6th Trial, Cylus, 719a
14th bell
14th bell
Continued from here
The more he used it, the easier it became to summon. Just like everything else, when he thought about it. Swordplay, cooking, fucking embroidery, it was all the same. You stumbled and stuttered at first, until you knew the basics. Then you built on those, trial by trial, until you almost forgot what the basics were. They were the foundation stones, always hidden below ground. Unseen but crucial. Kasoria would have to pause and really think before he could tell you what a riposte or a high block or a right cross were. He didn't need to know the names; all he knew was what they were, and how they worked, and when they were to be used.
One trial, it'll be the same with this. But not right now.
The little man collected his thoughts, and kept them on the narrow path he'd been walking for the last few breaks. Focus. Practice. Application. Repetition. He still had much to learn, and the ability to summon his Spark quickly was one of them. He breathed out and willed the ether to rise at the same time. By the time his lungs were empty, coiling ropes of the stuff were floating from his palms, as if he were some tentacled beast mostly forced into the shape of a man.
Not the power alone, he reminded himself, keeping his eyes closed, letting the waves regulate his breathing, clearing his mind of all distracting thoughts. What it can do. How you can mold it. How best to use it.
Kasoria frowned as thought followed thought and, as was so often the case, distractions arrived regardless. How best to use it? Ah, only history could inform that. Recent history, in fact. History with a name and a face and powers of his own. Anger, white hot and thick as lava, flashed through Kasoria's mind and the ether tentacles trembled as if in a storm.
Yusef. Him more than any other.
It took the best part of a bit for the tentacles to quell their quivering, before Kasoria got full control over them again. The Black Mage had stripped him down to his very thoughts after two days in that dungeon. Battered down his mental defenses and learned Kasoria had a son... but not a name, or an age, or even a face. Every morning he woke, the assassin did so with a jolt of fear. Realizing he had such crucial business, so far away, and he was powerless to effect it. The feeling faded quickly, but the fact it was a truth he could not change... it gnawed at him. Came with bubbling rage and sniveling fear. He hated both, useful as the former was.
Not for something like this.
He breathed out again, and this time his hands rose over his head... then passed down in front of himself. The tentacles seemed to spread out and make a curtain before him, spreading and then pulling in closer as he brought his hands to his chest. Now a flat, solid mass, the ether seemed to stick to him like a shirt, spreading across his chest and shoulders and finally his back... then up his face.
Kasoria smiled as he felt the power of his Spark tickle and singe the few hairs he had left on his face, but not hurt him, or smother him. They were off him, of his soul, but not of his body. Not realyy. That was just where it rested. Sima had told him that all creatures that thought and dreamed had a Spark. From worms and ants to mighty monsters and the Immortals themselves. The body was a vessel for it, just like it was the soul. But it didn't obey all the same rules.
The little man on the dock chuckled as he let the glow spread over him, until his entire body from the waist up was covered. He frowned as he sent a message pulsing through it, mouthing the single word as he did so: "Mute."
He could feel the nature of the ether around him change, and then the sizzling tickling vanished.The ether sunk into his flesh and hid itself from sight, without actually becoming solid or immobile. But he could feel the denseness under his skin; the sudden shift from glowing smoke into a barrier. Muting. Another lesson from Sima, brusquely given and explained, but good enough for him to build on. That was where Yusef had him: recognizing his nascent magic and stomping it to death before he could use it. Attunement was what he'd used; "Jamming", it was called. The power to reach into the soul of a mage and strangle their Spark to death so magic could not be used. But if there was no magic to be found, then...
That's the trick, he told himself, breathing slow and steady as he maintained the new barrier, keeping his magic hidden, lurking under his skin but very much there. That and making sure you know to hide the Mute when you cast it. Fuck's the point of stopping people from sensing you have magic, if they can see you have magic?
Kasoria grunted to himself, and allowed his eyes to flicker open. The lake was unchanged, of course. Nothing changed for it, save the frequency of the waves and how far up the beach they lapped. Kasoria took some solace in that: a contemplation of eternity, well-suited to meditation. He tilted his chin back and breathed out steam into cold false night of Cylus. All the while, he kept feeding ether into the Muting spell. Half of him hoped that little shite Finn was spying on him, in cast brother followed sister and he had his own Attunement he could try... and Kasoria could see if his training was getting him anywhere.
This is enough for now. It has to be.
