Light of the Heavens

X. The First Seed

"Taming a djinn is no easy thing. It takes knowledge, but also control," Seben explained, seated on the floor of the entrance hall at the edge of the pool. Vassa sat with her side leaned against the mermaid's, listening intently to Seben's every word. Her fingertips danced across the stone of the statue. "It relies upon phrases of power, like Leyan magic, but the difference is the language. They use their own tongue, we use that of the divine. Fire-speaking is a gift of the Sun God."

"Interesting," Vassa said, tilting her head slightly to the side. Seben could feel a penetrating gaze coming from beneath that hood. "I suppose it makes sense. Leyan mages are proud of what they have done to magic, and while some of them may covet the power of gods, they do not court it. Your tradition sounds more in line with the orcs. They claim their powers were given directly by the gods as well."

Seben shook her head. "We are not brutish with our use."

"Would the djinn agree?" Vassa countered. She waved a hand, dismissing Seben's protest before it could even finish forming.  "So you leash them with incantations and contain them in soul jars."

"That's the simple explanation," Seben said. "The words of power are formed into a name for each djinn. Once it has a name, it can be compelled with will. Soul jars do hold them, but they are also used in summoning them. I haven't ever actually done it myself, but I saw my teacher do it on occasion. The jar is spun and special chants used to turn it into a...gateway."

"And do you experience a drain? A lessening of your own vitality, a cost of power?" Vassa asked.

Seben frowned. "It can be a headache, but the only way I've ever heard of a fire-speaker dying during such bindings is if the djinn gets loose."

Vassa was fascinated. All power came at a cost, the most cardinal rule of magic. While Leyan mages had learned to feed their power on living things around them, even they paid the cost if they ran out of life to siphon. Either capturing a djinn was a discipline so honed in economy that Seben didn't notice the drain or, more likely, the djinn itself was paying the cost. There was no way of really knowing without seeing it in action, of course. "Can  you show me?"

"I don't have a djinn. I couldn't call one if I wanted to," Seben said with a sigh. "You said you had an idea, Vassa."

"The point of failure in incantations, from what I have learned in observation of Leyan magic, is faltering," Vassa said thoughtfully. She still had difficulty understanding that conception of magic. It felt so artificial, constructed, unnatural. It was a crutch made for one who did not know how to walk, let alone run. That said, it could be extraordinarily potent and mirrored the most devastating of elven magics. Overall, Vassa found she preferred the orcish traditions. Whatever one thought of the people, orcs were far more tuned into the flows of Creation than Leyan bloodmages.

"That's how djinn break free," Seben acknowledged.

"And how fire-speakers die," Vassa said, observing the barest hint of a flinch. It was less than she'd been expecting, but still present. "You are uncomfortable with it."

The young woman shrugged. "Most people are with a fiery death."

"You cannot afford to flinch, Seben," Vassa said seriously, rising to her feet. "You pit yourself against destruction incarnate. You must be every bit as powerful as the fire you seek to command."

"I don't think that's possible," Seben said. "Fire-speakers seek out djinn because they're more powerful. They can do things that we cannot."

The masked woman shook her head. "You said yourself that it requires will. Fire is a thing alive, all consuming. It wishes to devour, to thrive at all cost, to grow ceaselessly in size and intensity. That is a difficult element to command, perhaps the most difficult. Come. I cannot give you a djinn to practice on, but I can seek to break your focus as a djinn might."