28th Day of Spring, 515 AV
The pale mage sat hunched over the table, bare, ghostly white legs bouncing up and down in growing frustration.
Betwixt his calloused fingers wobbled a lone, fragile pillar of res, the swirling source of his ire. As scarred hands started to twist around the arcane irritation, the sorcerer began his familiar mutterings in the ancient language of nader canoch. As if responding to the voice, a ripple ran from the bottom of the miniature tower to its unsteady zenith before the translucent liquid abruptly burst into a cloud of white mist, saturating his hands and the table below.
Sighing, Elias leaned back into his chair, fingers running across his rough scalp in equal parts disappointment and embarrassment. Another, softer hand joined his own and took over the task of massaging his troubled mind.
"More of the same?" Lexa moaned in his ear as she carelessly draped herself across his shoulder from behind. Despite the practiced carnality in her tone, she sounded anything but pleased. Elias nodded apologetically, closing his eyes with a resigned growl before leaning back into the locks of auburn hair that cascaded over his scars. She smelled of cheap perfume and cheaper alcohol, but he breathed her in none the less. He preferred the drykas's telltale scent over the thick, sickly sweet smog of incense that hung across the rest of the palace of pleasure like a incessant morning fog. It was the brothel’s futile attempt to hide the stench of sin that wafted like waves from every rocking room and moaning corridor, and her’s seemed the only escape from its oppression.
Not content to let Elias struggle in peaceful silence however, the whore tutted with a particularly distracting air of disappointment flung directly into the ear she had been playfully nibbling upon.
"But you said you could make it for me. My drink’s getting dreadfully warm, Elias." She bemoaned, and in that way all women seemed to know how to in order to get silly men into doing silly things for them, and though he could not see it, the mage could even feel the way her absurdly luscious lips were now pouting at his failure. He nodded again, having been reminded of the same thing many times over by now. "I guess I’m not special enough for that then."
“You are. I’m trying… baby.”
He had to remind himself to add that last bit in. That’s what people said in these kinds of situations, wasn’t it? That was normal? That’s why he was here after all, to find his ‘normal’ again, and what was more commonplace and natural than spending a few bells and a few more coins at the House of Immortal Pleasures with a buxom wench to keep your lap warm? After surviving the dungeons, it seemed like the most appropriate thing to do, if not for him, then at least for the man he was trying to appear to be anyway.
Pretending however, was proving to be a… difficult task these days, and even to a desperate Elias, the charade he was putting on felt utterly hopeless at times. His interactions, his words, even his movements felt like a mockery of what they use to be. The only way he had found to describe it was as if he were trapped under the heavy waves of the churning ocean, frantically clawing and scraping his way up to surface for just a breath of air he wasn’t even sure would be waiting for him at the top. It was growing tedious, and the Caldera could feel his mask slipping with each passing tick he was free of the shadows said mask was meant to hide the clinging remnants of.
A pale and forlorn face turned to the sun kissed whore’s and gave her his best attempt at a reassuring smile.
It was wretched.
Yet still she smiled back and placed a passionate kiss on his cracked and peeling lips. Lexa, ever the professional, had put up with a lot from her dearest of customers that day. She was paid well to do so after all, but Elias suspected she was getting even more for this 'humble hooker with a heart of gold' routine she was bathing him in. Likely a little something on the side, snf no doubt from her silent master’s in black who had without question slid her into place like a chess piece before him. This was Ravok after all, and while some may outright deny it for the sake of apperances, espionage was just as part of the city as the canals and the ravasolas were. How else could one explain why a woman, even one of her trade, had been so eager and willing to jump into his stringy arms when he had first limped through those brothel’s doors.
The Caldera, though recognizing he was but a paltry shade of what he once was, was still no fool, and he doubted she would deny the accusation if he pressed the question to the girl. But what was he to do even if he discovered the truth anyway; object? Like he had the luxury of choice anymore. Ha!
No, he preferred it this way to be honest. The silent, if not uncertain, understanding between them was enough for the reimancer, bearable even, especially when her hands trailed across his decimated chest the way they did, or how her eyes constantly burned with the façade of fierce lust every time their gazes met.
Yes… this was preferable. This was ‘normal.’
Or at least close enough.
But, perhaps too much so at times now that he considered it, for only ‘normal’ Elias would have been so foolhardy as to let his pride goad him into something as dimwitted as trying impress the shapely seductress with promises of magical extravagance. Like making petching ice for her petching drink. He groaned inwardly. It was the reason he now found himself in such a deplorably pathetic situation.
Frowning and redoubling his determination, Elias shook away his doubts and focused his djed once more, a pool of the glistening liquid slipping from his fingertips to coalesce in front of him.
"You can do it."
The emaciated mage turned to stare at Lexa with curious eyes. He had heard the words, but he could scarcely believe them real.
"I believe in you, master Elias.[/i]"
The Caldera could have almost cried right then. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had heard such heartfelt kindness and hope directed at him before. It was almost painful in how refreshing it felt. Elias promptly decided he would make sure he left a little something extra for the whore’s exemplary performance before he left.
In the meantime, he turned his attention back to the slowly dissolving puddle before him, drawing it up into a pillar similar to the one he'd used before with a swift flick of his fingers. Once more, he wrapped his hands around it, cupping it without contact as he pressed upon the intangible substance with an invisible force. In his mind he pictured that which he wanted to create, just as he did with the air and water he'd been using to reach this point. This was the worst part of it all however, the fact that he could actually feel them ready and eager to do his bidding. Both the elements were more than capable of intertwining themselves with one another to form what he desired, yet, almost as if taunting him, they simply refused to cooperate long enough to do so. It was infuriating, especially considering he had been able to accomplish this simple bonding before the stryfe dragged him down to...
No, no, no! Don’t think about that. Focus on something else. Focus on the magic… Normal, remember?
The snowcapped mountains of Taldera eased themselves into his thoughts after a few ticks of concentration. They were gently followed by the images of a frozen fjord, an icy river languid with its frigid waters,the feeling of the winter’s chill itself upon his exposed skin, all of these things the reimancer brought to the forefront of his mind as his brows furrowed, his thoughts focused solely on the res in front of him. Letting his eyes close, he pulled his hands back slightly, his fingers curling inwards. The res pillar bent towards the curve of his hands, and as Elias pushed, the magic swirled, twisting around itself. Slowly, starting at the bottom, the res solidified into a cool, transparent sheen that crept upwards towards the pointed tip. Eyes still closed, the mage could feel the chill of his intention affecting the res, shaping it into his desired state.
Lexa’s excited giggle over his shoulder caught him unaware, and he smiled reflexively in return, turning from his studious labors to catch sight of her satisfaction if only for the sake of his own. His foolishness immediately caused the tiny tower's remaining res to splash onto the table malformed, though the rest remained unaffected by the sudden disruption. "Aww, so close." She grinned, scooping up the remnants of the ice construct he had managed before plopping it in the glass of brandy she wielded. "I was starting to wonder if all that talk about how much of a great and powerful mage you were was just that. I guess there's hope for you yet."
Elias regarded his incomplete ice sculpture now swirling in her cup with a frown. He found it annoyingly unfortunate he'd been unable to finish the transmutation, even in spite of the interruption. It was a matter of speed as much as it was focus, and he'd employed neither… It was a problem that demanded fixing.
Gathering up his djed once more, Elias reattempted the exercise, settling into his seat with a determined finality.
Today was to be the day he mastered ice once and for all.
Betwixt his calloused fingers wobbled a lone, fragile pillar of res, the swirling source of his ire. As scarred hands started to twist around the arcane irritation, the sorcerer began his familiar mutterings in the ancient language of nader canoch. As if responding to the voice, a ripple ran from the bottom of the miniature tower to its unsteady zenith before the translucent liquid abruptly burst into a cloud of white mist, saturating his hands and the table below.
Sighing, Elias leaned back into his chair, fingers running across his rough scalp in equal parts disappointment and embarrassment. Another, softer hand joined his own and took over the task of massaging his troubled mind.
"More of the same?" Lexa moaned in his ear as she carelessly draped herself across his shoulder from behind. Despite the practiced carnality in her tone, she sounded anything but pleased. Elias nodded apologetically, closing his eyes with a resigned growl before leaning back into the locks of auburn hair that cascaded over his scars. She smelled of cheap perfume and cheaper alcohol, but he breathed her in none the less. He preferred the drykas's telltale scent over the thick, sickly sweet smog of incense that hung across the rest of the palace of pleasure like a incessant morning fog. It was the brothel’s futile attempt to hide the stench of sin that wafted like waves from every rocking room and moaning corridor, and her’s seemed the only escape from its oppression.
Not content to let Elias struggle in peaceful silence however, the whore tutted with a particularly distracting air of disappointment flung directly into the ear she had been playfully nibbling upon.
"But you said you could make it for me. My drink’s getting dreadfully warm, Elias." She bemoaned, and in that way all women seemed to know how to in order to get silly men into doing silly things for them, and though he could not see it, the mage could even feel the way her absurdly luscious lips were now pouting at his failure. He nodded again, having been reminded of the same thing many times over by now. "I guess I’m not special enough for that then."
“You are. I’m trying… baby.”
He had to remind himself to add that last bit in. That’s what people said in these kinds of situations, wasn’t it? That was normal? That’s why he was here after all, to find his ‘normal’ again, and what was more commonplace and natural than spending a few bells and a few more coins at the House of Immortal Pleasures with a buxom wench to keep your lap warm? After surviving the dungeons, it seemed like the most appropriate thing to do, if not for him, then at least for the man he was trying to appear to be anyway.
Pretending however, was proving to be a… difficult task these days, and even to a desperate Elias, the charade he was putting on felt utterly hopeless at times. His interactions, his words, even his movements felt like a mockery of what they use to be. The only way he had found to describe it was as if he were trapped under the heavy waves of the churning ocean, frantically clawing and scraping his way up to surface for just a breath of air he wasn’t even sure would be waiting for him at the top. It was growing tedious, and the Caldera could feel his mask slipping with each passing tick he was free of the shadows said mask was meant to hide the clinging remnants of.
A pale and forlorn face turned to the sun kissed whore’s and gave her his best attempt at a reassuring smile.
It was wretched.
Yet still she smiled back and placed a passionate kiss on his cracked and peeling lips. Lexa, ever the professional, had put up with a lot from her dearest of customers that day. She was paid well to do so after all, but Elias suspected she was getting even more for this 'humble hooker with a heart of gold' routine she was bathing him in. Likely a little something on the side, snf no doubt from her silent master’s in black who had without question slid her into place like a chess piece before him. This was Ravok after all, and while some may outright deny it for the sake of apperances, espionage was just as part of the city as the canals and the ravasolas were. How else could one explain why a woman, even one of her trade, had been so eager and willing to jump into his stringy arms when he had first limped through those brothel’s doors.
The Caldera, though recognizing he was but a paltry shade of what he once was, was still no fool, and he doubted she would deny the accusation if he pressed the question to the girl. But what was he to do even if he discovered the truth anyway; object? Like he had the luxury of choice anymore. Ha!
No, he preferred it this way to be honest. The silent, if not uncertain, understanding between them was enough for the reimancer, bearable even, especially when her hands trailed across his decimated chest the way they did, or how her eyes constantly burned with the façade of fierce lust every time their gazes met.
Yes… this was preferable. This was ‘normal.’
Or at least close enough.
But, perhaps too much so at times now that he considered it, for only ‘normal’ Elias would have been so foolhardy as to let his pride goad him into something as dimwitted as trying impress the shapely seductress with promises of magical extravagance. Like making petching ice for her petching drink. He groaned inwardly. It was the reason he now found himself in such a deplorably pathetic situation.
Frowning and redoubling his determination, Elias shook away his doubts and focused his djed once more, a pool of the glistening liquid slipping from his fingertips to coalesce in front of him.
"You can do it."
The emaciated mage turned to stare at Lexa with curious eyes. He had heard the words, but he could scarcely believe them real.
"I believe in you, master Elias.[/i]"
The Caldera could have almost cried right then. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had heard such heartfelt kindness and hope directed at him before. It was almost painful in how refreshing it felt. Elias promptly decided he would make sure he left a little something extra for the whore’s exemplary performance before he left.
In the meantime, he turned his attention back to the slowly dissolving puddle before him, drawing it up into a pillar similar to the one he'd used before with a swift flick of his fingers. Once more, he wrapped his hands around it, cupping it without contact as he pressed upon the intangible substance with an invisible force. In his mind he pictured that which he wanted to create, just as he did with the air and water he'd been using to reach this point. This was the worst part of it all however, the fact that he could actually feel them ready and eager to do his bidding. Both the elements were more than capable of intertwining themselves with one another to form what he desired, yet, almost as if taunting him, they simply refused to cooperate long enough to do so. It was infuriating, especially considering he had been able to accomplish this simple bonding before the stryfe dragged him down to...
No, no, no! Don’t think about that. Focus on something else. Focus on the magic… Normal, remember?
The snowcapped mountains of Taldera eased themselves into his thoughts after a few ticks of concentration. They were gently followed by the images of a frozen fjord, an icy river languid with its frigid waters,the feeling of the winter’s chill itself upon his exposed skin, all of these things the reimancer brought to the forefront of his mind as his brows furrowed, his thoughts focused solely on the res in front of him. Letting his eyes close, he pulled his hands back slightly, his fingers curling inwards. The res pillar bent towards the curve of his hands, and as Elias pushed, the magic swirled, twisting around itself. Slowly, starting at the bottom, the res solidified into a cool, transparent sheen that crept upwards towards the pointed tip. Eyes still closed, the mage could feel the chill of his intention affecting the res, shaping it into his desired state.
Lexa’s excited giggle over his shoulder caught him unaware, and he smiled reflexively in return, turning from his studious labors to catch sight of her satisfaction if only for the sake of his own. His foolishness immediately caused the tiny tower's remaining res to splash onto the table malformed, though the rest remained unaffected by the sudden disruption. "Aww, so close." She grinned, scooping up the remnants of the ice construct he had managed before plopping it in the glass of brandy she wielded. "I was starting to wonder if all that talk about how much of a great and powerful mage you were was just that. I guess there's hope for you yet."
Elias regarded his incomplete ice sculpture now swirling in her cup with a frown. He found it annoyingly unfortunate he'd been unable to finish the transmutation, even in spite of the interruption. It was a matter of speed as much as it was focus, and he'd employed neither… It was a problem that demanded fixing.
Gathering up his djed once more, Elias reattempted the exercise, settling into his seat with a determined finality.
Today was to be the day he mastered ice once and for all.
