[Trail of Waterfalls] Hot Rocks

[Bennar Witt]

86th Fall, 515 A.V.
Trail of Waterfalls

Oddly enough, Bennar wasn’t as fearful of reimancy as he had been before. Sure it had given him scars, and too much pain to think about all at once. But it had also saved his life. It was a tool he could use when all else failed him, and that was nothing to ignore. The pain had been his fault. He had feared it and thus misunderstood the potential of his magic. Since the attack, he had been thinking on the power frequently. The danger inherent in it was only a partial focus. He found it odd that after another life-threatening experience involving the elemental magic he had actually lost some of the phobia for the magic.

Perhaps it was not so odd. His fear had always been for the destructive power of the magic. It had caused so much pain, and not only with physical scars. Now, however, he feared the dangerous of ignorance. The reimancy was a part of him, no matter what he thought of it. The only path forward now was understanding it. Which was why he was presently wandering aimlessly down the Trail of Waterfalls. He needed someplace secluded and without too many bystanders to catch fire. He came to the Trail often to clear his head and enjoy some solitude, so it was a natural destination for him.

He had no idea what he was looking for. The path meandered through a series of breathtaking views and secluded nooks. Was that clearing Reimancy safe? Did that bench look magic worthy? Finally he found a stoney clearing with a few old benches. It positively screamed I won’t burn the city down if you petch this up! Bennar was satisfied with it.

So where was he going to start? Benji focused on the djed within him. It had become easier gradually. Now it was almost as simple as locating his heart rate. Almost… He felt the power of his identity. The reality lay in his mind’s will to manipulate it. The power was a source of anxiety for him, but also eagerness. Benji cracked his neck.

He gave himself a warm-up exercise of fine djed manipulation. He systematically willed the djed in his eyebrows to change their reality. His left grew hairy and bushy, and grey. Then his right did the same. Benji felt them, maintaining the morphing. He smiled at the small magic. Morphing had never caused him the kind of trouble Reimancy had. Of course, he didn’t have as thorough an experience with it. He changed his nose, making it grow larger and knobbier. Eventually his entire face had systematically had its djed changed to that of the old man he was most experienced changing into. Then he just as slowly shifted his visage back to normal.

The minor exertion from this left him feeling ready to attempt more ambitious magics. Benji glanced back towards the trail. It was just visible through a sparse copse of trees. The wind heralded a chill that cut through thinner clothes. He thought that he would be left alone to his practice because of it.

It was time to start his experiment in earnest.

[Bennar Witt]

The Djed of his body was easy to will into Res. It had been getting easier, and after recovering from his previous large use of the stuff, it had been noticeably smoother. Benji created some of the ethereal stuff from his hands. He watched the gaseous substance swirl into a clump in front of him. Ben manipulated the stuff with his mind. He concentrated on the res itself, focusing in on its detail. He had not really focused on the stuff itself before. Mostly he had always been concerned with transforming it for some flashy use.

The gaseous stuff stirred with his mind’s attention. It seemed to be anticipating something from him. He wondered why it was always so gaseous. Surely, those Reimancers who specialize in water manifest their Res as liquid? Was gas the only form Res took? Ben shifted his eyes to the nearby earth. What about solid?

He subtly willed the Res to alter itself. He didn’t want it to ignite in flame or solidify into stone as per usual. He was trying to shift the state of the stuff. Perhaps with a different solidity to the Res he could open up new possibilities. Benji found his mind drifted to stone as an example of something solid. The fist sized Res floating in front of him wobbled momentarily, then turned to stone and fell to the ground with a soft thud. It was the same grey stone that made up most of the cobbles of Lhavitian streets. Bennar frowned at it.

He had created stone before, when defending himself. But he hadn’t meant to do it this time. Perhaps his discipline had failed him. Or perhaps his Res really couldn’t change. This made Ben frown more intensely. That couldn’t be it.

He began to draw more Res from himself. This time he folder his arms and let it seal from his forehead. He watched the second max of gaseous Res swirl a few inches from his head and pondered the stuff. If he could control the essence of it, he should be able to control its state as well. Ben willed the stuff to change. He kept the idea of Res in his mind the whole time, but imprinted the will to change as well.

The Res shifted at a higher frequency and spiraled inward upon itself. It was trying to comply, clearly. Apparently his mental cues were not enough. A bit of the Res on the outside turned to stone. Like flakes of snow it fell in tiny bits from the outer edge to the earth below. Benji willed that to stop. He didn’t want to waste any of the precious stuff.

Maybe solid from gas was too big a jump for a first time. Ben decided to urge the gaseous Res to instead clump together more. He tried to mentally create the image of precipitation without the water. In his mind’s eye it was the ethereal Res that changed, not water. There was an immediate reaction in the Res. It slowed it’s swirling and started instead to expand and contract at random across its roughly spherical surface. Benji decided this was a good thing.

[Bennar Witt]

The slowly pulsating Res began to condensate within itself. The center was shifting into a bulbous mass of liquid Res. Clumps of it would bulge out occasionally as the transition was unevenly distributed. Eventually, after about ten ticks, the amorphous ball of gaseous Red became an amorphous ball of liquid Res. Victory!

Ben leant in and inspected it. The Res was indeed liquid. He raised a finger and held it to the liquid blob. Hew did not touch it though, not wanting to ruin what he had created. He began to once again transmute his Djed into Res, letting it flow from the fingertip into the mass. He watched the Res spill from his fingertip and eagerly join the now spherical blob of liquid Res. When he created it it poured forth as liquid. Interesting.

Next he sent the Res away about two feet from him. The ball of liquid quivered and spun slowly. The longer he waited, the more eagerly the stuff resisted him. It wanted to take on a natural form. He could feel the need in the Res. But he wanted to do something else before letting the stuff change. He pointed his finger again and refocused on the djed within himself. Bennar began to let the djed pour into Res outside his body.

It swirled forth as gas, curling first around his finger and then drifting away as he ushered it with his mind. The gas contacted the other Res and it condensed into droplets of liquid before eagerly being dipped into the Res. Interesting. His Res took on the liquid state when it encountered more liquid Res. He had been able to maintain Res of different states though. That had to be important.

The willpower it took for the Res to not change was getting to be a nuisance. Ben willed the Res to be fire. The liquid ball flared two meters high as it caught. The bottom of the fireball was blue in its intensity and the top a wild orange licking after yellow. The explosion of heat that followed after the fast dwindling fireball made Bennar step back. Had that been because of the liquid Res that the fire had been so intense? Perhaps it was like using oil?

Benji quickly extracted more Res. It took hardly a thought. He shaped it in his mind into a bowl and held his hands under it. With a moment’s thought, the Res became stone, the same as before. The new stone bowl fell into his arms like any mundane bowl would. Benji struggled with the sudden weight for a moment. He set the bowl down on the ground. He had another brilliant idea. Brilliant being used loosely.

Benji poured more liquid Res into the bowl, watching it fall. He struggled to keep the stuff from transforming into stone when it touched the bowl for a moment. When the bowl was filled to the brim he thought [/fire[/i]! The Res ignited in the bowl. The flames licked the air three feet above the stone bowl. Benji watched the flames waver in the chill of the late Fall wind. Hotter. I wish this fire was a bit hotter. As he thought that, he felt a tendril of warmth brush his face. Could he have done that?

Hotter. The thought was a command in his mind. The fire flickered violently and another burst of heat washed over his exposed skin.

[Bennar Witt]

The blaze within the stone bowl rapidly grew hotter. It pushed away the cold of the day and Benji felt sweat beads forming on his face. The flame was becoming hard to look at. Its inferno grew ambitiously. Benji lifted a hand to his forehead and whipped away the sweat. He wondered how hot he could get the fire.

Taking a step back and feeling a bit apprehensive about the reckless course he was about to take, he prepared mentally for the worst. Benji willed the flames to be as hot as he could make them. The fire burned bright and he looked away. The shock of the heat hitting him made Benji lose his concentration. He stumbled back and the fire disappeared. It had gone out as quickly as it was created.

Benji sighed, almost regretting the death of the flare. It’s probably best that it died. What were you thinking? His self-criticizing mind had a point. That little stunt could have burned him up. Without much idea what to do next he approached the bowl. A gasp slipped from his lips when he saw the inside of the bowl. It was red hot and glowing with the heat of the now dead fire.

He had heated the stone. This, for Ben, was a big deal.

He shuffled over to a nearby tree and plucked one of the needles off it. When he let the thin green spike fall into the stone bowl, which was still glowing dimly, the needle combusted. A bright yellow flame licked upward from where it had landed. The tiny flame was killed by the cooling wind quickly. The Alvadan mage was already thinking of what to do next.

Ben watched in his upraised palm as the Res was generated. It formed like colored sweat, sliding from the surface as he redefined his body’s djed. It responded to his mind’s direction with ease. The small amounts he was working with were good for detailed work, though he wasn’t doing that. He quickly let the res turn to stone again. It dropped into his hand. Benji set it inside the now cool bowl and put a finger on the cool stone.

Once again he summoned his Res. He concentrated on the gaseous Res he was most familiar with. But this time he did not ignite it, or turn it to stone. The Res was pushed into stone with a tremendous force of willpower. Benji wrestled with the concept as he did so. It took him longer than he expected, but in the end he simple made it the reality. That was magic after all.

Ignite!

The rock began to heat up. He could see it quickly starting to glow. Benji took a step back and grinned. He had accomplished much today, but he was not done. He watched as the new stone glowed red hot and began to shift. The glow intensified a bit more and the rock finally broke and oozes over itself. It began to spread along the bottom of the bowl into a roughly circular blob. Then it stopped moving.

Benji straightened and began pacing. He was running through the process of events. For the first time in nearly forever he had used Reimancy and felt like he had achieved something positive. As he watched his handiwork cool he hear footsteps behind him. It startled him, he had forgotten where he was in the rush of triumph. Someone could see what he was doing if they happened to be walking down the trail.

Bennar turned to face the trail…

[Ayszel]

Ayszel had been in Lhavit not yet half a season and already, as was her nature, she had settled into a routine. This though was without question the most pleasurable part. While she was enjoying her work and home more than anticipated, the city and her mortal form still unnerved her. Though she moved more naturally on legs than she had when she first arrived, the constant angle at which Lhavit was built had had some hand in that, she missed her dhani form. Perhaps if I had learned my human form among the others of my kind I would feel more kinship with it…but it is a different entity entirely with different senses, a different name, a whole new identity.

Though registering under a false name at the Cosmos center had firmly ostracised her old identity from her new life it had also created a division of spirit she hadn’t anticipated. At the time she had wanted to divide herself from her form, but until she was forced to live within the fake form she had created for herself she hadn’t realized the repercussions.

Perhaps…more than anything…it’s because I can’t find it. If I could just find it…maybe it would reunite me with myself… she wondered, as her tail propelled her in a distracted sway along the wooden ribbing of the path. Though she had tentatively tried, she hadn’t been able to find the pool of golden djed within her mortal seeming. It was as if her soul had abandoned the form.

But here, on the trail of waterfalls, she was able to become herself. It had become an almost daily stroll, an hour to reunite herself with her soul and keep the meagre hold she retained on her sense of self. It’s been almost half a year since I’ve heard my own name.. Ayszel realized forlornly, though Litka had become the identity of her mortal seeming, it held no sway over her other forms beyond a snarling hatred of the other woman who held that name.

With both the geological and political upheaval Lhavit was experiencing few people were finding the time or will to tread the wood laden pathway that trailed out from the city. So here, Ayszel was able to find herself alone with enough certainty and safety to done her Dhani self. Slithering along the planks she held a large woven basket over one forearm with a red long sleeved dress and purple woven belt. It was completely open in the front and was thus easily secured in hast by overlapping the fabric and securing it in the front with the belt. Should anyone come meandering up or down the path Ayszel could slip into the plentiful trees and attain her more presentable form in presentable clothing.

It had happened on occasion; fortunately the wanderers were preoccupied enough with their surroundings, that despite the lack of leaves they never noticed anything out of place. Furthermore, while her Dhani form couldn’t see as well as in her mortal seeming, her slithering tongue and movement oriented eyes picked up incomers with relative ease.

One of her favorite places opened up on her immediate right. Only a small long gap in the trees led to the glen, the rest of its circumference was so thickly shrouded in trees that no one could see into the small glen without wandering in themselves. Inside, it was thickly wooded enough that if they did there were enough places to slither and hide in that Ayszel felt fairly secure in the privacy it afforded. Ayszel hated thinking so carefully about where she tread, but better that than to never slither.

Ayszels eyes widened as she rounded the corner, her scales slipping off the wooden path with only a slight thump. There was a man already in her glen, doing with flames what Ayszel immediately recognized as reimancy. She had seen little magic since coming to Lhavit, let alone the magic she had become so familiar with as a Geomancer in Zinrah.

The man was transfixed with his spell making it easy for Ayszel to focus on moving into the trees as silently as she could manage. Paying more attention to her long limb than him, Ayszel pressed and slid her tail against the trees bases and widened each sinusoidal arch to keep from rustling the leaves that thickly decorated the ground. Fortunately, the bushes were still fairly heavily laden with brown leaves and so as she ducked her serpentine face between two and pressed her stomach to the ground, she watched the sorcerer from beneath the canopy of leaves in relative camouflage, her brown iridescent snake head blending into the leaves.

A snicker touched her lips, Just like they said in Zinrah, they practice Reimancy with such bravado and extreme ineloquence. Reimancy wasn’t about the extravagant, the extravagant pires and huge boulders were relatively easy to transmogrify and didn’t make a master. The ability to learn identity and replicate it was the beautiful core of the magics power. That was what res was, it was identity, and reimancy the power over identity.

The plodding of footsteps from the pathway into the glen almost made her whirl around to face the danger too, her mouth parted in a silent hiss as her tongue brought the events to her. Another man had stumbled into the clearing, A friend? Ayszel wondered, eyes flickering between the two. No…he seems as startled as I...

“A giant snake was seen on these trails earlier this morning stranger, we’re alerting anyone on the trails we see. Better get back to Lhavit proper while someone deals with this.” He turned then, scanning the edges of the trail as he made his way at a quick trot back toward Lhavit, “Keep your eyes about you!” He called over his shoulder, a farewell refrain.

It’s time to abandon this form.. Ayszel realized immediately, I was too lenient, too lax and comfortable…I’ll have to give up this form for a while…and be careful about coming back here if I’m to avoid getting caught. she groaned, berating herself harshly for the inexcusable mistake.

Glancing at the figure, she hoped he knew nothing about Dhani forms and wouldn’t make the connection between the spotted snake and an odd stranger emerging from the bushes. But the risk was worth it, if everyone was going to be looking for this form she’d never get back into Lhavit unaccosted. Slowly, her body contorted itself as she tucked her head behind the bushes. Withering away, until she was only 6 feet tall her body shrank as her tail split in two, forming the long awkward legs of her Myrian looking human form.

Grabbing her dress from the basket she pulled the long sleeves on as quickly as she could and tied the rough woven purple belt about the crimson. They were hardly unobtrusive colours, and she had no doubt if the man had any eyes at all he would have spotted her by now. The back of the dress was open, fastened only by a stretch of material from the top of one shoulder, behind her neck, and to the other sleeve to accommodate the spires of translucent stone that stretched out from her shoulder. There was no way to hide the protrusion, Ayszel had agonized over ideas for too many years to give it much thought now. However, thankfully, the long sleeves hid the pebbled arm and Gnosis on her arms, making her moderately less obtrusive and memorable to the beholder.

Emerging from the trees she picked up her dress, careful not to snag it on any sharp projections or twigs. Her basket held across one arm. “I heard. That man say snake? He must be crazy, I walk here every day and I never see no snake!” She laughed as she dusted off the front of her skirt, hiding the panicked look she was still trying to wipe off her face by hiding her face entirely. Eventually, once she had tempered the look into something she hoped resembled fear instead of panic she glanced up at the young sorcerer.

“I am sorry to frighten or disturb you,” she apologized, not sure which word was most appropriate, “ I was just collect berries and roots for food tonight…” she lied, fumbling for a season to be emerging from her woods. As she gestured to the woven basket on her arm she saw that it was empty, belaying her lie, and so flushing with embarrassment she added, “Obviously not good pickings with the cold.”

[Bennar Witt]

What was going on?! Ben frantically shuffled in front of the still smoldering stone bowl and crossed his arms. He listened blankly as the man said his warning, completely stunned by the sudden appearance of the messenger. A giant snake? His bewilderment only grew after the man promptly turned and marched on only to be replaced by a very odd woman minutes later.

She was tan and tall, much taller than Benji himself. She had some sort of problem with her arm. He peered at it while she spoke and his heart skipped a beat. He recognized that kind of…wound. She was either a Reimancer, or she knew one. But his focus was returned to her as she finished talking.

“What?” He stared at her, trying not to appear completely shocked by what had just transpired. “Well, well I’d say it is probably out of season for berries. And I do think he said a giant snake to be precise.” Benji glanced at her empty basket and her flustered look. The poor woman! He would need to escort her away from these apparently snake-infested woods before she succumbed to dinner for the beast.

“I have never heard of snakes on the Trail of Waterfalls before.” He said, glancing about suspiciously as if to catch the giant scaled monster in the act of sneaking up on them. “I am Ben Witt. You may call me Ben.” He gave a curt bow, remembering his manners. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

He glanced back at the smoldering stone bowl. “I was just… Enjoying the scenery. I love the Autumn, it has such potential for change.” He rambled, not wanting to draw attention to the suspicious remnants of his magic.

They were alone in the wooded dell, save for a possible man eating snake. He had no idea who this wildly foreign woman was. But it did strike him as odd that she had appeared out of the woods rather than the trail. But considering what had just happened, her appearance was one of the least odd things that happened in the past few minutes.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” He began, his eyes drifting to the stoney arm. “Where are you from? You-you don’t look local if you’ll forgive my boldness.” He smiled in a friendly manner. His face had an easy smile.

[Ayszel]

Out of season? Though she recognized each season she wasn’t sure what the turn of phrase meant, however she did catch his correction. She couldn’t help the scowl that crossed her face, “Common is my three language. It is not always…my understanding,” she explained unapologetically. It was difficult enough to be surrounded by people speaking rapidly in a language she could barely understand without it being flung in her face, or repeatedly corrected. Surrounded by such a foreign culture had whittled away the little patience she had for humans, and so she responded a little more dramatically than was necessarily appropriate. “Please speak slow now…” She commanded, the please a mere accoutrement to the rest of the sentence.

Ben…humans have such odd names.. She decided, When did a flip of the tongue become a name…an appropriate name certainly must be more than a single syllable. She watched him bow with a wiggling mouth that told of her cultural ineptitude. It was odd, she had known the cultural expectations in Zinrah with as much clarity and surety as she could slither, here she felt a fumbling fool. Copying his brief bow she nodded her head gently, “Yes. Pleased, Ben. Litka…Litka of the Blooded Fangs,” She added hastily, remembering the stare of the Cosmic Center secretary as she had waited for the usual clan name that followed a Myrians introduction.

Ayszel followed his glance to the smoldering stone bowl and smiled at his rambling excuses, How transparent… she decided, not thinking for a moment that she may also be as inept in her lies. “You were casting Reimancy,” she stated, “Reimancy is lovely scenery?” she thought she had known the definition of scenery, pertaining specifically to the wilderness, but perhaps I am mistaken if this is scenery? “Your Reimancy is certainly not lovely scenery.” She added apologetically, not for what she said but for his inadequacy. “Human Reimancy is very…clutz…awkward,” she added several words in her attempt to communicate.

She watched his eyes drift to her shoulder with a growing self conscious frown, a mark of her inadequacy. One of her most painful memories bound inseparably from her greatest. However, his following words and easy smile eased a smile from her lips in return. Terribly impressive tact for a human, she thought, giving him his due credit.

“Lhavit is home now. But no, not raised here. I am from Fa-“ She almost murmured Falyndar, but worried that that would be too intimately bound to his potential knowledge of giant snakes and quickly changed course, “Taloba, the south jungle.” She elaborated, having found several Lhavitians that hadn’t recognized the name of the Myrian city. Fortunately, they seemed to know as little about Myrian culture as she herself knew and she had managed to avoid the more probing questions, or lied outright with the listener none the wiser.

He’s gazing around all nervously. Should I be acting nervous too? she wondered for a moment before copying his expressions, still getting used to the minute musculature of the human face she now donned. “Need we leave?” She asked haltingly, with an unintentionally exaggerated gaze around the glen.

[Bennar Witt]

Awkward! Awkward? My magic is awkward? Ben thought, his smile turning into a faded grin as he rubbed his hands together. So she had seen him doing his magic. It was good that she wasn’t making a fuss over it, at least. He didn’t appreciate the not so subtle criticism, but apparently she was not very good with the common language. She probably didn’t mean awkward. A slip of the tongue.

“Well- uh- Pleased to meet you, Litka.” He said again, watching her awkward bow. She was indeed foreign, from Taloba. He had learned about Taloba as a child. Specifically that it was in Falyndar. That was the pathetic extent of his knowledge of the city. “You do Reimancy?” He was trying to speak clearly without being one of those people who spoke to a foreigner like a child. He also made a point to maintain eye contact.

Her facial mockery of his fear set his manners off course a bit. Perhaps that too was some foreign thing. He had always prided himself on manners and diplomacy skills. “Well I don’t know if leaving is all that necessary.” He glanced at her and slowed down his speech. “Lhavit doesn’t usually have snakes. He must have been mistaken.” He nodded to reaffirm this. He couldn’t help shifting his eyes around one last time though.

With nothing much left to say in the ways of pleasantries he turned back to his bowl. “I don’t do public Reimancy much. Shinya, you know.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to do this inside, for obvious reasons.” Gods, why am I saying all this? There was a certain rule Ben had made for himself about not disclosing his magical abilities to outsiders. It might have been the situation, or that she seemed so out of place.

It finally occurred to him how odd it was that she was there. A Taloban in Lhavit? A Myrian, apparently. He peered surreptitiously over at her while kneeling down next to the bowl. He knew nothing of the Myrians, but Lhavit was a very wonderful city. Perhaps it was a destination many sought out. Perhaps he was the odd one for not noticing more Myrians walking here and there.

Wouldn’t surprise me. He thought dryly.

“Well since you are here, what did you think of my…molten rock?” He asked, still kneeling next to the bowl with the now cooling lava in it. He motioned her over and gestured to the substance, as if she needed some indication of what he meant. “I think it went rather well, for a first attempt.”

[Ayszel]

Pleased to meet you…that must be Lhavitian she decided, commending the foreign hello to memory. There was more to learning a language than syntax and vocabulary; one had to learn the culture of each language as well. Nothing could have prepared her for that aspect of Common.

As Ben watched her bow she glanced up at him, inspecting his appearance more closely now that they seemed to be slipping into extended conversation. He was short, even for the average human male and once standing erect she was almost a foot taller than him. While most females may have felt uncomfortable at such a tremendous height, or perturbed by males shortness, it was not a characteristic she transcribed to memory. He was marked with several scars, the most notable of which ran across his fore head. However, many Dhani were scarred by the jungle so she didn’t think it unusual though she noted it was not something one typically saw in Lhavit. His clothes were also particularly unusual; though they were the typical lhavitian style they were muted mundane colours among the jewel tones that typically walked the streets. Perhaps the only way in which she fit into the city.

She nodded when he asked whether or not she did Reimancy, appreciating the slow and careful pace of his words. “Yes, Geomancy. You do Geomancy and Pyromancy?” She asked, having observed those two she wondered if he had power over any others. Though his scope was impressive, she had been warned that the scope of foreigners was always far more extensive than those Reimancers in Zinrah, that didn’t mean their control was superior.

She glanced at him tilting her head curiously, If someone had set off the alarm in Zinrah, everyone would have leapt into action. The word of even a relative stranger would have been taken as honest and true. They question their own kind here, they don’t believe them…that’s intriguing…I knew a place that took such care in its appearance would have something hidden beneath it. Though I never would have guessed it would be this. The people here live in pieces…live isolated from one another. How can their spirits take it? she wondered to herself, an aching sadness for them breaking open in her chest. To live without community was to live in more excruciation than to live without oneself. While she loathed not knowing herself, at least she had Caiyha’s community.

She licked her lips, a remnant of her habitual tongue sensing in her other forms, and watched him lean down over the stone bowl. “Shinya? Reimancy is not allowed in Lhavit?” She asked shock widening her eyes. Having no access to djed in this form she hadn’t had the opportunity to do Reimancy in public Apparently fortunately…. She nodded as she looked down at the cooling lava, I’ve never seen someone create something like this… she admitted to herself, admitting a low whistle.

Kneeling before the bowl she closed her eyes and tossed herself into the black depths of her inner self. It was harder here than in her Dhani form, the darkness seemed stranger and more threatening than before. She buckled slightly as she wandered deeper into the darkness. Please let the pool be there, please let the pool be there… she chanted to herself. She was curious what she would find when she inspected the stone with her djed and she wanted to prove that the Reimancy modality of Zinrah was better than the humans. She couldn't help the prick of desperation that she not fail, especially in the presence of someone. Perhaps it was her desperation, her lack of identity, or perhaps she simply could not let herself go enough but as she reached the spot where the golden glistening pool of res usually was there was nothing.

Closing her eyes tighter she crossed her legs before what should have been its edge. Slow your breathing… she reminded herself as she followed her own command. Taking a deep breath she released it just as slowly as she spread her arms and fell backward into the darkness. She spun through it, head over heels, welcoming its cold tendrils around her body. Encased in the strangeness of it she felt it, the prickling of familiarity.

A gentle trickle from the ceiling was worming its way down to her feet, so small that her thumb hid the entire puddle as she pressed it into the faint liquid. It glowed, like the golden light of the stars above Lhavit. Ayszel pressed her thumb into the liquid as it slowly sank through the puddle, into its own realm, the realm of djed. The familiar warmth washed over her hand for a moment and she opened her eyes to gaze at the bowl before her holding as tightly as she could to the small vestiges of djed being allowed to her.

Slowly, it pooled in the crevices of her hand and spread out like water into the fabric of the stone before her. It’s make-up was foreign, though she had only felt the prism of a handful of stone in Zinrah and was by no means well educated in the myriad of stone types. I wonder how accurate this stone is, how well constructed. Is this his natural stone? If he can do this with multiple types of stone I shall be duly impressed. The trickle from the ceiling of her consciousnesses broadened into a waterfall of glittering sparkling djed and the darkness was tempered into a gray familiarity. What's happening?! Have I found myself? She was torn, she hated the idea that her identity could be found in this human body and the idea that she must live her life without her identity and without her djed.

She poured the flickering lights of Djed into the stone bowl, feeling the crystallization that gave the stone its identity. “What kind of sssstone isss thissss? Can you make otherssss? I have heard of your kindssss…flassshy? Sssshowy? Reimancy dissssplaysss…the fire and rock. Though I have never sssseen rock on fire…that is..incredible…but I have heard tell that you…that you only make one kind of rock. The natural kind? “Why? Why do you do Reimancy?” She asked curiously. Without that sense of obligation to ones community she couldn’t understand the use for magic, if not for service.

She licked her lips as she spoke, hoping her point was conveyed properly. She hadn't noticed the drawn out sss's of her speech until her forked tongue flicked against her lips. In her meditative attempt to slip into herself and draw upon her res she had moved into her Dhani form unintentionally. Her legs binding and fusing into a long thick rainbow marked tail and her broadening into a serpents face.

Her thin slitted eyes widened in horror and panic made her heart flutter. Will he run? Will he fight me? What can he do? She wondered in a peppering of thought. Before he could make a lunge away or reach for Djed she lunged toward him, feet upon feet of coils thrown toward his form to coil about him hoping to pin his arms to his side.

"Don't make sssssound! Don't make sssound and I'sss will tell you ssssomething about Reimancy. Ssssomething we know in Zzzzinrah you humansss don't consssider." She rarely negotiated, and certainly not for her life. Perhaps she had offered too much, she considered for a moment. But whether she had managed to capture him in her coils or not to barter too little would mean she would have to kill the human to escape and remain in the city, and even then the presence of a Dhani in the city wold be exposed...she would be living in even more constant fear than she did now.

And so she gazed at the man. His back as he fled, or his eyes as he stood trapped within her coils for he would seal both of their fates. I know I swore to you three great ladies that I would never betray Zinrahs secrets to aid another city, only in the service of your realms but certainly another Geomancer falls within your realm Semele...and if it is to save me so I may serve you all in time to come, with every action I cast my hand at, certainly you would want that... She prayed, her coils clenching slightly with the effort of the prayer.

[Bennar Witt]

Snake! He thought dumbly as she squeezed him. Gods what a fool he had been this whole time. Litka had changed from the tall, dark woman into some sort of hybrid snake. Her head grew fangs and scales and a forked tongue. Her turned reptilian and his first thought after the horror was that she was a morpheme playing some cruel joke on him. But no, she must be some sort of… Kelvic, or something.

Ben was gathering the Res in his mouth, ready to spit fire on her reptilian face. But then she spoke. She told him she would give him a secret of Zinrah, whatever that was. The overriding point Ben got from the exchange was that she wasn’t sure about killing him. That was definitely a positive. He watched as her forked tongue flickered out of her mouth, exploring the gap between them, then returning just as quickly.

“You’re the snake he was talking about.” It was a statement, not a question. A dumb statement. Ben let the Res be absorbed back into djed and glanced at the entrance to the trail where the man had been. He concentrated on his djed and sent a burst of willpower through his body. He stuck his tongue out like she had, and like her, his tongue had morphed into that of a snake. He let the thing flicker in front of her face for a brief moment before pulling it back into his mouth. There, now she knows I can morph also. Perhaps that will get her to let me go. His tongue returned to its normal shape after he lost his concentration due to her squeezing.

“Please, let me down. I’m sure we can find a civil way through this.” He stuttered, trying to keep the uneasiness from his voice. He thought about the man who had come with the warning, and the look of anxiety evident upon even her reptilian face. Or was he crazy? “Listen. Your secret is safe with me.” He certainly would not tell them she had been practicing morphing.

Benji felt the squeezing tighten around him. It was like a giant iron fist was trying to pop his head from his shoulders. “Arrgh! Please” He tried to say. His lungs were depleting of air very fast. His grace grew red and his temples bulged. His eyes flickered once again to the trail’s entrance. Nothing.

His life seemed to depend on her mercy or his Reimancy at this point. He gathered the Res in his mouth and waited for her next move. If he began to black out he would have to use it on her. It might not work, after all a face full of fire may just make her squeeze him more, but it was his last option. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.