Writing 2014-06-16

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Unlike what might be expected from something as solid as a tree, the silver knife sinks deeply into the tree. Larrikan draws it down with both hands, straight from where it went in to the tree, as far above his head as he could reach, to the ground.

As the knife descends, the wood pulls apart, spreading out to form an opening with a rounded top. The bottom spreads out flatter than the top, forming a nice threshold. A round, dimly lit space is revealed inside.

Larrikan does not wait to see how the door spreads out. He moves around the three to another marked point. He stabs the wood again but does not pull down as far, leaving a round opening.

By the time the sun has fully risen, Larrikan has made four more small cuts, leaving him with a door and five windows, spaced pretty evenly around the tree.

The tree itself shudders, and spreads outwards. It was bigger than it had been when Larrikan started, but it shifts visibly now, rather like dough settling into a pan.

The big physical changes made, Larrikan walks around the tree for several more hours. He cleans up his marked circles of power. He dispells unneeded energies, releasing them back to their elements. He stabilizes and solidifies the spells on the tree.

By early afternoon he finishes. He stands there for a long time simply looking, trying to verify he finished everything. When he is sure he has, he turns, to find Coldwillow watching. He does not speak to her. He goes to his pile of supplies, picks up a stoneware jug, uncorks it, and drinks a long pull from the jug. A little water spills down his chest, and he does not care. Only after a drink does he speak to his mentor. He says, voice worn and hoarse, “You were right. My first plan was too much.”

Coldwillow smiles, and says, “They all are.”

Larrikan gestures to the trees, now showing a nicely sized room, “How does it look?”

“You tell me,” Coldwillow replies.

Larrikan has another long drink before he walks into the new room. He looks farther away than might be expected. He walks back and forth in the space, running his fingers along the smooth living wooden wall. He tells Coldwillow, “Looks good to me. The dimensional shift seems stable, and isn’t too strong.”

Coldwillow steps in after him, admiring the new space. She says, “I think it is enough. Let me get Djarlee, and we’ll check.”

Djarlee is roused, and arrives, excited. He has brought a measuring tape, and cheerfully measures the room. “6.1 meters! Very good! Well over your required minimum!”

Larrikan, who is snacking on some jerky, comments, “Wouldn’t be big enough for the rest of the plan, otherwise.”

Djarlee beams and says, “Just so!”

Coldwillow tells Larrikan, “Congratulations. You are now a Master Mage.” She looks thrilled by this.

Larrikan smiles tiredly, “That’s all there is to it? Cause I’m ready for dinner. And bed.”

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