Fire and Ice (Ravvus/Open)

[Minerva]

Minerva smiled, reclining in her chair. It was a beautiful spring day in Ilia, and the flowers were blooming in the meadows surrounding Veronia, a valley city near Edessa. The birds were chirping, and the sun was shining. Although it was still brisk, (what can you expect from Ilia?) Minerva's heavy robe kept her warm, as did the hot drink she held in her right hand.

It was truly a nice day. The outdoor porch of the restaurant and tavern she was resting at was one of her favorite haunts; she was on vacation from banditry, dark deeds, and crime. Here, in her homeland, she was still a noble pup, and she enjoyed the status, even if she was an illegitimate child. After all, her parents had no others.

But enough of that train of thought.

Minerva took another draught of the Volcanon - her favorite drink. It was fiery and easily ignited - perfect for her personality.

"Waiter - bring me a salad, please."

As the man bowed and moved off, Minerva let her gaze wander over the empty chairs around her table and the few people in the restaurant. It was, after all, the afternoon - an odd time for drinks or dinner.

With a snap of her fingers, Minerva sent sparks flaming onto one of the table's two candles, lighting it. It was a bit boring without anyone to converse with, but, all in all, a break was always nice. Especially after all of the craziness that had been going on. A break was very nice.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus' fingers reached underneath his leather armor. The digits slid around and over the wounds on his shoulder. It had been a week, maybe more, since he'd had that run-in with the undead. It wasn't one of the revenants, but rather a mouthe doog which had gotten to him. Sunk it's poisonous teeth into him while he was distracted. The vulnerary he'd applied had closed up the wound, but the poison had been tougher to deal with. He was fortunate to have survived the encounter. Funny. That was the second time, in a long time, that Ravvus had received a nasty wound. The latest one, before the bite, was that bruise Duma planted on his arm. That one lasted a week. It too had been a week since Ravvus had received the bite wound, but it looked like this one might leave a scare. Ravvus frowned. He didn't like that idea. He wondered if these wounds were a result of carelessness. At least one of them, the bite, had been. The bruise however, had happened because he'd been fighting a more skilled opponent. Perhaps that was a form of carelessness in its own right. Challenging someone you know is stronger than you isn't considered prudent by most. Ravvus shook his head. Whatever. At the end of the day it was all semantics. Carelessness or not, Ravvus liked fighting. He just didn't know if he liked it enough to destroy his body in the pursuit of battle. Well.. no. Ravvus knew he liked fighting that much. He just wasn't too keen on accruing any more scars.

Yeah, that was it.

The mage turned back to the meal before him, his thoughts having proved to be a distraction. There was something especially satisfying about eating a warm, cooked meal in Ilia. A warm meal was always welcome, especially on an empty stomach. But eating hot food in cold weather made it all the more enjoyable. The feelings of heat in one's belly, of being full of food and warmth, juxtaposed with the icy winds was truly unique. Ravvus was almost disappointed not to be experiencing that sensation. Ilian springs made travel easier, for sure, but they also took away from that special experience of eating.

The blond man found himself in Veronia, whilst en route to Edessa. He had important business to attend to there. He'd already killed a lot of time with his detour into Skaven, so he wanted to reach the headquarters of the Pale Compass as fast as possible. Ravvus mused about the contrast between the calm, spring meadows of Veronia and the constricting streets of Skaven. Skaven by itself didn't seem like a bad place to live but, couple it with the undead and Ilia's harsh cold, it was a true terror.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ravvus saw a candle suddenly ignite to life. His head jerked in it's direction. Strange. When did that happen? How did that happen? There was a woman sitting at the table, but she had no means to ignite the candle. The waiters would have had no reason to light them either. How odd. He wondered. The mage observed the woman more carefully, spying for a tome, or at least something out of the ordinary. All that he could see was that her arm was perched just so. It was like she'd just flicked her wrist and set the candle aflame. The mage wondered. Reaching into his travel satchel, he pulled his trusty fire tome and propped it open slightly. Glancing at the page, he muttered a few words. In an instant, a bolt of flame appeared and lingered above the other candle on the table. The flame vanished as quickly as it had been summoned. He surmised that if the woman had ignited the other flame, then this would get her attention.

--

[Edited due to misreading.]

[Minerva]

As Minerva relaxed, she suddenly saw a small bolt of flame appear, as if it were a message. A signal. A sign.

A smile slowly spread over her face. Actually, it was more of a small smirk - someone was playing her game with her. How cheeky. It had been a while since she’d had fun. So the blunette mage let her gaze wander - deliberately and slowly - until it came to rest on a man who sat looking in her general direction. There was nothing unusual that stuck out about him, but as Minerva looked more closely, she could see what looked to be suspiciously like a fire tome.

"If you’d like… You can join me."

The man was attractive - his blond hair and blue eyes were well-suited for his fair skin. And while his build was on the lighter side, Minerva didn’t begrudge him it - after all, he was a user of magic. And that more than made up for any small faults. Although Minerva wasn’t a huge fan of orange, she appreciated the way it suited him. Clearly, he was one who cared about his appearance and carried himself accordingly. Minerva was interested - a fellow mage was always a nice opportunity for collaboration, competition, and a lot of friendly banter.

This man had kindled some interest in her, and Minerva flagged the waiter again.

"Please, bring him a Volcanon as well. Put it on my tab, of course."

The waiter nodded, moving away, and Minerva waited to see if the mysterious man would accept her invitation. In a show of goodwill, she took her fire tome out of the purse-like bag she carried and set it on the table, so he could see it.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”You could join me.” A simple invitation, but the inflection in the woman's voice was alluring. While he had little experience in the arts of romance and even flirtation, the mage was not one to pass up an invitation from such an intriguing woman. And he had, after all, made the first advance. Ravvus rose from his table, taking his belongings, and went to join the blue-haired woman. She bore a slight smile, a coy thing really. It gave her a look of mild amusement and interest. She was a fair-faced woman and had a pale complexion. She was average of height and had a slim figure. It was easy enough for Ravvus to guess that she was an Ilian. The pale skin and the blue hair were a dead giveaway.

As the blond man approached the table, he noticed the blue-haired woman pull out her own tome of fire. Ah, so she had been hiding it in her purse. Ravvus smiled in response, and set his tome down on the table before taking a seat. ”That trick with the candle was impressive. I doubt anyone who hadn't been watching would think that it was lit by one of the staff. How long have you been practicing with the book?” The mage didn't quite know what he thought of the woman yet. She was attractive, sure, that is Ravvus thought she was attractive, but the mage got this feeling that her beauty belied her other talents. If nothing else, the woman was adept with fire magic. Ravvus blushed, realizing that he hadn't introduced himself. “Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't given you my name, have I? Ravvus. Ravvus Wiseau.” He spoke, his voice quivered with just a tinge of embarrassment. ”And you are?”

[Minerva]

The man got up, moving confidently and suavely to her table, with the grace and poise of a born gentleman. How interesting, to find one that seemed to be such a charmer - here in Veronia. Sh thought she knew everyone in this old haunt of hers... But this was a pleasant surprise.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the compliment - but I must say yours was quite the impressive follow-up. I hadn't even considered another observer here. I am quite pleased to have someone intelligent - and easy on the eyes, might I add - to converse with. It is quite dull otherwise."

Minerva smiled as the man blushed. She hadn't noticed either, so excited was she about the prospect of another mage with whom to converse.

"Don't worry about it... Ravvus. My name is Minerva. It is a pleasure to meet you. Honestly... You strike me as a very interesting person. I am glad our paths crossed."

Minerva's brow furrowed slightly as she thought about his question. When had she started? She began training as a Pegasus Knight at thirteen, but she switched to magic after only a few months... Wow, it had been a while.

"Seven years ago, I believe. I began my studies early, at around thirteen and a half. I actually tried to become a Pegasus Knight earlier, but the way of the lance just didn't suit me. I'm glad I found magic, though, as it is my true calling.

How about you? How long have you been practicing magic? You seem similarly skilled, Ravvus."

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Easy on the eyes. Ravvus smiled a bit bashfully at the compliment, enjoying the flirtatious stroke of his ego. The woman had no qualms about making her opinions known. Ravvus liked that. He appreciated forwardness in women. It made him feel more at ease with his own attractions. ”Hmm.” He chuckled in response. ”I'm not the only one here who's easy on the eyes.” The blond mage spoke, returning her compliment.

The woman caught his interest. While she'd considered his follow-up to her magic trick 'impressive', Ravvus still thought she was the more curious of the two mages. What really caught his attention was the fact that she hadn't been reading from her book when she cast her spell, at least it didn't look like she had. The blond mage wanted to know how she pulled that off.

Ravvus' eyes widened as the women spoke. She'd gotten an early start in her studies, about as early as he had. He wasn't too surprised to learn that she tried her hand at the pegasus initially. That was the first choice for most Ilian women who wanted to see combat, and Ravvus was still under the impression that Minerva was an Ilian. Ravvus smiled again as Minerva prodded him with questions, expressing her interest in having met him. He was enjoying the attention. ”You flatter me.” He said, responding to her observations. ”I think I started around that age too. Lets see... how old was I when I picked up anima.” The mage exhaled and sifted through his thoughts. ”Twelve, I believe.”Wow, it had been a long time, ”Yes, twelve. My sister introduced me to it, actually. She didn't have a talent for it, but I picked it up fairly quickly. Studied under a sage in Etruria for the next four years.”

The blond man looked at the candles and then at Minerva's fire tome. He folded his hands together and placed them on the table. ”I'm curious. Did you light that first candle without using your book?”

[Minerva]

"Heh..."

Minerva blushed slightly at the compliment, giving a slight chuckle and smiling at the man. He was certainly not a stereotypical bookish man who was afraid of the fairer sex. Minerva appreciated his easy confidence and his welcoming persona. It was a nice, refreshing change of pace from the many uncultured, one-track-mind buffoons she often had to deal with.

"Interesting. My studies were all conducted here, in Ilia... I am the daughter of minor nobility, so I had the means to pursue magical education with a sage here, closer to home. It was in good and bad, in its own ways. And then I left."

When Ravvus commented on her lighting of the candles, Minerva smiled. It was an odd habit of hers, not to consult her tome. But she had a strange gift that made it not simply doable but also much more practical. She did not discuss it often, but she would be happy to speak of it with him. He did not make her feel nervous disclosing the information.

"Yes, Ravvus. I did not consult my tome when I casted. You see, I have a strange memory. I am able to recall pictures of things I have seen or read. It's easier and clearer with faces or pages of writing, since I can see them multiple times. But once I look at a page for a while, or see a face a few times, I never forget it. So once I studied my whole tome a few times, I was able to recall any specific verse I needed without having to look it up. It makes casting in battle a lot faster and more spontaneous, as well.

Is that strange?"

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus looked on, a bit awestruck, as Minerva spoke. The mage had seen many sages perform exceptional feats with their magical books, but none so practical as Minerva's. It wasn't that he had never thought of trying Minerva's trick, he'd simply never been able to do so. When he first started practicing the book, Ravvus had tried memorizing and casting a few spells but such experiments had always met with failure. The blond man wondered if the woman simply had an exceptional connection to the spirits of anima, or at least one with the element of fire. The mage might have been a little more star struck than he should have been. Minerva's talents, while impressive, were hardly the work of a great sage. Perhaps it was a mixture of infatuation and admiration which made him respect her abilities so.

The woman let out an interesting bit of information as she spoke. She was a fighter as well. That was good. Ravvus enjoyed the fact that she was not just a scholarly mage, but took to the field too. It retrospect, it made sense that the woman had developed the talent of 'casting without consulting', as she had so aptly put. Constantly looking back and forth between one's book and one's foe tended to make fighting with magic just that much more tedious and dangerous.

”No, no. Not strange at all.” He said, somewhat in a thoughtful daze. ”It's impressive really, I didn't know that that was possible. And as you so accurately put it, that makes fighting with magic that much easier.” Veronia didn't seem like the type of place which saw a lot of combat. Sure, their must have been the occasional ex-mercenary brigands which plagued Ilia, but for the most part it seemed like a peaceful place. Ravvus began to suspect that Minerva was an adventurer as well. The mage propped his book back open, flipping through the pages. He looked at the candles of an adjacent table and then back to Minerva. ”Could you do it again? Light the candles without reading from your book?” He smiled. Ravvus drummed his fingers against the pages of his own fire tome. ”If its any incentive, I could join you.”

[Minerva]

"It's nothing game-changing. In all actuality, it's pretty mundane... I'm just good at remembering what things look like. As for casting the spells themselves, I feel like once I understand how the rhythm and the sound of the spell go, I can even internalize it. Often times, I cast without speaking.

I had a teacher who was a sage of some renown. He could cast without any tomes nearby, simply by thinking about what he wished to accomplish and combining some basic spells to create a chain. I'm in no way near that skilled, but I think it's something to strive for. For example, I can cast a ball of flame that explodes when I loosen my control over it - but he could cast a ball of flame that moved in a direction almost at will."

Minerva looked at the man as he opened his book, his fingers deftly moving the pages almost as if they were disconnected with the man who owned them, so fluidly and organically did they work.

As he asked his question, Minerva gave a slight flush. It wasn't that she was unused to attention, or more specifically, attention from attractive males - it was just that she couldn't grasp why her casting was so interesting to this fellow. But if it would help solidify the bonds of friendship, lighting a candle was a mighty small price to pay.

Giving the man a small, cheeky smile, Minerva focused her mind on the spell she'd used before. A simple, small burst of flame.

Snap.

The candle on the nearby table suddenly flickered into life as a grape-sized burst of blue flame popped into and out of existence over its wick, like a miniature firework.

"And there it is... Nothing very complicated. You could probably do it without a second thought, Ravvus. You've got experience, and confidence, from your looks. Why not try?"

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Game-changing. Rhythm and sound. These words stuck out to Ravvus. Minerva went on to say how her old teacher had been able to do what she could, but on a greater scale. The mage was beginning to feel as if spell weaving without speaking was a common art form. One which he alone was unfamiliar with. That would be a very embarrassing thing to learn. Fortunately, the rest of what Minerva said was information he was already familiar with. Ravvus was glad for that. He didn't want this woman to outdo him in every magical area.

”Ah, now that's something I can do!” Ravvus began, referring to Minerva's old teacher. ”Well, I cannot control the direction and speed of my fireballs at will, but I do have some modicum of control over them. I can adjust the flight path of my fireballs, but only slightly. It's like trying to bend metal, you see. It takes a lot of effort, and I can only adjust the direction so much before the spell dissipates.”

Ravvus observed intently as Minerva focused, raised her arm, and snapped her fingers. The candle on the nearby table burst into a blue flame. That was right. Ravvus looked back at the candles on their table. He noticed the contrast between the fires. While his was an amber orange, her's was a sapphire blue. Minerva's fires burned through the wax quickly, while his moved at a slower rate. Minerva's fire was blue and intense, while his was orange and subdued. That was a another new one for him. Ravvus had been so concerned with her other talent that he'd neglected to inquire about it.

Then she turned to him, encouraging a follow up act. Ravvus wondered if he could actually mimic the female mage's ability. She made a point. He did have familiarity and comfort with his tome. If the act was truly as simple as she claimed it to be, then it wouldn't be too hard. While Ravvus had failed to cast without consulting in his youth, he was more experienced now. It was worth a shot. Ravvus flipped to the beginning of his magical tome, to one of the more elementary spells. Spark, the page title read, underlined and in bold. It was a simple spell, one which was little more than an annoyance in battle. It was useful for getting a fire going, but not much more. The blond man's eyes glided over the page. Ravvus mouthed each incantation, crafting a place for each in his mind. He studied the page for about a minute, rehearsed its words, and raised his arm. ”Like this?” He asked Minerva. The words echoed in Ravvus' head one last time. The mage snapped his fingers.

Nothing.

Frowning, Ravvus turned back to his book and rehearsed the spell again. He glanced at Minerva and then back at the candle. Returning to his former position, he raised his arm and snapped his fingers. Still nothing. It was no good. ”Maybe if I clap my hands instead...?” He started. No, that wasn't it. It was the words. Ravvus simply couldn't commit the incantations to memory in such a short amount of time. Confound it. One would think he'd be more familiar with a fire tome since he'd been using one for the past eight years. Disappointed, Ravvus reclined in his chair. He hadn't entirely anticipated being able to mimic Minerva's talent, but he would have enjoyed being able to do so. If only he knew the words better.

And then a thought occurred to the mage. He might not have known the exact words for the spark spell in his fire tome, but there was another book he had. One which he'd read a thousand times over for the sake of sentimentality. Ravvus closed his fire tome and reached into his travel satchel. From it, he pulled his sister's old, introductory anima book. The tune of Elfire and Fimbulvetr: An introductory manual to anima magic, it read in gold letters on the front. Some of the color had faded, or been chipped away by time. The book reflected it's age. Parts of its pages were torn and worn, and the books spine appeared bent in a few areas. Flipping through the book, Ravvus found a page with a spell similar to Spark. The books' knowledge swirled around him. The mage bathed in a sea of words as he gazed upon the page. Ravvus smiled and raised his fingers again. The words for this spell were as clear as day in his mind.

But with a snap of his digits, nothing happened. Confused and embarrassed, Ravvus assessed the page before him. He knew its words, so why didn't it work? And then he realized that he hadn't been focusing. He hadn't charged the spell with any emotional intensity. He wasn't entirely sure if that was what it needed, if that was what he needed. But it was all worth trying. Ravvus racked his mind for a memory which would give him the brief intensity he needed. He glanced at Minerva, wondering if what he needed was a passionate memory. No, while it could be brief and intense, Ravvus needed something briefer. He thought of Reina and wondered if what he needed was a memory of protecting her. No, that was not brief enough either. And then it occurred to him. What about punching someone in the face? That was brief. It was but a second. And it was certainly something he enjoyed. Something which carried a charge and intensity with it. Ravvus found a memory of back when he'd first moved to Etruria. When he had punched a stupid Etrurian boy in the face. He remembered how good it felt to overpower him. The blond man focused, snapped his fingers, and let the memory go.

On the other table, the second candle wick caught fire. It was a small, tiny flame. Minerva's fire dwarfed it by comparison. A light breeze could snuff it out. But it was there. ”Well how about that?” He said, smiling at Minerva.

[Minerva]

"Huh. I haven't had much luck with directing them in flight yet. I like your analogy, though. Perhaps I need to focus more... For me, fireballs are a bit like arrows - easy to aim, but impossible to move in flight. But I'll have to give that some thought and practice. That's got to be a helpful skill."

So Ravvus was good, as she expected. That made her even more eager to see all of what he could do. She had a strange thought - what if they sparred each other, as mages? What an interesting contest that would be. She needed training against mages.

But anyway! Ravvus snapped his fingers, and Minerva's gaze shot to the candle, where the wick stayed perfectly still and no flame appeared.

"Maybe if I clap my hands instead?"

Minerva shook her head - what the action was shouldn't matter to the cast. She could stick her tongue out and cast, for all anyone cared - as long as the energy and the thought was behind the spell, it would work.

Suddenly, the man pulled out an old book, smiled, and tried again. For a second time, there was no response from the candle. As she was about to suggest practicing and not putting too much pressure on himself to succeed on the first few attempts, there was a sharp click of snapping fingers and her eyes were drawn, now by habit, to the candle, which burst into flame. It was a small flame, brilliant orange and crackling with vitality, while hers was a cold blue, unwavering and still.

"Well. That was an impressive performance, actually... To pick up the skill so quickly indicates great focus and skill. You seem to be quite the talented mage.

Hey, did you notice the difference between our flames? I only saw it just now, a bit by accident, really - I haven't spent much time with other mages, and certainly not in peaceful and tranquil situations like this.

But to get back to the matter at hand, your flame and mine have different colors, behaviors, and, by the look of the candles, heats. It's interesting. I saw you examining them before, so I figured I'd bring it up. It's intriguing to me."

The blunette mage smiled back at Ravvus, her eyes twinkling as she posed one more question, raising her eyebrow and smirking slightly.

"I wouldn't suppose you would like to... Train together later? I've never been able to have a good fight against another mage, and judging by your skill, you'd give me an exciting match."

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Minerva had an interesting approach to casting fireballs. The mage examined the differences in both their respective philosophies and fires. Where Minerva saw her fireballs as projectiles, missiles to be fired, Ravvus saw them as an extension of himself. Each fireball he created was vibrant, full of life, and ever-changing. The heat and intensity of his fires reflected one of two things. His emotional state or his focus. Coolness, confidence, and understanding were one way to control fire. It was what most people did. It was the safe way to control and direct fire. The other, more dangerous, option was to fuel one's fire with one's own passion. Fireballs of that variety tended to be a little more unstable. But such an approach put less restrictions on the spell. It allowed for the fire to embrace its nature as a fickle and inconsistent substance. Ravvus wondered if some combination of those two approaches allowed for master level fire manipulation. Perhaps that was how Minerva's old teacher had been able to move and summon fireballs at will.

Ravvus didn't really respond to Minerva's words of praise. He enjoyed the flattery, he just didn't know how to accept it without coming off as pompous. He'd gone back to starring at the two candles when he heard Minerva speak again.”Our fires? Yes, they're quite different aren't they?” He examined the contrast between the two. How they flickered and danced separately, but still interacted with each other. They each imbued the other with a tinge of their respective color. The blue fire burned through the candle wax as the other orange fire watched. It was like Minerva's candle was beckoning to his, encouraging it, to catch up.”I think I like the contrast the two make.” Ravvus noticed that Minerva's fire was similar in shade to her hair. He liked that too.

The blue-haired woman gave him a curious look. She cocked one of her eyebrows and Ravvus could see a glimmer in her eyes. She had a very coquettish look about her. She began to speak, keeping up her playful facade. Ravvus blushed, as she came to a pause, having picked up on the obvious allusion in her behavior. If the woman had been trying to get a reaction out of him, she'd gotten it. Still somewhat flustered, the mage began to speak. ”Uh... yes. Yeah, I think that's a great idea.” It was amusing to see Ravvus stammer at the offer of a battle, something very close to his heart. The blond man paused for a moment, a thought having occurred. ”Actually.” Ravvus started to rise from his seat. ”I'd like to show you something. Would you accompany me?” He reached out, offering his right hand.

[Minerva]

"The contrast is nice. Contrast really brings out the beauty of life. There must always be balance - passion and reason, red and blue, fire and ice. It is the balance, the give and take, the changes - spring to summer to autumn to winter to spring - that bring variety, that give us hope, that take our breath away. Life is full of glorious contrasts, when you look at it. It's just... Grand."

Minerva was surprised at how eloquently she had spoken. She'd been taught to speak and act with proper manners, but she'd never been a standout orator. Perhaps it had just been a good moment. She wasn't going to complain - any sagacious words were welcome to her.

Aww, how cute! It appeared as if Ravvus had misinterpreted her winks and flirtatiousness to mean country matters... Or... Had he misinterpreted them? Laughing inwardly, the young woman gave Ravvus a reassuring smile.

"No need to be so alarmed, Ravvus. We've only just met - I'll be gentle. Actually, no. I get the sense from you that you're one who goes all the way - all in, full force, leaving it all on the field of battle. I like that. I think we'll get along well. But be careful - I don't want that cute face of yours to get singed by my fire!"

While she didn't speak of it, Minerva had a small smirk when she thought of her other, more secret weapon. She hadn't finished studying it yet, so she'd need to pull out the tome to cast well, which would give it away to Ravvus... Perhaps in a pinch she would exercise her cool new magic.

When the other mage offered to show her something, Minerva rose gracefully and took his proffered arm. She was flattered and impressed that he knew finer points of etiquette, something many men these days were sorely lacking in.

"Gladly. Lead on, Ravvus."

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus found himself agreeing with Minerva. The most beautiful things in life were uncovered when presented with juxtaposition. ”Like watching the sun set, or rise, during a light snowfall.” He commented. Ravvus enjoyed each of Elibe's countries and their bizarre quirks. There was something indescribably peaceful about the endless green plains of Sacae. There was something humbling beyond words about standing before a mountain in Bern. And the divine wonder of Ilia lay in its snow. There was nowhere else in Elibe which had such a pure pattern of weather. And watching that pure frost fall against a warm orange sky could was as humbling as a seeing Bernese mountain or the Sacaen plains.

The more the woman talked the more confused Ravvus became. She began speaking in much more obvious innuendos, but was clearly referring to battle as she spoke. The mage didn't know how to interpret her. Perhaps the woman simply had a coquettish streak about her, deliberately casting allusions in order to get some sort of rise out of her company. The mage elected not to examine her words too carefully. Rather, he considered their current situation. She had just called him cute, joking that she didn't want to burn his face. For that he was thankful, although he wondered if Minerva was truly capable of accomplishing such a feat. The blue-haired woman had taken his hand, accepting his measure of courtesy. She rose with the poise of a noblewoman, lapsing into old habits. Her hand felt smooth and was pleasant to touch. It was funny to see Minerva adopt such a proper posture. So there was what he knew. The woman wanted to battle with him, she thought he was cute, and she had taken his hand. Those were all things he liked. Whatever Minerva's intentions were, whether she was flirtatious and fickle or genuinely interested in the mage's company, the mage decided to enjoy the moment. Over-examining the scene before him would simply ruin the experience.

Ravvus took the lead, guiding Minerva out of the restaurant. They walked for a bit, until they were out of sight of the small eatery. The village of Veronia was a good distance away from them now. What Ravvus had in store wasn't necessarily something he did not want anyone else to see, but it did include the summoning of fire. The blond man imagined that, for most people, starting a fire would be cause for alarm. And he would rather not deal with their accusing glares. Ravvus turned back to face Minerva, having found a spot far from the village. ”Well here we are.” The blue-haired woman was probably wondering where here was. What the significance of the spot was. Ravvus took a deep breath and propped open his tome. He took a few steps back, creating some distance between him and the woman. He muttered a ball of flame into life as he had done so many times before. He held it there, aloft and between him and the other mage. It took a great deal of concentration for the mage to simply keep the ball of heat in being. Fire spells weren't intended to last very long. It could be incredibly taxing for a caster to defy the 'forget' rule of fire magic. After a little more than half a minute, the fireball faded and dispersed from existence. ”There." He said, visibly strained. The mage panted, taking slow measured breaths. "Thirty seconds. That's my current record.” Ravvus surmised that he'd actually kept this last fireball alive for thirty five or thirty seven seconds. That was good. He was getting better. The mage wept a small conglomeration of sweat from his brow.

The blond man looked back at Minerva, awaiting her response. He wondered if she understood the significance of his having shared that. Solidarity did not come easily to the mage. While he had bragged to Duma about his record for maintaining a fireball, it was not a piece of information he shared with many people. It was one of the mage's most cherished accomplishments, but also a guarded secret.

[Minerva]

”Like watching the sun set, or rise, during a light snowfall.”

Minerva nodded in response to Ravvus's words. It was true; natural beauty was striking. She loved Ilian sunsets, especially in late autumn, when snow fell before the skies turned entirely gray. The burst of warm colors, breaking through the slate of the darkening sky... It was a wondrous sight to behold.

As they walked, Minerva caught sight of a slight blush on her companion's face and a bit of a quizzical look on his brow. Maybe she'd been overly forward. It was, all things considered, too late to retract her light jabs, and it didn't seem to bother him too much, so the pretty young woman simply smiled and walked along.

Soon the two arrived at... Where were they? There was nothing here save the road, a small clearing, and a field of what appeared to be onions. There was nothing special about this place. What did Ravvus have in mind?

Suddenly, the mage brought forth fire into being, not launching it as Minerva expected but instead simply holding it. Yes, his fire was beautiful. She could see that. But what was the purpose? The fire was nice, but he wasn't doing anything with it. Just holding it, that was... Oh.

The mage had held the ball of flame for about half a minute when it dispersed, slowly dying off in a flutter of gold and red.

"Impressive."

The mage moved over, gently rubbing Ravvus's shoulder for a second before stepping back and clucking at him, shaking her head in mock chastisement, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"You should't exert yourself so much before battle, honey. You'll make it too easy for me!"

Then her features faded into seriousness and she complimented him, with no sign of jesting in her tone.

"Honestly, though? That is impressive. I'm lucky if I can manage half that time. You must practice control a lot... That may be my weak spot. Control. I have power and spontaneity, but that control is something I should improve upon."

Leaning over, Minerva bent and stretched, touching her toes and then leaning back, her arms locked behind her head. She was warming up, allowing Ravvus a chance to cool down.

"Well, Ravvus, whenever you're ready... I've got a burning question to ask you, if you will. Hehehe!"

Blue flames briefly flickered around Minerva's arms as she signaled her desire to the other mage. Her blood was running hot, but her mind was icy calm for now. She wanted to take him on!