"I'm sure the servants are relieved at the lack of entrails splayed across the threshold. Well done."
Sarkan fixates on the small, single lotus, and he inhales deeply. The shimmering blue-green light dances and flickers, translucent, transient. Though there is no detectible fragrance, he senses deep in his breast that this conjuration is seeping a pleasant warmth. It is a reassuring, almost soothing feeling, and at the very least it functions as a relaxant.
"No, I hadn't come across a Circle magic equivalent in my studies," he says with a snort. "Realistic illusions have abundant practical applications. I'm frankly shocked there isn't one."
He reaches down and tenderly cups the fragile illusion with his slender, vampiric hands, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Hold on," Sarkan instructs brusquely with no explanation. He dimly recognizes he is tearing a page out of his own pupil's slipshod handbook, but rather than simply admire the imperfect, dancing image, he again utters the very same lyrical incantation Myr heard just moments ago -- Vadiya rusha ilikad tuhi...
If Myr allows it, and maintains what he has already cast, he will notice that not only is the Dragon overlaying his own illusions -- vines, petals, extra blooms, herbal scents and freshly-torn greenery -- atop the lotus, but he is attempting to reach out and probe and mingle with the other mage's magic, testing and figuring whether it is possible to mix two different flavors as theirs.
Taking liberties of my own, feel free to correct me! And to run with this lol
Sarkan fixates on the small, single lotus, and he inhales deeply. The shimmering blue-green light dances and flickers, translucent, transient. Though there is no detectible fragrance, he senses deep in his breast that this conjuration is seeping a pleasant warmth. It is a reassuring, almost soothing feeling, and at the very least it functions as a relaxant.
"No, I hadn't come across a Circle magic equivalent in my studies," he says with a snort. "Realistic illusions have abundant practical applications. I'm frankly shocked there isn't one."
He reaches down and tenderly cups the fragile illusion with his slender, vampiric hands, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Hold on," Sarkan instructs brusquely with no explanation. He dimly recognizes he is tearing a page out of his own pupil's slipshod handbook, but rather than simply admire the imperfect, dancing image, he again utters the very same lyrical incantation Myr heard just moments ago -- Vadiya rusha ilikad tuhi...
If Myr allows it, and maintains what he has already cast, he will notice that not only is the Dragon overlaying his own illusions -- vines, petals, extra blooms, herbal scents and freshly-torn greenery -- atop the lotus, but he is attempting to reach out and probe and mingle with the other mage's magic, testing and figuring whether it is possible to mix two different flavors as theirs.