• Closed • Blood Aurora

[Doran]

Vhalar 17, Arc 719

When the alchemist came to again – he did not have any other way to describe how he had moved from being awake to sleeping only to find himself in a dream, utterly lucid and aware – he was surrounded by light. No, it wasn’t light, he amended as he looked out of one of the tall windows in front of him, it was the snow on the mountains that shimmered so brightly. The entire landscape in front of him seemed to be covered with tiny crystals.

The sky that extended nearly endlessly above the mountaintops was not blue like one would expect, it was covered in different shades of red, an endless play of colours that was nearly breath-taking in its beauty. In the waking world, the rare blood aurora could usually only be seen at night, but here it was visible even though the sun had not set and wouldn’t for another couple of breaks at least.

He turned away from the window again, finding the light almost painful after a while, in order to focus on the task at hand. He was, he realized, in his home, a fortress in the heart of the Cold Mountains where few, if any living beings apart from creatures that seemed to have stepped right out of a nightmare existed. He couldn’t say how he exactly knew, he didn’t have any idea how his dreaming mind had come up with such a place or why there was always snow in his dreamscape, he only knew that that was where he was.

The sound that his feet made on the white marble floor was unusually loud. He walked at a brisk pace, down countless hallways, only pausing momentarily as he caught his reflection in a mirror that hung on a wall. He still looked like himself, he observed, although he might eventually be able to change that, if what Mister Magpie had said was true, but his clothes were different. He usually dressed in various shades of black, grey and silver, but this time his clothes were mainly crimson, with only hints of black, although they were just as elegant as before.

He moved down a spiral staircase, into a part of the fortress that was located underground and that reminded him of the Tower in Etzos where he had worked once in a strange way, down to the holes in the wall that Vuda had used to spy on people. There were paintings on the walls here and there, of his daughter that had died in infancy, almost four centuries before, of his mortal wife that he had lied to and left, of the man who he had begged the Immortals to save, in vain, and whose grave he still visited on a regular basis.

For a moment, he could hear a multitude of voices. The walls themselves suddenly seemed to whisper to him and accuse him. They asked him why he hadn’t tried harder, why he hadn’t managed to save him, and if any of his feelings had been genuine. He tried to make them stop. He tried to change his surroundings to something less painful, but even as he ran his hands down the cold stone walls, nothing happened.

He was still utterly powerless, even in his own dreamscape. It was a feeling that he loathed and a weakness he had no interest in.

He moved on, trying to ignore the whispers. They felt real and they sounded real, but they weren’t real. This was nothing but a dream …

He pushed the door open and entered his laboratory. It was even bigger than the laboratory that Vuda had given to him, with equipment that was brand new and in prime condition. There was everything that an alchemist could possibly ask for, and the cupboards were filled with reagents that came from all parts of Idalos. Some of them were exceedingly rare. They were not what he was interested in that trial though. Instead, he moved towards a large metal container and opened it. It was filled with alchemically enhanced ice that only melted very slowly. In the centre of the ice was a vial that was filled with blood.

He carefully removed the vial from the container and carried it over to a centrifuge. Before he could continue his latest experiment and see if he could replicate certain abilities with alchemy, he needed to purify the blood and isolate the component that he needed …

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Quiet. Steady. Focus.

Focus…

Focus!

Llyr’s dreamscape collapsed around him. He swore loudly at the destruction of the barely held together construct of a forest. The trees fell away into dust motes, their leaves withered and black, and the ground sunk underneath his feet. Entire swaths of earthen soil sunk into vast and endlessly deep openings. His wings fluttered and he levitated over one, peered into the darkness, then muttered in Vahanic about the irritation of another failed attempt.

As easy as he found the creation of man-made structures: sculpted stone, glass fixtures, crystalline decor, fashionable attire, and so on… he struggled to create elements of nature still. The closest he got to sustaining the natural elements was the persistent seascape frozen in place. Even that had elements of man-made to it, as it seemed like living within an oil painting rather than in the actual aquatic wilderness.

The forest proved no different. While if he allowed his dreamscape to muddle about without his influence, it often created trees and jungles and such things – pieced together from his memories. When he tried to consciously impact such things… it just wouldn’t hold together. He couldn’t create entirely new things when it came to nature, either. When it came to the wilds, he had to use only that which he’d experienced in his memories. There seemed to be a greater range when it came to the interiors and structures and towns and even cities, he was capable of building, not so dependent on memories and easier to experiment with potential discoveries made within Emea.

Llyr flew over the dreamscape while the forest gave way in cracks and crashes of the poorly constructed trees. He snapped his fingers. The failed forest vanished. He landed lightly on a stone balcony, then walked over to a group of pedestals that housed polished orbs of different materials on top. He went to a glossy black sphere and smiled when he caught sight of a speck of white light inside of it.

“Oh, you’re asleep finally.” He patted along the front of his tunic, ridding himself of the simple garb for something more regal and potentially enticing. Llyr wanted to appear pleasing to the other man’s eye, and hoped he managed such a feat, before he left his dreamscape.

He set his hand onto the orb. Through the Veil in a rush, he followed the determined path to the brand with impossible speed that had no bearing on the reality of time in Idalos.

The blond stepped out and walked down a spiral staircase. He heard whispers from the stones that surrounded him. He paused. Llyr glanced upward, the other direction that the stairs led, but then he instinctively knew where the dreamer was, and it wasn’t there. While exploration of his initiate’s dreamscape would provide him with a deeper knowledge of the man, without requiring permission or direct openness, the doctor hadn’t given him any reason to suspect that Doran wasn’t an honest man.

So, he continued down and ignored the whispers of people he didn’t know. People who seemed intent to torment the dreamer. Llyr remembered when he had something similar in his own dreamscape. He put a stop to that, quick. He didn’t need voices in his head. He had enough thoughts on his own without entertaining the notion of imagined thoughts of others.

As he approached, he threw an ethereal cloak over his presence. He found a door, left slightly ajar… just enough for him to slip into the room. Hidden within the dream, he found a nearby spot to look around from.

Llyr’s eyes widened. His lips parted in a slightly open mouth. This place… he thought of the haphazard laboratory he’d explored while in the underground caves of Rhakros.

…this wasn’t that.

He recognized some of the devices, though. These ones were far improved. Llyr hurriedly walked, almost a jog, as he went to one of the tables and leaned over to examine the insides of a glass alembic. It was empty, though, and thus incredibly clean. His fingers twitched, already wanting to grab at things so he could look at them closer.

Llyr nearly startled when Doran walked past him.

He’d almost forgotten about the dreamer, why he’d come, and that he was still cloaked from perception.

The young mage turned around, faced away from the table. He followed a few steps behind Doran and closely watched what the man was doing. As the vial of blood was set into the centrifuge, Llyr let the dreamstealth cloak fade away from him.

Dressed in a snow-white suit meant for colder weather, an indigo silk scarf tucked into the v-slope of his tightly belted coat, an ornate lapel pin of a snowflake framed in silver and diamond, and pointed toe boots of bleached ithecal scales: Llyr ran the palms of his white-gloved hands over the front of his coat and then cleared his throat.

“Evening, Doctor Thetys,” he offered in his silvery, amiable voice. The pale biqaj glanced at the centrifuge. He tried to contain his eagerness to figure out what it was that the doctor had been planning to do. He needed to confirm that Doran was properly lucid, first. It required a great deal of discipline to maintain a veneer of composure instead of immediately start into irrelevant questions about the laboratory around them. The irises of his eyes brightened into a vivid purple color. “I see that you appear occupied with… something. Apologies, I’ll try to not take up too much of your time. Have you been faring well in Emea since last we saw one another?”

[Doran]

After a while, the voices stopped. The alchemist didn’t question why they did so, but only appreciated the silence, the absence of those whispers that reminded him of his past and his past lack of power in an unpleasant way. He paused momentarily, listening, checking if they would start anew. When nothing happened, he turned to focus on his experiment again.

As he stood in front of the centrifuge, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the process to be finished, he wondered. Everything in the laboratory that he had discovered in his dream home, a home that he would not have in the waking world for several arcs, if ever, felt absolutely real. He couldn’t tell the difference between the tools that were in front of him and the ones in his private laboratory in the Obsidian Prism.

The reagents in the cupboards and shelves smelled the same, and he didn’t doubt that any potions that he made would taste the same they would have tasted in the waking world. Would they have the same effect though? If he put a vial into one of his pockets, would it still be there when he woke up in the morning? Would he be able to take anything with him?

Would Emea offer him a way to acquire things that he did not have access to in the waking world?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled him out of his thoughts abruptly. His heart began to beat a hint faster as he wondered who could have entered his dreamscape. He didn’t spin around though, but turned around slowly. The expression on his face was one of relative calm, even though he was rather surprised when he recognized his visitor.

“Mister Magpie”, he spoke in a polite tone and inclined his head in a greeting. The man wore different clothes this time, he observed, but his face and his body still looked the same. That was another thing that he was curious about. Did Llyr look like that in the waking world or would he not recognize him when they finally met there? He remembered their conversation a couple of trials earlier. He had said that it was possible to influence Emea then.

“Blood Magic”, he informed Llyr. “Back in Etzos, I first started to experiment with the blood of mutants in order to see if what had happened to them could be replicated or even reversed. A man named Padfoot caused quite a bit of chaos while I was there. I assume that you have heard of him?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I have extended my research to the blood of divine creatures, blessed and mages since then, although experimenting with the latter in Emea would not be wise, if what you said is true”, he added, remembering Llyr’s warning about using magic in your dreams.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” he asked as Llyr told him that he would try not to take up too much of his time. “I’m not sure if time matters here. As for how I fared in Emea since our last meeting”, he continued, furrowing his brow barely noticeably. “I seem to be unable to enter the dreams of others so far, even though you told me that I would be able to.”

He paused for a moment. He was not complaining – the tone of his voice remained fairly neutral – but merely stating a fact. Besides, it was likely only a matter of time until he would acquire all the abilities that he had seen the other man use and, perhaps, more.

“I had not expected to see you again so soon”, he remarked, hoping that Llyr would explain the reason for his visit and, moreover, be willing to continue their last conversation.

He had to admit, the man intrigued him, more than most mortals, but then again, it was entirely possible that he was not completely human, but did in fact share some of his divinity.

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Was it even possible to alarm Doran? One of many thoughts, and the young mage thinly smiled in response to the doctor’s calm expression and polite salutation. His violet-eyed gaze flicked down to Doran’s feet, then up. When he returned to the natural contact made between their similar heights, he observed the other man’s blue eyes. The color reminded him of deep waters under storm clouds, where leviathans lurked and only the bravest of pirates dared to sail across.

Blood Magic.

Immediately Llyr forgot all his other thoughts. He even forgot the purpose of his visit to the dreamscape. All he could think about was the two little words that Doran had just spoken to him. His lips parted again, in a slight breath of overwhelm, when he felt a narrowed focus inch through his emean vessel. The rest of the words slid past him, almost gone unheard, except that it had to do with the explanation… barely. Not enough to satisfy Llyr.

His gaze had drifted away, during the talk of Etzos and Padfoot, and he stared at the centrifuge. Llyr felt his heart flurry.

He couldn’t… resist… anymore.

Llyr pulled off his gloves. He stepped past Doran. The lanky biqaj leaned his tall figure over the centrifuge. The violet in his eyes had broken past the bounds of his irises. Instead of circular rings, the vivid color consumed his entire orbs and left a speck of pupil among the powerful wavelengths of light. The purple glow didn't remain contained in the orbs of his eyes, and trailed around his eyelashes in tendrils of illumination that lapped at his dark brows near his temples.

“No, I have not heard of this Padfoot,” he answered simply, without care that Doran had found something he had no awareness of. He wanted to hear more about this blood magic.

His bare hands hovered over the centrifuge. There was no jewelry on his long, slender fingers tonight. He wanted to touch the device. He wanted to lift it up and examine it and take it apart and then… Doran’s words drew him back when the human mentioned he was experimenting with the blood of divine-natured beings.

He pulled his hands away, straightened his posture, and looked over at his initiate. The mention of time being negligible in dreams would have brought a smile to his face, if he wasn’t so distracted by the previous information. He gnawed on his lower lip instead, the slightest hint of the restraint he had to employ so he wouldn’t fall into inquiries…

“That is not true,” he retorted in a curt manner when his initiate claimed to be unable to enter the dreams of others. It wasn’t that he was impatient or insulted about the comment, but that it paled so greatly in comparison to what he did wish to talk about. “You entered my dream, so we know you are able. What you mean is you have been unable to find the thresholds to doors on your lonesome. The more you dream with your eyes open, like now, the more you will discover such connection to Emea. It took my first initiate many trials to acquire such ability without the need of assistance or the whim of Emea to guide such journeys.”

He shook his head, in dismissal of the simple topic. A quiet, humorless laugh dryly escaped him at the mention that Doran hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

“Did I not say I would visit you again soon? Doctor Thetys, you should consider adjusting your expectations of me.” The latter statement was said in a playful tone of voice, a juxtaposed departure from his previous terse response. He even wagged his index finger, with his other hand rested on his hip, as if chiding the professor. Llyr limited his smile, not showing teeth as was often his way with such expressions, then he turned his attention back to the centrifuge.

“What….” he started, then he touched the top of the device. He almost shivered while he glided his fingertips along the dimensions of the centrifuge. “…is this?”

Like a dam that broke under the sheer weight of a tsunami, Llyr swiftly paced down the table while he looked around at all the instruments and devices in the laboratory. He shared some of his varied thoughts, in a rush of words with hardly a breath between them, “But you are not a mage, Doctor Thetys. How can you perform magic of any kind, let alone what you call Blood Magic? Is it necromantic in nature? It cannot be flesh-sculpting, unless it is? No, it did not sound like it. The blood of mutants! Of Divinity! Imagine that? Fascinating!”

“Do Immortals have blood then? Truly? To be used?” Llyr spun on heel, walked to Doran, and folded his hands behind his back. His violet aglow eyes glittered in his internal ethereal light and specks of diamond-like prisms dotted the purple, slowly taking over to change the color into an iridescent sheen. “You do this in the waking world? This is your research at the academy? So, this is what you worked with Lord Vuda on?! That means such research can be performed in Etzos? Or was it something you did on your own? How amazing,” his words were sincere, without the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Llyr placed a hand over his heart, and he took a momentary breath to collect himself. His cheeks blushed a shimmering silvery-blue color. He fluttered his eyelashes. “Ohh, Doctor Thetys…”

The young mage turned around in a complete circle to survey the lab again. Gossamer wings wove into existence while he turned, then buzzed when they vibrated into flight. He levitated upward to get a better look at everything at once. Happy in the higher vantage point, he looked down at Doran and said, “I never expected that you might have such delightful interests. Does the Academy of Viden surpass the Academy of Etzos for such endeavors? Doctor, do you have a tome available to read about your work?”

He hovered near a large instrument that looked like a vat but he wasn’t sure what it actually was meant for. The biqaj kept his legs primly together in a pose that made it easier to maintain levitation. Llyr reached out to run his hand along it. It was more than obvious that not only did Llyr have inquiries into Doran’s research, but he also wanted to touch every single thing that was in the laboratory.

[Doran]

The way that Llyr inspected his laboratory, as if he could barely curb his curiosity, reminded the alchemist of his former apprentice, Sintih, and of Finn, the orphan that had worked for him in Etzos. Whereas he might have chided them and warned them not to touch anything lest they accidentally hurt themselves, he merely watched the etherist somewhat bemusedly – the first hint of real emotion that the son of Ziell had shown since Llyr had entered his dream. During their first meeting, the man had displayed skills that were far beyond what most mortals – as well as some beings of immortal blood – were capable of, and for that reason, he would give him free reign here.

Besides, he wanted to know what someone like him would do with this place.

“A Becomer”, he replied as Llyr informed him that he had not heard of Padfoot. “Something that he did caused people to mutate and take on the traits of animals.” He shrugged his shoulders, having no interest in discussing the matter of the deranged mage’s activities further, for the time being. There were other things that interested him much more. As Llyr’s hands hovered over the centrifuge, he stood next to him. He didn’t stop him though, but simply watched him, with some sort of vague curiosity.

“I see”, he remarked curtly as Llyr told him how long it had taken his first initiate to enter the dreams of others. He was not impatient; he had just wondered if anything had gone wrong. As for adjusting his expectations of the other man? He merely raised his eyebrows as Llyr wagged his finger, slightly amused rather than irritated, as he would have had a more mundane man acted like that around him.

“This”, he continued and gestured towards the centrifuge. “Is a centrifuge. When activated, it essentially separates denser substances and substances that are less dense. In this case, I use it to purify the blood.”

He paused for a moment, giving Llyr time to think about what he had heard and pose a question, if he wanted to.

“Magic is not limited to those that have a spark”, he continued in a somewhat cool and matter-of-fact tone. “People just think that it is. All that it takes to give someone magic, for a time at least, are a few drops of blood. But no, what I do is not necromantic in nature, and there is no flesh-sculpting involved”, he informed Llyr. He spoke of necromancy in a relatively neutral tone. He was aware of the way most of Idalos regarded necromancers, but to him all those that had a spark were the same, to some extent. Becomers, Empaths and Transmuters could cause just as much trouble, and as for a necromancers’ penchant for the dead … he’d seen a fair number of dead bodies in his time as a doctor and had come to be rather indifferent towards them.

Llyr had a lot of questions, he noticed. It was almost as if their roles were reversed now. He remembered how out of his element he had felt that first night, how confused and in awe he had been – because the other man had revealed a whole new world to him, a world that he had only seen in passing until then, in spite of his extraordinarily long life. He didn’t mind the other man’s curiosity though, although he wasn’t sure which question, he ought to answer first.

Finally, he settled one the one that was, in his opinion, the easiest.

“Immortals do have blood”, he replied. “You remember what I told you about the battle at Treid’s Tomb, I assume? I stabbed Xiur, and he bled just like any other man. The rest of his kind are not that different, although I would advise you not to try and get your hands on a bit of Immortal blood yourself. It’s rather … risky”, he remarked dryly. “I am one of the greatest swordsmen in the world, and I barely survived. But then again, those abilities you possess might give you an edge.”

The memory of his – and Yanahalqah’s – flight through Oscillus, to Augiery and finally Etzos and their fight against the creature that had been sent after them was still fresh in his mind. He’d finally realized the true extent of his abilities then. The same ability that allowed him to plunge a room into utter darkness had brought a being made of light to its knees.

“I told you that I was an alchemist when I first met, didn’t I?” he continued. “I do all this – and more – in the waking world. I even found a way to neutralize magic and essentially uncast spells, although the reagent that is necessary for such is hard to obtain”, he admitted in a calm tone – he was not bragging about his accomplishments, but merely stating facts. As far as he knew, the powder that the Avriel Noth had acquired might even be one of a kind. He’d received half of it for the work that he had done for the man, and he’d decided to save it for the time being. It was among his most valuable possessions.

“This is part of my research”, he confirmed. “I’ve also dabbled in more conventional branches of alchemy, such as making a potion that renders you immune to poison though. The laboratory that Lord Vuda gave me was quite … adequate, and he gave me free reign as far as my research is concerned, but some of the resources that I wanted were in limited supply in the City of Stones. As you know, they have a problem with Immortal worship”, the alchemist remarked, pausing again briefly as Llyr grew wings and started to levitate. He was still surprised at the ease with which the man used them, even though he was obviously not an Avriel, the only race that was born with wings, from what he knew. There was the tiniest hint of envy again, even though he realized that such a feeling was both unnecessary and inappropriate, especially for a man in his position and with his background.

“Viden is better than Etzos for that reason”, he explained, his gaze still trained on Llyr. “There’s no book about my research yet. There might be sometime though. Why do you ask? Are you interested in alchemy? When we last met, you mentioned some sort of research”, he spoke.

“Feel free to take a look around”, he added.

[Llyr Llywelyn]

A centrifuge, that’s what the device was. The young mage’s dark brows furrowed in consideration of the object. Purify the blood. He communicated the confusion that showed on his expression, with a single word, “Purify?”

Doran went on to explain… things that made little sense to Llyr at first listen, but he considered the words and they slowly sunk in to make more and more sense while he sorted through what correlated with the older man’s claims. Magic not limited by a spark? His frown of vague confusion returned. He scratched at his cheek, then asked, “The blood droplets that you require come from a mage though, do they not? So, this blood magic borrows the power of mages, and how exactly is such ability of spellwork determined by doing so if the sparkless person has not practiced the necessary control required of wielding such magic?”

His left eyebrow arched high in an askew raise. From the tone of his voice, one might wonder if the young mage was challenging, if not dismissing, the very idea of such a possibility.

Llyr moved on quick enough, as he discarded both his confusion and skepticism for the greater thrill that ran through him. He wished to explore the laboratory, and though he felt uncertain about the implications of this new sphere of study, he couldn’t deny the lure of the devices and ingredients that he saw.

…but the implications did not stop there, when Doran confirmed that Immortals did have blood. Llyr paused in what he was doing to simply stare at the older man. Did the doctor realize the significance of that? He had to. It was his research! Llyr couldn’t help but scoff when he was advised to not try and get such blood, for one of the greatest swordsmen in the world had barely survived such an attempt. A warm yellow flashed in the irises of his eyes. Momentary reckless pride swelled in the young man and he glibly said, “As if I would need to fight to acquire such a thing, if I wanted it.”

As the discussion turned back to alchemy, and Doran claimed to have found a way to neutralize magic to the point of uncasting spells… he didn’t know what the word reagent meant exactly but figured it slightly from the context. Llyr briefly interjected with a guess toward what it might be, “Is it the blood of an abrogant?”

Llyr moved on, literally, while he levitated upward to examine the vat. He inquired as to the distinction between the academies, then nodded when he heard the answer. Though he looked in the vat, he could almost feel Doran’s gaze fixed on him. He slightly smiled and glanced over when given permission to look around as well as asked about whether he was interested in alchemy.

“I’m interested in anything that might further my understanding about… reality.” Llyr’s head swam with all the new information provided to him. There was so much that Doran had said which interested him. Resounding excitement drifted through every fiber of his soul. Not only did his etheric spark thrill, but his other sparks, so thoroughly that any separation between the four was indiscernible; perfect harmony.

He levitated around the vat, then to a twisted coil device that had tubes coming from it. Llyr gingerly ran his fingers along the tubes. Though he seemed eager, his every touch proved delicate and respectful of the item itself. There would be no tugging, pulling, shaking, or crude grabbing. Only slow and cautious strokes, light taps of his fingertips, and the occasional restrained press of his palm against the numerous objects.

Doran’s permission to look around led him to flit around the room in exploration. As he did so, he asked occasional questions about what this was or what that was. He wanted the names for everything he didn’t recognize, and he even asked on some of the ones he did know, just to see if they had more academic names that he wasn’t aware of.

><><><><><><

After nearly half-a-break of this, Llyr finally returned to his feet. He set a few vials, filled with clear solution, in a wooden frame. He removed his coat with a flourished wave of his hand. It vanished in a plume of mist and revealed the luxurious suit underneath. The powder-white silk fit to his svelte form in perfectly tailored silhouette.

Freed of the outer wear, he swiftly walked to a cabinet he’d explored during his look around. The young mage took out some interestingly colored objects, along with a mortar and pestle, then hurried back to the vials. Llyr settled the items neatly in front of him. Not in a mess, but rather he methodically organized everything in geometric formation by size and color. He nodded once everything had been lined up just right.

Llyr looked at the doctor, whether the man had continued their discussion during his exploration, or if things had fallen silent.

“Magic isn’t the only thing to be wary about when in Emea,” he informed his initiate. “Harm can befall you when you are aware of yourself here. Harm that can extend from the dreaming realm into the waking world. I have encountered injury in my dreamscape, only to awaken with bruises in the spots where I’d seemed to have been impaled.”

Llyr returned his sight to the items on the table. He tapped his fingertips against his lower lip in a contemplative fidget. “This danger increases when you bring yourself fully, not only in mind but also body to Emea. Once you are capable of the latter is when you can seek out the dreams of Immortals.”

He picked up a thistle-flower and examined the thin stem covered with blue leaves. Llyr didn’t know what it was… but he liked the blue color. The biqaj plucked the leaves and put them in the mortar. Next, he removed a green husk from a fruit-like plant that looked like something he used to see in the jungles between Quacia and Desnind. The blond cleaned his fingers off with a thin towel, then he picked up the mortar. While he ground the husk into the blue leaves with the pestle, he faced Doran to watch the man some.

“Is it possible to create blood from nothing?” For that matter, he inquired, “Can anything be created from nothing, Doctor Thetys?”

Llyr lowered his gaze, to look at the blue-green powder he’d crushed from the leaves and the husk. He hesitated, rolled the pestle between his fingers, then he nervously confessed, “I'll admit I’ve n-n-never studied a-at an academy, nor… tutorship, not for th-these sort of things.”

A blush rose on his cheeks. He could have kept it a secret, left Doran confused as to why he hadn’t even known about alchemy until this very moment, but part of him wanted to offer the same sort of honesty that his initiate seemed to have given him already. Besides Doran seemed like a smart man who was just too polite to inquire about Llyr’s lack of what perhaps was considered common knowledge in other parts of the world.

“I know a girl who attends the c-courses at the A-academy in Etzos and it all seems…” Llyr hesitated, then set the mortar on the table. He lifted his gaze to look at Doran. “…how to say… I don’t understand why one would need to waste time on memorizing who said what about what? Or being t-tested? Why? I-if you d-do not understand, is it not obvious? Why waste time with su-such burden when there are th-things like this!? Why bother with such routine when such possible w-wonders exist to delve into? She does not have a lab like this… do a-all s-students receive such things in Viden or…” he trailed off and stared at Doran expectantly with eyes the same rich color as his indigo scarf.

[Doran]

“The blood might be contaminated”, the alchemist replied. Llyr’s questions were fairly good ones, and thus he didn’t mind answering them. “It might contain substances that will affect the item or the potion that I intend to make negatively. Using a centrifuge is one way of removing things that shouldn’t be there.” It was, of course, a somewhat simplified explanation of what he did. While Llyr seemed to be extraordinary intelligent, he wasn’t sure how familiar the man was with the correct scientific terms – or if he had any formal education in chemistry and alchemy.

“Of course”, he replied curtly, crossing his arms over his chest, as Llyr asked if the blood had to come from a mage. “You cannot replicate magic without magical reagents. As for how …” he continued, pausing momentarily as he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to explain something that had taken him arcs to understand. “Being able to use magic is not actually necessary. Theoretical knowledge of the abilities you intend to replicate is enough. I studied both Empathy and Becoming on a theoretical level long before I made my first item, a ring imbued with Quilt, if that tells you anything.”

He looked at the younger man questioningly for a moment.

“I said that your abilities might give you an edge”, he reminded him, raising an eyebrow fractionally at Llyr’s outburst. The etherist seemed to be quite a prideful individual, he realized, but then again, so was he. Besides, people like them, people that had managed to transcend the mundane and become more than those around them, ought to be proud in his opinion.

“But no, my neutralizer doesn’t have anything to do with Abrogation”, he replied. “The main ingredient was a powder that was given to me by a man in Etzos, as payment for the work that I did for him. I told you that you cannot replicate magic without magical reagents before. I should have been more precise. While you cannot replicate magic without the blood of mages, you can create things that seem like magic, at least to most of those that don’t have a spark”, he explained.

In the beginning, Llyr had reminded him of Finn and Sintih, but as he watched him moved about the laboratory, he realized that he wasn’t like them at all. Sintih had been careless, he had had an unhealthy penchant for explosions, and Finn had been even worse, but Llyr … Llyr was respectful, he was careful, and he was cautious. Unlike them, he seemed to know exactly how powerful – and dangerous – the things that he was dealing with were and acted accordingly.

Those traits made him appreciate the man even more.

While Llyr continued to explore the laboratory, the alchemist occasionally looked up from his work in order to explain the purpose of an apparatus or a certain reagent to him.

He nodded as Llyr told him that magic was not the only thing to be wary about in Emea before he asked, “What if I attempt to do the opposite though? What if I try to bring something that exists here with me? Would the potion I’m working on crumble to dust the moment I wake up?” He’d been wondering about that since he had first discovered that room and seen all the things in it, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He hadn’t felt like that, so curious and in awe, since he had been a boy, centuries before, and left his native Rynmere for the first time.

There was something about Emea that made him feel young again, at least for a moment.

The other man’s next question puzzled him somewhat. He looked at him for a moment before he shook his head. “No, not with alchemy at least. Only those that have been blessed by the Immortals and those that have Immortal blood can possibly create something from nothing.” He wanted to say more, to share some of his research regarding the divine with him, but something about the look on Llyr’s face made him pause. The man seemed to be hesitant all of a sudden, and perhaps even embarrassed, at his lack of any kind of formal education. For that reason, he decided not to comment on it, even though he was surprised – he’d expected Llyr to be some sort of academic, even if he wasn’t an alchemist or a chemist. He was obviously intelligent.

“Because those wonders could kill you”, he pointed out as Llyr asked about the point of studying at the Academy. “If you delve into something without preparation, without any knowledge of what exactly you are dealing with, it could have unforeseen and unpleasant consequences. There are things that could even cause men like us harm. Besides, someone might already have studied the very thing that you are interested in before. You might be wasting your time.”

“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

“As for this laboratory”, he added. “Students as well as most professors share a laboratory at the Academy. I have a private laboratory in my apartment in the Obsidian Prism though.”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

The many answers that Doran patiently supplied Llyr did not go unnoticed by the young mage: from the explanation about blood purification to the use of magic in reagents. By the time he ground the leaves and husk under the pestle, in the stone mortar, Llyr had gotten in an incredibly pleasant mood.

Llyr sincerely smiled thusly when the other man asked him about bringing things from Emea into the waking world. His eyes brightened into a white-tinted iridescent sheen. He said, “Interesting you ask that! Much of what I am currently exploring is that very option to discover the limits and potentials available. To bring objects from the waking world through Emea is far easier than bringing anything sourced from Emea out. You will be able to, eventually, bring a handful or so objects with you when you physically cross between locations.”

“I can perhaps share this process with you, in a theoretical sense, but it is an ability that comes with time and experience as with most things in Emea.” He thought of the list he had waiting near his bedside. He would set it in the waking world wherever Doran resided, eventually. The momentary reminder of why he’d come to the dreamscape distracted him for a trill. Llyr’s smile faltered, then returned and he added, “As for bringing things that didn’t exist before, into Idalos… that’s a great deal more complicated.”

“Yet, it is not impossible.” He smiled knowingly, in foxish amusement, toward Doran.

While he knew that the older man likely wanted to know more and was eager to learn, Llyr didn’t delve into it. He’d rather revisit the subject when he had more personal experience. For Doran had inquired into something he had only just started to learn about for himself. Instead, he inquired the other man, “Is it possible to create blood from nothing? Can anything be created from nothing, Doctor Thetys?”

Doran looked at him, then shook his head. “No, not with alchemy at least. Only those that have been blessed by the Immortals and those that have Immortal blood can possibly create something from nothing.”

Llyr considered this answer, for his questions had been both direct and rhetorical. He hesitated, though, before any attempts to expound upon the subject. Again, he thought of the implications that Immortal blood had to it. He sensed that he should explain to Doran why he might not understand certain academic foundations, or why he might ask questions that he should know the answers to. The young mage struggled to word the confession. While he hadn’t felt self-conscious about his lack of formal education recently, the insecurity reared its head again when he admitted it aloud.

Would Doran think less of him? Would the professor treat him with disdain or dismiss any further discussion about such topics?

In his flustered vulnerability, he tried to inquire about something he hadn’t gotten the chance to ask anyone else about. He’d tried to ask Clover once, but she had simply said because that’s the way it’s done! …which hadn’t convinced Llyr at all about the structures of the educational systems.

Doran said something else, though. Llyr fidgeted with his thumbnail, chipping away at the pale half-moon, while he watched and listened to the older man. The explanation made logical sense. Llyr applied it to his own experiences, so to understand it. A concerned look showed on the biqaj’s youthful features, however. He broke eye contact and scanned the floor, as if tracking an insect or… simply avoiding the idea of looking at the other man. The blush on his face worsened, heated silvery-blue.

“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

Llyr nodded in agreement. His white-blond bangs fell slightly across his brow while he did so. Keeping his gaze fixed downward, he set his thumbnail against his lower lip and gently chewed at the half-moon. His eyes didn’t remain any one color, shifting through a blend of blues, grays, and greens.

He lowered his hand after a moment’s breath, in a stern refusal to fidget anymore. He folded his hands behind him, to keep them out of the way, and forced himself to raise his gaze. Llyr tried for a slight smile when he looked at Doran, but he couldn’t keep it on his lips. It vanished in the next trill. Instead, a rather serious expression remained. No matter the emotions he felt coaxed by the momentary application to his past, the doctor’s explanation won him over to the purpose of academic structure. Doran seemed to understand his priorities, perfectly.

“Why do you have a private laboratory? Is it due to the nature of your work?” asked Llyr, carefully testing the quality of his voice to make sure he wouldn’t stammer, or the pitch wouldn’t sharply raise or plummet. He eased somewhat when his voice remained steady and even.

“Perhaps I could benefit from such education,” he mentioned in a quiet voice. He turned away, picked up a tiny spoon and gathered some of the powder he’d created. He tapped it into one of the vials with clear solution. “Almost everything recent in my life has been without preparation for it… without sufficient knowledge, that is. When I first awoke in Emea, I was alone and didn’t know about anything except I could go places I didn’t belong.”

“I also knew nothing about magic when I took a spark into my soul,” he added, in a tone as if commenting on the weather. Lavender color filled the irises of his eyes. He watched the powder drift through the vial’s solution. The blue-green swirled about. Llyr leaned over to observe it closer. “It's likely that alchemists, such as yourself, prepare far more theoretical knowledge than I ever have when it comes to wielding domain spells. I am forever searching for the appropriate words to describe that which I’ve already experienced, it feels like. Always one step behind myself...”

Llyr straightened his posture and looked over to Doran. The hint of a smile twitched on the corner of his pale lips, but his mood had noticeably lessened from his prior excitement. With his feet planted on the floor, after the conversation about formal education, he’d sobered into a moderate attitude - not despairing, but not elated either.

“Thank you, Doctor Thetys, for putting up with me and answering my questions. I know that wasn’t exactly our arrangement… I appreciate your willingness.”

[Doran]

“It’s possible then?” the alchemist asked and raised an eyebrow. He was surprised and, perhaps, even intrigued. If he had already been able to use Emea to travel from one place to another when he had attacked Xiur at Treid’s Tomb, his escape would have been so much easier. His companion and he would never have had to traverse a frozen wasteland, always wondering how far behind their enemies were and if the trial when they would die, either by their enemies’ swords or due to the cold, had finally come, and they might not have had to put up with the Naerikk and their unpleasant ways either.

He would likely have been able to reach Etzos within a trial rather than being on the run for a season or more. Did Llyr recognize the significance of that? Was he aware how truly extraordinary his abilities were? He had to be – and yet he spoke of those things as if they were second nature to him, as if there was nothing special about what he did.

“I would appreciate if you shared the theory with me”, he remarked. “Even if I cannot travel like that now, it might make the process easier once I have the necessary experience”, he remarked before he fell silent, furrowing his brow at Llyr’s next statement. “So, you tried to bring something from Emea with you before and succeeded”, he concluded, and eyed the things that were in his laboratory again, thinking. A part of him wanted to take something with him now, even though he knew that it likely wasn’t that simple. Syroa, what was it about that place that made him feel almost … like a mortal?

“What are you making, by the way?” he asked and glanced at the leaves that Llyr had ground with vague curiosity. The man clearly wasn’t an alchemist, and yet it seemed as if he had something specific in mind. While he didn’t have any formal education, he seemed to be quite gifted. He wondered what Llyr could have become if he had attended university, if he’d been allowed to study alchemy or maybe physics. Given enough time, he would likely have surpassed most, if not all of his previous apprentices.

Llyr’s mood had lessened considerably, he noticed. Did the other man expect him to look down on him? He wouldn’t, not because of his lack of education and not because he’s stuttered for a moment, not when he had so many extraordinary abilities. He decided against commenting on the change in Llyr’s mood again though, deciding to answer his next question instead. “Nothing like that. I just prefer to work alone, without my colleagues or my students disturbing me. A private laboratory seemed like a good investment to me. I’ll show it to you when we see each other in the waking world.”

“If you decide to study at an academy”, he continued, stepping closer to Llyr in order to watch what he was doing. “Let me know. I might be able to help. That you used to be alone and clueless doesn’t mean that things will always have to be like that. As for always being one step behind yourself … you are one step ahead of me, at least as far as Emea is concerned”, he remarked dryly. It was the closest thing to a compliment he would give, for now. He found it almost as hard to talk about his weaknesses as Llyr, although he never stuttered or blushed, considering such to be pointless.

“You’re welcome”, he remarked as Llyr thanked him for putting up with him and answering his questions. He hadn’t really minded. “As for our arrangement, am I correct in assuming that you did not enter my dreamscape in order to talk about alchemy then?”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Llyr didn’t answer the surprise from Doran when the older man tried to grasp at the potential that Emea provided him, now. It reminded him of Kasoria, somewhat, who had similarly seemed baffled at just how much seemed possible. To Llyr, however, Emea was the realm of dreams and dreams were so vast that to try and contain them was ludicrous. It was the place where anything could, and would, happen. For the young mage, unhindered by many arcs of established belief and thoughts like his older initiates, the immense potential of Emea only made perfect sense. He wasn’t aware that his naturally abstract tendencies helped him in this. Llyr barely held awareness for his own swift abilities to learn, and it rarely occurred to him that others couldn’t be as capable as he was.

He would revisit the request for theory, but for the moment he answered Doran with a promise, “I will write you of the theory, then you may reference it whenever is convenient… before you are able, and then after.” This way he’d be able to experiment some more and add it to the document before giving it to the other man.

Doran inquired to the powder he’d set in one of the vials. Llyr seemed slightly surprised by the question, then a small smile drifted on his expression. He casually pointed at the vial and answered, “I’m testing a solution that can be created in the waking world. Once the powder settles, then the blue should rise and separate from the green portions. After about five bits, the green should turn to a sort of pudding gel-like quality and absorb the rest of the solution, leaving the blue as a thin film stuck to the top of it.”

He paused, then glanced over Doran with a thoughtful survey. Their conversation turned to the circumstances of the private laboratory and why he had one. Llyr had thought the university had provided it to him, but from the sound of it, Doran had taken measures to create his own. The biqaj admired the thought, and he nodded when offered to be shown it. Though a small twinge of nervousness washed through him.

In the waking world, he didn’t look nearly as… perfected, as he did in Emea. He looked away then, a slight worry about whether Doran would think him a fraud for not revealing his imperfections in the dream world. The more he learned of the professor, and spent time in his dreamscape, Llyr found himself increasingly concerned about how the older man viewed him. Something that hadn’t crossed his mind much on their first meeting.

When Doran stepped closer, and offered words of encouragement, a twinge of nervousness returned and strengthened into a fluttered feeling in his chest. Llyr blushed. He nodded. While the older man’s tone had been almost monotone in delivery, he couldn’t help but feel not only praised but accepted. He traded his appreciation in turn, hoping to balance the way he felt by doing so.

“…am I correct in assuming that you did not enter my dreamscape in order to talk about alchemy then?”

Llyr nodded once more. “You are. This was…” he paused on which word he desired to use and then decided, “…unexpected. Pleasant and I would like to stay for the duration of your sleep, if you’ll have me remain, but not why I came here.”

“There are some items and books I’d like for you to see if you can acquire for me. For much of it, I was unable to find actual titles, but I’ve listed the subjects as I assume the libraries organize their shelves by topic?” Llyr considered to add something, but then shook his head and decided against it. His face had paled again, and his mood evened into a gentle calm. He leaned and tapped his finger lightly against the vial where the green powder had started to separate from the blue. “I’ll leave the list by your bedside… or wherever you are currently sleeping.”

“Do you possess blood within your veins, Doctor Thetys?” asked Llyr as if the answer wasn’t obvious. He stared at Doran, as if to not explain… but then he gave in and offered, “Once the green does prove to turn… sticky, then I’d like to test it with fresh human blood next. In the waking world, it can be used to keep blood from spilling everywhere and I’m curious to see if this remains true here. I wouldn’t want to take from the collection you’re purifying as that is not fresh.”