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An undead citadel created before the cataclysm, Sahova is devoted to all kinds of magical research. The living may visit the island, if they are willing to obey its rules. [Lore]

A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Keene Ward on February 22nd, 2015, 10:10 pm

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Rising up as she suggested that he keep his practices to his body for the time being to better understand how the magic worked, Keene nodded. When she had inscribed her own runes on him before their venture into the caverns, he had felt the changes as he meditated on his djed. He imagined the effects would be similar if not the same with his own glyphing, and there was little better way to determine if he was progressing or not than to physically feel the changes. He found the concept of examining other's works before him to be appealing as well, though Rayage gave him little hint as to where he could study such things. He imagined there were journals and scrolls within the Sahovan library in which he could study different approaches to the discipline. So as she looked to him for understanding, Keene nodded once again, brushing more of the caked dirt from his shoulders and and stomach.

Finding his undergarments to have grown scratchy and inconvenient, Keene removed them as Master Rayage made her way back to their clothes. The majority of the mud lined his hips and inner thighs, which he quickly brushed off before following behind her, his skivvies held modestly in front of him as he did not want to offend nor embarrass her. Nakedness meant little to him aside from the vulnerable exposure of one's body to the elements. He paused as she paused, a brow raised at her request. "Of course, Master Rayage." Before he passed her to gather up his clothes, slipping into his pants and pulling the shirt up and over his head. Kneeling down, Keene carefully laced up his boots before rising back to nod that he was ready to leave as well. They had spent a surprising amount of time at the mudpools, and while that time had certainly been spent well, the soft grey of the sky was beginning to darken.

As the departed, Keene took the lead a few steps ahead of her, eyes scanning the horizon line for anything that might prove hostile or dangerous. Time passed as both fell into meditative silence, Keene's focus, while projected towards the potential need to defend both himself and the ancient master, was split onto everything she had discussed with him earlier. Glyphing was certainly a powerful augmentation to his already growing magics, but like all things, it had its downfalls. He wasn't sure what ways he was going to begin exploring it, but first he would be needing supplies: inks, quills, even papers if they were available. He knew the Synchrography office was often used by the nuit and his own master to gather necessary reagents and supplies; he wondered if it were available to him as well. If not, he supposed he would have to wait for another trade ship to arrive, still not quite clear on the vessels' schedules.

Eventually, and long before they had reached the edge of the prairie, light had become scarce enough that their pace had slowed to the point where Keene completely stopped to turn to Master Rayage and speak in a low tone so as not to disturb whatever creatures lurked within the growing shadows. He began to ask if she had brought anything with her that they could use as a source of light, when a low, whining hum sounded not too far off in the distance. Quietly but quickly, Keene turned towards the noise that was then echoed by another, and a another. The strange, warbling voices began to sound closer together as they moved in around the pair. Though he was fully aware the things were drawing nearer, Keene was unable to see anything beyond the darkness.

When his eyes finally spotted them, Keene quickly let res drift from his body in a soft, translucent wave of pale blue. Unable to see little more than furtive skittering, Keene flicked his arm out and snapped, a section of the haze rocketing forward and shifting into a hail of icy darts a the sudden click of his fingers. There was a frantic scream, like the howling of a man at the gallows, that immediately garnered the anger of what Keene had thought to be only three or four more. From the sound of things, there were at least a dozen. Backing closer to Master Rayage, Keene's res shifted around them. Whatever they were, he could kill them easily enough. The problem was seeing them.

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Rayage on February 23rd, 2015, 1:35 am

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Rayage did the best she could to rid herself of the mud before dressing herself. Her average garments on, she slid on her own boots, trying them, before slipping into the steel-cloth cloak. She dressed slower than the other, but tried to make it so that she was taking more care in donning her clothes. Though a greedy thought did slide into her mind, and the darkness in her heart stirred as she thought that Keene had a nice body. She half wondered, half daydreamed what it would be like to possess it. It would be a shame though, if she ever found out. That would mean the worst would have happened to Keene, and she dearly wanted him to live. Though that did not stop one from desiring, no? Forbidden fruit was often the sweetest, even if the taboo was self-imposed. She was glad that he approved of the secret keeping. She trusted that she wouldn’t ask without reason.

With that weight off her mind she smiled a little, looking up at the sky, watching the time pass by. This had to be one of the quickest days she has experienced in Sahova in a long time. It was a day well spent, a day both learning and teaching, a day well spent. Unfortunately it was not a day well planned. She had not planned to spend so much time at the Mudpools, and time seemed to escape them there. Both the trances of mud and the mind… It was interesting to see time slip past the nuit, but the darkening horizon ahead of them warned them of danger. If it was not advised to take a trip to the testing grounds in daylight, then it definitely was not was advised to go in the darkness of night.

The shadows of night caught them though, surely hungry for their secrets, and the darker that it got the slower their pace became, and the more careful they would have to be. As light grew scarcer Rayage realized that she had not prepared for this at all. Worry began to threaten her peace of mind, but surely she would be safe with Keene. The young man took the lead and she nodded, indeed, he could keep her safe if anyone could.

However as they traveled slower and slower in the darkness, Rayage grew more weary. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck as. Strange sounds came from the dark beyond, and the Master began to be more apprehensive about taking a step forward. It would be better to hold their ground, but as the tingle of djed entered the air the nuit realized that Keene was indeed preparing a spell of his own. Shards of ice shot into darkness and what came with them were terrifying almost human-like screams. Keene took a step closer to her, and she took a step towards him, not quite touching him, but close enough.

The Master was quick to draw upon her own djed pool, and as Keenes hazy res wrapped around them she started to generate her own. The youths rate at which he could generate res and the quantity at which he generated it she could tell that his skill was quite formidable. She had seen, personally, more experienced wizards, but still the boys skill was nothing to sneer at. Impressive, to say the least, and deadly. She was glad that she gave him the knowledge of the Glyphs. With his power, she imagined that he could be quite a formidable force once the runes were mastered.

She focused inward, tugging, pulling, and gnawing at her own djed. She cut and ripped at her soul, pouring it out of herself. However, her mind worked faster than her skill would allow. The conversion of djed to res seemed to trickle in comparison to Keenes incredible pace. She bought her hand up before her and the res came from her pores. The red substance enveloped her hand, then she let it, willed it, to flow from her hand to form a small ball in front of Keene. The cries of the creatures were coming closer, and Rayage could hear the patter of their feet surrounding them. There just had to be more than one, more than two, more than three… She had trouble pinning down an exact number but she kept at her work.

More res flowed from her hands, then time sending a ball to the right of them, and then slowly trickled some to the left. Three small balls of red res was formed, suspended in the air by the wizards power.

”Fire.” she whispered to herself, ”Vaknui.” she hissed a little louder, the balls of res erupted into fire, the flames were suspended in the air by the core. The fires light licked at the shadows, and upon seeing the light erupt into existence. The creatures seemed to fear the light, the shadowy masses scurrying away from the fire produced by the wizard. However, her fire would not be a lasting barrier. She fed more and more res from her body into the three separate orbs. The res trickled, slowly, flowing like a stream of water to the orbs of fire.

She concentrated and slowly the res streamed from the orbs. Her lips moved with wordless sound as she felt the stain on her soul. The res carried the fire with it, connecting each of the orbs, forming a small circle of flame, a thin wire of res and fire. She cut off two of the three streams of res, slowing the fueling of the spell, but also reducing the strain on her mind and soul.
x
“Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed to have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Keene Ward on February 23rd, 2015, 2:27 am

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It seemed the creatures knew fear or something close to it. With one of their kind wounded, the others seemed more wary, their skittering howls maintaining their distance from the duo. They shifted in the scrubby grass, the shadows of the night enveloping them in obscurity. With his res only able to last so long outside of his body, Keene's fingers moved in quick, efficient patterns, weaving the mist around them into a more complete net, gently glowing against the night, the subtle shimmer of his res glimmering in the darkness. As he worked, Keene kept his attention on the sounds that appeared to be closest, a difficult task as they cries were near constant and sounding all around them. A snarl from the right received a sharp snap, shards of ice exploding from the misty barrier and disappearing into the night. There was a small shout, whether human or inhuman, Keene couldn't say, and the howling proceeded to increase in volume.

When the red sphere of res presented itself, Keene brushed the advent of the substance aside. He didn't have time to wonder what Master Rayage's plan was exactly, but he assumed it had something to do with giving them more light. In the near blackness, Keene wasn't sure he could dispatch all the enemies in a single spell as he would have liked. There were many, but they all called out from different distances. While he had plenty of djed, it wouldn't last until dawn, which made it just about as useful as if he only had enough for a few short chimes, as he imagined that was about the time they had left before the creatures attacked.

Once Master Rayage transmuted her fire, the light pouring out over the prairie to the hissing disdain of their enemies, Keene's eyes flicked towards the advents of motion. There were hairless limbs, twisted faces, and large dark eyes that flashed for a moment before they retreated back and away from the ring of light. One of the slower creatures was caught by another volley of Keene's ice, the projectiles embedding themselves deep into the creature's back as another scream of agony shot from its mouth and into the night sky. It fell, barely within the range of Master Rayage's illuminating magic, and Keene was only able to spend a short time in invesitgation of the corpse before three more of the things lept from the darkness, fangs bared and twisted nails extended towards them.

The things looked like a larger, dog-sized rat that had been crossed with a child. Large eyes, sharp fangs hanging from bared lips beneath a pinched nose all atop squat bodies that were entirely hairless. Their limbs were elongated and gnarled, though they seemed to possess more than enough power to propel them through the air. Already, Keene could feel his fingers going numb from the magic he'd already cast, but as their assailants took to the air, thanks to the slowly forming ring of magical fire around them, Keene could clearly see their line of trajectory. Shoving most of the swirling res around them forward, it shifted into a liquid, twisting itself into pointed spears as his hand moved forward. The res traveled quickly, and before it slammed into the bodies, a quick snap of his fingers precluded the sound of punctured corpses dropping to the ground, dead before they had time to realize it.

During his own onslaught, two more of the creatures had run forward, traveling with startling speed at them from either side, while another charged directly towards Rayage. Turning and throw both hands to either side of him, Keene's remaining res zipped from its place around them. As it condensed around the rat-creatures, Keene snapped his fingers, encasing the beasts in ice. Assuming the third rat something the master could handle on her own, Keene's fingers bristled with more res as he sloughed off more of his djed. He could feel a small strain in the core of his being, a gentle warning that he was fast approaching what was advisable. At that point, his limbs were thoroughly chilled, and as two more daggers of ice found their way into the skulls of the rats, Keene staggered back some, eyes turning to see the shadows still writing.

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Rayage on February 23rd, 2015, 4:00 am

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As she kept feeding the circle of fire, Keene was busy. Ice shot and was accompanied by screams. Though she kept her attention on her spell. She held the circle steady in the air, the flames traveling upwards, lighting a radius in the darkness of night. It seemed to help her companion in killing the beasts as they leaped, jumped, claws extended Keene stopped them all with the power of his reimancy. Rayage was counting on him as she worked on stabilizing her spell. She pulled more from her soul and she could feel her body grow warmer. The fire that she was transmuting, she could feel its warmth inside her, and she smiled. A stray thought said it was unnatural, but she pushed that aside enjoying the heat of being, the fire of her soul. The more fire she transmuted the hotter her body became.

Once she was confident in her spell and the stability of the circle she dared to shift her consciousness to the outside. Withdrawing from her inner world her lips stopped moving, but still she could feel the ever present heat of her soul inside her, it pulsed with her power, and she drank it in, absorbing it, consuming it, transmuting it into substance, into res to be used as fuel. She laid witness to the scene of Keene fighting off the monsters. She observed the way the res he commanded moved fluidly, and quickly, like thoughts themselves. It was almost dream like the power he possessed. Though, everything had a price. He was paying with his very being, something so precious… something she cherished.

Every wizard had their limit, and Rayage not being much of a personal wizard was quickly reaching hers. Her body, her vessel was being warmer and warmer. It started as a small heat at the core of her being, but not it was spreading outwards and the larger the warmth got, the hotter she felt as well. If you play with fire you risk being burned… The saying entered the Masters head and she laughed. She was going to burn from the inside out it seemed. If she were human she would be sweating by now for sure. The intensity of her hearts fire surely was a force to be reckoned with. This gift, the curse of Reimancy, was given to her by a powerful Reimancer, one of the best she had ever seen, she will not fail.

She steeled her will and resolve and poured more of her being from herself, sustaining the ring of fire. The beasts leaped and Keene valiantly defended her, slaying the vile creatures. His actions only reinforced her choice in companion and her suspicions: he would be a great wizard indeed. The looming shadows jumped and began to leap past the ring of fire, three came at her. The nuits mind raced, again her thoughts moving faster than her res, which seemed to lag behind, moving sluggishly, almost begrudgingly to her commands.

As the creatures propelled themselves in the air, two were immediately taken by Keene, the wizard leaving one for Rayage. The circle of fire which she had worked hard on maintaining lapsed. The fire which could not be gathered towards the creature in time dropped loose, falling to the ground, unsupported and unfed by the wizards djed or intention anymore. The remaining fire surged up as the creature jumped, flying through the fire, but the fire followed it, engulfing the rat-dog creature in flame as it hurled itself towards Rayage.

The creatures cries of pain were heard before it even made contact with the Master. The rat-thing smashed into Rayage, knocking the both of them over. The nuit had shielded herself with her arms from the creatures fangs and claws, unable to rend the cloth of the steel-like cloak. Its gnawed at the wizard under it, drool coming down and splattering against the mage made Rayage cringe visibly. ”Fire.” she said, tugging more and more desperately at the djed inside her. It seemed that the emptiness left by the djed was being replaced with a pulsing fire. The heat had now spread over much of her torso and was entering her legs and arms, but she did not have time to worry about that. She formed and commanded the djed into a couple spear like darts, much like the ones she saw Keene use, but considerably smaller. The creatures gnawing became more desperate, biting down hard on her arms that shielded her face and body.

”Vaknui” she almost yelled, not caring how loud her voice was as the darts flew forward and transmuted, the fire aimed for the creatures eyes. Before she could witness the results her body was distracting her. A sharp pain could be felt in her chest, where her heart was. Fire seemed to course through her body being pumped by an unbeating heart, fanned by the wind of her will…
x
“Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed to have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Keene Ward on February 23rd, 2015, 4:35 am

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The sound of Rayage hitting the ground, and her desperate incantations immediately drew Keene's attention. As the beast snapped at her beneath the safety of the same kind of cloak Keene had discarded in favor of higher mobility, he found the practical applications of it as an armor to be highly effective. To assist, Keene's hands swung in arcs, bending at his elbows as his fingers snapped once his hands crossed. In the time it took for his arms intersect, pale blue liquid trailed behind as if denoting the path of motion. As his arms bent, the res shot forward, thinning into long, powerful needles that flashed into ice a moment before impaling Rayage's attacker. The force of the spell was great enough, that the creature slumped over her struggling body, its life fading too slowly for Keene to see it through as he whirled to face whatever remained of the beasts.

Though the light had been confined to the singular burning carcass, there was still enough to provide them some vision. Of course, long dancing shadows were now cast out into the dark as the flame burned behind him. Though the howls continued, it seemed the things were placing greater and greater distance between them. His entire body was chilled, even more so than usual, and an involuntary shake had begun that forced his teeth to stick together to keep them from chattering. It had been a while since he'd had to use that much magic, and the repercussions of it were ever present. The cut on his arm from earlier had begun to burn, and he could feel slits on his finger tips were small wounds had occurred as if the res had literally broken through his skin. With the supposed retreat of the things, Keene shuffled over to Rayage, knees bent and body read to move should need be as he kicked the burning thing off of her.

The air smelled like something was cooking: something stale and fetid, steeped in something almost sour. Frowning down at the source of the stench, Keene supposed it was better to be marginally uncomfortable in sense than to be without any form of light. Though proper etiquette would have dictated he offer a hand to help Master Rayage up, there was another round of howls that took precedence over social niceties. Keene turned his attention back into the darkness, waiting for another onslaught. Instead, there was more scrabbling, several more shouts and barks, and then the things seemed to disappear as quickly as they'd arrived. Letting out a long, controlled breath, Keene let his body calm some, his djed thinned from the excessive use of it. He had never fought in the night before, and the lack of vision require fair more amounts of res than he usually used.

The cuts were numbed by the chill of his body, their sting only faint though a reminder that they would be far worse should his body find itself back at a normal temperature. The only thing that really hurt was the cut on his arm, which as he moved to inspect it, he realized it had crept up his forearm, creating a sizable lesion from which small tickles of blood ran down. No longer confused as to why the pain was greater in what he had thought to be a small incision, Keene turned his attention to Master Rayage. The howls of the creatures could still be heard, but they sounded distant, almost impossibly so. If there were any still around, they were being quiet about it. He kept his ears tuned for the telltale scratching of the grasses, allowed his eyes to fall to the other wizard. "Are you all right?" If she were impaired, Keene supposed he could carry her back to the citadel. If nothing else, he could drag her, though he found that possibility to be an unlikely scenario. His mind on more important things, Keene's voice wavered from his body's attempts to cast off the chilly consequences of the fight, modulating, though still soft of tone. His brow raised slightly at the strange sound of it, but he waited for Master Rayage's reply all the same as the hissing pops of the burning creature provided for them a steady, if not putrid, light.

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Rayage on February 23rd, 2015, 5:18 am

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”Fire.” she said, ”Fire, fire, fire.” it was almost a chant. A desperate chant. Her right hand ached her, an old injury, and fire coursed through her body. The night air seemed like ice against her skin, and although the creature had been taken care of, its body slumped over on the wizard, she did not touch its weight. It was strange, the death of that creature, as it took the Master a moment to really realize that it was dead. It took her a moment to collect herself, to feel her thoughts and face reality. Once it set in that she was no longer in danger, that the only danger was letting the beast burn alive atop of her she struggled with the weight of the thing, before letting it roll as it will off of her.

Her chanting of ‘fire’ ceased, but still she had not the will the move, not yet. The fire of her soul surged through her body, and even her finger tips were hot, uncomfortably so. She winced in pain and laid there, looking up at the dark, starless night sky. Not even Leths light shone down on the wilderness that night. Darkness encompassed them, fought back by the burning beast that Rayage managed to light on fire. She did not mind the smell, as it was the furthest thing from her mind. Her body though was wreaked with pain, and she cried out suddenly as the fire felt so intense that she grasped her chest. Her heart, her heart was burning. She could almost feel her chest bubbling under the heat.

She trashed there on the ground as the burning heat spread through her body, down her legs and up her arms. Where ever the heat went it felt like she was being burned from the inside out. The pain was intense, and when she finally registered the question that was asked seconds before the fire erupted in her soul, she called out ”Keene” her voice in pain and agony, desperate. It would be so unlike the Master Rayage he had come to know. The uncharacteristic need for support, the calling of the name was almost screamed as a second wave of fire came from within, ravaging her body in a way she could never have predicted.

She rose up from where she was thrashing and grabbed ahold of Keenes shoulder. The heat coming from her body was unnaturally hot, and could be immediately felt even though the clothes. Her body was trembling and she was trying to form words, to tell him something, but they were not coming out. It was like the words themselves were being burned in the fire of her being, burned before they even had a chance to come out.

The nuit used him as support as she tried to get to her feet, ”H-help me, up.” she managed to get those words out, though they sounded choked and desperate. Her entire body was trembling, and when she moved to get up Keene might notice that under her steel-cloth robes her skin looked charred and bubbled, blistered, like it had been burned with actual fire. Even in the darkness of the night, skin like that was still unnatural.

The fire still was surging through her body, but she had to get up, she had to. She needed to survive. She needed to move. She needed to get back to the Citadel. She could walk on shaky legs, but she could still walk, even if it as but a hobble.
x
“Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed to have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Keene Ward on February 23rd, 2015, 8:41 am

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The writhing moaning cries that clawed their way out of the mess of limbs and fabric that had become Master Rayage were more than enough to send a small shiver of foreboding down Keene's spine. He approached, carefully, his grey-green eyes appraising the danger of the situation. Overgiving was a serious side effect of using one's djed to fuel the expression of will, and it was something that presented itself in more than simple fatigue or battering of body. It could affect the mind as well, something Keene had seen and new to be one of the most dangerous costs of wielding such power. She called out to him, her voice a desperate plea that rose into a shout. Keene hesitated, his frown tinging his own eyes with reluctance. He had no way of knowing if the woman who called to him in such weak of tone and desperation of voice was the Master Rayage of only chimes before, or if she were someone new, someone similar but altogether different.

Magic had different effects on every one. Whether Keene had learned this or it was merely an inherent understanding, Keene was fully aware that a wizard's abilities were only limited by the wizard herself. While perhaps a powerful mage in her field, she was no reimancer. Her efforts had kept them alive, but it had not come without cost. Without taking any further steps, he watched her rise, his eyes sharp, flicking over the details of her face - fear the most predominant expression. He could not discern if she were whole or not having never seen the visage of panic so clearly defined on her features. Her skin blistered, as if the heat of her flames had been formed from more than simply her res. While he watched her, she lurched forward, her hand extending towards him. No res was produced, not hint of aggression, only a searching desire - though for what only she and the demons that plagued her knew.

She lowered her weight onto him, his body instinctively flinching away from the unnatural heat that radiated from her scalded skin. He forced himself to remain while she found her footing, eyes better able to take in a more detailed examination of her features. Her magic had taxed her, leaving a physical reminder of its power on her skin and beneath it, a warmth that served to thaw the chill of his own limbs. The sensation, however, was far from pleasant. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, in the way it radiated out from her hands like an infection or sickly aura. Once she had stabilized her stance, Keene backed slowly away to make sure she could stand on her own before stooping to don the discarded cloak. The heavy, chilled metallic fabric draped over his body, Keene gave Master Rayage a curt nod signaling that she wait a little longer in her swaying stance. He was hardly a source of solace.

For the time being, the burning corpse was their only source of light. Neither he nor Master Rayage were able to do illuminate the path back to the citadel, and while they were close, to continue in darkness would only invite the creatures back. He was still fully aware of their cries in the distance, sometimes mingled with the shouts of other creatures as well. Without the light, they would be at a severe disadvantage, however he had little idea how to take it with them. The body burned strongly enough, but it was on fire and not particularly mobile. For half of a tick, Keene entertained the idea of clearing the skies, but even had he not fought the creatures before, he had no idea how thick the sky cover was, nor how long it would take to do so. Shaking his head, he glanced around the area for sticks or anything that could burn, but only the short grasses and the lifeless bodies of the beasts were available to him. It seemed, danger or no danger, they were going to have to proceed without it.

Turning back to stand beside the other wizard, Keene shook his head as she leaned her weight back onto him. The sooner they were back, the sooner the ordeal would end. As they started along their path, Keene kept himself quiet. There was little he wished to discuss, and any noise would only bring unwanted attention. The light of the fire was enough to allow them a faint, shadowy picture of their remaining journey, their shadows fading into the distance. The howls of the creatures of the night sounding in a haunting chorus of a deadly requiem. While burdened with Master Rayage's shared handicap, Keene was not without a means to defend them, however as the darkness closed in around them the farther they walked, the more he pushed their pace. Overgiving or not, if they did not get back soon, it would hardly matter that the woman was near delirious from fever or that he half numb from cold. They would die, and that would be the end of it.

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Rayage on February 23rd, 2015, 4:32 pm

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The temptation to curl back over in pain was great. The fire that ravaged her body now covered it in an uncomfortable warmth that made the burn marks under her clothes even more unbearable. Her stance was shaky but without help she could stand, a bit of pride remained at least. Though right now as no time to be prideful as her own overused soul was burning in the fire that she produced. The cruelest thing about the plight upon her body and soul was that as she stood there time itself seemed to slow. Ticks seemed like Chimes, and Chimes like Bells. Her entire world was a haze, like the smoke from the fire it manifested in that moment as the smoke from her burning soul.

Before she realized it they were walking. The path to the Citadel a journey through the dancing shadows and whispering night. It was so clear, so clear to the Master now, the true nature of darkness. It sneered and mocked her as they walked, the shadows licked at her wounds, the closing darkness prodding and augmenting her pained steps. With each step fire shot through her body, and she felt heavier, her body was reacting slower than usual. Was her soul going to completely burn? Was she going to die tonight? Would the awesome power of Reimancy forever be out of reach? The fire did not just burn her soul or her body, but her pride as a wizard as well.

Each labored step brought something of a gasp from the wizards lips as she struggled onwards, thankful that Keene let her support herself on him. She feared discovery that her inhuman nature would show outwardly, that her darkness would be glimmered by the youth, and such thoughts brought pain to her heart. She did not want to be a monster in this boys eyes. They had only just met, and he seemed like someone agreeable, someone teachable, and someone worthy of the lessons that the old soul had to share.

In the dark of the night the Citadel loomed. Its darkness perhaps even blacker than the shadows that currently mocked her. They had made it…

Winter 42 514 AV

Rayage sat in her lab. She leaned over her desk, her head down, the cool touch of the wood seemed inviting and allowed the wizard to relax. Her body had been treated and bandaged, but she was recommended to choose a new vessel soon. Until then, however, the best care should be taken not to damage it any further. She was in her lab, safe and sound, but it seemed to her like a cage. A cage though is certainly safer than the wilderness outside. She could yet defend herself properly, and made a shameful performance in front of Keene. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, and yet it would not go away. Her body felt warm. It was not unbearably warm like it had been during her episode, but it still possessed heat. The fire still licked at her soul, and she was still burning, like a human with a fever.

Fire, even that not conjured by her, seemed resentful and resisted her manipulation. Res was even harder to control, and even when she could produce a fireball it would grow wild, like it had a mind of its own, and fly out of her control. Her body could not be healed, and it was unsure yet how scarred her soul would be and for how long she would feel this heat.

There was a knock at her door, but she did not bother to get up. Instead the door opened and shut, and Rayage lifted herself from the wooden desk. Her arms and hands and neck were visibly bandaged, maliciously bandaged. They were wrapped around most of her body, but only those things were visible due to lack of clothes obscuring the view. She wore not a wizards robe. Instead it draped around her chair. She wore average clothes of cotton and leather, there was nothing better to experiment in after all. Alchemy could get messy and there was no point in ruining finer clothes. Besides, such clothes reminded her of her roots so long ago, in that humble beginning…

”Keene,” she said, not turning to face the door of her lab. She was working up the nerve to face him after that night. A heavy hand was placed on the table, support to help her up. Her body was still hot, and sometimes it shook as if her soul were rejecting the body she resided in.

”Thank you for coming.” she said, trying to force a small smile, ”That night was less than admirable. My performance was shameful as a wizard of the Citadel.” her voice was strong and full of conviction, ”Now,” she brought a hand up and looked at the bandaged appendage, a sadistic smile came across her, ”I am literally half-baked.” she forced herself to let out a small laugh at her own attempt of humor. The laugh wasn’t loud, nor was it joyous. It was something brought out from the very darkness of her mind itself.

”You know, I can still feel that things jaws crushing down on my arm. Gnawing at the cloak.” She paused, ”I was really fortunate that it did not have the power to rip through the steel-cloth.”

”My soul…” she breathed, My soul still feels the fires touch. My entire being is lit with the power, still I feel the heat inside me.” she looked towards Keene, ”I do not suppose you have any idea how long this will last?” she asked, her eyes searching the grey ones for answers. ”This is the first time I have Overgave with Reimancy so seriously…” It was evident that her pride had been taken bit by bit that night. She was still piecing herself together as much as she could, still replaying the events of that night and recounting her foolishness.

”That is not what I wanted to talk about though.” she said, her eyes steeled her will, ”You, Keene, performed admirably. Do not think I will be so quick to forget your actions.”
x
“Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed to have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Keene Ward on February 24th, 2015, 1:08 am

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After he had delivered Rayage to the Palsa Hyrdrasa as she had requested over the Gug Andak, his own cuts had been treated before he was sent on his way. The elegant young woman nearly shoving him out the door so that he did not overstay his absolute lack of welcome. He'd spent the night in the Quarters and returned to the mountain that morning, only returning to the citadel after receiving a letter of summons from a very battered looking golem requesting his presence once again. Having received it in the morning, Keene arrived in the citadel about half past the fourteenth bell. He had not sped his way across the valleys and hills that seperated his domain from that of the nuits, for he found there was a slight amount of apprehension. Master Rayage had torn a wound in her soul, the physical representations of it minor in comparison. Though the message had bid him come, Keene was uncertain what to expect. In the end, he supposed as long as she was still willing to tutor him on the more theoretical approaches to the arcane - as long as their verbal agreement still held - there was not reason to refuse her requests.

It was possible she merely wished to end their engagements face to face. They had been put in an extreme situation, and while Keene had more or less recovered - cuts were still forming at random, though not in the capacity to provide anything more than stinging nuisance - he could not be sure what condition the woman was in. There was little concern for her physical wellbeing, his thoughts focused more around her mind. She had spoken of wisdom, knowledge, and the balance of power, things that had been both enlightening and thought provoking. While he doubted her soul so completely changed she would not remember, paranoia was not something uncommon to those of their kind. He had seen it in Mella, in Scipio, even in the flamboyant, blond haired master who's name escaped him. Magic was hardly a open invitation for trust, and with it so hard to find, Keene found little problem in assuming it easily lost as well. While it would be a blow to his resources, Keene was fully prepared to accept whatever news Master Rayage had to tell him.

Her sharing of the workings of glyphing had been an incredible advancement in his own understanding of the magical world. If he were to learn nothing else from her, it was still a sizable return for the time he had put into their association. As his feet padded against the cold stone steps on his slow descent into the depths of the Gug Andjak, Keene's frown slowly became more prominent until he stood outside the wizard's door to her laboratory, whereupon he took a small breath to clear his mind before rapping his knuckles against the wood. He waited for a few ticks before trying the door to find it slide easily open. Slipping inside, he shut it behind him before turning to face the seated woman, her body heavily bandaged beneath the simple garments she wore. Though she did not turn as she greeted him, he nodded, holding his place a short distance from her. As she rose with heavy, languid motions to turn to him with a small lie of a smile, Keene's grey-green gaze slid over her.

It was not nearly as bad as he remembered. For the most part, her body was whole. The burns from the night before were concealed beneath the protective layers of fabric, and though her face registered as weary, her voice was as strong as it ever was - a promising sign. She seemed bitter about her limited capabilities as a reimancer, something he found no reason to find lacking. Whatever her specialty, she was learned enough in it that she was a master, something hardly worth passing over in favor of her limited display of elemental prowess. He supposed, had he been in her place, he may have felt similarly; though he would not have said anything about it. It had happened, and while a solid failure, it was merely a reminder that progress, when stagnated, would only lend itself towards more failure. He imagined she was aware of that fact, which only caused more confusion at her laughter. Her burns were hardly humorous nor was her situation. If anything, the gravity of what had happened should have been handled with solemnity, not levity. His impassive eyes and stationary face watched her own as she continued, recounting her experiences.

What she experienced was something he knew well enough. Reimancy was an addictive tool, an infection of one's will with the promise of greater and greater power. Having been raised to resist the temptation, Keene found his mind less inclined towards needless destruction of his own djed, but it was not something that he was immune to in any way. The chill of his own magic was more than enough of a similarity for his silent nod of understanding to ring true. At her question, he shook his head. There was no way to tell how long the side-effects of magic might last, or even if the side-effects were temporary at all. His fingers on his right hand flexed unconsciously, the nearly complete lack of sensation a constant reminder that magic came at price. Then, there were the slivers of cuts that dotted his hands and arms seemingly torn open by nothing for no reason. The last time it had happened, it had lasted long enough to be an inconvenience, and he doubted they would last any shorter than that. As for Master Rayage's state, Keene found that the more internalized the effect, the longer it seemed to remain. How long, however, he couldn't say and so didn't.

It seemed that he had not been called to consult on the effects of overgiving, as Master Rayage moved on to commend him for his efforts. His eyes, throughly unimpressed and disinterested in her praises, met her own. When he spoke, his voice was steady, soft, and cool, a winter's breeze to cool the heat of the flames within. "I did as I was asked to do. What you choose to remember is your prerogative." He imagined there was more she wanted to say, and he fell back into the role of the silent observer. Whatever it was, he was growing in confidence that Master Rayage's injuries were only passing, as she was already far more in better command of herself in only two days. Perhaps another lesson was in order, though she hardly seemed fit for one... A discussion or short explanation or task seemed more likely. He waited for her to speak, eyes veiled but expectancy still burning dull within them.

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A Poultice for the Pores (Rayage)

Postby Rayage on February 24th, 2015, 3:50 am

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She nodded at the youths words and turned to face her desk, ”I understand.” she said, more to herself than the Keene. Her hands moved across her desk, grabbing at some blank parchment and quickly grabbing an inkwell and a small quill. She turned and began to cross the sizable lab. A table had been cleared, facing the wall of her lab. The magelight which lit the lab in an everglowing luminance shined down on the parchment. The Master opened the inkwell and placed the paper and quill down upon the wooden surface. She placed the quill on the right side of the parchment and turned to the boy. The nuit motioned for him to approach the table.

”Keene,” she said crossing her arms. Her mind was still tired, and her body was even weaker than her mind. She did not have a lot left in her, and her soul was still recovering, ”It has been a couple days, but I wanted to reinforce what we talked about the other day.” The Master looked at the youth expectantly, ”I want to see what you remember about Glyphs.”

”So, you can use this paper and my ink, and show me what you internalized in my lesson.” her voice turned challenging towards him. She had high expectations for the wizard because he showed such promise, because he was different. He was something that she could mold, guide, and teach. He was something of a guilty pleasure for the nuit, much like Evalin was when they were on better terms.
x
“Method is more important than strength, when you wish to control your enemies. By dropping golden beads near a snake, a crow once managed to have a passer-by kill the snake for the beads.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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