The Eye of Everfell

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The Man with Mirrored Eyes floated in a cocoon of music. The sight could be described no other way. He hovered horizontally in the middle of an unfurnished white room: no gilding, no carpeting, not a single stick of furniture. His black robes starkly contrasted to the room's brilliance, illumination that came seemingly from nowhere. Long, inky hair haloed his head as though he were underwater; his eyes were closed, his arms outstretched, his fingers directing the waves of sound that pulsed across the chamber.

Glyphs span around him in interlocking circles, characters of Apokrypy that shimmered in shades of vibrant color with every radiant note. Masiki stared, unashamed of her openmouthed astonishment. She was considered proficient in Apokrypy to the point of mastery, but what she witnessed was impossible to duplicate, or even fully comprehend for that matter. Controlling so many characters at once was much like gazing at the stars and interpreting an entire language from their arrangements. That kind of power could be used to topple kingdoms, alter the natural landscape of one's surroundings, even toy with the very fabric of reality.

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