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Chime held the candle up, studying it in the white glow if her mage light. It seemed expensive though, not elaborately so. The wax was pale and blemish free, but still. It was ordinary enough on the surface. If she hadn’t spoken to Tyranus, or visited the dreamscape, she might even be content to stop there. There was more here than what was on the surface. And there were ways to find what was hidden.
Carefully, she spoke a word into the silence and reached into the glowing, golden lake of power that was the heart of her magic. She wasn't sure why the word was important. Perhaps it really wasn't. She certainly hadn't said any words at all the first time she attuned herself to the flow of magic. But, she found over the years of practice, that the word seemed to focus the spell. Or, perhaps focus wasn't the right word. It was more of a bridge. She could still reach her power without the word, but it took so much longer and the amount of power she could draw from, considerably less.
The spell itself, took several moments to take effect. Once it did however, the world seemed to come alive around her. The feel of the ebb and flow of the great weave was a tangible thing when focused by her spell. What had only been a curious sort of background noise before, now seemed like a rushing tide. The cool tendrils of every connection to the weave around her became clear. And, as she expected, the candle in her hands was layered with enchantment.
Chime stroked one finger along the length of the smooth wax for several moments. She had never been good at discerning the nature of a magical item. Once she knew what it was supposed to do, it was easy enough to manipulate an item to work as it was designed to. There were set patterns then. But to actually figuring out what something was; that part could be difficult. She had come prepared though for that possibility. Just because she was weak in something, didn’t mean she didn’t know how to get around her limitations.
With a small, almost smug smile, she set the candle onto the desk she was working at. Casually, she reached out one slime hand, and picked up a dark wooden scroll case. With a practiced motion, she flicked opened the lid. Inside the black box was a small stack of parchment. Carefully she lifted the first page off the stack, and then gently smoothed the scroll out onto the table. After briefly making sure she had the correct scroll. She read off the harsh sounding syllables of the spell flawlessly.
As the last word left her lips, the scroll in her hand glowed blue. There was a small, almost inaudible snap, and the scroll faded into a find dust. She picked up the candle once more and relaxed as she waited the spell to identify the magical properties of the candle.
Carefully, she spoke a word into the silence and reached into the glowing, golden lake of power that was the heart of her magic. She wasn't sure why the word was important. Perhaps it really wasn't. She certainly hadn't said any words at all the first time she attuned herself to the flow of magic. But, she found over the years of practice, that the word seemed to focus the spell. Or, perhaps focus wasn't the right word. It was more of a bridge. She could still reach her power without the word, but it took so much longer and the amount of power she could draw from, considerably less.
The spell itself, took several moments to take effect. Once it did however, the world seemed to come alive around her. The feel of the ebb and flow of the great weave was a tangible thing when focused by her spell. What had only been a curious sort of background noise before, now seemed like a rushing tide. The cool tendrils of every connection to the weave around her became clear. And, as she expected, the candle in her hands was layered with enchantment.
Chime stroked one finger along the length of the smooth wax for several moments. She had never been good at discerning the nature of a magical item. Once she knew what it was supposed to do, it was easy enough to manipulate an item to work as it was designed to. There were set patterns then. But to actually figuring out what something was; that part could be difficult. She had come prepared though for that possibility. Just because she was weak in something, didn’t mean she didn’t know how to get around her limitations.
With a small, almost smug smile, she set the candle onto the desk she was working at. Casually, she reached out one slime hand, and picked up a dark wooden scroll case. With a practiced motion, she flicked opened the lid. Inside the black box was a small stack of parchment. Carefully she lifted the first page off the stack, and then gently smoothed the scroll out onto the table. After briefly making sure she had the correct scroll. She read off the harsh sounding syllables of the spell flawlessly.
As the last word left her lips, the scroll in her hand glowed blue. There was a small, almost inaudible snap, and the scroll faded into a find dust. She picked up the candle once more and relaxed as she waited the spell to identify the magical properties of the candle.