45th of Ash, 120 AS
They had done a marvelous job. Even Lyra was impressed with the quality, and design of the final product, though perhaps she needn't have been. Edelma's Finery had quite a reputation, and it seemed as if they had delivered. When she had gone to pick up the dress earlier that day Lisa had nearly dragged Lyra to the pack, throwing the dress on her in a rush that made Lyra's head spin. It had... stunned her, to say the least. A few minor adjustments had to be made, but for the most part, it all fits perfectly, crafted specifically for her shape and form. She almost did not want to take it off when she left, though gentle urging from Lisa made her see reason. Lyra had been surprised to learn that Edelma herself had done the embroidery, and it was exquisite.
She was now back at her small apartment, the dress laying on the bed before her. Lyra simply looked at it, still drawn in by the beauty and workmanship to the point that she could not look away. It was slim and well fitted at the top, with the material of the upper body a tight and form-fitting cloth that hugged her skin and felt almost as if she were wearing nothing at all. The long sleeves reached all the way down to her hands, where single metal rings that went over each middle finger kept the material in place over the packs of her hands. The dress itself flared out slightly at her waist, falling in waves to the grown where it just barely brushed the ground. When she moved the material swished and swayed with her, making soft whimpering sounds as it crossed stone or wood. While she was in the shop Lyra had tried a few movements, bending and bowing experimentally, and was delighted in the range of motion the dress provided. It was like magic, or so she had said, which made Lisa smile. Apparently, the proprietor gets that quite often.
The dress itself was nearly pure black, but it was covered in what could only be described as intricate embroidery from top to bottom. It was clever, Lyra thought as she examined it. The design began on the left shoulder, a flowing serpentine form curling around the arm with its head resting over Lyra's heart, the symbol of the no eyed serpent. From there a series of lines branched out, like cracks or spiderwebs that flowed down the back and arms. The design down the back flowed and wove in and out of one another, forming cords and swirling tendrils reminiscent of golden smoke that shaped itself into odd twists and patterns until it reached her waist. From there the smoke seemed to scatter, billowing down her dress and cascading around her hips down the front of the dress. The smoke patterns made swirls connected with detailed lines of silver, twining over one another like a waterfall that ended at the hem. The designs down the arms were thinner, more delicate tendrils that spun slow circles around her arms down to the wrist where it connected to the aetherite gems on the backs of her hands. It was a work of art, and the more Lyra looked at the design the more she thought she could see. On the back the shapes of mountains began to pick themselves out, but if one looked too close the shapes were gone, replaced instead with mere billowing smoke. Through the waterfalls of her skirts, Lyra thought she could see teeth, or wings, or entire landscapes that were quickly washed away in the display. Across the entire design however, a similar pattern repeated. Lines connected to stylized eyes surrounded waving lines of power. The eyes themselves were made of golden thread, accented with silver, and all were connected and linked back to the central pictograph of the now eyed serpent.
She would not have thought it possible, had she not seen it for herself. Somehow, Edelma had worked her glyph into the embroidery itself, masking it or, perhaps, enhancing it in some way. The way it was done was so clever that if she had not been looking for it, Lyra might not have noticed it herself. Each of the eyes was a pictograph designed to extend her power, creating a bubble of influence that would carry with it the flows of her magic to any who happened to be near. A blanket effect that she had not been able to recreate since being released. The aetherite dragonshards served as the power source, while the no-eyed serpent was the heart of the glyph, and represented Lyra herself. As Lyra looked closer Lyra realized that the edging of gold that traced the seems of the dress were actually extensions of her own design, an extra layer that tied the glyph together even stronger than it had before. Was that intentional? It seemed like it, though that would mean that someone had not only read her schema, but had known how to improve upon it. The implications were.... But no, that was a thought for another time.
Stepping back Lyra took in the dress in its entirety now. It was beautiful, well crafted, and if she closed her eyes she could almost hear it singing to her. The threads which formed the dress' embroidery had been infused with Lyra's very own condensed aether, courtesy of Jucan himself. All that was left now was to wake it.
Clasping her hands at her waist Lyra closed her eyes, breathing in deeply as she gathered herself up within her vessel. Slowly she breathed out, leaning forward as a billowing cloud of black fell over the dress, circling it and seeping through it. Lyra let her mind seep into that could, touching the cloth with her true form and marveling further. As she had expected the threads of the embroidery hummed with power, responding to her touch in a way normal infused ink simply did not. It responded to her because in a way it was already a part of her. As she traced the lines of power Lyra began to whisper beneath under her breath, willing a picture to form and overlay the design.
"Of me, you came, and with me, you go. I give you life, wake, and be made whole." Electricity sparked as the aether in the air began to move, the threads vibrating as she touched each and every strand. At each eye she concentrated, repeating the phrase and pressing herself close, "Open the eyes, expand the senses. Lift the veil and let my influence spread."
Over and over she did this, for each and every eye, each and every symbol, every vortex, every path. As she moved Lyra began to notice something odd. Her magic, the melodies she shakes through her rune, did not just vibrate the embroidery, it was echoed into the dress itself. Surprise colored Lyra's consciousness as she sank into the fabric, suffusing it as she continued the chanting. The dress itself began to take in the power, lead by the glyph but accepting in a way it should not have been capable of. It was then that Lyra realized something startling.
"The threads," Lyra gasped, opening her eyes to stare, "They were woven into the dress itself."
As she observed she found that the statement was correct. Not just the embroidery, but the seems, where cloth met cloth, and in parts where threads overlayed one another strands of her infused thread and been worked into the weaves. The power of the glyph then was no trapped to just the embroidery but suffused through the dress itself. It made the entire dress feel as if it were a part of Lyra, a second skin that she could feel like the skin of her vessel.
"Isket'al." Lyra murmured, closing her eyes and forcing herself to concentrate. This... this was something new, something she had never experienced before. More and more Lyra was coming to realize that this age... it was not as broken and backward as she had originally thought. These children, instead of crying about the loss of the deep connection to the powers of the world, they instead had found clever ways to make use of what they did have. It was... artistic in a way the age of wonders could not compare to. Sierra would have loved it.
Power thrummed as the glyph responded, pulsing in time with Lyra's aether as the weaves settled in place. The glyph itself had no inherent function of its own. Instead, it accepted the mesmer idea from Lyra and expanded her range, radiating it out and letting her leave it there, empowered by the aetherite shards in the dress itself. She could create an effect, set it to motion, and then leave it until she wished to turn it off. A simple, yet efficient glyph that would let Lyra adapt to any situation.
As the last line of power faded and the glyphs settled Lyra withdrew herself from the dress, feeling a pang of loss as she departed, filling the vessel once more and opening her eyes. She stared at this dress now with new eyes, feeling as if it was more than a dress. It was like this body, a second skin for her that was at once a part of her and separate. It was... disconcerting in away. Pushing away those thoughts Lyra stepped forward, pressing her hand against the no-eyed serpent on the chest. She sent a ripple of power through the glyph, the lines shining as the gems at her hands shimmered and grew dim. Then she could feel it, a steady rhythm being released from the schema, echoing the intent she had given it. She noticed, however, an odd secondary effect. From the lines was a faint black smoke that seemed to rise, just barely visible before it disappointed. It was not overly obvious, so it did not concern Lyra, but with interest, she realized that this smoke felt like... her. Frowning slightly Lyra kept her hand on the glyph, grasping at the smoke as she did that which she generated naturally. The hem of the skirt fluttered like a soft breeze had come through, though at a glance Lyra realized that the window was closed.
"How... odd." Lyra said, commanding the glyph to silence and the lines of smoke faded. With careful hands Lyra lifted the dress, placing it on its hanger, and gently hung it in her wardrobe, separated from the rest of her robes. For a time Lyra simply stood there, looking at the dress. Somehow she felt as if she had... discovered something, but for the time being, she could not quite place her finger on what.
