Don't shout at me like I'm across the room when I'm right here, when you're right this time
It’s a blur of work to any of those watching him, but for Glas time remains still – it’s Deimos that grows slower as he builds up his lantern – pieces and intricacies added into the lanterns in a means that takes forever in comparison to the magic in his veins. But soon enough he’s done, settled back in his chair with his two complete lanterns, his green gaze lifting momentarily to glance at Deimos when he notices the man is staring at him. He didn’t know what it looked like to others when he used his magic – always spending time alone in his workshop or home whenever he used it.
His gaze tears away to the lanterns, lifting a pale hand to fiddle with the delicately designed wood engravings of his mother’s lantern, trying his best to ignore the eyes of the unicorn as well. “It’s… All t-that I know.” He says quietly. He’d been crafting since he was small, was supposed to one day inherit the workshop from his father, he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
As for how he did it, though, there’s a ghost of a smile that crosses his scarred face. “M-magic.” He stutters, but beneath the word sits a yawning abyss of opportunity.
His gaze tears away to the lanterns, lifting a pale hand to fiddle with the delicately designed wood engravings of his mother’s lantern, trying his best to ignore the eyes of the unicorn as well. “It’s… All t-that I know.” He says quietly. He’d been crafting since he was small, was supposed to one day inherit the workshop from his father, he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.
As for how he did it, though, there’s a ghost of a smile that crosses his scarred face. “M-magic.” He stutters, but beneath the word sits a yawning abyss of opportunity.
GLAS
