Ren eyed the small stack of papers covered in the incomprehensible scrawl. After a moment, he smirked, eyeing Yona carefully. "You want to make me a sorcerer?"
Shaking her head softly, Yona let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "If that's what you wish to call it."
"How do I do it? Use these… Inscriptions?" Ren asked, standing and walking over to the desk. "That's what you call it, yes? To Inscribe?"
After a moment, Yona sighed. "With intention, young Elren. These Inscriptions are a language, the language. Words so true that given just a little power, they redefine the world around us."
Ren plucked a scrapped paper from the pile. "You can read these?"
There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Well, as silent as a rumbling cart could be. Then Yona shook her head. "No man can read the language of the Creators, young Elren. No man could understand them purely and not be mad – Or Divine."
Ren's eyes narrowed. "You want to understand the language of the Creators. "
Yona held out her hand, her palm flashing with a gentle gold color. The Binding Mark. Of course. Of course she was of the Fourth Mark; Ren had surmised as much about Leonidas only hours earlier. "Hand over the paper, child."
Looking at the odd patterns of Ink carefully streaked and marked and dotted along the paper her held, Ren slowly handed it back. "... You're attempting to become some sort of Divine being, aren't you?"
The woman took the paper carefully, then held it up, inspecting it. "Why were men giving Ink if not to Ascend? Why give them minds if they are not to find wisdom in the Creation of all things?"
Scoffing, Ren folded his arms across his chest. "I didn't come for a lesson on philosophy."
"No. You didn't." She turned the paper again, holding it between two fingers, its age and Ink keeping the small strip upright. "But it is important. Tell me, in Lilac Sky, what are the Pillars of Creation?"
"You already know this, sorce– Er, Lady Yona." Ren placed his palms flat on the desk and leaned forward. "Just tell me what you're getting at."
"The Seventh and Sovereign Pillar. It has long been strange to me that it equivocates wisdom and intelligence, when they are very, very different things. Ah, I digress. Intellect implies intent, young Elren. And intent is what drives Inscription."
"So I just… Scratch Valisite along paper with… Intent?"
Yona hummed, that gentle smile on her lips. "Something like that." She placed the paper on the table. "But being of your First Mark, maybe you can recognize something of this."
Ren looked back down at the paper, activating his mark… And… Somehow… Patterns began to emerge. Lines that flowed into another, circles that interlocked with the fabric of creation…
Yona grabbed Ren's hand, forcing his attention back to her. "Careful, child. Even the scholars from my homeland dare not study the script without purpose. You only see what the strength of your Spirit allows."
Meeting Yona's gaze, Ren nodded. "... I see," he muttered, "I assume I'll go insane if I try to study it too long?"
Yona nodded. That was all the confirmation he needed.
"Who else studies these… Inscriptions?"
"Most of the Garden," Yona said softly, "Because I make them."
"The Garden?"
"Yes, our caravan, young Elren. The Garden of Roses." She smiled, then pushed the paper to his hands once more. "Now, to use an Inscription, one must understand what it's trying to say… And then speak the closest words to its meaning."
Ren frowned, eyeing the paper cautiously. "I'm supposed to understand it without studying it?"
"Delightful, isn't it?" She nodded, "Go ahead, hold it. Use it."
Picking up the paper, Ren pointedly did not reach out to his Mark, looking at the scrawl while simultaneously trying not to. It split his mind, trying to do two opposite actions at once. 'How can I understand it if I can't even look at it?' Still, he held it, tracing his fingers along the paper. Finally, he closed his eyes. "Passage."
Ren fell through the floor and onto the dirt below.
He landed roughly, tumbling into the dirt as the carriage rolled past him… With his mask still in it. Groaning, he shook his head. Just his luck that the paper he'd picked out would emulate his Mark. Of course. Outcast in Ink, of course he had to pluck that one. Getting to his knees, he brushed himself off, dirt and stones clung to his pants and robes, had embedded themselves into his skin.
He leaned back raising his eyes to the midday sky. 'Pillars…' He looked down, only to find that the paper had turned to ash in his hands. "Pillars…" Did everything have to go wrong for him?
Standing, he began walking back toward Yona's rolling office, activating his Mark for a bit of strength and speed, he jumped through the back wall and landed inside the cabin. "You could've told me that's what it did." Yona, already sitting against the desk, waiting for Ren to arrive through the back wall, laughed. Laughed. Ren scowled, holding his hands in front of him. "I'm just praying to the Creators that nobody saw my face."
Relaxing her breath, Yona stood straight and pulled another paper from the pile. "The only ones who fall this far behind the group are the ones who have good reason. In other words, when my husband tells my children to fetch me."
At that exact moment, the door swung open again. As if on queue, it was Evelyn, who, true to her own word, had a small bundle of strips of smoked and salted meat, dried to keep. After finishing a bite herself, she looked at the scene, raised an eyebrow, and dropped the bundle on Yona's desk. "He pull out the Inscription of Passage?" She asked between bites, studying Ren once again. "Looks like he fell through the floor like Silas did when he was eight."
Groaning, Ren turned to Yona. "Is it that obvious?"
Before Yona could speak, though, Evelyn had closed the door and spoke up again. "Yes. You somehow look worse than when we found you this morning." She hummed, took another bite and a long chew, and sat on the bench Ren had once occupied. "I'm not sure if it suits you or if we need to stop by a river to bathe you."
Rolling his eyes, Ren turned back to Yona. "So, what? I fall out of the carriage and now what?"
The older woman grabbed Ren's mask from her desk. "While you were outside, I finished the Inscription that will be within your mask. Well… The outline of it. If you're willing to wait the next hours, we'll have your mask with and Inscription of Concealment ready."
Evelyn grinned. "What, we can't see his pretty face anymore?"
Fixing Evelyn with a flat stare, Ren raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to deal with her anymore. What had Silas called it again? Odd whims? Still, it's not like she was trying to be rude. She had complimented him, after all. Even if it was in that backhanded way of court politics. "That's the point, princess."
She stood up, walking over to him. "Oh, it looks like mister Venture has found himself a spine!"
"You know my name." Ren responded, meeting her challenge, standing only feet apart. He wasn't going to give them another victory again. Not if he didn't have to. "And yet you insist on the public one Silas gave me."
Tilting her head, Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Perhaps I just want to keep my people safe."
"I think," Ren responded, "You just want to anger me."
Evelyn smirked. "Is it working?"
Yona cut in. "Evie."
The younger woman laughed, then grabbed another strip of meat, and sat back down on the bench, smoothing her skirt with prim posture, and smugly ripped a chunk of meat from the strip.
Shaking her head, Yona nodded back down at Ren's mask. "Now, young Elren. You'll help me Inscribe your mask."
Opening a drawer on the desk and plucking a brush from the wall, Yona carefully lifted a small jar of Valisite Ink from the desk, uncorking it and gently placing it on the desk. She dipped the brush in, then placed it in Ren's hand. "Do you see the outline I've made in charcoal?"
Ren nodded. "Is it really that hard just to paint lines?"
Yona hummed. "Begin, and you may see."
Carefully, Ren placed the tip of the brush to the mask, and as he began to drag the bristles across it, Ren's mark activated against his will, draining him of his energy even as moved it across. What should have been a simple task had grown immensely difficult, as if he were pulling against a string that didn't want him writing this strange language. After struggling, with little success, to move it, Ren dropped the brush and shook his head. "It's not working."
"And what's your intent, young Elren?" Yona asked quietly, "Just to place Ink on wood?"
"Well, that's what I'm doing." Ren sighed, and Evelyn, across the cabin, snorted. He glared at her, then turned back to Yona. "Isn't that the right intent?"
Yona shook her head. "I approximated anonymity. You must find the intent of the Inscription. You are not writing lines, you are writing anonymity itself."
Lips curling down at the corners, Ren picked up the brush again, and tried to follow the charcoal again. But this time, he attempted to keep his mind away from the task itself, and tried to conjure this phantom idea of anonymity. Yet still, his brush refused to move. After minutes of struggle, Ren dropped the brush again. "I don't get it. I don't know why it's not working."
"Have you ever felt invisible, young Elren?"
After a moment, Ren shook his head. "...No."
Yona nodded. "How can you conjure the idea of being unseen if you've never experienced it?"
Ren bit back his tongue, unwilling to respond.
"And such is the second part of Inscription. Intelligence must be met with the wisdom of experience, or both are incomplete. Intent, child, is about both the ability to understand conceptually, and the truth of the experience." Yona took the mask and the brush, and gently traced the charcoal outline she'd placed on the wood. Easily.
After a moment, Ren leaned back against the wall and sighed. "So, that's it, then? It's done? Can I go now?"
Evelyn stood back up, strode over to the desk, bent over to check her mother's inscription, then looked back up at Ren. "No. Now, you have to wait for the Ink to dry. If it doesn't set, it won't work."
Ren groaned.