42nd of Winter, 518AV
14th Bell, Day
14th Bell, Day
Syna’s light graced the Tenten with her warming beauty. Sunlight glinted off the bright Skyglass of the Catholican that stood watch over the delicate peak. It tumbled onto the smooth stone of the Alluvion Academy and shimmered down the Skyglass accents of the educational facility. Although resting during the day, the Observatory was still a sight to behold on the warm winter day with not a cloud in the sky. The throngs of people on this peak was not nearly as thick as that of the Zintia, or even the Sartu, but since it was two bells after the end of the noon rest, the streets were as active as ever. Okomo drifted between the people, nudging pockets and purses in search of treats and pets. Smaller children twittled their fingers in the soft fur of the docile creatures as they passed, then ran through the streets trying to tag one another in a game. The occasional cat flitted between ally-ways or lounged in the sun, and down the main residential avenue of the peak, one could hear the deep tones of a string instrument being practiced in front of an open window.
A few citizens had stopped on the curb beside the musician’s dwelling, catching up with one another, and the easy flow of walkers simply moved around them. Everything about today radiate peace, and tranquility, it was the perfect example of an easy life of an upper middle class Lhavitian. It was exactly this type of easy-going afternoon that temped Rhysol into tossing misery and chaos into the lives of those who dwelled there. Nothing had seemingly changed on the busy residential avenue as Ponrose entered the street. Pride radiated from the woman as her thoughts dwelled on her successful evening at Elena’s Studio. The beautiful instructor had been too harsh on the young mage, encouraging her to take her lessons slower and to not void with such aggression, but Ponrose had disagreed. How was she to learn anything new if she always did the same things? How was she to progress her skill if she didn’t take the risk? Now you can do anything. The soft voice whispered in her ear, and Ponrose absently reached up to brush at the air beside her, a faint warm smile on her lips. From her perception, Ponrose was nearly home after a hard day’s work at the Studio and her pounding headache, surely her only overgiving side effect from such a brazen attempt, needed a cool wet cloth and some soothing tea so that she would be able to sleep through the next rest period.
Only Ponrose’s experience was nothing like what the denizens of the Tenten watched. The young up-and-coming mage seemed almost drunk as she wandered through the streets. Her steps were slow and lethargic and her balance was so terribly off she had taken to clutching the walls of the buildings to guide herself home. The thoughts in her head were not silent, but rather being mumbled and yelled at any one who glanced too long at her. ”I can do anything!” She shouted at a young child that ran too close to the stumbling mage. The young boy shrieked and backpeddled quickly, tripping on the cobbled street and scraping his knees. A flicker of concern radiated in Ponrose’s wide eyes and she leaned down to help the child up. Trustingly the young one took her hand, swallowing his sudden fearful reaction to her outburst, naivety encouraging him to think the best of his fellow Lhavitian.
Instead Ponrose dug her nails into the small child’s arm drawing blood and yanking him up. Smooth white claws gripped each of his arms and she shook him. ”Did you hear me? You can’t stop me!” She shouted at the boy, clearly unaware of how loud she was, or who she was talking to. Without warning her half-crazed expression faltered and grew to concern within a tick and her lids drooped, her voice softening to a gargled murmur, and the boy felt her grip loosen on his arm. ”I didn’t say you couldn’t… she did.” The accusatory tone seemed to come from almost another person, but it was merely a different tone of Ponrose’s own voice. Tear’s streamed down the innocent’s child’s face and blood down his arm. Shock and fear kept him from moving or trying to escape although she was barely holding him now. ”She did?” The young mage’s voice rose again with hysteria and anger all of the sudden and the boy felt her grip tighten on his arm once again, nails digging into already bloodied flesh and his sobs finally broke through the stunned silence. ”Where is she?!” Ponrose shrieked, shaking the boy as if he knew who she was talking about or could provide her with an answer that would satisfy the crazed rage she seemed to trip in and out of. The second oncoming of hysteria seemed to spur the child into action and he began screaming.
”Help! Help! Get her off me! Help!” The music halted unceremoniously, and the passerbys on the street began to slow and swarm, leaving plenty of room for the coming scene to take place. The children he had been playing tag with had circled the mage now, three well fed but still tiny young people. One girl watched in horror, hands over her mouth, the other girl, set with a grim look on her face and something hard clenched in her tiny fist. The other boy darted back in the other direction, reaching the nearest adult and yanking their arm to try and force them to help, but none would approach. The children seemed the only ones willing to get close to the crazed mage, not recognizing her strange hallucinations for what they were. The adults, on the other hand, could immediately tell that this was no ordinary bout of insanity, but rather an episode of overgiving, something too dangerous for them to handle.
”We have to find the Shinya. Go find the Shinya, boy!” The elderly man snapped in hushed tones at the child who pleaded for his help. Those on the end of the street crowded forward to see what the screaming was about, while those closest to the mage began to run away, creating a confusion and a slow mass of bodies watching the oncoming scene in horror, fear, and curiosity. And yet, somehow, this did not steal Ponrose’s attention from the boy in her claws.
”Hey! Leave him be!” The young girl who held the unknown thing in her hand shouted at the woman. She had more sense than to approach Ponrose, but the child raised her arm back, and flung her wrist forward, chucking the item in her hand at the woman. It was a small carved wooden statue of an Okomo, although not sharp or heavy enough to cause damage. Somehow the projectile thunked into the side of Ponrose’s head and she grew to rage, forgetting the boy in her grip and turning to the girl. Something in her expression seemed not quite right because the moment of bravery from the young girl disappeared, and she shrieked and ran.
”Stop!” Ponrose shrieked at the girl, a thick layer of Hypnotism in her voice, and the child found her feet glued to the ground. Panic set in and she began yanking on her calves, completely unable to lift her foot from the ground, although nothing visibly held it there. Ponrose let the boy go, stretching both hands forward and focusing on a space just in front of the girl. Within two ticks, a small point of darkness formed in mid-air. It seemed to swallow all of the light and the air around it, and with ever tick was growing larger. By merely seven ticks later the portal was about the side of the girl’s head, and the child was frozen in fear, watching he void open before her, unable to move.
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