DRAGOMIR

He lets the pegasus answer the equine’s question for him; her presence won’t effect the outcome of the piece so long as she stays quiet and doesn’t bother him while he works, and if Parelia trusts her not to ruin her trinkets, then Dragomir will as well. His nod mirrors the agreement given by the effervescent, winged mare, and as he settles into the smell of their pregnant bodies and the spring warmth and slowly draws on his will, he almost feels at peace despite Parelia’s strangeness and his usual nerves that arise when dealing with acquaintances.

And then the work begins, and they become a background color to the fantastic glimmering of the glass as it comes to life, feeling his breath escape him hot and relieved as he steps away and the mare flexes her appendage of flight. With a bit of reservation knitted into his throat, he looks on the display with the hope that all will go well, his relieved smile blooming when she exclaims that he has done a wonderful job in fitting them over the joint. She offers to turn for him to continue working, and after a short pause, he nods in agreement. "That works," he says, "just let me get the pattern on this one first and then we can rotate around to do the other one if we’re to do it that way." Nodding again before he turns down to his gourd, he pulls out a large chunk of turquoise and holds it against his tongue as he looks at the band, imagining the bend of flames along its curvature and a band on its outer edge, where he will bubble up the glass to take the color of the stone in his mouth.

Holding it fast to a position on the band, he takes a deep breath and focuses his will once more. The stone as well as the glass begins to sparkle, and he wonders if it is hot or feels like nothing against Parelia’s skin for but a second before the magic consumes his focus and his thoughts; moving the chunk of turquoise along the band and down to the bottom once the top is complete, all the facets of the stone are soon in place, leaving him with the etched, rune-like fire he sees in his mind. The surface of the band glitters and burns with starlight, cooling into its smooth, teal state with new etchings to add to their prettiness, and his pent up will escapes him the form of a sigh and the flickering of his pale blue eyes into openness.

"You may turn now," he says, his deep voice showing the first signs of the weariness that sweeps through him from the use of his magic, though he still has quite a bit more work in him for the day and is eager to see it complete.


@[Brisa]

CrafteR

world's edge