Istroama had sat vigil through the night, and while he was happy for having avoided the horrors of sleep, he was not in the best of states for having done so. He labored through the morning fundamentals with frantic anticipation, combined with a lack of rest, which saw him almost backpedal into the fire at one point. Symeon sat him down in one of the Lasle-tree huts, and instructed him to relax.
Istroama was entirely in accordance with the idea of relaxing, but he found once again his immutable body acting without his instruction in small ways. The very thought of having his magic restored to him found his flesh acting of its own accord, expressing as involuntary movements in his manipulators. Inquiries on the matter to Symeon returned the response of “nervous energy”. The term was used with such utter ease that it was a comfort, but still didn’t explain the issue. On the other manipulator, when Istroama actually managed to relax he found his eyelids falling, his whole self sliding into horrible, horrible sleep. This he solved with a sound strike across his owns legs with a handy stick, which set off a round of pointless bickering between Istroama and Symeon.
“NO! I will not go to sleep, you depraved lout! I have no time or interest to devote to your so-called ‘requirements of life’! You’re managing to do without, so clearly…”
Istroama’s eyes went wide as his manifest appeared before him. ‘Defeated a Fleshripper Imp in single combat.’ ‘Defeated miscellaneous animals.’ ‘Vigil of Fire.’
“Shut up! Dearest friend Symeon, shut up now! It’s happening!”
A single glowing square, livid orange, was travelling toward the eight indentations at the bottom of the manifest. Symeon had a clear view of the process as Istroama had rushed over and embraced him. Both heard a woman’s voice announce, “Impresario. In the shadows, yet they stand upon his shoulders.”
“Yeah, that happened ta me too, now get offa me ya kook!” Symeon was struggling to peel himself out of Istroama’s grip to no avail, but stopped struggling as the manifest filled with words.
Mortal.
Access to all Chaotic aligned magics.
Teaching skill moderately increased.
“YES!” Istroama was jumping up and down, still with Symeon in his grip, knocking Symeon about for a few moments before Symeon slipped free. “All Chaotic Magics! That’s immense, friend Symeon, immense! I used to have Fire and Water, but now… oh, Presence and Momentum and… oh, I can set up zones! I can throw proper bolts! Quick, let’s find something to obliterate.”
“Easy there partner, stuff that needs obliteratin' will still be there later. Small steps first, right?”
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“Yes, right. Of course. I must explore my expanded powers with logic and reason. The analytical approach will see us through.”
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It took an hour to get the fire under control. The time spent was not aided by Istroama dancing around the Zone of Flame he had spread around the once-grassy brush, singing in tone-deaf fashion about “how many things I’m going to immolate.” Symeon did his best to suppress the effect with Water and Earth but he simply couldn’t match the area covered except over time. Once Istroama was shaken sufficiently to cooperate the matter was effectively managed.
“Well there you have it, friend Symeon. I’ll have to put some imagination into this, but no more simple time-linked bursts and sprays for me! I’m going to make my killing FANCY. Oh, I wonder what a Burst of Gravity would OW! You hit me!”
Symeon had indeed slapped Istroama hard on the arm, leaving a palm-shaped redness behind. “Ya said a spell name. That’s a slappin’ in the Issy Training Method.”
“I wasn’t casting you daft brute.”
“Yeah, I know.”
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Any animosity in the moment was forgotten as they started exploring more directed magics. The balance of the day was in the attempted manufacture of tools by Symeon, as he used Earth to slowly shape and condense random stone into a hefty mallet, which delivered a pulverizing blow when swung at a stump. Unfortunately the stone haft cracked with the force of the blow rendering the project a write-off. The following experiments with sand saw the steady production of thick glass. Symeon had thus far only made simple bowls and knives of the stuff, but with a bit of finesse and experience he could see real possibilities.
Meanwhile, Istroama had conjured a ball of light to hover above him as he marched through the wood to the river. The light drew the insectoid Myriads in for some reason Istroama couldn’t fathom, but he was happy to exploit the situation. Ah, blasphemy! What a delight to indulge in sticking his mid-digit up in divine defiance! It was hard to resist the urge to waggle his fingers like some primitive but he maintained his dignity as a man of culture and unleashed a barrage of Firebolts at the Myriads while standing in what he felt was a contemptuous pose. The insects shattered and burned, and the smoking chunks raining into the river sent the Chthonic Implets into a feeding frenzy. Those Implets were swept up in a Zone of Gravity, hovering helplessly over the river for several seconds as Istroama realized he hadn’ t prepared a way to contain the beasts. As they dropped abc into the river, Istroama considered that Symeon could have likely flown a cluster of the things all the way back to camp. No matter; lesson learned, and Istroama pulled his blade for the purpose of gathering Symeoncanes.
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The mood when Istroama returned to camp with a pair of large Symeoncanes full of Implet flesh was positively gleeful. While Istroama’s magic wasn’t ideal for creaton, Water and Presence could do a decent job at accelerating plant-growth despite his lack of Earth magic. Symoen, on the other hand, could manage all sorts of tricks as long as the scale was limited and he had sufficient time. They agreed, conditions were ideal to start releasing more of the Chrysalises. Symeon took a moment to curse at the useless sundial with its unchanging shadow, and then they were off to the beach.
The march was blissfully Imp free. Both men set small balls of Light using Fire magic to ease the way, which did nothing to help them see the crowd gathered around the Chrysalises before the crowd saw them.