Uzima watched him intently, head angled, her red eyes on him. The bird was strung like a tight wire, lacking any bit of fat, but she was remarkably calm. She didn't fluff up or preen like some pet birds did, but the Drykas might well have realized that despite the way Raiha stroked the goshawk, she was not a pet - the Akontak truly regarded the bird as a partner, just like he and Backlash. They created something through their synergy that went beyond what either of them was by themselves. When his hand finally fell, the bird's attention went back to Raiha, who had kept her arm remarkably still, calm and quiet in her own way, and like the horses, the bird picked up on that. But Raiha was proud of her - Uzima was normally nippy, not being prone to letting just anyone stroke her feathers... but Vanator had escaped unscathed. Perhaps he passed some test the bird had been giving him.
She nodded when he mentioned he knew someone that had read auras, and she grinned at him when he hastened to assure her that he didn't think she was weird. "If you spent enough time with me, I am sure you might change your mind in that regard," she admitted a bit ruefully. Between her and Kanikra... the two of them made for a proper headcase. It was hard enough to keep track of one when you knew that two were there, especially when Kanikra was in the mood to stir up something, or frustrate and harass her sister-soul. But for now, she seemed content to let Raiha talk with Vanator, studying the Drykas, still pondering about the Webbing. That was an unfortunate development. Finding a teacher for such a thing would prove difficult, but Kanikra was working it out. Where there was a will, there was a way.
Raiha was glad that he understood what she was talking about - Djed, Auristics. She had tried to put it in the easiest way for him to understand without treating him like a child, especially considering he was surely older than her. She owed him more respect than that, after all, and she was glad that her meaning came through. "Dealing with Ghosts and the Undead is its own magic. Oh, you can see the trails that ghosts leave with their Soulmist, and follow those with Auristics, but interacting with them is a world magic called Spiritism," she explained. She remembered it from her studies. "It is something I must learn. They have much to teach us when they find a willing pupil." She did not see a need to elaborate on why she needed to learn it - perhaps it was a fascination with magic on her behalf, maybe it was a need to be able to defend Sanctuary against them. One guess was as good as the other, truly told.
Her eyes searched his face when he asked her about his aura. She smiled faintly and shook her head, making the wisps of white, flyaway hair move, catching the wind that pulled at them. "Surprisingly, I have not. As I said... I believe in using magic responsibly. I believe more so in privacy," despite the faint smile, she was very, very serious. Either she was being honest, or she was very good at playing at it, but nothing she had said or done since he had met her had indicated the solemn Akontak as someone who toyed with others for fun. "My mother was very adept at seeing beyond what people said and how they truly felt, because that was her gift of sight granted to her by Avalis. But I am not. I observe. Always on the outside looking in," she looked off at the waves before looking at him once more. "As I said, I am only a novice - I have glanced, as when you use Auristics, you cannot pick and choose what auras you perceive. But to truly see, I must focus, truly focus, on your Aura. I would not without your permission. But if you are sure, I will look."
The bird glanced up at her words, and then turned her head to stare at Vanator as Raiha focused on the man's Aura, diving into it as easily as she could the water. Her expression hardly changed, but where her gaze had been far off at times, it was generally focused on him. Now, though, that she was examining his aura, sorting out the different colours, the threads that surrounded around him, following each in the complicated weave once you went below the surface, her eyes were looking through him, as if the blue-skinned female stared at his very soul. She was silent, then, as moments turned to chimes. The waves pounded the shore, but still, Raiha said nothing as she studied his aura, picking at what she knew she could decipher first. "You are 35 years of age," she began, her voice quiet, but confident. "You are healthy. No fevers, aches, or remaining pains from past injuries. There is residual tension in your neck, shoulders and hands. The beginnings of a stress headache, also faded, but there with the likelihood of strengthening," her voice sounded so far away to her own ears, but she didn't even think about it as she looked deeper.
She was quiet again, silent, unmoving, her golden eyes intense, focused, concentrating hard. "Web-walker. You are tied to the Web and to Backlash, and both of you to the web." She knew it sounded disjointed, but this was, for her, a play-by-play commentary. The next parts of his aura, the threads in the tapestry, as she liked to think of them, were even more complex and difficult. Emotions. Everyone had feelings, for the most part, but it was harder to pinpoint them. She could feel the different colours as she picked them apart, turning them over in her mind's eye. "Anger. Hurt. Pain. Rage," she picked out the ones that were the easiest for her to recognize, the strongest ones, even if they had faded somewhat since he had initially felt them. They were still there. "Confusion. Frustration." She breathed again, ignoring the pounding between her temples. "Sadness. Loneliness. Curiosity." Raiha paused, her face contorting slightly as she sniffed the air, much like a dog would taste the breeze. "Blood." She pronounced finally. "So much blood. I can smell it. I can taste it." She was neither surprised nor judgmental. Life was hard out here, away from the safe, quiet shores of Konti Isle. The Sea of Grass was a harsh mistress and a deadly environment that took as much as she wanted.
"You are running. You are always running," she heard the footfalls, the hoofbeats, felt them on the grass beneath her feet. "Always running..." she repeated as she felt along the thread, trying to figure out why. What did he run from? It would not show her - it slipped stubbornly through her fingers again and again, like water through a sieve, and she had no choice but to let it go, searching for the next filament. It would yield her nothing - these more complex aspects were well beyond her grasp. The goshawk's head whipped around, then, as she hissed, and raked her beak along Raiha's exposed arm. A red welt rose on her exposed blue skin. It made her lose her focus, this rush of pain, and it was just as well. Mages, especially novices, never knew when to stop. She blinked then, for the first time of what seemed like ages, and closed her eyes, breathing in and out before relaxing, losing some of the stiffness that had seized her, even as she mentally tapped her mark from Rak'keli, the welt fading and settling down before his eyes.
When her eyes opened a few moments later, she was steady on her pins again. "Make your stand," her voice was steady but quiet, the way it had been when she had spoken earlier in what had almost amounted to tongues as she had tried to impart on him advice and guidance as she saw it. "You must confront what haunts you. You must face it, or you will suffer more than you already do. Seek closure. Make your stand, Vanator of the Denusk Pavilion, because you will soon run out of ground to run on, and you will drown."
She nodded when he mentioned he knew someone that had read auras, and she grinned at him when he hastened to assure her that he didn't think she was weird. "If you spent enough time with me, I am sure you might change your mind in that regard," she admitted a bit ruefully. Between her and Kanikra... the two of them made for a proper headcase. It was hard enough to keep track of one when you knew that two were there, especially when Kanikra was in the mood to stir up something, or frustrate and harass her sister-soul. But for now, she seemed content to let Raiha talk with Vanator, studying the Drykas, still pondering about the Webbing. That was an unfortunate development. Finding a teacher for such a thing would prove difficult, but Kanikra was working it out. Where there was a will, there was a way.
Raiha was glad that he understood what she was talking about - Djed, Auristics. She had tried to put it in the easiest way for him to understand without treating him like a child, especially considering he was surely older than her. She owed him more respect than that, after all, and she was glad that her meaning came through. "Dealing with Ghosts and the Undead is its own magic. Oh, you can see the trails that ghosts leave with their Soulmist, and follow those with Auristics, but interacting with them is a world magic called Spiritism," she explained. She remembered it from her studies. "It is something I must learn. They have much to teach us when they find a willing pupil." She did not see a need to elaborate on why she needed to learn it - perhaps it was a fascination with magic on her behalf, maybe it was a need to be able to defend Sanctuary against them. One guess was as good as the other, truly told.
Her eyes searched his face when he asked her about his aura. She smiled faintly and shook her head, making the wisps of white, flyaway hair move, catching the wind that pulled at them. "Surprisingly, I have not. As I said... I believe in using magic responsibly. I believe more so in privacy," despite the faint smile, she was very, very serious. Either she was being honest, or she was very good at playing at it, but nothing she had said or done since he had met her had indicated the solemn Akontak as someone who toyed with others for fun. "My mother was very adept at seeing beyond what people said and how they truly felt, because that was her gift of sight granted to her by Avalis. But I am not. I observe. Always on the outside looking in," she looked off at the waves before looking at him once more. "As I said, I am only a novice - I have glanced, as when you use Auristics, you cannot pick and choose what auras you perceive. But to truly see, I must focus, truly focus, on your Aura. I would not without your permission. But if you are sure, I will look."
The bird glanced up at her words, and then turned her head to stare at Vanator as Raiha focused on the man's Aura, diving into it as easily as she could the water. Her expression hardly changed, but where her gaze had been far off at times, it was generally focused on him. Now, though, that she was examining his aura, sorting out the different colours, the threads that surrounded around him, following each in the complicated weave once you went below the surface, her eyes were looking through him, as if the blue-skinned female stared at his very soul. She was silent, then, as moments turned to chimes. The waves pounded the shore, but still, Raiha said nothing as she studied his aura, picking at what she knew she could decipher first. "You are 35 years of age," she began, her voice quiet, but confident. "You are healthy. No fevers, aches, or remaining pains from past injuries. There is residual tension in your neck, shoulders and hands. The beginnings of a stress headache, also faded, but there with the likelihood of strengthening," her voice sounded so far away to her own ears, but she didn't even think about it as she looked deeper.
She was quiet again, silent, unmoving, her golden eyes intense, focused, concentrating hard. "Web-walker. You are tied to the Web and to Backlash, and both of you to the web." She knew it sounded disjointed, but this was, for her, a play-by-play commentary. The next parts of his aura, the threads in the tapestry, as she liked to think of them, were even more complex and difficult. Emotions. Everyone had feelings, for the most part, but it was harder to pinpoint them. She could feel the different colours as she picked them apart, turning them over in her mind's eye. "Anger. Hurt. Pain. Rage," she picked out the ones that were the easiest for her to recognize, the strongest ones, even if they had faded somewhat since he had initially felt them. They were still there. "Confusion. Frustration." She breathed again, ignoring the pounding between her temples. "Sadness. Loneliness. Curiosity." Raiha paused, her face contorting slightly as she sniffed the air, much like a dog would taste the breeze. "Blood." She pronounced finally. "So much blood. I can smell it. I can taste it." She was neither surprised nor judgmental. Life was hard out here, away from the safe, quiet shores of Konti Isle. The Sea of Grass was a harsh mistress and a deadly environment that took as much as she wanted.
"You are running. You are always running," she heard the footfalls, the hoofbeats, felt them on the grass beneath her feet. "Always running..." she repeated as she felt along the thread, trying to figure out why. What did he run from? It would not show her - it slipped stubbornly through her fingers again and again, like water through a sieve, and she had no choice but to let it go, searching for the next filament. It would yield her nothing - these more complex aspects were well beyond her grasp. The goshawk's head whipped around, then, as she hissed, and raked her beak along Raiha's exposed arm. A red welt rose on her exposed blue skin. It made her lose her focus, this rush of pain, and it was just as well. Mages, especially novices, never knew when to stop. She blinked then, for the first time of what seemed like ages, and closed her eyes, breathing in and out before relaxing, losing some of the stiffness that had seized her, even as she mentally tapped her mark from Rak'keli, the welt fading and settling down before his eyes.
When her eyes opened a few moments later, she was steady on her pins again. "Make your stand," her voice was steady but quiet, the way it had been when she had spoken earlier in what had almost amounted to tongues as she had tried to impart on him advice and guidance as she saw it. "You must confront what haunts you. You must face it, or you will suffer more than you already do. Seek closure. Make your stand, Vanator of the Denusk Pavilion, because you will soon run out of ground to run on, and you will drown."
