[Icewatch Barracks] Opening the Door (Ianthe)

[Amondaris]

Spring, Day 52, 511 AV He stared at the door as a man doomed to hang would look upon the gallows. For Amondaris, however, the noose was of his own fashioning, and no executioner would set it about his neck. He would be doing that of his own free will. All of this, was of his making. It was he who had approached Kaivanna and arranged for this meeting, he who had come to this decision of dire consequence. Perhaps the saddest part about it was that he was fully aware of all of this, yet chose to continue on nonetheless. No tragedy had sent him to this door, no burning need to protect or destroy to serve as the impetus for seeking such dread power. If he were to be honest with himself,he would admit that he had come to this turning point in his life, this crossroads, simply just in case. In case he needed the power. In case he crossed paths with a hostile mage, in case the only way to save someone he cared about was to utilise these fell arts. No solid, concrete reason. He was here to learn Reimancy, not to save a life, not to annihilate an enemy, not even out of a lust for power. No. He was learning it as a preventative measure. How heroic. The knowledge that it was purely a sense of pragmatism and a need to be prepared for any eventuality that had brought him to this left a decidedly sour taste in his mouth. He had come this far, however. No sense in stopping now. Hah. No sense indeed. What bitter humour. With a wry twist of his lips, he opened the door and stepped through. ..To the interior of the Icewatch Barracks. Not exactly the kind of place one envisions when picturing a likely dwelling where one can learn to wield sorcery. The man and women of the Icewatch, with their dire Kelvic polar bear mounts were bastions of safety and pillars of trust in Avanthal's community. Hardly the type to use something as mistrusted and feared as magic, yet here he was to be inducted into that closed, perilous circle of Mizahar's population that possessed sorcerous talent.This wasn't something he had pictured himself ever doing as a child. He had grown up with tales of how the use of magic brought horrible fates upon the head of those that used it. Then there was the little fact of the Valterrian... What would his family think, or Rhanor? He could feel their disappointed, disproving looks boring into him even now. He'd bear it, and more, however, if this magic would save them one day. First, however, he'd have to actually learn it, and then become proficient enough in it's use for it to serve any purpose at all. Approaching the prearranged, designated spot where he was supposed to meet Kaivanna, he stood awaiting her with utter stillness, an enormous man dressed all in white, clad in a great, hooded cloak of fur.

[Growl]

A small smile crossed Kaivana's lips as she spotted Amondaris, presumably waiting for her to arrive. She stepped lightly across the floor, and then raised her right hand. She tapped him lightly on the right shoulder, and waited for him to turn around, and stare into her ruby-colored eyes, before she began to speak. "You were looking for me, were you not?" Kaivana asked rather simply. Her tone was neutral. Her hand had fallen from the man's shoulder, but if he bothered to look down where they had fallen, he would notice that the other held a small knife, which she quickly tucked into a small scabbard that lay tucked beneath a long black woolen cloak. "You said you wanted to learn magic, didn't you?" Kaivana asked. "Reimancy. Earth?" Kaivana glanced at the man's hands. "If you truly wish to go through with an initiation, you should know, that most find that it hurts. It involves slicing the palms, a bit of chanting, and sending my djed into you." There was a slight pause. "Take a moment, and decide if that is what you really want. If a life filled with magic is something that is right for you. Should you find that this is not your path, feel free to leave, and know that there are no hard feelings. Should you find that this is what you desire, I'd suggest you kneel. It tends to keep the legs from buckling during the initiation." There was a slight pause, "and if it helps," Kaivana continued, "you should know that the initiation itself is not without risk. It may kill you, and while you think that magic may merely make you stronger, you are wrong. Magic comes with responsibility, and with risks. Headaches, hallucinations, bloodshot eyes, a quickened pulse, sweet whispers... even death, are only a small part of the picture." "So think carefully, and choose wisely," Kaivana said. "This is not a decision you want to make lightly." Her voice seemed as heavy as her words... A Quick Reference : Kaivana Age: 25 years Two Marks of Morwen Skills: Glyphing- 28 Shielding-35 Teaching- 40 Weaponsmithing-38 Blacksmithing- 38 Reimancy- 40 fire and earth

[Amondaris]

He did not have to wait long before she arrived, announcing her presence with a light tap upon his shoulder. A gentle touch, but it was very likely that those hands, and the woman to whom they belonged were ineffably capable of ending a man's life. It was with this firmly in mind that he turned to face her, his gaze alighting upon a woman of striking beauty. He had but the briefest moment to initially drink in her finely sculpted features before a moment in his peripheral view caught his attention, his eyes flicking down just in time to catch the knife grasped in her hand before she tucked it out of sight. Arching an eyebrow in a peculiarly delicate manner for one so wild in appearance and bearing, he lifted his gaze back up to stare into her vivid red eyes. His own glacial orbs fastened to her blood-hued ones as she spoke, the giant of a man listening raptly, paying complete attention to her every word. He remained silent throughout her entire speech, content to digest the information she offered while he turned her words over in his mind. Magic. Did he really need to introduce such a treacherous force into his life? Was 'Just in case.' truly reason enough to potentially sacrifice his health, his sanity, even his life? What right did he have to endanger people if he succumbed to madness? What if he hurt the very people he strove to protect? This was not a decision to be made lightly, or in haste. To do so would be beyond foolish. He might not even survive the initiation, for the love of Winter! At least, he thought, that way he would not suffer the indignity and danger of sinking slowly into the depths of insanity and losing all that he was to the thirst for more power. Little comfort in that line of thought. He would need to learn this, however. If he came across another hostile mage in the future, like he had with Rhuryc and Stitch not long passed, he would need to be prepared to fight back on equal terms. He was..Evening the odds. That's all. At least, that's what he told himself. He inhaled deeply through his nose, holding the breath for a moment before letting it escape slowly from between his lips. His mouth was painfully dry, and his stomach twisted and coiled about itself with nerves. He felt as if he were standing, perched before the edge of an abyss and teetering towards the long drop. He was preparing to leap into the pitiless, unknowable depths below, and there would be no coming back. At least the abyss didn't stare back when he looked at it. That was something. He was stalling, however. There was little point in such, not now. He had come this far. May as well jump while he was here. Wordlessly, he sank heavily to his knees to the sound of faintly creaking leather and the soft rustle of fur, the padding on his legs muffling the thud as he hit the floor, kneeling before Kaivanna. On his knees he may have been, yet he kept his back straight, his head high and his gaze defiant as he stared up at the woman who would induct him into the fell world of magery. When he spoke, it was in a soft, gentle voice that was lilting and musical, yet held a measure of steel to it that made clear the strength of the man's conviction. "I have considered this with all the gravity a decision of this magnitude deserves, and my mind remains unchanged.", he said, raising his arms up to her, his calloused palms turned towards the ceiling. "I am ready."

[Growl]

Kaivana nodded slightly, just enough where a few strands of black hair fell into her face, blocking her right eye from sight. "Very well, as you wish," she whispered, as she took the mixed blood's right hand in her left. Her palm was resting against the back of his hand. They were cold, as though she had only just recently come inside, and was still working to warm her flesh back up. Her thumb had curled into the side of Amondaris' hand, and although her flesh barely pressed into his, her touch felt strong; as if it alone were enough to support him through everything that was about to come to pass. Kaivana extracted the knife from its scabbard once more, and held it tightly in her right hand. "Here goes," she said, as she raised the knife and lightly pressed its silver edge into the mixed blood's right ring finger. She was testing the skin, how hard she would have to press before it broke, and his blood spilled out. The blade was at the top of the finger, close to the nail. Kaivana could see his flesh bending beneath it, almost sense the man's anticipation. A second later, an incision had been made, and a crimson drop of warm blood had appeared on his flesh. You do not need to press too hard, Kaivana told herself, as she moved the blade a little lower, so that it rested on the skin, right next to the incision she had just made. She pressed it into his skin again, and the blood from the last wound seemed to dip into it, as she continued to repeat the process, all the way down his finger. As Kaivana did so, Amondaris could tell that she was deep in concentration, whispering something. A sort of incantation perhaps, but he was unable to pick out everything she was saying. Fire... earth... res... manipulation... They were all so spaced out, impossible to string together, though he tried. It was almost as difficult as trying to see the cuts beneath the blood on his finger. Everything was a large pile of warm blood now. Slowly dripping onto the floor. But Kaivana seemed to ignore this, perhaps, if Amondaris protested, she would be freed from her heightening level of concentration, her inability to pull her eyes away from her task. Kaivana began on the next finger, pressing the blade into the top of his middle finger, causing another crimson droplet of blood to spill out. Distract yourself... OOCAlthough intent on her task, Kaivana is still capable of hearing you, and answering any questions you may have. Or perhaps, a need to take a break. Whatever it is...