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Nathaniel was back home. He sat at the table he always had, some finely crafted desk engraved with his family crest into various locations on the table. A large bound journal rested before him open, his own scrawl covering the page, with a glass inkwell and what appeared to be an eagle-feather quill not far from the book. Nathaniel looked around for a moment, his thoughts jumbled. What had he been doing? The last thought on his mind was of some strange beast...and other students...yet something didn't seem right. Was it a dream? He looked around the room he stood in. Looking around the room, he saw his home within the city of Almaradamri. An old acquaintance of his stood before him, the middle between Nathaniel and an old, worn chalkboard. Runes and diagrams covered the dark slate, ancient lore and archaeological history seemed to be shown in stacks at the base of this board and the old man who stood betwixt them all. His private tutor and friend of his late parents was in the middle of yet another of his long-winded speeches. If he wasn't practicing at the academy, the Sorcera al`Miransar, he was here in this study, listening to this old man drone. Some didn't feel quite right, however...he must have nodded off and had a strange dream.

He was still thinking to himself when he heard something slam. He jumped in shock. Looking up, a large book had been set on the table, but he was still surprised. The sound that originated didn't sound like a book meeting the table. No, it almost sounded like...Nathaniel shook himself again as he looked up at the old professor. The older gentleman sighed as he looked to the young noble,
"Young Master Cryvere, if you're going to ignore everything I'm saying, you may as well skip this fight, hmm?" Nathaniel blinked. Had he heard that right? "I'm sorry, professor? I don't believe I heard you correctly..."
"I said, Master Cryvere, that if you are going to continue to ignore this lesson, you may as well skip today." The professor slowly closed Nathaniel's open note journal and gestured to the door, "Clearly there is something on your mind. Off with you. We'll pick up with the Great Silence tomorrow. Good day, Nathaniel." He turned back to the board, slowly beginning clear it off. Nathaniel was stunned. When was the last time he had gotten a moment to himself? He stood slowly, taking his notebook into his underarm before he looked to the teacher and looked to the door before looking back. He wasn't going to waste this chance. He left the room in earnest, heading for his bedroom. He passed many a room and person on his way, some of the servants watched him while others seemed to whisper. Traces of their conversations caught his ear:
"...so reckless..."
"...oolish know-it-all..."
"...orphan. Unwanted..."
"...responsible..."
He heard this and more as this seemingly endless walk to his room continued. He couldn't understand. Had he done something wrong? Forgotten something? What was he responsible for? It wasn't his choice to be an orphan. Do people really blame him for his parents' deaths? Was it his fault? It couldn't be. Sure, he had been there, but he couldn't have done anything. That sandstorm blew in. There was nothing he could have done. His pace quickened as the comments began to grow in volume until it was as if they were yelling and he was running down the hall. He finally broke into his room, stumbling through the door. His chest ached and his breath caught. Slowly, he found it getting harder and harder to breathe. His vision began to shift. Like he was going crazy. His room began to flood, water filling in through every entry. He tried to swim to the surface as the water started to rise above his head, but his limbs were heavy and his body sore. Light glimmered at the surface as his bedroom seemed to drift away in a blink...

He opened his eyes again in shock. His head below water, he went to breathe and gasped from the lack of air. Slow and exhausted, he finally pulled himself to the surface of the pond. He coughed and spluttered as he tried to get his bearings. What had happened? He looked up at the scene. Everyone had gathered around the body of the strange demon they had fought. Thank goodness at least everyone else is okay, unlike myself...what a worthless attempt...He stood slowly, his hand reaching over to his fallen blade. Using it as a crutch, he stood, his body trying vigorously to replace the air he'd lost to the water.
 
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She only knew she had to find him. It was all she thought of from her birth from the umbral void of lost memories. A shining beacon of purpose, a kindling of wavering light miles away. Not seen. But felt. Even through all the rock and stone and mountains and seals that stood in her way. But she could not forget that feeling of helplessness that dragged on the very fibers of her being. Oh, how she drowned in wretched air. To suddenly feel all of oneself in one tiny form. A physical space. Mortal. Suffocating. Claustrophobic. So very tangible, and therefore, erasable. She remembered the rising panic. The fear as it washed over her in waves and waves, threatening to swallow her very consciousness in a paralyzing ocean of terror. But she had that one thing to hold on to. Even if was just a single thread of herself that was kept above the drowning turbulence. Find him.

She did.

They took her in because they thought her lost. But it was she who found them. Why? She couldn't ever know.


But it was the same gut-wrenching panic that she saw in its pupilless eyes. Those hollow sockets in cracked and crumbling crow skulls. A demon by the award; undeserved perhaps. Their eyes met across the divide, and suddenly she could see it for it truly was. Formless given form. Billowing as dusky smoke and curling in on itself over and over. Tendrils of oily black twisting in agony or perhaps... ecstasy? She could only see pain for that was all she could comprehend would be felt, given its tortured and rotting physique. But perhaps crossing the threshold whether forwards or backwards afforded its spirit a kind of profoundly felt sensation? The zenith of experiences as its life in this world and perhaps the other was wrenched from its grasp. For would it not be impossible for those that only knew chaos to understand the implications of feeling? Would they see pain as merely another journey, not so very different from a touch?

And yet... as the runes that wrote its demise cascaded from the fingertips of those who were chosen, Enn could only reach out a hand to grasp at that moment. To hold that second and stretch it out for the eternity that only existed in her eyes. In wonder at the pulchritude of life's passing.

"No..." A denial whispered from her lips, but strangely reticent from disagreement. Did she want to watch it die forevermore?

But the bolts and crackles of magical energy, flung forth from those who wished its sorry existence to end, pierced its wretched hide. The worduken elicited a final screech before it tumbled to its side and passed beyond Hastarae's hallowed Gates. Rotting flesh, bone and sinew disintegrated. Peeling and sloughing off its broken frame like dilapidated wallpaper in accelerated time as they were born away by an unnatural breeze as blackened ashes. Just as quickly as the choking fog had been beaten back by the frost, so too did the remnants of the once bristling behemoth become almost nothing. Nothing except for a fragile blossom of faint pale light.

Enn let out a pent up breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Cautiously, she approached the pulsing plant, seemingly entranced by the sight. It appeared no different from the other flowers that bloomed from the worduken's fog, if a little taller, and larger, and sweet-smelling. A fragrance filled the nostrils of those who stood near. It reminded Enn of freshly cut lawn and meadowsweets. A hand reached out hesitantly but drew back at the clatter of applause of the two instructors returned to the field from where they had observed the battle out of sight. Alongside them marched a group of demons. Several Djinns in immaculate garb totting stretchers and refreshments in trays and baskets trailed after one of the school's nurses. Shubit, the freckled young girl with electric blue eyes skipped after the Mistress Enchantra while the clink of heavy armor and low rumbling footsteps marked the presence of Amon, the Mistress Conjurer's chosen demon.

"Congratulations on passing the First Trial!" Mistress Delacour greeted them, a relieved look on her facade even as she shook her head gently taking stock of the various states of injury among the Chosen.

Nothing too serious fortunately.

⋨⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋩​

There wasn't much of a debriefing, as the instructors allowed the nurse and the Djinns to get to work, examining each student and offering bandages, medicinal unguents and poultices for the bruises and cuts, as well as reinvigorating potions for those that wished for them.

"That was quite a fight... don't you think?" Vixianne Delacour remarked as if voicing her own thoughts out loud. "Every one of you performed admirably, as expected of the best of your respective classes. I'm actually rather impressed you've all managed some sort of coordination, despite most of you not having worked with each other prior to this." Her eyes took in each of the students in turn before finally settling on Nathaniel. The edges of her lips curled into a warm smile. "Make no mistake, each one contributed to the fight. And despite whatever the immediate outcome of your individual actions were, victory would not have come without the actions each of you made this afternoon." The Conjuress squinted into the sky. Clear blue skies and voluminous puffy clouds drifted lazily across a sun past the midday mark. The morning somehow felt like a week ago. She returned her gaze to the gathered students, a more austere pall hardening her features.

"The Reckoning will be nothing less than harrowing. In as much as you were close to death today, more so it'll be for you in the coming days. The trial you faced today and will face on the tomorrows, serves not just as a simple test of your abilities but also to strengthen your resolve and spirit. I am sure most of you have never known the limits of your abilities until today... and if not today, you will surely know it in the days to come." She let the brevity of her words sink in for a while longer before gesturing at the mid-afternoon sky. "You lot may have the rest of the day off! A well earned and much needed rest no doubt! Mistress Loftgarden and I will tarry here a moment longer, should you have any questions for us... Try not to get into more fights before this is over." Delacour winked as she offered her final words in jest.

--To those who have made it this far... Congratulations on passing your first trial! Being pushed to your limits was an eye-opener for your characters. Tired and battered as you are, if there is one thing to be gained from this, is that you now feel stronger. Whether you feel a part of your soul opening up, your limbs nimbler, or that complicated spell you read about long ago finally making sense. One thing is certain. You are stronger.

All characters who took part in this fight may add one point to any of their 'Stats'.

Now that the fight is over, you may take this time to explore the world of Memento! Or at least, Highover Institute of Magic. Who knows, by traversing the various paths, one may find forgotten trails, new intriguing discoveries about the history of the world or even forgotten treasures! Other than interacting directly with the instructors one may also consider other options as below. Feel free to describe what your character's surroundings, I trust you will do so reasonably. We paint this world together afterall ^3^
1. The ruined gardens on the West side of Highover Institute stretches further than what you initially thought. Beyond the battleground of the First Trial, you find that there are even more crumbling pillars and slabs of stone, their weather-worn sides inscribed with inscrutable runes. What else would you find here?
2. Tired and worried that something is broken? The School nurse urges you to take a trip either on your feet or on a stretcher carried by the ever helpful Djinns to the school's infirmary to get a more thorough checkup. There you will find that the sickbay is mostly devoid of people. Thankfully of course.
3. Think you've had enough? Retire back to your private dormitory with a leave-me-alone plastered over your face!
4. The Library. Yep. No descriptions, though it is actually a very important place. I just derped.


Enchantech Level 3 Special Interaction HighSanguinaryPriest HighSanguinaryPriest
The Mistress Enchantra calls out your name as you move over to return your imprifle. She hands over Vindication as well.
-- You may decide one last time whether to allow Regalia to alter Vindication into a proper imprifle. If you change your mind, Vindication will be returned in its original revolver form, otherwise its form would be changed to become similar to the other rifles.

"How does it feel?" She asks, an expectant look on her face. "Did you notice anything in particular about your equipment or your rifle during the fight? Anything that struck you as coming up short? Or something you wished could've been done or made better?"

--You have been given a chance to potentially unlock a new upgrade for your Enchantech equipment or skills. However, it must be earned from careful reasoning and consideration. You are allowed to ask the Mistress Enchantra two relevant questions. Ask wisely. Think back to your fight with the Worduken. If you do not ask rightly, this opportunity will be forfeit.

Enchantech Level 3 Special Interaction Kabochamp Kabochamp
The Mistress Enchantra calls out your name as you move over to return your imprifle. She holds up a hand as you attempt to place Silversling back on the rack.

"Ah--..." Her voice falters in her throat as for a fleeting second, the usually composed and confident Mistress Enchantra appears unsure of herself. Tawny brown eyes glance longingly at the imprifle still clutched in your hands. She swallows once, as her eyes harden with resolve.

"You've done well Miss Meliore..." She tries to offer you an encouraging smile, though it quickly fades. Not out of insincerity, but Regalia does appear a little distracted by something on her mind. She takes a deep breath before continuing. "Would you like to keep Silversling? It'll be yours to do as you please. I... I can think of no other hands that would be better to hold something that was once dear to me."
--You may decide to keep Silversling if you wish. Or decline the gift.

"How does it feel?" She asks, an expectant look on her face. Surprisingly, her cheery light-hearted mood had returned in an instant. "Did you notice anything in particular about your equipment or your rifle during the fight? Anything that struck you as coming up short? Or something you wished could've been done or made better?"

--You have been given a chance to potentially unlock a new upgrade for your Enchantech equipment or skills. However, it must be earned from careful reasoning and consideration. You are allowed to ask the Mistress Enchantra two relevant questions. Ask wisely. Think back to your fight with the Worduken. If you do not ask rightly, this opportunity will be forfeit.
 
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Sore and wounded, in more than just his physical body, Nathaniel stood alone on the furthest edge of the clearing where they had fought the beast. The tip of his blade was impaled in the ground as his body weight shifted to allow the sword to carry a small portion, easing the ache from his left side. He looked across the field as their teachers appeared once again, the school nurse and several attendants in their wake. As they began to speak of their performance, he shakes his head, denying the words that came after...
"Every one of you performed admirably, as expected of the best of your respective classes. I'm actually rather impressed you've all managed some sort of coordination, despite most of you not having worked with each other prior to this."
What had he done? Look as a fool as he was hurled into the water? Ridiculous. As the nurse and her attendants began passing out supplies for those who had been wounded, Nathaniel turns away, even before hearing that the day was his. He merely begins, slowly, to walking further into this ruin. He always took comfort in places well before his time.

He walked for a while, the thoughts of his battle filling his head. He could have done better. He should have been stronger. What a pointless fool he'd become. Even if it wasn't quite the area of expertise he wished to enter, his own failures to slay such a beast were ever pitiful. As he critiqued and ridiculed his previous actions, the limb in his body seemed to fade, even if slightly. Unbeknown to him, his body, his very soul, had drawn strength from that fight. His potency for his favored abjuration magic had increased more, opening up opportunities for even more magic. Some of which he had been unconsciously casting as he walked through the old columns. The winds seemed to pick up just briefly, his hair swaying lightly in this gentle wind. It was cool to the touch and seemed to ease some of his stress. Finding a good place, shaded and secluded within the ancient realm, Nathaniel sat down, back to a column, and closed his eyes. He rested there within the shade of the past, his present self weakened and weary, his future all but unknown.

(He is subconsciously casting the Reinvigorating Winds spell.)
 
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Anne Basil
Setting free a sigh of relief as the foul creature had finally been vanquished and presumably banished to its chaotic realm, Anne's arms fell limply by her side. At this point, even the cold hard ground seemed to be welcoming. She just wanted to give in to her body's desire to collapse and would have very little qualms about losing to the whims of her flesh. After what had just happened, after extending herself beyond what she imagined herself to be capable of, she found the idea of resting highly desirable herself. And like her, there appeared to be someone who thought the same. In fact, he had already gone and found a nice shady spot to slid down onto and went on ahead to fall unconscious.

"Hey, you... Nathaniel was it? You'll catch a cold sleep out in the open like this. Wouldn't a nice cozy bed in the infirmary be better?"

She spoke to him not because she was trying to be nice, at least, not just because of that. There was also a sense of responsibility within her. If she had held the demon down like she said she would, Nathaniel would not have been knocked away and thereby, would not be out of commission for the rest of the fight.

He must have felt so pathetic, Anne thought, if I was in his position, I would feel rather worthless myself. Not that I actually accomplished much myself.

Around the young man, there was a fine breeze, and though Anne had sensed something unnatural about it, noting that it was lightly magical, she was tempted to just rest here as well. Of course, she wouldn't indulge in it. She hadn't been physically hit, but it would be prudent to visit the infirmary. If Nathaniel doesn't respond or wishes to be left alone, then she planned to head on there by herself.

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM Lekiel Lekiel
 
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His dreams were strange. A merger of his fight with the previous beast, a never ending replay of his failure of an assault on the thing, and his life back home, constant studying and swords practice. He slept silently before his consciousness stirred. He felt a pawed hand slowly tread up his shoulder and rest there. He had half a mind to drift back to slumber, yet even now he heard the tread of footsteps. Eyes closed, he heard the voice of his fellow classmate call out to him:

"Hey, you... Nathaniel was it? You'll catch a cold sleep out in the open like this. Wouldn't a nice cozy bed in the infirmary be better?"

He slowly opened one eye to see who had come to disturb him. It was her. The one from the fight whom he had called out so foolishly to overextend herself. It was a wonder she is still upright, he thought to himself. As she walked up, he sat up, his eyes opening fully. Weren’t those with red eyes always asking for trouble? He gave small laugh to himself before replying to her:

While the dirt and grass here may not be as soft as the beds of the infirmary, the air here is clear and pure. These ruins, the history they bear. This place is much more soothing than any white walled room. If you have wish to experience my words, you may join me, though whom would want to accompany such a fool as myself is beyond me.He sighed to himself softly before he continued, “I do, however, owe you an apology. I hope my previous, near perilous request had not seen you too injured.

revior revior
 
[import]9420182[/import][div class="body"]
QPnLe78.png

[div style="font-size: 4vh; margin-left: 3vh;"]saverio vaillancourt[/div]
Now that the entire affair had been finished, Saverio had felt how ridiculous the whole thing was. There had been a part of him that was mildly disappointed on how lackluster the ending was. He shrugs. He have provided them a choice, and an answer was given. A part of him could not help but wonder what would happen if things happened differently. He stares at the spot where the Worduken had used to be. His schoolmate, Enn, seemed particularly entranced. His enchanting hazel eyes narrowed catching sight of the faint light. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something that would be left behind by the mysterious creature.

"Congratulations on passing the First Trial!" Mistress Delacour greeted them, his concentration snapped. The tall male who claimed to have a perfect physique collapsed on the floor, all strength leaving him. "I can't believe that you let such a dangerous creature to be used!" he had cried out. "My precious body has been forced to suffer terribly because of this!" he whined. In spite of his influx of complaints, the male had managed to overcome with the ordeal with only a few scrapes. The pampered male had different thoughts as he had never experienced any actual form of difficulty before. His clothes were covered in dust, the hem of one side of his pants were ruined and his ankle! By the Seven!

The blond felt faint. What if it had left a permanent scar? The repercussions of this first battle was far more serious than he thought. He made a big fuss. "I think I'm gonna die." His face incredibly pale at the thought. His precious body? With a scar? A flaw? H-How could it be possible? He had to beg his father to buy the best ointment to prevent that from happening! Despite fully capable of walking on his own, he has made the Djinn's carry him to the infirmary. They needed to apply first aid to his precious body as soon as possible! There was no time to lose! He can't possibly bother to care for other people when his precious body was in stake! Think of the millions of people who would be disappointed! His body was a gift granted by Empyrea itself! There was so much more to lose if his body was scarred.
tags: n/a

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Anticlimactic. That was Faean’s immediate opinion about the Worduken’s grand defeat. Though, then again, he couldn’t have imagined it ending any other way. Ultimately, they were still students with much to learn; to hope to subdue a beast of that magnitude when they had gone through hell to defeat was, of course, a fool’s dream.

Too bad, he thought to himself as he studied the beaten and broken bunch of students who surrounded him, lingering on a notable few in particular. The faint, much-oppressed thirst for chaos within him whined at the lackluster, in its opinion, end. Oddly, it was at this time that the Ardenstone demon’s words come back to him.

Is your dream worthy of your soul? Is your cause worthy of who you can become?

A small frown curved across Faean’s face that he quickly smothered. He shouldn’t be looking unhappy that their painful fight was over. As their professors re-entered the stage, a soundless sigh left his lips. Today’s events left him with a lot to think over, especially…

That ghostly knight. What was it? Although he had pushed it out of his mind to focus on defeating the Worduken, the sight of the ethereal figure left quite the imprint in his mind. He looked back at the pillar with a renewed curiosity. He wondered if the teachers, admirable as they were, would know what that entity had been. Or, rather, he wondered if they would tell him.

“Dear master?” Jinx called, unusually subdued. It seemed like she had rather been affected by his show of unusual behavior in the battle — she had seen bouts like it before, where his self-enforced strict, cold rationality gave way to something more… adventurous, but she never seemed to get used to it too well. “Shall we go to the Infirmary?”

He shook his head in reply, his gaze already searching for another figure. Finally, he found it at amidst a group of students. He approached the Mistress Conjurer, waiting for anyone else in front of him talking to her to finish. Her back was turned to him and, quiet as an assassin, he took a step toward her.

“Nok danor, sen`ra Kareesha?” He questioned softly, searching for any sort of reaction so he could gauge between her not knowing and not telling in their following conversation, if needed. Taking in her reaction for that split-second, his expression quickly shifted to a breezy smile as he added, “I was hoping you knew what that meant, Professor?”


 
Anne Basil
"Huh?"

Without warning, her voice turned cold and her eyes looked down at Nathaniel in disgust.

"Are you perhaps patronizing me? I believe it is clear that the one placed in a perilous position was you, was it not? If anyone is at fault, it would be me, for my incompetence! Don't you dare go out of your way to placate me! Or is it that you thought that I have done what I did merely because I was told to? Me? Following orders just because it was given?"

Just as she looked as though she might pop a vein, Anne suddenly came to a halt. The fight previously had tired her out, and in her fatigue, her guard was down and she gave in to her emotions, the wicked chains that kept humanity from their reasons and rationality. Sighing as if the cast it all away with her breath, she regained her composure before turning away.

"I suppose I have to time to be occupied with a fool, that is fortunate for both of us, I suppose."

As she walked away, the Foliot, Lok, bowed to apologize in his mistress' stead.

"It seemed that you have struck a nerve. That being said, perhaps next time, if there is a next time, your conversation may go smoother if you would only lower the walls you have surrounded yourself with a tab bit more. Well, that's just what an old cat has to say, take it as you will."

"Lok! Why are you wasting your time with that fool?"

"Looks like we must part ways. I wish you good health, Master Nathaniel."

Having said his piece, Lok too, turned away, following his mistress as she trudged towards the infirmary on her own.

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM Lekiel Lekiel
 
Nathaniel Cryvere


Nathaniel.png

Theme song:

Leaning against the ancient ruins with Reinnvigorating Winds in effect.
Speaking to Anne Basil ( revior revior ) as she walks away.



Nathaniel blinked in confusion for a moment. Even Nihil peeked his head up slowly, the loud voice rising him from his sleep upon the top of Nathaniel's head. There were two things that struck Nathaniel as odd. First and foremost, Nathaniel had only been polite. It wasn't as if he were blaming her or trying to 'patronize' her, as she had titled it. He had only meant to offer her purchase to not place all the blame on her. He truly was the one who requested her to overextend herself. He sighed and carefully pulled himself to his feet, his voice out into the air, "Ms. Basil! A moment..."

As he called out to her, the other topic of the confusion comes to mind. Nathaniel had spoken to Anne a few times within his few days here on the island nation of Highover. She had always seemed rather...stiff. One of a very serious manner. Yet just then, her demeanor broke. She showed a wave of anger and emotion very uncommon of her. It was so much so that Nathaniel tried to caught of with her. Using his blade to hold his weight, he limped slightly after her. Nathaniel's foliot, the laze of a cat-shaped demon, still asleep on top of the young mage's head. However, despite the magic soothing winds in the area, Nathaniel's damage from the last fight was more than what he could give and he stumped, a sharp, loud curse coming from both him and Nihil, who tumbled onto the ground. Nihil glared at Nathaniel and the argument began...

'What's the big idea, you ingrate? I'm trying to sleep!' mentally spoke the cat.

Nathaniel groaned, the pain in his sternum only increasing with his fall. His voice, clear and in some sort of pain,
"Oh...shut up, you..."

Nihil gave a hiss, 'Don't you give me that! You're in no position to move and you're still trying to play the hero. Stop actin' like you got something to prove.'

Nathaniel gave the cat a glare before he reached out to his fallen sword and, using it as a brace furthermore, placed himself upright once again. At Nihil's words, he flinched from the mental reprimand, "Just...leave it alone, Nihil. It is not through any fault of hers that we were injured, us and her. I'm the one that asked her to hold the beast passed her limit. I'm the one who tried to show off. I was the top student at home and I decided to try and show off. I got us hurt. I am to blame solely. Just...stop..."

As he argued with his familiar, if Ms. Anne Basil does turn around to possibly help Nathaniel or to answer to his call out, she would hear this aloud.
 
revior revior Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM

As the grey-haired maiden retreated from the young Cryvere's presence, her contemplation would be interrupted by a tiny squeak followed by a curious sounding trill. Looking towards the sound, she would see a tiny head with large ears and the lupine features of a very familiar creature. Peaking out from the corner of an aged column was a fennec fox of cottony white fur. It regarded the Grishelgroff student curiously for but a second longer before loping past her on silent paws back towards where she had come from. Stopping short of Nathaniel, its ears perked up as the cool calming breeze washed over its tiny frame. But in that instant, the bracing winds would suddenly cut and die down. All would be still though the late afternoon air was hardly stifling. Light was still very much in abundance though it had already begun taking on a warmer glow as the whiffs of some later blooms lightly perfumed the air.

--Nathaniel's Reinvigorating Winds spell would be cut as his remaining mana well completely depletes for the temporary time being. He learns that all spells have a cost on the Magician, even those that restore. His cuts and bruises would not yet heal and the aches remain, but his physical strength has been restored somewhat. He will not be able to cast spells for his next two posts. Reinvigorating Winds is unavailable until he adequately rests. Anne, on the other hand, would feel slightly better from the short time she spent in Nathaniel's vicinity.

Kala the tiny fox tilts her head quizzically at the young man, letting out a friendly trill. Her fur was so white it seemed to shine and it was clearly unhurt, contrary to what her nearly distraught mistress feared had happened just a few minutes earlier. And speaking of the flaxen blonde, she was nowhere in sight. The fennec fox observed the young noble a while longer before it suddenly stiffened, eyes wide as its gaze snapped in the direction of a nearby pond. Weeds and wildflowers ornamented the watery edge, as overgrown creepers clothed the large carved columns that were half-submerged into the pool. Kala's haunches stiffened, as she began sniffing at the air. Almost immediately, her animated fluffy ears stood to attention as the snow-white fox lowered her profile and began sniffing the earthy grass all the way towards the water's edge. Reaching it, her nose bopped the surface of the water, causing tiny ripples to cascade out over the still surface. A soft paw followed and tentatively dipped into the water, but Kala appeared unwilling to go further though her eyes appeared fixated on the pond. Perhaps a fish swimming beneath the silt obscured waters?

Turning to look back at Nathaniel, Kala let out a drawn-out yawn and settle down by the side of the pond.

OSWonder OSWonder
“Nok danor, sen`ra Kareesha?” Faean questioned softly, searching for any sort of reaction from his professor so he could gauge between her not knowing and not telling in their following conversation if needed. Taking in her reaction for that split-second, his expression quickly shifted to a breezy smile as he added, “I was hoping you knew what that meant, Professor?”

If the young student thought he could be a sneaky little imp and catch his instructor off guard, he would be sorely disappointed.

"What what meant dea'Aria?" The Mistress Conjurer turned around to find her silver-haired student standing behind her when he clearly could've easily approached her from the front like a normal person. She gave him an odd look. "You best repeat your question Faean, I didn't catch what you said earlier as I thought you were speaking to someone else. But unless I heard wrongly it sounds foreign. Where did you read that from?"

Feyrie Feyrie
The djinns carried the finicky young lord back to the infirmary, all the while doing their best to calm his whining about being scarred for life. One blue-eyed demon even offered a helpful opinion that those marks were like battle-scars, and it made the young Raestraguc more of a man. They finally set him down on clean white sheets in a largely empty infirmary. Weathered brown stone walls encompassed this particular section of the school as warm light from the late afternoon sun filtered in through the large arching windows. A portly nurse appeared and set about fixing the more severe lacerations that Saverio had sustained. Special unguents were slathered on the gaping wounds with the help of a little magic to speed up the process; not too much otherwise it might not heal properly and would leave behind the dreaded scars. They stung a little and ached, but would no doubt be almost as good as new by the following day. Finishing up with a bandage wrap, the nurse bade Saverio rest a little longer and took her leave, leaving behind a glass of murky green bitter liquid and with orders to finish it before he left.

The sickbay was quiet, and if not for the soft barely distinguishable chirp of birds outside, the silence would've been deafening. Nevertheless, the stillness did not last long as voices could be heard just past the arched entry leading towards the cots upon which Saverio had been placed. Whoever it was that spoke sounded very concerned as their speech was terse and strained, though the echoes distorted the voices enough that it could not be defined. After a while, the voices stopped. Footsteps followed, clattering over the tiles as whoever it was strode hurriedly into the infirmary and paused on the threshold. Though blocked by a partial curtain screen, Saverio would barely make out the face of Enn. Concern was evident on her face as she looked around the place, seemingly in search of something or someone. Noticing his gaze, her frown immediately softened and she walked over to his cot.

"Are you alright? Does it hurt?" The flaxen blonde glanced at his bandaged up foot and visibly winced. Though her attention was fully on him and she did her best to hide it, concern still lurked beneath the surface of her visage and she seemed somewhat distracted.

--Saverio notices something on the infirmary's furniture while he is there.
 
Anne Basil
She hadn't intended to do so, she hadn't, but she did turn around when she heard Nathaniel taking that tumble. She couldn't understand it, that he would go through such lengths to come after her. As far as she knew, he had no business with her. He ever said that he preferred sitting by the tree and lie in the open. So why come after her when he could barely move? Was he mad that she called her a fool? It certainly did not seem like he wanted a fight and neither was he in a condition to do so, and so Anne tossed that possibility out of the window.

While she was still angry at the young man, that much is for sure, she was curious about what he wanted. Then, breaking her out of her thoughts, a squeak. At first, she wondered if that was a rat, but she thought better of it, realizing that a rat's squeak would not be so loud. It had to be from a much bigger creature.

Her eyes searched, trying to follow where her ears had picked up the sound and then... There it was, and it was as big as one would expect from its squeaking. She recalled seeing it before too, this familiar creature, or as one may put it, a familiar familiar... At any rate, she knew that it belonged to Enn, though she did not know its name.

How curious, she thought, for a familiar to break away from its mistress, especially a Foliot of all things. This Enn must be poor in both battle and in managing her Demons. I wonder why the Ardenstone even chose her in the first place. Curious... Very curious. Perhaps I'll look into it.

Anne's eyes followed the Foliot, watching it as it took interest in Nathaniel before tracking what seemed to be a scent all the way to a pond in the garden. Clearly, there was something in the pond. At the very least, Demons shouldn't be interested in just any old scent.

Anne went over and gave Nathaniel a light kick.

"Fool," she decided to refer to him as, "it seems like the fox is urging you over. It is only natural I suppose, considering that you are the master of laying around in water."

As far as it came to Nathaniel, Anne had realized something important. The man is self-deprecating. He's the sort that would immediately humble himself upon being praised, the sort that would rather focus far too much on his shortcomings than his strengths. In other words, saying anything positive to him will be more or less a waste of time and anyone who tries will certainly be met with a humbling rebuttal, not so much humbling to the one speaking to him but more so himself. Perhaps if she goes the extra mile, she could break through his shell, but frankly, Anne did not care enough for the man to try. Then, in that case, what is there to be done? Well, the simple thing to do is to simply go with it. He called himself a fool? Then from henceforth, he shall be treated as a fool. He claimed that it was all his fault? Very well, then he is to blame entirely for everything.

Putting that aside, if Nathaniel were to give little indication of interest in the pond, then Anne will investigate on her own. Surely, the little fox wouldn't mind, right?

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM Lekiel Lekiel
 
Nathaniel Cryvere

Nathaniel.png

Theme song:

Being kicked by Anne Basil ( revior revior ).
Watching the small fox.



As his winds calmed, he laid there on the ground. Facedown, he sighed as he squabbled with his familiar. He missed the pale-haired girl turning around as a small sound echoed through the ruins. A small squeak. Nathaniel couldn't see where it came from until a flash of white hopped out of the nearby bushes. The sound had come closer, a strange trill not too far away from him brought his face up. His eyes found the fox before him and he blinked, pausing for a moment to look at Anne, before blinking again. "Hello there..."

The small creature looked at Nathaniel as Nihil and the boy looked at the fox. They looked at each other as the fox gave another squeak before running over to the pond. Nathaniel recognized the small beast, but as he looked around, he couldn't find the owner of the small fox. As he looked back to the fox, he watched it paw at the surface of the water. Before long the small fox gave a yawn and curled up at the water's edge.

It was in this distracted moment that he felt a foot collide with his sore ribs, albeit somewhat lightly it was still the spot where the worduken had so kindly struck him the last time. He gave a groan as he fell over, rolling onto his side. He gave the girl a glare as she spoke,
"it seems like the fox is urging you over. It is only natural I suppose, considering that you are the master of laying around in the water." Nathaniel kept up his glare as he began to pick himself up slowly. With what strength had returned, he managed to get his feet under him. He walked toward the pond but spoke out the girl, a sarcastic laugh in his voice, "Fool, huh? Hmph." He took a few more steps before he turned and faced her, his entire demeanor different. His tone seethed with disappointment, though his lips carried a crooked smile, "...I've never had any luck with red-eyed women. If you're done insulting me, feel free to leave. Clearly, you aren't here to help." He turned swiftly and walked to the fox, a hand pressed against his side where most of the pain came from. He kneeled down, his hand gently waking the fox with a brush of his hand. Nihil, on the other hand, sat next to Anne, watching his master before looking up at Anne to see her own reaction.
 
Anne Basil
Anne's eyes widened slightly in surprise when the young man's demeanor turned sour. She hadn't expected that. Being so self-deprecating, she'd thought that he'd take it better. Had she kicked him too hard? Maybe, maybe not, she wouldn't know. Will she apologize? No, she refuses. This did not change the fact that the young man irritated her. She couldn't understand why he bothered her so, but there was something about him she didn't like.

"Is it fine? To take such an audacious tone with me? After all, it's your fault that my arms ended up like this right? What are you going to do if I can't ever cast another spell again, hmm?"

It was as if a switch had flipped. Anne went from her flat tone to that which is sweet yet dripping with venom, an approximate mimicry of Velvet's way of speech. The trigger of such an action was when Nathaniel mentioned not having much luck with red-eyed women, and to Anne's knowledge, those had to be Velvet and herself.

Anne felt the urge to pick at him, too see what lies beneath that stoic mask. Was it curiosity? That was partly it, yes. She wanted to know the truth that lies behind this man who sought to overcome fate. In a sense, he was very much like herself. After all, fate too is a shackle that binds the lives of all those that exist. However, there was another part of it, and that was that she for some reason, disliked the young man.

"Or perhaps, you didn't actually mean it? Perhaps you only said it because it'd make you look cool somehow by assuming responsibility? To paint yourself as some kind of tragic hero so that you could feel better about not being able to do a thing?"

Anne savored each and every word she spoke with malicious indulgence, trying to taunt the young man, to rouse him. The smile she wore was like a child who had captured a fly, torn off its wings and feet, and is now watching it squirm. But then, she stopped. She realized that she was having a little too much fun, a little too obedient to her own sadistic whims for her liking. There was, in the end, nothing wrong with trying to paint oneself as something else. Even Anne would like to pretend and portray herself to not be influenced by her own emotions and whims despite it being very much not the case, as it had been shown.

"Well, I believe that's enough teasing. I apologize if I made you somewhat uncomfortable," she said, reverting to her cold and controlled demeanor. "If you don't mind, would you like me to help you over to the pond? You're curious, aren't you? In regards to what the fox had found?"

She should have left it at that, but once more, the urge returned.

"There is one thing I'd like to make clear to you though, in sincerity. The decisions I made are mine alone. Whether you asked me to do it or not is irrelevant. In fact, I would have done what I did without being told to. After all, even if it's not you, there are plenty of others around eager to show what they've got and are more than capable of dealing a good amount of damage to that abominable Demon, perhaps even more than you can, arguably. It's only logical that I hold the creature in place so that the rest can do their thing as effectively as they can. Back in the carriage, you said that 'Fate may be inevitable, but to those who seek something more than what they are given, they create for themselves a new destiny.' I believe that as well... No, it's not whether I believe it or not, I'll make it happen even if it's not true. I won't let anyone but me decide my fate, not you or anyone else. I'll say it again, the decisions and choices I made and will make are mine and mine alone, so don't you dare claim either credit or fault for it."

Why was it, why was it that she has to sprout all these things in front of someone she barely knows or care about? Maybe it's 'that'. More than likely, Nathaniel reminded her or another person, a woman who tended to claim fault for even things she had no control over. 'It's all my fault,' she'd say when she's alone. 'If only I did better,' she cried when she thought no one could hear her. Anne didn't want to remember that. Whenever she did, it made her feel tight in the chest and it'd sour her mood for the rest of the day and she wouldn't be able to put her mind into anything she does. It's bad for efficiency.

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM
 
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"Lovers quarrel? Perhaps the aftermath of a few sad attempts at licking each other's wounds clean." Velvet approached the two red-eyed students, her rabbit carried snug as usual in her arms, with a deceptively soft smile on her face. She had taken a bit of amusement from the situation having overheard it from afar.

Turning to Nathaniel, she condescendingly spoke as if she were talking to a small child, presumingly with the purpose to belittle him even further. "Nathaniel darling, I'm sure you've been around long enough to know that constant apologizing isn't a very attractive trait for a man to have. With all of that being said..." She turned to Anne as her crimson eyes narrowed toward her, the grin on her face widening as her lecture continued. "If that's really what you're all bent out of shape about, then let's not sit here and pretend that you're any better here. No matter how foolish or even utterly useless some of them may be," She shot a second glance at Nathaniel before returning her gaze to Anne. ", men typically don't enjoy being pitied."

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM revior revior
 
Nathaniel Cryvere

Nathaniel.png

Theme song:

Standing by Kala the Fox and the pond.
Arguing with both Anne Basil( revior revior ) and the newly arrived Velvet Valentia( NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack ).



Yet still, the girl continued to poke and prod at him, her verbal jabs coming in like knives tp his side. "Is it fine? To take such an audacious tone with me? After all, it's your fault that my arms ended up like this right? What are you going to do if I can't ever cast another spell again, hmm?"

That last sentence struck him, his temporary cruel demeanor turning more twisted as she continued further, "Or perhaps, you didn't actually mean it? Perhaps you only said it because it'd make you look cool somehow by assuming responsibility? To paint yourself as some kind of tragic hero so that you could feel better about not being able to do a thing?"

He seethed in this mentality that he had adopted. Vile and twisted, he turned to her, his face full of spite and his voice loud from anger, "What would you have me do, huh? Shall I sever an arm now as retribution? I've tried apologizing, that doesn't work, you only get agitated. I tried leaving you alone, you only came back! Just what would you have me do?!" As he called her out, he watched her deflate slightly, her next words ringing hollow as she asked to help him to where he already was. His emotions broiled as he went to say something more before a third voice broke the air, one he had come to despise more than any of the others he had come to hear over time.

"Lovers' quarrel? Perhaps the aftermath of a few sad attempts at licking each others' wounds clean."

From the surrounding woods, Velvet Valentia approached the pair, her irritating smile on her lips and that rabbit, her familiar, between her arms and her chest. She looked toward Nathaniel as she came forward, her voice condescending as usual, "Nathaniel darling, I'm sure you've been around long enough to know that constant apologizing isn't a very attractive trait for a man to have..." Her words chipped at Nathaniel, her arrival already making him more than uncomfortable. He turned away, his anger draining as he went to pay attention to what the fox might have been after, "I have no need to make myself attractive to any woman, Valentia, and I am more than certain that I am not your 'Darling'."
 
Kala the snow-white fennec fox let out a curious little scree as she watched the verbal ripostes between the three crimson eyed individuals. Patiently she sat on her haunches until at long last the only male of the trio paid her enough heed. At once, Kala let out a cheerful little yelp and once again edged towards the water's edge. A fluffy white paw dipped tentatively into the water's edge before a whole head followed. But it was only for a brief instant of the fox appeared unwilling to head further into the water, drawing back and letting out tiny sneezes as it wiggled itself spraying water droplets over the grassy bank. Kala looked back at Nathaniel and the others as if making sure they were paying attention. Perhaps it wanted them to pay closer attention to the pond?

It was perhaps twenty feet in diameter, with clear emerald waters at least until about five feet down. A cloud of silt or perhaps a kind of algae blanketed the inside of the pond, creating a kind of faux bottom. And indeed the pond might've been mistaken for a shallow pool if not for tiny breaks within the obscuring mass hinting at darker waters below. Moss rocks and ruined columns lined the edges. Some of the stone columns even appeared half submerged within the pool, as if the place had once been part of a whole structure until a section had caved underground forming the pond.

--Perception Level 2 check. Velvet/Anne might notice that the crumbling ruins around the pond hadn't simply fallen apart at random. In fact, thicker structures appeared to have been evenly spaced around the pond, each marking one out of 3 exact positions if the pond was taken as the centre. One of the thicker columns appeared to have toppled into the waters. While another 2 still stood.
Perception Level 3 check. Paying closer attention to the surroundings, Anne would notice that the 2 thicker columns might've once been large fifteen-foot statues of people, though what or who exactly was carved remains enigmatic. A cursory look wouldn't have sufficed as the stony surface appeared to be very much worn by the weather. Large chunks on the statues appeared to be missing as if it had been blasted away; perhaps due to some kind of heavy impact. Nevertheless, an armoured foot, a portion of a spear or a sword and perhaps a cloaked and hooded bust could be distinguished. Statues evidently, and they all faced towards the centre; or at least, the two that stood.


Though there was obviously no wind or waves, the mossy mass at the bottom of the pond shifted and roiled languidly. It seemed much like a miasma of smoke, moved about by some unseen currents. As Nathaniel peered into the watery depths, he suddenly caught a glint of something red through one of the breaks within the greenish scum, though it was muted by the dark depths and cloudy water. Almost at once, he'd feel a sudden chill on the wind as a cloud obscured the sun. A chill that would be felt by the other two as the surrounding trees rustled and susurrated with a bracing wind. Perhaps it might've been their imagination but they thought they could hear indistinguishable whispers teasing at the edges of their senses.

--The place appears to be extraordinary, even considering the very nature of the ruined gardens. Perhaps they should check out the pond further? Should they approach cautiously with some form of magic? Or would they dare venture in by diving straight in? Or mayhap try to enter the murky depths by clinging to the fallen column?
 
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Anne Basil
"I..."

Anne wanted to argue back when Velvet told her that she wasn't any better. She wanted so desperately to deny that but, the more she thought about it, the more she tried to come up with excuses for herself, the more she realized that Velvet was right. In the end, it was she who had lost her head and behaved irrationally. After all those times she'd tell herself not to be swayed by emotions, all it took was a simple stimulus to break her out of control... No, perhaps she never had control to begin with. The times she would hole herself away studying, the times she had kept away from people, she told herself that it was all for the sake of freedom. However, was that really the truth? At the end of the day, was she not just hiding from things she's not willing to face?

I never did went home, she recalled, did I? Not since I left for Grishelgroff.

By hiding away, she pretended to have a hold on herself when in reality, she was unable to face her own weaknesses and powerlessness, and how easily it was for her to be swayed by her own emotions and the world around her. She was not free, she was as chained down as any other, but by turning away from such obvious truths, she pretended to be better, better than those around her, better than her parents. It was her consolation as well as her wretchedness.

"I... Once more, I apologize. I was being unreasonable. You were only being kind and I... I lost control... I am sorry."

She was ashamed to know that this is what she actually am, a wrenched being clinging to false strength. She was under the delusion that she was strong but in reality, all it took to break her were the words of someone she barely knew. She wanted to cry but her pride wouldn't let her, and even if she did those would be but the tears of self-pity, serving nothing more but to affirm the wretchedness of her being.

Terrified of showing her reddening eyes, she cast her gaze downwards, and it was at this moment, her gaze captured the ripples caused by the little fox within the clear pond. At first glance, it was but a shallow pool of water, but a close look revealed that there was more to it than meets the eyes. What first seemed to be the bottom were a bed of some form of algae, and what could be seen through the spots the algae did not cover were darker waters deeper below.

Rising from the depths and partly above the surface, there were three evenly spaced structures, statues apparently, so weathered that they could be mistaken for pillars. Of the three, one had fallen but two still stood, all of which appeared to be facing the spot that was approximately the pond's center. Why were those statues there? Why were they half submerged like this? Anne had no answers, but in the lack of answers, curiosity roused from within her heart.

"They're statues, these three columns I mean, and they appear to be facing the center of the pond," she notified the other two, and for a moment there she felt too pathetic to talk, to not do so would be even more so. She might not have been the ideal she thought that she was, but that did not mean that she was going to stop striving for it.

This was but the beginning of her path and her journey had only begun in earnest. They said that red eyes bring forth misfortune. However, for Anne, perhaps that was not quite the case.

Lekiel Lekiel Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack
 
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Nathaniel Cryvere


Theme song:

Yolo's into the pond.



As he listened to the two women begin to bicker, something flashed in Nathaniel's vision. A red something at the bottom of the pond. He looked around for a moment at the other two before he caught Nihil's closed-eye stare. I'm diving into the pond, he thought to his foliot companion, there's something at the bottom. To the girls, Nihil would let out a surprised hiss as Nathaniel would stand, his eyes never leaving the spot he saw in the water.

Anne had said something, something about an apology? Who knows. He had lost interest, lost the want to continue to argue a hopeless situation. As she began saying something about the ruins around them, Nathaniel took a few steps back from the water's edge, making sure Kala, the small fox, wouldn't be disturbed by his soon to be sudden actions. Nihil began to run toward Nathaniel as the boy said aloud to the girls,
"I'll be right back."

Without another word, Nathaniel gave himself a running start before diving headfirst into the pond, jumping from the shore.




I hope this is okay, Lekiel Lekiel
 
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"A concourse of crimsons? Curious... most curious!" A sudden child-like voice perked up almost as soon as the last watery plop faded into the ominous silence that surrounded the pond.

There was no announcement, no whoosh of air or pop of magic seals. Looking about, both Anne and Velvet would find a young strawberry-haired girl with abnormally large bright azure eyes perched on one of the toppled ruins; instantly recognizable as Shubit the Mistress Enchantra's familiar. The Djinn appeared to be alone, perched on her platform of choice as she swung her short legs absentmindedly. She(?) It? appeared to be staring at the exact spot that Nathaniel had dived into, the latter of which by now was rapidly descending through the murk and fading from view. An unfamiliar tune of discordant arrangement hummed out from between Shubit's closed lips. Innocent as a childish rhyme, except for the fact that it sounded like it was sung backwards.

"It appears the young Master Cryvere did not hear about your observation Miss Vassili. He just went righ'n ahead dinch 'ee?" Shubit remarked further, turning to glance at Anne for a moment before affording Velvet a toothy smile. "A shame... most definite shame... I wonder if ee'll make it! But as I say--" the Djinn's cheerful expression suddenly took on a darker more austere mask "just one chance, but three opportunities."

revior revior NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack
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The surface waters was pleasantly warm as they rushed to engulf his diving frame. But as he surged deeper until he began to break through the mossy miasma and venture into the pitch-black depths, the temperature began to drop rapidly. Even despite the occasional break in the obscuring scum, the light of the fading sun seemed to be swallowed up by the murky depths. Nothing reached below. Still, Nathaniel pressed on.. his already dissipating breath bubbling past his muffled hearing. The red glimpse teased at the vestiges of his memory, but try as he might he could not pinpoint the exact location he remembered it. That elusive pinprick of red winked in and out of existence, as his mind found it amusing to imagine them all over the place like an annoying sunspot. It was then that he realized he couldn't get his bearings. There was no light, nor any anchoring sight. Lit by a dark green expanse that was equal shades dark all around. He would feel a sudden sense of displacement.

Where was up? Or down? The incoherent whispers that teased from before seemed to grow louder, though no less intelligible. But was that an explosion that he heard?

--Which direction should Nathaniel choose to swim? To his left? Or perhaps what he thought as right? Or down? Mayhap he might've found it more useful to have gained at least a rough idea of the place before he dove in. Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM state your choice of direction in your next post.

Picking a direction, he swam deliberately, eager to sate his curiosity and inexplicable hunger to that wisp of light he thought he'd seen down below. The waters around him remain the same murky dark green. That is until a sudden shift at his peripheral vision flitted. Turning, he would suddenly see ephemeral shades of darkness. Like formless shadows they lurked just out of reach of recognition. They flickered everywhere he looked. Like the silhouettes of a city's rooftops at twilight.

"Quin Unum Cryvere!

A sharp but faint call. Was it his imagination? It sounded like it came from his right.

--His breath is running low. Which direction should he take? Again he is faced with three choices. To the left? Right? Or head down? As he swam, he'd begin to have an uncanny feeling that this was no ordinary diving escapade. He was a visitor in a different realm. One upon which he was not meant to be in, but was privileged to tread. Though for how long he was a guest remains to be seen.
 
Anne Basil
Anne stared blankly into the ripples upon the surface of the pond. She could hardly process what had just happened. Nathaniel just jumped in without any pause for thought. It should be clear that this is more than just some ordinary ruins. To begin with, why did it cave in and why was it even flooded in the first place? Looking at the weathering on the statues and amount of water here, it couldn't have been long enough for the rain to fill it up like this.

A nearby little girl seemed to share the sentiment, or at least, she appeared to be a girl at first glance, but one look at her eerily clear blue eyes made it all too clear that she wasn't human. It took a moment, but eventually, Anne did recall her to be a familiar of the Mistress Enchantra.

"I suppose he was tired of listening to me..." Anne said with a sense of melancholia. Usually, she would dismiss such feelings, but after experiencing the emotional intense happening from before, she was feeling a bit more accepting of such 'weaknesses'. "But, that's how it is I suppose."

"Hmm? Chance and opportunities? For what? Though I ask that, I suppose you're not just going to tell me are you?"

The Djinn was cryptic, hardly giving anything away. Is this another test? Or perhaps it's just a Demon's whim?

"From what she said," Anne turned to Velvet, "it seems like we each have an opportunity to make something happen, maybe. Or perhaps she was alluding to the statues. Either way, I'll take a look at them, the statues I mean. What will you do Velvet?"

Lekiel Lekiel NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack
 
"Rushing in without a word has always been his thing." Velvet said to Anne who was clearly distraught. While the young woman decided to hold off against harassing her any further for the time being, she would also not waste time in consoling her either. It seemed that the Djinn wanted them to solve this problem on their own. Meeting the little girl's taunting grin with a cold but brief glance, she returned her attention to Anne. She was clearly an observant one, managing to notice that the three columns surrounding the pond were, or at least used to be, statues. Velvet scanned the scene further. "I'm sure you've also noticed this, but it seems that the center 'statue' is toppled over into the waters. If your thoughts on the columns being statues are correct, then it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that the rest of the 'statue' is somewhere at the bottom of this pond. Maybe that has some sort of connection to what Nathaniel saw earlier. But the more I look into the waters, I don't see any sign of the rest of that 'statue'. Depending on how large they used to be, one could assume that the depths of this lake go very far."

"Well I don't plan on rescuing the sorry fool." Following Anne, Velvet responded to her question as to what she'd do. "You seem to understand what's going on better than I do, so I suppose that I'll follow your lead for the time being. In the meantime, please feel free to use my talents at your leisure. Though if at all possible I'd prefer not to get wet and ruin my makeup. Hopefully, you can sympathize."

revior revior Lekiel Lekiel
 
Nathaniel Cryvere


Theme song:

Swimming through the pond.



The cloudy waters covered his vision as he broke through the surface of the water and swam beneath it. Nathaniel hadn't realized the depths of this pool before he had jumped in. It was much deeper than what it seemed from the surface. The murky water swirled around him as he swam deeper. The strange red glow still on his mind. Where had it come from? What could have caused it? The biggest question echoed through his thoughts. It shared the same color as his eyes, as all of their eyes. What did it mean?

As these thoughts continued to flood his mind, Nathaniel broke through the layer of mud and murk of the upper pond. Clarity came to his eyes, dark filled depths surrounded him as he pushed further down. His lungs were already starting to ache as he looked around, trying to make hide or hair of anything around him. The darkness enveloped him, the red spot seeming to blink in and out from all sides. The pain in his lungs began to burn as Nathaniel lost himself within the darkness. It was then he heard it. Coming from somewhere to his right, the faintest voice calling his name.
"Quin Unum Cryvere!" His head jerked in the direction and with no other leads, he began to painstakingly swim in the direction of the voice, lost and losing air.
 
Heading towards what he thought called to him, Nathaniel powered through the murky greenish waters. Patches of shadows danced across his blurred vision as every direction seemed no different than the other. But with purpose, he swam, lead on by the watery echoes that teased his subconscious. Then a shadowy silhouette seemed to detach itself from the surrounding gloom. Up ahead, no more than a score yards in front of him. His strokes slowed as the shadowy form seemed to take on a vaguely humanoid outline, at least where the upper torso was concerned. Where the legs should've been the inky black silhouette stretched on down into the abyss.

"Quin Unummm Cryvereeee..." The haunting echo resounded in his head again.

This time, the young Cryvere was sure it was in his head and not watery soundwaves propagating from some mysterious voice box. He thought he could see the strange shadow slowly turn about as if it hadn't been looking in his direction. It stopped. Then with startling suddenness, it braced forwards and surged towards him long trailing body slithering through the murky waters with mortal purpose. All the while, he heard his name called within his head. A harrowing wail filled with revolting desperation. Then as it surged closer quicker than what was thought possible, Nathaniel could finally make out the creature's horrendous visage. Whether the sight of the creature's form struck him with fear or not, its mere twisted look and the shock of such an unexpected sight startled the young lord and caused whatever meagre air left within his lungs to escape.

No..-!

It was another voice. Faint buy unmistakably feminine. But that was all he could deduce, for there was no time to ponder upon the escalating events as he suddenly felt as if arms had grasped hold of his shoulders and yanked him backwards. The waters roiled around him in a flurry of bubbles and he was forcefully propelled backwards. It seemed to take forever until his blurry vision seemed to brighten and his head broke through the calm surface of what seemed to be merely a small pond.

Matt l ttaM Matt l ttaM
--Event trigger failure. You may write out your harrowing experience and how you react as you made your narrow 'escape'. Other than being close to drowning, Nathaniel suffers no other physical conditions. For the purpose of skipping a little time, I will assume he eventually tells both Anne and Velvet about the wink of ruby red which he saw earlier as well as his experience. if he attempts to enter the pond again, he will find himself unable to dive below the first surface, as though the bottom waters are too dense for him to break through.

However, both Anne and Velvet will be allowed to attempt the dive; whoever posts first or decides to dive first write as such, otherwise the event will end. They may also dive together if they wish, I suggest a collaborative post for this. Should they do so, they will experience largely similar things to Nathaniel, with some exceptions. At the first hesitation, both having had some knowledge of what lay below and its layout, would make the correct educated guess and deliberately take a left turn to keep swimming.

And again as their fellow Chosen that went before, they would hear their true name being called and be faced with the same three options.

Which direction should she take? Again she is faced with three choices. To the left? Right in the direction of the call? Or head down?
 
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Anne Basil
Perhaps it was because they held no secrets within themselves in the first place or perhaps the weathering had taken their secrets with them, investigating the statues ended up fruitless. Feeling that she could glean nothing more from the statues, Anne was beginning to realize that in order to unravel the secrets of this pond, she may very well have to dive in as Nathaniel had done. Of course, she knew how to swim, she had been given sufficient training in that field at least. However, she never liked it, considering that there wasn't a single day that wasn't at least chilly up north, it stands to reason as to why she never quite liked being in water.

Speaking of Nathaniel, as Anne was contemplating whether to dive in after him or not, the young man resurfaced, and rather than him making his way up to the surface, it felt more like he was pulled from the waters by some unknown force. After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Nathaniel began to tell of his experiences below.

"The more I hear about this, the more I am having the impression that this may be a test," Anne commented after hearing Nathaniel's experiences. "There are two reasons for such a conclusion. Firstly, Nathaniel is here, safe and sound in spite of what he had encountered. Apparently he had been rescued by some unknown force. Secondly, the pond was part of the school grounds, if there truly are monsters like the one Nathaniel had described down there, why would the school just leave such a potential threat alone? The reason, I believe, is that it is part of the test and that measures had already been put in place that no harm is to come to the students, measures such as the unknown force that pulled Nathaniel back to the surface."

She voiced her thoughts because Velvet had said that she did not wish to dive in earlier and hoped that her deductions would convince her otherwise. Like the Djinn from before had said, there were three opportunities, and if she did not mean the statues, she must have been referring to the three of them. With Nathaniel having failed, it was up to Velvet and Anne to complete this task.

"I'll go first," Anne said as she stripped off her coat. She had been hearing them, whispers that seemed to draw her in. "If all goes well, maybe they won't be a need to use up all three of our opportunities. That being said, would you mind providing me a light while I'm down there, Miss Velvet? I believe there should be such a smell in the Evocation school."

Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't, either way, Anne dived in, plunging into the depths. As she went deeper, however, the less sure she became of what was supposed to be above and what was supposed to be beneath. It's almost as if she had entered another space. However, if she had to guess, then she'd want to head left, vaguely feeling that it'll lead her closer to where she needs to be.

Eventually, she began to hear a call, 'Marianne... Marianne Vassili,' it called.

Who is it? She wanted to ask, but being underwater, she obviously could not talk.

What now, Anne hesitated, head towards the voice? Head below? Or left? She had trouble deciding the direction. There was also the information Nathaniel had given. Apparently, when he headed towards the voice, he encountered some kind of monster. Then again, he headed downwards instead of left, so perhaps he was off the mark.

In the end, Anne decided to head towards the bottom. It's highly possible that it's the same creature Nathaniel encountered, and even though Anne was sure she headed in a different direction, there's no guarantee that the creature wouldn't move to attempt an attack on her like it did with Nathaniel

NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack Lekiel Lekiel
 
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revior revior

With the disembodied haunting whispers of her true name trailing in her wake, Anne Basil pressed on deeper into what she thought was the depths of the bottomless pond; though it was increasingly apparent that the murky waters of which she treaded with every stroke of her arms was anything but a pond twenty feet across. Even the fact that she could hold her breath for that long, throbbing aching lungs aside, hinted at the supernaturality of the dimension she found herself in. Every direction looked disorientingly similar, a murky turquoise with clouds of darker green miasma lighted by the infuriating pale light that seemed to emanate from all directions at once.

But just before she thought this whole thing a futile escapade, there from down below where she headed loomed deeper shadows. Dark and menacing, yet the sudden change in environment was almost welcome compared with an eternity of aimlessness.

Vasssssiliii... The sudden sibilant hiss jerked the young Magician's attention, so loud and filled with malicious intent that for a moment she feared her enigmatic anathema had managed to creep up on her from behind. Turning in surprise, she could just make out the creature that haunted Nathaniel's previous foray darting towards her at frightening speeds.

Hurry..! Another voice, softer but no less urgent.

There was no time to ponder on the new voice as Anne was suddenly filled with an overwhelming panic. It was a dreadful trepidation that seemed like she felt not just for herself, but for another. Like an emphatic compass, it drove her in one direction. Downwards.

In a flurry of bubbles, Anne frantically paddled her way into the deepening gloom until the waters all but faded into nothingness. But somehow, something drew her on. Whispering into her aching limbs, urging her with an invisible angler's noose. She just knew where to go. The awful whispering of her name was now a dreadful screech, like the scratch of torn nails on chalkboard, tearing at ghostly vocal chords. It hounded her every move, closer with every keening wail.

Then right below her, out of the depths a wink of ruby red. Blurred in the watery haze, it split into two as the young Magician paddled closer. Then three. And suddenly, she could see it all. Shimmering pulsating rubies. An altar of sorts, ancient and sundered in many places, somehow sunken into the depths of this magical pond. It's stone cracked and worn, settling at an uncanny angle. A slim column of stone set in the middle. Perhaps five feet high and somehow unbroken contrary to the rest of the ruins. But what truly set her heart racing, as a primal fear gripped her heart were the three shrouds that wicked in black smoke, darker even than the lightless gloom of the surrounding waters. They appeared like tattered cloaks billowing in an unseen current too fast for the waters around them. Unmoving from their positions, they knelt at regular angles around the stony column.

Dice roll completed. Trigger activated

The waters turned frigid cold. A deafening screech heralded the onslaught of the demon at her heels. Without thinking, Anne's had reached forth towards the stone column almost as if somehow had pulled on it. Trembling weak hands grasped at surprisingly smooth stone and she felt something shift. Purely on instinct she twisted, then she felt a part of herself pulled out of her chest and through her outstretched arms. A red glow flared under her grasping fingers.

Then all of her was pulled in.

⋨⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋩​

"Hmm? Chance and opportunities? For what? Though I ask that, I suppose you're not just going to tell me are you?" The red-eyed Magician with hair of grey had asked of the cryptic Djinn.

Shubit merely offered a wide close-lipped smile as she swung her dangling legs off the ruins. She graciously offered no explanation. The girl was smart, she would figure out what was said soon enough. All the chosens had their gifts. A sharper mind was clearly one of the young woman's strongest points.

The strawberry haired child watched with keen interest as the two Magicians poked and prodded about the ruins, until a splash brought all of their attention towards the pond. A visibly flustered and winded Nathaniel emerged with all the force of a breaching dolphin, but minus the grace.

"Awh..." A hint of disappointment flashed across Shubit's features as she pursed her lips in mild annoyance. Courage and spontaneity had failed. One down two to go. But though the Cryvere had failed, he had brought invaluable info to the other two. Enough to entice the grey-haired girl to take a plunge. Moments passed and the pond's surface had stilled, glassy as it reflected the growing number of clouds passing overhead. All of a sudden, strands of Shubit's hair began floating as her face broke into a wide grin. She's done it!

"Oh my oh my oh my..!!" The Djinn clapped her hands with an excited giggle as she fixed her all too large azure eyes at the other two that waited by the pond.

"Beware the-!" It was the last thing both Velvet and Nathaniel heard before they were suddenly wrenched from their bodies, their awareness hurtling through the air and down into the pond. Spinning like a whirlpool and then all was dark.

--An event has been triggered by revior revior . It is a group event and also involves NewAgeBlack NewAgeBlack and Matt Matt | ttam. Do not post until you receive further details from me in PM. Prepare for some Dreamwalking!
 
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