36th of Frost, Year 121 Steel
Though she hoped it wouldn't come to it, Kala was preparing for the worst. If she could not with sufficient time and skill persuade the ghost haunting Torin's home to move on into its afterlife or reincarnation, then she would have to soul bind it. That required her to prepare the ivory dagger she had purchased against this need as it would take a full month to be ready. She hoped its power wouldn't fade too quickly if she didn't use it right away. If she managed to bind it, she would just take the soul to the Temple of the Fallen Skies and ask one of the monks there to help her release it into Wraedan's embrace.
The preparation of the dagger would be the easy part. She wondered if she would have figured out the complex scrivening circle she would have to successfully pin the ghost into with soul darts long enough to bind it by the time the dagger was ready. The tools were one thing, the process another. In the workshop, she pored over her notes one last time, then called Fire, as much of it as she could pour into a single point. With that white hot point, she carved the pictographs into the dagger: servitude; domination; the linking of souls. Her nose wrinkled either at the smell of burning ivory or the thought of dominating another soul, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that she would use this power for good rather than evil, or at least altruistically rather than for self-gain. She didn't claim to know what was Good and what was Evil. Wisdom was something she hoped to gain over many years, not imagining she had much of it at her age and limited experience.
After reviewing her work, she made a few slight changes, then added what was becoming her signature on her tools of necromancy: Raella; Wraedan; Keela; Lyren. These deities reminded her that she was playing with the powers of Life and Death, and needed to balance Wisdom and Knowledge. Once more, she checked her work, this time against her notes. When she was satisfied, she put the dagger into her ivory bowl. It had made two soul totems for her already, and it seemed appropriate to use it for this as well. She scrived a ring of pictographs, chaining them with various linkages and other marks to channel the power to greater efficacy.
Then, all that was left to do was feed the spell and let it rest for at least a moon. From the cupboard, she pulled a jar that glowed with a misty white light. She poured that ichor over the blade, patiently waiting for the last of it to dribble out. It left no residue within the jar, though the glass remained chilled to the touch. All the same, she set it aside to wash. One could never be too careful when it came to magic.
Then she took a scalpel and carefully cut into her wrist. Her studies with Doctor Wardell were coming in handy, she thought. She had a better understanding of how to cut so that she did the least amount of damage and would heal quickly. She needed blood, but she didn't need to tear up her body to get it. The incision was small, the blade razor sharp. She held her wrist over the bowl and let her blood drip into the ichor, which had also required blood. Necromancy might not require a Cardinal Rune, but it required a great deal of blood. Feeling the pain through their bond, Kaus came quietly into the room. She wove Water and Earth and bid the water and iron in her blood stay put while he bandaged her wrist; it was just easier for him to use two hands than her to attempt it with one.
"You're getting better at that," he said, unnecessarily, though sometimes they chose to speak aloud. "Cutting." His lips quirked as if he wasn't sure that ought to be a compliment or not, though he understood what she was doing and why.
"It's strange," she noted. "I don't enjoy pain, but it does clarify the mind."
"Until blood loss clouds it."
"I didn't need that much."
He nodded. Kaus wasn't truly worried. The necromantic processes were so slow, she only did something like this perhaps once in a season and that was plenty of time for her body to regenerate. But her work was steady, stocking up for future need, and he supposed that was wise. After all, she had been the one to think of bringing medical supplies into the Warrens when they became adults together, and if she hadn't had the foresight, Indric might have died in the Warrens, and Ceran along with him. And even if things went well with their mercenary endeavor, they would most likely come to her needing medical care at some point.
"Do you need something to eat?" he asked. "Something to drink? To lie down?" He ought to be able to sense such things, but sometimes she wanted to work through it rather than take it easy. He knew she wouldn't be sprinting around the courtyard or anything ridiculous like that, not after losing a significant amount of blood. She was practical.
"I have water here," she mused. "But if you want to ask for a meal, I will be ready soon. I do want to write down notes for Torin. I'm going to need my own surgical tools at some point and he is a talented blacksmith in addition to his runeforging."
Kaus smiled. "All right. I'll be in the kitchens."
She reached out and touched his arm, smiling. Sometimes a little touch reminded them how they were always in each other's minds—literally. People said twins were close, but not all twins were core bonded as they were.
When he departed, she poured herself some water and pulled a stool up to the table so she could glance at the bowl from time to time while writing. It was still a small marvel to watch the tools she made literally drink blood, ichor, and whatever else was necessary for their creation. Kala hadn't yet lost her wonder at magic.
There were various containers she would need eventually, and some of those had to be made out of bone—or, if she followed her trend, ivory. Master Fletcher at Dust to Dawn was supposed to let her know if he saw anything she might use, and if he hadn't found something by the time she needed it, she might try Phoma's or just have something made specifically for her. But there were metal implements she would need, the tools of her nascent trade.
She described a carving hook, embalmer's tongs, and an osteotome. She would provide actual schematics if he didn't have a better source than she did, or she might borrow various of them from the Tranquil Gardens so he could decide how to make them more efficient. She would rely upon him for that. She made notes of the pictographs that would be required so that the tools would direct the aether of a body to heal itself per her directions. Rejuvenation, revitalization, and the dampening of pain were important concepts to be scrived into the tools. They also needed to have simple mechanisms attached to one end so she could affix a soul totem to them, empowering them with necromantic energy. She did draw out some of the pictographs she had in mind because she knew Torin was keen to take Mistress Feada's advice and learn at least the basics of Scrivening to aid in his work. This might be a project where he did the blacksmithing and then, together, they worked the pictographs into them. That way they both learned through the process, which they both enjoyed.
Someday, she might need him to make her a Needle of Memories, but for now, she was going to focus on the Way of Souls and the Way of Flesh. The Way of Remembering was not her priority, though she supposed she might eventually study it because she enjoyed the knowledge. But she made a note to remind her to talk to him about more soul darts. They could be bigger, and she might even have him make them with a sort of flattened, coin-like disc at the end that could be stamped with pictographs as well. She knew the details of necromancy worried him, but he might still focus on the challenge of her requirements.
She stood up, then, pausing to make sure she wasn't woozy, and took the letter with her. She would send it to him with Timon, and then discuss matters with him later. For now, she needed to eat something and relax. She didn't want the blood loss to slow her down on the morrow.
