And immediately after he leaves the crack between the rocks, a spear of ice comes hurtling his way. 

What the-!?

The ice spear can be met by a bunch other ice spears coming from the ground at an angle. While, Zephyrinus makes a quick assessment of his surroundings while moving.

He appears to have wandered onto a battlefield! A variety of elemental attacks are being thrown back and forth, along with terrain-altering defensive ones, by several dozen people across the wide, rocky field before him. There looks to be two sides, based on the way the fighters are dressed. Many are also wielding weapons, and they seem to be aiming to kill. There are bodies littered over the field, either injured or worse. 

His display of defensive ice spears has attracted some attention. The nearest combatants break off from their fight to turn to him warily. Both are from the same faction, wearing light loose clothes which are wrapped from elbow and knee down, thick body armour, and armoured bracers. One carries a plain sword, the other an ornate rod. The rod-bearer hovers behind the other, keeping an eye on their surroundings while he gives the unknown element his full attention.  

-This guy is winged and blue, why is he blue, is he some kind of humanoid monster, there shouldn't be any within miles of a battlefield this loud but you can never be sure-

He holds his sword defensively but doesn't make to attack. If this newcomer isn't with the Empire then he doesn't want to drive him to side against them of his own accord. 

Okay. He will run for cover and try to make sense of the situation. Not flying yet. Sounds like a way to make himself an even more obvious target.

He doesn't recognize the place. Maybe there was a portal in that rock formation? Mind magic? He will have to investigate once there is less of a war happening around him. ...Everyone is in the same shape, which is very odd. Even the people dead or hurt. Even if they are all slaves... how would two sides coordinate to have so many slave soldiers locked into a single shape?

He stares at the two on his path and tries to circle around them without looking away from them.

He turns with him, letting him circle around them but keeping him in his line of sight. The lieutenant behind him - he thinks his name is Kion - turns to fend off someone thinking to take advantage of his distraction. Ilek twitches but leaves it to him. 

His eyes turn to look past the strange being as he catches sight of a fireball coming their way. He tenses, preparing to dive out of the way. 

Well, that's sure something destructive coming their way. The blue stranger doesn't want anyone from either side to die. And the easiest solution to this problem is a dome of ice around them all.

He is extremely alarmed by this! That much manipulation - it's not particularly wet here either he must have made that entirely from mana - does he have an artefact - that has to be high second tier! 

Kion catches his breath from the prolonged casting he'd been doing and turns around to focus on the new threat. Ilek waves him down when he looks ready to start casting, "Let me try talking," he mutters, grimacing. 

"Are you with the Empire?" He calls over. 

Oh, lord. Translation problems. And Hibera forms are not particularly good at this sort of thing. He says something that's clearly in a foreign language.

Well shit. He doesn't have a translation runestone, or know a spell for it.

Jaim does, but they're kind of in the middle of a battle here...

Still, if he doesn't speak Imperial, he's probably not with the Empire. They're pretty serious about stamping out other langauges.

He lowers his weapon a bit and glances at Kion. The man shrugs, "I don't recognise it, Highness," he says regretfully, "And I specialise in combat magic," he adds. 

He looks over at the blue winged being and runs a hand through his hair in stress. He looks at the dome, points at it, and then makes a flat-palmed downward gesture, "Could you lower that? We were in the middle of something," he requests, hoping the gesture will get across if not the words. 

He's no use in diplomacy, but there's a fight going on, which is something he's good at.

He raises a hand. He considers changing shapes, but that could be construed as hostile. And leave him right open.

Instead, he switches powers, his veins pop-up like he is under a lot of pain (which he is), and then... okay, this version of ice manipulation has awesome range and good precision. With that, he doesn't take the dome down, but creates a hatch and invites them to step out.

Elsewhere, on the battlefield... Ice is not the most healing or soothing of the elements, but it's better than bleeding to death. People might notice that a lot of the soldiers find their open wounds frozen.

He squints in confusion at the vein-popping, but is quickly distracted by the hatch. 

He nods, "Thanks," he says, uselessly, and carefully proceeds out of the dome, wary of any attack. 

As the hole opens, Jaim pauses in his rampage towards it. Catching sight of his brother cautiously coming through it, he turns his attention on clearing the area for him, pelting nearby Imperials with exploding fire arrows. 

The ice will probably be very helpful for anyone wounded by those.

His reckless abandonment of mana conservation does send the ones still standing into retreat, however. Hopefully he won't have cause to regret being low on reserves. 

The arrows are not ineffective, but are less effective, at least by themselves. The targets find themselves bound by ice bonds and then flying away. This sounds like a sufficiently good strategy that Zephyr starts applying around the field.

He, however, does not apply it to just one side. Even if the three immediately around him are not affected.

Most of the fighting has stopped by the time this happens, but it fully stops after a couple of people from each side are iced over and flung across the field. 

The Imperials commit to a retreat at this point, all who are still mobile following after Jaim's targets. 

Some of the people still standing start checking over downed soldiers, of both types. They're confused by the ice but do their best to heal what they can despite it. The enemy soldiers are lightly patched up, to ensure they survive to be taken prisoner. 

Jaim himself pauses in his attacks as well. With the fighting winding down he lowers his Bow and jogs over to Ilek.

"Who's this?" 

Ilek shakes his head, "Don't know. He doesn't speak Imperial," he offers, "Or any other language we recognise," he adds, nodding towards Kion, who is focusing on a nearby downed enemy. 

Jaim nods, reaching into a pouch on his belt for his translation runestone. 

They don't really know how these things work. They're just copied whole cloth from the ones in Sanctuary. He directs a bit of Illusion magic into it and then turns to the newcomer, "Can you understand me?" 

"I can now." He still suspicious and on guard. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes." He pauses, not entirely sure how to continue. It would probably be rude to ask if he's a monster if he is, in fact, not. Better to avoid the question for now. 

"What are you doing here? I would expect unaffiliated people to avoid the warfront, let alone an actual battlefield." 

"I am unaware of how I got here, which was just moments ago. I don't know by which method. There weren't any warfronts near where I was."

He frowns, "That's... odd. I don't know of any magic that can transport a person without them noticing." He has no reason to believe or disbelieve this person, except that they claim something so odd when a much simpler explanation would be more readily believed - like that this happened to be his territory, or he was just flying by. 

Humming in thought, he glances over the field, noting that his people seem to have the injured and dead well in hand. Someone has gone to examine and retrieve the people who had been flung away encased in ice, and everyone who can't walk is being carefully floated with space or air magic. 

"Come back with us to camp? We can speak more safely behind our fortifications. I'm afraid we're not exactly prepared to set up on this specific field. It's on the outer range of our patrolled territory, though we might have to set up a watch on it in case more lost people appear." 

"And I would be coming as a guest?" He does not propose the alternative of coming as a prisoner.

"Of course. You don't appear to be Imperial, or hostile - ice aside. None of my people have been harmed. I wouldn't want to leave anyone out here to be attacked by anyone too spell-happy - though I suppose with those wings you could avoid us all entirely."  

Zephyr response to this is a simple nod.

So he leads him, and the column of soldiers, wounded, and prisoners, back to the camp.

They've set up inside magically constructed walls on a hilltop, the walls carved with runes for anti-magic and stability. The ward dome surrounding it shimmers lightly as they pass through the gates, currently set on passive and therefore not preventing entry. 

The camp is bustling, people rushing to and fro on their duties, a large contingent coming to help the returning soldiers move the wounded to the infirmary and the prisoners to the cells. Unburdened, many of the soldiers make their way to the large building to the right which houses the kitchens. Many more can be seen eating at the tables outside. He still shouldn't be able to understand any of them - the runestone only allows Jaim to understand him and vice-versa. 

Approaching the command center, a stone building in the center of the camp, he pauses to look at the stranger's wings. 

"I'm not sure you'll be able to get through the door," he says apologetically. It's wide enough for two people to go through at a time, but only a head taller than most men. 

Head-tilt.

The wings... press against themselves, not shrinking just retracting like arms holding tight against the body. And then he removes them. 

He stares for a long moment, then blinks hard and shakes his head. He is starting to strongly suspect that this situation is much farther out of his experience than he'd first thought. 

He leads his guest into the command center. It's fairly busy in there, clerks going over resources and messengers bringing one of the Captains word from returning patrols. The fort Commander is pouring over the map on the table, showing their surroundings. She looks up at Jaim's entrance and then pushes to her feet quickly, looking extremely relieved. 

"General, it's a relief to see you well," she says, "Is Prince Ilek-?" 

"He's fine," Jaim assures her, his words proven when Ilek files in behind the stranger. "The arrival of our guest scared them into retreat. Hopefully they'll give us a bit more time before they next ambush one of our patrols." 

He turns to him, "General Jaim, by the way," he offers, "Of Cialin's Southern Border Forces." He motions to his sullen brother, "This is Prince Ilek of Cialin, and Commander Coen of Fort Kiat." 

"Zephyrinus Bright. As far I can tell, I landed amidst the battle by accident."

He translates for the other two, then turns back to Zephyrinus, "We have world maps which you are welcome to look at, to see if you recognise anything," he offers. 

"That would be helpful. Thank you." After a pause. "Why is everyone in a single shape?"

He blinks, "I'm... not sure what you mean? As far as I know people only have the one." 

The Commander motions for a clerk to find Zephyrinus a world map. He rifles through a cabinet for a bit before pulling one out and unrolling it over the local map on the table. 

Only the one. Well, that's sure... a three-word set with very scary repercussions.

He is almost not surprised upon seeing the map and not recognizing the land masses. "Is this... all? Are you sure of its accuracy?"

He hesitates, "Well, theoretically there could be more in the ocean to the east of this continent and the west of the other? No one has explored recently, as far as I know. There could be new islands that would not be shown on the old maps these were copied from. But, as far as large land masses go, that should be it." 

"Maybe I am misreading the scale, but I didn't get the impression that this land mass is small enough for us to have missed it."

"Well. It seems you are farther from home than either of us had thought." He pauses, "...What do you intend to do? Do you think you can get back? Our people are accustomed to taking in refugees, but given the differences between us you may have different needs than most of them." 

"Thank you... I don't know what to do, yet. I probably should change shape, I might acquire a power that can take me back home. Or at least communicate with them." And of course he should investigate the rock formation, but he is not going to say that. "What is going on with this war?"

So he can change shape, that explains the earlier question. "That's how your magic works, then? Different powers for each shape?" 

"As for the war... You currently stand on Cialin territory." He leans over the table, brushing the world map and local map to the side to reveal the map of Cialin, pointing to the location of the fort, "This is Fort Kiat," he says, "And this is where the battle you came upon was," he taps the rough spot. "This map shows the current borders, though really our claim goes to here," the borders cover perhaps a quarter of the largest continent, but the line he makes with his finger covers over half of it.

"Independent nations used to cover all of Cian, this continent, but anyone who is free of the Empire has turned to Cialin for protection over the past century. The Empire stretches over the western continent, Tor, and most of Cian. They've also been making headway in the Island Alliance to the south," he taps the huge archipelago to the south of the sea between the two continents on the world map. 

"The background here is... about thirty years after the reemergence of magic, which happened 300 years ago, the Empire formed and began conquering surrounding territory. The first Emperor was a straightforward conqueror - as far as history and those alive at the time can tell us, he simply wanted to control the world, and had the power and charisma to make the attempt. He took most of Tor in his lifetime. 

"Some of his successors have been conquerors as well, and some peacemakers, but none were as successful as the first or the current one.

"We're not sure why the current Emperor began conquering territory again," he says, "He was peaceful for the first five years of his rule, focussing on politics mostly. Then he very suddenly started mounting attacks on the borders and taking land as quickly as possible.

"We do our best to defend our borders, but the Arming Empire is so large and populous that it's not an easy task." 

"I should properly explain my kind of magic at some point, but let's get me informed about your world first. Is the Emperor only interested in violent conquest? Does he give people the chance to surrender? Not saying that you should, but it's important to know."

He nods, "The Empire accepts surrender. Some of the remaining border countries chose to surrender when the latest war started. They're partly assimilated by now - it's been about thirty years, so most of the young adults have Imperial educations. The remaining free nations, however... Besides Cialin, there is only Sanctuary, which depends on Cialin for most of their food, and the Island Alliance. The Alliance will never surrender to the Empire. Aside from the erasure of native cultures the Empire practises, the Alliance barely tolerates Cialin's equal-inheritance laws. Only men can inherit among the Imperial nobility, where women rule in the Islands." 

"Weird. No reason for the Empire's sudden expansionism? Potential internal problems?"

He frowns, "There's some rumours," he admits, "The Empress began making fewer public appearances shortly before the war broke out. She hasn't been seen at all in the past ten years, but there hasn't been an announcement of her death, or of treason or anything else. There was a rise in Imperial interest in ruins as well, but that might have just been the army searching for more Artefacts to enhance their forces."

Nod. "Can you explain those? Artefacts, that is."

He taps the Bow on his back over his shoulder, "They're... power enhancement objects? I guess that's the simplest overview. Some of them have minds, some don't. Some greatly enhance two colours - types - of magic. Others usually offer less enhancement, but across the board." 

"Do you have magic without artifacts?"

"Yes, every person has magic. Most have only a little, some have more, and a rare few have a great deal. There are eight colours of mana which we can use to shape spells, and runes with which we can create longer lasting effects. Time, Fire, Life, Earth, Water, Wind, Illusion, and Space." 

The rest of the command center has gone back to business while Jaim speaks to him. Ilek taps his brother on the shoulder and gestures towards the door, asking to be dismissed. When Jaim nods, he wanders out to go find someone to spar with.

"Huh. And you mentioned artefacts sometimes have minds. What are they like?" Which is way politer than asking if they keep slaves.

"They're..." He's not entirely sure how to articulate this, but he tries his best, "They vary. The age differs, and thus their wisdom and experience, and they have varying personalities. They're people. They just don't have any way to interact with the world except through their wielders. Without a wielder all they can do is observe, and glow, and hurt those who touch them, if they don't like a person." 

"Do they like their existence? Where their minds came from?"

He shrugs, "We don't know where they come from," he says, "And if they do, none of them are telling those of us who can hear them - and you need to have a certain amount of compatibility and experience with a given Artefact to actually trade words with them. The Nomad," he pats the Bow, "And I aren't quite there yet, though we can share pretty coherent mental images, and they can use all of my senses." 

"I think they're alright with it? The Nomad doesn't seem to mind existing, at any rate. I don't think they like being left alone, mostly, but I've never heard anyone mentioning their Artefact being unhappy to be bound to someone - if they mind they'll just refuse to bond." 

"Could an Artefact stop a bond then? Or be bound to two people taking turns?"

"The first one, absolutely. They frequently do so, even. Most Artefacts prefer not to move on to a new partner until after their previous one has died, and will accordingly refuse to bond to someone new until then if it is attempted. They're more likely to accept people their late partners were close to - spouses, lovers, children, friends. Aside from that, bonding involves a brief exchange of mana, which allows the Artefact to asses their new partner's personality before bonding, and vice versa. If they don't like you, they won't bond.

"As for sharing Artefacts, well, I have heard of it happening. If two people have an exceptionally close bond, an Artefact might agree to working with each one. Two Artefacts will roughly never agree to bonding with the same person, however - and they can tell if there is or was another bond, they leave remnants." 

Okay, it doesn't sound like he can check any of those claims in the chance that he will need to put "liberate Artefacts" in his to-do list. Also, he needs to figure out a way back home before his brothers get too desperate.

"I should change shape. Is there anywhereI could do it privately... and then dispose of the skin?"

Dispose of the skin. Well that sounds gross. Also interesting! 

"There's not much private space in a fort like this," he admits, "Would my quarters do? How messy is this exactly?" The Captains, the Commander, and his brother and himself have private quarters, but his are the only ones he can rightly offer up. 

"As for the skin... well, someone could bury or burn it?" 

"It dissolves on its own, but that also works. And I could just do it anywhere with one or two feet radius, but it's not something pleasant to look at."

Better to spare everyone the distraction, he supposes. "I suppose a storage room would do just as well, then," he says. He motions for Zephyrinus to follow him out of the room, through a door which leads to the hallway. There are a few mostly empty rooms meant for administrative supplies in the command center. They haven't recieved the latest shipment yet, so there should be enough room for the man to change shapes. 

He unlocks one of them with a tap and a thread of mana, offering the open door to Zephyrinis. Inside is a room of about six feet squared, with some boxes stacked up two feet deep in the back.

"Will this do?" 

"This works fine. It will just take me a minute." He steps inside.

He closes the door - it opens from the inside without need for a key. He leans against the wall beside it while he waits, ruffling his hair and carefully checking himself over for any injuries, now that he has a moment. Just bruises, it looks like. Good.

If Jaim is paying attention, he might hear something like a wet sound coming from the room, but it isn't that loud. And indeed after a minute. "Come in." Zephyrinus says through the door.

He is now remarkably more human looking, his skin looks sunburned but still and his hair a firey-orange, but in shades that are human-passing if you don't squint too hard. The upper half of his loose robes are tied around his waist. "Do you see why it would be dangerous to set it on fire?"

He is pointing at the discarded skin, which is sitting on a bowl of ice.

He enters, takes in his new appearance with interest, and looks as directed, "Yes," he admits after a moment, "That might be problematic. You said it would dissolve? Into more ice like this, or..." he trails off, uncertain. 

He also notes the partial nudity with some interest, but ignores it professionally. Not the time, the person or, given that this is Cialin, not Sanctuary, the place. 

"It just dissolves, and first evaporates, the ice will make it take a bit longer, but not much. It's usually safe to touch with unbroken skin."

"We could simply leave it here, in that case. I can lock this door to all except myself and the Commander, and inform her to keep it closed. There are other supplies closets." 

Shrug. "I am going to spend the next while trying to acquire a power, but I can do that while answering your questions about my world, if you want."

He smiles, "I would appreciate the chance to have them answered," he admits. "Though I think I'd like to sit while I ask," he says, making his way around the skin and his guest to perch on one of the crates at the back.

"First - can all your people change shapes in this way?"

"Yes. It's possible to lose shapes. People are born with a hereditary quantity of them and can later acquire more in special locations called pools. People that have a single shape are known of and they don't have other shapes to change into, but it's very rare for to be born with just the one. It would be... irresponsible of their parents."

"Irresponsible of the parents? If it's hereditary - people with only one shape are encouraged to have children with people with more? And why irresponsible?"

His face looks strained. "They are hereditary in a non-straightforward way." Pause. "A child will get all shapes their parents have in common, plus one of the shapes they don't have in common. If two single-shaped parents have a kid, the kid will be born with a single shape. It's irresponsible to do that because having two shapes resets your age and if you only have one you grow old and die."

He stills. 

"Your people are immortal?" He asks, stunned. 

He doesn't think on it, often, how much longer he's likely to live than his brothers - and others. They're all so young now, and it wouldn't do to dwell on it. Still, he knows that the time will come when they grow old and leave him, and he will be without them for the next two hundred years. 

The Nomad unfurls gently, reaching out to his mind to offer soothing reassurance. He might be without them, but he will never be alone. 

"Aging is not a problem if you have two shapes. If that's what you're asking. Or at least, if the shapes are young enough. Shapes have a reset age, which is the age when you first shifted in the case of your born shapes, or the age when you first acquired a shape for the acquired ones."

No aging. Gods. 

He focuses on the answers, "Can you get stuck with a second form which is forever some young age? Or can you only change once you are older?" 

"Yes, but also technically yes. A shape can die by accident or disease. Shifting is painful and doing on purpose is very hard until you are in your late teens. And shapes do age, it would be inconvenient, but one could just stick to a too young shape for years at a time."

He nods, "Alright. And the magic? Aside from the shapes. They change with the shapes, or at least... the subset of powers you can get?" He has been paying attention. 

"Yes. You can sacrifice a shape to another when a shape dies. You still lose access to it, but you gain a power, which is based on the combined shapes. Hibera - the shape I was - has themes of ice, permanence, stillness and so on, and this Aestes shape I am in right now has theme of fire, light and change. And it's more suited for communication and transportation as well. Which is why I am currently in it. One can rebind a power, losing the old one and getting another in its place. Which is what I am doing. It's painful."

"So you get a power on top of the one related to shapes if you sacrifice a dead shape? And, is there a way to be more comfortable while you rebind a power, do you want to sit or something?" Leaving guests to be uncomfortable: not good manners. He's supposed to be representing the kingdom here. 

"The shape is sacrificed as it dies, it's possible to just lose it without getting an extra power out of it. If you have non-addictive pain relief, I might accept it, but it isn't that much of a concern. I wouldn't mind sitting. There are exceptions to those magical rules. We call them shift-dancers, I am one."

He pats a crate, "You're welcome to one of these, or we could move to a more comfortable room. As for pain relief, life magic can do it, though most people who can do it would have to be touching you. I can do it, or I could call a healer for you." Admittedly most of those are a bit busy at the moment, but he thinks most would agree this person with proveably unique abilities thinking well of them is important. Particularly if he figures out how to call more like him. They're already fighting a ruinous war, no need to go looking for more people to fight. 

He shrugs. And sits on a crate. "It's probably not a good idea to try new magic interactions right away. As I was saying, there are shift-dancers, which are unique people that just show up sometimes and have unique abilities outside the regular rules. Which we call them dances - the term is from a figure of legend that could shift so easily that they could do it while dancing. Mine is having two identical brothers which are also shift-dancers with abilities that benefit the entire group. We acquire shapes as one. We share sacrifices. It allows us the unprecedented ability to get a face sacrifice and feed it to itself."

He nods thoughtfully, "So if one of you - kills a face. All of you get the power. And you aquire faces from those pools you mentioned?" He pauses in his questions, "I expect your brothers will be very worried," he says. He certainly would be. But perhaps this other world is safer than this one. Perhaps they aren't close. Jaim adores his brothers, but the king and his siblings are indifferent at best. 

"Do you think you will be able to aquire a power which will take you home? You mentioned this form is good at transportation." 

"I have not discarded the possibility that I will acquire such power. My brothers will sure do their best. We have a mild sense for each other. We might be able to use it for communication. If nothing else, the fact that I am rebinding our power will clue them in, and we might be able to use that for communication, if nothing else." He might be slightly more guarded against a very already guarded baseline.

He notices. He looks away, "I apologise if I sound - grasping. I think anyone would if they heard they could make their loved ones immortal, but eagerness is no real excuse." 

He's not entirely sincere about this, but it's true that he regrets any discomfort he might have caused. 

"Don't apologize for that. I absolutely want to figure out a way to share our form of immortality with your world."

He looks up again, "Then you are a better person than many I could name, to share something so precious with a world full of strangers." 

If his fa-the king, learned of this... King Rael would keep such a power close, refusing access to any but his most loyal soldiers and maybe his family. The man cares nothing for anything but the war, and his own authority. Jaim sometimes thinks that if the Emperor had not started the war, Rael would have.

"It is the default in my world. I can't even phantom what it must be like for it not to be."

"I think most people would like to think they would offer something like that freely. Sanctuary really would, I believe. Though given their other policies it might be hard for the average person to reach them to make use of it." 

"It wouldn't actually be trivial, the pools are controlled access with waiting lists. Sometimes you have to pay to use them. But I absolutely want to work towards the option being available and easier to access. We would need to give two shapes per person to an entire generation for the issue to be solved, but at least it would be solved."

"Are the pools actual pools? Or are they just called that? I take it even if they are literal pools taking some of their contents somewhere else to make more doesn't work." 

"They are natural pools where the water settles in, no one is quite sure why, except it's said to be a gift of the gods, and it only works if you put the person in the pool and leave them be for the time required to give them the shape. The water is more potent than regular water at dissolving people, but can't change people while away from a pool."

"Dissolving people," he repeats, "I suppose this procedure is quite painful, then." 

"Widely regarded as the worst pain possible. Though, I am pretty sure there are powers that can do worse."

"Lovely." He says, wry, "Though not too much to pay for the benefits, I suppose." 

"Well, obviously. Specially if it means that your children won't have to go through yourselves. Oh, forgot to mention that dead or sacrificed forms are not hereditary."

Before he can reply, someone knocks on the supply closet door. 

"Sir?" Comes a masculine voice, "Are you in there? The Commander sent me to ask after our guest." 

Jaim stands from his spot on the crate, startled. He strides quickly across the room and pulls the door open.

"Yes, I'm here. What did she want to know?" 

The man at the door tries to subtly peer into the room over Jaim's shoulder. Catching sight of the half-naked Zephyrinus, he carefully controls his face to prevent a raised eyebrow, and then answers his superior. 

"She wanted to know if he would be staying for a time, and if she should have one of the VIP quarters prepared, in that case." 

Jaim turns to Zephyrinus, wincing slightly when he also notices the shirtlessness again. Great, more rumour fodder. And there will be rumours, this is the Cialin military and he was schooled at the Sanctuary Academy. There's already rumours. 

Still, the question, "What are your thoughts on the matter?" He asks. 

He takes the moment that it takes for Jaim to answer the door to dispose of the last remaints of his skin.

"My thoughts on the matter is that I don't know my options or the implications of my options."

"Point," he agrees. "I can give you an overview of your options as I see them," he offers. 

"All of these are assuming you don't get a useful transportation power, and your brothers cannot retrieve you, of course. You can stay here at the fort, if you like. The Commander has offered one of the VIP quarters here, of which there is some still available. This is the largest fortification in this area, and often has important visitors. The Commander may request information on your capabilities, and perhaps your aid in some way.

"Prince Ilek and I will be here for the next five days. You will be welcome to come with us back to Fort Helen then - the fort which I am in charge of - or remain, if it suits you and the Commander. If you come with us I would love to speak more on your plans for when you manage to get in touch with your people again. 

"You might also wish to visit Sanctuary, in which case I can get you access. Sanctuary Academy is the home of the greatest minds in the world - even some Imperials used to visit when we were at peace. 

"And of course there's nothing stopping you from leaving entirely, if you choose." 

"I see. Should I make up my mind before the five days timeline?"

"If you don't want to remain here that would be best, yes," he agrees, "And in either case I suppose you might want those quarters for now." 

"I suppose so."

So he nods to the soldier, who salutes and leaves to find the Commander.

"Ah, we should probably leave the closet, with the skin dealt with," he says. "Have you eaten? ...Do you need to eat often, and what do you eat, are important questions in this case I suppose." 

"I have eaten today, and usually eat three or two times a day. Meals composed of plant or animal products, which I don't know if they match the foodstuff in your world. Where would we be heading then?"

"The mess hall," he says, "If you wished to examine our food to see if it looks edible. Otherwise... Perhaps I should find Ilek. Who knows what trouble he's gotten into." He looks a cross between tired and amused at the idea. 

Shrug. "Lets search for your charge, there is always the odd chance that I will spontaneously grow a self-nourishing power."

He nods, amused, and then leads him out of the open closet and further out of the command center. 

The training fields are towards the back of the walled space, behind the infirmary and between the two back barracks. Ilek is there, as Jaim expected. Not getting into a fight, for a wonder. 

No one in the field wants to get in a scrap with the Prince of Cialin - a lot of them are like that when he first visits a place. It takes a bit, and someone to break that barrier, before anyone will fight him. Usually he has Jaim's elites to do that, but right now they're all busy eating or healing. Or dead. 

He ran through a few forms earlier, but that got old quickly, so he went back to his rooms to grab his harp and now he's playing it softly off to the side, trying to take his mind off the battle earlier that day.

When footsteps approach him he looks up, taking in Jaim, and then Zephyrinus - or, presumably Zephyrinus.

"You look different," he comments, his hands pausing on the harpstrings. Also shirtless.

Zephyrinus asks for a translation, and assuming he gets one he says. "Yes, I changed shapes."

He gets one, and Jaim also translates back. Ilek blinks at this information. 

"Huh. Alright. Shapeshifting." He looks back down at his harp, picking out a little tune absently. 

"Have you eaten?" Jaim asks. He knows they both ate breakfast before the ill fated patrol, but it's dinner time now. 

"...No." He's been busy. With music. And not thinking. 

He sighs.

"Come on, little brother," he says, pulling him up from the ground. "You're not doing anyone any good by not eating."

"Yes, mother," he grumbles. But he goes along easily, relaxing a bit under Jaim's arm. 

"He hasn't eaten," Jaim tells Zephyrinus, "So I guess it's to the mess hall anyway, if that's alright." 

"Sure thing. Is he your literal brother?"

He winces at the slip, but, well, no one who cares is around to listen, so. 

"He is. Was. I - did something the parent we shared did not approve of." 

Ilek scowls harder at this topic of conversation. 

"Is the thing relevant to current conversation or a subject that you do not wish to discuss?"

He huffs a strained laugh. 

"It's possible you should understand the sort of person who rules this country," he says, "It may in fact be relevant to our discussion." 

He sends Ilek onwards to get some food. The teen goes, if reluctantly. Once he's out of earshot Jaim begins speaking. 

"King Rael is... a good warrior," it's really one of the best things he can say about him. "And not easily influenced by the power-chasers at court. He's a powerful mage and a true force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. But. He is not a good king. Or a good father.

"He loves his power, and he loves his armies, but he cares little for the people. He leaves that to one of his ministers - to the father lf my brothers' mother, specifically. The man's opinions of commoners are even worse than the King's, and his only desire is to gather more power for himself. Gael, the eldest of my younger brothers, does the best he can to mitigate his influence, but Lord Tain has allies in many places. 

"Worse, while Emperor Reginald may not have started as a conqueror... Rael did. If this war should turn in our favour the King would love nothing better than to have Cialin replace the Empire." 

"As for my specific story... When I was young I went to Sanctuary, to attend their academy. Sanctuary is the most advanced city in the world, in magic, in technology, in learning. They are also what many Cialin call a 'horrifying den of sickness and evil'. Some of the people I associated with in Sanctuary were among that sort, in the opinions of the nobility here. I was on thin ice when I returned for this reason. But the King cares not for that sort of thing, and would not let it see me passed over - I remind him of my mother, you see, whose memory he has always claimed to cherish.

"In the last year of my part-time residence there, the Bow of the Nomad was found and brought to Sanctuary. No one could bond with it. I was foolish, and took a foolish challenge, to touch the Bow and offer to bond it. The Nomad decided they liked me, and mostly without intending to be so, I was bound. 

"Artefact users cannot be King. It is a law from the second king of Cialin after magic resurfaced, after he wrested the country from the hands of a tyrannical wielder. I was fine with this - I have no desire to be king. I would go mad within a decade. Gael will be far better than I could ever be. I would have removed myself from succession without fuss.

"Lord Tain, however, took it as the perfect opportunity to have me disowned, ensuring I could never challenge his grandsons. He made sure to inform the king in the perfect way to enrage him as much as possible. 

"He stripped me of my rank, my family name, and my personal name as well - as only royalty may bear the -el. And he banished me from the capital, sent me to take the furthest command. Were it not for my skill at warfare he would have exiled me from Cialin in totality. For disobeying him, for this was how Tain convinced him to see it.

"He does not allow his authority to be challenged." 

Well, at least Zephyrinus is not worried that Jaim would try to make a case for him to join the fight on their side. Also, this sounds like a textbook case of monarchies not working.

"I see. ...How to best avoid making him feel challenged?"

He snorts, "Avoid him," he says. He shakes his head, "He's not an idiot, but he is manipulatable in some ways. If you have to deal with him, you don't want him to know the full extent of your abilities. He'll know you can change shapes and may control ice - and possibly that you can gain swift understanding in laguages, if that happens. I don't have enough control over the border forces to stop that from getting back to him, but he won't know anything you don't reveal to the military at large. He will attempt to demand you fight for him, or teach his soldiers, or simply teach him. Gael can sometimes persuade him down. If he does and you are willing to agree to whatever more reasonble thing he settles on, he will leave you be. If you are not willing, or Gael fails to argue him down enough, and you refuse, he may demand you leave Cialin. He would not escalate to violence, I don't think. He would not care so much about defiance from an outsider not meant to be under his command, as he did about his own son disobeying him, so long as you offer no blatant disrespect.

"My brothers will ignore any of his unhelpful orders as much as they safely can, given my recommendations, but cannot disobey him too openly."

Nod. Pause. "Thank you for all this information."

He nods, shrugs, "You should know what you've walked into," he says. 

He continues on towards the mess hall. 

The food currently set out is rice, carrots, cabbage, and fish from the nearby river. Jaim takes some of each before turning to Zephyrinus.

"Anything look familiar? Or at least edible?" 

"Yeah, they do. I don't recognize the fish, but... I have been meaning to ask. Does natural non-treated water is safe around here? It doesn't melt you."

"...No, it doesn't dissolve you. All your water is dangerous like the pools you mentioned?" He isn't getting too descriptive of the other properties of those pools due to the listening ears. "Most of our water is air drawn. It's safer that way - no chance of poison, and it doesn't take much mana. It's pure." 

"All water, even water from the air if you're not using the right power can be dangerous. I can't even beging to especulate how much this must impact your world on top of your mortality problem."

"Well, unless its a property of your people rather than the water, ours should be safe." 

There's a cold water barrel, and also hot water in a rune-etched barrel. Jaim depresses the spout handle on the hot water barrel and fills his cup. He pulls a tin from a pouch and measures out a pinch of leaves, which he puts in his infuser and drops in the water. 

"Tea?" He offers. 

"Yes." He accepts. But first he tests the waters. With a drop on his little finger. It's safe.

He nods, sets another pinch of tea leaves inside one of the infusers next to the hot water barrel, and fills a cup for him. 

They find Ilek, and eat their meals. A soldier comes to find them as they are finishing, informing them that a room has been prepared for Zephyrinus. 

"I would still like more explanations if that isn't a problem."

"Accepting won't indebt you to the Commander - right now you're here as part of my party, not as an individual guest of the base." He glances up at the soldier who nods, understanding the message that this is the case. 

"I won't ask anything from you other than that you remember what you learn among us, and that you keep in mind the dangers the people of this world live with when you return home." All of the people, not just the Cialin, both from the war and from being single-shaped in general. Nothing, he has gathered, which Zephyrinus had not already intended to do. 

Nod. "Thank you. I will try to repay to the best of my capabilities."

He nods, appreciative. 

The soldier leads them back to the command center, where the VIP quarters can be found on the second floor. Ilek and Jaim follow, as their rooms are in the same area. 

The rooms are simple affairs, containing one queen sized bed, a desk, a small sitting area, and a small bathroom - with running water, given this fort is well established.

Once they arrive the soldier leaves them be. Ilek retreats into his room.

"If there's anything else you'd like to know, you're welcome to come in," Jaim tells him, hovering outside his own door. 

"Sure. I am still largely clueless about your world. And I should learn a non-zero amount of your language."

"A good point," he says of the latter statement. 

His room has the same layout as the one Zephyrinus was offered, and the same colour scheme. They're very inn-like, really. The main difference is in the small number of his belongings set out on the desk. 

He waves Zephyrinus over to the small sitting area containing a loveseat and a single chair, and continues to the desk to make another cup of tea using his kettle - a mana heated one he brought from Sanctuary. 

He drinks a lot of tea. His job is stressful, alright?

"I'm afraid I haven't often had to teach a language. The people of Sanctuary learn Cial as children, and Sanctuary itself has translation like the kind I'm using tied up in its wards. I could try speaking each sentance twice, with and without my runestone active?" 

He takes the loveseat (on the assumption that Jaim will take the chair). "That would work. A list of common phrases with their phonetic pronunciations would also be good."

He can do that. He sets the kettle to boil and runs through a list of common phrases, alternating his use of the runestone so Zephyrinus can more easily hear his actual words. Included is a list of names and places he can add to the end of the words 'can you direct me to'. 

"Any specific questions you have about the world in general?" He asks, finally half-collapsing in the chair, his tea set on the table beside it. He rubs gently at a bruise spanning his whole left side and carefully stretches out his shoulders with a quiet noise of relief. 

He looks concerned at the bruise. "Is healing magic common? I don't really know what else to ask."

"Healing...? Oh! Yes, it is. I could get this healed, but the healers are busy with the more serious injuries from the fight earlier, and my pool is too low to waste on a bruise. It'll heal on its own, or I can deal with it once I've recovered some." 

"Yes, okay. But how common is healing for the average person? Pools - my kind - also restore your body to full health if you stay long enough and changing shapes does some patching up. And I am trying to get a sense of how bad the situation is without them."

He smiles, amused and charmed by his focus. He is reminded of Caen, before... everything. 

"Simple healing magic is in the reach of just about anyone who can spin a thread of life magic together. Fixing minor cuts, light bruising, skinned knees - all are simple enough for free magic, which requires no more education than the early meditation most children learn to find their mana pool. 

"More complicated things should be accomplished through actual structured spells, which must be studied. Most villages have at least one healer who learned at least through an apprenticeship, if not at the Academy. Larger towns and cities have healing houses and hospitals, where those adept in life magic work under masters to see to the needs of the people. 

"Though, healing in Cialin hospitals is not free as it is in Sanctuary. Payment goes to upkeep, along with various donations. In Sanctuary the hospitals are funded from the treasury.

"More extreme injuries, such as amputation, punctured lungs, and sicknesses especially, require the attention of masters, who are not exctly common. There are three at the hospital in the capital, and five in Sanctuary. The Cialin military boasts a total of six.

"I know little about this matter within the Empire, unfortuntely. I suspect they have less coverage, if only because of their suppression of formal non-military training among the commoners." 

"Ooh, is there an easy way to check if I could learn your kind of magic." Zephyrinus asks, showing for the first time something like excitement in his voice. "Ah, and earlier you mentioned that your king might want to learn from me, but I don't expect my kind of magic to be teachable in any meaningful way."

He grins, though the following mention of the King dims it. Still, "I'm not sure," he admits, "But there's no reason not to try!" 

As for the other question, "If you told him you couldn't teach him it's likely he would choose to believe this to be a lie," he says. 

"What? And the whole thing about being from another world would be just garnish?"

He shrugs, "He wouldn't make a fuss about it, he simply would think you weren't cooperating. Other world or not, he wouldn't want to believe there was something he wanted which he could not have." The man is childish in that way. 

Zephyrinus also finds this childish, but doesn't comment. "He in theory could acquire shapes and my kind of power, it just conditional of access to my world, as opposed to me teaching him. I guess, there is nothing to be done about him being unable to acquire a shift-dance. Even mine would come with, well, the side effect of giving him a twin."

He huffs a laugh, "A good thing - I wouldn't wish to give Rael more family to control if it were possible." 

"That aside - you were asking about our magic? I can give you the basic lesson on finding your pool, if you'd like." 

"Yes. It's an obvious experiment."

So he gets him started on it. The children's meditation involves paying attention to your breath, focusing until you can feel your pool behind your diaphragm. Many can't do this without some aid - usually an older relative threading some mana into them to touch their pool - something which requires consent, by the way. Just as an Artefact will attack a person they don't wish to bond with, trying to touch another's pool without consent will cause it to attack you automatically. 

He follows these instructions diligently. Does it result in any sign of magic?

It does not. 

"Well, that's too bad. I suppose it might be strange if you could? Given our different worlds and magic." 

"Yeah, It might be something only the natives can do. I am sure someone back home would've noticed if it was possible back there too. Is this inability to use mana detectable? It would give credibility to my story."

"It might be! You don't stand out from the ambient mana, but someone supressing might be able to hide from me, and most people aren't as good at sensing as I am. However if you don't mind I can try more actively searching for you - it would involve using a thread of mana to probe the area you are in." 

"Is that likely to have other effects? Or uses?"

"Anyone who relies on their senses wouldn't notice you if you hid. Some wards may not take note of you.

"As for other effects, it shouldn't. I'll be using uncoloured mana, which does nothing but sense and communicate unless it is fueling a spell. If you have a mana pool I expect I will receive a sharp shock, and then we will know. If you do not, it will have nothing to interact with."  

"As long it's safe for you as well."

He smiles, "So long as I disengage right away the shock is only very mild." 

So he spins out a thin thread of his remaining mana and directs it across the sitting area to examine Zephyrinus. Is there anything to be found?

Nope.

Zephyrinus is watching him closely.

His eyes are almost closed, allowing him to focus on the information he's getting from his thread. He has one hand raised and held out in Zephyrinus' direction, thumb and forefinger positioned as though holding a thin wire, a technically unnecessary gesture, but harmless so long as be doesn't rely on it. 

After a moment, he retracts the thread, allowing it to re-merge with his pool. 

"Nothing," he says, regretful. 

Shrug. "Maybe I can develop it as a power, but I wouldn't bet on it."

He nods, "When do you expect you'll get a new power?" He asks, still a little unsure how his magic works. "Powering a translation stone isn't very taxing, so I don't mind, but you may wish to speak with someone other than me at some point." 

"Oh? Oh. I must have cycled through a couple dozen powers so far. But I was prioritizing teleportation and most of what I got were variants of how to burn things."

"So you've been in pain this whole time? You don't much show it, but I suppose you must be used to it." He shakes his head, banishing any unhelpful thoughts on the topic, "Are fire powers more likely in that form than any of the other categories?" 

"Not the whole time, I was paying attention when you were giving me the language and magic lessons, but I have a second power in this form that gives me super-speed, every so often I give quick go at trying for a new power. Dealing with the pain is a professional skill. And yes, this is the fire-themed shape. It can breathe fire without any additional power and most people have deep-red skin in it. This coloration is unusual, like being very pale."

"It's very striking," he says, eyes catching on the play of the light on his hair. He blinks, looking away. 

"Perhaps it's time I prepared for bed - you must be tired as well, given how strange your day has been." 

"I might try for another round of power searching. But, yes, thank you for all the help."

He nods, "I'm pleased to have helped." 

He stands, holding the door for him to leave, and then closing and locking it behind him. 

Once alone, he sighs at himself, "Don't be an idiot," he mutters, before beginning his preparations for bed.

Zephyrinus goes to his room. He takes off his clothes and without much to do tries for teleportation or communication. After an hour or so of this, He finally manages contact with Felicianus, they can sense when the other is trying to rebind the power. With some painstakingly slow application of timed power rebinding, the two plus Theocritus manage to communicate. Zephyrinus is safe. They are safe. Can't get any better than this. Not for the moment, and he is sure his brothers are using the best guild's resources to get him back. Thinking, Zephyrinus decides that there is no better alternative than to look at the place where he likely made the transition to this world. He didn't raise the possibility with Jaim because, well, the young man is a stranger. But he is hardly spoiled for choice, and he should investigate the place.

He wakes early the next morning, quickly rolling out of bed to go through his morning routine. Exercises, meditation, ablutions, clothing, tea - and then he is ready to face the day. He steps out into the hall, still buckling his bracers, and looks out the window. Finding the sky light enough, he steps over to knock on Zephyrinus' door and invite him to join him for breakfast. 

Zephyrinus opens the door after a few moments. Some things become obvious: He changed to yet another shape at some point during the night, his hair metallic silver in this one. Also, he definitely didn't pack any pajamas for this sudden trip. "Good morning," he says a bit tiredly.

"Good mor-" he starts automatically, before taking in what he's wearing. Or, more to the point, not wearing. He makes a strangled noise, red climbing up his cheeks as he moves his gaze above Zephyrinus' head. 

"...You could have told me to wait while you dressed," he says, once the internal screaming - and the unhelpful impulses - has died down a notch. 

Blink. "Would you rather that I had?"

He would not, actually - no, damn it, get your head out of the gutter! 

"...We may have run into a cultural difference," he says, the words coming out very formally in his embarrassment. "Here it is considered inappropriate to be unclothed outside of private spaces unless swimming." 

He snorts. "Weird. I am in a private space, but I figure that this still is inappropriate. Give me a moment." He closes the door.

He waits, the red slowly retreating from his face while he does. He glances over at Ilek's door - It's closed, which is only to be expected. He's probably still sleeping - Jaim wouldn't expect to see him any time in the next few hours. 

He goes back to buckling his left bracer once he notices that it's still partly undone. 

Zephyrinus is back, with the same loose robes as yesterday. "I managed to make some contact with home last night. Just enough to let them know I am alive."

He's glad for the immediate change of subject. 

"That's good to hear. Any news on getting you back home?"

"Not quite. I am sure they are trying, but our code is limited. I got a power to teleport really short distances, but I don't think it will work. I am in this form because it got the power to fortify magic and I was thinking in using it where I crossed over."

"So you want to go back and take a look around? Alright, I can put together an escort - I should see of I can sense anything odd with our magic. But - breakfast, first?" 

"Yes, of course."

Breakfast! Also, tea. He might admit he had a problem if he wanted to fix it. 

After food is eaten, he calls over one of his elites, telling her to direct those of his elites who are combat worthy to prepare to go back to the site of the battle yesterday. While she leaves to do that, he goes back up to the VIP rooms to check if Ilek is awake. 

He is not. Or, if he is, he doesn't want anyone to know it. 

...Jaim will let him get away with it for now. He's definitely going to have to talk to him when he gets back. Really, he should have done it yesterday. He wasn't being a very good big brother. Losing people under your command is hard, and Ilek is only a little older than Jaim was when it first happened to him. 

He grabs his sword from his room, leaves a note on his door to explain where he went to Ilek if he goes looking for him, and heads back downstairs. 

Finding Zephyrinus at the table where he left him, he leans against it, "The squad should be waiting at the gates, if you're ready." 

"Sure. I hardly have anywhere to be."

So off they go. 

His squad had some of the hardy hills horses saddled for them, to get them to the battefield more quickly. He climbs into saddle, then glances over at Zephyrinus, it suddenly occuring to him that not everyone learns to ride. 

"Do you know how to ride?" 

"No, can't I just fly?" He still has his metallic-looking wings.

"Absolutely," he agrees. A groom comes to take the extra horse away, giving them all a mildly annoyed look. Jaim offers his apologies for the inconvenience. 

Then they're on their way. It takes them about thirty minutes, when they're not riding as hard as they can. 

The battlefield is where they left it. Blood stains the ground, which is covered in pockmarks and burns, puddles and rubble, and other leavings from yesterday. The rocks Zephyrinus came from are where he left them as well.

Zephyrinus is quiet, though this is in part because he flies too far to talk without shouting. He lands on the rocks. "It was here. I was just walking and then it was like I took a step back or something and when I left I was here." He peers. "I am not sure at all if it will work to just go through the other way, but I will try to be conservative first."

He dismounts and walks around the rocks a few times, stretching out a few threads of uncoloured mana to see if he feels anything interesting from them. 

"I'll pay attention as you do. Maybe I'll feel something." 

Zephyrinus steps inside and activates his magic fortification power... and accidentally it crosses with Jaim's mana threads generating a quite loud sensory feedback. Also, there is sure something doorway like over there.

"Aah-!" His world is colours and movement too small for the naked eye to see, life and mind interspersed with elemental brilliance held together by space and time and surrounded by the void of souls. The soul at his back pulses with concern but he cannot hear it over the rushing of his own mana pool, the pulse of the veins of the world pounding beneath his feet, the singing of the wards above holding back the void-

After a seeming eternity, he recoils, his threads either snapping and disappating or retracting back to his pool. Thankfully the sensory overload stops at that point. 

He only notes the doorway afterwards, leaning heavily against a rock and sorting through the things he'd sensed by habit. He needs a moment to recover from that torrent of information. 

"Are you okay?" Zephyrinus coming close to give support.

Belatedly, he notes the headache, and the blood spilling out of his nose. His eyes hurt. He pinches his nose, and closes his eyes against the glare of the light. 

"Ugh," he gets out, and has to take a moment just to breathe.

"...I think I'll live," he manages after that moment. "...That was awful. But... kind of amazing. Shit." 

"Is this a usual reaction to magic?"

"No," he says, huffing a laugh. "I think I must have interacted with your 'fortify magic' power somehow. That was... far, far more than i have ever sensed, and far deeper. Some of those things..." He trails off. 

"Let's just say I know some scholars at the Academy who would give their good arms for a few seconds of that." 

"Ah. I know the type. And I guess we should have test interactions with your magic first. In hindsight, that was obvious."

"We really, really should have," he agrees. 

"There was some kind of door," he finally gets around to mentioning. "I felt it during that... surge, but I think I should be able to sense it without as well. I could direct you to it and you could try activating it with your power?" 

"Please do. It might not activate it, but... if it's the sort of thing that deteriorates it should build it back up."

He nods and, carefully stretching out a new thread, searches for the door. Once he finds it, he circles around to it physically, and then scrapes a line in the dirt with his foot.

"There," he says.

Zephyrinus compares with his recollections of events. "Sounds about right. Does your sensing give you any feedback on how does it activate?"

He frowns, pacing in front of it a few times to get some different angles. 

"It feels... as though it's only sometimes there. When I pass my thread through it many times, it will almost... catch, from one specific angle. I'm not entirely sure I could find the right one with my physical body." 

"Can you tell if it's deteriorating or if it's fragile?"

"It's not deteriorating," he says, focusing, "...I don't really know how to describe it. It's very strange, and frankly Space magic is rarely straightforward in any way..." 

"Okay, any guess if it's your kind of magic or mine? Should I try to fortify it?"

He nods, "I doubt it would hurt to try. And if that doesn't work, I can try feeding it Space mana." 

"Okay. We should take turns then. I mean, I fortify it first, since the power is specific for that, you check the results, feeds some space mana to it. All very carefully."

"A good plan," he agrees. "I'm not sure what fortifying a thread of Space would do exactly, but my thoughts on worst case scenarios are not pleasant." 

Nod. "An experiment worth doing, but somewhere away from here."

"Agreed." 

He steps away from the doorway, withdrawing his thread, and moves to stand a few meters behind Zephyrinus.

"Alright, go ahead." 

He waves his hands around the area where the area of the doorway. They glow with a silver-white sometimes pale-gold light. "This is not great for feedback, so I am not sure if I am imagining feedback or not."

There is no visual changes that they can see.

He squints at it before, making sure his power is inactive again, he pokes at the portal again with a thread. 

"It seems more fortified, by a small amount," he agrees. "Should I try, now?" 

"Go ahead, but be careful." He steps aside, but is close enough to grab Jaim in case of danger.

He steps forward and, very carefully, spins and extends a thread from his small pool of Space mana. Touching it to the portal, he begins feeding a careful trickle of mana into it. 

The thread touches the doorway, with no visible effect. Though, something happens to it.

It goes through. 

Jaim has approximately a second to enjoy his second bout of weird feedback of the day, as his thread interacts with something that feels both like and unlike the void he'd sensed outside the planet wards (he's going to have to write a long letter to his old Mana Physics teacher later), before this thread snaps as well. 

"...Apparently today is the day for weird magic interactions giving me headaches," he says a moment later, fingers massaging his temples in an attempt to soothe the pain. 

"Do you need a break?"

"Mm. Just, give me a moment to recover and I can keep going." 

He focuses on his breath, calling up a thread of life mana to soothe his head. 

"My thread went right through the doorway. There was something - a place? - on the other side. It felt like... I'm not sure how to describe it. I doubt anyone could live there, however." 

Frown. "Do you think it's dangerous to interact with? I was thinking of throwing rocks or something."

"...Carefully," he suggests, "But I see no reason why that should be dangerous."

"Let's give you a few more minutes to recover, first."

He snorts, "Alright," he agrees, glancing over at where his lieutenant is eyeing him with concern. He waves in acknowledgement and pulls out a small enchanted canteen to take a drink, leaning back against the rocks. He keeps the life thread running, soothing frayed nerves and reducing any strain from the two bouts of overload. Running a hand over his upper lip reveals that there's still some drying blood there, so he unwinds the wrappings on his right arm part way to wipe it off.

"Do your brothers know where the other side of this portal is?" He asks once his face is clean. 

"No, not enough time to tell them. Our method of communication is by using our ability to rebind our magic. We made a code on how long we hold onto the painful state between powers. Each string of painful pulses is a letter. Hard to describe my location that way."

He clears his throat, looking away at the explanation of their method of communication. The exceptional pain tolerance had already been established, no need to pay any more attention to it, damn it. 

 "I think I'm ready to keep going," he says, carefully pulling back his life thread. The headache is mostly soothed. He kneels down to pick up a rock, "Do you have any ideas of how best to throw them at the correct angle?" 

"Absolutely no idea. I was thinking of just trying several angles while you looked to see if there is any reaction."

"Sounds good," he agrees. He readies an uncoloured thread, making sure not to slip it inside the door. 

And Zephyrinus starts throwing pebbles in the doorway's general direction. There is non-zero reaction to them, but it's very mute.

"I'm not getting much of a reaction," he says. "There's something, but-" he shakes his head. "Maybe it'll need more reinforcement before anything can go through?" 

"Okay, let me try again." He does some more fortification.

The sound of someone approaching at a fast pace interrupts his attempt. A runner rounds a nearby hill, calling out when he sees them. 

"General Jaim! General, the fort is under attack!" 

Jaim snaps up from where he's crouched, watching Zephyrinus work on the portal. He begins running for the horses immediately. 

"We're going to have to cut this short," he calls back to Zephyrinus, "It seems the enemy has attacked the fort." 

As he mounts, he orders the messenger to give him a situation report. 

The attackers are a large force of Imperial mages who approached on foot under cover of invisibility illusions. The wards have been breached. They were working on breaking the walls down when he left roughly 40 minutes ago.

Zephyrinus takes a moment to change into his Hibera form and then follows. He covers himself in an ice armor.

"Back to the fort!" He orders his elites, "Push the horses as much as we safely can." 

He proceeds to follow his own orders, setting a fast pace back to Fort Kiat. 

The fort is burning when they get there, the walls long breached and fighting visible in the space between the buildings. Jaim directs his people to stay in pairs and watch each others' backs, and then rushes towards the Command Center. 

A few people try to get in his way. He gets them out of his way as quickly as possible with blasts of water, leaving them drenched but alive. The Nomad takes over after the third one, drawing lightly on his pool and enhancing it to do so. 

Okay, fort on fire. How about if you suddenly do not get to be on fire? The presence of water makes it convenient for Zephyrinus to create a giant ice prison where people can hang out until they are calmer (and willing to surrender). He is ruthlessly efficient, though not letal.

Anyone on the Cialin side thus released from combat immediately goes to the aid of the injured near them. They get a makeshift infirmary set up fairly quickly, the original building having been 1) set on fire and 2) covered in ice. 

Jaim, meanwhile, crashes through the door of the command center, running headfirst into the Commander in the middle of holding off a quartet of enemy mages, defending the stairs. The bottleneck of the hallway gives her a bit of advantage, as only two at a time can get close enough to attack. The other two are hanging back and throwing attacks in when they get the opportunity. Upon Jaim's entrance, they turn back, eager to face an opponent they can actually fight. 

Still in a hurry, he tries the same thing he was using in the soldiers outside, but these two are a higher calibre of mage - one of them counters by turning it to ice with a quick word, sending it back his way. He dodges, glancing anxiously at the stairs when he does so. He can just barely sense Ilek still up there, fighting off at least three others, with his baseline unextended senses. He's still not at 100% - his overuse of mana the day before, trying to get to Ilek during the ambush, and then the experiments earlier have taken their toll. He turns his full attention on the fight he's in, hoping to end it as quickly as possible. 

Zephyrinus is following him close, but in a sense, he is trying to keep track of multiple things at once. The fact that Jaim had to dodge an ice anything is personally offended, so he feels very strongly how ice should behave in that corridor: in their favor, maybe freezing balls of ice that prevent the attacker's mouth to close down without making them suffocate. Then they can be dragged away.

He glances back at Zephyrinus, briefly, grateful when the mages choke, and are dragged away.

The Commander falls heavily against the stairwell entry when her fight is interrupted, breath coming hard and hands going to a wound in her side. He looks back to her when she calls out.

"General, Prince Ilek- there were too many, I could not stop them all-" 

Jaim nods, rushing past her up the stairs, "I can sense them, Commander. See to your wounds, we can deal with this." She's too injured to get up the stairs, anyway. 

"Excuse me." Zephyrinus says, grabbing Jaim by the shoulders. And then he creates an ice ramp to slide up much faster.

He stiffens a little in surprise, but is more than happy to go along with the increase in speed. 

The second floor looks like a disaster area. It is no longer actively burning - only smouldering lightly - but the walls between the hall and the rooms have been destroyed in several places, the floor is similtaneously charred and slick with water, and blood splatters can be seen here and there.

Ilek is facing four Imperial mages, ducking in and out of the cover of the remaining walls, taking potshots at them when he has a chance. All of the mages have Artefacts - including at least one Greater one, an ornate Blade etched with lightning and clouds. When they reach the top of the staircase, the mage wielding that one turns quickly, tossing a storm of fire their way - without an incantation. 

Without any easily accessible earth to block it with (or the speed to do that in any case), Jaim quickly throws up a thick wall of water, which will hopefully block most of it on its own, and more if Zephyrinus freezes it. 

His mana pool is getting very low again. 

Oh, the wall is definitely frozen. And throw back. Though that's mostly a cover, so he can take they both to the ceiling. His people, he knows, need to create the habit of looking up and that's in a society where nearly everyone can fly.

The mage nearly falls over getting out of the way. Jaim helps him along with a carefully sourceless blast of wind, sending him sprawling to the soaked floor in another room. Then, he peers around from their new vantage point, trying to find Ilek with his eyes, before paying attention to his senses - that way, the room to the right.  

He taps Zephyrinus' shoulder, pointing in his brother's direction. 

There they go, with a snowstorm and a lot of ice pellets being thrown around as a distraction.

Two of the mages fall down under the torrent if ice, the pellets striking some vulnerable spot on their bodies. A third covers their head, ducking down behind some furniture for shelter. The mage with the Blade attempts to clear the indoor snowstorm by heating the air, so he can find where the interference is coming from.

Ilek is sat behind some furniture of his own, frantically trying to stem a heavily bleeding injury in his thigh.

"Shit," Jaim bites out, "He's not good at Life magic- can you set me down-"

"Yes. I will take care of them."

Blade mage, understand this: If Zephyrinus wants a room to be cold, that room will be cold. If you're going to use your toys for pointless exercises, maybe Zephyrinus should take your toys. Some strategically placed ice should do the trick.

Blade mage is alarmed and annoyed! He attempts to escape the ice, forming a cloak of lightning around himself - a futile effort, but one almost has to admire his tenacity. 

Duck-and-cover mage, meanwhile, is attempting to escape out a hole in the wall of the building. 

Jaim hurries to Ilek's side once he hits the ground, falling to his knees beside him and reaching for the wound. 

Ilek scampers back, alarmed, "What-" then he recognises his brother, "Jaim!" 

Agitated by the movement, the wound bleeds worse. Ilek scrunches up his face in pain, a panicky light in his eyes. 

"Easy, little brother, I've got you. Zephyrinus is dealing with the attackers. You're going to be fine." 

He begins applying life threads to the wound, falling into a pattern of chanting incantations while he works. 

Zephyrinus keeps dealing with the attackers, separating them from their possessions. Ice is also great for the psychological factor. Nothing zaps out the will of fighting like having ice shards under your cloths, scratching you as you struggle.

The mages will be uncomfortable and scared, and not going anywhere. 

Eventually, Jaim pulls back from Ilek's injury, leaving a raw, red patch of skin - internally healed and superficially closed, but not safe to strain too much. He doesn't specialise in Life magic anymore. 

"...They're all secure?" He calls out to Zephyrinus after a moment spent catching his breath. He is beyond exhausted. 

"As much as I could, which is very. I am mostly, err, harmlessly tormenting them so they don't get any ideas."

He smiles, a little grimly, but mostly amused, "Likely a good idea," he agrees. 

"Stay down, that's not much better than a patch job," he tells Ilek as he stands, slowly, carefully, taking discrete support from the overturned couch beside him. 

"I should - find the Commander, help set up the clean up-" He takes a step, and falters, almost falling, "...Or maybe I should sit down." 

"Yes. This was a really ill-timed attack." Sigh. "Do you want me to check on the Commander? You really don't look up to defend yourselves."

He nods, and huffs a laugh, "No, we really aren't," he agrees. He focuses inwards for a moment, taking some strength from the Nomad's comforting presence, and then assesses his pool. Damn. 

"I think I'm using my life," he says distantly.

"...I should stop powering this translation," he realises. He pulls the runestone out, holding it out to Zephyrinus, "Give it to the Commander, or whoever is coordinating, so she can understand and translate for you," he says. 

"And at least I remember the words for 'where are the enemies?'. Be careful the both of you." He takes the runestone and pats Jaim on the shoulder.

He dashes away, creating more ice covers on the way out, nothing too difficult to navigate, but easy to hide in.

"There is that," he agrees, before releasing the runestone. He leans into the touch a bit, but rights himself quick enough.

He watches him leave, then slides down the side of the couch again. 

Ilek eyes him judgingly. 

"...Keep watch, I'm going to try to meditate." He says, avoiding that topic entirely. 

Commander Coen is still at the bottom of the stairs, alternating working slowly and carefully on keeping her injury stable and glancing up the stairs with anxiety. If Prince Ilek is killed on her watch - or General Jaim, even - well, her future would not look promising. 

She is relieved when Zephyrinus comes back down the stairs. 

"The attackers are neutralised?" She asks, before gaining a chagrined look as she remembers that he doesn't speak Cial. 

He quickly hands her the runestone and lets her ask that question again. 

She takes it, activating it with a bit of illusion. "The attackers are dealt with?" She asks, rephrasing a little, "-Where is the General? Is Prince Ilek well?" 

"We dealt with the attackers, but the two are upstairs and seriously hurt."

"Damn. Would you check on the status of the battle outside? And find a healer, if there are any available, for all three of us, and hopefully for some of my people in the war room, if they survived. Though, damn, if they can't understand you-" she sighs, waving the translation stone, "I suppose you'll just have to keep playing pass the runestone. Here-" she offers it. 

Alright. Zephyrinus goes outside as instructed. And while looking for the next round of pass the runestone he will deal with other mages in his ruthless manner.

There's a few still fighting near the southeast barracks - who very shortly are not. His earlier bout of freezing has reduced their numbers enough that the Cialin have been able to deal with the rest mostly on their own. 

The field hospital is surrounded by wary guards, less- or uninjured, prepared to deal with any incoming enemies trying to get to the healers. Inside the semi-circle of soldiers men and women wearing pale gold starbursts on the jackets over their armour tend to the wounded, aided by some of the soldiers better trained in life magic. 

A young man with an authoritative voice is doing his best to organise this chaos. When someone sees Zephyrinus overhead, they point him out to the man, and he waves up at him, trying to call him down. 

He goes in that direction and gives the runestone. Once it's clearly active he reports the situation with Ilek and Jaim.

He nods seriously, calling over a healer who has been tending the more stable patients. 

"The General should be able to recover enough to move on his own safely, assuming he has had the space to meditate while you were gone," he says. "The Prince will need fully qualified care, however - can you carry Kitain?" The healer he'd called over looks unenthusiastic about this idea, but resigned. 

"Was there anyone else injured in command?" The organiser continues, "We can send a party to recover them." 

"Besides the commander herself, I think there are some people in the war room."

He nods, "I'll send a party-" he turns to one of the soldiers near him, informing him of this plan, and the other man goes off to put one together.

"Here, the runestone," he says as he turns back, handing it to him. 

And that was a round of pass the runestone. He will do some more tidy up and wait to go back.

A party quickly forms, including eight soldiers, two carrying Artefacts, and a quartet of mages, including Kitain, who one of the soldiers picks up - one of his legs is splinted. They head out of the perimeter of guards, wary for any remaining enemies, and make their way to the command center. 

Once there they split up, two of the healers taking the same four guards to the war room, while the others take the back entrance, finding Commander Coen in the hall. One of the healers in this party kneels down to take over healing her wound. She nods appreciatively at Zephyrinus, and then gestures up the stairs. 

They head up, finding Jaim meditating, while Ilek watches their surroundings, carefully not paying attention to his partially healed wound. The healer goes to Ilek's side immediately. The soldiers go to secure the floor. 

Jaim opens his eyes at their approach, slowly coming back to himself. He holds out a hand for the runestone when he sees Zephyrinus - he's recovered enough mana to power it for a little bit. 

"Has the fighting died down?" He asks. 

"It has, it was already nearly over when I got there. How are you? Are you okay?"

"Good," he breathes, relieved. 

"I'm... tired. I used up all of my mana, and probably a good six months of my lifespan on top, healing Ilek." He murmurs, careful not to let his brother hear. "No more injured than I was this morning, however," he says, "And that meditation has filled my reserves enough to power this rune for a while longer." 

"And you? Are you uninjured?" He asks in return. He had spent much of the battle fighting from a distance, as far as Jaim could see, but perhaps something could have gotten through. 

"Your lifespan?"

He blinks, a little taken aback. 

"Yes, I can convert my own lifespan into mana," he says. "It's not a trick everyone knows - most die if they get to that point - but it's a good last resort." He doesn't really see the problem with it, so long as he's not too free with the ability. So what if he lives 300 years instead of 350? It's still far more than most. 

Though, considering that Zephyrinus comes from a place where most people are immortal... 

"...I would rather live a shorter life than lose my brothers," he tries to explain. 

"Which I understand." He says sincerely. "It's still jarring when you have a limited amount of it."

He huffs, "I can understand that, but - 300 or 350, I'll still live too long. It will be different, if your world allows us access to those pools. But then, perhaps being able to change forms as you do would reset my lifeforce, as well. Wouldn't that be a trick." 

"A very interesting one. Even if it doesn't you could spend all the lifeforce for a form before sacrificing it."

He hums, "Yes, a great improvement either way." 

"In the meantime, I'm not quite at that point. I lost roughly 30 years once, fighting a powerful enemy when I was nineteen. I should have somewhere in the realm of 315 years left.

"I take it you are, in fact, uninjured, then?" He adds, coming back to his earlier question. He gives the other a quick once over. 

"That's far more than someone in a single shape can survive where I am from. And I am."

He still wearing his ice-armor, during the fight it got some cracks and there is even something that might be a bit of stone lodged on the armor's stomach, but it's mostly pristine now.

Good. 

"Yes," he says, "I must not have mentioned it - some Artefacts gift their wielders with an amount of life on bonding. Most often between 200 and 300 years."  

"Are they cumulative? And could an artifact bond to someone and then unbond for the solo purpose of giving them a boost of life?"

He shakes his head, "No, the life is tied to the Artefact - if you unbond an Artefact you are left with only the amount you had when you were bound, and rebonding does not reset that amount. You use up that which the Artefact offers first of all - including when drawing on it for mana. If I were to unbond the Nomad," not that he ever would, "I would have roughly thirty-five years left, given my original total was roughly eighty-five." 

Nod.

Oh no he's sad. 

"Hey," Jaim leans forward from his place on the floor, reaching out to brush his fingers against Zephyrinus' hand. "You're going to fix it, yes? Don't worry. You'll get back home, and then you can come back and help us change things here. We can test whether my lifespan resets, then. Perhaps we'll discover a way to give your people mana, as well." 

This surprises Zephyrinus a little. But pleasantly so. "That would be great. But you should laid down a bit."

Oh good. 

He laughs a little, "You may be right, but where?" He asks, gesturing around them at the destroyed upper level of the CC - the wrecked furniture, the charred, soaked, ice-cold floors, splintered wood, and rubble littered everywhere. His pants are already soaked and streaked with soot, he has no desire to lie down in this. 

Three of the four soldiers who had arrived with Zephyrinus and the healer have since transported the enemy mages Zephyrinus had captured down the stairs - still encased in ice, in the cases of the two who had still been awake. The healer is focused on Ilek, and the last guard - one of Jaim's elites - will not be leaving their side for anything.

"Unless you wish to carry me to wherever they have set up the field hospital, I may simply have to wait. Conversation is a good way to pass the time, until then."

"Well, the important part is for you not to make unnecessary effort."

He hums, still smiling, "This barely takes anything," he counters, "And conversation will keep me awake. I really do not wish to fall asleep here - I'll catch some sickness. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave you with no one to talk to," he says, somewhat forgetting that he could just take the runestone and talk to someone else. He may be getting a bit loopy at this point. 

"I can deal with not understanding people for a bit, but I will keep you company then."

The healer straightens, "We can move him safely now, sir," he tells Jaim. He's a little shaky - there has been a lot of injured today. He taps the guard, "You'll have to lift him, Corporal, I'm very nearly drained." 

The corporal carefully spins a thread and slides it under Ilek's torso, incanting a spell which causes it to flatten out evenly under his body. He lifts off the ground. 

("I can walk, you realise," Ilek grumbles. He is ignored.)

"General?" The healer asks him.

"Go ahead," Jaim says, sobering somewhat, "I sincerely doubt I will be able to make it farther than down the stairs - my physical reserves are quite drained. Just send up someone to float me out to the field hospital." 

They proceed down the stairs. 

"This is going to be a nightmare to clean up," Jaim sighs. "We're going to have to call for reinforcements from the capital, and the nearby forts. Well, I say we - it's likely I would be wise to take Ilek to Fort Helen as soon as he is well enough to travel."

"I can try carrying you both down stairs, but I wouldn't recommend given your condition. Am I going to need to evacuate the fort?"

He nods; this is reasonable.

As for the question, "Evactuate it in general? No, this is a very good location for a fort, they will be rebuilding it, and in the meantime what is left of the walls makes better shelter than anywhere else. You, yourself? If you choose. I expect Ilek and I will either stay through the reconstruction or leave for my fort in the next two days. You remain welcome to come with us." 

"I am not sure. It might not be a good idea to stray too far from where I came from, but it might be worthy to go search for people that can give me a better insight on how to get back."

"Well, most of the greatest magic experts of our world can be found in one place. You could examine the portal more extensively over the next few days, and then visit Sanctuary. If anyone should follow you through, I can have the Commander send them on to you." 

Nod. "How far is the Academy from here?"

"The actual location is a secret - the Academy is within Sanctuary, and the only way to get there is through the portal in the Guardian's city, beneath Tianitok, Cialin's capitol. The capitol is a week and a half away by horseback, using the roads, in good weather." 

"Do you think the path is safe enough to travel if I ever need to fly back here in a hurry?"

"It should be," he says, "So long as you stay over the road. There are monsters in places that don't get patrols - animals and other creatures with magic." 

"Do you think I could fight one alone?"

"It depends greatly on the creature in question. There are a great variety, we have had only a few centuries of near constant warfare to attempt to document them, and not many have been enthusiastic to try. There are some partial bestiaries in Sanctuary, and many people know the weaknesses and territory of the local ones, but no comprehensive study has ever been completed, even just of the ones native to Cialin.

"I suspect any who came within a days travel by foot of the road would be simple enough for you to deal with, however, in that form, and with that power." 

"Huh... we have monsters, but they don't sound nothing like your variety."

"Mm, 's one of the reasons we haven't explored the oceans very extensively," he murmurs, "There 're some truly big ones out there." 

His words are slurring a bit. He's very tired. 

"Hey, stay with me just a little bit more?"

He blinks, hard, "Mm, right," he rubs at his face, "No falling asleep," he sighs. He leans forward from his place against the wrecked couch, wrapping an arm around his bent knee to keep him there. Hopefully being more upright will help him stay awake. 

"...Sanctuary's different, from the rest of the world. Better." He says, searching for another topic to keep himself awake. 

"Better how?"

"...Nicer," he says, "No one's ever hungry. Ev'ryone gets money from the treasury ev'ry day. No one dies because they can't pay for healing. Anyone can learn at the Academy. No one cares who you love." He hums, "Most ev'ry way, they're better than ev'rywhere else." 

"Sounds lovely. Is the runestone draining you? I could... try to teach you a song without it?"

"Perhaps a little," he admits reluctantly. He fiddles with it, turning it between his fingers. "Here, should take it away from me," he adds, holding it out, "I have - bad impulse control, I hear." He laughs a little, remembering when that was true. 

"...I'd love a song," he adds before it's taken away. 

"Alright." He gives an encouraging smile and takes the runestone. He guides him through some a song. Hard to tell the theme, though it's relatively upbeat and while there is a lot of repetition, there is a change in pattern that means he needs to keep enganged.

He pays attention, humming along to figure out the tune, and carefully forming the words. If he remembers it, he should teach Ilek, or ask Zephyrinus to if he does not. 

After a while of this, someone comes back up the stairs. Another of his elites. Jaim pauses in his singing when he notices her, nodding when she offers to float him out to the field hospital. 

"Fort clear," he tells Zephyrinus, two of the words he'd taught the other the night before.

He nods and follows.

The fort is still a mess, but the bodies and captives have been cleared from the grounds, at least. The building holding the cells is still standing, explaining where the latter have gone. The former are laid out in a training field on the other side of a row of slightly charred trees from the field hospital. 

Tents have been set up in and around that field, large ones for the healers overseeing injured soldiers, smaller ones for the lightly wounded or uninjured to share. The soldier carrying Jaim takes him to one of the latter, a bit larger than most of the others. 

Ilek is sleeping inside. Jaim slumps upon seeing him, some tension he didn't even notice releasing its grip. The soldier sets him, seated, on one of the other cots. 

She then turns to Zephyrinus, gesturing at the third bed in the tent. Each has a curtain partition, currently tied up against the tent wall, which they can let down for privacy from the rest of the tent. The space in between them contains some log stools and a small table.

Jaim chuckles, seeing that, "Roughing it, are we?" He asks. 

The soldier smiles, tired, "Yes, sir." 

He hums, fighting slowly with the buckle on his left bracer, "I wonder if my teapot survived." 

"I can get you some tea, sir." 

"No, don't bother. I'll be asleep soon enough." 

He watches this carefully, only recognizing a few words. He sits on the third bed and takes the opportunity to grab for a new power. This form still remains not great for teleportation or communication, but maybe he will be lucky.

Thr soldier leaves. Jaim finally gets the bracer off, beginning on the unwrapping of the length of cloth covering his lower arm. He glances up at Zephyrinus and smiles, then glances down at the area around him. 

He holds up the bracer, "Bracer?" He offers. He's still tired, but he wants out of the outer layer of his clothes, and he might as well give the man more vocabulary. 

"Bracer." Zephyrinus repeats taking the object. Then he says a word, which is presumably the word for bracer in his language.

Jaim repeats it back, then pulls the wrap the rest of the way off - his arm is noticeably paler than his face. 

"Arm wrap," he says, and lifts his leg, tapping the one around his calves, "Leg wrap." He holds out an arm, "Arm." 

Hopefully that gets across properly. This isn't really the most traditional way of language teaching. 

He begins pulling off his boots, while his leg is up to remind him. 

Zephyrinus repeats. Pronouncing things carefully.

And so continues the clothes and body based vocabulary lesson. At some point he starts making simple sentances, dropping things on the cot and giving him items and taking them and so on. 'I drop', 'I give', 'you give', 'I take', 'I move', and so on. As well as getting across what tenses he can - 'I am taking the bracer', 'I will drop the boot', 'I gave you the arm wrap'.

The amount of language one can learn using the things readily available in a tent post-invasion is limited, though, especially when the one doing the teaching is a little slow due to exhaustion. Eventually he gets down to his pants and a thin shirt, and is just about ready to drop off.

"I'm going to sleep," he says, concluding the lesson. "Good night, Zephyrinus," he adds. 

"Sleep well," he says.

After a minute, he decides to ask if there is any way he can help around.

Well, given his impressive Ice work during the battle, does he think he could patch some of the holes in the outer walls temporarily? 

Perfect! He gets to it then.

Well, that's a relief. It would take a great deal of mana to patch those.

There are some smaller holes, on the left side of the gate, partially patched by some soldiers at loose ends. They haven't even touched the big one to the right of it, though, just set up some temporary barricades inside the fort to block the twenty meter hole. There's no rubble around that one - it looks like something vaporised the entire section of the wall, the edges appearing burnt black. 

Alright, he goes a first round of patching things up with ice, but starts changing forms to adapt for each job. With carefully controlled fire he can make the stone partially melt on the smaller holes. Some more magic to enforce other things temporarily.

The twenty-meter hole is much trickier, unless there is a suitable quantity of rock around which he can reposition (with ice to move it), he might do something better than what they are doing, but if that's not viable he may just create a wall of ice that's a bit more magically durable and then enforce it to last longer.

His actions gain him some tired cheers from the people who were patching the walls and guarding the barricades. 

This is a rocky, hilly area, but all the loose stone that may have been around before the fort was built has been smoothed down to the ground to make the approach to the walls less hospitable to enemies. He may just have to go with the ice. 

Yup, at that point he would want to talk to people about how they want to rebuild the fort, and they might need to make plans first. For now, an ice blue-gray wall works.

The barricades made redundant for now, the people manning them either move up to the walls or go off to take up some other duty. 

The healers tents are still a hive of activity, and so is the makeshift command center set up in a pavillion on the edge of the camp. With the commander unconscious, healing from her wound, the young man who had been directing earlier is still in charge. Some efforts are being made to salvage anything from the buildings, and recover any bodies still within. Scouts are being sent out to check over the surrounding land, to look for any remaining enemies and hunt for food.

All of these would likely appreciate whatever help he can offer. 

He is in fact offering help! He can move things around. Including bodies, assuming that isn't forbidden against local custom. He can help with either temperature extreme to help with food. He can probably help with hunting, though he doesn't know local fauna and will be mostly good at one-hit kill game instead of tracking it down.

They appreciate the help in moving bodies - they mostly move them carefully using magic, so his methods are fine. Once they are set in the field someone will remove a necklace from around the necks of many of the deceased - strings of beads, plain and painted wood and multi-coloured stones and gems alike, presumably of some cultural or religious significance. The bodies with these are all placed together, while the others - a lesser number - are placed seperately. 

Food prep is mostly taken care of - the fort's cooks have this down to an art, and most of them survived the attack, having hidden in a safe room near the kitchens. 

He can be paired with a hunter to do the tracking, assuming he can be somewhat quiet. She can track them down a herd of pale green furred deer with antlers like tangled branches, and together they can take back more than she could alone. 

Sure, he can bring them venison. She asks how many, and then that many were impaled in ice spears. Pretty quick and painless.

They'll eat better than they thought they would with the food stores mostly destroyed, then. 

Once all the dead are moved and dinner is consumed, things settle down throughout most of the camp, only the healers tents and the command pavillion still somewhat active. Despite the fact that they won in the end - or, he did, at least - the mood in the camp is quite solemn. At some point, someone starts singing - something mournful, about sleep and fires burning, and the night sky. 

Zephyrinus does not join the singing, probably would be disrespectful, once there is no more stuff to do he feels restless. And spends the time trying for a new power, mostly to occupy himself.

Whenever he gets back to the tent, he'll find Ilek awake, sat next to Jaim on his brother's bed. He's singing along quietly, but pauses when Zephyrinus comes in. He taps his lips and holds out his hand - a perhaps slightly confusing request for the runestone. He'd already searched his brother's pouches and not found it there.

Zephyrinus produces the runestone quietly, and checks over how Jaim is doing.

Sleeping the sleep of the dead, to all appearances. Also, curled in a crescent around Ilek, with his face stuffed into the teen's side, his hands supporting his head. What little can be seen of his expression is smooth and relaxed in sleep - he actually looks as young as he's supposed to, like this. Just barely out of his teens. 

Ilek notes the attention on his brother, slipping a hand in his hair, a bit possessive, a bit wary - perhaps unnecessary, but still. He takes the runestone, but remains silent for a moment, trying to put together a polite sentence. 

He quickly gives up, however, "We'd probably be dead without you, you know," he says, bluntly, "Or maybe not, but Jaim would've done something even more stupid than what he did anyway." 

Yes, he knows his brother had used lifeforce to heal him. He's not an idiot. He was too drained to have gotten the mana anywhere else. 

Zephyrinus archs an eyebrow over the possessiveness, but doesn't openly comment. "I am glad to help."

Ilek emphatically does not like letting a stranger see Jaim when his guard is this far down. But the captain currently in charge of the fort stuck the three guests in the same tent, so there's no helping that. 

He nods, "The songs will keep going for a while," he says, "I'm going to be singing too. Not loud, but it might make it hard to sleep. Sorry." 

"No need to apologize. I understand that they are songs of morning?"

"Yes," he says, "They're traditional - some of them are very old, likely from before mana was sealed, though we think they've changed since then. Those are the formal ones for pyres. Most of these are less so. Formulaic ones, some of them. Personal ones, from those who have lost before, and have the talent."

"Okay, don't mind me, not about the singing."

He nods, and turns his attention to listening to the songs beings sung outside. Eventually he starts singing quietly again, his fingers twitching as he suppresses the urge to play along on an imaginary harp. He hopes someone finds his at some point. 

Eventually, he drifts off again. The music continues all through the night, though it grows quieter as time goes on. 

At some point he changes into his Aestes forms and starts searching for that damned teleportation power.

Jaim wakes early the next morning, as the light of dawn seeps through the tent walls to shine on the right side of his face. Feeling like something scraped off the bottom of a shoe, he rolls away from Ilek, burying his face in a pillow with a groan. Ilek shifts, but doesn't wake. 

Someone is still singing, outside. He focuses on the voice blearily - no one he recognises. 

He should get up, he knows. Find out who is dead. Collect the beads of any of his elites who fell. Talk to the commander's second, or whichever captain is in charge, if he isn't able. Eat something, at the very least. 

His stomache twists at the thought. 

Sighing, he slowly pushes himself up off the bed, twisting to sit up with his feet on the floor. 

Zephyrinus happens to be still asleep. Thankfully, with his clothes on.

He's changed forms again, Jaim notes. He stares over at him blankly, mind stalling for a long moment, and then shakes himself. 

The cure for tiredness: tea. He reaches down for his outer layers of clothes and starts pulling them on so he can go get it. 

Dressed, he stands carefully, ensuring he's recovered enough to walk, to make his way out of the tent. 

The temporary camp is subdued. From the tent entrance flap he can see some guards still watching at the outskirts, and movement still ongoing over by the healers' tents, but the activity at the command pavillion has slowed considerably. The busiest spot in the camp right now is probably the kitchen tent, where the servants are up early preparing for when everyone wakes. This last is his destination. 

He returns thirty minutes later with his teapot, recovered overnight, a plate of food, and a stack of paperwork. He settles at the small table to work his way through all three. 

This takes him an hour or so, by which time the camp is waking up and the noise level increasing. 

By that point he has woken up. "Morning?"

He looks over, pausing in stretching out his arms. "Good morning," he replies. He reaches into his pouch for the runestone, and blinks when he finds it missing. Frowning, he looks through the others, and then around the room, finally spotting it on the table next to his bed. He stands to go grab it. 

"Did you have any luck with powers?" He asks, assuming this is why he's in this shape. 

"Sort of. I got a power that lets me swap locations with something else, but it requires line of sight. I am trying to learn its metaphorical shape."

"If you learn its metaphorical shape you can aim for something more like it?" He asks. 

"Yes, easier to figure out what to take hold of, and less time trying to sense what the power does without using it. Which can be non-zero levels of risky without being careful."

"Ah...Yes, I can see how that might be a problem." He hums, "Our magic can be dangerous," he mentions, "Spells are unlikely to go too terribly wrong if you make a mistake - generally speaking they just won't work - but freecasting can be very dangerous, especially if you attempt anything large-scale." 

"Sounds versatile. Sometimes powers are hard to control, but it's rare to be completely wrong about what they do."

He nods, "It is, very much so. The greatest limit is in the time needed to reach proficiency with larger spells, and the size of one's pool. Mine is actually quite small. Without the Nomad I would be a much less effective opponent. As it is, much of my repertoire, and my pool, is made up of Water and Air magic - the Nomad's affinities." He smiles, wry, "The size of my pool is why I worked so hard to learn how to refine my lifespan. Without it I can only preform the simplest of healing spells, now." 

He nods seriously. "Are there no other known ways to expand one's mana pool?"

He shakes his head, "It is a fixed amount - made more limited by the fact that the more you use a colour of mana, the more your pool becomes coloured that way. Any threads you pull from a coloured part of your pool are that colour - they can be unrefined, but at a cost." 

"Is the colorization permanent? Would it go away on its own or if you used more spells of a colour?"