[ magic, to elrond, is a strange concept. magic exists, of course. it is woven into the creation of the world, in the sun and the moon. it is woven into the trees and seas. magic can be crafted into jewels or bled into song. but this mechanisation of magic, in rote and word is new. now there are spells and it is a craft, to be hemmed and hewed by initiates.
and thus, he finds himself a little at a loss. can magic become so mundane?
the sound of alicent's voice has him raising his head with a polite smile. he is dressed in soft blues, in waves and he has fashioned a small but cheap broach of a star upon his chest to pin his cloak. ]
I'm afraid I am an unguided learner. I am merely dipping my toes in.
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and thus, he finds himself a little at a loss. can magic become so mundane?
the sound of alicent's voice has him raising his head with a polite smile. he is dressed in soft blues, in waves and he has fashioned a small but cheap broach of a star upon his chest to pin his cloak. ]
I'm afraid I am an unguided learner. I am merely dipping my toes in.