8th of Ymiden, Late Evening, 718
He'd come to the river for introspection and relief from the heat. Even in the evening of Ymiden, warmth clung to the ground like a cloying blanket. There seemed to be simply no other relief from it than to be near water, but even the river was heating up. Battered by the sun, it was less of an icy plunge and more a lukewarm bath. It was still cooler than the surrounding heat, however, and Jon settled into one of the pools to get some sort of shield from the hot night air. Wasn't night supposed to be cool? Instead it seemed the forest was in the middle of a doldrums. No wind rustled the leaves, or shook the grass. Everything was still and suffocated under warmth. A slight breeze would be a mercy this season wasn't willing to provide. Thankfully even the lukewarm river broke the silence with its burbling voice. The depths of the deepest pools here were coolest. While his neck and shoulders might have been stuck in bathwater, his feet had found the freezing water settled to the bottom of the rocky bath. That alone helped to wash away the sweat caked on his skin.
However, he couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong. He didn't want it to be wrong. Gods knew he just wanted to lay in this pool for hours until he turned into a prune and felt like braving the heat again. He was finally understanding why Mer forsake the land. If he could be in the water for all of Ymiden he'd be a happy man. Maybe they had some grand underwater city he could live in for the whole of the hot season. Then again, there was that feeling of wrongness. It wasn't a genuine knowledge that something was wrong. Only that strange feeling of being watched. Normally he'd just attribute it to Hob. After all, the Harvester constantly gave off that feeling he was watching what Jon said and did or thunk. This was somehow different. More sinister. He frowned, laying his cheek on one of the stones.
He just couldn't quite shake the feeling.
That was answered with a sudden rush of heat. This wasn't Ymiden, this was a baleful, ignited ball of ether that blew past his face and singed the top of his head. Jon reflexively ducked under the water, opening his eyes to watch the smoke trail hovering above the surface of the water dissipate. Fire. A defier? What was a defier doing all the way out here? Either way, he was a sitting duck in the pond and though the mage had missed he clearly had been aiming for Jon's head. It was now or never. He couldn't wait until the mage navigated his little sculpture field. He burst up and out of the water, clawing over the rocks and taking refuge behind his largest sculpture. It was an air plant that had taken him trials to finish, and he really hated using it as a shield. Another fiery blast thudded against the granite and made it uncomfortably warm. Jon watched one of the delicate little curls he'd spent so much time sculpting snap and fall into the water with a plip. Jon scowled. Had that really been necessary?
The wheels were turning in his head as the defier continued to unload on the rock. By the uncomfortable heat building in the granite, he either meant to shatter it or melt it. Probably the former given how much the water was starting to hiss. Such a swift temperature change wasn't going to do the stone any favors. Jon had to think of something. Transmuters dealt in ether, just as every other mage, but he was starting to realize that while other mages used it as a blunt tool...Transmuters truly understood it. The fire blasting his rocky shield was only an expression of his assailant's ether. Ether, while it held a bit of a fingerprint from other mages was still just ether. Maybe he could do something about the firebug. "Come on! Enough of this! I've not harmed you at all!" he protested loudly between blasts.
"Bullshit! You're that Aberrant from the square! The one with the giant hairless monster!" The defier shouted back. Oh lord. Those bullies who had been attacking Zafir. One of them had been a fire defier, and had been using that gift to make the Ellune uncomfortable. Honestly, if Jon hadn't summoned Daeva the poor man might have been set alight. Jon glared. "You attacked my friend." he growled. "What sort of coward uses his fire to torture an Ellune?"
"Shut up and come out from behind that fucking rock, you abomination!"
Well clearly, this one wasn't going to argue with him. Jon didn't have a choice. It was test his theory or use Hob. He might give the mage over to the Harvester anyway; Hob's attention was straight on the mage. He wanted that ether. It was like a bird dog staring at quail. "Final warning." Jon called out. It was only sporting. The response was to blast off one of the air plant's long curling limbs. It crashed into the water and broke into a hundred pieces. That was fucking it. Jon leapt out from behind the rock, and extended out his own ether. This time, when the mage blasted him...he absorbed it. The other mage's ether flowed around him, angry and biting. A strong will crushed it under the heel of Jon's own ether. He couldn't hold it. It wasn't a prisoner that was given to staying very long. At the end of the day the mage's signature made it unique, and Jon couldn't force it to become one with his own. Instead, he injected his own ether into it, and hurled it back at the defier.
Redirecting the man's ether at its master worked. His ether missile slammed the other man from his position beneath the falls straight onto his back. Jon heard him cry out in pain, and Hob growled. The prey was down and vulnerable. Jon couldn't stop to marvel at what he'd just done. He was angry. He clambered down as fast as he could to look at his work. The mage was burned, and badly. The blast had hit him right in the midsection and charred him. The defier might have been at home with fire, but fire redirected by a Transmuter was no one's master. He was blistering and bubbling, his skin more like a crisp tart shell than actual flesh. The man was uttering high pitched cries of agony, writhing on the shore. "I warned you." Jon's voice was lower. Predatory. Hob was filling him with the need and want of a hunter. Jon understood the want a Harvester had to see agony and pain. It triggered some instinct long driven out of humans. The want to hurt.
He got on his knees and sank his fingernails deep into the defier's chest. The man screamed, a horrible thin sound that rang in his ears and drowned out the sound of the river. "You broke my sculptures, and hurt my friend." Jon growled, and yanked with everything in his being. He was tearing apart the man's soul. He was peeling it back like a surgeon and ripping it to pieces. Ether flowed into him like lightning, strengthening between himself and Hob. He shared his gift with his Harvester, his eyes lighting up with the sheer power he felt. Flaying a man was fine. Flaying a mage was a spiritual experience. The defier's spark was a delicacy he could split in half and offer to his Harvester as it died. They both consumed it, body and soul. Jon's fingers were no longer sunk in burned flesh, but rather in a crumbling ashen corpse.
Jon settled back, breathing in the stuffy Ymiden air and staring at the man. Or what had once been a man. The ashes were collapsing under the struggle to hold up the complicated shape. Hob was a satisfied creature in the back of his mind. Jon's blood hummed with power, and he had little doubt if there had been another living creature nearby he would have flayed it as well. The urge faded, becoming something more in the background. It was an addiction like any other and Jon had just shot up. He turned away from the sight to look at his air plant. The sculpture was a bit rugged; one of its petals had been blasted off and the others were sagging a bit from the heat the defier had poured into them. Jon would fix it later. Right now he wanted to enjoy the high. He pulled himself back into the pool and laid his head on a rock, watching the ashes crumble. He wasn't some young pup now. He was powerful. He was masterful. He'd used both Transmutation and Aberration to remove an enemy. He wondered if Zafir would be happy to know that he'd gained revenge.
"Talkin"
He'd come to the river for introspection and relief from the heat. Even in the evening of Ymiden, warmth clung to the ground like a cloying blanket. There seemed to be simply no other relief from it than to be near water, but even the river was heating up. Battered by the sun, it was less of an icy plunge and more a lukewarm bath. It was still cooler than the surrounding heat, however, and Jon settled into one of the pools to get some sort of shield from the hot night air. Wasn't night supposed to be cool? Instead it seemed the forest was in the middle of a doldrums. No wind rustled the leaves, or shook the grass. Everything was still and suffocated under warmth. A slight breeze would be a mercy this season wasn't willing to provide. Thankfully even the lukewarm river broke the silence with its burbling voice. The depths of the deepest pools here were coolest. While his neck and shoulders might have been stuck in bathwater, his feet had found the freezing water settled to the bottom of the rocky bath. That alone helped to wash away the sweat caked on his skin.
However, he couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong. He didn't want it to be wrong. Gods knew he just wanted to lay in this pool for hours until he turned into a prune and felt like braving the heat again. He was finally understanding why Mer forsake the land. If he could be in the water for all of Ymiden he'd be a happy man. Maybe they had some grand underwater city he could live in for the whole of the hot season. Then again, there was that feeling of wrongness. It wasn't a genuine knowledge that something was wrong. Only that strange feeling of being watched. Normally he'd just attribute it to Hob. After all, the Harvester constantly gave off that feeling he was watching what Jon said and did or thunk. This was somehow different. More sinister. He frowned, laying his cheek on one of the stones.
He just couldn't quite shake the feeling.
That was answered with a sudden rush of heat. This wasn't Ymiden, this was a baleful, ignited ball of ether that blew past his face and singed the top of his head. Jon reflexively ducked under the water, opening his eyes to watch the smoke trail hovering above the surface of the water dissipate. Fire. A defier? What was a defier doing all the way out here? Either way, he was a sitting duck in the pond and though the mage had missed he clearly had been aiming for Jon's head. It was now or never. He couldn't wait until the mage navigated his little sculpture field. He burst up and out of the water, clawing over the rocks and taking refuge behind his largest sculpture. It was an air plant that had taken him trials to finish, and he really hated using it as a shield. Another fiery blast thudded against the granite and made it uncomfortably warm. Jon watched one of the delicate little curls he'd spent so much time sculpting snap and fall into the water with a plip. Jon scowled. Had that really been necessary?
The wheels were turning in his head as the defier continued to unload on the rock. By the uncomfortable heat building in the granite, he either meant to shatter it or melt it. Probably the former given how much the water was starting to hiss. Such a swift temperature change wasn't going to do the stone any favors. Jon had to think of something. Transmuters dealt in ether, just as every other mage, but he was starting to realize that while other mages used it as a blunt tool...Transmuters truly understood it. The fire blasting his rocky shield was only an expression of his assailant's ether. Ether, while it held a bit of a fingerprint from other mages was still just ether. Maybe he could do something about the firebug. "Come on! Enough of this! I've not harmed you at all!" he protested loudly between blasts.
"Bullshit! You're that Aberrant from the square! The one with the giant hairless monster!" The defier shouted back. Oh lord. Those bullies who had been attacking Zafir. One of them had been a fire defier, and had been using that gift to make the Ellune uncomfortable. Honestly, if Jon hadn't summoned Daeva the poor man might have been set alight. Jon glared. "You attacked my friend." he growled. "What sort of coward uses his fire to torture an Ellune?"
"Shut up and come out from behind that fucking rock, you abomination!"
Well clearly, this one wasn't going to argue with him. Jon didn't have a choice. It was test his theory or use Hob. He might give the mage over to the Harvester anyway; Hob's attention was straight on the mage. He wanted that ether. It was like a bird dog staring at quail. "Final warning." Jon called out. It was only sporting. The response was to blast off one of the air plant's long curling limbs. It crashed into the water and broke into a hundred pieces. That was fucking it. Jon leapt out from behind the rock, and extended out his own ether. This time, when the mage blasted him...he absorbed it. The other mage's ether flowed around him, angry and biting. A strong will crushed it under the heel of Jon's own ether. He couldn't hold it. It wasn't a prisoner that was given to staying very long. At the end of the day the mage's signature made it unique, and Jon couldn't force it to become one with his own. Instead, he injected his own ether into it, and hurled it back at the defier.
Redirecting the man's ether at its master worked. His ether missile slammed the other man from his position beneath the falls straight onto his back. Jon heard him cry out in pain, and Hob growled. The prey was down and vulnerable. Jon couldn't stop to marvel at what he'd just done. He was angry. He clambered down as fast as he could to look at his work. The mage was burned, and badly. The blast had hit him right in the midsection and charred him. The defier might have been at home with fire, but fire redirected by a Transmuter was no one's master. He was blistering and bubbling, his skin more like a crisp tart shell than actual flesh. The man was uttering high pitched cries of agony, writhing on the shore. "I warned you." Jon's voice was lower. Predatory. Hob was filling him with the need and want of a hunter. Jon understood the want a Harvester had to see agony and pain. It triggered some instinct long driven out of humans. The want to hurt.
He got on his knees and sank his fingernails deep into the defier's chest. The man screamed, a horrible thin sound that rang in his ears and drowned out the sound of the river. "You broke my sculptures, and hurt my friend." Jon growled, and yanked with everything in his being. He was tearing apart the man's soul. He was peeling it back like a surgeon and ripping it to pieces. Ether flowed into him like lightning, strengthening between himself and Hob. He shared his gift with his Harvester, his eyes lighting up with the sheer power he felt. Flaying a man was fine. Flaying a mage was a spiritual experience. The defier's spark was a delicacy he could split in half and offer to his Harvester as it died. They both consumed it, body and soul. Jon's fingers were no longer sunk in burned flesh, but rather in a crumbling ashen corpse.
Jon settled back, breathing in the stuffy Ymiden air and staring at the man. Or what had once been a man. The ashes were collapsing under the struggle to hold up the complicated shape. Hob was a satisfied creature in the back of his mind. Jon's blood hummed with power, and he had little doubt if there had been another living creature nearby he would have flayed it as well. The urge faded, becoming something more in the background. It was an addiction like any other and Jon had just shot up. He turned away from the sight to look at his air plant. The sculpture was a bit rugged; one of its petals had been blasted off and the others were sagging a bit from the heat the defier had poured into them. Jon would fix it later. Right now he wanted to enjoy the high. He pulled himself back into the pool and laid his head on a rock, watching the ashes crumble. He wasn't some young pup now. He was powerful. He was masterful. He'd used both Transmutation and Aberration to remove an enemy. He wondered if Zafir would be happy to know that he'd gained revenge.
"Talkin"
