“As the Laws of the Weaver when one taps into the Unseen Lines, one doesn’t – for example create fire, but instead recreate what one knows of fire and supplement the rest with - imagination. I hope that satisfies your question Isocrates.” Magisteriur Eakhcriath said as he held out his palm, engulfed in flames that shifted between hues of red and blue. Even from this distance Isocrates could feel the flames heat reaching him directly while Eakhcriath had a warm smile on his smooth face hidden behind a refined beard.
“Yes, for the most part Magisteriur. If I may ask, in that case shouldn’t fire hurt us when enveloping a body part?” Isocrates asked confidently, not holding back the urge that eternally gnawed at him since he first saw Luelia create an ethereal bird that dissipated the moment it flew up into the sky.
“Good question child. That is where the Law of Perception Control comes up. As you can imagine many new magusos fell into this trap when they first experiment with more complex spells. And that is why I expect all of you to keep this in mind during your practice classes.” Eakchriath said as he walked back and forth, the boards under his feet creaked with each word that left his mouth.
“Now where were we?” Then he went back into his usual pondering state, with one finger over his chin, the other hand grappled onto his sides clad in mundane brown robes. A shawl draped around his neck, swirled around like a sleeping serpent in hues of red and blue completely not fitting with the rest of his attire.
“Ah yes, turn your pages. No using your hands.” While he muttered those words, everyone – including Isocrates – focused their minds, shutting his voice out completely as they tapped into the arkhaine points in their right hands. With their index and middle fingers locked and pointed out, they drawn their hands over the open books. A soft bluish aura enveloped the edges of the pristine white paper scribbled with columns of carefully measured texts. Then the pages moved by themselves, stopped at the middle then fell gracefully on the left side.
“Good, good.” His lids closed down slowly, a featureless dark landscape replaced the classroom. Then as his mana flowed through his elderly elven body, his vision multiplied, with each clearly watching the students behind their elevated desks.
“Cicerath, leave the practice of those childish tricks back at home.” His previous soothing, kind tone changed to a more thundering as he noticed the half-blood Cicerath raising his left hand, noticing his mana flowing through his body into his hand.
“Pardon me Magisteriur.” His previous gleeful expression turned into one reminiscent of a disciplined, scared pups.
“And Isocrates, keep your tongue in your mouth. Such childish notions don’t befit someone like your age.” Isocrates almost bit said tongue as the thundering voice of the professor made him almost fell off his chair.
“Now that peace has hopefully returned to this closed land of mine, let’s continue on.” He let out a sigh that moved the air through the classroom, blowing gently the hair of all within as he sat down amongst soft chuckles that came from the female students.
**
The laughter of children echoed softly, carried by the air into her ears. Aurelithae walked slowly through the streets, merging in with the thin crowd while letting her face be warmed by the day’s sun. Her eyes remained fixed on a young human child with lupine arms covered in thick grayish fur, his ears and eyes mismatched in hues and shape.
Her thoughts on the other hand focused more on what Naghig said an hour or two ago. She was uncertain if he just tried to scare her as part of some lesson or if he actually told the truth. What if her Father knew truly of her trips down to the lower districts?
Would he truly let her come down without protection? Why is he allowing it, if he knew? Especially weighting in that all her other sibling had been sheltered in the Radiant Keep until they were old and versed enough to be sent out to the colonies. If he knew, why was she different from the others? And did he know about Moirstyria making trips down here too when she was the same age centuries ago?
All these questions rotated constantly within her mind, while a small part of her still focused on the kid, holding hands with her mother with more refined lupine features that included sharp ears covered in fur that melded in with her grayish brown hair, a mostly smooth hand that ended in sharp obsidian claws. And a furred tail peeked out from under her skirt, and large golden pupils that invited the gaze of passerby’s.
“Oh what is this?” As soon as the two got stopped by some Custodiir patrolling the streets, she naturally diverted from her straight path and went for the nearest tent outside a clothing shop. With slight interest she asked while focusing her attention away from the pair, and onto the high ranked Custodier.
The man clearly the child of an aevhen and a southern human with a slight tanned and creased complexion. Whether he was handsome or not, she could not tell because of the thick braided beard that flowed down onto his shining silvery segmented white plate with softer curves compared to the legionariir. His eyes in a somewhat graceful almond-frame – orange wet pearls – gleamed with malice thinly veiled by drilled in discipline.
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The mother reached into her pocket, and pulled out coins bulging out from the confines of a small brown leathery sack. For a while Aurelithae watched as the Custodier counted the coins inside the sack and readied her mana by channeling it between the nine arkhaine points within her animus. The half-aevhen frowned but then let the two go before taking one last look at them, then turned his attention back as he laughed heartily with his fellows as they continued on with their patrol.
**
Her target stood now in his office in nothing more than the tunic and trouser of silken and velvety kind. A tingling pleasant sensation coursed in circles in her head, making her lips curve slightly at the edges. Left lid closed down, with her thumb pushed against it gently. The image of her target merged seamlessly with the scenery of the vast plains and colorful forest of the island unfolding beyond the boundaries of the night blanketed landscape.
“You can do it Luelia!” She murmured these words like a mantra, her soft voice carried away in the air to dissipate far from the edge of the mountain side. With legs crossed, she sat at the edge of the Custodiir Barracks’ rooftop. Her small chest puffed out as the freshening mountainous air entered her small, dainty nose, then left through her mouth.
The structure that served as the Custodiir’s barracks sat on the opposite side, with a clear view of the hundreds of kilometers long plains and forest of myriad warm colors that ranged from red to green. The ethereal light that emanated from these trees and flora even reached Aurelithae’s face mildly contorted as she struggled carrying out her task.
Numerous thoughts intertwined within her mind, each an imagination on how to end his life. Incinerate him from the inside? No too much sound and the golden flames may have a tale tell sign. Freezing his heart than shatter it? Too complicated, and could easily backfire even for her. Create an orb of ever swirling air that deprives him of air? A bit less complicated and it could work, but it what if his struggling alerts the whole place. What about using his own flesh and bone against himself? As blasphemous that idea seemed to be, the amount she would have to use her own nekrotic matter would leave lasting marks on her.
“Let me help.” A chilling, faint ethereal whisper tingled her ears and mind, making her let out a soft yelp as she instinctively looked behind herself. Yet there was no one there. At the same time, she felt a chilling power filling her to the brim like an overgenerous bartender, while an icy conviction nested into her mind.
As he stretched his arms high in the air after counting the coins in his chair, he quickly stood up panicking. His mouth opened screaming as his mildly tanned skin started to liquify with blisters appearing on his face, under the richly hued azure blue tunica. Then suddenly his skin turned into a fluid state and tainted his fine ornated garment while revealing his amber hued flesh and pure white bone under. As he tried to scream for help – tumbling towards the door – his mouth opened, and his jaw dislocated and fell onto the carpet covered floor.
Before he could reach the door, he himself collapsed into a gory. It started with his legs shattering with a small river of his amber blood cascading down onto the oaken floor, and slowly formed into a depthless lake, then the rest followed as the wind once again could be heard gently blowing. And she watched this through with one lid closed, the tip of her finger pressed against her soft, smooth skin with mana pouring into her eye. Disgust filled her – for what she had done to him, and for what played out in her vision.
For a few more moment, as the disgust passed, she felt proud herself for a moment before she stood up. A momentary dread followed as her legs trembled and almost made her fell to the depths that laid at the edge of the roof. She exhaled deeply, before her body exploded into a prismatic mist.
**
The door creaked open as Albron enjoyed a glass of Hogstrouth Beer while watching the capital dressed in the moon’s mesmerizing silver light. He calmly turned around and waved to Celsushar, his right hand amongst the Imperial Order of Dragon Knights.
“Seems like Centurioth Domition met his end.” Celsushar was a tall aurelf native to the far south, blessed with a fair amber hued complexion, a thick line of dark beard and long mane sheared on the sides, braids falling down like curtains beset with golden ornaments.
“Ah the night couldn’t get any better.” Albron said with an unusual wide smile as he lifted his ornated keg up.
“Now tell me, how did my little sister end him?” He rushed with a calm expression to his old friend and grabbed his shoulder.
“She melted him into a puddle of blood, marrow and linen. It had an awful stench I must say.” Celsushar said as Albron poured him one from the dwarven beer. “For now they seemed to believe a worshipper of the Grimm Sovereign is responsible and plan to double their patrols during the nights.”
“I can imagine. I guess he did help her out in the end.” Albron sat down behind his desk with a slightly gloomy expression.
“Are you not happy? It is progress in the end.” Celsushar asked as the refreshingly sour beer flowed down to his belly.
“I am. But what can I say. I am my father’s son.” He said as he lifted the keg up in the air with his index finger pointed at it, a hovered it into Celsushar’s firm hands.
“I’m not so sure of that. All I can say is ending the life of folks is different from beasts, and be thankful for the aid she received.” Celsushar said as he collapsed into the sofa amongst a symphony of metal and silken. “Now the question is: what will your dear old dad will do?”
“If he didn’t move a finger when she infiltrated the magistralua’s prison, I doubt he’ll do anything over the death of an unimportant custodiar.” Albron said with a faint sour look as he gazed out the window. “Just as he intended.” He whispered to himself with a soft chuckle.