Private Tales Light After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
She gave him an empty look, not only not following along but gaining a worser headache for her troubles.

"The words, Gerrard," she practically demanded, her usual timidness bleed out by a lack of patience and a blunt need for answers.
 
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Gerrard sighed. He wasn't sure if her impatience irked or amused him. If it was the former it was only because it had taken some effort to start forming a chain of logic through the hangover and she'd just broken it.

"Fine," he muttered. He dipped a finger into some jam and drew a small intricate patter on the table no larger than the palm of his hand.

"Hold your hand over that. Not touching it. Imagine your pain drifting away and say 'Annellgetoas'. Ah-nell-gee-toe-ass."
 
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She took a deep breath in and out and closed her eyes, a wave of solemness overcoming her as she tried with more effort and confidence than ever before to tap into that flame inside of her properly.

It wasn't hard to find anymore, in fact each time she sought to control it, the task itself became easier and easier to manage. Maybe that was the point of practice, she noted silently.

But enough of that, focus.

"Annellgetoasts," she uttered, the pronunciation dropped at the end. Defying logic, magic flared as the rune came to life.

Both of their migraines dissipated, leaving only dry mouths and slight fatigue.

She swayed, a gasp tearing though her lips and her eyes snapping open. "Whoa." She paused, taking account for her body ... then grinned wide. "I did it! How are you feeling? I did it, right?"
 
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"Good. Thank you," he replied. His eyes narrowed just briefly. That was too easy. It was all too easy for her. Was he playing a dangerous game here?

Gerrard had a sudden moment of internal reflection. At the college he had raged at his tutors telling him that he wasn't ready for more knowledge when he was certain that he was. The same views that he had been so adamantly opposed to had gone through his own mind.

Rather than giving him some sympathy for his old teachers, instead this simply reaffirmed for Gerrard that he was correct to be teaching her so quickly. That was just the way he was.

"Still, a hangover is good for building character!" he laughed, sitting more upright. "Do you feel anything else after casting the spell?"
 
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She squirmed a little, reflecting inwards. "Uuuum. Itchy?" A not uncommon side affect of a new mage learning to part with the magic they had grown use to keeping inside of them. She scratched at her arms, otherwise no worse for wear over the cost the spell had on her. As they had already proven with the fireball practices, she had far more magic stored inside of her than the average beginner. It would take more than basic spells to burn through her mana.

Which would perhaps prove very dangerous-- a new mage with limits she did not know or understand.

This was a dangerous game they were playing indeed, but she didn't grasp that. She smiled across the table at him, pleased with herself.

"Told you it would work. Why has no one thought of it before?" She grabbed her cup, drinking heavily. Cotton mouth was still a prevalent concern.
 
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"Everything you do with magic has a cost. For that you probably just need to eat and drink plenty now. So make sure you do both. It was an interesting test. Mages who use magic to do...every mundane thing in life tend to pay for it more and more over time.

"Just...dont experiment with magic without asking me for advice first." Gerrard at least tried to set some responsible ground rules.
 
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She nodded, grinning into her cup. Come talk with him first? Of course she'd do that. Just as he'd have done the same when he was in her shoes.

The journey to Vel Anir was a comfortable one. A tent and a pack mule for supplies made the journey a slow yet lively one. They were not left short of conversation, Audryen's curiosity over magic insatiable ever since she learned she could faction her own spells for good.

"Okay, but why can't I just, like-- say a spell that kills him?" She asked on the last morning of their travel, challenging the limitations of their magic and trying to puzzle out why Gerrard hadn't just cursed him to death that very first fight at the lake.
 
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"A mage can defend themselves from spells. It's a balance you have to work out. Any spell which takes longer to cast or has a more significant effect is easier to counter. Spells which are quicker or less direct are easier to land."

He rode alongside Audreyn, close enough that they could converse on the road. The mule followed along dutifully, carrying their tent.

"Like when he turned the earth into spikes and threw them at me or I drew him into the ground. And a spell to directly cause death...that can come with a high cost. We try and avoid all out battles between mages. When two powerful magic wielders fight to the death it can get out of control. Mage hunters and assassins like our bald friend make good coin because a knife through the back in the night is the cleanest way to deal with a mage."

An angular shape was a deeper shade of grey on the horizon. It slowly pushed upwards as they climbed a gentle rise. The keep of Anir was a formidable structure. The corner of his lip twitched upwards. He was looking forward to seeing Audreyn's reaction when they crested the rise and could look down upon the extent of the city.
 
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She frowned, troubled by this. "But I'm not good with a weapon. I'm just a girl, I won't ever be." As pitting as the words were, her tone was factual, yet frustrated.

She took in a deep breath and huffed. Guess she'd just have to become a better mage than him then. She sat up straighter, straining to see something in the horizon around them.

"I thought you said we were almost there- Oh." She pulled her horse still up on that crest, her eyes wide and words lost.

"...That sure is a strange mountain," she commented, almost weakly. Even from a great distance, it was impossible not to feel instantly dwarfed and at awe over the stone infrastructure jutting into the sky. How could human hands manipulate a seemingly solid piece of stone like that like clay?

"It's been touched by the gods," she breathed, starting back on a slow trot forward. "This is it- right?" She looked to Gerrard wildly, physically unable to fathom what such a place was if not the city. A God's home? LIkely.
 
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"It's still five miles away," he remarked. "Though nothing man can build looks all that impressive once you've seen the spine of the world," he reflected. They couldn't even see the full extent of the walled city yet.

"And anyway, you've picked up a fireball easily enough. Fireballs, shields and a range of other spells make up a foundation of abilities to conduct battle with another mage. You've made exceptional progress so far."

He set his horse heading down the path towards the city. A caravan came into sight some distance to their right.

"Might take a little while to enter the city itself. Vel'Anir is a rather...cautious city. They can take their time inspecting the wagons coming in and out."

That was one way of putting it. Others might have said that the citys leaders were downright paranoid and hellbent on establishing their dominance over the entire region.
 
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"Well then. Sounds like time enough for another spell," she concluded haughty, eyes finally leaving the horizon to fuss at the dusty material of her dress.

"You said I could only learn a few this year, But I already know four. So I bet I can do it before we reach the gate." She smiled at him, a prim challenge.
 
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Gerrard wondered to himself if Audreyn was learning a little too quickly how to get her own way with him. A mental sigh and he decided there were more important things to worry about.

"Let's not do anything particularly flashy on the way down," he muttered, thinking. "Aha! Farsight. A simple spell but it allows you to see much further. Get you a view of the city."

Rearranging the reigns into one hand he closed his eyes and placed a hand over them. "You need to make everything dark, almost no light on your eyes. Then imagine reaching into the distance and say the word: optheander. Then open your eyes very, very carefully as everything will be bright."

He did exactly as he had instructed her to do, slowly opening his eyes open a crack. He had extreme tunnel vision now, the gates seemingly far closer than they were. He could see the guards in their chainmail moving between the wagons, inspecting them as they joined the queue.
 
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Audreyn obeyed, more eager than ever to test out this bout of magic and put her skills to the test. It might be a nice change in spirits to see her go about, if it wasn't also concerning the lack of limits she was showing.

"Optheander," she breathed, squinting. Her breath caught, the spell obviously successful as she fell abruptly silently in awe. Gerrard was was given near a minute's peace before she spoke again, and then the silence was broken by a laughter born from mischief and glee.

"Your nose is horrendous."

He would turn to find her squinting at him.
 
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"Well that wasn't a very nice thing to say," he laughed. Tilting his head back he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. The poor girl was afforded an extreme closeup of the rough surface of his tongue and his dangling tonsils.

"Close your eyes and sense the magic around them. Let it dissapate away. I wouldn't recommend holding the spell for too long. Also.. Hold your reigns tight so you don't get disorientated and fall off your horse when you open them."
 
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She laughed back, face crinkling. “Ew. I’ve now seen more of you than I ever care to.” The magic released, her tight grasp keeping her up as she swayed.

She clicked her tounge, grinning. “Make that *five* now. How am I going to remember these all? *now* I see why you fancy folk go about learning pens and such.” She kicked her horse into motion, eager to reach the city now.

“Do we look alright to meet your friends? I don’t have to like- oh gods, I won’t have to curtsy, will I?”
 
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"Oh you definitely will have to curtsy," Gerrard said with absolutely no trace of humour in his voice.

"Don't worry, we will be heading to my apartments first. Plenty of time to change into clothes fit for the city and change out of road clothes."

They cantered down and joined the tail end of the queue. The walls spread out to their left and right. They made the simply defences around the crossroad town look as if they had been built by a child.

" And yes that is exactly why we need to work on your writing."
 
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She paled, abruptly overwhelmed as the walls swallowed them and the prospect of curtsying engulfed her mind. She had been so enthralled by the thoughts of large cities and magic, she hadn't yet paused to consider what being a companion to someone like Gerrard might be like.

Up until this point it had felt fairly normal. Minus the large cash flow. Gerrard was simply Gerrard, but as she craned her neck back to take in the marvel that was this city's walls ... she couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to become something different all together.

"What ... are you, again?" She asked, her voice small as their horses eased forward a few excited steps.
 
"I hold no more formal titles here than 'distinguished guest' Audreyn. After losing my position at Elbion College certain parties in Vel'Anir have been trying to convince me to move here. I suspect some believe that my research could be used as a weapon against the city's enemies. I suspect other noble families just use mages as a..." he twirled one hand around idly, "...decoration. Like having a more modern garden than another noble, you can have more famous wizards working for you."
 
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"But people aren't decorations," she murmured, troubled. As they slowly inched further down the line, she found herself pressed by the entirely inopportune need to pee. Perhaps it was because she knew she couldn't... In fact, that was exactly it, she realized, squirming on her horse and gazing up at the walls getting ready to swallow them. That paired by the guards now in ear shot, interrogating each group as they ruffled through gear... Well, she was entirely uneasy as they continued to creep forward and were finally given their turn at the gate.

"State your business," the guard asked gruffly.

Audreyn paled and looked to Gerrard.
 
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"Gerrard Duvont!" called another voice. It was deep and round, with a note of amusement.

It belong to a round-faced man in fine clothes leaving the city on horse. He wore fine clothes that did their best to draw attention away from the belly trying to escape his belt. None of the guards bothered him and his small retinue of cloaked guards.

"What are you doing in the peasant queue?"

Gerrard turned and smiled, but Audreyn might have been around him long enough to see that the smile was forced. He found Pa Ostrand, - Baron Ostrand - a particularly tedious man.

"Lost my pass on the road. Heading out to ride off breakfast?" he asked. It was now past midday.

The guards very quickly moved aside to ignore this conversation and on to the next in the line.

"Cheeky bastard! The morning is not for people Gerrard, it's for the birds. Like I always say!"

"Like you always say," Gerrard muttered under his breath.

"What? Oh anyway, are you staying long?"

"For some time but..."

"Usual apartments? Excellent! I'll send a man with an invitation. Dinner party later this week, you can come as my guest."

"Well I..."

"Excellent!" bellowed the man, before spurring his horse and riding away. The captain of his little group of guards paused long enough to tip his cap towards them both before following.

"See?" said Gerrard. "Well at least we can skip the inspection now."
 
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Audreyn looked about in a whirl of motion, trying to catch sight of the man barreling away with a clamor of men around him.

"Who was that?" She breathed, catching her balance as her horse stepped over the threshold and brought them into the bustle of the main street of the city. The chaos of it once more took her breath away. She abruptly forgot about her need for the bathroom, eyes wide and jerky as she tried to take the whole bustle of people and jolting architecture in.

"Touched by the gods," she once again whispered under her breath.
 
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"Baron Ostrand. In a smaller town people might call him the fat baron, but you need to be more specific in Vel'Anir. By the grace of his birth he gets to spend his life drinking, sleeping, shagging and hunting."

Whilst he knew she was taking in the scale of the city, Gerrard was fairly certain that Pa Ostrand had been touched by something. It wasn't the Gods though.

People moved aside for them. They were well accustomed to nobles and wealthy merchants riding through the streets with reckless abandon.

"There is a stable near my apartments. I'll need to see Mrs Smytherton to get the key. If you thought that little crossroads town had a lot to see you should see the main market square here."



"Leave us."

There was a sickly scent in the air. The burning incense barely masked it, making the dark room even more dingy through the smoke clinging to the walls. It smelled of death.

Jard Peld wasn't dead. Not yet. The two healers, clad in white robes, stopped weaving their magic around his leg and hurried out of the room. A tall slender woman and squat, dark haired man moved aside from the entrance to let them pass.

Both had gaunt skin and sunken features. All magic had a cost. Using their skill to take lives over and over took a toll on the body.

"One of our agents reports Gerrard and your mark were seen entering Vel'Anir," the woman said.

"Likely seeking protection," added the man.

Jard croaked wordlessly. He swallowed and tried again, his voice faint. "We have someone there?"

"Only one, and of the first level."

"We don't send her after them both."

Jard balled his good hand up into a fist. Lifting his bald head up from the stained sheets had him physically shaking.

"We have to...get her away from him."

"We agree."

"We just think there may be other ways to achieve this."
 
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Her trepidation grew into a burst of excitement, a hesitant smile growing as she looked Gerrard's way. Who would have ever thought- her- about to stay inside fancy apartments with a mage in Vel Anir!

All at once she was wholey glad to have met this man. And all at once, she recalled why it had happened in the first place. Her expression faltered, pain lashing through her chest. She settled back into her saddle, face turning to stone as she locked away the pain and let her thoughts abruptly turn blank.

Another day, another time ... when she was another person, even. What she felt inside was to great to bare... to even understand... and if she let it out to air ...

Didn't Gerrard once mention fire coming to life when you blow air on it...? Like in a fire pit ... and if the fire is starved...

*Boom*, Echoed Gerrard's voice through her.

Yes, air feeds fire. Which was entirely why she could never let those emotions see the light of day.



She tightened her grip on her reigns, feeling the pinch from the burns on her hand, and rode silently onward.
 
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Gerrard didn't need to watch her closely to pick up changes in her demeanour any more. Even the slightly more subtle ones outside of them interacting directly. He had come to assume that the events of the last few weeks still affected her mood greatly.

It was about the most he had ever paid attention to someone else's feels. Yet he was still clueless on exactly how to deal with it.

"We will have to go and get some new clothes in the morning..." he offered.
 
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She nodded slowly, taking his lifeline and using it gratefully.

"Can... one of them be blue?" She had no idea the extent of what she was getting into with these clothings, no conception of just how intricate formal wear for the comfortable elite would be. At most she expected lace cuffs on her sleeves and a wedge under the heel of her shoe.

Suffice to say she had never seen anything finer in her life.

She forced the stiffness out of her shoulders, though her expression remained distant-- their surroundings passing buy unnoticed to her as guilt weighed down heavily.