A Mismatched meeting? [Cara]

[Nanithel]

64 of Fall 511 AV - Early afternoon The day had been beautifully sunny with light blue skies dotted with darker clouds heavy with snow, late in fall that was not an unusual sight. Nanithel had been out with Windy at her favourite field, it was snow covered as everything else but it was always smooth and any larger dents in the snow Nan could fix with her gnosis mark. Her dappled mare was still counted as young, only seven years so Nanithel had been out training her with a short training pass with a lot of volts and serpentines to loosen Windy's muscles and get both her right and left side equally strong. Now White Elk Stables rose in front of the pair as a dark shape against the pure white snow, an inviting building amidst the cold landscape of Avanthal. Slowing Windy to a halt outside the door Nan swung her right leg over the mare's back and jumped off the horse and then pulled up the stirrups before loosening the girth. Nanithel had kept Windy at a normal walking pace most of the way back so the mare was already cooled off. taking the reins in one hand Nan led her mare into the stables and to the stall that was reserved for Windy greeting the Vantha that worked there or was there to care for their mounts. Taking off the tack Nan hung that up outside the stall to take care off when she was done she then started brushing Windy with a rougher brush to remove most dirt and sweat as well as brushing through the mane and tail. When done she also checked the mare's hooves, picking them clean before sending almost half an hour on brushing Windy using a smoother brush and rake to both clean more effectively and to provide a sort of massage for the mare. Finally she believed herself to be done and so she left Windy in the stall after giving her a carrot and left to take care off the tack, cleaning the bit and drying the leather to avoid wearing it out. Nanithel then left the stables to head back to the Frostfawn hold, the wind had died down to a soft breeze and all the sounds seemed to quiet down now that the wind wasn't covering most of the sounds. Avanthal could be a very calm and quiet place at times like these, outside the holds with snow that lessened the sounds. Not entirely quiet though. Nanithel stopped in her tracks to listen, it sounded like a person, a girl, or rather a young woman maybe. A shiver distracted Nanithel and she regretted her earlier decision, the day had been warm so she had opted against her cloak, maybe not the smartest move but after a quick touch on her wrist where her snowflake gnosis mark was placed she felt warm and snug again. Concentrating on the sounds again Nan's curiosity was awoken and so she decided to find the source.

[Cara]

Cara was standing to the side of her Hold, away from the stables. Her hood had been pushed back onto her shoulders, allowing the breeze to cleanly sweep her hair away, as she closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel her magic settling in the pit of her stomach. Curling itself into a comfortable position, much as a cat or dog would before bed. Awaken! Cara instructed, calling her magic forth. Forcing it to wake from its slumber. Her djed seemed to lift its head, and glance around warily, fighting to keep its eyes open. It is time for you to carry out your mistress' bidding... Cara called, trying to further rouse her magic. The djed seemed to shake its head slowly, as though warding off the last of Nysel's cobwebs. Come, it is time to get to work, Cara called, as her djed slowly rose, and stretched its muscles. To the fingertips, where you may be molded into something more. Slowly, tenderly, Cara's djed rose from the pit of her stomach, into her lungs, filling her with an overwhelming sense of warmth as it then headed to her heart, and then into her throat, where it split in two. One half crawling down the length of her right arm, the rest, down the length of her left. The Vantha smiled, as she forced her djed into her fingertips. Forced herself to concentrate on its warmth, the sense of elation she knew she would experience as soon as she had freed it from her flesh, turned it to res. The ecstasy. The rapture. Finally, when the djed reached her fingers, Cara allowed it to rise out of her flesh, in swirling light blue mist. Her res. It pooled atop each of her hands, and when it grew too large to hold, spiraled around the length of her arms. Two ethereal bracelets. Snakes, that caressed their owner's flesh. Show us your power. Craft us into something great, so that we may do your bidding... let us serve your will, the magic seemed to whisper. Cara simply smiled. She would, given time. The Vantha allowed her res to keep pooling, winding itself around her arms, before she opened her eyes. "Now we are ready my love, to make you into something great. Something the world isn't likely to forget," she cooed, as she filled the large, res orbs that still hovered upon her palms with earth. Hard-packed dirt, which strangely, held that newly-trampled smell, as though horses had recently trod upon them. Slowly, Cara lowered herself onto her knees. Allowing them to sink into the snow, as she placed each of the res orbs on the ground, and gave them a gentle push. Releasing them from her hold, and into the elemental wastes of her city. Do more for us mistress. Cast more... give us more life. More power, her mind seemed to whisper. But it sounded as though it were her magic, to Cara. Its sweet, sultry voice, which continually, managed to melt her heart. Make her give into its needs. After the orbs filled with dirt had rolled a few inches, Cara lit the outer rim on fire. Allowing a yellow light to glow against the snow. After that time, she filled any spaces within the orb, with more fire. Together, the fire burned with the earth, turning to magma, which sank into the ground. Leaving blackened soot along the snow as it slithered down through the blanket of white, away from the Hold. Cara's heart was pounding. Perhaps this was how her mother had felt, when utilizing her own three elements. Before Cara had killed her, of course. OOCI don't know why... but I always personify her magic when she is first starting to use it.

[Nanithel]

Hearing the snow crunch under her thick wadded boots and even with her mark from Morwen she was thankful for her warm fur lined cloak wrapped around her. The sounds increased as she came closer and soon an pale blue light seeped through the needles on the coniferous trees shielding the source from Nanithel's eyes. Walking nearer, her eyes a greenish gold with excitement, strained to see through the branches, her black hair fell in waves beside her face when she pulled her hood off. Then, she could finally see what was causing the swirling light. A Vantha woman stood in the glade that stretched out from where Nan stood, her dark hair moving with the wind, around her arms blue mist twined their way up from her palms. It was an alluring sight, a pull from a force stronger than the young Vantha had ever felt, but the feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach reminded her of last year, without really being sure Nan guessed this to be magic, or was it called reimancy? Nan wasn't sure, she had so far not been so interested in those arts but the sight of the Vantha woman controlling the blue mist and filled the orbs she' been forming with earth. Even from her distance Nan could smell the fresh earthy smell, wondering how earth out here on the frozen lands earth could smell like that. Looking on in amazement Nan saw the Vantha place he earth orbs on the ground as she kneeled down on the white ground. Without seeing how it came to be a fire was suddenly spreading around the earth before moulding together in a fight of nature until they both combined into a slow moving magma giving off an orange glow. Seeing how the magma then sank into the ground, melting the snow and blackening the ground Nanithel couldn't hold back a gasp, the impressive show was a beautiful show of power and also poured a bit of fear into Nan's heart. Feeling an unusual need to know more, unusual as it involved another person, but Nan had learned to take more from life this fall. She hadn't just moved on from her deep rooted personality but had taken a few small steps in the right direction at least. "That was amazing," she said out loud to the woman while moving into the clearing. Wondering which hold the woman came from, Nan couldn't really remember her, but then again she'd grown up in the Frostfawn hold and still not recognized Vanwen, a Vantha boy also raised among the Frostfawn's. "I'm Nanithel Frostfawn by the way." Nan continued, she did not want to risk embarrassing herself by forgetting to introduce herself again, it had been bad enough that one time. OOCThat made it very interesting to read actually, and intriguing to have your magic speak to you, or imagine it does:)

[Cara]

Cara looked up from the sight of her magma pouring over the white blanket of the season, to Nanithel. Her eyes taking on the nature of the fire she had long been able to cast- the iris changing from a deep violet, to a ruby red, with the occasional fleck of bright yellow, and orange. Her eyes settled on the other woman's, the younger woman's, she supposed, given her height and weight, and general inability to know the sight of Cara well enough, that she should have the good sense to stay far, far away. The eyes, a greenish gold, which to Cara, signified naivety, more than a sense of excitement. The olive-colored skin, which seemed unnaturally transparent, when the sun kissed it. She must only be a half blood, Cara surmised, as she eased herself onto her feet, and drew herself up to her full height. The young sorceress turned to face Nanithel head on. "That was nothing," she growled, "compared to the ugly old wench which pushed me out of her womb some twenty-five years ago..." Cara's voice trailed off as she cast her gaze downwards, towards the pool of magma which was continuing to cascade down the gentle, nearly unrecognizable slope, away from her hold. She would have to do something to halt it soon, lest it get out of hand, and harm someone of importance. Or perhaps, something. After a moment, Cara turned back to Nanithel, allowing her gaze to sweep over her form. "But now that she's dead, it shouldn't be all that difficult to catch up to her," Cara added, as her lips curled into a devilish grin. "Or surpass her skill, for that matter." Cara's res continued to wind around the length of her arm. A slender mist, that seemed to hiss and lift one of its ends, as though staring off at the unwelcome Frostfawn. You should make us into something great, the res seemed to whisper. Something that will offer Nanithel but a taste of your power. Our power... that which we may become, together. Cara's eyes sparkled with the light that reflected off the snowy bed that surrounded her. She liked the idea. The way the magic spoke to her. Its whispers. You don't want our brothers and sisters to have all the fun, do you? The magic asked, as it wound up the length of her arm, and then made its way around her neck. Its head circling upwards, towards her ear. It was as though she could feel its hot breath. The heat of her first element. Its intensity. Cara was certain she could hear it in its voice. Sense each of their longing, as her heart beat like a drum in her slender rib cage. Only you can make us great Cara... all you have to do is release us from this pitiful form... this sorry existence, the magic went on, causing the woman's smile to widen. "As you wish," she whispered to it, as she raised her arms rapidly, and tossed the coils of res from her body. They seemed to spin through the air, refusing to relinquish their shape. Once they had spun to a location in the air, about six feet in front of her, Cara lit the outside on fire. The fire crackled, casting everything in its bright orange-yellow glow. The snow, the magma which trailed behind the front of its train. Cara watched the fire sail away. Seemingly rejoicing in its newfound power, its strength. After it had moved another several feet, Cara clapped her hands together. The coils collided, and rose to an even greater height. Before there was a large cracking noise, and everything ripped apart. Tiny sparks flying in every which direction. Sizzling as they sank into the snow, and were put out. Tiny tendrils of grey smoke swirling into the air. The stench of raw power, of fire, finally sinking into her bones. Cara had never taken her eyes off of it. The sight was simply too mesmerizing. Now, her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body sighing with the pleasure casting her magic had caused. That was a true show of power Cara, her mind whispered. You are well on your way to greatness... The words seemed to curl around her form. Snuggling her, suffocating her like a wool blanket. Her hands had balled into fists. She felt... intoxicated. Rapture. Euphoric. Cara wanted more. It came almost as a surprise then, when she turned to Nanithel then, to find her still there. Cara almost wondered, why she had not yet run. With bloodshot eyes, she settled her gaze upon the younger woman. "Cara Frostfawn," she growled. "The one who walks with fire." She paused for a moment, before looking back to her pool of magma. She could see some of it bubbling, as it sank into the earth. Small portions of it being swallowed by one of its makers. Cara sighed. "Tell me Frostfawn. Do you think that magma will cease to exist on its own? Or should something be done to snuff it out, pre-maturely, if you will?" OOCWhy thank you.

[Nanithel]

The cold with which the woman declared her mother's death chilled Nanithel more than the cold, it surely wasn't possible this woman, this Vantha had killed her own mother. Nan's couldn't imagine someone harbouring such malice for their own parents, Nan's father was unknown though her step father was more than what her real father could ever be, and Nan couldn't imagine a world where her loving, warm and sweet mother wasn't alive. Nanithel had truly not much knowledge outside of her so far peaceful world. But no matter how the woman's cold and almost cruel attitude so far Nan couldn't bring herself to leave, it was something mesmerising with magic. Watching in awe at the woman's further display off power as she spread out a large fire that crackled and surrounded them with heat. The orange red glow reflected from every little snowflake, colouring the snow and ice all around them the colour of blood. No matter how weird it seemed Nanithel was sure, after studying the woman for awhile, that she seemed to treat her magic as a creature, it even seemed like she listened to it. Either that or she just stared at it like it was a living being for fun. With a single movement the woman caused the fire to roar and grow to enormous proportions before it vanished in a into small sparks with a loud cracking sound. Nanithel blinked like she'd awoken from a nap as the woman spoke to her, she was indeed a Frostfawn, a bit embarrassing she had to admit but maybe this Cara had not spent much time in Avanthal. Or on the other hand maybe it was entirely possible, she really needed to start paying a lot more attention to faces and not just avoid people. "I don't think magma can just vanish out of existence like that without anyone's interference." Nanithel said, puzzled over the strange question. "Nothing can just disappear forever, like it never existed. Sure we can put out fire, but it quickly returns, you can snuff out that magma if you wish but I think some off it will still be here on Mizahar, maybe not in the same shape but it will come back, maybe even in a form that is recognizable for you."

[Cara]

"Wrong!" Cara growled. "Fire may always be snuffed out, should water present itself, to douse it. Or enough wind to blow it away. Fire like life, has the ability to be ended. To cease to exist." The Vantha paused for a moment, as she listened to the soft, bubbling sound her magma produced. As she listened to the gentle whistling of the breeze, as she allowed it to caress her skin, offer her its ethereal embrace. As she allowed it to sweep her long black hair off her shoulders, and cause it to hover on individual currents for a time, before letting everything settle back down, into its proper place. "If I wish it, I can cast another spell, call another element forth, to destroy that which I have already conjured. Brought into the realm of life, for as long as it pleases me. As long as it pleases the eyes of those foolish enough to stand around, and witness the power one can easily call forth from the tips of their fingers," Cara continued, her tone still rather icy, although not as much so as before. "Watch, and you shall bear witness to the truth of these words," Cara added, as she closed her eyes, and willed her magic to bubble up within her once more. She could feel it winding down the length of her arms, pooling in her hands. She could feel her res seeping out of her flesh. Past her pores. Into the air, a light blue mist that hovered above her palms. That curled into a small sphere. After a time, Cara doused the outside of the two res orbs in water. The liquid seemed to shine in the sunlight. To glow a pale yellow, as it reflected the star's power. She could see the moisture flowing freely as she guided each of the orbs over to her magma with several flicks of the wrist. Finally, she allowed them to sink. When the orbs hovered just above the pool of magma, close enough where the bubbles could lick her res. Close enough where it reflected the magma's fiery glow, Cara filled the rest of the res orb with water. Cara lowered her hands, allowing the orbs to sink into the magma. The magma seemed to swallow the water. Reach for it. Bubble madly as it crackled against the earth. The bubbles seemed to grow, to reach higher and higher into the sky before they popped. But other than that, nothing seemed to have changed. Cara growled. That was not supposed to happen. The magma was supposed to disappear, to be overcome with water that would soon freeze and become a bed of ice... something that could easily blend in with the natural state of things. The nature of this portion of the world... After a moment of dead silence, Cara growled, "if only one finds the correct combination of elements, they may see the truth of those words." By the time she had finished, her hands had balled into tight fists, and the edges of her cheeks had taken on a rosier shade.

[Nanithel]

"You say that fire must always be snuffed out," Nanithel said as the Vantha woman growled at her. "But will it not always come back? If one lights a fire or create it with magic doesn't really matter but even as one put it out I don't think the elements will go away forever." With Nan's introverted personality came to opportunity to think a lot, when she could be social and be with others she often chose to stay alone and ponder over what ever came to her at the moment. Maybe that was what made her more inclined to talk with this woman when she normally would not have, all long hours off silence made her quite social every once in awhile then she could stay inside her shell once more. "Besides, wind will just as often only lend power to a fire. A small spark can grow immensely with some wind, without air though the fire will shrink and die." Cara once more pulled out the strange blue magic and astonished Nan by seemingly creating water that she poured over the bubbling magma. To Nanithel's, and apparently Cara's, surprise the magma only bubbled more aggressively but it didn't darken and harden as it should do. Maybe the amount of water was insufficient, she wasn't sure, Nan knew little about magma and nature's other vast powers. Noticing the older Vantha's embarrassment Nanithel opted for not noticing it, mostly because of Cara's temper. Though as true to her nature Nan refused to show it but she was a bit scared of the woman, as a Vantha it was a hard task of keeping your feelings hidden with eyes that instantly betrayed what you felt, but Nan was still relatively good at it. "I don't know much about magic," Nan said truthfully. "But wouldn't using so much tire you eventually? Isn't it risky using up too much energy?" The only things she knew of magic Nanithel had heard her step father mention once or twice but she hadn't really paid it so much heed as of yet. But seeing Cara easily pull out her powers and create elements from nothing was certainly intriguing, breathtaking and a bit intimidating. To have such powers seemed so much for a human, but then again the gnosis marks from gods were certainly powerful as well. Nan's own mark from Morwen allowed her to melt ice and freeze water, in small amounts still, but those with more marks got increased powers. Nanithel wondered what the difference between magic and gnosis marks really were, if the only difference was the way they were used and the limit placed by the gnosis compared to the wide variety of magic. "Is gnosis marks a sort of magic in themselves do you think?" Nanithel asked the dark haired woman curiously, hoping one who knew magic would know this. OOCSorry it took awhile to reply, I've been busy this last week.

[Cara]

"Of course. Doing just about anything for a long enough period of time will tire you out, at least in part. Reading a book will strain your eyes. Running tires your legs out. Screaming your lungs, your chest. Fighting every bit of you that you bother to use. Magic is no different. It tires you, the same as everything else," Cara growled. "The thing with magic however, which people oft forget, being as bloody clueless as they are, is that magic tires users out at varying speeds. In different ways even, depending on the discipline one is utilizing." The woman paused, taking a moment to catch her breath as she considered how best to give the younger woman an example. "See for instance, there are some magic users who have just begun to dabble in the dark arts, and others who have been using magic for a lifetime. Those who are merely pawns to the whims of the magic they wield, and those who have finally learned how to control it. Those who are still novices, pathetic little weaklings who think it best to show off their skill whenever given the slightest chance, are most prone to exhaustion. Something those who use magic refer to as overgiving. Over-extending themselves so much, that they eventually, weaken themselves. End their pitiful excuses for a life, in some cases." Cara paused. "Experts, are less likely to feel this. They can use their magic for longer and longer stretches of time, and feel fewer and fewer consequences for it." Cara paused. "The way to tell a good mage, from one who believes simply, that by knowing a little magic they are powerful, and to be feared, when they are not, is to see how much they know. Or rather... how far they can get things to stretch. You see, when a leech becomes skilled in their art, they will be able to pull on the djed of another without touching. A reimancer will gain control of more of the elements. A voider can cast a greater void. Projectionists can reach farther with their ethereal limbs... get the idea?" Cara snapped. "But as I said, despite their growing power, skilled mages are not immune to over-giving... some of us, caught up in our power. The sense of ecstasy it causes to course through our veins as we cast more and more, get caught up in this feeling. Lost. They keep on going and going, pushing their limits, until they too, like those pathetic little novices, fall flat on their twisted faces." A sinister smile crossed the woman's lips as the sight of her mother's charred flesh flashed across her mind. "My mother was like this... weak in the sense that she had no control. That she could not keep herself from limiting her power so as to successfully destroy both lives she had made." Cara's smile widened. "But no matter, that provided the opening necessary to kill her... to burn her bones to the ground. Into a pile of ash that was blown into the wind. Flesh that dripped away into nothingness." Cara fell silent for quite some time after that. "Don't worry my dear. She won't be missed... she's been certain to make sure things were that way. To rid this place of anyone that would care at the time of her passing." The woman paused, allowing her gaze to settle on some bit of snow way off on the horizon. The sky even. "It would depend on the mark, what it does," Cara replied. "Don't you think?" she asked, her tone surprisingly neutral, considering all that she had said, everything she had done. How she had been acting earlier during the course of their encounter. OOCIt's alright... and omg, she seems almost nice in this post. This is soooooo not ok.

[Nanithel]

Nanithel listened intently, intrigued by the concept of magic. It was a concept that seemed out of reach for mortals but also something not too different from a gnosis mark given by a god, and Cara made it seem so normal comparing it with common practices. Still believing magic of all kinds to be dangerous it was still a bit of an ease to hear Cara treat it like every other skill, yet with respect. The sinister air around the older Vantha sent shivers down Nan's spine, to speak with such a uncaring, even disturbingly happy tone was foreign to the young Vantha, she couldn't imagine how someone could hate their mother. Of course Nan argued with her mother, but what teenager didn't do that once in their life? Then again she couldn't really judge a person without knowing their background, maybe Cara hadn't had such a good mother, but Nanithel wondered if that really justified killing your own mother for. Though Nan disliked judging people without knowing the entire story, of which one side seemed to be that Cara's mother wasn't well liked. "Yeah that'd make sense," Nan agreed. She wasn't overly knowledgeable about the different gnosis marks in Mizahar, the only one she knew most about was Morwen's Ice Reaver mark, but she had heard of stranger and more extreme gnosis marks than the shelter against the cold and ice control. "Some times I wonder why the gods gives us these marks, some races are considered children of a god, other people just fulfil the interest of one and some are born with it before showing an affinity for anything. I wonder if the gods have something in mind or if they do it just to hep and guide us."

[Cara]

The Vantha shrugged. "Does it really matter?" Cara asked. "They mark us because they deem us fit. They curse us because they think us unworthy. They see us as pitiful and weak, just as some of us view each other that way. Just as some of us see them as cowards, for hiding wherever it is they do. Save for our queen, it seems. She makes her presence known. Her location distinct. It was the same with Zintila, she was said to walk among the stars, and her people upon this plane." Cara paused for a moment, considering her own words. "They may think us puppets. Something they can bend to their will, to carry out plots and wars of old, for them. When they refuse to fight for themselves. But they forget something, we each have our own free will. If not that, then we are slaves to our past, and the people who have helped to mold us into who we are, and what we are." The Vantha ran her hand through her hair, tugging away at some of the knots. "Marks have nothing to do with it. What they want for us, or with us, has nothing to do with it. They simply cannot guide those they don't regularly come to visit, or instruct. They cannot help those they deem their children, or their friends, if they don't do anything to help light the way." Cara pulled her hand away from her hair, and stared off at her pile of bubbling magma. "These things seem more of a burden than anything else. They pit us against each other. Cause us to feel jealous of those who aren't cursed. Of those who have more marks than us. Marks that could be deemed better than the ones we carry." Cara paused. "Think about it. Everyone knows of Morwen's part in locking Ivak away. Do you believe then, that anyone who is marked by him would like our kind? That we in turn, should like anyone marked by him? Our gods are opposed. Remember that." Cara paused. "They may have given each of us something to help us. But it serves also, to help them. To have us fight their battles for them." Cara shook her head. "They don't do anything entirely for us. But perhaps, that's only fair." With that, Cara turned back to the Hold, and stopped only when she was about a foot away. Her eyes grazed over the side of the building, taking in the icicles that dripped off the edge of the roof. The blocks of ice that clung to its side. When she found a smaller patch, within her reach she extended her right hand. Curled all of her fingers save for the pointer into her palm, and then, delicately placed her fingertip against the thin wall of ice. We're not so deep, the ice seemed to sing to her. In a voice not so different than the tone her magic seemed to prefer. You could melt us. You could mold us. Cara smiled weakly, as she concentrated. She thought she could feel a slight heat radiating in her fingers. The snowflake, Morwen's mark, tingling. Growing cool, as she guided her finger around, in a small circle. About two inches high, and another two wide. As she moved it slowly, rhythmically, around and around, tracing her line the ice began to melt. Slowly. She watched as droplets of water slid down the ice wall, only to refreeze before landing in the bed of snow around her feet. It was but a few seconds before Cara freed the icy circle from the wall. Before it fell to the ground by her feet with a muffled thud. Sending flurries of snow in every which direction. The Vantha merely smiled as she bent to pick it up. As she studied it. We are the circle. The symbol which signifies how everything goes round and round. That nothing truly ends, Cara heard it whisper. Or maybe, it was simply her imagination. She ran her thumb over the circle, allowing it to cool her fingertips as she moved, almost mechanically, to the side of her magma pool. "It is foolish to forget the past," Cara called. "Foolish to think any of this can so easily be explained. Your questions answered. The sooner, child, you realize that nothing in this world can ever be explained. That nothing makes any sense, when you truly take the time to consider, the better off you will be." With that, Cara extended her hand over the bubbling pool of magma, she could feel it warming her feet. She could feel it warming the underside of her arm, as she whispered, "melt for me," willing her gnosis to melt the contents of her hand. For the water to spill through the spaces between her fingers, and drip into the magma. Causing it to bubble, and send tiny tendrils of smoke into the air. "This is how it always shall be. No one understanding. No one ever winning. An endless war in which no one ever gains any ground, because no one wants to give any over to those they opposed," Cara growled. "Do you ever wonder my dear, if they still remember what happened? The day it all started? Why they fought? Truly? Why they hold a grudge against one another, and can't simply, make peace? Why our queen will stop at nothing to keep Ivak in his cage?" Cara's eyes sparkled as she dropped her hand and took a few steps away from the magic she had created. "Have you ever tried to walk into the heat? Do you know of one of Ivak's men, what it must feel like for them to venture into the cold?" The woman shook her head, considering everything. Wondering why everyone and everything always fought. Why everything went about the way it did. A circle spiraling out of control. Yet, oddly enough, seeking balance. Maintaining a strange sort of balance despite the chaos that reigned free. That was a foolish question. She is obviously too bloody sheltered. She has never left this place, Cara's mind hissed. "When you try it, you will understand just how cruel the world can be. Your innocence will be stripped from your very soul Nan," Cara continued, as her eyes flashed menacingly. "You will come to know that everyone, and everything is still being punished after a time long gone. Known only to those who bother with history. To try and understand it, in the hopes that whatever happened, can never repeat itself." With that, Cara took another step back, and flicked her wrist, willing the last droplets of water, which clung to her flesh away. She still had yet to find something to do about the magma. Hopefully, something could be done before Morwen came along, and chastised her for using the substance of her enemy. She was sick of being chastised. But then again, was conjuring such an entity truly forbidden?