The Overseer's tail twitched, raising its chin with approval when the young Valkhound responded positively to the shared lesson. It was one thing to accept such things on paper (or in mind), and another entirely to put them into practice, but there was another twitch of amusement through its whiskers when Obieth's magic reached back into its mind.

The touch of chaotic magic came with the faint, fevered whispers that it sometimes dreamed of in Draco, but those were barely noticable. Only notable due to Cain's recent brush with Aethril's magic tainting its magic, and nothing more. Compared to the sensation that pressed influence deep into Cain, urging the Overseer to see Obieth how she wanted to be seen, it was a single raindrop in a storm.

For a moment, Cain felt nothing but satisfaction. Obieth was a quick learner, and quick on her way to be everything the Overseer wanted and more: Perfection incarnate. No... She was already perfect. A blink later, and Cain understood that was mostly the magic talking.

It had further implications, that Oblieth explained in simple terms. Influence, a powerful thing. Powerful indeed.

Dangerous, too. Crimson eyes slipped casually back toward Aethril with a subtle twitch of its tail once more. That red gaze returned to Obieth, with a nod of acknowledgement.

Cain had its ways of influence, too, the magic it used to calm those around it with a magical scent, one of companionship and familiarity that rarely seemed to even cross one's mind as out of the ordinary. This mind magic-- applied strongly-- perhaps could force one's mind, or if used subtly, trick one for a while, but Cain suspected there were ways around it. After all, as Cain understood it was an outside prescence, it seemed simple enough to acknowledge and treat appropriately.

The Overseer was projecting confidence. It wasn't ignoring the danger, the possible threat, but for now that topic was filled away and treated with respect. Fear had no place in the discussion, even if it might have been healthy to have some concern over this particular chaotic magic.

For every magic you know, Cain's thoughts answered, there will always be more to learn. I will caution you against relying on your magic. As its Master always had. Chaos, your element, is especially erratic. It would be easy to backfire on yourself, or upon those you are trying to protect. Never neglect your own cunning and strength to pursue it. Obieth was a slick, armored panther, and a lot of situations would need little more to solve the issue at stake.

Be wary, the Overseer continued, for your enemies will have their cunning too. Magic you have never seen before.

With that, Obieth would find herself robbed of her own body. Momentarily, perhaps, she would be forced still as a statue. "We'll start with something basic. I won't harm you, so don't panic," somehow, Cain expected its feline protege to be above panicking (probably the magical Influence), despite its own terrible body-snatching experiences. Cain shut Obieth's eyes, and then with a flap of its wings, took to the air.

You will have only an instant to react, Cain continued, so be ready. It flew up high into the air, and swept around in the sky, keeping its focus on holding Obieth still-- unable to ready its muscles to react, unable to see.

Then it dove, swooping down toward the earth once more as its magic released Obieth. The dive gave it speed, and Obieth would indeed only have a couple of moments to see what was happening and act.

It wasn't diving for Obieth, though. Instead, it was flying straight for Aethril. While it had no intention of hurting the Hand (it liked being alive and getting bowls full of milk,) the goal should have been obvious to Obieth. Stop it before it reached her.

And if Obieth failed, they would simply have to try again.

If Obieth blasted Cain out of the sky with some magic, well. Cain would survive, really. It might hurt, but it would be worth it to assess the Valkhound's reflexes and quick thinking.

@Obieth @Aethril for visibility

The words trickled back in, a nectar in their own right--sweet knowledge, experience granted without the struggle that should have been required to earn it. As before, she held these words and considered them, plucking meaning from them as she saw fit, tucking away the parts that she found valuable, and remaining tentative on the ones that were--to her--unproven.

The Overseer's true voice struck her from her reveries, her eyes blinking, the hollowed structures of her ears rotating briefly back. Then her blinking eyes--closed, her ears freezing in place, and horror gripped her. If it wasn't panic, it was the razor's edge before it. In that instant Obieth found something she valued very, very highly: control. Brief and unexpected terror flared, and outrage followed closely on her heels--Cain was now gone from her mind, but her thoughts were a deafening roar. MY BODY IS MY OWN!

She almost didn't hear its instructions, so harshly was she fighting against its control--and when that control was released, she had only that fraction of a second to react.

Her body came upright in reflex, a coiled spring bouncing to its feet, one paw in the air--eyes picked the diving hybrid from the air, darted along its path--Aethril.

Cold fury lashed from her, her tail echoing the sentiment behind her.

The Overseer's advice, only moments ago, not to rely upon her magic was already forgotten: her magicka lashed out, corruptive chaos sweeping to engulf it, to jerk it from existence, to render its body and its magic powerless before her.

Teal gaze swept to Aethril as the magic took hold. With luck, the hybrid would be in the Void, for a few moments. If she had had the presence of mind, she would have banished Aethril herself--let the hybrid crash into the ground, if it was intending an attack--but her strike had been on reflex alone.

"Please move, Mistress," she suggested, toward her Hand, her deep voice half-pleading and half-furious at this attack.

@Aethril for sure

Aethril was zoning out.

It turned out that trying to watch anything-- even an Overseer training your bodyguard --was a little difficult while you had some form of plague or another. The Hand should have been in bed, and currently, that was all she could think about. Plush pillows and thick blankets, the comfort of rolling over in soft furs and going back to sleep in dappled Voidlight leaking out of the window. Maybe sneaking Eggbert away from his duties to use him as an extra pillow while she slept.

She only came back when Obieth asked her to move. Aethril was not going to move. Not today, not like this, not with a thick, blanket-like cloak wrapped around her. Bleary eyes lifted and saw Cain coming towards her-- it wouldn't... --with wings spread.

Maybe it would. It seemed to be getting closer and Aethril went grasping for His magic but it didn't come to her-- was it the fatigue, the sickness, or something else? --and in silence, she watched the Overseer get closer.

What's the worst that could happen?

@Cain

Cain had just gotten through telling Obieth not to rely on her magic, so what does she do?

Banish a flying cat into Schrödinger's literal hellscape. As soon as Cain released its magic and those piercing, icy blue eyes locked on the threat, it was as though the entire world was snatched from Cain.

Like its very soul had been snatched and placed outside of its body-- a not entirely foreign experience-- and suddenly Cain was in a place of nothingness. There was no light, no air: Cain who had been in a perfectly controlled fall was suddenly lurching through empty space with no gravity or air, only its momentum, and that was enough to freak out its reflexes more than anything.

There was no right side up.

Wing beat at nothing, cutting through vacuum to hit its legs, sending it tumbling and twisting as its tail lashed to try and right itself against a perfect lack of orientation.

Its mind caught up to itself: it did still have its body, clearly, though the biting cold and absolute lack of light was a shock for the senses. It was somewhere... else. It must have been chaos magic, but then... There wasn't much time to process any further.

The world returned in a blinding flash (for Cain, at least, who's pupils had gone wide in a frantic attempt to see in the pitch dark), and with it the wall of air smacked it and its flailing wings, sending it tumbling.

It had never intended to attack Aethril, though the dive had been a mock attempt of pretend to spur its tutelage into action, but it had intended to at least land with dignity and grace. There was absolutely none of that as the soft ball of wings and cat-- approximately twelve whole pounds of it-- tumbled paws over head into Aethril's lap with a startled meep-squeak from the air being knocked from its lungs.

And then, as it lay half-stunned in the lap of the Hand, an bemused, rasping rumble of a laugh sprung up from its throat. "That almost kind of worked!" Unfortunately for Obieth, the goal it had put up was to keep Cain from reaching Aethril, but fortunately for Obieth, it hadn't specifically told her that detail. She had interrupted its attack well enough.

It was a start, anyway.

@Obieth

She had intended to hold the spell long enough to get between them--but somehow, for some reason, it broke early. Irritation flared through her, flicking her tail and moving her from her stalk to a too-late dash to get between them.

"It was meant... to keep you there," she growled, and then glanced Aethril's way. "I told her... to move." There was a petulance in her, a faint irritation--in her mind she'd done everything right, but somehow it had ended poorly just the same. It did strike her that maybe "told" was not as good as "asked" and her sidelong glance at Aethril was a wary one.

"...Asked. Warned," she corrected herself slowly, albeit without all that much context.

She took a breath and tried to push past her childish annoyance. Things weren't always going to work out as she'd planned--she knew that, realistically. She'd need to adapt more quickly next time.

Tail-tip flicked behind her, and she looked back to Cain. They had warned not to rely on her magic. She was, though, just now remembering how infuriating it had been to be controlled--to feel muscle and tendon move without her own consent. "Don't do that," she said, flashing him a brief glance, and her velveteen hackles rose along her back and tail. She hadn't liked that one bit. But close on the heels, she asked a question: "What was that?"

Never mind their rank--in that moment, she (whoops) forgot it.

@Aethril

Aethril blinked, and in that time a lot seemed to happen.

At least, a lot through the lens of someone still thinking about being asleep. Obieth asked her to move (which she did not do), her spell failed, Cain vanished, and then Cain re-appeared and toppled over into her lap. Obieth was furious, and Cain was laughing. Aethril, in wake of these events, blinked a little unevenly.

She picked up Cain the way someone would cradle a humanoid infant and idly itched into its chest with her fingertips. "Magic is... fickle," she was then advising through a rasping throat, damaged from a night of coughing. "Particularly ours. It won't always obey, it won't always do what you want it to. Sometimes it'll turn on you instead."

"You," and her tone was patient. A teacher to a student, gently correcting, "are perfectly designed. You are faster than the Overseer. You could kill them in one bite. Your paws could break the fragile bones of his wings. These are features to rely on-- they're reliable, and they won't fail you."

The Hand ruffled at the Overseer's chest before loosening her grip to let them move away, and she was leaning back into the bench. Her arm, enveloping back into her cloak, lifted over her nose as she began to, what sounded like, cough up her lungs. She ached for lemony syrup, hot tea, even just a soothing sweet.

A rasping breath. "It'd also do you well to remember who you're speaking with," Aethril went on, but there was no real scolding in her tone. It was largely unclear if she wasn't all that bothered with Obieth's tone, or if she was just too tired to care. "Overseer Cain deserves as much respect as I do."

Perhaps not as much, but Aethril's mind was already elsewhere-- specifically, trying and failing to push itself into the mind of an Ivory Deer.

@Cain

Aethril spoke while Cain was still composing itself, cradled in her soft, delicate and yet mesmerizingly powerful fingers. It could not help but stretch as her nail scratched an itch it didn't know it had upon its chest, craning its neck to inch those fingertips into the perfect spot. Its magic flared, letting its intoxicating scent soak into Aethril's fingers, encouraging her to continue. Don't stop, keep going, right there, right there, yessss--

It did its best to listen, it truly did. It was a bit distracted, admittedly.

The Overseer didn't even mind that Aethril spoke about it as though it was a weak, fragile thing. Cain was aware of its flaws, but its whiskers twitched: was Obieth faster than Cain? Could she truly catch it before it was out of reach? Doubtful.

For Obieth's confidence, it would allow the comment. Better for the guard to be self-assured.

Aethril released Cain, and though reluctant, the feline twisted on to its paws, pressing perhaps too much weight on to her thigh as it angled itself upright and spread its wings. Aethril reiterated that Cain deserved as much respect as the Hand herself, a statement that felt exagurated for its sake. It hopped down with a flutter of its wings.

"I assure you," Cain spoke plainly, "I would not harm Aethril. That was a mere test of your reflexes and your reaction time." Its tail twitched, rising up behind it like a flagpole.

"As for the magic," it would allow Obieth's curiosity, "that is my influence. You will remember that you cannot predict what your enemies are capable of, that there will always be a magic or application of it that you may overlook. The same goes for non-magic, as well, but most in the cave rely on magic as a crutch." And Cain stared down Obieth, with a look that demanded of her that she take Aethril's words to heart and not make the same mistake.

"I have magic that can spy on you and Aethril from afar," Cain went on, "I have shown Aethril this magic. I have magic that can pry into your mind, and magic that can control your blood. I even have a magic that can put my consciousness directly into your body and control it remotely, and were I to paralyze myself first, you would be helpless to stop it." All of this information came freely, as Cain knew that nothing in the world would make it turn against Master Vargas or any of the Hands above his station. This explanation was a show of good faith, and one that would allow Obieth to contemplate what their enemies may be capable of.

The Overseer inclined its head. "And this is only what I am capable of. There are thousands of other creatures with thousands of other minds and talents. Now, if you do not want me to use my blood-magic upon you," Cain spoke clearly, "Then you will lose the opportunity to learn how to counteract it." Of course, Obieth might have been more willing to deal with the discomfort had she known it was coming, but part of that surprise, of dealing with the sudden unknown was a lesson it wanted to impart on her. She would not always be prepared for a situation.

Still, it would admit. It was a difficult thing. To face something that made one uncomfortable. Cain's skin still crawled at the idea of body-swapping with another creature. But desensitizing Obieth seemed crucial to her future success. "But if you are not ready, we can instead focus on dealing with other magic or forms of attack you will need to be prepared to fight against."

With that, Cain settled back on its haunches, and allowed Obieth the opportunity to decide what she wanted to do. It seemed important to the winged feline that Obieth shaped her own training to some degree: to keep the fellow cat interested, by giving her some influence over what she learned and how.

@Obieth

To her credit, as the frustration bled down, her sense of respect for her comrades here drew higher than her sense of self-importance, her pride. "Sorry," she said, though there was still a faint hiss in it; but she was. She hadn't meant to be disrespectful.

She wasn't experienced, really, with her own emotions at all.

"But I don't like it." Petulant, maybe, but...

She listened to Cain, but she found herself puzzled by its words, tail flicking behind her--the bulb at the end now glowing bright teal, though why was anybody's guess. As she concentrated on Cain's explanations, struggling to pick out meaning and remember it as they rattled from topic to topic quickly, she did manage a vague mental summary.

"So... you do not want me... to rely on magic," she began to summarize: "-because there is a lot of magic and I can't learn it all... or know what to expect. And you can control others. Yes?" she asked, peering between them. But there was a puzzlement to her face, a furrowing of that almost skeletal or metallic brow.

"But... Aethril says I can... kill you with my body. And you use magic." She was not, in fact, arguing--though to some it might have seemed like it; she was just trying to puzzle out this apparent contradiction between theory and practice. "Without magic... how do I protect her... from things that can kill me?"

It seemed to Obieth that she could easily control or simply banish even the most deadly opponents with her magic--whereas, in a world of monsters, her body would be worthy against only a very few.

Thoughts ran a circle, and she picked at something else that Overseer Cain had said. "If you paralyze my body... with magic. And take it over. And I am helpless," she struggled to reason, "-then can I still use magic?"

It almost seemed like the argument Cain was making was heavily weighted in favor of magic, despite their assurance that it was not.

Somehow, given the choice between practicing against that horrible control, or ignoring it, Obieth felt less inclined to avoid it altogether. Cain was skilled, in that--in subtle (but wise) manipulation of essentially a childish mentality. They did not tell her "no," they made an offer, and it was one she (begrudgingly) knew she'd take.

"If not with magic... how do you fight... the control?" she asked, though her mind and even body were already rebelling against the thought of trying it again.

@Aethril

@Cain (viv said to go ahead & skip aethril)

Obieth was, in the end, an attentive student.

Approval ticked her confidence, bristling her whiskers and nearly prompting a purr (that thankfully didn't come). With slitted eyes she listened to the Overseer's advice, and made her own mental notes: not everything they said was taken to heart, but she turned all the words over in her mind nonetheless. Some of it would become lessons directly as Cain had explained them; others would have little mental notations, questions, or be shifted this way or that to suit her own imagined strengths and weaknesses, and her own (sometimes ignorant) opinions.

But it was a learning experience. How and when to be aware, and prepared for anything. How to move unseen, with magic or without (something she imagined herself rather good at, but really could use practice with). Homework, too, to memorize every inch of the palace: to take note of escape routes and hiding spots, and dead ends into which to funnel intruders for capture or for slaughter.

It left the wicked young cat with a great deal to consider.

exit post due to inactivity