You observe Veve as she wanders throughout the area, scanning and searching for the temporal anomaly left in your wake. Even unable to perceive it, she is skilled with her magic, and she slowly closes in on the origin of your arrival in this time. Still, her skill and her goals are not your primary concern... you are more interested in her magic, and its differences from what is familiar.
The first thing you are reminded of is the Mantle of the Fall Maiden. Fundamentally, they are similar, if vastly different in scope: Veve manipulates her Aura, burning it in some odd process you cannot quite pin down. The result is a different form of energy, so very similar to the magic you are familiar with... yet left with an imprint of her soul upon it, perhaps like your own imprint on the magic you produce. This energy she manipulates with care and skill, weaving it in the air to diagnose the wound left on time. Yet... despite her skill, you find yourself somewhat disappointed.
Her magic is so rigid. You are reminded, suddenly, of Weiss Schnee and her Semblance; of shapes premade and waiting only to be filled, to execute their single purpose. Veve weaves her soul in patterns obviously familiar, her magic tightly bound into the shape she intends... so very different from the way your mortals manipulate your energy, from the way your Arbiter's shadow dances. Is this how Remnant's magic is performed, or a signature of this specific woman? Without further samples, you cannot say for sure.
You tighten your focus; with your mind adrift, it seems you are more easily distracted. There is... less of your attention to go around, and you cannot afford to chase tangents now. For the moment, you will simply analyze the example in front of you, and determine what might be useful. Firstly, as her magic is essentially an advanced Aura manipulation, it is... not useful to you specifically. Without an Aura, you cannot replicate her spells... although your mortals might, with sufficient training. And... Penny might benefit from the ability to turn her Aura into magic. Hmm. You will observe the process when you have the opportunity, and try to determine how Veve's soul generates magic. Secondly, from the similarities between the two, you can theorize that the Maiden's Mantle was based at least partially upon this style of magic; learning about one will likely lead to insights towards the other.
And finally... as you watch and analyze, you briefly brush up against Veve's Aura, and her gaze flicks towards where Blake sits meditating. Hmm. It seems they are not completely unaware, then.
As night fell, Blake joined the warriors in their camp. It was well-provisioned and efficiently set up; the men gathered around a large fire, with designated individuals preparing what fresh meat they had as others ate dried or preserved rations. She settled into a spot that gave her vision of much of the camp – and there were no soldiers behind her, nor any reason for them to be. Old habits were, on occasion, still useful. She watched the small groups of soldiers, the tighter bonds that formed within the greater whole, and she thought of the team left behind. They weren't gravely injured when they left, Obsidian had said. Meaning they were injured, but would recover, but...
That didn't mean they weren't gravely injured afterward. She remembered the battle with Cinder, and though she was injured she wasn't beaten yet... and she was strong. Far stronger than Blake – or Obsidian – had expected. She wanted to have faith in her team. To believe in the people defending Vale alongside them. But... She looked down at her hands. Or... her hand and her magic. Her breath hitched as her mind conjured an image of her team standing before Cinder, the Maiden rising into the air and –
"Here." The voice that interrupted her was deep but smooth, and her eyes snapped up even as her fists clenched, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. The soldier before her didn't react, even as she slowly relaxed, eyes narrowing as she stared at the plate of food he was holding out to her.
"Don't you need that?" She watched as he smiled, grabbing a piece of dried meat and taking a bite of it.
"Not poisoned, so you don't need to worry. That would be awfully low of me, considering what you did." He sniffed. "There's plenty of food. The Princess believes in bringing more supplies than she expects to need."
"She's a princess?" The question slipped out before Blake could contain it. I guess I'm a little rattled... still, I need to be careful.
He chuckled. "Yeah. She doesn't wear it like the ones in the stories, eh? None of the royals are like that. They're good people... mostly." Something flickered across his face for a moment. "...Anyway. Name's Geran, son of Armen. Among the many lessons my father taught me, paying my debts was the very first."
Slowly, Blake reached out to sample a piece of fruit from the plate. It was... good, and her stomach rumbled slightly at the taste. She avoided looking at the blooming smile on the soldier. "...So you were the soldier that got pulled out? Why were you even fighting without Aura?"
"Aura?"
She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "I... don't know what your people call it. The shield of your soul?"
He blinked, then laughed. "I'm no Awakened. Gods above, if you thought you were rescuing someone that important I don't know what to tell you." He coughed into a fist. "Uh... besides my thanks, of course."
As Blake considered that, another voice cut through the night. "In your tribe, is it only the Awakened who fight?" Veve approached, her stride confident, sinking to sit in a motion that was both effortless and noble. Blake felt an irrational moment of jealousy for the sheer grace of it.
"...Except in absolute emergencies, yes. Those..." Her mind flicked through the story she'd told and the story they'd assumed, and she changed her answer slightly. "...those who were Awakened were trained for combat. The others for everything else."
"Hmm. You must have been blessed with strong souls, then." Unsure how to respond, Blake simply remained silent until Veve spoke again. "So, Blake of Obsidian. Will you be camping nearby? I notice you carry no supplies with you."
"I... have everything I need."
Veve raised an eyebrow. "Whatever climate you hail from, the nights here are cold. I would not recommend sleeping exposed to the elements. If you require a tent, in light of your actions we could..."
Blake's raised hand cut off the offer, as her shadow rose up before draping over her, a cloak and a tent and a blanket all in one. "I have everything I need. Thank you, though, for the food. I... would have had to hunt otherwise, I guess."
Veve's eyes were tracing all across the shadow, gleaming with interest. "...Does it maintain itself as you sleep? How?"
Blake merely smiled, her eyes flicking to where the Frozen Flame rested, hidden from sight. "It... has a mind of its own, sometimes."
Veve considered that as she took another bite of food. "...How fascinating. I would love to discuss souls and their Natures with you. Yours seems quite unique." The capital letter was audible, and Blake could feel a curious gaze from the Flame.
"Natures? You say that like a title."
A nod. "Each soul is unlike all others, as I am sure your people have realized. In the Awakened, that uniqueness is even more profound. Our souls reach out to the world around us, and the way in which they reach... can teach us much of ourselves. Knowing yourself can only benefit you."
Blake thought of her older Semblance and her hatred of it. She thought of her new one, and what it could mean... both pragmatically in what it could do, and what it might say about her. "...Yeah. You're right. Even if the things we learn aren't what we want to know."
Veve's smile gained a hint of something Blake couldn't identify. Some... faint sadness, or regret. "My sister would enjoy meeting you, I think. You remind me of her, a bit."
"Another princess?"
She laughed, a bright sound. "Yes. The youngest. To learn your people's perspectives on the soul would please her greatly." She peered off into the distance, a far-away look in her eyes.
"She always hungers for knowledge, my little Salem."