The pages simply made no sense.

Solara's eyes skimmed across ancient words, symbols, and depictions of magics long lost. Ancient demons seemed to reside in the books she read, their likeness embedded on almost every page. At least, she thought they were demons. Long tendrils and firey auras, figures of humans fleeing in utter terror. She could make out none of the text that followed the images, but she could assume. At least she could be sure that the figures surrounded in violent flames were as close to demons as she dare think, being capable of manipulating and coercing beautiful flame toward utterly destructive ends. She showed no reactions to the pages as she became more and more frustrated. The tattered scrolls and faded books were in languages she could not even hope to translate. She settled with running her fingers across the pictures, though those sometimes seemed foreign to her as well.

She sat alone at a secluded table in a far nook, the surrounding walls seperated into tiny boxes that held stacks of scrolls. She had hoped to find something more about the fire magic that she loved, but she was very dissapointed to find nothing of use to her. She knew she was incapable, but she still held a flame of hope to finding at least one volume that she could at least read. It had only been a short time since her decision to devote more time to the Academy of Magic, but she was very proud of her progress to that date. Unfortunately, her luck did not follow her into the library.

Starting to give into her dissapointmend and annoyance, she placed both hands on the table in front of her and tilted her head back, letting out a loud sigh.

The simple sigh sounded like an avalanche in the silent room. Jarreth's neck cracked as he turned his head to see the source of the noise, offering its own echo to the chorus. He could not help but be disturbed by the sheer stillness of the libraries inside of the building. It was almost as though the sound was being mopped up by some looming mist. In actuality, there was such an effect put in place by the caretakers, but it still felt ominous. Jarreth noticed a woman tucked away in the far corner, almost hidden from his sight. If it were not for the magical glow that kept the halls and rooms well light, he would have mistaken her for a trick of his eyes. He quickly skimmed the pages on his lap and decided that he would not find any more information in the volume. The morning had dissapeared while he flipped through old, torn texts only to find nothing. It was not entirely of consequence, Jarreth had plenty of time and patience remaining.

He stood up from the stone bench and pushed the book back onto the shelf with his finger. His eyes glanced over the neighboring spines to make a mental note about which ones he would sift through the next morning. Until then, it was time to distract his mind with other events. He found that it kept him from becoming frustrated by dinner, which would ruin his appetite.

Jarreth stretched his shoulders and back quietly as he turned his attention to the woman that had sighed. It had been almost three days since he had spoken to anyone. Even then, his last conversation was with a stuffy mage who preferred his own voice over Jarreth's. It felt it was worth the effort to try and speak with her, and he called, "Good day, m'lady. I hope your search is going well."

Solara was mildly startled by the voice that spoke to her as if it had appeared from nowhere. While she had been aware of the man that flipped through pages in the room with her, she had been so swept up in her own studies that she did not keep track of him. Before she realized that he had finished his book, he was already up and trying to speak with her.

"Oh, good day," she managed to reply as she quickly closed the book on her lap. "My search continues, whether that is good or bad."

She hoped that he had not been paying enough attention to realize that she could not read the pages. Solara could only feel foolish when she thought about how much time she spent just staring at pictures. She could hear her mother rambling on about how smart her daughter was, and that she would learn the secrets of the world before she was finished. Solara had trouble believing her then, and she certainly had no hope of believing her now. Her finger idly ran back and forth on the cover of the volume. She was amused by the raised text that felt comfortable under her skin. It was in an ancient and ornate language that would have read "Denizens of the Dark Hours" should she have known how to translate the words.

The man standing before her was handsome, in a rugged sense. His clothes were definately not the sign of a magus. Of course, the non-descript tunic and pants could not define him as much of anything, whether that be farmer or warrior. She doubted he was a nobleman, as the shirt was not embellished with frills.

She was pleased by his casual greeting. It was something too rare in a building full of stuffy magicians. She continued the conversation lightly. "I saw you thumbing through books yourself. Perhaps your search has gone better than mine?" she wondered out loud.

Jarreth watched her finger move back and forth across the book in her lap as she spoke. Her voice was soothing, even though it was barely making its way to his ears before being swept up by the silence of the room.

"Oh, I did not find anything immediately useful. I cannot understand most of the volumes in this dusty library anyway," he admitted. "I swear these shelves were built before anyone started writing books."

Jarreth let out a light laugh and shook his head. He rememberd when he showed a scroll he was having trouble understanding to one of the magisters. He had a difficult time keeping a straight face as a distinct look of confusion seeped into the old man's eyes. Jarreth hardly had a chance to thank the mage for his time; the magus had vanished into the hallways to tend to some chores.

His eyes were drawn to the cover of the book again. He had read that text a week prior. It was an interesting bestiary to say the least. He managed to take mental note about several known weaknesses of a few of the creatures. While he may have lost his zeal in recent times, he still retained a pit in his stomach when he thought of the evil creatures he had encountered in the world.

"Look here," he said as he pointed to a nearby shelf, "this scroll is legible and clear, while the one beside it is obviously authored by a drunk with a dry pen."

Jarreth took the scroll he had deemed legible and opened it slowly to skim some of the words. It was a general document discussing the distinct similarities between magics of various elemental backgrounds. Jarreth's distaste for magic had lightened since he discovered that the holy powers granted to him by his God were simply another form of the same spells. Reading about it still made him uncomfortable, though he applied himself as best he could toward understanding what he did read in hopes that it would aid him in the future.

Solara was shocked. While she was sometimes used to being thrown during a conversation, she was rarely at risk of losing her train of thought entirely. Her mother had a habit of reminding her that she was never alone. Just because Solara was struggling with a problem did not mean that she was the only one trying to solve it. Here she was, years later, feeling useless because she could not read any of the books, and this man was having the same issues. Instead of hiding his inability to understand most of the contents, he instead embraced it and took humor in the situation. She envied the man. Of course, he could apparently read more than she could.

She laughed at his joke. She could picture a scribe being told to stop scribbling while someone made sure the shelves were level. She knew that the joke had no bearing on the truth, but it still made sense. Solara could understand that a sacrifice had to be made in a building entrusted with being the largest source of written information possible, but it did not make sifting through the indecipherable volumes any easier.

When she finished giggling, she admitted something that she had been trying to hide only moments before. "Truth be told, I am having a hard time finding anything that I can make sense of in this entire academy. I cannot even pick out a word on that scroll you are holding, good sir."

Solara wondered if she was getting her burst of courage from the man, or if it was just frustration reaching its limit.

"Of course, now that I've embarrased myself, I should give you my name so that you can mock me properly. I am Solara," she rambled. Apparently her courage was not as resolute as she had thought.

He chuckled again as she made a haphazard introduction for herself. It was a spontaneous response, and he hoped she would not be offended. He clarified his laughter quickly.

"No, there will be no mockery. I am pleased to meet you, Solara. My name is Jarreth, ex-Captain of the Legion of the White Souls, defunct paladin of the cause, master of arms, and snivelling page boy of understanding whatever it is that these mages have put on these shelves," he states with explicit sarcasm. "You see, just because someone can read something does not necessarily mean that it makes any sense."

Jarreth smiled warmly at Solara. He thought it was silly that she would become so worried about some dusty old tomes. After all, he was hardly an archmagus. He had extremely low expectations, especially in matters regarding magical texts.

"So, may I assume then that you are not a young mage?" he questioned sincerely.

He rolled the scroll back into a tight cylinder in his hands before tapping it idly on his right shoulder. It made a safisfying thump as it struck his shirt. He noticed that the scroll he picked was fairly popular. It had not picked up the thick layers of dust like some of the books on the higher shelves. Unfortunately, the thumping sound was also eaten by the air, just as their voices had been since the beginning of the conversation.

She sighed and pressed her palm into the book that was still resting on her lap as Jarreth went through a long series of titles, most of which did not make any sense to her. She was not well versed with the structure of armies. She did appreciate his effort to make her laugh as he described his circumstances at the Academy. Solara offered a grin to his joke to be polite, but her mind was on too many other topics to give up any real laughter.

"No, I am not a young mage, but it is still nice to meet you, Jarreth," she replied. "It seems magic takes pleasure in eluding me, even in this place. All I have are a few tricks. They seem hardly fitting for a place designed to house some of the greatest mages that live."

Solara sighed again and lifted the book off of her lap. She placed it on the shelf next to her with grace and care, although she was not aware of the beauty of her actions. Like the fire cannot understand why its audiences stand in awe, so too did she continue through her life without trying to unlock such large mysteries. She looked into Jarreth's eyes by habit, judging him to be a kind man.

Illumani faer

Her attention moved to her right hand, and she watched it glow in a slowly shifting rainbow of colors. When the rainbow faded to red, the color collected at her fingertips and formed a small flame. Then it too would drift back over her hand and continue shifting through the spectrum. Solara had practiced the transition day in and day out for over a month, and she was gaining proficiency, but she did not realize it. She looked back at Jarreth, showing him the paltry knowledge of magic that she possesed.

He had not seen anything quite like the colored fire that crawled across Solara's skin. Each shade was entirely distinct and vivid, especially the blues. The flickering light seemed enamored with its newfound vibrance as it danced and played. When Solara created true flames that burned atop her fingertips, it blazed like the first star in a clear night sky. Jarreth was astounded. He was almost lost in the beauty, which completely overtook his dislike for magic. This was different and amazing.

"My dear woman, if that is a trick to you, then I believe you have surpassed many who spend their lives in this place," Jarreth complimented wholeheartedly. "That is absolutely astounding. You do not give yourself the proper credit."

Jarreth smiled and excused himself as he sat at the table with Solara. He had placed the scroll down already and felt relieved as his back cracked. He found this table to be much more bearable than the small corner he had secluded himself to that morning. Here, he had a wall to rest on and stretch his muscles against, while he was forced to hunch earlier. Jarreth took advantage of his closer view of Solara's hand and continued to watch intently. It had been so long since he appreciated the beauty of anything that he did not want to let the moment pass.

She could not help but blush. Her concentration was broken, and the rainbow on her hand faded and vanished into nothingness.

"You are too kind, Jarreth," Solara stated as she bit lightly on her lip.

She was confused. Solara had not reacted this way to a man's comments before. She could not be entirely sure what had come over her. Perhaps it was his compliment of her magic. Maybe it was just hours of scouring books getting the best of her. Then, she though, it could be his cute smile. Solara mentally slapped herself. Her mother died when she was too young, Solara did not know how to deal with her attractions toward men. She did not even have a father to love as a child. The whole ordeal was new and frightening, even though she came of age many years ago.

Solara sighed as she open and closed her right hand. She did appreciate the compliment, but she was not convinced that he was correct.

"I do not see how you can be so amazed," Solara commented, "It is only a spark of fire and some color. It is nothing compared to those I have seen walking these halls."

Jarreth shook his head and dropped his eyes. He had always been forced to be confident in all of his actions. Solara's self doubt was something of a mystery to him. It was often by sheer willpower that Jarreth found his way out of dangerous situations. He had once given his vey life to the hands of fate while battling the forces of evil in the city of Taras. His foolishly bold move was rewarded with the lives of many innocents. His own was spared as well. Jarreth was never fully aware of the extent of his beliefs until he had already charged headfirst to uphold them.

"The only thing they have that you do not is the belief that you are going to make it happen," Jarreth lectured.

He placed his hands on his knees and stood up from the table. Jarreth stretched his back and stepped away from Solara's corner. He took a single, deep breath as he looked at the ceiling. He was going to help a mage.

Jarreth turned around to face Solara as he urged her, "If you cannot believe in yourself, use the belief of another. Show me your blue fire freeze to ice!"

He would push her. He could not explain exactly why, but he believed in her. He hoped that would be enough.

Solara could only think of her mother.

~~~~~

"No, I don't want to try again," Solara whined in her childish voice, "Its been all night, and I have not done it once!"

"I know we have been going for awhile, and I promise I understand how tired you are, but just try it one more time," Solara's mother urged.

"Do you really think I could do it if I try only once more?" Solara questioned her mother.

"I do," her mother said sweetly. She looked into Solara's eyes with a loving smile.

Illumani faer

~~~~~

Solara's eyes had closed moments ago and her hand had started to glow a deep blue. It was the blue of her mother's eyes. A bead of sweat formed on her brow as the color intensified and burst into a low blue flame across her skin. Without warning, her eyes snapped open with a fierce blue hue that almost seemed to glow from her face. The fire on her hand solidified and began to glisten like water. It had frozen to a glove of ice. The color in her eyes instantly vanished and she fell forward, gasping for air. Her hand hit the table, and the ice shattered into small pieces across the surface.

Her mother's smile filled her thoughts as she tried to catch her breath.

Jarreth was stunned again. This was becoming all too common of an occurance for the knight while he was with Solara.

"Simply amazing," he congratulated.

Jarreth walked back to the table and tried to pick up one of the slivers of ice that remained on the table. As he brought it into his hand, he was forced to drop it. It was colder than any snow or sleet that he had ever encountered. He looked more closely at the table to see that it too had frozen beneath the small pieces of ice. He almost rolled his eyes as he thought, "mages." He moved his way past the litter of ice and knelt down by Solara. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he mumbled quielty. A white glow formed between his palm and Solara's skin. It was a minor attempt at restoring some of her energy, but he hoped it would help her breathing. He had enough experience with the exhaustion of spells that he felt it was time to step in.

While he was next to her, he continued, "You've done it, Solara. You have done more than I could have hoped. I am very proud of you."

The white light between them faded. He could not be sure yet, but her chest seemed to be moving more naturally. She was not heaving in breath after breath. She was strong. Jarreth smiled at her, though he was not sure that she could see his face. He shifted his weight and started to stand up.

Solara had a hard time differentiating Jarreth's voice from the ringing that filled her ears. She was unaware of his movements toward her. Instead, she was completely consumed by the darkness that seemed to cloud her mind. She did not feel frightened, nor cold, nor detached from herself. It was simply the shadow of something else that lurked between her thoughts.

"You have done it," came a faint voice from the back of her head. It was not Jarreth. It was her mother. Back toward the far reaches of her memories, her mother's voice rang out to her. She had not heard that voice so clearly in many years. It was not Solara's own recollections that created this voice; there was a distinct echo of magic.

"My child, you have finally tapped into the power that I tried so hard to bring forward," the voice continued. Slowly, the figure of Solara's mother appeared behind her eyes. "I am so proud of you, though I only wished that I could have been with you long enough to train your gift."

"Mom?" Solara heard herself cry inside of her own thoughts.

"Hush child," the figure said soothingly. Solara felt herself become more at ease. "You have my power pulsing through your veins. I leave you to tap this power as your own, build upon it, and ready yourself for what I must ask of you."

"What do you mean, mother?" came a confused reply.

"That is for another day, when you are ready. Seek out the Goddess of Fire," the echo in her head instructed. "She will provide the key to your potential. After those doors are open, your own path will unfold before you. You must then choose to walk that path. It is then that I can tell you more."

"But mother, do not leave me again! I have waited so long and tried so hard to make you proud," Solara pleaded. She could hear herself cry in her head.

"Silly Solara, I have been and will always be with you. I know how hard you have tried, and I want you to know that you have always made me proud," the form said with a smile as it faded back into her mind.

"Mother!" Solara screamed inside of her head.

She mumbled it as she regained herself in the physical world. Her breathing had slowed to normal and the ringing had subsided to a dull tone. Jarreth's spell had worked, even if she did not know it. As she began to realize what she had done and what had happened, she noticed Jarreth to her side. She felt him moving to get up. He would not have the chance.

Solara used what she had of her energy to turn and wrap her arms around Jarreth in a tight hug. She buried her head into his neck and trapped him. She began to cry.

"Thank you so much!"

Jarreth was not prepared for Solara's outburst and almost toppled to the floor when she collided with him. He sometimes forgot how easy he was to move when he was not covered in his plate armor. More often he forgot now nice it felt to be hugged. He had never been close to anyone, especially since he left his home far to the north. Even there, it was rare for him to share any type of friendly embrace beyond a handshake or slap on the back. He never had felt any particular urge to join in these activities. A soul ripped away from immortal love lost these basic impulses, perhaps as a memorial to the past. Jarreth had never considered it.

He knew that Solara had no intention of letting go immediately. He shifted to regain his balance and stand properly. Still, she was hugging him. Almost unsure of what to do, he reluctantly put his hand on the back of her head in an awkward embrace.

"You are welcome, Solara. Please don't cry," he requested. He hated when women cried. He did not know how to handle it.

She squeezed tighter every time Jarreth tried to move. Regardless of her efforts, Jarreth did manage to stand after a few moments. Solara was small and weak compared to the muscular knight that she was now holding to for dear life. Her tears burned like small fires as they crawled away from her eyes. Although Jarreth had asked politely, she could not stop crying so easily. Instead of fulfilling his request, she let go of her grip and moved back from her new friend.

"I'm sorry," she said among tears, "but these are not tears of sadness. I am just overwhelmed."

Solara forced a smile even though the muscles in her mouth were not cooperating well with her emotional state. She was actually very drained even with her highly energetic demeanor. The encounter she had experienced was the opening of locked away powers. Solara remained unaware of the flood of magic that was now crawling through her body, but the wave of power was tearing through all of the magical blocks that had been in place. Should Solara had not been training as intensely as she had been, she might not have regained consciousness for more than a day. Fortunately for her, she had been unknowingly readying herself for this intense stress.

A strange word was floating in her mind. She had a hard time bringing it from her thoughts to her tongue, but when she did, she spoke it as though it had been spoken many times before.

Firzoen Grispe

Her hand was suddenly covered in a clear coat of ice. She was not cold. She was intrigued, and she stared at the new appendage intently. The lights of the room danced playfully within the crystals.

(OOC: I think I'm going to wrap this up in a few more posts, we have to get on the road to Istan for the quest!)

He still hated seeing tears running down Solara's face, but her assurance that they were not caused by pain did comfort him slightly. At the same time, he could see something behind her eyes. They seemed to be tired, exhausted. He found himself wishing he had used a stronger spell, even though he had been reluctant to heal her in the first place. Now that he understood it was magic and not divine grace that sewed wounds and refreshed the spirit, he felt it was rude to intervene without permission. Still, his estimates of her energy may have been incorrect entirely.

With a few words, Solara had duplicated the frozen glove of ice. This time, it remained solid, and she remained upright. She was so astounding. What had apparently took all of her efforts just a moment prior was now a simple task. Had Jarreth known such adept students in his combat training, he was sure he would have been replaced.

"Solara, I believe you put these other mages to shame," Jarreth said broadly. "With that, I believe I must part and bid you anon. I have far too many errands and too little time to finish before the day wanes."

(OOC: Agreed.)

Solara was barely paying attention. She was locked on the glass-like surface of the ice. It was not only the beauty that captivated her, unlike her frequent obsession with burning fire. This time it was a mixture of thoughts and emotions. She did love the gorgeous crystals that cracked and reformed as she moved her fingers, but it was an afterthought. Instead, she was thinking about the work that she had put into making this happen. Finally, she was given some spark of renewed commitment to pursuing her desire for magic. Her mother was proud of her, and now Solara knew that more of her mother was in her than she had thought. While the true extent of this fact was still obscured from her, what she did know what more than enough to go on with her practice.

What had her mother meant by "seek out the Goddess of Magic"? She had hardly heard about this being, and she had never taken the concept of deities seriously. While she would look to the sky and wonder about the nature of these gods, she did not consider it in more than a hypothetical way. Even a passing rumor that Taras was controlled by a Goddess of Blades always seemed figurative to her. Now, she was being told to seek out one of these immortal creatures. She would have to consider this later, and for a long time.

"I suppose you may leave," Solara teased, not wanting to keep Jarreth if he was busy, "but only under the condition that we meet again."

Solara sniffed to mark the official end of her crying. She managed a smile and looked at him with a newfound closeness and gratitude.

"I promise I will not cry," she added on top of her smile.

Jarreth picked up the scroll he had been toying with and placed it back on the shelf. He stirred up another small cloud of dust that had been lying in wait for him in the back corner. He blinked and shook his head, attempting to make the cloud dissipate before he breathed in again. Little did he know that he would soon be making a journey to a place where the dust was so rampant that he would be forced to breathe it like fresh air.

Jarreth stretched a bit and loosened his neck as he bowed slightly to Solara.

"On that condition then, m'lady," Jarreth said in farewell. "Until the next time."

He smiled at her and turned to walk out of the room. He took a mental stock about where he was going to sit the next morning to dig through books. The decision would have to wait for the morning. His head was not clear enough to care at that moment. He was still extremely pleased with the help that he had provided Solara, even if it was only inspiration. As a side thought, he raised his right hand and waved, just in case Solara was watching him leave.

It was time to check on Aina'Fae and a few other tasks that he had been leaving until the warmth of mid-day.

"Okay," Solara said, not attempting to hide the happiness in her voice.

Jarreth was one of the few people she could call a friend in the Academy of Magic. She could only hope that he viewed her the same way. Most people who walked the halls of the building were too absorbed in their own work to bother holding a conversation. Jarreth was different. He had helped her; he had provided the key to unlocking secrets too deep for him to understand. For that, she was grateful. Until they met again, indeed. She would remember him fondly until that time came.

Solara's smile grew larger when Jarreth waved back at her. She did not know exactly what was making her so happy. As she started to question her own mood, her thoughts were immediately taken by the revelation she had minutes prior. Her mother had spoken to her. Seek out the Goddess of Fire. Solara started to consider what it all meant as she reached to the shelf and pulled out the scroll that Jarreth had been skimming. To her amazement, she could read most of the text. She carefully went over the words, taking in the bits of advice that she could understand. All the while, the unlocked pools of magic that were loosed in her veins continued to shape and form her aura to something greater than Solara could have ever imagined.

(OOC: Thanks Jarreth! Now we can focus on getting to that quest!)