#2007f0
3
0
1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Aug 31, 2015 2:45:55 GMT
She loved the library. A refuge from the world, it was... peaceful, sitting among the vast stores of knowledge from others' minds. The words of those long gone didn't care who she was, didn't pry into her life and spit out empty pity. They only spoke, on and on, talking about everything the imagination could conjure. Even if she didn't listen. But she did, holding on to every thought as if her life depended on what they said. Because, one day, it might.
Dim rays of light shone down into the folds of shelves where the medic now sat. Deep in the bowels of the tomes, it was a secluded place, the lower levels of the expansive library. Where the old books resided. Erin, gaze deep in the text of a long dead healer, seemed to almost meld into the air. The robes of mourning she wore often had that effect. It was an aspect she enjoyed, to vanish in plain sight. As it was, though, it only contrasted her, the chair where she was seated a light brown, so different from the dark bindings of the books, the deep mahogany of the shelves and table. It alone seemed light, as even the cheery tranquility of peace gave way to a dreary quiet. Not but one sound broke the sanctity of silence; the occasional turning of a page sent a rasp that rippled through the aisles.
The Secrets of Regeneration. That was the name of the book, its title still marred by dust. Erin knew that it had likely remained untouched for possibly a decade. Hopefully longer. It meant that, possibly, modern healers remained ignorant of its secrets. That, just maybe, it contained arcana to bring one from the brink of death, knowledge that could have saved Daniel... had she known it. Her fingers went to her cheek for a moment, feeling for tears. She didn't want to ruin the book. Not anymore, at least. Four thousand and eighty-three years had done enough. As it was, some pages were difficult to decipher. Yet no sign of sorrow showed in her eyes. It had been only a week. Surely...
She let the train of thought die, hand lowering to pick up a small sheet of wood. A bookmark. Slow, deliberate hands placed it in the crease between pages, and slower still, they closed the tome. For a moment, Erin simply stared at the cover, deep breathes preparing her. It was almost ceremonious, the way she placed the piece of literature on the stack of others. A gentle push moved her legs from under the table, the sound of the chair scrapping the floor soft yet loud, and, very deliberately, she stood from her seat. She was scared... but it had to be done. So she could grow. So she could learn...
A deep sigh escaped her lips, eyes closing as her right hand slipped into the fold of her robes. As she felt it, the coarse texture meeting her fingertips, brows furrowed, and slowly, steadily, her fingers wrapped around the grip. The dagger she pulled forth was still sharp from the day of the murder. As Daniel had always kept it. For just a moment, she stared at the heirloom, her feet carrying her away from the table, towards the middle of the aisle. And there, she stood, dagger gripped in her right hand as she held the arm out in front of her. Shaking fingers gripped the right sleeve of her robes, and cloth caressed skin as her free hand pulled it back, until the folds of material reached her elbow. Her motions never fumbled though, as she moved the dagger to her left hand, gripping it backwards. Steeled and ready, Erin didn't even blink as she held the cold point to her flesh, her forearm turned up as she began to process.
The sting as the tip pierced her arm was enough to set her teeth on edge. Only by will alone did she continue to push against the resistance, dragging the blade down and into her arm. Tears formed in her eyes as metal broke tissue, and a silent sob wracked her body as the intensity of agony grew. She didn't stop when metal cut muscle, and only a gasp was elicited when she felt bone. Trails of tears rained down her cheeks, and her head, which had been tossed back in the enthralls of pain, slowly fell back into place, her eyes on the damage done. It was... horrendous.
A shudder went down her spine as she brought the blade up, carefully gripping it in her teeth. The blood... her blood... she could taste it, her focus never leaving the wound as she brought her left hand over it. Page four hundred and thirty seven... how to properly channel. The glow of her palm was dim in the depressing confines of the lower level. But it was enough, as, before her eyes, Erin's flesh began to mend. She forced herself to watch, through the pain, through the wonder, as new tissue grew, muscles writhing back together as blood moved and flowed back towards the veins. Moments turned to seconds, and through the tang of her blood, through the blur of tears, she beheld as magic showed domain over injury. Over agony, and pain.
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inherit
17
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1
Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Aug 31, 2015 4:44:12 GMT
Some of the older areas of the kingdom, untouched by the war years five decades ago, brought much comfort to Isengrim. It reminded him of years long past. A time when he knew every nook and cranny of the entire kingdom like the back of his hand. Now a days, the kingdom, having been rebuilt, was still a somewhat new place for him even after nine years. Whenever he needed to take a break from it all, he would come to some of the more familiar places. The lower levels of the library were one of those such places.
He could still find books whose pages he himself had bookmarked in his youth, during his studies to become one of the kingdom's mage knights. Books that, much to the library caretaker's distaste, he himself had scribbled and scrawled all over, notes, diagrams, and modifications marred the margins of many of these books, particularly the books on combat magic. The lower levels were normally, for the most part, empty. He could often wander for hours through the numerous shelves, and never once bump into a single soul. But today, it seemed, was not one of those days. He saw her from afar, at first. The tall, slender girl, who looked to be in her late teens, perhaps even her late twenties. She had something in her outstretched hands but he could not quite make out what it was. He tilted his head and craned his neck to see if he could make out what the object was, an uneasy feeling coming over him. That's when he saw the silver gleam of a blade. His eyes widened, and his brow furrowed. "Oh, no you don't." He muttered to himself as he hurried over to where the girl was, but it was too late. He hadn't even made it half way when she plunged the blade into her wrist. He quickened his pace, the magic already channelling into his left hand as he mentally prepared the spell. The girl drew back the blade and placed it into her mouth, pressing her hand to the wound.
He reached her side and wordlessly grasped her wrist with a steely grip "Sigillum Vul-" His words trailed off as he noticed the utter lack of blood on the wound. The magic dispersed as he released the spell. Then he brusquely pulled her wrist closer, inspecting where the wound had been. He looked at the dagger in her mouth, which also seemed to be devoid of blood, then at the table. The books on regeneration and healing magic told the story. He slowly turned his head to face the girl. His brow forming a deep menacing scowl. He dropped her wrist. "Are you STUPID?!" He said, his voice just short of a shout. He lifted his walking stick and cracked her over the head with it. "What if the spell didn't work? What if you hit an artery, and lost so much blood you couldn't muster the required focus to channel the spell? What if you had forgotten a major component? Or mispronounced a syllable, or screwed up something necessary for whatever spell you used to heal yourself? What if you just plain overestimated your ability? HUH? No, you know what, if you want to kill yourself, FINE, do it, but at least have the DECENCY not to risk ruining books older than your surname! Do you KNOW how far blood can shoot from an artery?!" He glanced down at the wrist. When he inspected it earlier, he saw no signs of a wound. No scars, no dried blood, nothing. It was excellent work. The sign of an experienced healer. "I don't care HOW experienced you are. If your going to use yourself as a practice dummy, and plan to survive after, don't be a fool and make sure you have someone else, someone experienced enough to handle any mishaps, along with you!"
He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes massaging his temples, turning away from the girl. His head had begun to pound. He was too old for this foolishness, that was certain. Just who did this girl think she was anyway? Not only could she have killed herself, she would have taken irreplaceable information along with her. He turned back around. "What's your name, girl?"
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#2007f0
3
0
1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Sept 1, 2015 19:45:32 GMT
She was so occupied with the process, with mending her flesh through the torrent of hurt, she didn’t see him approach. His tight grip on her arm was unexpected, and as strange words left his lips, Erin felt panic and fear swell in her heart. For a moment, the silhouette of Daniel’s murderer flashed across her vision, and as her wide eyes fell upon Isengrim, she knew this was the end. Knew that the killer had come to finish the job. But the words died on the intruder’s lips, and as rationale took hold, the moment of terror was gone. Relief lasted only long enough for the man to begin his inspection, her arm loose as he pulled it closer to his view. As his head swiveled, her mind began to comprehend, and instead, smugness took over. He was baffled. Confused. At a loss. And she had done it herself. The feeling inside grew, swelling with each passing moment. Even as Isengrim’s head turned to her yet again, the expression on his face a taste of what to come, it did nothing to diminish her pride, hidden behind the cold, uncaring facade she now wore.
“Are you STUPID?!”
The words he spewed lashed at Erin in an extension of his outrage. Her only response was a swift blink, then she saw it. An obvious move to rebuke her. The arc had hardly started, and her right forearm was pulled from the man’s grip and raised, head ducking as the appendage took the hit. She wasn’t going to let him hit her skull while she held a dagger in her teeth. He didn’t seem to care. Next came a flood of what ifs. She only paid them half a mind, just enough to note the theme of his statements. The other part of her focus was on the dagger, and as he rattled on, her throbbing right arm moved down so her fingers could grip the handle, pulling gently as she released the pressure from her teeth. Slow and deliberate, she placed the weapon back in the folds of her cloak, and with a tick of annoyance, she held her arm out, his eyes darting to the unmarred skin as she pulled her sleeve back down. Then came his last and final statement. That one hit home.
“What’s your name, girl?”
Silence followed his simple question, her eyes downcast as she adjusted her sleeves. She was smoldering inside. Yet again, ignorance had reared its ugly head. This man had no idea…
”First, you assume my abilities.” Her gaze turned to him, the fury inside welling deep as her voice raised with anger. “You insult my intelligence, scold me like a child, and have the audacity… to put words before my life.” A deep breathe followed, her voice softening as pain flashed across her eyes. Erin’s head turned away, hiding her distress as best she could. Then, like every false sympathizer, you assume someone actually wants to look out for me.” Her head raised slightly, before turning to look again at the man. Only anger filled her eyes.
”So since you want to judge me, you can guess my name too.”
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inherit
17
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1
Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Sept 11, 2015 22:33:52 GMT
Isengrim opened his mouth to respond, but instead, he closed it, letting out an annoyed growl, staring up to the heavens as though asking Milova herself to spare him some patience. He dropped his gaze back on her, and spoke again, this time, his voice calmer, yet still very stern. "I'm not assuming your abilities. You obviously have some degree of skill. The spells found in this area of the library are in no way simple. I do however, question your intelligence, or rather, your judgement. If you truly feel the need to practice these arts, you could at least do it else where, as I said before. These books will help countless other lives, and you chancing their destruction will help nobody. Not you, or those after you."
He glanced down at the dagger in his hands and then the guarded expression on her face. Her words echoed in his mind. "You assume someone actually wants to look out for me." What could she mean by that? He had obviously struck a cord and she obviously had some deeply rooted bitterness in her. About what, he could only imagine. But her lack of desire for self-preservation, and the fact that she so quickly assumed his sympathy was false, gave him some degree of an idea as to what it was about.
"My concern isn't false. I know full well that most books can be repaired with the right spell. But you however, once dead, cannot be brought back. And you're much to young to waste your life recklessly. You risk your life to an unnecessary degree. There is an entire college dedicated to the magical arts, I'm sure you know of this. The infirmary is full of those who have a passion for healing spells. And, provided you know where to look, there are many magically gifted individuals who will be willing to help you. But if you can't value your life, how can you expect anyone else to?"
"I'd rather not get you banned from here. But I ask that you at least practice some forethought before engaging in such reckless attempts."
He still didnt know her name, and at this point, it was not certain she would give it. "You can call me Isengrim, if you care to call me anything at all at this point. I'd offer you aid myself, but I'm afraid I'm not much of a healer. I know a few spells, but nothing as advanced as what you would find down here."
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#2007f0
3
0
1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Sept 14, 2015 17:51:49 GMT
The man’s act of frustration brought a sense of satisfaction to Erin, the corner of her mouth only slightly twitching, as if to sneer. She’d struck a nerve. When his eyes fell on her again, though, annoyance flickered in her mind. She’d failed to get rid of him, and now would have to listen to more scolding. Something she did not enjoy. As the man rattled on, the only external response was the bored expression etched on the young healer’s face.
Again, about the books. The way he talked about them was like they were people, actually capable of saving lives. And yet, they’d been stuck down here, where nobody cared to look, which had a lot to say on their relevance. The spells needed to heal and save the general populace were already up top, easier to reach. These were… something else. Ways to get better that people hadn’t seen as important, variations that had been shunned, arts that were the cause of prejudice. The man didn’t know it, but even the college healers didn’t read what were in these tomes, too quick to dismiss because a long ago scholar had scribbled “Necromancy” on the covers. But the word, as disgusting as it was, had only made Erin curious. And so she had learned the truth. Not even necromancy paralleled to the knowledge inside. But while she knew what it could do, she did not know how to use it. She needed another book for that.
When the man finally paused, his eyes darting to his hands, Erin only felt agitation. She didn’t have time to argue with him. Her expression showed that as she stepped around him, moving towards the table with all the books. He seemed to find more words then, and continued to prattle on, but she paid him almost no mind. Only the “important” parts. Her steady pace stopped as she reached the table, where she reached out, picking up the book with the bookmark. Opening, she gave a quick glance before removing the piece of wood and closing it, a puff of dust coming off. Another author, done. Again, she set it on the stack, before her eyes turned to the man, Isengrim, her gaze narrowed.
”You want to prove your concerned? Offer me aid?” She gestured to the shelves, her eyes still on him as her right arm made the sweep. ”Then help me find the Elivisris Covikendium”. She again turned away from him, picking up the top four books of the stack before she moved over to one of shelves nearby and began to follow it towards him. Her eyes were tuned in on the first letter of the author’s name. ” About half of these books make reference to it, and a journal I found says it’s in here. But the snob at the front desk swears she doesn’t have it indexed.” Erin stopped her sideways motion, her head moving closer to the books. A slight smile formed as her left hand snapped out, a slight push moving the books aside before she began to place the ones in her arm with the rest. ”If you ask me, I just think she is too worried about getting dusty to come down and check.” As the last book was put into place, the woman turned, her eyes focusing on his, her will powerful.
Find me that book, and maybe I’ll believe you.”
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inherit
17
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Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Sept 18, 2015 1:48:18 GMT
Isengrim held back a sigh. It wasn't that he minded helping, but her attitude was not particularly pleasant to deal with. Nonetheless, he decided to give her his aid. Perhaps she would open up to him some. "I'll find it for you. But at least promise you wont do anything reckless this time." He said. He did not wait for a response, and instead simply turned and began to move down the isle. "Elivisris Covikendium. I haven't heard that name in a long time. I myself am not versed enough in the healing arts to perform half the spells found in there. But the fact that you even know of the tome by name is promising." He wound through the various isles. Making his way deeper into the library, before finally settling in an unmarked aisle. The area was reserved for the particularly rare books, the only people who bothered coming here were those who were searching for very specific, very rare books. The Elivisris Covikendium was one such book. He glanced over his shoulder to see if the girl was there, and then looked back to the high shelves. He held his staff in front of him, the knob, out in front of his face. It glowed a hot gold"Lux autem legam tibi Elivisris Covikendium" He said. His voice, infused with the magic of the spell, seemed to echo and reverberate. The magic washed over the shelves in front of him, and then, in a shelf high above them off to his right, a single book stood out. The embossed title of the book, written in ancient script burned in golden light, "Elivisris Covikendium"
"There we are." Mumbled Isengrim under his breath, pointing to the book with his staff, which immediately jumped at his command, sliding out from its position high above their heads, and slowly floating down to his outstretched hand. As soon as the leather binding of the book touched his skin, the glow disappeared.
He turned to face the girl. "The Elivisris Covikendium" He said, as he held it out to her, before pulling it back as a thought entered his head. "Try not to get any blood on it, please." He said, before holding it out to her again. "As I'm sure you know the spells here much more advanced than anything you'd find in any of the books you found in the last aisle. Please, for your sake. Be careful. If you can't think of anyone to aid you, let me know."
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#2007f0
3
0
1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Sept 24, 2015 22:58:15 GMT
"I'll find it for you."
The confidence Isengrim spoke with caused Erin to cock an eyebrow, her arms crossing as she did so. His following comment resulted in a small growl of annoyance. When he turned away, she thought that perhaps she'd finally gotten rid of him, the old man rambling about the book as he went. But one particular phrase caught her attention, causing her to grudgingly follow him, head tilted to the side in a mix of confusion and curiosity.
"I myself am not versed well enough in the healing arts to perform half the spells in there."
He knew what spells were in there. He knew what is was... he knew where it was. Intrigue won over her urge to be left alone, and with a quickening in her step, she fell in behind the man. Deeper and deeper, they delved into the dark recesses of the library, sections Erin hadn't even begun to search passing them by as Isengrim moved with purpose through the innumerable tomes. Every step was mentally noted by the young woman, every turn kept in mind so she could leave if needed. Because, even if Isengrim didn't know it, suspicion still dominated her mind. No one would hear her scream if he attacked her here. No one would find the body until it reeked. And no one would know who had murdered her, just as she didn't know who had murdered Daniel. What she did know was she had been the target. And right now, she was following a stranger into the dark. Not one second of their walking saw her eyes leave the man.
Her wary gaze watched the man when he stopped, Erin standing near the end of the aisle while he was in the middle. It seemed like plenty of space to run. When his head turned to look at her, he would find two gray eyes glaring at him, daring him to try something. Hands folded in the cloak, he wouldn't see the grip she had on her knife in the left hand. But instead, his attention turned to the shelves, and she watched as the man began to work his magic, muscles tense in fear the words might be meant for her. When he finished, though, she felt just the same as before, and risked the quickest glance at the glowing book on the shelves. A near inaudible gasp escaped her lips as she saw the title.
Her eyes never left the book as it flew to the mage's hands, her suspicion battling with a yearning for the books. When Isengrim's eyes turned to her, he would see the quick glances she made between his features and the book as a small war waged in her head, safety struggling with want. She didn't even respond to the words he spoke before he extended his arm the second time, only gripping her knife tightly, knuckled whitening as she walked seemingly calmly towards him. Her right arm extending as the other fell to the side, hiding the blade. Her eyes never left his face as her hnad slid under the book, and as she felt the leather, she gripped the tome, pulling gently away.
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inherit
17
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1
Isengrim
55
Aug 15, 2015 14:18:57 GMT
August 2015
isengrim
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Post by Isengrim on Sept 25, 2015 18:50:44 GMT
He could see the distrust in the girl's eyes. It made him wonder if it was really a wise idea to hand her such important information. But its not something she would have found impossible to find on her own, and she seemed like the type who would not quit until she found it. Her demeanor made him wonder what exactly she had been through to make her so hostile and distrustful, but he knew better than to ask. When she finally did reach over, he released the book into her hands, no questions asked.
His hand returned to the top of his staff, where he stood quietly, allowing her to do what she would with the book.
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#2007f0
3
0
1
Apr 22, 2020 19:54:15 GMT
3
Dymion
129
Aug 13, 2015 23:35:49 GMT
August 2015
dymion
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Post by Dymion on Oct 1, 2015 18:39:57 GMT
She had it. The Elivisris Covekendium was in her hands. She had the chance to learn skills that could save lives, people who wouldn't have a chance otherwise. She was the one. Her grip on the book tightened as she realized it, and as her eyes fell from Isengrim to the cover of the book, her left hand, slowly, steadily, replaced the dagger in its sheath. With the blade out of hand, both sets of fingers gripped the book, a small glance thrown to the man before she continued to inspect. A sense of awe filled her, and yet, it remained hidden behind her cold, emotionless mask. A brief nod, as if to confirm this was indeed the book, set her back into regular thought her eyes never leaving the words.
"This is it. This is what I needed." Her voice sounded almost as if she was just speaking to the librarian. She turned the book over, eyes scanning the back for details. It was just a blank, old, leather cover. "Amazing the little tyrant at the front desk doesn't know there is a whole section of these." She looked at Isengrim, finally, holding the book up as if to indicate it. Her face still looked bored. "And yet, here they are." She looked over her shoulder, in the direction she thought the front might be. Well, she'll know soon enough. Then maybe she will actually do her job." She looked again at the book, its shape resting firmly in her grip as she turned back the way they had come. Slow step after slow step, she wandered away from the man, suspicion forgotten at the revelation of what was in her hands. But as she reached the end of the aisle, she paused, a thought occurring to her. SHe looked over her shoulder at the man. "And thanks." Something in her voice softened as the word left her lips. But as quickly as it was said, she turned away, setting into a steady pace as she made her way away from the bowels of the halls of knowledge.
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