Ink Forged

~Master Vraylor~

Maevus hesitated in the doorway, peering in to an office that wasn't half as large as she expected. The desk took up a majority of the room, stacks of paper balanced all along its perimeter. The walls were lined with shelves crammed full of books with well-used spines.

A bar of sunlight fell through the massive window across from the door, filling the room with buttery light. It sparkled off another chandelier hanging from the ceiling, fashioned out of glass and copper. 

The walls were painted a deep, sea blue, the floors made of golden wood. 

"Well are you just gonna stand there gawking?"

Maevus' eyes were drawn to her left, where she found a man sitting in a faded blue armchair with stuffing leaking out of the left arm. He marked his place in the book open in his lap, then set it on a small table that was also precariously balancing a lamp and a cup of what smelled like tea. 

All she could do was stare, her brow furrowed.

The man—Master Vraylor—was nothing like she'd expected. He wasn't old, or particularly wise-looking. He wasn't stately or formal. He wasn't anything like what she thought a guild master should be.

He stood up, frowning lightly as he studied her.

Maevus studied him in turn. He couldn't have been any more than ten years her senior, but his deep black hair was streaked with silver, cut short and neatly slicked back. His ice blue eyes were keen, his lean face tanned by the sun.

What he was lacking in age or wisdom, he made up for with a certain imposing gravity. He wasn't stately, but there was something compelling about him. 

With his broad shoulders and trim build, he looked more like one of the range-men from northwest Escana. 

Master Vraylor stepped forward toward the center of the room, scuffed boots loud on the wooden floor. His jeans were neatly cuffed, if faded and the blue, buttoned shirt he wore looked crisp. 

All that was missing was the horse, Maevus thought wryly. 

He leaned against the edge of the desk and crossed his arms, narrowed eyes on Maevus. 

"What's your Charm?" he asked, without any pretense of civility. Now that there wasn't a door between them, Maevus could pick up the telltale drawl of a person who had grown up on the western plains.

"What's yours?" she shot back, crossing her arms as well.

The corner of Vraylor's mouth twitched, his gaze shifting from her to Savrin. Finally, the master extended his hand. When Maevus hesitated, shooting him a suspicious glance, he said, "It's either you or Sav, and I'm betting you don't want that demonstration."

She sent a questioning look over her shoulder, but Savrin didn't supply any answers. All he did was shrug and motion for her to take the master's hand.

"Come on, girlie, I ain't got all day." Vraylor curled his fingers toward himself in a beckoning gesture. 

Maevus grimaced, then lightly placed her hand in his rough palm.

His magic brushed against her skin before shooting down her veins to her chest. She'd barely managed a gasp before his magic recoiled and he let her hand go. Vraylor gave her a charming grin, then snapped his fingers.

Maevus felt a strange stretch through the threads around her heart, then she gaped as Koret appeared at Vraylor's feet. Savrin inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything. The dragon—about the size of a large wolf—gave Maevus a puzzled look before gazing up at Vraylor. He growled softly, the quills and feathers down his spine fluffing with mild irritation.

"Well hello to you too," the master said, gazing at the dragon with fascination.

At the words, the dragon cocked his head, large ears perking up as he watched Vraylor. His opalescent scales glittered in the sunlight, small rainbows refracting off of his sides where the feathers and quills turned to scales. 

After another moment, and much to Maevus' shock, he stretched his bat-like wings before neatly folding them and sitting back on his haunches. A yawn displayed the delicate, milky fangs and bright red, forked tongue in his lupine mouth. He looked like one of the western wolves if one ignored the distinct lack of fur and the wings.

"Mimic-Charm," Maevus eventually muttered, scowling when Vraylor gave her a little bow.

Koret nudged his scaly snout against his hand. Vraylor looked down, a surprised smile playing around his mouth as he patted the dragon's pale head.

"I guess you don't really need to ask mine," she said sourly, throwing Koret a look of betrayal as he leaned against Vraylor's leg.

Maevus sighed when Koret showed no signs of returning to his world. She studied the dragon, who was still watching Vraylor like he didn't quite know what to make of him. 

Koret's obsidian eyes met hers before darting back up to Vraylor. Following his thread, she got the feeling that Koret didn't understand how he had been pulled into her world, but that he was intrigued by the person who had done it. Enough to stick around at any rate, until he could decide if she was safe with the other Encant.

Master Vraylor let out a low chuckle, those ice-blue eyes seeming to take in everything about her. With a small shrug, he said, "You wanted to know. Can you blame me for takin' an opportunity?"

Pursing her lips, she found herself unable to retort. She had asked. And, she realized irritably, she would have done the very same thing if she had his kind of magic.

Mimic-Charms were about the only kind of magic as rare as her own Charm. Many people commonly misunderstood the nature of the Charm, believing that Mimics actually stole the magic they copied.

Vraylor hadn't stolen any of her magic. Mimics simply had the ability to distinguish between the threads of magic in the world, and could tug on them once they knew what they were looking for. But first they had to get a feel for the magic. 

"Merik," the master said to break the silence, smirking a little as he gestured to himself. "Vraylor."

Maevus was still watching Koret with a frown, but this made her look up. She stared at Vraylor, not sure if she wanted to give him her name. Then she nearly scoffed at herself. What did it matter? It wasn't like she had an option.

"Maevus," she returned, her voice short. "Kildaren."

Vraylor's smirk drifted away into something more serious. He tilted his head slightly, studying Maevus for so long even Savrin shifted uncomfortably.

Koret, apparently bored and satisfied that Maevus wasn't in any danger, gave her one last look of uncertainty before he vanished in a swirl of wind that sent several papers fluttering off the desk. Vraylor didn't so much as blink.

Finally, with a shake of his head, Master Vraylor said, "Sav, why don't you give me a moment with Miss Kildaren here?"

Nerves trilled through her at that.

"Sure," Savrin murmured. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Maevus didn't know if that was meant for her, or for Vraylor. Either way, Savrin shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with this strange man.