She observed in a mind-muting way. Cerebration halted into a dull silence, just the half-awareness. The environntal imputations. In it, she felt as nothing—a non-existent thing.
Many saw her like that…Mother often did.
Ivory had tried—countless. Yet, her achievents paled in comparison to what was expected of the highness. Whatever that was? Often, they would say, "Seal valor had fought in the rebellion against the Orvalen." The darkCrowns were freed from this knowledge. They thought it an attachnt to the fallen.
The brightCrowns…they flaunted this to her. And when backed, they delved into Shirera Valor. That powerful woman, they would say. Unlike you.
Yet.
Ivory flowed her mind past urging thoughts. So many. Clamouring. Through them, she found one—Kabel. That odd aspirant. Who was he? A stupid question, she realized. He was an Aspirant of the Absenstation. Yet, one who often indulged in simple things. Like her?
That admitted a strange reaction. Accordingly, Ivory noted her internality. Warmth?
Why? Curiosity? She accepted this as the sole reason—not the other. He was an enigma. A bizarre creature with less but confusing motives. Her smile, this was what he said. To provide her happiness. Why?
There was no emolunt for that. None—it didn't seem to stop him. What then was he to gain? Ivory placed her hands over her stomach, one atop the other. What does he gain? And why do I care for it?
There was no reason to. She was of a higher breed—a high heir—not to so vassal clan, but to a great. Power, might, resources. She was a thing destined to tower all. Why then did a re Aspirant—a man, jerk her internal self.
Was it a latent weakness? Could it? Ivory looked to the Integunt. Could I be a lustful person?
A knock jolted her awareness, snapping her out of the dull state. She turned, beheld the figure on the other side—a man, dark-haired with white strands, dressed in that unique castWarer coat—a silver, dark amorphous sphere beside him.
Miralin.
Her mind stayed a mont on the sphere, thinking about its significance. And accepted a conclusion. Nothing. She knew nothing about it.
Again, the knock.
Miralin, obscured by the special glass, could not see her. She, however, could. A trait that served an important dual purpose. From here, all unknowns were laid bare. She enjoyed this. To see them, but remain unseen.
A sweet thing.
Again, the knock.
Now, Ivory found that an annoying recursion. He should, by now, have sensed a certain reality. The door was unallowed to him, or within lay no one. Which would he accept? None—Ivory saw then, his hands balled, pounding on the glass door.
Such annoyance. She frowned, walked over and touched the knob. In it, she felt the subtle jolt of current. Staring. Ivory was place-locked by the approaching reality. Miralin here, with her, in the special place.
It felt like corruption of pureness.
Ivory sighed away the notion and knew herself suffering from that common hysteria. The masculine commonality. She was not the beast called n. The knob twisted, door parting to reveal Miralin. Him to her.
He smiled, a badly exposed mischief. "And here I thought I would have to sleep outside."
"There is always the outdoors. I hear a storm might co. Perhaps a eting could be arranged?"
"Ah, I missed that flair." He said, "Your castWarers have no sense of humor."
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"The need to keep up with useless banter often drains them."
Miralin chuckled, cocked his head to the side, gasped. "What a place…This you did not show ."
"It's a place far more unique." Ivory sensed the implications in her words. Far too unique, this undermined his person. A thing less worthy of being here.
He chuckled away, strolled past her. "Elastic foams?" He regarded the walls, asked, and touched the desks. "Simple and concise."
Was that a complint? Ivory was stunned by this and saw Miralin pace towards the Integunt. A thing she noted drew his deeper attention.
Would he provide sothing of value? She thought
"Well, I have no idea how this is supposed to function." He shrugged.
Ivory felt a stroke of stupidity. What did I expect? She thought, A re castWarer could never outdo .
Miralin considered her. "What's it called?"
"I would suppose you know the answer to that."
"Just making conversation." He said, "The seal knight—a pompous na, don't you think?"
Does he not see that his words are an insult to the clan? Ivory felt the need to retaliate. Should she? Evidently, such things were expected of her. Miralin glanced at her: "Won't you be closing the door?"
"Perhaps I have a reason to keep it open."
"Soday I might find myself marveled by that counter inquisitive nature of yours."
"So I have not yet made myself a marvelous thing?" Ivory closed the door. "That's a bad way to garner the grace of a highness."
His eyes widened. "An if statent." He cocked his head. "Now, why would you make such chance words?"
Ivory repressed her emotions, fist clenching behind her back. "Why exactly are you here?"
Miralin leaned against the left desk. "Well, I'm pretty sure I told the highness of my wishes in your research."
"Sothing you just claid was beyond you."
"Yes," He smiled, "Beyond perhaps, but maybe not beyond my friend here." He pointed at the protean orb beside him, floating. It made a buzz—sothing for no clear reason, Ivory identified as a greeting.
A thinking ware? Ivory desired a closure view. Yet—"Was this sanctioned by the hivemind?"
He looked to her—an odd face. Cold. "What reason do you have to ask that?"
Silence. Such questions have no relevance to clan—knowing might even be damaging. She skimd the tablewares. Involvent in such issues isn't favourable. She sighed within. Hivemind politics. "No reason."
He bead then. "That's good, now about this integunt of yours."
"Did you not say you couldn't be of help?"
"Did I?" He smirked, "My words might hold a twist, princess. But the castWarer and the Caster are enough of a distinction to be opposites."
"You intend to cast out the knowledge?"
"Oh no." He waved, a physical, psychological trait of his. "Many over thousands of years have tried the sa and failed. I myself, am simply adding myself to the pile."
"That's not a good motive to attempt such things."
"To you, perhaps." He said. "But many a castWarers use failure as a force. I believe at this point it could be a mantra." He sang, "Oh, the failure hunts and I stand against that mind-killer."
A variation of mother's quote? Ivory thought the chances of similarities were minimal. Mother never fancied the castWarer—at least not enough to take on their mantra. Coincidence then?
Likely.
She observed Miralin, noted his attenuate cues of casting. His head propped up, back bent slightly. Often, she heard such things in lower casters. A certain mannerism, a conscious activation of their power. A rare thing. Often enough, most could do this with bare instincts. Like an animal with knowledge of its strength. Why couldn't he?
The obvious answer presented a chance of caster weakness. What rank was he, even? A high fa'n didn't necessarily equate to a high caster rank. Ivory thought, edged closer. Mother is a redeed rank—already she has an Elmiran of her own. Does he? Or did the hivemind disregard power over achievent?
In a way, Ivory accepted this conclusion. It was an alternative motto. Could be at least. The hivemind and their achievents. A thousand years of history rooted in the need for progress. A need that has now easily attached itself to the deepest hearts of society.
All strive to beco a fa'n or da'n. brightCrowns studied ages just for that fleeting glory. She, too, could be counted among such. But did that an they were unstarved for power? That universal uniting desire.
Power.
Ivory felt herself antiquating—fading from the present need. Why did it bother her? His might, weak or strong, mattered not. She was high heir to one of the strongest clans in Eastos. What did a re castWarer offer to her?
Miralin suddenly said, “You know sothing interesting?” His back fronted her. “The Integunt is oddly not comprised of any higherMind symbols.”
Ivory felt the brief excitent waning. “Do you need to explain the severity of a higherMind symbol and how impossible they can simply exist in such…” A pause. “Maudane circumstances.”
He regarded her. “Of course, but curiosity often causes the exaggeration of expectations.” He said, “I believed one or two higherMind symbols might be fused into the form of the oldest armors. Who knew?” He chuckled.
Not one but two? Does he play the fool with —Ivory believed him that, but his title refused the acceptance of it. “Two higherMind symbols, and I doubt your mind would be intact after prying at them.”
“Intact?” He gasped, “I would be happy to have my body still existing. My very soul would be crushed. I might even turn into a talemir.”
“And you would die,” Ivory added.
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