Nearest The Abyss: Patchy Mirrors
Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2020 8:09 pm
Ash 67th
Like tall soldiers standing stalwart in a land of clouds, an alpine forest rose sharply into the sky, their roots digging into a mountainous world at high altitudes. These trees were more peculiar than most: their roots were gnarled, twisted and looping, forming brambles and thickets. Maze-like paths snaked and twisted through the wooden, snow-covered wonderland, and even Vesta oft paused to Window down from the heavens above to see whereabouts they were.
"I've never hiked on foot through such a place," remarked Vesta, Alphonse's feline mentor, currently covered in a coat of gray, thick, rosette-spotted fur born of her Animus. "This forest could hide a dragon, and the world would never know. Funny that it's so close to the border with Daravin, isn't it? What a place for an ambush." As much as she marveled about it, Alphonse could tell the woman had apprehension about these woods.
"You're scared of this place, huh?" asked Alphonse.
"That is the wise feeling to have. Are you not?" Vesta passed the baton back to her student.
"...Yes, I am. Not scared, but this place doesn't make me feel at ease," Alphonse admitted. "Maybe we could train a bit to get our mind off how much this place sucks? It's cold and I feel like spirits'r gonna jump out and start trying to kill us."
Vesta nodded. "I've been meaning to offer you more council on Masquerade. How does that sound?"
Alphonse had been averse to learning more about it, but a change in pace from this confusing trek seemed welcome. "Yeah, you've got it," she groused with a weak smirk. "So what, we spinning fancy magic illusion thread or some shyke?"
A laugh broke from the elder's lips. "Hohoho, not thread per se. No. I've already taught you about the very basics, the theory, but we must learn application now. I'll teach you to weave an Illusory Enchantment first." She paused, taking a seat upon a waist-high root after brushing off the snow and dew. "Enchantments are born of concentration," said Vesta. "You concentrate, and blanket Aether upon a person, place, or thing--some surface somewhere."
"That seems pretty familiar. Kinda like how Transposition worked," Alphonse said.
"Yes, there are some similarities. You do need to however pay attention to the details, or your illusions will be dull and blurry, a facsimile of what they could be," said Vesta. "The simplest of these enchantments are not major alterations: they are tiny, small changes. Think, eye color, the size and length of your horns, the color of your fur. A set of these could make you or someone else look like an entirely different person."
Thunk. Down went Alphonse' pack, then the scabbard to her huge sword, thudding in the dirt. Crossing her arms, Alphonse pulled off her cloak and tossed it to the muddy cloak. "Aight, let's do this," she said with a grunt, spreading her knees apart to take a more powerful stance.
"Not so fast," muttered Vesta. "Don't get ahead of yourself, dear."
Demotivation spread through the grumpy Rathor like a curse, and she looked to Vesta with disdain. "But like, it seems so simple."
"No, it's not, child," said Vesta. "There are patterns of approach to most disciplines, and what I told you about Illusory Enchantment is only the foundational principle, the theory."
Alphonse shrugged, shaking her head. She clawed at the air with a downward swoop of the arm, letting it hang by her side. "Whatever."
"What you need to learn now, is to create a Mask," said Vesta. "That is the applied principle. A Mask is the most minor implementation of an Enchantment. It's usually just visual: a Mask carries no scent, no sound, no taste, no touch. Only a very accomplished wizard could hope to make a Mask of sound, for example, and it would still be choosing one over the other. Start small--visual elements are the only such sense you will be able to manifest regardless."
Alphonse gave a nod. "So what makes a Mask different?" she asked.
"Really, it boils down to how feeble and simple the Mask is. They do not hold up under scrutiny, nor do they last long. If you lose concentration, it will instantaneously dissipate," said Vesta. "Try it. Turn your claws red by performing a Mask. Stare at them, and imagine them turning red, then cease upon that extra feeling the Rune provides."
In a huff, Alphonse straightened out and relaxed, bringing her huge mitt up to her face and peering over it, flexing her claws to reveal each of those huge ivories. Her eyes leered to slits, imagining her claws as red. Tied to her imagination, something crept up from the back of her mind. "I feel it," she muttered. "Feck, is it really this easy?" As soon as her words ended, her claws blipped from white to red in the blink of an eye. Marveling over it, the color faded the moment she glanced away, following her focus. "Mmmh. This is kinda annoying though."
"It is, however, useful," said Vesta. "Now apply a Veneer--feed more intent, to change and alter your nails. Make them end in white, pointy tips."
Inhaling, Alphonse juggled in her mind trying to do two things at once: maintaining an illusory enchantment, and also modifying that enchantment. It wasn't easy. "It's not working," she muttered, but as that last word left her mouth, the red tips of her claws instantly turned white from how she envisioned the picture would look in her imagination. "Huh," she said.
"A Veneer can also be used to tamper with the illusions of other, weaker Masqueraders. Keep that in mind," said Vesta. "I'll teach you about constructs, now."
"Constructs?" questioned Alphonse.
"Yes, Illusory Constructs. They're a collection of aether given shape without reference of another object--you are only changing what exists with an Enchantment, but a Construct helps you to create far more complex falsehoods. They are more demanding of your Aether than Masks, however. Detail is even more important here, as the only reference is your design, perception, and imagination. By maintaining it, you can shift the shape to adapt to people's perceptions, like a puppet. Do not think of them as entirely static and immobile. You'll still be limited to entirely visual elements at first, but train and you will eventually push these boundaries."
"Huh, so that's how I'd, say, make a person look like they're running off down an alley or something like that?" asked Alphonse.
"Yes," Vesta said. "In time, however. All you will be able to do now is perhaps a Reflection. Remember when you had to hide in rubbish within an alley? This may have bought you more time to find an alternative. Reflection takes an existing element, and mirrors a copy of it somewhere. Unlike most constructs, the detail is borrowed to a higher degree, requiring more attention and a visual guide fresher in memory to tie those associations. Some think of it as a halfway point between a Mask and a Construct, as a Reflection is a very temporary thing. Try it. Stand within it, and create a reflection of the root archway there."
"That does sound pretty useful, I'll admit," shrugged Alphonse. "Okay, so, I just stand here, and..." Her nails switched to white the moment her mind went elsewhere, and she took position beneath the roots, looking back to try and burn the sight into her minds eye. Squeezing her fingers and unfurling them, she held out her hands in front of her to try and shape that aether Vesta was talking about. She imagined it looking like what was behind her, and the invisible substance spread out in front of her, forming a thin, flat plane.
Glancing over her shoulder to get a fresh glance, she looked down the path, then returned her vision to look at what she was doing. Like the Enchantment, she used her will to carry intent across the image, spreading out the memory across the canvas, reflecting what was behind her. It was muddled and patchy in places, blurry in others, and it had no depth of field at all, but Vesta walked up to it with a smile. "Good job," said the old crone. "Now drop it before you burn yourself out like a wick. Those are costly to maintain for a sprout like you."
Already Alphonse could feel her fingers tingling, a pulsing in her head. She averted her gaze and dropped her hands, pinching herself to get it to stop. It faded instantly. "Yeah, I can feel that. Really took it out of me."
"It gets easier," said Vesta. "As your mind finds synchrony with details, and your concentration becomes more refined, it will tax you less."
"Yeah..." muttered Alphonse, massaging her brow. "Feck, I think it gave me a fever" she said with a squint. "Maybe I's should lay off the magick for a few days."
"That would be wise," said Vesta. "You've learned more in the last two weeks than most will learn during an entire year of arcane schooling."
Alphonse blinked. "Whoa, that's actually... kinda weird? I thought I'm dumb."
"You are, but you're persistent, and you've got a mind for these things," replied Vesta matter-of-factly.
"Guess it don't matter," muttered Alphonse. "Whatever. Listenin' to you is gettin' me this far."