Member
Ti
Fallenreaper
Mattia’s knuckles rapped on the wooden door for the third time, still hearing no response from inside. He checked the papers in his hand again, confirming the address for this “Kaspar Elstrøm von Wentoft” was correct. If I have to say that full thing more than once, he’s getting an extra citation, he grumbled mentally. Ten froabas eggs showing up in the hands of inexperienced students—he already had a feeling that Ersand’Enise was going to be a headache for the next five years. For more than just D.R.A.G.O.N., he could hope.
Glancing back, he watched his fresh-faced partner shift from foot to foot, unable to keep still. Jerking his head toward the door, Mattia took a step back. “Jakob, your turn to bruise your knuckles.”
The younger man nodded briskly, stepping up to the spot Mattia vacated in front of the door, and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, Jakob pounded on the door once… twice—
It swung inward, causing the agent to startle a little. Behind it, hand still on the knob, was an unimpressed looking boy in a surprisingly full state of dress, considering the early hour. As his crimson eyes wandered passively between Jakob and Mattia, the latter felt a keen prickle of irritation as he put two and two together.
Bastard wasted our time just so he could don his “full regalia”. Fucking nobles.
“We are…” Jakob cast a nervous glance back toward his partner, but the man didn’t take his eyes off of the boy in front of them. “We are with the Draconic Regulatory Association—”
“You are here about Varmkorv,” he stated matter-of-factly, Avincian words carrying the same peculiar lilt that Mattia recognized in Jakob’s Eskandish accent.
A different kind of confusion seemed to set into Jakob’s stance as he responded, “…Varm korv?”
Without a reply, the boy stepped back, gesturing them into his dormitory. As they passed through into the space, he gestured to a corner of the room overtaken by a heap of blankets and furs. Nestled inside, half-peeking over the top, was a banded froabas egg.
“The egg. Varmkorv,” the student offered, not seeming to notice the way Jakob stiffened uncomfortably.
The agent swallowed before asking, “And you are calling it… varm korv?”
“Yes. Varmkorv.”
“That’s—”
“Am I missing something here?” Mattia asked in irritation, not feeling particularly guilty in the way his young partner jumped.
Jakob glanced to the boy, back to his mentor, and stammered, “It’s—well, varm korv is…” He hesitated, then stepped closer and whispered into Mattia’s ear, “It’s Eskandish for—”
Oh.
Bringing a sharp eye to the youth who was still just watching their interaction, Mattia straightened himself up and dredged up his best authority voice. “Son, you’re not planning on eating this dragon, are you?”
The boy leveled them with a hard stare, eyes frosty though the rest of his demeanor remained stoic. “No. I will be raising it. Why would I eat this?”
Mattia barely resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Then why would you name it after—”
“Look at it!” The boy interrupted, gesturing to the red-orange egg with dark bands. “It looks like varm korv! Therefor, I name it Varmkorv! It makes perfect sense!”
Silence sat between the two inspectors and the student as they (or Mattia, at least) stared tiredly at the egg.
Finally, voice somewhat hushed, Jakob offered, “It…does kind of look like varm korv.”
This was going to be a long day.
Kaspar had already narrowed down his list of options before the fair had a chance to begin. He and Willa had spent the past several lunches going over what information was available on each to determine what societies, if any, would be a good fit for the boy. He had selected several which seemed to be highly academic, but Willa had insisted he have an even balance of clubs selected for a practical nature and clubs selected for recreational interest. In the end, his list was... quite a bit fuller than either had expected at the start. He was going to need to do a serious amount of trimming over the course of the day.
To his benefit, the boy was good at turning an objective eye and working quickly.
One of the first organizations he visited was the Draconic Order—given his custody of Varmkorv and some of the requirements set out by D.R.A.G.O.N., it was an absolute must. He'd already read about it through the informative paper Ayla had given him with the egg, so the boy was quick to slip in, power through the process of signing up, and slip back out just as quickly. There would be plenty of time for socializing later—he had twenty-one more clubs to sort through, the sooner the better.
A few choices were made for him: he received no referral for the Strakhalists, something likely to do with his lack of social connections, and failed the entry test for the Valgardiers. He was at least told it was a close fail, but it offered no comfort to a boy who was not looking for it. They were simply two more stricken from the list.
Both the Carnation Accord and the Indigo Front were the sort of common, academic clubs he expected to join... But they were also among the clubs his parents had encouraged him to join. Old, prestigious... It was harder to put them out of mind as he turned and walked away from the booths, but he still managed.
One by one, his options were narrowed as Kaspar paced through the fair, spending a short amount of time at each of the concerned booths. By lunchtime, he had painstakingly whittled twenty-two down to seven.
“And you're sure these are the seven you want?”
Between bites of his lunch, Kaspar glanced to the tutor eyeing him harshly. “Yes. I think they are the right choices.”
“Why?”
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't expecting something like this. Willa was not questioning his judgement, but rather making sure he was confident in it—that he'd put actual thought into the choices and not simply picked for the sake of picking.
“Draconic Order. Varmkorv needs the best of me, and it's the best manner of assuring I meet the standards set by the Regulatory Association. Egalite Fraternite—it provides a good opportunity to assist others and learn about the political climate we are shifting toward, while giving an insight into the lives of the kind of people I would be charged with, should I become Marquis. The Essence Club. They work a lot with plants, and the students running the booth seemed... Very friendly. Pragmatics. It is a... Well, a pragmatic choice. A good opportunity for learning in a hands-on environment, without the prestige of the Carnation Accord or Indigo Front. The...” He paused briefly, cheeks tinting slightly pink, and seemed to double down focus on the paper in his hands. Willa could read the list just fine, but she was going to make him say it.
“The... Sleuths. Working on the key critical thinking and logical deduction skills while furthering social contacts with acquaintances in the closely-associated Fingersteeplers.” Kaspar tried valiantly to ignore the way Willa chuckled under her breath, moving quickly onto the next club which was... Only marginally less embarrassing. “Society of the Grapes. Good for increasing social influence among other members, while offering a chance to... Forgo typical societal requirements. And, lastly, Surveyors. A chance to help others while working on skills in binding and collaboration, among others.”
Willa was nodding, seemingly satisfied with his responses. After a moment of quiet reflection, she asked, “Why did you decide against joining the Aesthetics? You enjoy art quite a bit.”
The boy sighed, leaning back on his hands in the grass. “I don't know if I want to share or discuss my sketches. I do them simply because I enjoy doing so, and because it offers an opportunity to rebalance. Being part of a group may hamper that. If I do want to sketch with someone else, I can always ask Ayla.” It had been a difficult choice to make, in large part because his friend was planning to join the club. But he only had room for seven, and he felt confident in the choices he had made.
Kaspar was quick to spend the afternoon going from booth to booth, completing the application process for each and shuffling away from the crowds around each club. He'd spent all day stuck amongst hordes of students, and the noise was beginning to press against his mind. Satisfied with the efficiency of the day, he retreated back to his dormitory to compose some new sketches of Varmkorv to join the others scattered around his room.
Assani 30
LOCATION: Draconic Order Stall
INTERACTIONS: Silas @Tackytaff, Zarina @YummyYummy, Jocasta @Force and Fury
Kaspar had nearly considered not going to the second day of the fair, but ultimately pulled himself out to spend some time around the stalls for his new clubs. He was wandering away from the stall for Draconic Order, having spent quite a while listening to other members talk about their experiences with dragons and getting tired of the crowd. It was as he headed south that the noble spotted something unusual. Approaching, it looked familiar... Similar to what they had absorbed in the desert. An aberration, tiny compared to the beast in Torragon... But this one was white, and shaped like a girl. He almost felt he could identify the silhouette, but it danced on the edge of his mind.
Looking around, he spotted only one other individual—the blind boy, Silas, who he'd first met when more students arrived at the Refuge. He remembered briefly showing the boy to his room, but they hadn't interacted much outside of that. Still, he seemed to be making for the aberration even as Kaspar stood beside it, so he waited for the other student to get within range. “This one is... White,” he offered, unsure of what the other boy could sense with the Gift. Curious, he reached out a hand and... touched it.
It didn't feel like touching the one in the desert. There was no cloudiness overtaking his mind. In fact... It felt clearer. As the wisps of white seemed to curl along his fingers and wrist, absorbing into his skin, Kaspar felt energized. He wondered if Silas was feeling the same thing, noticing in his peripheral that he had also reached out to the aberration. As the refreshing energy flowed into him, though, it seemed to push just to the edge of discomfort, a faint prickling beneath his skin that seemed to crawl up his arm and through his body as though it were in his veins, swimming through the crimson blood within. It buzzed like electricity with a warmth like sunlight, something wholly unlike any other sensation he'd experienced—only in part because it seemed to press against him from the inside out.
Even as the last wisps vanished, the feeling persisted, and Kaspar took several steps back. He rolled up the ends of dark sleeves, inspecting his skin to look for any visual change to match what he was feeling. Nothing seemed to appear, though. He looked up to ask Silas if he felt something similar, but the boy had already vanished. Kaspar turned in a different direction, towards the Academy, searching for... something, though he wasn't sure what.
The feeling seemed to be gradually fading as he walked. The most unnerving part was that Kaspar was unsure if it was actually leaving, or if he was just getting used to the sensation like a faint ringing in his ears. For the briefest of moments, he entertained the thought of going to a Zeno and asking what they might know—but consumption of aberrations was against the rules of the Academy, and he didn’t feel the need for a harsh lecture or grueling punishment. Willa was even further out of consideration, then. Any punishment she doled out would make the Zenos look tame.
His wandering brought him towards the southeast corner of the Academy grounds, and long before he got there Kaspar could see some kind of commotion. By the time he arrived it seemed to be resolved, though the boy could tell it appeared to have been a brief altercation between Zarina and Jocasta.
The latter did not let him rest for long—a disturbance, it seemed, to the north. It was too far for the boy to sense, but Jocasta’s range was more than plenty for this—as were her temporal skills sufficient for getting them to the scene.
Unsure as to what exactly he saw on the other side of the portal, Kaspar nevertheless stepped through.
Collaboration with @dragonpiece
Ingrid struggled against the combined weight of Manfred and Dory pressing her down into the ground, restricting her joints to make sure she is unable to cast anything. The momentary strength she drew from her madness couldn’t pull anymore out of her untrained body as the mixture of lactic acid and Dory’s own internal chemical magic left Ingrid in a lull, only resisting in spasms when the chem magic loosened its hold of her. Her mind made had deteriorated to a feral beast, only craving wanton destruction and the power of the black aberration. Friendship no longer mattered as even Dory, someone she cares for, was nothing more than a punching bag for her.
Kaspar stepped through the portal Jocasta had offered, eyes immediately catching sight of the atomic mage seemingly driven mad. He was quick to kneel, trying to help Dory and Manfred subdue Ingrid while others filtered through the gateway. As his hands pressed into her shoulder and upper arm, something seemed to spark like an electric shock in the boy’s mind. He could feel something broken within her. Like she had been untethered from something, though he couldn’t tell yet the nature of it. He didn’t remember feeling such a thing when he’d gone mad in the desert, but this time he was unaffected. Curious prickling under his skin, he began to reach deeper into these connections.
Ingrid hadn’t become aware that other people had arrived to see her in this shameful state as she was chemically inhibited. But what she could feel was something pushing in her in a way that couldn’t be explained. It reached deep inside of her and she could feel the aberration madness was almost fighting this feeling. Her mind told her to run, a feeling she never felt under this madness. She spasmed more like fighting for dear life.
Kaspar retracted his hands for a moment, worried that he’d hurt Ingrid with the way she had spasmed, but it seemed to be the madness consuming her. Tentative, he placed his hands back and tried to examine further. It was strange to sense these disconnections—in many ways, it felt like sensing for injuries or obtrusions in the way taught to Binding mages, and carried some familiarity from his studies. But there was a metaphysical twist in the link, like what he was feeling was real, but it wasn’t really there. As he dug into what his Gift could feel, it came to him best like a bridge—or a series of bridges—that had collapsed in the middle and been swept away. There were two whole edges, but no way to get between them. Yet… something in him, perhaps the healer, tried to shore up the frayed ends on either side.
Ingrid sense of self left, any energy used for struggling turned inwards to fight against the intruder in her head. A scene like any other, a cosmic space filled with stars. These weird wiery bridges seemed to be hanging from to from what seems like 2 hemispheres. On Ingrid’s side was a place of comfort. She existed in multiple times on her side. Studying in her room as her servants bring her small snacks. A sleepover with her friends and her sisters. Her time in class when she was praised for her curiosity. Laughing with friends as they achieved their goals. Laying in bed barely covered watching her lover come in. Comfort was on her side.
The opposite of her side was dark: her fears. Awkwardness, inadequacies, failure. Countless nights of worry. Death of innocents, a long dreary life of fake smiles and false achievement. And whatever was trying to reach into her was trying to connect these white wiry bridges. The more the strings connected, she could see her comfort slowly fading. Ingrid lashed out in a panic trying to protect herself from the horrors across the bridge.
The abutments were crumbling. Something like panic flitted through Kaspar as the damage threatened to eat away the shore itself, so intense that he worried it was Ingrid’s madness seeping into him. “I think I can help her,” he uttered, voice soft as a breath at first. Then, solid—the confidence and the comfort those around him needed, “I can help her.” He wasn’t sure how. But he’d started, hadn’t he? If the boy had been able to support these intangible bridges, however little at first, surely he could do more than that. First, though, he needed to keep everything from crashing down. Speaking steadily with as much calm as he could muster, he tried to guide her. “Ingrid, I’m Kaspar. We have some classes together. I can help you—I can make it stop. But you need to let me.” He didn’t know if the words could reach her, through whatever hold the madness had, but he had to try.
Words echoed from the other side of the bridge, warping the astral space that separated the 2 sides until its waves collided with her side of the bridge. At first she feared it, as the wave only looked like it meant to harm her, but instead it only destroyed some of the scenes behind her. Her head stung as it felt that the side of comfort drew from Ingrid’s essence to repair itself. She screamed in pain as it felt like a hole bored into her memory to fix the damage. As she looked back at her supposed safety, she saw deeper wants. The bridges has started to rebuild and with it, the side of horrors seemed less terrifying, still much worse than what she had on her side of the bridge.
It felt like light was coalescing in his blood. Not the brightness, the visible aspect of it—but the energy, buzzing against his manas and perhaps even through them. The comfort of a lamp in a room swamped with shadow. It sank into his bones, seeming to seep into and from the very marrow, burning away the fear he felt at seeing someone like this.
“You’re going to be okay, Ingrid. We’re going to help you,” he encouraged, trying to reflect this light, to redirect it to the one who truly needed it. He felt like the gaps were beginning to fill, like the metaphorical and metaphysical bridges were being repaired and heading towards reconnection, but his confidence was shaky. They still needed to be linked, and part of him felt like Ingrid still needed to reach from the other side—a guide and a lighthouse, something to help him find the edges he needed to join.
The astral sky that acted as a gap between the 2 sides slowly began to light from the other side. It was warm as if the sun was on the other side and it belonged to the terrible scenes of the other side. But the warmth was odd. It made her feel at peace while the side she stood on continued to bore into her. Her flesh felt like it was pulling from her skeleton as the sun burned the scene behind her. She fell forward and touched the bridge. At first she worried that it was going to hurt even more than the anguish of staying where she was. But instead she was reminded of the headaches she would get from studying all night and Åsa bringing her some herbal tea to help her get through it. A moment that was slightly painful but real. The other side looked less horrifying for a second and instead seemed unnecessarily vicious. But It started to seem slightly better than where she was. She began to move.
Kaspar expected the edges to snap together sharply, like metals influenced by Magnetic Magic. Instead, it felt like threads weaving and pulling taut, knitting Ingrid back to reality. Like fiber sealing an open wound. Skin, pulling itself into one piece. Healing. It felt like… healing. Was this something fueled by Binding Magic, then? Some facilitation of her own ability to repair the damage, accelerating the rate at which she expelled the madness? Or was it something entirely different? It seemed unique, like nothing he’d ever managed before, but he couldn’t understand how to rationalize it—and he couldn’t spend time doing so now, as he was solidifying those connections, stabilizing Ingrid’s path back to reality.
As Ingrid tried to stand to start walking on the bridge but it felt as if the side that once gave comfort shot barbed hooks into her, trying to drag her back. It was hard as even with pain growing with every step, so was the unbelievable comfort it was providing. But she was scared. Scared that it was a lie, she needed to keep going. Every step brought back more memories, the struggles and satisfaction of actually doing could not be replicated. The barbed hooks broke as she went closer and closer to the other side and as she completed her crossing they snapped off and she was free to be who she was. The Light kept growing and the darkness was annihilated in overwhelming light, blinding Ingrid. When the light faded, she could see Kaspar looking over her, And she could only see that same light in him that freed her.
A wave of relief swept through Kaspar as Ingrid’s eyes turned to him, reflecting recognition and understanding. He could feel the energy beginning to pool in his veins, as though no more needed to be given away. The boy leaned back slightly, pulling his hands away, and held her gaze steadily. “You’re alright. We’ve got you,” he consoled, remembering how his tutor would comfort him after a bad dream. Head tilting slightly, the Lightbringer asked, “How do you feel?”
Collaboration with @Force and Fury
“You’re a Lightbringer,” said Jocasta simply. She’d brought herself over as a weapon of last resort for, even as powerful as Ingrid had become, the tethered doubled her. She folded her hands in her lap. With the group having dispersed somewhat and Ingrid having gone with two of the Centuries, she was close to alone with him. “At least… I think so,” she amended. “Did you take in one of the white aberrations?”
Kaspar clenched and flexed his hand, turning it in the daylight as though that might help him understand what had happened. Jocasta’s voice pulled him from the inspection and he looked to her, clear confusion bright in his crimson eyes. “I’m a… what?” he asked softly, almost a murmur as she continued. Slowly, he nodded his head. “I… yes. One, with Silas. What… what did it do?”
“I uh… may have tried to sound a bit too certain,” the blonde admitted, making a bit of a face, “but you could feel something happening when you touched her, right? You felt yourself rebuilding her connection with reality somehow?” She tilted her head to the side, “At least, that’s how it’s been described to me.”
Kaspar pursed his lips for a moment, considering. “It felt like a bridge, I think,” he admitted, “And like… warmth. Energy.” He turned to face Jocasta fully, remembering the way it had felt against the inside of his veins, and leveled his eyes on her, awaiting some sort of explanation.
In the event, the first thing that he received from her was the distinctive sensation of a sonic dampening bubble. “Walk with me?” she asked, setting hands to wheels, “Or you can do the walking.” She didn’t wait to see if he would. She started moving. “Take all and any of his with a grain of salt,” she began, “But it’s something I’ve heard of: there are mana types you can only get from aberrations. That is, unless a book I read a long time ago was wrong. I trusted my source…” She trailed off, glancing his way and smiling reassuringly.
Kaspar felt the bubble expand around them, and his face fell into something distinctly neutral as he recognized Jocasta’s consideration for subtlety. He kept up with her movements, listening to her words but not visibly reacting, eyes intermittently scanning their surroundings for anyone paying an unhealthy amount of attention to the pair. He couldn’t speak to the legitimacy of her source, but the boy believed Jocasta would not speak of this unless she believed it to be important. “And this… Lightbringer? It is one of these supposed mana types?”
She nodded somewhat solemnly, eyes scanning their surroundings. “You got it, bucko.” She shrugged. “At least if I’m remembering right and I wasn’t reading blather.” Despite their… sonically protected surroundings, her voice dropped anyhow, perhaps out of habit. “Don’t quote me on this but, if you wanna learn more, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. You should try the Seaside Exchange.” Jocasta wet her lips nervously and drifted to a stop. “It’s in Mudville. All sorts of goodies there.” She reached into a little pouch hanging off the back of her wheeled-chair and pulled out a little token. This, she pressed into his hand. “This’ll get you in. Policy is leave one, take one, alright?”
The more Jocasta spoke, the more a brick settled in Kaspar’s stomach. What she offered was no sort of official channel—but having healed Ingrid of aberration madness… He could understand why. If it was something he could do reliably, the implications were… complicated. It could rewrite the fundamental approach to aberrations. But if she could offer him anywhere to go, it meant he was not the first or the only. Though he’d never heard of a Lightbringer before, precedent would inform his next steps. His eyes scored down the token she handed him briefly before deft fingers slipped it into his vest, securing it in his wand pocket. “Thank you. Is there… anything else you can tell me?” the noble questioned, his own voice lowered.
Jocasta started moving again, slowly at first, as if thinking hard. Her brow furrowed and she worked her jaw back and forth for a moment. She turned to him and shook her head. “Wish I could, Sucker.” She grinned. “but I’m not even a hundred percent sure my source is one I should trust… not anymore.” Taking note of his ill-ease, she shook her head quickly. “Oh, don’t worry. There’s no real danger,” she assured him. “Even if you get caught, you’ll get a slap on the wrist at worst and people will dismiss it as quackery.” She coasted along beside him. “If it’s like I remember reading and if what you just did for Iingrid is any indication, you’ve got a gift that could help a lot of people.” The bubble began to lift. “Stay safe, friend. Don’t be a stranger, huh?”
He took her lack of further information in stride; it had been unlikely she would withhold anything else, so the result was unsurprising. This would require some deep research and personal testing, all of which seemed difficult to come by. There was the matter, too, of going to those who were far more experienced than himself. Willa would beat him like a rug if he admitted to going near an aberration, much less touching one. There were also the leadership of the Academy—though they knew too much of him and he too little of them to be comfortable revealing this information.
“If the opportunity is to help, I can only hope it will not be taken advantage of by those who do not deserve it,” Kaspar resolved with a nod towards the tethered girl. Trying to bring some levity to his voice as the sound dampening faded, he responded, “It would be hard to stay a stranger for long.”
