NoteBold=Talking
Italics=Thinking
Bold+Italics=Miro to Ender Telepathy
Bold+Italics+Aqua=Ender to Miro Telepathy
74th day of Summer, 512 AV
"I am telling you Ender, you don't know anything. Quit telling me how useless I am! I swear, you only speak when it is to anger me. I try, and I try, and all I can accomplish is talking to myself. What do you even do? How can YOU think yourself so high and mighty?" "One of these days! One of these days, I'm gonna tap Morwen's shoulder! Splat, puddle on the floor!"
Miro was too busy glaring at the crystal bracelet on his wrist to see the door in front of him, causing a rather embarrassing collision with the door of the Wright Memorial Library door. "Hah. On Fyrden, your type lived on the shameful side of the world. Such creatures could not even tread on the harsher side, for they were too simple, too weak, just as you are. You are only lucky I assist you, for a fool of your calibre requires constant attention. Alas, I can not keep up with your stupidity. Without doubt, your careless actions will be the end of me, and by extension, you, Miro the Zero!"
Ender's comments did not amuse Miro in the least. In fact, he had stopped outside the door, losing sight of his surroundings. Miro's blood was boiling, and Ender was going to know it. "Oh, so now you laugh? And I am weak? I am simple? YOU are the lucky one! It is me that took you in, it is me that keeps us safe, and it is me that..." "Is yelling for all to hear."
Around them was a small crowd, three or four people, only Ender knew for sure. They were either waiting to enter or came to watch the show. Such a scene did not make Miro look good. Actually, not good was hardly accurate. Crazy was more suitable, especially considering the snickering and stares that burned embarrassment into his skin.
Negative attention brought blushing, making Miro hot. Cold sweat built on his brow, among many other places, making him even more uncomfortable. Was the phrase "frozen in place" still accurate when one felt as if they were on fire? Being hot was not only uncomfortable for Miro, but also for Ender, who could remain sealed on his arm no longer.
Ender took shape, forming into his natural form, a ball of ice the size of a fist. The icy bracelet that once secured the gem to the boy's arm fell to the floor shattering. "Miro, hide your shame. You are making us look weak." And while Miro made them look weak, Ender made them look unique.
All of the snickering students except for one had passed by, who approached Ender. Miro regained his composure, pushing his hair back out of his face. He let out a long sigh, dropping his tense shoulders. His gaze turned towards a female student, one older than Miro, yet carrying an innocent charm about her. A flicker of a memory sprouted in the boy's mind, but was dispelled as quickly as it came.
The young woman reached a hand out to touch the floating creature, who cautiously evaded contact. "Don't mind him. He can be more trouble than he is worth." The woman looked back at Miro, not saying anything, only carrying a curious look on her face. Smiling back at her, Miro snatched the orb from the air, which then returned to its sealed form. "Sorry to bother you, miss, but I have to go."
With that Miro placed the gem on his wrist, pulling res from his hand and forming a band. When the shape was completely smooth and of the right proportions, he transmuted it to ice, once again securing Ender. "Sorry Ender, I don't mean to get so heated. If you can't believe in my abilities now, then I guess I will have to work harder then. One day you will be as willing to risk your lie for me as I am to risk mine for you."
To this there was no response, but it relieved Miro greatly. He did not want to sour his relationship with Ender, even if he believed Ender had been the cause of the problems. It was not easy for him to bite his tongue, but few things worth achieving were easy. Magic took discipline, this was no exception. For now he would let Ender be, to go on with what he originally had planned for the day, a trip to the library.
Miro flung open the door and immediately out of habit began to take deep breaths upon entering. Though there was no water, and Miro grew no gills, the transition into the library still was off-putting. After inside however, his mind went blank, always so stunned by the beauty of the location. There were few things as breathtaking as a million tomes of mysterious lore. One of those things just happened to be laughter.
Across the room, a sight even more impressive than the colony of books took hold in his gaze. It was that of a young girl. A very young girl, who could not be older than seven years old. She was posted up at a table, attempting to read a book as big as her in size. If Miro had not caught sight of her from the side, she would have disappeared, shielded by the book from sight. Under her bottom were books stacked so that she could reach the table top, setting Miro off in a storm of giggles.
Just as he had been laughed at, he was now laughing himself, directing it at a child no less. It was true, Miro was unrefined, but he did his best to hide it. He clasped his hand over his mouth, unsure who let the child abuse the books in such a way, who had let their child run free. Perhaps it was that she was lost, and perhaps there was something to be gained by helping a poor lost child. And she did indeed look poor, wearing shabby clothes twice her size.
Miro casually began to approach her, going out of his way to not be seen. He walked around to the side, finally able to see the book from its backside. At first he doubted his eyes, unable to believe he was reading the title correctly. Approaching the table, there was no doubt, the girl was not reading a book at all, merely hiding from somebody. The act was convincing however, holding the book upright, but there were obvious flaws that gave her away. She turned the pages much too quickly, and the title of the book read, "The practical theory of leeching, and its method of restraining and absorbing the djed of the subject".
A smile graced the intrigued boy's face. He could not help but to wonder, what circumstances could possibly bring forth such a comedic situation. Truly Ionu had slipped away from his home in Alvadas to toy with Miro further. Surely though, Fate had a hand in this encounter. There was a good feeling in the air, Miro would act out of kindness, then he would find the reward.
Now preparing for his introduction, he stood up straight, adjusting his clothes to fit properly and cleared his mind, hoping still to be out of sight. He focused on the tone of the voice he would use, kind, clear, inviting, and focused on one last thing, hypnotism.
Miro wanted his words to give a presence, though if only to reduce any impact he would have on her. His mind wrapped around a concept of neutrality, dullness, sweet still calmness. The urge to make it happen started to bubble in his heart, choking Miro as it moved up his throat. How anxious it made him, the desire to cast his will on the impressionable young thing, the urge to warp a pure untainted mind.
With a deep breath out, he calmed his anxiety, reassuring his mind of the goal he wanted to achieve, a simple first impression of leaving no impression at all. Just as Morwen's breath gave life to Miro, Miro's words gave life to a spell. "Hello little girl. Do you need any help? You seem a bit out of place here, don't you think?"