She kneels, but doesn't touch it. "It's magic, that's for sure."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He nodded in agreement. When he checked some of the higher planes, there was an unfamiliar aura around it. He rarely saw magical objects in his travels, but he had been acquainted with them enough times to recognize one.
She reaches out, almost touching it but not quite. "It's powerful, whatever it is."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Haven't you ever seen something like it?" He tried to run through the possible things it could be, but none of them seemed to match the object before him. "It's a good thing that it isn't a communication stone," he absentmindedly added, looking over at her. "Touching it would be the last thing you would want to do."
"No, the color is similar to my magic, but that's all."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
His eyes widened. "You can see auras?" he questioned. He looked down at the guise he was using. If she could see auras, didn't that increase the likelihood of her being able to see what he looked like on the other planes? He had made sure that his guise extended as far as it could, but what if he slipped? The thought made him shiver with fear.
She shrugs, hand shining as a film of pale green covers it before she picks up the glowing rock.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
It's like a current of electricity racing through his arm. The power is palpable and strong, nearly knocking him back as it moves through him with immense force.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He struggled to remain standing. The magic was incredible; he had never felt anything like it before. It certainly wasn't like anything related to his fellow spirits. This was something completely foreign. He kept his hand on object. The pain was horrific, but he had certainly dealt with worse. He needed to learn if there was anything that would happen with prolonged exposure.
The green energy begins to trace his fingers and grow up his arm.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Still dealing with the surging pain, he watched the energy with interest. It continued to grow up his arm. While it was certainly painful and the energy was certainly doing something, that something didn't seem to be malicious.
Small stone walls covered in moss rise upon a hill covered in lush grass, a glade enclosed by sweet-smelling pines. Blue sky is frigid and clean and wildflowers dot the hillside as children run about and play under the watchful eyes of parents. Brilliant-plumaged birds dance in the air while mothers walk along the river, the fathers in the forest hunting.
Within the walls lies a village of thatch rooftops and brick-and-stone buildings, a labyrinth of cobbled streets twisting through them. Carriages drawn by equine beasts that are horse-like in form and figure clatter along, led by the green-hued humanoids that are the denizens of the ancient town.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
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