Space, distance, connection
Correspondence
Reality has no edges. Correspondence reveals that all places are, in some sense, the same place — and a willing mage can act on that truth.
Perceive distances, dimensions, and connections between places.
Eyes briefly glow as you measure a room without looking — observers feel watched.
You glance and say "about twelve metres, give or take." You were always good at this.
Sense distant locations through links; touch what is far away in a limited sense.
A nearby phone rings before it's dialled, picking up your sympathetic touch.
You guess which drawer the document is in. It's an old habit; nobody questions it.
Open small windows between points; see and speak across distance.
A second mouth appears in the air; reality has a visible seam.
You wave at the camera in the hallway. The mark on the other side notices, somehow.
Be in more than one place at once; teleport short distances with effort.
You step from one street to another, leaving an imprint of yourself behind for a beat.
Witnesses swear they saw you a block over moments before — must have been someone else.
Reshape distances themselves; collapse or extend space, bend geometry.
The corridor stretches indefinitely as your enemies run.
They take a wrong turn and lose hours. The building was always confusing.