Ðani watches the illusion, and then straightens and moves to stand the indicated distance from Maenik. Her face is serious — but underneath, she's visibly excited and a little nervous.

"Sarav. Pav sarav do Magic a pi," she requests, holding out her hand.

Alright they're doing this then. Maenik takes Ðani's hand and channels her magic through the point of contact. 

A sensation of something a bit like warmth spreads through Ðani's body starting in her hand. Little bits of discomfort that she hadn’t even noticed flee before the gentle ebb of magic filling something that isn't quite her body but is certainly connected to it.

The sensation builds a little as it spreads carrying her attention with it to every finger, every toe and everywhere else. Once it encompasses her whole self it deepens somehow, or perhaps ignites? There's no perfect word for it but she knows instinctively that something important has happened; she knows the magic inside her isn't Maenik's anymore it's Ðani's. The sensation is more than a little overwhelming.

Ðani staggers a little, but catches herself. She holds her hand in front of her face and turns it, feeling the movement with her new sense. The sense of magic inside her.

She tries moving it, experimentally, sort of mounding it up in her hand and then letting it drain back again. It feels good — like jumping into the lake at the end of a long day.

Experimentally, she tries standing on one foot and placing the other in the air, trying to see if she can step up into the air like Maenik did earlier.

That would require a trick she doesn't know. Maenik makes it look easy but that's because she was using hidden tools.

Maenik smiles and picks up a stone from the ground and Ðani feels that Maenik is doing something with her new sense. Then Maenik holds out the stone. "Sarav pi eg a do."

"Mat."

Ðani takes it and turns it over in her hands, trying to see if she can tell what Maenik did to it.

Daskal watches intently.

There's a feeling of absence inside the rock that's almost an inverse of the new sense she has that her magic is there.

... huh.

Ðani tries pooling some of her new magic in her fingertip, and then pushing it into the rock. Just a little.

Maenik watches on.

The rock seems to pull on the magic she gives it, not enough that she couldn't pull it back but enough to be noticable. There's some sort of network of passages inside the rock.

Ðani is not immune to the common þereminian condition of being utterly distracted by something interesting.

She tries pulling her magic back, and then seeing if she can guide it through specific channels and thereby see the structure inside the rock.

If she has her magic follow the pathways they seem to shape her magic and push it out of the rock and into the air around her. It's almost like the air around her becomes part of her body as far as her magic is concerned. She can tell the magic is doing something out there in the air but it's not immediately clear what.

Hmm. But if the air is like her body ...

She tries to see if she can put another finger next to the air and push magic into it directly, and then whether she can wiggle the air around, or feel where it touches things.

Channeling magic into the air near her finger interacts with the magic already there. She can feel the magic from the stone congeal around her finger and form a path from her finger down to and into the ground. Her finger is stuck in place.

Uh.

She gently tugs her finger, trying to feel how solidly the magic will resist.

This is too many moving parts; she doesn't understand what's happening here. Clearly the patterns in the rock are doing something, but why do they change how her magic behaves in the air, compared to just sending it out of her fingers?

She tries to see if she can feel the difference between magic that has been expressed through the rock, and magic that hasn't.

She could support her whole weight on that finger. Probably not comfortably though.

The magic that passed through the rock has a different texture to it an intricate texture at that. It's not immediately obvious how she could make her magic match that without the help of the rock. Maybe she could make a simpler texture but she doesn't have a good way of knowing what a different texture would do.

Hmm.

Ðani considers her options. She knows that she can pull her magic back through the rock — which would, presumably, remove the texture and free her finger. Maenik probably wouldn't have handed her something that would change her magic permanently. Or she could pull the ... unstructured ... magic back, and that would presumably free it too.

Actually, that's easy to check.

She pulls the non-rock magic back into her finger, and checks that this lets her move it again. Then she puts it back, because she has a better idea:

Even if the texture is too complex for her to produce, can she reach out and ... smooth it out? Maybe if she can turn it back into normal magic that will free her finger as well. And if she can't, that's certainly worth knowing.

If her normal magic is dry sand the magic that's passed through the rock is wet. It wants to retain its texture but it's still hers she can smooth it out with enough focus and that does free her finger.

Hmm.

Ðani sits crosslegged in the street, having more or less forgotten that there are other people here watching her poke a rock.

So she has seen magic be: mounded up, spread out, dry, wet, smooth, and textured. None of those words are exactly right, but they capture the feeling of the thing. Maybe those are sufficient to describing all the ways magic can be, but she suspects that they aren't — this thing feels complex, like there's more waiting to be discovered. And the magic is hers; once she gets the feeling of it, she can manipulate it easily.

She tries to see if she can make magic be other ways. Can she make it cold, or loud, or jagged? Or do those not feel like the right kind of thing?

Focusing on the temperature of her magic it feels like it matches the density of it or maybe it's warmer where it's doing things whether supporting her body or holding her finger in place.

If she tries to think of her magic as being a sound it seems like it's a different way of perceiving the same information. The magic inside her body sounds a bit like her heartbeat, the free magic in the outside is like the sound of a breeze, and the structured magic is like an instrument or a voice singing a song. The loudness matches to the feel of density in the substance frame.

Jaggedness or smoothness is most naturally a different way to perceive texture. She can try some simple textures but unless she's very lucky none of them do anything immediately obvious.

She plays around with the different perspectives. Thinking of it like sand seems most natural, but the textures are almost more like yarn, or perhaps wood ...

When Ðani has been experimenting with her magic for a reasonable amount of time (read: entirely too long, in Daskal's opinion), he interjects with a question.

She startles, and looks up from where she's been repeatedly poking the rock in slightly different ways.

"Vuuu ... Maenik, guregu saravi mena—" she starts to say, and then catches herself and rephrases. "Maenik, gu regu sarav banak a pi? Sareh do Magic, regu sarav banak?"

"Sarav banak." She agrees. She takes a slim block of metal from a pocket in her pants and holds it out. "Magic pi gas do eg."

She doesn't really have enough of a grasp on what Magic is to guess what that entails, or how this is going to communicate anything to her, but Maenik is clearly the expert here.

She reaches out and gently grasps the block.

There's a similar feeling of emptiness or perhaps vaccum if she has that concept to the rock but she can also feel some of Maenik's magic in the metal.