The Second round of tests would be profoundly different from the first. Edie has to draw protective runes on the walls, and even in a circle underneath the bed. Her back protests at the position, but she’s kept healthy and active. It doesn’t hurt too badly, and she’s willing to take a pinch for Marsha.

She hasn’t seen her granddaughter in twelve or thirteen years…and she can still remember the little girl who used to sit next to her while she painted, handing her little jars of pigment and asking her what she was ‘drawing’ and ‘why that’.

The runes aren’t only for protection, though. They’re also to ensure that no one can interfere in the dreams, not even from within the room. Not even her grandmother. No matter how badly Edie wants to help her, if she does, she dooms her. So she draws the proper runes, as she should.

Marsha sits on the very edge of the bed as her grandmother does so, her heart fluttering in her chest and nearly making her nauseous. She’s dreamed about moments like this all her life. Being inducted into a magical world, though at the time, she had believed them dreams and impossibilities.

Now, she knows it’s all real-- magic is real. Monsters-- or rather magical beings that are somewhat more than human-- are real.

Edie finishes the runes. “Stay here, I will return shortly. You need a focus for this.”

Marsha folds her hands in her lap and goes through a breathing exercise as her grandmother leaves the room.

Edie beelines for her ‘art room’ which is actually her glamoured ‘work room’. She has a shed out back that serves as a laboratory for new concoctions, but tried and true things are done in the work room. It’s also where she stores all of her tools. Keeping them in one place makes it easier to hide. She could simply glamour the door to the room away and no one would be the wiser, after all.

She opens a cabinet that is much bigger on the inside than the outside. One of the many little ‘pockets’ that Aetherials use for storage or living inside of. They were difficult to find, but very plentiful. One had to study for years before they learned how to capture and contain a pocket.

As she looks through the many large chests, filled with smaller chests-- she is thankful that her ancestors dedicated themselves to just about every discipline imaginable. That she should even have a treasure such as this, is a gift.

Plucking out the most likely suspects, she plants the small wooden chests on the floor and then uses a stirring of magic to pick them up and sweep them through the doorway. It causes sweat to bead on her forehead to carry them all the way through the house, but it’s much easier to simply suffer through it rather than have to carry each individual chest.

Setting them before Marshas’ door, she reaches out and turns the knob, opening it and smiling when Marsha looks up at her.

“If you wouldn’t mind putting all these on the bed?” her grandmother asks, and Marsha rushes to comply.

She’s actually quite happy her grandmother knows how to simply ask for things instead of implying what she wants and then expecting Marsha to understand. As her mother did. That was infuriating. She never knew if she should be doing something or not. If her mother had asked her to do something and she’d simply missed it.

Marsha picks up the wooden chests, one by one. They’re heavy, like they’re filled with rocks. And she struggles to lift them up on the bed, but she finally gets all of them on there and she worries about how her grandmother carried them over.

Edie walks over to the bed and flips the lids open, revealing a collection of gems – about eighty in number, in each box. Marsha’s eyes widen. They’re the greatest number of gems she’s ever seen in her life. And she can only tell there are probably eighty because her grandmother pulls the base up and out, and it accordions into one of those jewelry box display shelf things. Each one with twenty gems and there’s about four shelves in each one. So yeah…eighty.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Edie asks.

“Gods, Grandma,” Marsha exclaims. “Are those real!?”

Edie smiles. It’s understandable. She breathes deeply and her smile falls away.

“Well,” she says, “as beautiful as these gems are they’re not here solely for your admiration. One of these gems is going to be your focus for as long as you are taking the test. Sometimes, people have a hard time finding the one gem that’ll be their focus. It’s okay. You can make multiple choices until you come to that one gem. You can start with the most common first—”

Marsha’s thoughts drown out Edie’s voice.

‘There’s so many,’ she thinks as she stares at them. But she feels…a tugging sensation in her hand. Her chest. Her self. She has no way of describing it other than a ‘tug’. Moving forward, she surveys each chest, until she determines the tug is coming from the one on the far right. Then she slowly drifts until she’s right before it.

Edie has since stopped talking, sensing that something is happening with Marsha. She doesn’t want to break it, whatever it is.

Marsha doesn’t know how she can tell, but it’s like a silent sound that resonates deep within her chest. She reaches in and grasps a black opal with fiery orange inclusions creating the effect of a ball of molten magma encased in glass. The moment she touches it, a shiver runs through her body.

‘Mine,’ she thinks, pulling it out of the display divot and allowing the stone to settle in the palm of her hand. It was about the size of the largest pearl she’d ever seen. Not quite big enough to fill her whole palm, though. Something about that was wrong, but she didn’t know how to express it.

“Are you certain?” her grandmother asks. Shocked at the speed and surety in Marshas’ movements. Almost as though she’d known before the choosing even began and she’d just been searching for the stone she knew was there…

Marsha nods. Staring down at the Focus, transfixed.

The back door suddenly opens, and Marsha and her grandmother both turn to look through the doorway of the Guest room.

Navisdan strides through the house, and pauses in the living room when he sees them. His brows furrowing at the Focus he can see resting upon Marshas’ palm.

“A focus,” he says, slightly confused and turns to Edie with a quizzical look. He doesn’t need to spell it out. He and Edie both know the implications. Those who pass the preliminary just barely, don’t need a focus. They have no magical ability, or at least no ‘desire’ for magical ability.

The fact that she should need a focus, speaks volumes on its own.

“Flying colors,” Edie replies. “Literally, in fact. It was…quite beautiful.” There are tears in her eyes and she doesn’t have to tell Navisdan that they’re there due to happiness, pride, relief. He knows how he would feel if Vanisdan were taken from him, and then given back with less damage than he’d feared, done to their soul.

“So she is eligible for the second round of testing,” Navisdan says, relaxing slightly. “I shall wish thee luck.”

But he doesn’t just say it, he steps forward. Edie holds Marshas’ arm and says, “it’s ritualistic to wish someone luck, just bear with it for a moment.”

Marsha is suddenly quite excited to see what this ‘ritual’ entails.

Navisdan steps forward, cocking his head at the lack of fear, trepidation, anxiety. She even seems eager, bending slightly forward, waiting to see what he will do.

Reaching a hand up and placing his thumb directly in the center of her forehead. The rest of his fingertips lying across the side of her head. Clawed tips kept carefully away from her scalp. The claw on his thumb bites very gently into her skin, but he can’t really help that. He’s amazed that she isn’t even flinching. But then, he’s come across adoptees who would have given anything to be part of their world.

The point of contact where his claw bites her skin, drips with a single drop of blood. He removes his hand and the drop becomes lines of beautiful filigree. Outlining a teardrop shape in red in the dead center of her forehead. It glimmers with power.

He considers it a small, paltry gift-- in exchange for his beloved child’s life. But it is all he can give at the moment. Anything more could be dangerous, if she were to fail this test. So he blesses her with the mark and steps away.

“I’ll be more than glad to welcome her to the community if she passes these tests,” Navisdan says. “The test should be done now. We have to minimize the time which she has to forget and therefore, the risk of exposure. In case the worst should come to pass.”

Navisdan inspects the room, ensuring that the necessary spells are in place, the equipment required is present, and everything else is in order. Though he does it without having to move or even glance around. He can feel the runes, the shape of them and what they mean. He can even feel how the Focus is activated and ready. Edie has been quite thorough.

“Thou may begin,” he says. “I will assemble the council. We will take hold of her consciousness once she is asleep. It could take time as people tend to find it difficult to sleep when excited or anxious, even with magical assistance.”

Edie bobs her head in acknowledgment. The meaning is clear.

As a Councilor of Direth, Marsha’s grandmother has done a litany of favors for most of the other members. In return, they’ve decided to handle Marsha’s test personally. A show of respect and familiarity. Caring.

Normally, random people would act out and analyze the test. Marsha is oblivious to this, of course. But Edie feels extreme gratitude. The council are never without a task at hand. They’re almost always at the table, discussing, exchanging ideas, debating on what to do for the benefit of their people.

Yet, they’d taken time out of their schedules to watch her granddaughter take the adoption test. It’s an honor, a gesture of respect and Edie doesn’t hesitate to show Navisdan her gratitude with a low bow.

He steps out of the room then, leaving the two of them alone.

Edie glances at Marsha and sighs. “I apologize for the quick and overwhelming nature of all of this. I know thee would likely need days, or perhaps weeks, to come to terms with…everything. But we do not have the luxury of time to give thee, if we wish to remain safe. Not even with mine influence and thy connection to me.”

Non-Aetherial humans going through adoptions always thought connections meant something. If their cousin was Aetherial, it wasn’t fair to them that they should have to pass a test while said cousin was born into it.

“I understand,” Marsha says. She’s hidden things from her parents since she was old enough to understand what hiding was. Sometimes it just wasn’t safe to tell anyone, not even your best friend. Because her parents would eventually find out.

And that never ended well.

“Are you ready?” Edie asks.

Marsha looks up at her grandmother, and nods.