The Path of Magic (Kazuki Mitsui and Fluorescent) [Inactive]

Fluorescent

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Fluorescent submitted a new role play:


The Path of Magic (Kazuki Mitsui and Fluorescent) - Surviving in a world where magic is feared.

Arlen, a master of magic with a troubled past, finds the path-weathered newbie to magic, Ren, at his doorstep.
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Ren stared at the door. The door he'd been anticipating for so long now, and seeing it in front of him felt unreal. The building was a book store, not yet open by the looks of it. It was still early morning, after all. Shaking off any nervousness, he knocked on the door with a heavy fist, shuffling back a bit so he wouldn't miss anything once the door was opened. But there was no answer. Bouncing his weight back and forth between his feet, he waited impatiently. Snapping, he tried again. Still no reply.


Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his lips together thoughtfully as he debated what to do next. I've come so far, I'm not going to let some silly door stop me. Not knowing if the owner was even home, he plucked a chain of metal tools from his coat pocket, rifling through until he landed on a slender file. Looking over his shoulder in both directions to check if he had an audience, he slid the pick inside, the heavy lock taking a surprising length of time to pick. Finally, a soft click signaled his work hadn't been fruitless. Wouldn't a wizard have some kind of enchament on this, maybe an alarm of some sort? The later was still a possibility, so he stepped inside quickly, shutting the door behind him.


"Uh, hello?" He called, his voice getting lost in the fullness of the room. Books were stacked about the place in every given cranny, the dense, sour and homey scent of old pages coating the room will a surreal calm. The dull thud of his books on the floorboards was the only sound, breaking the silence. Unable to help himself, he ran his fingertips over the spines, tilting his neck at an awkward angle in an attempt to read the faded lettering. Splashed of golden light from the compact windows made some harder to make out. I wonder if any of these are spell books? Or tales of mystical creatures? They're normally outlawed, but if this guy lives up to the stories, he should have things like that, right?
 
Arlen groaned when he had heard the knocking at the door. He knew whoever it was wasn't getting in so he rolled over in his bed, letting the two books he had on his chest fall to the floor. He flinched a bit from the noise and got up from the bed, stretching his arms up to the ceiling, letting out a satisfied groan. Arlen rubbed his eyes from sleep and sauntered into his small washroom. He stumbled over to the mirror and looked at himself long and hard, frowning. The man scratched his stubbly jaw and jumped when he heard something coming from downstairs.


Arlen knew whoever it was, he could take them easily. He tiptoed down the stairs and saw a young man standing in his shop.


'I could've sworn I had locked the door...' Arlen thought to himself as he rounded the corner and grabbed the young man's arm. "Who are you and what are you doing in my shop?" Arlen asked angrily, narrowing his piercing green eyes at the kid.
 
The mysteries of the deep? What does that title refer to I wonder? 'Deep' as in water, or deep as in 'read this poetry I wrote, it's about how my tears could fill the ocean'? Either way, why-


Ren's thoughts were broken by a firm grip on his arm, taking him by surprise and making him tear his arm away instinctively. His heart accelerating as he entered fighting mode, he only stopped to breathe once he realized this man was the one he was looking for, or at least, he hoped. Be polite, don't piss him off. . .any more than breaking into his house would.





"Oh, yes, it was," he confirmed, smiling weakly. Steeling himself, he started the speech he'd written in his head months ago. "I want to be your apprentice," he demanded, steel in his eyes. "I want you to teach me magic, show me how to use it. I've traveled from Kinyr in the North, turning me back now would be a grave injustice." Ren was engulfed by excitement, his body practically letting of waves of anticipation.
 
Arlen narrowed his eyes at the boy- well, the stranger standing in his store sure looked like a nothing more than a mere child. He let go of the stranger's arm and circled him, looking him up and down. Arlen sighed and ran a hand through his slightly messy brown hair. "Follow me..." He murmured, looking over and seeing his front door ajar. With a wave of his hand, the door shut by itself and the lock he had on the door locked once more. "Crafty..." Arlen mutter to himself as he led the stranger upstairs to his messy living quarters.


"Have a seat please." He ordered, pointing to a chair at a small table stacked with books. "Tea?" He asked, turning his back to the boy to set the teapot in the fireplace. With a snap of his fingers, the logs in the fireplace sparked and a fire soon crackled there.


Arlen then stood and turned around, getting to work on clearing the table. "So tell me, what is your name?"
 
Following his instructions, Ren pulled a chair away from the book-littered table, sitting down heavily and leaning back in his seat. "Sure, I-" he choked, not expecting the sudden rush of flames. It's just as they say, his ease with magic is clear as day. Eyes wide with wonder, it took him a few long seconds to find his voice, which was far out of character for him. "My name's Warren, but I don't fancy sounding like a dungeon guard, so Ren will do just fine," he breathed, still in awe. "So it's true then?" Ren gushed. "You're a master of magic?" Since he hadn't been booted out yet, he figured he stood a chance, the notion making his head grow light.
 
Arlen heard the water boiling and poured two cups of hot water before putting teabags in both of them, using his magic to levitate the last few books off of the table. Arlen brought both teacups over and sat down across from Warren. He sipped his tea and almost choked when he heard the part about him being the "master of magic."


"E-Excuse me... Now who did you hear that from, Warren?" Arlen asked, his pretty face contorting into a frown as he straightened up in his chair. "I don't tell a lot of people I'm a wizard...only fellow wizards. The only reason why it used magic in front of you is because I can tell you're one too..."
 
Ren watched Arlen prepare the tea, trying his best not to stare, but failing miserably. After the tea cup had been placed in front of his, he glared at it suspiciously, as if it might erupt into flames at any given moment. Propping his hands on the table, he peered inside, and finally satisfied, he brought it to his lips and gave a hesitant taste. "You really have no idea?" He asked disbelievingly, brows arching upwards. "You're practically famous on the streets, rumors are everywhere," Ren insisted, "but I'm the first to find you, going on how you don't already have an apprentice by your side." He paused to take another drink of the tea, the tart, earthy flavors settling his stomach pleasantly. "How did you know?" Ren asked wistfully, head tilted unintentionally to one side. "But yes, I have magic too, but I haven't the slightest idea how to use it. . ."
 
Arlen's eyes widened and he gulped. Had he really been that careless with his secret- well no one in the kingdom seemed to approach him about about it so he felt that no one knew...? If they did though, he'd be in a load of trouble since the king was looking for a new wizard and all of the nobles would try and capture him for their own personal gain.


"Well no one in this kingdom knows, so it'd be in your best interest to keep your mouth shut about it." He sighed and stood pacing the room a moment. "Anyways, I can tell if someone is magic or not. I had these powers handed to me a long time ago- when I was only sixteen...but you... You were born with those powers, yes?" Arlen's eyes danced with amusement as he studied the young wizard. "That's truly a gift." He whispered, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at Warren. "And what makes you think I'm even looking for an apprentice?" Arlen asked with a soft confused smile, knitting his brows. "I'm well over fifty years old and never once have I taken on an apprentice...do you know why, Warren?" He asked softly before scowling. "Because it's too much of a hassle!" He yelled, slamming his fists down on the table, causing every unlit candle and even the fire in the fireplace to flare up to the ceiling for a brief moment.
 
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