A Spark of Literacy (Kamalia)

[Kendall Saarinen]

Timestamp: 34th of Autumn, 510 AV Necessity had brought Kendall to the Wright Library. It had been too long since he had been within its walls. He missed the quietness of the library but mostly he missed the multitudes of books. He had nothing to read but his own writing and at times that got a little depressing. He was fully aware of the situation he was in but it did not make the issue of his emotions any better. He was a bit nervous to go into the library. It was a favored place of his mother’s. Being a Literature scholar she spent a great deal of time in the library. Kendall was not sure what he would do if he saw his mother. She had in fact betrayed him. She could have helped Kendall and so much pain could have been saved. In her own way she helped Kendall though. If it was not for her Kendall would have never been chosen as an Azenth. Her betrayal of her daughter, or now son drove Kendall to the edge and in turn caught Ivak’s attention even in his deep slumber in the mountains. He was not sure how he felt about his mother. Regardless, he needed to go to the library. The insanity of boredom and the continual revisiting of his severely jumbled up thoughts were going to drive him crazy. The library was just as grand as Kendall remembered. Of course, he had only stayed away for about half a season. Things always looked different through these eyes though. Things felt different, tasted different, even seemed different now. At times he wondered if he even was himself anymore. Skills seemed to slip away as time went on as other skills which he never knew he had started to surface. The confusion of being in this body seemed to worsen each day. Kendall knew that without Ivak’s gift he would have not been able to deal with the change. He had almost killed his own brother because of it. The fear was setting in; the fear that always plagued Kendall when he stepped into the University. What if his mother or father were there? He pushed the frenetic thoughts out of his mind. Zeltiva was his home too and he was not going to hide like a rat because his parents no longer accepted him. He walked down the rows of books and chose a few that looked interesting. He could not deny that he felt a spark of excitement at the thought of reading. A few chimes later Kendall was at a table looking over a book about Reimency. He already knew a bit about the art but it never hurt to learn more. "Reimancy is an art where the user focuses their Djed into a physical form. This physical form is called Res and it can be emited through the body of the user through their breath or hands. This Res can be transmuted into an element but it must be used before it decays. Res also can attract the certain substance from the environment. This ability saves a good amount of time for the user and proves helpful to the user if they are in their own environment such as a water user standing in a lake." The last part of the writing caught Kendall's interest. He never knew that his skills in magic would be even more useful if he was near fire. Of course this could be used to his advantage considering he could stand in the fire without getting burned. He wished that he had known this earlier. It would have served him well. Life was about learning though. He now knew and it would make better use of his Djed the next time it was needed.

[Kamalia Timandre]

Dusk fell, and the port city of Zeltiva once again glimmered like a gemstone in Akajia’s dark embrace. Many of the University students had left their studies, and the halls were once again empty of their frivolous humor and egotistical voices.

Eloute Lancaster glanced up from his book to the konti maiden who methodically looked through the endless shelves of tomes and scrolls. The day’s chores were done, and the library was hers again once more. He never saw her arrive. She seemed to appear as the door came into view as if she’d waited there all day. The konti rarely appeared in the morning, preferring silence and solitude of the night to the boisterous arrogance of the academy elitists.

She’d been there, reading, every evening for so many nights now that he had given up counting. Ivory white robes and a veiled cloak covered most of her body, from head to toe, leaving only her eyes and hands bare. What little skin was exposed was pale alabaster, perfect and immaculate. Her eyes were the violet of summer twilight, fringed with pale silver lashes. Her white hair shimmered in the candlelight, and silver scales entwined around her long, supple fingers like intricate tribal tattoos. Eloute wondered what she looked like behind those mysterious veils. But her demeanor was as frigid as winter and left little opening for small talk, let alone exploration beyond conversation.

Eloute Lancaster knew that most unmarried ladies in Zeltiva would have gone out of their way for the opportunity to spend a few affectionate moments with him. His tanned good looks, impressive wit, charming smiles and academic excellence had earned him many infatuations. Being the sole heir to the fortune of the Lancaster household, a reputable and well-heeled family in Zeltiva, only helped matters along. His family’s business had been picking up of late, as had the attention he’d been receiving from myriad female students of the Wright University.

But this konti—it seemed like she was beyond his reach. Rumor has it that this konti was surreally beautiful, as all konti were. Definitely female in outline, her sheltering cloak did not single her out for many of the visiting foreigners were similarly clad, but she drew mystified stares all the same from the remaining scholars and library staff. Her step was too light, so slender of form and graceful of movement that she seemed more like a dream than a reality.

“So, have you found what you were looking for, my lady?” Eloute Lancaster finally broke the uncomfortable silence, frowning. His voice, normally confident and assertive, sounded rather uncertain.

The konti maiden looked up at the young scholar. Her violet eyes held his for a moment before she slowly shook her head. “No, I have not,” the konti said softly behind her veils. In truth Eloute once had thought that the konti would have sounded more aged, more mature, until she had spoken with him for the first time. Her soprano voice was song and youth and siren.

For the past few weeks, the ancient collection of pre-Valterrian literatures and history had been the konti’s focus. Eloute had seen her dedication to her study, as if she were intent on consuming the entire library, driving herself page after page. The young man sighed.

From time to time, he had heard other students gossiped with each other about the “ice princess”. They’d challenge the newer students to try thawing her out, but none of them truly bothered to converse with her. Somehow, Eloute felt that the few words he exchanged with her might be one of the very few interactions she’d had with anyone in the city.

Finally, she seated herself down, heaving a sigh of relief and massaging her aching knees. She took a water flask from her bag and— to Eloute’s surprise—removed her veil and pulled away the hood of her cloak. The young man took a startled breath. “My lady,” he said, voice hushed in fascination.

Lush silver-white hair cascaded down to graceful locks below her waist. She took a little sip from her flask to soothe her drying throat, before staring at him with an ice-cold mien. “You are gawking like a simpleton,” the konti observed. “Have you never seen a konti before?”

“Forgive me, but I—“before the young man could compose a response, the konti rose and was gone. Eloute’s shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. “Maybe next time, eh?” he asked himself. “Or maybe not.”

---

Kamalia was grateful for the freedom granted by pulling away the veils of her cloak. She was not sorry to leave the foolish scholar who was infatuated with her, but her mood did not improve when she came upon another young man at the magical theories section. While he wore no uniform, he did have the look of a university student. Kamalia’s expression tightened. These childish students who came here for short hours of “study” played at learning like babes with baubles. Few understood a fraction of what they read, and fewer still hungered for true knowledge. The Konti elected to ignore the young man for now, but another look at him and her seer sensitivities gripped her. There was something wrong about this boy—something very wrong, yet she could not point out.

The Konti frowned, fixing the young man a deliberate measuring gaze.

[Kendall Saarinen]

Although Kendall would have much rather learned his Reimancy skills from a teacher, that option was far from his grasp. He was given this body with the initiation already taken place. Everything he knew about the magic he had taught himself. He was surprised to see the strange scars on his hands when he had awoken in the lab the morning his life had changed. After some time at the library he figured out why his hands had such strange markings. It was difficult to take in on his own though. It felt like the body was already used and weathered. Who ever had his body was working with a vessel that had been given the best upkeep a body could have. It was free from scars and untouched my arcana. He sighed as he turned over a page in his book. Who knew what was happening to his body now? "Also, Res can attract elements as well as transforming into them. This does not happen instantly though. The user must will this attraction themselves. This enables the user to use larger amounts of the element than they could on their own. This act has been proven to be dangerous though. It has a tendency of making the environment where he user is working unstable and dangerous. The Res gains an attractive force and pulls in like elements." There was a murmur in the library and Kendall looked up in response. There was a woman standing in front of him looking at him quizzically. He felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at her. He had heard of this woman from his days at the university. This was the "Ice Princess". He had always been curious about her but was too scared to ever approach the woman. The woman was a Konti, the white hair and luminescent scales were proof enough. He had never been on the receiving end of the woman’s icy stare but now he felt the chills running down his neck. ”Maybe this is why they call her Ice Princess.” He could not help but want to speak up. He now found himself in a position where he did not need to worry about what the other people at the university said. He could converse with this woman if he wanted and no one would gossip about Kendall Saarinen trying to make friends with the Ice Princess because as far as they knew, Kendall Saarinen was gone. It took a good number of chimes before Kendall found his voice stable enough to speak to the Konti. He was not sure what to say to her. If she would not let Eloute speak to her what chance did he have? Even Kendall could not keep his eyes off of Eloute. Still, it was he who caught the woman’s attention, not Eloute. ”Hello miss.” He bit his lip and tried to think of more to say. ”Would you care to join me?” He shuffled a few books on the table, stacking them into piles so clear some room for the woman to sit. He hoped the woman would join him. Although solo studying was the best way to work at times he missed the days when he gazed over books with groups of friends. Kendall was always a social creature and now he was grasping at any person who would give him a second glance. He wanted to see what hid behind the ice. So many people at the university just brushed her off but now Kendall wanted to see the person so few at the university took the time to see.

[Kamalia Timandre]

The Konti sorceress did not appear aware that she was gawking deliberately at the young man. True enough, the Konti seemed wintry and ethereal in appearance that it was no wonder she was daubed the “Ice Princess”. She was everything that the University students had said, everything and more. At first Kendall would probably think that this lady was as young as the sophomore students, but the longer he looked the more he would think she was older than that. There was intelligence about her measuring violet-blue eyes, a hint of knowing that no one could have gotten young. She held herself with a grace and an air of command that separated her from the female students.

The young man himself appeared too beautiful—rather than handsome— for a human male. She had read about heterochromia, a difference in the colorization of the iris, but she had never seen a man with this disorder. His hauntingly alluring eyes were a beautiful shade of light green and sky blue, and for an instant she thought those eyes were deep pools about to swallow her up. If he were in the White Isle, Kamalia was sure that the Konti women would be fighting over this man.

They locked stares for long moments, until the Konti finally blinked. She bowed her head as if in apology. “Forgive me, lord. I did not mean to interrupt your studies,” she said in softly-accented Common, melodious despite an apologetic tone. Her eyes did not fail to notice that he was reading a book on Reimancy. Kamalia’s smile was a bare curve of the corners of her mouth. “I could not help but notice you were reading one of my favorite books. The Treatise on the Elements, authored by Tempestra Pyralis of the Royal Academy of Magic in Alahea,” she said softly. “I have read only the Nader-Canoch edition of that book, however.”

“Professor Pyralis takes an analytical, experimental approach to sorcery, does she not? Her belief is that the universality of magic—how the spells gave the same result—pointed to principles that underlie djed manipulation. Things fall down unless something holds them up; for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. She was convinced that, with enough examination, she could discover every law and refine them all to one world-defining principle. To explain Personal Magic, and record and analyze her findings, she turned to numbers and geometry, and invented esoteric forms of physics. But one very powerful wizard had once told me that in Personal Magic, emotions are far more important than your intelligence. It draws upon your selfish instincts and one with a weak sense of self could never handle it.”

She was talking about Sagallius, of course, but she would rather not say his name aloud. Her smile did fade then, slowly, as if something had been recalled to her. She had a distant look in her eyes. It took a few moments before she focused her gaze on him again.

Kamalia smiled at the young man again. “I forget myself. Forgive me,” she said. “Please, you must call me Kamalia, not “Miss”. May I ask what you are called?”

[Kendall Saarinen]

When the Konti spoke to him Kendall felt a small blush come to his cheeks. He was not used to be called lord, or even people being kind enough to call him lord. "Don't worry about it. I... I was just reading." He looked down at the book and then back to the woman. He was easily lost in all of the things she said. He was brand new to the world of magic and the best he could guess was that all of the things she talked about were about reimancy. He simply nodded at her as she spoke. It was times like this when Kendall felt a pang of anger toward his father for never letting him dabble in magic. When he was still home and of course, a female he thought he understood it. Magic was dangerous and it hurt people. It was quite evident just by looking at him. He was a product of dangerous magic. If it was not for animation he would have been at home and a girl. He would be happy. "I am still somewhat new to Reimancy." He was a bit embarassed to admit that fact. Most people his age would be much better at their forms of magic than him. "I am trying to learn more though." He felt extremely shy as he looked at the woman. She was very beautiful. He could not help the fact that he had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. What attracted his attention most was her eyes. They were a beautiful color of voliet-blue that seemed to enchant him. The two seemed to stare at each other, lost in the color of the other's eyes. He looked down in embarassment. "Sorry... Kamalia." He was not sure if that is what he should have said. Maybe a guy would have been more suave than that. He was still thinking with an almost completely female mind though. "My name is Kendall." He left out his last name on the off chance that the Konti knew his family. It was a slim chance but a chance he did not want to take. "So I take it you work with Reimancy?" He had to guess Kamalia knew a bit about it if she was going to talk to intelegently about the topic. "I have always been a writer and a poet but... certain circustances have lead me to take up reimancy." He smiled at her, or at least tried to. He wanted to talk to this woman. There was a worry about talking to the Konti though. It seemed to poke at his mind every moment he looked at her. She was a Konti and Konti had these special skills. Ones that could see past the exteriors of people. It seemed as though they interacted more with who people were internally than externally. It scared him. He did not want who he was inside to be disovered. He wanted to keep his secret, at least until he could go back to normal. He was not an expert on the Konti race but he did know about their special gifts.