RP:Voth Suleyk Fid Dii Fen

Synopsis: After a month of silence, Gheneroc reappears. Nasada's education is set in motion.

Characters: Nasada, Gheneroc
Location: Ancient Black Dragon's Den

Date: Jan. 26th, 2016

Nasada enters the cavern a little more bravely that the time prior, the gentle clicking of her heels echoing throughout the expanse of stone. While still skinny as ever, she seemed to be in higher spirits, her clothing no longer defined by tattered robes and vagrancy. She looked fairly well put together! In her arms she carried two large tomes, each with bindings so pristine that they could have been new, rather than borrowed from the Tower to the south. "Hello?" she called out, hoping for an answer. It had been some time since she last saw Gheneroc- she almost thought he might have left for good!

Gheneroc rumbled his response. "I sense your doubt." He said slowly. His voice practically boomed through the cave walls. "Many days have passed since I saw you last, Nasada. Fear not." Gheneroc paused as he fixed his gaze upon the necromancer. "Have you made progress?" He asked. A slab of cured meat was in the teeth of one of the dragon whelps. The whelp ran toward Nasada, now tall enough to officially eat a person, the whelp blinked, and considered the mage before dropping the meat at her feet.

Nasada first bowed her head in a respectful manner, soon to fall to her knees to set down those heavy books. "So you are alive. I was worried. It has been some time." She smiled at the welp, a cautious hand extended to pet the young creature atop its head. Normally she would tear into the offered feast, but she had actually gotten a chance to eat breakfast this morning! "Well. Sort of, I think. Not in the way you may wish, however." A disappointed frown fell upon her features, those corpse-like eyes lifted to meet Gheneroc's. "I... I met a witch. She saved me from the cold. I met many new faces, and have seen new sights. I stayed in the town of Larket for a few days- Do not misunderstand me, I appreciate your hospitality, but it can get a little.. cold in here. I just... miss sleeping in a bed." Quickly to move on, she ran her finger along the spine of one of the tomes resting before her. "A couple evenings ago I found a village in the mountains. Xalious Village. I.... have slept there now for three evenings. They have a really great library! I have taken two books for study... something that may help me learn about this land that I find myself in. Something to help me understand its history.I..." she paused, once more to settle her gaze on the dragon. "I believe I shall start training very soon. I met a mage. As young as I. He offered to help me in my learning. He was kind and understanding."

Gheneroc rumbled. "I expected you to take this month in learning your 'zul'. Books of magic in this realm have lost their meaning. They are words with power, but they are unguided. There is no will behind them." Gheneroc loomed over Nasada, carefully considering her. The whelp, unused to human contact, backed away from the hand, and even snapped at Nasada before lingering off. "Do you want to learn magic, or power?"

Nasada slightly tensed. Did she make him mad? A quick jerk, instinct, pulled her hand back quickly as the welp snapped. "I... I don't know. I..." she stops. Something lingering deep below the surface came out in that moment, even if only for a fleeting isntance. "Power." she grunted. Where did that come from? Looking up from between thick strands of black, she asked, "How do I find the correct path?"

Gheneroc watched Nasada's response carefully. With the proximity, the dragon felt something, a hunger that rumbled from deep within Nasada. Something that lay dormant. He would, of course, investigate this later. "Your 'zul', or your voice, shall be what shapes the magic. The words, ultimately, become meaningless. They become a tool to maintain focus until you no longer require them. Do you remember the mantra?"

Nasada tried to recall that first day they reunited. The food offerings. His words. So much had happened in the long month they had been apart that she may have very well forgotten the mantra. After all, the original enunciation was not of a language she knew. Tired lids fell over her eyes and slowly she began to speak. It seemed to come naturally. "Voth... suleyk... fid... dii... fen. With power... Send my will." As they had lowered, soon too did they snap open; A gentle haze of azure blue cascading over the whites of her eyes for a a brief instance. "I... I remember." she spoke, trying to understand how she could recall those words so clearly.

Gheneroc nodded. "Then you are gifted, Nasada. Words of the ancient dragons often refuse to let themselves be forgotten. As the first language ever spoken in this world, they have a very special power on their own." The dragon rumbled on. His speech, as usual, was incredibly slow but extremely deliberate. He did not like to waste a good word. "Now, show me if you have progressed."

Nasada listened intently. While the dragon terrified the living daylights out of the poor girl, she too was very fascinated by him. His words. His wisdom. It seemed to be held in high regard by the learning necromancer. A soft nod rippled the long inky locks hanging from her head, eyes searching the den for something to practice on. Last time Gheneroc had her attempt to move a carcass. What if she tried something with less weight? As her gaze fell to the left, she spied a stone, no bigger than a human fist. It was perhaps the perfect tool for this test. One hand outstretched toward it, she began to utter the mantra that great Dragon had taught her. "Voth...suleyk....fid..dii fen. With power, send my will." She would slowly repeat this phrase multiple times, thus far not having a whole lot of luck.

Gheneroc rumbled thoughtfully. "Words are meaningless. You must combat the will of the stone. It wishes to remain. You must tell it to move." Gheneroc watched patiently. "You must be stronger than the stone." An interesting first choice. Last time, she managed a twitch out of the carcass. Weight had little to do with the magic itself. "The world around you has a will of its own. Yours must be stronger."

Nasada wanted to yell at Gheneroc. She was frustrated. There was no way that she could do what he expected her to do. She wasn't strong enough! Shutting her eyes she tried to focus harder. You can do this. It's just a stone. I'm stronger than stone. She told herself this over and over. She focused harder on those words, trying to understand the Dragon's teachings. Voth suleyk fid dii fen. Although she could not see it, the rock began to vibrate in place.

Gheneroc waited for moments to pass as the rock vibrated in place. He did not want to interrupt Nasada as she was discovering the voice of her will. Admittedly, Gheneroc's magic was among the hardest to learn, but once mastered the possibilities never ended. Of course, the ancient words had their own will, presenting themselves as Nasada's self-doubt. Was she worthy to wield their power? Who was she to call upon them? Gheneroc felt Nasada's frustrations building and building. "Zol. The voice of your will." As he spoke the first word, it was like a block had been lifted. A small push to complete Nasada's first spell, and it should have felt most strange. Gheneroc's own distinct will was pushed through Nasada's mark and into the stone that refused to move.

Nasada started to become lost to the world. She felt as though she were slipping away into a dream; the den, Gheneroc, everything just seemed to disappear. When Gheneroc spoke, a wave seemed to wash over the necromancer, further pushing her deep down into that blackened nothingness. Suddenly she found herself in what seemed to bit a pit. A pit? No. The Pit. That very pit she swore she dreamt of; the one in which the darkness swallowed her whole. Fear. Suddenly she was snapped to that very day she had been branded. It was all happening in slow motion. Those jeers and looks of disgust. Anger. All around Nasada, an energy began to emanate, the cloak wrapped around her shoulder billowing but slightly. Like die atop a hard surface, she could hear the stone beginning to roll. Voth suleyk fid dii fen. With great force, the stone suddenly found itself sailing toward the girl, her eyes only coming to open when she realized what had landed in her palm. Like a child, her lips contorted into an 'O' shape, unsure of what had just happened.

Gheneroc 's voice echoed through the young woman's mind, the final word that he would speak this day. "Now go. Meditate. Find the voice of your will." With that he retreated into the darkness of the den, leaving the girl to her own devices.

• Note: Gheneroc's final post was crafted to represent his final ooc instructions. He had to leave before he could finish the session.