“This is NJ,” Regis said. “She’s chosen the language of magic for her discipline, and we have her studying under China Sorrows.”
“Miss Sorrows is a wonderful teacher,” NJ said, eyes wide. “She really is so good at this. I’ll never be half as good as she is. That’s what she keeps telling me. She’s magnificent.”
Regis sighed. “NJ is a little enamoured of Miss Sorrows at the moment.”
Ravel smiled as NJ blushed. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there, believe me. Most of us are still there, if we’re being honest. But how about you put all your doubts out of your head for the moment, and show us what you can do?”
NJ nodded. “Yes. Yes, sir.”
She took an ornate pen from a silver case, and pressed it to one of the merlons. The tip of the pen began to glow, and it carved through the stone like it was made of butter. NJ may have been nervous, but her hand was sure, and she completed the sigil without a single hesitation. Once it was finished, she repeated the process on the next merlon.
She checked her work, blew on the pen then put it back in its silver case. She pressed the first sigil and it glowed, and when she took her finger away there was some kind of transparent film attached to it. She drew the film all the way across the crenel, and touched it against the second sigil, where it held. The film shimmered in the strong wind, but through it the surrounding countryside was magnified.