50th of Winter, 518AV
For the first time in nearly the whole season, Syna was gracing the Inarta with her presence, and not one red haired soul wanted to stay in doors that day. Even Lani found herself outside in the market place with the rest of the city. Many an Inarta had come to purchase shiny new trinkets for their personal dwellings, and so the crowd of the market place moved with constant charisma, swishing and swaying this way and that as the city seemed to settle in a lazy dance with itself. There was a mounting excitement for a strange relief in weather waiting just under the volcano’s surface. Lani moved with the crowd, watching the things that she wanted but did not need tempt her, but really trying to listen to the Nari conversations to see if she understood them better and to feel Syna’s grace kiss her cheeks and forearms in a welcoming climate that they had been deprived of all winter.
The relative chill of the season was nothing compared to what it should have been and so she had a scarf wrapped around her neck and chest to keep her torso warm but otherwise had no sleeves, wearing the typical Vinati and Bryda of the Inarta. Her black beaded Bryda brushed her legs as she walked and the mixed blood found she had a bit of a swing to her step. Although her black hair and eyes, and her cringe-worthy grasp on the language would never allow it, she felt as if she was one of the Inarta in these clothes, talon sword attached to her hip. The sun felt good on her Eypharian gilded skin, and like the rest of the city population, Lani had come to market day to enjoy the weather more so than to actually buy anything. No matter how much she felt as if she belonged, she was still a dark figure among the lighter Inartan crowd.
The foreigner’s illusion of belonging was shattered when she passed a metal smith that had placed polished mirrors out to entice his customers into purchasing one. The smooth metal reflected the crowd back to themselves, and Lani saw how very drastically her dark figure stood out among the brighter Inarta. She wore their clothes and weapons, but her colors were all wrong, and she could not hide that. Perhaps it would have been smart to wear a brighter colored Vinati, but she could do nothing about her hair. Or could she?
The mixed blood’s senses tickled in her stomach where she imagined her pool of djed lay. Only it had been a long time since she bothered to access it, and the soft liquid magic had hardened into a thick pliable clay. She felt as though it was still within her grasp to work with it, but it would be much more difficult. Lani realized she had frozen in the crowd, and was staring at herself fin the mirror, and so she stepped out of the main path and closer to the mirrors, watching her glossy hair flow with the movement. It was her immediate give-away, would she have the power to change it? Lani focused on her reflection and on her djed, poking and prodding the magic with her senses until she felt it give in some sort of way.
Like a lumbering beast, her djed grumbled and woke, making her feel slightly ill as she realized she was not used to utilizing her magic anymore, the paths that she had taught the djed to go for different magics were still clear to her, but it was waking the beast that was difficult. Lani steadied herself on the counter of the vendor and fought with the djed, forcing it to give to her will and not return to its dormant state. She willed the fluency of the magic up through her abdomen and into her esophagus. She felt the djed want towards her fingers and eyes, the pathways to personal magics that she knew better, but she blocked those entrances. Hair. Go to my roots. She thought towards the magic within her, scrunching her brows with the effort.