The spirit stands for a long moment simply staring at the boy, observing some lost part of the world that only he can see. Setting aside all before him, he looks past it all, watching the weaves of power in the universe pulse and quiver as it comes I contact with the still figure of the kirin. [i]'We have tried many times over the years, each one falling, each one failing. I have never tried myself, but perhaps it is my turn to test the bonds that have us tethered'[/i] he muses, letting out a soft sigh. He watches the boy stiffen slightly as he begins stalking around him. His shimmering figure catches the sunlight every so often, causing him to almost vanish from view as if the sun itself could erase his presence.

Chall remains as still as he can, exercising the age old wisdom of 'when one does not know the right path, it is best to do nothing until you know which one is right rather than risking walking down the wrong one'. He does not know what the spirit wants, if indeed that is what this thing is, and until it tells him, he has no intention of risking angering or offending it.

Luckily for Chall, the spirit harbors no ill will towards him and once he comes back around he pauses, looking deep into the kirin's eyes. Chall stares back, resisting the urge to start when at last it speaks again. “I have put something inside you to help you on your journey.” It's voice is low and sounds like the low rumble of waves crashing into shore at a distance.

Tilting his head the youth's brow furrows in confusion. “To help me. . . On my journey? You mean, tapping the lay lines?” His ears flick slightly. [i]'Why would any spirit be interested in making my man given job any easier? All the lore is the same; the spirits have long stopped caring for the ways and minds of man, turning instead to the purity of nature and those who are bound and connected to it'[/i] He blinks as the beast shaped spirit shakes his head, the thick fur around it's neck shimmering lightly.

“This journey you are on, was not set by your own hands, nor by another's. No, this path is hidden from you, and when you do find it, this task placed upon you by the will of man will look a mere stroll in the fields compared to the honor I have given you.” Chall looks on in confusion as the spirit looks around, a low note whispering out from it's lips that seems to dance on through the trees and towards the town in the distance.

[i]'What does he mean? Does he mean he's given me a job to do, but he is not going to tell me what it is. . .And I will have to abandon my duty to my lord to complete it?!'[/i] “But, sir, if I abandon what has been asked of me, my brother, he can't be-” he tires to explain but the spirit cuts him off with a sharp look.

Taking a step closer to Chall it raises it's head, looking quite intimidating despite appearing as nothing more than a large deer with many antlers and a human like face. Chall does his best not to cower, his self determination more than enough to keep him from bolting, but as it takes another step he drops his gaze respectfully. “Some things are more important than the things living creatures cling to so desperately. If this brother of yours is a good soul, he will live on, and be safe. We do not ask such things without considering your heart. I saw his place in there, it is a gentle place, but you must put him out of your mind for now. We will keep an eye on him.” His voice is harsh at first, but calms as he goes on, his heart slowly remembering how mortals feel about their families.

The boy feels a little calmer about his brother now, but as he stops and thinks further on the issue he can feel the truth of it crashinging over him like and overwhelming wave of responsibility. “We? As in, more than one spirit is asking this of me? What, what am I to do? Forgive me, I am just a youth, not someone great enough to take up the work of the spirits. Your kind, I did not even know you all still lived, I. . . .” Glancing over at the nymphs he lets out a sigh, realizing his panic is not helping anything. Much to his surprise however a sound he was not expecting suddenly comes from the spirit.

Looking up slowly he watches as the being shakes, it's laughter echoing through the trees and making the water ripple gently. The new magic passing through his system seems to shiver as well, making Chall sway on the spot, but when at last the laughter falls silent, leaving the spirit smiling wide, he manages to keep his feet and meet the taller one's merry eyes with his own confused stare. However instead of explaining it simply says softly, “You mortals. . . .” A moment later the spirit turns to leave and Chall's hand flies out, wanting to stop it. However his voice freezes in this throat, his hand falling back to his side. The nymphs laugh lightly as they move back into the depths of the pond to play, leaving Chall alone, and very confused.

After standing for a long moment, watching the spirit vanish into the foliage, the youth moves slowly over to where he left his robes and begins getting dressed. So many things run through his head, and despite the herbs his wound still throbs lightly as he pulls on the slightly worn fabric. [i]'The spirits. . .They want something from me. . . .They put something inside me, poured it through my magic and filled me to my eyeballs with this power that makes me dizzy if I move to fast or think too hard. . .They want something from me, and are protecting my brother. . . .'[/i] His hand comes up to rub at his temples as the thought once more pounds through him that he's been handed something so much bigger than he is.

“They want something from me, but it is hidden. I must discover it. . . .But they did not say I need to stop what I am doing right this second.” he whispers to the air. Looking towards town he wonders for a moment about the call the spirit had sent out. One of the lay lines is not too far out of town, he knows this, so maybe. . . He lets out another sigh. [i]'I will have to go back towards town any way. The spirits never do something for no reason, so if he directed his attention there, then I at least have to find out why. I can. . .I can keep on the task the king gave me until I find this thing the spirits want me to do, that way my brother will be safer longer. . . .I have no idea how spirits would keep him safe. . . .Even without all of this he has always been in danger. My kind are tolerated, not welcome. . .'[/i]

Chall's mind goes dark once more and as he gathers up his supplies he glares at the ground. His memories of how he and his family have been viewed and treated over the years leave him in a foul mood and as he walks away from the now revitalized pond he seems to be traveling in his own little cloud of angst. Keeping his eyes on the well beaten path beneath his feet it isn't until he hears the sound of laughter that he's drawn out of his self induced bad mood. Looking up he spots a group of young people, likely villagers, heading towards him from the direction of town. They are laughing and joking around with one another and haven't noticed Chall yet.

[i]'Oh goodie, just what I need right now'[/i] He contemplates ducking out of sight before they spot him, thus avoiding any potential conflicts, but just as this thought crosses his mind one of the males in the group spots him and points him out to his fellows. At first none of them seem to think much of it, just another person walking along, minding their own business. In order to prolong this illusion Chall ducks his head, hoping that his ears will be mistaken for unruly hair or something for as long as possible. It's easy however to recognizes when at last they realize that what's approaching is not human. That oh so familiar hush, that slightly slowed walk, all those little signs that those approaching have spotted something they're unsure of.

[i]'Yeah, yeah, I'm kirin. Now are you gonna walk by, or am I gonna hafta run?'[/i] He keeps his growl in check, despite his dour mood, but by the time they pass he's so keyed up that his tail is standing out stiff and his ears almost touching his jaw. Fortunatly, other than a bit of staring and whispering, nothing happens and Chall is able to relax. The happening actually allows the youth to relax and with a sigh he decides to go straight to the lay line instead of stopping by town. [i]'Not just yet. I want to get this out of the way, then maybe. . . .Maybe I will be relaxed enough to go into town and buy some supplies. . .'[/i] Turning slightly to the left he moves towards where he feels the pull, not noticing how the kids have stopped to watch.

Pausing he checks how far away his destination is and frowns when he notes how close to town it is. [i]'Oh great, they get to [b]watch[/b] me work my unwelcome magic in my unwelcome body. Fun'[/i] Chall knows that his bad mood is in part due to the stress of  what the spirits have laid upon him, and that he's overreacting a bit, and knows he should not always assume the worst. Unfortunately, on top of the stress and his own dark outlook on the human – kirin history of intolerance, he's beginning to feel something beneath the magic left inside of him. Something akin to a longing, but for what he can not say. Not knowing what's going on with his own body is irritating to the point of being so distracted that he doesn't even notice the youth now following him at a distance.

They don't mean any harm, however the rumors about Wren's guest, and about him passing through town earlier with the kirin, have them curious as to what the mage is up to. Most have only ever experienced hedge magic, nothing like the flashy stuff a court mage is bound to have, and as they spot the small threads of magic jumping from him to the ground when he checks for the lay line's location, they feel that the chance of seeing more magic is well worth forgoing a trip to the pond.

It doesn't take long for Chall to reach his destination, and after a few children playing in the open field he winds up in just out of town go racing off to tell their parents of the funny guy they saw pawing at the ground he decides to do this as quickly as possible. However tapping a lay line is not a fast process, and as his magic trickles off of his body, amusing the youth to no end, a young one races through town on his way to a certain hedge witch's house where a weaver lay incapacitated by some unknown force on her kitchen table.

When at last Chall his set, his weave in place, the elements giving way to his needs, he finally spots the congregation of onlookers, and notes that not all of them are as tolerant as the youth he passed earlier. In fact, he is quite sure the only reason some of them are not on him already is because of the white trails of magic wrapped around his body and dancing through the soft earth beneath his feet. [i]'They are too afraid to attack me with this obvious show of power. . . .Fools, this stuff couldn't even swat a fly. . .'[/i] He holds his feelings in check, not wanting to taint his tap, and not wanting to set off the new magic pressing into his personal magic making him feel a bit like he's not got quite enough air to breath properly.

The last thing he sees before closing his eyes to focus on what he's doing is a slightly hefty looking old woman puffing into sight. [i]'She run here as to not miss the show?'[/i] he wonders idly before relaxing into the magic, all other thought but his task falling to the wayside. After a moment he feels it once again. That little tug, that longing, but he ignores it. Another heart beat passes and the one good part of the task he was given rises to the surface and an honest smile crosses his lips. Being so close to something so powerful and letting it race through you, it's quite a feeling.

To those watching it is quite an impressive display. The faint white threads of magic thicken into dark and light blue ropes that instead of flexing gently begins whipping wildly around him, making his clothes flap, his hair toss, and even lifts him off the ground a few inches. His hands are held low, fingers spread, palms level with the ground, the ropes of magic coming off the tips and  lancing into the ground. The magic is very natural magic, a magic that would be much harder for any human and near impossible for most. 

Taking in everything he can, every bit of information that he can, he slowly begins breaking the connection. Then something goes wrong. Instead of the normal slow easing out of the connection, it seems to just stop, a loud crack sounding through the area. Chall screams, the suddenness of it sending showers of pain through him, not to mention the shock of falling hard to the ground and being so far into the magic that he can't even catch himself when he falls all the way down into a crumpled heap. His eyes are still closed as he tries to cope with the pain wracking his system so he doesn't notice a bolt of magic shooting off, the blue green shimmer effectively parting the crowd and racing through town until it reaches it's target. Wren.