Completed A Hair of Clyde (Clyde Sullins)

[Amolina]

Sullins had stopped yelling and started smiling instead. But there was something with that smile that made Amolina unsure if it really was an improvement…or not. It made her feel uneasy. Did he after all know more than she was aware of ? In that case, what, she asked herself. But she couldn’t even begin to guess what that smile meant. Was he even smiling …she had done lots of acting training and was used to notice her emotional reactions to other actors expressions. The smile on Sullins face didn’t make her feel like a smile should make you feel. Not at all. When he asked her if he had made himself clear, it sounded like he meant “say yes and concur with every word I say, or else”. So she said yes. Despite it wasn’t true at all that she had deliberatey tried to make the wizard furious, she confessed it in order to oblige. She made one more apology, a very polite and humble apology. Mawkish even. “Please forgive me Mr Sullins” she added. The wizard paid no heed to it. He just smiled his unsettling smile again and continued to speak like it didn’t matter to him what she said. “I must admit that you are much more intelligent than most people I know” she said when he put pressure on her and asked why she was there and who had sent her. She kept her voice very soft, polite and low. Flattery ? Partly, but she realized her previous impression was true. Clyde Sullins was intelligent. He seemed to assume someone else must have sent her, and she had a feeling this spoke volumes about Sullins opinion of her. Feeling annoyed at herself for not daring to try to fool him, she decided to speak. She told him that it was true she had health problems. And she was wondering if they were partly caused by some kind of harmful magic – but when it came to poison she was sure. “I have been poisioned Mr Sullins. And the man that knows which poison it is and can make an antidote for me says he will give it to me, if I can give him something he wants from you.“ She sighed. “He wants a lock of your hair.”

[Clyde Sullins]

Most might have thought Clyde was being paranoid. After all, jumping to the conclusion that someone had sent the woman, to do him ill? It seemed a bit far fetched. But Clyde was still alive due to a healthy dose of paranoia, and so he went with the instinct that she had been sent. Surely in his time here in Ravok, he had managed to annoy at least one or two people. Surely... If not, it could always be a test from the Stryfe. As expected, she said she understood, what else could she say? He all but had a blade to her throat. Or whatever the magical equivalent of that would be... A spear of stone? Un-transmuted res? He shook off the thought, already feeling himself get distracted in that train of theoretical thought. This was NOT a time to be going off on a tangent within his own mind. He took a calming breath, and continued to look at the woman, clearing his mind of the distracting thought. As she spoke again, his smile did not waver, but he shook his head a fraction, as if she had said something silly. As if he could believe what she said, as she praised him for his intelligence! Either she was saying it simply to try to flatter him, and did not really mean it, or she meant it. Either option did not change what he would do, after all he knew his own intelligence. "What is the story, of the small fish in the shallow pond? It was fine in its home, but as soon as it was tossed into the lake, it found itself out of its depth with all the bigger fish. Perhaps you have know found yourself in the lake, were you once swum in the pond with the small fish there. I suppose you could say, you are now in deeper waters than the "fish" you normally swim with." However, Clyde did show some surprise, which he was not quite able to cover, when he found she really HAD been sent by someone, someone really WAS out to get him! A poisoner... But it would show that he had not actually known she had been sent by someone, he had simply assumed it because she had no reason to come after him, or perhaps used it as a bluff. But the fact that he had turned out right, would likely not help Clyde's sense of paranoia. Probably feed its flames. "A... Lock of my hair?" Clyde frowned, looking at the girl. He certainly could not give her some of his hair, if she would in turn give it to someone who wished him ill... That would end very poorly for him. "Well I certainly can't do that, who knows what he might concoct using that, mundanely or arcanely. But who is this poisoner? What is his name? What does he look like? Were does he do his business?" Clyde of course was thinking of the only poisoner he knew, Morley, who he had met recently. Of course, he had no way of knowing she might know him by a different name. But if she described him, and said were he worked, then that would likely be enough for him to ascertain it was the same person he knew.

[Amolina]

Now when Amolina had spilled the beans and lost her chances to buy herself out of the lingering effects of poison and Parnell’s new terrifying threats, she started to feel the full pressure of the trouble she was in. Clyde Sullins little speech about waters, fish and different sizes didn’t make her feel any better. Complex and highbrow-y as his words seemed to be, they still summed everything up pretty well. She was out of her depth and surrounded by sharks. “I can see what you mean. But it’s not like it was my own stupid idea to come here and annoy you. I had no other option to try to save my life. I’ve been poisoned, threthened and forced. This is Ravok, Mr Sullins. I’m afraid there’s no “safe pond” anywhere nearby. There is only the lake and it’s depths and at the end of the day we are all alive only by Rhysol’s grace.” Her heart was beating far too fast and she was in an odd state of heightened awareness, feeling half delirious with the fear that had her in it’s grip now. She had spoken rapidly and intensely, hardly believing she really was saying this stream of words, albeit her voice was still low and compliant. But as soon as she had answered, she remembered that she ought to not enrage the oddly smiling wizard again. Speaking back didn’t seem to be good. Only if she wished an instant death in flames … she wanted to scream things at him, but with an effort she stopped herself from ranting on. Nervous as she was now, she didn’t want to miss a single nuance in Sullins’ expression. She stared at his face like her gaze was glued to it. Had she just for a moment had the impression of something thoughtful, vague and distracted that had come and went in his sky blue eyes, like he was thinking of something totally else? Had something moved over his face when she told him that there was someone that wanted a lock of his hair? She was too upset to be sure, but he seemed to be a bit surprised that someone wanted a lock of his hair. There were perhaps not so many people that asked him for it. But there was nothing wrong with the hair really, she thought, anxiousness making her thoughts somewhat incoherent. It was brown, and looked like someone had tousled it. Downy, a bit like a duckling or so, perhaps very soft and silky. Oh, well. It wasn’t like she would be able to snatch a tuft of hair from a dangerous wizard – seriously, how HAD Parnell been thinking? Why had he sent here there – had he really believed she would be able to get something from Sullins, or was the reason something else? At this point she forced herself to stop her racing thoughts and composed herself enough to try to answer Sullins questions about the poison maker. “I can see how you don’t want to give a complete stranger a lock of your hair Mr Sullins...” It struck her that her own hair was in complete disarray and she must look very bohemian and untrusthworthy in general. She pushed the hair back over her shoulders and made a braid of it while she answered the questions about the poison maker. “A shopkeeper in The Docks. He’s lean and dark haired. Very arrogant and aggressive. And foolish. His name is Parnell, Nolan Parnell.” That was about all she knew,she thought. No, there was one more thing. Now when Sullins had made her tell him all this, Parnell wasn’t not going to give her the antidote, and he might even get really angry and go back to his previous ideas he had hinted at...This was however nothing she told the wizard. But desperation made her offer a few speculations. “Now when I have met you I realize Parnell can hardly have believed I would be able to persuade you to let me 'gather materials from your body '. He must be up to something else …perhaps he sent me on this fools errand because he assumed you would make me speak and get misleading information. The obvious conclusion would be that he plans to use your hair to 'concoct something' . But… isn’t that just a wee bit too obvious? I must admit I’m wondering what he really is planning to do to you Mr Sullins.”

[Clyde Sullins]

Perhaps it would surprise Amolina to see that Clyde was not angered by her response, to her talking back about what he had said. He simply smiled and shrugged, and responded to her in kind. It would quickly become apparent to her that Clyde did not mind arguing, or debating, so long as said argument or debate was not directly insulting him. An odd way perhaps to break things up, but it made a logical sense to Clyde, even if he would be hard pressed to explain it if someone pointed the division out to him. When he did respond, it was in a more neutral tone, not like he was speaking of something life or death. More like he was having a spirited debate with a fellow scholar, and trying to get his own point across, and show his partner the flaws in their own theories. "I never said you chose to come here, though regardless I suppose you are here now. And I would not say you did not choose to anger me. While your destination was set, that of coming here to gain a sample of me, your route was of your own choosing. So while I cannot blame you for being here, and trying to save yourself, I can certainly blame you for the way about which you did it. That was completely upon you. You only say that now, because said attempt to coerce me failed and I caught onto your ruse. Would you be saying the same if you had attempted another route, and it had worked?" He listened as she told him of the man, a shopkeeper in the docks, which was were Morley worked, lean and dark haired, also him... And she had already said it was a poisoner. Ravok was Ravok, but he doubted the profession was that common... Arrogant, aggressive, foolish. Yep, sounded like the man he had met. He had been just as rude as this woman had been. Only the name did not match up. Nolan Parnell. He had given him a different name, something with a M at the start. "I believe that is the man I met so recently, he was just as rude to me as you were. Perhaps a bit more so even. Though he went by a different name... Morlock? Morlay? Morley? Yes, I think it was that last one. Of course, it would not be odd for a man in that line of work to go by an assumed name. Petch, who knows what his name even is." Clyde once more found himself listening, as Amolina spoke, giving up her own proposition, her own take on the situation. To which he once more had to disagree. "Oh, I think what he plans is more or less straightforward. And yes, it does seem a bit obvious, which is why it is probably true. I highly doubt he thought so far ahead as to implant a double bluff in his own schemes. More than likely, he expected you to either succeed, and to sneak in under my awareness to do as he asked... If that had happened, he would have gotten what he wanted. However if you had failed, he doubtlessly thought I would have killed you. If that occurred, he would have only lost something he was planning to kill himself, and could make another more serious attempt to gather what he wanted. I doubt he had any idea such a conversation as this would occur." "Regardless, I doubt his objective was misinformation. After all, if he had not sent you, I would not have even been aware of the fact that he was after me. I knew he was a bit aggravated at me, after the way he acted so reproachfully... But to think he was actually out to plot so deeply against me, to perhaps plan to kill or poison me? Until you had come, I had no such notion." "If anything, this gives me the benefit of surprise, for he does not know I know that he plots against me. But I can still tamper with his own plans. Tell me, what would happen if you brought back something that appeared just like my hair, but was not actually mine? Would he be able to tell?"

[Amolina]

For a moment Amolina had been completely overwhelmed by Clyde Sullins’ logics. He was reasoning like a highly educated scholar, and analyzed and sorted things out neatly, in a clearcut and structured way. “Oh” was all she could say as a first awed reaction when he explained it all to her. She felt relived that he didn’t seem to be angry. It seemed like he was calming down. Or so she hoped. But she would continue to be on her toe tips, while she tried to “melt in” by speaking in the same analytical way he spoke. It was a thoughtful, reasoning, logical style, but it was also like he was thinking aloud to try out ideas. It could have been rather appealing if she had not been worried it was just a temporary calm before next explosion. Parnell had not struck her as particularly straightforward. He was the kind of person that she could imagine to be the opposite of obvious, waiting like a poisonous spider in it’s hiding place, waiting for something or someone to walk into his invisible webs, ready to strike when you least expected it. From behind, likely. But she didn't object to what the wizard had said. Clyde Sullins was the one that used words like “direct” and straightforward”, but to be honest he didn’t really sound so straightforward and naïve at all, when he asked if the poison maker would be able to know if he was given a faked lock of hair. “It would be an advantage for you if he don’t know that you know. Yes. But how could I know if he would be able to tell it’s your hair or not?” She thought a bit. “I guess that if it looks just like your hair he might believe it is your hair. He was after all asking for blood too, and how could he be able to see the difference between your blood and someone elses ? Perhaps he can investigate hair and blood it in his lab to make sure it’s human, but I don’t know anything about what he’s doing in that lab. But I wouldn’t dare to give him dog hair and chicken blood, if that was what you were thinking.” Pause. “And what would it be that could look like your hair but be something else? I think he would be able to know the difference between your dog’s fur and your own hair. He’s not that easy to fool. ” She glanced at the dog. It had been silent for a few chimes, but she didn’t feel comfortable and regretted that she had mentioned it’s fur. So. On a sidetrack, Clyde Sullins was saying that if she had managed to sneak in under his awareness she would have been able to gather” materials” from him. But it had sounded very theoretical and not like something he really found possible in practice. It was unclear what he meant. Nevertheless, he said he blamed her for the way she had gone about this and asked what she would have said if she had tried another approach on him and it had worked. This was actually quite a theoretical question, but still interesting to ponder. She pondered it a bit. “You don’t strike me as a person that wouldn’t notice if someone was trying to sneak closer to you and start to gather things” she said. “I doubt there is a successful way to do it.” She returned to the main question. “But don’t you think the best would be to simply give me a lock of your hair ? That way he would not stand a chance to discover that you know that he’s after you ! ”

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde nodded, understanding what she was saying... She might know, or she might not know, if he would be able to tell the difference. It all depended upon how well she knew the man, the poisoner. From what she said though, it seemed the opposite was true, and she did not know him to well. Which made his choice a bit more difficult. Yes it would be good if he could trick him, but it was a big if. And if he in fact could tell, then it might show his hand, and would certainly show that either Clyde knew, or that Amolina was attempting to play him for a fool. It would obviously be preferable to trick him as such, but it might not be worth the risk. The alternative of course, was to directly come at him, and confront him, perhaps before he had a chance to gather his resources and defenses. For even if he might have expected him to come at him, it certainly would not be so soon that he expected him to do so. So he might also gain the benefit of the surprise, if he came at him right now and confronted him, ended this one way or the other right now. "I suppose that is true, if what you say is true, that you would not know him well enough to know of his capabilities in total... But I certainly was not thinking of using my dogs hair. I don't want my dog being poisoned or killed either by whatever scheme he has for me." He shrugged at her next words, saying she doubted she would have been able to get by him. But her last words made him narrow his eyes at her, at give her a glare once more, making him shake his head before speaking. His next words were not with malice, but more of an exaggerated almost mocking tone. "Really? You really think that would be the best way, to simply give him what he wants, what you came for? That that way would serve all of our purposes best." As he continued on, his words became a bit more neutral, losing the mocking tone as he became more serious. "It would serve you, and the poisoner, but not me. I can understand why you would say that, but really, that was a pretty feeble attempt. Logic only works if it is logical I am afraid, and something that would so clearly negatively affect me, is not a logical outcome for me to choose, now is it?." "No, now that I think on it, I think the best way would be to simply be direct, and come at him now, before he expects any retribution, and before he has time to gather any defenses or make any further plotting. Come, I think we have a question or two to ask our poisoner acquaintance." He took a step towards the front door, before pausing. Running off half ready would not do him any good... And what would happen if he went in, and he had poisons ready? He needed some way to prepare himself, to keep the man honest, and to make sure he would be just as damaged as Clyde should the poisoner attempt anything against him. "No... I think I had better make a few preparations first." Clyde suddenly turned, and headed towards the door behind him, which led into his Magecrafting lab. He took out a key, and unlocked the door, and then opened it wide, standing on the far side of it so that Amolina could walk in, and to make sure she did not try to get anything off of him in the meantime. "Go on in, and sit in the stool over by the lab table. You can wait while I do some work." Clyde would stand there with the door wide open, waiting for Amolina to go in. If she did, he would follow along behind her with Rye, and shut and re-lock the door, and then head over to the desk with the chair were he kept his writing supplies.

[Amolina]

Amolina was still wary and expected the unpredictable Sullins to explode like an enigmatic bomb any chime. She had obediently done like he had told her. Now she sat on the chair and looked around curiously in the lab. Magic things were about to happen, obviously, as the wizard had now armed himself with paper and pens and seemed to be very resolute. It was the first time she saw a magician at work. And, as the situation was, it might also be the last time. She felt at once awed and scared. She had seen how Clyde Sullins kept staying at a safe distance from her, like he thought she would jump him and try to harvest hair, blood and whatever, if she just managed to come close enough. But she wouldn't even dare to think of it. Certainly not. “Deal with me directly” he had told her. Ha! Just look where the enforced “directness” had taken her. Not that the indirect approach had been successful either. Sullins had somehow taken command, despite looking like he was several years her junior and not even able to comb his hair properly. Nothing was going her way, she thought. Everything was a mess and it kept getting worse. All she had wanted was a few miza's to pay the bills. Was that too much to ask of life? “What are you planning to do Mr Sullins” she said. “Are you sure you don’t … “ But she stopped herself there. Clyde Sullins seemed to be impossible to persuade. He believed in direct, straightforward, logical ways to deal with things. Perhaps becasue he was powerful enough to afford to think that way. Or so he thought. Amolina's experience lately was that things that seemed simple could turn out to be endlessly complicated, and what seemed to be easy prey could be a ...shark in disguise. But she wouldn’t want to nag, disturb the mage in his work and make him furious again. She would just wait and see what he was up to. That was all she could do now.

[Clyde Sullins]

As Clyde was setting down, taking out parchment and ink and quill, Amolina asked him another question, however she seemed to have cut herself off halfway through. Perhaps having thought better of it. Clyde smiled, and turned on the spot to look at her as he spoke. Not exactly a happy funny smile, it could perhaps be conveyed as a bit malicious. If nothing else, it was the smile of someone who knew a secret, and knew the other did not know it. "Oh, I am quite sure. And you will see soon enough what I plan. As I said though, I simply plan to do something, to make sure the poisoner keeps honest, and is not tempted to do what poisoners invariably do to something conflicting with them." Rye continued to sit by his side, gazing at Amolina, though he had now stopped growling. He simply sat by his master, next to were he had set down his staff. With that, he turned back to his work, beginning to draw out a simple scrolls Glyphing setting up, on each of the three pieces of parchment. After all, the base principle was simply enough, only the trigger would be tricky. And he was getting exceedingly good at making triggers. As he usually did when he made multiple similar scrolls, he did it in parts, doing the one part on each of the three scrolls, and then going on to the next, and doing that part in turn on each scroll. Doing the bits that were the same all at once, was faster than doing an entire scroll from start to finish three times. The focus in the middle was simple, a circle with a wavy line curving all around it, vaguely depicting the rising sun. As an afterthought, he added a series of slashes emanating outward from it, at each of the tips of the outward swooping curves furthest from the center circle. He did this on each of the three scrolls. Then was the barrier, also simply made, not requiring a excess of complexity. After all, the magic he was sealing in was simple enough, and he would simply be making it issue back out, a straightforward enough task, not making it join or split or do anything fancy. This time he had to think for a chime, before continuing onward. He made the barrier for the scroll a series of words, slowly arcing and curving around the focus in the middle. Block, protect, ensconce, stop, interrupt, all simple enough words. But he also added a few odd ones, which he did not traditionally add, but seemed to fit right now. Enforce, honor, force, bind, and crux. He seemed to be getting ever more inventive in his barriers, and in adding odd things to tie it in to the intent of the purposed Glyphs. He was unsure if this added to its strength or not, but he knew it did not weaken it. Now, though, was the hardest part, the trigger. He had to think for awhile on this, running through his mind all possible reasons for why he would want the Glyphing to release. This took a decent bit of chimes, about 8 to 10 were he did nothing but think. Clearly he needed it to go off if he died... Or if someone tampered with the scroll. That was a facet to a trigger which he had figured out when making his intercept proof scrolls. Or if he spoke a specified trigger phrase in its presence... And... Ooh, if the others went off, he also wanted them all to go off... So bind them all together. He wrote A, B, and C, above each of the three scrolls he had done, calling 1 A, 2 B, and the third C. Thus they each had a identity within which he could constrain the trigger. Then he wrote out the trigger, a triangle cutting into the side of the barrier, cutting through it with its point, the flat side pointing to the right side of the barrier were he would write out the trigger. There, he wrote out the triggers as such, changing only one thing, the letters mentioned on the one condition. That way, each of them would mention the other two scrolls. The 1st scroll, A, read as such: If any of the below mentioned conditions occur, the barrier of this scroll will be lowered, releasing the magic held within - If the creator of these scrolls Glyphing, Clyde Sullins, is killed - If anyone but Clyde Sullins, the creator of these scrolls Glyphing, attempts to tamper with or alter these scrolls, or remove them from a building - If the other two linked scrolls B and C Glyphed at the same time by Clyde Sullins has its trigger activated - If Clyde Sullins, creator of these Glyphed scrolls, speaks the following in the presence of these scrolls, with intent to activate them: Fiery flames flicker and die, burning and burning until you will fry With that done, Clyde took up the three scrolls that were completed, focus, barrier, and unique triggers, and brought them to the pedestal in the middle of the room. At this time he looked back to Amolina, and grinned. "You might want to take a few steps back, this is when the fire happens." After giving her a few ticks to respond, Clyde would hold up both of the palms of his hands in front of him, and begin to exude out a copious amount of glowing bright silver ethereal res.

[Amolina]

Amolina had watched the mage with avid interest and observed everything he did as well as she could. He seemed to write a great deal, shifting back and forth between several papers he was working at in parallel. The expression on his face spoke about focus, utter concentration, precision …it seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. If she had not been ordered to sit at a safe distance away from him she would have done all she could to get to see what exactly he was doing, what he was writing or drawing on these papers. She felt so unbearably curious that she nearly got to her feet and tiptoed closer in an attempt to get the details of what he was doing. But only nearly. She wanted to do it but she didn’t dare…she remembered far too well how angry the wizard had been at her. Then he suddenly stopped and did absolutely nothing for chime after chime after chime. The atmosphere in the lab was very calm and professional and Clyde Sullins looked like he was lost in deep thinking. Amolina’s curiosity and the tension she felt knew no limits now. She watched the wizard with growing impatience. He was clearly not done – so what was he waiting for? Chime after chime passed, in total silence, while the mage did nothing at all. Amolina felt convinced she would soon die of curiosity and impatience. She was on the brink of asking him to speed up, no matter how unwise it would be to meddle in the work process of a wizard.But before she had time to say something, Sullins started to work again, like in sudden inspiration. When he put the scrolls he had made on the pedestal and told her to stay back because he would start a fire she felt a pang of renewed fear, jumped to her feet and did like he said. “Mr Sullins, what are you…” she started anxiously. The mage didn’t answer. He held his hands up in front of him. Amolina was about to witness a scene that would forever change her view on mages and how they should be portrayed in plays. It was possible that this would eventually have a great and innovative impact on the art or acting in Ravok. She was all eyes and observation. The mage stood in the center of his lab, a tall, lean and slightly tanned outdoorsman in practical casual cotton wear, his young face serious and foucsed, his hair looking like it was tousled by an invisible wind. An inscrutable smile played on his mouth. She watced him held hands up in front of him with a precise, accurate movement that reminded her of a highly skilled dancer that didn’t miss a single step in a complex choreography. Then something started to emanate from his hands. She wondered if she really saw this – or was it just her perception and imagination tricking her – but it looked like a mystic, silvery, shimmering stream floating in the air. At this sight she had an impression of the air being filled with an invisible yet palpable power. An unknown power of a kind she couldn’t even guess at seemed to be about to be unleashed. She observed all this. It scared her, it made her feel torn out of reality, it awed her, and it spoke to her actress soul and her love of a good performance. Wasn’t THIS how magic should be portrayed on the stage - not as cunning but essentially harmless tricks by stuttering, mumbling lunatics like it used to be in so many average plays, but as powerful silvery lightning in the hands of someone like Clyde Sullins … The moment was like etched into her memory. She would never forget it. Albeit Sullins too might be a lunatic, despite not looking or sounding like one. How could she know? He had told her this was where the fire would happen, and as her first sense of awe, revelation and wonder started to wear off, fear took over. Was he a madman about to set the lab on fire and blast them out of life in one last big explosion ? If fire and explosion would follow she was likely to lunge forward screaming, and cling to the wizard in a desperate wish to not die alone. If he would do something less dramatic she might just gasp, awed but not panicking.

[Clyde Sullins]

It was a simple task for Clyde to exude his res, unlike a lesser Reimancer. He simply willed it to expand its way out of his body, getting bigger and more numerous, picturing in his mind the material flowing out of him, to form into a large cloud in the air, formed of gaseous res. He had set the scrolls on different spots of the pedestal, and so made ready to do his casting. With a gentle wave of his left hand, almost a lazy motion like shooing a fly, his cloud of res broke apart into three chunks. Each hovered directly over a focus on a scroll, ready to go inside. Of course, in its current state the focus would not be big enough, so with a twisting motion of his hand, he began to refine the res, forming it into a elongated shape. After half a chime, the res was no longer as much of a gaseous cloud, as it was three equal spears of res, as tall as a man, but only about as big round as the small of his wrist. Each end was rounded, with no need to shape it into a sharp form, like he would with earth. Fire's form did not matter. Clyde took a few steps back, and then with a upward raise of his left palm, the outer layer of all three spears of res burst into flames. He was easily able to control it and hold it in place by concentrating on a secondary effect of attraction with the remaining res. Before Amolina would have time to react, he would make another motion, a downward sweeping slash of his hand, as if it was a blade hacking at a piece of meat. The spear's of res began to hurtle downward at each of their focus, only to burst into greater flame for a half tick as he transmuted the rest of it into flame. But he already had it in a downward fast motion, and used one final push to make it move even faster. The hurtled at each of their focus, easily traveling downward as fast as a shot arrow from a bow. There was a flash of light and heat as he transmuted them, but then a sudden darkness as all of them vanished, sealed inside of the scrolls, leaving them in a sudden darkness by comparison, as the lab was only sparsely lit by some torches on the walls. "Done." He said, only now noticing the girls reaction to his magic. He would need to give the air a moment to cool after the heat that had transferred through it, but then he would gather the three scrolls and be ready to go.