Basic Thaumaturgy for the Emotionally Incompetent

The runes illuminated.

As if they’d inhaled the moment, a reverberation rippled underneath his fingertips. There had been few moments in life where he’d felt such a strong aetheric presence; strong enough to leap up his arm and clamp into his shoulder like a bite from a feral cat.

He sucked in a breath. With Hemovision on, the lines looked alien up close. They were jerky, skidding, and almost panicked. Lines convulsed in place, darting so fast they blurred like wind-tossed threads. He had to rub his eyes twice before they resolved at all.

It took him another two seconds for the pattern to show up. Shapes began to separate from the chaos into four . . . maybe five (?) distinct ones. One of them looked like a rune but sat dead in the flow, refusing to move with the rest, causing the others to move around them.

Severa’s voice cracked across the air. “What do you see?”

“I’m—I’m still figuring it out!”

“Well, figure it out faster!” She said as another blazing sound, like a fireball striking into flesh, erupted.

He gulped.