[ a click of the tongue, dissatisfied, as he shifts his grip on grima's truth. there is an older tongue, an older script, one not spoken anymore in the present day but still found carved and inscribed on some sacred weapons, might be found still in old history books. he casts back for it, dragging ancient history up from the sands they've long been buried under. ]
...moriendum est omnibus.
[ a better reaction this time, flickers of violet light beginning to glimmer on the ground beneath them. closer. not quite, still not just yet. better, though, than when he was casting without a focus, with just the incantations specific to a given spell commonly used in current times. it isn't any grand display of power or destruction he's crafting now. no, all he's doing is letting the spirits take from the wellspring of his power to let it drip into the ground beneath and around them, blood from a wound to etch out the proof of his fell lineage in magelight.
but it's not quite there, a wavering spell... unfamiliarity with the magic system, an unsuitable focus? how funny, that for any prowess he might have had previous he needs to relearn and readjust to the way of things here like any other—
ah. perhaps... ]
Omnia mors aequat.
[ that, at last, seems to do it. the six eyed wings and intertwined tails of the brand of the defile blaze to life beneath them, its heart standing at the very center of the symbol. ]
[ There is a saying—a natural law, if you will—in Day's world: "There's always an ending." He was mentored by a man from the Division of Endings, so he has some grasp of the inevitability of all things coming to an end.
The incantations Robin tried are much like it, but with more gravitas, both more specific and all-encompassing. The part of Day that is (or was, rather, in this distant land) tied so intrinsically to the stars and fate sits up at attention almost reflexively, because this is the stuff enemies of fate are made of. Assessment revised: Robin definitely is as terrifying as some of the people he's known. (The drama of the presentation is probably not helping this.)
Day watches quietly, and for a moment isn't entirely sure what he ought to say. ]
[ translated literally, "There is a dying for everyone," but laced with a suggestion of necessity. translated simply... "Everyone must die," impersonal and irrefutable.
close, then, to the inevitable end he represents, but ... not quite. the sentiment behind it, not yet entirely there. there is a gravity behind the fate he ushers in, a meaning, a consequence: regardless of what one was in life, the end is the same. it may be harsh, and it may be cruel, but it can hardly be considered unfair.
... it might be almost funny, then, how mild the cadence of his voice is after all that, a slight puzzlement in it at the sentiment expressed, even. like the display was nothing but pedestrian, simply the way things are. in any case, the brand fades like it was never there once he stops actively feeding it more magic. ]
Hmm? I thought something like that best to gauge the strength of the casting with. Too small, and even a weaker response might still produce an adequate output.
... Though I admit, there are those who likely might have given me a large berth after witnessing that kind of display.
[ congrats day, you're still here. but you lack the context to know why people would have run from him anyway. ]
[ Yeah, that just confirms Day's reassessment, though if any asked him he would not really be able to put "why" into words. ]
I think anyone not used to magic would be havin' second thoughts at least. [ So what does that say about Day here, huh? (And indeed, he does lack the context so some of this is lost on him.) ]
...But I'm guessin' you were already used to magic yourself 'fore this, since you sound like you know what you're talkin' about.
[ what would be a harmless cantrip, no practical usage on the battlefield. well— that's going a bit far, perhaps, it could probably be used as a signal of some sort with some creativity, but a simple bolt of thunder or swirl of fire could easily accomplish the same thing without quite so much pointless flash.
not like the risen need such things, though, and not like he's taken that particular role of coordinating army movements for a while. ]
But I would say I was fairly practiced at it, yes.
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[ a click of the tongue, dissatisfied, as he shifts his grip on grima's truth. there is an older tongue, an older script, one not spoken anymore in the present day but still found carved and inscribed on some sacred weapons, might be found still in old history books. he casts back for it, dragging ancient history up from the sands they've long been buried under. ]
...moriendum est omnibus.
[ a better reaction this time, flickers of violet light beginning to glimmer on the ground beneath them. closer. not quite, still not just yet. better, though, than when he was casting without a focus, with just the incantations specific to a given spell commonly used in current times. it isn't any grand display of power or destruction he's crafting now. no, all he's doing is letting the spirits take from the wellspring of his power to let it drip into the ground beneath and around them, blood from a wound to etch out the proof of his fell lineage in magelight.
but it's not quite there, a wavering spell... unfamiliarity with the magic system, an unsuitable focus? how funny, that for any prowess he might have had previous he needs to relearn and readjust to the way of things here like any other—
ah. perhaps... ]
Omnia mors aequat.
[ that, at last, seems to do it. the six eyed wings and intertwined tails of the brand of the defile blaze to life beneath them, its heart standing at the very center of the symbol. ]
no subject
The incantations Robin tried are much like it, but with more gravitas, both more specific and all-encompassing. The part of Day that is (or was, rather, in this distant land) tied so intrinsically to the stars and fate sits up at attention almost reflexively, because this is the stuff enemies of fate are made of. Assessment revised: Robin definitely is as terrifying as some of the people he's known. (The drama of the presentation is probably not helping this.)
Day watches quietly, and for a moment isn't entirely sure what he ought to say. ]
...You really know your way with the dramatics.
no subject
close, then, to the inevitable end he represents, but ... not quite. the sentiment behind it, not yet entirely there. there is a gravity behind the fate he ushers in, a meaning, a consequence: regardless of what one was in life, the end is the same. it may be harsh, and it may be cruel, but it can hardly be considered unfair.
... it might be almost funny, then, how mild the cadence of his voice is after all that, a slight puzzlement in it at the sentiment expressed, even. like the display was nothing but pedestrian, simply the way things are. in any case, the brand fades like it was never there once he stops actively feeding it more magic. ]
Hmm? I thought something like that best to gauge the strength of the casting with. Too small, and even a weaker response might still produce an adequate output.
... Though I admit, there are those who likely might have given me a large berth after witnessing that kind of display.
[ congrats day, you're still here. but you lack the context to know why people would have run from him anyway. ]
no subject
I think anyone not used to magic would be havin' second thoughts at least. [ So what does that say about Day here, huh? (And indeed, he does lack the context so some of this is lost on him.) ]
...But I'm guessin' you were already used to magic yourself 'fore this, since you sound like you know what you're talkin' about.
no subject
[ what would be a harmless cantrip, no practical usage on the battlefield. well— that's going a bit far, perhaps, it could probably be used as a signal of some sort with some creativity, but a simple bolt of thunder or swirl of fire could easily accomplish the same thing without quite so much pointless flash.
not like the risen need such things, though, and not like he's taken that particular role of coordinating army movements for a while. ]
But I would say I was fairly practiced at it, yes.