"I hate this part of town." Jannara said quietly, her steps in perfect unison with the Elven diviner who strode beside her. "It's always so...askew."

"Askew?" He asked as they paused at a corner, looking both ways to ensure there was no pending traffic before continuing. "A strange word to choose."

"And yet altogether fitting." Puddles demanded that the length of her skirt be lifted to reveal dainty ankles sweetly enclosed in darkly fashionable heels. It was this alteration in movement that slowed her stride and resulted in her free hand finding the crook of his arm. "In fact I can't think of a better word to describe WestEnd."

There was no resistance on his part; that cambered limb offered for assistance. "Perhaps so, though the fluctuating weave of magic makes detection nearly impossible." He flashed her thin smile. "Which is precisely the reason we are here."

The look given was incredulous, though tinged with a shadowy amusement. "So you've whisked me away to WestEnd so we could be undetected? And here I thought you were a bit more savvy then that, Mage Qualn. Is Violette so formidable?"

Elkinid led her onto the adjoining sidewalk and resumed their travel northward, her inquiry conjuring a laugh pure enough to reveal the melodic sound of his Tel'Quessir heritage. He hadn't expect the normally somber Necromancer to be so engaging. "Alas, it would appear I am simply off my game." A few steps were taken before he added. "And Novitiate Rousseau is more formidable then one might suspect."

"I'm sure she is."

"There!" He said, a slight turn angling their path toward a heavy stone wall between two doors. "That's it."

Confused, her eyes shifted from side to side. "But, that's a wall." She observed after realizing that neither door was their destination.

"Astute as ever." He said evenly with a quick look over his shoulder, right and then left.

Bewilderment did nothing to dull her awareness and slowly Jannara mimicked his survey. "Are you expecting someone?"

"Nau," He said, coming to a stop just a foot or so from the grey, lifeless stone. "In fact, I am expecting the exact opposite." He studied the wall before taking another look around. Nearly alone, and ignored by those scarce persons moving about, he placed both hands on the wall and spoke the incantation. As the words spilled past his slim lips the magic took hold, casting aside the potency of the wall so that he could sink into it as though it were made of mud.

"Elkinid!" Jannara snapped, stepping forward to take hold of his arm and pull him free.

"Come." He said as his eyes found her. "And hold on."

Startled, with little time to think, she stepped fully into him, the hands that grasped his arm sliding down to wreathe his waist as she pressed into his back and clenched her eyes.

It was akin to falling through warm molasses. Thick and heavy, the gelatinous sensation swept over them both with a nearly nauseating caress, yet when they were ejected out the other side they were as clean and dry as they were when they had entered.

"Disgusting." Jannara said, though it was the resonating echo of that lone word that caused her to shudder and look up.

The chamber they occupied was long and gloomy, its rectangular shape extending far beyond where the light ended and the dark began. Lining each of the walls was a waist high shelf that floated upon the air with little assistance from below or above, secured by magic instead of engineering. Upon this elongated plateau were items of all shapes and sizes, organized precisely and spaced out evenly on display.

With a single step she moved up beside Elkinid and whispered. "What is this place?" And though the words were spoken softy they still seemed far louder than intended.

Sharply pointed ears twitched beneath the caress of her breath, the sensitivity causing him to pull partially away. "Ph' dos rin'ov suust?" He breathed. "Just watch."

It was at that moment that a heavy sound from off in the darkness was heard; a grave metal weight drawn across jagged stone to the tune of rusty hinges. Dense steps reverberated with pace, languid and lazy, until from that veil of shade emerged two forms. One was small and squat, no larger than three feet in height, with obese swells that resembled a female gender- yet a host of wiry facial hair refuted that assumption. The other was colossally large, nearly eight feet high, with a slack jaw and uneven eyes. They dressed in the ancient remnants of what was once fine clothing, as though they donned the attire centuries before and just never removed them.

Elkinid offered no sense of expression at their approach, swallowing his surprise at watching Jannara do the same. The powerful necromancer had always seemed stoic and withdrawn to him, no matter her recently mirthful demeanor, and it appeared that in this case remounting that facade was easily achieved.

"You said you'd be alone." The short woman barked.

"So did you." Elkinid's reply came quickly, glancing to the mammoth who stood beside her.

"So I did." She snarled. "Do you have them?"

"I do. And what of your end?"

"I have it."

"Let me see."

"You first."

Elkinid considered his options for a moment. The cat-and-mouse game of such shady dealings was expected, if not a bit boring. They could go back and forth for hours if he weren't careful, and the last thing he wanted to do was extend their audience any longer then necessary. He left his walking stick to stand alone, balanced upon its tip in the absence of his hand without falling. He drew his hat from his head, spilling ivory locks across slender shoulders, and reached inside of it.

From the depths of it he pulled an azure wrap, long and slender. Carefully he peeled back the layers, until a trio of thin, fleshy tendrils were revealed. "There you are."

The woman made a sound that was sickly excited and started to reach for them, though Elkinid's retreating step denounced the notion. "Now you."

Eyes that were filled with fury shot up to meet his gaze and she huffed. Pulling the saggy neckline of her gown away from her chest, she reached inside her plump, droopy cleavage and began to dig. Elkinid keenly managed his detachment - even through the wet and sloshy sound of her exploration - though could not contain the grin that turned the corners of his mouth as the damp bag emerged. She opened it and turned it over, dumping its contents into her pudgy palm.

The gem that ejected was brilliant, bathing the room in a dazzling illumination that forced all in attendance to shield their eyes. Elkinid never once looked away. He could feel the power resonating off of it, and while up to that point he'd only heard rumors pertaining to the potency of the star stones, now that he was in the presence of one he had no doubt it would be the lynchpin to his success.

The stone was replaced back into the bag, and with it went the light.
Elkinid extended his hand, offering her the tentacles. "Here you are, three tendrils of an Alhoon."

"Now you're ready to give them to me!" She barked again, "Now that you've seen what I've got!"

"Xas." He said, noting her shift in intonation as though she had gained an advantage. He couldn't come off too desperate. "You've upheld your part of the bargain as I have mine. Let us make the exchange and be on our way."
The beady eyes of the plump woman stared hard at Elkinid for a long time before finally slithering away to regard Jannara. "And her." She snapped. "The tentacles and her."

"That was not the deal."

"F-ck your deal." She laughed. "I want to be a grandma. The tendrils and her or the deals off."

"Kinid." Jannara said, her deathly low volume promising spells if he were to agree.

He replaced his hat upon his head and with his free hand took up his walking stick. "I cannot. The gem that we bargain for is for the ring I plan to give this woman. She is to be my wife. Without her I have no use for the stone, and without the stone I have no use for you." He tried not to sound too cutting with the words but wanted her to understand the futility of her demand, even if it was a lie.

A dubious look was given from the woman. The monstrous man beside her had gotten so excited at the thought of Jannara that he was sweating. Profusely.

"Prove it."

"I'm sorry?"

"I think you're trying to save your friend here from lying down under my boy. If you two love birds really are trying to build a nest, then I'm gonna have to see it."

"That's hardly necessary."

"So's this deal."

"This deal had little-"

"Alight." Jannara interjected.

A surprised looked - one from the woman and one from Elkinid - turned to the Necromancer.

Jannara, so icy and dark with this mask of aloofness, took Elkinid by the arm and drew him toward her while offering the woman a smile that was forced and sharp. "I do so love to kiss him."

There was a bit of relief from Elkinid at her acceptance of this ruse, though before he could thoroughly consider her surrender to the game she was stepping into him, cradling his angular visage in her deathly cold hands and bringing their lips together. Surprisingly soft, her mouth was molded to his and gently parted so that tongues could greet. This was not the quick peck he was expecting and yet he did not seek to break the embrace. His arm coiled around her waist, pressing her taut breasts against the hard lines of his chest as his head tilted to offer a better angle. Her tongue was caressed and chased with passionate languor.

He felt her startled exhale and heard her moan.

He was the one who withdrew, pulling away with first his lips and then his entire form. He turned to face the stout woman and her grotesquely large son. "There you have it." Elkinid said. "Now...the stone."

"While I'm sure that was exciting for everyone here, that didn't prove a thing. Those looking to get married don't do it because they kiss." She growled as she extended her chubby hand and loosened some arcana. "They do it because they do other things."

Elkinid felt the magic gathering behind him and turned just in time to see an object materialize out of thin air.

A bed.

He turned back to face her, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're insane."

"And you're naked. At least you will be." She tossed the bag up and caught it. "If you want this."

"Forget it." He hissed. "We're done here."

"No." Jannara said. "It's alright."

Another look of incredulity was cast upon the Necromancer from Kinid, and this time he even went so far as to step into her, the tilt of his head putting his lips against her ear. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to owe me." She said. "Big time. The big guy has been watching me since they arrived. He doesn't seem that bright to start with but here in a second he'll be even more defenseless. Take advantage of it, Kinid." She turned her head and softly kissed him on the cheek. "Or else I'll kill you."

"I don't-" He started to say, but before he could finish she slipped away and was moving toward the bed.

Jannara wasn't an overly feminine creature, so to see her attempt a more alluring role threw the entire world off-kilter. Her slender hips weren't meant to sway and yet she tried, arching her back and sloping her shoulders. It should have been seductive, but it was just...off.

To Elkinid, it seemed, but not the woman or her gigantic son.

He was mesmerized, burning holes through her back with his intense stare, oblivious to the thick line of saliva that leaked from his fat lips. Fat fingers gripped and released, gripped and released, as though anxious to get a hold of her.

Elkinid looked back just in time to see the gown Jannara wore slip from her shoulders and spill down the length of her body, revealing the appealing line of her spine and the pert shape of her naked bottom. She wore nothing beneath besides her porcelain pale skin, which was as flawless as that which it resembled, and was unabashed in stepping away to crawl upon the bed - that simple movement revealing the details of her nudity...completely.

Elkinid's appreciation of her unveiling was temporary and he turned back to the pair, a bit disturbed that the mother seemed as infatuated as the son. It didn't matter, though, because Jannara was right; any sense of mental recognition was forfeit at the sight of her. He had to act.

With a wave of his walking stick he cast the spell, enclosing the massive man in a swirling vortex of magic that sought to cling to his soul. Barely visible, it enveloped his frame and seeped through the skin.

"What are you doing!" The mother barked, her attentiveness not nearly as numb as her son's. She threw out her hands and from the tips of her fingers lightning arched.

Elkinid turned back just in time to deflect the bolts with a twirl of his cane, their ricochet finding a section of the shelves and detonating the objects housed there. Fire and light spewed and streaked madly across the room.

The woman again tried to cast, though this time the attempt was thwarted not by the Mage, but by her son. With mental domination complete, he was Elkinid's to command, and as the woman began to cast she was grabbed by his massive hands around her chubby throat and lifted off the ground. She hacked and wheezed, unable to speak, and pounded at his wrists in search of escape.

The bag containing the star stone was forgotten, slipping through her fingers and falling to the floor.

A snap of the cane seized the pouch in magic and brought it to his hand, though he was already in stride; a quick dash for the bed where Jannara stood on all fours. She was looking back over her shoulder when he leapt, curling her around the waist and rolling - he onto his back and her onto his chest. Another spell then, sweeping them both away.

The conversation was easy, much easier than he presumed it would be, and in the end he found that Tasha Van Blaudin was as fascinating as she was beautiful. He'd presented her with his inquest regarding the stars, hopeful that she would see the genuine interest he had for them, and in the end it seemed that he was able to win her over. He joined her as an assistant of sorts, mostly an observer, but one who was anxious to help in any way that would gain experience regarding her technique. He'd yet to actually see her perform one of her readings, though was adamant in his approach that her mastery of spell-craft was in the vein of Divination.

Days were spent at the Institute: a third in the classroom teaching, a third in the classroom learning, and a third in the Library or some other secluded place putting together the pieces that would aid in his next step, which was communicating the instructions to the alternate Elkinid Qualns. It would have to be precise; with even the slightest miscalculation the entire process would be thrown off, and, if it were, who knew what he would end up conjuring?

He had intended to go by and see Tiatari, curious as to what thoughts she might have on his theory, though their schedules left them at odds - which seemed to always be the case. Same with Alaric and Angelica, and even Quillyan, who he didn't know very well but figured he could change that with just a few conversations. No, all were busy honing their own skills and seeking an unused rung on the ladder of magical opulence.

All but Jannara, who seemed content with her role as Mage.

They'd come together by coincidence - Jannara as Master Smout'n's assistant and Elkinid as a teacher of Necromancy had them paired regularly, and once he joined Gorgonhorn they became housemates, which made their association normative. It was a friendship that hadn't been sought nor expected, forged organically and with little effort.

"Right." Jannara said as she eyed him amidst the grim traffic of a dozen skeletons, all of whom were busy at work rearranging the resurrection chamber - a chamber which most Necromancers referred to as Joy Land. "But what you haven't explained is how you are going to link with them across the ethereal. Realities alternate and splinter, Kinid, and the more I hear this plan of yours the more is sounds like you're fishing in a vacuum."

Levitating just a foot above head level to keep from getting in the way of the ghoulish workforce, Elkinid reclined easily, returning her regard with a look of amusement, thin lips drawn into a smile. "That's because you're just hearing the plan and not seeing it. Remember, planes of existence parallel one another vertically. While there may be a thousand different realities and scenarios, the planes of existence, no matter how numerous, stack in vertical columns. All I want to do is poke a hole in our plane and drop a line down to the one below. And then the one below it. And then the one below it."

She waved off his explanation. "That is one theory. Planar relevance isn't an exact computation. In fact, there are plenty who think that the cosmos is amorphous and is in a constant state of unrest."

"Well, that should make for an interesting result."

"Elkinid," She sighed. "The more I hear this, the more-"

"-I don't like the sound of it." He completed the sentiment for her, still smiling. "I've heard this before."

"Well, it's not very smart to try and harness something that's evaded control for millennia and more." She sighed. "It's dangerous."

"The same can be said for all magic." He shot back. "But you have to start somewhere. Even spells which we now consider simplistic were at one time unknown and wrought with danger. To be a wizard is to be ambitious beyond self preservation if it leads to greater achievement."

"And what about this Van Blaudin woman? What does she think?"

The thin ivory brow lingering above his right eye slowly arched upward as he buoyantly circled to fully face the Necromancer, unable to keep the corners of his lips from twitching "What is this I detect? Malice? Contempt?" He paused to draw out the drama. "Jealously?"

"Jealousy?" She laughed awkwardly, turning away to survey the newly cleansed area. She kept her gaze averted for a long time, covertly beneath the veil of observation until she was certain that any indication of her previous response had faded. Finally she spun back on him. "You wish. But if what you've told me about Tasha Van Blaudin is true then she doesn't practice magic like us. For all you know you won't be able to get any help from her."

With the exiting of the skeletons there was no longer a need for him to hover above their heads, and with a snap of his fingers he dropped; dark elven agility easily (and silently) landing him upon the floor. "This may be true. But if I can, it will be well worth it." He turned for the door and paused before sliding those glowing eyes of his toward her. "I appreciate the concern."

She drew in a soft breath and turned away, a shake of her head sweeping sable locks back and forth along gently sloped shoulders. "Whatever. Just know that if you get killed I'll reanimate your corpse and make your scrub Sartha's bathtub until your boney little fingers fall off."

He laughed. "I'll take that into consideration." Promising her just moments before disappearing through the archway.

It was almost time.

Elkinid turned to the hourglass for the thousandth time it seemed, watching its dual colored sand pour through the thin neck. The traditional sand represented the passing of time on his realm while the blue sand was that of the other plane, where his alternate counterpart should have been arriving and preparing to bridge their existence. If all went according to plan he'd soon be in possession of his alternate self's internal magical reservoir, enabling him to compose spells otherwise beyond his reach.

Not much longer.

The opening of the door had him whirling, eyes aglow with startled regard, mimicking the luminance that encircled his hands. Spells were readied to be loosened.

"Really?" Jannara asked as she shook her head, stepping in and pulling the door closed. "Are you going to burn me with some magical fire or something just for wanting to watch?"

"What are you doing here?" He asked with a sigh, easing his stance and dismissing the magical glow. "I thought you weren't going to be able to make it."

With a shrug she slung her pack off to the side, sending it crashing to the floor with a thud indicating heavy books. "Things changed."

It was late, though still Jannara wore her uniform. Certainly she didn't have classes at that time of night, did she? "Why didn't you change??

"No time." She answered coyly. "I came straight from Master Mistmark's class. He wanted to ...talk...about a few things." She gave another shrug, stepping up beside him. She placed her hands upon her thighs as she bent at the waist, bringing her eyes down to examine the hourglass. "Different colors for different realms?"

"Well done." He replied, glancing to the star stone upon the altar, a fixture within its mounting. While it had dwindled a bit over the past few hours its glow did remain, however drearily. "It's almost time. Another minute or so."

"Then you should get in position." She said as she stood, a pivoting step taking her past him. Suddenly she stopped, a quick contemplation filling her eyes, and swiftly she turned back. She took him by the face and turned it, pulling his cheek into her soft lips.

Transfixed upon the waning moments of the hourglass, Elkinid was not prepared for the kiss. As she stepped away he turned to curiously regard the Necromancer. "What was that?"

Startled by the realization of what she had done Jannara quickly turned away, averting her eyes from the elf. "It was nothing. Just be careful."

Elkinid watched her descend from the dais and chuckled. It had been a long time since he was nervous about a spell, and yet somehow having Jannara with him brought a sense of relief. He was glad she was there.

He turned to the arrangement, eyes ticking back and forth between the hourglass and the star stone, though as the last remnants of the sand dripped away he found himself mesmerized.

It was time.

Without hesitation Elkinid began to cast, an outstretched hand summoning his cane from the far wall. Unlike a standard wand, Elkinid had imbued his cane with the same properties and with it could focus his casting as potently as any other wizard. Words ushered in mana and the swirling of hand and cane threaded and entwined it about the star stone. He could feel the magic pulling him, stretching him out as he attempted to reach across the planes and lay claim to an alternate source of power. It was more painful than he anticipated; a lingering anguish that could not be mimicked by even the most excruciating physical turmoil.

And then there was resistance.

Once stretched out and grasping at the arcane essence there was suddenly an opposing force, pulling back to combat his attempt. The strength was shocking. He figured there would be an attempt to withhold his prize and assumed that he had the advantage considering his stance as the aggressor. It didn?t appear so. They were equals, which made sense considering, in essence, they were the same.

Gripping the staff within fingers turning white along the knuckles, he bore down on the aura of magic that sought to resist his attempt, ignoring the crimson lines that trickled from his nostril. A vortex surrounded him, whipping the flames of the room into a chaotic frenzy without extinguishing a one, growing faster and stronger with each passing moment.

The back and forth struggle to gain possession of the essence was in full swing, advantage gained and lost in a matter of moments. Muscles strained, limbs quivered, and his mind was compressed as though in a vice. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep the struggle up for much longer, Elkinid mustered every ounce of power that he could and, with a roar of arcane verbiage, heaved across the ethereal.

The tempest of acrana broke away from its violent cycle and slammed into his chest, yet there was no impact, merely absorption. The currents of power flooded him, spearing through his flesh to fill within. Instantly he felt stronger, more vibrant, more connected to the weave.

The rush expended, sealing inside of him with a snap of magic as it fully disappeared.

Jannara, who stood in awe and silence near the door, gave him?and her? a moment to recover from the event. She stepped forward, cautiously pushing off the door and started to speak.

He turned to face her, looking upon her with eyes devoid of color save for the milky hue of an empty sclera. "I'm fine." He assured her, answering the question she was seconds away from asking. "In fact, I've never been better."

She paused, her outstretched hand falling to her side. She nodded. "Good. I was...worried."

Elkinid turned to face her and in that moment saw an incorporeal assortment of actions revolving around the Necromancer. An image of her moved to him and kissed him. Another stalked over, accusatory finger leveled. Another sobbed softly on the steps. It should have been confusing to see all of these differing variations of Jannara moving in unison, but somehow it wasn't. In fact, things had never seemed so clear. Not only was he seeing the future of Jannara, but he was seeing multiple futures and her responses. One where he succeeded, one where he failed. One where he blew up the school and one where he died. These were all of the reactions she would have and he could see them. All of them. "Master Tracha." He said quietly.

"Master Tracha?" Jannara asked, her confused eyes ascending to find his gaze. "He's not here, Elkinid, it's only you and-" The sound of the heavy door scraping across the stone floor stole her voice and she turned to see who entered.

There, in the doorway, was the Master of Evocation himself: Samcenu Tracha.

"What ar-" He started to ask.

"An experiment." Elkinid answered, having heard a dozen different questions in his mind and able to discern which was relevant before a single word slipped past the Master?s lips. "We've just concluded."

"These chamb-"

"I apologize." He again interrupted Samcenu as he stepped off the dais, taking with him the hourglass and the star stone, dropping it quickly into his pocket before it was seen. "It won't happen again."

"If it doe-"

"Bel'la dos, Jabbuk." Elkinid replied as he bowed his head in passing, his free hand taking Jannara gently about the arm and ushering her alongside of him. She fell into step willingly, her mind swirling as she tried to keep up with the rutted conversation between the two.

She waited until they were down the hall and around the corner to even take a breath. "What was that?" She asked. "How can-"

"Can I know what is coming next?" He grinned. "It's like I can see every future. Can hear every voice. Can see through every set of eyes."

"That's another thing!" She snapped as she pulled her arm free of his grasp. She took from her belt a cloth, reaching up to dab at the blood that had spilled from his nose, which lined his lip as well. "What about-"

"My eyes?" He asked with a knowing smirk. "Not sure, but they look pretty interesting. I don't even need a mirror." He said. "I can see me through your eyes. And hers." He said with a tilt of his head toward a passing novitiate as they emerged from the corridor and arrived at a rather busy hallway. "And his!" This time to a passing apprentice. "It's...amazing."

Jannara sighed and continued to move along with him. She would have picked a different word.

Frightening.

She knocked again, three sharp raps upon the sealed door.

The lack of response was starting to weigh on Jannara as she lingered outside of Chamber Betony, shifting from one foot to the other in obvious discomfort. Elkinid had missed every class that day...everyone...much to the chagrin of his teachers, Master Smout'n in particular. Grilling the quiet Mage harshly at the end of his course regarding the location to the Dark Elf, Smout'n was relentless in his desire to uncover his whereabouts. Why he thought she would know was beyond her, but that didn't stop her from agreeing to helping him find out the reason for the absence.

Which left her there, standing in front of the bone white door.

Again she knocked.

A quick charm tinted her haunted eyes as they traversed the parameter of the door, finding no ward or hex upon it.

It wasn't even locked.

She took the knob in hand and slowly twisted the bronze dragon head, the audible clack of tumblers seeming so much louder than normal. It opened and she exhaled a breath she had forgotten she was holding, tentatively stepping inside.

The room was as she remembered it, replicating the dormitory's of most students save for the monstrously large aquatic tank taking up nearly half of the entire chamber. It still amazed her that Elkinid and Quinnon were able to coexist in such a dynamic fashion. She didn't worry that the Genasi water-elemental was in, having passed her on her way to Mistress Kysinya's class just minutes before arriving.

The light was a dismal medium, appearing in dim balls of light scattered about the ceiling and allowing just enough luminance to make out shapes and figures without offering too many details,.

There, sprawled brokenly across the bed, was the Dark Elf.

"Kinid!' The name passed parted lips with a gasp as her eyes became as wide as saucers. She dashed across the room, no small feat when enveloped in a pencil skirt, and fell to the bed beside him, kneeling, her hands instantly cupping his face. "Kinid! Kinid!"

Nothing.

Tears began to well as she pulled her hands away, swallowing back the thick sob that sought to claim her throat. Palms fell to the slender span of his chest and words of arcana began to spill from her lips. She was a Necromancer, and a Mage at that, able to navigate the realm of the dead as though a captain does tumultuous waters. She could find him. She could bring him back.

Her hands began to glow with dark rings, taking on skeletal features and emitting pulses of power felt clearly across the entire room. Her eyes quickly followed, their color collapsing within to show nothing but empty pockets in their stead. She had mastered such magic long ago and as it fluidly poured from her lips it did so with precision. Master Smout'n would have been proud.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden inquiry stole her fervor and determination, so startled that instead of producing results the spell simply fizzled out. As her gaze returned from its grim veil it lowered, dumbstruck by the sight of the Dark Elf staring up at her. "Kinid?...But...I thought..."

The thin ivory brow above his right eye arched. "You thought what?"
"I...I thought you were...dead."

He held her gaze in silence for a lengthy moment before erupting into a quick, sharp, laugh. "Why would you think that?" His head tilted, playfully.

"Aren't you a necromancer? Isn't telling if someone is dead or not your specialty?"

The relief of his revitalization was stolen by his sarcasm and quickly she stood, smoothing down the pressed lines of her uniform. "Shut up." Was all that she could come up with in witty defense. She covertly wiped at her eyes, feigning dirt, suddenly feeling the fool.

With effortless grace he rolled up and off the bed, standing tall before her, arms out stretched. "Well, as you can see, I am fully alive."

Her attention was momentarily corralled by the lines of musculature that peeked out from beneath his parted shirt, though that distraction, once realized, came to a sudden end as her gaze averted. Searching his eyes and noting their returned color, she quickly spoke. "Looks like the effects of your little project have worn off, yes?"

He nodded, moving past her, the edge of his shoulder just barely grazing hers. "Xas. It's gone." He moved to the full length mirror that hovered in place just beside his desk and tilted forward to thoroughly examine the reflection, using his fingers to part his eye wide. "Seems the eyes are the indicators. I started noticing some color coming back a day or two ago. Now they're fully back, and I can't hear anything."

She watched him as he inspected his gaze, not turning away until he met her eyes through the reflection. "Were you sleeping?" She was staring at the bed, trying to appear astute as she studied the creases in the sheet and the bundle of blankets. "I didn't think elves slept."

"We don't, which just might be another hitch of the spell." Pulling away, his dark fingers began to work at the buttons of his shirt, fastening them. "What time is it? I'm going to be late."

Wheeling back, her gaze was suddenly accusatory. "You've missed the entire day, Kinid. That's why I'm here. Master Smout'n is not very. Not happy at all."

"Fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She yawped. Sometimes she was able to make the most unladylike sounds. "You've got a twisted sense of fascination."

With a simple turn he was at his desk, hovering over a thick book splayed upon its counter. His quill, the golden hue of a Griffon Feather, was taking from its well and put to the page, scratching notes thereupon. "It must be from the sensory overload. The mind isn't trained to handle that many perceptions and because of that, once it is over, it must shut down to recuperate. Even for elfs." A grin formed suddenly. "I've never slept before, Jannara."

Sighing, she moved slowly across the room to stand beside him. She first looked at the page that he littered, making out the content he just described, but quickly found her gaze lingering upon his shoulder, wistfully wanting to put her hand there. "I would congratulate you but it seems like that would only inspire you to try it again."

"No worries there."

"That's good."

A pivot brought him about to face her. "I don't need any more inspiration to attempt it again. I've already set those wheels in motion."