vivala | Second Invocation

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Second Invocation

Literary Mystery (Vault)

While browsing the library, Rezo has come across a shelf he's yet to explore. He pulls out a random book, and soon realizes that there's something different about it. It's larger and heavier than most of the library's books and there's no writing on the front, although examining the spine he does find "Prayers to Hades," "4 VOLUMES," and "Volume 1" written on the side.

And inside, the book is unlike any he's familiar with. The pages are comprised of a stiff, thick paper, and instead of inked letters the pages are covered with innumerable embossed dots. A quick inspection of other books on the shelf confirms they're the same way: Dotted patterns on thick paper instead of regular writing.

After feeling them out for a bit he becomes certain that the dots are a code of some sort, though it would take him a while to decode it.

Or he could just ask the first available person.

"Excuse me," he says. "Do you know what this book is?"

Localized Magic (Vault)

Whenever Rezo casts a spell, he always casts it in his native language. Thus far this hasn't been a problem, but recent conversations have made him reflect on how tricky this might make teaching his spells to anyone else.

He has also recalled how the lost holy magic of his world was traditionally cast in the Draconic language.

Thus, Rezo has brought himself to the Vault training halls to do a little translation work.

"Oh source of all power, oh bright burning violet flame, take it and be my strength."

As he chants the Imperial words, a small ball of purplish, reddish fire forms between his hands, and at the end of the spell he launches it out at the target. The fireball flies forward and hits the top of the target and with a quiet fwumff sets it alight with a smokey fire. The whole target doesn't immolate, just the part that the fireball touched, although the fire is spreading at a very slow rate.

Rezo moves over to the target and cautiously holds his hand out towards the fire, checking the ambient heat.

Doctor's Appointment (Anywhere)

If you asked Rezo to describe himself he'd say he's first and foremost a healer, and on some days he might even believe what he says.

Regardless of his own opinion, Rezo does in fact spend a lot of time volunteering at the various clinics run by the Corsairs, treating various injuries and sicknesses with a mixture of magic, medicines, and a pinch of practical first aid and nursing techniques. If you've come to see him then you're probably at a Vault hospital, but he also often travels to Flotsam or Elysium to work at the clinics there- particularly after the assault on Flotsam before the great sea hunt.

Perhaps you're a walk-in situation, here with an unexpected injury. Or perhaps you've made an appointment in advance, or are even a regular visitor to the clinic Rezo's taking a shift at, or to his dorm at the Vault. Regardless of who you are, Rezo always starts off the appointment with a kindly smile and the question "How are you feeling today?"

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“I’m more or less all right, but my hands and shoulders have been getting stiff,” Deedee says. “Given how much I use those and need them for my brand of healing, I figured a checkup with you was a good idea.”

"Your work is primarily manual therapy, yes? When did you start noticing this stiffness?" Rezo asks, opening a mental checklist on joint issues.

"Yes, it is - massage therapy when it isn't magical healing. Started getting stiff about a week ago, business picked up for the Solstice holidays and a lot of middle managers paid for longer sessions."

Deedee presses her thumbs into her palms, searching for any points of tension on herself.

"I'm going to need these for after the new years celebration," she means patching up Corsairs after the mission by this, "so I really appreciate help staying ready for it."

"Allow me to examine your hands," Rezo says, holding out his hands for Deedee to put hers into. Assuming she does, he begins to feel about the joints of her fingers and wrist, poking at the muscles and tendons, occasionally wriggling or gently bending her fingers.

As he works, he says "It's a little early to say, but I suspect rest may be what's needed most. Would it be feasible to reduce your work load between now and the New Year's celebrations?"

Thomas looked forlornly up a ladder before deciding he really didn't need that book today when he spots the familiar mage. At the question, he gives a thoughtful hum as he examines the book - before giving a surprised little sound.

"Oh - that's braille," He replied quickly. "It's a kind of written language for the blind, I'm afraid I haven't run into this much in my work, but some of the librarians here are well-versed in it."

"A written-?" Rezo frowns slightly, clearly taken aback once Thomas's meaning properly registers.

In a way, it makes sense. This book is clearly meant to be read by touch, there's no ink to provide visual contrast between letters and paper. But he's surprised by the logistical implications of such a thing.

"I wouldn't have expected that there's enough of a demand for such a thing. But this isn't the only braille book I found."

"Unfortunately, getting blinded is - not an uncommon occurrence among the Corsairs," Vaulters having lab accidents, or just simply in the line of duty. "And we had blind outworlders before,"

Thomas rest his chin on his closed hand. "Perhaps written isn't quite the right word for it, but I suppose close enough. But yes, there's those who want to continue writing their research reports after losing their sight, or just simply read for the joy of it."

Nothing Thomas says is exactly shocking- Rezo knows damn well that people other than himself lose their sight, and he can fully understand why other blind people would want to read. It's just, when Rezo had wanted to read he'd had to develop a spell that allowed him to read printed text- even if he had come up with a tactile alphabet like this one, it wouldn't have been of much help if he was the only one who used it.

And any other blind people Rezo met would be swiftly cured of their disability, so they'd have no use for such a thing.

But of course Esthere didn't have a miracle working Great Sage wandering the lands, so it's logical that other blind people would have had to make their own workarounds.

Logic, however, is not keeping Rezo from being in stupefied silence for an awkwardly long time. He should say something before poor Thomas thinks he's lost his mind.

"Oh," Rezo says.

Excellent. The picture of eloquence.

"I guess this kind of thing isn't around in your world?" He simply asked, keeping the quiet from becoming rather awkward as he spotted a few books out of order on a nearby shelf, moving to shuffle them back into place.

"There's also books in larger print for those with poor sight as well... which honestly should be standard in my work," the amount of having to resend papers back because someone didn't read....

"...No, it isn't," Rezo says, turning the heavy book over in his hands.

"Before I was born, all the books in the world had to be made by hand. There weren't as many people who were literate either," Rezo slowly explains. "I grew up hearing the elders talk about how there were so many more books around than when they were young, how they were cheaper, and how the children were reading them better than they could."

He hadn't understood how they'd felt, back then. But bit by bit, his own world had changed- and now he's in another world entirely, and this book is far greater proof than anything else he's discovered thus far.

Rezo shakes his head. "Forgive me for getting carried away," he says. "And, ah, thank you for explaining this to me."

"Some of the older Elves still remember when printing presses were new," He added thoughtfully, as he finished placing the errant book back into place. "I honestly can't imagine a world where books weren't so easy to find - and that is with the Empire's suppression of immoral and treasonous materials."

"If the elves of this world live even half as long as the ones from my old world, then your printing presses have been around for a long time indeed."

Rezo thinks again on when he was young and what the elders had said, trying to imagine that world without printing. "I suppose it's a striking difference. And yet, I wonder if it really would be that different. People have a way of staying the same."

Rezo doesn't feel like he's changed much, anyway.

"I guess people will be people no matter where... or I suppose when you are." He gives a soft laugh in response.

Thomas pauses, as he glances up to the book he had wanted earlier - it's high shelf and the rolling ladder seem to be mocking him. "...How long do elves live where you are from?"

Lost in (somewhat maudlin) thought, Rezo remains oblivious to poor Thomas's plight. He's grateful for the question that helps serve as a distraction.

"Truthfully, I am not sure. The elves rarely interact with humans. But it takes about a hundred years for an elf to reach adulthood," he says. "Some stories claim that elves can live for thousands of years, but I think that's unlikely."

"Oh wow..." He trails off, processing that number - living that long. "Elves here only live a fraction of that, generally about two hundred fifty - the oldest ones I've heard of was about four hundred, only Dragons are said to live longer."

"As I said, I doubt the elves of my world truly live more than a few centuries either," Rezo says. "But they're so reclusive and mistrustful of humans, it's hard to say anything. I've only encountered them three times in all my life." And his life has been substantially longer and more eventful than the average man's.

It's fascinating watching how others employ their magic. Donnie hasn't been able to really watch people do it, not a whole lot, but whenever he finds the opportunity, he can't help but get a little caught up in it.

It's kind of like reciting a poem, he thinks, eyes widening at the beautiful flames that appear. He's seen Rezo do some pretty amazing things with his magic so even he can tell the resulting is a bit lackluster. The color had been nice at least..?

"That was longer than the things you'd say before casting in your language," he observes once the priest is inspecting the fire.

"If you're familiar enough with a spell you can forgo speaking some or all of the words out loud," Rezo explains. "But doing so sacrifices a measure of power and control."

He does a little gesture over the fire and silently casts aqua create, dowsing the flames with a small splash of water.

"-Though this fireball spell was not particularly powerful," Rezo continues. "Perhaps I need to refine the translation a bit more."

"I'm...not sure I understand. So do the words actually do anything?" It seems like Rezo knows these spells well enough to not need them.

"Why do you want to translate it when it worked out fine before?"

"Of course. Words are the easiest method of making one's intentions and desires known," Rezo explains. "And because of that, I thought the language barrier may be a problem if I try teaching my spells to any Estherians."

He takes a few steps back from the target, and continues, "...Truthfully I don't understand much about the relationship between language and magic myself. Where I come from, the vast majority of people speak only one language. Now that I have two available to me, I hope to fill in some of the gaps in my understanding by experimenting like this."

"Oh. Well...I guess when you put it that way it makes sense..." Although Donnie doubts that it'd work the same way for his constructs. It'd be more difficult to describe all the mechanisms involved. Maybe it's just for certain things?

"You managed to do that much from translating. Is...telling the spell what it's supposed to be, supposed to help give it shape? It doesn't seem like the magic itself has a language barrier though. So...the language part seems more for the benefit of the person wielding. ...right?"

"I believe so." Rezo hums thoughtfully. "In ancient times, the priests of my world would cast their spells in the Draconic language rather than the human tongue. When those spells stopped working..."

He pauses, realizing there's a huge chunk of history that he might need to explain if Donnie is to fully understand it. "Well it's something of a long story. To return to your question, I do believe that understanding the spell's meaning is important in properly casting it. You can't just toss around meaningless sounds and expect sensible results."

Donnie nevertheless looks interested as Rezo starts to touch upon however things worked in his world, perhaps a touch disappointed when he breaks off. He loves learning about new things, but he supposes it might just be digging a hole deeper for whatever else might have to be explained to supplement the original explanation.

"Hm. No, I guess not," he nods. "Is it for specific types of spells? I never really thought of a verbal element to casting, I just...do it? But then I don't think my use of magic is like what I've usually seen. I kind of learned on accident."

"Really?" Rezo's eyebrows lift in surprise, even though if he thinks about it he shouldn't really be too stunned. There are beings in his own world that can directly control magical energy without needing to use an incantation, and for a moment he wonders if Donnie is such a case- he's never asked what Donnie is, he's just aware the boy isn't a human.

"Could you perhaps demonstrate it to me?"

Is it so strange? Donnie has no idea. If there are specific rules to how magic was supposed be used, no one's ever told him, and what he'd tried to listen in on for the offered classes in the Vault hadn't made any sense to him.

"Sure?" he says, taking a step back as he considers what to do. Something simple, but at the same time with enough of its inner workings to demonstrate some level of complexity. Which sounds...completely the opposite of what he'd thought to do in the first place, but to him it makes some level of sense.

He envisions a portable heating unit. He's worked on them enough to know them inside and out, and it's how he constructs it in his mind, and between him and Rezo then. Bright purple light forms outlines, shapes of each part, from the inner workings until they're covered by the external panels that would hold it all in. And once it's completed, the thing generates warmth as would be expected of it.

With Rezo unable to see and with Donnie's magic being non-verbal, the creation of the heater is hard for him to observe. He has a general sense that something is happening, but it isn't until he feels a blast of heat that he has something to investigate.

Rezo crouches, reaches out his hand, and touches the heater. For a few moments he's quiet, just moving his fingertips around the heater, feeling out the shapes, withdrawing if he touches a part that's too hot.

"...What is this?" he finally asks. Because it feels like a machine of some sort.

He hadn't been completely sure how to show Rezo, much less how he'd see, but Donnie's considering things as he watches Rezo explore the mystically made device. Thankfully he doesn't have it powered too hot, and strangely enough the structure feels solid, smooth too the touch. Maybe too smooth. There's perhaps the slightest sensation of a hum, the vaguest of vibrations that sets it apart from something physical. It's made of active energy, after all.

"A heater," Donnie says, just recalling that Rezo only had so much exposure to machinery. "Sorry, maybe I should've done something else. -wait, I think I've got it. Hold out your hand."

What a peculiar creation. Rezo definitely has more questions about the machine and how Donnie made it, but he swallows them for now. Instead he tilts his head in Donnie's direction, obediently holding out his hand.

Donnie lets the other object dissipate, focusing on something smaller, deliberately piecing things together a bit more slowly so Rezo can get a sense of the progression.

He conjures up tiny pieces, gears, a spring, bearing no weight but still having definitive shapes and that same, subtle vibration. He continues to build around each piece, adding in layers until at last its entirety is encased in one final smooth layer, and beyond the silent hum of magic Rezo can perhaps still make out the moving parts within, and something very clearly ticks: a pocket watch.

Between rushing hither, thither, and yon, keeping in practice, considering a deep cover identity, and helping with the most recent mission, Natalia barely has a moment to herself.

And yet, as she listens and watches the incantation, she nods along, humming faint tones to herself. Magic held her interest before, but right now, Rezo has her attention. "So this is magic?"

"Hm? Oh yes, that's right." Rezo was already aware of Natalia's presence, but he wasn't fully expecting to be addressed. Still, it's a public training hall, so it's hardly a shock either.

"It's a variant of the basic fireball spell from my own world, and a work in progress."

"I see." Natalia tilted her head, teasing apart the incantation. "How is it going?

"Well. Aside from 'functional'. Congratulations in that regard." Now she tilts her head the other way. "It appears whoever the 'source of all power' is, they respond quite readily."

"They certainly do," Rezo agrees. "That is good, but this spell isn't equivalent to the one in my own language. I'm not yet certain why."

She pauses, and then, carefully, asks, "What are you trying to express? It may be a matter of connotation."

"The standard fireball spell should produce a ball of fire between the hands of the caster, a little larger than two fists," Rezo explains. "Once it's thrown and makes contact with something, it should explode and spread flames across a circular area of about eight feet. Of course, it can be made smaller and less dangerous, or more so, but I'm not trying to do anything unusual with it."

She hums. That's not quite what she meant, but she nods. "So... You're asking for the violet flame, and the spell produces it."

A mnemonic, perhaps? Or a call? She pauses. Her Inner Lotus is something she can just do now, but she thinks back to her training. "Perhaps... something instead of 'power'? Not strength, that implies something more physical. 'energy'? But that doesn't roll off the tongue as well, even if it's more accurate in this case... Or maybe instead of the front, the back...?"

"'take my offer, be my flame'?"

[[Not that,,, nonsense words like "Vas Grood" probably need it but nevertheless!]]

Rezo nods and listens along as Natalia speculates. When she comes up with a suggestion, he thinks over his own incantation and taps his chin.

"Hm. Very well, let's give it a go." He takes a step back, raising his hand, then pauses.

"Ah, but first-" Rezo turns to Natalia and does a little hand gesture, before saying "{Vas Grood.}" A red bubble of energy is briefly visible around Natalia, rapidly turning blue and then entirely invisible within a scant few seconds.

Satisfied, Rezo turns back to the training dummy, raises his hand, and incants: "Oh source of all power, oh bright burning violet flame, take my offer, be my flame."

As before, a purplish ball of flame forms in his hand, this one bigger than before. Rezo throws it at the training dummy and with a fwoom and the hiss of steam, the dummy bursts into flames.

For a moment, she looks guarded, then relaxes as she realizes it's probably some form of barrier. Clearly, the words have meaning to the spellcaster, even if they don't have any meaning to Natalia.

"Hm. Not quite to goals, but closer. So connotation, flow are important..." She hums again. "The repetition is probably 'cheating'... Like poetry?"

Rezo douses the flames then turns his attention back to Natalia, and to explaining how spells from his world work.

"The primary part of a spell are the chaos words, which are recited before the power words. And the power words are essentially the name of the spell. In this case, it's simply 'Fireball,'' Rezo explains. "There are three essential parts to the chaos words. First, they must name or allude to the forces upon which the caster is calling. Secondly, the caster must declare their intent. And thirdly, the chaos words must sound cool."

"So... Were I to call upon the winter itself... something like--"

She proceeded to speak in Russian, and tried to gather Ether as she closed her eyes. "{Grey wolf, whose fangs have found me, seek the hearts of our enemies!}"

It doesn't come naturally to her. "There is obviously more to spell development than this, of course, or everyone would be tossing spells everywhere, to be sure."

Malachiasz has taken it upon himself to learn what magic he can in this place. He's always been a prodigy, if he does say so himself, and he's well convinced he can master whatever magic is taught to him. He does his best to sense the energies this man threw into the strange fireball, attempting to make note of the incantation, but it clearly will take some bit of practice.

He moved closer, his tall and lithe frame a study in smooth, almost birdlike movement save for a slight limp when he took a step with his left foot. His hair was a wild and slightly unruly black mess and there were feathers woven into it at seemingly random intervals.

"Do all your spells require an incantation?" Blood magic did, in a sense. It required a pre-constructed spell, red while welling the power of life from a wound. Of course, that knowledge had been taken from him by a cruel goddess who'd felt threatened by his power, but that really was neither here nor there at the moment.

Blind as he is, Rezo is unable to notice very much about Malchiasz's appearance; however, he's attuned to abnormalities like the slight inconsistency in the otherwise steady sound of Malchiasz's footsteps that indicates a limp. It's the quality of an experienced healer, although he's polite enough not to comment on it.

"Yes, although once you're sufficiently familiar with a spell you can skip reciting the incantation aloud," Rezo says. "Is it different with your spells?"

(It feels odd for him to ask such a question because in his world spells are basically incantations by definition- asking 'Do all your spells require an incantation?' would be a bit like asking 'Do all your recipes have ingredients in them?' But a different world means different rules.)

So, not unlike Blood Magic, though. He really does miss the crafting of spells. Maybe if he learns some other form of magic here, though, perhaps he can use his gift for spellcraft again.

"It isn't, though I'm certain the incantations are different, and the magic I know only required reading from a spellbook, once the spell was crafted. Is this your own magic or did you learn it here?"

"It's my own," Rezo says, "Or rather, it's the system of magic used in my former world." Just to be accurate, since he's hardly the inventor of spellcrafting!

"I'm trying to translate a common fireball spell from my native tongue to the Imperial language."

"Does it matter? Does your magic only answer commands it understands? Is it not shaped by your will? So, if it's named 'Fireball' or 'piorun kulisty', it should have the same effect, shouldn't it?"

"I believe it's not a matter of what the magic understands," Rezo says, "But of my own understanding. Ah, let me try to demonstrate..."

He waves a hand at Malchiasz and says "{Vas Grood.}" causing a red bubble of energy to briefly appear around Malchiasz. Within a matter of seconds the bubble fades to blue, then turns entirely invisible.

Having cast a shielding spell upon Malchiasz, Rezo turns back to the training dummy and incants in his native tongue: "Oh, source of all power, light which burns beyond crimson, let thy power gather in my hand. Fireball!"

The ball of fire that grows between his hands is almost white with heat, and when he tosses it forward it collides with the dummy and explodes, scattering bits of smoldering wood and straw across the room as it takes out not only that dummy but a few of the surrounding ones.

"What I just cast was the same spell, but in my native language," Rezo says. "But to you, that probably sounded like gibberish. I theorize that the spells of my world work best if the caster thoroughly understands what they're saying and what they're asking for, and thus if I wish to share my spells with the other Corsairs they will be better suited to incantations that are in a language we both share, rather than memorizing syllables by rote."

He watches the demonstration with interest, and yes, the gibberish he recited that created the explosive fireball. "I believe I see your point. I assume you're struggling with the vocabulary in Imperial necessary to achieve the same result?"

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Second Invocation

Doctor Doctor give me the news

no pill's gonna cure my ill

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literary Vault.

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I generally use {these brackets} to indicate he's speaking in non-Imperial, as a side note.

Re: I generally use {these brackets} to indicate he's speaking in non-Imperial, as a side note.

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