slavecrowned | empatheias: mailbox

If they do, I would very much like to meet them. I don't wish for anyone to be whisked away here, either, but if any of my friends from my world were to turn up, I know they would be just as fond of you as I am.

[Perhaps even moreso, in some cases— Terra immediately thinks of Edgar, and if he ever turns up, she'll have to warn Y'shtola against his advances. Then again, maybe it would be the other way around... Y'shtola is certainly a force of nature in her own right, perhaps even enough so to keep the likes of Edgar Figaro at bay.]

Knowing there are still battles ahead for the both of us... that gives me more hope than I had before, though it feels strange to say so.

The comfort of a certain future, even a certainly fraught one, far outweighs not knowing what will befall you at all, I expect.

[Gods know such considerations have helped Y'shtola keep a level head all these moons. If nothing else, she hopes it lifts Terra a bit out of her despondent spirits.]

While my mind is on our friends, I've wondered for days how you managed to move Arthur from where he fell to his lodgings unassisted.

[Clover was probably there, but the faerie isn't exactly constructed for heavy lifting.]

[Terra nods in agreement— Y'shtola says it just right, as she always does. Though the future may hold any number of challenges both for them and those they hold dear, knowing that there is a future at all gives her reason to hope— something it had been steadily growing more and more difficult to do the more time she had to wonder.

The query that follows is unexpected, but it's met with a sheepish sort of smile. Though Arthur remains unaware of how exactly Terra had managed it, she has a feeling that Y'shtola might already have guessed, given what she had seen in Brinndosi.]

I used my Esper form. It used up much of the magic I had at the time, but it was the only way I could move him quickly enough. I'm a bit stronger in that form, on top of being able to fly— though I made Clover promise not to tell him.

[She recalls how nervous Terra was about revealing that piece of herself to Y'shtola, as well. That was rather less of an emergency. That she was strong enough not only to lift him, but to carry him a distance too, is quite interesting indeed.]

When you refer to "using up" your magic, what do you mean, exactly? What would happen in the event of overuse, if that is possible for you at all?

Nothing terrible— it doesn't hurt me, if that's what you're asking.

[She never minds when Y'shtola asks questions about her or where she comes from, however, very much appreciating her friend's inquisitive mind and desire to learn. More people, she thinks, would do well to be as thoughtful and curious as Y'shtola.]

I tire, mostly. If I were to run out while in that form, I would revert and be unable to use any of the abilities linked to it, so it's fortunate that I didn't wear out before getting him to where he needed to be. Otherwise, using up magic just means exhausting it for a time... sleep is usually enough to bring it back, but there are tinctures that can restore a very small bit of it back home if there's no time to rest.

[She asks in part because she wishes to compare it to similar occurrences with aether, and because knowing Terra's limits as she knows them herself can only be beneficial to all of them.]

I see. We have similar concoctions in my world, though I lack them here and have not the knowledge to reproduce them.

[There are a few potions of varying sorts left behind in the clinic - and she locked them away and hid the key, for the most part. They are useful and nigh irreplaceable so she has them for emergencies only. Naturally this means she has at least two in various belt pouches always.]

An exhaustive drain of one's aether, which is the driving force behind the magicks of Hydaelyn, could incapacitate a person for many days, if not kill them outright from the strain. That this seems to be less of a worry for you and your kind is a blessing indeed.

Kill them?

[It seems a bit extreme to her, and her eyes widen just the slightest bit. Well... she supposes that's what happened to all the other Espers, as well. Exhausting themselves was one thing, but what the Empire had done...

It wasn't so different, was it?

She shakes her head, just once.]

I don't think that expending magic on my own could do that, but it is possible, if someone's magic is taken from them. They get... used up, until there's nothing left of them. Only the Empire ever managed that.

[She doesn't mean to bring up painful memories, and perhaps she should just lay these aside. If she can continue to frame it as simply a discussion of differing magicks...]

We endeavor not to have this happen to anyone, of course. The various magical disciplines studied in Eorzea place great emphasis upon drawing in and using the ambient aether of the world, rather than risk the drain upon your own.

[One ear turns aside a bit, and her hands still around her teacup.]

The Empire we face eschews reliance upon manipulation of aether, chiefly because they are themselves incapable of utilizing it. Instead they progress in the use of nonmagical technology.

[There's a certain degree of apathy when Terra discusses these things; they sadden her, surely, but these experiences are so much a part of who she is and so vital to her learning to embrace her other self that she can't simply pretend they never happened. Rather, it's better to let those memories strengthen her resolve— as Y'shtola said, her past will define her always, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.

She nods slowly, considering.]

And that's what your world calls 'magitek,' right?

[Another parallel.]

I wonder if the Empire is jealous of those who can use that aether...

Quite possibly, though they do not present themselves to the rest of the world as such. Rather they comport themselves as superior, in that they have surpassed the necessary dependence upon aether they claim to believe hobbles our progress. Their advances in technology independent of aether use are unmatched in that regard, as I mentioned, and I take no pleasure in the compliment, nor do I make it lightly.

[Though she buries it deep and it has no place in this world, the Garlean Empire and her emissaries and machinations have taken much from Y'shtola, and she senses they shall continue their assault upon that which she holds most dear. It would not be too much hyperbole to suggest she hates them.]

[So many similarities, and yet the differences between Eorzea's Empire and her own are so critical that it's hard to believe two such powers could cause such destruction in so similar a way, motivated by differing beliefs.]

Yours is a world that thrives on magic, practically breathes aether itself, while magic is thought to be dead by most in my own.

[Her brow furrows slightly.]

There are so many parallels between the two, and yet in other ways, our worlds are complete opposites— people in your world fear primals, while the Espers in my own fear humans.

empatheias: mailbox

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