Private Tales Light After Dark

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"No," Gerrard agreed. "Hadn't told you how to. Admittedly all I was going to tell you was to imagine that heat in the palm of your hand which your mind probably joined up on its own."

He placed his own left hand underneath hers and then tapped in the centre of her palm with his right.

"Relax, if your force it you're likely to draw too deep. That heat in the furnace isn't real heat. It's not fire. It's energy. Let just a little flow out, then think of real heat, real fire right here in your hand. Then speak: zera ignea."
 
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She took another steadying breath, squeezing her hand into a ball for a moment before forcing herself to relax it back open. "Right. Heat. Right."

Her hand slowly stopped quaking against his, his presence grounding.

Another deep breath, it coming easier now.


He'd feel the budding presence of energy around her hand, soft yet strong as she relaxed into it. "Zera ignea."

A ball of fire formed inside her palm, the heat gentle and warming in the brisk winter air. She gasped, trying to jerk back, but his hand under hers kept her in place.

"I really am a mage?" She stated, as if it was still up for debate until this point.
 
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"No stupid questions. Focus."

He leaned back, eyes on the globe. Flames licked around the curve of the globe as it slowly swirled above her palm. When some threatened to escape his right hand snapped out. An iridescence pane shimmered before his hand and kept the shape of the globe.

"Think about the outside of the ball now, feel it trying to escape. Hold it there, press back and keep its shape."

He very slowly took his left hand out from underneath hers. The next step would be throwing it and he really didn't want to be in front of her at that moment. More than likely it would dissipate a few feet away from her but that was plenty of distance to set his clothes on fire.
 
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She grimaced, more mentally taxed in this moment than a farm girl had ever had cause to be before. "I'm... trying. It has a mind of its own," she hissed, the flames lashing out in an attempt to jump free and spread.

With time, the shape began to hold steady. And a vein of exertion throbbed in her temple. "What'dyoudoing?" She protested when he pulled away, glancing a touch wildly at him before reigning herself back in to keep the ball of fire on task. But barely. Power was not an issue to her, but control was as hard earned as any other fresh mage out there.

A flame lashed out before she gritted her teeth and made the ball regain its shape, a slightly panicked look to her.
 
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Gerrard stepped back and prepared to encase the ball of fire within a protective sphere. She hadn't filled it with enough heat to really do serious damage, however it would probably burn her palm and remove her eyebrows.

"That control you feel yourself using to keep it contained. When I say press that down hard from your side. Look towards the stream, picture the fireball going towards it."

Gerrard stepped out of the line between her and the stream. "Now."
 
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She cried out, so desperate to rid herself of the fire she didn't care how frightening it was to try and throw it. In a manner that could only be described as instinctual, the girl found herself clamping down on her control of the magic and tossing it with remarkable precision directly into the stream.

The fire held steady, the ball kept its shape. The power dispersed in a hissing splash of steam and flash-boiled water. She panted, shoulders rounding in in a wave of fatigue.

"Like-like that?" She asked, her voice suggestion he better say yes or she might just flop over in protest.
 
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"Exactly!" he said, looking pleased with her work. She had talent. Even repressed for all this time. It normally took a novice an entire day just to make a lick of flame.

The smile vanished, the gleam in his eyes went away. "Now do that ten more times."
 
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Her mouth fell open.

Her protests were evident, but unspoken, the girl half torn between telling him to shove it, and obeying for the sake of protecting herself from another episode.

Her she gaped like a fish out of water, reeling in place, before begrudgingly pulling another lick of flame into her hand.

"You are crazy."

But she did it. Time and time again, her control eroding with each go, until she was panting and struggling to even summon a flame at all.

By the tenth time, nothing would come. She looked pale and weak on her feet, exhaustion set heavily under her eyes. "I c-can't," she practically pleaded, her outstretched hand shaking as it failed to summon any heat to it. It wasn't as if none existed inside of her. It was still there, an ember that could no longer be shared.
 
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"If you can't, then stop," he said plainly. Despite what she might have thought he wasn't doing this to punish her. A blanket of steam now lingered over the water where her constructs had fallen.

"That's better than most students I have ever taught the skill to," he told her bluntly. He brought his two hands up, palms down.

"The problem is your power far outstrips your control." He brought one hand up above the other. "It needs to be the other way around." His hands switched position.

"Hopefully you found that link between the furnace in your heart and the flame in your head. The methods of control you need to establish for each are not that dissimilar. You start with a sphere..."

Gerrard took two steps back. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. His left arm shot out straight, fingers drawing something intricate in the air. With his other arm he kept drawing a wide circle. The air within the circle shimmered and then burst into flames.

The visage of a dragon, only a few feet in length leapt from the circle. It rippled through the air before stretching its wings and coming to hover before them. It bobbed in the air with each flap of its wings, warmth flowing over Audreyn to each beat. It turned its head towards her, peering at her with hollow eyes.
 
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Audreyn looked on with a forlorn expression, knowing in her gut he'd ask her to do that one day and dreading the effort it must require. For an display meant to inspire and impressed, the student looked particularly dishearten underneath it.

She eyed it for a moment longer before turning to Gerrard, asking wearily, "But why would I want to summon a lizard with wings?"
 
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For the first time she would see him look genuinely disheartened by something she had said. The dragon flapped its wings once and fell into a thousand tiny flames that dissapated as they fell.

"What ambitions do you have in life Audreyn?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
 
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A tension formed in her body, replacing the tired slouch as he crossed his arms before her.

She straightened, a little more alert as he spoke to her next.

Immediately, she gained a deer in headlight look. Her eyes flickered back and forth over his expression. She didn’t move, she likewise didn’t answer. Comprehension was not dawning her face, ambitions a word too big for her.

And most frustratingly, he got no answer. And most unnerving for her, she just froze there, his change in demeanor and her lack of answer locking her down and building up this strange sense of fear of letting him down.
 
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"You can...think about the question on the road?" he asked. This was clearly not a reaction he had planned to deal with. His hands fell to his side. He was clearly a tad frustrated by her lack of response. Still, it wasn't in his nature to display patience so he kept talking.

"It's a case of what you want to achieve with your magic. If all you can imagine doing with it, is locking it away... Then we will work on that and we will find you a new village to live in."
 
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Understanding sparked across her face in an unspoken 'oh'. She frowned, realizing even then she didn't have an answer for him. She didn't know what she wanted. She could barely think past each hour, never mind day or month or year. She couldn't picture her future at all.

She had no clue what ambitions she had.

She knew what she had. But she had grieved the loss of them days ago. She nodded minutely, looking troubled.

"I ... want my parents killer dead?" She offered. "I... assume that will require magic?" She asked, still not entirely committed to the idea of using it despite this desire.

Seemed like she had a choice to make.
 
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Gerrard pursed his lips, not taking that steely gaze away from her. With a sigh he dropped his eyes and stared at the toes of his own boots.

The girl had watched her parents die just days ago. It wasn't fair to push her for an answer. His frustrations had got the better of him and it wasn't fair to judge everyone by his own standards, even though he almost always did.

"You don't have to answer right away, but give it some thought." It wasn't really any form of an apology, but it was as good as she was going to get.
 
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She nodded mutely, shutting down in that way she did when the grief came forward and she was left fighting to keep it from her face.

"I'm... going to fetch fire for the wood," she mumbled, taking a step away from the moment.

"I mean- wood for the fire." She shook her head, too distracted too care. "Maybe after you can tell me about-" she gestured vaguely, a noncommittal peace offering as she was already half gone and pushing through the trees.

She would be gone longer than would be needed for wood gathering. But she would return.
 
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Gerrard dragged his hands down his face, fingertips tugging at his eyelids and lips. He watched her leave and then turned away, shaking his head.

"This is why they didn't let you teach much," he told himself. The very worst part of himself suggested that if he got on his horse and rode away then she would no longer be his problem.

He didn't have the heart to do so. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he hadn't planned on making camp yet. They would stop, find some food, get some sleep. And he would have a word with himself about being less callous with a woman who had lost everything in her life.
 
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It wasn't until she was sitting before a fire with a full stomach and a recuperating rear that her quiet demeanor began to melt away again, the girl always eager to not linger on her dark thoughts.

She looked up at him, unconsciously sniffled back a dripping nose, and tilted her head curiously. "...Where do you come from, anyway? What's it... what's it like?"
 
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"I was at the Duvont Estate East of Elbion. Its a lovely house with some spectacular grounds."

Gerrard had no shame in where he came from. Why would he? What he called a house, she might have assumed was a castle. There were twelve bedrooms and it had an entire town within the grounds.

"I studied at the College of Elbion for eight years. The city was a little smaller when I first went there, but not by much. Many thousands of people live there and the college is..." Gerrard paused as he tried to think what he could compare it to in scale.

"It has six levels and the tallest spire is probably about as high as the biggest cliffs you'll get around here. The city is a little crowded, but its built up against the mountainside so you always have a view of the ship's coming in to port."
 
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Her eyes bulged. His descriptions overwhelmed her, not a single one of them something she could place or imagine. Her mind reeled, catching on details that fascinated her and discarding the rest. One thing in particular rang through her thoughts, an implausible situration that demanded answers.

"Thousands of people?" She echoed. "But... that's a lot of shit."
 
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"Yes it is and they haven't exact put in place the best sewer system. A lot of the the poorest carry buckets to the streams that run through the city. Some are lucky enough to have a cesspit behind their house.

"It's actually someone's job to empty them all. Well, not one person. A lot of well paid people who tend to spend every evening scrubbing themselves - rather thoroughly I imagine - in the river."
 
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She crinkled her nose, pushing away the remnants of her food.

"Sounds like an utterly horrible place. You can't actually like to go there," she challenged, shaking her head.
 
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"Can't. Not any more! Stripped of my title, passed to my younger brother. Banned from the college and barred from entering the city of Elbion for life."

He held his arms out to his sides, an unapologetic grin across his face.

"We're going to a town now, not a city even though it does have a wall!"
 
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She looked a little relieved at the, her expression still crumpled in distaste. "I hope the place doesn't smell." Like shit. Because that's all she could imagine now.

She stretched out, putting another log in fire and stroking it stronger. The chill was bothering her, regardless of her heavy clothing. She missed the indoors.

"What will we do there?" She asked in a curious tone. "Do you.... suppose that's where he went?"
 
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"Won't smell any worse than farmlands," Gerrard said. He had always thought that animal farms smelled worse that urban streets. For the most part anyway, some of the rows of tiny houses were fairly unpleasant. Elbion had taken to taxing entire streets if they were not kept clean.

"I don't know where he might have gone," Gerrard admitted. "I doubt he'll have gone all the way to Elbion. I suspect wherever they have a building or operation in the area. That, or he is tracking us."
 
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