The memory of the magic was quite fresh, and he could still feel the tingles of the magical residue. He had never had so sensitive a feel for magic before. He hadn't been able to feel that before, but then again, he knew that everything about his magic was different now. He had little doubt that such a sensitive feel for magic was common for Weavespinners, since from what he'd managed to piece together, they were much more attuned to magic than other kinds of magicians. He couldn't make magic yet, but he knew that he had already awakened some parts of his magical ability, and this sensitivity had to be one of them.
He touched the amulet around his neck and found that the sensation of active magic was quite different, kind of like a buzzing sensation along his fingers as they touched the black metal. Touching it made him realize that he'd been feeling it for days now, rides, but the weight of the amulet and its presence, and everything that had happened, had made him ignore or overlook the sensations that the amulet caused in him. The metal felt alive to him, and in a way, he guessed that it was. His touch told him many things about the amulet. That the magic that made it was ancient beyond understanding, from before the Blood War, and that it had been re-enchanted recently to add to its basic abilities. One of them, he knew, was the magic that kept it around his neck. He picked through the magical abilities of the amulet more closely, realizing that it was enchanted to do more than he thought that it could.
That surprised him. He thought that he knew everything of which the amulet was capable. The magic was ancient, but it was still powerful, so powerful that it survived the magical rupture of the Breaking. He closed his eyes and delved into the amulet, sorting through its many magical enchantments, magicks laid down successively over thousands of years. Almost as if every owner of the amulet had added his or her own personal addition to its magic before passing it on to the next. The roots of its magic were founded in the dimmest past, thousands of years before the Blood War, during the time of the True Ancients. A time during which nobody knew its history. That startled him. The amulet around his neck had to be one of the most ancient relics on the face of Sennadar!
Most of the enchantments within had faded or lost their potency over the years, but some of them were still active, still strong. The elsewhere was its primary function, the original enchantment created into the amulet, but inspection of those magical enchantments told him that he hadn't even scratched the surface of the true power of the amulet's abilities in that direction. Searching through the weaves of creation showed him their pattern, and he found that he could read those patterns like a book, read them to understand how they worked. The elsewhere as he used it was its basic operation, what took no active will on the part of the wearer. What he didn't know was that the wearer could banish to or summon from that elsewhere any object held or worn, with nothing but the will for it to happen. The elsewhere was a non-place, but it behaved like a real place in respect to the objects stored within it. They had physical location, so objects couldn't be placed in the same area within it. That meant that if he had something in the elsewhere that had gone there from his left paw, he couldn't send something else into the elsewhere from that same paw. Something would already be occupying that area of elsewhere. He also couldn't send more into the elsewhere that, when taken all together, weighed more than he did. That was its limit. Size or volume were no barriers, it was its weight that mattered. He also found that nothing alive could be sent into the elsewhere. He found that by concentrating on it, he could sense what was within the elsewhere at any time he desired, an inventory of sorts of what he was carrying, and where it was in respect to knowing where and how it would appear when it was summoned forth.
Tarrin blinked. How clever! Whoever made the magic of the amulet had done an incredible job! It was no surprise that it had survived thousands of years, had even survived the Breaking.
That was the first of its abilities. The second was the ability to communicate over distance, placed within it after the Blood War, during what most called the Age of Power. What he knew was that it worked from amulet to amulet, like how he communicated with his sisters. What he didn't know was that its power originated from his amulet, and that it could be used to communicate with anyone who wore a Sorcerer's Amulet, and whose name he knew. The amulets of his sisters were probably the exact same as his. Little did they know that they had had the ability to communicate with any Sorcerer, anywhere, so long as he or she wore an amulet and they knew the Sorcerer's name. He thought that it had been a part of a unifying weave that was also woven into the amulets of his sisters, but that wasn't the case. The entirety of the weave was placed within his amulet.
And that explained why using the ability tired out the person who originated the conversation. Because that person was the one who was doing all the work. After all, all he was doing was speaking through another's amulet, then listening for what was said in reply through the other amulet.
He was again startled. Such an ingenious idea! He realized quickly that the Ancients probably all had this weave in their amulets, which would allow any Sorcerer the ability to communicate with any of his or her siblings at any time, from any place. The weaves of the spell that gave it this ability seemed… routine. He didn't quite understand how he knew that, but he could tell just by looking at the weaves that they were made by someone who had made this same weave time and time again. There was no personal flare or style in this weave, as there was in the weave concerning the elsewhere. It was an average, run-of-the-mill weave that had no sense of self. In other words, it was a basic enchantment, and that lent credence to the idea that it was common among the Ancients.
The Goddess had misled him! She hadn't come out and said it, but when she explained this to him, she made it sound like he could only use it to speak to Allia and Keritanima. That their amulets were linked, were special. She steered him away from the truth for some reason. That was something he meant to ask her the next time she visited.
Of course! They were linked. If Allia and Keritanima could speak to him, then their amulets had to have the same weave in them. All three were very, very old, ancient. They looked now to him that they dated back to the time when his amulet received the enchantment that gave it this ability. That made their three amulets unique, the only three known to have survived the Breaking intact. In a metaphorical sense, they were linked.
Another of its enchantments was a simple weave that hid the wearer's location from any kind of magical attempts to locate him. That one was simple, and was very effective. It was also one about which he knew. The Keeper had also known about it. He thought that the Keeper had made it, but she hadn't. This magical weave predated the Breaking. The katzh-dashi had probably come to discover this aspect of the amulet during their inspection of it.
The last enchantment was the most recent, and it was the one of which he knew the most about. And cursed, from time to time. It was the binding weave, an enchantment that prevented him from taking it off. It was so tightly woven into the fabric of the metal, into the fabric of the other enchantments, that any attempt to break or disrupt it would shatter the weaves that gave the amulet its powers. Any attempt to take it off would disenchant the amulet, leaving it non-magical. The complexity of the weave astounded him, and immediately he realized that the Keeper and the Council would be utterly unable to do this. This was done by someone whose magical skills were beyond comprehension, who was so adept at weaving that they could interweave both modern and ancient magicks so seamlessly that there was no way to separate them. That took an understanding of the ancient weaves that went beyond modern knowledge. Looking into the weaves, he felt and saw and sensed a familiarity to them, a sense of presence left behind in the weaving, almost like a signature. It was something with which he was intimately familiar.