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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 6, 2017 21:51:40 GMT
The midnight woman stepped over the threshold of the school for the first time in over two years. She had been recognized, not that that was surprising. There were few of her particularly dark skin coloration, and even fewer mages that had chosen to not only accept their tattoo but enhance it as she had. They had not turned her away. Despite that, she hated this place. Lledrith School, which had once been the closest thing she'd had to a home, was also one of her nightmares. She had made no friends by coming there, despite the tracker-mage's promises. She had gotten very little more acceptance from her fellow students as she had from the fellow street-children when she was younger. But now, though she had promised herself that she would never return to this place, she had found something that made the return worthwhile. A goal. She needed knowledge.
She had changed from her travelling clothing. Here at the school she wore a dress, rather than trousers and a shirt. The dress, rather than the dark colors she so often preferred, was a bright, incandescent purple that shimmered to blue, and shifted colors from the blue to purple to crimson, the crimson lining the hems of the sleeves and skirt. It was a sharp contrast to her dark skin, an intentional call to the differences that she had begun to enhance rather than hide, as she had grown older. Her cloak was still hooked over her shoulders, flowing behind her as she walked.
The library in the school was by far one of the largest she knew of, specifically that she could guarantee herself access to. There was a veritable horde of knowledge here, that her own, personal libraries could not come close to beating. Nor would they ever unless she spent lifetimes collecting tomes, writing them, copying ones she did not have. Perhaps hiring a scribe would not go amiss... Not that the school would necessarily allow that. One never knew. Her steps, quiet as the shadows that almost always clung to her boots, carried her without fail towards the library within the school. Only the musical sound of the stone beads within her braids announced her presence. She said no greetings to any person walking by, ignored any given to her, and even the librarian was only given a nod of ... perhaps respect.
Immediately, as she thought of what brought her here, the image of an enormous beast, stoney-colored and veined with the green life of moss, came to mind. A voice so deep that it shivered her very bones, that it made the earth beneath her feet quake... a voice of Power, that had whispered so as to not harm her when they spoke.... And she could not tell anyone. She had sworn herself to silence in a manner that her own magic would stop her from speaking of it. But that did not stop her from pursuing her goal. She tugged one of the brightly colored stones from her braids, murmured a spell over it. The stone lit up like a small lamp, and then levitated, and led her towards one of the back sections of the library. There, it took her from book to book, which trailed in a stack behind her, levitating neatly until she had well over thirty books. All covered the magic of transmutation, of changing things from one thing to another. She sent them to a table ahead of her, glowering at a student when the younger mage wandered too near, and then sent the stone off to fetch her yet another book.... She unhooked her cloak and laid it over a chair before sighing.
It flew steadily down from the shelves that required a ladder to reach. Shaecayrn new exactly where it was. She had read it many a time before, but one could never retain all of the information perfectly. Down from the shelves came a book that she had helped to to scribe when younger, a conglomeration of the magical races of the world. Once it arrived, she settled onto a chair, pulling several books from their piles, and opening them. From a pocket within her cloak she brought forth her own leather-bound book, a quill, and an inkwell, for her own notes.
In that moment, her research began.
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Master of Water
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 7, 2017 20:54:52 GMT
It was another day at Lledrith. The school had been quite peaceful recently, all of the old man's worries faded away like the low tide of the sea. Now, Arlyn was in a better state of mind. A few days ago he had been checking around the school, sitting in classrooms and even giving a few talks for a few. It was fairly recently he had encountered a certain fae again. She sure loved to visit the school. Well, at least he gave her something to do, which would make it a more productive endeavor. He did not tolerate sloth, just visiting the school for sightseeing was not worth other peoples' while. But, he was glad that she had at least, accepted the task. It wasn't very hard to do, merely just passing a bunch of papers to a tracker. He hoped they got to their destination, but he had high hopes in the fae.
Now Arlyn found himself in the library, pushing aside the grand doors and walking inside. Not many were perturbed by his entrance, and many still continued to keep their head down in the books. Even though he was an Elemental Master, there wasn't some sort of code for respect upon entry, unlike a royal or a commander. That was something which Arlyn liked, because the Elemental Masters were once like them, studying hard in the library to become a full-fledged mage. Arlyn remembered the many long nights he had spent here, reading and researching his magic. Water fortunately was not a hard subject to find, although he had heard that those with obscure powers had more trouble. He walked over to the counter where the librarian stood, and had rather a pleasant chat with. Some of the younger students then came up to him, tugging on his cloak as they asked for help on their homework. Laughingly the man agreed, waltzing away from the counter to the small round table to teach the children more about magic. Even as an Elemental Master, he still was a teacher at heart.
Soon after he was finished, and lectured a few teenagers not to magically graffiti the desks before they ran, Arlyn found himself smiling. Indeed, he couldn't remembered the last time he smiled recently. The peacefulness had returned. He could feel it in his very soul. He paced around the library more, wondering if anyone needed help or assistance with anything, but it appeared to not be so. He found himself wandered toward the other section of the library, spotting a familiar looking dark woman. He remembered that tear-like mark, it was so silver it nearly stood out amongst the others in the class. He must have taught a class in which she was in once, but he remembered she was only a child, not older then ten. Now she was a fully grown woman. How time had flied by. Arlyn was getting old.
He approached her, curious as to which book she was peering at. If he remembered correctly this was the section on magical creatures. He could see the large encyclopedia on all the creatures in which she held. What was her name again...? Shaecayrn? Arlyn was impressed at his own memory. He may have called on her a few times, but one thing he remembered the most was that she was alone, usually sitting by herself and not talking to the others. In a way that sort of reminded him of himself, as he always focused on his studies rather than making friends. Even now she was alone, seemingly lost within the study of magical creatures. Arlyn wondered what she was looking for.
"Shaecayrn," he greeted, standing closer and taking a seat for himself. "The last time I saw you, you were a student in one of my classes. How go your studies?" he asked, his eyes meeting the very book she read. He was in a pleasant mood, so it wasn't hard to see the contented smile on his face.
"Do you need any help searching for something?" he offered, looking back up at her face. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 9, 2017 2:05:31 GMT
She looked between the three books splayed open in front of her, and the one on magical creatures in her lap. Diligently, or even feverishly, her quill scratched across the paper. So absorbed was she that she didn't notice the passing of time. At first, she ignored the quiet footsteps that approached, assuming them to be one more student. However, when they stopped by her table, her dark eyes began to rise, narrowed into a glower from the small stacks of books surrounding her on the table. But her gaze didn't find a presumptuous student of the school. As he spoke her name, recognition came into her eyes, and Shaecayrn's glower swiftly retreated into a mask of neutrality as he pulled up a seat for himself and sat, beginning to inquire after her.
Inwardly, she gritted her teeth. She knew he meant well. Arlyn was kind, as most people went, and particularly so when he was content and happy, which, evident by his smile and manner he was. But the pleasantry grated on her. Despite her years at the school, she had never been treated well. Most of her overtures at friendship had been squashed early on, and children could be cruel to those that were looked at as outcasts. Perhaps she was lucky that Arlyn had never known her truly passed their passive contact of living in the same places. Otherwise he might ask more... probing questions.
Though her voice was polite, she was still slightly cool. It wasn't as though she was known for her warmth towards others though. "You have not seen me for quite some time, sir." She offered him a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My studies progress quicker than they used to, now that there are no mentors holding me back for fear of what might happen. I graduated years ago now." A small quirk lifted one corner of her lips. There had been much that she had learned on her own. due to the hesitancy of her mentors. There were not many gifted with the same thing she was talented in. But she no longer had them to hold her back. Now she could fly forward at her own speed.
His second question gave her pause, though. He was already eyeing the book in her hands and those on the table would not be far behind. Nervousness touched her. "Nothing in particular. I study and look into whatever draws my curiosity these days. The most recent thing has been... changing things. And what allows it within certain creatures. I suppose if there are more... detailed tomes upon such things, and you know where they are, that would be.. helpful." She tilted her head at him, the beads on her braids clinking softly.
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Master of Water
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 9, 2017 4:10:58 GMT
He asked the first question that came to his mind. "What kind of things?" he asked, although at first he held a bit of a precognitive suspicion, it did not last long. No, do not worry Arlyn, do not become anxious again. He tried to think to himself. She is only looking for what mages usually studied, there is no harm coming from it. Though, he did question the nature of why she wished to change things within certain creatures. Like their very construct? Their innards? Slowly killing them that way, Arlyn wasn't sure if he favored such a gruesome tactic, no matter the cause.
Still, he rose from his seat, walking toward the close shelves. He placed his wrinkled hands on the bindings of a few books, finding a few that could easily be overlooked. He took one then two out from the shelves. He wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but he had hoped that whatever she was doing was in the best interest. "These are on metamorphosis," he explained. "Though, I would be wary. Mages cannot change into things, like werebeasts can. Though, some mages have the ability to change the shapes of objects around them, if they are inanimate." Well, not that he hasn't seen trial and error of metamorphosis tested by mages. The results were usually catastrophic. He decided to leave that out, students, even if graduated, should not know those things. He couldn't remember the nature of her power exactly, but he was sure that it wasn't inclusive of the very ability, otherwise she may have already mastered it and wouldn't be here. Still remaining cautious, Arlyn returned to the table, taking the same chair that he sat in.
"Why is it you decide to study this... nature of magic?" he began, although his voice held a certain tone of suspicion, he tried his best to hide it. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 9, 2017 22:42:43 GMT
His first question received a small shrug. "All kinds of things. Everything, even." Shaecayrn watched as he stood up, wandering to the shelves, and let his fingers trail along books. He pulled down two, and returned, speaking of them. She nearly scoffed as he felt it necessary to remind her that mages, unlike werebeasts, could not shapeshift. Her thoughts ran swiftly through her mind. -That's what you think, old man. All of the teachers here have not been able to deny that my own powers lie far beyond any single one of their understandings... Perhaps it is merely past yours as well.- But she didn't voice these thoughts aloud. She even managed to resist snatching the books from his hands and beginning to read them immediately. Instead, she let him set them upon the table.
And then curbed herself from reaching further than to trace the bindings, as he sat down once again. A slightly more real smile graced her features before her eyes flicked back to study his features. She had never quite bothered to study her mentors, save for the one, now dead, who had left a true impression upon her. And though his voice held a tone of suspicion, hidden behind curiosity and polite conversation, she did not yet notice it. After all, he was old, and why would he suspect that she was anything but simply studying something out of pure curiosity?
One brow raised slightly. She couldn't quite answer him by simply saying she had met a dragon. Undoubtedly, he would consider her crazy and perhaps a danger to herself. That was if her own magic would allow her to mention that she had met a dragon at all... It might, so long as she did not reveal how he had helped her, or who he was. Nevertheless, she turned to a different explanation. Her own voice had warmed slightly as she responded. "I've always been fascinated by the manner in which things change. Decades now I have spent upon learning how inanimate things change. It is time to broaden my spectrum of knowledge. How to living things change? What is it that allows a werebeast to change from a humanoid shape to one of a beast? There must be magic involved, for such a dramatic shift sometimes denies the very rules you would expect of nature." She grew slightly more animated, having found a passion in this particular subject.
Her fingers moved upwards, tracing over her tear-streak, and then fiddling with a particularly vibrant stone among her beads. "If it is not nature that governs it, which doesn't make any logical sense, seeing as a man is a vastly different size from say, a bear, and yet were-bears exist... then it must be magic. And since it is magic there must have been somebody who once studied the magic and what it does, how it works..." At this point, she looked to him with her eyes alight as they only ever were when she was discovering something grand. "Mages may not be able to change their shape... but there's no harm in seeking more knowledge of how others change theirs." Her smile was much more real now, reaching her eyes. But behind the smile was a feverish light of obsession. But aside from that small light, she looked every bit harmless, simply a woman in search of more knowledge. A little quieter, she added. "Besides. Knowledge itself is true power, more so than the ability to change anything physically."
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 11, 2017 23:20:28 GMT
As he listened, his head bobbed up and down, nodding as his anxious face continued to hear. He had heard this before. What she was saying sounded... obsessive. As if she had delved into this study of metamorphosis with much emphasis. He couldn't blame her for being curious exactly, but it seemed as although she had focused on this area for a while now. And it was that which bothered him. But still, as a master of the school, he would have to let her do as she desires, since she was a free mage after all. As long as it didn't harm anyone. Although, he was beginning to have his doubts. It truly sounded like she was willing to figure it out at many costs, much like Suraci had done.
His aura darkened, and the mage kept his head low, almost hoping that no one would hear him. Although, what he was speaking of was not secretive in manner. But he did not wish for the others in the library to know what was going on between these two. If they got any ideas, well, then there would be more people to worry about. Change in itself wasn't a harmful magic, although tested on others it could prove to be deadly, if not gruesome. His tone was low, and grave as he spoke. "But the werebeasts eventually give in to their animal, if they do not know how to harness it," he argued. "It is a simple matter of nature of how they are. How they had evolved over centuries, a mage cannot perform within their very lifetime. Not even an immortal would know how to properly shift, no matter how strong their ability was." He had to get her to understand. The consequences of this. He could not see others harmed in such a way. The results are always catastrophic. She should end her study of it now, unless she meant to go about it in a light-hearted curious manner. Although he highly doubted it was the case. Suraci had always mentioned about light. How to figure more about light. How he wished to help people. Flashes in his mind of his own mentor being struck by lightening, after he had killed all those innocent people. It made Arlyn want to vomit.
"I advise you tread cautiously in this area of magic," he warned once again. He tried to think of more of what sort of purpose she desired from the outcome, even if she was able to perform it. Was it to turn her mount into something different? What if it turns into some sort of monster, attacking the people? Or unless...
"Do you... wish to change yourself?" he then asked, sharp blue eyes darting directly toward the woman. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 12, 2017 0:59:48 GMT
As she spoke, Shaecayrn felt as though she had kept herself both sufficiently polite, and lighthearted. Despite that effort, Arlyn seemed more and more nervous, and the mage wrinkled her nose slightly as he spoke of the werefolk losing themselves to the animal if they did not learn to control it. Even as he spoke, she murmured softly. "I study the magic of their shifting, sir, not what happens if they lack the will to control themselves." But she continued to listen polite, outside of that comment. The dark woman stopped herself from rolling her eyes as he spoke of how the evolution of a were-beast could not be completed in a mage's lifetime, and how even an immortal could not.
He seemed almost urgent, as if he was trying to impress upon her the danger of the thing she had chosen to research. Perhaps, he had seen through her charm. -Not that I am that talented of an actress, truly. I'd prefer he leave.- The thought was kept behind her eyes, which had become slightly more shielded at Arlyn's words. One corner of her lips, still in her charming half-smile, twitched slightly as he advised her to tread cautiously, again. It was the only sign of her irritation with him.
The beads in her braids clinked softly as she let the one she had begun to fiddle with go, falling back among its fellows. Almost black eyes turned to meet Arlyn's blue, and therein, caught glimpse of something.. fear? And then his question came, and for a moment, shock rippled through her, leaving her frozen. She had told him nothing, mentioned nothing of changing herself. Her hesitation could have been shock from the very idea that she might persue such an idea, or it could be that he had guessed correctly. She prayed, silently, that he assumed it was the first.
A smile spread across her lips, and she stifled a chuckle. "Change... myself? Heh. Sir, if I wished to change my own body, I do believe I would have tried to do such while I was still young and foolish, drunk on the sensation of my own power." Little did he know that she had, once before, attempted to change herself, to remove the mark that had labeled her so clearly a mage. Her very appearance, with skin nearly as black as the mark had been, and the mark itself silver to stand out all the more, had been the result. But she could hardly admit to such a thing now."I do believe that I can change enough of the things around me that I needn't worry about changing myself. I came to accept myself as I am long ago." Her hand traced her tearstreak once more, adn then the streaks that she had added herself. If he looked closely, he would be able to see that four of the streaks were made out of tiny, tattooed runes, spells written directly into her skin.
Her smile was a bit forced, but perhaps that was normal. After all, she had never truly been sociable or done much with others. This conversation alone was one of the longest she had had recently. Her hand delved into one of her many pockets, and pulled out a raw chunk of aquamarine crystal, and a piece small of what looked to be marble. "My skills do not lie within changing the flesh, sir, and I fear what might happen if I tried." To demonstrated, she let out a low, resonant hum, and her fingers molded around the rock for a moment. It heated within her hand, and continuing the hummed song, she pressed the image of what she wished the stones to be to the front of her mind. It was a simple enough spell for her, requiring no actual words, and no motion save her fingers running over the stone.
When she opened her palm only seconds later, she revealed a gleaming, aquamarine and grey figurine. It was a palm sized statue of him, with water splashing up around his feet and one strand of it spinning around him in a spiral. Her voice was soft as she offered it to him. "Transmutation is something my own talents include, Master of Water, but I have no wish to use it upon the flesh of the living, myself or others." She poured every ounce of sincerity she could manage into the statement, eyes meeting his directly, hoping that he would believe her.
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 12, 2017 5:11:44 GMT
"Alright," he said cautiously, his old fingers reaching to take the miniature statue of him. When he had asked her she had said the reason to it was her fascination with change. But now it seemed odd. She seemed rather defensive in her answer, speaking of werebeasts before and now changing rocks. Something wasn't right. Whatever she wanted to change, it couldn't be for a good purpose. Arlyn set down the statue down on the table, the least of his concerns with it. Instead, he turned his attention back to her.
"Though, I advise you, do not temper with forces you do not know of," he warned once more. He wanted to leave her be and be done with it, but he knew that whatever was going on here should be stopped, at all lengths possible. He probably seemed more forthcoming than prior, but he had to make sure that she knew that she was dealing with. Hesitantly, Arlyn stood. He made his way toward one of the bookshelves, slowly pulling out a strange-looking book. Bindings nearly falling apart, and it looked worn. He let it drop to the table with a loud thud, the dust immediately blowing off its cover. He then took it, flipping through the old, tattered pages. Until he found what he was looking for.
The pictures of what lied on the pages were indeed quite frightening. Monsters, deformed, looking creatures. They held a grotesque figure about them, all twisted and bloodied. Eyes where there shouldn't be. Multitude numbers of arms. Mouths hanging out from their faces, drooling onto the floor. Some were an odd mixture of animals, some were missing heads. Indeed, it was not for the feint of heart. But those were not ordinary monsters. Those were those who tried practicing metamorphosis, trying to transform themselves into things they were not. They were drawings, but accurate ones nonetheless.
"This is what will happen if you try it," his voice nearly boomed, although he tried to remain quiet within the library. But he hoped that this was enough to dissuade her otherwise. He would leave the decision to her, but if she indeed chose to continue to practice, if she continued upon this path, many would be in danger. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 12, 2017 18:24:53 GMT
She watched him, knowing that he wasn't really convinced. At least, he certainly didn't seem to be. He set the small gift of the figurine down, and then turned his sharp eyes back to her. His voice, while still quiet, was yet another warning, and Shaecayrn's irritation rose. Her control, thankfully, held firm, and her expression didn't change until he stood and turned away. Her eyes narrowed into a glower, on hand clenching in her irritation. For a very brief moment, she tilted her head, letting her hair fall forward to cover her expression until she regained control. When she looked up, he was at a bookshelf, pulling an odd looking tome down.
Confusion flitted across her face as he carried it back and let it drop onto the table with a hefty thump. The old cover all but tore itself off, or so it seemed as the cloud of dust rose. Now she began to wonder what this book was, that it was so untouched as to gather this much dust. Her eyes followed the page flips and then looked up at him, and then back to the pages full of pictures. They were deformed beasts. Some part man, part beast, the others missing pieces. Whoever had decided to draw it had taken quite a bit of time to ensure the horrific details of the consequences of trying to change their body.
His voice seemed to echo, booming through the library for no other reason than the fact that the rest of the room was so quiet. Her eyes stared at him for a moment, and then moved from his face, which had turned stern, and back to the book. Unfortunately, her temper now broke. Slowly, she set her hands upon the table, fingers like shadows upon the worn wood, and she stood up slowly.
Stone beads clinked musically as she moved, and her voice had lost all hint of warmth to it. It was downright cold, and quiet. "I do believe you have made your point, Water Master. I understand the dangers of the magic that I have chosen to look at in my curiosity and idle time. As I have already expressed that I have no desire to change my own skin... what more do you want from me?" The last four words came out accompanied by her eyes narrowed as her irritation with his meddlings finally showed itself outwardly.
Anger tensed her hands against the table, and she struggled for the moment to keep her magic from lashing out the way she used to when angry. It would not do to get herself banned from the library for being destructive, for her instinctual attacks almost always were. More so, it would not do to attack an elemental master, no matter how irritating he had become.
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Master of Water
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 13, 2017 9:21:50 GMT
His gaze toward her was extremely grave. His eyes seemed to turn even a darker shade of blue, as his hand immediately reached for the book, slamming it shut. "To end this. Do not venture into this study further. You have already mastered the art of transforming objects. I advise you. Do not study this any further," he said angrily. "Forget all you have seen here. Live on with your life, you are free from the school now. But risk the lives of those around you, is to make yourself an enemy of not only the school, but the entire alliance." He stood, appearing to be looming over the entire table with his presence. He was close to sending the books flying from the surface, but they stayed in their place as he did not move. His gaze did not avert from her either. This time, he decided to speak loudly, so that the whole library could hear.
"The art of change is one that should not be pursued. Have a good day," he then moved, making his way toward the side of the library to where the librarian was. He couldn't speak to her any longer, as he would cause an outrage if he did. He thought his worries were over. But, now there was this. He could still feel that there was something... wrong, about what she was saying. I felt as if although she meant to become a werebeast, or to perhaps turn someone or something else into a horrifying creature. She did not even look frightened when he had shown her the pages. Rather, she looked calm about it. Smiling gently as she tried to point out to him that she wasn't going to pursue that. But... he felt as if it were a lie. But one he could not prove, only guess.
As he reached the counter, he turned a serious glance at the librarian. "Make sure none of the books go missing," he ordered in a harsh whisper, before taking toward the doors again. The librarian only gave a confused nod, wondering what he meant by that. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 13, 2017 18:20:38 GMT
While half of her fumed, the other half watched him with cool clarity. He was angry. Fearful even. This part of her reveled in that fear, amused that he was so scared that she was looking into this branch of magic. What was he so scared of? Was he scared that she would just harm herself, or others? Or did he fear that she might actually succeed? From here she watched his eyes darken, listened to his heated words, dangerously quiet.
The half of her that fumed felt a swell of rebellion. She took his warning of making an enemy out of the school as a threat, nostrils flaring slightly. Wanting to let loose instinctual magic, she let one hand begin to clench, subtly letting the energy turn the wood into stone as he stood, looming over the table. The look she directed at him was not too different from that of a cornered wolf, head down but eyes anything but submissive. Her black stare leveled a challenge at him, sending a clear message that, regardless of his rank, he held no power over her. And whatever respect had been offered was not withdrawn.
He raised his voice, and it echoed around the library once again, making it clear that now everyone should know what she was up to, that she had been told no. She hissed after him "I am not some student to be told what I am allowed to study." Whether he heard her or not didn't matter, as he was already walking away with swish of robes.
Slowly, she settled back into her seat, reining in her anger and letting the cold, numbness of ice flow through her and chill herself into calmness. Her eyes landed upon the figurine, beautiful in the dark grey and aquamarine colors that made it up. Shaecayrn's glower returned for a moment at the reminder of him. She picked it up, running her fingers upon it, and changing the figuring slightly. The splashes of water became more jagged, and the water spiral turned from smooth to sharp, it's tip shifting to curve around, pointing straight towards the figurine's nonexistent heart. She stuffed it into a pocket of her cloak for later.
Swiftly, she moved now. She changed the stone handprint upon the wood back to the dark wood of the table. The stacks of books involving transmutation flew back to their shelves swiftly and without error. She had a feeling that they would not be much help to her. In fact, in all his fear, perhaps in hopes that he would instill that fear within her, Arlyn may had just handed her the key. Shaecayrn didn't dare leave the library so soon after he had confronted her. Let some time pass. But she swept away from her table, moving to one that was tucked far back among the shelves, away from others. She had to light a lamp to ensure that there was enough light.
Then, and only then did she dare to flip open the first of the three books he had given her. Perhaps they would shed some light upon this metamorphosis he so feared.
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Master of Water
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 14, 2017 9:50:06 GMT
It had been two days since that happened.
Arlyn awoke within the large bed, slowly gathering himself to get up and begin another day. So far, ever since the occurrence in the library, nothing in particular had happened. He had never seen the woman around the campus, nor has he heard from the librarian, although he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. He had gotten ready for the day, getting himself washed and dressed and such. The elderly mage walked over to his study, the bright morning light filtering in through the tall windows. The white tint lit onto his desk, over his familiar pages. As he made his way closer, he saw something vey peculiar. It was a miniature statue, of him, crafted from aquamarine. Although this time, the waves made their way into the man's heart. His eyes darted to the thing closest to it. A note sat next to it. Quickly, he reached to pick up the thing, glancing it over as he read what lay within the small page.
"Not all of us are ruled by fear."
At that moment, he heard a sound. Immediately looking up from the paper, the statue had gathered itself into a bundle of liquid, the water headed straight toward his own heart. With his other free hand the mage manipulated the water by reaction, waving his arm to the side as it repeated his action with a swift motion, blasting it into the wall. It left its mark on the wall, the water slowly trickling down from where it had landed. What had just happened? Arlyn breathed slowly, taking time to process what had just taken place. He looked again at the note. He remembered, that was the statue she made of him. But what did this mean? Was she going to pursue the very thing he so told her to avoid? No, he couldn't let this happen. She wasn't a student of the school but it may as well put them in danger. At the very least, he had to try and figure out what was going on. He turned around promptly, leaving the note fluttering in the air as it landed on the ground, making no hesitation in his step.
He headed down the main corridor, looking for anyone that could potentially be her. But, he knew that he might have already been too late. How did she manage to get into his study anyway? He was only processing this now, looking amongst the sea of students that paced from class to class, some of them nodding in respect toward the Master of Water. But he continued to wait, standing as he searched. What she had done had been in defiance of him, that much he knew. But what was she gong to try? What message was she sending him? That she was going to try and that no one can stop her? He couldn't believe in such arrogance. Such youth that was mages drunk on their own power. Unless, it was a cry for help.
Either way, he had to find her. Searching across the school, pacing quickly through the halls, bridges, towers. He did not see the dark woman. There was only one other place to try... His eyes averted to the side, he turned around once more, this time running. He had to make it there before she did. too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 14, 2017 18:26:37 GMT
She had tucked herself in the back corner of the library, found her way up to one of the balconies, and essentially disappeared. The first two books were useful, but barely. They spoke only of the theory, but nothing of how to put it into action. She took thorough notes, but once she was finished with them, set them aside. It was at some early morning hour, at that point, but she was still within the library. She had not been found. But then, few would actually check the back corners of the balconies, and her very coloring was usually enough to keep her from being discovered in the shadows.
Eventually, that night, she read herself to sleep.
She woke up with a start several hours later, and began her studies of the last book, all but falling apart in her lap. What she found within was enough to make her skin crawl and her scalp prickle. But she could not stop herself from continuing to read this particular mage's accounts on his or her experiments, and those of other mages who were trying similar ones.
Arlyn had handed her the very key that she had needed to have even the slightest chance of success. The image of the stony, enormous figure filled her mind once more, and then was followed by a different one, the daydream sweeping her up into what she might look like if she succeeded. It was only a few moments before the mage pulled herself back to reality.
These mages that had tried failed. And there was a reason, but why? The rest of that day was spent trying to determine what it was. In the end, during the early hours of the morning, she discovered what it was. Power. They had lacked the power to continue, and so drained life forces, or stopped half way. In order to complete the metamorphasis she would need a lot more power than just her physical body could do. This realization narrowed her eyes as her mind began planning swiftly.
First her notes got tucked away, and then she stared at the old dusty tome for a moment. That was tucked away as well, though she waved a hand over it, murmuring until it had the same appearance of her own leather-bound tome. On the shelf, on of the books shifted as well. The leather binding cracked and the covers were dusty and old. She tucked the book into a pocket then, and pulled the shadows around her.
She avoided the librarian in a mixture of luck and skill, the shadows keeping her hidden until she slipped out the door and down the corridor. It was the early hours of the morning for now, before classes started and she went to her room, one of the many guest rooms, and packed everything up. For a moment, she pulled out the figuring she had made, and shifted it once again, bringing the aquamarine stabbing through the grey man's chest.
It took her about fifteen minutes to find her way to Arlyn's study, murmuring over the figuring as she tied a delayed spell into it. She set the figurine upon Arlyn's desk, scribbling a note upon a scrap of parchment.
'Not all of us are ruled by fear.'
He would see. She would succeed where others had failed. She had no need to fear the consequences, for they would not hit her as they had others.
Only after that did she slip back to her own room, gathering her sparce belongings and changing into her travel clothing. Her way out was through the beginning of students awakening and heading to the dining hall. There they would eat. While they ate, she would leave... The stables, as ever, were quiet, and her horse was nibbling upon the hay left for him in his stall, his grain bucket already empty. The stablehands were up even earlier than the rest of everyone, ensuring that everyone who needed to could leave early.
As it was, the dawn had barely turned into a full sunrise when she led the dapple grey gelding out into the sunlight, double and then triple checking each buckle and strap of his tack. Her fingers stroked over his fur for a brief moment, as she apologized in advance for how hard she was about to push him to his limits. With a light hearted clinking of her beaded braids, she swung into the saddle, turning to look at the school one last time.
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Master of Water
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Post by Arlyn Norwood on Aug 15, 2017 5:53:54 GMT
Arlyn made it to one of the balconies of the school, trying to get a better view from up there. He squinted his eyes and even shielded them with one hand, gazing out into the distance. She had to still be here, he had to catch her before she could leave. After a few moments of staring he turned away, not seeing anything as he tried to make his way to the next spot. That was when... he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Like a shimmer. Down below, a woman dressed in darkness upon a horse, a sparkle to her face. It was that mark! Arlyn rushed to the edge, placing two hands on the railing as he looked down in surprise. It appeared she was leaving the stable, heading toward the distance outside of the school and into the Wildes. There were only a few other teachers nearby on the balcony.
"Stop her!" he yelled. Having no time to waste, the mage rose one hand, causing many nearby fountains of water to erupt, springing high into the air toward the mage. He jumped over the ledge, moving his arms in rapid movements as he rode along the wave, surfing down to get to her. Once he reached the ground he missed her, the horse taking off at incredible speed. He still sprinted after her. "Stop!" he yelled, running quickly. His voice was almost pleading rather than demanding. He hoped other teachers would find a way, and they did. Balls of fire came from different directions, along with lasers of many hues, although they all seemed to miss the woman on the horse. One last attempt, Arlyn waved one hand, causing a nearby pond to spin in the air, heading toward her like a dart. It spun like a drill, although he did not aim to harm her, just get her off the horse. Of course, that missed as well.
Arlyn slowed in his steps, watching as Shaecayrn continued in the other direction. He didn't have enough energy to catch up with her. However, other teachers approached, ready to assist him as they can. He turned around to face them. "We need her back here, before it's too late," he said, and immediately they headed toward her direction, but Arlyn merely stood there as he watched.
Oh Shaecayrn. What are you planning to do now...? too close to the sun tags: none word Count: 000 notes: none
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Authored by Fyra.
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Post by shaecayrn on Aug 16, 2017 19:36:27 GMT
She was about to start riding lazily away, saddlebags secure, if heavy, and her cloak draping over the dapple-grey gelding's rump. As she turned his head towards the gate, she heard Arlyn shout. He had found her note, and her trap, no doubt, and now came to stop her. Shimmer looked over her shoulder, catching sight of Arlyn surfing down a wave made from the fountains in the courtyard and other places of the school. So much for a peaceful exit. Other teachers had come to Arlyn's call.
Heels dug into her mount's ribs, and the horse whinnied a protest as he half reared before at the suddenness of the demand. But he took off anyway. Faintly, she heard Arlyn's voice, almost pleading rather than commanding, and she ignored it. But her focus didn't remain upon him. Instead, she focused herself into ripping apart the spells that the other teachers flung at her, absorbing the energy into herself and her stones. All of them were shredded, leaving smoke and sparks as she passed, and the energy filled her until she was all but statically charged. She would have to put it somewhere.
Quietly she murmured a spell for speed, pouring it into her mount until his hoofbeats came at an unnatural pace. He had always been fast. Now he was even faster. But she felt a bit of pity as she knew the cost that the spell would bring. It would draw on her horse as well as her own reserves, and by the time they reached the Duskmire... he may well go lame. But it would have to be risked.
But for now, the horse ran, tireless and without flagging. A streak of grey running through forest and meadow alike in the dawn.
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