He could feel it all now. The tiniest fluctuation of the Weave rippled through him, the smallest variation in its delicate matrix twinged in his consciousness. In that fleeting moment, he was not just connected to the Weave or a part of the Weave, he was the Weave. All of it was within him, or he had expanded until all of it was encompassed within his consciousness. He again found himself staring into the unseen face of the Goddess, lurking within the Weave, and her eyes smiled down on him in loving benediction.

Behind him, the Conduit flared with sudden light, a light ten times brighter than the sun, as a choral harmonic arose from it that saturated the air with wonderful music, like a thousand voices singing in perfect harmony at the same time. In that moment, he felt as if he commanded the power of a god. In that moment, he felt absolutely invincible. But then reality regained a foothold within him, and common sense restored his mind to practical dimensions.

With little more than a thought, he released the magic from his command, and it returned to the Weave. The Aeradalla sitting in the chair had slumped back, sleeping a natural sleep. Tarrin opened his eyes, and blew out his breath in weariness.

He had done it.

He remembered how he did it, and he knew that, just like before, all he had to do was do it once. Do it once to show him how. He would have to practice until this new way to use the Weave seemed natural to him, and he still had to learn how to wield regular Sorcery and High Sorcery, but those were simply building blocks set upon the base he had just formed with his power. He had regained access to his Sorcery, and all he needed to do now was practice. In time, he would return to his former ability.

Sarraya had her arms flung over his face, hugging his cheeks as she kissed him exuberantly on the tip of his nose. "I knew you could do it! I knew you had it in you! I'm so proud of you, Tarrin!"

"Well," he said mildly, using a paw to push her to where he could see her, "now I know one thing for certain."

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

She gave him a look, then laughed. "Well, I think we can fix that, in a bit. What about him?"

"He'll sleep until morning, and he won't remember a thing," he told her.

"Now that you have your power again, we can just jaunt on down-"

"It's not that easy, Sarraya," he cut her off. "I figured out how to use Sorcery again, but I need to practice it. It's different than before. I'm not going to be jumping off the edge of the city any time soon, because I don't feel confident enough to do something like that yet. Unless we want to stay up here until I practice enough to get competent, we're still going to need a ride down."

"Oh. I thought that as soon as you managed to figure it out, you'd be like you were before."

"No, not really," he said with a shake of his head. "I still don't know how to use High Sorcery yet. I still have some things to learn. But for now, it's good to know that I've regained at least a portion of my power."

"You think you have enough to get down off the pillar?" she asked. "I'm still wiped out from getting us up here."

"I think I can do that," he replied after a moment. "It's not that far, so I don't think I'll lose my concentration before I'm safely down."

"Good. Let's find someplace to rest, and as soon as I feel up to it, I'll conjure you anything you want to eat. Anything."

"I feel so special," he mused, wiping sweat from his brow. He hadn't sweated since that fateful day he had come into his full power. The effort of his weaving had caused him to sweat, probably out of reflex than out of getting hot. And the sweat was cold in the crisp night air.

They turned and left the crown, forgotten in the excitement, behind. After ruling it out as the Firestaff, it had no more importance to Tarrin, and he had more important things to worry about, things to ponder and things to feel happy about. They left the crown and the Aeradalla behind, who would be protected from the corrupting spell of the crown for another day or so, more than enough time for him to wake up and leave the obelisk. They were out of sight, and they quickly were out of his mind. He had better things to think about than them.

Strange.

Tarrin lounged underneath a discarded old blanket in the twisted alleyways of the lower city, Sarraya curled up asleep up against his side. They'd been there since getting down from the spire, and while Sarraya slept, he had been pondering the reawakening of his power.

It felt… right. There wasn't any words he could use to describe it. This new way to use Sorcery felt right to him, as if the way he'd been doing it before were clunky and inefficient. Primitive, in a way. Weavespinner magic was more pure, simpler, and in a way, easier. The flows resisted him, but then again, Sorcery always did that. Be it a first time novice or a master Sorcerer, the weave always sought to resist any attempt to cause it to come from the strands. But the way he had learned to do it now didn't require a period of drawing in, a charging phase in order to exert force against the magic. Now he could exert the force of his own will against it, very akin to Druidic magic. All he had to do was will it to happen, and provided he didn't lose his concentration, it would happen.

The use of the magic had also taught him a few things. Weavespinner ways carried with them the same limitation that Sorcery had in any form; there was only so much that could be done without High Sorcery. Weavespinner magic wasn't any stronger than standard Sorcery, the only real difference between them laid in the fact that Weavespinner magic exacted a much lighter toll on its use than regular Sorcery. Since it required much less effort on his part, it would allow him to use Weavespinner magic a great deal longer than regular Sorcery. The only limit-up to High Sorcery-that existed was the strength of his own will and the innate magical ability that had awakened within him. But then again, anyone who could reach the level of Weavespinner already had a powerful will, since they had already mastered Sorcery in its standard form. Curious, though, was the fact that the basic ability to contain magic didn't change. Then again, it didn't seem to matter to a Weavespinner, since they didn't hold that power inside. Without that indicator, what marked the limits of a Weavespinner's ability to manage flows? Strength of will? Or did that old threshold hold true for a Weavespinner, the same as it did for a Sorcerer? Did the Sorcerer's natural limit hold true even when dealing with Weavespinner magic? He'd have to experiment to find out.

That absence of internal magic marked another pointed difference between Sorcery and Weavespinner magic. Weavespinner magic could be used on one's self, since there was no magic inside to interfere with the flows forming the spell. There would be no fusing of flows and fizzling of spells. It was how the Sha'Kar woman floated in the air; she had used weaves of Air on herself, and since there was nothing in her aside from High Sorcery, which transcended the limitation of using magic on one's self, there was no disruption of her magic.

Strange that Druidic magic and Weavespinner magic seemed to be related. Sarraya had said that the Weave was part of the All. Was there more of a connection between Sorcery and Druidic magic than that?

A curious question. He'd never find the answer, he suspected, because he was already a Druid. He'd been contaminated by the fact that he could use Druidic magic. If there was more of a connection between them, it wouldn't be him to find it, since he already had the ability to connect with both forms of magic.

The sun was beginning to rise, and with it appeared the first of the silhouettes of the Aeradalla against the steely sky. He hadn't thought much about what he was going to do to try to attract Ariana's attention, but like just about everything he'd done up here so far, he was certain that he'd think of something that looked good, then not consider anything past the next few moments. He'd already painted himself into a corner twice with his short-sightedness, and the sad part was that no matter how fully well he knew that he didn't plan very well, he went right on ahead with the first idea that seemed to solve the problem at hand. Without considering the implications of his actions further down the road. The Cat was a very impulsive creature, and he was faithful to his own instincts.