( he sucks in a sharp breath. what's most strange to him is not that it works...
the scent is all wrong. aspen knows, is comforted by the distinct scent of lemongrass in his spells. the fog that is his amnesia almost seems to abate when he does it - and he feels closer to a home he never truly knew.
so the scent of magic was tied to the soul, then? that must be why there was mint in the air instead of lemon. as aches and pains ebb, he flexes his hand, curling his fingers into a loose fist. )
If I were an academic... I think I'd lose my mind by what just happened. No one has ever been able to tell where the scent in one's magic came from, but... it clearly isn't the body.
Are you sure you don't have some sort of wind magic?
no subject
the scent is all wrong. aspen knows, is comforted by the distinct scent of lemongrass in his spells. the fog that is his amnesia almost seems to abate when he does it - and he feels closer to a home he never truly knew.
so the scent of magic was tied to the soul, then? that must be why there was mint in the air instead of lemon. as aches and pains ebb, he flexes his hand, curling his fingers into a loose fist. )
If I were an academic... I think I'd lose my mind by what just happened. No one has ever been able to tell where the scent in one's magic came from, but... it clearly isn't the body.
Are you sure you don't have some sort of wind magic?