Open An interesting morning

[Thomas Cosa]

Keene's aura broke around the edges, a sight crackle heard as ripples brightened around the otherwise frozen essence. The ringlets grew as they moved from the edge, a sickly green rolling through the calm nothingness. Whatever the emotion, Thomas couldn't guess; it was too far dampened, he barely registered the change at all.

And the not knowing killed Thomas. He gritted his teeth, forced his sight deeper into the emotional void that was Keene's aura. His senses flickered, pushing against the hardness of his aura, pulling, twisting in an effort to dagger out the colors hiding behind the initiate's barrier.

"I don't know," Thomas snapped in response, clearly annoyed by the amount of energy he was casting off, "Magic is dangerous by nature, everything that happens here is a risk. Who knows? Maybe we'll set off the next petching Valterrian," he snorted crudely. Wouldn't that just be the biggest slap-in-the-face to the nuits of Sahova?

"Aurist's can overgive, if that's your question. Headaches, blurred vision. Nothing serious -- not at all like reimancy, apparently," Thomas shrugged, his tone more even as he pulled his magic back to shallows of Keene's aura. "World magic, of course, has it's own risks. Not overgiving, technically, even worse in some cases. Not only could a world mage destroy themselves, but they could leave something much more dangerous then a simple fire spell gone wrong," he left his words hanging, hoping Keene would ask -- oh, how he would love to talk about Dranira.

"Who initiated you into reimancy?" Thomas asked, considering a different sort of questioning. Keene had mention something about an initiation -- it had sounded disgustingly intimate to the animator. Maybe he could get a more potent reaction this way.

[Keene Ward]

Thomas had begun to look frustrated, even with his odd mannerisms, and when he snapped back his reply, Keene raised an appraising brow. His reply was rather crass as well, and Keene was beginning to suspect that auristics was far more draining and frustrating to maintain than the magic seemed. If his own aura was truly as muted as Thomas had described, Keene doubted Thomas was having an easy time reading him. The hunch was slightly comforting in the sense that even those who could read auras had a difficult time finding things out about him he preferred not to share, though he was not one particularly inclined towards secrecy. Everything Thomas had found so far was easily obtained through conversation, which Keene was willing to divulge once asked the proper questions. His life was not meant to be mysterious nor was it intended to be shrouded in shadow. While he didn't particularly trust any of the wizards of Sahova with his well being, the semantic and episodic details of his life were hardly anything more but trifles. Knowledge was an incredibly powerful tool, but Keene firmly believed that certain bits of it had more importance than others. He found it rather appropriate that a wizard might try to ascertain mundane details that would just as easily be shared.

Despite his small outburst, Thomas still answered Keene's question. From the sound of things, aursitics wasn't nearly volatile enough to cause serious side-effects, however he imagined that if one was able to overgive in the particular magic, there was certainly a point at which the consequences were surely just as destructive - if not more subliminal - as reimancy's. As Keene had come to expect, Thomas continued to elaborate, offering more information than he had asked for. While not clear on why Thomas seemed inclined towards over sharing, Keene was perfectly content to reap the benefits of it. He spoke of "world magic", a clearly understood distinction in his own mind, yet something that Keene had yet to add to his mental glossary. If it were as straight forward as it seemed, Keene assumed the classification to include animation and exclude reimancy, morphing, and auristics. The concept of voiding was still to unformed for him to make an educated guess, though he supposed it was possible it belonged in both. Either way, the thought of world magic brought up several questions, the largest of which was just what sort of devastation could a botched world magic spell cause. He kept the question in hand as Thomas asked his question.

The words hit him slowly at first. It was a perfectly understandable question, and Keene approached it as such initially. As his mind flicked to retrieve the necessary information, his vision clouded with the pale face, fiery hair, and lifeless eyes of Mella's body draped across the table. He paused, eyes staring past Thomas as his mind struggled to suppress the pull of despair that he had yet to develop full control over. It was a hollow pain, one closely knit with fear, confusion, and uncertainty: three things easily enough dealt with on their own, but incredibly powerful when joined together. Taking a few ticks to organize his thoughts, Keene finally managed to push past, his face remaining relatively impassive save for his lack of focus. "My late master." His voice was a bit weaker than before, and Keene cleared his throat to address it. "She raised me." Never once had Keene referred to Mella as his mother. Had he done so, he was certain her rage would have cause an explosion of rage so fierce that no man would have been able to keep his skin from searing off of his bones. Even after her passing, Mella was Mella, never mother. Keene let a few beats pass, the residual effect of the sudden resurface of memories he had pushed aside to be dealt with in the eventual future still pushing against the cracks in his psyche.

Blinking several times, Keene mentally floundered for the question he had arrived at only a chime before. "World magic." He blinked, blank face realizing it wasn't a question. "Excuse me," He shook his head, thoughts rallying. "What do you mean by something more dangerous?" It was a poorly phrased question, but Keene now had a reason to steer the conversation away from himself. Had Thomas been watching his aura, he had little doubt the spike of heavy emotion had been quite clear. Perhaps that was what the young wizard had been aiming for: a break in Keene's austerity. He hardly considered himself unbreakable, nor did he believe he was particularly abnormal. There was now something Keene wasn't entirely too fond of sharing, however he had agreed to the game. The best he could do now was attempt to steer it in his favor. Having done nothing to set himself up for control, however, he didn't feel to confident in his abilities. Thomas was, if nothing else, rather good at prying - more so than Keene's blatant interest.

[Thomas Cosa]

A resounding cracked echoed throughout Keene's aura, a sharp, delicate noise, splintering along the edges. Thomas felt a blush of feeling, a sudden explosion of internal something. It was deep, hidden, and sudden; primitive and all emotion. The warm liquid of raw feeling exposed itself, melting through the cracks, purple ooze. He breathed heavily, the heavyness of the emotions, too many for Thomas to count, too even try and decipher, pouring into him.

But only for a moment.

A sudden mist bloommed from the aura, rushing around the cracked edges, blocking the sudden expression. It poured into the very hardness of Keene, supporting it, cleaning away the purple liquid, the cocktail of emotion. It evaporated, thinning into nothingess, leaving only the clear blue of Keene's aura once again. As clean and perfect as it had been before.

"You do have incredible control, Keene," Thomas sighed, pulling his magic back, tearing it away from the hidden deepeness of Keene's soul, "But you faltered, there, for a tick," He smiled, skimming along the sharp edges of the initate's aura. There it had cracked, maybe Thomas could manage a better reading next time it happened. "You broke," He teased, his voice almost singing. It was an exagerration to be sure, Keene had far from broken, or even shown him much, but the wizard was happy to have caught what he had.

"She must have been very important to you. Where you intimate, I wonder?" He smiled, accenting the hard t's in the word, stretching the pronunciation ridiculously. Did he love her, his former master? Thomas considered the conversation, wondering where to take it -- as of now, Keene was only proving an interesting study. He wondered if he stuck with the topic of his previous master, when he switched to asking about the wardens, would he be more willing to open up?

These short answer sentences wouldn't be enough, then.

"And as for the dangers of world magic, Dranira, of course would be the prime example." Now it was his turn to tease information.

[Keene Ward]

It seemed that Thomas had been seeking a way to draw an emotional rise out of him after all. Keene merely frowned, at the man's statement. Of course he faltered, he was hardly infallible. He had little reason specficially to hide his past from the wizard before him, but he had all the reason not to relieve the memories. Sadness, loneliness, terror... They were useless emotions, things that existed only to be burdens that he had neither the time nor patience for. He had spent his entire life working to suppress them, avoid them, and he had become good enough at it that they rarely caused him issue. Whatever Thomas' obsession with them, Keene was far more intent on his own comfort than the flicker of interest that danced in the wizard's eyes. He had agreed to play the game, and he would continue to do so until it came to a conclusion. However, Keene had little intention of breaking down into a sobbing mess. Not only would that mean he had lost to his own weakness, but it would invariably be the end of his chance to gather more information about the World Magics, something he was loathe to pass up without a fight.

As was deserving of his ill thought question, Keene found Thomas' answers to be succinct and wanting, a teasing waste of another round. Thomas' question was strange, and Keene's frown was a vague representation of his confusion. He didn't understand where the other man had drawn from to produce his half-deduction half-inquiry. Finding no reason not to respond with truth, Keene blinked once before reply, voice steady and soft. "You needn't wonder. We were not." Keene knew very little about intimacy beyond several specific encounters, none of which had ever included Mella. She had been his master and purpose, and the moment she had died, she had taken both of those things with her. He had struggled long and hard, toeing the line between life and death in his apathy and directionlessness until Sahova. The island had wrapped itself around him, pulled him close to its breast and whispered the sickly sweet hiss of reason beyond purpose: power. And power was something most quickly gained through knowledge. Sahova had both, and Keene had arrived at the conclusion that neither were to be passed upon. Thomas had wasted his question, and the entire round had been a bit of flop.

Turning his attention back to the one he'd called "Drainira", Keene raised a brow, his mind whirring silently as his words calmly left his lips. "And what happened with 'Drainira'?" He was fully aware of the destruction thoughtless and uncontrolled reimancy could create. If "Drainira" was worse, Keene had a difficult time imagining how. Even the TAR before them seemed only a dead husk; something easily dispatched if it grew too out of control. Of course, Keene could only guess, and the information he had behind him was questionable at best. He regarding the wizard with a steady gaze, curiosity playing at the corners of his eyes, the memories of Mella already having been shoved out of his immediate consciousness. The dangers of World Magic was only one thing. There was still the matter of just how many magics there were, their capabilities, and - perhaps - how one might begin to learn them.

[Thomas Cosa]

There was more there, beneath the icy cover. He was forcing his magic against the aura's exterior, bringing like a hammer against Keene's emotional defenses. He breathed in, pulling it away, and out, forcing his spell against the Warden's chilly defenses. Nothing. He'd picked up the physical, the roughness of his skin, the smell of dirt and sweat, the softness of his hair. He felt the uneveness of scars and scabs. But nothing real. Nothing expressive.

He sighed, allowing his magic to skim again, a familair tiredness dragging at his eyes. His vision would blur, and then his words would slur, and then he would have to stop. He would stop. Despite his own cursoity growing, he couldn't keep feeding it forever. He would have to leave Keene at one point or another.

"You mean, you don't know? They haven't told you the horror that was, is, Dranira?" Honestly, Thomas didn't know himself, aside that she 'd betrayed and fled the Citadel. He imagined she was still functioning, she was a supervisor, but the specifics? Stranger hadn't known, and neither did he. "She fled the Citadel. Leaving a wake of destruction, and death, and misery. A big issue with the nuits. Mashaen, obviously, didn't get out of it with his reputation in tack." Thomas shrugged, sauntering closer to the warden, only stopping when he was uncomfortably close. A deliciously wonderfuly idea had struck. "But the really impressive part isn't all the people and nuit and whatever else she killed. It was that nothing could stop her from leaving. Nothing stopped her," he reiterated, "You know what the Wardens can do, Keene. You've heard rumors of what the masters do and create; hai, I'm sure you've seen some of there creations."

"And none of it could stop her. The island couldn't hurt her. And now, who knows where she is? What's she's planning? Who knows how much damage she could do, before something stops her -- if anything can, I wonder." He started to circle the warden, watching his aura. This will show me something. This will bring something out, he thought, sure of his plan.

"Well, if not with your master, then who? Have you ever been intimate," he laughed softly, stressing the word as he rotated the young man. He was hoping to make him uncomfortable, not to scare him -- Thomas was very aware how defensless he was, and very aware that Keene could and would probably kill him if he felt threatened. He would say something if aggression or fear broke through, enough to calm him, but he wanted to see something.

[Keene Ward]

Keene disregarded the first question. He was fully aware Thomas knew Keene knew little about it by his previous answer, and while Keene shook his head slightly, it was the only response he gave. Not personally one for theatrical effects, the tactics were often lost on him. He was able to identify the question as rhetorical as Thomas continued, a sly glimmer in his eyes as he moved closer. While Keene wasn't fond of contact of any kind, he was able to hold his ground in spite of the small crawling sensation of his skin as the wizard spoke of the deeds the golem had enacted in its escape. His lack of comfort was far more from the man's proximity than the story he told, though the facts and suggestions offered were certainly concerning. Thomas referred to it as "she", as if the automaton had had some idea of gender preference - though it was just as likely the human nature of personification.

The sheer unbelievable power Thomas seemed to allude to fit the lack of specifics. How the creature had managed to kill the wizards of Sahova was hardly of a consequence in the face that she had been an unstoppable force, something that not even the Wardens had been able to stop. He found the idea of a magical construct possessing enough power to decimate the security and strength of the island to be intoxicating. While his face remained steady, Keene's mind moved in measured analysis of what that power might even look like: a behemoth of metal and magic crashing down onto the feeble stone of the citadel's defenses, or perhaps a more elegant, deadly twist of wires and lightning. It was not necessarily something Keene aspired towards, but knowing of things that were in the realm of the divine when it came to strength, and that those heights could be reached by mortals, was certainly a tantalizing idea. It was what he sought after, the new purpose that had arisen out of the darkness of emptiness. To say that it consumed him was incorrect. It warmed him, flowed through him: he desired it as much as it desired him. Drainira had achieved that which Keene worked towards, and whether she were a creature born of another's magic, or a sentience destined for the reality bending majesty of an ascended, it was a reminder that his goals, as lofty as they seemed, were attainable.

As inspiring as she was, the loose golem was also cause for concern. Something as preeminent as Drainira out in the world wasn't nearly as difficult to imagine what might happen as her strength shared in soliloquy was. He imagined her intellect was not to be trifled with as well, as she had been something he'd neither heard of nor seen in any whispers or tales. Her escape had been one of death and destruction but deceit and subterfuge as well, otherwise the wizards would have, at the very least, been keeping an eye on her. So she was, essentially, a paragon of power in both mind and whatever was her equivalent of body. Certainly one of the most dangerous things Keene had heard off since his time on Sahova, which was saying something what with everything he'd already run in to.

His thoughts, however, were short lived as Thomas circled him, eyes watching him like those of a vulture, his voice pressing close against him. If Thomas wanted a reaction, he got it. While Keene did his best, the question caught him off-guard, something entirely his own fault. His mind had been entirely preoccupied with the nebulous traits of the creature known as Drainira. Once the question had been asked and Keene turned his attention to it, he was unable to quickly filter through his memories to choose what he wanted rather than was was merely pulled up by reflexive association.

Hot breath against his neck, the pain dulled by apathy as his glossy stare fixed on the ceiling. The rhythmic thrust rocking his body as the grunt of effort sounded gruffly above him. Weariness had replaced fear, tears long since dried to his face among other things. Shivers descended onto him, panting, laughter, warm and hot.

Clenching his jaw, Keene managed to get his grip around the memory, wrenching it from his consciousness and hurling it back into the depths of memory. His eyes flashed in a brief moment of unbridled frustration before he regained his composure, eyes level and icy with those of the other wizard's. "Several people, all nameless as far as I am aware." He knew they had all spoken their names at some point, but Keene had removed as many details from the memories as he could, instead only left with the emotional flashbacks. His voice wasn't quite strained, though there was a hint of distaste. Whatever Thomas was, Keene didn't want something with valuable information to become an enemy of sorts, no matter how much antipathy his emotions seemed to pit against him. Composing himself with a blink, Keene continued. "But I have participated in sexual intercourse, if that's what you're referring to." This time his words were much the same as before: soft and lacking much of any emotion. He would have liked to inquire as to why Thomas seemed so interested in him, but there were far better uses for his question.

"You spoke of world magics previously. What are each of the schools?" Preferably, as Thomas seemed the kind to like the sound of his own voice, the question would gain him a more substantial understanding of the magics beyond those he was already aware of.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas grinned stupidly; desire. He'd seen it, felt it's whiteness, it's heat. A simple response, and to Dranira, of all things. Keene managed to control it, icy coat still holding strong against the secret want, but Thomas could feel it even still. He briefly wondered at it, how such a story could bring anything other than worry or fear to show, and there were catches of other sensations, colors, but they were muted too much by the initiate's composure.

It was his question that would prove the real show.

A crack again, and Thomas smiled even wider. "You really shouldn't keep your emotions bottle up all the time, Keene. It isn't healthy," he tutted, a immense pressure falling off the aura. Thomas couldn't understand why there was a pressure now, when there hadn't been before -- or exactly what it meant. He caught a silky smell, wet and like rotten flowers. Like something that was suppose to smell pleasant, but ended up offending; a new emotion, or one Thomas hadn't encountered yet. Perversion, maybe? Disgust at his own pretended advances? Thomas snorted; he had once been considered handsome, at least before coming to Sahova. He had been popular enough on Mura, Keene would only be so lucky if Thomas was interested.

"And sounds kinky. You don't remember all of there names, there were so many? So popular, Keene," he laughed again, cruelly.

"I don't know all of the schools," Thomas shrugged, watching Keene's aura for any sign of disappointment. That, he knew would come. The initiate seem to strive for knowledge, and not being able to answer his question wouldn't be meet with approval. "I know of animation, alchemy, magecraft. I think whatever Wanda does with the spirits is one, too, but I'm not sure. I can tell you though, anything ritualized, anything with a circle," he mimed out a circle in front of himself, "Is a world magic. That's the main difference between that and personal magic."

Thomas paused, considering his next question, still far too close to Keene for comfort. "What is it you do here, exactly, Keene? What does an initiate do?"

[Keene Ward]

There was little doubt that Thomas was enjoying himself. His smile and jeering tone were both indicators that the man was invested in Keene's personal life for reasons beyond him. His comment of bottled emotions was hardly educational. Keene didn't bottle them, he simply moved them out of the way to free up processing power for things that were actually important. It seemed far less healthy to allow emotions any sort of driving force. If they weren't kept in check, it was highly likely they would get out of control very quickly. Still, Keene kept his eyes on the other man, unable to retreat to a more comfortable distance due to the circling nature of Thomas' advances. Any attempt to move away was quickly countered by a few simple steps, and Keene had little desire to dance with the man in any fashion beyond words.

The wizard asked a follow-up question, and while it broke his own rules, Thomas had allowed Keene his mistakes before. Blinking, his reply was deadpan, "Kinky?" The word wasn't something he recognized. "I don't remember their names by choice." He made no comment on his popularity, as he wasn't sure whether Thomas had made a reference to his sexual prowess or if he spoke of his general social standing. In either case, he wasn't particularly celebrated in any circle, but it had not been a question, and it wasn't a fact he desired to share freely. With the flash of memory out of his immediate consciousness, Keene was able to reply with little emotion, eyes level - though certainly not amused - with the searching gaze of the aurist. There was little about the pale, dark haired man specifically that interested him, but the knowledge he had of the arcane was well worth the pokes at his own competency as a human being. They were petty blows directed at the petty contrivance of self. Keene put little stock in who he was as a person, choosing instead to focus on what he could do as a mage.

At Thomas' admission of ignorance in regard to the overarching categories of world magics, Keene raised a brow, a small amount of surprise more than anything meeting the words. He'd expected, at the very least, a well presented lie. The honesty was as interesting as it was reassuring that what was being told to him was something that might require less salt than words from the lips of one Ms. Timpel. Still, the information offered was well worth the minor re-visitation to thoughts he preferred to keep buried. Animation had already been partially explained. Alchemy and magecraft were new and certainly interesting. He was already aware that Wanda's magic was of a different breed than his own, but Thomas didn't seem quite convinced that it feel under the banner of "world magic". He nodded at the explanation of the difference between personal and world magic. Rituals were only needed in the initiation of reimancy, and they certainly weren't needed for shielding. The concept of circles, however, was a bit strange to him. He wondered what exactly the circles did, or if they were simply part of the ritualistic nature of the magics.

Thomas' question, his true question, was a bit of a different approach. Keene frowned some at it, not out of displeasure, but more so a subtle response to the fact that it seemed, for the time being, Thomas had eased up on his attacks at his composure. He took a few ticks to reply, shifting his thoughts from his past to his present, all the while acutely aware of Thomas' proximity. The man smelled... Different from what Keene was used it. There was an artificial sort of metallic tang that mingled with the tell-tale scents of the living. It was as disconcerting as the man himself. "The initiates are charged with protecting the island." His eyes started blankly, subtly not his forte. "We kill what the wizards don't want anymore and those that wander out where they shouldn't." He wasn't sure what else to say. The mission statement of the organization he had been swept up into was much more simple in words than it was in practice.

With his answer given, Keene took a few more ticks to consider his next question. "In regards to animation," His steady stare kept even with Thomas' slowly, deliberate movements. "What steps are required to animate something?" The process of a ritualistic based magic was akin to knowledge of initiation. Keene wasn't sure he would be able to use the magic with whatever basics Thomas saw fit to share, but a better understanding of it would be more than enough. New magic of any kind for whatever purpose was not something to be passed so easily. If animation could create something as complex and efficient as the TAR while also being able to give birth to the creature that was Drainira, it was something that, at the very least, Keene found worth understanding as best he could.

[Thomas Cosa]

Pink swirled underneath the ice, delicate, light and fragile bits of a wind Thomas knew as surprise -- but at what? Perhaps his inability to response, as he'd guessed, considering he'd been so talkative before; although, anything he'd said, so far at least, Keene could've easily found in one of the many books that lined the Great Library.

Except maybe the bit about Dranira.

"The basics?" Thomas echoed, confusion coloring his own tone. That would definitely be easily found within the Great Library, or so he'd imagine; not that he'd ever needed a book with that kind of information. He wondered if Keene lacked access to the Library -- which would of course put Thomas in an enviable position. "You need a source frist of all, to create the soulcore -- like an imprint of the soul. So something alive.," Thomas paused, considering. He'd never had to explain animation before, at least not the basics of it. "And then you create the persona, like a personality. Sort of," he shrugged, not sure how much detail he wanted to give. Animation wasn't something he wanted people to learn. It was something special to him, and he didn't see any reason to share that withe someone he'd just met. "Then you establish the things it needs to know. Like a Follower golem would need to be able to say 'follow' or a door would need to know how to open. This is probably the longest part. The last part is the astral body. I mold the soulcore to fit the whatever-body, so it can move or do whatever it needs to, physically."

"And that's it really. The basics of animation."

Thomas wondered at his next question. He was already feeling the heavyness to overcasting. He sighed, cutting his connection to his Djed, his world coming back to the dullness of reality. "How do all the warderns guard the whole island? I mean, Sahova isn't huge or anything, but there aren't many of you, or so I've heard."

[Keene Ward]

Thomas took his time to answer Keene's question, his words precise but lagging as he mind moved to put things into place before his tongue. The explanation itself was relatively straightforward, though it was in no way comprehensive. Keene had requested the basics, and the basics were what was given to him. It wasn't difficult to determine that Thomas preferred not to teach Keene the magic of animation, but he paid close attention to what was shared regardless. The concept of the "soulcore" was confusing. Firstly, from the way the information was presented, it sounded as if the "soulcore" was something created by taking the life of something alive. He supposed that made more sense than breathing life into something from nothing. The actual creation of the core, however, was conveniently left out of the explanation. In fact, the entire process was explained without any hint as to how it was done, a clever and disappointing manner of reply.

The persona seemed irrelevant. The follower golems all seemed lacking in personality, and it was even something that wasn't all that necessary for human beings. A personality was more a needless individuality, something Keene supposed would make the animation more dangerous than useful - Drainira seemed a perfect example. Still, confidence was not sparked by idle abilities. If Thomas listed the persona as a necessary part, Keene had little reason beyond his own personal opinions to doubt him. The certainty of the basic explanation was hardly reassuring, and the manner in which one created a personality was beyond him. He imagined that the circles had something to do with it, though the specifics were beyond his capability of speculation.

Keene frowned at the "teaching" of the soul. It seemed a very lengthy sort of process for even the most basic of actions. He imagined a soul thrust into a new body would required extensive work to get it to move, let alone get it to do a specific task. His eyes fell to the follower, Stranger, appraising in his inner thoughtfulness. He wondered how many days it had taken for the creature to learn the proper diction and string of words to respond as it did. It seemed that animation was hardly a quick process. While Thomas explained the process as easily as one might describe putting on one's clothes with emphasis on the relative difficulty of tying one's laces, Keene imagined animation was much more work that the wizard let on. The casual nature wasn't enough to mask the intensity of the magic, nor the drudgery.

Thomas' question followed the new line of inquiry he'd chosen to pursue. There was a sigh as well - disappointment and weariness vied for the top possibilities of its origin. Keene thought about the question, eyes gathering a slight gloss as he ran over what all he knew of the guardians of the island. He wasn't sure how many of them there were, aside from the sectors and that there were initiates other than himself. "The Wardens guard specific sectors." He frowned. "I believe I misspoke. They don't guard the entire island, only the areas they're assigned to." Offering Thomas a steady stare, Keene noticed them man's gaze had lessened in its intensity, signaling the use of his auristics had come to an end. Weariness, then, seemed to most likely source of the sigh from before. "As to how," Keene shrugged. "I have a patrol route." He had little idea how the other areas of the island were handled, but he imagined it was something similar.

Having gotten an enigmatic answer in regards to animation, Keene tried once more to get more information on Thomas' personal magic. "How does one learn auristics?" While the words were suggestive, the tone was professional and distant. It was certainly not a request Thomas teach him, only that he explain. Keene had little doubt that Thomas, or any wizard for that matter, had any intention of teaching him a new magic without a price to be paid first. They had agreed to trade information; abilities were a step farther.