The Kethencian College of Magic RP (Part 3)

[Marvelous Miscreant]

It was only a matter of seconds after the dust settled and the noise faded that the pile of rubble that now filled the massive hole began to rumble. It shifted to the sides as the two massive hands of the Acolyte, assisted by wave of black sands, shifted the rubble with mighty shoves. The Acolyte easily pried himself from the rubble, with no visible damage to his body. Slowly he looked up at the mages standing on the ward above him and grinned with malicious glee.

“I’d have known you little mites had claws. You wield magic far more competently than many in this prison you call a school. Let us see how in control of the forces of magic you really are!”

With that the Acolyte slammed his hands together and a wave of Magic exploded from between his fingers like a bomb. The raw mana bent the ward separating the students from Blight upwards until it shattered pouring chaotic, powerful waves of erratic magic into the hall. Walls melted and burned, the air became lighter and heavier. Gravity gave up conformity and the laws of physics stopped caring. All hell broke loose.

And in the Madness, the Acolyte leapt from his impromptu prison and pounced upon the stunned Zauber; knocking him to the ground and pinning him with an enormous hand.

“You will die first pesky fly. Your mana will be like sweet ambrosia to quench my thirst of power.”

Blighted sands crept down the man’s arm to Zauber’s chest where they dug into the ward, consuming it slowly and burrowing towards his chest.

[Philote]

Zauber's version of the greater ward that been placed on the team began to move slower and drain in color. The line of defense that was currently saving his life was getting close to breaking.

With his left hand he grabs onto the acolyte's arm and tries to focus his mana to stave off the man's attack. With his right, he begins to place ward's on the man's body, trying to block and distort the flow of mana the man was using.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Billy was thrown, buffered like a sale in the wind, torn to pieces and reforming only to be ripped apart again. He was confused, could barley understand what was happening around him between the brief glimpses he caught before the maelstrom ripped him to bits once more. All he could do was struggle, feeling bits of himself shorn away to nothingness as he tried not to get carried away in the torrent of magic.

Until he saw it, far below. The acolyte perched atop Zaubar, that awful hungry sand eating through the protections so masterfully woven across his body. He flashed back, a year or a day or a lifetime ago. Back to a class, to a time when everything had been simpler, to a girl laid out on a slab for him to speak with.

To the hole in her chest. To the description of her death. To a promise, he suddenly realized, he was not going to be able to keep.

A horrible black howling seemed to come from nowhere, whispered accusations that drowned out even the chaos in the room. A cold wind kicked up, carrying a chill that passed right through the bone and into the soul and struggling against the acolytes raging mana.

Somewhere behind the acolyte, the place from which the wind and the whispers originated, Billy's form condensed from the dust and the ether, weathering the storm around him like a mountain. Amid the turbulence not a hair on his head moved, not a shutter could be seen by his cloak. His face was a mask of grim determination. "Abomination!" He shouted, and the whispers echoed his accusation in chorus. "Vampire! Wretched thief of life! Not one more! Do you here me? NOT ONE MORE!"

He raised up his one remaining hand, the true source of the wind and the pressure. "The restless dead swirl constantly around us. He intoned.

Around the school, around the city, around the wold perhaps, things stirred. In tombs and graves and the sights of old, forgotten murders black figures arose, as though responding to a call.

"Their heartful voices cry out for justice."

As one, each one of the shadows screamed, deep echoing shouts that passed through any wall and told of hateful dark things and lives cut short. As one, they took flight into the night air and converged on the school, moving at the speed of death which no being can outrun. Soon the room was lined with them and, though they possessed no eyes Blight could feel their gaze on him. Countless shades, eyes all on him.

The raging mana of the room abated, seemed to tune out, the only sound left were the whispers and accusations and the hollow footsteps of Billy Bishop as he moved forward towards him, arm upraised.

"Take it all!" His voice echoed somewhere very close and yet so far away, farther than Blight had ever been. "Their Pain. Their Regrets! And all of their Sorrow!"

Billy pushed off the ground, the sound echoing like distant thunder, rocketing toward Blight with the energy whirling round his hand. As one the shades dove, eager, lustful to join the swirling power adding themselves to it until Billy was completely obscured by the dark whirlwind whirling round his arm. But still, with one final shout, he let blight know he was there.

"PENANCE FINGER!"

The whirlwind collided with Blight, and the memories flooded in. The Fear. The Anger. The Misery. The Pain. The Loss. All that he had ever caused poured into him at once. He experienced all that he had inflicted upon other in his many years of life, and as those memories shoved themselves in they mingled with the lives yet still imprisoned within him. Reminding them that this creature was not their master.

As the spell came to an end the cloud of shades disappeared and the whispers slowly faded until they were nothing. There was no wind, no deathly chill, no pressure of any kind.

No Billy Bishop.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

Blight shrieked in pain, clawing at his head as the voices of agony roared in his mind. He fell to the ground writhing in agony. With a horrendous screech he lifted himself up and went berserk, throwing himself against walls and blindly swings his claws at anything and everything. Sands poured off his body in tendrils erratically twisting and flailing as if they did not know what to do.

Continuing to howl and scream, Blight careened down the hall back towards the other acolytes, all the while slamming back in forth against the walls in an attempt to rid himself of the agony the Billy had cursed him with.

Daramos panicked as he saw the last line of defense crash into the chamber screaming bloody murder and tearing at his own skin. He backed against the wall shouting to Kyrse.

“We’re out of time, do it NOW!”

“The ritual is not ready, it could kill the master!”

“DO IT NOW!”

[Philote]

Zauber begins to pick himself up only to fall over again. The acolyte's sand had really done a number on him. He tries to stand again but only manages to make it to his knees.

"I've got to do something!" he almost screams. He could not let all their work....and Billy's sacrifice....be for nothing. The ritual was almost done and all he needed was one final push to end it all and nothing was coming to him. Zauber punches the ground in frustration.

....And there it was. Titania's Prison. Resting under his fist as if it had always been waiting for when it would be needed. He gently picks it up as the acolyte's act in a panic to finish their ritual.

"I'm not sure I even have the power to wield you anymore" he sighs "But I'll give it all I have." The petals of his mage tool opens in response and magic begins to seep out. All the motes he had stored within the bird cage like flower from before he had lost his tool was now being released.

The motes fall onto the floor and make it dance with a display of magic and lightning. The magic traces out a path around where Zauber kneels, carving out a hexagon into the floor below.

He reaches into his robes and pulls out the enchanted statue that he had bought earlier in the year. A simple object, but sharing the same symbol that marked his tattoos and that was now being etched onto the floor around him.

The hexagon completes and the magic is turned back onto Zauber as the final line is drawn. The onrushing power overwhelms him and causes him to glow. He rises with a new vigor, both his mage tool and statue in hand as the hexagon rises as a disk around him.

Overdrive: Inscription Table

"You will never be free upon this world" a mote of shielding appears on one of the hexagon's points.

"Our efforts and sacrifices will not be in vain" a mote of warding appears on one of the hexagon's points.

"This is your punishment" a mote of defense appears on one of the hexagon's points.

"And your end is today" a mote of protection appears on one of the hexagon's points.

"Warding Arts" a mote of guarding appears on one of the hexagon's points.

"Lemniscate Prison"  the magic from the motes converges at the hexagon's sixth point and is released towards the acolyte's and their ritual.

Wards and sigils as numerous as the ones covering the hall of protection in the school above surge out of Zauber's magic.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The wards traveled quickly along the walls illuminating the dark chamber with blinding light. They sprawled rapidly along the stony walls, banishing shadows and revealing the dark ritual that Kyrse still chanted over.

Daramos stared at the growing wards in horror as they spread. He backed away from their light as all hope of success was washed away with their power.

“no….No!....No, No, NO! This can’t be happening!” Daramos screamed as he cowered from the wards, “Kryse, do something!”

But Kyrse did not answer. As the wards flowed over his ritual they halted it, severing Kyrse’s ties to it. The pent op mana exploded, throwing Kyrse across the chamber and knocking him unconscious. Daramos stared at him, dumbfounded.
“..K-Kyrse?....BLIGHT!! Help me! I….” Daramos began as he turned to see the massive acolyte still clawing at his head in an attempt to rid himself of the voices of his victims. Blight painfully crawled across the floor to the large sealed doors that served as his master’s prison.

“Save me master! Help me…” he whimpered as he pounded weakly on the doors, oblivious of the wards that now flowed along the door’s edges. The wards continued across the stone doors, sealing them forever as they collided together in front of Blight. But they did not stop, they continued along Blight’s arms and up his chest, sealing him for eternity to the door.

Daramos continued to watch in horror as the wards completed themselves and trapped Blight. Slowly he turned to face the mages who had bested him and his fellow acolytes. The mages had approached him. Standing shoulder to shoulder they glared down at him. Daramos faltered and stumbled away from they. Clawing at his suit he pulled a ragged scroll from his pockets and held it in front of himself like a shield.

“Stop! Stop! Please! These are the contracts for the acolyte’s fates, including your friend James’. Your Necromancer pal made me a deal that he’d let me go if I destroyed them. Please, you’ll honor his deal, yes? I’ll destroy them if you let me go. I promise…heh…please…”

Daramos searched desperately amongst the mages’ faces for some hint of compassion or mercy.

He found none.

[Tsubasa & Wen Tien]

Asoka glares at the Acolyte, "You wish for mercy? I think not. You have attacked and nearly killed us out of nothing more than the desire to garner power. Power is sacred, it is meant to protect loved ones."

She raises her Soulsword up in between the two of them, "Eviscerate, Lilianna."

As her Soulsword turned into petals, she continued, "Now, I shall show you what power wielded to protect others can do."

Asoka let her mana loose, igniting each of the petals and Murasaki before throwing the Mage Tool at the Acolyte with an inferno of burning petals following.

[Marvelous Miscreant]

The flames engulf Daramos, obscuring him in a wave of stinging heat and light. Only the faintest shadow of his form could be made out in the inferno. Slowly that shadow melted away into the dancing flames and the fire died, all the was left was a dark, ashy imprint on the floor and a shouldering scroll that unraveled as the flames bit into it.

Suddenly the contracts exploded with a brilliant violet light and several faint figures broke free. They were the slain acolytes free from Daramos’ bindings. Their ethereal forms were finally able to pass on. The waved as they floated up into the air and vanished.

As the contract finally burned away Kyrse awoke in the corner where he’d be thrown by the ritual’s blast. His papery form fluttered as he came to. His eyes seemed different now, more caring and curious that malicious and hateful. He looked at the mages a whispered, “Thank You…” before collapsing into unconsciousness again.

The College was again safe.

Over the next few days the students recovered from the attack. The college was rebuilt and a new calm settled over the students who had survived.

Kyrse was given a pardon and set up on parole as the college’s new Book keeper. A job he now lovingly preforms.

A funeral service was held for the students who were less fortunate. A special coffin was made by the Death School for Billy, whom the school now recognized for his sacrifice. It remained closed during the service. They never found his body.

The students who had fought against the Red Eye’s Minions were rewarded with the title of full blooded mages and were given free reign of the college’s facilities. They could continue to study here if they chose to.

It wasn’t until a few weeks after the battle that Zauber, Asoka, Wulf, Eric and Tibbs were invited up to the headmaster’s office for a debriefing.  When the mages had assembled in his office The Headmaster regarded them with respect. They had grown a lot in their time at the college, brief as it may have been. They were true mages now, no amount of practice or books could have taught them what that fateful night had. He smiled.

“I called you all up here tonight to talk to about “that” night.”

A few of the mages shifted uncomfortably at the memory.

“You were very brave to have faced those acolytes and you did admirably to defeat them. I know it could not have been easy. The last Person to face the Red Eye’s minions had far more practice than you had and still had a hard time. You all have a very special gift with magic that helped you to succeed, not everyone has such a gift.  But more than that, you had each other. And friendship is a power far more potent than any spell. It because of this that I wanted to speak to you; I wanted to offer you an opportunity few get. An opportunity to become a part of something far bigger than the college. Consider it an apprenticeship of sorts, with some of the most powerful beings in this or any other universe.”

The Headmaster leaned in close.

“I’m offering you a chance at a New Beginning. So…What do you say?