Ferrin Astra
Mors Vincent Omni
Finale
Part 1, Part 2
Ferrin ran through the slowly emptying city. He heard a voice broadcasted, advising everyone in the city to clear out, as the final match of the Grand Magic Games was now beginning.
The city itself would be the battleground.
He paid it no head, other then silently thanking whatever gods existed that with the city empty, he could sprint at full speed.
And sprint he did. He had developed a liking for running, and did so as a hobby of sorts. Plus, it would come in handy if some slobbering monstrosity from the pits of hell came calling or if Piston got mad at him again. With his long stride and lean frame, he could really cover ground. He fairly flew down the empty street, his coat flapping behind him. He focused on the buildings, trying to remember the way to where he had found the strange magic earlier, and keeping his magical senses attuned, despite the headache that was threatening to creep up.
When he came upon it, he was almost missed it. That unmistakable clear colorless magic. He skidded to a stop and retraced his steps until he standing right on top of it.
"Here you are." He said, panting slightly, though more from adrenaline then exertion. He walked in a circle, looking for any obvious signs. He wanted to gogogo, and rush off screaming, but despite his intense sense of urgency, he forced himself to slow down and focus.
If he was wrong, he feared that he wouldn't have a second chance.
He paced out the magic signature's length, noting the slight curve. Frowning, he rifled through his pockets.
"I know I have it somewhere...Ah-ha" He came out with a chunk of chalk. Bending over, he traced a line over the sensation of magic. He stood up, noting the direction and degree of the curve. He glanced at the sun, ignoring the final warning to clear the town for the games. He then peered down the street. He gauged angles and directions, before letting out a sound of disgust.
"Can not see a dammed thing down here." He moved to a side of the street, and turned to a building. He gathered Aether magic to enhance his body, took a running start and let out a shout as he leapt about two stories into the air. However, without much room to run, he came up a bit short, and had to grab the edge of the roof with his Gauntlet to pull himself up. Once there, he found the magic again, faint now that that there was some distance between him and the ground, and again traced the sensation. He idly wondered what someone would think when they found these random markings.
"Thus, do I strike a blow for vandalists everywhere." He muttered.
Standing back, Ferrin found that in addition to the slightly curved line that ran east to west, there was one running north to south. Like a spoke on a wheel. He drew in a breath, and slowly let it out again.
"Hell's Bells, it is, as I feared, a magic circle." He breathed. He surveyed the city that sprawled out before him.
"A really big magic circle." You do not put something like this up for shits and giggles. This is a powerful magic and dangerous magic. There are very few beneficial things you could do with something like this--but a whole host of malefic things. He ruminated.
The circle beneath him suddenly began to hum, like a live wire. Ferrin's eyes widened.
"The circle has been activated." He realized. Time was running out. Ferrin took of running again. From the shape of the circle he could follow the spoke he was on to the center, where the caster was.
And confront them.
He made good time as he ran, this time forsaking the streets to run and jump from building to building. Along the way, he put a few more piece of the puzzle he faced together. The timing of the circle's activation was perfect. While inactive, in a place as seeped in magic as Crocus, it would not draw much attention, except to the most sensitive of mages. Even then, they would not think of it as more than an oddity, the only reason he had uncovered the truth was because of the advice he had received from...well, nevermind. Ferrin cut off that train of thought. Once activated, it was much more noticeable, but with the final battle of the Grand Magic Games, the city would be empty, and few the wizards remaining in it would have more important things to worry about.
The circle brought him near the tall spire of rock, on which the Arena crowned. He stopped in its shadow and peered upwards. According to the old books he had read, the Grand Magic Games was once a very different event, called The Dragon King Festival. Details were scarce, but from what he could glean, coupled with prior knowledge, he knew that somewhere, deep below the earth, there lay a graveyard of dragons.
And now, among them, a necromancer of considerable power.
With a Magic Circle the size of a city centered on it.
"And here I was hoping for a nice vacation." Ferrin remarked, the irony thick in his words.
He had a problem though. He had no way down. Acutely aware that time was not in his side, he searched the area for an opening but no dark tunnels with a flashing neon sign, saying 'Something evil lurks here!' presented itself. With the simplest method ruled out, Ferrin had to get creative. He peeled off his glove, bent down, and laid his hand on the cold earth. He drew in his magic, and with a muttered spell, sent vibrations down through the rock, a trick taught to him by a rather irascible, and blind Sound wizard. Through the differences in frequency, speed, and pitch, one could tell the exact dimensions and make-up of any kind of matter, solid, liquid, even gas by memorizing the characteristics of the vibrations. Ferrin wasn't that good, but detecting tunnels in solid rock was child's play. He surprised to find a relatively shallow one, about five meters down.
"Now, how to get there..." He wondered aloud. He brieflyconsidered blasting a hole, but he immediately discarded the idea. [color=silver]
Too noticeable and exhausting. He thought.
What if I--Damn it, I do not have time for this! Angrily he pointed one claw-like metal finger at the earth.
"Lapis, aperio!" He shouted. With the sound of stone grinding against stone, a section of the ground shook and
shifted, flowing to each side like water. In moments, there was a dark hole in the earth, and a narrow shaft that lead to the tunnel. Ferrin sagged slightly at the effort it took to move that much stone. He heard a dull roar, and he turned in the direction of the noise. He saw a tower of stone in the distance that was not there before, a tower supported by the winds. His eyebrows went up as he considered the amount of power and focus that it would take to accomplish such a feat. But he had no time to admire someone else's handiwork. He turned to the hole in the earth.
"Let the games begin." He said.
And he leapt and fell though the hole into pitch darkness.
.jpg)
