2nd Spring, 512 A.V.
Avanthal was a mess.
Hadrian had weathered the storm in his dwelling with Ethan and, as luck would have it, Tiki. Despite their shelter, things had shattered in his mind, allowing a rush of memories to return: the Zevkan Legacy, his Lykata gnosis, that day of wonder almost two years gone now. He turned the bracelet on his arm, the which Nugget could use to call him back if need be. And now his eyes were an even brighter shade of blue due to the storm, his hair darker now, and shot through with dark blue. He wondered if this effect would be permanent, knew he could deal with it through Morphing or the illusions granted him by Ionu, but it was all so strange.
As he wandered, trying to collect his thoughts, he helped where he could. A crying child was soothed by a whimsical illusion, allowing her parents to focus on the tasks at hand.
By the Palace, workers were attempting to keep the remaining ice from melting, but while they could reave extant ice, they could not create it. He paused, stilled his mind, and sent forth gushing gouts of the palest blue res before him, and it gathered and whorled until there was enough of it to solidify into a block of ice bigger than he was. It took only moments now, so advanced had he become with his reimancy, and the cheers made him smile, for once just an honest, open smile. At first, he had been upset to be granted Water over the Fire he wanted, and each element had come in turn, never the one he wanted. Now only Fire lay beyond his reach, and that would have been the least helpful element here and now.
Perhaps the gods did know what they were doing.
A little wearier, he set off to walk, and think, and help more. But he had eaten a large breakfast, knowing he would have a lot of work to do today and that his body would need that to produce more djed in a quick and efficient manner. As he walked, he let his special sense for auras reach out beyond what he could see and hear and smell with his more mundane senses. He noted each person as he passed, and his hand would brush over this wall, or that fence, and with his new connection to Eyris, he could pick up impressions of things that had gone past them or gone into their creation. It was a strange new level of awareness.
But an iota of purpose was developing within him. He had to return to Zeltiva, but he could not leave until Avanthal was safe. There had been too much time spent here not to invest somewhat.
Now he looked for the next need that he was well suited to fill. |