“Yes, you come from Shurima. We are north of it …”
She turned away from the makeshift writing table at the window and beckoned him to her desk with her hand, before she took her own sheet of paper and pen. At the bottom, she drew the pyramids of Shurima, sand mounds and even a small caricature of a camel - directly above it, she made a zig-zagged line, supposedly the mountainous chain that split the desert from the northern continent, with a small breach in its center - Mogron Pass.
And then further above that line and situated in the center of the page, she drew the pillared structure of the Institute of War before making two crosses over it.
"Xerath. Tybresa. Here." She tapped the center once more before intently watching him, studying for a reaction.
He sniffled a little at the plant sitting on the windowsill next to him, sparing a moment to stare at it in curiosity before going back to his apparent doodling. Of her words he only made out ‘Shurima’ and hurriedly nodded his agreement to her, a finger poking at the pyramids he had drawn.
Xerath’s mind was racing for some way to break the barrier that language was causing. His mind automatically turned to his magical research and the stuff therein. Was there anything of us there? Some rune or marking that would help? Something to perhaps speak to one another in something more than words? He let himself unconsciously think about it, letting it process and trusting his powerful intellect to eventually provide something of use. Gods knew he needed it right about now.
He hesitated a moment before awkwardly following her over to the desk. He nodded at the picture of the pyramids and camel she drew, a small smile showing on his lips for a moment. As she continued her map, he watched silently, and though he could not read what he assumed were labels, he nodded as she tapped twice, getting her meaning anyway. The Magus, frustrated with having to act like an idiot, still reached out and indicated Tybresa, then himself, and touched the map to show he truly understood before leaning over it himself, and tracing the line of the pass with a finger.
After a moment, Xerath looked back up the summoner, a light frown on his face.
Xerath took a step back, looking back to his abandoned drawing on the windowsill. He hurried back, and grabbed it, flipping the page over and using the pen to draw a heavy, simple rune on the back of the parchment. He blinked at it critically for a moment before adding a few more lines then slapped his hand down upon it. It glowed faintly, a surge of pure arcane running through his hand. His eyes glowed fiercly.
After a moment he pulled back from it, and came back to Tybresa, paper in tow, using his pen to draw another rune straight over the map Tybresa had drawn, before going to grab her wrist without a care and slap it down on the rune. Tybresa, if she allowed it, would feel a static crackle of power.
The Magus placed his hands on his own rune and stared intently at the female.
"Does this work?"
He was staring intently. So intently. Unblinking. A line of sweat was already starting to bead on his brow. They didn’t have long. Of course telepathy would be the best way. He should have thought of it sooner.
However, Xerath’s magic was crude in comparison to the modern telepathy used by others, it not being his speciality. He held the link tenuously.