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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 10, 2015 19:00:40 GMT
((From Avalendor > The Arcane Colleges > The Rainbow Tower > A Court of Hot Air))
One hour and fifteen minutes prior to student's suppertime, a darkly hooded figure stood outside the ornate double doors leading to the private dining hall of the Council of Grand Mages. This figure stood there, arms at his sides and staring forward for a few moments. Earlier today, he was something of a prisoner at the Rainbow Tower. Not uncomfortably so by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to know that he didn't exactly fit in. He lived a blessed life, filled with all the books he could read and truly wanting for nothing, but it came at the cost of being considered a monster and a freak by his peers and knowing always that he was being watched by his superiors. His confinement here was due to a great accident in his past, caused by his own greed for knowledge. Since then he'd been treated more like hazardous material than a human being. The few people he might call 'friend' were really only interested in him as a subject of study, a fact which he made no attempt to ignore.
And yet, here he was. Invited by the Empress herself to dine in the hall reserved only for the greatest people in the nation. He had been tasked with an incredible destiny that could shape the face of the world in the coming days. Atticus Daegal, the Fallen, the hooded wizard of darkness, was suddenly elevated well beyond his station and burdened with responsibilities he never prepared for.
But that was okay.
As Atticus' glowing eyes studied the intricate details of the golden filigree decorating the indigo stone doors before him, he considered what it all meant. He had been told by a person as terrifying as himself, the grand necromancer Lord Rail, that this was all perhaps a blessing in disguise. Atticus had spent almost all his days in one tower or another, isolated from the whole world while he studied. Now, he was being turned loose into the world, allowed to interact with people and learn their ways. Yes, he would have to unite heroes and defend everyone from... SOMETHING on the horizon... but in the meantime, there was beauty to behold and experience to be had. Even right this moment, he was savoring the benefits of this sudden and unexpected burden.
The irony was not lost on him that before he was an object of ridicule by his peers. When he entered the room before him, he'd be an object of envy, since most students knew only whispers of the grand dining hall. There were so many stories, that the stucco walls were enchanted to act out great scenes of history while the cutlery was made to dance and sing. They said the seats were cushioned with goose feathers and lined with rich velvet and built on frames of gold. They said the ceiling was made to project a permanent borealis, reflected magnificently by pillars made of diamond. And the food! There were tales of delicacies so rare that even the Empress hadn't heard of them. They said the roast was so tender that you did not need to chew, but allow the meat to simply dissolve on your lips. And dessert! Cakes so sweet a single bite would spin your head with sugary indulgence, chocolate so rich and creamy that you could practically drink it, and beverages so exotic they were said to have been shipped by pirates of the seas wrapped in fine silk.
So many rumors. So many secrets. All of them behind this door!
That was why Atticus was staring. Those fifteen minutes he had given himself in order to ensure that he was on time and NOT late to a meeting with the ruler of his country were quickly waning. He was lost in thought and wrapped up in the details of the fantasy. He only managed to shake his head and snap out of it a mere two minutes before he would be late and only because the doors were opening of their own accord.
No backing down now. Atticus took a deep breath and stepped into the private dining hall to meet his Empress...
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Post by The Creator on Feb 10, 2015 20:45:39 GMT
[From A Court of Hot Air, in the Rainbow Tower, The Arcane Colleges; Avalendor]
Of all the rumors circulating about the College of the Private Hall, Regina's favorite was the spectacle happening just above its occupants; a brilliant display of magic--the Illusionist's work, she assumed--perfectly displaying the Northern Lights in all its majesty. Each color was bright and vibrant, swimming just below the ceiling in an endless wave, always cycling back once it struck the room's corners. The diamond pillars amplifying this presentation also served to absorb the light, and sent it spiraling down each column in its own, unique pattern.
Regina sat squarely in the center of the room, far across the hall from the main entryway, in the Arch Mage's glittering throne. At her side looking squeamish and green was Charles, who had been given a thorough verbal lashing only an hour prior by the Empress herself; how he behaved with the Enchantress was not only appalling, it embarrassed the new Queen. Aside from his scolding, the walls currently showed an ages-old battle between the Elves and Men, several familiar and notable faces among the fray. Motion-sick, the soon-to-be Prince-Consort kept his eyes trained on the bare table before him, silent even as the doors began to open.
Her head perked up immediately, and Regina dropped her hands and folded them neatly into her lap. The boy entered, seemingly both anxious, nervous and--hopefully after Lord Rail's intervention--a bit more confident. He sure had a new bump in his stride, and that made the Eveliegh Queen smile; just a few hours prior, the young Wizard could have wet himself. She raised her chin and waved the boy over, indicating a chair close to the royals for him to sit. Once situated, she tilted her head to a door receding from the north wall.
"He is here," she said, and in response a Dwarven woman poked her head out behind the nearby pillar, and nodded. "You may begin serving."
The Dwarf smiled and disappeared beyond the wall, leaving the three completely alone. Before the Wizard could ask about the Grand Mages, Charles chimed in.
"They weren't invited, if you were wondering."
"Charles," Regina hissed, but remained smiling as her eyes traced Atticus up and down again. "Enough, please. Ahem, thank you, Mister Daegal. I'm very glad you came. I did some research and had the chefs ask what you liked back at Professor Lucian's college. I'm sure you will recognize a delicious palette this evening. Lucian did enjoy food. I used to go with my father on his trips to each of the towers, before convening here became necessary. He always served exotic, magical foods. They were always the best.
Regina clapped her hands when the back door opened again and a larger trolley came rolling in, teeming with rich smells and glowing, shining silverware. As it came close, she nudged Charles to assist the Dwarf, while she kept focus on their guest.
"Firstly, let me apologize on behalf of the Rainbow Tower for calling upon you on such short notice. Today was simply a routine visit...unforeseen circumstances led to your unfortunate involvement in these affairs. You are so young, and it is not customary that I would allow such an undertaking...but Madame Damara's insistence is...
"Forgive me. Mister, or shall I say Master Daegal now, hm? A full-fledged College Mage. I'm sorry, I could not help myself. Your credentials will be given to you tomorrow. This will allow you to perform your craft among the public with little interference. I understand you normally wish to earn this, or at least your records speculate as much. It was necessary if you are to head into this unforgiving world."
She offered a wry smile, even as the Dwarven Woman set down her plate and two glasses, one filled with water, the other red wine. When she pulled off the plate's lid she was met with a heaping steak, sautéed in spices her nose recognized as coming from Knemysis. She made an audible sound indicating she was pleased, and dug in slowly the only way someone in her position could: barely.
"I'm certain you have questions," she said after her first forkful, and took a gentle sip of wine to complement the spices.
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 11, 2015 3:41:26 GMT
The room did great justice to all the rumors he had heard (except perhaps the one about the Maestro's seat being fashioned to resemble a toilet, but he had always suspected that one to be false anyway). As the wizard stepped into the room, he had to fight the intense urge to take it all in and truly savor the splendor of such a gran dining hall. He was more studied than he had been before and knew the procedure now. When he walked, it was with a far greater amount of confidence than before, his steps practiced and precise. After all, had he not just spent the past two hours in rehearsal?
With measured strides, the Fallen walked into position across the table from Regina and offered a near-perfect bow. Naturally, he could not remove his hat, so some small improvisation had to be considered. "You grace... Lord Charles... It is a delight and a privilege to have been invited here tonight... might I ask about-" he began, but was cut off by the soon to be prince consort. "Oh," was Atticus' only response before he walked to the seat previously indicated by her majesty. Gracefully, he half-bowed and took his position.
Becoming comfortable was no difficulty at all. The seats were as decadent as the décor, and it once again took a great deal of concentration for the young man to not immediately begin inspecting every small detail, or to drift into a gentle reverie. In fact, had Regina been watching the contour of those yellow orbs that glowed ever-present in his hood, she might have noticed the fluctuation as his eyes half-closed for a fraction of a second in bliss. Of course, he quickly corrected this and sat properly. Head high. Shoulders back. Hands in your lap. Feet flat on the floor.
The Queen outlined their meal and clapped. Before Atticus could even speak, the kitchen staff was a flurry with movement. It took mere moments for everything to fall into place by the kind of precise workmanship only a dwarf could provide. Before him was a plate that held one of his absolute favorite meals from Lucian's college. A beautifully marbled buffalo steak served with a cup of creamy cheddar and broccoli soup and complimented by a freshly steamed and buttered vegetable medley with a sourdough bread roll and a glass of a dark red cranberry cocktail mixed with sugared, non-alcoholic seltzer and a lemon wedge on the rim.
Atticus would actually stare at this for a moment or two. It was the meal he requested on his birthday year after year when he was but another student at the old Transmutation tower. He had been orphaned there but the headmaster, Lucian, had been especially kind to him. He had friends who would share his days with him. A study group. Wise and benevolent teachers who always entertained every detailed question he had no matter how insignificant or minute just to make sure that he truly UNDERSTOOD the material... all dead now.
The sadness would be brief, but apparent. The shape of his eyes indicated his mood quite against his will at times and his little ritual of testing the tenderness of the meat with his fork was almost mechanical and melancholy, as though his body was reacting to the memory without his fully realizing. It wasn't until the queen mentioned that he must have had questions that he was ripped from the past and brought crashing back into the present.
"Hm? OH!" Atticus said, sitting up sharply once more (perhaps rather enthusiastically since his knee did hit the bottom of the table and cause a light clattering of dishes). "My apologies, your grace... nostalgia..." he said, glancing to his nearly untouched plate before clearing his throat and looking to her once more.
"Master Daegal?" he asked, finding the terminology odd on his lips. "But I am just a... Well, I suppose you already know how I feel..." he said sheepishly, realizing she had already noted that he would have wanted to earn the title properly. A Master Wizard of the Rainbow Tower was an instructor or other ranking official who had worked hard for that title over the course of MANY years of study, examinations, and of course dedication to the post. He didn't feel he deserved the title, but already he understood the reason WHY he had it. "Am I to understand that the title is temporary?" he asked.
"After all... once I've concluded this business, whatever it entails, I'm still not ready to teach a class or even handle official business on a day-to-day basis. This is all... well... sort of an emergency, isn't it?" he asked, not sure what word to put on it, but based on what he understood of the sudden nature of his involvement, this one felt right. He paused, apparently in thought, before speaking again. "I mean... only a fool would NOT trust Madame Damara's word, and your highness is no fool. It's just... so strange. Why me, specifically? Surely, if you've gone to these lengths to know my favorite birthday meal and my respect for proper process... then you KNOW what I've done..." he said, his eyes darting down for a fraction of a second before glancing back up.
"Milady..." he began, ready to ask a question that may not have a forward answer. "Based solely on a first impression, would you honestly trust someone like myself? I'm having... a difficult time understanding that matter."
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Post by The Creator on Feb 13, 2015 0:48:44 GMT
As she had been trained all her life, Regina practiced perfect patience throughout many of her meetings, nodding politely, dipping her head curtly at the end of each statement, question and exclamation. For a young man, he seemed awfully well-versed and approximately above college level reading. He was curious, too, and rather anxious.
Regina saw herself just a little in him, from when she was very young and had entire castles for herself to explore. He undoubtedly traversed every nook and cranny the Rainbow Tower had to offer, content in his studies, whisked off to a fantastical world all his own. The Empress sighed as the Wizard came to a close, and she stabbed her fork deep into the center of her steak.
"If I had just met you and were supposed to put the fate of everything my family has worked so hard for...into your delicate, yet dangerous hands? Would I trust you to run the errands the Circle wishes to charge you with? Well, Master Daegal, I suppose there wouldn't be much of a choice in the matter, anyway, now would there? As it stands, this is just the situation we're currently in. To be honest I was rather frightened at first, mostly due to the appearance, and how your eyes glimmer beneath that hood. I had been told by Lord Brass of your condition--as well as the sordid past--when you first arrived aboard the Roving Castle.
"What happened in the past will stay there, as was my intention initially, and it holds no sway over my judgement, I can promise you that. Accidents do happen, and although I would very much like to hear the details, I needn't nother you with them. I think about it as...a lesson to the Grand Mages. They tamper with forces far greater than our understanding. You are at no fault for being curious. Please don't think I'm prejudice, I just feel the Circle has far too many privileges; they took advantage of my father and grandmother, I'm sure. Often."
She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in the quiver of her lips indicating she would never put the young Mage's apparent accident above the loss of her father. In that sense she was blind to the many lives claimed, with the focus of her heart on one. Eventually she continued to eat, until at last she mustered the answer to his earlier question.
"Allow me to correct that. You are a College Mage, given graduate status without the hassle of all the Mastee Magician paperwork. You will not be teaching classes or performing anything outside of the Grand Mage's granted powers. They will give you a list of privileges before you set out, I think. However the license to practice Magic off school properties alone will give you great freedom outside these walls. Otherwise you might be labeled a Rebel, or worse. The running nickname, if you will, for rogue magicians, is "Imperial Initiate"...or simply "Imperial Wizard". Seeing as the Grand Mages believe there may be some stock in the true Order's legend...you definitely do not want that label among the common folk. There were many burnings in Zydrate about a year ago, at the southernmost point of Kythra...the Viceroy there, although young, is a very harsh ruler. No license, no rights. Please carry that with you at all times, Atticus. And of course, steer clear of Zydrate. Prince Clovis is now crucifying traitors instead of burning them."
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 13, 2015 19:04:01 GMT
"Avoid Zydrate... good note..." Atticus stated, his eyes stitched with concern as he looked off on that statement. He truly hoped he didn't HAVE to go there, but with this errand he was to run it was very much unsure what the future held. He considered what the Empress said, regarding what his rights and privileges would be. He made a point in his mind to ensure he never abused it. What he was being given was a tremendous honor and he did not want to spread distrust of his home and his teachers and grand masters. Already, he could sense a great deal of mistrust on the part of the Empress.
"Trust..." Atticus said after taking a bite of the marbled steak in front of him. "I think that's the foundation of a good relationship, your grace. I'm afraid I didn't know your father or grandmother personally, but whenever I heard of them, I always felt there was a great deal of cooperation between state and school. The colleges... yes, they enjoy a great deal of privilege and influence - but I feel they would not have gotten that way had they not earned their position. In fact, aren't several of the grand mages involved in the royal court as well? Lord Brass certainly enjoys reminding people of his position. I'd like to think that both institutions are strong because they have the other to rely upon. A relationship like that depends on neither side taking unfair advantage of the other."
That was how Atticus felt, but there was something in the queen's tone of voice. A pain he recognized, because he often felt it as well. He oftentimes thought of old Lucian as his father, since the man had all but taken him under his wing. When the woman spoke of wanting to know details, and her insistence that "accidents do happen", Atticus knew almost immediately, but wanted to be certain before proceeding.
"Forgive me... Your father was in the Transmutation Tower that night... wasn't he?" he asked as he set his fork and knife down. He looked to her pointedly, his eyes sharing his sympathy and concern for her.
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Post by The Creator on Feb 16, 2015 13:00:49 GMT
She had promised herself she wouldn't do this; absolutely, positively wouldn't disturb the young wizard any further than he had been already. But then again she was no longer in control of the conversation, was she?
Taking her napkin in both hands, the Empress fidgeted with it some before gently wiping her ruby lips clean of any food residue that may have been sitting for too long. She waved Charles off as he moved in to caress her shoulder, and set the napkin over her plate, covering both her scraps and what was left.
"It was a routine visit," Regina at last admitted, maintaining a firm eye contact with the young man, staying strong under the pressure of reliving such a tragic day. "Lord Brass had returned from an expedition in the Tiber Jungle; he made a discovery that Lucian praised heavily, and was desperate for the Emperor to see it as soon as possible.
"It was around this time Father was making his rounds between the Colleges anyway, although the Transmuter's Tower wasn't next in line. He was to visit Caria first. Lucian had insisted, and so my father conceded. They were good friends, you know."
The Empress took her wine and swished the glass's contents a bit before taking a rehearsed sip, and then set it down without a sound, her mournful eyes watching the liquid settle as she played that day's tragedy again and again in her mind.
"I was at the Winter Palace with my brothers and sisters, my cousin Halide and Lady Lilith. The Historian--that is how Halide is called among the public--is Lord Brass's eldest sister, and she had come for a visit after a beau she had been seeing disappeared. We were comforting her, and so it was out of my hands. I couldn't go with my father on his pilgrimage.
"To this day it haunts me that I was not with him, but do not think I hold you responsible in any way. Remember, accidents do happen. From what I gather..."
A tear fell off her cheek and onto the forgotten napkin.
"You were simply curious."
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 16, 2015 18:31:38 GMT
So... the king himself was among the hallowed dead caused by his curiosity. Atticus was not only responsible for one of the greatest tragedies of the century, but on some level could be marked a traitor to the crown as well. Perhaps the most damning thing about the whole situation was that the real VICTIM here did not blame him, where he would happily bear the cross of his own mistakes. After all - how many times had he been warned? To what lengths did he have to go to get past guards and locks and magical safeguards to look upon something he was told was absolutely forbidden? Atticus' eyes looked down a moment as he thought it all over, and attempted to understand the Empress' position as well. This situation. It was painful for the both of them.
Atticus knew not to attempt to console the queen, as she had even waved off her consort. What she needed now wasn't comfort but simple understanding. Atticus allowed a moment to pass before speaking again.
"Lucian. He was very much like a father to me. I'm not sure if you were made aware but I was orphaned on the doorstep of the Transmutation Tower as a child. Had it not been for the grand mage's kindness, I would probably have been sent to some halfway house somewhere in the poor country where the survival rate is... less than ideal. Lucian spoke highly of your father, so your words ring very true to my memory of their friendship. Whenever I recall that fateful night, all I can think of is how many times Lucian himself told me - commanded me - scolded me NOT to think on those locked vaults deep below. It was the only time I had ever disobeyed him, and to this day I cannot think WHY..."
Atticus had lifted his hand and was playing lightly with the flame of the nearest candle, his glowing eyes seeming to dim lightly as his mind reached into the past. "I was curious, yes... I was leaps and bounds beyond the other students. I had a talent for what I was learning and gods above it was intoxicating. Not the power, mind you. I never cared for strength or force... those are the tools of bullies. Just to KNOW was enough to induce euphoria. And perhaps I thought if I could master this... I could show everyone that I was worthwhile and not just some orphan Lucian took pity on. Maybe I wanted to make him proud?"
Atticus paused, pulling his hand back to inspect the slightly melted surface of the fingers of his glove. Nothing too damaging, just enough that it was observable under great scrutiny. "My actions - and that is what they were, your highness, no matter how many times I've been told that I've been forgiven - my actions and choices lead to the loss of so many, including the only man for whom I felt a familial bond... and now to my great regret I learn that I'm responsible for someone you lost as well. You speak of being haunted, my lady... You need not be. You comforted a friend in their time of need and that was noble. I ignored the good advise of my betters and in my arrogance and greed for knowledge committed a tragedy I will NEVER be able to fix..."
He looked away, to some distant place far and away from the dining hall. "I'm sorry I did not know about your father. Every year, on that day, I ask permission to visit the graveyard where the honorary headstones lay to commemorate the lives lost in the Tower Tragedy. I go and I leave a flower on each, as an apology and a promise that such a thing will never happen again. I've come to know every one of those names, to imagine their lives before they were cut short. His name was never amongst them. I assume there is a monument somewhere I was never made aware of, or perhaps a private royal cemetery..."
He sighed, shaking his head. "But... there is reason behind all things, yes?" he asked, almost hopefully as he sat back, eyes looking to the empress with almost a desperate plea behind them that went unsaid. "After all... why would Creation in her infinite wisdom keep me alive when I was the very heart of the incident that brought down that tower? How is it, despite being buried under Creation only knows how many tons of rubble did the magic happen that turned me into what you saw today? I don't have these answers, my lady... But with this prophecy... I'm beginning to wonder all over again. And having met you personally and sharing this unfortunate link... I wonder if you weren't MEANT to be in the winter castle that day..."
His next words he said both encouragingly and hopefully. "If the gods can forgive us our trespasses... perhaps we can learn to forgive ourselves?"
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Post by The Creator on Feb 16, 2015 19:27:11 GMT
Regina responded with a warm smile, enough to melt the coldest hearts and bright enough to illuminate the most pitch dungeons; her eyes were distant, however, glazed over as she stared deeply into the flickering flame of a distant candle. Today's events had worn heavily on her heart, and she wouldn't soon forget the turbulent shifting of emotions weighing her down. She offered the young wizard a knowing glance before nodding, agreeing with his latter statement.
Tapping her lower lip with a scarlet fingernail, she pondered over the boy's earlier question and shook her head. With a shrug, she elaborated.
"No," she said, in almost a whisper as the candle flickered again. "My father's...body, it wasn't ever found, just like Lucian's. There is a Memorial to Lucian there, and one for the Emperor in the Crystal Gardens, but no graves." Again Regina shrugged and leaned over to Charles, quietly excusing him from the table. He looked irritated, as the second course--let alone dessert--hadn't yet arrived, but the Queen would have none of it. "I must speak to the young one of important Royal matters, darling. Fret little, as we shall soon be wed. Your presence will never be questioned in this manner again. Forgive me. I shall retire to our room after I've concluded here.
The man grumbled again before rising, bowing low in Atticus's direction, almost begrudging his own body in doing so, and briskly exited with an audible huff. Regina sighed, and finished her glass of wine.
"Master Daegal, I do not want you to be weighed down by the incident, as the concerns of the present are more threatening than the lingering effects of dwelling in the past. You must keep your eyes forward, on the future.
"When you meet with this...Sky Pirate, I presume you will have some idea how to improvise. She will likely be belligerent in some manner. Her Husband is missing, and you must tear her focus from that. She will try to dwell on it. If you are meant to be allies, her goal must coincide with your own. From what the Oracle Ecco says, the spouse's disappearance may yet be tied to our Imperial concerns. As well,"
The woman rose and walked over to the young man's chair, and handed him a gilded leather pouch, bulky as if junk had been packed in tight.
"You might need this for travel expenses, but if she will not listen to reason, bribery is an option. There are one thousand darlings in there; well platinum, equal to one thousand gold pieces. This is from my personal coffers, and a gift to you alone."
Once satisfied, she prodded some more.
"I am somewhat at a loss like you on where to head from here, alliance-wise, that is. Do you have any proposals? I recall you said a priest would be necessary, and I agree. If the Mages are going to assign you dangerous missions, I feel a healer would be necessary. And your soul cleansed daily. You'll be traveling with a pirate, likely...
"Are you trained for combat?" She asked at last, bewildered that none had considered this question beforehand. "The Grand Mages are used to missions including enemy wizards and the rare Sorcerer, but sending you out without at least basic offense...would be silly. Forgive me, but you look like a sword wouldn't be an extension of your arm like some of my newest guards..."
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 17, 2015 3:45:03 GMT
Atticus blinked as the man was excused. He watched him bow and leave in a huff, noting that this was NOT the first time he had gotten the distinct impression that the man and his queen were not exactly on the same page. His eyes only left the man once the door snapped shut behind him, at which point they returned to the queen with a question there which he could not put words to. The best he could muster was a gesture of the shoulders and hand to indicate that he was unsure what to say in the given situation and would have to leave it at that.
As the queen elaborated on the need to focus on the present and future, Atticus nodded. His eyes refocused from their confused state to a more thoughtful contour. He leaned back a little and rested his hand where his chin supposedly lay beyond the shadowy veil under his hood. "You raise a wise and pointed concern, your majesty. How will I-"
Before he could finish, he found that her ladyship had already crossed between them and he had been so rude as to not stand the moment she had. Now he was somewhat cornered, unable to stand without knocking her over (which was tantamount to outright TREASON in some circles). So, instead he bowed his head and accepted her gift in both hands, though those orbs would shoot into perfectly round circles of absolute SHOCK when she stated what was inside. Heaven knows he had hardly ever held more than a darling or two in his hands over the course of his entire lifetime, seeing as he had been practically raised on campus. Now, he was handling enough to set a small family's affairs in order for a generation or two!
"Your grace, I-" he started, but was almost immediately cut off by the Queen bringing to light another set of questions. And he, ever the victim of a shifting focus, instantly moved from one thought to the other.
"A priest is a must, just for first aid purposes..." he admitted, that thoughtful look in his eyes once more. "As to combat, I'm afraid a lot of my spells are more suited to utility, for practical use. I CAN defend myself a little with a staff and my... er-hem... situation... it protects my physical body well enough, though if this coat were destroyed with me IN it... that'd be the last you'd see of me... frighteningly enough..." he admitted.
With a smiling curve of his orbs, he looked up to the Queen. "A wonderful suggestion! Yes, a warrior would clearly be needed next! Between myself, a priest, and that... the only thing I can imagine would be useful then would be someone skilled with the land... or someone with some knowledge of how to travel safely. I won't assume our lady pirate will offer help in that regard, as I haven't even spoken with her. Naturally that would be IDEAL, but I've read a great many novels and accounts in which soldiers of fortune only lift the blade when it best suits them. Of course, I probably could convince her but it is best for the time being not to rely heavily on matters which I cannot say for certain are.............."
He paused, blinking as if in sudden realization.
"I'm sorry. It is considered extremely rude to ramble in the presence of royalty, is it not? I'm afraid I'm in the habit of speaking only to myself... my apologies."
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Post by The Creator on Feb 20, 2015 16:52:19 GMT
The Empress of Avalendor shook her head, a bright smile stretching from ear to ear as her own ears went red, suddenly feeling his embarrassment and empathizing deeply. Again the woman patted him on the shoulder and sat closer to the young wizard, in a chair adjacent to him instead of her own.
"Please just pretend you and I are old colleagues, Atticus," the Empress said cordially. "If you are to be an agent of the Arcane Colleges, then we will be working just as closely, and as you can see...aside from the nods and bows required by protocol, the Grand Mages see me as only their benefactor. Why can we not be allies? This will be your first assignment. Don't worry too much about Royal etiquette, alright? You will have time to study for certain operations while on the road, I'm sure. It is unnecessary here and now. You are free to speak.
"As assosiates, let us discuss matters without all those obstacles, and I think we will do just fine."
The woman folded her hands and set them in her lap.
"I think we may take a break from 'work', though. Lord Brass tells me of some time after you were taken to his estate on that fateful day. Tell me about life prior to it, will you?"
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 21, 2015 20:40:12 GMT
Atticus could visibly be seen relaxing his shoulders and settling into a more at ease position the instant the Queen suggested doing away with courtly demeanor. "If it is what my lady wishes. Thank you, your grace..." he said with a slight sigh. He shuffled lightly in his seat until he was better situated, where a commoner might position themselves for maximum comfort over courtly demands of propriety. Not to say that his posture was inappropriate, just not to standard.
"As associates... It's a strange notion, all things considered..." Atticus admitted. "Even before the incident, I was never really one of the most social students. I had friends - or rather acquaintances - but mostly I kept to myself. That's why I'm in the habit of rambling, there's nobody to tell me to stop!" he said by way of slight humor. He offered his strange version of a smile, hoping his joke went over well enough to put the Empress a little more at ease with him. Yes, she did seem much more relaxed than she had when they first met, but there was still a wall there (as well there should be, since she was a royal and he a mere commoner). That wall, appropriate or not, had to come down if he was to ask what he was about to.
"Pardon me for being forward..." he said as he stole a glance in the direction of the door Charles had exited through. "But might I ask if I've done something to offend your fiancé? I heard you mention that you two are to wed but he doesn't seem very happy with the situation here, and I don't want to impose by speaking privately with another man's betrothed..." he said. This had nothing at all to do with courtly behavior, but was a consideration of the sacred rites of marriage. That, and the last thing he needed was for a member of the court to be cheesed off at him.
"If it's none of my business, feel free to tell me so. I just don't want to offend anyone..." he clarified.
"But you did ask me of my life prior. It would be extraordinarily rude of me to not oblige a request from a lady by demanding answers first. So, before you answer, allow me to honor your request," Atticus added, not to hog the conversation but to solidify to the queen that he was not trying to pry and did in fact want her to be comfortable.
"As I recall it, outside of the sideways looks from my peers, my childhood and young adulthood at the Transmutation Tower was quite lovely. I wanted for nothing, really. Lucian as I have said before was a tremendous inspiration for me and very understanding. The teachers were all accommodating, though I doubt there weren't a few that didn't find my constant questions and requests for clarification somewhat annoying. Honestly, I was quite happy. All the books I could read, food and shelter provided. Lucian himself had agreed to sponsor me, so I was basically getting what many there would have sacrificed a family member for - a free ride."
Atticus sat back slightly, looking off into the distance a bit. "I was an obsessive student. Every bit of writing, from the moment I was taught to read, was its own special kind of magic to me. Fiction, biography, even music textbooks were infinitely fascinating. I picked up the flute when one teacher told me my reading habit was... unhealthy," Atticus said, though almost questioningly on the last word as he still had trouble to this day trying to understand why they felt learning was a bad thing. He reached into his robes just after and produced a small silver flute, no larger than a foot in length and simply built, a mere tube of metal with holes. "I could play for you and your fiancé, if you wish. I know several songs by heart. I haven't quite figured out how bards channel their music to magic but I'm content with art for art's sake."
He looked again to the empress, smiling a bit. "I also keep a small book of poetry. It's a practice I took from Miss Caria back when she was well. She kept a tome full of nursery rhymes on her person at all times. I find the practice enlightened."
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Post by The Creator on Feb 23, 2015 15:48:12 GMT
She agreed it was a pleasurable past, to be sure, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she nursed her drink slowly, imagining the young wizard's story through her own eyes; at mention of the boy's interest in poetry, she remarked her own personal passion for it. Of course, she hadn't taken to the art as Caria, or even the young Atticus, but she did enjoy the craft.
"I do have little time for it nowadays," she admitted, seemingly regretting certain choices in life. For a moment she had forgotten Atticus's earlier question, but the frown she felt forming in her cheeks brought it back like a heavy slap to the face. She turned and faced the wizard and bowed her head, took a deep breath, and put on a regal smile.
"Charles does not fully grasp the rules for Royal matters. As my fiancé, he is privy to a great many freedoms, including knighting particular spectacular individuals. For obvious reasons, however, there are situations in which only a blooded member of the Court should be present, or at least a wedded individual among the flock. As he is neither, this maintains our security. He reports solely to me and the court with a ring about his finger. His allegiance until then...no. You haven't offended him. He simply wishes to be included in all aspects of our dealings. And he would be, but of late my trust has waned."
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 25, 2015 4:54:32 GMT
Atticus listened intently and offered a slight nod as she explained. It seemed the man had great ambitions but wasn't quite knowledgeable where he needed to be. That would be quite unfortunate, considering a marriage between the two of them would make him a person of extreme importance and power. However, what the queen said last was concerning.
"Forgive me if I seem uneducated in royal matters, your highness, but... If your trust in the man is waning, is it wise to keep him as your fiancé? Neither of you seem particularly happy with the arrangement, and as a Queen do you not have some right to exercise in that regard? Again, if all of this is outrageously rude or improper, please let me know before my ignorance causes me to say something that might be mistaken as traitorous."
Atticus again glanced to the door. He couldn't help but believe that there was a high probability that the man was on the other side listening in. If he wanted so badly to be apart of everyday court, that would be exactly the kind of action Atticus himself might have taken in his position, after all. The robed wizard shook his head slightly to do away with this image in his mind before looking again to the empress.
"I have to admit, I see far too much pain when I examine your expressions. Despite your youth, you seem burdened with the weight carried by a woman many times your age. I see sorrow and heartache and it does not match your personality. You are kind and courageous, having stood steadfast in the face of so much today alone. A lesser woman might have broken at the... rather unfortunate and somewhat ill-conceived display I made of myself earlier..." Atticus rubbed his shoulder involuntarily when he mentioned this. "But I could hear you whirling around on the Grand Mages in my defense even from the ground floor. You possess compassion, a gentle heart, and a well-meaning nature. That you should also be unhappy..."
Atticus trailed off, shaking his head and looking off. "You are our queen, our sovereign. You should want for nothing that you may better rule over us. If matters such as these cloud your thoughts then your duties as queen could push you clean over the edge of despair. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, as they say."
The Fallen wished he could offer more. He wished he could support her somehow, to offer at least some manner of strength that could be of any assistance, but with her being betrothed a great deal of what he could say would me misconstrued and taken out of context. In light of all that's happened, Atticus felt like he was more of a burden than a crutch at the moment.
"Regardless what course you choose, I pray for the happiness and well being of my queen and if I may be so bold, my friend," was all he could offer.
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Post by The Creator on Feb 25, 2015 23:54:14 GMT
"I do have very little true friends," Regina said quietly, almost distant as her mind pondered the possibilities, most of which ended terribly. Her first thought was to agree, but she felt the boy may continue this line of questioning, and she simply had little patience for it right now. No, she wouldn't. Instead, she smiled that rich, deep smile and stood out of her chair, almost rigidly, and held out her hand to the boy.
"Perhaps another time, and i shall tell you that tale at the palace, hm? It is a long story, and at this time quite the burden on an already heavy heart. You need no such pressure added to your shoulders, either. No, we shall discuss this again some other day. Until then, you have much work ahead of you, and as Lord Rail said a fantastic opportunity. Let's not spoil it with tears."
Leaning forward she kissed the crown of the wizard's hood--a royal blessing reserved for heroes and doers of extraordinary deeds.
"If you have finished your supper, I advise you to get some rest. I theorize tomorrow will be a busy morning. Goodnight, Master Daegal. May Creation Guide and Bless you."
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Post by Atticus Daegal on Feb 26, 2015 4:08:09 GMT
Atticus blinked when suddenly the walls came up and the Empress stood from her chair in a rigid fashion. In an instant, she was closed off emotionally and grew distant in her eyes. He felt he had overstepped his boundaries and upset his queen, which was a disastrous move to say the least. However, he felt that showing regret would probably only weigh even heavier on her after all they had discovered tonight and instead offered a polite and understanding nod.
"Whenever my queen wishes," Atticus agreed as he bowed his head. He focused on sliding his flute back into the sleeve of his robe, in that little hidden pocket he had requested a long time ago specifically for his instrument. Part of him was a little embarrassed he had mentioned it, since it seemed to be a point of sorrow for the woman. He'd have to apologize for that later, as right now he needed to refocus on the situation at hand. Before he noticed she had even moved, however, the queen had bowed herself to place a kiss on his hooded cranium. His eyes shot wide with surprise, considering this was among the GREATEST honors in the kingdom and usually come with a great deal of ceremony. (After all, how would he ever PROVE it had happened?) He looked up just in time to see a distant smile and a word of advice coupled with a dismissal.
Atticus wished to say something else, but caught his stammering before he could make a greater fool of myself. He merely closed his eyes and stood politely, bowing gracefully before his empress. "You are very wise, your grace," he said. "But I've miles to go before I sleep. I need yet copy the spell given to me by the Brass Duke and I wish to prepare some materials in advance so that I will be better prepared tomorrow. A busy night to precede the busy morning for I. But I will take heed to your words and ensure I am well rested. I pray that your highness is similarly able to put her mind at ease before the morning sun rises. May Creation Guide and Bless you as well, my queen."
With that, Atticus stepped back and made his way to the doors. He hadn't eaten everything on his plate, but it was usually a sign of good manners in court to do so. It was a subtle sign of plenty to the royals, that they were very generous and gave more than was needed. Whether or not it was too much or too little was of minor consequence. Honestly, Atticus was far too distracted with matters at hand to pay much attention to appetite. As he walked toward the doors following the customary farewells, his mind was already racing with a million and one minor details.
Within the span of a single footstep, his mind had cataloged the necessary components for the spell he needed to copy into his spell book. He would need fresh ink in four different colors, since he was nearly out and he usually only kept black ink on hand to begin with. He would also need to recheck his supplies for the necessary CASTING components, since they would need to be used up in order to transfer the spell over. He'd have to spend a good few hours, so simply casting a light spell the way he would for his midnight reading wouldn't do. He'd have to make a detour to the supply house to pick up some extra candles.
On the next step, he was already considering his gear and what to pack. Candles were foremost on his mind, as he could grab them on his way out. Everything else he could probably stuff into his back from his room. He kept flint and steel, which would eliminate the need to waste a cantrip making fire. He had an inkwell he could refill before packing and a quill as well as parchment and a scroll case he used for classes. About the only thing he didn't have was some manner of outdoors equipment like tents or bedrolls. He'd have to make it a point to purchase these things if he had to.
By the third step he'd moved on to what he would even ask the Sky Pirate. He wondered if she'd be shocked by his appearance as the Empress herself had been. The Empress had proven to be a kind and understanding individual and probably highly forgiving because they shared that tragedy in their pasts and the pain of loss. Would someone who raided others for a living have the same level of mercy? Would they be terrified or would they be threatened? What would he even say to her? "Hi, I'm Atticus, let's go on an adventure"? Hardly. He'd have to approach the matter delicately. He had read something about the kolyarut race a long time ago, and how they can be rather overbearing. Maybe he should prove the opposite? Or should he BE the intimidating Wizard of the Rainbow Tower that he appeared to be? It was all strategy and planning, something Atticus could be good at... he assumed.
About the time he made it to the door, his thoughts were so overbore with details that he nearly failed to notice the man standing in the hall just beyond the High Mage's private dining hall. Atticus passed him by three feet before his surroundings penetrated the layer of considerations that had him preoccupied. He spun on the spot, his eyes a couple of wide circles in surprise at himself for being so rude! He immediately bowed low and respectfully to the soon to be prince regent.
"My deepest and most profound apologies!! I'm afraid there's so much on my mind that I completely let slip the rules of court! Please forgive me, my lord..." he said to the man. He did not rise, but rather waited for the man's say that he should do so.
In the meantime, his thoughts speculated on the words he would use in the interview tomorrow... and how on EARTH he was going to convince the sky pirate to help him seek out heroes to defend the Empire...
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