milliways_bar | (no subject)

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And Lo, there is, again, the same (un)loved pale girl, with her books, notes, and drawing pad. And of course, she must be again plotting terror and woe.

Or just reading and studying while inspiration does not strike for today's drawing session. One or the other.

[New PB, same pup. No, her looks did not change, just I decided she needed a human face.]

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"It puts the dragons in jeopardy."

Dragons are... are something grand.

"They do not care even about themselves, Telemain. They do not care." Ravin still does.

A bit, at least.

A slow, deep intake of breath.

That's not... no.

That's not how things should be.

"That is what Evil is, Telemain. That is how bad some beings are." The girl shrugs a bit, putting away her work, and taking her drawing pad, pencils and markers.

"I'm sorry you have to live in this world."

He opens a book vehemently and tries to focus on the text. Tries not to broadcast that this... this disturbs him.

"Don't be, I am evil too. Just not destructive like some are." And she knows better than to mess with dragons.

"What are you studying?"

He shakes his head lightly, because he doesn't (can't) see it.

"An old text I had the good fortune to recover from an elderly friend of mine, who's trying to see that her library goes to a loving home. It's also Latin. I might ask you the same question, of course? What spells are those."

"A bit of illusion, a bit of enchantment; I am trying to redo a few spells with a bit of Permanence and Extension so they last longer. Some guy gave me the idea by accident."

"Which spells and why?"

He's a magical theoretician. This is what he does.

"Reduce Person, Enlarge Person, Alter Self... the Polymorph section of Transmutation." Yes, she is planning how to make magic changes permanent... or long-lasting.

"For yourself, or for others, and with or without consent?"

It changes things.

"I don't have an objective for them yet. The idea was interesting, so... I decided to see if I can do it." Ravin shrugs, starting a drawing.

"In certain types of magic it's possible for short periods of time based on will. My instincts say self-transformation would be the simplest. Although, perhaps the least advisable to experiment with."

"Only if you are a wyld mage. Usually, all you need to do is to follow the spell and rote." Ravin tilts head. "That is the whole idea of spells and rotes, have the same result always."

"Yes, but where I'm from they have them because someone has taken a concept, bent it to their will, and tied it forcibly to the words. I'm trying to create a spell to draw on soap and water with lemon juice, for defensive purposes. Ideally, if all goes as planned, when the work is complete simply saying a word will allow whoever is part of the spell to activate it."

He doesn't know the word yet.

"How do you make the word? I use runes and Kaja, to compose a Word of Power when needed, or a set of gestures. Sometimes a spelll needs a material reagent too." Now she is a bit more curious about his kind of magic.

"I choose one. By creating the original spell, it becomes mine. It's-- when you fashion the lock, you choose the shape of the key. It needs to be something that does not come up in every day conversation, obviously. It wouldn't do to mention livestock and suddenly have all the candles near you light."

Wouldn't do at all.

"Like this?" She brings out a small leather pouch from a pocket, and sprinkles a red dust into an ashtray. "Emal Flaun Itnoc." A flame, about the size and brightness to the average torch, springs forth. It gives out white light, burning... nothing. Self-sustaining?

A muttered word, and a ball of light appears over his head. This isn't a burning-- it's a guide.

But it is white and seems hot, and it vanishes with another nonsensical mutter.

Her fire continues to burn. "It lasts forever, unless conter-magicked by someone with higher skill than me. Useful to provide light in libraries."

"Does it produce heat? Setting the library aflame would be counter productive."

Obviously.

"Mine- well, I do not know if it maintains while I sleep or not, however it requires no effort."

As an answer, she just rests her hand on the ashtray, letting the fire dance upwards past the gaps between her fingers. "No fire, no burn. Ever-burning -real- fire is much harder to do."

"Fascinating."

He watches.

"Is the powder inherently magical or have you tied to magic to it, as a catalyst?"

"The powder is ruby dust, ground very fine and calcinated. Nothing really magical on it. Fifty gold pieces for a packet like this." She raises the small leather bag.

"Don't waste it on examples."

He shakes his head.

"Although, I'm flattered."