Nezether raised her thumb and middle finger, purple aether radiating from her hand in clawing striations as she rubbed the two into a snap.
The air surrounding Rowan began to undulate, waving past him with such speed that it caused the earth to crumble beneath his feet, his body slowly snaking back a couple inches.
The vibrant, glowing yet blank interior of her chamber began to contort, its shape disfiguring and enlarging as if one were to rapidly inflate a balloon, but as it rose, so too did it fall, transforming into a liquid form that defied gravity and form in manners inexplicable to the human mind.
Rowan's eyes widened, but his mind was not only caught on the dreamlike state of Nezethar's room, also focusing on the very space in front of him.
Beforehand, there'd been nothing but empty space enveloping the distance between himself and Nezethar, but some of the running fluid slithered forward across the floor to reach a few feet forward from him, vying for the ceiling as it expanded outward.
Spiky protrusions formed along the substance's corners, stretching out to merge into a top smooth surface while the rest coalesced into four cylindrical formations along the bottom.
Eventually, the purple essence settled, forming a color gradient as it transmuted from purple, then red, then brown, then light brown.
Small bright slivers crept across and from the ends of the solid to mimic true, authentic wood, the liquid used for the legs of the top brightening to a metallic silver and solidifying.
"My writing table...?" Rowan said, his eyes wide and limbs taut.
"Ah, so that's what this is." Nezether said, repeatedly curling and unfurling her fingers in the same way seers in fiction do when looking into a crystal ball.
The space above the table turned into a blinding white, clashing with the vanishing purple while forming into one cohesive form.
The white hue that was covering the room and drowned out the purple slowly disappeared, transmuting to an even stronger purple.
As the light dimmed, it began to reveal a smooth, towering purple orb that had aether sizzling out from its surface in electric stripes of destruction.
A cold sweat ran down Rowan's face as he imagined coming into contact with such a dense construct, but the deep pit in his chest was soon forgotten as he looked towards Nezethar.
She reached her hand out with no tremors in her movement or noticeable change in expression, solely seeking the destructive pulses that'd left Rowan unmoving.
Rowan threw his hand forward, erratically attempting to warn her, but his cries were drowned out by the deafening shrills of the orb's aetheric thunder.
As her index finger touched up upon it, the bright purple in the room scattered to reveal mundane ambient lights familiar to Rowan.
"Wait, what is this?" Rowan asked, looking upon the newly transformed chamber that had papers scattered across its floors.
He looked down upon one paper, its writings a fatal memory that he'd wished to forget.
"This is my old room." He said, his eyes knitted into a scattered mess of confusion and fear. "The one I'd been in before I was summoned here."
Nezethar turned to gaze at Rowan, her still face cracking with amusement.
"You lived in this dump? This is quite the depressing pit here." She said, stepping forward with her hand hovering. "Here, let me explain things to you--"
"No, get away!" Rowan yelled, slapping away her arm as he jumped back with strength he'd never had to use for years. "Why did you bring me back!"
Nezethar's face didn't express even a tinge of surprise, her smile getting wider. The showing of her teeth made a flaring heat in Rowan's chest roar, enveloping the rest of his body.
But as he looked on at Nezethar's smile, he felt another, secondary pang reverberate from within the flame, icing its heat and removing the red in his face.
Images of a man--once his father--flashed by in his mind, embellishing the flames with strength once lost, but then remembrances of another similar-looking boy clashed with the flames, killing them entirely and returning the calm in his mind.
No, the blue he'd felt wasn't a calm.
Translucent streams of water ran down his eyes, his lips trembling in nostalgic grief.
"I-I..." He struggled, unintentionally biting back his words while blowing his nose to at least retain some of the dignity he'd lost.
Falling to the floor, he closed his eyes with the faint hope that he could hold back the free-flowing tears, but as more vivid images of his brother streaked his vision, it only had the opposite effect.
While Rowan broke down, Nezethar reached her hand out, unnecessarily clearing her throat to grab his attention.
Aether crackled in the distance between her hand and the orb, eventually meeting the two and forming a direct connection. As soon as it did, aether in Nezethar's chest pumped into her arm, emboldening the crystal even further.
Space twisted and churned once again, but with a haste that it hadn't known the first time when she'd initially formed the crystal.
Instantly, Rowan was seated on one end of the table's long side, Nezethar on the other. The table was a different color now, black with slices of purple stretching all across its surface.
The large purple orb was perhaps a quarter of its size now, standing tall at about half the height of a human but not to the point that Nezether and Rowan couldn't see each other.
His hands were automatically moved to his sides, the tears on his face gone. But one could still hear--even feel--the trembling of his limbs.
Nezethar took note of his trembling, stretching her arm forward first.
"Look, I didn't mean to put you through grief, especially a doll such as yourself. The orb chooses the scenery for me, telling of which environment would invigorate the most growth within you." She said, kicking her legs on the table as she fidgeted her fingers in an almost uncaring manner. "Apparently, something about this mess makes you all sentimental, Sorry if I hurled you into something traumatic. But you must understand--this is how your resonance deepens."
Rowan was silent, but not out of choice. He hadn't found the proper words to give her, unknowing of how he should feel in this given moment.
"Hey, you know, you really shouldn't look at me with such hatred."
Rowan in a flustered flight, looked away. He was unaware that he'd been glaring at Nezethar, perhaps unconsciously blaming her for his emotions. But either way, he knew it served no purpose to be quiet.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just, rather unpleasant memories flooded my brain all at once." Rowan said, turning back towards her while straightening his posture.
"Yes, yes, that is the intended purpose. After all, the orb responds to the recipient's emotion."
Rowan stared at the still energetic conglomerate of violent aether, its surges almost forcing him to back up a few inches.
"The orb?" He asked, fighting back against his natural instinct to run by sticking his finger out towards it, but still maintaining distance with the understanding that the crystal's passive energy could easily burn it off, bone and all.
"Yes, it is the Eye of Chrona, the device needed to see into your future."