[center][h3][b]Dawn of Anghebad: First of the Mystics[/b][/h3][/center]
The Arena was quickly becoming the center of Anghebad. Some ten years ago it was nothing more than a pit with some carved, earthen seats. Now it was a big complex. With sandstone walls and even separate rooms in which clay tablets were to be stored. There was even a small market on the square outside of it. The higher benches were for onlookers while the lower benches, enjoying shadows cast from long cloths, were larger and meant for students. At the entrance of the practice area Orb floated on a pedestal. Overseeing the teaching and practice of magic. Today especially the Arena was hosting a large gathering. King Hamurai’s guard were making a way through the crowd so the king could pass through without a problem. The Arena lacked any special tribune or seating for the king. Instead he made his way to the lower levels. The king had fashioned himself an eternal student of magic.

There was a reason people had gathered in the Arena. Gusts of wind rushed through the openings between the walls and air was sucked back into it. It created a constantly shifting breeze. When the King finally reached the lower levels he folded his arms as he watched what was happening. At first glance, it would’ve appeared as if two women were dancing, their joint moves directing and bending the winds. One of them was clearly different from the rest of Anghebad entirely. She was slightly larger and lines of paint were drawn on her skin. Her partner dressed in tight fitting gear. In contrast the painted woman’s lose clothing moved with grace through the constantly shifting air. The two of them seemed entwined in an intricate dance. Guided by the loud, rhythmic beating of drums.

The king, however, knew well enough that it wasn’t just a dance. It was a duel. Every move was known and deliberate, demanding a response of the mana and the winds it controlled. Orb had taught them that. A wrong move weakens your position and footing, allowing your opponent, if they are skilled, to push their advantage. Force you to make even more missteps, until the mountain of errors is too big and the dance breaks. But the dance also wouldn’t work if each side simply did their own thing. Each move was extremely well defined and taught with precision in mind. The Dances, a path of magic created with the help of Orb, was as much a duel as it was an exercise in the improvement of your own skill.

At the moment, there was no clear winner. At least not to those with no eye for magic. But the King saw beyond the façade of equality. The painted woman was handily beating her opponent. But instead of delivering the final strike and ending the dance, she helped her. With every misstep, imbalance is created and the painted woman rectified that balance almost immediately. She wasn’t toying with her though. Well, not until the Whirl-Steps began. Then it would have appeared that the painted woman’s opponent was simply outmatched. The younger woman lost her footing. The wind carried her upwards for a second, before she fell down on the ground. The painted woman made her finishing moves, beseeching the mana and the winds to calm down again, as she would find her inner calm as well. Drums were silenced.

The second she was finished, she rushed over to her partner and helped her up. “You did well.” The king could hear her say. “The Whirl-Steps are too much for you yet. Take some time. Learn the first five sets. You’re doing very good.” The younger woman smiled, dusted her off and the two moved towards Orb in the shadow.

“You have shown exemplar improvements my lady.” Orb said towards the younger woman. “Lady Enura is right. You should focus on improving your first five steps. The Whirl-Steps are yet too treacherous.” His runes lit up as the sound waved through the area. Several other students were listening attentively, as was King Hamurai. He was never one for the Dances though. None the less he could recognize skill. When the short lesson was finished, two other students stood up and moved towards the center, into the light of the sun. They took their respective position and began their joined dance.

Lady Enura, in the meantime, walked over to the King and kissed him deeply. “My sun.” he said as he embraced her. “You looked radiant.”

“I always look radiant.” Lady Enura, or rather Queen Enura said. Though she never liked the title of Queen. She then turned around to watch the young woman she had dueled with. The woman was sitting on the edge of her seat, observing every step the two students were making in the sunlight. “She’s attentive. A few more years and she’ll join your magisters.” There was pure pride in Enura’s voice. “So why did you come all the way down the hole? Orb has no glyph lessons today?”

“I’ve come for you.” The king said as he turned away from the spectacle and guided his wife as he walked. “There’s been more sightings.”

“Golden lights?” Enura immediately asked. “Others, magisters, have seen them as well?”

“They have. We don’t know what they are. Orb has no answers either. We’re planning to send out a group of magisters to investigate the golden lights tonight. In the dark.” The King said, his voice betrayed a level of concern. “I just pray to the nameless god that these things are benevolent.”

“Prayer doesn’t work.” Enura stated coldly. It was one thing she hated about magic. They knew its god existed. They knew he held stewardship over all spells. Yet he refused to bear a name or to answer prayers. Even Orb refused to utter his name. He said it had no consequence. To know or not to know his name, it wouldn’t matter in a prayer. Instead he looked at those who advanced magic beyond its limits. Time and time again. Why the god himself wasn’t guiding them was beyond her. “You’ll tell me when they found something?”

“I think you’ll tell me.” The King said with a small smirk.

Enura frowned. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ll know what those lights are sooner than I will.”

“Wait… that means.” Enura was shocked for a second. “I can lead the magisters!?”

“By royal decree.” The King said. “You’re stronger than almost all of them. My love. I’m sorry it took so long for me to accept that. But I can’t stop you anymore. Just… be careful. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if you go hurt… Or worse-“

Before the King could finish that sentence, Enure kissed him to shut him up. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I will be back.”
[hr]
[i]That Night…[/i]
Enura was the first to spot the golden mote in the distance. It was a small, fickle looking thing. Dancing over a very small stream. Behind her, the magisters walked. Most of them older men, well versed in the glyphic magic developed in the last ten years with the aid of Orb. The glyphs were entirely new. Many felt it prudent not to use the already existing cuneiform, as they didn’t want to accidentally use a spell. To that end the magisters had already held three grand concordats in an effort to establish the glyphs and the other ways of magic.

They were less than happy to be led by a woman though. Especially a woman who practiced the path of Dances. Enura knew well what the old farts would be gossiping about. It didn’t matter. She could leave them all in the sand, rocks and dirt if she wanted to. When the night was at its peak, the group arrived at the mote. Most of the old men began to write on their tablets, in an effort to draw out some information about the golden light. Enura walked around it. Turning around, walking backwards, and turned around again. She switched her direction and switched it again and again. She could feel the golden mote reverberate somehow, as she closed her eyes. There was something there. A structure. A pattern. Her instinct told her that. Even though her own senses couldn’t feel anything but chaos.

“There is something…” one of the old magisters pipped up. “The light’s perfect structure.”

“Stop talking.” Enura said. The magisters looked up surprised. Most were looking at Enura with angry scowls. How dare she interrupt an erudite man!? But some, some looked confused at their colleague.

“It’s not chaos.” One of the confused looking one’s said. “But it’s not order either. It’s something… bigger.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Nuraï!?” the first magister said as he stood up. “I am ten years your senior! Know your place. The light is obviously a clearly defined-“

“It’s not.” Enura said. “It’s not at all clearly defined. It’s constantly shifting.” She looked at Nuraï, who nodded in agreement. “But it’s big. Something runs through it like.. like how blood runs through us.” Carefully she touched the golden light as she tried to tie her own magic to something within the light. “It is…something more than mortal.”

“Orb said all spells are constructs within the mana.” The magister by the name of Nuraï said. “Maybe this is… also a spell? I mean look at the light. It isn’t made from anything that makes light. Nor does it feel warm. It’s just mana given form and somehow-”

“A form we can see.” Enura locked eyes with Nuraï. For a second they shared a subconscious sense of knowing. Of understanding each other. Then suddenly, he consciousness was grasped by the spell. Her magic wasn’t just taken, it was grasped and pulled in. Symbols flashed through her mind. Symbols of impossible geometry.

“My lady!” One of the magisters exclaimed.

She didn’t hear him. Her mind was consumed by the spell, trying desperately to understand that which she could not understand. The impossibilities were altered in her mind. Changed to more manageable, if not less accurate, representations. New, simpler shapes overlaid the first ones. Incomprehensible words were given mortal expressions. Finally, the core concept of the spell were given a pale, worldly comprehension.

When the spell released Enura from its hold, she collapsed on her knees. The symbols were still in her mind, or at least the mortal interpretations. “Tablet! Give me a tablet, now!” She yelled, even though she was out of breath. Her body was sweating. Most of the magisters were too shocked to move. Only Nuraï moved and handed her a wooden frame, with still moist clay with in it. Enura ran the stylus over it to flatten the clay and instantly began to draw the symbols she remembered, along with words written in cuneiform. When she was done, the last of the insight the spell had given her faded away. Leaving her mind like it was.

“What does it mean?” Nuraï asked as he observed the tablet.

“I have no idea.”
[hider=summary]We are introduced to Enura, a former “princess” of the amazons. She is now queen of Anghebad and a dreadfully good mage of the Path of Dance, a path she helped create with the help of Orb. After her duel, she speaks with her husband. Who tells her others have been seeing the same golden sprites she saw.

At night she leads a group of magisters, the mages caste of Anghebad, beyond the city towards one of the golden glowing motes. Some magisters spout some bullshit, making some other magisters and Enura realize that not all magisters can see the golden lights. She then reaches out with her magic and is plunged into a bath of impossible, divine insight. Her mind makes an attempt to understand it as the hold of the spell is released. On a tablet she scribbles everything she can remember of the rapidly fading information. In the end, nobody can say what it all means. More research will be required.[/hider]

[hider=Prestige]
[b]Post Length:[/b] +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Mystics
[/hider]

[hider=MP/DP]
[b]Qael’Naath start:[/b] 5MP/5DP
-1DP >> Consecrate the Mystics with title: Aether-Sight I.
[b]Qael’Naath end:[/b] 5MP/4DP
[/hider]