Jump to content

Temple of Myth [IC]


Draconus297

Recommended Posts

It was a beautiful, crisp September morning. Clouds lazily drifted across the sky . . . below the Isle in the Sky, as it was currently somewhere over the Alps. The higher-flying cirrus clouds drifted above the Isle, but the fluffy little cumulus clouds generally skirted the sides of the incongruous floating landmass.

 

The Twin Academies, on opposite sides of the bustling (if currently rather sleepy) city of Nova Pax, each rang their bells to call their students to the opening statements of their respective heads . . . and giving the owners of the various shops good indicator of when shopping would commence. Exceptionally wealthy denizens of the Isle began to order their Eorida slaves to dress them, farmers finally had enough light to get to this morning's bit of early harvest, and the singular Dryad who ruled the Isle's meadows and forests did a head count of her beloved Hamadryads.

 

One could almost be fooled into believing this was an ordinary morning . . . were it not for the deep craters pockmarking the land. The Trifles were currently pinned down in the forest, held back by the most powerful mages most of the kingdoms and empires in the world could spare to fling at the bizarre invading force. Their numbers were nigh-endless, it seemed, and even the powerful mages tasked to hold them off grew fatigued, leaving them to spread like a cancer across the Isle's southern forest. They were contained for now, but even the Academies had trimmed their typical curriculum of poetry, language, politics, and natural philosophy for a military magic course that dominated the day.

 

Which was, incidentally, on the minds of both Academy heads as they finished addressing the world's magical youth . . .

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Akukho burst through the doors of the great hall, virtually miles ahead of everyone else. He wanted to be the first one to get to test out his magic in an actual fight

 

[[Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I'm finally gonna be able to show everyone how I got here! I bet all my friends are so excited for that. I'm excited for that! I'm so excited I could just run!]]

 

As his frosted hair tips and rough leather mantle flapped in the wind, his two toes slapping against the polished stone floor, he came to a realization. 

 

[[Wait a second, I AM running!]]

 

It was a good thing he was miles ahead of the rest of the school, because he was pretty sure that his wings would be showing what with how fast he was going. He slowed his pace to a brisk walk, and for some reason, decided to start walking backwards, though still heading in the same direction as before. With his deep dark eyes, he saw the rest of the students beginning to emerge from the hall. Akukho stuck his stick of an arm in the air and waved back at them, hoping for a silent reply. And then, he tripped, falling straight on his back.

 

"=[i'm okay!]=" he said from the floor, sticking his arm up in the air again.

 

((Side note to Speedy: italics typically indicate internal thoughts. But because I used italics as an emphisiser here, only the colored italics are internal thought))

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Angharad was being smothered by the sheer amount of people around her. They weren't exactly being loud, it was just that their cumulative breathing felt deafening.

 

*Morning address is silly. We should spend less time being told about the threat the Trifles pose, and more time learning how to fight them. And more time flying through clouds... Yes, if I cast that spell I should be able drink the water in the cloud while flying! And if I...*

 

*Angharad!*, a sharp whisper brought her out of the daydream. *You're floating.*

 

It was Gwenllyan, her friend, making sure she didn't get into trouble. Angharad realised that she must have muttered an incantation by accident while thinking about flying, so she lowered herself - by just a quarter of an inch - back onto the bench.

 

*Wind spells' advantage of having comparatively short incantations can also be a disadvantage. Fortunately, magic without any intention behind it seems to be much weaker. Interesting.*

 

*Oh, umm, thanks Gwen*, she whispered back, feeling slightly guilty for not remembering her friend sooner.

 

The address was coming to a close. Angharad was itching to get outside and use some magic, and wilfully this time!

 

"/Dismissed!/" /*Dismissed!*/ >Dismissed!< ... , The Professor began to dismiss the students in every language she knew.

 

The translators joined in, but they weren't needed. When one section of the crowd stood up, everyone in the hall understood what was being said.

 

Angharad helped Gwenllyan with her water tank, as they both found their way outside and over to the river. They could both instinctively tell that it was safe - once, the water had been cursed for a whole week, presumably by the Trifles. They lowered themselves into the water and started practising controlling the water, manipulating it into different shapes and directions.

 

*This is wonderful, isn't it?*. said Gwenllyan merrily.

 

*Yes. Water is fascinating.*, said Angharad with a smile.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Johnathan was pleased when the academy had given a military-style class. It was not heard of previously, but he enjoyed it. He never enjoyed all of those other classes.

 

When the school had finished with the class and the other short classes, Jonathan had gone down to a small stream on the east side of the island. He had known that his tutor was a water Mage, and had gone down the path many times.

 

* I think I should fly, today. I need a bit more time to perfect it.* He had said, perfectly in Welsh.

 

He leaped into the air, barely above the trees, started to hover(with a short phrase *Guide me where art I wish to fly.*), and began to follow the stream. It had turned south for a few moments, and Johnathan could see the southern forest. He always wondered why it looked so quiet, and yet be filled with defending mages and trifles. It was a creepy thought, and his staff began to shake. He knew he was shivering. He continued on, trying to ignore it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Christine

 

Christine strolled into the Academy of Sword's front doors, dressed in more formal attire than usual and fully disguised to come across as a male student. It would be flawless, but her face was still too fair to be very boy-ish. Nevertheless, the idea was to move in with confidence and not draw any attention to yourself.

 

""So far so good, seems like you're going to make it,"" A voice whispered in her ear. This voice belong to Kai, the anima of the ornate katana strapped to Christine's waist.

 

""Quiet, I'm trying to blend in. The last thing I need is everyone to know I have an anima with me,"" Christine hissed under her breath. ""Just try to keep yourself from manifesting; the last thing I need is a super tall samurai standing in the middle of the hall.""

 

""Maybe it'll make you very popular, who knows--"

 

"Excuse me, miss?" A voice spoke from behind Christine, who did her best to ignore it, but soon felt a hand on her shoulder, wrenching her around. Behind her was a guard, peering down at her with angry eyes. "This school is for males only, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

 

"Excusez-moi?" Christine replied, lowering her voice enough to feasibly pass as a male but not enough to make it obvious. "Are you sayeeng that I am gerrl?"

 

"Miss, don't play dumb with me, I know a--"

 

"Pardon, but just because I 'ave a pretty face, does not mean you insult my man'ood!"

 

"I-I'm sorry?" The guard's expression began to soften.

 

"I'll 'ave you know my papa is verry influential man, if 'e knew zat zere was staff 'ere zat was making fun of my appearance?"
 

The guard swallowed loudly.

 

"Zere would be 'ell to pay!"

 

"I-I'm sorry sir, my mistake. Good luck with your studies." The guard bowed and returned to his post, Christine making a quiet "Hmph!" noise as she turned around and headed to find her accommodations.

 

""That was some quick thinking there, good job,"" Kai whispered out once more.

 

""Do me a favor and quiet down, I'm trying to blend in!"" Christine hissed back once more. 
 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

[spoiler=Random Trivia] September 8, 1530, the day the RP is starting on, was a Thursday.

 

 

There was a demonstration going on in the fields on either side of the Academies- captured Trifles bound and silenced by Seals, about a solid dozen for each Academy.

 

Unusually, however, there was a Lunar Gate being held open- the girls and boys of the Academies were getting glimpses of one another, leading to nervous adjustments of clothes and hair in an effort to look good for one another, as a crippled old Elf walked between the Gateways.

 

""To familiarize you with these creatures, several human mages at the front lines have Sealed them. These . . . are Trifles,"" the haggard French elf said dramatically, as translators bustled about to make sure all students understood the singular lecture. ""Now, who can tell me how a Seal works?""

 

An eager Japanese youth on the Wand side of the gate was extremely quick to answer. >A Seal is not an encanted spell, it's pure willpower. Because a Sealing Spell has no incantation, it can be cast without warning, but it also means that if you lack the sheer bullheaded force of will, you'll only tie yourself up in it. Dark magic has no Sealing Spells, but given their many options to debilitate a foe without them, it would be superfluous.<

 

After waiting for a quick translation, the birch-branch-headed Elf nodded sagely. ""Indeed. So, the mages will release their Seals over these enemies to give you a chance to practice them. Now, I ask for two dozen volunteers- who thinks they have the sheer force of will to Seal a Trifle?""

 

The Trifles were decidedly not amused, chattering away in an inexplicable tongue. However, no spells were cast, so obviously it was merely infuriated protest. They were tiny, each only about two feet tall, and covered in metallic blue scales. They wore armor that looked indistinguishable from cloth, and there was no sign of the unusual wands they tended to carry- likely confiscated or destroyed.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Angharad heard that they were asking for twenty-four volunteers to try Sealing a Trifle. She debated with herself as to whether she should volunteer.

 

*I'd rather not risk making a fool of myself in front of others, but taking this opportunity to learn is more important than that.*

 

"I volunteer!", she shouted so that the old elf hear her, despite her words needing to translated anyway.

 

---

 

As it was reaching her turn, Angharad began to feel apprehensive about the Sealing. Some of the students succeeded and others had failed. It was clear that it was by no means an easy task, and in fact some of the otherwise more magically competent volunteers hadn't done so well.

 

"Angharad ferch Gwillim. It is now your turn. Please step forward.", an instructor called out. "Prepare your mind and focus on the specific intent to Seal. When you are ready, one Trifle will be released: you are to Seal it."

 

She took a few breaths and considered how she would Seal.

 

"I am ready."

 

One Trifle was released, and it immediately scurried away. Angharad was ready though, and she quickly pointed her Sarenji wood wand and brought her will down onto the Trifle. Its movements slowed, and it appeared as if trapped in a bubble. The crowd looked on with anticipation, silently willing for their peer to succeed, while being careful not to provide any actual willpower.

 

---

 

Angharad grimaced as the Trifle pressed back against her Seal. She dug her feet into the ground as if physically pushing against a wall of rock. The Trifle writhed around but steadily gained more control over its movements. Angharad redoubled her efforts and felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of her head into her ear. The Trifle, however, mockingly began to dance with the small amount of movement allowed to it. Suddenly, it turned and stood perfectly still, staring directly into Angharad's eyes. She tried to look away, but couldn't, and her willpower was broken. The Trifle ran towards her, but was quickly re-Sealed in place by some of the instructors. Angharad paced the last few yards towards it and spat at it before walking back through the crowd and to Gwenllyan.

 

*I did alright, didn't I?*, she asked her friend, confident now in her Sealing ability.

 

*Oh.*, Gwenllyan replied with a look of pity on her face.

 

Angharad was confused, but then an instructor walked up to the two of them.

 

"Angharad. I realise that that must have been rather embarrassing for you,"

 

Her confusion doubled.

 

"But I want to invite you to a join a course on Sealing, designed specifically for those who are having difficulty grasping the technique."

 

"Embarrassing? Difficulty?", Angharad replied. She thought she'd done rather well at the Sealing.

 

"Well, you only lasted eight seconds, and even that was clearly a struggle for you."

 

*But it felt like hours!*

 

Angharad panicked slightly, and Gwenllyan pulled her friend in for a consoling hug.

 

*There there.*

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Johnathan knew he should volunteer, but he wasn't sure whether he could. He had questioned whether he could do it. Than he remembered a time when he was young. His father beating him. He remembered his will to become better, to not squirm, and to take it like a man. He knew this may be his first actual trial. Being who he was, he found most easy, but this is SEALING, after all, which doesn't have much to do with knowledge.

 

He was in line behind a female, Angharad ferch Gwillim, as the instructor said her name to be. He had seen her efforts in sealing the Trifle, and he had felt embarrassed for her. He now became anxious, but shook it off. He knew he had to stay calm.

 

"Johnathan Gwalter. It is now your turn. Please step forward." an instructor called out. "Prepare your mind and focus on the specific intent to Seal. When you are ready, one Trifle will be released: you are to Seal it."

 

He felt sweat drip from his head, adrenaline from his heart, and willpower from head to toe. He pulled out his staff.

 

"I am ready."

 

The Trifle ran as he did with Angharad, running, trying to flee. He released his will onto the Trifle, pushing all of his will through his trusty staff. It summoned a Trifle sized tornado, whipping slow enough not to grab anything else, but fast enough to contain it. He felt his will start to diminish. He remembered his memory, and held onto the will.

 

He started to smile, because it had been 1 to 2 minutes. He looked briefly into the crowd, and saw someone with white hair.

 

'Eordies'! He thought.

 

He felt his will disapate. He felt his adrenaline disappear. And his miny tornado was gone, leaving a very dizzy Trifle.

 

"Well done." The instructor said. "Certainly not the best, but not bad at all. And an interesting use of a wind seal. Well done."

 

His assistants quickly sealed the Trifle very easily. Johnathan thought 'How he could I do it that easily?' He stepped down back into the crowd of males, and saw the white haired male. It had been his old friend, Ceasar(named after the Roman Emperor). He laughed at his foolishness, and watched the next volunteers.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Christine

 

The students were gathered in front of a bunch of Trifles in a way to demonstrate sealing magic, the teachers requesting volunteers to demonstrate their magic.

 

""Are you going to volunteer?"" Kai's voice whispered in her ear.

 

""Of course not, I don't know that much magic,"" Christine whispered back.

 

""Come now, all you need is bull-headed force of will, it's right up your alley!"" 

 

Christine growled under her breath. ""I thought the point was to lie low, I don't want to draw too much attention to myself.""

 

""The goal is for glory and fame! Besides, it's only two dozen, how much will you stand out?""

 

Christine thought for a moment. ""Fine."" Christine stepped forward. ""I volunteer as well!""

 

one of the girls had embarrassed herself, and the next boy hadn't done too shabby. Most of the other participants were around middle of the pack, however. ""Chris d'Andrezel, your turn."" the instructor requested. Christine stepped up and focused on the trifle, exerting as much of her will as she can. The Trifle found itself ensnared in a small tornado, similar to the previous boy's but larger in size. Christine growled, focusing on the trifle as intently as she can, when she hard from the crowd several of the other boy students whispering.

 

""Hey, does that guy look like a girl to you?""

 

""Must be a wimp, or something.""

 

"Great, another pretty boy pussy in the school." 

 

Christine growled under her breath and the tornado began to grow and disperse, enough for the trifle to get away from the seal as it broke apart.

 

"Zut alors!" Christine cursed, the seal hadn't been up very long.

 

""Mr. d'Andrezel, a first year correct? Not very good but you will improve in time."" The instructor said, looking down at Christine with an expression of disappointment and pity. Christine nodded, and sulked back into the crowd.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

""Now, I ask for two dozen volunteers- who thinks they have the sheer force of will to Seal a Trifle?""

 

This was all Akukho heard of the elf's speech as he emerged from the great hall, dusting off his mantle with both his hands. 

 

[[Ooooh, a chance to show off my skills! I'll seal a truffle so good that no one else will be able to eat it but me!]]

 

"=[i'll do it! Mememe!!!]=" Akukho blurted as he jumped up and down waving his arm, trying to stand out among the sea of faces (even though he already towered over most of them).

 

The elf looked straight at him, and pointing his walking stick, nodded. ""You seem like the most experienced, so I shall have you go last. That way the younger students can see how a proper sealing is done.""

 

[[Hahaha, he thinks I'm old.]]

 

-----

As Akukho watched the other 23 students seal the Triffles, he grew confused. [[Where's the candy? I thought we were trying to stop candy thieves...?]]

 

Lost in thought, Akukho did not hear what the elder elf was saying. ""Lastly, we have this fine young man. He is highly skilled in his magic, and as such we shall have no mages assist him in the sealing. Go on, young man.""

 

Akukho was still swimming in his own brain juices when the elf tapped him with his cane. "=[ Huh? Sorry, what was that? I was concentrating on...]=" The translator was translating very quickly, almost word for word. ""Yes, concentrating. That is the key to a proper sealing. Watch carefully now children,"" said the elf, facing the children. ""Show them how a real mage seals a Triffle."" he said, this time to Akukho.

 

"=[Alrighty. Do these blue things have the truffles?]=" He said, pointing towards one of the Triffles. 

 

And with that gesture, the mage released the seal binding the Triffle. "=[uh oh!]=" These were the only words to slip from Akukho's mouth before his vesion was consumed with blue. The Triffle had leapt from the ground onto Akukho's shoulders, and was scanning the area for an escape route.

 

"[[bury my foes in a wave of Earth! Let the fertile soils rise up and crash upon them with the force of Gaia!]]

 

Akukho uttered this spell without thinking, and as soon as it left his lips he knew it was the wrong decision. the soil around the stone paths rose up and formed itself into a wave, just like he wanted it to, and it crashed down on everyone present. Except for the Triffle. The Triffle bounded off of his shoulders as soon as it heard him speaking, and was off to who knows where before the dark wave descended. 

 

""You foolish boy, you were supposed to seal it, not bury it! How could you have let the Triffle escape?! You should be sent back to first year class! "" shouted the elf, face flushed with rage. 

 

The translator made an attempt to convey the elf's words in a way that wasn't hurtful.

 

"[[but I am in first year classes. I'm 12, mister.]]"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The field was uncomfortably still, on both sides of the gate. No one dared speak, with the sheer trembling rage in the old Elf's eyes, and the mild panic making the Professors on both sides quake.

 

Most of the assembled students and staff had been on the Isle in June, when the attack began; they remembered the sheer power these invaders displayed, their speed and ferocity, the nigh-endless numbers of blue demon-midgets that poured forth from the forests and the skies in droves. You could tell who had lost loved ones, who had seen their homes go up in flames, by watching the faces in the crowd. One lost Trifle could easily signal the others, tell its brethren where the Academies were.

 

The Headmistress of the Academy of Wand stepped forward, finally, an elegant (if rather Amazonian) Byzantine carrying a Sarenji crossbow, primed with a bolt of pure lightning. //I'm going to track the monster. It's likely headed for the forest. All the captured ones are to be killed, then dissected. Have I made myself clear?// Her aide, a mousy woman who nearly looked like a nun, made sure to translate into most of the more common languages, and the other interpreters rippled the translation outward.

 

One of the Professors on the Sword side whistled, and whispered to his students, elbowing Christina in particular "In her language, her title is Omorfi Astrapi Sfika, literally the Beautiful Lightning Hornet. Not without good reason, no?" Speaking up, he said, "I'm a Dark mage, Romagna level. If anything, I can cast a quick gravity spell, smash their brains to leave the rest for study. I wish you the best of luck, madame, and may God favor your speedy success."

 

//I should return before noon, worry not. It is only one of them, unarmed and half-starved.// She quickly could be seen sensing the ground . . . and smiled softly. //It's still rather fast . . . I think this will be a fun hunt.// With that, she sped off to the south, propelling herself on a jet of flame.

 

Almost casually, the Professor who spoke up cast an incantation: "Pressing force, increase and crush my enemies, reduce them to a pulp with the force they cannot see . . . "

 

Loudly, messily, twenty-three Trifle heads imploded simultaneously, the flesh distorted, bone poking past, thoroughly disturbing some and exciting others.

 

^God damn it, Westwood,^ the Headmaster of the Academy of Sword muttered under his breath. ^Impatient as ever.^

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Christine

 

A tall, ostrich gerude followed after Christine to volunteer, and went from successfully sealing the Trifle to... letting them all go with a wave of earth. Christine breathed a sigh of relief that somebody else was now attracting the attention, negative or otherwise, of everyone gathered out in the court. One of the teachers addressed the crowd about catching the escaped Trifle, and soon Christine felt a light jab in her rib.

 

"In her language, her title is Omorfi Astrapi Sfika, literally the Beautiful Lightning Hornet. Not without good reason, no?" One of the professors whispered among the other students. Christine looked back, and couldn't quite see what the professor meant by "hornet". The professor then spoke up louder. "I'm a Dark mage, Romagna level. If anything, I can cast a quick gravity spell, smash their brains to leave the rest for study. I wish you the best of luck, madame, and may God favor your speedy success."

 

Not long after the professor spoke an incantation and the heads of the trifles practically burst like balloons before them. Christine grimaced and suppressed a gag as she watched what happened, and discreetly turned her head away from what was going on.

 

"So what are we doeeng until then?" Christine asked the professor who had used the dark magic. Dark magic had interested Christine in the past, but the manner that the professor had used it didn't feel very attractive to her.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Angharad was in shock. A Trifle had escaped, then mud had been thrown everywhere, then... what? Spatterings of Trifle blood and chunks of Trifle brain covered the ground, as well as people's clothes, faces and hair. Angharad wasn't usually the sort to obsess over cleanliness, but this was Trifle muck - and that was dirty. She tried to flick some goo out of her fringe, but it stuck to her finger.

 

Staff members were running about in panic, some trying to protect the students and others searching for the missing Trifle. It was agreed that the students should be escorted back to their various dormitories and common rooms, where they would be safer. As they were walking back the main building, Angharad and Gwenllyan were approached by one of the staff who were guarding the Academy of Wand students. It was the instructor from earlier who had offered Angharad extra lessons.

 

"Hey, could I borrow some of that please?", she asked in a friendly manner, pointing at the bucket of water that Gwenllyan used to keep herself from dehydrating whilst on the move. The water was very dark and had clearly been used to wash both Gwenllyan and Angharad, since they were free of both soil and Trifle blood.

 

*Yes ma'am.*, Gwenllyan, who understood English well enough but could speak only in Welsh, replied as she held her bucket out. Angharad translated.

 

"Aahh, that damned Westwood,", the instructor started as she scooped some water in her hands. She brought them up to her head and let the water flow over her, letting the blood from her hair and the water run into her cloak. It certainly wasn't the first time that that cloak had seen blood, or the second. "It'll have been him that crushed those Trifles' heads. He's very impulsive." She smiled to herself. "Angharad, you still up for those Sealing lessons?"

 

"Yes, Professor...", Angharad replied with a quizzical look, drawing out the title as if to suggest that she didn't know the instructor's name, which she didn't.

 

"Ah, sorry. I haven't introduced myself.", she said with a self-deprecatory giggle. "I'm Professor Elizabeth Claimond. I teach Sealing. Gwenllyan, you're also invited, should you wish."

 

Gwenllyan nodded once and smiled.

 

"Well then, I'll see you both on Tuesday."

 

They had arrived back at the Academy. The plan now was for the students to continue their studies indoors until report came back that the Trifle had been caught.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Johnathan had never seen such brutality. The gravity spell had obliterated the trifles. All the more to avoid dark mages.

 

He ran into Ceasar on the way into the classroom. Ceasar looked shocked.

 

"Why did you look at me in such a way up there? I wasn't doing anything. You were doing decent. Why did you stop?"

Johnathan thought for a moment and spoke, accidentally in Welsh.

 

*You should remember from when we first met, like a few months ago. I had almost passed out. It happened again.*

 

"Huh? I don't speak Welsh, remember?"

 

"Oh sorry."Johnathan proceeded to Translate his message into German, French, and English, just to annoy Ceasar.

 

Ceasar grumbled."Next time you ask me something, I'll speak in every language I know, jerk."

 

Johnathan wasn't listening. He was thinking about the girl who went before her. Something about her seemed terribly familiar about her. Her name, her voice, but ESPECIALLY her family's crest. He automatically realized she was Welsh, but who was she? He felt his staff in his hand, and tried to focus on his classes, so he could find her later.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The popping sound that the 23 heads made echoed in Akukho's mind the whole way back to the dormitories. 

 

[[Could... could my magic be that dangerous? Could I... hurt people?]]

 

Lost in thought, Akukho did not realize that he was twitching his wings beneath his mantle. It fluttered gently as he passed by the other students, his long legs carrying him further than those of his peers. In fact they carried him so far that he was first to the doorway to the commons area, which he promptly crashed into. He didn't know he was flat on his back yet again until the rest of the group was upon him. 

 

"[[Are you alright?]]" asked one of them.

 

"[[Huh? Oh, am I on the ground? I'm fine, thanks.]]" Akukho picked himself up and brushed off his mantle, checking to make sure that he hadn't ruffled any feathers. "=[Open, please]=" he said to the doors, and the doors did just that. [[i love these enchanted school doors]]

 

-----

 

Being the social butterfly that he is, Akukho stayed in the commons area for some time, chatting here and there with the various people who were also there. After a while though, he grew tired. [[Wow, thinking is tiring. Maybe I should take a nap or something. Yeah, that's a good idea.]]

 

With his mind set on acquiring rest, he departed the commons and headed to his room. "=[Door, open]="

 

As it did, Akukho found that his room had a new occupant. With red hair. And a sword. A cool sword.

 

"[[Hey! That's a neat sword you got there! My name's Akukho. What's yours?]]"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Academy of Wand

 

As they waited for the Headmistress to return, the girls were left in a basic common area, where students of various ages and levels of skill were left to think about what had transpired.

 

The Japanese girl from earlier, despite her youth, was evidently quite accomplished at Fire magic, as she used a lightning-based Seal to effortlessly contain another girl, who shrieked and fought to get free of binds that shocked her if she so much as moved.

 

>Next time, you will ask before touching my things, won't you? Stop fighting . . . as long as my focus is greater than yours, you can't escape.<

 

One of the Professors approached her, a rather short, pudgy woman in a nun's habit. "/Please release the young lady. I'm sure a Lightning Seal, especially one so . . . tight . . . isn't necessary to get what it is you want./"

 

However, stumped by the language barrier, the prodigy Fire girl maintained her focus,and the Japanese translator seemed absent for the moment.

 

""Please, Sister Müller, help me!"" The trapped girl shrieked in French, earning a piteous pout from the Prussian nun.

 

---------

 

Academy of Sword

 

Westwood, the English Dark mage, seemed to have taken a liking to Christine, as he sat with "him" and explained the way Dark magic worked as they waited for the Trifle corpses to be brought up to the Academy.

 

"You see, my French protégé, gravity magic is my speciality," he grinned in a simpering tone that typically accompanied subservience- he had both heard and bought her lie that she was from an influential family, evidently, "and while the sheer power behind it is a level difficult to attain, the theory is used in many useful Dark spells. In your mind, you must picture . . . a kind of cluster," he smirks, clutching his fist, "a tight ball. And, mentally, tighten it. Make it crush and collapse inward, make it . . . inescapable. And then . . . pop!" He laughed with a snap of his fingers. "It breaks itself."

 

Turning to Akukho, Westwood grinned. "Ah, if it isn't our little Earth mage. A lot of power to you, but not much skill to use it with, yet, eh? You'll get better in time, no worries," he grinned brightly, waving over a servant to translate for him.

 

=[Professor Westwood expresses excitement with your sheer magical ability, and suggests that you focus on training your self-control.]= A short Eorida, dressed in a ragged robe of cheaply-spun wool said softly, keeping his head bowed to avoid punishable eye contact.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Angharad and Gwenllyan were in their dormitory, talking about magic, but their conversation went dry and they each became bored. Gwenllyan suggested that they drop by the common room to see what their peers were doing. As they were walking down the corridor, they heard a shriek from the common room and Angharad ran ahead to see what it was. A student was trapped in a ball of lightning, and the caster, the clever student from the Sealing lessons, was quite visibly enjoying it. A teacher was even watching and letting this happen! Angharad hated bullies.

 

*Feel the sting of the ocean! Turn her mucus to seawater!*, she whispered.

 

The braggart was caught off-guard as her nose and sinuses suddenly emptied, not only over her mouth and clothes, but down her throat, sending her into a fit of coughing. The student who had been trapped was freed, and she took the opportunity to throw a kick at her tormentor, but another student blocked it. Angharad, sensing that the situation was about to turn sour, ran back to Gwenllyan, who was struggling to try and catch up to see what the commotion was about. They went back to their dormitory and for the rest of the evening, giggled over the sounds of students fighting and teachers having to Seal them all.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Christine

 

"You see, my French protégé, gravity magic is my speciality," the professor grinned, "and while the sheer power behind it is a level difficult to attain, the theory is used in many useful Dark spells. In your mind, you must picture . . . a kind of cluster," he smirked, clutching his fist, "a tight ball. And, mentally, tighten it. Make it crush and collapse inward, make it . . . inescapable. And then . . . pop!" He laughed with a snap of his fingers. "It breaks itself."

 

"Hmmmmm, I will keep zat in mind," Christine replied. Gravity magic intrigued her, but less for crushing foes and more for making things float. If she could learn gravity magic and combine it with her wind magic, she could basically learn to fly. The group, however, was dismissed, and Christine was left to go find her dorm room.

 

She didn't have much luggage beyond a couple bags, and never had much in the way of possessions beyond money and Kai, so she was perfectly able to carry everything in one trip to her room. Eventually she found her room, and opened it up to find the large bird-boy from earlier that had made a mess of the field.

 

"[[Hey! That's a neat sword you got there! My name's Akukho. What's yours?]]" Akukho had greeted cheerfully. Christine stood there, and blinked a couple times.
 
""Pardon me, perhaps I can help,"" Kai's voice spoke up, and before Christine could stop him the big, green samurai materialized in the room, hunching over slightly because of the height of the ceiling.
 
""KAI!!"" Christine protested loudly, but the Samurai wasn't listening.
 
*Greetings! I am Kaijarisuigyo-no Furaimatsu, Warrior of the East! This is my partner, Christ-- Chris!* Akukho didn't seem to show signs of understanding welsh, however. ""Well, he wasn't speaking french..."" Kai stroked the chin of his armor a bit. "Perhaps he knows english?"
 
""You idiot, move over!"" Christine budged Kai out of the way and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She didn't know what her roommate had said, but if she had to wager a guess he introduced himself. "My name eez Chris, and zis is my bumbling eediot of a partner Kai. I would appreciate eef you kept zees anima a secret. Do you understand?" Hopefully her roommate caught the gist of what she was saying. Otherwise, they would be drawing too much attention to themselves.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Johnathan Ran back into his room for some freshening up. He first magically opened the door. *Open.* The door opened, and in he went.

 

Being the heir of a rich family had its perks. It was decent sized, with a window. It had a bed, with white silk sheets and a fluffy feather pillow, a dresser of a willow tree (Gift from his Father), and a desk of sorts, for school work, mostly. New in the room was a note on the bed, and a box, on top the family crest.

 

The note was short, and was from Father. It read,*Dear Johnathan, I sent you something. It seems fit for you to wear the crest to show your status. From, Gwalter*.

 

Of course in the box was the necklace. He slipped it on. For good luck.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

Akukho was awestruck by the new figure in the room. He had never seen something so big and green! 

 

[[Wait a second... Big... and green... he must be one of those tree thingies! I kinda expected it to look more like a tree though...]]

 

As the "tree thingy" and his new roommate bickered, Akukho stood there blissfully unaware of what anyone else was saying. They seemed to be talking to him, but it wasn't in any language he knew. After the tree man addressed him once, he went back to talking to the other boy. The other boy didn't seem very happy that the tree man had showed himself, for whatever reason. Then, he turned back to him, mouth contorting into what Akukho half-recognized as English. His new roommate looked at him, hoping for an answer to the question he didn't understand.

 

"...Tree?" Akukho said, pointing at the tall green one. He heard that word a lot, so he guessed its meaning, hoping that it meant tree. 

 

[[i still have no idea what's going on, but I'm gonna try and introduce myself again.]]

 

"Akukho" he said, his hands splayed on his chest. "Me Zulu. Akukho. Eenglish..." He punctuated the sentence by making an X with his arms. He gave an expectant look at the both of them, hoping to clarify their names and weather the green one was indeed a tree or not.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 2 weeks later...

[spoiler=OoC, please read]

Okay, I'm just going to ignore that timeskip to Tuesday for now, because while those Sealing lessons are an interesting plot point, there is still a lot of ground to cover.

 

That said, I'm sure I can write something for Angharad and Gwenyllan to do in the meanwhile. In fact . . .

 

 

 

Academy of Wand

 

As the pair of Welsh girls returned to their dormitory, they encountered a blue-eyed Eorida girl, no older than either of them and slightly shorter than either, apologizing furiously in English.

 

"My apologies, my ladies!" She bowed, averting her blue eyes by bowing her head. "Had I known you'd return to your room so soon, I'd have cleaned it faster . . . I plead your mercy!" It was almost humorous how utterly terrified she was of two girls her own age, and she shivered as if the room had suddenly been struck by a blizzard.

 

Her homespun, rough clothing was identified by a hastily sewn-on patch- a maid of the Academy, and likely a new one given that the patch on her clothing wasn't worn threadbare and that the fabric she wore could still be vaguely identified as standard peasant garb.

 

As for the room itself, she'd done a mostly passable job- the beds were still unmade, and the higher shelves of the Academy-provided armoire were flecked with dust, but honestly, given that she was evidently cleaning a dormitory three times the size of her own home without help, the fact that she'd managed so much in two hours (without magic, given her lack of anything that could be called a focus) was impressive.

 

======

 

In the common area, a small-scale war was going on between the students, and in the chaos it was easy to forget that the Headmistress had yet to return.

 

------

 

Academy of Sword

 

As incoming students were allowed to return to their dormitories, Professors from around the all-boys Academy on the western side of the Isle met in the Astronomy tower.

 

^Westwood . . . you're late,^ the Headmaster said dryly.

 

"My apologies, sir. I was . . . fascinated . . . by a new student. A wind mage from an influential family. A French boy with a definitive interest in Dark magic . . . as a sidebar, I request to tutor him personally," the Englishman said with a small, nigh-unnoticeable smirk.

 

//We've no time for your idiocy, you lowborn cur.// A Byzantine growled from across the room. //The Trifles are pushing north. One of the archery students in the Academy of Wand wounded one the other day, and just this morning one of the little blue demons escaped into the forest.//

 

*Chased by the Wand Headmistress,* another calmed his Greek compatriot. *It's likely already been slain, its corpse tied to her . . . generous hips. However, even I must agree that the Trifles are becoming an increasing issue.*

 

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Westwood growled. "I am but a lowborn guildmaster's son, remember? Why don't you Dukes and Earls put up a barrier of fire to keep them out?"

 

^Calm yourself. We called you here to request your expertise on a soul-eating barrier,^ The Headmaster said softly. ^That's powerful Dark magic, and you are arguably the most accomplished Dark mage any of us have knowledge of, both practically and in theory.^

 

At this, the younger man simply laughed. "A Dark barrier around the entire city, and both Academies? I may be among the best in my year, but I am only one man. At that scale, I would require a small army of people at least competent in Dark magic, and the assurance that no petulant brat would cross that line and leave me at the mercy of his noble father."

 

^How big could the barrier be, under your own power?^ The Headmaster pressed on, quite desperate to protect as many people as possible.

 

"I could . . . protect one of the Academies," Westwood sighed, "but anyone who walked in or out would immediately fall unconscious and lose their ability to cast any variety of magic for hours. It's too big a risk to take."

 

^No risk is too big if it keeps my students safe.^

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

×
×
  • Create New...