[Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

The story unfolds around Osaka, Japan, with the unlocking of one girl's hidden potential, and a gathering of Young mages whom are destined to change the fate of the Earth.
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Kokuten
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[Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Post by Kokuten »

Elementalia Magicus
Sprigganwald
The Fallen Platform


The withered effigy's glowing eyes seem to marvel at the offer made to it, a mere bird. Yellowing light on its visage moved, searching their faces. Rain fell hard upon their shoulders, washing off the mud of combat, the scrapes of a miserable skirmish. The downpour filled their ears with a sound like a passing crowd. Magic hung heavy over their senses, a thick perfume, an odor sensed in their skin and eyes.

"All of my life, I lived in fear of my power, and the lack there of," the construct took Laoise in his care, branches curling around her white frame. "I feared for so long that I let a sickness take over my entire being. Skirting trust. Barking at shadows. Concealing myself behind subterfuge. So afeared that I hid from all of this, hoping it would kill me first. Yet here you are, despite what stands before you."

In an affectionate turn, its head tilted forward, looking down on his precious responsibility. A pulsing luminescence began to spread over the effigy's form, webbing between the cracks of the barkskin.

"No more hiding."

Already disturbed, the ground around them began to rupture and shake. The spriggans were sent into a panic, gripping one another as the volatile world began to move again. Laoise erupted, her form giving way to a burning fire. With careful concentration the effigy crushed the blaze into its hands, shaping it against its heart. Ropes of lightning whipped from branching fissures in the soil, leaves that decorated the wooden creature's body fell, browned and crackling. The weight of a realm's magic was being forced into one, singular spot.

The distant world began to shift, mountains began to move, and a massive dome began to grow in the landscape. Brilliant sparking at its center hinted at an immense potency. The beacon could be seen at the distance of miles, so much so that it lit the presence of a shaking town in the path to the edifice, despite the growing gloom of the evening. A blackened figure began to melt over glow, as if attempting to hide its suddenly revealed treasure.

Around them, the instability brought up things buried by conflict, by time. A cracked sphere, worn in Zulan's colors was exposed at the edge of the platform. Littered not too far from it were Sorrow's still-smoking wand, and the rune-gauntlet of Doubt.

When the world stopped moving, and silent night returned, a small tree stood in the place of the tall Spriggan. Its arms had become a singular branch, its fingers a nest with a white dove perched within, her eyes drawn to the dome.
Last edited by Kokuten on Tue Mar 12, 2019 8:13 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Straken
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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The first battle of the second Elementalia Magicus incursion had raged for only a few minutes, but Ruarc already felt withered. Despite his best efforts, he could feel a raw emptiness in his chest. As he held out his fallen familiar a slight tremble was present in his hands, and it wasn't until the spriggan took Laoise that he realized his hand had gone numb. Withdrawing and clenching it tightly within his cloak, the druid looked on as the entity in front of him spoke further. Once it had concluded, he had no time to comment as the world around him began to shift.

Ruarc had braced himself, and to the Druid's alarm Laoise suddenly took the form of a fiery phoenix. Unable to react, the Irishman was witness to magics beyond his understanding. When everything finally settled down, he surveyed the scene before him. Whatever may have changed around him, his eyes were locked on where the spriggan had stood. At first he thought that his eyes were betraying him, but then he felt the change. The hollow chill Laoise's death had left in his chest was replaced with a hot ember. Edging his way forward, he drew closer to the dove.

"Laoise?" Ruarc asked with slight hesitation.

"That was very uncomfortable," Laoise said plainly. She then fluttered her way onto the druid's shoulder, and nestled in to the nape of his neck.

Turning back to the rest of the group almost as if remembering they were there the whole time, Ruarc flicked his thumb over his shoulder towards the dome. "Sorry about the delay. Let's get moving, shall we?"
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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Jane observed the shift of things with a neutral, studious expression. Inwardly, however, she wondered just how deeply she had plunged this time. After their first skirmish they'd nearly lost two of their number. Before the specter of doubt could begin to form, the cowgirl cleared her mind with a ritual.

Each hand drew Lightning, spun it with nimble grace, then dumped the empty shells with a soft whizzing of spinning metal. Expert fingers refilled the empty cylinders before they were snapped back into place with a practiced flick of the wrist. The Lightnings returned to their holsters, and her focus was renewed.

A faint smile crossed her lips at the sight of the phoenix on Ruarc's shoulder. See? No need fer doubt. We have the right o thangs.

"Yes, let's." She cocked her head toward Eryl. "Ye ready, Mizz Maelgwyn?"
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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Riley's attention had been sheered away from the activity surrounding her friends before she could even witness Ruarc and Laoise's reunion. The small, gnarled and twisted part of her that was doubt - the part that she had just recently turned into everything - had yawned and barked and tugged as soon as the runed gauntlet that mirrored itself had been unearthed.

It was important. It was a child that couldn't be left alone. It was a master artist that just needed to lay hands upon suitable tools.

A hand clapped down onto the stage magician's shoulder and Riley felt her stomach turn with anxiety and fire as the contact broke her from her reverie. Turning her head, the young woman was looking towards the half of her clone's face that wasn't covered by her black half-mask. The clone had her one exposed eyebrow lifted in wry judgement. With the heat across her gut subsiding, Riley now instead felt a bloom of heat conqueror it's way across her cheeks. As the stage magician's embarrassment rose it turned and squashed down the sliver of doubt that has been reaching out towards the gauntlet.

"Right." Riley whispered to herself quietly before turning her attention back towards the group. Jane and Ruarc looked as if they were preparing themselves to move out so the stage magician coughed theatrically to get everyone's attention.

"I somewhat doub-" Another burst of heat spread through the young magician's gut as she cut the word she was about to say off before her mouth could finish uttering it. "th- I think that we shouldn't be leaving artifacts from our battle out and uncontained as simply as Jane leaves shell casings all about." Nodding in the direction of the Orb, the Wand, and the Gauntlet, Riley snapped her fingers and brought forth a blob of the white material she used to make her masks floating above her hand. "Normally I'd just drain anything like this left to me dry of its mana, but-" The stage magician let the substance she had conjured wink out of existence as she shrugged and then crossed her arms, one finger of her left hand tapping against her elbow. "-divinities and their interpretations of how and what rules work aren't really in my purview."
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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"Dear cavalier, I am... unwell..." Eryl carried herself with as much resolve as one could, before a shaking leg brought her down to a weakened knee. "I think I need... ...need to rest."

Knowing what this meant, the wounded witch cast her eyes down to the ground. The stardust bomb gave off a gloomy shine between her fingers, especially as she clutched it to her chest. "It is best if you leave me; take the ... Miss Alstad has the right of it. Add them, the relics and this, to your armory."

Doubt's grenade was offered up to Jane in answer to her concerned look.

The forest began to rattle with the howls of creatures in the night, and the rising moon gave light to a path that cut through the forest towards their goal. As the great shift had settled, nature returned to the hunt, and the winds carried their lazy song over the poisoned trees.

Three relics lay aside, foul reminders, but freely available ones. The gauntlet looked as though it could fit a fair amount of hands, but it lacked the runes that Doubt used to cast her ill-gotten magicks. Black and elegant, Sorrow's wand looked like a glittering mace as the smoke cleared of its shaft. The Orb, however, was less appealing in looks; a waist high object that looked as though it had a seam that ran around its circumference, not a part of cracks that seemed evident of wear and tear.
Last edited by Kokuten on Tue Mar 12, 2019 8:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Post by Mr. Blackbird Lore »

Jane frowned, but took the grenade and absentmindedly placed it in one of the saddlebags strapped to No Name before helping her friend to her feet. "We'll do no such thing, Mizz Maelgwyn. Ye think ye'll be safe alone in here? Call me Doubt cuz I don't think there's a snowball's chance in Arizona that ye'll persist on yer lonesome."

Before Eryl could protest, Jane scooped the smaller woman up in gentle arms and seated her atop the saddle. "He'll keep ye mobile. Safe." She stroked the horse affectionately. As for the relics...

"I'm really not of a mind t use em. Honest on my grave, I think I'd rather see em dusted... But we'll likely need the extra strength." She hated to admit such a thing, but Jane's integrity could not be swayed, even by her own desires.
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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Scanning back over the other members of the group, and his attention was drawn once more to the leftovers from the fight. Like Jane, he wasn't partial to using tools manufactured by the enemy; even if they had once been allies. The only inclination he had for what the relics could do was what had been observed during the previous conflict, and not much beyond that. The one that caught his eye first and foremost was the gauntlet. It had been used by Doubt, but Ruarc had been focused on Sorrow. From what he picked up from Laoise it had previously held runes during the battle, and Ruarc's mind immediately went to the team's previous foray to rescue Percy from nether realms. "Perhaps it is capable of manifesting runes?" the Druid pondered as he made his way to the relic and inspected it with his eye before cautiously picking it up. "Would explain why the runes that were on it are now gone."

With some tentative prods from his severely charred staff Ruarc picked up the gauntlet, and after making certain nothing would try to bite him inside the glove he slid it onto his hand; ready to remove it at a moment's notice if it seemed hazardous in any way.
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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When the vial was plucked from her hand, a resigned look fell over Eryl's face, with an understanding smile. She almost had time to put her hand down, before it was tugging her back up. There was an unsteady balance in her stance, and she barely had time to react to the horse before she felt her feet leave the ground. Her boots began to kick the moment she realized she was being carried.

"Lady Smi-- This is hardl-- I will be fine... I-- Ough!" said Eryl, flustered as she was lifted, three eyes seeking justice in Jane's face, "My... My goodness."

The crippled Mage was set on the horse, and she clutched her staff with both hands. She looked a bit embarrassed at how quickly she had been righted from the dramatic declaration she made just seconds before. "You are... quite robust. Thank you."

As the blackened triclops' reddened face began to fade, Ruarc made his grab for the glove.

Fine brown leather had been carefully sewn together to fit the garment in its shape. Embedded on the back of the palm was a crest, a tarnished iron with indentions over the knuckles. A closer look showed that there was silver-dust pressed in lines to the fingertips, and a small inscription was marked at the wrist in welsh.

"Beware: The Palm does not spit out what it feeds upon."

Ruarc's hand fit it well, as the leather gently grew to accommodate his larger size. Nothing reacted on the artifact as he pulled it on, but instead there was a sharp gust of wind. The sensation of a hand pressing to his back seemed to push forward, and then through him as the Elementalia Magicus began to feed into him and then into the gauntlet.

The aura pulled something from the glove, a small figure that grew in size and cast itself away onto the ground in front of him. In a lump there lay a familiar shape nestled under a canopy of blonde hair, a pair of thick glasses inches away from their resting face. It was dressed in a white a red robe, its chest rising and falling shallow breaths.

Tulan, the studious, miniature guardian lay comatose before them.
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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with everything calm for a moment, aside from the sounds coming from the surrounding forest, Miyuki was able to calm herself again. Trying to think clearly, she looked over the three relics, as well as the weapon that had burst forth from her own body during the battle, trying to see if there could be any relation. she was hesitant to touch any of them, letting the sturdy Ruarc take the first stab it it and don the glove, which she was astonished to find gave forth the true form of one of their former allies turned enemies, although she was not conscious at the time. oh my- is that- is that Tulan? The shadow of doubt has been cast off. perhaps, I should-" she began, taking the staff that she had borne during the battle and making it fast by her waist, she stepped forward and took hold of Sorrow's mace-like wand. "With doubt gone, and clear heads, sorrow shall no longer be an enemy," the young woman declared, hefting it off the ground and holding it aloft, to see if it's now-clearing form revealed any more secrets.
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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

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On closer inspection of the tool, Miyuki found that Maelstrom appeared very similar in craft and make as the silvered wand she had pulled from her own wound. The moment her fingers touched the shaft, the dark iron began to peel off like birch bark, revealing a similar silvered finish. With no battle going on in the background, she was able to appreciate the love and craftsmanship that went into its creation. Holding it aloft, the moonlight reflected an inscription that read in Welsh:

"These hands shall never wield a sword,"

A growing thrum began to emanate from the wand at the Ice Queen's hip, and as if called upward, it rose from its fastened position. In a gentle float, it positioned itself to make the form of a staff at the base of Maelstrom, and in that same moment, the inscription was completed.

"for I have no use for such power."

"The Arctic Key," hoarsely whispered Eryl, her three eyes locking onto the scene playing before them. Like before, a surge of energy pressed through Miyuki, and through the tool as the gems reshaped at the head, three shattered moons revolving an ice-burst orb. A plume of freezing air burst from the gems, the haze falling over the cracked orb.

It condensed, forming a small body, sheathed in a blue robe and and a midnight shawl. A head of bobbing yellow hair framed the face, one that was easy to recognize as Zulan. Once she had formed, the glowing symbols of the Elementalia Magicus formed on her and Tulan's forehead, but only for a moment before melting away. The two miniature guardians lay unmoving still.

All that remained was the hollow orb.
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