The Last Wizard

[Eyeris]

The Last Wizard
Chapter 1
The Call

Fronasybill Alith

She would certainly suspect that something important was about to happen, perhaps she would sense it like one feels the change of season comming... a scent of autumn leaves on a late summer night, or the tiniest purple crocus seen emerging from the blankets of snow.

Shayl the victorious, whom had had only been an occasional presence in her memory. Within the last year, he suddenly became a common sight in the castle. He spoke with her father, the Emperor, behind closed doors in candlelight, in hurried hushed tones as they traversed the castle corridors. Her father had began to look at her differently, she would catch his glower from the corner of her eye; his eyes and expression a strange mix of worry, rage, and love.

Six months ago her father abruptly ceased all of her marriage negotiations, and refused to consider further proposals.

At last, the Emperor would confront her. The two were enjoying a rare moment of solitude over tea. He dismissed the servants and guards, then he reached across the table, past the teacups to enfold her tiny hand in his large calloused palms. His icy eyes bore into hers.

“My daughter... You make me proud, and I love you more than you will know... I have never doubted your capabilities nor loyalty to me. However, there is something I must ask, a question I never imagined would be asked to anyone in my lifetime... never my own daughter...”

“First, you must understand that the choice is yours my daughter. You must bear the weight of the decision, both its rewards and risks.”

He slowly slid his hand from hers. He took a sip of the rich dark tea, before explaining.”

“My tutor, Sahayle the Victorious, is the last Wizard in the world. We all imagined that he would die the last. However,” He tapped his nail against the porcelain. “This does not have to happen. In fact, we do not wish it to anymore...”

“Sahayle will seek apprentices, passing on his knowledge of the Art to those who have potential.”

His eyes would bore into her again. “... Like you.”

Darthus Ironhand

Otherwise, it was a normal day at the Ironhand smithy. The smithy was always a place of incredible transformations: The bellows fed wind the embers, the forge turned stiff metal into white-hot liquid.

It was a very busy day, the smith was busily engaging customers, bragging about his daughters growing talents, assisting his daughter at the forge when he had a spare moment. His son was expected to help, but he truly was not paying attention how the boy occupied himself.

A young girl quietly slipped into the smithy shop. She slowly paced its shelves, surveying the wares with wide hazel eyes. She had a freckled moon-shaped face and incredibly long dusty-brown hair. She seemed to be around 16 years of age, dressed practical earth-toned traveling clothes.

She paused, her eyes glued upon an object in the lower shelves. She lifted the small bobble gingerly in her fingertips. It was not quite like the other items in the shop: The overall shape of the thing was a bit clumsy, yet, it had extremely intricate swirls and shapes etched across its surface. She turned it over several times, then quickly approached the blacksmith.

She had to tug at his elbow to receive the Master Smiths attention. She presented to him the object in her left hand, and the coinage in her right. When he questioned her, she wouldn’t speak to answer, nor heed suggestion to buy a more worthy item of its kind. Through her expression and body language; she insisted. When the smith conceded to her quiet stubborn will, she clenched the object tightly in her hands and quickly turned to leave.

She stopped briefly at the threshold, turning to catch the glance of a boy with a green and red eye. She smiled widely at him, then disappeared.

One week later a well-dressed messenger arrived, who handed his father letter sealed with the imperial seal. It was a summons for his son from The Emperor himself... and Sahayle the Victorious.

The messenger had a carriage ready, but would await whatever preparations needed to be made for the boy, even days if necessary. Every courtesy would be extended to the family.

The carriage would be ready when he was ready to leave; a small quick fast carridge, yet still more expensive and fancy than any carriage the boy had been in before, and with a small guard assigned to protect it. It was red, painted and carved with golden flourishes.

Arrow

A thin cloaked figure traversed the alleyway. The night was cold and humid from the day’s rain, but the clouds had blown away and moonlight reflected from the dark puddles, and glinted from a clear faceted object in the stranger's hand...

The clear-purple stone was held dangling from a golden chain. The stranger would walk from street to street, block to block. They would pause at each intersection, producing the chain and stone from the folds of the earth-brown cloak, dangling it for a few seconds. Then they would tuck it back into the cloak and bolt of in one direction or another, before they attracted attention...

The stranger approached the girl, she was asleep in the cold dank alley. She was shadowed from the moonlight, most would have simply passed her by...

The stranger knelt, pulling out the pendulum and dangling the stone before the sleeping girl.

It spun in a small tight circle... then suddenly heaved toward her.

Arrow might catch a glimpse of it as she awoke, the stranger would snatch the stone into her hand and tuck it back into her robe before the girl could see exactly what had happened. The stranger stood, taking a few steps back to stand in the moonlight, allowing the girl to fully awaken.

The stranger would extend a thin pale hand, beckoning the girl to follow.

Rhea Brax

The road Bahara was long.

But also long in coming...

Sahayle the Victorious had not been seen in the court of Braxs in 18 years. He had honored its Lord Sethres in his youth, and paid respects to his mother Synelle, whom had died for the cause of peace. Eventually, Shayle left every court: he spoke that he desired to live out the remainder of his days in peace and solitude.

He was never present, but ever watching... he particularly watched the house of Brax. He watched the young Rhea’s birth, watched her bloom in childhood... Anyone could tell she took after her grandmother, only Shayle saw how much. The girl was brilliant, brimming with magic. As she grew older the time grew nearer...

Surely the house of Brax would hear rumors of his increased appearances in the royal palace. They might suspect, Sahayle there to make plans with the Emperor. They would eventually receive a letter, parchment marked with the imperial seal. It was a summons, should Sethres permit, his daughter Rhea would be escorted to the Imperial palace, to give an audience to the Emperor and Sahayle the Victorus.

The letter was signed by each.

Soon after Lord Brax sent his reply... much sooner than expected, surely the reply had not yet reached the capitol? Yet, the carriage would arrive when the girl was ready...

Sven Caldorous

The thief was left locked in his cell. They didn't tell him when he would be released, or when his training would begin. They left him to wait, and wonder at his future, ponder his diminishing prospects.

He would, however, immediately observe an improvement the frequency and quality of his food, and other small but precious comforts allowed to him.

~

“I still do not comprehend your... choice. Are there so few with the gift? We must resort to training outright criminals to be Wizards?”


“It is unlikely that you ever will. My choice is for the betterment of your kingdom, trust in this, you must trust in me.”

~

Without natural light, it was difficult for the thief to discern the exact number of days that had passed between his conversation with the Emperor, and the sound of his lock releasing. The wrought iron bars dragged across the filthy floor as the guards hauled open the cell.

One guard stood before the door, holding a lantern. The guard that stood before him was familiar, part of the regular warden rotation. His face was mostly concealed by his helm. “It’s time, kid.” He had a rough-edged gnarled voice. “Follow me.”

The guard would lead the still-shackled thief down the all and up a dark twisting stairwell, they were followed by two more guards. The sound of their boots and the sharp noise of clanking armor echoed along the stone stairway.

Finally, the jangling of iron keys resounded, the lead guard opened the tall wooden door... daylight spilled into Seven’s eyes for the first time in weeks...

When his vision cleared, he would find himself outside the dungeon tower. The guard would about face, taking the boys shackles in his hand, and releasing his wrists with the iron keys.

“Haven will show you where you're to be staying apprentice.” There was a hint of amusment peppered in the guards deep gruff voice. He hooked the shackles and keys back onto his thick belt. “No funny stuff. You’re being watched.”

He would notice a girl standing on the grass. She had very long hair twisted into an intricate braid, and wore a plain but well-tailored blue dress.. and bare feet. She would turn to him and smile, sending him a small friendly wave.

The guards would disappear back into the dungeon. Leaving the criminal, no, the apprentice to his fate.

Dimitric “Tric” Scandellev

“S-Someone... someone wants to talk to you!” Whispered the stagehand. She spoke in a quiet concerned tone.

The show had gone off without a hitch, a rare event in theatre. The circus was always a fabulous experience; light, musical, spectacle, exotic beasts and tricks. Men who could imitate magic with thin strings and quick fingers... but a flawless production, with no late entrances or exits, no missing or malfunctioning wardrobe pieces, no forgotten lines nor stumbled words, none of the riggers were too drunk for their task... should have been taken as an ill omen.

“I-I don’t know who it is... they-they’re Imperial guys.. and... and...” never before had a noble spoken to her, she imagined some great terrible trouble. She swallowed. “He’s waiting.”

Charles "Cat Nap" Frimbard

Through the unsung shadowy spaces that each city has, a message rippled through the ‘scum puddle’ of the city. “I am looking for... Cat-Nap” a cloaked man spoke to a homeless boy in a ditch. “Let him know I have a job.” He passed a small fold of parchment, and a thick gold coin to the boy. “I will be waiting for him.”

Both were more than they appeared to be. The man with the note, well, Charles would discover his true identity in time. The ‘homeless’ boy in the ditch, was actually a thief, a look-out for a local operation.

The boy kept the coin and passed on the note to a friend... who passed it on to a friend, who passed it on to a friend...

Who was finally, a friend of Charles. “A job unlike what any ‘yewv ‘ad before. used to.” said the man who finally handed the parchment to its intended recipient.

~Time, Water, Light~

Was all it said.

“Don’t make much sense to me.” Said the deliverer. “'e Just said also that ‘eed be waitin’.”

[EenyMeenyMinyMo]

Hearing the stammering girl mumbling out her worried sentence sent shivers of ditress throughout Tric's body. Worried that he might have to run in the end, he pulled one of the small explosives from the stage so that he could at least distract them long enough to get away.

Smiling, he thanked the girl...what was her name again? Oh well, moving on, he left the backstage area, and approached the Imperial Guards. He took a few minutes to calm himself before approaching them, he cannot lose his hard won reputation. If nothing else, he will go with them willingly and run later.

Going up to him, he had constructed a carefully set gracious smile on his face, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture he continued to say "Welcome sirs to my show, I hope you enj..." just then he noticed in the background was none other than Sahayle the last known Wizard. A sense of wonder shot through Tric, and then fear. Why would the Wizard come to his show? He doesn't think he needs to get rid of me? It's qiute ridiculous how much people will believe that illusion and trick is actually magic.

All of a sudden one of the guards laughed at Tric's stunned expression "Weren't expecting to see the Great Wizard were you? I reacted the same way when I was told to guard him on his trip, though I didn't think he'd actually need the assistance if you get what I mean." Laughing the guard tried to make me feel more at ease in the current situation.

Looking around Tric tried to find somewhere to escape to if need be, and then hurriedly asked "Sorry for my reaction, the shock was quite disabling. May I ask what you have come to my humble show for?" Smiling, Tric reached into the sleeves of his stage outfit, which were long and flowing. And helped to hold items like explosives.

"We came to give you this..." reaching forward the guard who had laughed earlier handed Tric a letter with the Imperial seal on it. "Don't look so uneasy, it's just a friendly summons" joked the guard, who looked a little worried.

"You do realize that I know no real magic right? These are but humble tricks that I use to entertain the crowds, nothing more." hurriedly attempting to explain, Tric knew that he was going to be charged with some terrible crime and he wasn't having that happen.

Laughing at me the guards told me there was nothing to worry about and that there would be a carriage waiting for him if he chose to answer it.

Saying goodbye Tric hurried off to prepare to leave. It hurt saying good bye to his family, but he must. This will help them all in the end.

Going back home, he started packing, only stopping to eat really quickly. About two hours later his family got home after their shows. Entering the house he approached them to tell them what had happened. Yet they already knew. “Did you not think news would travel quickly? What did you think that we wouldn’t hear that he wanted to see you and we wouldn’t hear about it?” his mother scoffed incredously. “What did he want?” she continued in a more worried tone.
Looking at his family Tric passed the summons on, saying that he thought that it had something to do with his magic show. Looking at the parchment, his family was silenced for some time. Until his father turned and said “We don’t have much choice but to answer it, do we?” His mother looked stricken, but didn’t deny it, nor argue. Strange, his parents agreeing on something, that was a new experience for Tric. Moments later the “Family” was called together and a lot of naysaying about the government took place, but it was followed by Madame Charrie saying that she wouldn’t let me put her family at risk if it was just a summons. And all in all, if the Emperor thought he could hurt anyone of her children he had another thought coming, because she would rage war. Madame Charrie continued her tirade later into the night, getting more drunk by the minute. After she collapsed it was obviously time for bed.
When the next morning came by, it was quite a sober, but dry-eyed event. Excluding my mother, who had clutched Tric and told him that if he had to kill the Emperor himself, he was to come home to her in one piece. Slowly disengaging his mother from his body, Tric said good bye to everyone else. Walking up to the carriage he climbed in, and it set off.

[Barsavis]

Arrow
Arrow jumped to her feet frantically looking around, checking for stolen personal items or assailants. She hated sleeping in the streets but she had dwindling funds and inns had a tendency to be expensive. Really she had already blown enough money so that she could not return to her home. Toll was impossible to pay so it meant sneaking through fields and being chased by dogs. Her funds were so low she was going to have to give up her continuing harassment of the Wizard soon without any other choice.
She had entertained the idea of crime but really didn't have the hart for it so it was just a fanciful idea like when someone imagines they are a pirate. No she would feel awful actually taking advantage of well meaning and cautious sorts. Even the rich would not be a target, for what is the point of becoming rich if it just means you are a fair mark for jerks?

She cautiously stepped forward out of the pitch shadow of the building and into the moonlight with the stranger. Something seemed to be tingling in her, maybe it was terror, maybe it was mystery (which she would down by the bushel if she could), and maybe it was her long-forgotten common sense. Any which way you slice it, she felt compelled to follow… and so she did.

[DaedalusDreams]

"Hurry up, Dar, that carriage won't wait forever," called Darthus' father. He stood in the doorway of Darthus' room, watching his son collect the last of his belongings. They had gotten all of the necessities such as clothing packed early. Now Darthus was going through sentimental items, trying to decide what to take and what to leave behind.

It's a royal carriage, Dad. I doubt that it has anywhere better to be. If they wanted to hurry me, they'd have sent the royal guards. At least, that was what Darthus wanted to reply. Standing up to his father in the slightest had always frightened him, however, so instead he just nodded and focused on his task. When he was done he had decided to leave most of his unnecessary items behind. His father gave him rare praise for being so practical, but the simple fact was that Darthus didn't feel that desperate to remember his life here, no matter how long this summons lasted. He didn't hate it, or his family for that matter. He just wasn't that attached to it. So it was that he found himself standing outside next to a royal carriage loaded up with his clothes and toiletries, and only a single belt pouch on his hip. Inside the pouch was an unshaped blob of metal that was "so full of impurities it's holding the essence of sin itself," as his father put it. He had given it to Darthus on his birthday a few years back, since the boy had found the colors and swirls in the metal to be spellbinding.

His family came out to see him off, of course. His father was as distant as Darthus had always felt him to be, but wished him luck after suggesting that if he got paid by the Emperor that a few coins for the family wouldn't be a bad idea. His mother was kinder, but not by much. She told him to make sure to write whenever he could, and to let them know when he'd be back. Saying goodbye to his sister was the most emotional time out of the lot, since they had always gotten along remarkably well considering their differences in skills and personalities. They embraced, and she promised to send along any works that needed "a good dose of Darthus scribble," as they had come to call his engraving talent, and to come visit him if he was there for long and time allowed. Then Darthus was in the carriage and off, to what fate he could not yet imagine.

[Kaonashi]

Fronasybill
Over the months her studies have gone nicely. The strange repeating occurrence was that every day she kept growing, by the present day she was now five feet and five inches tall. How much she would grow in the upcoming years she expected it much, and that did not make her happy but there was nothing she could do about it. Though it was always an odd thing about her, even if her mother was a tall woman this was almost inhumane. There was another strange thing, she had a sense about it but there were changes such as how her father looked at her and the abrupt ceasing of all her marriage negotiations, there were not that many actually. She was almost as tall as other princes, even taller than her own brother. Shayl had become a regular appearance, so the oddness of him being around faded with short time. But she paid not much attention to him, she had her studies.

Lately she had watched others play the Hiarte(Like a piano, except the music has more echo) meaning to learn it sometime soon, but they told her that her weak growing body would not be able to handle playing. It had not stopped her though, she still watched and sometimes played a few simple notes in a pretty tune. Despite her continuing attempts it failed, they had watched her dance before and it showed that her body was certainly not weak actually.

Right now was one of those simple rare moments she spent with her father alone. Her attire consisted of her usual garments, cleaned of course as dirty clothes did not please her. She had a bit of a cat's tongue, so her tea was prepared a little less hot to not disturb her. It did not have much sugar but more milk, and was a medium brown color. Her father's icy eyes did not affect her, she had looked at them for her whole life. In fact she admired the color, unlike hers which were instead a warm brown, she didn't like that. For a while after her father had told her that she would have the choice to become an apprentice of the last wizard she stayed still. Choosing to take it on would be a big step, as she knew that magic was on bad terms with the rest of the kingdom as she had heard.

The risk was much, but the possibilities of what would be able to happen were endless. Fronasybill looked at her father with the same expression she usually had, slightly sad if it was not emotionless. Magic was a great thing, in her opinion it should not die because of a mishap that endangered, because everything deserved a chance really. It can not die, and it seemed as though she were of a few, because if more then she probably would not have gotten the offer. There could not be any other choice right? And her brother would take over the kingdom anyway as she thought, so there would be no trouble with who would be the heir.

Finally she opening her mouth to answer, in her usual childlike quiet toned voice,"I guess that I am now an apprentice then." The way she said it came out a bit broken worded, as she was still a bit shocked from the sudden news. "Do you know who the others are?"she asked out of curiosity, she would have to meet them sooner or later so she wanted to know what they were like.

[Marx]

Sven Caldorous

Sven's steps were unsteady and for a mere moment, he grabbed at the leaving guard for balence, saying quietly "Sorry," for as of late he had seen no trace of the sun and for the first time in weeks he was being bombarded by glaring overhead light. The fresh air that filled his lungs sent a chill through his body since it was the first time he had not taken a breath of stale air with the scent of smoke from a nearby fire. It was paradise to be free -in a sense- once again. Yet as quickly as he took pleasure in the sudden reemergence to world outside the cell, he remembered the guard's word. He was in fact being watched. Not only by the curious girl some five meters away, but by a guard looking down from the gargantuan stone walls, his fingers already in position to draw and fire an arrow. "Cocky bastard." Sven muttered, leaning back against the adjacent wall for a moment. As his eyes scanned over his surroundings, at least one thing became abundantly clear. He wasn't going anywhere.

Sven shrugged off the unpleasant musing for now though, giving a spin to the key he snatched from the guard when he was feigning loss of balance. There was only one door in and out of the dungeon and Sven was currently the sole owner of it. Deciding to be generous, he slipped the key into the lock, turning it until he heard the satisfying bolt drop into place, sealing the door shut and with a grin, he put pressure on the part of the key in the lock, snapping it so it would be stuck in the hole. The guard was a cheeky bastard who had it coming and the worst punishment Sven would see for this would be a slap on the wrist, maybe. First they'd have to find a way to break through the door.

Sven about-faced and headed over toward the girl, putting a hand over his eyes so he could see through the sea of light and make out what the girl looked like. She looked harmless enough, though he was a bit confused as to why she was wearing no shoes. Any one who could afford clothing as finely made as hers would be able to afford shoes. It wasn't worth much thought, he'd just have to deal with her for the time being. "Hello, miss," he said with a flash of a uniquely white smile -something rare in the time of little dental care-, "so you're the one who'll be showing me around, eh? It's an honor to be in your care." With that he gave her a bow, imitating the gentlemen he'd so often stolen from.

[Ethir]

Charles looked up as a contact he recognised as his own approached him, a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hand, and nodded as he received the letter from the man. He dismissed him with a wave of his hand shortly after the deliverer had finished passing on a message and he carefully unfolded the parchment to find three words written neatly, with fancy scrawling handwriting. Time, Water, Light..? The written words echoed over and over again in his head, and he decided to take a walk around the medium sized town he was currently residing in to make sense of the riddle. Making his way slowly out of the darkened alleyway he had been living in for the past week, he let his feet take him wherever they saw fit at a gentle pace and slowly pondered on the letter he had received. At first, he had no idea what on earth they could mean but, as he made his way through the winding, cobblestone paved streets an idea suddenly dawned on him. At the center of the town was a magnificent water fountain, a beautiful masterpiece with a large marble clocktower guarded by 4 stone horses, each reared up and holding their front legs high in the air. From the mouths of the horses spewed a steady stream of water, spraying just below the height of the tall middle tower and gliding gracefully down into the round pool below. Atop the clocktower, there glowed a blinding white light that was the life of the town, as it always had been since it's construction. The gas light had never been turned off since it was revealed to the citizens and glowed as brilliantly today as it had the day it had been placed on it's timekeeping holder. It was here that Charles thought the letter was sending him, and so it was here he made his way to, stopping once to pocket a coinpurse slung temptingly on a retiring merchant's belt. The smile of his minor success was still on his face as he reached the edge of the fountain pool, and he stared at the bright white light atop the clocktower before he had to look away, lest he be blinded by the brilliance of it. His smile still evident, he stood in front of the fountain and bathed in the cooling spray of the water, silently waiting for the stranger who had contacted him.

[Eyeris]

Dimitric “Tric” Scandellev

The interior of the caridge was more more than comfortable. He sunk into the soft red velveteen cushions. The buttons and flourishes were painted gold. There were two long seats facing one another (The messenger was sleeping across from him) with many cabinets and small doors underneath their feet and above their heads. If he looked to the ceiling he would find it a dark blue, with the constellations painted in gold above them...

He would wait a short time while his luggage was secured. When the escort ready He would hear the driver call from outside "Carry on!" And the vehicle begin to move forward.

The forward motion would startle and wake the messenger. He was a thin young man, perhaps 25, dark of hair and blue of eye. His cloak was fastened by an emblem that had not been seen in many generations. It was the symbol that was once worn only by special messengers dedicated to the Wizards. It seemed as if this was the case once again...

"Ah... are we about it?" the messenger shuddered as he woke, stretching himself a bit "Master Scandellev," he polished a set of glass spectacles, and perched them carefully upon his nose. They magnified his dark blue eyes, giving his expression a strange bug-like quality. "We've a long way ahead of us, we have plenty of food and drink. Are you hungry or thirsty?"

The messenger was apparnetly more accostumed to giving messages than listening, for he spoke onward without waiting for reply. "I saw your show you know. You nearly had me fooled!"

The cartridge slowed to a stop. "Hold on but a moment." The hurried out the door.



& Darthus Ironhand

Darthus would find he would not be escorted alone. The tall, dark hair, bug-spectacled messenger would open the door or the young boy with a smile, then help the footmen secure his luggage.

Darthus would find another, Dimitric, already inside.

They would be quickly joined by the messenger, and be on the move. Darthus's would watch his home and family slowly roll away through the window...

"Master Ironhand," The messenger polished his glasses. "We have a long journey ahead but plenty of food and drink to satisfy us. Are you hungry or thirsty?" He repeated nearly verbatim.

And again continued on without awaiting reply. "And entertainment... do either of know the game of chess?"




Arrow

The cloaked figure nodded.

The stranger lead the way deeper into the alley, then out, did they travel in a circle? Two? They slowly wove their way deeper into the city. The streets became cleaner as they wound their way into the wealthy districts.

The high-spires of the palace loomed closer and closer...

The stranger hopped over a short wall, entering a vine-encroached garden. Arrow would be struck by branches and leaves, she would have to press her way through the foliage of the neglected space...

The moonlight was shrouded by the tall spires of the palace, she would hear a door open, and see the figure disappear into a dark hallway...

Arrow might now realize, that they were sneaking into the palace...




Fronasybill Alith

Her father stilled listening to her answer. He gave no indication weather her decision made him happy or displeased... likely, it was both.

He took a long sip of his to finish his tea. "I do not know them all..." She would see that something troubled him. "Sahayle the Victorious is gathering them as we speak. They will live here at the palace, where you shall all train together under his eye." he placed the empty teacup on the table.

"I shall show you." He stood, he was yet taller than his daughter, a mountain of a man. He lead his daughter and escort across the palace.

The now-little used wing was once the dwelling-place of Wizards before the war. It had been kept clean over the years out of respect but none lingered long in those once-magicked spaces. They feared residual spells and ill luck... The wing was near the libraries, and the high-star-gazing tower.

"The others will be living here, their rooms have been prepared. They shall be arriving soon... perhaps within the next few days." They entered a large round chamber, it was empty, made entirely of flat pale stone, carved with strange groves. It was difficult to imagine what its purpose once was.




Sven Caldorous

The girl, Haven, waited patiently for Seven's eyes to adjust. She smiled and nodded deeply to him, then, she returned his bow with a curtsy. She fanning out the blue-fabrics of her skirt a little to wide and dipped herself down much to low. It was graceful, but nothing like a proper curtsy, it was either an invention of her own, or she had just learned the custom and not yet mastered it.

She waved with her hand for him to follow. She walked through the grass, disregarding the walkways laid out by the exterior designers. She would turn her to him every few moments, to be sure that he followed. Her disposition was extremely cheerful, her barefooted walk quick and graceful... her silence was a bit strange...

They entered the palace, she waved and smiled at each guard they passed, they permitted her through each threshold with a nod.

The inside of the palace was a decadent maze, huge, bright, imposing. She lead him through halls corridors and stairwells without saying one word, yet constantly looking to him with bright expressive gold eyes...

She would lead him to a modest yet comfortable room. A large soft bed with fresh sheets, a closet large enough for him to walk into filled cloths in tailored to his size... The window revealed that they were in a tower of sorts, he could see the west side of the castle, and the city sprawling out below them.

The girl spread her hands as if to say here it is! This was to be his room.

It was much more comfortable than his last imperial accommodation...




Charles "Cat Nap" Frimbard


"I am pleased that we have found one another." A man stepped out of the dark shadow thrown by the horse-guardians. The glaring light was a strangely errie memorial. He was wearing a long black cloak, his face was difficult to discern in the strange light. He had the deep voice of an elder, yet stood tall and strong.

As he moved toward Charles, his age began to show through, he used a cane to steady his walk. "I found you some time ago... I hope you will will understand why I must be discrete... I suppose then I should forward to the point of our meeting."

"You posess certain talents, that I am interested in." The man sat on the edge of the fountain. The back of his cloak quickly became moist, yet he did not seem to mind. With his back facing the lantern, his face was still obscured, yet Charles would see the ends of his long silvery beard. "I am not speaking of your business talents, which are certainly something to speak of, but I am speaking of something else. A latent talent..."

"If you are curious, you may attend me and I shall teach you to use this talent. Or, if you heed my warnings of danger, and would like to continue your present life uninterrupted you can go home. You will go to sleep and forget my message, and forget that we ever meet."

The old man turned his head, the light caught his silver eyes. "'How shall I make a man forget himself?' you must be wondering..."

"With Magic, Charles. The talent I speak of is Magic, True Magic."

"I do not expect you to believe me at my word, I am yet a stranger. Would you like proof? Name it, something small mind you, we must be discrete and our time is shortening... If you name the trick, you will be assured that it is not my preconceived deception."

[Barsavis]

Arrow

It holds true as a principal of any reality that the worst kind of torture one can face is being hooked by curiosity and then never finding out the mystery. Really, one of the sure fire ways to get people raging mad at you is to tell an interesting story and then stop before the reveal. It is a sin against humanity to do something like that and yet it is a continuing agitation.

Little is known of the first war, and I mean the very first. I had to do some homework using a time-machine to find this out, so do not brush this information off lightly. It was actually started when an audience of ten primitive but physically powerful men were listening to a story told by a particularly talented storyteller (so obviously I do not refer to myself.) The storyteller accidentally choked to death on a bug which flew into his throat as he was to the reveal of his pose. Those men, having the most intriguing tale elude them, were driven mad. Convinced it was some malicious prankster they collected weapons and began slaughtering the village who, in turn, fought back in self-defense.

I am a little embraced to say that I myself got caught up in the incident, bashing heads with a stick, however it was such a good story and at such an inopportune time that I just couldn't help myself. I guess you had to be there.

Anyhow, that is the mindset in which Arrow was entangled. There could have been armed guards there who stabbed her to death, but she would continue dragging her own blood soaked corpse after the stranger just to find what in blazes was going on. She would have crammed her soul back into its broken shell until she caught glimpse and received a decent explanation before she raced to the afterlife with a sigh.

She hesitated at the hallway a moment. Her conscience tried to make some sort of comment of caution and wisdom, but it was so choked and out of practice that all that burped into her mind was That's the palace.

No way! How amazing is this? I have GOT to see what's going on.

Without caution she raced in like a child on Christmas morning.

[DaedalusDreams]

Dar nearly didn't hear the man at first, so enraptured was he with the design on the ceiling of the carriage. He had engraved constellations on metal before, of course, but never on the scale of a full carriage roof, and never to the level of detail he saw now. No matter if it was done with fabric and paint, the boy was in awe. However, he quickly pulled himself back down to earth as he noticed the carriage was occupied already. Seating as far away from the two of them as he could manage, he shook his head politely to the request for food.

His demeanor changed slightly but noticeably at the mention of chess. He sat up straighter and his eyes practically begged to see the chessboard. His voice, however, was still quiet and reserved when he replied to the question.

"I know the rules. I've seen some merchants play it in the town square often. I've only watched, though, never played." The last bit sounded rather defensive, like he was afraid of getting in trouble for knowing chess.