Hours pass for Envoy. As she periodically checks on her new charge, she notices that the numerous puncture wounds from the tubing have completely healed over in under six hours. So, he must have a fairly accelerated metabolism for that to occur. During this time she started making a list of items she would like purchased and brought to her, as well as spent a bit of time in futile attempts to get her implants to do anything other than glow at her. Around hour eight, she feels a light touch on the small of her back…

"Meep!" Envoy chirps, not having expected the touch. She turns around, expecting Icarus to be awake.

Sure enough, his arm is outstretched from his bed and it was his fingers that touched her back. "So, you are real," he says. His voice seems a bit fuller now, not so achy and weak. He even manages to sit upright and swing his legs off the bed without help.

"Yes, how was your sleep?" Envoy asks, glad he didn't try yanking on her tail. "Did you dream?"

"A little," Icarus says as he yawns. My he does have pointy teeth. "But they didn't make much sense. Strange shapes with leathery wings. Lots of chatter in a language I don't know. Even these weird creatures that look like you, only with crown-like crystals growing out of their heads appeared here and there. Strange," he remarks. "And I feel so much better than I did yesterday. I don't feel all groggy and sore."

"Fascinating," Envoy mutters. "Are you hungry again?"

"Do you mean that?" Icarus asks as his head tilts a bit to the side. The second question earns a nod as he says, "Yes, I am. But … all you have this that horrible stuff, right?"

"Yes, because I don't dream," Envoy says. "At least, not like normal people do. It sounds like you saw… Sifras, maybe. Morpheus has leathery wings, too." She shows Icarus her supply list, saying, "I have lots of different foods requested, along with clothes and proper cooking utensils. Can you read this?"

Icarus takes the paper and squints at it. The hybrid then turns it this way and that. "No … " he says hesitantly, and then his ears splay. "Or maybe yes. I … it looked like gibberish at first, but then words started making sense randomly … "

"You don't have strong associations yet for your memory, so things you know but never used will come to you as needed," Envoy surmises. "Also, did the chattering you hear sound like this: The sky is purple with balloons of ochre morning wind," she asks, the last part spoken in Aelfin.

"It did for the people with weird pointy head stuff," Icarus says and waves around his own head for emphasis. "But not like the first things with leathery wings."

"Things, plural?" Envoy asks. "Like… do you know what a bat is?"

"Bat, bat," Icarus mutters to himself. "Bat … oh, yeah, it kind of looked like those. Everything was all hazy, though, I didn't get a good look at them."

"What about colors?" Envoy asks. "Do you remember any colors? Like… hair and body?"

"Am I dreaming this stuff because my mind is trying to actually sort through what's in it?" Icarus asks as he pushes himself onto his feet from the bed. "It's really frustrating, Envoy. One moment I don't know anything, the next it just comes to me. But if I try to remember when I learned about it, I feel like I hit a wall. The more I try to remember, the harder it gets to focus," he grumbles as he starts to pace. "I feel … incomplete. That's the word." He sighs and looks towards the worn ceiling. "I can try to remember. Let me think," he adds.

"Yes, it disconcerting when you have a lot of knowledge that you don't know about until… you know it," Envoy agrees. "It may help to think of it as if you have a tiny librarian in your head that goes and fetches you the proper book without you even really asking."

"One of the blobs was white-ish, I think," Icarus offers, "The other brownish. Maybe tan. It's really hard to remember details."

"Is it important?" Icarus asks.

Envoy stiffens. "Yes, it's important," she says. "I think you got a glimpse of the Eeee goddesses Inala and Barada. I hope they did not sense you though. That would be bad."

"Goddess? Those things aren't real, right? The word means fictional being to me," Icarus says as he pushes his mess of tangled hair out of his face. "Why would it be bad if they sensed me?"

"Because before I woke you up, there was a ghost event – a replay of a combat test, where one of your predecessors released a huge burst of gravitational flux," Envoy explains. "A lot of beings noticed it because… well, they were watching me, I suspect. The Goddesses of the Eeee city of Babel, on Sinai, want to help their city be great again – and due to their nature they equate that with military might. They pointed me towards this place, in a way, because they wanted weapons to do that. They'd consider you a weapon, and try to take you."

"Is that all? " Icarus asks, "You would stop them, right? I'm in no real danger while I'm with you, am I?"

"I… may not be able to stop them," Envoy admits. "You see, I don't have any offensive abilities, and even if I did I'd only use them in desperation. I think I need to teach you how to control your powers so you can defend yourself."

"But … what if I never learned how? Wouldn't I just be useless to them and they would leave me alone?" Icarus asks.

"No, they'd take you apart and try to reproduce your abilities in someone more cooperative," Envoy notes. "They aren't any better than the man who created you, Icarus. They don't care about you as a person at all – only in how to control you."

Icarus takes a step back and his ears flatten. "I didn't ask for any of this," he says, "I'm not just a weapon. I don't want to hurt people. I can't explain why I don't … I just don't." His hands clench, then unclench as he breaths. "Are most people not like these 'Eeee' and the man who made me?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, most people are," Envoy says reassuringly. "It is only those who seek to use power for their own purposes that you have to watch for. Unfortunately, to protect yourself you need to understand how to control your power, and that very thing will make you more attractive to those people."

"You don't want to use my powers, right?" Icarus actually asks.

"If I could find a way to suppress them, I would be happier," Envoy admits. "They get in the way of you being happy, I think. And they can be very destructive, which is something I personally need to avoid having access to."

"So you do want to use them. It's tempting, isn't it?" Icarus asks. "Thank you for being honest about that."

"Yes, it is tempting, but I know where that temptation leads," Envoy points out, then jots "Cookbook, plumber's tools and a book on plumbing" onto her supply list. "When you have that sort of power, it is only a matter of time before you see ways to use it in order to solve problems or 'fix' things. I was created by a dragon, so I have to be extra aware of how I use power."

"I promise to try to learn enough so that you can never use me, nor anyone else," Icarus says and even offers a weak smile. "That's almost as good as not having them at all, right?"

"Then you just have to worry about your own motivations," Envoy says with a grin. "Now, let's post this list, make you some breakfast, and then I'll show you some magic to see what you can learn from it, okay?"

"Sure," Icarus says. "I just wish I could take a bath, too. I still smell like that blue goo."

"The pipes are all rusty, so you'd end up dirtier," Envoy notes. "But… you could use a rag and wash with that… "

The list is checked over a couple more times, then Envoy takes Icarus out of the base for the first time. He just stares at the surroundings in awe. Perhaps it is one thing that's universal, when a new mind sees just how large the world is … it shows in every part of their being. The letter is posted and she has to drag him back into the base for breakfast. The food ends up a little better with Envoy's attempt at making porridge. Unfortunately, his bowels still don't agree much with it and fifteen minutes after eating, he had to dart off to the bathroom again. Once he's sure all the unpleasantness is gone, he goes to join Envoy in the upper bay.

The bay itself is mostly empty. There are still rusting metal crates here and there and several massive metal beams that were left behind. The scaffolding and the old cranes still remain as well.

"I hope that gets better," Icarus complains as he joins the Aeolun. "I don't want every meal to turn into a stench explosion."

"I think some meat will help with that," Envoy notes. "That is, if I can cook it without poisoning you." She is setting out crystals in a circle around herself. "I want you to watch and remember what you see and perceive with your crystal sense," she tells him.

"I hope some of it will make sense to me," Icarus admits. "Should I sit far away?"

"Not too far," Envoy says, "unless you feel that you are reacting to the process in some way. If you feel something like that, tell me immediately."

Icarus sits a few feet outside of the circle and curls his tail around. He can't help but pick it up and fiddle with its tip as he watches.

Visualizing the three-dimensional 'circle' that she wants, Envoy begins singing a Gravity ritual, deciding to do something that might be appropriate to Icarus' own talents. How will I explain phase-space and directed quantum wave function collapse to him? she briefly wonders, before putting all of her focus into the spell.

The crystals around her react in much the same way as they did when she worked her stone-skin ritual. They sweep up into the air, shift about, and construct the three-dimensional enchantment circle around her. Icarus' eyes go wide has he watches this. The weak level of magic on this world makes the ritual take some time to craft, but she feels the familiar spell begin to echo in the ring of crystal around her. "Localized phase shift constructed," the crystals chime in Aelfin, "Isolating strong and weak force interaction waveforms. Desired transform function requested and sub-target id required."

Envoy sings vector formulas, and targets one of the heavy metal crates. Establish forced orbit while nullifying prime gravitational vector, she sings, wanting to render the target weightless without having the laws of angular momentum send it crashing into the ceiling.

"Target quantum signature isolated and cataloged," the crystals chime, "Isolating binding forces and space-time warp. Disassociating matter interactions." The familiar warp of gravity ripples along Envoy's ritual and she can feel the crate lose its gravitational interaction with the surrounding mass of the planet. With the spell in effect, Envoy asks Icarus, "How does that crate over there look to you now?" as she starts walking towards it.

"That's … really strange," Icarus whispers, wide-eyed. "I can see something around it. It's like there is … water cutting through nearly invisible threads all around it. Can I come closer?"

"Yes," Envoy says, as she reaches out to grab onto the corner of the crate… and give it a lift. It may be weightless, but it still has inertia, so she's careful.

It takes some effort to over-come the crate's moment, but up the crate goes. It also takes a bit of effort to keep it from going too far. Icarus gets to his feet and walks over. His spotted tail flicks around behind him nervously. "The threads around it … they look alive, like they're trying to grab that crate, but whatever is around it keeps them from getting any grip."

"Well, they still restrain it a bit," Envoy notes. "Any point on the surface of Abaddon is moving at nearly a thousand miles per hour in a circle, after all. If all of the gravitational force on this object were negated, it would shoot off in a straight line. So some of the force is still used to keep it in orbit around Abaddon."

"Try pushing on it, lightly. It still has more mass than you, so you need to exert a lot of force to move it," Envoy notes.

Icarus reaches out and pushes on the crate. As he does, Envoy suddenly feels an odd echo ripple through her own ritual as the crate moves easily under his touch. If Envoy had to explain the sensation, is it as if his touch altered her ritual subtly, so that the forces on once side were reduced further, while the forces on the other increased enough to move the crate. So he isn't exactly pushing it with muscle, but by some sort of manipulation of the forces around it. When he stops pushing, the odd echo also stops. "That didn't seem too hard," he says worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it means you are subtly interacting with the spell, and altering it," Envoy says, impressed. "Can you feel how it works, Icarus? Enough to be able to reproduce it yourself?"

"I … don't know," Icarus admits. "I feel something, but I'm not sure how I would create it? Do I have to sing like you did? Just visualize it? Concentrate?" He sounds completely lost.

"Let's try visualization to begin with," Envoy notes, and steps away from the crate. "Come back here next to me, first."

Icarus nods and walks over to stand near Envoy. "If I really mess this up or fail, I hope you won't be mad," he says nervously.

"First, I want to try what you just did myself," Envoy says, and sings to the spell, using one voice to control the force differential on one side and the second to alter it on the opposite side, creating a gradient for the crate to 'fall' along.

The feel in her ritual is similar to what she felt when he touched the crate. And sure enough, the crate glides to the side without anything touching it as it follows the vocal contour in space.

Envoy tapers off the gradient to bring the crate to a stop. "If all else fails, we could go into business building pyramids," she tells Icarus. "Now it's your turn to move it without touching it. Visualize those lines of force you saw flowing around the crate, and then… look at the lines coming out of your own hands. I want you to use your hands to cast those lines into the ones around the crate, and make your own cage of force around it."

Icarus bites his lip. His head rocks from side to side and he shakes out his fingers as he 'prepares' himself. He extends his hands out before him and concentrates. His ears flick and then splay … and Envoy certainly feels something. It's like a song sung out of tune; it wavers and dances around the actual notes, but only hits them now and then. The crate before them wavers and shakes … then takes a wobbly path through space as it follows its unstable path. "Everything keeps moving," he mutters, "I can't hold the threads straight."

"Find the harmonic," Envoy says, and starts singing through a series of tones, while watching Icarus' face to see if any of them suddenly help him smooth out his control.

The tones do seem to help calm Icarus down if nothing else. As he relaxes, the movement smooths out. "Oh, instead of forcing it back, I have to let it settle then try again," he asks, "Less forcing, I think? More … resonance? Does that make sense?"

"Yes, you don't want to fight the natural forces, you want to interfere constructively and destructively with them," Envoy advises. "Can you try singing the tone that worked? You have a good voice. And I don't suppose you ever flew a kite in that virtual dream world of yours?"

"Secondary resonance source detected," the crystals behind Envoy chime in Aelfin. "Waveform is unstable. Assist and compensate?" they query her.

"Assist if catastrophic failure is immanent," Envoy instructs, wanting to give Icarus more time to stabilize it on his own.

Icarus swallows when he's asked to sing. His jaw parts slightly and his throat starts to vibrate. Surprisingly, he does seem capable of generating a clear tone, though it is nowhere near as precise as Envoy's own. As it slowly goes up the vocal scale, the crate movement smooths out further until he hits a note that reminds Envoy very much of what she sung. It is only subtly different to her sharp ears. The crate is now moving side to side smoothly.

Smiling, Envoy says, "Keep relaxed, breath smoothly. That will help. You are doing very well, considering you are working completely on intuition with no control ritual."

"Thank you. I wish I could explain what I'm doing," Icarus admits as he stops the tone for a moment. Absently he closes his right hand while talking. It's then that the crystals behind her declare, "Warning! Pinpoint gravity well detected on central axis of target, matter implosion imminent! Attempting to compensate!" The crate before then buckles as a horrible groan of metal fatigue fills the bay. Then in the blink of an eye, its as if an invisible hand reached in and crushed the crate as if it were a tin can. It's now only about two feet across and looks like a mangled sphere of metal. Icarus squeaks loudly and jumps backward! The former crate falls to the floor with a loud clang. His ears immediately wilt and his hands drop to his side. "Sorry," he whispers, "I think I screwed up."

"Hmmm," Envoy says, nonplussed. "You need more practice, certainly, but it is a good start. We just won't jump into attempting any defensive force bubbles around yourself just yet, okay?" she adds, patting Icarus on the back.

"You're not mad?" Icarus asks. "You make it look so … easy. Am I defective?"

"Icarus, most Mages take years before they can attempt a Gravity Manipulation spell, and of those only a few can do more than make something hover," Envoy explains. "And nobody has gotten a gravity enchanted object to move like that before today, as far as I know. You are only one day old, after all. You can not expect to run before you walk."

"I don't want to be a disappointment," Icarus admits as he rubs his left arm with his right. "Maybe I was just able to do that because I didn't know it was supposed to be hard. I don't know." It's then his stomach rumbles and he sighs. "I need to get something to eat again, I think. It made me hungry."

"I doubt that the supplies will show up until tomorrow, but… " Envoy says, thinking. "Maybe I can grind up the biscuits again and make pancakes for you!" she suggests, looking excited at the prospect.