Post by Loendal on Nov 5, 2009 14:19:34 GMT -5
Found this sitting on my old Jumpdrive. I stopped playing Albion and DAOC in general before I could really get this character off the ground. We just couldn't find roleplayers in Albion, nor any major population to speak of!
“Why is it that two brothers simply cannot get along!? Ever and always do I see the two of you at odds over some quibble or another! I have had enough of it! What’s it about this time?”
Anuilden pointed to his brother, “He started it! He tried to break my concentration again!”
“I did NOT! You singed my robe… AGAIN, I might add!”
“Well I wouldn’t have burned your stupid robe if you hadn’t broken my concentration!”
“I was all the way on the other side of the room!”
“Were not!”
“I was too!”
“You were not! I had my protective runes two feet away like YOU never do and you were right near them! Look! You smudged one of them! “
“Don’t blame me if you can’t make a rune right! That was like that when I got here!”
“IT WAS NOT!”
“It most certainly was!”
“If it was then THAT’S why you got singed... you broke the runes!”
“I did not! So help me, Annie, I’m gonna…”
“DON’T CALL ME ANNIE!”
“Annie, annie annie… Annie annie annnnnnie…”
The heavy slam of an ancient grimoire falling flat to the floor interrupted the feud immediately and the furious features of their grandfather glared at them. His face slowly turned that shade of red which immediately indicates that the world is about to end if so much as another peep is heard from the glared-at parties.
“I…. have…. had…. ENOUGH… OF… THIS! Anuilden! To your room; NOW! Inuvial! Go help your mother in the garden; NOW! I want QUIET, do you understand me!? QUIET!” He shook a wrinkled finger down at the boys before him with all due authority. “I so much as hear a single whimper of complaint or argument for the rest of the night and I will see to it that NEITHER of you attend the Mage School for another year.. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?”
Two heads bowed low in submission to their grandfather and nearly tripped over one another in their haste to be out of the room. The two cast furtive glares at one another in accusation and Inuvial gave Anuilden a shove up the stairs before hurrying out towards the garden to help his mother with the afternoon’s planting. Anuilden gave his brother’s back an accusatory glare before glancing quickly back at the study and running up the flight of stairs two at a time.
Back in the study chamber, the old mage bent low to retrieve the grimoire he had thrown on the floor. He smiled softly to himself and placed the book back into the massive bookshelf with the care and gentleness with which one would handle a newborn child. His pliable hands gave the book a soft pat and it slipped back into its place, perfectly symmetrical with it’s hundreds of counterparts. A flicker of blue light flashed over the books and sealed them in their proper places.
The man turned and looked out the window to watch Inuvial at work in the garden alongside his mother and chuckled quietly.
“These two will be fine mages in their own right; they are coming along quite well. Would you not agree?”
A voice belonging to something unseen said “Yes indeed, I’m very proud of them. I didn’t mean to break the boy’s rune, but it is so very hard…”
“Not being able to help them, you mean?” said the old mage, gesturing with a hand towards the study door. It closed softly in a timely manner as the attempted stealthy footsteps of Anuilden plodded on the stairs, sneaking towards the pantry.
“Not being able to see them… I miss them greatly, father.”
“I do not doubt that in the least. It’s been nine years now, has it not? Anuilden, especially, has taken after you in his looks and mannerisms. It is as if I were seeing you as a boy again. It does my heart good.”
“And what of Inuvial? Who does he take after?”
“He seems to have taken after his mother more so then you, I’m afraid, but that’s no great burden either. He’s a fine looking young man; he will no doubt break hearts in a few years time”
In the center of the room, a voice sighed. The old mage let the curtains fall before the window and turned towards the sound, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Come now, do not worry so. In time they will be able to speak with you as I do, but it will take time. Where you have gone is far beyond the reaches of their studies for now, you know that.”
“It does not make it any easier. I can hear them, but they cannot hear me. I cannot see them, yet I can feel their presence. I know that right now, Inuvial is cutting his finger on the spade he dropped, and that Anuilden has taken three slices of bread from the pantry and squirreled them under his robe, a fourth one in his teeth in his haste to get back to his room!” As if in response, a muffled cry and thud of someone tripping up the stairs permeates the study door.
“I know all these things, yet cannot help them, cannot teach them, cannot be who I am supposed to be.” The voice took on an air of depression and regret. “You have raised your children, now you raise mine.”
“You worry too much over it… I am honored to do it. Your sons both drive forward in the Art, the same as you did. You could not have suspected your studies would do this to you. It was a simple accident, nothing more. The only real repercussion is that your wife has stopped her studies for fear of ending in the same predicament. She is all the boys have left for family now, and by that I mean no offense, my son.”
“What if this disaster of mine could be unmade? Surely you must have found something in your texts that can help me!”
“My magic reaches into the realm of the dead, my son, and you are not dead. My magic cannot reach you. You know this, we have discussed this already”
“You have one of the greatest collections of magical tomes in all of Avalon, and yet you still can find nothing akin to what has happened to me? Preposterous!”
“Ease your temper, my son; you know what that does to you… Yes, I have many tomes and they cover all manner of magical doings, but there are tomes that even I cannot yet comprehend! I am not omniscient!”
A cold swirling breeze began to whirl through the room, gentle at first, but slowly growing in intensity.
“You want to keep me from my sons... Don’t you? You wish me trapped here forever, so that you may never have to speak of me again… You want to forget me, don’t you!?”
The elder mage raised his hands towards the voice.
“Calm yourself, son… You know this is far from the truth! Be at peace, or you will suffer another collapse! Do not do this to yourself, I beg of you”
The breeze turns into a strong blue / black swirl and parchment begins to shift and fly around the room, collecting in a vortex forming in the center of the room. Outside, all has frozen still in the grips of time unmoving. Inuvial is locked in a grimace and whipping his hand away from the spade that cut his finger, a drop of blood suspended in mid-flight. Upstairs, the young Anuilden is locked in mid-bite of his stolen bread and a half-hearted attempt at a cantrip to toast it. Time has stood still as the vortex grows and spins greater and greater. An angry cry of pain echoes from within, growing in intensity and pitch until at last with a heavy thud and whuff of escaping air does the vortex collapse back upon itself; folding itself inward twice, thrice and again before vanishing in a bright pinpoint of white light which itself fades out.
“Curse the void and its hold upon you, my son…And curse the elves for their manipulation of it!” The old mage sighed as he picked up the stray parchment around the room. Outside, time has moved again, oblivious to the turmoil…
Later that week….
“I’m telling you, it happened again. Can’t you feel it? That weird kinda…” Anuilden struggled for the right words “tingly… thing.”
“The only thing tingly in here is your brain, Annie… Why don’t you just admit you can’t beat me? Every single time we’ve played, you have lost. It’s getting old!”
“I almost beat you last time… Don’t you go trying to deny it. I almost had you”
“Ah, but the point is, it was only almost… Doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t finish the job!” Iluvial gloated.
Anuilden frowned and summoned up the ball of light again, its luminescence glowing green about halfway between the two brothers, who sat at opposite sides of the room. Anuilden and Iluvial both began to concentrate and focus their will upon the sphere. As each trained their facilities into the sphere, it began to shake and waver back and forth as the brothers fought with the other’s mental strength. The ball began to float towards Iluvial who smiled as the ball drew closer and closer. A faint hum and crackle emanated from the light and the energies within began to arc and trace the air as it drew nearer and nearer.
“I’ve told you before, you can’t beat me…. ANNIE!”
With a heavy mental thrust and a grin of triumph, Iluvial sent the ball hurling back towards Anuilden, the energies trailing along behind the ball like a comet. Anuilden threw up his arms defensively and the ball stopped dead in its tracks a foot away from his face while Iluvial gaped in confusion. The momentary lapse of concentration was overcome by Anuilden and he gave the ball the harshest mental kick he could provide and it arced its way back towards Iluvial. The sphere lost its momentum just past the halfway point in it’s decent and again, Iluvial grinned.
“Told you Annie… You can’t be..”
The ball gave a sudden blue flash of light and rocketed down, clobbering Iluvial in the chest and sending him sprawling against the wall with the wind knocked out of him. A slight green discharge arced over his body as the ball of light winked out.
Anuilden sat awestruck. He hadn’t focused his concentration since the ball had reached its apex… It should have dropped and gone out; and there was that tingle again…
Somewhere nearby, a nearly inaudible voice spoke “Never could I stand a bully…”
Reral sighed and moved away as Anuilden jumped up and ran towards his brother, panic beginning to settle in as the heavy thud of their grandfather’s boots began to make their way up the stairs. The door flung open quickly and he looked curiously into the room, his gaze settling on Reral, though the man had no physical form to look upon. A look of disapproval crossed his features and Reral felt the old pang of childhood scolding creep into his incorporeal self. Grandfather spent no less then half a breath communicating his anger before turning to the matter at hand.
“What happened Anuilden? Is he alright?”
“I’m * cough * fine, grandfather… I’m fine.. Will you get off me!?” He gave Anuilden’s supporting hands a shove away and pulled himself to his feet, smoothing down the brown hair that was still standing slightly upright from the static.
“I just lost my concentration for a minute, nothing more.”
“How many times have I told you two not to toy with the sphere? That is a dangerous enchantment, saved for the Wizards alone and not for the novice to dabble with.”
“It’s not that big a deal, grandfather… The boys in school challenge one another all the time!” snapped Iluvial
“That doesn’t make it right, now does it? Now go on... Get yourself cleaned up and ready for the evening meal. We have guests coming this evening.”
“Guests? Who’s coming, grandfather?” asked a curious Anuilden as he continued to help Iluvial to his feet, despite the protests.
Grandfather gave a furtive glance towards Reral again, quickly looking back to Anuilden. He gave the boy a smile and patted his shoulders.
“Someone you will love to meet… The Archmage has come to meet with me for some detailed studies I’m conducting into Elven magic.”
“Elven magic? How would the Archmage know anything about their nature magic?”
“The Archmage is one of the highest of our order. Word around the academy is that he was a direct pupil of Merlin himself! Can you believe that?”
“Grandfather… Merlin’s been gone for ages now… He would have to be ancient and withered to have even studied at the third tier of succession from Merlin, let alone Merlin himself!”
“Perhaps you are right… Unless of course”, he paused for dramatic effect, “one can alter time itself to your bidding…”
Anuilden’s face lit up and he ran off to get washed up, followed by a stomping, grumpy Iluvial. Grandfather turned and looked over his shoulder towards Reral with a sad expression on his face. “If there is anything that can be known, he may be the one to know it…” He followed his grandsons out and quietly closed the door behind him.
And so to Dinner…
As the boys helped to prepare the table, the door resounded with a heavy knock. Grandfather quickly motioned to the boys to take their places behind him, with their Mother between them. It was only proper to greet a guest in such a fashion, especially one of such high regard as The Archmage. When all was in readiness, Grandfather waved a hand and gentle music filled the air, another wave and the door swung open slowly, revealing a grizzled old man who made Grandfather look to be only in the Summer years of his life. He held onto his peeked cap as he stepped through the portal and smiled.
“It is good to see you again, Anthony! I hope to find all well for you and yours?”
Grandfather smiled and inclined his head respectfully to the Archmage.
“Yes Master, all is well indeed. Do come in, take a seat.”
The Archmage chuckled and set his hat atop the rack near the door.
“Oh no more of this Master nonsense, you have come full into your own and you have no need to call this old man your master any longer. I take it these are Reral’s sons, yes?”
Both boys straightened and smiled up to the senior mage, nodding politely.
“Indeed they are, the older is Iluvial on the left and this is his brother, Anuilden. They have been studying hard and hope to make the Academy by year’s end”
“Really now?” The archmage said as he took a seat at the table and took up a roll from the basket. “What do you study, young ones?”
Anuilden began to speak but Iluvial quickly stepped forward and cut him off, speaking rapidly “I intend to learn Sorcery, it’s been my specialty for the past few months and I think I’ll do a good job in the wars and for Albion with the extra training. The instructors at school are always mentioning it, ‘He’s got a knack’ they say, so I figure why not? If I have a knack, I might as well use it right? I can learn a lot more once I get to the Academy and really start to get down to it. Once I get…” The Archmage quickly raised a hand with a smile “Yes yes.. Indeed, you are most keen on it, but tell me, do you know the practice of ‘The Wall’ yet?”
“The wall? I don’t understand.”
“It’s the only way Sorcerers keep themselves from damaging their own minds while in the Academy. With that much mental energy flowing about constantly, there are often times when the students will stun and mesmerize one another purely out of concentrated focus on the subject. That’s why they teach you the wall first and foremost, you really must learn it. Mental prowess alone isn’t enough to help when there are 10 to 20 students all focusing their will upon it.”
“I can learn it! I think I heard something about that already. I read it in a book somewhere in the library at school. I was over in the older section, where they keep the really good books and stuff that the ancients all kept record of. Real magic... Not the boyish stuff they teach right now in the school, I want to get to the academy and start getting into the good stuff! This other stuff is all child’s play and usel..”
He froze in mid-sentence and stared blindly at the wall as The Archmage chuckled softly. “First the wall, then the older texts…Eh?” He blinked his eyes once and withdrew the effect from Iluvial who frowned and seemed appropriately culled.
The Archmage turned to Anuilden with a kind smile playing on his face.
“And what of you, young Anuilden? What are your intentions?”
Anuilden shifted nervously. He looked up to the old mage and blushed in embarrassment “I really haven’t decided yet, to be honest. I like fire magic, but earth magic is good too. I thought perhaps something would show me which way I should go eventually. I think Wizardry is more my tastes. The raw elements make sense to me.”
“Then why not an Elementalist? Control the creatures of the planes at a whim?”
Anuilden thought for a moment, “Well… Because… um… The elements in their natural form are neat, but I think it’s damaging to pull that much energy from those planes of existence for only a few moments at a time, and so rapidly. At least Wizards only draw upon the powers that linger here, those other places aren’t really ‘ours’ to mess with… are they?”
The Archmage considered this for a moment. “All planes are connected, one way or another, but I don’t think we Albions can truly say we ‘own’ any of them. Even the plane we actually live upon isn’t really ours. We simply borrow it for a while. An interesting observation, young man. Very interesting indeed.” He finished off his roll and looked back to Grandfather with a smile
“Now then… What do you plan to feed this old man tonight, eh?”
The dinner went on without much incident. Mother served up a fine meal of pheasant and potatoes, with a special gravy she created from an old family recipe. Talks of the war and of things at the Academy were discussed at length between the older magi. It wouldn’t be proper for the children to interrupt the discussion, so Iluvial soon became bored. Anuilden on the other hand sat quietly and listened to the old men speak, taking in bits and pieces of things he could understand and pondering over the things he didn’t understand. The conversation wandered from the Academy to the Frontierlands to the other realms’ magic. When the subject of Mentalism came up, Iluvial reached over and poked Anuilden.
“That’s Hibernian magic, Mentalism. They can make all kinds of illusions. In the wars they create the illusion of pain so well that people have been known to die from it before. That’s good stuff, that is. That’s powerful.”
“Are we able to learn it?” Anuilden whispered back
“Probably not, it’s pagan. Even if Merlin wasn’t very close to the Church, they would still disallow it. It’s foreign and forbidden. I’ve heard some of the other students talking about learning it though, so there’s got to be some way.”
“And what would you do with it, young man?” spoke The Archmage
Both children jumped in fright and blushed a deep shade of red.
“I’m sorry Master” stammered a surprised Iluvial, “I really thought I was whispering, I didn’t mean to interrupt”.
“Oh you were, don’t worry. It’s an old habit of mine, eavesdropping on other’s conversations from afar. I suppose I owe you an apology of sorts. But as for Hibernian magic, you don’t need to learn it. It’s dangerous toying with other realms’ capabilities. It can lead to insanity or worse. I’ve seen it before, it’s not pleasant.”
Anuilden scratched his ear; the tingle was back and strong.
Both The Archmage and Grandfather sat up and looked around the room, having felt the same presence. Grandfather nodded in the direction of the study and spoke something softly to the Archmage, motioning in that direction. They both got to their feet and headed to the study, leaving the three others at the table in confusion. The Archmage suddenly stiffened and grunted for a moment before looking at Grandfather in disbelief. They hurried their pace and closed the door behind them once arriving at the study.
“Insanity!? This is hardly insanity! This is torture, this is… “ fumed Reral, a cold breeze beginning to stir the dining hall. Reral stomped his way to the study, pushing not so much past as through the elder magi on his way. He stood cross-armed in the middle of the room, glaring at the doorway as the other two arrived.
“Amazing! I’ve never felt something like that before!” said the Archmage “It had a mingle of magics in it.. What did you say had happened?” He looked over to Grandfather with a look of utter curiosity on his face
“He’s talking about ME, master… “ said Reral and the cold breeze picked up within the study again. The Archmage looked in Reral’s general direction, as one looking through fog, seeking something he did not see.
“It’s my son, Reral. He was doing some experimentation with foreign magics and got caught up in something in-between. He is alive, but cannot be reached; he is trapped, but cannot see any walls. I have slowly learned to hear him and to see him, with some concentration. This is what I wanted to speak with you about, to see if there might be something one can do for his situation.”
“He can hear us, right now?”
“Of course I can, you old fool!” The wind picked up again, ruffling the robes the elder magi wore gently
“He says Yes”, said Grandfather, shooting a quick, angry glance in Reral’s direction.
“Good, ask him if he has ever felt bent or twisted without understanding why”
“Every time I lose my temper…”
“Yes, on occasion when he grows angry, he seems to sort of… collapse… for lack of a better word.”
“And there is nothing within the mind or body that can be traced to this collapse?”
“Of course not! Don’t you think I’d thought of that already?! I’m no fool”
“He says no”, said Grandfather, “And you mind your manners, Reral.. Remember to whom you speak!”
“No no, it’s quite alright, I assure you. It must be frustrating to him. If it’s nothing mental or physical, then it must be the absence of both. It sounds like the void; somehow he has become trapped within the very essence of nothingness.”
“Can he please be a BIT vaguer, perhaps?!” The papers on Grandfather’s desk shifted and began to swirl, some of the larger sealed scrolls lifted and began the circular flight as well.
“No doubt he is stuck between worlds, between existence and eternity. Why rage causes such an affect, I do not know.” He reached up and caught a bone scroll case that had just slipped into the vortex, tapping his chin thoughtfully with it as he watched the area where the vortex began to form.
“This is one of his collapses, I trust?” He asked Grandfather
“Yes, master, it is. This embodiment grows and even stranger still is the affect it has outside of its influence... Reral, can you help to demonstrate this?”
“Am I some side show to be gawked at now?” snapped Reral, and the vortex power grew stronger still.
“Yes, for the time being, you are.” quipped the Archmage with a smirk. He was answered by an angry muttering and the vortex grew in power. Strong enough to lift books from their places now, the Archmage ducked under one small tome as it flew nearby slamming into the door.
Anuilden heard the thud and came rushing over to see if something had gone wrong and opened the door, the tingle he felt earlier was overpowering.
The vortex grew again and the room was a swirl of activity, when the trio heard the door open, they all turned to look and saw the strange time freeze associated with Reral’s anger and the door was opened a slight crack, a young hand holding the knob. With a painful gasp, the vortex collapsed back upon itself and vanished in its customary blink of bright light.
Anuilden looked into the room and saw nothing amiss save some papers dropped around the room. Both Grandfather and the Archmage had a sort of hazy blur over their bodies, as if a painting was wiped horizontally before it was completely dry and in an instant it was gone. The Archmage was sitting at the desk and Grandfather was over by the window, and Anuilden couldn’t recall seeing them move to get there.
“Why is it that two brothers simply cannot get along!? Ever and always do I see the two of you at odds over some quibble or another! I have had enough of it! What’s it about this time?”
Anuilden pointed to his brother, “He started it! He tried to break my concentration again!”
“I did NOT! You singed my robe… AGAIN, I might add!”
“Well I wouldn’t have burned your stupid robe if you hadn’t broken my concentration!”
“I was all the way on the other side of the room!”
“Were not!”
“I was too!”
“You were not! I had my protective runes two feet away like YOU never do and you were right near them! Look! You smudged one of them! “
“Don’t blame me if you can’t make a rune right! That was like that when I got here!”
“IT WAS NOT!”
“It most certainly was!”
“If it was then THAT’S why you got singed... you broke the runes!”
“I did not! So help me, Annie, I’m gonna…”
“DON’T CALL ME ANNIE!”
“Annie, annie annie… Annie annie annnnnnie…”
The heavy slam of an ancient grimoire falling flat to the floor interrupted the feud immediately and the furious features of their grandfather glared at them. His face slowly turned that shade of red which immediately indicates that the world is about to end if so much as another peep is heard from the glared-at parties.
“I…. have…. had…. ENOUGH… OF… THIS! Anuilden! To your room; NOW! Inuvial! Go help your mother in the garden; NOW! I want QUIET, do you understand me!? QUIET!” He shook a wrinkled finger down at the boys before him with all due authority. “I so much as hear a single whimper of complaint or argument for the rest of the night and I will see to it that NEITHER of you attend the Mage School for another year.. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!?”
Two heads bowed low in submission to their grandfather and nearly tripped over one another in their haste to be out of the room. The two cast furtive glares at one another in accusation and Inuvial gave Anuilden a shove up the stairs before hurrying out towards the garden to help his mother with the afternoon’s planting. Anuilden gave his brother’s back an accusatory glare before glancing quickly back at the study and running up the flight of stairs two at a time.
Back in the study chamber, the old mage bent low to retrieve the grimoire he had thrown on the floor. He smiled softly to himself and placed the book back into the massive bookshelf with the care and gentleness with which one would handle a newborn child. His pliable hands gave the book a soft pat and it slipped back into its place, perfectly symmetrical with it’s hundreds of counterparts. A flicker of blue light flashed over the books and sealed them in their proper places.
The man turned and looked out the window to watch Inuvial at work in the garden alongside his mother and chuckled quietly.
“These two will be fine mages in their own right; they are coming along quite well. Would you not agree?”
A voice belonging to something unseen said “Yes indeed, I’m very proud of them. I didn’t mean to break the boy’s rune, but it is so very hard…”
“Not being able to help them, you mean?” said the old mage, gesturing with a hand towards the study door. It closed softly in a timely manner as the attempted stealthy footsteps of Anuilden plodded on the stairs, sneaking towards the pantry.
“Not being able to see them… I miss them greatly, father.”
“I do not doubt that in the least. It’s been nine years now, has it not? Anuilden, especially, has taken after you in his looks and mannerisms. It is as if I were seeing you as a boy again. It does my heart good.”
“And what of Inuvial? Who does he take after?”
“He seems to have taken after his mother more so then you, I’m afraid, but that’s no great burden either. He’s a fine looking young man; he will no doubt break hearts in a few years time”
In the center of the room, a voice sighed. The old mage let the curtains fall before the window and turned towards the sound, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Come now, do not worry so. In time they will be able to speak with you as I do, but it will take time. Where you have gone is far beyond the reaches of their studies for now, you know that.”
“It does not make it any easier. I can hear them, but they cannot hear me. I cannot see them, yet I can feel their presence. I know that right now, Inuvial is cutting his finger on the spade he dropped, and that Anuilden has taken three slices of bread from the pantry and squirreled them under his robe, a fourth one in his teeth in his haste to get back to his room!” As if in response, a muffled cry and thud of someone tripping up the stairs permeates the study door.
“I know all these things, yet cannot help them, cannot teach them, cannot be who I am supposed to be.” The voice took on an air of depression and regret. “You have raised your children, now you raise mine.”
“You worry too much over it… I am honored to do it. Your sons both drive forward in the Art, the same as you did. You could not have suspected your studies would do this to you. It was a simple accident, nothing more. The only real repercussion is that your wife has stopped her studies for fear of ending in the same predicament. She is all the boys have left for family now, and by that I mean no offense, my son.”
“What if this disaster of mine could be unmade? Surely you must have found something in your texts that can help me!”
“My magic reaches into the realm of the dead, my son, and you are not dead. My magic cannot reach you. You know this, we have discussed this already”
“You have one of the greatest collections of magical tomes in all of Avalon, and yet you still can find nothing akin to what has happened to me? Preposterous!”
“Ease your temper, my son; you know what that does to you… Yes, I have many tomes and they cover all manner of magical doings, but there are tomes that even I cannot yet comprehend! I am not omniscient!”
A cold swirling breeze began to whirl through the room, gentle at first, but slowly growing in intensity.
“You want to keep me from my sons... Don’t you? You wish me trapped here forever, so that you may never have to speak of me again… You want to forget me, don’t you!?”
The elder mage raised his hands towards the voice.
“Calm yourself, son… You know this is far from the truth! Be at peace, or you will suffer another collapse! Do not do this to yourself, I beg of you”
The breeze turns into a strong blue / black swirl and parchment begins to shift and fly around the room, collecting in a vortex forming in the center of the room. Outside, all has frozen still in the grips of time unmoving. Inuvial is locked in a grimace and whipping his hand away from the spade that cut his finger, a drop of blood suspended in mid-flight. Upstairs, the young Anuilden is locked in mid-bite of his stolen bread and a half-hearted attempt at a cantrip to toast it. Time has stood still as the vortex grows and spins greater and greater. An angry cry of pain echoes from within, growing in intensity and pitch until at last with a heavy thud and whuff of escaping air does the vortex collapse back upon itself; folding itself inward twice, thrice and again before vanishing in a bright pinpoint of white light which itself fades out.
“Curse the void and its hold upon you, my son…And curse the elves for their manipulation of it!” The old mage sighed as he picked up the stray parchment around the room. Outside, time has moved again, oblivious to the turmoil…
Later that week….
“I’m telling you, it happened again. Can’t you feel it? That weird kinda…” Anuilden struggled for the right words “tingly… thing.”
“The only thing tingly in here is your brain, Annie… Why don’t you just admit you can’t beat me? Every single time we’ve played, you have lost. It’s getting old!”
“I almost beat you last time… Don’t you go trying to deny it. I almost had you”
“Ah, but the point is, it was only almost… Doesn’t mean a thing if you can’t finish the job!” Iluvial gloated.
Anuilden frowned and summoned up the ball of light again, its luminescence glowing green about halfway between the two brothers, who sat at opposite sides of the room. Anuilden and Iluvial both began to concentrate and focus their will upon the sphere. As each trained their facilities into the sphere, it began to shake and waver back and forth as the brothers fought with the other’s mental strength. The ball began to float towards Iluvial who smiled as the ball drew closer and closer. A faint hum and crackle emanated from the light and the energies within began to arc and trace the air as it drew nearer and nearer.
“I’ve told you before, you can’t beat me…. ANNIE!”
With a heavy mental thrust and a grin of triumph, Iluvial sent the ball hurling back towards Anuilden, the energies trailing along behind the ball like a comet. Anuilden threw up his arms defensively and the ball stopped dead in its tracks a foot away from his face while Iluvial gaped in confusion. The momentary lapse of concentration was overcome by Anuilden and he gave the ball the harshest mental kick he could provide and it arced its way back towards Iluvial. The sphere lost its momentum just past the halfway point in it’s decent and again, Iluvial grinned.
“Told you Annie… You can’t be..”
The ball gave a sudden blue flash of light and rocketed down, clobbering Iluvial in the chest and sending him sprawling against the wall with the wind knocked out of him. A slight green discharge arced over his body as the ball of light winked out.
Anuilden sat awestruck. He hadn’t focused his concentration since the ball had reached its apex… It should have dropped and gone out; and there was that tingle again…
Somewhere nearby, a nearly inaudible voice spoke “Never could I stand a bully…”
Reral sighed and moved away as Anuilden jumped up and ran towards his brother, panic beginning to settle in as the heavy thud of their grandfather’s boots began to make their way up the stairs. The door flung open quickly and he looked curiously into the room, his gaze settling on Reral, though the man had no physical form to look upon. A look of disapproval crossed his features and Reral felt the old pang of childhood scolding creep into his incorporeal self. Grandfather spent no less then half a breath communicating his anger before turning to the matter at hand.
“What happened Anuilden? Is he alright?”
“I’m * cough * fine, grandfather… I’m fine.. Will you get off me!?” He gave Anuilden’s supporting hands a shove away and pulled himself to his feet, smoothing down the brown hair that was still standing slightly upright from the static.
“I just lost my concentration for a minute, nothing more.”
“How many times have I told you two not to toy with the sphere? That is a dangerous enchantment, saved for the Wizards alone and not for the novice to dabble with.”
“It’s not that big a deal, grandfather… The boys in school challenge one another all the time!” snapped Iluvial
“That doesn’t make it right, now does it? Now go on... Get yourself cleaned up and ready for the evening meal. We have guests coming this evening.”
“Guests? Who’s coming, grandfather?” asked a curious Anuilden as he continued to help Iluvial to his feet, despite the protests.
Grandfather gave a furtive glance towards Reral again, quickly looking back to Anuilden. He gave the boy a smile and patted his shoulders.
“Someone you will love to meet… The Archmage has come to meet with me for some detailed studies I’m conducting into Elven magic.”
“Elven magic? How would the Archmage know anything about their nature magic?”
“The Archmage is one of the highest of our order. Word around the academy is that he was a direct pupil of Merlin himself! Can you believe that?”
“Grandfather… Merlin’s been gone for ages now… He would have to be ancient and withered to have even studied at the third tier of succession from Merlin, let alone Merlin himself!”
“Perhaps you are right… Unless of course”, he paused for dramatic effect, “one can alter time itself to your bidding…”
Anuilden’s face lit up and he ran off to get washed up, followed by a stomping, grumpy Iluvial. Grandfather turned and looked over his shoulder towards Reral with a sad expression on his face. “If there is anything that can be known, he may be the one to know it…” He followed his grandsons out and quietly closed the door behind him.
And so to Dinner…
As the boys helped to prepare the table, the door resounded with a heavy knock. Grandfather quickly motioned to the boys to take their places behind him, with their Mother between them. It was only proper to greet a guest in such a fashion, especially one of such high regard as The Archmage. When all was in readiness, Grandfather waved a hand and gentle music filled the air, another wave and the door swung open slowly, revealing a grizzled old man who made Grandfather look to be only in the Summer years of his life. He held onto his peeked cap as he stepped through the portal and smiled.
“It is good to see you again, Anthony! I hope to find all well for you and yours?”
Grandfather smiled and inclined his head respectfully to the Archmage.
“Yes Master, all is well indeed. Do come in, take a seat.”
The Archmage chuckled and set his hat atop the rack near the door.
“Oh no more of this Master nonsense, you have come full into your own and you have no need to call this old man your master any longer. I take it these are Reral’s sons, yes?”
Both boys straightened and smiled up to the senior mage, nodding politely.
“Indeed they are, the older is Iluvial on the left and this is his brother, Anuilden. They have been studying hard and hope to make the Academy by year’s end”
“Really now?” The archmage said as he took a seat at the table and took up a roll from the basket. “What do you study, young ones?”
Anuilden began to speak but Iluvial quickly stepped forward and cut him off, speaking rapidly “I intend to learn Sorcery, it’s been my specialty for the past few months and I think I’ll do a good job in the wars and for Albion with the extra training. The instructors at school are always mentioning it, ‘He’s got a knack’ they say, so I figure why not? If I have a knack, I might as well use it right? I can learn a lot more once I get to the Academy and really start to get down to it. Once I get…” The Archmage quickly raised a hand with a smile “Yes yes.. Indeed, you are most keen on it, but tell me, do you know the practice of ‘The Wall’ yet?”
“The wall? I don’t understand.”
“It’s the only way Sorcerers keep themselves from damaging their own minds while in the Academy. With that much mental energy flowing about constantly, there are often times when the students will stun and mesmerize one another purely out of concentrated focus on the subject. That’s why they teach you the wall first and foremost, you really must learn it. Mental prowess alone isn’t enough to help when there are 10 to 20 students all focusing their will upon it.”
“I can learn it! I think I heard something about that already. I read it in a book somewhere in the library at school. I was over in the older section, where they keep the really good books and stuff that the ancients all kept record of. Real magic... Not the boyish stuff they teach right now in the school, I want to get to the academy and start getting into the good stuff! This other stuff is all child’s play and usel..”
He froze in mid-sentence and stared blindly at the wall as The Archmage chuckled softly. “First the wall, then the older texts…Eh?” He blinked his eyes once and withdrew the effect from Iluvial who frowned and seemed appropriately culled.
The Archmage turned to Anuilden with a kind smile playing on his face.
“And what of you, young Anuilden? What are your intentions?”
Anuilden shifted nervously. He looked up to the old mage and blushed in embarrassment “I really haven’t decided yet, to be honest. I like fire magic, but earth magic is good too. I thought perhaps something would show me which way I should go eventually. I think Wizardry is more my tastes. The raw elements make sense to me.”
“Then why not an Elementalist? Control the creatures of the planes at a whim?”
Anuilden thought for a moment, “Well… Because… um… The elements in their natural form are neat, but I think it’s damaging to pull that much energy from those planes of existence for only a few moments at a time, and so rapidly. At least Wizards only draw upon the powers that linger here, those other places aren’t really ‘ours’ to mess with… are they?”
The Archmage considered this for a moment. “All planes are connected, one way or another, but I don’t think we Albions can truly say we ‘own’ any of them. Even the plane we actually live upon isn’t really ours. We simply borrow it for a while. An interesting observation, young man. Very interesting indeed.” He finished off his roll and looked back to Grandfather with a smile
“Now then… What do you plan to feed this old man tonight, eh?”
The dinner went on without much incident. Mother served up a fine meal of pheasant and potatoes, with a special gravy she created from an old family recipe. Talks of the war and of things at the Academy were discussed at length between the older magi. It wouldn’t be proper for the children to interrupt the discussion, so Iluvial soon became bored. Anuilden on the other hand sat quietly and listened to the old men speak, taking in bits and pieces of things he could understand and pondering over the things he didn’t understand. The conversation wandered from the Academy to the Frontierlands to the other realms’ magic. When the subject of Mentalism came up, Iluvial reached over and poked Anuilden.
“That’s Hibernian magic, Mentalism. They can make all kinds of illusions. In the wars they create the illusion of pain so well that people have been known to die from it before. That’s good stuff, that is. That’s powerful.”
“Are we able to learn it?” Anuilden whispered back
“Probably not, it’s pagan. Even if Merlin wasn’t very close to the Church, they would still disallow it. It’s foreign and forbidden. I’ve heard some of the other students talking about learning it though, so there’s got to be some way.”
“And what would you do with it, young man?” spoke The Archmage
Both children jumped in fright and blushed a deep shade of red.
“I’m sorry Master” stammered a surprised Iluvial, “I really thought I was whispering, I didn’t mean to interrupt”.
“Oh you were, don’t worry. It’s an old habit of mine, eavesdropping on other’s conversations from afar. I suppose I owe you an apology of sorts. But as for Hibernian magic, you don’t need to learn it. It’s dangerous toying with other realms’ capabilities. It can lead to insanity or worse. I’ve seen it before, it’s not pleasant.”
Anuilden scratched his ear; the tingle was back and strong.
Both The Archmage and Grandfather sat up and looked around the room, having felt the same presence. Grandfather nodded in the direction of the study and spoke something softly to the Archmage, motioning in that direction. They both got to their feet and headed to the study, leaving the three others at the table in confusion. The Archmage suddenly stiffened and grunted for a moment before looking at Grandfather in disbelief. They hurried their pace and closed the door behind them once arriving at the study.
“Insanity!? This is hardly insanity! This is torture, this is… “ fumed Reral, a cold breeze beginning to stir the dining hall. Reral stomped his way to the study, pushing not so much past as through the elder magi on his way. He stood cross-armed in the middle of the room, glaring at the doorway as the other two arrived.
“Amazing! I’ve never felt something like that before!” said the Archmage “It had a mingle of magics in it.. What did you say had happened?” He looked over to Grandfather with a look of utter curiosity on his face
“He’s talking about ME, master… “ said Reral and the cold breeze picked up within the study again. The Archmage looked in Reral’s general direction, as one looking through fog, seeking something he did not see.
“It’s my son, Reral. He was doing some experimentation with foreign magics and got caught up in something in-between. He is alive, but cannot be reached; he is trapped, but cannot see any walls. I have slowly learned to hear him and to see him, with some concentration. This is what I wanted to speak with you about, to see if there might be something one can do for his situation.”
“He can hear us, right now?”
“Of course I can, you old fool!” The wind picked up again, ruffling the robes the elder magi wore gently
“He says Yes”, said Grandfather, shooting a quick, angry glance in Reral’s direction.
“Good, ask him if he has ever felt bent or twisted without understanding why”
“Every time I lose my temper…”
“Yes, on occasion when he grows angry, he seems to sort of… collapse… for lack of a better word.”
“And there is nothing within the mind or body that can be traced to this collapse?”
“Of course not! Don’t you think I’d thought of that already?! I’m no fool”
“He says no”, said Grandfather, “And you mind your manners, Reral.. Remember to whom you speak!”
“No no, it’s quite alright, I assure you. It must be frustrating to him. If it’s nothing mental or physical, then it must be the absence of both. It sounds like the void; somehow he has become trapped within the very essence of nothingness.”
“Can he please be a BIT vaguer, perhaps?!” The papers on Grandfather’s desk shifted and began to swirl, some of the larger sealed scrolls lifted and began the circular flight as well.
“No doubt he is stuck between worlds, between existence and eternity. Why rage causes such an affect, I do not know.” He reached up and caught a bone scroll case that had just slipped into the vortex, tapping his chin thoughtfully with it as he watched the area where the vortex began to form.
“This is one of his collapses, I trust?” He asked Grandfather
“Yes, master, it is. This embodiment grows and even stranger still is the affect it has outside of its influence... Reral, can you help to demonstrate this?”
“Am I some side show to be gawked at now?” snapped Reral, and the vortex power grew stronger still.
“Yes, for the time being, you are.” quipped the Archmage with a smirk. He was answered by an angry muttering and the vortex grew in power. Strong enough to lift books from their places now, the Archmage ducked under one small tome as it flew nearby slamming into the door.
Anuilden heard the thud and came rushing over to see if something had gone wrong and opened the door, the tingle he felt earlier was overpowering.
The vortex grew again and the room was a swirl of activity, when the trio heard the door open, they all turned to look and saw the strange time freeze associated with Reral’s anger and the door was opened a slight crack, a young hand holding the knob. With a painful gasp, the vortex collapsed back upon itself and vanished in its customary blink of bright light.
Anuilden looked into the room and saw nothing amiss save some papers dropped around the room. Both Grandfather and the Archmage had a sort of hazy blur over their bodies, as if a painting was wiped horizontally before it was completely dry and in an instant it was gone. The Archmage was sitting at the desk and Grandfather was over by the window, and Anuilden couldn’t recall seeing them move to get there.