There - a column of mist. It wasn't enough to form anything substantially large, but it was a starting point... something to work with and build upon with more mist and simpler magic. A strong base, if you will.

Azizos released his grip on the atmospheric pressure in the same beat as he reached for the molecules of water suspended in air. He passed along the mere suggestion that they should cool off further, first into a malicious freezing fog and then glimmering ice crystals altogether.

As it turns out, though, a solid few meters of fog condensed into a bit of ice not much larger than a foot tall at its point.

"Hm," he chirped as he circled it. At least it was another five-foot wide disk.

Svartis stared in wide-eyed wonder as, indeed, the lion-stag conjured ice from not even a breath. Sure, he had to form a mist first, but... Azizos's chest didn't swell once with that barely contained magic, and he did not seem impeded by frozen nerves in his teeth or deadened feeling. It was completely external.

But, the ice-spire was pathetic, and he said as much in a surprisingly mild, not-teasing tone: "it sucks."

Azizos opened his mouth to protest, but the dragon was already lurching up again - to both show off and attempt to form something without his breath. Completely on instinct, he inhaled deeply; and promptly exhaled with no effects. This was something new, something different. An alternative take on this magic.

He tried to imagine that he was breathing at the ground, but kept his jaw shut tight.

Crystals fifteen-feet high formed before him, ramping up and up like a crashing wave. Svartis grunted in surprise, shuffling back a few feet and nearly tripping on his first disc. His head throbbed with the magical expense, but he marveled at the sight. Not a single breath taken or spent on that. Ice simply manifested.

"It sucks." "Well -"

And up came fifteen feet of ice. Way to show off! Azizos thought with no small amount of amusement, trotting forwards to inspect the glimmering precipice. Silvery eyes flickered to each of his tiny reflections in the spire, then to Svartis. His tail flicked limply behind him, an eager glint in his eyes, "see? No need to breathe."

Oh, I know what would be funny.

The lion-stag meandered beneath it, and emerged from the other side... twice. It was completely casual, the two doppelgangers standing side to side. Azizos the Tangible spoke as the second one continued to explore the ice, casual as one can be seeing through two sets of eyes, "magic has many different forms. This particular kind seems to have a surplus. Breath, and simply conjured." Ears pricked. "Does your family all breathe and work with ice?"

His gaze drifted down ("No need to breathe.") and he considered for a moment, but... "it feels - wrong." It felt wrong not to feel that swell against his ribs, the biting cold he was so attuned to, the ache of his jaw and lungs after a particularly long bout.

"Does your family all breathe and work with ice?"

Svartis finally looked up, briefly snorting in confusion at the presence of two Azizos's. "Uh, no..." he croaked uncertainly, gaze drifting between the drifted copy milling around and the one that'd just finished speaking. Snout snapping shut, he... just ignored that second one to avoid too much brain-blasting. "My dad and sister both breathe fire - and my sister makes these little glowing blue fires that aren't hot."

Absently, for a moment, the dragon urged the creaking ice-wave to stay forever, permanently frozen as a fixture in Polaris.

meant to cast telekinesis but it doesn't matter anyways orz

"Wrong... or different? It's alright to be unfamiliar with things," he assured, "and to be more comfortable with what you know." Azizos would go so far as to hazard, "I'm certain that you might be more precise with breathing ice than simply making these massive blasts. My father argues that precision is better than brute force." Silvery eyes drifted up. I would argue that sheer power is sometimes more beautiful. Truly dazzling.

He bit his tongue to avoid breaking out into laughter at the abject confusion, offering a mild introduction of "this is my twin brother." On cue, the drifted copy lifted its head and smiled softly before vanishing back into nonexistence behind the ice. "Not really - though I do have one." The potential for humor...

Azizos stared idly at the wave, trying and failing to wrestle a more inconspicuous chunk from the base for later inspection. "I wonder if they could muster fire without breath, too. Certainly more brutish and without restraint in the air, but... it is something to consider, if you're looking to protect yourselves?"

Being comforted by familiarity was a given, and Svartis had good reason to be spooked by uncertainty, but it... wasn't a terrible idea to explore other uses of his magic. More unfocused and imprecise methods might be best with larger beasts. He could trap the Alpha and its Overseer in such a wave of ice, leave them vulnerable to attack... be as terrifying a foe as Dread and his gouts of flame were. Icy eyes lit up.

He stared in continued muted confusion at the drifted copy, scuffling to peer behind the frozen wave and finding no such twin brother in existence. Completely gone. A trick of the light, then? Out of mere curiosity for any further clones... "It wasn't really a second you?" Head tilting, he pressed, "you... wouldn't be able to cast magic through it, would you?" Code for should I scared of clones?

Svartis just shrugged idly at the mention of fire beyond the mouth, things ignited from afar. Unaware of his father's recently-acquired ability to immolate, the dragon didn't think too much on it. "Maybe?" He shook himself off, eyeing Azizos as he fiddled with... something, "my dad is strong, but my sister sets herself on fire a lot." That put a smiling crease in his eyes, recalling, "I always have to put her out."

"You... wouldn't be able to cast magic through it, would you?"

Azizos hummed as if in thought, and shook his head, "no, I don't think so. It takes a great deal of focus, and it doesn't take my stone with it. If it were something that didn't come from me, perhaps, but -" I would have to experiment to find that out. Silvery eyes peered up. "It's not something to worry about, no. My copies don't have any feeling."

The lion-stag kept at his fiddling, ears twisting this way and that, focusing harshly on a different clump of ice. "Family's good to practice magic with. My brother and I balance one another out quite a bit, too. We learn from our fathers," he intoned warmly, "though -" Ah! A hunk of the permanent ice broke off, floating delicately in the air. So he could direct his gaze elsewhere, Azizos placed it on the ground.

"Though, my magic's far more dangerous than my brother's. He prefers plants and light."

Ultimately, duplicates weren't too much of a cause for concern - Svartis made the hasty decision that Azizos's uncertainty about line of sight was a roundabout way of saying no. Why not say "I don't think so" in the first place... The black dragon bobbed his head, then shook himself out. Issue solved, moving on.

He wing-walked closer to the wave as a chunk broke off, a brief, instinctively draconic sense of possessiveness swarming up through him. Thief, his thoughts urged, magicka up-welling like a flood, barely restrained. The air around himself condensed into a fog, rolling off.

But, Azizos was talking casually, not at all attempting to make off with the piece of ice. Simply depositing it on the floor, and proceeding.

"Your magic is not ice?" Svartis began, icy eyes roaming back down as frosty breath whistled through his teeth and snout, "what are you doing with that?"

If only either of them remembered all that talk of fissioning.

Seeing Svartis draw up, telegraph magic, though, reminded Azizos of that deep-seated prey instinct in him. Silvery eyes trailed up, an involuntary crouch and preparations to spring away. Mane puffing out, ears pinning back, he stiffened at the first question. "Not... often," he began, trying to make his steps away as inconspicuous as possible.

The lion-stag straightened, grasping blindly for and failing to find the piece of ice and speaking quickly, "I'd like to... study it. I've never been able to make ice as... dense and impervious to melting as this." Silvery eyes darted around, "perhaps, my father would know better how it works and how to practice your magic more easily?" An offering in return, surely... ?

Azizos was cowering.

Svartis backed off immediately, uncertain of how much he liked being in that seat of intimidation. His fins rattled as he shook that freezing air off of himself and deliberately made himself smaller. Slinking carefully towards the wave, he distracted himself with his magic and murmured, "sorry. I don't mean to be a terror of the skies and land."

Icy eyes drifted across the glimmering face. "I can just make another bit. You can keep that and... look at it with your dad, or something." He straightened, jaws parting just-so to beckon another crystal structure into being.