Mary
The rest of the deities slowly agreed to the plan, with only Vivienne expressing any additional concerns. Despite her sentimentality, she was truly an enormous help, Onesifi thought, as she deciphered the ramblings of yet another eccentric goddess. The concern of what ways there were to cast magic were not of a great concern to the deity, and the question of having to learn magic in order to use it seemed almost too trivial to genuinely note - although they could not blame her for doing the exact same thing Onesifi themself did just a few moments ago. The deity noted that they could not help but feel certain respect towards her; hopefully this ritual had not turned the moth goddess away from them, especially since the Restless had quite a few questions for her. But that was for later.

In-between the multiple declarations of consent, Onesifi sent out a copy of themself to quickly engrave their own name on the rib that Mr. Bones placed in the middle of the room. They allowed themself to be slightly more fancy with this signature in comparison to the one already engraved on another of Bones's ribs; the occasion seemed to call for decorum, after all. Even if some other deities did not believe so.

Afterwards, Majesty gave out a few easy concessions - after all, everything that was said in this final round of negotiations was mere common sense or demands that would not be of any true cost to Majesty. Onesifi could not help but notice that the Archfiend regarded them for a few more seconds than other deities - and, trying to seek out any sign of what she could be thinking, found none. One thing was clear: she noticed the deity of ambition. But for better or for worse - only the regal goddess herself could tell behind that ominously serene expression. She was an unknown - which just meant that Onesifi had to improvise.

But not now. A mere minute later, after a spectacle of the agreement materialising into the universe, Majesty cut a deep wound into her demiplane - and, as the Throne bled, pouring out the energy, Onesifi leapt on it like someone traversing a desert finding an oasis. They grasped the river of power and diverted some of it onto themself, as their legs led them to twirl away from the rest of the deities.

Their idea for magic was already formed about halfway through the proceedings. They had to understand that whatever they created would reflect upon themself in the divine court; for the sake of their potential relationship with the more... Obstinate deities, they could not go far beyond their domain's borders; so they would grant them whatever they desired to make their movement faster, easier, more precise; whatever desires they would want other than that, they could find amongst other schools of magic.

And for the cost - Onesifi could make it a blessing in disguise. So many delayed their true pursuits, so many died in agony at the end of their lives after stopping to move. Letting them cut the end of their life, to escape the stagnation that comes with it to bolster themselves while they were still able to achieve. An easy deal, as far as Onesifi themself was concerned; if they were mortal, they would easily take it, after all.

And so they danced, putting in their own meaning into magic that swirled around them. It was furious, determined, unstopping like the Restless themself. The rhythm's speed only seemed to increase as the deity of ambition pirouetted with unmatchable vigour - until, at last, it was done, and **Celerimancy** Was brought into the world. 

And as the performance ended, they curtsied to everyone gathered; once again pacing around, perhaps waiting for some conclusion to the Ritual.
Loretta
Giving a quick thought to what she was going to do, and the lack of counter magic concession which she had asked for... Suzu drive her bladed tail towards the river of power that flowed out of the demi plane, while she had initially set her tail in motion with the plan to use her influence to create a direct form of countermagic... Her intent shifted half way through and by the time it impacted and she was exerting her influence, the execution had changed completely.

As she drover blades into the system, she exerted her will to create a rather simple school of magic... One which would make things colder, that's it... No fancy tricks, no whacky environmental hijinks, hell not even any way to do any thing with it _other_ then to make things colder, when you used her power... Stuff would get cold... Because you see... That _WAS_ the trick.

Knowing that what she wanted to do with magic would require the user to both act fast, and not always be able to have there own materials on hand, the real point of her magic was laid out in its cost... You would pay for this wonderful ability to make things colder... With an offering of _magic itself_ it did not need to be your magic mind you, in fact if you understood this system correctly you would understand that using your own magic actually defeated the point of it... The whole system was a grand energy sink, a way to bring about order and structure, one that you could feed some one else's spells too and accomplish a simple task... A magic whos functional purpose was to consume other magic and use that magic to also take energy with it.

_Syntropy_, at its purest form.
Ralph
Soldr stared in wonder as raw power fractured the wall between planes, starting to seep out. It took him a bit to stop marveling at the might of the ritual. The other gods were all doing different things. Doing what came naturally had served Soldr well since he had became a god, so he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to feel for the cracks that they'd formed in the planes.

Soldr could feel the raw crackling power, radiating like white hot heat as if he was right next to the sun. And then, it felt like his hand was dipping into something hot, like when he'd dove into the magma of his own realm. Opening his eyes, he could see his hand was gone. It was like he'd dipped it into a deep pool, except instead of a pool it was just the air in front of him cutting him off at the wrist. He could still feel it though, burning hot and at the same time prickling as if he was being struck by lightning. And flexing his fingers, he'd feel them stirring through what felt like a heap of smooth cords. He wrapped his digits around a handful, then gave a mighty tug, yanking his hand free.

When it emerged, he was alight in an eye-searingly bright glow. He'd pulled a handful of **Bright orange lightning** Out of thin air, and had a wolflike grin on his face Soldr could feel the raw power coursing through him like he was a lightning rod. He dug his heels in, then took a step back, stretching the cords out until a loud **SNAP** Could be heard as the ropes of lightning began to break off, leaving him with a huge lump of crackling energy in his hands. It was like holding a giant mass of silly putty. A little awkward to keep it all from dripping.

"Let me just..." He tensed his hands, forming them into claws as he focused his power on the raw magical energy. He twisted it, compacting it, until it had formed into a glowing white prism of energy about the size of a grape. As he stared at it, it shimmered in every color, storing unimaginable power and at the same time infinitely fragile. So fragile, in fact, he found himself reaching for it and then crushing it in his hand.

**CRCCKLE**

He could feel the shards digging into his hand as the sound of glass crushing echoed through the room. As if a massive window had been broken, a webwork of white-hot cracks shattered the air around him, spreading all the way back to his realm. He opened his hand, and nothing was there, but he knew he'd altered how magic could be channeled in his own way.

*Did that do it?* He wondered, flexing his hand as he examined it for any residue. He wanted to vocalize the question, but he didn't want to break the silence that seemed to have fallen over the room. And he already knew the answer. He'd created **Item Creation Magic**, allowing raw power to be imbued into tools anyone could use.
Daniel
*And so the time had finally come.* The weight of divine creation pressed down on Vivienne's senses. Familiar, nostalgic. All this energy bubbling just under the surface, just barely out of reach. It almost felt like if she reached out her finger, she could just barely touch it. And then, the seam was torn asunder. The great tapestry that divided *Here* From *There* Frayed, just as it had all that time ago, when she had introduced Dreams to this world. Power flowed forth freely. Slow, sickly, and warm at first, like blood seeping from a cut, but it wasn't long before that flow grew faster. Hotter.

Still hugging Silly close to her side, Vivienne frowned, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the jester's. Her consciousness reached out towards her sleeping fragment and wavered. When rest came, so too would change. With her dreams she would create the magic all her children wielded. No. *Create* Was the wrong word. All had already been *Created.* She was merely formalizing it. Packaging it up nice and neat and saying to the world 'look what my children have been tirelessly working on!' At last, the last thread of wakefulness cut, and Vivienne fell headlong into Dream. 

Through her dreams, she saw the dreams of others. Of her children. Their joys and their fears. Their memories and their experiences. A crystal wool spun into a thread, imbued and embroidered. A knife, hewn out of crystal and etched. Even the Witchblight, usually regarded as a weakness, carved into a source of strength. All creations of theirs, and soon the world would know of them. Guided by her ethereal hand, portions of magic all over creation *Crystallized.* In places of high pressure, in the Witchblighted, and of course in high abundance where it had always been found. Hypnagogia.

It was with these solid-magic crystals that practitioners of the Crystalcraft did their work, weaving long-lasting spells into their creations with the crystals. Not fire and forget like so many spells were, but intended to be used and reused again and again. Just like the blanket the pattern was embroidered into. Just like the bowl the runes were etched into. And because these crystals were now innate to magic itself, and not just her realm, no longer would it be limited to just her children's magic. Through the Crystalcraft, all schools of magic could potentially be weaved into a creation, as long as the proper price was paid. 

*And just for good measure~*

With a mischievous, unheard giggle, Vivienne subtly adjusted one of the frayed edges in the demiplane. If she positioned it conceptually over her realm, then once all the channels were set up, Hypnagogia would get an extra little trickle of magic. A small safeguard for her realm, so the magic her children and her creations relied on to survive could never be *Fully* Suppressed. And now, with all those little changes out of the way and everything in order, it was time to wake back up. 

In an instant, Vivienne snapped back awake. Her body *Creaked* As she straightened herself back up, no longer burdening Silly with the weight of her head. Fragments of iridescent magic crystal cracked off of her, to which the witch gave a small, irritated frown. Such was the cost for channeling so much magic. Thankfully at least, it seemed the crystallization was on the side of her body opposite Silly. It'd take a moment to break it off herself, but at least her companion was untouched. Silently, she got to work breaking herself free from her crystalline encasement.
Sidney
As the ritual begin and divine power melded and manifested into new world wonders, Aphot amused himself by drawing illusions over his own eyes, visualizing each present deity as some weird, Othered versions of themselves. But then something appeared to occur to him, and he suddenly had the most *Wonderful* Idea.

Oh, he did so love it when he had moments like this.

Aphot's stationary form crackled like radio static, a muted white noise thinning the atmosphere around him like a parfum of void. This was the result of the god doing...*Something.*

In the midst of these coalescing energies, the bare threads of a subtler, quieter one slipped in like a stray snow drop, free-flowing and tracing its course in the frame of a metaphysical skeleton for... Something. Something not yet clear, something nearly imperceptible in its very being; something so faint and light in its touch it could've been a fern brushing lightly against the surface of a pool.

Aphot then threw up his hands in jubilant glee, as if reaching upward to pull down reality around him- and he practically did. Reveling in the elation of the sheer energies vitalizing around him, he pulled at the powers other gods were making and, with all the audacity of an emboldened toddler, *Tugged* At them as if they were wires to be twisted and tangled. A little bit of Nachromancy, some Crystalcraft, a sprinkle of Atmokinesis, and physical shards of their festering amalgamations started spilling into the hall, benign yet bizarre in their being.
Kelly
Even before she made her presence known, Silly had been long in thought about what she might add to the ritual. Simply her or comical magic was against her ethos: anything, even the most boring of magics, could be used for fun and games. As they were, each magic was but a lonesome spell. A trade, wherein the outcomes were known. You could master spells, or learn many, and perhaps craft new ones. But each school was but its own piece... There needed to be something to bridge them together. A magical glue of sorts.

Whence came Silly's addition: Metamagic. Her first double bounced and jiggled in Vivienne's hands, honking as it was squished down and up and sideways, whilst her second double merely retorted any of its criticisms with yet another point and cry of '**Wrong!**'. But, beneath that, the two little cogs of her divine mind turned impossibly fast. Threads of silky confetti poured out of her being and into the sky, swirling and weaving themselves into the fabric of magic. On their own, they did nothing. Yet, they provided a basis for infinite complexity and growth. The simplest, yet most complicated school of magic. One whose very spells were individual, obfuscated from others, and highly personal.

Then, she added a degree of spontaneity. The ability to utilise her magic principles to tweak and craft spells on the fly. Other spells might be used, leveraged, and combined, but a myriad of other modifications were possible. From simply changing a spell's colour to increasing its range or duration, or even its potency, Silly worked. So long as the cost was paid, and one knew of suitable spells to use, there was little her magic could not do.

And, before she knew it, she was done. Finished. To add anything else would merely provide shortcuts and give unnecessary complexity to what was simply an elegant system. Through dance or song or writing or runes or chants, it mattered not. It was open to all and any. And everyone's performance would be that much different.

The more one tweaked and wrote their spells, the more they'd need to give in exchange. Simple copper sand, silver, or even gold. A fine powder that had to be produced by hand. Gold was most suitable to allow spells to last, such as runes and engravings. Silver for allowing spells to shine brightest, but not as long: for the fastest of casting times, or for quick and fluid spell-slinging. Copper, however, would be the most general-purpose option, and the easiest to produce. Perhaps the mortals might discover other materials with new properties for their spells. The cost required would always be the same.

Walking up to one of the tables of the great hall, the formerly ranting Silly reached into her hat and pulled out a very thick book. It was thicker than it was wide, with the font on its pages small enough to require a magnifying glass to comfortably read. She slammed it down upon the hard wood with a grin. That was her magic. The book of it all. It was a language in its own right. 

The first page was simple and summarised all her magic could do. The rest, and many thousands as there were, explained in detail. In tiny crayon handwriting, it specified every little cost, interaction, and every possible parameter. But, before anyone might get a chance to read it, she shred all but that first page into confetti. The others would just have to figure it out.

Giggling, that Silly too poofed away, leaving only the Silly in Vivienne's arms. Oblivious of the witch's little endeavour, or simply uncaring, she reached up to boop one of the moth goddess's antennae. "Sooo, what'cha thiiink?" She asked. Throughout the demiplane of magic, no, throughout the very fabric of all spells in the world, Silly's intangible confetti connections linked all. Other squiggles swam about. And further wiggle-wags looped about any new creation. Tiny. Smaller than the magics they touched. But a tiny thread out could simply *Pluck* To link so many magics.

Finally, her magic was **Silly Complete**.
Tiffany
Bea could feel the demi plane's energy around her, flowing like a great river. All it needed was a little directing.

She pulled some of the magic close, her eyes shining brightly. She felt alive, with something challenging and valuable in her grasp. She had so many ideas. So many options. Magic was limitless. It was wonderful.

...But her siblings covered so many forms of magic. She needed to bring something new to the table.

Bea thought for a moment, then settled on one idea- something, I might add, that was quite difficult for her to do.

Quickly, eagerly, Bea molded her magic. She made it subtle, and intuitive. Something that dealt with the mind rather than the world. Mind magic, she'll call it. On the nose, but gets the point across. Its wielders will be able to peer into the minds of others, toying with their thoughts and memories.

Once she was finally finished, she let her magic go, letting it run wild throughout the World Tree. She sat back down, tired. She needed a nap.