Before Ink's eyes, a group of separate spheres hung in a darkened space. They were transparent, different in size and all as one hummed in an uneven rhythm. Transparent clots of the correct form trembled, increasing and decreasing in size, suggesting to Ink the idea of ​​a membrane of speakers. They also create sound by vibrations, but in the audio system it's at least clear where the force comes from, causing the speaker to make a sound. Here ...

"There must be a reason. You just need to find her. "

Ink was worried when he saw the division of the whole mass into separate parts, but now he understood that it did not change. It would be more true to say that this is his point of view that has undergone changes. Toads do not see fixed objects, but if they suddenly turned into a snake, a change in the picture of the world could be shocking to the animal. And if you add also the perception of thermal radiation of the object ...

"Here is the break in the template," Ink thought . - It remains to understand what it is and why. The main thing is not to break anything, it's scary to become a vegetable ... Something this rhythm reminds me of. "

Non-uniform step, vibration, slightly different in frequency and duration. It was possible to distinguish separate "instruments", despite the fact that everything resembled a trembling tremor. Boiling water in large pots in a saucepan, sticks running along a row of metal fence rods, drum roll in front of a dangerous trick in a circus, music without a clear rhythm and familiar melody ... the word gagaku came to mind - music for the gods.

"Really similar. The same meaningless set of sounds, Ink thought . - Only how to make this buzz not so close in sound range, add high and medium frequencies? Wind and string instruments? "

Attempts to begin to perceive everything "somehow differently" did not lead to anything, and acting on trembling membrane spheres seemed stupid. Such dangerous negligence could lead to irreversible consequences. Only now did Ink really understand Kiass's words about the importance of a personal mentor. The pamphlet did not guarantee complete knowledge, but did not want to screw up on the issue affecting the brain. A crazy thought flashed through to try to synchronize this vibration with a mantra that had surfaced from memory, but was immediately discarded. When one of the transparent spheres buzzed somewhat like Ommmm, Ink got scared, and then flew out of the state of contemplation of his inner world.

The body was not afraid, the heart beat calmly, no deviations in the appearance reflected in the immediately created mirror were observed. No one in the room was paying attention to Ink anymore .

"I wonder how long I stood like that? However, it will wait. Let's see if I can benefit from the new knowledge. If I correctly understood that thing with a sympathetic [1] connection and the role of consciousness in this process, then it is enough just to believe and create a kind of anchor for the mind. This is how to convince the child that the trick with the disappearance of the coin from the palm of his hand is a manifestation of magic. "

Without taking his eyes off the mirror, Ink began to impose a disguise on his horns. From the tips and below, they gradually became transparent, resembling either crystal or ice. In the space between them, he drew a symbol similar to that left on Narkert's cheek. After some thought, he sprayed it, relying on the image of the northern lights. The haze spread overhead and enveloped the whole body.

Cooling, Ink convinced himself . "My horns are turning to ice and this haze is also getting colder."

It really drew cold. The haze shifted to the ceiling, creating a light draft. When more than half of the horns began to resemble an ice sculpture, a snowflake fell from the radiance that changed its color to icy blue. Ink looked at her spellbound, put his hand up, not daring to believe that he had done real magic. Abilities, golden glow, super-memory - all this was amazing, but it seemed bland. To achieve it yourself, to discover something new, to comprehend the inexpressible feeling of achievement, albeit naive and childish, but dreams ... There is a big difference between what is given by someone and what is created independently. Sweet feeling flooded nature of Ink and. He will not be able to refuse such a thing. Cold air descended, flowing around the body with a lazy weightless waterfall.

"I can now earn extra money with air conditioning," Ink came up with a silly thought. - So after all with fire it should turn out? Just imagine ... "

With new experiences, he decided to hold off. The feeling was too bright and pleasant. I wanted to enjoy it fully, without diluting it with other emotions and without exchanging it for extra fuss.

Ink looked at the others in the room.

"Have you rebuilt your icy body?" - Kiass said fascinatedly , not taking his eyes off several new snowflakes.

"No," Ink answered quietly . - This is different.

Grank's expression and he could not understand. The motorcyclist looked beaten, but pacified. He thought about something of his own and did not betray anything in the place in which his thoughts were carried away. Arsi , frowning at the snowflakes, nibbling the edge of her lower lip. Noticing Ink a look , she lowered her head, casting rare glances at the golden-skinned.

Hobby, Ink wondered . - It is for this that exists, to do something with your own hands. It's nice. Emotional reward is an amazing thing. Kiass is an alchemist. Probably, he also feels something similar from a successful creation ... whatever he created there. You need to find a profession for yourself. Demanded and such that she gave pleasure to me personally. "

Ink did not ask for details from Kiass a, who knew more about the buffer than everyone else from their company . It seemed more correct to wait with questions until Glam returned.

Something on the floor caught his eye. Two small black beads on a thin crossbeam. Ink held out his hand with a sign and a drop of force field picked up the thing. He flinched at the unexpected sensation. After training with a stone crumb in the arena, Ink immediately impregnated one of the beads with a force field, but there was something special about this thing - the transparent substance of the will-wire disintegrated, as if something furious from the inside "yelled" to the force. Forced to retreat.

Already more carefully, Ink wrapped the thing in a force field - only the outer layer - and pulled it into his palm. An attempt to re-impregnate the bead with a force field failed. Ink tried to do this with the second - the result was the same. Surprisingly, the attempt to penetrate both beads at once turned out to be easier, but what still interfered inside - one bead contained something "biting and growling", and the second "cold and arrogant". That was how Ink om felt . Intuitively, he tried to thicken the force field and succeeded. The transparent substance began to resemble glue, although it greatly decreased in size.

"Control has also become harder," Ink wondered .

He immediately thought of chewing gum, which could no longer be so easily torn off the sole on a hot day. The association seemed unpleasant, and something hidden in the beads was not going to give up. Ink himself did not notice how he activated blood control.

Everything calmed down. One bead stopped growling, and the second chilled. It was like silent patience on their part. Not too happy for the guest, but still willing to tolerate.

Ink began to carefully impregnate the power item and as soon as he completed the process, something happened - images began to invade his mind. Man and woman.

"Child, we are your parents ... Our blood is divine ... inconsistency ... love ... you did not get our blood ... ordinary mortals ... The cross of Alzuria will help ... memory ... a world protected by the spirit ... a chance ... find a way to combine in itself ... power ..."

Words all streamed from the lips of images. A man in a silver coat, around which lightning flashed periodically. Woman in white with blue patterns, layered clothes and icy blue jewelry. Ink's head was spinning, he rushed into the world of consciousness, trying to sort out new knowledge, hold it. Everything went even somehow familiarly, although it was only done a second time - the transparent seething mass dispersed into trembling drops and made it possible to notice some clumps of shadows that flew only occasionally looking here and there.

Ink tried to grab them, but that was tantamount to trying to grab a ghost. He felt himself pulsating, and then examined the thin threads diverging to the sides. They penetrated the whole space, resting their tips against trembling spheres.

"No ..." Ink realized . - All wrong. It is not the spheres that tremble, but the ends of the threads. All these areas are just small areas highlighted by them. "

Thin channels turned out to be like optical fiber. Now, Ink felt like a little star, unraveling its nets in a space that had poor light transmission. He tried to shine brighter, but instinct warned that this was a bad idea. By force of will, Ink tried to shift one of the threads, but nothing came of it, then he began to recall the events in the buffer, paying attention to the auction and several fibers smoothly moved to the sides. Some shifted higher, some lower. The spheres themselves have changed in size.

"My attention! It is worth focusing on other things and the distribution of intensity changes. The size of the spheres changes because of this? Because thoughts are restless? Then in meditation all this should disappear? If consciousness begins to shine brighter, will it embrace everything? Then the expression all my life flashed before my eyes - not a joke? Do people try to find a way to solve the problem in their memory and thereby begin to shine brighter, covering the entire space of the mind? And if you overdo it? Supernova explosion? Stars ... one of the forms of evolution for the third stage of the keenra? .. "

The hypotheses, the prospects of testing them and the application of new knowledge captured Ink's mind, and why the wobble of the strands of light became chaotic. The strands of light jumped from one place to another so quickly that they began to resemble lightning. The sound of electric cod added to the vibration in this world. As a result, I managed to calm down, although not immediately. The flows became calmer, and the threads stopped trembling so much. At one point, Ink was so focused on the silence that the channels of light began to disappear. In his inner world, peace reigned, and the light from the "star" began to spread wider. Shaded distortions immediately reached him. They melted, giving Ink a message from representatives of higher powers - the possessors of divine blood - to their "child." None of them spoke more clearly, which added Ink to frustration. It was not possible to recognize the boy, their child or girl.

Information was sent in different directions, but Ink tried to concentrate on the "re-melted" pieces of information. The strands of light grabbed them into small spheres, and then began to combine them into one bunch, large and solid.

- Thank you, I did not immediately notice that something was missing.

Ink did not immediately realize that he was in a familiar world.

"They raised it, but forgot to wake it up ..."

It took some time to realize where he is and to remember the name of the person in front of him.

" Grank , could you repeat it?" - said Ink .

Nearby was Kiass a quiet laugh .

"I said thank you," Grank showed the beads sandwiched between his fingers. Ink only now realized that his palm was empty. - This freak in the arena ... It is not surprising that I did not notice how the drops disappeared.

"Still, we didn't hear it, Ink ," said the golden-skinned cheerfully, "this thug knows how to thank people."

"This is ..." Ink pointed to the beads, not knowing how to ask about the relationship between the amulet and the fellow practitioner.

"The piercing," said Grank quietly, embarrassed a little, but quickly regained his confidence. To the full bewilderment of the looks of those around him, the motorcyclist pulled up his T-shirt and pointed to his navel. There was a scratch with clotted blood.

"You did the piercing," Ink marveled at how accusatory this sounded in his performance.

- Listen! - Grank immediately angry. - I myself do not like it understood! I already appeared like that. As it occurred to me to fasten this nonsense to the navel - I have no idea. Memory is erased in the world of reflection, but one day I can restore it. I am sure this was a good reason.

"Of course," Kiass confirmed with a stone face.

- Shut up! - the motorcyclist exploded. - That's it, roll me away. I will rest and restore strength. Tomorrow someone will not say hello in the arena.

Judging by the mockery in the eyes Kiass but golden-skinned was convinced that this "someone" would itself Grank .

A knock on the door distracted everyone from the situation. Almost without delay, a young man opened it. It turned out to be the same type that approached them in the arena hall, while another descendant of the magicians was carving Grank and nuts.

- What do you need here ?! Growled the motorcyclist. - Do you run into a fight? Wait until tomorrow.

"No, I'm just sending a message," the magician just stuck his head into the room, but his expression — malicious, dismissive, and partly funny — made Ink want to kick his door so that his intruder would pinch his neck. He did not embody the impulse, but thought it would be nice to find out where such thoughts appeared in his mind. - Michaelon arranges a reception in honor of the next stage of his experiment. It seems that the experimental rabbit is known to you.

The mage squinted at Arsi . The attempt to lure from the protected shelter is obvious, but something greatly changed the situation. A symbol shone on one of the provocateur's cheeks - exactly the same as Ink om put on Narkert's face.

"And this begs the question?" Why would a Glam friend pretend to be a different person and try to trap us? "

-----

The sympathetic connection is the mystical principle of influencing one object through the application of effort to its image. One example is a voodoo doll. Poking her priest of this Haitian religion supposedly can harm a person. To create a sympathetic connection, the victim's nails and hair are used to create the doll. Another example is holy icons / images. The healing effect of touching them is compared to touching the saints themselves. If touching Jesus from Nazareth could be healed, then this will happen if you touch his sufficiently accurate image. From the concept of sympathetic communication, different peoples have a belief that photography steals the soul of a person.