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That mortal dared to threaten his 'life'? Tha tpuny little boy thing thought he could play with the big dogs? Bah!

The 'cowboy' ground his teeth slightly, and he pulled the ball back out of the pocket, holding it between finger and thumb again, looking out from behind it at the 'mage'.

He paused for a moment, considering it before he closed his fist around the ball. Then, launched a rude gesture towards the Mage. After all, if the ball was all that important to Get Back, he wouldn't blow it up.

Insolent Mortal. He would dare strike out against him?

Oh, it was on now, yes, it was on...

He dropped the ball in his hand, irritated that it got all this pathetic smoke fizz on his hand. And that hand quickly drew up into a fist.

Hmm, that mage was Up There. Out of reach. At least, out of enough reach that he wasn't going to be able to rip his throat out with his bare hands as he would have liked.

Well, so be it. He'd show that little mage.

His hands came up, and slowly he started whispering, while he made large, sweeping gestures with his hands, a flair of the dramatic while the chanting rose in volume.

That place was probably protected against magic... but well, why not?

So he went on, finishing his spellwork with a cresendo, his right arm coming around in a heavy sweep, finally pointing up towards the kid, right between his eyes.

Where, if things went right, he'd strike the kid blind with a Continual Light Spell, right on the eyes. Damn punk kids. He fully deserved it too, in the cowboy's mind.

Woomph

The magic that had been directed towards the mage met the silent and invisible barrier surrounding the infamous conclave. Even so, it didn't simply absorb it, the shock of the impact sent a ripple across the surface that exposed the sheer size of the giant orb that enveloped the buildings. To say the barrier was big was an understatement as it towered high into the air (to cover much air space) and far below into the dark pit the buildings hovered above.

Not that it was intentional to completely expose the entirety of the shield but the 'violent' reaction did serve a purpose.

While the mage 'reeled' back in mock response to the attack, clasping his forehead and wailing in the fashion of a drama queen; the thrumming magic and the flurry of activity within the shields alerted the Conclave masters to an attack.

...And perhaps something that really shouldn't have been disturbed.

"Who dares defile the Conclave walls?" The voice roared from within the pit.

******

The priestess was not one to express her grief regularly, nor did she express sadness but the vulnerability of the creature before her made her quiver. His desperate pleas only served to bolster her already chosen path but all the same she desired to inact it as quickly as was mortally possible.

Thus, she did.

Withdrawing her hold upon his mind she instead turned her attentions to the chaotic energy surrounding the creature. Bit by bit, piece by piece (like a giant puzzle) she pieced them together until slowly but surely they became visible in the form of a dull glow. As she continued to concentrate on the energy, binding it to her will she thrust it into a shape.

Just a little here and there, she had to make sure it was warm.

With a faint click, a crackle and a pulse of protest the energy obeyed. It may have been his energy but she had been taught well and although she couldn't dissipate it she would transform it. While it still remained Chaotic, still trapped him she ensured it no longer attacked his mind directly. Instead, it turned into a crystal substance, shrouding Mirror in a see-through coffin.

With the chaotic energies now content to simply imprison their victim for what they considered an eternity, the priestess then began to work her own divine magic. Calling upon this spirits, she took measures to 'penetrate' and traced a delicate hand along the top until it lay over his chest.

He would understand, soon.

"Rise." She spoke aloud, her voice quiet and yet perfectly audible in the small room. Still choosing to ignore the company, she began to lift her hand and the small wispy orb lifted from the Al Sylian. Slowly but surely it drifted away from the coffin and once it broke free it's form began to change.

...At first, the wisp seemed uncertain and then 'instinct' seemed to take over as the spirit realised it's location. However, upon this realisation the form became clearer, it began to develop and the small shape of the Al Sylian began to emerge.

Granted he looked more like a ghost but...

"You can open your eyes now." She coaxed softly, mentally preparing herself for the shriek of horror he would probably release when he found out that he couldn't see his reflection and that she had rather unceremoniously tugged his spirit from its vessel. It would only be a temporary measure provided he took the advice she gave him, but if it had been her she probably would have been a little disconcerted.

Didn't stop her wondering what it was like to be weightless though.

((I'm assuming, because Shade managed to catch a glimpse of the Overlord that one time, people without psychic tendencies can see ghosts in general--and thus Mirror too, right?))

Leaning against the wall silently, Shade watched the spectacle with, (contradictorily enough), an equal mixture of interest and boredom, oscillating from one side of the spectrum to the other several times during the ordeal, probably because, (though he would loathe to admit it, even to himself) he had no telepathic tendencies whatsoever.
~They just don't have any sense of showmanship here, do they?~
Though some might have called the cleric's initial levitation act tacky, this Dark Lord, (who was a fan of the classics) found it quite intriguing. Unfortunately, it's follow-up--th cleric tapping Mirror's skull silently for a few minutes was simply boring...he'd half-convinced himself to sneak out of the room and explore the place a bit by the time it was finished. Luckily for him though, this rather unimpressive display ended abrubtly with, what appeared to be the extraction of Mirror's soul from his body. He didn't know how this would help the winged peasant, but it might mean that he wouldn't have to lug him around anymore...
After a few moments of pondering Mirror's new look, the same event that had been bothering Shade for what seemed like over a year now came back into his mind once again--if Mirror could leave his body and still be alive, does that mean the Overlord wasn't dead? What would that mean in conjuncture with Roan and Exodus?
A puzzled look on his face, the Dark Lord yawned ever so slightly, and continued to watch.

The latent telepath, afraid of her own powers even as she longed for them, cried with relief as some part of her comprehended what the priestess was doing. She curled into the GaiaCom's arms, protctively curling her arms around her young son as he lightly patted her back in the embrace. Myranda watched with analytical eyes, of course not being able to feel the flow of calm the priestess gave Trelweny though she could feel her friend relax nor the bridge she had made in the Al Sylian's mind. Trelweny could, and perhaps her son, and through their bond the kyunru noticed it more clearly than perhaps she could alone. *Easy, Trelweny. Watch and learn.*

And on the inner level that housed her talant, the young widow did. Her head tilted to layon Myranda's shoulder and her eyes opened, though their green depths did not seem to be viewing as one normally would. Her vision could see what was there and what was on the psychic plane as the clearly trained woman before Mirror did her work. She watched and learned, Keyna could tell, but the knowledge would remain locked... hidden from the woman's "normal" mind until who knows when. Until she can get past the conditioning that it is an abominataion... witchcraft... or simply something that cannot be real but only in her imagination... The peacock fae kyunru sighed heavily, butterfly wings fluttering sadly. Oh, yes... she knew her bond. And still she could not find the lock nor the key to release Trelweny's mind from the self-imposed inhibitions. At least maybe she learned something...

Keyna looked up in time to see the GaiaCom's brow quirk and hear the baby clap with glee alongside the kun's excited outburst and Caylee's startled "Meep!" "Oorya! Karo!! Yenenin!! Tol pelae, yendre disa!"

Myranda wished she had an extra arm at that moment. "Hush, bug." She hissed. *Have some respect, Tien.* Her doe-like brown eyes filled with tears, perhaps feeling the dancer's grief through the empathy of the human whose eyes were already saturated with them. *Change is nost easy to most.*

Tien pouted a brief moment, but listened to her kin. It settled back onto the kyunru's head, violet eyes going wide.

Mirror listened close, his hands still pressed upon the cool surface of the crystalline coffin. If he had his body, his hands would've been sweating and his knees would've been knocking into one another. The Al Sylian still felt absolutely clutched within grief and lamentation. The reality of what had just happened was still settling itself about him like dust drifting down to a riverbed. It was difficult for him to restrain himself from giving another cry of bereavement. As he listened, Mirror would hiccup on his choking moans and reach up to hold his throat.

When he heard that he had to repent and journey for his mistakes, the Al Sylian gave another gulp as he swallowed another moan. Mistakes...That seemed to be the only thing he was good for. First, he fell to the chaotic hands of his mentally broken father and murdered countless members of his own village. Then he had to venture forth, banished from his home, to bear the burdens of his father's crimes and repent. Now, while performing a dance, sacred to his culture and to himself, he had made one of the biggest mistakes one could possibly make during the dance and now he lost his body to chaotic psychich energy...Now he had to repent for this too.

At least, though, there was a chance to save himself. Mirror clung to that fact as if clinging to driftwood. Not only that, but there would be others accompanying him, he hoped. Everything seemed to be moving into place and getting ready to roll. Perhaps he wouldn't be seperated from his body for long.

It grieved him still, though...This feeling felt so strangely cold, alone, vulnerable, and empty. It worried him and it frightened him that he could see through himself, that he couldn't see himself in reflections, and that he had to focus hard on his movement if he wanted to touch anything. Even when he touched something, he still couldn't feel it. He just knew that it was there. He wasn't used to this new state of being.

Mirror forced his face to be mute of emotion and he nodded as the priestess closed her mouth.

"I will try and learn from my mistakes...I want to go to Serenity Temple," he said, his voice strangely sounding like an echo from behind a wall. He curved his shoulders and bowed his head, tucking his ethereal wings close to his back so that others wouldn't see them trembling.

It seemed Trelweny was starting to come back to reality a bit from the mental ... whatever had happened. Enough that thoughts were coming in a more cognizant pattern though not enough that she realized she was speaking mentally instead of audibly. *A journey? I don't know... Theron's so young, and I've others to care for...* There was a sense in her thoughts about the pets currently at home under the audio Aiden's & the kitsu Remus' watchful care. But then Theron was wiggling out of her grasp and Myranda set them both down. Before his mother's body could react fast enough to pull him to her the two-year-old was jogging up to the Al Sylian's spirit, hugging him both physically in action and on a psychic level. *Help dance.* Came the child's clear thought, audible to any with telekinetic ability in the room as he smiled up at Mirror.

Keyna chuckled almost inaudibly, a soft smile playing along her maw. *Guess we're going.* All the human woman could do was shake her head incredulously and shrug her shoulders before nodding. The GaiaCom rolled her eyes. "Oh great. That means we're going, doesn't it?"

The Al Sylian almost didn't hear the priestess's words. He was terrified, shaking and holding himself now with a tight embrace of his arms. What terrified him so was the child before him who had attempted to hug his ethereal form. When the little one had stepped up to give him a hug of comfort, he almost fell through Mirror's legs. It wasn't that, though, that truely frightened the Al Sylian. It was the fact that he couldn't feel Theron. He couldn't feel him at all! Maybe the slight wispy feeling of something that might be near his legs, but he couldn't feel a spreckle of warmth or feeling. Petrified and staring at the child with heart-broken ghosts of golden eyes, Mirror's mouth huge agape for a moment as he fought for breath.

"I can't...I can't feel you, child..."

Then he was snapped back to an empty-feeling reality as the priestess's eyes laid upon him. Turning towards her with the likeliness of a hunted animal being pushed into a corner, Mirror digested her last words and nodded slowly.

"Will we come back here afterwards? Willl...?" he asked in a choked trembling voice. The looking down at himself, Mirror swallowed another cry and pressed his hands to his face in grief.