elaboration merely proved to the Tuvalik that Aoren was undecided in this aspect of his life. Faith was not something to be juggled about or flippantly understood, and the Tuvalik could forgive Aoren for his slip in vocabulary. If only because she pitied him.

"No, Aoren, I do not worship Ivak. That's what it seems like you do with this Rak'keli. Ivak is my saviour. Desperation, despair. From those, I was liberated.

I was not born in Sylira. I'm originally from Kalea, near the city of Alvadas. I moved to Lhavit as a young girl and performed in the city with my family as a firedancer."

The Azenth's eyes flared with recollection as she was brought to the past, girlish laughter audible in the midst of juggling torches. Small burns and scratches on her arms as she reveled in an existence with followers of Ivak, though she had not yet received his mark.

"Moving forward... I was taken from my home, lost to my family..."

The Tuvalik's fingers clenched into fists as the vibrant recall of her kidnapping was brought to life. This was by no means an easy thing for her to share, but she so despised the use of the term 'Worldbreaker' that she needed Aoren to know her testimony to Ivak. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she went on,

"I was taken for my gift. Ivak's gift of fire was in my heart since I was a child. I was taken because of the fact that I was a Reimancer."

There was no shame in her voice, nor did she shy away or divert her gaze from Aoren. The Tuvalik owned up to what she was. To her power. It was a gift that her family had given to her to pay homage to Ivak, and she would never deny it.

"I tore myself from the grip of my kidnapper. Flames consumed the prison that I was thrown into, but I didn't stop it. I was going to burn to death with my oppressor, but I wasn't. Because,"

Tears welled in the Azenth's eyes, spilling from the lids as she trembled slightly. The Azenth's lips were curled into a grateful smile as she continued,

"Ivak saved me, Aoren. He tore into the flames and wore them upon his feet. He spoke to me. Ivak did not just save me, but he made sure that I knew why I was saved. He made sure that his fire could never harm me again. And then..."

The grin that poured upon her features was vibrant with joy, completely in conflict with the tears that streamed down her cheeks. The girl's eyes were alight, albeit gleaming with tears, with a pure, unbridled joy.

"He gave me life. He gave me purpose. If the commitment you have to Rak'keli is like that of Galifer Odalah and dear Kova, then that is worship. I cannot consider myself a worshiper of Ivak by that logic. I am an instrument of his will."

The Tuvalik did not detail her purpose to Aoren, for she had already done so. When she had finished speaking, a hand rose to wipe the tears from her eyes, an uneasy chuckle escaping her lips as she again realized just how quickly she had shared herself with Aoren. It was not the first time that it had happened, but it was a perpetual surprise. It was not in I'saya's heart to deny her love for Ivak. Nor did she allow others to keep their perception of him as the 'World Destroyer. She hated it.

Aoren's questions were all answered by her outburst, and she felt no need to elaborate upon them. Her testimony had released the frustration she had with Aoren's ignorance. And with that release, I'saya found a vibrant satisfaction. The Azenth heard that Aoren was from Syliras, a frown pursing her lips at the mention of the city. She did not enjoy the place. It was a prison. One that prevented her from using her magic in conjunction with her purpose. She felt broken while there.

That city... Syliras... it's not worthy of the Ivak's light.

The Tuvalik pondered asking Aoren about the life of a student, but she felt that perhaps he would need a moment to digest her tale. They usually did.

Common | Arumenic | Fratava

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[Aoren]

Aoren quietly listened to the story that unfolded before him as he placed what books he had left in his arms upon the shelves. I’saya spoke of her god with such unabashed adoration and wonder it warmed Aoren’s heart. He regarded the red haired young woman kindly giving her an understanding nod of his head.

“I am glad that you can live with such passion.” He stepped closer to her politely taking her left hand in his right. It was then that the Mark of Avalis would become visible. The stylistic lily that shimmered as if were painted with starlight.

“I’saya, I hear in your words the belief that I am ignorant of who and what the gods are. You stand before me a testament to the very wonders that the Eternal Powers are capable of.” Aoren’s gaze lingered on where their hands touched. His grasp was gentle easily broken with the slightest of whims should the young woman chose to break it. In that touch however, Aoren had the opportunity to See exactly what she spoke of. His cobalt blue eyes, the calm pools opposite to I’saya flaming red hair, lost focus. The bitter world that wrapped itself around all mortals fell away until Aoren beheld the corridors of the Divines themselves. Across his consciousness I’saya’s words echoed and as they rung in his ears like a nocturne heralding the very events she described.

Aoren saw I’saya’s struggle. He felt her panic. He witnessed her terror and her rage. He accepted her despair and he soared with her in elation.

All within the span of a few breaths as the vision passed before his eyes. With nothing more than a tired sigh and a blinking of his eyes, his irises regained their focus. He rolled his head as if rising from a dream and blinked a few times. Not but a few ticks passing before he continued with his words.

“I hear the salvation in your story and I am filled with joy that you are so fortunate to have been blessed with the gift of a god.” Aoren released I’saya’s hand bringing up the Lily marked one to linger over the spot where Ivak had so touched the young woman. He did not touch her merely gestured to it. Stepping away Aoren clasped his hands behind his back studying I’saya as he spoke.

“No. I do not love the gods. How can I? I am but a mortal. What is my life in the great weave of their immortal designs? A drop of water with only the barest of ripples. But though I do not, cannot even wrap my head around the idea of loving a god, that makes me no less devoted to them. ” He quirked his head closing his eyes in thought.

“Ivak saved you. This I know and understand. Believe me when I say I bear neither you nor your god any ill will. However, what of the lives he didn’t save? Nay, what of the lives lost because of him? Ivak is the Worldbreaker. This is a truth that is as undeniable as Time itself. But,” Aoren held up a hand in point of fact to stay what outbursts might flow from the young woman’s mouth.

“That is not all of who he is. You, I think, represent more of what he is, of what he is capable of. A fact I think the world has forgotten.” Aoren’s face became pensive. His tone and demeanor throughout his explanation was neither insulting nor accusatory. Quite the contrary it was rather calm and inviting of conversation. Though the young man in front of the Azenth might have appeared reserved, in his own way there was a passion that burned in his eyes albeit of a different sort.

“Would you care to join me for a walk? You said you were a reimancer? I am too. That’s not the magic I’ve come to study though. I am learning of a few others.” He gave I’saya a slight bow then turned as if to exit the aisle they were presently standing in by angling his body slightly toward the library entrance. His head was quirked and there was a patient smile on his face.

[I'saya Tuvalik]

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The Tuvalik's gaze fell to Aoren's wrist when he grabbed her hand. Immediately, she noted a second gnosis mark. Elevated, brilliant, nearly alive upon the skin that it inhabited, I'saya pursed her lips for a moment as Aoren addressed himself as a testament of the other Gods. Yet, he did not love them. They had pressed their mark upon his skin, faith reciprocated and understood. I'saya did not understand the depth of his worship, nor the extent of the man's faith. She listened to Aoren as she raised her hands to her eyes, drying her face of tears filled with adoration for the God that the Rak'keli marked so chose to slander. His words stabbed at her, for he spoke them with a resolve that spoke of logic and a clear mind.

Two things that I'saya could not fathom to experience.

A product of feeling and passion, perpetuated and drawn to the extremes of emotional release, I'saya did not understand what it was to pause and consider. She praised the name of Ivak, reveled in his blessing, and lived solely for the cause of his intent. She could not question it, or debate it. She knew nothing else, for that purpose became everything. And in his logic, Aoren demaned I'saya. Brown eyes steeped with frustration as she fought in her mind for the words that would counter and redeem her God. Ages seemed to pass in the Tuvalik's mind, though it was but a moment before her lips parted to reply,

"Mortals have become Gods, Aoren. There is more to a person than the breadth of their power. You raise the Gods above yourself, you place them as unreachable, infallible beings so much greater than ourselves. Yet... the mark I bear tells me that not all of us are meant to be that way. We're meant to live in communion with the Gods that you seem to distance yourself with."

I'saya spoke with a conviction in her heart, her eyes staring at Aoren, into him as she again flashed to the incident of her encounter with the God.

"I do not worship blessed Ivak. I love him. In that love, I see him as more than just a being to be feared. More than just the Worldbreaker, as you call him. A side that few others understand of him is brought to life because Ivak chose to save me. He extended his friendship to me. He extended his love to me. And he has plans for me. How wouldn't I love him?"

The question was a practiced one. In truth, Aoren was lost in the midst of a debate that she had engaged in various times. Few understood Ivak. Fewer still could forgive him for a crime that did not involve them in the slightest. It was despicable in her eyes that a God would be punished for something that humans would do to one another if given the chance.

"Why wouldn't I love him? The Gods are beings that obviously want to factor into our existences. They want to know us. But more importantly, they want us to know them."

She was closed-minded to his rebuttal, but when he mentioned a want to walk, I'saya immediately took to the offer. People were turning to face the two who were so involved in an uncomfortable discussion, and the Tuvalik felt a very fervent desire to leave. It was the inevitable conclusion to her outbursts about Ivak. People did not agree with them.

"Yes... let's go..."

Aoren mentioned his ability with Reimancy and I'saya was all too willing to change the subject. She did not want to explode again. She had done so before and it ended with pain. Heavy emotion laden with potential burns. Having to find new caravans to travel with. Then explaining what had happened... It was nightmarish.

"Other magicks? It never occurred to me that there were others... What do you mean?"

Common | Arumenic | Fratava

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[Aoren]

“There are many different paths of magic, I’saya.” Naïve. That was the word that came to Aoren’s mind as he walked beside the young woman. Although he wasn’t entirely certain that word was appropriate to describe her either. She was strong in her convictions, almost to the point of being blinded by them. She was aware of the darkness in the world but yet she could not see the mistakes wrought by the hand of the very deity she proclaimed to love with such passion. In Aoren’s mind that did not lessen the god. Indeed it made the deity seem more approachable. Ivak was not a being Aoren knew all that much about especially compared to one of his marked followers. For the moment though the subject was better left alone.

“I myself practice five different forms of magic.” It was not often that Aoren encountered people on the University grounds that weren’t at least aware of the fact that there were different disciplines. While the average person had no idea just how many there were the stories that circulated the world over concerning wizards would certainly suggest they used different methods of magic. Aoren held his hands loosely behind his back. He guided them in the direction of the Scholar’s Forum where conversations about all number of topics were to be found freely flying through the air.

“For instance, I practice reimancy but I also practice a magic called Auristics.” As he put the name to the magic Aoren drew upon his djed. The manner in which he chose to internally manipulate it caused it to move slowly to his eyes as he drew upon the power of Auristics. With each step he worked toward extending his own aura outward that it might brush up against the outer most threads of I’saya’s. Slowly his own aura would harmonize and synchronize with hers until he could perceive with his eyes the barest hint of her emotions.

“Excuse my silence, I am actually using Auristics right now. It allows me to see your aura, among other things, and with careful study I can learn small pieces of information about you. The magic is still somewhat new to me. It will be some time yet before I can use it easily.” Aoren shrugged his shoulders glancing over I’saya’s aura once more testing for what he might be able to assess when it bubbled to the surface. Aoren was not yet skilled enough to really discern anything in-depth or meaningful about a person’s aura. People were very complex and quite different than staring at a block of wood or a bowl of soup. He released the hold he had on the magic allowing his auristic senses to fade. Blinking a few times he rubbed his eyes briefly.

“It might prove to be a useful magic to you. If you grew skilled enough with it you could study the mood of a crowd you were entertaining and figure out what they respond to best.” It was most definitely a very practical idea to Aoren. It would have made sense given the young woman’s profession. Aoren gave her a few moments to process all of this information before clearing his throat and opening his next statement with a question.

“So, if it is not rude of me to ask, what elements do you work with in your reimancy? What element was your first to discover?” Aoren had found that one could gain a little bit of insight into a person’s demeanor with that knowledge. He felt the element that most resonated with a person was often a reflection of their spirit and their personality.

[I'saya Tuvalik]

To say that I'saya knew only of Reimancy as a magic was perhaps incorrect. The Tuvalik was aware of other magical abilities, such as Glyphing and gnosis. However, she did not strike them in the same category, as neither relied on one's own reservoir of djed to elicit an effect. The Azenth, by the nature of her own blessing understood gnosis. Much of her education in the realm of the magic that stemmed from the Gods came from her own experience with Azenth. It was an intimate connection, and one that she treasured immeasurably.

However, the moment was not now to think on such a matter. Glyphing was a magic I'saya understood far less, knowing it by name merely from listening to the horrible man mumble as he fiddled with a set of strange tools. As I'saya listened to Aoren, she nodded politely, allowing the strange man to pull the djed from his soul, as I'saya assumed he was doing. The time it took to do it instantly told I'saya that Aoren was not a well-learned practitioner in the craft. From I'saya's experimentation with the art of Reimancy, she had become aware that pulling djed and moulding it into Res was something that became more fluid with time. The principle had to apply here, as well. After all, djed was akin to a muscle or a habit. One must practice with it in order to grow stronger in their practice.

However, when Aoren continued to explain the craft, and how he could use it to learn about a person, I'saya could not help but listen and disagree. To gauge the mood of the crowd and manipulate their responses? It was, perhaps, to a more conniving or ambitious person, a good idea. But, I'saya was very quick to vocalize her opinion about it. A pout formed upon her lips as she shook her head twice,

"Cheater! Cheating! No, no no no! I can't do that! To manipulate the hearts of the crowd by gearing my routine to satisfy them is lazy, Aoren! It means that I can slack off, that I can call it quits and make things easier on myself. That's not in the spirit of it all!"

The girl was not angry, but she had quickly become excited, her cheeks puffing up for a moment as she placed her hands on her hips, bright brown eyes bright and eager to express themselves as she continued on,

"Plus, it took you that long to read me and I'm an open book!"

She chuckled at the admission before she continued on for elaboration,

"I won't deny the utility. To learn about a person can be great so that I could maybe help them. But! In that particular situation, it's just cheating. Besides, it took you, what? A chime? And I'm just one person. How much longer would it take to read an entire crowd and accurately gauge their feelings? And even then! What about my remaining reservoir of djed? I use Reimancy in my performances. And I also move and jump. I can't be tired in the middle of it all!"

She laughed in a moment of exasperated admission before she tugged upon the reaches of her soul.

"Take a step back."

I'saya did not want to explain her capabilities as a Reimancer, she would merely show them. The Azenth allowed fresh air to pour into her lungs as her eyes shut, her hands rising to her chest, forming into a cup as she willed Res to ooze from her pores. It steeped from her skin and took the form of a vermilion gas, permeating upon her flesh, caressing her skin and wafting, rising, falling.

It seemed as if the Res were uncontrolled, yet the movements were slow, rhythmic, and attuned to I'saya's breathing. And then, right upon the surface of her skin formed fire. Transmutation set the outer layer of the res ablaze, glowing flames reflecting upon her eyes, vivid, bright brown seeming almost orange in the light. Her gnosis flared with the contact of flame upon flesh, the heat permeated upon her skin, a pleasant tickling sensation welling as tiny hairs stood on end.

It quickly became clear that the flames were merely a show. A single layer of gas, a film that stretched upon her skin was ignited, and with the consumption of that layer, the flames died away. I'saya had no intention of using more Res than was necessary to show Aoren her power.

As she focused upon her next task, streams of Res rose from the condensed vermilion gas in her hands and entwined together, a ribbon of gas separating from the whole before separating into three distinct pyramids. Transmutation was willed once again, the three pyramids turned to coal before falling to the floor, crumbling upon impact with the floor. It was with the remaining Res that I'saya was to build her spectacle. All of her life was a performance and this was no different. Another breath was taken, a grin plastered upon her features as the sheer, vibrant joy of casting fell upon her.

Deep shivers coursed through the girl's spine as she willed the gas to condense, as she had before. Though this was clearly different. All of it did not condense, I'saya maintaining a film upon the surface of the solid fixture before she rose the Res, the concentration a sphere approximately eight inches wide, from her hands. It floated in the air, pulsating, breathing, a living beat whose vermilion hue vibrated with each breath I'saya took.

Both Earth and Fire. In this scenario, one did not exist without the other. Both were one, solid earth and vibrant flames in combination. It was the mindset that she sought after in this moment as she willed transmutation to transpire once again.

Solidification was the first will that struck the Res, earth seemingly forming before her eyes before it glowed with the strength of flame. It burned, hotter and hotter. Raging, blistering heat radiated from it all until the rock became molten in composition, solidity waning and a vibrant glow flush across the surface of the Res until it was turned into lava.

This process took much longer than fire, which was I'saya's first and truly mastered element. It was kindred to earth in formation, taking three ticks to condense the Res, though the process to heat had taken another six, easily. I'saya was glad to see that at the very least, she was improving in her ability to create it. After all, she was not used to it. Lava had very little use on the performance stage. Ivak's molten earth served a higher purpose.

I'saya willed for the molten lava to solidify with the last of her Res, an earthy orb, still glowing from the exposure to heat, falling to the floor as bright laughter trickled from the Azenth's lips.

"I told you earlier. I am a wielder of Fire and Earth in the name of Ivak, and with the knowledge of both elements, I have also trained for the ability to create lava, though this creation is not to be taken lightly."

Lava could harm even I'saya, something that fire could not do. Something that Earth would not do. Though she could conjure the lava, she was not its master. Ivak did not yet give her power over his greatest strength. I'saya did not need it. She craved it, the greater blessings of Ivak, but she was not yet at the point in her existence that Ivak deemed her needing more of his power.

Someday... he will see me as more.

Common | Arumenic | Fratava