Fantasy Save Point! [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

“I fell asleep on the bus….”

It was the only conclusion that the pink-haired Vega Janson could draw as she stared out at the setting sun upon a world that looked like it came more out of a Renaissance festival than the well-lit downtown street she had just left behind. Not that this street wasn’t well lit, exactly. There were street lamps lining the cobblestone path, but there were few buildings lit up. Some had signs that designated what they were with symbols, but others had what Vega could only assume was writing on it.

“You can’t read in a dream, right?” Vega wasn’t sure of that, trying to wrack her brain for any time she’d read in a dream. Being aware it was a dream wasn’t foreign to her. She’d fallen asleep before work before, and managed to wake herself up by finding a pretzel gate – something too bizarre to exist that it jolted her awake.

She sought out something bizarre in the myriad of storefronts and street vendors that seemed to be packing up, ‘I can’t afford to miss my stop!’

Nothing stood out, not the fruits that seemed like hybrids of foods she knew, not the writing she couldn’t comprehend, not even the beings moving around that seemed to show sentience by offering glittering currency – despite looking more animal than human. All of that was just standard fair from shows she watched.

No, the only thing her eyes paused on for longer than a few seconds was a plant growing through the cobblestone, like a weed, but it hadn’t been removed despite how tall it was. In fact, it looked protected, a curious humming sound coming from a semi-transparent dome barrier around it. The plant was at least to the height of her knee! And, of course, she couldn’t help but approach it, wondering why this wasn’t breaking reality as she reached out to touch one of the red bell flowers dripping down, wondering if she could even reach through the strange barrier.

Her hand was slapped away from it before it ever made contact. “Are you mad?”

Vega looked up into the frightened face of a blonde woman, with a boy clutching at her skirts. “I…what’s wrong with the flower?”

The woman only looked aghast at her lack of knowledge, “That’s a Death Bell!” Vega looked back to the plant, supposing the red was a bit like blood, “They’re poisonous to the touch.”

“Then why hasn’t it been removed?”

The woman shook her head, exasperation painting over her horror, “There’s no safe way without the proper magic. That’s why the barrier is there. They die quick enough, it’s easier to just bar them off. Where do you come from you don’t know about these?”

“Um, Illinois?”

No recognition to that name at all. “Well, you’re lucky. Don’t go touching the Death Bells, all right?”

Vega nodded, and the woman stepped away, then hesitated, “Are you…are you trying to get somewhere?”

‘Home.’

It didn’t seem she was going to be waking up easily from this dream. She rose, and noticed she was in the same clothes, which was strange – well, maybe not. The Study Grounds didn’t have a uniform, but it had rules, so she’d started just wearing simple black slacks, matching tennis shoes, and then any sort of solid color shirt. This time it was purple.

Actually, it was strange she even had pink hair, since she usually dreamed less recent hues.

Telling this woman she was trying to get home wouldn’t work. She didn’t know her home. ‘Okay, where do things usually happen?’

“Um, I’m looking for the, uh, tavern. I was going to meet someone there.”

“Which one?”

Of course there was more than one. This town looked big. “The one near the…gate? I got a bit turned around when I went to find my room at the…inn?” She needed to stop making everything sound like a question.

“Well, you’re on the main road,” the woman said, and then pointed down the way, “Head that way, and just keep going. There’s a tavern right outside the gate,” she pursed her lips together, “and be careful. It’s a fine enough tavern, but…some less reputable sorts go there since it’s further from the knights barracks.”

“Ah…right. Thank you.”

She followed the cobblestone road straight down, continuing to take in all she saw, and continuing to realize it was feeling much less like a dream than anything she’d ever dreamt before. ‘Have I ever been truly lucid this long?’ Draconic people were laughing outside a fruit stall. ‘Usually I can just make things happen when I’m lucid….’

She looked down at her hand, and tried to will a spark of light into it. Lightning! She should throw lightning if this was a dream!

No sparks.

‘Flood the streets with lava, like that one time….’

No lava came.

Rain did, sprinkles that started to disperse those outside, before thunder cracked, and brought a downpour.

She ran, forgetting it was a dream, forgetting that this definitely should have woken her up. Water always did, especially water as bracingly cold as this! At least running helped her get to the tavern all the quicker, although once she stepped in to the sounds of jaunty music played on an instrument that, well, mostly resembled a piano, and the din of conversation, she was stricken with a too-lucid, too-waking feeling: anxiety.

What the hell was she going to do here? She had expected something to be going on and waiting for her like any good dream, but it was just people enjoying their evening.

And she probably looked like a drowned rat as she pushed back her wet hair and tried not to laugh at her own situation and confusion, the smile mixing onto her face likely already a touch insane as she stepped further in to get out of the doorway, and find someplace to exist in the bar as she regrouped.

 

[Sam136]

Olivier's eyes blearily open. Consciousness drifts in and out, as he eyes his surroundings while only half awake. He'd probably have fallen right back to sleep if it weren't for the beginnings of his hangover. He'd gotten good at telling when those were going to hit him, a sixth sense granted to those who embarked on the path of alcoholism.

He groans and pushes himself up. He was starting to gain his bearings, starting to take in where he was. The smell of alcohol and people made it obvious, it was a tavern. That wasn't strange, he'd fallen unconscious at many a bar and been subsequently kicked out during closing time by an irate inn keeper.

His hand reaches out for his mug which had somehow made it through the evening without spilling, maybe it'd have something.

It's just as his fingers are about to clench around the handle that an infuriating figure reaches over and pulls the mug away.

“Rosa… give it back”, they growl out.

The tan heavy set woman doesn't even glance at him as she tosses the mug away. Anyone else might have felt some level of worry about pushing a man like him, but not her. Not Rosemarie, matron of the Mended Drum.

“Said it before and I'll say it again, Liver. I'll serve ya, but if ya want to drown yourself in booze ya can find another tavern. The city is filled with them”, she says cleaning a glass, completely uncaring of his glare.

Olivier would have said something but it wasn't worth the hassle. Rosemarie was the worst kind of woman, she was a mom.

Oh, she wasn't literally speaking a mother of any kind, but she had the personality of one. The kind of woman who'd see poor lost souls and pick them up and give them a chance to turn their life around. Half the serving staff fell in that category.

Olivier wouldn't give a shit but she'd seemingly lumped him into that same group. Oh she hadn't ever actually said anything but Olivier wasn't an idiot, he could tell from the way she sometimes looked at him, like she wished she could help him.

Bitch.

Mood soured, he pushes off his seat and makes his way to the exit. He wasn't getting any more booze here, and he'd promised Rosemarie he wouldn't play around with any of her staff, so there wasn't any fun to be had either.

Or rather… that was what he was going to do. Before he saw her.

Olivier blinks at the stranger, that seemed to scurry into the tavern like a nervous rat. A pink haired lass with a strangely brittle feeling expression on her face. Still, pretty enough though.

All that wouldn't be too strange on its own, he'd seen beautiful women before.

No, what drew his attention were her clothes. What in the heavens was she wearing? He'd never seen anything quite like it. It was not the kind of thing he'd ever seen before.

Where in the world was this stranger from?

“Hey there, are you OK? I couldn't help but notice you seem almost dazed”

He hadn't even realized he was approaching her, before he'd even thought anything though he'd laid a hand on the stranger's shoulder and was flashing her a comforting smile.

“Why don't you take a seat? Get something to drink and eat, you look like you could use the food”, he says with another smile.

Maybe this strange pinkette could entertain him. Most likely this whole mystery surrounding her would have a completely mundane explanation, but it was a way to pass the time. If nothing else she was attractive enough company, he could try his luck with her.

“Ahh! Forgive my manners my lady, I have yet to even introduce myself. You can call me Olivier”, he says, giving a small bow.

“And would you do me the honor of sharing your name…?”

 

[Lucyfer]

‘Okay, yeah, this has to be a dream.’

How else was Vega to explain the white-haired pretty boy that approached and addressed her, albeit a bit queerly? It was always the white-haired pretty boys she had a soft spot for in anime and video games! They were also usually the antiheroes, but that still had ‘hero’ in the name, so this couldn’t be bad, right? Sure, he was maybe a bit gaunt, and definitely a bit disheveled, but this was a tavern.

Disheveled wasn’t unusual.

She did tense up a moment at the touch, eyes flicking to his hand, before she willed herself to relax and accept the comfort, and the move to a table, a chair. Food and drink was mentioned, and she worried again over currency, a hundred thoughts flooding her with his introduction, and her attempt to keep grasping at this being a dream.

Shouldn’t she have stopped dripping wet? Dreams rarely followed logic. Rarely remembered she had just been out in the rain.

“I’m Vega, ah, Janson,” she swallowed, answering, “Sorry, you’re right, I’m not quite…oriented.” Obvious, by the way she looked around as if she’d never been in a tavern before, by the way she trailed off as she tried to grapple with the sights inside it.

It wasn’t just any old renaissance faire tavern. The lights flickered in blue-white hues, sparking up from stones, not bulbs, not even fire, though the illusion of the flickering could make one believe it was flame. More of the not-quite humans were within the tavern, as well as plenty of things she was assuming were humans, though now she was starting to wonder.

She couldn’t help but notice a few other eyes had now fallen on her, though some looked off, rolling their eyes after a glance at Olivier.

They all knew something she didn’t.

Well, that was no surprise, considering she knew nothing.

“I don’t have money to buy anything, unless,” the thought struck her that while maybe the dollars she had from tips were meaningless, the coins might be worth something? She shifted, pulled her wallet out of a back pocket, as well as her phone, and set both on the table. She dug into the wallet and let the coins drop on the table, “Are these worth anything here?” the faces of the coins had to be foreign.

The language, too, she realized, given she didn’t understand the writing here.

At least she understood the speech.

“Sorry, this must be odd to you. I’m not from this area of the world, at all.”

Although by how she was acting, she probably didn’t seem from their world, at all. Though she didn’t know how big this world was. Maybe this wasn’t too abnormal. Maybe people with pennies and quarters fell out of the sky often enough.

 

[Sam136]

No idea where she was, seemingly no clue about common items from the frequent looks of confusion, and for all intents and purposes she was practically broke.

Olivier takes the coin from Vega and gives it a glance before flicking it into the air and catching it again.

“I suppose I'll cut to the heart of the matter. What's a pretty girl like you doing in a country she knows nothing about, without a silver to her name? You make it sound like you're a ways off and I'm inclined to believe you, you definitely feel foreign… but you speak our language as if it were your own”

He drops the coin on the table, and slides it back to Vega.

“I'll answer your question first. You might be able to exchange these with a blacksmith for some copper, depends on the metal, assuming of course they're willing to go through the effort to melt and make use of them”

“These coins aren't worth much, they look like Copper at best, though there's some advantages to that. They're small enough that a good number of people might not even care if they're from some far off nation. Though I doubt you'll be able get much use out of them, only so much a couple o’ copper coins can get you”

And with that said Olivier raises a hand and calls over one of the barmaids, he seemingly whispers into her ear before she heads off. What the two spoke about becomes obvious when she returns with two mugs of beer and a platter of some simple but warm food.

“How about a deal, you and me. Lets just talk, you can eat and drink whatever you like while you answer me questions. I'll even toss in some extra by the time we're done if you don't hold back on the details, enough for you get room and board for at least a few days. I'm curious after all, and I simply must know. Though…”

Olivier pauses a playful, roguish grin flitting across his face.

“I would be lying if I said this wasn't on some level an excuse to just talk to a beautiful foreign woman”

There was a smirk on his face, as if he was hoping to see her embarrassed. It was hard to tell how much was just teasing and how much was actually flirting.

 

[Lucyfer]

Olivier shot her straight.

Surprisingly so, and surprisingly forward. It was as refreshing as it was, well, confusing. It alleviated some of her concern as he told her how money worked, and it seemed it was the classic metal coin system. Drinks and food arrived on the table, and were offered freely for her company.

Company he very freely admitted an attraction in.

Vega did flush crimson and give an askew glance away, considering if it would remain harmless if all Olivier got was conversation. ‘Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.’ Vega looked back up and met his gaze.

“Okay,” she agreed, “I don’t have anything to hide, at least, that I know of,” she admitted. Perhaps there was something to hide and she just didn’t know it by the rules of this world. “But I want to ask a few questions, too, since I don’t know where I am, and I’ll need more than coin to get by.”

She reached for one of the mugs to take a sip from it, without really considering what it was filled with. The first sip had her wrinkle her nose and set it right back down on the table. She’d never been a fan of beer, and she wasn’t looking to get drunk with someone who had less than pure intentions.

Thankfully, one of the waitresses noticed. She was watching the table with more interest than technically needed, and she swooped in, “Do you want me to get you something else?” Her smile was bright, her entire demeanor cheerful.

“Um, yes.”

“Sure! What would you like?”

Vega could feel her mind going blank. They weren’t going to have a matcha here, were they? “Can you bring me something sweet?” That was usually safe.

“Of course,” she clapped a hand on Vega’s shoulder, and only then did she notice it was rather cold. Well, no, not cold…just normal. Olivier’s touch had been far warmer. As she did so, she bent down so her lips were at Vega’s ear, “Be careful with him, he’s a womanizer,” she advised, pushing down on Vega’s shoulder to straighten up and heading off to get another drink.

Vega glanced back at her, ‘Already guessed that,’ but looked back to Olivier quickly after, “Sorry – I guess you get two beers immediately.” The flush was leaving her cheeks by then.

She hardly knew he wasn’t getting any before. “Okay, ask away, I’ll probably have questions that come up based on what you want to know,” since it would point out some of the obvious differences between their worlds.

 

[Sam136]

Olivier barely holds back a grin. He enjoyed working his charm and slowly winning over an ice queen but this had its charm too, causing a blush with just a few words. He wonders if she just wasn't used to attention like that, or the directness of it.

He shoots Miranda a small glare, it wasn't hard to figure out what she was most likely saying. There wasn't much heat behind it though, all things considered.

“Well, first of all. Where are you from, why and how did you come here?”

He accepts the beer she passes over taking a sip. He only then notices, she was sopping wet. Hmm, he could help with that, maybe even look cool doing it.

“Let me help you with your clothes first though”

And with those words said, Olivier holds a finger close to his lips, almost as if in a shushing gesture.

A small flame comes to life right above the tip.

He takes a breath, reaching within to that core of heat and power within him. He taps into the warmth, reaching for the flames and the wind. With ease borne of practice the warmth shifts and changes. He directs it to his lungs, the breathe stored within them.

Olivier breathes out.

A burst of warm air passes through the flame. The flame collapses into tiny embers and flows with the wind. For a moment Vega could almost see a tapestry of tiny cinders and embers flowing across the breeze right towards.

The warm wind collides against her, uncomfortable but not painfully hot. It's only for a moment, but it's enough. It was as if the blaze had pushed the water away.

Olivier smirks. He'd practiced that trick for a long time. He couldn't create wind but enhancing an existing breeze? That was much more doable, even if he was the one who made it. The hard part was keeping the flame alight at the same time and then having them ride the currents.

He discreetly glances at Vega to see her reaction. That had been a good one, he didn't doubt she'd be impressed.

“You're welcome”, he says with a wink.

 

[Lucyfer]

Vega had to think a moment on how to answer part of Olivier’s question. That moment of hesitation was enough for him to rise and talk about her clothes. “What? No, I’m—” he made a hushing gesture, unbeknownst to her not at all to make her stop, though she scowled at it anyways, before her eyes went wide.

Fire.

‘This is a dream, remember this is a dream, it’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine.’

Unless it was a nightmare and she was engulfed.

Vega went rigid in her chair as the flame was blown her way as tiny embers, dancing and warming the air around her, removing the wetness of the clothes. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, though not as bad as sitting in front of a campfire when the wind picks you as the lucky winner of a face full of smoke. It didn’t hurt, but she barely even clocked it as uncomfortable in the moment.

She was a bit too terrified to be concerned with that.

Yet, it all faded away, and though a few looks suggested this was unusual, it wasn’t the kind of reaction he’d get in her world.

She swallowed it down as he winked and gave what was probably, ordinarily, a charming gesture.

She managed to relax her hands, which had gone to grip the seat of her chair. She slowly moved the white knuckles to the drink that Miranda brought over after the display, and it was indeed, sweet. If it was intoxicating, all the better at this point.

Her mind had to replay the questions he’d asked in the long draught she took from the beverage, and she shut her eyes for a few seconds even after that, keeping the rim of the cup against her bottom lip, before exhaling and setting it down. Her hands remained wrapped around it. “I’m from Illinois. It’s in the United States of America. I don’t know how I got here. One second, I was leaving my job as a barista, heading to a bus station, and the next moment I’m here, where people do…what you just did,” she opened her eyes, “magic, right? Magic…doesn’t exist where I’m from.”

Did magic bring her here? Like one of those isekai animes? ‘No, you usually get struck by Truck-Kun.’ She didn’t recall dying.

“Is that…what you just did…is that normal?”

It had to be, given the limited reaction. “Sorry – I am thankful to be dry, that was just…a lot.” Her heart was still beating hard in her chest.

 

[Sam136]

Olivier frowns. That was supposed to impress her, not terrify her. Sure it was a bit surprising but he'd made sure his thaumaturgy was clearly harmless, he wasn't an amateur.

Then he hears her words and the frown deepens. No Magic? What ass backwards town did she come from that they didn't know what magic was? But that didn't make sense, magic came from the body and soul, it wasn't the kind of thing you missed, *someone* would have had to have discovered it.

Unless she really was right and she came from a place without any magic at all. How would that work? Did her kingdom have some sort of natural anti-thaumic field?

Olivier hums in thought.

“Normal?”, he asks and then his grin comes back.

“No, I wouldn't say it's normal. After all, my skills as a mage are quite a bit above the common man. I spent years ensuring that. No one else in this establishment… could do that little trick like I did”, there was some obvious pride in that, though part of it was also just him showing off.

“But its not unheard of”, he acknowledges, “somebody might be surprised by the skill with which I used my flames but the magic itself is entirely normal”

He waves a hand.

“You don't need to apologize, I was the one who started you”

Then part of what she said hits him. She'd never planned to be here?

“So… you have no money and no way of getting back. What exactly are you planning to do? I said I'd give you some money, enough for a few nights, but what are you going to do after that?”

It was a polite way to address the fact she was now homeless and jobless.

For a moment Olivier feels a twinge of something. Sympathy? He wasn't sure and he didn't care, he buried the feeling. It wasn't any concern of his, he couldn't care less about someone else's problems.

Maybe he'd point her in the right direction if she needed help though. Wouldn't really cost him anything.

 

[Lucyfer]

Magic was normal here.

Fire magic was normal here.

His skill level may not be, but magic itself was. ‘Breathe.’ She wasn’t not breathing, but Vega took in a deep breath all the same, and let it out slowly. She reached for some of the food, deciding not to analyze what it was. There was a decent chance she wouldn’t know, and indeed, on the first bite into something meaty, she couldn’t even say it tasted like chicken.

But the juices flowed in a familiar, warm way, and the meat tore away from bone just the same, so she swallowed it down as Olivier summed up her situation, “Well, if I don’t wake up from this,” she said, “which I’m still not entirely convinced I’m not dreaming, since my dreams would definitely have a white-haired pretty boy,” well if he was going to be forward, why not match it a little?

Of course that could be the insanity talking.

“I guess I’ll look for a job. I was a barista back home. Um, someone who mixes fancy drinks,” non-alcoholic, but she could learn alcoholic. She was going to be a bar wench, wasn’t she? Not exactly ideal, “and try to see if any magic exists in this world to travel to other planes of existence, or maybe study magic to find a way back home. Once I figure out how magic works.”

That was as practical a plan as she could come up with. She’d need income, and she’d need to find a way back home. She couldn’t just assume she could take her knowledge in law and philosophy and get a job in that field, she’d have to start somewhere low, and build up.

Again.

But she would succeed. She had no choice.

“I don’t suppose there’s a good town to get to that would be close to a magic academy or something, is there?”

A couple of others entered the tavern, robes drenched, but they were willing to part with those and hang them up. Vega only gave them a moment’s glance, before returning her attention to Olivier.

 

[Sam136]

Olivier blinks at Vega's words, and then laughs in amusement. He was starting to actually like this one.

“How flattering, does that make me the man of your dreams?”, he asked, amusement clear.

His tone becomes a bit more serious as he continues.

“I'm sure you'll be a great barmaid Miss Vega but I do believe I should warn you, an education in magic isn't exactly cheap. Not for the kind of thing you seem interested in”, he says, taking a swig of his beer.

She was saying she was from another dimension entirely? Olivier didn't let it show on his face, but he really was wondering if any part of her story was actually true and she wasn't just… you know, crazy.

Well, she was attractive so it didn't matter either way.

Olivier pauses when she asks for a magic academy. A frown forming on his face. He takes another sip from the beer to hide his expression.

“There might be something along those lines I could point you to”, he says noncommittally, “ask me in the morning, the beer is making it hard to really think on it”

That wasn't entirely true.

“Though… you're rather optimistic Miss Vega”

He says rather suddenly, a strange look in his eyes.

“Teleportation magic has only ever been theorized. The kind of thing you're looking for sounds like some madman's fantasy, I doubt you'd find any proper wizard working on it. You'd be better off not holding onto false hope”

He takes a deep swig of his beer.

“The world and the gods don't give a shit about the poor sods who live in it. Doesn't matter how much you want or need something, doesn't change a thing. I'll tell you now, you're not going to find what you're looking for. The sooner you accept that the less of a mess you'll eventually end up”

 

[Lucyfer]

Olivier offered to tell her about an academy – in the morning. 'So I have to spend the night with you?'

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the academy was a sore spot, given the way his earlier charm faded to the bitterness of someone who lost their dreams. Was this why he drank? He had skill – had something gone wrong in an academy? Regardless, she felt something akin to fury bubble up at his dismissal, calling her dream impossible.

“Would you rather I just sit here and drown myself in beer?” It was a pointed question, but also a rhetorical one. She set her bit of meatless bone down on the plate. “I learn to adapt, and I put my all into this, or I give up, and I refuse to give up.”

She excelled.

She always excelled.

Why would it be different here? Sure, there was a sharp learning curve, but she would figure this out. Maybe this was what she was looking for all along? She hadn’t really wanted to be a lawyer. ‘But when you find something you want, really want, will that also be the one thing you can’t have?’

She had never wanted anything, truly. She did what was expected. She excelled in it.

One of the earlier cloaked members rose, to step out, a bit of haste to their steps. Movement that Vega noticed, only because it was movement in her periphery.

“I don’t…doubt that you are right and it will be difficult,” she softened, because she didn’t want to upset the one person who had been kind so far. “But I can’t just give up, either. Just because someone says it’s impossible. Not until I know. Magic isn’t possible at all in my world, but here it is. And I’m here, somehow – so there has to be a way to get back, even if I don’t understand it. Even if you don’t understand it. And I want to go home. I was going to start school to be a lawyer,” a wane smile, as she looked down at the table.

If it took her fifty years, would she still have family? Would she still have friends?

Would her brother think she killed herself?

“I didn’t really want to be one, and I still don’t, but…I want to see my family again. I want to see my brother.” Imagining returning in fifty years to dead parents and a destitute brother…unthinkable. She looked back up, “I’d rather waste my time trying. Please, even if it is impossible, understand that of all the time wasting options, I’d rather put it towards discovery than…well, anything else. We all waste our time with something, right?” A bit of levity, to try and bite back how serious, how real, this was.

She didn’t want to cry over the possibility of never seeing her loved ones again. Not in a bar with someone who thought her dreams were pointless, and might only comfort her to find out what was under her shirt.

Her breath shook on the inhale, though.

 

[Sam136]

To those heartfelt words… Olivier scoffs. The expression on his face could only be considered ugly, as if all Vega's words did was piss him off more.

“Do what you want woman, none of my business. This veil of delusion will be ripped off one day, and it'll burn all the crueler for it”

…and yet despite the words Olivier tosses something her way. It seemed to be a ring, one embedded with a blue gem, almost like sapphire.

“There's a knight academy in the capital. That one's special. Trains you in magic and swords. One of the teachers there fancies himself a scholar, name's Aurarius. Who knows, he might be able to do something for you, or introduce you to someone who can”

“Give them the ring and tell them Haistulf sent you over. He'll at least hear you out, probably”

He turns around.

“I'm heading to bed”

He tosses a coin purse on the table as he leaves.

"That'll be enough for a few nights, food and drink included. If you head out immediately it should be enough for the trip. That's my end of our bargain done with, don't bother me with your dreams again"

 

[Lucyfer]

Magic had definitely hurt Olivier somehow.

Or the Academy.

Likely the Academy given the ease with which he dropped names. As easy as he dropped a ring, and coins, like they were nothing to him now. Vega didn’t want to let him go off angry like that, not with the help, even if it was done in such a hateful way. ‘Aurarius. Haistulf…Olivier Haistulf?’

A family name.

He must have been prominent. Or his family was.

Vega couldn’t help but rise, the chair click-clattering with the quick movement, but not falling over, “Thank you, Olivier!” it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but she didn’t want to piss him off more. “I promise I won’t bother you with dreams again, but thank you for believing in me.” Actions spoke louder than words.

He’d probably scoff.

Claim he didn’t.

And maybe he didn’t – but he helped. He supported.

That meant more.

Of course, that was also when the earlier robed figure returned, and with him, five others.

The one who stayed behind rose. “A touching sentiment,” she said, which, yeah, it probably was, and it was on display with the way Olivier had started to storm to a room, and Vega calling after him. “Pardon me for listening,” she inclined her head, “I heard you indicate you are not from this world,” she lifted it, and let her eyes fall upon Vega, “We have been looking for where you landed.”

Vega held the ring closer to her chest. ‘Not good, not good, not good.’

“What…do you mean?”

“I mean, we brought you here. Though, we were trying to bring someone else, this means you were touched by our Master…and we need you to bring our Master completely home.”

Vega was pretty sure her head filled with white noise at that, trying to make sense of it. “The rest of you, unfortunately, must perish. We cannot have word getting out, you see.”

"Wait--no, I'll come, but who is your Master? What's--I'll help just--" but magic formed in an exhale from the woman who spoke, over a brown ring.

Gusts of wind turned to shards of stone that scattered the room.

 

[Sam136]

Olivier barely holds back the snarl. He didn't care. Was that woman really naive enough to think he actually cared? He'd only bothered with her on the off chance he'd get lucky.

He turns back to say something, he wasn't sure what.

Whatever it was, the words die in his throat, as Olivier sees them. That group of robed figures and their leader, a woman from the sound of her voice.

He'd already started moving, something in the back of his mind telling him this wasn't going to end well.

He was right.

Olivier shoves past Vega.

“Run”

He was charging the moment he saw the mana filter. His own mana burns within his body, he generates and coats his body in it and it's nature shows itself. His body heats up, a sort of energy welling up in him, in his muscles, in the air in his lungs. He was stronger in a sense that wasn't entirely physical and a little lighter too.

Olivier blurs

He'd have to deal with this the one way he could. He couldn't protect everyone from being attacked by some mad Mage, fire magic was anything but defensive.

Still, it was a lot harder to focus on killing innocent bystanders when a maniac was charging at you with a sword. He'd have to hope that would be enough.

Olivier reaches the woman in an instant and unsheathes his blade. The very motion is an attack, the sword racing towards her chest.

In that small moment Vega would notice a hissing, buzzing noise, as if something really hot was vibrating really fast.

 

[Lucyfer]

Vega couldn’t run. She froze, as Olivier moved, and people were stricken with stones around her. Screams and thuds echoed, and blood splattered the room, but blessedly, for the moment, Vega couldn’t turn her head to look at anyone stricken.

She watched the actress of the crime, and by default, watched Olivier as he blurred. The woman did not try to get another attack off, and seemed startled by how he closed the gap between them and moved her arm in the way.

It was severed in the draw, cauterized in an instant, as the hand with the ring fell to the ground.

The woman screamed, “YOU BASTARD!” and tried to breathe in, tried to prepare a gust to blow him back with.

Vega felt hands on her arm, and that shook her from the scene. This, at least, drew up muscle memory from the tae kwon do classes she took back home and she managed to step back and twist forward, changing the angle and releasing the grip. She drove one elbow up into the grabber’s chin and they fell, bringing her into the moment more fully.

There were bodies of people stricken by stones.

There were people hiding, and others engaging the attackers. ‘For me. I was drawn here by these people. Why?’ Contact with their master…none of it made sense, and now wasn’t the time to dwell on sense!

She sloshed beer on the next attacker’s face and bolted for the counter to grab cover, and hopefully, a better weapon, as the one she’d elbowed wasn’t exactly staying down.

 

[Sam136]

“How rude, you don't see me bringing your mother into this”, Olivier quips at the bastard comment.

He's smiling, he looks almost jovial at first, until you pay attention. The smile seemed like that of a shark, and his eyes screamed bloody murder. He was furious.

He races forward to finish the job-

Only to be blown back by the bitch's winds.

Undeterred Olivier swaps directions. He uses the wind to bolster his speed and blasts himself backwards. His blade dancing and cutting off the head of one of the cultists almost as if it were an afterthought.

Blood hisses and steams as the decapitated corpse falls to the ground while Olivier hadn't even slowed down. The mage knight was racing across the tavern like a weasel in a chicken coop.

Olivier comes to a stop, a good distance away, looking at the cultists with a sneer.

“Gods you all came here, acting tough. I thought you'd be worth something. Almost had me excited for a fight and then…”

Olivier gestures vaguely at the severed arm and the dead body nearby.

“Well, let's just say you're not doing a really good job at it. How about you let all these people go and focus on the actual threat here, eh? Cutting your head off while you're distracted would be a bit disappointing, all things considered”, he says with a cocky, infuriating, smirk.

He seemed confident, bored almost, as if he was dealing with a rowdy pup, not dangerous criminals.

…and yet, despite his words. He was breathing just a little heavily. That little show he put on from before had tired him out more then he'd have liked to admit.