Siglos's ears twitched ever so slightly, the man taking a soft, shaky breath. He stared down at the runes at his feet...a feeling almost akin to... excitement, overtaking him.
"...I...I understand this...I...I understand...a-all these patterns..." Siglos muttered to himself. His time as a merchant...his time studying at the church...the culmination of all of his long...sleepless nights over the forge. His knowledge culminated in a level of understanding the man could only dream of having as a kid. These symbols, these runes, each and every section of the magic circle was as clear to him as any letter on parchment. He could do this, he was certain of it. The young Everian liked to think of enchanting as an art...and at this moment...Siglos had finally become an artist.
"...Ophelius, guide me..." Siglos muttered. And with that...he began. His fingers...slow...careful...precise, began to drift across runes on the floor, the circle beginning to illuminate itself within the darkness of the corridor. His senses strained, mana coating his ears and eyes as he activated both his Mana Hearing and Mana Sight at once. Like an artist, painting the smallest details on a painting...or a sculptor, shaping the clay at just the right angle...Siglos worked, his fingers stirring and shifting the mana...the smallest glyphs bending themselves to his will.
As he worked...something began to flicker within the teleportation circles...crude lines, soon shifting into elaborate patterns and shapes...soon forming an image. If Siglos's efforts were successful, within those images would lie what was taking place in the areas beyond their sight, on the other side of the teleportation runes.
The process took several, long moments. In which Siglos was more than vulnerable. A slight distraction, much less an attack, would completely disrupt his progress, as well as any...unforeseen complications within the rune itself.