Ether the Gentle

[Alistair]

27th of Ashan, Arc 718

Ether was the fount from which all magic flowed. All of the arcane domains began with it, and all of them harnessed and utilized it for the sake of power. Transmutation, as a magic, was almost wholly centered around the usage of ether - making it a natural part of one's interactions, and utilizing it within daily life. More than that, it delved into the metaphysical implications of magic, and the source of those implications: Emea, and the fractures that acted like bridges.

Alistair had always been immensely compelled by the magic, but he knew too little of it to really instruct Jonathan on specific things. He could only act as a base for Transmutation, using knowledge from non-specific books, far from modern. These instructions acted not as specific guidelines, but instead wholly as theories and suppositions, though as they had been written by a performing Transmuter, they were not necessarily false.

Transmutation was Etherism, the study of ether and how it worked. From there all of its branches and mangled appendages spawned, and each ability was merely a consequence of the study. Many therefore consider Transmutation a natural and pure discipline, whereas the others act as marred magics influenced by the often unnecessary inhibitions of the spark. Whatever the case, Transmutation was a fantastic baseline magic, as well as an excellent supplementary one. They were artificers, ether commanders, and delvers of fractures - ultimately, all things mages needed for the greatest of success.

Knowing this, Alistair was compelled into asking, firstly and before anything else...

"Would you initiate me?" he asked Jonathan. "Into Transmutation," he clarified. "I would gain a better understanding, and we could learn and grow in the domain together. So--" he continued, "Would you?"

Initiation was... a sacred bond, of sorts. It intricately tied two together; it wasn't an easy thing to request. But the mage wanted it, and sought it, and now he could have it... and have a partner to learn it with. He had to know.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon liked transmutation. It was an interesting discipline to him. It seemed to work magic and ether like fine tools. One could change something, shift it, fix it or destroy it. It was one of the purest disciplines; much like a carpenter or masonry expert. It required a lot of fine-tuning with one's hands and ether, and that was why Jon enjoyed it. While it wasn't too physically taxing, it was mentally difficult to keep oneself grounded in reality. That was why his father had never gone beyond using it as a tool. He'd warned Jon of exactly how dangerous the sort of thing could be; puncturing the veil between oneself and Emea was nothing to sneeze at.

'Those who fail are condemned to become part of it. You cannot initiate this man, not yet. You risk yourself, and you risk him. A novice mage cannot give that piece of himself, even to a powerful one. He will simply have to be patient, and foster your spark a little more before he can take a piece of it for himself.' Daeva told him sharply. She didn't want him to do this. Not yet. 'You will become bound to him for the rest of your days. Not as closely as you and I, but then again close enough. Your father initiated you as a son. Giving this to Alistair this soon is akin to proposing a relationship.'

Jonathan wanted to help Alistair. He wanted to explore their magic together and it would be so much easier if they shared it. "I can't." he said. "It's not out of a....it's not like I don't want to. But I don't know enough about it yet. I've barely identified more than gemstones and the one well you handed me. I think...I think I'd be risking us both if I tried. I can't do that to you." He wasn't sure how to get his point across. "If you fail this, you're not going to be human anymore. Emea will claim you. You won't be human, you won't even be a mage. Some people think that is where Harvesters come from...people who couldn't pass through that veil."

]

[Alistair]

Jonathan refused him, but for good reason, which offered Alistair an eventual positive first impression, something that had been largely lacking between the two. While Alistair had been momentarily impressed by certain things Jonathan did and expressed, no act was so compelling as to deny a master mage an initiation out of caution - and perfectly reasoned caution. The instinct to impress and bind together with a more powerful magister was compelling, but Jonathan was clearly not so easily persuaded.

So, Alistair nodded, and grinned. "Alright," he said, not stating any displeasure in doing so. He was still cold and stern towards Jonathan, but he'd clearly lost much of his... crudeness. "I'm satisfied by your reasoning," said Alistair, understating his gratitude for the mage's patience. He didn't want to make him too confident, nor inversely show him that hesitation was always the way. Sometimes, embracing an instinct was the right thing to do. Magic was a many, variable entity.

"Let's learn about it together, then. About the abilities," he said. "How many spells do you know of at your competency? Is identification the only?" he asked. "Actually --" he interrupted himself, "Let's not worry about the abilities. Tell me the fundamentals of Transmutation, beyond merely ether and the study of it. What do you do? How do you bring it to life? Help me envision it, so that I can help you discover what the spark wants. All magic is a relationship - between you, and the spark. Each spark wants to be treated a different way. This one has its own way; how does it operate? What does a Transmuter do?" Alistair questioned leadingly, providing Jonathan the chance at an explanation for his own expertise, and offering the two of them jointly a method at which to approach this strange new mechanism.

Unlike with Aberration, they did not have Daeva to explain qualities or aspects; the palette, the expression and the inherent nature of a Transmuter was up to Jon to describe, if not the books he may use as a crutch.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon was relieved that Alistair agreed with him. Well, relief was an understatement. Given the nature of their relationship he'd half-expected the more powerful mage to force him into an initiation, or turn him out on the spot as a student. He was far more relieved that Alistair was a lot more cautious than he'd given him credit for, and it made Alistair a lot more credible as a teacher. Jon offered him a little smile in return to Alistair's grin, and shrugged his shoulders at the mention of abilities. He didn't know an entire lot about Transmutation, only what he felt, and when Alistair switched to asking him about the truth of Transmutation he could speak a lot better about it.

"Transmutation is immersing an object into ether, and bringing it back out the way you want it. It's...my father described it as forging weapons underwater. Plunging something into ether, forcing it apart or back together in the way you want it, not the way the object wants. If you make that bridge between yourself and Emea, and you're only using it as a conduit to fix something or change it, it tends to have a mind of its own. I liked my mother's explanation a little better; it's like sewing. You are the needle, ether is the thread, and the object is whatever you want it to be. You have to dive into that object carrying your ether, and come out again having made a very small knit in its material." Jon explained. He smirked. "To me, it's more like clay. You work the raw material with ether guiding your hands, and if you're very luck you come out with a vase. Fuck up, and it flies off the wheel in pieces."

Jon looked around on the ground for a moment, kicking in the grass and kneeling down to pick up a rock. He rolled it in his palm, extending a tiny tendril of ether around it. Feeling it, sweeping over the surface of the small stone. "See this? You could turn this into a nugget of pure gold, or blow it to pieces. It all depends on how you use your ether, how skilled you are, and how much time you're willing to put into it. Transmutation isn't an impatient person's game. My father could take hours healing a little crack in a gemstone, and he'd need complete and utter concentration to do it." he explained. "I know, just from holding it, that this is a granite composite. It's been worn down by weather and rain, and acids in the soil. That's what gives it this pitted appearance. Identification isn't just knowing that this is granite...it's also knowing that this chipped off your roof a good three seasons back and has been worn down ever since."

He smirked. "Might wanna look at your roof." he tossed it to the ground. "I never figured out how to change one thing to another. Only to identify. I used it to knit two pieces of torn paper together once, but I lost the words written on it. It's simple and yet complicated in that way."

"Dicam"

"Dicam"

"Dicam"

[Alistair]

Jonathan's explanation was thorough, compelling and in-depth. Transmutation was the act of immersing something in ether, and carving with it. From everything he'd said, it was certainly comparable to carving, though he could also compellingly describe it as a surgical sort of arcana. The ether could act as a sewing needle, a miner's pick, a carving knife or a scalpel - there was a wide variety of usages, which made transmuted ether an excellent tool.

"Excellent explanations," Alistair commended him, nodding. "You are visualizing it, and speaking of it through metaphor. A wise mage will always do so for all such magics. Magic is a world misunderstood, of inexplicable properties. It cannot be understood easily by your own mind and certainly not by others, which merits bringing it into the mortal understanding through other means. Comparisons. Needle, clay, forging weapons underwater. I appreciate your verbiage, as well as your attention to detail. We will need that for each and every ability," Alistair recommended, imparting one of his first bits of usable knowledge to the other, much contrary to the other breaks they'd spent arguing and biting at one another.

"Now--" he continued, clapping his hands together to refocus the attention, "What's the next ability? We must learn Transmutation one ability at a time, progressively," Alistair stated. He'd deeply wished Damien were around, considering he knew of the vast majority of the abilities. Alistair, contrarily, did not.

But, if he were to summon his Lich, it would almost give the other mage leave to summon his Harvester - and he didn't want to have that argument again.

"What about..." he whispered, before sighing in defeat. "Alright - sod it, we're bringing him in," Alistair lamented, feeling the impotence of being an unknowing teacher. Gods.

A portal opened, appearing much like a twisting nether of black, with innumerable indigo layers within. Damien stumbled out of it momentarily afterwards, denoting that Alistair clearly used pulling on the other side, to ensure he did not simply stand by and allow the portal to sit. Alistair grimaced. "Damien, what's the Transmutation ability after Identify?" he asked.

"My Lord, how did you know where I was? That's horrific, Ali. I was off in a sodding forest somewhere; not exactly a memorable place," the Lich stared, quirking a brow at his old apprentice, and the apprentice's new apprentice. Then, he simply whispered oh beneath his breath - the other mage was handsome, certainly.

Alistair waved away his protestations. "You're old, Damien. Old people are predictable - they have the same routine, and they slog along at a Seeker's pace," the mage teased, whilst also un-subtly flinging shit at the Seekers. They were worthless.

"What's the next ability after Identify?" he asked again.

"Erm - corrosion. The act of corroding non-living objects through focused spots of ether, whether directly or from afar. Want me to write a list for you, great learned one? I can tell you're rather struggling," the man stated, laughing gently. Alistair grumbled.

"Just stay," he requested. "We'll need your wisdom. I can translate your hyperbolic ancient Common, but we need your hyperbolic ancient common to begin with. Oh, and... Jonathan. This is Damien Noch, a dear friend of mine and the man who was to me who I am to you. Equally as harsh, I'd say, but certifiably more lovable. As much as a dead man can be," he teased. Though Alistair mentioned his state of death for a reason - to show Jon that he wasn't completely unwanted. They were, already, a cabal of strange people. Men who were wholly rejected by society. It was why even an Aberrant could fit.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon grinned at the praise, warming to it. His father, while a skilled craftsman had been an endlessly strict man. He hadn't praised Jonathan much, and that had led to an entire host of mistakes in his youth. Having a teacher that would dispense praise as quickly as punishment was something Jon could get used to. He liked that Alistair enjoyed the comparisons. As far as the next ability, Jon didn't have a clue. Identification was as far as he'd gotten, and he'd never seen much of anything else from his father. He shrugged his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes a little when Alistair opened the portal.

It immediately drew Jon in.
Black as pitch with streaks of deep navy, swirling and tearing a rift into the open air. Jon wanted it to stay, he wanted to study it, but the creature that fell out was equally as interesting. Damien. Ah, he knew that expression. Jon knew he was handsome. He winked at Damien flirtatiously. He hadn't had a boy toy in a long time, and his master's servant was as good as any place to start. He grinned at Damien and hooked his thumbs into his trousers, letting a little skin show. "He doesn't look that old to me." he joked with Alistair. He approached the lich and offered his hand. "Jonathan Burr. My Harvester is Daeva. She's been instructed not to show up but eh, you know her when you see her."

Corrosion. Hm. Jon frowned and went back to the rock, picking it up. "I'm not sure how that would work...Corrosion, that is. But I can try." he said, a little unsure. He was comfortable Identifying, but not so much corroding. "How would one begin to corrode?" he asked Damien. "And can I corrode anyone's clothing.."
"Dicam"

"Dicam"

[Alistair]

Damien immediately liked Jon, as he showed a fiery sort of spirit. He flirted and teased, either unaware of the sexual disconnect of Liches, or pursuing such flirtations regardless. He likened him to Theodore - playful, immediate, charming. Unfortunately, Theodore had gone and died, and hopefully Jonathan would not pursue the same future. To that end, he immediately nodded upon the assertion that Daeva was not allowed to present herself, believing similarly to Alistair.

"A Harvester must never reveal themselves in public - the death of their master follows," he said, stating from precedent.

As for Corrosion, the Lich attempted to take his many questions, one at a time. "Erm..." he whispered beneath his breath, finding it difficult to try and explain it. He'd begun Transmuting several decades ago - before he was undead. What was instinct to him now was clearly a difficult technique arcs ago, but he could not wholly wrap his head around how he'd utilized it.

The follow-up question, of course, drew his attention. Damien was an unrepentant torturer of Alistair, and so he could demonstrate the answer to this more clearly. Ali, simply staring back and forth between the two, would not immediately notice as the form-fitting shirt above his pectorals began to degrade, leaving open holes that showed solely his two nipples. The mage, who was naturally insulated especially due to Metamusculature, did not grasp the change in temperature affecting his... areola and simply continued glancing.

"Indeed," Damien nodded, verbally responding so as to not warn Alistair of the more direct response he'd given.

"Just... look at the object, and draw your ether to it like with any other thing. Then with that ether, feel it, feel the components. Unthread them, tear them apart. In the case of clothes, imagine a thousand tiny blades viscerally cutting at the threads and weaves of cotton, conjoined to make the fabric. Or you can imagine melting it, the ether sinking into the materials and consuming them. There are many ways to view it - and only one result. Try it," he suggested.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jon grinned at Damien. Clearly they cut from the same cloth, and it took everything in him not to start laughing out loud at the way the Lich just eroded the fabric around Alistair's nipples. He bit his bottom lip and looked at the rock in his hand. He drew himself to it, and around it. His ether gently probed and settled on the stone like a living thing, and he began to reach through it. He chipped away at the stone like a mason at his tools, and the little pits in the granite began to widen. When he withdrew his ether from the rock, it looked more like a sponge, with hundreds of holes burrowed into it. He showed it to Damien.

Then he reached his ether toward Alistair. It glided over Alistair's clothing, nibbling and searching among the threads. Jon imagined little insects chewing and tearing at the fabric around Alistair's groin. His ether, with thousands of little teeth, gnawing away at the fabric and tearing little holes. The little holes married themselves into one big hole, and Jon surveyed his work. "Oh, I think I'll like corrosion." he told Damien with a grin. "I think that little trick will come in handy with you later, Damien." His eyes raked up and down the Lich's form, communicating what his words hadn't necessarily said. Come to think of it, his father could have used Corrosion to shape gemstones a little more effectively, and his attention turned back to the stone. Slowly, he sheared away little portions of it. It was harder than simply allowing his ether to degrade the stone as a whole, and it required a lot more concentration.

He had to stare at the stone for a few minutes to get the pristine mockery of a trillion cut stone...but when he finished, it was perfect. He narrowed his eyes, and poured a little more ether into it. This time he degraded, but it was different. His ether swept over the stone like a hand sweeping away grains of sand. Slowly, the stone polished, and polished, until it was smooth. Jon grinned at his own achievement, and tossed it at Damien. "For you, sweetheart."

[Alistair]

Considering the briefs beneath his linen trousers, Alistair merely stared quietly as Jonathan continued to work, wholly oblivious to the second portion of his clothes that had been degraded. Now, the mage's bulge was available for viewing against the singular layer of his undergarbs, which was a thought that would be surely horrifying if he'd imagined any patients or business partners swinging by the vacant yards and fields surrounding Kaelserad.

Alistair was doubly reinforced in his ignorance by the corrosion of the rock, polishing it and degrading its... flaws. He offered this to the Lich, who entirely contained his snickering, something quite trivial for a Lich - who could cut themselves off from the baseline of their body. Of course, the same was said regarding his flirtation, something that the mage merely smirked at, but did not immediately respond to. He would, eventually, but - not right now. Alistair was already on the verge of throwing him into a portal that led to, virtually, nowhere - something he did often to those who exceptionally irritated him.

A role Damien fulfilled often.

Alistair already thought the two were far too perfect for one another - both ridiculous, fixated on ridiculous things, acting in ridiculous ways. He normally partook in humor too, but... not right now. He wanted to be a stern, unrepentant master. A guardian for the other mage, who would discipline his instincts. It was difficult for him to let loose this trill, and so, he merely listened and tried to ensure that his eyes did not roll too far into his skull.

"Thank you," the Lich responded, kissing the rock with his surprisingly pink lips. He scarcely looked different from any other man - just, perhaps, a bit odd in how his body moved. Not everything came together immediately, and sometimes he needed to correct his position and movements upon realizing they were flawed. Joints did not control him, nor nerves, but rather a guidance based on memory.

"Now," Damien started, smoothing his hands over the rock, gliding each palm rather soothingly over the soft surface. He then tossed it back, offering Jonathan another trial. "Identify it again. See how the history has changed?" he asked. "Identification can be used to understand the work of other Transmuters, and your own. It acts as validation and appraisal for your objects, artifices and artifacts, and it will help guide you towards perfect ethereal crafting in the eventual future. Use it, always, as a matter of instinct. You need to know the structure and make of an object, after each and every touch you add. Otherwise, that object may shatter, and the consequences may be severe," he warned, offering his wisdom.

But that was enough of that. Damien had a thought, and Alistair had a suggestion. The two of them would seem mentally linked to an unknown bystander, as the two often coincided in what they felt was for the best.

"We're teaching him Transmutation so that he may defend himself without relying upon Aberration," Alistair informed the Lich, who nodded.

"Sensible," Damien simply stated. "Bolstering, then. We'll learn about that next. But first... let's go to that spot we... found," he said, half-hesitantly. Damien would say they did more than 'find' it - he and Alistair were directly responsible for it. "I think it'd be a good place to learn."

Alistair nodded; they were in immediate, if not preemptive agreement. The black blot that was his portal once again appeared, space torn before them. Alistair suggested that the others step through, before doing so himself. When they came out on the other side, the Willow Woods would appear before them... and a clearing filled with wooden stakes shoved into the ground, long enough to match the beginning of the men's waistlines. A grave, though the men buried at the end of the splintering blades were not ordinary or typical, nor were the circumstances around their death.

"A proper place to Identify, Corrode, and Bolster," Damien nodded. "I suggest we set up for the evening, perhaps even unto tomorrow. Magical abilities are not so easy to master, and I want to review Jonathan's spells before we separate," he said. Alistair agreed; they'd camp if need be. He'd cleared out his days for a reason, content to spend much of his time instructing the upcoming mage. Alistair had no true magical legacy, and it would have been a great feat to turn an Aberrant into a mage of great reach.

So, while everything may have seemed sudden, he did not question his own actions. This was simply the way it would be; the apprentice would garner an inordinate amount of his attention, but only as progress showed, and he was confident that he would. Alistair found himself looking upon Jonathan far more often, staring at his features, accentuated by his beard and his masculine face. He was intelligent; more than he'd realized. He was, also, tamed... at least to an extent.

Camping out in the Willow Woods again sounded fun. Particularly considering the three men hadn't brought anything in advance; Alistair would need to, once again, put his Fieldcraft to the test.

[Jonathan Burr]

Jonathan enjoyed the reactions of the Lich far more than he probably should. He grinned at Damien and stared openly at the bulge Alistair had on display. If he would have concentrated more perhaps he could have torn holes in those briefs and really seen what his teacher was packing. For the moment he liked what he saw and liked the shared joke between himself and the Lich. He was all smiles, and though he felt the trick was a bit goofy he could see the implications beneath it. Who was to say one couldn’t erode a man’s skin or the bones hidden deep within his flesh? Transmutation could in itself be a terrifying tool as well as an instrument to refine and build. Jon resolved to respect it a little more from now on.

He caught the stone as it was tossed back to him, and his ether enrobed it once again. Now he could feel what he had done, surgically planing and smoothing the stone until it had shone like glass. His experimental putting of its inner workings and the Lich’s kiss. He shivered at the last and gave Damien a look simultaneously fascinated and full of desire. He flipped the stone in his fingers and mulled over his words. A working history of everything ever done to the stone or by another Transmuter. They signed their work just like he’d inadvertently signed his. “Does that mean I’ll be able to know every gem my father has purified and prepared? Just by feeling out his signature on the stone?” He said quietly. It was a massive implication, and he could see the dangers. “Someone could use such a thing to track and destroy Transmuters. Or force them to construct things. I could find my fathers work at any shop in Etzos.” He looked at Damien to confirm his suspicions.

He tossed the stone back at Damien. “It’s yours. Remember me when I’m making artifacts.” He smirked at the Lich. Then gods, the portal was back. He was allowed to go through it this time but he hesitated. He gently touched the outside, fascinated by the construction, and when he finally stepped through he did so slowly to savor the sensation. It was a gateway, a unique thing that needed to be studied. He was suddenly in the woods, and he smirked at the pair. It was a fine training ground. “You know, I like this little camping trip. I call the same tent as Damien.” He went up to the Lich and slithered an arm around his waist. “What do you say? Want to share a bedroll?”