"Not Just Healing: The Discipline"

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Something funny
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The Formist can see into the heart of things around them; can feel the sinews of a muscle; the chords of a heart; the grains in a length of wood; the veins of pink marble that sews through granite. Put simply, Forma manifests in threads: chains of identical pieces of matter. A Formist learns to sew, sever, and weave these threads.

Formistry is split into five schools (though they are not necessarily distinct from one another). These represent the two non-magical living forces: animal and plant, as well as the three states of known matter: solid, liquid, and gas.

A steady hand becomes the conductor.
Vitae spells manifest in stitching. They focus entirely on manipulating living animal matter, and are depicted in storybooks as a healer's craft wielded by scholarly battle medics and long-bearded servants of Nobles and Kings.

Surgically precise, the Vitae Formist stitches a complex pattern into the patient's thigh, leaving their left leg numb and unresponsive. Now, the gangrene can be hacked away without the usual accompanying screams of agony.

The grass is always greener.. on your side.
Herba spells are created using alchemy as a conduit, and most are applied via a form of fertiliser to pre-existing plantlife, creating a wide range of effects, some fast acting, others not.

Mind numbed with the fumes of alchemy, the Herbalist holds the glass beaker up to the light, examining the pale concoction with a frown. 'Sod it,' she thinks, and tips it onto the freshly seeded earth, watching with a deep satisfaction as tiny green shoots begin to wriggle their way towards the sunlight.

Stay solid.
Fortis spells require physical contact. They are cast using the mage's own solid matter as a conduit; a Formist might sink their arms into a stone wall up to the elbow in order to carve out a tunnel.

Walking barefoot, the Fortis mage wriggles her toes with a smile, sinking her feet deep into the sand. A tiny crenelated castle manifests by her feet, decorated with sea-shell sentries and a salty moat. She creates an opposing force of sandy soldiers and watches them battle for a while, until the entire lot is swept away by a particularly erratic wave. Looking up, the mage glares at her fellow student near a receding shoreline. She grins wickedly as her sweat glistens off her skin. Insu bastard.

Empty your mind.. Be formless and shapeless, like water.
Insu spells manipulate liquids. Whether it be spitting into a cup to determine its contents, or letting one's own blood and turning it caustic and volatile, Insu spells all require the Formist's own fluids as a reagent. Blood, sweat and tears, literally. This can be disgusting, but most of the time is seen as blood-magic.

The Insu Formist stares at the silver-gilded goblet, placed before him by a serving girl. It is full of wine, that's for certain, but something isn't quite right. He spits in it, drawing scandalized stares from around the banquet hall. The blood-red liquid begins to bubble thickly, letting of a smell like burnt almonds. Spider venom. How crude.

Breath in.. Breath out.
Last but not least, the school of gas focuses on developing the ability to manipulate it. A Vesti mage draws gas into their lungs, alters it there, and exhales something different.

'"Where's the report on the density of bone-tar at room-temperature, Alder?" 'Lecturer Varn can go huff dragon's breath.' The young apprentice leans heavily against the balcony railing, having finished his tirade on the unfairness of the university's workload. Emma smirks at him from her spot in the corner. 'You haven't finished that yet? Piece of piss, got it done last night.' She nudges her pack with a bony, calloused elbow. 'Do you Vesti waifs ever get work done, or is it true that you spend all your waking hours smoking pipe-leaf and meditating?' Alder sucks in a lungful of midwinter air, crouches down so he's level with Emma, and blows a heavy cloud of black smoke in proximity to her. She becomes irate, waving her hand to disperse it as the other covers her nose.
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