50th of Ash, 120 AS
Lyra pulled her hair back from her face, tying it off into a ponytail with the other. Shaking her head she tested the knot, nodding in satisfaction when it did not immediately come loose. Her eyes then skimmed the white room of her necromancy lab, pausing on the pyramid-like a container of glass sitting on the pedestal. Walking toward it Lyra bent slightly with her hands on her knees, staring into the contents which had turned into a red-tinted ink.
"Almost..." she whispered, brushing a hair behind her ear and straightening, "I'll let it mature just a bit more. The mixture will need to be optimized. Perhaps different properties at the infusion phase..." silence lapsed as Lyra began to wonder about that line of thought. She would need to talk to Jucan at some point to inquire about the exact process of creating infused ink. In its base form, it allowed her to add in a few ingredients to slightly alter the properties, but she was certain that there was an optimal state that the ink could be placed in to allow the absorption to be more efficient.
Tapping her chin Lyra looked over her shoulder at the shelf over her workbench where the newest batch of Ichor was resting. It was about that time. Once she ensured its quality she could continue on with the work she had in mind. That thought brought her eyes down to the carved bone that still rested where she had left it, and for the first time in a millennium, Lyra felt... excitement. A smile tugged at her lips as she returned to the workbench, pulling down the large jar of ichor and undid its top. Pushing back the sleeve of her robe Lyra groped about in the doughy substance, pausing as her fingers brushed the smooth surface of her soul totem before pulling it out. She wiped it clean with a close beside her and set it to the side next to the carved bone.
Returning her hand to the ichor Lyra dipped a finger into the substance, pulling it out and observing it closely. Feeling it between her fingers she nodded at its consistency, and it indeed gave off the chill and ghostly mist that one might expect. Satisfied that it was a success Lyra reached beneath the workbench to pull up several small vials, each the width of 2 fingers and about as long. She also found a metal ladle that was made for transporting liquids between containers. Steadily Lyra began transferring the ichor into these smaller vials, each of which was carved with the glyphs of preservation. Once everything was aliquotted and stoppered Lyra resealed the jar with what remained and placed the vials of ichor in a wooden tube rack against the wall on the workbench itself. Her eyes lingered on these for a time, plans beginning to bubble in the remind before she pushed them aside to focus on her highest priority now.
Her eyes fell now on the bone on the workbench, and her smile returned. Picking it up she took a moment to examine the glyphs, ensuring all was in place before she continued. As of yet, the pictographs had not been awakened to Aether, but there was a reason for that. For this particular item, there was an order of things. Taking one of the vials of Ichor Lyra uncorked it, pouring its contents out in a line on the bone. Setting the vial aside she began to massage the ichor in, ensuring it covered every inch of the bone and made its way into every carved line of the glyph. As it sunk in a pale light seemed to fill the pictographs before quickly going still. When all of the ichor had been absorbed Lyra lifted the soul totem, turning it over in her hands as she examined it before she carefully slotted it not the socketed end of the bone. It was a snug fit, but with a little bit of effort, and a few curses, she pressed the gem inside. When it clicked into place a flash of white appeared from the soul totem as it reacted to the pictographs around its base, each of which was keyed to it. Now the last step...
Lyra breathed out, a slow yet steady stream of black that flowed around and engulfed the stylus. She focused on her intent then, filling her essence with her will as she called on the pictographs inside to awake.
"With blood and marrow turn the flesh to the canvas." the words were whispered from the woman's lips, but also seemed to come from the smoke itself, "Awaken to my soul, sing my will into the world and carve it in blood upon the living and dead alike. Bind the soul, curse the body, suffuse, and saturate."
The smoke was pulled in sudden, being drawn to the soul totem which tied black for a brief moment before beginning to bleed out along the pictographs. It was a slow process, but before Lyra's eyes, the white of the bone darkened to grey, the pictographs turning back as the glyph awakened. One final flash and the soul totem was once more a ghostly white, cold with tendrils of mist flowing from it.
With a sigh Lyra relaxed, bringing the newly crafted item to her eyes. She examined it, checking for abnormalities or cracks, yet found none. She smiled, and then she grinned and almost laughed as she raised the item in both hands before her. She had done it. A part of her wondered if it was still possible, but it seems the laws of the world had not changed so much that she could not still manipulate them. This was a special item, one crafted only by those with Lyra's specific affinities and specializations.
"Lys'riel en morei." Lyra whispered, setting the bone stylus down almost reverently. She paused and tapped her cheek in thought, "I suppose... the children of this age would call it a... Necromancer's Quill? Soul Stylus?" She thought for a bit longer, and then shrugged, "Bone Quill is fine for now. It is descript enough." She said this, but even as she decided on the name she felt it did not give it justice. What she had made was something that was useful beyond measure. The bone Quill, when paired with blood ink prepared by the soul totem embedded in the stylus itself, let the necromancer write on organic substances and leave behind tattoo-like drawings. In the age of wonders, every scribe of the gods worth their paper owned at least one set of stylus and ink.
Absently Lyra wondered if any in this time still used this ancient method, but the musing was quickly discarded as she eyed the ink that was now surely finished. Leave the workbench Lyra pulled the slowly swirling reddish ink from the pedestal and brought it back to the bench, bringing out several vials made specifically from ink and setting them on the bench beside the larger container. Each of the smaller ink vials was carved with careful pictographs for preservation, just like all her containers, but on the bottom was a pictograph of a snake with no eyes, which matched several other main containers throughout her lab. With a careful and steady hand, Lyra poured the ink into the different vials, corking each in turn and moving them to a shelf near the door. She left one vial uncorked, and after a brief pause, she disrobed.
She knew this was something that needed to be done. Her schema... it was imperfect. She also needed to ensure that the stylus worked as intended. Thus...
Closing her eyes Lyra concentrated, keeping just enough of herself in the body to keep it upright. She then pushed her truest self out, black smoke flowing from mouth and nose to collect in a swirling mass before the standing corpse. Slowly she collected herself, pulling in the loose tendrils until she formed the visage of her true self. Pake skin white hair and hytori features. Her eyes fell on the stylus, and with a confident motion Lyra picked it up. Excitement thumbed through her form, almost making her lose focus as she was able to easily lift and manipulate the bone stylus. This was in part one of the stylus' features. She could use it, even if she were not in her physical form.
Goldeyes fell on the body and the less than perfect glyph that now adorned it. Lyre flowed closer, examining the heart glyph at the center of the chest, the primary source of the issue. As she searched she saw the problem. It pulled indiscriminately at the aether around her, helping it flow into the channels she had created. In the beginning that was what allowed her to more easily control her body, but after working in the aether forge with Talon Lyra realized this was not ideal in the slightest. Without hesitation Lyra dipped the pen into the vial of blood ink, the glyphs at the tip glowing red for an instant as the ink was drawn in. With a quick motion, she drew a 2nd circle around the entire heart pictograph, imbuing purpose into it. Deny by default all aether that passes. That would ensure the glyph would not simply take in any aether that came it's way. Within the center of the glyph, Lyra now added a new design, connect the points of the cross to form a diamond shape. With a flourish of her pen, she added swirls and flowing lines that connected to the inner circle. As she finished she breathed onto it, and for a moment the glyph glowed purpose and settled. The modified central glyph was an identifier and gateway. The outer lines prevented external aether from entering her body to disrupt the, but the inner pictograph would seek out her essence, and when she touched it while possessing the body it would still allow it to flow through the schema and empower the body.
"Simple." Lyra said, leaning back to examine her work, "Yet such a thing could cause the fall of empires. It was sloppy work that should never have come from my hand."
Her primary goal was complete, however... She dipped her pen into the vial once more, taking in more of the ink, and began the process of connecting each of the dots along her body with a line. All the lines lead to the heart pictograph at the center, and here she very pointedly ensured that the lines crossed the outer barrier and touched the inner circle. It was not needed quite yet, but if she wanted to have the ability to add additions to this current schema she needed to build in a way now to allow later modifications. When she was done she set the stylus down, flowing back into her body once more and opening her eyes.
She raised a hand to her eyes, clenching and unclenching a fist experimentally before nodding. She corked the open vial of ink and set it in the corner of the workbench with the bone quill. There was still much to do, but today... today Lyra felt she had finally begun to make true progress. She would not allow this momentum to stop.
