"Historically, once a person's artifacts have entered the keeping of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, they do not leave it." A pause. "You will need to give me time to become accustomed to the idea."

"You didn't used to have resurrection. You will someday."

"I will develop a protocol for co-ownership. Some sort of timeshare, perhaps."

"The Silmarils - the alternate universe versions of his gems, I don't know if these ones have that name - people keep trying to lay a claim to them and it is a disaster every universe it happens in."

"A seventy-thirty split, then, that seems more than fair. Keeping them safe against his return for as long as I have is surely worth a third as much as creating them in the first place." There is more than a hint of a smile on her face.

"If there's a disaster there will be ten of me singing 'told you so'."

"I do not think I will actually withhold them. Were it me, I would certainly create a disaster if I was denied them. And you have been helpful."

"Yeah, usually the me creates the disaster. Elves can bindingly swear to do things, so we swear to kill anyone who withholds a Silmaril and then people are stupid and withhold Silmarils anyway and then lots of people die. I'm not going to do that because I know better."

"It is good to be able to learn from your mistakes."

Here's the vault. Occlus collects the relevant notes and the gems in their protective case, and then they can return to the holocron.

"You return equipped to actually learn something."

"You may also wish to learn from this one's irritating inability to erect a facade of civility when faced with the fact that all minds do not spring from exactly the same circumstances as its own," Occlus comments to Epic.

"Mes usually have a son who does the being-tolerably-polite at people."

"Should I be courteous but unhelpful? Oh, Dark Councilor, I am so flattered and delighted that you have preserved for all these centuries the works of my lifetime, it is such a shame that my creator neglected to leave in my memory how they can be put to use."

"It is a testament to both your creator's skill and luck that he survived long enough to make a holocron." Occlus sets the case down and uses the basement dweller's hand to unlock it. "What subtleties of positioning did not make it into his notes?"

"I couldn't say. What notes do you have?"

She has a fairly complete collection.

Then he can expand on them and clarify the mathematics that went into this one and the series of experiments developed off of that one and so on.

For all his interpersonal ineptness, he did have a strong grasp on the theory behind the power of ritual magic. As long as the conversation stays technically focused, Occlus finds herself actually enjoying it.

Technical conversations are unimaginably more fun, he's never been clear on why people have any other ones.

Occlus sets up an augmentation configuration and channels some of her power. The area is stirred around as if by a violent wind. She starts to laugh.

Bounce bounce.

"If I'd had this ten years ago... But I do see the flux, it seems to me almost like the beginnings of a resonance cascade, which suggests several approaches. Have you tried-" The discussion becomes technical again.

Occlus does not work from principle so well as Fienus, she is more comfortable synthesizing from known techniques. But with the breadth of her knowledge that is hardly a practical handicap.

And the principles can be applied to explain known phenomena and suggest adjustments and variations just as easily as to develop new rituals.

Then together they can make some progress. Well. She can make some progress. The holocron can't learn anything and will be back at the beginning next time it's activated.

It's really annoying how that works. If he were fully a person he'd be throwing something of a tantrum.