Good morning, Edgar. I am writing to see if you have any interest in meeting with me to discuss your newfound fire conjuring magicks. I heard of the incident via Fjord and thought I would extend an offer to examine your abilities. I know my opinion may not be needed or wanted, and if you wish to decline, I shall not be offended. However, it should be stated that I am a practiced mage and teacher, and although fire is not my element of preference, the method of teaching one magic is something that can easily be translated to assist you.
To the point - how fair your burns? Do you require any aid with them? If you care not for my lessons, do allow me the chance to examine your injuries, at the very least.
i dont know if the fire thing is magic or what, didnt ask for it, but if you think you could help me with it then thatd be good, dont want to hurt anyone or burn anything by mistake
I would be glad to assist you today, if you like. Meet me on the edge of the wilds, behind the training grounds when you are ready - it should be safe enough there.
thanks ill see you there after work He goes to the designated spot straight after his shift at the cafe that day, carrying a little backpack over one shoulder. What's in it might or might not be useful today; he'll wait and see.
As expected, Lioriley was there on the edge of the wilds, the training ground and bakery not far off - close enough that they would be within eyesight of the city, but far enough to (hopefully) not endanger anyone. When she spotted Edgar she turned to smile at him, waving a hand in greeting.
"Yeah, and here --" He holds out both hands, each with its plain white bandage wrapped around the palm. "It's not bleeding or anything, 's just to keep the medicine on. Barely even hurts anymore so long as I don't touch anything hot."
(Which meant he couldn't manage washing the dishes at the cafe today, and had to switch to the few tasks that didn't involve handling hot objects. Mostly sweeping up and pouring cold drinks.)
She took both of Edgar's hands carefully in her own, thumbs rubbing along his with a thoughtful hum and a distinct frown turning her mouth down at the corners.
"Would you like me to heal you? Burns can take quite some time, but with my magic it will not hinder you for more than a few moments longer."
She shook her head. "As minor a wound as this? I will hardly even notice." She assured him, gently pulling the bandages back so she could get to a bit of skin, her fingertips cool to the touch as she pressed them to the burns there. Normally, her healing would be warm as it radiated from the point of contact and out through Edgar's body, but given what she was healing - she made sure it was a little colder to not aggravate his wounds while they healed.
He draws a startled breath and then he's silent, as the healing magic washes through him like -- like a drink of cool water, is all he can think to compare it to, except in his hands and body instead of his throat. The lingering pain of the burns vanishes, swept away, gone.
"Better?" She asked after a moment, pulling her hands back and folding them in front of her, head tilted as she took one last look at Edgar's hands and then shifted her eyes back up to meet his.
The angry redness on his palms, and the corresponding dull hot pain that occasionally burst into sharp stinging, are completely gone. He flexes both hands to be sure, and beams at her. "Much better. Thanks. Really."
"I still don't know how the fuck it happened --" Whoops, that f-bomb kind of slipped out there. He falters only slightly, and then forges ahead. "I was just coming back to the castle one night, some bird or something startled me and I just --" A gesture, both hands cupped inward and then pushing forward. "Boom, fireball. Best guess is the fae gave it to me for a laugh. I'm not doing it by accident anymore though, it was just that first time."
"I would not put it past the fae to grant you such an ability without warning, especially if there was potential for chaos." the Fae sure did love their chaos and hijinks. Lioriley tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That is good, at least. Though I wonder if my knowledge of magic will aid you in better controlling your new ability. Could you show me what you can do?" She took a step back, giving him room to do...whatever he was going to do.
"Course," he says, and steps back a little ways from her.
He's going to take a tip from Fjord, and aim the fire directly overhead where it won't hit anything -- the nearest trees that might overhang them are well out of range. It's less a ball than a stream of fire, flaring brightly in a broadening line and then going out.
She took another step back, just to be safe, and folded her arms over her chest, watching as Edgar cast the (she assumed to be) spell upward into the air. It certainly looked like plenty of conjuring she had seen in her life.
"Hm. Interesting. Are you able to control the way it moves yet, or have you not tried?"
"The way it moves, like ... around corners or something?" His brow furrows. "Hadn't thought of that. I tried holding it in a ball, and that worked but it's how I burned my hands, so haven't tried much else that wasn't just shooting it in a line."
A pause. "Oh -- I did try making like a smaller fire, like a lit match? Couldn't make that work, it just fizzled out."
"Around corners, or in general. If it is indeed magic, you should be able to control it for a time, before it becomes mundane in nature." She explained, uncertain if all of that would go over his head.
"Would you be willing to try forming it into a ball now, and perhaps trying to toss it...? Should you burn yourself, or it goes out of control, I am, conveniently, a master of the opposite element." She chuckled.
That faint frown line remains in his forehead at her explanation, as he tries to think it through. It sounds like it makes sense, but ... well, as long as she's here, even if he fucks up it won't be too bad.
"I'll try it," he says, and holds his hands out as though to grasp a large sphere just in front of him and just over his head. Maybe he can get the ball of fire to form in the middle, away from his hands, and just stay there --
Bright reddish-yellow light flares in the spot between his hands, about the size of a plum at first, then growing swiftly to about the size of a cantaloupe. The fire curls in on itself, billowing and sending out licks of flame but mostly staying in the rough shape of a ball.
Lioriley kept her distance, watching with growing interest as the ball of flame took shape. Given what she had heard from Fjord earlier, she anticipated her potential intervention, but when Edgar gave no indication that he was in pain or hurting himself, she simply continued to watch; fascinated.
"Can you throw it?" She asked, glancing around to an open spot nearby without too many trees. "Try to aim there, between the trunks."
His hands are a good several inches away from the fireball, this time; he's learned better than to try to actually hold it.
"I'll give it a shot," he says, but doesn't sound very confident. It's a moment before the fireball moves, and it only arcs about halfway to the trees before losing coherency and dissipating, the flames twisting upward into nothingness.
Edgar makes a face. "Fuckin genius at this, I am."
"Ooh!" Lioriley beamed as she watched the fireball shoot toward the trees, clapping her hands. "That was very good!" shocking to literally no one - her praise sounded genuine, and she looked pleased when she turned toward him. "Most novices would not be able to keep it lit even that long, and your aim was quite good. We should see what else you can do."
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text
To the point - how fair your burns? Do you require any aid with them? If you care not for my lessons, do allow me the chance to examine your injuries, at the very least.
Take care.
- Lioriley.
text, very hurried, an hour or so later
burns are getting better thanks
are you busy today?
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He goes to the designated spot straight after his shift at the cafe that day, carrying a little backpack over one shoulder. What's in it might or might not be useful today; he'll wait and see.
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"Hey," he calls, once he figures he's close enough for his voice to carry.
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"Hello, Edgar. Is that..." She looked to his hand, "is that where you were injured? May I see it..."
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(Which meant he couldn't manage washing the dishes at the cafe today, and had to switch to the few tasks that didn't involve handling hot objects. Mostly sweeping up and pouring cold drinks.)
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"Would you like me to heal you? Burns can take quite some time, but with my magic it will not hinder you for more than a few moments longer."
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"... You sure? It wouldn't, like, tire you out or anything?"
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"Oh," he says, small and soft with surprise.
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He's going to take a tip from Fjord, and aim the fire directly overhead where it won't hit anything -- the nearest trees that might overhang them are well out of range. It's less a ball than a stream of fire, flaring brightly in a broadening line and then going out.
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"Hm. Interesting. Are you able to control the way it moves yet, or have you not tried?"
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A pause. "Oh -- I did try making like a smaller fire, like a lit match? Couldn't make that work, it just fizzled out."
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"Would you be willing to try forming it into a ball now, and perhaps trying to toss it...? Should you burn yourself, or it goes out of control, I am, conveniently, a master of the opposite element." She chuckled.
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"I'll try it," he says, and holds his hands out as though to grasp a large sphere just in front of him and just over his head. Maybe he can get the ball of fire to form in the middle, away from his hands, and just stay there --
Bright reddish-yellow light flares in the spot between his hands, about the size of a plum at first, then growing swiftly to about the size of a cantaloupe. The fire curls in on itself, billowing and sending out licks of flame but mostly staying in the rough shape of a ball.
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"Can you throw it?" She asked, glancing around to an open spot nearby without too many trees. "Try to aim there, between the trunks."
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"I'll give it a shot," he says, but doesn't sound very confident. It's a moment before the fireball moves, and it only arcs about halfway to the trees before losing coherency and dissipating, the flames twisting upward into nothingness.
Edgar makes a face. "Fuckin genius at this, I am."
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