Theron leans over his work table on the porch of the Knight's Transcendent's cabin, carefully examining a small rune carved into a smoothed, obsidian stone. All about the desk are a series of stacks of notes, various magical paraphernalia and some of his nick knacks . Rubbing his chin as if in anticipation, he holds his hand over the stone and narrows his eyes in concentration, taking a deep breath.
At the exhale, wispy plumes of smoke drift out of his fingers tips, wafting between a blue and green hue and seemingly are grabbed at the end by the rune as they pour into it. A slight glow emanates from the carved portion and his eyes grow wide for a moment with excitement, murmuring incantations under his breath.
From the smoke comes a faint "zzt" sound and he pauses in the incantation to puzzle the cloud-like plumes suddenly coalesce into a crackling bolt of shocking power anchored from the stone to Theron's hand. His body freezes in place, only moving to convulse until the force the energy surging through him pitches him sideways onto the floor with a 'whump' sound that can be heard outside.
A single hand finally clutches the table as he hauls himself back to his feet, the disarray of his items more chaotic as it had been shook during everything. He lets out a single cough and a small acrid bit of smoke escapes his mouth, followed by a ragged few breaths.
"Obsidian... isn't... the answer...it seems."
He emerges into the sun light of a hazy New Haven afternoon, the heat oppressive in the midday, holding his shocked arm with his good hand, sucking through his teeth in pain.
Glancing at the statue of the Maimed Lady, bloody and stoic as ever he freezes a bit. And slowly rights himself, ignoring the pain in his arm with a slightly guilty look.
Aska walked along, not really having a direction. She held a small vial of ash in front of her, examining the substance. A familiar sent of magical lightning wafted over her. She hurried over to a convulsing Theron, tucking the vial out of sight.
"Ah, Aska good morning." Theron goes to wave but the arm convulses and he grabs the wrist with his other good hand, wincing in slight pain, smiling and talking through his teeth a moment.
"How have you been?" he strains out.
She smiles and motions for him to come over, frowning at the ward that drapes the stairs. Her hands begin to softly sparkle green, obvious to anyone who knows magicka is a healing spell.
"Ah, thank you. That might help." He descends the rest of the stairs and walks over to her with his arm extended.
"It's been years since I've been at the academy. And I didn't pay much attention to enchantment theory at the time. So I'm having to cobble together a working methodology with... mixed results."
"But I am, at the very least, running out of ways to fail."
She smiles and nods. Instead of saying the spell she waves her hands around in a complex motion before laying her hands on his arm. She sticks out her tongue at his comment of 'running out of ways to fail'.
He breathes out in relief as the spell passes into him, then gives her a jokingly incredulous look at her reaction. "This is what learning looks like, Aska." he says in mock hurt.
Holding up his hand he flexes his fingers, looking appreciatively at their function returning before turning back to her.
"I'm glad you here though. I've been meaning to follow up with you. Have you had any troubles lately with your curse? Dreams, losing time, visions?" His voice is friendly, but serious.
He leans in a bit. "Any more talking?"
She laughs silently at his remark. Shaking her head she reaches into her pouch for her book.
She scribbles some then holds it up for him to see.
"No talking or anything else. The one troubling thing is I keep having these compulsions to practice dark magics."
He leans over and reads. "Hmm. Interesting."
He looks around and then motions towards the edge of town, towards the road. "Here, maybe we should make sure I am out of ear shot."
He talks quietly as he begins, though nobody is close by. "That's very disturbing. As I recall, you said the curse only left you mute, but hasn't affected you in any other way. Now suddenly we have what happened during the exorcism and now this."
"It's evolving."He concludes, almost to himself.
When they reach the low brick wall near the statue, Theron looks around a bit to ensure nobody is close by and then sits, motioning for her to join him.
"Tell me about these compulsions. What do you feel they want you to do specifically?"
Aska follows along silent. She had come to the same conclusion, but she knew she couldn't fight this alone. Upon reaching the statue she sits next to Theron, pulling up her book to write more.
"Its not necromancy, if that is what you were thinking... Its a dark summoning ritual. Bits and pieces pop into my head, but I can't figure out who or what it summons."
Theron reads a moment and lets out a sniff. "No, I figured it wasn't necromancy. Bad as that is, necromancy just gets you zombies, flesh golems and idiotic immortals."
Straightening up again. "I didn't think we'd be so lucky with your situation. The veil thinning and Abyssals manifesting did something to you."
He thinks a moment. "The bits and pieces that you do see, have you copied them down anywhere? Or are they clear enough that you can transcribe any of it?"
"This might help us identify who is spurring this on in your mind. But we'll need to be cautious this doesn't indulge that compulsion."
She shakes her head and begins to write again. "I haven't written any of it down because I didn't want someone to find it and be stupid."
She pauses frowning then continues, " I can try to transcribe some of it, though it is just peices."
"Pieces help." He says after reading what she wrote. He slides his own book out of the holster he keeps on his belt. "In this, when you're ready."
"But, it doesn't need to be immediately. How are you holding up? I know this can be very unnerving. Even frightening. I appreciate you helping and being cooperative, but this can't be easy for you."
Aska takes the book with a nod. She smiles and stands, spinning to face him in a silent laugh she pats his head reassuringly.
"I'm not letting this control my life," she scribbles down and shows him.
Theron matches the smile some as she laughs, then reads her new note. "Hah. Well, that's very good to hear. It's not an easy thing to do for many."
"Your brother would be proud of your defiant nature." He adds.
Her face fell to a somber look at the mention of her brother. Sitting back down she lost herself in all of the questions of what ever happened to him.
"I'm sorry." he says as she sits down. A pause goes by as he thinks.
Shifting slightly to face her more. "My grandfather used to tell me whatever we feel about those that aren't with us is proof they haven't totally left." He frowns. "I know that might not be a comfort right now."
"I wish I could tell you more about the brother he was to us, but I did not know him well. He was always with different cohorts out on different tasks."
She scribbles in her book, " You know he taught me magic...well to control what I could do."
She pauses then continues, " I wonder what he is up to...or at least at peace."
"I didn't know that." Theron comments. Reading the second part he looked to her. "It's hard to say. When the attacks came, many of us were afield. That's why there are as many of us here as there are. The cohort here is really a cobbled together group of many small cohorts."
"I don't want to give you any false hope, but it is very possible he was also in the field and away from The Sword when it was attacked."
"If not, I'm sure your brother's spirit found peace. He had two families to choose from which where to rest." Theron joked lightly.
After a beat.
"How did he teach you to control your magic?" he inquired, curiously.
"Well at first he would just make me do a lot of different spells in the morning so I was to tired for the rest of the day to cast... Then we would sneak into my father's study and borrow arcane books."
She shows him what she wrote with a warm smile.
Theron smiled with his own memory cropping up. "Arcanist McCreary used to call that "Casting with weights on," He loved to wear us out until we had no mana left in us."
"A study full of arcane books? You must come from a line of mages. Did the rest of your family not know about your talents?"