Lyer & Aluraios | Magic
Lyer watched with mental eyes as the final strand of the spell that would reinforce his subtly fading protections slipped into the weave around him. He dropped the temporary shields which had cost him the most effort in this whole casting but were necessary to protect him from splinters and warping while his main shields were down by the wood which he lightly held in one hand, then groaned, slumping forward onto the bed.
A slender hand reached out to support him and remove the wood from his limp hand as he closed his eye wretchedly. "It's alright 'Rios, I just need to get my breath back," he said, letting his forehead drop onto the waiting shoulder. The younger man stroked his back until Lyer's preternatural self-healing powers reasserted themselves and he sat up, straightening the soft pale lounging tunic from underneath his body. "Thanks, love," he murmured, "that spell takes a lot out of me."
Aluraios sat back against the pillows ringing the circle, watching as Lyer dismissed the wards with a tired gesture, and studied his partner with veiled interest. "You still haven't explained why. Nothing I do with my shields causes that kind of exhaustion."
"Maybe because you never risk spending yourself?" Lyer's wry tones were teasing as he levered himself up, brushing an escaped sweat-soaked strand of hair from his cheek. He tossed a couple if pillows behind his back and drew one knee up under his chin, and stretched the other across the circle, his dark gaze steady above his hands clasping his knee. "It's basically because of the way my magic works," he relented at the Fireborn's mock glare. "You remember why I was Changed, don't you?"
"Because Lord Esiral decided that it was your family's fault for some incident or other?"
Lyer nodded, pushing away the 300-year-old memories of the ambush, and then the sharp confused pain of teeth, still vivid after all the time that had past. "Most, if not all other vampires are made because of love, or greed for power, or just because they think they want eternal life and are quite willing to have a life of immortal hell to get it," he continued, succeeding in losing the memories in concentration. "Some people are more likely to be Changed, and they give in to the blood magic easily that gives us our powers and keeps us forever young. I'm not one of them."
Aluraios suppressed a smile, not wanting to hurt the vampire's feelings as he self-consciously brushed his fingers over his cheekbones to finger at the coal knot of hair secured by a silver chain at the base of his neck. "I occasionally look in the mirror and wonder why I haven't aged. I suppose I still can't accept that I am what I am."
The pause reached between them and Aluraios shook his head, resisting the temptation to move to clasp one of the hands that Lyer was studiously studying. "Lyer, you don't have to try or force yourself to accept something that you're never going to be."
"Anyway, human mages who are changed," Lyer snapped the moment uncomfortably, sitting up to ostentatiously rearrange the cushions, "have their magic change, transmutated into a darker form. Mine wasn't fully changed."
"Because you didn't have the vampiric predisposition?"
Lyer nodded, "Hardly any if at all. I'm surprised I'm as strong as I am," he moved slightly, finding a more comfortable spot as the stone floor started to feel hard under him. "Magic is very tied in with species, vampires are unique in that we are made, and magic needs to be changed when we are created. Our magic makes us what we are."
The 'our' sounded forced to Aluraios as he settled back on the cushions, but he didn't push his lover as the conversation turned to the discussion of the Fireborn's magic and from there to shielding techniques.
© Clare Selley 2009
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