47th of Ash, 120 AS
Lyra sighed as she closed the door to her study, locking the door behind her before continuing down the stairs. As she stepped off the final step the dragonshard lanterns around the room flickered and started to glow, filling the space with a warm and steady light. As she passed one the woman eyed the glyphs appreciatively. She had been the one to design the schema, but those who implemented it had done an excellent job. There was much to be said for a well-versed crafter, and one who could hold their own discretion. One finger trailed along the wooden table at the center of this room, its surface covered with a variety of equipment and glassware still in its packaging. Boxes and crates still filled this space, signs that Lyra still had much to do. Approaching the shelf nearest the table Lyra brought out several large sealed jars that contained a black in. Infused ink, the order she had from Jacun. He had apparently taken to this request with gusto as he had provided quite an ample supply for the first order. Each of these jars Lyra placed upon the shelf, turning them so that the labels faced outward. She would need to aliquot the ink into smaller vials later. These she would place in her workshop upstairs.
Shaking her head Lyra continued on through the small lab area, moving to a door to the right of the stairs. It was made of plain dark wood and opened without a sound. Where the previous lab had been warm and somewhat inviting, this one let out a cold chill the moment the door was opened. The walls were plain white stone, glyphs inscribed from floor to ceiling. The lanterns here glowed a soft white, giving the entire space a slightly eerie vibe. In the center of the room was a long stone slap 7 feet in length and 4 feet wide. It too was covered in pictographs and glyphs of Lyra's designed, meant to aid in the act of necromancy. On it now rested the body of a shambler, a hideous thing with purple skin and a bulbous head. Its large sightless eyes stared upward at the ceiling, and several of its limbs hung off the side of the slab. It was already vivisected, many of its organs removed and setting on metal trails on little stands around the slab. Tubes lead from the body to large glass containers that were slowly collecting the monster's blood.
Lyra hardly spared the body a glance as she walked around the sab toward the workbench against the back wall. Here there were various items and tools used for necromancy. Knives and scalable, hooks, and saws. Even what looked like a hammer and chisel. The shelves above the workbench held different items in glass jars and vials, each with their surface carved by pictographs. Some looked as if they contained organs or bits of flesh. Many of the items floated in a cloudy liquid, motionless unless someone were to bump the shelf.
Setting her bag upon the workbench Lyra removed three vials of a dark liquid, carefully setting them on the wooden tabletop one at a time so as not to drop them. She then took out 2 dragon shards, each just a little bigger than her thumb that glowed faintly with power. Aetherite, of average quality. Lyra grimaced as she remembered the inordinate amount that these shards went for now, but the woman had resigned herself. She needed them for what she had planned next.
"I must find a way to collect shards at a more reasonable price," Lyra mused aloud, picking up one of the vials and turning it over in her hands, "Or collect them myself. Perhaps Be'melar could be of assistance." She slowly set the vial down, a smile quirking her lips. It would be convenient to call upon that one, and she would have a new project for him soon enough...
Setting aside the thought for the moment Lyra took up one of the dragon shards, turning it over in her fingers to examine it closer. The Average shards, unlike the grades below them, were preprocessed. This one had already been worked and cut so that it looked like a fine gemstone. Lyra herself did not quite understand the need for such things, but she had to admit that it gave the shard a nice appearance. Her eyes called the array of tools on her workbench, and she selected one that looked like a thin brush with a hook on its end instead of an actual brush. Closing her eyes Lyra breathed out, a thin tendril of smoke flowing over her lips and collecting around her shoulders. She felt her consciousness shift, and suddenly her perspective changed.
The smoke flowed down her arms, twining and circling her hands that held the tools and the gem. She left most of herself inside of the vessel, which she now moved experimentally, shifting the hook in her hand and rolling the gem between her fingers. Nodding slowly she raised the gem up, bringing the hook to its surface. The smoke that was her flowed around the gem and her hands, and she moved carefully as she watched from her closer perspective as she began to gently carve onto the surface of the shard.
"Touch the essence of the world, move it, shape it, contain it." Soft words flowed naturally from the body's lips as Lyra worked, black tendrils twining between fingers to look closer as they worked. At each of the faces of the gem, Lyra created a pictograph. One was simply a circle within a circle. As it completed the pictograph shimmered before settling in place. This had always been her process. It wasn't that the scripts, or any of the ancient magics, required an incantation. The words were almost meaningless, except they allowed her to focus her mind on just what she wished for the pictographs to do. She breathed meaning into the meaningless and moved the inert with thought and expression. It pained Lyra somewhat to repeat the words of her first teacher, but she could not deny the effectiveness of this method.
"Touch the intangible, pull, and possess. Fill the space." This continued for several minutes as Lyra slowly covered each and every facet of the gem with a pictograph. When she was done the smoke flowed back up her arm, flowing into her mouth as Lyra opened her eyes and examined her work. It was not perfect, but it would do for now. She had considered using a lower grade shard for her soul totem, knowing that it would take time to reach her previous level of skill in the craft. The limitations of these vessels were one thing, but the holes in her memory were growing more and more frustrating. Entire years, decades sometimes, of knowledge and experience was simply gone, eradicated to the void. Beyond the discomfort that revelation brought was a nagging irritation and the sense of being a fraction of who you truly were.
From a shelf, Lyra took down a white bowl, crafted of molded bone that was covered in pictographs that matched what Lyra had placed on the dragonshard moments before. Leaving the hook in its normal resting place Lyra took this bowl, the gem, and a vial of the liquid back substance, and walked to a pedestal in the corner. The pedestal was also made of stone and covered head to toe in pictographs. The pictographs on this object as well mimicked those on the bowl and gem, with a few subtle differences. The goal of this pedestal was to reinforce the concepts of what was placed upon it, and while she used it primarily for the crafting of a soul totem, as she was doing today, it could be used for other projects as well. Placing the bowl down Lyra set the gem at its center, and then carefully uncorked the vial and tilted it so that the liquid aether flowed out and filled the bowl, completely submerging the gem inside. Jacun had been true to his word. He had taken her gaseous essence and condensed it down to a near liquid state. It was a necessary extra step, for while Lyra could not produce a blood of her own she was able to use her own condensed essence as a replacement.
Stepping back Lyra eyed the bowl. The glyphs all seemed to shimmer for a moment, the surface of the liquid rippling before settling once more. Glancing to the body on the slab Lyra sighed and began to roll up her sleeves. The body needed to be processed, and it would be several days before the next step could be performed. She might as well get started.
