Closed Two Way Street

[Eithne]

The Dusk Tower? She knew of the place. It was difficult to live in Lhavit and not hear of the famous "Towers" with their long winded reputations. She had been in the process of trying to muster up the courage to ask for lessons there. But the prospect of being a student was wholly foreign to the half-breed. She always preferred her own method of learning, not ones that were arbitrarily imposed on her.

"I suppose that must by why you're so prickly, having to deal with so many rambunctious students." It was a conclusion she came to simply because she couldn't imagine why anyone would act the way he did. Sunberth was devoid of pompous wizards after all.

A tremor shook through her hand. The half breed squeezed her fingers into a tight ball and gripped the arm with a free hand, willing the djed in her bones to settle. This wasn't the time or place for another combustion. But as the wizard spoke, Eithne's eyes flicked toward the tiny little fly that stood in stasis, and watched as it began to expand. Flies don't do that. Her brows furrowed as the sound of Thomas' voice was drowned out in her momentary analyzation, but even that would soon be interrupted when he spontaneously grabbed her hand.

Snapped out of her fixation, the maledictor's eyes were wide in alarm. For once, however, she didn't yank her hand from his grip, but instead, allowed herself to be led. She glanced back at the ominous floating hole in space. That is not natural. As they exited the gardens, questions formed in her mind like scattered puzzle pieces. But more importantly, one single revelation rose from the chaos.

"You drank from the fountain." She had stepped in close enough behind him where only he could hear her words. "That's why you sought me out."

Common | Ancient tongue | Snake Tongue

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas hadn't cared where he led them, so much as it was away; the wizard fled deeper into the spiraling gardens, his feet heavy, clip clop, clip clop. The summons, the spell, whatever it was that forced the void into an unwanted existence, burned still, pricking his energies, leaching. He breathed loudly as he ran, evidently out of shape, desperate to break off the magic that tied him to the predatory nothingness.

He felt a break, the drain of energy plugged. Thomas stopped, almost as suddenly as he started, his Auristics flaring in his panic, breaking through his skin, digging into his aura, his soul, in a desperate, individualized attempt at solving whatever the problem seemed to be.

"Congratulations. You can divine the obvious," Thomas snarled, his voice thick disgust, with embarrassment. His body was tight, defensive, offended. It was one thing to have someone ferret out his secret, his current secret, but another practicioner? That could spell death. His magic folded and pushed against his own aura, flaring against it's defenses, winning, flitting in and out of the shallows of his essence, teasing out the deeper secrets. Eithne was a threat, but he was perhaps a greater one.

"Unfortunately, you don't seem to hold anything that might correct our situation. Something that would encourage control," he breathed, his tone calmer, his eyes sharper as he watched Eithne for any hint of knowing. There was little he would bother to hide, not now, not when she might hold the key to learning some semblance of control over his new magic.