Timestamp: 11th of Summer 518
It was early in the morning, the summer air still cool from the night. As the city began the day anew Kynier sat at his table with his pen in one hand and a small mirror in the other. Holding the mirror close he kept an eye closed was applying ink both around and over the eyelid. Coordinating his efforts in the mirror was not an easy task. Consistently he almost made the next mark in the opposite direction required. Adding to the difficulty was the size. Kynier was attempting to keep it small enough to avoid drawing attention from others. Though Hea was a less complicated rune to make he still needed the barrier and trigger to be applied.
For a bell he worked on making the first one over his left eye. With the trigger Lousawth settled at the outside corner of his eye. To disguise it he would most likely have to wear his cloak and pull the hood low. The prospect of sweating the rune away was not encouraging. He intended to make another of the same sigil over the other eye, but waited for the ink to dry and avoid getting smudged.
“You look like the fool of a festival.”
“Art isn’t my strong suit. Ironic. Considering glyphing could be considered an art form.” While he waited he meditated. When he reached a piece of tranquility he called forth his djed. Softly he muttered an Auristics incantation. The ink on his eye started to feel warm, and through the eyelid he could see an obscured purple light. After several chimes he opened and closed his eye. The ink appeared to have dried enough to last. Closing the other he spent another half bell or so making a similar sigil. The trigger for the second needed to be different, to avoid activating them both simultaneously. Loustighs. Again he meditated, chanting the Auristic incantation to infuse it into the other eye. By the time he was done half the morning was been spent. Kynier didn’t want to wait much longer. Running up the stairs he took his cloak out of the wardrobe and draped it over his shoulders. From the downstairs cupboard he took out a balance ration and his waterskin. Pulling the rim of the hood over his eyes he stepped out onto the street and made his way to the local well to fill his waterskin.
There had been no plan on where to test the sigils. No scenario was more ideal than the next. Aimlessly he walked down the streets of Sunberth at an easy pace. He found himself moving west and entering Slaver’s Row. A new stock of “merchandise” was up for auction. Numerous souls stood huddled together, naked to the elements of the city and citizens. Disgust filled his insides as he watched a fat man stick his fancy cane through the bars, jabbing its end at the ribs of a young girl.
“Lousawth,” he whispered. Nearly in an instant every person insight began to emanate a smoky mist from their bodies. Each of them a different color in varying shades. Kynier set his focus upon the girl’s beige aura. His body shivered abruptly went he felt how cold she was. A harsh wood surface prodded his side uncomfortably. Fear, hatred, and disdain bubbled under his skin. Kynier broke away his focus from the young girl. It was only the beginning for her. Soon there would be an owner that treated her with no more respect than a piece of furniture, using her for whatever purpose they saw. Kynier hated that there was nothing that he could do about it. Had he any mastery he could burn the whole square to the ground. Instead he could only skulk quietly and watch things that he couldn’t change.
“If you don’t toughen that fragile heart then it will be ripped from your chest, probably by a pretty face too.”
Kynier turned north to leave. He couldn’t stand to even stay here let alone think of trying to read another aura in this place. The ugliest shades of life dwelled in this district, and he hadn’t the callous to tolerate it yet.
Word Count: 693
