Closed Learning and Yearning [Thomas]

[Celeste Arumen]

A simple question, eh? Her city of birth was no secret. The young girl flashed him a waxen smile, terrible homesickness unfurling in her chest. ”Alvadas, City of Illusions,” she replied. ”I can’t say that it was the best of places, but it was my home. Still, home is where you make it.” Trying to feign nonchalance, she gave a shrug. ”Here, I have purpose.” The last was said with sincerity, feeling. Celeste had enough conviction to believe it was true.

”And what of your reasons for being here?” Now she was genuinely interested. Was he possessed by delusions of grandeur? Or was he a lost soul, like her? The latter would likely remain to be seen, even if it were true. But perhaps in getting know a fellow pulser, she might find a little more comfort within the Citadel’s great and gloomy halls. ”Every pulser distinguishes themselves simply be remaining alive. Yours is a feat greater than mine.”

”After all,” she added. ”You’ve been here longer.” Her smile was earnest. Perhaps not too warm, but it was not overly wary, either. She was not going to spoil an opportunity to learn Nader-canoch or gods willing, to make a new friend. But he seemed rather intent for simply listened. Something made Celeste think he was up to something. But it wasn’t as if she could guess what.

Maybe her voice gave him a headache. Now there was a funny thought.

Sorry!Short post is short!

[Thomas Cosa]

Bittersweet teased his sense at the mention of a home long gone, the shimmering purples of her aura doused, becoming muddled and murky. Thomas frowned, confused, not entirely sure what he was was sensing, exactly. He knew it was something negative, saddness perhaps, considering the muddled aura. Thomas paused, considering the lingering bittersweet taste, reminding the mage of wine, or...

"Or lemon cakes," Thomas realized, a soft smile breaking the concentration of his face. Forgotten memories of long past summers tickled at his consciousness, moments of brief happiness spent with his mother in their apartment kitchen, the heavy smells of baking sugar and flour mixing pleasingly with the light, airy smell of lemon juice. The cakes had been a specialty of his mother's, surprisingly sweet with a bitter aftertaste, always leaving the youth wanting more.

Longing perhaps? He missed those lemon cakes, but more so the memories associated with them - times long before depression had claimed his mother for it's own. Maybe even nostalgia? He had barely anytime to consider, to delve deeper into Celeste's aura before she asked a question, the brightness and clarity quickly coming back to her.

"For being in Sahova?" he echoed, the sounds vibrating off the wooden table, dissolving and mixing into the dense, ancient air. "To learn, to better my craft," Thomas answered, voice soft and uninterested, still digging deeper into the girl's aura; a slight golden tinge began to rise over her cranium, a halo's ring slowly bleeding the brightest of yellows to the edges of her aura. It was only another part of her aura he couldn't hope to understand, not yet anyway. Although, should be prove capable of holding the magic, he stood to gain much from this interaction.

"Considering what I practice, though...," he paused, seemingly caught in mid-thought, but really only distracted again by the girl's aura. It never stilled, always changing -- shapes, and sizes, waving and twisting around the youth's body. Perhaps something to do with her magic? Thomas had never seen another aura move in such a wave -- or perhaps it was a comment on her own personality? Was she sporadic? Confused, maybe?

"Animation is best known for Sahova," he said, blinking, "Or, uh, Sahova is best known for animation, I mean. It made sense for me to come here," he corrected himself, satisfied with his answer, simple and not overtly telling.

"But next question. What magics do you practice?" Thomas asked, focusing more intently on the girl's aura, hoping to catch the truth.

[Celeste Arumen]

He continued to seem abstracted, as if his focus was elsewhere, which struck her as rude considering he has been the one to suggest the game in the first place. Not that it was much of a game. She looked at him with thinly veiled suspicion. Clearly, he was testing her, but for what? Honesty? What did she possibly have to gain through lying? She already knew Kromby and Filch were in the Guild of Masters. All it would take was his asking after her.

”Morphing,” she replied curtly, holding up her ring as if it were obvious. She would have to find a way to turn this game to her favor. ”Tell me, what exactly is it that you’re doing right now? Since I don’t seem to be holding your interest. Is there something else on your mind?” Celeste turned back to the book in front of her. It didn’t make sense and neither did he; he was just toying with her, just like the rest of the Citadel.

Trying to maintain some semblance of composure, she took a deep breath. He could be practicing some magical discipline, trying to see something. It looked as if he were analyzing her, but almost as if he were looking just beyond, to something else… She blinked. Her aura. Thomas was using auristics. Kit wore the same expression when she practiced, too. Neither of them had been very good at it, after all. Celeste softly shut the book in front of her and turned to him. Regardless of whether or not he revealed himself, she’d had enough.

”Is it telling you anything?” She asked politely. ”My aura, that is. You’ll find I have no interest in dishonesty, if that is your concern. I’d rather not make an enemy where I might’ve had a friend.” It felt as if she’d given some ground, almost as an olive branch of sorts. Pretending in Sahova was harder than it’d ever been in Alvadas. People expected you to live as the illusion and not just some of the time. Regardless of what you were within, you had to seem conniving, distant and cold.

”You were concentrating too hard to maintain focus.” She feigned a wounded expression. ”It hurt my feelings.” He would be able to tell she was teasing him.

[Thomas Cosa]

The sweet tart of not-really-there lemon cake dissolved, his tongue and soul drying from the wanting; his own mood, he noticed, had soured -- if only a bit. Thomas supposed this was to be expected, and had he'd been the least bit aware of his lack of ability, perhaps a bit worried about the consequences of his casting.

"No," he assured himself, taking in the quickly sharpening mageling's aura, the shape becoming more dense with each passing second. Surely, should he just watch and not push deep he could keep this up for a bells, Hai, bells even? The waving colors cleared, becoming lighter and lighter -- suspicion, a slight tinge of worry as well -- not that the animator would pick up on these things; caught up in his own thoughts had significantly lessened his own watch on the girl's aura.

Her guess, or knowing rather, pulled him completely back into the conversation.

"Not particularly, no," he answered shortly, blinking, breaking off his magic. He felt the Djed inside still, and cool, his heightened world dull and boring once again. "I hadn't been expected dishonesty," he lied, offering a smile; he had been in Sahova far too long to trust words alone, or even the common ground of having a pulse. He had been too trusting, too easily fooled by Miro before, and that had almost killed him.

Thomas would not be so trusting with Celeste, but he could pretend to be, he thought. He could play this game as well as she, if not better.

"I'm dreadfully sorry," he teased back, "I must admit I'm not terribly good at auristics yet," Thomas admitted, offering her a truth she already knew -- he hoped it would show off as an attempt at comradery, but it was more likely she would see it for what it was, a veiled attempt to collect himself. "Any chance to practice," he forced a laugh, the noise too loud and too awkward to be natural.

"Shyke, that was horrible," he cursed himself mentally before continuing, "But was I really that obvious?" Thomas asked, genuinely wondering, "Or do you also use Auristics?" He wondered aloud, considering the girl before him in a new light -- exactly how much magic did she know?

[Celeste Arumen]

’Bullshit,’ she thought somewhat irritably. Of course he did – why else would he be using auristics on her in the first place? Thomas offered her a somewhat apologetic smile and she smiled back. The only explanation was that he was sizing her up as an enemy, perhaps seeing what she was capable of. But why? Was it the simple fact that she was human and an apprentice that put him automatically on the defense?

The next part was dreadful, on his end. He didn’t seem to know what to do. She’d been there countless times before. Her expression was thoughtful, neutral even as she considered what to say. If she were to continue pointing out his blatant subterfuge, she could potentially keep him off balance. Likewise, she could potentially offend him that way, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Then, there was the option of placating him by just playing along. Perhaps she’d wear a knowing expression without directly addressing it… But wouldn’t that just make her seem smug? Arrogance, while appreciated in certain circles, wouldn’t do any good here. Celeste knew just how easily crippled pride could be. She didn’t want to see what would happen after.

It was better to just be honest, she decided finally. She’d mercifully step over whatever snags they encountered and just be who she was, for better or worse. It was the best tactic, all in all. That way, if she made a mistake, it would at the very least be unintentional. Better that than a calculated move gone wrong. Plus, it seemed he at least had the good grace to seem contrite.

That, or he was far better at lying than she was.

”Only to me.” She smiled. ”My best friend taught my the craft long ago and she’d often have the same expression.” Best not to reveal more than that. It was good to be open, but bad to be trusting. The two of them were walking a very fine line. Further, it showed her that the man commanded two passive magics. Who knew what other talents he might hold?

”You’re still a sight better than I am,” she continued deprecatingly. ”When I try it, I look like I’ve suddenly smelled something rotten, or so I’ve been told.” She giggled to herself in bittersweet remembrance of Kit.

”If you feel more comfortable reading my aura while we speak, go ahead.” She almost seemed tired, in saying this. She’d tried to keep the emotion from her voice, but it was hard not to; the only person she’d even remotely gotten to know was Vick and well… That had been a harrowing experience at best. Celeste just wanted someone, anyone other than the other initiates to talk to.

[Thomas Cosa]

Flattery. It was simple, easy, and concerning Thomas, always effective. Of course he was better, of course he was smarter and more talented -- he already knew all of that, so why shouldn't others recognize it? Even where he could be considered weaker, like personal magics, Thomas still expected his own ability, his skill, to more than make up for his lack of experience; it may have not been given as such, but even hinting that Thomas had better sight than her own, the animator took that gladly as a compliment.

But even with the imagined compliment, and ego boost, Thomas couldn't ignore the girl's age, and her admittance to practicing two personal magics. He supposed, with Riyanna as her master, morphing was what had placed her on the isle and she was what, 12, 13? Mages in general weren't known for their sanity, and among mages, personal magic users were viewed with even more suspicion.

And Celeste? She was barely passing into adolescents, and probably had developed more skill with magic than most adults could claim -- many of them already lost to their magic, and it was a wonder Celeste had managed to keep her sanity, or at least, seemed to be.

"I can't have been too long since you first learned," Thomas smiled, wondering briefly what insanity would color itself in her aura. Would he even be able to detect something like that at his level?

"Maybe we can both observe each other? For practice, if anything," he said, thinking if they were both on equal footing, so to speak, the girl would become more open with her answers.

[Celeste Arumen]

”I was nine,” she replied almost instantly, her thoughts suddenly drawn back in time. As she said so, she looked older for a moment. ”It has been four years at least.” She looked up at Thomas and smiled, though it did not touch her eyes. Nostalgia, longing and a smattering of grief flickered throughout her aura.

”I’d like that, sure.” It was always good to practice. And further, in the process, she might learn a few things about Thomas. With some focus, she managed to delve into the sight, keeping her eyes just off to the side of his actual aura. From what she could see in the periphery, he was curious, the far-off aroma of citrus and lemon enticing her senses. Curious and… Something else? She couldn’t quite interpret the accent that shot boldly through his otherwise sedate aura.

”So… How much nader-canoch do you know? Are you proficient in the language?” She readied her technique. Were he to answer, her eyes would dart in, assimilating with the weave for a fleeting moment before quickly disengaging, acquiring as much information as she could at her level.

Her head surged for a moment, as if blood rushed to flood the area. It was difficult not to openly swoon. He’d surely see how the magic affected her; she was not very good, as she’d stated before, though her technique was sharp. Celeste was simply inexperienced. Then again, she was a thirteen year-old girl.

[Thomas Cosa]

"Nine?!"

Shock bloomed from his aura, tinging the center and coloring his tone, but Thomas at least held the emotion from his face. Or he tried to anyway. He gave himself away in the tightening of his jaw, the subtle narrowing of his eyes -- it wasn't only the shock of someone learning magic at such a young age, but the idea that someone would even consider allowing a nine year old around magic, personal magic especially, that bothered the pulser.

"That's...very young," Thomas muttered, stifling his burning desire to ask, to question -- was it her choice, to learn so young? Had magic been forced on her? And who-the-petch had the bright idea on initiating a child on personal magics.

And who was this friend?

He nodded at her mention of practice, allowing his own emotions to be ignored in favor of the Celeste's -- perhaps had he not been so shocked at her age of initiation, if he wasn't so involved in examining her emotions over his own, perhaps then he would have noticed the growing concern and even protectiveness he was beginning to feel towards the girl. She would though, the spiraling cold-warmth of worry biting the colored edges of his aura.

Thomas in turn, felt the ever familiar warmth of his own Djed, tickling his stomach as it bubbled and stirred with each focused breath, unnaturally expanding and pushing against his self, seeping out in a smoky rainbow of colors and scents and sounds, surrounding the morphling in a fantastical perspective of transparent emotion and intent.

He was surprised at the already dulled purples of her aura, the bitting scent of fresh lemons cakes; she was still nostalgic. Or she became so, since he had last used his power -- the pulser mage had complete missed the facial queues, never the most observant.

"Fairly so. I would consider myself conversational. I can follow most instruction from my masters, but my main mentor, a pulser, uses common, so I haven't really improved much since arriving," Celeste would note that he was more forthcoming, a hint of comradery warming his voice, "But I know the basics well enough, so it should be easy enough to teach you," he added, an afterthought as he remembered their original deal.

Still though, there was more to ask.

"And the magic you used earlier," he paused, gesturing towards where he imagined the book to be -- he couldn't look anywhere else but the morphling's ever-shifting aura, or he would be blinded by the overwhelming stimulation of information. "That was...what?" He asked, carefully watching for every change in shape, brightening or dampening of color or tone.

[Celeste Arumen]

Though she hadn’t been looking at the time, she might’ve guessed his aura read surprised. It colored the tone of his voice. Was it really so strange, to have started so early in life? Celeste puzzled this over, her aura turning thoughtful. The life she led was all she’d ever known. To think of other kids leading normal lives… Well, she might’ve been jealous, had she not been so content.

As she darted inward, she caught her sincerity, which was heartening to say the least. There was a very vague taste of sweetbread and the clean scent of spring air – yes, that was it! They were the smells of Alvadas, most notably her friend Kit. It brought her comfort. So, what did they even mean? As a novice, she sometimes had trouble interpreting the cues emanating from a human aura. Simple cues, now those were easily understood, given some context. But with Thomas, she was struggling and the slight confusion would be apparent. He’d know he had the upper hand.

Sighing, she tried to keep focused. ”It was divine,” she said wryly, her tone colored with amusement. ”Literally.” That would lead him by the nose, all right. She regained some measure of control in the situation. ”It’s god-magic, though of which I’d be interested to hear your guess.” She knew he could. It should be obvious, given she was from the City of Illusions. Then again, perhaps he’d never heard of such a thing.

”I’ll tell you, if you can keep a secret. It’s the mark of Ionu themselves.” Whoever they were. He would know then. She was a morpher-illusionist. Celeste had a very powerful combination at her disposal. The girl swelled with pride. It was difficult not to. But she couldn’t let whatever small victory she might’ve won fall by the wayside. No, instead, she prepared to dart through his aura yet again.

”So tell me. Do you know any god-magic yourself?” That would be a very interesting tidbit, were it true. She didn’t think so, but it never hurt to ask. With her eyes trained on his aura, she was prepared to see any hesitation or flicker of deceit, were it to arise.

[Thomas Cosa]

The girl's aura danced in tempo with her heart, waxing and waning with her very breath. Bulbs of rose and yellow flowered delicately around her skull, dispersing and appearing in a seemingly random way. A sudden warmth touched his forehead, slowly reaching out to surround his entire skull. Thomas frowned, once again confused by the complexities of a sentient's aura. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't entirely enjoyable either -- rather neutral, like a calm confusion, or a searching for something.

There was something else he noticed, delving deeper into the mageling's aura. It had taken on a waxy texture, glossy and almost reflective; it wasn't as overbearing as her emotions, but it had managed to stay stagnant since he had cast the spell. He would catch a muddle reflection of himself, but only every couple of ticks.

"Her attentions, maybe?" He considered, noticing the way her eyes darted back and forth. His body shivered slightly, the tingle of power, of magic, touching the base of his spine.

Was he sensing her magic? Did auristics have it's own aura?

Thomas smiled softly, realizing he was sensing both her use of magic and her attentions on him.

"Ionu?" Thomas echoed dumbly, "Themselves? Are they twin gods?" the pulser was sure she had only mentioned one name, but the use of the pronoun confused him. It was her next question though, that forced him to shut off his magic.

He would need all his focus.

"No," he said blatantly, trying his best to hide his secret. He answered as quickly as he could managed, but the regret that washed over him later was surely something she would notice -- it killed him to deny Avalis, his patroness in his eyes. But Thomas knew that his gnosis would be his trump card, his last resort should he ever find himself in trouble. He could see anything anyone ever did, in this life, and that was something anyone could find useful. Even more of a reason to keep it secret.

Still, though, she had shown enough trust to tell him her secret. So he left a hint instead, something he could expand upon later -- outside of the Citadel, where there weren't listening golems -- "But I do worship gods. Avalis, in particular. Do you know of Her?."