Fable - Ask The Scent of Lost Magic

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
He closed his eyes, a soft sigh of relief escaping him.

It wasn't for what she told him, that truth that slipped over her tongue. That...that he already knew. "I know."

Kyril let his eyes open, letting his gaze fall onto her with a soft nod. In his very core he believed that she wanted to see him through this. Maybe it was because she wanted a teacher for her magic, maybe it was because she cared.

The young mage didn't know, he just know that she cared for one reason or another.

That was enough.

"Thank you." He said softly. "For everything."
 
  • Cthuulove
Reactions: Neith
Her brows rose as she lifted her eyes to him, his thanks catching her a little off guard. "You're welcome." she cleared her throat, her lips twitching in a slightly awkward smile.

Neith had tried to help her father through his addictions, tried to help him build a better life for himself, for both of them and she'd failed. Perhaps, she hoped, she could finally do something right. Perhaps for all of the bad things she'd done, she could finally do a little good and save him from spiralling even further and winding up on the streets like she had.

She smiled weakly and dipped the cloth back into the water and wrung it out, gently cleaning at the dried blood around his toes. "Sorry about your foot.." she whispered hesitantly, looking over the bruising. When she was done cleaning it she'd wrap it tightly to prevent movement.
 
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"I've had worse." It was a lie.

Before he had met her it would have been safe to say that he'd never been injured much. His life had been filled with luxury and kindness, not the breaking of toes and ribs. It was funny in a way, though in that moment he failed to find the humor.

Still, a smile touched his lips. If only so that she could find some small amount of comfort in the expression.

He jerked slightly as she cleaned his toes, a tickle running through him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to resist the small, childlike giggle that forced it's way through his throat. "I'll have to repay the favor one day."

Kyril said quietly, looking over towards her.

He meant the words, though a part of him had no idea how he would ever repay her. The gems did not seem enough, even the tutelage of magic didn't seem to meet the debt.

At least not for him. Not after what he'd done to her.
 
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Neith's lips twisted as she strived to hold back the amusement at his ticklish feet, and as he spoke her brown eyes rose to find his with a soft frown. "You don't owe me anything...Your debts are more than paid." she nodded. Now she'd just have to find a way of hiding the rest from Cyrus.

She was quiet for a moment as she wrapped his wounds, idly chewing on her lip in thought before she spoke up again. "I hate that stuff, you know. What it does to people.. What it turns people into." she frowned and clenched her jaw as though to stop herself talking and she huffed instead.

"If I could stop giving it to people, I would." she murmured, guilt etched into her words as she pushed herself to her feet and tidied things away.
 
  • Bless
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"E-Everyone has a choice." Kyril said softly, still shivering.

He meant those words, knew that they were the truth. Admitting it was difficult, knowing it was even more so. He wanted someone to blame. He wanted to say that it was Cyrus' fault, that it was his father or someone else who had made him do it.

Ultimately though the responsibility lay with him, and Kyril knew that. "Y-You c-can stop n-now."

Kyril offered, glancing up at her for a moment.

That hunger still lingered within his core, that need. The echoes of that voice resounded in his head.

"J-just..." He breathed. "H-Have to get a-way from him."
 
Neith’s lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded at his words. “If it were as simple as that i’d have left years ago, but we had nothin’ and nowhere else to go, we wouldn’t have gotten far and we’d no doubt have ended up back in the same situation or worse.” she shrugged, and helped him back into bed.

She fed Rok a few scraps of meat and poured two cups of tea, setting one down on the table beside him. She eyed the coil of rope that hung on the wall and chewed anxiously on her lower lip. She really didn't want to tie him to the bedpost, but her hand drifted over her bruised throat subconsciously. He'd be spared any more injuries too, hopefully.

"Are you sure?.." she asked as she turned to him with a sigh.
 
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"Y-you have money n-now." The Mage offered quietly. "W-what else d-d-d-do you need?"

It was a genuine question. He wasn't exactly a criminal mastermind, didn't know how Cyril operated.

Kyril nodded his head slowly. "I-I'm sure."

The Mage could still feel that temptation, that yearning. He would not be able to control himself, and he was too weak to break through any sort of binding. The rope was the best and safest option.

Without hesitation he stuck out his wrists.

"D-don't untie me no matter what." He told her softly, then he paused for a moment, frowning. "Even if I b-beg."

It was the only way to make sure. The only way that he wouldn't hurt her again. This next part would be the worst of it. The pain would drive him to near madness, but...if he made it passed, then at least he would be through with it.

Kyril tried to smile at her, offering a nod.
 
"Courage?.." she laughed under her breath, wincing at the pain in her throat as she did. "He's not just going to let us go, and he has a fair reach." she shrugged with a sharp sigh, and pulled the rope from its hook.

She sat on the side of his bed and took his wrist gently to wrap the rope around it in a double loop... "I won't." she sighed eventually as she wrapped it around his other wrist and bound them both together, tightly enough that he wouldn't squirm free, and yet not enough to hurt him.

"You're almost through the worst of it, I think..." she forced a small smile, and shifted to pull the rope around the bed post to knot it tightly. "How's that?" she frowned.
 
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He tested the restraints, pulling against them with what meager strength he could summon.

His head tilted in a lazy nod. "G-good."

There was no doubt in his mind that the rope would hold him. Even through the spurts of strength that the cravings gave him, it was doubtful he had the muscles to rip through such bonds. His head lulled back again, a wave of tiredness coming with another ache of pain in his stomach.

"W-when you have better control of your m-magic." Kyril said quietly, his teeth chattering as he spoke. "T-Then?"

Why did this matter so much to him?

Kyril didn't know, but he thought it unfair that she was trapped. Neith deserved more than to peddle drugs, deserved more than a life under the yolk of someone like Cyrus.
 
Neith also wondered why it seemed to matter so much to him, but she offered an uncertain smile and shrugged a shoulder. "Perhaps, yes. If I learn how to use it.."

Once his tea had cooled she lifted it to his lips to encourage him to drink, hoping it would soothe him enough to dull the pain and help him rest. The hours seemed to pass so slowly at sea, without sight of land to see the journey progress. Just a vast expanse of blue in all directions.

She had no idea how long she'd spent sitting by the window before she fell asleep in her chair with Rok in her lap, but a cold chill from the open window roused her.
 
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"Y-y-you will." Kyril said softly as he took a sip of the tea, his head lulling back against the wall and eyes closing. His chest rose and fell in quick deep breaths, stomach and muscles hurting.

As he sat there he worked out why he cared so much. Why it mattered.

Perhaps it was because he didn't want her to end up like him. Not that she would take Lyrum, but that she would have a choice. That she didn't slip down that slippery path because of the circumstance that surrounded her. The others that looked over her and took away the decisions.

It was a silly notion, stupid even coming from him. Yet he could not deny it was there.

As he sat Kyril tried to focus on his own thoughts. He ran through a dozen different spells. The recipes for a hundred alchemical potions. Anything that he could think of to keep his mind off the pain. The voice returned again a few times, coaxing, asking him to strange Neith and take the Lyrum.

Yet each time he tried the binding fought against him. The first few times he struggled against their hold, tried to free himself, pushed against the rope. It got bad enough that they cut into his skin, causing him to bleed.

Eventually his energy gave out, and by the time Neith awoke Kyril was leaning against the wall as a blubbering mess. Sweat coated his skin and soaked into his clothes. His face looked hollow, and he muttered a dozen words a minute, each one as unintelligible as the last.
 
  • Stressed
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Neith's gaze narrowed in the dim light and sighed at the state of him. "Ky?.." she rumbled, her voice gritty with sleep, and she got up to approach him cautiously. He was still bound, but bleeding now. A muscle feathered in her jaw at the sight of blood and she groaned quietly, pouring some water from a jug both into the wash basin, and into a cup.

She sat on the edge of the bed and dipped some cloth into the water, squeezing before she reached it toward his clammy face as he rambled on unintelligibly.
 
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As soon as the cloth touched him Kyril suddenly snapped his head towards her.

His eyes were massive, the grayish blue hue of them having slipped into a soft pale glow. The Mage stared at her, searching, looking for something. It was almost as if his gaze would turn her to stone. His lips parted in a quiet whisper. "Siilen tarkhal lythari."

The words tumbled from his lips, and as he did so a bolt of lightning flashed outside the window.

A second later there was a deafening crack of thunder which resounded, the ship shaking slightly as it swayed within a storm. Shouts began to echo across the top deck, men yelling as the sound of rain began to pelt against the ship.

Kyril stared at Neith for a moment more, and then his eyes lowered.

Words continued to tumble from his lips, none meant for the ears of man.
 
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Her hand recoiled slightly as his attention snapped to her, her breath catching in her throat as those eyes stared at her like that.. Those words sent a shudder racing down her spine, and she jumped once at the lightening, and again at the thunder.

Neith pushed herself to her feet, feeling the ship lurch and creak under her feet. She moved to steady herself and returned her fearful gaze to Kyril. What had he done? How had he done it?

"Ky." she snapped, her fear laced into the name, an attempt to call back his sanity as he continued to mumble words she didn't understand, afraid of what they might do to the ship.
 
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His name, his nickname sounded in his ears.

It echoed within his skull, and like a man being drawn by a noose Kyril turned his head up. The subtle glow in his eyes disappeared, his head shaking slightly. Lips thinned, and he let out a pained groan. Pain lanced through every fiber of his being.

The mage doubled over, clutching at himself. "Fuck."

Kyril moaned quietly, his head coming up. His skin looked pale, his eyes sunken more so than usual. Sweat poured from him, and it was clear that the sickness was wracking him.

It took effort to even look around, to glance up at Neith.

Confusion pulled over his features.

"W-what?" He said as he looked around the cabin, as if he didn't recognize where he was.
 
  • Stressed
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The moment he looked up at her without that glow in his eyes she moved back toward him, reaching for his shoulders as he doubled over. "You're alright." she shuddered, taking up the cool, damp cloth to wipe at his brow.

"You weren't yourself. I, don't know what happened. But the storm." she glanced to the window. "You said something and, it came from nowhere." her head shook, unable to hide the fear in her voice, unsure if she'd realised quite who or what she was dealing with.

"I've never seen power like that before."
 
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The mage frowned for a moment, not quite recognizing her as she pushed him back and gently helped him stay upright. Lips thinned for a few brief moment, and then something dawned over his face. "Neith."

Her name was a haze in his mind, but her face, her face her remembered.

She had been kind to him, nice. Though there were points of...pain. He listened to her speak for a few moments, looking out the window where the storm was now beginning to rage.

"A spell." Kyril said weakly. "I must have..."

How long? It must have taken him hours to speak it, perhaps the whole night. It was only then that he noticed how dry his throat was, how parched his tongue felt.

Another crack of lightning, the splitting sound of thunder almost directly above them. Shit.
 
She frowned and nodded. "Yes. Neith." she answered, her brown eyes settling on his face with concern as she wiped at his sweat-soaked skin.

"You cast without knowing you were doing it?.." she asked as she reached for the cup of water and brought it to his lips. "Here, drink." she beckoned, flinching at the lightening that lit up the cabin again, the waves battering against the side of the ship.

"Can you stop it?..." she asked, hearing the men still shouting on deck.
 
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He slowly drank from the cup she offered, taking deep steady breath between sips.

His head shook slightly. "I-no...yes."

It was complicated. The storm had been summoned through a spell, and now that it was there...well getting rid of it wasn't exactly the same process. His head sank slightly pressing against her hand as the muscles in his neck seemed to give way.

A breath filled him.

"I..." Kyril sounded tired, sleepy, pained. "I don't know if I can concentrate long enough."

He said truthfully, his mind a haze.
 
She frowned as she held his head upright, encouraging him to drink some more and chewing on her lip at the worry of how bad this storm would be. It clearly hadn't been anticipated by the captain, given that it had come from nothing.

Neith near jumped out of her skin as a fist banged against the door, the voice of the disgruntled captain on the other side. "Is this your doing, girl?! Ent none of my crew can do this! That ent no ordinary storm!" he banged on the door again. "Make it stop right now or ye can go to the depths!"

Her heart pounded and she looked to Kyril, swallowing hard.
 
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He breathed quietly for a second, closing his eyes.

The sound of the captain's yelling seemed to make him flinch, his whole body tensing as he heard the man yell. He looked up at Neith, seeing the worry and concern crease on her face. Lips thinned, and a pang ran through his heart.

What could he do?

What could he do?

Kyril could hear his heart pounding. It thundered in his chest, echoing again and again in a steady thrum that drowned out even the sound of pouring rain. His thoughts ran wild, a dozen different solutions, then he reached up with his bound hands. "G-Get me a piece of paper."

He told Neith.

"And something to write with." The Wizard added. "Quickly."

He couldn't stop the storm, but he could do something else.
 
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"Girl open this fuckin' door!!" the Captain boomed as he battered against the door. Neith's heart pitched and she looked back at Kyril, nodding quickly at his words and rushing over to rummage in the bags she'd brought.

"I packed some of your parchment and quills..."

"GIRL!!" Another bang on the door, a foot this time. Neith flinched.

"Just a moment!!" she called back as she slammed the parchment down on the table by the bed and unstoppered the jar of ink, dipping the quill and pushing it into Kyril's hands.

"Quickly.."
 
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Kryil took the quill and with a shaky hand began to draw a figure.

It was a Rune, though not as intricate as those he had applied to the scrolls. He moved as quickly as he could, filling the parchment with the shape before quickly drawing another smaller one on the bottom corner. As he worked the captain continued to bang on the door, his anger clear.

"T-tell Captain it isn't y-you. Say he sailed i-into an elemental, storm elemental." He said with a shiver.

This was where it would be difficult. She would have to argue, but not lie. He had sailed into a storm.elemental, but it was one that Kyril had summoned onto them.

"This needs to go on the deck." He told her as he pointed at the large rune. "This on the mast."

Another finger jabbed at the smaller symbol. "It will pr-protect the ship."

That was the best he could do. At least in his current state.
 
"HOLD YER FUCKIN' HORSES!!" Neith screamed at the impatient Captain, sick of listening to the persistent banging on the door. To his credit, the man quieted.

She nodded to Kyril and took the parchment to throw the door open. The captain stood positively simmering with rage, his blade drawn and pointed at her. "Now you listen he--"

"No YOU listen." she barked, startling him and stepped forward, brushing his blade away with the back of her wrist and shoving the parchment against his chest.

"YOU sailed into a storm elemental, but WE will help you, since you asked so nicely!" she frowned and huffed. "Copy the large rune onto the deck, and the smaller one onto the mast. You're welcome!" she glared, daring him to argue with her.
 
  • Nervous
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The Captain stared at Neith, his body shaking as he tried to think of what to do next. Did he challenge her? Listen to her? Lips thinned and his face grew red with what might have been anger or embarrassement.

"Fuck me."

He growled.

"Fine! But you and I are going to talk about this, girlie. You better fucking believe."

The Captain clutched at the paper for a ment, scowling, then trying his best to look into the room in search of Kyril. When he couldn't look past Neith he frowned, and then let out an angry huff as he turned away.

Kyril waited for a moment, hearing as the man began to shout out a dozen different commands. It was barely audible through the storm and the ship itself, but the man did have quite the voice. "I-Im s-sorry."

The mage said quietly.

"T-think you'll have to gag me too." He smiled to show that it was meant as a joke. At least...in part.