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Madcat is offline
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Seattle, WA
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Elsewhere in the mansion...
"... so, you see, during the time of the Conjunction of the Spheres, the Words of Power were set down, crystallized, and writ upon the Aetherum so that all with eyes to see them might study them," Maestro Sicarus Jagged was saying, "And, through study, come to know these Words of Power, and take them into themselves, to become one with the Words, and through the Words, create what we, today, call magic."
Sicarus Jagged was not, by most standards, a tall man, or a particularly large man. Oh, he kept in shape, of course, and was ever so slightly on the higher side of "average" in height, but what he lacked in physical stature he more than made up for in presence. Today, he was dressed in a robe of deep crimson, open, but belted about the waist with a wide sash of ivory-hued satin trimmed in silver thread and set with small sapphires and polished pearls, with a midnight-blue tunic beneath, a gold and lapis-lazuil pectoral hanging from a thick gold chain around his neck. His breeches, like his robe, were of the finest silk, dyed so deeply black that light itself seemed to die in the folds, worn in the baggy style of distant Araby, with crimson, gold-trimmed slippers with upturned toes on his feet.
He paused in mid-lecture, one finger raised as if to highlight an important point, as the crack of lightning and a rumble of thunder rolled through the window. Odd, he thought, there should be no lightning on a day like this. He brushed the diestraction aside, and continued, "These Words of Power, passed down through the ages from master to apprentice, form the backbone of our practice of magic. One must know the Words to chant the spells, to invoke the rituals, to call forth the creatures from beyond by their true names, which are all set in the ancient words. So it is with spell-singing! Even though the Words are as yet unknown to you, they are write in the Aetherium, and still resonate with their power, undimmed from the distant past! In your Song, you tap into these Words, subconciously, and channel their energy through the force of your will, so that they may take shape as you desire..." He looked down at the white-haired girl sitting at the desk in the large room, her sapphire blue eyes wide and staring, incredulous, at him. Those very same eyes were also, he thought, rather devoid of any spark of genius.
He harrumphed and let his hand fall, "Or, at least, you will. One day. Maybe. I have seen your art in practice, random and unformed as it is, and I know that you have the gift of the spell-song... through what demented agency I have yet to divine, though I am beginning to suspect the Laughing God, or perhaps the Archons of Madness and Frivolty... but have the gift you most certainly do, dear girl, we need only get you to see the Words so that you might learn them! And, through learning them, learn their discipline, learn how to master your gift, make it truly your own, a power that you can call upon when the need arises!"
The white-haired, blue eyed girl sitting at the desk blinked. She looked down at the notes she'd begun taking during the lecture, wrinkling her nose at the lines that trailed off to the edges of the page, noticing that the information she contained was at least an hour past in the lecture, and she'd quite plainly already forgotten most of everything the Maestro had said in the intervening span. In fact, she wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about at this very second, she'd been distracted by... a sound, she thought, one she thought she had heard before, but couldn't quite place, and most definitely could not hope to repeat... but there had been a sound, and then, suddenly following it, the crackle of lightning and the roll of thunder from outside, somewhere very close outside.
"But, Maestro," Kyrael said, timidly, "What do the Words sound like? Would it not be easier to simply teach me the Words, as they are?" Even as she spoke, she heard, distantly, as if muffled and whispered, other unclear sounds, at the same time closer and yet infinitely more distant as the lightning had been.
Maestro Jagged shook his head, "I'm afraid not, girl. The Words of Power exist in all times, in all places, to all creatures with the eyes to see them, the minds to learn them, and the mouths to speak them. How they sound to our ears of lumpy, folded flesh is a... personal experience. It is said that no two practitioners of the Art ever hear them quite the same way. It's also said that all of the elder languages, from which are own are assuredly descended, were based upon them... but that is a lesson for another time. A... much later time." He sighed. If she remembered a tenth of the things he'd said in today's lecture, it would be a miracle.
Some sort of row was erupting in the courtyard, he could sense it. Magics and counter-magics being tossed about, though not in quick succession, and not, precisely, in balance to one another. Was Alakai teaching the other children wards and dispels? He knew not, and cared only little. He suspected that his current pupil, the spell-singer, could sense the spells being crafted as well, though differently than he did, but her skill with her art was so unfocused, so undisciplined that he was certain she could make neither heads nor tails of the threads being woven.
"For now, let's just worry about the basics, hmm? I want you to study Rimbeauchard's Treatise on the Words of Power, it's not a very long work, and be prepared to test on it by the end of the week. Also, don't forget to finish your paper on the colors of magic and the colors of space, and diagram their intersections, that's due three days hence."
He nodded as the girl dutifully wrote that down before folding the note in half and tucking it into the thin volume he'd instructed her to read. In truth, he expected her to read, perhaps, the foreword, and then get distracted with some other foolishness, as she was prone to do. A year and a half, now, she'd been studying here, and in that time she had managed to pass only a quarter of the expected lessons. Her family, or whatever account was funding her tuition here, must be very vast indeed.
There it was again! Another ripple of magic, like a handful of pebbles cast into a still pond, though these in rapid succession, a series of conjurations, and then a transmutation of the last conjuration? What on earth was going on down there?
He sighed and shook his head. "Go," he said, with a wave of his hand, "To your studies, or your chores or whatever else it is you have yet to do today. Remember, paper due in three days. Let's not have a repeat of the last time, hmm?"
The girl rose and curtsied, blushing at his reminder. Not yet half a week ago, she'd had another paper due for Maestro Jagged's lessons, but had completely forgotten about doing it. She'd started it, at least getting so far as to write the title of the assignment on a page of parchment, but, somehow, had never gotten any farther with the project. Her bottom tingled with the memory of the paddling she'd received.
"I won't, Maestro," she said, "I promise!" With that, she took up her books and hurried from the room, the Maestro's lecture hall, intent on getting started on her paper right away... oh, but maybe she should try to find out what all the lightning and thunder was about?
She paused at the top of the stairs, hearing voices in the chambers below. Master Alakai was speaking, though she couldn't tell to whom, but she guessed it was the other students, as she could make out something about going to the living room. Hmm, the living room... it might be a more comfortable area to start reading, at least...
With her fingers gliding gently along the bannister, she made her way down the turning stairs to the foyer, stopping short when she came round the last bend, surprised to find the room occupied by a pair of girls she did not at all recognize. This was, to say the least, rather surprising, for she had been here rather a long time, and thought she knew just about everybody. Including all of the gargoyles, by name, even those that didn't move or speak, though those she'd had to give names to, since they were so stony-silent all the time.
She paused, one toe still on the edge of the stair, her descent arrested as she was uncertain how to proceed. She looked to Brooke and Niryn uncertainly.
"Umm... hi." She said at last.
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