#magicalwrite

Niela clenched to Dietse’s hand as he guided her into the school building. It was the largest she had ever seen, larger than any building in Lemp. She wondered if they build it all those years ago just like this to help its size. it was very gruesome, really. It was high and mighty, and it made her feel small. She took an other breath, and closed her eyes. 

‘Nothing to fear Niela, just a big gigantic building with a lot of people inside. But good thing, a lot of children your age. Just don’t scare them, and hope they don’t scare you,’ Dietse told her. He was wearing one of his best three piece suits, and had given her a great dress, one that she loved dearly, and hated already because she knew she would grow out of it. 

‘Your castle is smaller,’ she said. 

Dietse nodded, his eyes on the architecture. ‘Oh, far smaller. My castle fits in here a few times.’ 

‘Can I lie about how big it is? Your castle I mean. These are rich kids right?’ 

The man laughed. ‘Of course, don’t take them on a field trip to Lemp, and you’ll be fine.’ 

They reached the entrance hall, where people came to take their jackets. It was just before the summer, and Trolian was dealing with a cold front. A lot of groups of children were jumping around. All these new people, Niela didn’t have a hard time dealing with people, she just always pictured the idea that they would be leaving her, and fear to connect. 

Dietse placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. ‘Listen Niela,’ he said, fathers and mothers and young children walking past them. ‘I know this is scary, and I know you feel like I am leaving you.’ Yes, that was something she was thinking about. ‘But these people will help you, help you grow. You take their advice, and you befriend the youngsters you like. Okay? I want you to have a least a bit of a... well, I wouldn’t call it normal... childhood.’ 

Niela nodded. She never knew what to say to Dietse when he was being fatherly, but she appreciated him being nice. ‘And if I don’t like it?’ she asked, pushing her shoulders together, and looking at the ground. 

Juvion sat on the edge of the cot, holding his sword. His hand shook, his first two fingers a stiff and unyielding claw. The skin on his arm was shiny and puckered from the mid-forearm all the way to his shoulder and shoulder blade. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and lifted the sword. He made it three inches before the blade slipped from his grip, and fell clanging to the floor.

He’d been civil when he asked for some time alone to rest. They were his group, his friends. But this was the last thing that he needed, that any of them needed. When he’d gotten news of Maia’s capture upon waking up---he’d missed the announcement the rest of the group had received, he and Thon were already out the door on their doomed mission---they’d had to keep him sedated. But they shouldn’t have bothered. He was useless, anyway. It would take months to learn to fight with his left hand, and it was inconceivable to him to wait that long before attempting a rescue. Darqa and Dynas and Loriente would have to have it covered. 

Running a hand over the thick stubble on his chin, he smiled in a way that wasn’t far from a grimace. He couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even help himself. His only use would be his Magic, a fluke of his birth. Finally, he’d prove his father right. He’d be the real Juvion Modord, the one he’d been covering up for so many years, pretending he could be something better, someone deserving. 

Kelt gazed at the night sky, then back at the backyard of their Betechem home. Everyone else was inside, getting warm by the fire, talking about anything but the battle. They had been back for a day now, adjusting to a life without constant battle was odd, even if that battle had only lasted two days. He sought the company of beings from out of this world, just for a moment, just to thank them. 

He choose a good spot, and sat down on his but, his legs crossed, and his forearms resting on his knees. He was wearing a warm sweater, a cold weather had passed. The pink and blue stripped outfit did catch some attention, he could hear people whispering as they walked past, but ignored whatever they were saying. He closed his eyes and imagined a link between him and Out of Time, a link to the Gods.

‘Leia, Marcous, and Raylan, thank you for protecting me and my Compan during our days in the battle. We’ve enjoyed your protection, and all have come back safely. A few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. Please, watch over Daneal Oas, he has been captured, and I fear for his sanity, being out there in HagaFosiel all alone. Please, protect and care for our King Deas Uef, I fear he needs help on his path, even if he’s doing pretty well as it is,’ Kelt said, keeping his eyes shut and his body completely still. He smiled when mentioning Deas. Good guy, that one. 

Kelt had a rather strange way of praying, he would always talk to the Gods, tell them about his Compan, how they were doing, how they felt, wether they needed help. It was his bond with a supernatural power that calmed him to a point where he could still live with himself. It kept him sane. And that was something he needed considering his position, considering his age, and those who had died around him. 

‘Johnus is doing fine, I think he feels a bit shaken by the battle, he had a few encounters with Mancers that didn’t go so well. Sidjay is mostly there to keep his head up, she is pretty excited about the storms that’s coming in from the Masadur. We’ve bought rainjackets and ponchos to go watch it at the walls. I guess we have some of you to thank for that. Saraas was pretty worse after the battle, she got a big cut on her leg, but they took care of her quickly, and she’s up and running again. She told me the other day that she would want to train with an other Gold Magician. Good thing I know a few.’

By now no more people walked past, which made the silence around him heavier. Sometimes he wished more people held faith in the gods, so he could pray together with them. 

‘Migwa has been doing alright, she filled in for me a few times during the second day, led people around, told them where I was, what our missions were. She was pretty helpful. I do hope she one day gets a Compan, she surprises me each time with doing better at what she wishes to become.  And oh, Menjai. Menjai did fine. I did notice she was a bit on edge, maybe because it was the first battle led by her cousin, not Karadas, but Deas. I think she really misses him. I feel for her, he was more than just a king to her.

‘From what I heard, Samual took care of Jeiramey during the first day, I didn’t see the Teccup the day after, and when we got back he admitted to being hospitalized. For someone who doesn’t talk very much, he was very descriptive about his numb legs, and how Blue Magicians worked hard to restore feeling. He still silently complains about not feeling his toes, I can see him pinch them through the window now. Samual has asked leave to visit his sister, I didn’t even ask Ser Bealish if that was alright, I get that he wants to check on her as soon as possible, so I let him. 

‘Olphan was missing all during the second night, no one has an idea where she went, but I hope she had fun. She has been avoiding me since we got back, maybe she thinks I’ll be angry at her for not being battle ready the third day, but none of that matters, because there wasn’t a third day. Mohmay has knitted me a scarf, for no reason other than Samual told him that Teccups do not have a good clothing business because they are bad at it. Their argument must’ve been harsh if it convinced Mohmay to make something. It’s a really good scarf though. 

‘Then there is Liev and Zolyn, I think they grew a bit closer when I assigned them to the same Dragon. Liev got food poisoning during the flight back, I think it was something she ate in Dragones. We had to stop five times. She’s feeling better now though. Zolyn has got this mother instinct about her, she recognized Liev was getting sick and send us to the ground, she even knew a bit about what herbs to use to get rid of the stomach aches. If I ever feel like throwing up, I am happy to know she’s in my Compan.

‘Well, I think that was it for tonight. Johnus is forcing me to play some card game with him and Samual, he wanted to invite Migwa too, but apparently she crushes at games. I am in for a treat!’ 

Sadar skillfully threw a small stone at one of the Blue Magicians when she wasn’t looking, and fell back into his bed to ensure she wouldn’t suspect him. A minute later he tried it again, but on one of the other patients, landed the dirt right in the man’s face, who started screaming and almost threw his bed over. 

Yeah, laying in the hospital was boring like that. And he probably shouldn’t be using his Magic, after all, he wasn’t really there because of his leg, which was healing just fine, but because he had exceeded the energy within his body that made him able to... well move. He had used up most of his Magic, and he needed rest to fill his reserves. Not even doing a short nap on the ground would fix that. 

Speaking of short naps, he had been asleep for the past... two days? The battle was over, they had managed to drag him back to Tordanes without him noticing, and as soon as he was back on his feet, he could fly back to Betechem himself. Oh jolly. 

He grimaced. What annoyed him most - aside from not being able to do much, and not having any books or company - was how it had all happened. Sure, he understood Bane’s reasoning for getting his ass out of there. That Plant Magician was serious business. But being dragged off by some weird soldiers like a broken mannequin. No, thank you. 

Sadar was being pitiful with himself. He knew the right decision had been made, and he pretty much had this situation to thank to himself, but he couldn’t help thinking the situations could’ve ended differently. For one, he did blame Bane for making use up most of his reserves, for nothing, too. 

He better be waiting to apologize. 

Taking another long, deep breath, Sidjay sighed.

It was a fresh night, cold, the wind that rushed through Landon Fields played with the fire and sang, blowing between tents and tired Knights and Soldiers. The sky was pitch black. This was the first battle after King Karadas’ death - the man who was King when Sidjay’s family visited court, the man young teenage Sidjay had always told herself she would befriend, just for the sake of befriending a king. It had never happened. The man that was Menjai’s relative, but it was Menjai’s relative as well, who was the new King now. Her uncle. King Deas.

Her muscles felt heavy and sore, as if she was still wearing her armor, even though she had taken it off right after the battle. It was her arms that hurt the most, as usual, no wonder, with the weight of her sword and the strain of magic. This was her job, her entire life - feeling exhausted after only one day was a bad sign, she really did have to spend a lot more time training, just like everyone told her. Mainly Johnus.

Looking up from the luring dance of the fire she was staring into, it felt too hot against her legs and face, there he was. Grinning this silly smile he had reserved for Kelt, because Kelt was saying silly things. It was lighting his whole face up brightly - this face of him, usually so in thought about what he was going to say next, about what their siblings were doing at home. About things even Sidjay didn’t know of.

She really loved them, both of them. Endlessly positive Kelt was such a source of energy for her, and Johnus, her older brother, was always so caring - so worried. Just looking at them like this, as if there was nothing to be tired about, made the blonde feel better already, too. Sidjay smiled so gently it felt odd on her lips. This was no time to slump down over bread and soup. This was the time to share words and strength, so motivate and inspire, to light spirit afire.

So maybe, she could give back a little bit of the strength Kelt and Johnus always gave her.

Sidjay rushed her hair back with her fingers and then shook some volume into it. Putting her hand on Migwa’s should, who was in midst of eating her nightly mean, Sidjay stood up and tall. Migwa smiled, she knew what this meant, and Sidjay gave her a toothy smile back. It was so cheesy, her holding speeches, and yet, with her slacking in training of her magic, with her running off to do her own thing. With all of her faults and flaws, at least this was a thing she could.

Her sword was already sheathed and sharpened in their weapon’s tent, otherwise she would have held it high, and it was water, she was drinking, not wine, but Sidjay held her cup towards the fire and sky anyone. She looked at her Compan and pride filled her chest.

Migwa smiling up to her in this innocent manner of hers. Menjai leaning on Liev, more quiet than usual. Samual next to them, probably thinking of his sister just like Johnus, who smiled at her. Kelt grinned from eat to ear, he loved speeches just like her. Sidjay knew, when she would sit down afterwards, he would stand up. Olphan and Zolyn, interested, but as always with sharp eyes that proved sharp minds. Saraas and Jeiramey, sitting with more space between them and the others. Mohmay, giving her a look to start already. Grinning at all of them, she did.

Growling lowly, Orractous - still buried under layers of Greenness - made his way back to camp. It was his monster that kept him going, where his body was exhausted to the point of passing out. However, he knew that giving up his mind would mean the monster could take over, so he remained in control as he slouched back to some campfire. 

Arriving he must seem like a starving wolf, setting himself down, the greenness disappearing beneath his skin, next to a fire with a bowl of steaming... porridge it would seem. He held out his hand and waited for a bowl to be placed in his palm. The heat went unnoticed. The young Magician just focussed on the fact that it was food. He poured it in his mouth, ate it all away in under five minutes, and handed the bowl back to the invisible hand. Content, he closed his eyes and moved his shoulder blades to get a better spot. The campfire warmth his flesh and bones that would otherwise freeze from the lack of movement. He could sleep now, he wouldn’t mind that much. 

But the night was still young, and sleeping in his gear seemed like a bad idea. With a grimace and a growl, Orractous pulled himself from the ground. He stared at some unfamiliar faces, ignoring their asking gazes, and pushing his whole body to a standing position. For a moment unsure if he could make it back to his tent, the Emerald Magician bent his knees. Seemed fine, he concluded. Slow like a turtle, the Mancer went on his way. He wasn’t sure where his tent was, and looked for details that he had captured on the way out to determine his route. 

That resulted in a long maze through tents and campfires, hoping he might stumble on what could be his tent - because to be honest, they all looked alike. He picked a nice looking one at the center of camp, thinking it to be his, he walked in unannounced. Two head swung his way, half covered in blankets. They were in a struggling position, one on top of the other, and shouted at him that he was in the wrong tent. No shit, he didn’t share his tent with other people!

(OOC: I am creating some closure of my character Orractous now Divi is gone. Since I still want to do Cynnthyia some justice, I’ve decided that Orry has been the one to break it off)

Staring at his now empty appartment, Orractous wondered whether his decision had been the right one. It had never been his intention to break it off like that, things were going smoothly between them after all, but maybe too much of that smoothness had gotten on his nerves. Or other things might have. The line “It isn’t you, it’s me” hadn’t been used by him. It was them, not either of them as individuals, but them as a pair. She had left after an intensive conversation about their relationship, but he knew she was upset. They both would have to deal with those feelings. 

For one, Orractous wasn’t someone to stand still too long when hard situations had occurred. Death had always been part of his life, and seeing people hurt - or himself in some cases - was day to day life. He would simply live the next few days - maybe weeks - of his life rolling towards acceptance. 

Sighing he fell back into the couch, digging his body down the softness of the fabric to ignore how heavy feelings dwelled up in his stomach.