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Mel shuffled closer to the dimming fire, scrutinizing the diagram of the wand, and plucking the tiny envelope stuck to the pages. There was a warm feeling to it that left the fingers tingling. Resisting the urge to toss it in the fire immediately to see its effects she grabbed the enchanted twig she had made the night prior, whispered Arx into existence and set to work carving.
Fifteen minutes and dangerously close to frostbite later she tossed the melting spearhead aside and compared her work to the diagram in the book. She winced, well, she could tell they were supposed to be the same anyway. Mel glanced around to find someone to ask for luck. Arx bobbed on her arm. The skeleton remained impassive.
“Need to give you a name.” Mel muttered “Good luck me.”
She tossed the sachet into the flame. There was a long pause as the paper crackled in the flame, breath caught in her throat. Then the flames flared purple for a moment and a thick layer of smoke billowed out. She exhaled. Now, how was she supposed to actually control something? She picked up a rock from the ground and gave it a toss through the smoke.
It caught like a net, the rock spinning gently in the smoke of the fire, and somehow also spinning gentle in her awareness. She pushed down on the rock in her mind and the rock above the fire bobbed down with it.
“Oh wow, this is…”
She held out a finger and traced a circle, the rock following the movement. She traced the rock through the air, bobbing and weaving until one of its larger arcs took it out of the smoke, sending it tumbling lifelessly to the ground. Right, that was what the wand was for, leaving the confines of the fire. She held the instrument out over the flames, wincing as the heat bathed over her. Smoke billowed into the carvings, held in place by the magic she had put into it the night before. She held it in place until the heat drove her back, stumbling and coughing out smoke.
Away from the flames she looked at the wand. The smoke had filled the carvings, but clung to the wand itself. She pointed away from herself, felt the presence of it in her mind like the rock before, and nudged it out. A wispy smoke spirit detached from the carving and swam leisurely through the air before scooping up the rock. She directed it in circles around her, into the air, through the flame, up the wall of the tomb. It could only get a few arms lengths away from the wand before the connection sputtered and the rock fell, and the speed left something to be desired.
