OSOS - 0x10
Votum
M( -.- )RA
Mara blinked, then blinked again, gears grinding as she struggled to comprehend what she’d just seen. It was like something had photoshopped her vision, ‘pinching’ space in front of her for the slightest fraction of a second, just before snapping back as if it’d never even happened– Yet something had happened.
The hairy lawn ornament of a woman who had just been violating Mara’s personal space was now standing stock-still more than half a dozen meters away. With a blank look in her eyes and a hand still raised to a hoodie that was no longer there, Mara wasn’t even sure if the woman had even noticed she’d moved.
Or if she even can anymore…
The implosion had somehow left Mara entirely unfazed, yet shoved the gnome back and froze her completely. Around them, the air had gone still, no leaf nor branch dared creak or rustle.
DB? Any insight on that?
A solid moment passed without receiving any sort of confirmation from her back pocket, which perplexed Mara. So far her skill had been rather prompt on its feedback to her requests, but now, her shorts felt suspiciously vacant. Reaching behind her with growing suspicion, Mara’s confusion began to evolve into worry as all her hand felt was air.
Uh… Debug?
Hastily checking her other side on the impossible off-chance that she’d just been misremembering where she’d been stashing Debug, all she found was an equally empty pocket.
Okay DB, this isn’t funny. What’s going on?
Still getting an unsettling lack of response from her go-to font of information, Mara started flicking through her other skills as subtly, and as quickly, as she could. Marks still formed in her palms and Trace seemed to have no issues winding itself around the pair of them as she stretched a trickle of mana between the marks in her palms.
However, as she was doing so, she noticed Trace’s whisps begin to take on an oblong shape rather than a linear path. Unable to resist her curious urges, she let her mana wax and wane on a whim, watching as the pulsing streaks began to resemble something like a magnetic field flitting between two poles.
Finding herself more than a little distracted by the anomalous behavior, Mara wasn’t even paying attention to the blur of bronze blaring in from the sidelines.
“THELMA!”
Celeste’s cry cut through Mara’s mental haze like a foghorn, snapping her attention to the rushing blur of muscle as it barreled towards the frozen gnome. Perhaps it was from years of field experience, but it was clear that Celeste at least had the wits on her to see something was very wrong. As she skidded to a stop next to her former mentor, Celeste grabbed the gnome’s shoulders as if to shake her awake, but Thelma didn’t budge an inch under her efforts. Practically rabid with panic, Celeste glared at Mara with a look that screamed of a wild, confused, anger.
“WAS THIS YOU!?”
The threat behind Celeste’s booming query was palpable. She might not have been holding a gun, but there was no doubt in Mara’s mind that she’d have no problems dispatching her just as quickly. Adrenaline pounding in her ears, Mara knew she only had a heartbeat or two to spit out an answer, but she was still trying to understand things herself. The gnome had been more than rude, but that was no excuse for whatever had just happened, and on top of that, Debug wasn’t responding at all.
“Wait– That’s Thelma?? I swear I have no idea what happened! She just appeared in front of me, then she was over there!”
Celeste glared at the ashen haired girl, still unsure if the implosion had been her doing or not. Mara’s words had been honest, or at least authentic enough to dismiss outright suspicion, but it was clear Thelma had been hit by something. Seeing her old friend’s vacant stare, Celeste sighed in frustration. If nothing else, wild magic was clearly at play, and that field was categorically out of her wheelhouse, and most people’s for that matter.
“Where the hell is Mads…”
Whispering under her breath as she steadied the frozen gnome, Celeste ran through her options as she took stock on the situation. Whatever had happened to her old mentor didn’t appear to be progressing, and lacking any signs of outwards damage, she could at least try to assure herself time wasn’t a detrimental factor. However the possibility remained that delaying help would be regretful, so with a half-grunt Celeste bit the bullet and burned one of her spell slots to fire off a message before rising to her feet.
As Mara watched the mountain of muscle rise to face her, she was already trying to plot a survivable route out of this quagmire of a meet-n-greet. She had no doubt that Celeste could easily deconstruct most things with her fists alone, but with Bio in the mix, Mara wasn’t thrilled with any avenue stemming from the two mixing. And aside from that, there was so much she still didn’t know about this world, there was zero guarantee that Celeste didn’t have some way of interfering with however her respawns worked.
Outcomes aren’t important right now. Mark and Trace still work… so Bio probably does too then– Obviously not exactly eager to find out one way or the other of course, but what else? No artifacts either, no surprise there. Fuck she’s got huge strides, what’s she going to do? I didn’t mean for something to happen to her mentor, or ex-mentor, but is she really going to hold a grudge about it? Maybe I can talk my way out of this–
“Look, Celeste– I’m sorry about Thelma– I really didn’t mean to do anything, I promise!”
Despite her pleas, the rolling tank of muscle showed no signs of faltering as its shadow inched over Mara in the fading light of dusk. Clutching the marks in her palms, Mara had a sinking feeling Celeste wasn’t even listening to her anymore. Despite that, running away didn’t exactly seem viable, but exploding anyone, let alone the first person she’d ever met here, was a hard pill to swallow. Even just the idea of wounding her was… ‘gorey’.
Trying to swallow her hesitations, and morally rationalize the hole she was about to double-down on if push came to shove, Mara began to level with her silent, looming doom.
“I mean– If I’m being honest, she was very rude. You don’t just violate someone’s personal space without even a ‘Hello’, but there’s no way I caused that. I’m a newbie, the only thing I know is a makeshift ‘Fireball’, that was like the exact opposite of what I know how to do.”
Barely able to properly make out Celeste’s face amidst the dense shadow she was casting down upon her, Mara wasn’t sure what was about to happen. At any moment, the silent colossus could strike, and there might not be time to react. A decision needed to be made, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, but striking preemptively just seemed to get more difficult the more she considered it. However, leaving herself to the whims of someone who would flip so quickly on her made her feel like this was some sort of trap from the get go.
Why won’t she listen to me?! This whole situation is fucked up– Did they lock Debug or something? Is it proximity-based or targetted? Fuck, if I die, there’s no guarantee it’ll reactivate… I could try running and doing something evasive, maybe blowing up the hedge after I hop it? Or is surprise better? If she can outrun me, striking first might be my only chance. Oh-my-god, I hate quick-time events like this.
However before Mara could come to a final decision, Celeste spoke up. Her voice wasn’t kind, but neither was it angry. It was simply cold, distant even.
“Then let me be more ‘polite’. I’m going to inspect you. Resist and I’ll assume you’re hiding something from me. Run and I’ll assume you’re guilty regardless. Any questions?”
Oh what? ‘Inspect’ me? They have that here? Of course they do. Why couldn’t I use it when I got here? That’s so unfair. But was that what Thelma was doing to me? That would explain the weird feeling at least, but didn’t I ask Debug to– Oh… No way. That rush of mana– did it do something? But after– the temperature dropped so hard, I thought that was just the implosion, but could that have been Debug? Is that why Thelma’s frozen now!? Is that going to happen to Celeste!?? But the only way to stop it from affecting her would be to come clean about Thelma! Why is this situation so FUCKED. Maybe she’ll–
“No questions then? Well I’ll try to be quick.”
Feeling a familiar sensation begin to crawl up her spine, Mara hesitated to say something. Whatever was going to happen at this point was out of her hands. As Celeste retrieved a small cylinder from the back of her belt, the tingling was reaching her neck. The more she unfurled it, the more the sensations grew until they were cresting her brow. Then for a moment, there was only silence, until it was broken once more by scorched etching manifesting upon the scroll’s parchment.
A heartbeat later, and both the noise and sensation had dissipated entirely, and it appeared that whatever was going to happen, had happened. Gradually looking up to the specter of her potential doom, Mara felt herself relax a little as Celeste appeared to both be breathing, and at a bare minimum, not horrified of whatever her Inspection had pulled up.
So… was the implosion not from Thelma’s inspection? Or was it specifically something to do with Thelma’s inspection? I suppose I didn’t make a conscious resistance to Celeste, but is that all it took to cause such a violent reaction? And is that scroll inspecting me or is she?
Straining to watch Celeste read the small parchment in the dimming dark, Mara felt a little envy for whatever Celeste had for low-light skills. Despite not being able to make out everything with perfect clarity, the sounds it made only reinforced her assumptions.
An artifact of some sort– That’s probably why I couldn’t use it as a skill… Weird, arbitrary distinctions though, I definitely need to learn more– I wonder if ‘Elsa Myr’ has a library? And I wonder what she’s gunna think of my stat screen. Or maybe her ‘Inspect’ works differently than Debug’s analysis? It is an artifact after all. The ones I found on the ship were more like gadgets, but how would that work as an inspection tool?
More curious about the mechanism itself than the results it was churning out, Mara had already resigned herself to the invasion itself. After all, the worst case was that there was someone in the world that knew some details about her. It wasn’t the end of the world and it certainly beat trying to navigate the dungeon again right after she’d just managed to escape. Yet despite herself, her idle curiosity stoked her impatience as the growing silence between her and Celeste continued to tick on without reprieve.
“So… how’s that work anyway? I’ve never seen one before, let alone had someone ‘Inspect’ me– It feels… weird. Not pleasant, but pretty unmistakable…”
Looking for an answer in the looming shadows of Celeste’s face, Mara found naught but unambiguous silence. For all she knew, Celeste could be deciding exactly how to dispatch her based on her stat-sheet, but Mara tried not to let her paranoia get the better of her. Opting instead for a more optimistic outlook, Mara tried to remain casual, in context at least. However as the seconds ticked by, the words she needed continued to elude her. So pivoting in the opposite direction, Mara decided to poke the elephant in the room.
“Is that what Thelma was doing to me?”
The mention of the name got a tweak of Celeste’s head in response, interrupting the woman’s silent contemplation. Looking up from the hand-held scroll, she cast an inquisitive glare at the silver-antlers of the ashen-haired girl. Mara’s readings were completely abnormal, and honestly, downright dangerous. She knew something was different about her, because you don’t just find lost living people in the wilds, but her mana affinity was through the roof, and Celeste had never seen someone with a higher Faith stat.
But now a clearer picture was forming, Mara was someone heavily involved in a foreign church. It explained the odd manner of dress, her unblemished skin, and the intense reaction Thelma received– Which was probably some sort of barrier spell. Silently admonishing herself for literally doing the same thing that likely trapped Thelma, Celeste knew she was in for a scolding whenever Mads got to them. Chewing her cheek as she re-read what minimal information she did gleam, it wasn’t that Mara was a danger herself, but more a danger to herself, and by proxy, everyone around her. Figuring she’d let her wallow in silence long enough, Celeste traded an answer for a question, hoping Mara might be a little forthcoming given the circumstances.
“Yeah. Probably was… You certainly have come a long way, even for an elf. I don’t think I’ve even read about the Elevae before, so forgive my bluntness– Do you have an Order or Church, or is it normal for your people to have such high Faith?”
Of all the bomb-shells Mara had been anticipating, from ‘Demon Queen’ to ‘Runie’, she hadn’t been expecting a remark that would make her question herself.
Elevae?! But I thought it would just show 'Elf’ to other people, and when did my dominant race change anyways? Debug probably– It could have done it while I was passed out last night, but what the hell does she mean by Faith? And I don’t even know who the Elevae are, am I just supposed to make up a backstory on the spot?? Maybe… Maybe I can feign some level of obliviousness, reframing my ignorance of this world into something more… Terrestrial? I certainly can’t tell her the whole story, we’d be here for ages–
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I’ve never heard someone call me an… ‘Elvanae’? Where I come from we’re just… ‘The Elves’, and what do you mean by ‘Faith’? I’m not exactly religious, so I’m very confused by how it could be ‘high’, but how is that relevant anyways?”
Scoffing, Celeste could scarcely believe what she’d just heard, but there was no semblance of mistruth in Mara’s tone. Considering the rest, it made sense to her that if Mara was from a foreign land, then it was fair that they might prefer to go by a more common term, but shouldn’t she have at least seen her stat sheet?
Glancing back to her mythic-tier Inspect scroll, Celeste couldn’t help but be impressed at how few things the exceedingly expensive trinket had managed to gleam. By claim, a scroll of its merit could list every spell a dragon had in its arsenal, yet it barely got more than a race and some stats… Constitution, Dexterity, and Faith to be precise. It had tried to do more, like measure a fourth stat, Magistry, which was still undefined, and titled an area for Spells, but either Mara had yet to learn a single one or the scroll had also failed to identify any in its entirety.
With a sigh, Celeste shifted her attention back to the bundle of chaos still standing in front of her sporting an apprehensive look. Whoever Mara was, it wasn’t exactly critical at the moment, but prolonging her ignorance for any longer would be. Intention-wise, it was pretty obvious that Mara hadn’t meant to hurt Thelma, both since she’d stayed voluntarily and that she’d allowed, what should have been, a very invasive Inspection. Thus, the right words were hard to place, but Celeste tried to address both Mara’s questions and the vast gap in knowledge she likely had about most things.
“Well… Where to start? I guess, first off, if you don’t have an explicit patron, perhaps your people had a deity they follow in a more cultural aspect? I’m no expert, I certainly wish Mads was here, but Faith is complicated. In regards to your level, the only person who might have a higher one is Saint Yena, and she’s Chosen. The fact that you do, with no idea about the ramifications of such a thing, is bad– Worse than bad actually. And if you really don’t have a patron or deity… I can’t even fathom the ramifications of that. We need to get you to the local temple pronto, and scrap getting you registered, we’ll have to take an unorthodox way into town– You’ll cause a riot if rumors of a rogue saint start making the rounds.”
Mara took a step back in surprise, ‘Chosen’, ‘Saints’, ‘Faith’ in general, it was a lot to process at once.
“Whoa– Wait-wait-wait. Are you saying I’m a Saint? What’s that supposed to mean? From where I come from, it’s just an honorific title for great deeds.”
Relaxing a bit at Mara’s unintentionally humorous mix of cautious and curious, Celeste felt she was making progress on defusing the situation.
“Well… maybe? Ehh… it’s been ages since it was explained to me, but essentially your Faith represents the ‘Influence’ your Patron has over your world. The higher it is, the more they can affect things around you. For example, Saint Yena has facilitated more than a few miracles by simply being present, but that’s not her power specifically– Though that’s not to diminish what Chosen are capable of by themselves…”
Trailing off as she mentioned the Chosen, Celeste seemed to lose herself in a memory for a moment before her slightly luminescent gaze returned to Mara.
“Anyways, I’m sorry for being so coarse with you. I’ve Messaged Mads, she’s Thelma’s roommate. I told them it was urgent, so they should be here soon. I’m going to go see if I can figure anything else out about Thelma’s condition…”
Celeste, glancing between the time-locked gnome and the unintentional cause of it all, decided she should at least be as cautious as her mentor would be, despite an overwhelming feeling to just trust this girl.
“And– It’d be best if you stayed here for right now, is that okay?”
Nodding as she looked around for a spot to sit, Mara was already more than happy to be distracted by her own thoughts, uninterrupted, for a few minutes. Finding an upturned metal bucket, Mara gave it a good once-over for bugs and metalworking details before plopping it back down to be used as her seat.
So Yena ‘facilitated’ miracles then? Makes one wonder what I might be capable of… Their Faith stat sounds an awful lot like the Fate stat, but that had no mentions of a specific higher power– Not that the System has ever been very forthcoming about its details…
Watching a luminescent butterfly flutter past a nearby bush of orange rose-stalks, her mind raced with the possibilities of what being a Saint could provide, and conversely, what it would entail, when a dangerous thought t-boned her in the middle of a neural intersection.
Wait– What if my ‘Patron’ is the System itself? I think– Yeah I think it checks all the boxes… I’ve had some form of ‘contact’ with it, it’s non-tangible, and it has some level of influence over this world… But is that my ‘God’? Maybe Patron is a better term, especially in context. What would the ‘System’ want? It’s not a god of anything in particular right? I could see why Celeste was terrified of me not having a deity… If you don’t know its motivations, it’s chaos incarnate. Heh, divine chaos… Hang on– Does that make me a Warlock? I haven’t played Damsels & Dungeons in ages.
Sitting upright with a twitch of her head, Mara realized she also had to consider the possibility of a simple clerical error. There was every chance that the scroll had simply misread her Fate stat, and her ‘System’ was distinctly different from theirs, which would also mean that there were multiple Systems. Therefore no Saint-hood, no Miracles, no wishing Debug back from wherever it had gone.
Standing up, Mara knew there was only one way to test this. She’d have to try to do something about the situation. Be it wishing or fumbling, she had to be able to do something about Debug and Thelma, both were equally unresponsive, and both dropped off at the same moment. They just had to be related to the weird spatial implosion.
Approaching where it had all gone sideways, Mara found the exact spot where she’d been standing before. But as she took her former position, something immediately felt off about it. An uncanny distortion, like there was ‘more space’ where the implosion had happened. The house felt a little further away, the fence planks on the left were a little too long compared to their neighbors, and the garden plots along a ‘fault line’ of sorts were all slightly deformed or elongated.
Can space grow? I know there’s the whole universal expansion force– I didn’t pay enough attention in class to remember which scientist it was named after, but that only affects empty space right? I thought that was a dark-matter thing, wouldn’t it vaporize or tear up a planet if it happened inside of it? What the hell was this? It’s like something made ‘more’ of everything to fill it in, like another photoshop filter… Plus, what kind of magic could cause that?
Taking a step towards the epicenter of the barely noticeable space-fault, Mara felt that this would be where she’d find her answers. Summoning up Trace, she didn’t really know what to ask of it, but vaguely pointed to the ‘space’ in her mind and a longing thought for Debug. It took a moment, but as she felt the mana coalescing within her eyes, Mara knew it had heard her.
Glancing towards Thelma, and by extension Celeste, Mara saw the latter had draped a blanket around the unfortunately indifferent gnome. Linking the thought of Thelma as well, Mara felt her skill leave her retinas, tracing intricate trails between her and the gnome, with tendrils exploring the space around like slow-motion lightning.
Seeing Celeste also captivated by the sudden illuminations, Mara couldn’t help but smirk. She had a feeling others could see Trace, but Celeste’s sudden awe was a rather nice surprise. As their eyes met, Mara held up a finger to mime she needed just a minute as a silent ballet unfolded before them. The rainbow tendrils of Trace had begun to hone in on a particular nexus of space, somewhere along between the implosion and the fault-line of ‘new space’. As the temperature dropped in tandem, Mara knew her skill was about to try something.
This happened just before Debug vanished too… Is this mana, or a lack of it? I can see my breath, so it’s not just a feeling… It must be my mana-roots, but it’s still impossible to know if I’m using all the mana in the area, or coalescing all the mana in an area… God, where are you when I need you DB– I feel so lost without your intrusive insights.
As her skill tugged on her attention once more, Mara realized it was doing more than just highlighting its investigation. Symbols, or more accurately Sigils, had appeared in front of her, as if Trace was asking Mara to mime them with Mark. Unsure that either one truly knew what they were doing, Mara felt that it was a lot better than nothing, and began replicating each one of the branching, twisting sigils in the air next to their intangible twin.
Out of the corner of her eye, Mara could see Celeste watching her with rapt attention. Her look had shifted from awe to confusion then back to amazement as she watched Mara work with a form of magic she’d never seen before in her life.
Struggling as she got to the fourth sigil, Mara could already begin to feel the strain on her mind. Pushing through, she made it and the next before wincing at the impending migraine that seemed all but inevitable.
With an audible grunt, Celeste watched as Mara finished the sixth floating symbol it seemed she needed to create. But just as the last met with its pair, the first set suddenly twisted into a circle, causing a truly frustrated look to flit across Mara’s face. Struggling to understand what her skill was trying to convey, Mara felt like she’d missed a critical week of algebra all over again.
Okay– This I recognize, but how does Trace know what order or shapes to use?
Repositioning each of her marks to hover in front of its mirror image, Mara frowned as she tried to suss out some rhyme or reason to what was clearly Rune magic. As she completed the process, her frustration only grew as nothing seemed to happen. Each beat of her heart seemed to only exist to ram home how incompetent she still was with Runes. Trace seemed to be waiting for her to do something, but for the life of her, Mara had no idea what she was supposed to do.
What’s the difference between this and the runes in the obelisk!? What am I not getting about this!? Trace clearly knows this should work, but I must be missing something. When I destroyed that rune… there was something inside it… but what?
Idly searching around her for any sort of inspiration, Mara tried to flip her query. What did she know about them so far? The best analogy that came to mind was hieroglyphs, but more in reference to how confounding they seemed to be. Alternatives that floated to mind were emojis and words, but neither felt like the right fit as she tried them on.
They’re always in a circle, which cycles mana throughout it, but not necessarily in a linear manner, but rather with branching connections. Though the only concrete aspect are the sigils themselves, the connections were dynamic and fleeting with each cycle of mana. The sigils themselves contained something… Like an idea, but with drive– It was too fleeting to feel much more than that, but in hindsight, it sort of felt like… heartbreak.
Looking to her skill for answers, Mara hoped it could understand her confusion. The sigils, or empty marks as they were, appeared as complete gibberish to her. There were no intricate connections being made, her incomplete rune was as still as stone-henge, and just as confounding. Straining every imaginary magic muscle she had, Mara practically pleaded, if not wished for Trace to understand, and maybe even empathize with her. Somehow it knew these were the right sigils, the right order, so it must know what they meant.
As if to respond, all of Trace’s tendrils flickered for an instant, then flickered again but twice over. The air grew frigid, ice crystals beginning to form on the plants as they could no longer abate their sheer drop in temperature. Shaking off the urge to shiver as she looked on, Mara watched the impossible cold snap devour the entire garden. Soon every plant in sight was an ice-cactus mimicry of its former shape, shards adorning every surface, all pointing towards the epicenter of Trace’s work.
Massive amounts of mana were being pulled from the environment, but neither Mara nor Celeste could take their eyes away from the swirling supernova of tendrils. One by one, mass branches of Trace were pulled into the swirling mass, dragging space back together like a zipper, bits of icy plants and fence vanishing like an optical illusion folding in upon itself. Each lashing throng of light caused Trace to increasingly flicker out of sight with each pull.
In the odd-dusk of her new world, Mara could only watch as her skill continued to strobe out of sight. Whatever it was doing was far beyond anything she’d ever seen it do before, but her focus was torn as the mirrored runes began to rotate. With an ear-splitting crack, the first sigil lit up with an intensity bright enough to momentarily blind Mara.
That was more than light– I felt that... What… What are you doing Trace?
As a second crack resonated from the heart of the flickering mass of light, a second sigil bloomed as bright as the first, and another nudge brushed against Mara’s mind.
Rescindo… Caelus… Aren’t those Latin words?... No, it’s more than that…
As a third sigil burst to life, Mara barely had time to notice Celeste shielding her eyes from the light before her vision was obscured once more. Yet this time, bursts of memories rose to the forefront of her mind as well.
Muto– A car backing up– Two galaxies spinning– Swiping a debit card– Whoa… what the hell was that? Was that… Is that what they mean? Like some kind of memory to a word?
Looking towards the incredibly dense cluster of violently spinning light, Mara saw there were only two tendrils of ‘new space’ remaining, but conversely, Trace appeared to be rapidly disintegrating. Mass sections of the orb had failed to return after so many consecutive flickers, and as another chunk dropped out of existence, the fourth sigil overwhelmed her sight.
Reddo– Watering a dying plant– More latin visions… but there’s more this time too… ‘Reverse’, ‘Space’, ‘Exchange’– The first three words? No– I felt those words. Sliding backwards… Empty loneliness… Getting paid?
Finding her vision fading back to normal, Mara quickly checked on Trace again before the fifth sigil triggered. Her skill was clearly going into overdrive, and suffering for every second of it, but it was still holding together by some miracle. The ground beneath it had turned into a deadly ice sculpture of razor sharp spires as all of the moisture in the air condensed under the immense drain of mana. With another chest-quaking snap, the fifth tendril of Trace yanked both itself and the ‘new space’ into the heart of its maelstrom, causing the fifth sigil to snatch away her vision in a flood of white.
Normalitatis– A bell-curve graph. ‘Restore’– A nice bubble-bath, and ‘Normality’– Like I’m getting home after a long day…
Glancing around as her eyes readjusted to the rainbow-lit garden of ice, Mara tried not to be distracted by the devastatingly beautiful hail-mary of a performance her skill was conducting. The first five sigils spelled out what seemed like a spell– How her skill knew any of this was beyond her, but at this point she had no doubts that it at least knew what it was doing. The poor, tattered, almost dying light of her skill swirled with a renewed ferocity as the flickering reached a point where it was gone more than it wasn’t.
With a truly terrifying speed, the last branch of space was hoovered up into Trace’s remaining core, followed by a gut-wrenching crack that sounded like the heavens themselves were separating and a truly blinding flash of light as the final sigil erupted into existence.
Votum– ‘Wish’.
Only two words, that was all Mara got as the nexus of her skill vanished into nothingness, just as the rune began to spin into a complete blur like a ceiling fan set too high. As vital seconds crept by, Mara’s mind raced as to what her skill had meant. It hadn’t given her any images or feelings, just a latin word and its translation.
Does that mean… I need to provide those? An idea with drive… a wish upon a star.
Pulling up all her memories of both Debug and Trace, Mara tried to express her urgency to have both back with her as they were before. Pushing her feelings towards the near-unbroken circle of white light, Mara extended her palm towards the center as she willed every fiber of her being into channeling mana towards her goal.
With a grunt that seemed to emanate from everywhere around her, Mara felt something pulled from deep within her as the rune crackled to life like lightning, as a massive rush of air began to expel from where Trace had just been condensing upon. Arcs of electricity raced from her first-ever rune towards the fissure of space and magic, clawing at it for purchase until, one after another, the electric arcs seized upon their prey.
As the fury of her emotions coursed through the air, Mara could barely hear Celeste shouting amongst the tempest, a vague cry of confusion adrift in a blizzard of deafening noise. But her focus was unwavering, whatever she’d done, Mara felt pulled with the current, a part of her unwillingly dragged along with her wish, unable to tear herself from what she’d committed.