[Training/Self-Mod] Hunting At Dawn (Kamalia Please)

[Gromhir]

Gromhir had selected his prey the moment he had burst from the woods. Animals, like humanoids were all different but to a human, this was barely perceptible. Scents and movements were the best ways to judge an animal and only another animal could truly read them. His target was slower to react even though it was in the centre of the herd. Sapphire eyes fixated on every movement it made.

Time slowed for the hunter as well. But not in the same way as it did for the beauty, the beast was different. The world of colour vanished around him, not drained of life but of focus. The only thing that mattered to the beast was him and his quarry. Every thunderous fall of his huge paws brought him closer. He could pick out every detail of his victim. The fear in its eyes, the weakening rear leg and the wound that had caused it. However, he was snapped back to reality by something more than just the gravity of the situation.

It was the first time he truly became aware of the bond that they now shared. Kamalia had begun to unleash whatever she had planned and it caused a change in her being. No longer the gentle woman he had known in Mura, something sinister rose beneath the surface. It bubbled like some vile pot on a witch’s mantle, just waiting to froth over the sides. He was more worried for Kamalia now than he had been at the start of their hunt.

The hunt! The fog rose thick like the walls of safety of Mura’s buildings. The herd separated, confused once more by this strange turn in events. But the one that Gromhir had chosen plummeted straight through the fog. Gromhir howled once more, but this time, it spoke to Kamalia directly. The bond between them letting her know where the white creature was. He could not catch it yet but she could.

But, the storm had yet to arrive.

[Kamalia Timandre]

Oh, how sweet, how enthralling, how seductive were the whispers of power as they softly enticed the young konti to give in to the revelry magic offered. To Kamalia, magic was not merely a practice—it was a living, breathing web of energy that encased her entire identity. After all, was this not the path that Avalis had limned and laid out for her? Was it not her destiny to become a mage, as was divined several springs ago by the oracles? Her slender form quivered as res flowed within her body and sputtered in silvery threads from the tip of her fingers.

Kamalia craved for more spellcasting, hungry, lustful and obsessed, all the while magic slowly consumed her entire being. She felt so alive, watching her spell work wonders as the conjured fog befuddled the herd. Arms extended and lithe gracile fingers dancing, Kamalia directed more res onto her area of control to enshroud it in mists and make the wall of fog thicker. She was deep in the trance, deep in her addiction, until a great howl snapped her back to reality.

White beast, long fangs, piercingly blue irises. Whitemane.

Finally, there was a moment of clarity, as if she had awoken abruptly from a reverie. One slightly wounded deer dove straight into the fog knowing, perhaps, that Gromhir had selected it for his prey. It dashed for its life, braving the milky fog that would render its eyes virtually blind.

A mysterious smile crept across the konti’s face as a stratagem formed in her mind. Closing her eyes again, Kamalia softly chanted another incantation, inflections slowly rising and growing in power as djed gushed within her form. The mage waved her arm in a menacing arc to the counterpoint of the chant, discharging a fresh stream of res into the fog, to compress the miniscule water droplets into orbs of water. This spellcasting had two purposes: to collect enough water for her next spell and to make the fog vanish away, dispelling the blanket of invisibility around the deer.

Their prey exposed, Kamalia took a deep breath and exhaled res from her mouth as a freezing wind, compressing water particles and turning them into ice. She flung her hands towards the confused deer, and hurled the shards and bullets of ice in the air towards the beast of prey.

Kamalia could feel the subtle strain of spellcasting, tasting a metallic tang in her mouth.

[Gromhir]

He could feel it again. The corruption that almost seemed to seep through their forming bond and into his own soul. Whatever it was she was doing, it wasn’t affecting her in a good way. Gromhir grew worried and he took his mind off his prey. There was something ever so different about Kamalia, one he couldn’t place. Even as he watched her cause the fog to condense to water than ice then to fly at the deer, he couldn’t quite understand it.

The doe cried out in pain as shards of ice pierced its hide. It faltered as it tried to work out what was happening. It was surrounded by the forest then it was in fog where everything was white, now ice rained down upon its hide. The cry of pain let Gromhir shift his focus back to what mattered right now. The Kelvic pushed himself harder, breaking into a sprint. The massive white beast slammed full barrel into the deer knocking it to the ground. White fangs flashed like lightning as they stole away the deer’s last moments.

The Kelvic backed off from the carcass after the deed was done. Gromhir licked the blood from his fangs then looked to Kamalia. Assuming her addiction had dissipated somewhat, she would be able to feel the unspoken worry in his heart. While she may have been able to conjure great things from the elements, it came at a price that Gromhir was now aware of. Creating such things always did, it always changed its users. He did not understand it but he had seen people like her before. Mages, that was what they called themselves, able to conjure the elements to their whim. Maybe the path had guided him to Kamalia for more than his own sake after all.

He shifted back into his human shape, his gaze now looking to the carcass. He was hungry now but he would not eat here. He would wait until they returned and they had taken the meat from the deer in their human ways. Once Kamalia was close, he spoke in the same monotone voice, “You are a mage.” It was a statement that almost came close to a question. The feelings behind the statement were clouded by Gromhir’s lack of an ability to portray them.

[Kamalia Timandre]

The doe’s last moments were terrifying to watch. Kamalia could hear its shrill, dying cries echoing faintly in her thoughts, tormented by the pain the ice splinters buried beneath its skin was causing. It was a cry that would send shivers down one’s spine. Gromhir was gracious enough to end the prey’s life right away. Was it perhaps because he didn’t want to prolong its agonizing fate? Kamalia stood rigidly, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction and malevolence as she evaluated the result of her spellwork. She could only watch while the ivaski leapt towards his prey, slamming the doe to the ground, then burying his long, white fangs into its silvery hide. Death was swift; Dira was sweet and merciful.

And then, suddenly, Kamalia’s body froze and her heart sank as realization seeped in and took her with the force of her own ice daggers’ thrust. The frosty crusts of numbness and the magical addiction slowly thawed away, replaced by a dawning understanding of what had transpired for moments—just for mere moments!—being possessed by her own lust for the arcane arts. The silent seductions were gone, but in their stead she would hear cries— cries of pain, cries of anguish, cries of the tormented. She felt her heart being gripped with guilt; her lips turned a deathly pallor and her violet eyes distant. “Mother Avalis. . .”

Kamalia stared absently at the lifeless deer, once a beauteous and regal creature, now streaked in crimson, its visage distorted and hideous with the wounds her spell had inflicted. It seemed to look back at her with its dead, misty eyes, condemning and judging, blaming her for the cruel fate it suffered. The young reimancer had hunted with her sisters before and had felled at most a dozen white deer, but this was definitely different. Was her condition truly getting worse?

Magically spent, the mage’s legs quivered and her fingers shook. She could still taste the metallic tang of power in her mouth and the strain of spellcasting that left her cheeks pale. When Gromhir stated that she was a mage, almost in the inflection of a question, Kamalia found herself not having the strength to speak. She responded with a slight nod and forced a weak despondent smile.

Kamalia’s heart was the forest; it was Whitemane who got lost in the labyrinth of woods.

[Gromhir]

Gromhir looked up at her. There was a distance in her eyes that he’d never seen before. Her once bright violet orbs were now barren wastes of emotion. It tore at his heartstrings. She seemed so different, he didn’t need an arcane bond to tell that much. Something about her spell casting had changed her, or maybe it was the killing of the deer? She seemed a shadow of her former self, no longer the confident woman she stood almost as a hollow shell before him.

“Do not feel guilt for killing this creature,” Gromhir addressed the issue he felt was most appropriate right now. “It is nature’s way. Just as the plants feed these creatures, so do they feed me and my brethren. When I pass on to the next life, this body will then feed the plants. It is the way that this world works. The way nature had intended.”

Gromhir wasn’t sure what to do. Kamalia had always seemed so strong. Now she was struggling he felt lost. But he felt he should embrace her, comfort her the way he had seen humans do. A hug was what they called it. He wanted to but he knew that his human form made her uncomfortable. There had to be some way of at least reassuring her that he was here for her. He was unsure of these feelings, were they his?

Finally, he decided. The form of the Ivaski rose from the light of his human form once more. He approached her quietly; her bowed slightly and brushed against her quivering fingers, nuzzling her hand. He was her guardian, her bondmate, he wouldn’t let harm come to her. Whatever the source of that hurt may be, he was hear for her.

[Kamalia Timandre]

Gromhir had a point. This was simply the way of Caiyha, Kihala and Dira. Too much life would only lead to suffering; death was merciful and death was deliverance. The eternal circle of life, death, and rebirth had to keep the balance and should not be obstructed—this Kamalia knew by heart.

But it was not the fateful death of the deer that troubled the konti wizard the most. In fact, she had rather expected it. What deeply perturbed her was her lack of control during the spellcasting as the addiction possessed her entire being. She could only watch, almost helplessly, as her physical body seemed to move with its own volition, enslaved by the inviting whispers of power. Had it not for Gromhir’s intervention, Kamalia would probably have flung another spell at the deer, and any more spellcasting would wreck her body and cause her to overgive.

But what disturbed the konti maiden most was witnessing the destruction and devastation each of her spells could bring about. Magic addiction was a fearful thing to behold. To Kamalia’s ears, the only sound was the seductive, exultant whisper that rang through her benumbed mind. She saw with horrifying clarity how the ice shards pierced through the hide of the deer, spraying and spilling blood across its white coat. Its shrill tormented cries echoed hauntingly in the glade.

Questions rushed to the konti maiden in a storm: in such a state, will there come a time when she can no longer determine between a friend and foe? In the duration of her spell addiction, was there any danger that she would eventually confuse an ivaski with a White Isle doe? Or a konti with a human slaver? Questions rose and whirled about, steering her to questions that led her to yet another multitude of questions.

She sighed with frustration and raised her left hand to massage her aching temple, until she felt something damp touching her other hand. It was Gromhir in his ivaski form, nuzzling the long, ethereal fingers of her right hand.

Magically spent and legs weak, Kamalia sank to her knees and allowed herself to nestle in Whitemane’s silken fur. Her res drained from her, she leaned onto the reassuring form of her bondmate, circling her arms around him. The strength of their uncanny connection gently swept away her fears, and the rune in her mind formed yet another elegant twirl.

She smiled weakly at him. “Let us go home, Whitemane,” she murmured softly, and quietly thanked Avalis. They would need to cart the venison to the Timandre manse. She looked again at the doe and suddenly felt ravenous. All the spellcasting and thinking had tired her out and left her famished.

“You know,” the young seer mused, “I think I’m hungry.”

~End~

OOC!Nice thread, Gromhir. :3

[Alice]

Mura Experience Award Please update your CS accordingly! Experience Points Awarded: Kamalia - 2 pts Glyphing, 4 pts Reimancy Gromhir - 2 pts Tracking, 2 pts Detection, 2 pts Stealth, 4 pts Hunting Comment: Very well written, both the magic and hunting skills! I will update Kamalia's SS accordingly (also including general information about the other plot we discussed).