Fable - Ask The Scent of Lost Magic

[Kyril]

"Much more." He told her with a confident nod.

If he was right about what she had done in the bathroom, what she must have done to trigger the trap, then she would quickly outstrip anything that could be done with the Runes. Well, at least anything that he had seen done with them.

There was no telling until they tried of course, but Kyril would have bet the bag of gems she was carrying on it.

To her next question he simply smiled. "Far."

"Rune Magic was an idle curiosity." He knew he was bragging now, but he couldn't help the bit of ego that spiked through him. "But most of the magic I use is somatic."

Kyril gestured to his Tattos. "Hence these. They are where the majority of my spells come from. They're not Runes, not really. More like...channels, by which my magic can be cast."

 

[Neith]

Neith's brows rose, a shiver of excitement running down her spine at the thought that she might be powerful in some way. Her cheeks dimpled as she grinned at him, a roll of her eyes at his boasting, but her intrigue was obvious.

"Somatic?.." she repeated quietly, setting down her fork to shift closer to him, her brown eyes wandering over the tattoos..

"Can I learn this stuff?.." she asked with a quirk of a brow..

 

[Kyril]

"Body magic, for lack of a better term." He frowned for a brief moment, wondering how to best explain it.

"Some people have innate magic, like you." Kyril explained. "You can take and give magic, do that...thing you did to me back at the Manor."

That had been painful. "Dreadlords are especially known for this."

He presumed she had heard of Vel Anir's feared sorcerers.

"Some people, like me, are basically just magical wellsprings. We have a lot of power, but no natural way to express it." He motioned again to the tattoos. "Spells are a way of expressing it. The deeper the well, the more powerful the spells can be."

Kyril smiled. "I suspect, you could do both. I know some Dreadlords can as well."

He had met them.

"Your magic, has a way of expressing itself already, but there is no reason you couldn't use what you...take, for spells like these." For a second he paused. "Though again, that takes time. Our focus should be on your innate magic, at least to begin with."

If he could have heard himself, Kyril would have been embarrassed at how much he sounded like his father in that moment. The professor, the teacher.

 

[Neith]

Her skin paled at the mention of Dreadlords and she chewed gently on her lip. She knew that her ability caused tremendous pain, it was another thing that had made her useful to Cyrus and she didn't enjoy it in the slightest. She didn't particularly like the comparison..

"I see." she answered quietly, understanding how their magic differed, and she nodded as he made a plan to teach her. "Well. My mind is yours to mould, master." she pressed her hands together and bowed theatrically, amusement dancing like stars in her dark eyes.

It had been why her father had brought her to Elbion to begin with. To find someone who could teach her how to use her gifts properly, though it sadly hadn't worked out that way..

 

[Kyril]

Kyril chuckled with a shake of his head.

"I'm not much of a teacher." He knew quite a bit, more than some of the Maesters back in Elbion perhaps, but he'd never tried to impart that knowledge on anyone. A frown flickered over his features for a moment, a breath filling him.

"I'll do my best though." It was the least he could do for her. "You have an easy starting point at least."

Slowly the mage leaned back in his chair. "You already know how to use half your magic."

He chuckled, hand running through his hair.

"Let's start here." Kyril said as he motioned towards a blank piece of paper. "A concept known as 'auralism'."

As he began to explain the world around them faded slightly, the last few days of their traveling beginning to fade away into one long lesson of magic. By the time they reached Elbion Neith would find a small bit of understanding of her abilities, how she could more willingly call upon the magic she carried.

Though it would be only a fraction of what she could do.

 

[Neith]

Neith was drawing different runes and scribbling some rough notes next to them when she heard the acting Captain call for the crew to make the ship ready for docking. She looked up, her gaze shifting between Kyril and the door which had been barred shut and stayed that way other than when she was accepting food from a nervous deck hand.

She got to her feet to go to the small porthole and Rock hopped up onto her shoulder. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting it's warm glow over her face and silhouetting Elbion against a burnt orange and lilac backdrop. She wondered if it would ever feel like home to her..

As difficult as their journey had begun, she had come to enjoy her lessons and Kyril's company. He certainly looked a far sight better than he had done on the first few nights of their voyage. "Well.." she sighed, her shoulders sagging as she turned to look over her shoulder at him.

"Moment of truth, I guess.." her lips twisted uncertainly. The crew had stayed out of their way, and they'd remained tucked away in their cabin, but she wasn't at all certain that they hadn't planned some sort of ambush upon docking in Elbion. They seemed terrified of them, but terrified men done terrible things..

 

[Kyril]

Kyril stared out the window for a few quiet moments, barely realizing that Neith was there at all. A small frown touched his lips. "I didn't realize how much I missed..."

His voice trailed off quietly as he shook his head.

It didn't matter.

He knew what he was coming back to, knew what he was walking towards. Prison. Rejection. Pain. A different sort of pain than what he had been suffering through on the ship, but a pain nonetheless. A breath slowly drew into his lungs and he looked towards Neith.

"Guess it is." He said as he flexed his fingers.

As the days had passed and Neith had practiced, Kyril himself had done his best to 'flex' the circuits of magic running through his body. He could still only manage a trickle, a few flashy tricks and meager spells, but it was more than he could have managed on his own even weeks ago.

Progress. Slow, but steady.

His hand drew up, pulling the hood over his face. "Lets go."

The Mage said as he helped Neith pull the door open.

Outside stood no one. Not a single member of the crew. In fact, as they made their way to the top deck of the ship Kyril could hear scurrying steps move away, as if they were actively being avoided. By the time they reached the deck not a single sailor had appeared, and the first person they saw was the very same Neith had last threatened.

He stood awkwardly by the gangplank, his hands rubbing together nervously. He looked at the two passengers, skin pale, eyes never even glancing up.

"I...uhh...please just get off the ship."​

The man said quietly, clearing his throat.

"We don't want no trouble..."​

Kyril looked over at Neith. Had only the Captain worked for Cyril? No, unlikely. These men were just cowards, and the moments the two of them disembarked they would surely run to the crime boss and tell them every detail they could.

 

[Neith]

She had packed all of their things in the morning, but she rolled up the parchments she'd been working on and stowed them inside her jacket, and triple checked that the bag of gemstones was still safe, and patted it on the way out of the door.

She edged out onto the deck hesitantly, sticking close to Kyril, though it was far too calm for her liking. "No we'd rather stay." she commented sarcastically with a roll of her eyes and gave Kyril a nudge toward the gangplank, a few of the men stepping back to clear their path.

"Thank you. It's been a pleasure." she commented dryly, keeping her bag close as she eyed the men in scrutiny.

 

[Kyril]

Kyril's fingers flickered slightly as they walked down the gangplank.

Below them the city of Elbion was already rushing around, the dusk not slowing even a second of everything that was going on. Women and men were briskly walking around the docks, some loading ships, others simply carrying goods from one place to another.

As Neith and Kyril stepped onto the heavy wooden dock the Mage flicked his finger. There was a sudden gust of air, and the gangplank behind them suddenly went sliding off the pier. There was a splash, and a quiet yelp of surprise from the ship as the wood slipped.

A smile touched Kyril's lips, but his steps never slowed as he moved towards the city proper. "Suppose this is where we part ways."

He said quietly, a small tinge of sadness ot his tone.

"We're back and..." Well, what else was there to say? His debt was paid. She had her affairs to attend to, and he...he was destined for a cell.

 

[Neith]

Neith glanced behind them at the sound of a splash and she looked to Kyril, smirking as she caught the smile on his lips, but the smirk faded as he spoke. She frowned and gave a stiff nod.. In the past few weeks they'd both almost died and seen one another at their absolute worst, but they'd both worked through something together and separately.

She swallowed and stepped into him, her arms wrapping around him in a tight hug that she held. "You don't need to do this, Ky." she reminded in a quiet grumble.

 

[Kyril]

Kyril stood for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around Neith.

"Yes I do." He said softly as he embraced her. His head lowered for a moment, chest slowly rising and falling.

The Mage didn't want to do this. There were a thousand things he would have preferred. Yet something in his soul told him he needed to go home. He needed to speak to his father, confront him. It was the only way this would be okay.

The only way it would feel right. Even if it did end up with him in prison.

"I have to see my father." He told her quietly. "After that?"

Who knew what would happen.

 

[Neith]

Neith frowned, her shoulders slumping in a sigh at his argument, but she understood and so gave a reluctant nod against his chest before looking up at him with a small smile.

"After that, you promised me more lessons." her slender brow arched, mischief dancing in her gaze. "So I suppose, if you do wind up in a cell, we're just gonna have to figure out a way of gettin' you out." she shrugged nonchalantly and stepped back from him.

"I'll see you soon?" she asked, her head tilting as she shifted her bag on her shoulder and cast a glance to Rok, waiting patiently on an awning nearby.

 

[Kyril]

"Or you could just visit, Elbion allows that you know." Kyril would have been surprised if she did know. From Neith's world visitors likely weren't allowed, but from his? The idea of him rotting alone in a cell was all but unheard of.

He might have been an addict, but he was still of means. The son of a Maestar of Elbion who had made a reputation of his own.

Pulling away from her he glanced at the bag on her shoulder for a moment and then nodded his head. Fingers tightened for a few seconds, and then he responded. "I'll see you."

Though he didn't know if it would be soon.

 

[Neith]

Neith's brows rose. "Oh.." her head tilted, a ghost of a smirk on her lips. "I guess I'll visit then." she nodded and jerked her chin toward the cawing raven. "He'll find you, wherever you end up." she smiled weakly.

"Thanks Ky.. You saved my life with this." she shrugged in gesture to the bag. "Good luck with your father.." she sighed and stepped back, giving a wriggle of her fingers in a wave as she turned on her heels and whistled to Rok who swooped from his perch to follow her stride through the streets.

 

[Kyril]

Kyril stood there on the dock for a moment, watching the Raven as it flew after Neith. A frown touched his lips as he considered, and then he turned on his heel.

He knew exactly where he was going, knew exactly what he had to do.

A breath filled his lungs, and as he began his journey across town he could feel the weight on his shoulders grow heavier and heavier with each passing step. He thought a few times about turning around, about simply walking away and leaving Elbion.

Yet he never moved from his path. It would have been easier, it would have been simple to run, but it wasn't his way. He had to tell his father, look him in the eye. Fingers tightened as he turned the final corner towards the College, as he moved into the path of his fathers home.

The gate to the manor was closed, no surprise, but no guards stood outside.

Lips thinned for a moment at the oddity, and slowly he stepped up towards it. His fingers wrapped around the wrought iron.

"Oh you won't be gettin nothin from there, dearie."​

His head snapped towards a woman standing nearby, she was holding a small satchel of groceries. "I'm sorry?"

"If you're lookin for the professor, I'm afraid I have some bad news..."​

Lips thinned.

"What...what do you mean?" Kyril asked softly.

"Well...he passed...no, no that's not right to say. He was killed, about three days passed."​