OOCI talked with Colombina a bit about Ethaefal and their Fall, actually, a while back, for a quest for Alses that will eventually get done . Strictly speaking, people aren't supposed to definitively know the fissure exists (they can infer its existence, within reason, but not know it as a fact, unless it's shown/explained to them by a god). Actually seeing the fall of a soul, too - even via a divine vision - is a no-no.
“Ethaefal is both pural and singular,” she replied distantly, avoiding the mainstay of the question for another few moments. “As to a physical fall...who knows?” A slight shrug. “We remember our death, by fire and the sword, long ago in a nameless land far from water, and then our next mortal memory is of the desolate foaming sea, and rocks, and sand.” She shook her head, as though to clear it of unwelcome thoughts.
“I do not think the...the fall is truly physical, otherwise we would be seen by some enterprising astronomer, falling from the sky, but that is guesswork at best. We'll find out the truth of it eventually, though – I shall see to it.” A heavy, leaden pause, before she began to speak again. “Regardless, the experience is a fall, make no mistake, from a glorious celestial state in close communion with the divine to this half-ruined existence, not even a gnosis-mark link to sustain us in the chaos and pain of this world. Enough, Lu.” Her voice was quiet and tired, betraying the strain, but firm nonetheless. “No more questions about my kind, please, not now.”
To distract herself more than to track Lu's progress, she turned her attention resolutely to his second glyph. The lines were still liquidly-gleaming, however, the djed pathways they traced unsure and in continual flux as the ink seeped into the paper, sealing in permanency – inasmuch as anything was truly permanent, anyway. True-blue light flared again, the sudden jolt of accelerated subjective time snapping the djed-nous of Lu's new focus into solidity and prominence even as her eyes tracked along the arcing, more organic curves that had evolved from his refined conception.
It could still do with further adjustment, however: there was still that niggling sense of scuttling, scurrying things with too many legs, and there were points of feathering that hadn't existed in the first glyph – probably where his pen had paused and shifted minutely, uncertain whether to follow the physical memory of his focus glyph or the new, refined idea. Easy enough to rectify, with the method of choice being repetition: the boring, hand-cramping legwork that underpinned the discipline. Boring, perhaps, but essential – only those with their feet firmly on the bedrock (ie a solid theoretical and practical base) could build castles in the air.
Time passed – at least a bell, since their relatively peaceful, quiet lesson was disrupted by the consensus crescendo on the eleventh bell of the morning – with Alses and Lu settling into a sort of easy exchange: him drawing more and more refined, practiced focus glyphs and she commenting on each one, pointing out the flaws, how to alter and improve until every line, and the conduit it represented, suckled greedily at the djed of the world and their synergy made the whole greater than the mere sum of its parts. The speed was still glacial, but speed was secondary to function, and would come as a side-effect of practice in any case.
After the latest attempt – which was quite passable, if a little unstable to her eyes – she brought an end to the cycle of practice. “That'll do, for now,” she announced. The time had been useful in other ways, not just in making Lu better at his glyphery; she'd been able to recover her equipoise from his question earlier, for one. Not that she particularly begrudged him his curiosity – had he not proved himself trustworthy and reliable in a crisis, which surely entitled him to some consideration? It was just that the reminder was always painful, no matter who brought it up.
“Work the kinks out, by all means,” she added, nodding to Lu's drawing hand, still clasping the quill, even as she drew out a scroll from beside her, unfurling it on the desk in front of Lu's work.
“This is a scroll,” Alses began “As you can see. It's a common practical use of Glyphing, storing magic for later use – and not just by the wizard who made it. There are several different types of glyphs that go into making one of these-” her finger moved over the intricate focus glyph to point at the pearl-like barrier runes which ringed the focus, and then over to the complicated trigger sigil with its twists and turns and purposefully-antithetical intersections, all held in precarious balance by the blocks enforced by the trigger word in the centre, “-which we'll go over with you later. For now, though, we'll be using this scroll so you can see what you're doing to the djed of the world, rather than just taking my word for it.” She paused for a heartbeat or two, and then continued, giving him time to digest what she'd said.
“I think we mentioned I have some small skill in auristics, no? Following the changes in the auras of your glyphs is how I know what's working and what isn't. This scroll-” she tapped it for emphasis “-will let you...borrow, for want of a better term...and use the power we stored in it. There's a fair amount in there; we should have plenty of time for what I have in mind. It might be a little...disorienting, at first,” she warned, with massive understatement “But we think it'll be an excellent lesson for you. Take it,” she urged, pressing it into his hands even as she turned the pages of his book back to the very first glyph he'd drawn. “Take it, hold it in front of yourself with the focus pointing at you, and say this word-” Alses held up a scrap of paper with the word 'Yomi-canoch' neatly inscribed. “-when you're ready and not before. Then look at your notebook.”
When Lu spoke the trigger word, there would be an instant reaction from her scroll – the blocks in the trigger glyph would erase themselves and that whole rune would totter towards catastrophic collapse, flinging antithetical djed across the paper which would resonate with secondary glyphs inside her barrier, setting off a second wave of corrupting djed that would wipe the barriers from the face of the scroll and allow the focus glyph to discharge its magic, straight into Lu Gavima's waiting brain.
The world would paint itself in a rainbowed panoply of light and sound and taste and touch for him, a richly-changing tapestry of the senses flooding in from all directions, the power and skill of an expert aurist suddenly at his beck and call, with which he could examine the fiery contrails of djed his glyphs forged in the hidden world and see just where the mistakes were.
If he could withstand the flood of impressions, of course. Alses, having developed the abilities in her scroll naturally and over time, had no real conception of how, all together and piling in from three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, they would affect someone unused to seeing more than the mundane world.
“Ethaefal is both pural and singular,” she replied distantly, avoiding the mainstay of the question for another few moments. “As to a physical fall...who knows?” A slight shrug. “We remember our death, by fire and the sword, long ago in a nameless land far from water, and then our next mortal memory is of the desolate foaming sea, and rocks, and sand.” She shook her head, as though to clear it of unwelcome thoughts.
“I do not think the...the fall is truly physical, otherwise we would be seen by some enterprising astronomer, falling from the sky, but that is guesswork at best. We'll find out the truth of it eventually, though – I shall see to it.” A heavy, leaden pause, before she began to speak again. “Regardless, the experience is a fall, make no mistake, from a glorious celestial state in close communion with the divine to this half-ruined existence, not even a gnosis-mark link to sustain us in the chaos and pain of this world. Enough, Lu.” Her voice was quiet and tired, betraying the strain, but firm nonetheless. “No more questions about my kind, please, not now.”
To distract herself more than to track Lu's progress, she turned her attention resolutely to his second glyph. The lines were still liquidly-gleaming, however, the djed pathways they traced unsure and in continual flux as the ink seeped into the paper, sealing in permanency – inasmuch as anything was truly permanent, anyway. True-blue light flared again, the sudden jolt of accelerated subjective time snapping the djed-nous of Lu's new focus into solidity and prominence even as her eyes tracked along the arcing, more organic curves that had evolved from his refined conception.
It could still do with further adjustment, however: there was still that niggling sense of scuttling, scurrying things with too many legs, and there were points of feathering that hadn't existed in the first glyph – probably where his pen had paused and shifted minutely, uncertain whether to follow the physical memory of his focus glyph or the new, refined idea. Easy enough to rectify, with the method of choice being repetition: the boring, hand-cramping legwork that underpinned the discipline. Boring, perhaps, but essential – only those with their feet firmly on the bedrock (ie a solid theoretical and practical base) could build castles in the air.
Time passed – at least a bell, since their relatively peaceful, quiet lesson was disrupted by the consensus crescendo on the eleventh bell of the morning – with Alses and Lu settling into a sort of easy exchange: him drawing more and more refined, practiced focus glyphs and she commenting on each one, pointing out the flaws, how to alter and improve until every line, and the conduit it represented, suckled greedily at the djed of the world and their synergy made the whole greater than the mere sum of its parts. The speed was still glacial, but speed was secondary to function, and would come as a side-effect of practice in any case.
After the latest attempt – which was quite passable, if a little unstable to her eyes – she brought an end to the cycle of practice. “That'll do, for now,” she announced. The time had been useful in other ways, not just in making Lu better at his glyphery; she'd been able to recover her equipoise from his question earlier, for one. Not that she particularly begrudged him his curiosity – had he not proved himself trustworthy and reliable in a crisis, which surely entitled him to some consideration? It was just that the reminder was always painful, no matter who brought it up.
“Work the kinks out, by all means,” she added, nodding to Lu's drawing hand, still clasping the quill, even as she drew out a scroll from beside her, unfurling it on the desk in front of Lu's work.
“This is a scroll,” Alses began “As you can see. It's a common practical use of Glyphing, storing magic for later use – and not just by the wizard who made it. There are several different types of glyphs that go into making one of these-” her finger moved over the intricate focus glyph to point at the pearl-like barrier runes which ringed the focus, and then over to the complicated trigger sigil with its twists and turns and purposefully-antithetical intersections, all held in precarious balance by the blocks enforced by the trigger word in the centre, “-which we'll go over with you later. For now, though, we'll be using this scroll so you can see what you're doing to the djed of the world, rather than just taking my word for it.” She paused for a heartbeat or two, and then continued, giving him time to digest what she'd said.
“I think we mentioned I have some small skill in auristics, no? Following the changes in the auras of your glyphs is how I know what's working and what isn't. This scroll-” she tapped it for emphasis “-will let you...borrow, for want of a better term...and use the power we stored in it. There's a fair amount in there; we should have plenty of time for what I have in mind. It might be a little...disorienting, at first,” she warned, with massive understatement “But we think it'll be an excellent lesson for you. Take it,” she urged, pressing it into his hands even as she turned the pages of his book back to the very first glyph he'd drawn. “Take it, hold it in front of yourself with the focus pointing at you, and say this word-” Alses held up a scrap of paper with the word 'Yomi-canoch' neatly inscribed. “-when you're ready and not before. Then look at your notebook.”
When Lu spoke the trigger word, there would be an instant reaction from her scroll – the blocks in the trigger glyph would erase themselves and that whole rune would totter towards catastrophic collapse, flinging antithetical djed across the paper which would resonate with secondary glyphs inside her barrier, setting off a second wave of corrupting djed that would wipe the barriers from the face of the scroll and allow the focus glyph to discharge its magic, straight into Lu Gavima's waiting brain.
The world would paint itself in a rainbowed panoply of light and sound and taste and touch for him, a richly-changing tapestry of the senses flooding in from all directions, the power and skill of an expert aurist suddenly at his beck and call, with which he could examine the fiery contrails of djed his glyphs forged in the hidden world and see just where the mistakes were.
If he could withstand the flood of impressions, of course. Alses, having developed the abilities in her scroll naturally and over time, had no real conception of how, all together and piling in from three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, they would affect someone unused to seeing more than the mundane world.