[ The first thing Ai learns is how to cover tattoos with foundation.
The mark comes on slowly - or at least, slowly enough that it takes a few days until she notices it. Though with how much of a mess her head has been since that evening, she's sort of impressed with herself that she'd noticed it at all.
At first, she mistakes it for a bruise. It's faint and vaguely blue, imprecisely shaped and tender to the touch in the way a bruise sometimes is. She doesn't know what she might have done to cause it, but she imagines it might have happened in the chaos of the initial summoning, that she might have caught her hand on something without realising. But rather than fade, the mark grows increasingly sharp and clear as time passes and Ai realizes perhaps later than she should that it's not a bruise at all. It's the shape of some winged insect - she supposes it would have to be a butterfly - pressed to the back of her hand like a stamp. Or maybe a brand. Somehow, nobody else seems to have noticed it at all but rather than take the risk of courting any sort of scandal, Ai just makes sure that nobody gets the chance.
The second thing Ai learns is that this mark is called a command seal.
Getting through the rest of the book is a miserable slog. Kanji is her enemy on the best of days but between all the scribbly handwritten notes and all the archaic words she's never even seen in her life, it feels like she's reading in another language altogether. But now that she's stumbled her way into this, it seems vital that she understand as much of this bizarre situation as she can. It's a less efficient way of learning than if she'd just ask Oberon - she knows that if she asked, he'd explain things simply and kindly but it seems wiser to put her own effort in than bombarding him with questions. She also knows, after all, that a clueless girl trying to fix her own ignorance is much, much preferable to one who asks too many questions.
The third thing Ai learns is - ]
... Mm. Oberon... are you there?
[ A pointless question. Ai knows that even when she seems to be alone, all it takes is saying his name for him to come to her side in a blink.
It's late. Later then her usual bedtime, but she has a rare day off tomorrow and Ai's taking advantage of the extra time to drill through as much of what's left of the book as she can. Between dictionaries, notes to herself and everything else, her desk is a mess but she's been making surprisingly steady progress at least.
So why does she have such a troubled look on her face? ]
no subject
The mark comes on slowly - or at least, slowly enough that it takes a few days until she notices it. Though with how much of a mess her head has been since that evening, she's sort of impressed with herself that she'd noticed it at all.
At first, she mistakes it for a bruise. It's faint and vaguely blue, imprecisely shaped and tender to the touch in the way a bruise sometimes is. She doesn't know what she might have done to cause it, but she imagines it might have happened in the chaos of the initial summoning, that she might have caught her hand on something without realising. But rather than fade, the mark grows increasingly sharp and clear as time passes and Ai realizes perhaps later than she should that it's not a bruise at all. It's the shape of some winged insect - she supposes it would have to be a butterfly - pressed to the back of her hand like a stamp. Or maybe a brand. Somehow, nobody else seems to have noticed it at all but rather than take the risk of courting any sort of scandal, Ai just makes sure that nobody gets the chance.
The second thing Ai learns is that this mark is called a command seal.
Getting through the rest of the book is a miserable slog. Kanji is her enemy on the best of days but between all the scribbly handwritten notes and all the archaic words she's never even seen in her life, it feels like she's reading in another language altogether. But now that she's stumbled her way into this, it seems vital that she understand as much of this bizarre situation as she can. It's a less efficient way of learning than if she'd just ask Oberon - she knows that if she asked, he'd explain things simply and kindly but it seems wiser to put her own effort in than bombarding him with questions. She also knows, after all, that a clueless girl trying to fix her own ignorance is much, much preferable to one who asks too many questions.
The third thing Ai learns is - ]
... Mm. Oberon... are you there?
[ A pointless question. Ai knows that even when she seems to be alone, all it takes is saying his name for him to come to her side in a blink.
It's late. Later then her usual bedtime, but she has a rare day off tomorrow and Ai's taking advantage of the extra time to drill through as much of what's left of the book as she can. Between dictionaries, notes to herself and everything else, her desk is a mess but she's been making surprisingly steady progress at least.
So why does she have such a troubled look on her face? ]