ORIGIN - Pristine

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"Well," Pride answered, thoughtful, "how about we begin with what you can do? Is it limited only to shadows?" he asked, as politely as he could. He was trying to imagine the various uses of shadows for guardianship, but was failing. It could, he supposed, be used to shroud and shield victims and fighters, or even Nassir if he could combine it with physical ability, but on its own...

"Do you know anything offensive? You can use me as a target," he added, calling briefly upon his own magicka. He saw no reason he couldn't use it as a shield, of sorts--energy held before him, ready to throw back whatever was hurled his way.

As he concentrated, he was gratified to see a faint shimmer, dome-like, appear horizontally before him. Good; it would function, and with work it could even, he thought, be strengthened. Behind him, his familiar sat up. ...Cool, she thought, and his own mind sent back amused agreement.

"There--I have a shield, of sorts, prepared, if there is any offensive magic you can use-?"

@Nassir

"I - can do some things. Move them - and see into the past," Nassir hummed, failing to immediately see the offensive potential in either of those things. His ability to move things was, at best, minor. Like the rest of his magic, it had little practice behind it. As far as he knew, that technique only allowed him to move things small distances.

Although - "I could - could try." - the dark beast considered. Even with a small distance (and within eyesight) of precise control, he could perhaps swing...

The quartz at the end of his tail buzzed with magic, the sensation crawling up his spine as his pale eyes fixated on a paw-sized stone. But, nothing. Not a single inch of movement. "Ah, no." His focus must have slipped, not operating too well under pressure.

@Pride

Pride let the shield disperse, and laughed, a little.

"Magic is not... reliable, I know. But if you can move things, that is a powerful offensive tool, or a defensive one. You could lift things to shield yourself, or lift others, and hurl them. Yes?"

Pride suddenly froze, for a moment, blinking at the realization.

At the implication.

"You know, I wonder-... I know we cannot lift ourselves, but--can we lift one another-? At the same time?" His tone was softly curious, and for a moment he focused on Nassir himself--on summoning up his magicka, letting it accumulate into a blooming sparkle in his mind, and sending it to wrap around the black cat.

"Let me-..." was all he offered in warning, his face scrunched up with focus. Then he moved that magic, aiming to lift Nassir just a couple of feet off the ground, so that his paws were just shy of the rock. "Can you lift me, now, in turn-?" Pride asked, tilting his head a little.

@Nassir

Nassir watched as the stag's shimmering shield seemed to disperse into nothing, a charming laugh dissuading any worries of failure. Unpredictable was certainly a word to describe magic. "I was thinking," he murmured, clearing his throat, "I - I could throw a stone at you." But, of course, the projectile focus was lost fairly quickly.

The dark beast found his paws scraping only air, ears flickering back for just a moment - mere apprehension at being lifted and attempting to reciprocate. He hadn't even been able to pick up a stone before, yet was to hold a living Gembound aloft. No pressure.

"I could try," he called from his place in the air, and focused on Pride, meeting silvery eyes for the first time. Much more successfully, magicka rolled from his stone, up his spine, coalescing around the pale stag and holding him aloft at about the same height as himself. Nassir did not want to chance any greater height, lest his focus slip abruptly. Muzzle crinkled up with focus, the leopard cheered to Pride, "that's it!"

@Pride

Pride's heart was already beating quickly at the idea of this new, scientific magic--but as his hooves actually left the floor, his legs instinctively swiping for footing that was no longer there, it began to positively race.

A gasp escaped him, and then laughter--honest and delighted. "By the caves! This is amazing!" he cried. Only very carefully did he set Nassir back down, afraid, this first time, to push the magic any farther. "Truly, imagine the possibilities-?" It felt strange to speak while... floating, so, but after another subconsciously-fuelled kick at the air, he went on. "I have been faced with unfathomable chasms, before--to think we could float one another over, without harm," he marvelled.

Silver eyes seemed to glow with enthusiasm.

"Well-! That can certainly be used to protect. To catch others who may be falling, or to lift a stone before them as a shield. I use magic for the latter--as a shield? It is very similar to what we just did," he added. "But you can use the throwing of stones, indeed."

He paused, taking a shaky breath, still elated with their new discovery. "Try holding--the air, instead of me. Hold space itself before you, as a shield," Pride added, and then focused, for a moment, himself. "I will send a light pulse of magic your way; see if you can use the same sort of thing to deflect it," he suggested. He paused, and then sent a light surge of magicka outward--a bit of force, enough to perhaps stagger the leopard--but certainly not throw him--should he fail to deflect it.

"-I hope I am not being too presumptuous? Tell me, if I am; I just rarely have someone to practice with," he explained, apologetic and cheerful both.

@Nassir

Laughter was said to be contagious, and Nassir was pleased to announce that he could prove that line of thought as perfectly accurate. Any anxieties held in his chest melted away with the confidence of discovery, learning, purpose. Experimentation seemed to be the way to go with breaking this poor cat out of his shell. Pale eyes lit up, marveling over the possibilities. "It's as if we're lending - lending each other wings," he called, paws steadying themselves as they met solid earth.

The dark leopard laughed, spotted flanks swelling. This, this felt natural. Real. Grounded. The fog of constant aimlessness and derealization sloughed off like an old coat. These small successes were doing wonders and Pride's enthusiasm was infinitely helpful. Nassir nodded, though furrowed his brow confusedly at the notion of holding air itself. An object within eyesight could, apparently, be lifted with focus. Something as intangible as air, though - he'd have to improvise. Telekinesis might technically be in a completely different school of magic, but it was the same idea - according to his current teacher.

Internally, he imagined that he was grasping thin air, like it was a thick web of cobwebs that must be torn down. Or, maybe, a thick shield of vines. It was a bit abstract and nearly fell flat on its face, but the air shimmered, seeming to condense into a shield that wobbled with the force of whatever minor pulse Pride had sent its way. Nassir watched as the shimmering wall dispersed, tail flicking. His face was most certainly arranged in a pleased expression.

"Ah, no - it's, it's fine," he piped up with a shake of his head, elated, "I've never properly pra-prah- practiced my magic. It's n-nnice." Confidence, here Nassir comes. "Any other ideas?"

@Pride

Pride's ears pushed forward, again, as his magic scattered harmlessly around Nassir's projected shield.

"Good!" he exclaimed, the enthusiasm still clear in his tone. It wasn't a patronizing cry; just excited, happy even. "It was like lending wings. If you lose something on a high ledge, do let me know," Pride added, with amusement.

At Nassir's question, he considered. "Well, there is a magic I find useful in terms of gauging the intentions of others. It can be useful to know if they plan to betray--or attack--and if so, how they will do so, before it is ever done. Have you ever tried this sort of thing--?" he asked, and then, pushing his magic for Nassir's mind, he added, Mind magic, like this? It was a brief and simple message, a one-way communication, with no prying or gauging involved.

Pride seemed willing enough to trust Nassir. But the question was a curious one, and the benefits of this type of magic were clear to him. It was a very useful weapon to have in one's arsenal: to know friend from enemy, before they even spoke.

@Nassir

Ah - validation. A sublime thing. Perfect. If Nassir happened to throw a ball and land it in a tree, he most certainly knew who to call. It was not the Ghostbusters.

Pride considered his question for a moment, then suggested a less physical use for arcane arts - telepathy and proper... y'know, mind magic. The white stag didn't particularly use the sort he described, offering a quick one-way message in his mind. Nassir licked at his chops for a moment, shaking his head gently, "no, I've not - not tried that." But it was worth a good 'ol college try.

Pale eyes fixated on his mentor's own, ears flickering back. Somewhere along the way, his magic - meant to be focusing on establishing a mental link - misdirected to his paws, hindsight flooding out of his paws and into the throne-platform beneath him. It was a... mental link with the past. Somewhat.

@Pride

It was the strangest thing.

One moment, Pride stood before him, calm, waiting, watching. The next, sound became strangely pressurized, as if the world, as if magic itself, were pressing in on Nassir's ears. Pride's color bled from white to a deep brown-red, his gemstone slipping lower, condensing, shifting blue. He was still a stag, but shaggier, heavier, rust-colored; and he turned, abruptly, and paced for the throne. His image was shockingly clear, and yet shuddered, jittering, as if with the aftershocks of echoing magic.

It felt not like looking into the past so much as being transported into it.

The stag stepped up to lay on the throne, and abruptly turned, looking straight at Nassir. "Let us get something clear, this is my domain and you are trespassing. Not only that but you are a trespassing carnivore and unless you are here to announce you want to serve me then I will be forced to put you in your proper place." It was not Pride's musical voice: it was harsh, angry, and deeply masculine.

The red stag's blue eyes narrowed.

And suddenly he was gone--his voice still ringing in Nassir's ears, but the present sweeping back in around him, and Pride stood back where he'd been moments before.

Caught up in the sudden vividness of the vision of the past - and briefly mistaking it for reality, Nassir stiffed. His eyes grew wide, breaths hitching as Pride seemed to peel away into a brutish-looking red stag, shaggy with cruel eyes, claiming a kingdom that was not his and demanding that Nassir leave or claim servitude. The muffled static of the outside world only exacerbated the anxiety clawing at his lungs and coiling about his windpipe. The vision was oppressive even after it ended.

The world came back to the present, and with it a cool sensation he belatedly realized was a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His tail flicked upwards, the quartz-end clicking softly against the stone where it had been limp. Shaking, quivering on the spot, Nassir laughed softly - an uncomfortable, uncertain noise. "That - thuh - that w-wuh-wasn't it..."

@Pride

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