Pride stepped delicately toward Polaris, his head canted a little as he listened to Amras. Ahead, he knew, the Spire would be shimmering, glinting, crackling with magic--and, in his mind, with the promise of new knowledge.

Amras had told him of being touched by a foreign consciousness, and of new magic glimmering forth in multiple Gembound all at once around the same time. He had feared it--but Pride had thought that perhaps the strange mind that had touched the gryphon's was in fact the mind of the Spire itself.

Was it sentient? Could it think? Was it in need of aid, perhaps?

He had touched things before to see brief and distant memories of them, and he wondered if perhaps the same could be used now. Too, he was able to link his mind to another's; would he find, if he reached out to the great blue crystal, a mind awaiting his?

Could it be?

Excitement impelled him, one ear toward Amras and one toward Polaris. His dainty steps held energy, an enthusiasm that hastened him along.

This could change everything.

@Amras

For the first time in... well... actually for the first time in his life Amras found himself walking through the long tunnels toward Orion with a new friend at his side. An inquisitive deer and a friend to the child he had once tried to help through their youth. Of course, that child was grown now and so was this deer, but still he thirsted for knowledge with a fervor one might expect from the young.

To pass the time on the way the gryphon had told the story of meeting the Blacksmith, gesturing for emphasis as he continued to tread upon two paws. To set up the tale though, to provide context for just how it had affected him so, he first had to set up the context of what had happened before. With such a long walk moving from one room to another though he doubted that Pride would mind.

He told of his three full cycles of isolation in Monoceros, tossed and battered about by the eternal winds right after hatching before making a life for himself. How surreal that period been, uncertain and mostly unconcerned if he was a unique being in this world! Everything had been perfectly dark in those days, the only light he would ever see came from his gem when he sent shockwaves into the rock wall as he tunneled to create a shelter from the respected winds of his world. He told of the first day of renewed light where in the morning he met a dying Li, learning about the existence of others and both the good and evil they brought to the world. Then finally he told of the encounter that very evening with a figure who inspired awe in the gathering of greater ones around.

It had called itself both Blacksmith and Painter, for upon the tunnel walls it had constructed a scene by infusing a modified form of light magic into the rocks. This had shown him that magic was more than waves of force but could be shaped into different forms. Amras had tried to replicated it but, while he realized that twisting his energy magic could produce light magic it was in a form that was long-lasting and tiny rather than covering a huge area temporarily. The Blacksmith had taken note of this and offered to teach them some of the spells it knew, which were apparently simplified versions of the kinds of enchantments needed in their main occupation.

"Oh, the story itself had some interesting insight in it, actually." the gryphon continued to regale as they set foot into Polaris and continued their trek toward the Spire. "Ostensibly it was about two blacksmiths who had a contest near a river to determine of who had made the best weapon. I think it ended up with both being able to slice floating leaves with ease but the evil smith's sword sucked in and flayed fish while the good smith's sword was harmless to the innocent or something like that. More interestingly though both characters in the story were gembound of a species that I'm pretty sure has gone extinct from these caves. Human, furless creatures that walk as I currently do and who- I would guess by their appearance and skill with creation- resided in the ruins of Orion."

---

Pouch 1: Baubled talc rods x12	Pouch 2: Charcoal dust (50 in3)	Pouch 3: Dried Mothers Tear mushrooms (25 in3)	Pouch 4: Charcoal chunks x7 (medium)
Back bag: Empty

Take hold of the power within
"And shape the fabric of reality around you"
tags: @Pride
notes: None

Pride had listened with rapt interest as Amras spoke, filing away his questions and speaking only when the gryphon seemed completely finished. Too, he had made mental notes that he shared with enthusiasm.

"I had not heard of this--Monoceros, with its winds. I must visit it. Truly, there must be much of this world I have not seen! Many caves... I ought to spend some time exploring," he reflected thoughtfully.

"There was a time, then, when all was dark? Did the Gembound of the cave create these lights, then? -You had said you were, what, ahh--some twenty-something cycles old, yes? And this cat of which you speak--I think that I know her. I have seen her, once, with Envy--but you say that she was dying..?" Pride glanced quizzically to Amras as they drew further and further into Polaris. Had the gryphon saved Li's life somehow? "And these--humans? Human?" for Pride did not know the proper plural. Somehow, with furless and upright, he was picturing fish with long arms and legs that strode about as Amras was, their furless bodies glittering with silver scales. "They were Gembound? What killed them off, do you know?" He considered the ruins of Orion, and why they might have been formed. Shelter, perhaps..? Territory boundaries? If they were very small, each building might have housed a family's hunting grounds--rat-eaters, perhaps?

And blacksmiths, hmm? "Do you know where this Blacksmith--this Painter--is? I would be curious to speak to him, perhaps to delve into the magic myself."

So occupied, Pride did not notice that they had drawn nearer the Spire until he was virtually beneath it. Once close enough he paused, eyeing it, and cast out tentatively to see if he could sense a mind, and thoughts, within. As often happened in Polaris, though, he felt himself struggling to get a grip on his magic, and for a time, he stood quiet as he focused on it, awaiting Amras' responses.

@Amras

"Even the oldest gembound I have encountered seemed to indicate that he lights have always been there, but no one has asked the ancients about them before to my knowledge." the gryphon replied as they neared the spire, the fur and down feathers across his skin standing on end from the raw magic potential pressing in on them. "The sparring partner I told you about earlier told me once that the loss of light was probably due to an evil ancient named Nimean. At the very least she was responsible for the second great darkness."

Hopefully there would be no more. The wolf was spending more and more time in this room lately keeping watch over the generator. He always did have a drive toward heroics so he probably considered it his duty to keep the lights safe.

"Li is a strong one, surviving the care of a ‘parent’. I don't really know the details but she was badly burnt and dehydrated when I ran into her on that day."

Amras had to slow his pace at this point, with even the full feathers lining his wings puffing out at this distance. "The Blacksmith resides somewhere... else. Somewhere that isn't connected to any of the known tunnels. It's possible that humans still exist wherever they are from and just migrated away for one reason or another. The ancient didn't seem to regard their presence in the story as anything special."

His stomach churned as he could almost feel the alien visitors freaking out about the ambient magic. His head spun and vision blurred so much that for just a moment he was worried he might fall into his subconscious again like what had happened with the spider. The thought crossed the gryphon's mind to try to eject some of the magic energy with spellcasting, but at the same time the build phase was so ingrained in his methods he was afraid if it failed it would fail catastrophically.

Another deep breath, his body was acclimating slowly. It was still uncomfortable, he still would much rather be a bit farther away from this monstrous source of magic, but he wasn't in danger of succumbing to malady now.

Pride seemed to have gotten the hand of the environment admirably quickly, and by the distortion in the forces around them Amras surmised that they were working on a spell. Eyes narrowed as though trying to actually see the flow of the magic... though of course that could never happen with the way most gembound cast magic and even if it were possible the overwhelming force around would make it difficult to filter out from the background noise.

'Mind?' his thoughts prompted, not nearly so certainly as they had with the youth of earth around whom the ground had trembled.

---

Pouch 1: Baubled talc rods x12	Pouch 2: Charcoal dust (50 in3)	Pouch 3: Dried Mothers Tear mushrooms (25 in3)	Pouch 4: Charcoal chunks x7 (medium)
Back bag: Empty

Take hold of the power within
"And shape the fabric of reality around you"
tags: @Pride
notes: None

Pride tightened his jaw in focus as he worked at his spell. At first, he was distracted by the idea that the lights had always been there, and was about to interrupt--to ask if Amras had not said a moment ago that they'd been out--when the gryphon explained further. Ahhh, so that explains it--the physical lights themselves were there? He thought, for a moment, about this Nemean--whether he hadn't heard the name somewhere before--but he could not entirely recall. He committed it to memory for future reference nonetheless, exhaling through flared nostrils as he concentrated.

"A parent?" he asked, by way of conversation. "I have heard that word--this does not sound like a very good parent." A sombre glance toward Amras, expression serious at the idea of a mother or father abusing or neglecting their child--and then he turned his gaze back to the Spire.

"I am going to try and contact it directly, with magic; are you able to do this, as well? Perhaps you can simply ask it if it attempted to contact you." He hesitated, unsure if his link was open--the magicka ebb and flow all around was a powerful tide, and he honestly wasn't sure if he had connected with anything, or not. Hell, for that matter, he had no idea if the Spire was even contactable, sentient.

This was but a hypothesis.

Err--hello? he tried, his mentality tentative, and polite, but his magicka surging--though it was not a consistent spell. He could feel it fluctuating powerfully; magic in this place was always so damned difficult to maintain at a steady level, despite all of his practice here. Is this the Spire?

@Amras

The magic waxed and waned for a brief second as the poor fool reached out with paper psyche toward the swirling energies of the spire. Still it pushed, still it tried to link its fragile mind to that brilliant light. As soon as contact was made though it would be too late.

In an instant everything stopped. There was no sight, no sound, no hot nor cold. The very concept of time was gone and with it any ability to feel a sense of self. Chaos, endless chaos, twisting and turning and splitting the paper into endless pieces before spitting it out in all directions. There was water and bone and wind and fog. There was rock and vanity and bloodlust and fear. There was life and death and that which should not be. Endless eternities, years and millennia, or perhaps only mere seconds passed in this egoless state spread across the known world before it encountered something different.

Pain. Loneliness. Insufficiency.

So concentrated were these feelings, so ubiquitous that they cut through the chaos of shattered existence. It was as close to hell as one could possibly imagine but it was consistent. It was order.

Bit by bit, piece by piece, the shattered pieces collected along the unseen purgatory that existed all around them, not just in concepts but the physical spaces it might hazard a guess.

Far above a place of return? But there was only empty space.

Deep below where bones reach out in agony? Never would it harbor peace.

There! Near the chaos a monument of mantra. A single phrase to keep order in the madness.

ɦąƮƹȡ Łɨąɨȿƹ; ą Ʈƹɲ ρɦɨ ąɲƮɨȿ Łƹƹř

Gather, oh shattered soul for the eternity reaches an end!

ɦąƮƹȡ Łɨ ą ɨȿƹ; ąƮƹ ɲρɦɨ ąɲ ƮɨȿŁƹƹř

Could such flesh still be warm, could that heart still beat?

ɦąƮƹȡ ȿɨ ą ɨƹŁ; ɦƮƹ ɲąρɨ ȿɨ ąɲƮŁƹƹř

Reach out, my tortured self! Return to existence!

ȡƹąƮɦ ɨȿ ą Łɨƹ; Ʈɦƹ ρąɨɲ ɨȿ ƹƮƹřɲąŁ

Touch the mind, I cannot die. Become the mind for death is a lie!

DEATH IS A LIE; Ʈɦƹ ρąɨɲ ɨȿ ƹƮƹřɲąŁ

@Pride

For some somewhat-gruesome concepts

When a creature is struck in the gut, it may flee, bloodied and in pain, stumbling for some frantic safety. When it is struck, though, so hard as to kill it--in the brain or perhaps the heart--it falls. Perhaps its limbs stiffen, kicking out; its neck twists back, eyes wide, lips peeled into a grimace. Its mind is already gone, the body going through those final throes; or it is the body that is gone, unresponsive in the shock of death to the frantic inner workings of the terrified brain.

This was how Pride reacted now.

One moment he was standing placidly enough beside Amras; the next he had fallen heavily to the ground, his white flank impacting dark stone with a thump, a single sharper rock cracking a rib and piercing the hide, antlers clattering against the floor. His legs jutted out, tight and trembling. His face was that of a dying thing, shock and absence both clear on it.

Wherever Pride was, it was not here.

By degrees--as death claims a body--he seemed to slowly go limp against the rock. But he was not dead; his breathing continued, shallow and quiet, his nostrils flaring rhythmically.

His mind had been shattered, a mirror crashing into spinning, glinting fragments that scattered into the darkness. He'd been everywhere, and nowhere; his very consciousness had, for a moment, been so overwhelmed and distant that he'd been--he had been not him. He had come back to himself quickly--or had it been forever?--and had found himself facing that lonely agony, the feeling of having failed. His own self had immediately felt as though he'd failed someone--had someone died?! Had he forgotten? He didn't know, he couldn't tell, but the chaotic whisperings in his mind... the nonsense words had been like a wound. Like blood, like hot flowing poison that clotted and coagulated, finally, into bleak and gruesome meaning.

Death is a lie. The pain is eternal.

Pride lay on the stone, only slowly coming back to himself, the feeling of the world around him somehow surreal. Pity stirred him, but did not make it, yet, past the haze of fear. He would, perhaps, try to figure this all out--once he was aware enough, again. But for now everything was a haze, a blank and foreign fog, as if nothing quite mattered. Nothing was real.

The phrase, though, as it had rung through his mind--this he clung to, gripped it as it tried to slip away into not-memory, holding it tightly with what little he had left.

This... This, he did not wish to forget.

@Amras

Amras shook his head in response to Pride's first question. He had no parent except perhaps the winds themselves, though even those had been harsh and unforgiving. He knew the concept and Li had attempted to fulfill the role with Envy by being a kind creature of greater power. Could there even be such a thing as a perfect parent? Could any entity be strong, reliable, protective, and compassionate all at the same time?

The humming of magic continued even as Pride ceased casting the first time. Obviously the static in the air was throwing the gryphon off. A passing fancy, the thought of being able to sense spellcrafting in others without context clues such as motion or light. There did exist types of magic that could detect stone and shroom and unseen life- perhaps there was some kind of magic that could detect itself? Certainly the existence of such a metamagic would open up some interesting possibilities.

"Be careful, friend. Magic is a beast yet untamed and we stand at the edge of its lair." he warned quietly as the deer turned to face the spire once more.

Then, in the span of a second everything changed. Amras watched in horror as the creature's body seized up, its inquisitive eyes replaced by a thousand mile stare. With the sudden lack of support it slammed into the ground, sounding out a nauseating squish and crack as strong bones buckled under its own weight.

"Pride!" he screamed out to deaf ears. No response. Were they even breathing? Oh thank the winds its nostrils still moved. Was this what he had looked like when the arcane coma had taken him? No, his collapse had been much more graceful. Then again his mass didn't interact the world in the way it should have. If his bones and blood had their full weight perhaps he would have broken his body back then in the presence of the spider.

Whatever the case was He couldn't leave Pride sitting here helplessly by the spire! It was entirely possible that he would wake up on his own, but what if the chaotic energies were trapping him within his own mind. What if he became stuck there indefinitely as his body rotted away? Usually moving a creature with broken form was the last thing you wanted to do, but he had to try to get them out of further harm's way.

Their breathing was becoming shallower. Were they dying? Curse the caves for providing no magic to stabilize life!

He couldn't act here; he had to get some distance. Amras dropped to four limbs and ran as fast as he could away from the spire of death, far enough to escape some of the chaos of proximity but not so far to be out of sight.

"Winds continue to flow and forces of the arcane hear my call!" he panted as wings flew back as he practically leapt back up into upright position with a twist. Unnecessary words, useless in casting, but if there existed any kind of sentience behind the magic of the caves surely it wouldn't hurt. Now was not the time for spellcasting to bite back on him as well. "Friends are too soon taken, help me deliver them from the maw of power."

Magic welled up within him, cycling from gem to mind in a turbulent stream. Light stone from his forearm starting off dim and white but very rapidly shifting to a brilliant purple hue. The building, the shaping, everything was being put together with intensity he'd never imagined. Usually he was much too pragmatic to cast magic this close to the spire.

A large tendril of ghostly purple energy rose from the gryphon's taloned hand like spider's silk caught in the wind. It bent and twisted the distance between Amras and Pride, enshrouding the fallen deer until solidifying into a violet aura around the target with a rope of light leading back to the caster.

Under full control of the telekinesis spell Amras mentally tugged at the line, lifting the large creature into that air and slowly reeling him in away from danger.

A snap, the magic in the area shifted. Within the course of a split second the purple line of arcane energy disappeared from the gryphon's hand. Pride was still surrounded by the magic aura though and the line was still intact, only now the other end was attached to the spire itself.

And Pride was yanked into full speed flying circles around the giant structure in a wide and fast orbit.

---

Pouch 1: Baubled talc rods x12	Pouch 2: Charcoal dust (50 in3)	Pouch 3: Dried Mothers Tear mushrooms (25 in3)	Pouch 4: Charcoal chunks x7 (medium)
Back bag: Empty

Take hold of the power within
"And shape the fabric of reality around you"
tags: @Pride
notes: None

All he wanted was to lie there for a few moments, to gather himself and his thoughts, and recover. As his breathing calmed, and his mind just barely began to clear, he realized that he could hear something in the distance--a loud drone, rising and falling, just beyond the fog of his shocked mind.

In a detached manner, unhurried, he tried to listen to it. The fog fell away, the voice piercing through, and abruptly--rather than a drone--it was sharp words. Amras, Pride thought, and though he was not blind, his mind wasn't quite taking sight in yet. He wasn't sure who the gryphon was talking to, and he was still unsure where they were or how they'd gotten here, but he tried to draw himself together.

And then he was flying.

He felt a sharp pain in his side as his body was lifted--by what? Some helpful force, intent on carrying him to safety? But then the world was spinning away, sickly-fast, and his sight returned only to fill up with the nauseating vision of flying rocks and crystals. It took him a moment to realize it was he that was flying, and with a terrified bleat the stag tried to scramble upright, with nothing to press his hooves upon. There was no surface below him, no sense of up or down, only a sickening spinning, a hell that threatened to drown his fragile mind-state. A brief scrabble for his magicka left him with nothing, no answer, no help. Am I trapped? he thought frantically, with what few thoughts managed to break through the near-blind panic. A brief memory of the sense of loss and failure, death is an lie, the pain is eternal, and a single pitiful thought--an orphaned idea in a vast, blank, dark world of near-madness--echoed through Pride's mind.

Is this forever?

@Amras

Amras winced as he felt mental control of the spell slip from his grasp.

"No! That is not what you're supposed to do!" he yelled ineffectively at the behemoth before him. Pride's fading body was in no condition to be yanked around like that. What's worse, if the power to that spell began to fade at all the deer would probably be thrown clear across the area surrounding the spire.

"Let's try this again." he mumbled, gathering magic once more. Had he only possessed the kind of strength his sparring partner did he might have been able to fly up there and snatch Pride away from the spire's grasp. To do so at his level of strength though would only succeed in sending them both to the ground. Energy, light, fire, electricity, pressure, water, animal, earth, plant, fungi, prokaryotic; none of those schools would be able to help in this situation. Only arcane had any chance of resolving this with minimal broken bones.

As the etheral purple thread began to form again movement stirred within the spell's target. Pride was awake! Had the spire's grasp on the telekinesis spell lifted its grasp on the other's mental link spell? Magic rarely acted consistently, perhaps this meant there was a temporal component and it was just in a grabby mood right now. Could it only grab onto one thing at a time though? Amras would have to act quickly to retrieve his friend if such were the case.

In a flash the strand shot forward and congealed into a visible purple light, catching the already lit-up deer as it rounded the orbit toward him. Wasting no time Amras mentally tugged on the connection, trying to use the momentum that was already there to break them free. The other line stretched and tugged but ultimately waned and collapsed in on itself, leaving the remaining projectile to rocket along the tangent toward the ground. The diagonal descent did slow before impact, but only slightly as it skidded across the loose soil below.

He couldn't afford to be any gentler than that. The longer he kept up the spell the greater the opportunity for it to backfire. Bone would heal but there was no telling how much damage leaving him at the spire's mercy would have resulted in.

"Pride! Are you okay?" Amras cried out once more as he dropped to four limbs and bolted toward the deer's landing zone.

---

Pouch 1: Baubled talc rods x12	Pouch 2: Charcoal dust (50 in3)	Pouch 3: Dried Mothers Tear mushrooms (25 in3)	Pouch 4: Charcoal chunks x7 (medium)
Back bag: Empty

Take hold of the power within
"And shape the fabric of reality around you"
tags: @Pride
notes: None