Fantasy M E M E N T O ◘ The Taken Seed ◘ ic

[revior]

Finn Arland
​

Finn could only let out a soft chuckle when the young Duchanteau called him out. it would seem that the boy before him was one that respected bloodlines above all else, either that, or a simple jerk seeking to belittle anyone before him. Finn was already all too used to it, to have his words, no matter how reasonable, to fall on deaf ears simply because of his bloodline.

"You are quite right, young lord of Duchanteau," Finn replied, smiling, "I am indeed a lesser noble unworthy of your attention."

Even so, Finn thought, what of it? It did no matter. The rules of this institution were clear. There would be no violence amongst students without authorization. It really didn't matter what the Duchanteau boy thought of it. Finn's only worry was that this child here would just started blasting magic without any regards for the rules and hurt someone before anyone could do anything about it, and seeing that he was weaving a rune as he spoke, Finn's fear seemed to be closer to reality than he would like to imagine.

"However, that does not change the fact that there are rules in this institution, and what would our society be like without rules? They are what hold our great civilization together. As such those who cannot follow the rules would be lower than scum, do you not agree?"

By this point, Finn was still trying to reason with the boy, even playing the devil's advocate to appear to his pride, futile as it may be. Subtly, he moved in-between Enn and the servant she was covering hoping that if spells do come flying, he, a Nullreiwmer would be the one to receive the blow. At least that was the plan, till things began to escalate to a near catastrophic height.

It was mustard, mustard all over, mustard everywhere, right on top of Constance. Along with the mustard came snide remarks from here and there, from newcomers who have inserted themselves to the situation. Looking at the seething nobleman, Finn knew that there was going to be a duel, authorized or not, right here and right now. Even as cold sweat dripped down his back, Finn knew that there would be nothing more he could do.

When all hope was lost, however, a maidservant entered into the fray, apparently bearing a message for the young Duchanteau, apparently from one lady Fontana. Her words, borne by a proxy, proved enough to diffuse the situation.

Perhaps drawn by the ruckus, a gargoyle, no, a Sitri entered the room, making its presence known with its powerful wings. Form the words it spoke, it was assumed that this must be the guardian of the school grounds. Soon following it, was Principle Deepwater himself who immediately began to preside over the situation.

It was only when it was clear that the ordeal was over, did Finn let out a sigh. His hands upon his chest, feeling his heart beast strongly enough to hurt, the sickly man was glad that it all ended as well as it did. And while it was somewhat disheartened for his lack of ability to dissuade the young Duchanteau, he was, at the same time, encouraged by the fact that there were others here willing to lend a helping hand. Once again, he affirmed that this wasn't just a dog eat dog world after all. There are still kind and generous souls around.

***​

His shoulder would jump slightly when tapped his shoulder. Turning around, he was greeted by Enn, thanking him and introducing herself.

"It's no biggie and I didn't even really do much," he tried to play it cool as he shook her hand despite the whirlwind of emotions he's feeling within. "But you sure have a knack for causing a scene, don't you Miss Velahl. It's only the second day and you're the center of attention twice in a row." He then chuckled, showing that he was only joking.

Lekiel

When Ayer approached, Finn pulled away for a few steps back in spikte of himself. Somehow, Ayer had the kind of chatic energy about him that made Finn wary. He was like a maelstrum of trouble, one that Finn felt like he might be pulled into if he wasn't careful. Still, Finn knew from his previous actions that Ayer was a kind soul deep down regardless of how he behaved. Even if the Ayer and Finn couldn't be any more different, this meeting was undoubtedly a good thing.

"Finn Arland. Well met, Lord Lecomte," Finn replied to him with a smile. Though, said smile only lasted briefly when he had a peek of the symbols upon Ayer's skin, hidden behind the wrappings on his neck that were beggining to become undone.

It was a shame that he had only a small window of time to study them. Were they runes? Were they part of some tradition? Or were they merely decorative? Finn tilted his head in thought, wondering if he should ask about it or was that poking too much into another person's privacy.

"Hm? A scarf?" The mention of a gift by Ayre snapped Finn out of his thoughts. "Only if it doesn't come with food all over it," he said with a smile, his tone clearly teasing.

Euclid Leaf

 

[Ignem]

IGNEM ASPHALT
​

As Ignem was walking towards where Enn was seated, he saw her get up and pass by him while mouthing a good morning.

'Well since she has left, I might as well head back to my seat..' He thought and made his way to where he was sitting. He sat on the chair and stared at the blank space in front of him, waiting for the breakfast time to be over. He was then broken off his trance when he heard a loud crash. He saw a crowd forming from where the crash came from. Getting up Ignem made his way to the crowd to see what happened.

Reaching the crowd he saw a maid on the floor and a student shouting in anger on a.... tea stain?

'Oh so he is a brat...' Cobalt thought on seeing him yell about who made his uniform. Though he was surprised seeing Enn stand up for the servant girl. She was not someone to have this much courage to do things like this, weird. He then saw more people stand with Enn for the servant girl. The fight went on for some more time till the Headmaster Deepwater came.

'Well the thing is over now...' Ignem thought and headed back to his isolated seat, waiting for the end of the breakfast and the start of the lesson.

 

[Wilder28]

Adrius Devereux

References: Lekiel Euclid Leaf RI.a revior Mqueserasera

Adrius, who had steadily been holding Constance's gaze in the moments following his provocation, was admittedly surprised to find that the entitled brat didn't respond with so much as a withering retort. Instead, the taller noble smiled, with much more control than the Evoker even thought him capable of. He couldn't help but be a little impressed.

Then, he saw his eyes begin to dart around, and as Adrius followed his gaze, he began to see that apparently, this man was beginning to connect the dots.

"Do you take me for a fool, scum of Devereux?" Constance asked him scornfully, a malicious grin now growing on his face.

Unfazed by the slur, Adrius' response came in the form of a small nod. "Yes, actually," he bluntly stated in an almost friendly tone. But that hardly dissuaded him; Constance continued on regardless, as if he hadn't even spoken, now turning to address the crowd as if he were a stage performer rather than some kid a dining hall.

"You being my witnesses, here I offered a duel to claim my right as civilized men do!" He began, eliciting yet another eyebrow-raised from the smaller blond. "But alas, instead of accepting the challenge by show of word, this troop of dishonorable decided to strike first! There was no way this could've been an accident!"

As he had likely hoped, the young Ducanteau's speech had roused the surrounding crowd into a frenzy.

Or, well, the part of it that kissed up to him, at least. Everyone else seemed just stunned, disquieted, or quite frankly, confused, and rightly so. Even Kieran, who stood on the sidelines alongside Zelos, was eyeing the man as if genuinely questioning his sanity. And as for Adrius himself, the sheer absurdity of the situation was enough to have him very nearly descend into another fit of snickers. As much as he wanted to take this situation at least a little more seriously, he was honestly finding it pretty difficult.

And still, Constance continued, making gestures that were so blatantly overacted that he actually had to laugh.

"They thought they could blind me... disrupt my sight to gain advantage over this duel... I'll show them, Tyce! Let's show these uncouth children what a proper duel looks like."

Hearing his name called out, the red-clad magician in question - who had been regarding his companion with something akin to concern - blinked once, then turned his gaze to Adrius. "... Alright." Straightening up, he flicked a bit of mustard off his robe and strode to the fore with an air of utmost confidence. Whether or not he actually cared that much for Constance's honor was honestly up in the air, but he scarcely passed up any opportunity to take a shot at his fellow Evoker.

"On your feet, Northlander!" Constance called toward Ayer. "And you Devereux, I'm counting you in... unless you're too cowardly to face me like a man."

In response to this provocation, Adrius just looked between the two of them, as if genuinely considering his options. Usually when engaging in a serious duel, he took his cloak off in advance, so as to prevent it from hindering his movement or getting lit on fire. But he did no such thing this time around. Not even when Tyce walked up and stood across from him, his hawk Foliot perched proudly upon his shoulder. "Hands up," he ordered curtly. "We're doing this."

Adrius was never the most powerful Evoker in the Ivory Tower. That title belonged to the magician who now stood before him, at least as far as the students went. But while Tyce had the advantage in that regard, Adrius had always made up for it in speed and creativity. He could cast three spells in the time it took his Tyce to cast one, and while they weren't bound to do as much damage, he tended to find other ways to make them useful. And while he wasn't quite so good at taking a hit, most opponents he'd faced had trouble landing a blow on him to begin with. So, all things considered, they were roughly evenly matched.

For a moment, Adrius glanced aside at Ayer, his apparent dueling partner, and then briefly turned his attention to Kieran and Zelos. His demon stood at the ready, poised to jump in at a moment's notice; but his Abjuror friend seemed more anxious, glancing frequently at the dining hall entrance for any sign of his Foliot. He had yet to begin tracing any rune, but it was clear enough that he was preparing to cast Flux or Mirrorwall if need be. Lastly, he gave a brief look in the direction of the servant girl, who he wasn't too surprised to find was still very much present.

Facing ahead again, he just shrugged. "Suppose we are, then."

Despite this decision, he still remained in the same relaxed stance, washing as Tyce began to take action-

Only to be interrupted by the arrival of a redheaded maid.

“Ex-Excuse me! Sir Duchanteau,” She called out, her voice cutting through the tension and giving pause to those involved.

"WHAT!?" Came Constance's furious response, as he whirled on the servant with such ferocity that Adrius as convinced he would take a shot at her first. Nearby, he saw Kieran's fingertips alight as he prepared to cast a Flux and nullify whatever spell was to be thrown; but as the Duchanteau seemed to rein his emotions and dispel the magic, he proceeded to do the same, stepping back into the crowd almost shyly. It was a small action, likely to have been missed had Adrius not been paying attention.

Constance, for his part, seemed to have his focus now entirely on the maid. "SPEAK!" he shouted at the poor girl, who only then proceeded to relay her message.

And once it had been relayed, Adrius' expression became one of combined interest, surprise, and even a little amusement as he glanced over in Euphemia's direction. Apparently, she had a knack for insulting people in the most refined way. Was that just a skill that all nobles of her stature shared? He certainly didn't have it.

Either way, he was, again, impressed, and he faced Constance once more during the silence that ensued, waiting for his answer - as did Tyce, Kieran, and virtually everyone else in the vicinity. And for his part, the Duchanteau looked uncharacteristically contemplative, especially for someone who'd gotten criticized the way he had. Must have been a rare occasion for him to be told off by someone of higher status.

Eventually, he reached a verdict: "We're done here."

Kieran was very visibly relieved, and though Tyce hesitated, he stood down all the same. Adrius himself remained as relaxed as he had been before, though he was inwardly glad that he didn't have to play the dodging game that'd have inevitably occurred if Constance hadn't ended this farce. After all, he had had no intention of firing so much as a bolt himself.

He made now to return to Kieran, to leave Duchanteau be, but before he could, a figure descended from one of the stone parapets above. As it landed, Adrius practically lept clear almost by pure reflex, giving it space to land between them all. Then, once it touched down and stood up to its full height, he gazed upon it and quickly found that it was one of the gargoyles from above - a Sitri, it seemed like. Not all of Highover's sentinels were perched on the outer borders of the city, apparently.

"Unauthorized violent altercations between students are forbidden on school grounds," the demon boomed, which immediately brought to mind what Enn had said only moments before. And, sure enough, a glance in her direction revealed that she was mouthing the words as it said them. So it was a Highover rule after all.

Then he turned to Constance, who he now noted with some amusement sported yet another stain on his outfit. And naturally, the Duchanteau tried to deny his intentions, attempting to put the blame on poor Ayer instead. He'd have objected, but to be frank, he found it far more entertaining to just watch the proceedings. It wasn't like anyone would actually believe him, after all.

"What's the meaning of this?" Another voice rang throughout the hall, and Adrius turned now to see Principal Oulders Deepwater making an entrance with three spirits in tow, one of whom he recognized to be Moros. The raven Foliot in question was quick to make his way back to his master the moment he saw him, and as he perched upon Kieran's shoulder, the brunette murmured an inaudible word of thanks.

As the principal approached, the students around him began to quiet. "We haven't even begun with our first Trials and already trouble brews-" He cut himself off as he came to a stop and surveyed the comical scene before him. Seeing his gaze sweep over him, Adrius opted to just smile and wave, like nothing out of the blue had gone down just now.

It was then that the Sitri approached Deepwater, kneeling down and beginning what he figured to be a process of telepathic exchange. When it was over and the Sitri was released, the Principal then called out the names of each of those involved - himself and Tyce included. The latter seemed less than happy about this, but he hardly objected, following a more carefree Adrius as they made their way up before the man.

During the lecture that ensued, Adrius hardly seemed bothered, simply nodding and agreeing breezily with the Principal's statements. Beside him, Tyce was considerably more solemn, but he too agreed to remain on his best behavior without question. Once they were finally dismissed, he was quick to turn and make his way back to the table he'd been in, not even sparing Adrius another glance. At the same time, the blond did more or less the same thing, returning to Kieran with a smile.

"I'd say that went well enough, wouldn't you agree?" He asked jauntily.

Kieran gave him a skeptical look. "Mm. It could've gone better."

Adrius shrugged. "Could've gone worse, too."

Kieran frowned slightly, but didn't argue. "I suppose so," was his only response as the two now made their way to a few other students nearby.


"Hello, excuse me." Enn would receive a small tapping on her shoulder, and upon turning, she would find Kieran standing before her with Adrius at his side. "Apologies for bothering you, but we wanted to check and see if you were doing alright," the Abjuror told her. "We'd have asked the servant, but she seems to have departed." He did a brief look around the room as he said this, and indeed, the servant girl was nowhere to be seen. "... At any rate, I would like to apologize on behalf of my schoolmates. I promise you we at the Ivory Tower aren't all bad." He gave her a smile, albeit a somewhat awkward one.

Beside him, Adrius nodded in agreement. "Right. And allow me to add that I appreciate what you did back there. Not a lot of people are willing to do that sort of thing. Not as far as nobles are concerned anyway. So from a couple of low-borns, you have our thanks," He added with a grin. Then, he turned to Ayer, whom his grin widened upon seeing. "And same to you, Ayer my goodman! I've seen and experienced all manner of wild shenanigans, but I can't say I've ever seen anyone pull off what you did back there. Well done, my friend." He gave the tall Northlander a friendly pat on the shoulder, and then finally faced the two, less familiar Finn and Arya.

He greeted them in much the same cordial way. "And again, same to you two. Arya Holmes and... Finn Arland, was it? I am Adrius, the scum of Devereux," he introduced, with a playful smile. "And beside me is my friend Kieran Holloway. A fan of yours, if you hadn't noticed, Ms. Holmes," he added with a grin. Kieran, who had been standing by shyly, now paused and looked to him with widened eyes. "Uh- don't word that way, please." He then turned to Arya and gave a small, sheepish smile. "But yes, I'm familiar with your family, as well as most of the upper echelons of society. It's a pleasure to meet you. And, er, I do apologize for the staring earlier. I had been lost in thought, I'm afraid."

Adrius smiled at him, before turning to Finn. "My apologies for stepping in on your operation the way that I did, by the by. But I know Constance, at least to an extent. Your approach was perfectly logical and within reason, and I admire it, but his own ego prevents him from recognizing such things. It was something of a lost cause, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "Of course, that's not to say my way of doing things turned out any better. Ms. Fontana seems to have outdone us all."

 

[revior]

Finn Arland
​

"Scum of Devereux..." Finn was confused when Adrius introduced himself as such, not quite catching the joke. "I thought that was just an insult but... No, I suppose we each have our customs. Well met, Sir Devereux." Finn extended a hand to his strange new acquaintance.

When being apologized to for stepping in on his attempt to diffuse the situation, Finn gave a light chuckle. It'd be lying if he said that he didn't mind it, but it wasn't as if his own way of doing things was exactly working out the way he was hoping it would, so no harm was really done.

"No, that's quite fine, we're all just trying to help in our own different ways. It was actually somewhat encouraging to know that quite a few others were of the same mind as I."

But was it? Finn thought briefly. Was it encouraging though?

They damn near gave him a heart attack when mustard started flying everywhere. Well, that was just Ayer Lecomte, but still... No, in the end, it probably did lift some weight off of his shoulders knowing that even if he couldn't resolve the problem, someone else might be able to.

"Well, I suppose in the end, we still have much to learn. We must thank our good friend Constance for such an opportunity, yes?" he said with a jesting tone.

Wilder28

 

[Wilder28]

Adrius Devereux

References: revior

Noting his fellow student's apparent confusion, Adrius gave a light-hearted grin in response as he reached out and gave the Hinokian's hand a friendly shake. "Indeed we do. I don't care much for insults, personally. I like to own up to them," he explained casually. "If that makes any sense." It probably didn't.

At the man's jest, Adrius gave a light chuckle of his own. "Yes, we should indeed. I'd have never imagined that Duchanteau of all people would be one to teach life lessons, but I suppose what they say is true. Anything can happen here in Highover."

Adjusting his cloak, he gave a brief look around the room, noting the many students who were still coated in mustard. He noticed Tyce standing at his table once again, scrubbing his robe furiously so as to get the mustard out. Next to him poor Hemera seemed to be lamenting the ruined state of her outfit, as she'd apparently gotten quite a bit on her. And, of course, Valton was still seated at his table, completely ignoring his plate of food in favor of working on his designs. Naturally, this meant that his Foliot, a ferret-like creature, was entirely free to help himself to it.

"... Well, it's certainly been an interesting experience so far, wouldn't you say? More so than I've been led to expect."

 

[Lekiel]

revior
"But you sure have a knack for causing a scene, don't you Miss Velahl. It's only the second day and you're the centre of attention twice in a row." Finn chuckled.

Despite knowing that he was merely jesting, Enn couldn't help but feel her cheeks heat up again, at the subtle mention of the incidents on the prior day. Unsure how to respond, she only managed a nervous giggle before Finn's attention was thankfully diverted by Ayer. Clearly it wasn't Finn himself that put her at unease as it was the question he asked. If anything, the lanky young man's presence was much like a wizened old tree. One that invoked nostalgia of remembering something that was larger when you were younger, yet when revisited, it appeared somewhat physically unimpressive as memory would have it. Nevertheless, it was a comforting presence of sincerity, one she could, inexplicably, tell by looking into his deep tawny irises.

A light tap on her shoulder stole Enn away from her reverie and she turned to come face-to-face to the Kal`Borian duo she'd only just met before the mustard hit the fan.

Wilder28
"Oh... don't apologize on behalf of others who think th-they can just do as they please!" she responded with surprising vehemence, as a light of righteousness or perhaps, naive idealism sparked in her slate-blue eyes, "father says ill-mannered people can come from anywhere." The girl added though she omitted the part that Samael had added: even family.
"Oh don't thank me! I think we all knew when we should stand up for what's right," Enn replied, a warm smile on her face, "and take action together to face the problem."
"Delia, the maid, was called to go but she told me to send her thanks. . ." Enn then lowered her voice conspiratorially as she glanced from Adrius to Kieran, "she says you guys are free to call in the kitchens for food any time. She makes the best key lime pie!"
"I should tell the others. . ." Enn backed away from the conversation with a few parting words, "see you at the trial, Adrius. . . Kieran, you should come watch too. I'd be glad if you do!"

--
**Finn Arland gains '+1 honour' for his admirable attempt as a result of this event.
**Euphemia Aurelia Fontana gains '+1 charm' for her actions as a result of this event.
**Ayer Lecomte gains '+1 audacity' for his actions as a result of this event.
**Adrius Devereaux gains '+1 vision' for his actions as a result of this event.
**Arya Holmes gains '+1 stoicism' for her actions as a result of this event.
Add them to your 'Status Effects'. For those that did not directly participate, do not worry, as these effects do not give any character statistical advantage. Nevertheless, these status effects will affect the results of your Reckoning.
**As Zima decided to move on first, a curious experience is triggered.

⋨⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋩​

--The Chosen students are divided into a couple batches, each heading to different locations to begin their trials. Our group consists largely of only us. I haven't yet decided if I want to add an NPC.

The Western Gardens was located in an until now, forbidden section of Highover Institute of Magic. Located a little way out from the main castle, the chosen students walked under an elegantly carved stone archway, on either side stood stoic Daols in hulking elaborate armour. Large Silverite halberds uncrossed as the students approached, allowing passage to a pathway lined by carefully cultivated low bushes. Smaller pathways branched off on either side, leading into a maze of trees and the occasional glimpse of statues and other various ornaments. Peeking in between the tall pines, was the looming snow-capped top of the greatest mountain in the Highover Isles; Skyreach Mount. Like the claws of some ancient godlike behemoth, a clutch of obsidian peaks curved into the cloudy sky grasping at the heavens like its namesake. From this angle, they appeared closer than ever.

The cobbled pathway extended for about half a mile, lazily weaving in between shrubs, blooming deep purple flowers and tall pines. At the final bend, the pathway widened gradually leading through yet another elaborate stone arch - this one covered in green moss. Stepping through the archway, the students now found themselves in a clearing, carpeted by a decently kept grass and a large stone fountain at its centre, carved out of a towering slab of smooth rock set in the middle of a small pond. Circular in make, further inspection revealed some sort of pentacle pattern upon its smooth surface. Several high stools were lined up in neat double rows, off to one side of the clearing, where several students had already gathered about to spectate. Seated by the water's edge on the fountain's parapet was a middle-aged woman dressed in elegant black and silver trimmed robes. She had a shock of silver hair fashioned into a layered bob. Beside her, was a woman nearly young enough to be mistaken for her daughter fiddling with an assortment of items on a wooden table. Dressed in a prim cornflower blue dress, her brown hair was tied into a high ponytail. A pair of goggles resting on her crown completed her immaculate ensemble. The older woman looked up with a broad smile as the first of you approached, greeting the group in with a rich alto timbre.

"Good morning! You're all finally here." Her silver eyes scanned the group of students, resting a little longer on Ignem as a kind of pride reflected in her eyes as she regarded one of her best students. She'd expect nothing but the best out of him.

"Please step closer."

When everyone had finally gathered, the woman stood to her feet revealing herself to be easily the height of the tallest student. "To those here for the first time, allow me to once again extend a warm welcome to Highover Institute of Magic." Her eyes flickered over each foreign student, and despite her warm demeanour, one couldn't shake the feeling of being studied like how a hawk looks for its prey. "To the rest of you... welcome back!"

"I am Vixianne Delacour, Mistress Conjurer of Highover. This lovely woman by my side is Ms Regalia Loftgarden, our very own Mistress Enchantra, no doubt some of you may already know of her esteemed accomplishments..."

"Compliments completely unnecessary Madame Delacour..." A small laugh escaped Regalia's lips at her former mentor's digression in her benefit. She stepped forward with a slight dipping curtsey, "my warmest welcome, dearest students from far and near!" Her voice was bright and airy. The Mistress Enchantra had a very comely demeanour about her that would instantly put anyone at ease. Enn had always found herself drawn to the Mistress Enchantra. Whatever small conversations they'd had, always gave her the impression that the young instructor always sought out the best for her charges.

"So you're all here as the finest of your class, a position no doubt you've acquired through no small feat. And for that, well done on your part!" The Mistress Conjurer continued. "But don't let that get to your head... as the trials you'll face during your Reckoning, are not easy. In fact, a small slip would not only mean failure. . . it may even cost you your life." Delacour paused, turning to regard each student in turn to gauge their reactions.

"But worry not... the reason why the Mistress Enchantra, my other colleagues whom you'll be meeting later, and I are here, is to ensure that you'll be adequately prepared for your Reckoning and the dangers of what it means to be a Master Magician. Walk with me." Leading the students around the fountain, the Mistress Conjurer revealed a separate open section of the garden. One filled with shallow ponds, and carved stone pillars that stood around seemingly at random places. Some were cracked and some were toppled to the ground. All appeared to have some sort of unknown rune etched onto their rough surfaces. In the midst of everything, was a large metal cage nearly ten feet in height. Warding runes shimmered all around, ensuring that whatever was within was contained not just by mere physical means. Nonetheless, the shimmering magical prison also visually obscured whatever was contained within into nothing but a dark mass of smoke. As the students came into view, the prisoner rattled the cage, bumping the metal prison so furiously sparks of blue exploded as the wards were triggered. An animalist snarl drifted towards them on the wind.

"Within that cage, is your first trial. One which you'll face as a group. I am sure by now, you're all familiar with the notion of unbound demons. Violent spirits, sometimes with no specific class that have somehow breached the Precepts from the Other Side and come into our world. This afternoon, you'll use whatever means you have at your disposal to banish, trap, or defeat this demon. It's as straight forward as that... oh yes-" Delacour paused as she saw the Mistress Enchantra begin walking among the students. Regalia turned to smile at her colleague before turning back to the student before her, a tall blonde woman with blue eyes. Zima Utkin.

Holding up a hand, she indicated at her imprifle with a nod of her head and a smile.
"May I?" Regalia inquired.

Seeing the Mistress Enchantra begin her work, Vixianne Delacour continued with her instructions. "Those of you who would like the Mistress Enchantra to appraise your equipment may approach her to do so. I suspect she'll be pleased to inspect them and provide the appropriate fine-tuning if necessary. Additionally, if you prefer to use the weapons of an accomplished Enchanter you may request it from her as well. Afterall a Magician is only as good as their tools!"

--Those who wish to interact with the Mistress Enchantra may speak to her with the assumption that her previous conversation is completed. i.e. you do not have to wait for others to complete their conversation, this is mainly to save time. The Mistress Enchantra also has an array of Imprifles on offer to those who require one.

"For the rest of you, you may ask me any relevant questions if you wish. Otherwise, you may proceed to stand by the pillars if you're ready... But don't get too close to the cage, not yet at least!"

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Ayer Lecomte - Highover Academy, Western Gardens

Mentions;
Wilder28 / RI.a / revior / Lekiel / Mqueserasera Ace Cream

"You know, after wearing mustard for an extended period, I've noticed my complexion has gotten brighter and cleaner... I just feel refreshsed! Maybe we should replace our room's water reservoir pipe with one containing a stream of mustard? Don't you agree, Frumpy?"
"I agree, you'd tasted better too!" the little Frumpy chimed, flapping lazily next to the redhead.
"Boo. I wanted a taste. Why does Frumpy get all the fun? Huh? Huh?" groaned Ponkipie, while Pinkleton made a similarly unhappy face.
"Did you really think I forgot about you two?" Ayer said smiling. He reached into his coat and brought out a glass jar in the air.

Inside was a dull yellow liquid that hit the light of the sun, and started to gleam like pure gold. Ordinarily, mustard wouldn't shine. But it was a fixture he had mixed earlier. Mustard alone was great, but mixing it with honey gave a texture and taste that was simply divine. Along with a secret ingredient that made the liquid almost bounce in the jar like jelly.
As if it really was precious gold, he delicately turned the jarhead once.

With a sniff of their stubby little noses, the implings sunken black eyes went wide. They waited not even a second. The imps swarmed his hand like a shiver of starved sharks. They practically bit and clawed at each other for the prize of the delicious yellow innards contained within. At this rate, there wouldn't be any jar left to speak of. But he allowed them to fight over it, watching over the with a giggle. This was just how these demons had fun.

No use carving their nature.

After the... eventful breakfast, Ayer had been found in the middle of sketching down the design of stray weather vane on a rooftop of the castle. He was promptly reminded, not first after being scolded of the safety procedures upheld by Highover by the teacher, to attend the first trial of the Reckonig. Ayer and his ragtag gang of implings were now trailing with the main group, neither to the front or the side. He was just in the middle of things, as always. Since the incident at breakfast, he made sure to clean up his act. In more ways than one. He looked notably different. And it wasn't just because he wasn't drenched in sour, tangy dipping sauce either. In terms of fashion, Ayer always looked like he was in flux between deciding to go to the bazaar, or ready for a snowy hike into the mountains in the tundra. However, it seemed now he was ready for an expedition into the deep tundra itself. Among his colorful scarves, heralds, and long coat were odd bits of fastened metal and leather devices. Across his left arm seemed like a peculiar gadget that was a strange dense iron gauntlet made out of bolts, wires, gauges, and indicators. One wouldn't think such a scrawny man would be able to carry so much as his own flimsy weight. But there was such a large saddlebag across his back that it seemed comical.

But Ayer didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, there was a bit of an extra kick to his step with the added weight. Wait, weren't his loafers a bit different too? He was wearing protectors, to preserve the heel and toe. A shrewd in some ways, needlessly flamboyant in another.

As always, while Ayer was what many would consider not taking the serious situation very seriously, this allowed him to play the part of an unassuming fool. He was allowed to observe under the guise and act of incompetence and harmless play. Surprisingly, the group comprised of the very same people he had directly interacted with at the earlier breakfast. A memorable event made even more significant. As a skeptic, he would say it was more than just 'innocent fate' that brought them here together. Not that he wanted to complain. Greetings get tiring after doing it a few dozen times a day. Nothing more droll than an overdone routine. While Ayer always greeted everyone with a smile and a bit of hurrah, one particular Euphemia would have received an embarrassing amount of praise and apology from the imp father. He would've probably even had his imps join in on the fanfare.

Wilder28 / RI.a / revior / Mqueserasera Ace Cream

This was just how he declared to someone that he owed them a favor. He would much rather it be a public thing, signing his own approval, rather than a history that someone can use against him unwillingly and uncordially.
For the others whom he had acquainted, Ayer delivered an apology to Enn, measured Arya's and Finn's neck for future reference. Asking permission first, of course.
He even gave Zima a warm greeting, but mostly talked to the humorous foliot Totoro. At least, he would try to.
As for Adrius, there was no need to show his appreciation beyond a simple 'hello'. The fact that Ayer followed him instead of anyone else was proof enough of his amiability towards the evoker.

Either way, he was just happy to be on the move. And there was a lot of it. The party had traveled half a mile through stone-pathed gardens and groves by the time they reached another checkpoint. A stone arch covered in evergreen moss that grew up from the ground. This time, instead of a pair of heavily armored Doals, they were greeted by a pair of arcane professors. Ayer had been in the habit of appreciating the view thus far, taking everything with a soft and steady gesture. But Ayer looked like he had been possessed the moment his eyes locked onto the face of one of the instructors. Some might say he was love-struck. At that point, the redhead had made a beeline, ignoring everything else around him. He pushed through past the gathering spectators and walked without even once glancing at the details of the sacred nature of the nearby enchanted pond and rock-carved fountain.

If the others thought Ayer was ordinarily high energy and excitable, then he was practically blasting through the sky on a high. The redhead was jumping up and down as the group approached, akin to a kid who has had much, much too much sugar.

He was so set focused that he practically blanketed everything the Mistress Conjurer was saying, barely emoting enough to avoid trouble and making it too obvious. When it came to the introduction of the person whom he was actually interested in, Ayer practically shouted.

"Of course! Madam Loftgarden is the genius behind Loftgarden's Legion! To even be able to command a legion of deadly imps warriors requires both incredible skill and finesse. Not to mention charisma! Being so small, they are able to attack weak points not usually reachable by normal demons. Truly, a visionary of our current generation!"

And he would've continued shouting admirations, if not for the fact that Lady Loftgarden had begun speaking herself. Ayer cut himself off with bated breath, his eye shining ever brighter as he took in each and every word she said, as if transcribing it deep into his little heart. One might even mistake his visible appreciation for adoration, or something even more.

His chest puffed out in pride as she spoke well of their accomplishments, but his face frowned at the thought of death. But not of himself, oddly enough. His eyes glanced worrying around to the imps fluttering beside him. He knew all too well how the magical world thought of these creatures. They were weak. That was the truth. But he wanted to prove that even the weakest can be strong. That strength is not given. it is earned.

That was why he looked up to the Mistress Enchantra. She was the paragon of this ideal.
Ayer wanted to just ignore the trial and speak to her more.

He was so possessed by the daydream of sharing an afternoon sharing theories that even Frumpy had to knock on his head.
"Hey! Everyone is moving ahead of you, master! Stop daydreaming! I'll piss on you!"
Ayer blinked a few times, "Right, right! ... And please don't do that. Ever."

His loafers clacked against the paved stone as Ayer hurriedly to catch up to the Mistress Conjurer leading the group deeper into a secluded section of the garden. A quick slap on his cheeks with a hand brought him back to focus. Somewhat. He peered across the guarded area with wonder. Judging by how unkempt and ruined the structures remained, it seemed they were in a part of the gardens that was sealed away and kept secret. Even the light seemed dimmer in this area. And soon he began to understand why.

Even before seeing the caged demon, the gadget on his wrist began to light up. The one on the far right. A light above the miasma detector had registered and the gauge below began to rise. And it only ticked higher as they walked towards the misty prison at the center of the scattered ponds and old pillars. With how rapidly the bar had risen, this was no joke of a demon. It was also fluctuating between points. Ayer's smile tensed as he watched the gauge flutter, knowing that this was not only a strong demon. But an unstable, wild one.

His heart began to race. Ayer had to strain his face to keep distant memories locked. The trio implings seemed to share his sentiment, growing visibly restless as the party drew closer. While normally smiling, like their master Ayer, the implins bar their fangs at the caged demon. They even hissed. It was almost as if they were reverting to more primal instincts in its untamed presence.

He hadn't hoped for the very first trial to be a straight up banishment, but this was the Reckoning after all. He was glad he came prepared. When the Mistress Conjurer confirmed his suspicions Ayer glanced around at his party with a smile that disguised his true concern.

His eyes landed on Adrius, "Looks like our promise before has fulfilled itself already. It's almost like a duel, isn't it? Not even much different. Constance is a demon in his own right. I'll keep your back, partner."

"As for everyone else, I'm prepared to play the role of a rook. I'll watch the flanks and provide support." he said, looking over at Arya and Finn with equal vigor, "You two have proven to be the actionable sort. Such confidence doesn't arrive from nowhere. Let me see what you're truly capable of in a fight!"

Spoiler: awkward fanboy

(I may have posted first, but I think the others would have finished inspection before Ayer.)

When it came time for inspection, Ayer was only reminded to stop daydreaming about the Feria's most prestigious enchantech magician when she suddenly came up to him face to face.
He nearly screamed, backing away as if he had just awoken in the presence of a goddess.

"Aha... As much of an honor it will be use on of your fine instruments Lady Loftgarden, truly... I think it's more fitting that such a test is examined through my own skill. Thus, failure is my own sole responsibility. As a Chosen, I would not want to have the weight of the world on my shoulders if I am not qualified to carry it...."

The tall man made an awkward laugh as he plopped down his big bag of things and began searching. He seemed both overly stiff yet incredibly loose. He was huddled on the floor trying to keep composure while fishing out a quarter section of metal pieces, all of which to untrained eyes would look like a mess of pipes, rods, and gears. His hands were shaking. An unnatural sight for a man who was usually firmly confident in any situation. Frequently, he would bring out wrong pieces, returning them to the bag, then bringing out a completely different piece. As if realizing he was getting nowhere, he took a short breath and began to focus. Ayer tried to reason with his nervousness. Logic. That was how his brain functioned, after all. Perhaps he can tame it this way?

Come now, Ayer. Focus! Focus! This isn't new, is it? This is just a normal evaluation by a professor. Just like a project being graded in class. The person standing right here definitely isn't the person whom you have spent the last few years of study idolizing in secret. Not at all. Lady Loftgarden definitely isn't here to judge me and deem my handiwork acceptable or not. It wasn't like, with one mere word of disapproval, she could destroy one of the most defining passions of my entire life. Thus, crippling my already fragile sense of self-esteem. No way!

A fire burned in his eyes, but it quickly fettered just as fast. As the logical mechanisms began to work full circle.

...But what if she did? Others surely have. I did skip reading the fine tinkering engineering manuals a few times... Maybe she is one who grades based on precision and form rather than pure result? I did have to cut some corners to gain efficiency in this design... Maybe she will disapprove after all... Would I be able to live with the shame? Maybe being a magician wasn't worth it, if Loftgarden didn't approve of me. If that's the case... Will I even be fitting to continue life, at that point...?

All at once, these thoughts crossed his mind. Ayer was by now, in complete and utter panic. It wasn't working. Logic seemed to only justify his fears. He began to breath in and out loudly, almost comically as he tried to assemble the first pieces. In this haste, he fumbled a mana casing chamber while bringing it out of the bag. He screamed internally as a series of silverite bullets within the unset cylinder slipped out and rolled into the grass nearby.

"Umm... Let me get those..." he said apologetically, bowing his head more times than one could count as he crawled over to find his silverite bullets.

Darn it. Why does it have to be her? He cursed. Maybe a bit of imp piss might actually do good on waking me up?

"Master, what are you doing? You look like an elementary schooler who peed himself on the first day of school because he couldn't find the toilet!" said a hushed impling.
"It's all part of the plan..." said Ayer, clearly not believing his own words.

"Speaking of piss... Oh nevermind."
Ayer while in truth, a fully grown man, waddled on his hands and knees in the grass like a lost child rummaging around the darkness, looking for a lost toy. It took a frustrated Frumpy to remind him that he had a functional brain.
"The light! Use the hand light!" the demon said, tail curling up, "Stop thinking about girls!"
"Girls, girls, girls!" whisper chanted Ponkipie and Pinkleton from behind.
"You two quiet! And you! I'm not thinking about girls! Or any girl! I am thinking about the Girl. Madam Loftgarden's approval or disapproval is the ultimate decree for an enchantech mage. Don't you see what's on the line here?" snarled Ayer, as he tried to keep from being too loud. "But you're right... Frumpy, your idea. In you go."

Raising the gauntlet hand, Frumpy began to softly glow as magic was transferred.

With a twist of a lever, the glove gadget on his left hand began to shimmer as the scales fixated across the side of the palm began to reflect and glow. The scales of a moonreaver tortoise are notorious for imitating the glow of moonlight, these nocturnal predators using these flashes of light as a means to disorientate their prey in the deep ocean. The effect can be brought out very easily. All one needed was a small dose of mana. Acquiring such prized scales, is a completely different matter in itself. Aiming the focused beam of pale glistening moonlight forward, he began seeing the bullets by their soft glitter in the shaded grass.

"Ponkiepie, Pinkleton. Over there! I'll get this one here."

Once Ayer was done grooming the grove for the precious bullets, he came back with an embarrassed laugh, "Ah, sorry for that... I'm not usually this... Well, I'm not sure what." he lied, "Ah, maybe my hands still have mustard residue on them? Messy breakfast. Yes, that must be the case!"

"But enough excuses... have to finish assembling the rifle." he said, bending over. Then he slapped himself. His right cheek grew bright red. "Okay... Now, I think I'm good."
Without another reminder, he started to pry open a case and snap a metal gate into place, sliding the long barrel down the pinion. The first step of many.

Ayer continued to scramble, but eventually he managed to finish. In truth, it didn't take long after all the pieces had been laid out. But to him, it felt like he was attaching segments for an hour. With an uncertain look, he presented the imprifle to the Mistress Enchantra. Looking at the completed piece, it was clear why he needed to assemble it instead of having the weapon fully built all the time like other imprifles. It was a bulky and extremely long weapon, almost like a miniature revolver-like cannon. There were no embellishments or extra flashy bits to speak of. All the pieces are in service to their purpose, and nothing more. The weapon was almost crude, a raw design, a complete contrast to his colorful and flashy nature.

"Now, you might find it is not a standard design..." he began to explain, laughing as he tried to keep the rest of his face from turning bright red. He felt like he was undergoing a full body inspection by letting her see his rifle. Funnily enough, he probably would've been more calm with the latter.

"I call it, Gribeauval... My native tongue is lost in the noble society of the Northlands. Because it is a serf language. One of many. But that word means a lot to me..." he continues with another trailing laugh.

"Ah, um. Here. Five round cylinder. Lever-action mechanism to deliver the bullet into the loading chamber..." motioning to a parallel lever sticking off the side of the barrel, "All in service for a more rapid firing. I compensate accuracy by increasing caliber size. Of course that means more power delivery would be necessary. So, I took a few liberties in changing the standard crane of the rifle to one that would stabilize varying levels of increased mana output. The modular nature of the weapon allows quick fixes, but sometimes... Oh, but I don't have to tell. I'm sure its obvious to you the problems..."

Ayer then quickly pushed back his coat. Revealed were a few vials of colorful, swirling liquid from a harness fastened around his waist. Holding the many straps and belts together was a strange swirling medallion of sorts. "And these... two are Tranvertatus I have prepared in advance. Three Elixus of Evokation, Abjuration, and Darkvision, respectively..."

"I'm sure you're wondering about this strange piece here. It's my own take on something that exists in alchemy labs everywhere." pointing now to the swirling circular device on his hip, "This swirling belt buckler serves as a impromptu grinder, mixer, and liquid filter. Except instead of magic, it runs on physics. I wanted to make something even normal people can use. Stores up to three kinds of reagents through these holes on the side here." turning it clockwise, causing it to click. One, then, two, then three.

"Each click means one of the three ports are open to allow entry. Completely separate. That is, until I give it a spin." he then presses his hands around the apple-sized disk and spins. The metal makes an almost whirring, dribbling sound as it blurs round, "Hear that sound? It rotates an inner gear that causes the whole unit to circulate very rapidly. With each rotation, the liquid or reagent is slowly fed to the central cavity via rotational pressure forcing it slowly through holes that the segments pass during the spinning. Liquid or solid, the mixture is grounded, diced, and sliced, all at once, resulting in a fine compound. The casing is extremely heat tolerant too. For a bit of thermochemistry when necessary. Has ports for complete enclosure or to release active pressure, in which I can control... Like so." turning the device counterclockwise this time, and closing one of bores on the top, "I can even alter which section is closed or open by turning it more, similarly to the side ports."

After the lengthy demonstration, Ayer smiled at Loftgarden, completely forgetting where he was. But he quickly looked away when his eyes met hers, "Ah... Well, that's that. All in all, handy for when I need to do simple alchemy on the run. Simple stuff, really. Fashionable too. Oh, and finally."

He produced what appeared to be a long metal baton from his waist, "One of these. An ignifer. You never know when you need a bit of extra bang. Don't like putting a strain on my imps. But I put a limiter to make sure they don't... ahm, burn out."
"You darn better." replied Frumpy, who gave a haughty arm-crossing gesture.

Ayer patted the imp on the head, "Other mages don't seem to care, but my imps are my friends. People think demons don't have feelings. But I disagree. They can be just as complex as you and I. I'm glad we have someone as prolific as you to carry those ideals to the magical community."

With a sheepish grin, he added, all the while keeping his yellow eyes on the ground. "I have other such devices, personal projects. But those are not ready. Not in the slightest! But from these here, I hope seeing my radical techniques do not insult your eyes too much... The things I create... Other professors have disapproved of these things more than once... I won't be surprised if you do as well. It's only natural..."

...

 

[Ace Cream]

ZIMA

As Zima decided to walks toward the Western Garden earlier than the other students, she was able to enjoy the scenery at her own pace. Totoro was trying his best to keep up while carrying the briefcase. Suddenly she heard an inscrutable whispering coming from the left side of the road, where a small pathway lead into what seemingly a copse of tall pines. Curious, Zima decided to enter the path and she soon find herself in a small clearing.

The clearing seems to be used as some sort of topiary garden. There's roughly six shrubs shaped into small animals, each of them were placed inside square stone vases.

"Look, master. A monkey!" Totoro seemed overjoyed when he found one of the shrub was shaped like a monkey. He even tried to mimic the shrub's pose by standing upright and stared into the distance, menacingly.

"It's an ape." Zima stated her thought. True to her words, the shrub didn't habe any tail. So it was supposed to be an ape, not a monkey.

Zima's attention then drawn towards an apple tree placed on the corner of the clearing. The red delectable fruits litter the ground and Totoro didn't waste any time to start gobbling them down as soon as he spot it. Meanwhile Zima noticed an etching carved into the bark of the tree

"Memories weigh heavier than blood."​

~Enonymous​

She was going to touch and examine the etching further, but a polite voice suddenly interrupted her.

"Excuse me miss, are you lost? The meeting place is this way." Turning, Zima behold one of the Daols in hulking armor. It was holding a silverite halberd in a non-threatening manner. Still, Zima had a feeling that this Daol didn't just coincidentally wander here. She squinted her eyes to eyed the daol, but ultimately decided to follow the daol as it lead her back to the garden.

The daol lead her to another clearing, this time was bigger, with a fountain at the center, and the two mentors near it. Zima didn't recogjize the old woman, but she did know the younger one that was fiddling with some gadgets. Regalia Loftgarden! Totoro would witness a rare moment where Zima just stood there unmoving. The monkey even tried to draw his master's attention by jumping in front of her face but the only thing he got was a whack on the butt.

It didn't take long before the rest of the students came in and Zima was back to her usual composure. Totoro was hanging with Ayer again which she just let it be. Mistress conjurer started the briefing and she led them to another part of the garden where an unknown demon was sealed and tried hard to escaped the magical prison. Apparently their next test would be done in group, and they would need to take down the demon inside. Zima gave Totoro a signal and the monkey rushed towards her while quickly opened the briefcase. Inside was her imprifle and its additional equipments, but before she took the imprifle, she pulled a pair of curved silver-colored metal and strap it on her boots. Totoro shivered as he looked at the silverite outsoles, simple expensive tools that for some reason Zima insisted to have. The monkey had experienced it firsthand how painful that thing can be.

"Gun." Zima ordered and Totoro scrambled to place the imprifle gently on her hands. Zima once again checks its condition.

"Spike." Another order. This time Totoro veeeery carefully handed her a silverite dagger. Zima attached the dagger at the tip of her imprifle.

"Canister."

"Cartridge."

"Energy drink."

Zima's order kept coming and Totoro patiently handed her the items. They're somewhat like a surgeon and the assistant with the imprifle as the patient. When Zima finished assembling her imprifle, Mistress enchantra unexpectedly asked to see her weapon. Zima wasn't prepared to be addressed so suddenly by the esteeemed enchanter so she found herself clumsily handed the mentor her imprifle.

"I developed it for years." Was the only words she could manage without falling into stutter.

Spoiler: Gun talk

Zima's imprifle was a 25 inch double-barelled white gun with a rather bulky build. The impcanister was placed in front of the trigger, parallel to the barrel. She found that this position was easier and quicker to reload compared to other position. A small lever was added at the stock to help ejecting and installing new impcanister. Overall her imprifle seems to be tuned for powerful spreading shot instead of precision shot.

As the master enchanter examined her gun. Zima was twitching and blushing for no apparent reason. She was gathering courage to ask something from the mistress enchantra.

"Ms Regalia, can I..." Her voice trailed off as she was faltering, but she fastened her resolve and finished her sentence. "Can I ask you to sign my imprifle? I would be very honored." She pointed at the wooden handle of the gun.

Now she was ready and eager. Looking at Ayer she was definitely not the only one who's excited to prove themself.

"I'm a null so I'm going on the front." Zima said shortly as she held her imprifle firm. While null have some degree of immunity against magic, the level of the demon was unknown so it would be better if she didn't need to take any attack head on. However she felt some responsibility to be the shield if the needs come arise, that was what her father told her about the responsibility of being a nullreiwmer.

"Too bad you don't bring your saber, master." Totoro chimed in. Zima ignored it. It's true that for a group effort like this her silverite saber might be better since she wouldn't risk shooting an allied demon but of course she wouldn't go back to her room at this point.

Lekiel @all because I'm lazy

 

[revior]

Finn Arland
​

At long last, the first of the trials wasabout to begin. There, within a garden where time seemed to be visibly layered over one another, where relics of the past were placed side by side with installations of the present, the Chosens would be tested. How many tests have taken place amidst these ruins? How many have fought and have their mettle tested where they all stood? Just by standing still and taking a cursory view, Finn could intuitively feel a sense of history in this place. However, the past is in the past, and at the moment, Finn was more concerned with the present as well as the future.

"Combat, is it? I was afraid this might happen," he muttered to no one in particular.

"It is rather fortunate and you've come prepared, is it not, Master Finn?"

"I did I what I could, but the question is, will that be enough?"

"Yes, it's not as if the purpose of this very test is to measure that. Of course, I am but a familiar, what do I know."

"Fair point, Xi, fair point. Now then..."

From his wooden case, Finn carefully extracted his imprifle, ready and assembled. It was a strange thing, but there was a feeling of surrealism in knowing that he would soon have to fire it at an actual target. When he first constructed it, it was not Finn intention to construct a weapon. It was more of a project, a task required for the Enchantech course. For the sole purpose of passing the course, he constructed the rifle, improved it, and further refined whatever he could. As a result, the rifle was basic, as basic as any imprifle one could find. It'll shoot, it'll shoot straight, and it'll hurt plenty when the shot lands and that's pretty much it. Still, this was one of his first complex construction and he was quite attached to it and he had been tweaking it ever since. Bit by bit, he would add just a bit more power and efficiency in each shot, just a bit more durability to its frame, with each tweak. In a sense, the rifle had grown with him, it's capabilities a measurement of his raw skills. As such, it was difficult to have it judged by the Mistress Enchantra, the famous Regalia Loftgarden herself.

Finn couldn't help but feel rather nervous to have his work placed under the scrutiny of the slightly older Enchanter. Perhaps it was their closeness in age, being mere three years younger than her. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't self-conscious of both the age gap and the gap of their abilities. And maybe, just maybe, from the moment he had first heard of her, Finn saw a bit a rival in the young Enchanter they called a prodigy. Of course, even if that were true, he'd never admit it. It was far too embarrassing. He'd much rather pretend to have a one-sided crush than to admit to his insignificant one-sided rivalry.

"So, will you be letting her see it or not, Master Finn?"

"I... I will, alright, I just need a moment to compose myself."

"Make it quick, at least before the trial begins."

In time, after waiting for the students ahead of him to be done, Finn made it before Loftgarden and presented his rifle.

"Please take a look at mine as well," he said politely, though not without some stiffness. "And while I'm here, I would also like to give the Imprifle made by the Mistress Enchantra herself a try. I believe it would be a good learning experience for me."

But this won't just be any ol' learning experience, for you see, Finn intended to examine Loftgarden's creation while she examines his. That right, he planned to, discreetly, go head to head with the Mistress Enchantra as an Enchanter. Here and now, he'll find out which of them is the better Enchanter. Most probably, it would be Loftgarden, Finn did not doubt that for even a single second, but you never know, even though Loftgarden would obviously be his better.

In spite of his flaming, in-the-moment, passion, however, Finn would quickly feel a different sensation upon receiving the provided imprifle. In his hands, here lies the creation of the one they called a prodigy, crafted by techniques that might have been beyond him. At the moment, he wanted to take it all apart and examine every nook and cranny from every angle possible. Unfortunately, lacking a workstation, Finn could only settle for what little he could glean from it on the field.

On a side note, while Finn's imprifle was rather basic in form and function, there was one thing different from the standard design. It was the inclusion of a limiter on the impcannister, though, If one were to ask whether Finn sympathizes with the Demon or not, the answer would be a solid 'no'. However, despite that, he thought that he would at least extend this slight courtesy and grace to the ones he would use and discard. Perhaps it was but a half-measure, perhaps it was nothing less than hypocrisy, but he felt that if he didn't do so, if he were to go over this line, he might just lose an important piece of himself, one that he may never get back.

Lekiel

 

[RI.a]

ARYA ;;​

Arya breathed a sigh of relief, a hand patting her chest to calm herself. It was nothing short of a miracle that they all didn't receive some sort of disciplinary punishment. The mustard covered red-head soon came to introduce himself. A look of concern flashed across her features as she had caught sight of what looked like injuries beneath his bandages. But as Ayer took a very deep bow before her, she figured it should not be in her place to call attention to it since he seemed to be moving fine and it might be a sensitive topic for the northlander; after all it was covered in bandages.

She returned his greeting with a slight bow of her head, "It's a pleasure, Mr. Lecomte." She wasn't sure how to respond to his... friendly fawning (?) and his generous offer of making both her and Finn some scarves. It was hard to believe there was such a person that can be in such a joyous mood even after being singled out by Principal Deepwater. Or perhaps this was a facade he wanted to keep in front of peers. Before she could accept his offer, Ayer had already left for the washroom, no doubt to clean himself before the first trial.

A small tap on her shoulder made her turn towards Enn and she met her outstretched hand with her own. "It's a pleasure Ms Velahl. I'm Arya Kai Holmes. I wish we could have met under better circumstances but I must praise you for your bravery. It's very admirable." Arya added sincerely, giving Enn a warm smile.

The next introduction was from Adrius and Kieran, both of whom she acknowledged and formally greeted. Arya chuckled, "No apologies needed Mr Holloway."

"Ahem!" Finneas pushed up against Arya's leg gently, looking at his master with dilated eyes. Giggling, Arya picked him up.

"Sorry, someone feels a little left out. This is Finneas."



Arya thoroughly enjoyed her walk to the Western Gardens and made a mental note to visit again to view the sunset. Gleefully anticipating that Skyreach Mount would disperse the golden rays in ways she could never imagine. Maybe she could borrow a Gwyndil to get a birds-eye view. Maybe Euphemia--

"Focus on your tasks, Arya."

Her father's reprimand broke her carefree thoughts, and she nearly responded out loud out of habit. Arya took a deep breath and smiled; thinking that he was right, she should be focussing. There was no time to get caught up in meaningless activities. If she did, she wouldn't be in Highover much less attending her first trial. Her newly acquainted tall red-head somehow fell into step with her- him and what seemed to be all equipment, she looked at him quizically and wondered if all his strength were in his legs. Baffled by the odd request of neck measuring, she nodded shyly, tilting her head upwards and lifting her hair when it got in the way. She wasn't familiar with sewing and making clothes so she didn't question the passionate dressmaker.

Soon, they were met by a pair of tutors. Arya returned the smile to Mistress Conjuror. She could feel the intensity of her gaze as the hairs on the back of Arya's neck stood. Was she told of the breakfast event? Clenching her teeth she made sure to pay extra attention to both Mistresses, only relaxing her jaw when dismissed to prepare. Out of all the possibilities, the group Arya was in comprised of familiar faces.

"You two have proven to be the actionable sort. Such confidence doesn't arrive from nowhere. Let me see what you're truly capable of in a fight!"

A look of confidence spread across the young lady's face, "I am familiar with both Evocation and Abjuration."

"I'm a null so I'm going on the front."

Arya nodded at the tall stranger. "I don't believe we've met yet. I am Arya Holmes. I can stay in the frontlines, I'll provide support if needed and strike at an opening." After a pause, she asked the group, "Should we aim to banish, destroy or trap the demon? There would be different preparations needed for all three options and it would be better to properly prepare ourselves correctly. We would need to anticipate and work out any possible contingencies as well."

Euclid Leaf Lekiel Wilder28 revior Ace Cream Mqueserasera Ignem

 

[Ignem]

IGNEM ASPHALT
​

After sitting at the breakfast hall for a while, Ignem got up since it was time for the first trial. The place for the first trial for the batch he was in was at the Western Gardens.

'So Western Gardens were forbidden due to being a spot for the trial..." He thought. As they were walking in the beautiful garden, Ignem looked around to see who was in his batch. He first saw Enn and Starlight, his classmates. Then he saw some other dudes who backed Enn during the breakfast incident.

"Are you nervous for the trial?" A voice asked. Ignem snapped out of his thoughts and looked down on his left side to see Misty.

"You can say that..." Ignem said. "But you are pretty skilled I think you would be able to pull it off..." Misty replied.

"I know but still it's pretty wild for me to actually be do the thing I have dreamt off..." Ignem replied. Misty nodded and didn't say anything else. Soon they reached the place of the trial.

"Good Morning you are all finally here, " Mistress Conjurer said before focusing at each student. Ignem saw her focusing on him before looking at the rest of the student.

"See? Even she thinks you can pull through, " Misty whispered jumping on Ignem's shoulder. Ignem nodded before focusing back at what Mistress Conjurer was saying. After a bit of introducing Mistress Enchantra continued to tell them about the trial.

"Within that cage, is your first trial. One which you'll face as a group. I am sure by now, you're all familiar with the notion of unbound demons. Violent spirits, sometimes with no specific class that have somehow breached the Precepts from the Other Side and come into our world. This afternoon, you'll use whatever means you have at your disposal to banish, trap, or defeat this demon. It's as straight forward as that... " She said. Ignem's eyes focused on the cage, about 10 feet high with snarling voices coming from it.

'Our first trial is to defeat a frickin' demon?!' Ignem thought before focusing back at the instructions being given.

"For the rest of you, you may ask me any relevant questions if you wish. Otherwise, you may proceed to stand by the pillars if you're ready... But don't get too close to the cage, not yet at least!" Miss Delacour said.

After listening the instructions Ignem was about to go stand by the pillars when he heard someone say, "Should we aim to banish, destroy or trap the demon? There would be different preparations needed for all three options and it would be better to properly prepare ourselves correctly. We would need to anticipate and work out any possible contingencies as well."

While he was being reluctant to reply at first, he thought that it was just to prepare for the trialll.

"We don't even know what kind of demon it is, and also all three of the options need the demon to be weakened, "Ignem replied.


@Rl.a Euclid Leaf Lekiel Wilder28 revior Ace Cream Mqueserasera

 

[Wilder28]

Adrius Devereux

References: Lekiel Euclid Leaf RI.a Mqueserasera Ace Cream Ignem revior animegirl20 NUSKI

"Oh... don't apologize on behalf of others who think th-they can just do as they please!"

For a moment, Adrius and Kieran both seemed a little taken aback by the girl's sudden intensity, even sharing a brief look of surprise. Clearly, she wasn't anywhere near as meek as she may have appeared to be, at least not deep within. Of course, neither of them chose to otherwise acknowledge the outburst, instead just nodding in agreement to what she said next. Because as far as they'd seen, it was quite true; they'd encountered such 'ill-mannered' people from every continent and every walk of life, both within and without the confines of the Ivory Tower. Constance had been one of the worst, but he was far from the only noble who behaved the way he did.

"Oh don't thank me! I think we all knew when we should stand up for what's right, and take action together to face the problem," she had told them, giving them a friendly smile in response to their thanks. The Ivory's responded in kind, giving smiles of their own. "Of course. I just so happen to be low-born, and Kieran here is... pretty close to it," he explained casually. "So the whole 'Mandate' ordeal struck a cord, you could say." He thought for a second, then shrugged and added, "That, and Constance is just a prick. It's always fun to mess with people like that. Take them down a peg, you know?" Kieran rolled his eyes at this, but didn't bother to comment.

Upon hearing of Delia's culinary gift to them, Adrius raised his brows slightly and glanced up at his friend. "I do like key lime pie," he murmured in a similarly low tone. Kieran let out a light chuckle and nodded to Enn. "We'll make sure to stop by." Then, as she departed, the brunette gave a wry half-smile as Adrius gave her a friendly wave. "That's my plan. I've got to see to it that this impetuous fool doesn't get himself killed." He patted the Evoker's shoulder as he said this, earning him a look of amusement. Notably, he didn't disagree with this statement.

Following that interaction, and after Adrius had turned his attention to Finn, Kieran met Arya's response with a small laugh. He still seemed a tad bashful, but at least a little less so now. "Greetings to you too, Finneas," he greeted amicably. "Quite an elegant form you've taken, I must say." He then gestured up to the raven on his shoulder, who now regarded both Arya and her familiar with the same grim, unblinking stare he turned on everyone. "This is my familiar, Moros. Likely the least talkative Foliot you'll ever meet, but no less companionable."

Not long after this introduction, after perhaps a few more moments of conversation, Adrius returned and nudged Kieran in the side. "Pardon me for interrupting, but I thought I'd let you know that I'm going to go finish up my plate. If you need me, I'll be with Zelos at the table we picked out." Kieran smiled slightly, but shook his head. "As much as I would love to join you, I think I've had enough of breakfast for one morning. I just plan on going and spending a while in the Archives before some other wild ordeal breaks out."

Adrius snickered at that, but just gave the man a light pat on the arm before heading off. "Alright, fair enough. See you after the trial, then."

"And you." Then, turning back to Arya, the taller brunette proceeded to bid her farewell. "It was a pleasure speaking to you, Ms. Holmes. I hope to do so again in the future," he told her with a polite smile. "In the meantime, I look forward to following your progress in these trials." With that said, he turned and departed, the raven on his shoulder now turning his gaze elsewhere. "Until next time!" He called over his shoulder.

​

Adrius treated the walk to their first trial as if it were a leisurely stroll through the woods around the Tower.

Despite the gravity of the situation he was in, he hardly looked to be particularly anxious about it. If anything, he actually seemed rather more focused on enjoying the scenery, what with the way his eyes wandered about the environment. Though he and Kieran had taken a self-imposed tour of the campus the day before, the fact that this particular sector had been closed off at the time meant that they hadn't been able to check it out as well. So naturally, everything he saw here now was completely new to him. And since it probably wasn't likely that he would get a chance to come back anytime soon, he decided to take this opportunity to really admire its splendor.

What a magnificent sight it was, too, as was ever to be expected by such a place as Highover. After passing by a pair of armed and armored Daols that exceeded even Zelos in terms of bulk, he found that the West Garden was no less scenic than the rest of the school grounds. From the finely-carved statues and archways to the lush flora and the distant peak of Skyreach Mount (which probably did exceed the Tower in height), his surroundings were nothing short of picturesque in the most inspiring way. And that wasn't even going into the various passageways that extended from the one they were following, all of which he was very much tempted to just go down and explore. He couldn't now, for obvious reasons, but hopefully, he would be able to in the near future. Who knew what he would find?

That thought aside, he also found that every bit as interesting as his environment was his company.

Most of the chosen had been split up into a few groups, and fortunately, Tyce wasn't in his. Nor were Hemera or Valton, for that matter. However, he was very much lucky enough to wind up with the ever-eccentric Ayer Lecomte, who he noticed had initially chosen to follow him without question. Adrius wasn't having that, though; instead, he slowed down so he could walk alongside the Northlander, allowing for better conversation. Not that he really said much - aside from asking the occasional question like "What's in the bag?" or "What's that on your arm?" and throwing in bits and pieces of small talk, he didn't really say all that much.

And he certainly could've, what with the way his new friend was most flamboyantly dressed and the fact that he had a trio of bickering imps as his familiar. But truth be told, he could hardly judge him for the former (considering that he'd wear his cloak even in the sweltering heat of the Hinokian Desert), and even found it to be stylish in its own unique way. Much the same was true in the latter case too, considering that he himself had diverged from the norm by picking out an Utukku of all things. On this note, he'd even playfully brought up the notion of the two of them being "Nonconformists" for this very reason.

As far as everyone else went, Adrius was quick to notice that they were mostly the same people he'd met just earlier, which included Arya, Finn, Starlight, Enn, Klaus Willowhain, the brunette from before (Ignem, he later found out), and of course, the esteemable Goldilocks herself. He'd greeted each and every one of them with sprightly hello's and 'good to see you again's, and in the case of Klaus, Ignem, and Euphemia, these were accompanied by warm introductions that were a little too brief worthy of being recorded here.

And yes, he did call Euphemia Goldilocks to her face. Even as he was genuinely and smoothly commending her for her beautiful resolution of the incident with Constance.

Beyond that, however, he didn't really engage much with them, preferring instead to just tune into their interactions as he took in the scenery. It wasn't until half a mile later that there came any significant change in his surroundings, though, as he and his fellow Chosen passed through one final arch and set foot into a lovely clearing on the other side. The first thing he noticed was the elaborate fountain in the center, and shortly after, he caught sight of the rows of spectates that were sitting off to the side. Among them, he could see Kieran, who was now focused on jotting a few things down in some darkly-colored journal. As Adrius and co. came into the scene, though, he looked up, and upon meeting his gaze, he gave out a small wave that the Evoker was quick to return. He did the same for Enn and Arya as well, if either of them cared to spare a look in his direction.

What really caught his attention, though, was the people he spotted in front of them, who had apparently already been present. There were three in all, and among them was Zima, who he remembered gone off before everyone else had. He never saw her leave, but she hadn't been at the table when he returned either.

Before her were two older women, both of whom he was quick to recognize as a couple of the illustrious instructors of Highover. Though he had never cared to really take a look into Highover's staff, as Kieran may have, he was nonetheless familiar enough with the main five, which included Principal Deepwater. Of them, he recognized the two before him Mistress Delacour, distinguishable by her sheer height and her unusual silver hair, and Regalia Loftgarden, who he recalled to be so lovable that even the demons like her. Yes, he knew her to be a Null Enchantech prodigy as well, but that was always the part about her that stood out to him the most.

Now, standing in front of her as he and the rest of the Chosen gathered around the two, he could see why. Whereas Madame Delacour stood tall - equal to Ayer in stature - and regarded them all with a rather scrutinizing look as she spoke, Ms. Loftgarden had the cheeriest air about her. So much so, that any nervousness he may have felt about the situation was almost certainly dispelled in her presence.

The same didn't seem to be true for everyone, however. While he listened intently to Delacour's introductory speech, he noticed that the Enchanters among them - mainly Ayer, really - seemed quite starstruck upon seeing the young prodigy, if the redhead's outburst was any indication. It brought a slight smile to his face.

He didn't linger on that observation for long, though, as he soon turned his attention right back to the Mistress Conjuror as she went on to speak of the Reckoning. The mention of a potential loss of life did elicit a slight shift in his expression, but it was nothing too drastic. He'd already expected such a risk, especially after hearing it from his brother.

Then, Madame Delacour began to walk, and Adrius followed along with the others as she led them over to what looked to be a separate part of the garden beyond the fountain, one that was markedly less empty than the part they'd just come from. There was an abundance of ponds and pillars dotting the area - but he only regarded them for the briefest moment before turning his focus onto the main attraction. In the very center was a large case, surrounded by the telltale shimmers of mystical wards. Contained within, he could see only a swirling, voluminous cloud of ashen smoke, the only hint of whatever entity that was contained within. As they drew nearer, the bars of the cage were suddenly struck, bringing about a burst of sparks that rained down from the wards that enclosed it. Seconds later, Adrius caught wind of a feral snarling, a surefire indicator that whatever it was in there was not friendly.

And sure enough, there soon came the revelation that the prisoner of that cage was an unbound demon, one that was apparently meant to be taken on as their first trial. Being honest, he hadn't quite known what to expect out of this, but he was glad that it wasn't something like drawing an uber-complex Conjuration pentagram. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was likely to be fast-paced and exciting, just as he liked it. Not to mention the fact that he got to cooperate with the others, too.

The topic then shifted for a moment as he saw Regalia walking amongst them, approaching Zima and inquiring to inspect her weapon. Delacour then made it clear that, apparently, anyone was free to approach her to gain a weapon, or to have their own examined. Being that he wasn't an Enchanter himself, Adrius had no need for either; his weapons were his spells, and his tools were his hands and his wit. All of the brawny stuff was typically relegated to his familiar while he literally worked his magic.

"Looks like our promise before has fulfilled itself already," he heard Ayer pipe up, drawing his attention. "It's almost like a duel, isn't it? Not even much different. Constance is a demon in his own right. I'll keep your back, partner."

In response to this, Adrius gave a most audacious grin. "And I've got yours, mate." Ayer had then gone on to address Arya and Finn as well, establishing the beginnings of a strategy.

"As for everyone else, I'm prepared to play the role of a rook. I'll watch the flanks and provide support."

To this, a few others had responded before he could.

"I'm a Null, so I'm going on the front," Zima announced first in her Northland brogue, standing stoically with her weapon in hand. Adrius took notice of her familiar mentioning a saber shortly after, and that more than anything solidified her status as a badass in his mind. Few Magicians used blades nowadays, his brother included, but he always admired those who did.

"I can stay in the frontlines, I'll provide support if needed and strike at an opening," Arya added shortly afterward. Then, after a pause, she went on to ask, "Should we aim to banish, destroy or trap the demon? There would be different preparations needed for all three options and it would be better to properly prepare ourselves correctly. We would need to anticipate and work out any possible contingencies as well."

"We don't even know what kind of demon it is," he heard Ignem rightfully point out in response. "And also, all three of the options need the demon to be weakened."

This was where Adrius offered his input.

"Right, what he said," he agreed eloquently, gesturing to Ignem. "We've no idea what kind of demon we'll be dealing with or how powerful it's going to be." He eyed the cage warily. "Though I believe it's safe to assume that it's far from weak." Shrugging, he simply concluded, "I believe our best bet is to plan as we go. We'll find out what we're dealing with soon, and when we do, we can test its mettle and work out a way to bring it down. Whichever way is the easiest, of course." Considering that this was more or less his main way of operating in general, he may have been a bit biased. But even so, it just made sense to him. As his brother would often say, they wouldn't always have time to plan in advance. Therefore, it always helped to remain flexible and adapt to any situation. And in his experience, that held true.

"Now, if Ayer is to be the rook of the party, then I suppose I'll be... the Knight." He wasn't really sure if that was the appropriate chess piece, but he seemed happy with this analogy anyway. "I specialize in Evocation, and while I can't always hit hard, I'd like to think I'm fairly hard to hit. If manageable, I'll keep the monster on its toes and give you all the openings you may need to attack it. And if I can't, well..." He patted Zelos' arm proudly. "I've got this block of muscle to work with me."

 

[Mqueserasera]

EUPHEMIA

Interactions: everyone
Mentions: Adrius ( Wilder28 ), Ayer ( Euclid Leaf )​

Like a certain someone, Euphemia regretted her involvement in the petty conflict. She hadn’t kept her temper in check, and was reminded by herself to exercise better restraint in the future as she stood in the Principal’s presence, wasting her mealtime. She had only herself to blame, it’s true, for making an indignant move against the commotion makers, at the root of it all, her impatience stemmed from the underserved expectation for class from those so-called “Chosen”. The remarkable outcome of it all was that her tea had gone stale during the time spent absorbing his lecture. She’d only finished her breakfast, which she did in haste and anticipation of coming disruption. This discretion was not in vain, she wouldn’t have had her hunger filled with one more moment's delay! Yet, can one really say a meal in haste is a good one?

Serious a problem as it was, she didn’t linger on it for long. On the way out, Euphemia spared a glance searching for Hilla, but the girl was nowhere to be found, apparently had learnt her lesson.

After returning to her room to change, Euphemia stepped into the Western Garden. Having cast off the cumbersome dress, she appeared in new attire fitting for actions, for war. Now she presented herself in a black tailcoat with a stock tie around the collar of her white shirt, subtle golden threads drew attention to the fine fabric. A line of shining metal buttons ran down the front of her coat. Tucked under tall field boots, her white breeches matched the pristine white gloves, clean and fresh. As for her hair, she kept in the usual high bun.

All ready and set to go, the demon Algae trailing after, she entered the ground of the second trial. Which was her first. It was forbidden for most students including her. Beyond, she found a pleasant landscape, ancient and dominated by nature wherever weren’t reached by cobbled pathways. After a bit of enjoying the view and grinding her boots against cobbles, she reached the stone fountain where two women awaited. Around them were the obvious signs of preparations for the trial, and then, the metal cage imprisoning their demonic target. But Euphemia was yet to address this main subject. She took in the area and those in it.

For all those years studied in Highover, there were many things about it unknown to her still. For a good reason, Euphemia assumed. A great many things in life exist for reasons other than to be molested by naked, unenlightened eyes. She believed too, at a combination of pride and deduction, that if anyone is to deserve the burden of knowing, herself should rank among them, now or soon enough. Frankly, humbleness is a virtue best wear as a fashion for worldly bodies, not for clouding over one’s inner world. Saying that Euphemia was a proud woman is both an understatement and a misleading remark. She did not care for her current abilities or knowledge, but had a clear expectation of what she should be and could be. An ideal. By which she judged and measured others.

Delacour and Loftgarden – the two before her, they were… alright. In themselves they were good people, in their pursuit they displayed dedication. Good at what they do, but simply just that, a thin line separated them from what lies beyond mere skilful artisans. It is called greatness, a quality forever chased after by the lacking. The quality of one born to conquer, destroy the order or establish a new one. Only a few are born into this destiny, fewer yet actualize the prophecy of their potential. Ask if Euphemia can name one living person that possesses this quality, she would not have an answer. Ask if she was one, she would give a slight smirk. What matter is that having such a stature of greatness in mind, it’s difficult to be truly in awe of someone lesser, where only an applaud would do.

And though she did not reveal the real sentiment outward, through her gaze or behaviours, she hid it as well as she could. Euphemia played her part in the polite society, gave out respects to those in need for it. Respects are cheap things to give, no more costly than a smile here, a fawning word there. The lowborn fight for it, the highborn demand it. But they all need it, and both scorns to give it away. So she bowed and beamed and curtsied pleasantly to those women above her in ranks and talents. The same things she offered Ayer Lecomte: she answered his greeting with greetings, praises with modesty.

If only dealing with the next tactless one was as easy. Adrius Devereux, she had not formed a concrete opinion on him as she had with Lecomte. What little she’d learnt about him, though, brought her no comfort in his presence.

“I envy you, Mr. Devereux. To have such a wealth of idleness to invent so clever a moniker to address me in the place of my proper name,” she spoke with an unusual edge. Before, she promised herself to exercise restraint. This restraint, however, was limited to insults targeted at anything other than her most treasured aspects, namely her family and their well-known traits. “With only half as much time, I too should be able to treat this Reckoning as mere child play, which no doubt to you is what it amounts to.”

A sweep of the eyes through the crowd of youths revealed more familiar faces. All eager to prove. Yet cautions in the face of distant but looming death preyed their plan to glory. They shared those thoughts until it was her turn to speak.

“Mr. Devereux’s idea is sound,” she began, “We know too little of one another to plan our strategy in earnest. Do what you can, when you can. Simply utilize your best magic and tactics.”

“To whom who has yet known,” Euphemia the noble turned her heels to address one-time comrades within earshot, “My name is Euphemia of house Aureli and Fontana. I’m willing to offer my help. Do what you must, outrun death, subdue the target. I, however, can’t be contented with mere survival, and shall fight only to bring complete destruction upon this fiend.”

 

[Lekiel]

-- Ace Cream

Spoiler

The Mistress Enchantra's emerald eyes lit up with keen expectation when Zima presented her very own imprifle. Regalia accepted the equipment careful reverance, as only a true crafter can appreciate the amount of passion poured into a craft and admire it, no matter at what stage of development it was. She listened intently, her green eyes glancing occasionally at the Northlander as she examined the weapon. A genuinely pleased smile curled the corners of her lips and she made sure the flustered girl was aware of her pleasure with the occasional nod of her head and mhm's of approval.

"This is very well made," Professor Loftgarden finally spoke, "I see what you attempted here with the clustershot design. . . mmm, while I don't think it might make too much of a difference yet given your current progress with it, I daresay you're going in the right direction. Keep up the work," the young professor paused for a moment to regard the blonde before a spark of recognition lit up her eyes.
"Utkin? Zima Utkin?" Regalia grinned, "your father is quite something, I hope he's doing well! He spoke highly of you last we met, it's great to know you've taken after him," she added good-naturedly. As a fellow Dragoon of the Arcana Council, Regalia had met the esteemed Ivan Utkin on a fair few occasions, especially when she returned to her hometown of Galemarch a city-state not far from Ishngard, capital of the Northlands. She'd been acquainted with Lord Utkin, though their dealings had been brief, the man had never failed to make his care for his daughter go unapparent.

"Ms Regalia, can I..." Zima suddenly spoke up, a tinger of nervousness in her timbre. "Can I ask you to sign my imprifle? I would be very honoured." She pointed at the wooden handle of the gun.

"Oh. . ." Professor Loftgarden blinked, somewhat taken aback. As if she only just realized how taken the young woman was with her. "Why... yes, yes of course!" Reaching into one of the many pouches of her dress, she retrieved a silver fountain pen. She appeared to hesitate a little but nevertheless went right ahead with signing her name on the handle. "There I hope the ink stays," a tinge of pink coloured the Mistress Enchantra's cheeks as she eyed her signature critically somehow afraid that the addition of her own handiwork would scar the exquisite masterpiece of someone else's. While it may not have been the first time an aspiring enchanter had displayed their admiration for her, the young professor was nevertheless still unaccustomed with her celebrity 'status'.

"Well then," Regalia smiled, returning to her usual cheery self, "let me hold on to this for some final checks, I'll return it once I've gone through the others."

-- Euclid Leaf

Spoiler

"Ayer isn't it?" Professor Loftgarden wasn't short by any means, regardless she was about a head shorter in comparison to the lanky Lecomte.

The tall young man turned at her call but startled so abruptly Loftgarden herself was taken aback, a slim hand paused mid-air as she was about to tap on his shoulder.

"Aha... As much of an honor it will be use on of your fine instruments Lady Loftgarden, truly... I think it's more fitting that such a test is examined through my own skill. Thus, failure is my own sole responsibility. As a Chosen, I would not want to have the weight of the world on my shoulders if I am not qualified to carry it...."

"Oh no no, rest assured if your esteemed professors have deemed you worthy of even being here, then that is enough for me to know that you are qualified. There are many who do not possess a rifle or wish to use one of the provided ones for legitimate reasons," a modest smile painted Regalia's lips as she reassured the young noble. "These are fairly standard issue, and would not provide an unfair advantage if I do say so myself."
"But since you have your very own, I'd like to take a look at it."

Regalia watched on with clear interest as Ayer began to unpack and assemble his belongings, she even went so far as to even kneel on the grass beside his arrayed equipment. While a perpetual warm smile played on her lips, her eyes were intense in their discernment. emeralds eyes scrutinizing each and every item.

Even when he fumbled with a casing and scattered bits of odds and ends into the grass, her facade did not change. Watching patiently, she waited as he waddled around like a clumsy gauche; though her eyes widened slightly with interest at his peculiar gauntlet with affixed implight.

When he was almost done, he approached with a somewhat embarrassed laugh, "Ah, sorry for that... I'm not usually this... Well, I'm not sure what." he lied, "Ah, maybe my hands still have mustard residue on them? Messy breakfast. Yes, that must be the case!"

"That's alright, take it easy. It's okay to be nervous, this is part of your Reckoning after all." Regalia reassured him placing a light touch on his hand, blissfully unaware that she had probably misread the cause of his jittery nerves. She sat back and allowed him to talk her through his belongings, though she did pause to ask what the peculiar name of his rifle meant. Coming from the Northlands herself, she was well aware of his heritage and his ties to Lord Lecomte, so the fact that he had revealed himself as not of the highborn did not faze her; not that she was of the supercilious nature herself. His final statement, however, did elicit a silvery giggle from the young professor.

"Insult my eyes?? Oh my. . . please, Ayer. . . Ayer, isn't it? Hardly!" Regalia chuckled as if she found the idea of scoffing at his eccentric yet inspiring creations preposterous. "You have quite an array of, shall I say, marvellous ideas put to practical use here!"
"Be proud of what you have made Ayer," she offered him a poignant smile, eyes trying to look into his own as if she could tell what sort of experiences he had endured to make him so self-deprecating, "you must be proud of yourself and what you have made, Ayer, only then will the works of your hands speak highly of you." She gave his arm an encouraging squeeze before
taking his items for her own appraisal. After a few moments of consideration, she was was done, a clear look of satisfaction lightening her facade.

"Your equipment certainly proves to be more than capable, Ayer," Professor Loftgarden began. She nodded at the swirling device at his hip, "and you certainly must drop by whenever you're free so I could have a closer look at that." Then her eyes roved over his three squabbling imps, a distant look clouded her emerald eyes for a moment but the moment passed just as quickly as it came.
"I see you've made quite the company," Regalia grinned widely as she regarded the imps, "which is why I think I'd better help you sort something out but first. . ." she paused midsentence, crawling over, she retrieved his Elixus vial of darkvision and pocketed it. "I am not sure if this will work as you intended it, so I will be keeping it until I am sure, and you are ready."
"As for your friends here," the young professor moved again, this time reaching to grasp the activated ignifer, "I think it is in our best interests for me to take this." Regalia juggled the ignifer in her hands, before appraising its workings closely. "In practice, you may have ample time to retrieve your imps once they're bound to a canister, but I fear, this will not be the case in a practical sense. Especially not with an ignifer. I see you've added a limiter. . ." a smile of approval curled Regalia's lips, but it was quickly replaced by a more serious expression, "Unfortunately, this only means that the little one is returned to the Other Side once it is discharged. Once this happens there is no way you can guarantee to call back the same little one." She reached over to pat Ponkiepie on his head, "they don't have binding truenames."
"But fret not!" Regalia added brightly, "I'll let you have a few of my own impcanisters." She sat back and dusted dried grass off her dress as she got to her feet. "As for this," Loftgarden picked up Ayer's imprifle, "I'll return it after some final tests."

"Be right back Mister Lecomte."

-- revior

Spoiler

"Oh, of course!" The Mistress Enchantra acquiesced to the grey-haired Hinokian, beckoning him over to the shelf where the rifles were arranged neatly. "Here, take your pick."

Of them all, three stood out to Finn.

--Finn has earned 'Loftgarden's Favour' for his curiosity. Add it to your Status Effects.
Three rifles stand out to Finn Arland. All are similar in power, though their designs and make are clearly different. Each had a name, engraved on a rectangular metal piece set in its stock. The first was Squall. An elegant imprifle model, with a single ivory barrel and bronze embellishments it was clearly the work of a master craftsman. The second was Demonsbane. A solid powerful make, it had a cornflower blue body similar in colour to the Enchantra's dress and was trimmed in gold. Professor Loftgarden drummed her fingers lightly over the weapon before she moved to the final one. Silversling. Comparatively, the third Imprifle appeared much more ordinary. Spartan in design even. Made completely out of polished but unpainted metal, except for a tarnished gold chain that joined the barrel to the trigger.

Regalia handled Finn's imprifle with practised ease. Her face austere in all seriousness,it was a different side of the usually lightly smiling Mistress of Enchantra. Finn's rifle itself was a rather basic and functional tool, elegant in its simplicity with little to no embellishments. But as the young professor handled it, putting it through its paces and inspecting its inner workings, it almost seemed to have been built for her hands by her hands alone.

"Well made, Finn Arland." She finally announced, coming up close to where he stood, the austerity all but gone from her face as she smiled warmly in approval. She took another glance at his rifle in her hands, an odd look flickering over her eyes before the moment passed.

"I'll. . . take this for a little final test, then you can have it back."

Euclid Leaf Ace Cream revior
"Now for some final checks.' Professor Loftgarden abruptly declared, a glint of youthful passion showing through in her otherwise prim demeanour. She walked a little way, holding each of the student's rifles and placing them on an empty rack. Reaching towards her hair, she touched one her hairpins.

"Shubit." Loftgarden called somewhat excitedly. Almost at once, there was a flash and a soft pop. Standing off to the side and already in the midst of offering a bow, was a strawberry-haired little girl barely four feet tall.

"You called, oh glorious Mistress, celebrated idol of the Great Other Side, Bearer of the Truest of True Names, Queen of the Silver Legion, Heir of the Dawning Rose, Magnificent Summoner of Strawberry Tarts!" Recovering from her deep bow, the child revealed heavily freckled cheeks and large electric blue eyes. Eyes that immediately caught sight of the array of weapons in Regalia's grip.

"A minor Windwall o'Great Mistress?" Shubit requested politely, though she could barely contain the eager look on her face as if she'd seen this exact scene many times before.

"Yes please, Shubit. But off to the side... I still remember that time you tried to trick me into firing at Deepwater's behind!"

"My deepest condolences to Mister Deepwater Behind, I swear the sun was in my eye that time!" Shubit answered cheekily, though the Djinn did summon a billowing gust of wind towards the open space. Regalia could only shake her head at her djinn's antics.

Loftgarden gave the rifles another once over before she hefted it and pointed it at the Windwall. She did not immediately fire. "The whole clip, Shubit?"

The Djinn cocked her head to the side, "I say... Fifty per cent, you always underestimate how much extra punch you add to your shots Marvelous Mistress, Wielder of the Greatest Imprifles, all will bow before your awesome--"

"Flattery won't earn you more strawberry pies Shubit." Regalia chuckled.

"Oh... but my prediction will!"

"We'll see..." With that, the Mistress Enchantra's eyes flared green as tracings of similar emerald hues streaked their way across her arm, seen where her flesh was not covered by her dress sleeve or glove. Rapid bolts of silver fired towards the Windwall, and with each one, the rushing sound of wind grew louder until finally, the wall fizzled out as its rune bindings were broken. An extra silver bolt sped off into the distance, no longer hindered by the magical barrier. Retracting her arm as the light faded from her eyes, she detached the impcanister and held it in her palm for appraisal. This was repeated with the other two rifles with somewhat similar effects A flash of green later, and the Mistress Enchantra declared.

"Empyrea, fifty per cent! And about fifty-five for the limited ones. Fine... you win this round." Loftgarden announced, to the delighted squeal of Shubit.

"Anyway..." Loftgarden turned back to her students. "This completes my assessment. Well done, Lecomte, Utkin, Arland. Your equipment are more than adequate for the trials. Do make sure you have, each, four impcanisters." Loftgarden finished, walking over to hand each weapon back to their respective owners. Turning away, the young professor's gaze searched through the other chosen until the lock onto one of the students.

--Ayer Lecomte and Zima Utkin has earned Loftgarden's Favour. To all who have already one favour, remember you can only have one Favour active at any one time.

⋨⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋩​

"It's not that difficult isn't it? I mean. . . it can't be that horrible. . . but people have died! Oh, why did I ever. . . I don't even understand. . ." Bits and pieces of a voiced internal monologue rambled from Enn's lips as she walked closer to the ruined garden. Her eyes wide and staring at the rattling magical cage. Kala was curled about her shoulders. She recalled her conversation with Lady Loftgarden that only just passed. The professor had offered to bear responsibility for her in abandoning her Reckoning, it would certainly draw Deepwater's disapproval but Regalia was willing to bear it; if only to keep the young woman out of harm's way.

"But why did you do it?"

"Father put you up to this didn't he?"

"No, Enn. . . I'm worried--"

"I-I. . . I don't know why. But I must. And don't ask me why. I just. . ."

". . . please just take care."

Enn shook herself out of her reverie as she finally came to a stop on the grass. Standing in between Adrius and Ignem, while Euphemia introduced herself and promptly announced that she would see the destruction of whatever horrible monstrosity was within the cage. The young Velahl could not imagine how. She was not like the rest. Hardly a model student. But she had no right to complain, she was only here of her own accord. Her hands trembled as she stroked Kala's fur.

"Please, be careful. . ." she spoke after the tall blonde girl, Zima, who had volunteered to take the front. "Demons can be really strong."
"We're. . . we're not going to die, are we?" She added in a whisper so that only those around her could hear.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Ayer Lecomte - Highover Academy, Western Gardens/Secret Fountain GroVe

Mentions;
Wilder28 / RI.a / revior / Lekiel / Ace Cream

In the conversations before his rifle and his equipment were to be inspected, Ayer overheard what Zima said.

"I'm a null so I'm going on the front."

At this, Ayer can be seen visibly flinching. His hand tensed. As if there was a hiccup in the gears that functioned within him. Or like had just been pinched. They were from the same school, same class, and all. So this fact was known to him already. But still...

Even years later, that word...

But he gathered his composure and smiled once more, "Ah, our fine knight! No doubt the daughter of the esteemed dragoon family is eager to prove herself in battle! Do be careful though, the knight is often one of the first pieces to go."

He then turned towards Adrius, as he expressed interest of employing a fluid type of aggression. "But I think you'll be fine, Madam Utkin. We have another knight sporting the field." then he winked at Ayra, "And a fine bishop to support the advance. You can't have a proper attack without both!"

He then used his pointing finger and pinky to make a sort of pushing motion, as if simulating their movements over an imaginary chess board.

It was when the discussion of a 'plan' was brought up that Ayer quickly returned to his daydreams of Loftgarden's splendor. He wasn't a fan of meticulous planning when it came to direct combat. When it comes to demons, it was even more chaotic. To be quite literal. Nothing ever sticks. No variable can be controlled completely. Nor can all outcomes be foreseen. Especially with so little information. This was where Adrius was right, in his opinion. It is better to be flexible and make changes where necessary. Besides, as a support, he only needed to know who was supporting and how. And by this point, he had a solid enough idea of the front line. So he kept quiet for the rest of it.

...

Spoiler: fanboy can't keep it in his pants

Ayer seemed natural speaking the common tongue used across the nations, if not for a tint of an accent. But his voice grew soft when pressed on the meaning behind the foreign word. His words were warm, yet distant when speaking the native tongue. It felt like it was made for him. Like he was made for it. There was a genuine love when he spoke the name of the rifle again. But he also seemed strangely... fearful.

It was enough to take his mind off the alarming fact that she had just touch her hand with his.

"Gribeauval..." he paused, as if to gather his thoughts, "That is the name of the great hero who defended my nation from invasions... But they are long gone now."

His smile after the fact, was hollow.

With that clarification, things proceeded as... normal as possible. There were points were Loftgarden gave bits of physical affirmations to Ayer. They might have seemed like harmless little gestures of encouragement to her, but each time, it felt like his heart was an ignifer exploding. Especially when she squeezed his arm. He nearly died right there. No need for a demon. His heart was pounding, waiting to burst free from his chest. Ayer wanted to shout at the top of his lungs in agonizing bliss, seeing as his life was currently spiraling out of his confines of reality and fantasy. It was a mixture of both happiness, and complete and utter meltdown.

Why is she touching me? Oh sevens... this is more than I can handle... honest. Wait. She approves? Loftgarden approves! I can continue being an enchantech magician! Oh, and living!

His smile faded once the mention of the imps returning to the otherside. He didn't want to say something ridiculous. There was no way he tried giving them truenames or anything. Even if it didn't have all the ceremony, these imps had a name. At least when it came to Ayer. Loftgarden was correct in that it wouldn't guarantee their return, but he had faith. Not that he would ever recklessly throw away his friends. But he kept a firm grin throughout the remainder of the appraisal process as to not ruin what approval he has earned so far.

When the mistress took away his darkvision elixus, he didn't try to stop her. Indeed, she would be right to think it probably wouldn't work 100% as he intended. She was quick to catch him in his sea of words to try and disguise the potion. It was an experimental blend. The probably of success, he found, to be around 76%. Now that was only with tests where the main subject was himself. But wasn't this a perfect opportunity? He needed a wider pool of variety for testing to refine the probably. One can call this being the first field test for the potion. But he wasn't going to argue. the other 24 odd percent might cause uncontrollable farts for the next two hours. And unnatural delusions of grandeur. The bad kind. Wouldn't do well for the demon fight, would it?

When she invited him to come to her workshop, he had to pinch his cheeks to make sure it was real. Really, they couldn't get any redder than they already are.

Loftgarden then finished the inspection by handing a few impcannisters to him, telling Ayer that he can keep them. His knees practically buckled.
"Your very own impcannisters? Like ones created by those gracious hands of yours? I can keep them...?" he said, eyes wide in shock as he looked over the fine craftswork. With a careful grip, he wrapped them in a spare handkerchief and held them against his heart. His newest most prized possessions.

As she continued onwards with her own demonstrations and evaluations he stepped up beside Finn, in particular, because he held one of Loftgarden's rifles. He just wanted a 'peek'. But it was quite obvious to anyone looking that Ayer was in for way more than just a peek. He was practically hugging the man from how close he was leaning. But Ayer didn't seem to mind the contact one bit. Though the same might not be said about whom he was personally invading right now. But he was too focused on seizing all the fine details of the gun into his annals of memory, to be stored and used for later.

revior
"I can't wait to see it in action." he said to Finn, practically whispering into his ear, "If you don't mind, I might have to seek you out after this test to get a proper testament to the feeling of using such a beautiful weapon. For... future testing purposes, yes."

But his attention quickly diverted when Loftgarden began live testing the rifles she had gathered from them. She had summoned an assistant. He hasn't seen a Djinn quite like that before. How adorably small and petite. It reminded him of a more colorful and vibrant Arya. That alone, made him chuckle.

Still, to see Loftgarden in action was almost too much for him. At this point, it didn't matter if his gun just up and malfunctioned. The shame and irreconcilable trauma would be worth it. Ayer felt like he saw all he wanted to see in life. There would be no regrets, anymore. Although, it was like staring into the lofty heavens. Or at an angel. (or this universe equivalent) Mortal eyes can't help but be blinded, unable to comprehend such majesty and divinity. Ayer immediately fell back onto the ground, landing flat and rigid as an overcooked pancake. His mind has been fried by the holy light. He was unable to handle looking any further. The smile dragged across his face looked painful as it pierced his lips against his cheeks. The redhead stared up into the treetops and branches woven above, watching the flashing green lights from weapons being fired.

It was like a flourish of stars in the dark canopy. Truly, beautiful.

"Are you okay? Are you having one of those nerdy overloads again?" said Frumpy, who has clearly had enough of his master.
"Too much... it's all too much." Ayer sighed, slapping his cheeks to make sure he was still alive, "Just let me be... This is a dream come true. Don't wake me up, just yet..."

When his own rifle was returned to him, approved for use, Ayer was barely able to take it into his hands. It felt sacred now. Too pure for him to use any more. But he tried to maintain a modicum of dignity. He took it, though not first under a layer of scarves as to prevent his skin from directly touching. Ayer bowed deeply once... or maybe a handful of times more than was possibly necessary.
"T-thank you so much! It is a great honor for you to handle my rifle -- No, dare I say, it is a prolific miracle that you have!" he said, cheeks as bright as the sun, "Please, I am not worthy. If I had known you were going to use it, I would've prepared fine oils, replaced older gears, done a quick tune-up on the capacitors! Truly, such a crude thing it is not worthy of your beautiful, gracious hands. Oh, I'm so embarrassed..."

Taking Gribeauval, he tucked the large cannon-like rifle over his shoulder and hurried away from Loftgarden as fast as he could. The goofball can be seen running back to the group as if being chased by invisible ghosts, stopping by Adrius and the others. His pained smile can still be seen seizing his face as he huffed and puff, trying to free himself from the curse.

"Phew... What a rush! What did I miss? Do we need more chess analogies?" he then touched his cheeks, "That aside, I think I'm broken..."

...

 

[revior]

Finn Arland
​

Spoiler: GUN

Of Loftgarden's imprifles laid out before him three caught his eyes, each one a different design and each had a name to them. If he had all the time in the world and a work station, then he would no doubt take each of them apart and study each part in full. in the end, the one labeled the 'Silversling' attracted his attention the most. It's simplistic form resonated with him as it seemed to be a built without tricks or gimmicks, a piece that shone purely by polishing the basics to the pinnacle.

As Finn picked up the Sliversling, his hand comfortable rested upon the handle, as if it had been made for his hands from the beginning. Looking down the sights, he shifted the barrel towards a pillar with no one in the vicinity. With ease, his finger slid into the trigger guard and with a squeeze of the trigger, he could feel a subtle yet clear feedback of the mechanisms in motion within as the silverite was released. Lowering the imprifle, Finn confirmed where the silverite had landed before its evaporation, noting that it was exactly where he pointed the sight at.

"Incredible..." That was all he could utter. From the feel of the piece to its actual performance, Finn found absolutely nothing lacking. There was much to be learned from this. He wondered if he would be allowed the keep the Silversling after the trial as it was clear to him that simply wielding it would not unlock all of its mysteries to him. Finn felt as if he could study it for weeks or even months and still find new things about it.

It was while lost in thought, that Ayer leaned into him, whispering into Finn's ear with overflowing ecstasy, asking if he could get testament on the handling of the imprifle.

"Most certainly," said Finn, trying to put up a smile despite feeling rather uncomfortable. "It'd be helpful to have a second opinion on the enchanting techniques used here."

Soon, it was Loftgarden's turn test each of their imprifles. Though, frankly, after seeing the Silversling's capabilities firsthand, Finn couldn't get himself to be interested in the other rifles. They were functional and even well made, yes, but from the way they shoot and the sound they made, Finn found them lacking in comparison. To think that just a moment ago, Finn couldn't think of much he could add to his imprifle, now it felt as though there are too many things he'll have to work on.

Getting his imprifle back, Finn returned it to its case and placed it aside, a distance away from the testing grounds. While he didn't like the idea of having to leave it on the ground unattended, he couldn't risk it encumbering him.

"I'll be in the back and try not to get in the way," he said to the rest as he returned to the group. "Combat isn't exactly my specialty, but I'll do what I can to support everyone here."

Euclid Leaf Wilder28 RI.a Ace Cream Mqueserasera Ignem Lekiel

 

[Ace Cream]

ZIMA

Spoiler: Gun and butt

Retrieving her imprifle back from Ms. Loftgarden, Zima's fingers traced the newly embedded sign on the handle. Beautiful. She planned to sign the other side of the handle with her own name and finally gives the #417 gun a proper name.

"Just a regular signature. Meh." Totoro shrugged ar Zima's admiration for such a simple thing. Hearing the foliot, Zima looks bewildered for just a brief moment and signaled for the monkey to turn around. The monkey gulped nervously because he knew what would happen next. He should've shut his mouth.

Totoro braced himself as Zima kicked his rear with her boots. She didn't kick hard, but the silverite outsoles ignited his asses on fire. The monkey let out a shriek as the he was propelled into the sky and later landed in the fountain. Meanwhile Zima watched the flying Totoro with curiousity, thinking about how burning an entire imp at once might enable a weapon to propels even bigger projectile.

"We are talking chess analogy now? Then I want to be the queen. I did said that I would take the front line, but I don't have any intention to be the disposable pawn. I want to be the raid leader." She reassured Enn and Ayer. From the depth of one of her pocket, Zima produced a pair of clean blue petricigacio crystal. Both containing the abjuration spell 'protect' casted by an expert abjuror, though she was the one who made the crystal so it wouldn't be as good as if casted by said abjuror himself.

"Totoro." Zima called her familiar and the monkey rushed from the fountain back to the side of his master. The monkey looks tired after that kick but he gaves the magician an exaggerated salute as if he still has plenty of stamina to endure another kick. Zima tossed the monkey one of the crystal and kept the other one for herself.

"Remember the training. I assign you as support."

"C-consider it done, master!"

 

[NUSKI]

KLAUS WILLOWHAIN​

Klaus felt particularly lost among his peers. He had no weaponry to show off or any specific questions that he wanted to ask the teacher(s). It wasn't just the first trial either; the entire day he had felt a step behind everyone else. Late to breakfast and basically non-existent in the standoff in the dining hall. While it was a poor excuse, his attention was more focused on the food on his plate rather than a whining child. Though, it did surprise him that Finn got himself involved despite staying away from the group for the majority of the morning. There was a time in his life where he would have stepped up as well, but he had grown complacent (even if he hadn't realized it yet). It did, however, bring a smile to his face when Constance Duchanteau nearly wet his pants at the sight of the principal.

Klaus positioned himself in the back of the group, Dadir clinging to his shoulders as usual. The architecture of the Western Gardens was certainly impressive, but he doubted his familiar would share the sentiment. It wasn't only the stone archway, fountain and pathways; he wasn't used to so much green. While Klaus swiveled around in awe of the armoured Daols, Dadir dug his claws into Klaus' shoulders, seemingly intimidated by their size.

Having nothing to show to Regalia Loftgarden, Klaus leaned up against one of the pillars in silence. Usually, he was extroverted and loud, but something about the Isles rubbed him the wrong way. His eyes slowly moved to the opaque cage, his mind racing with endless scenarios of what could be waiting for them inside. As Finn spoke, Klaus inhaled deeply, wondering if he himself would be prepared if combat was to be tested here. Dadir seemed to notice his anxiousness and habitually, pounced on it. The raccoon shifted to his left shoulder, his fluffy tail wagging across Klaus' face. An odd hissing sound escaped from Dadir's mouth; what Klaus had grown to learn was his laugh.

"Hey, so if you just happen to die here, c-"

"Leave" Klaus interjected, his eyes moving up to glare directly at the raccoon. Before he could finish his sentence, the familiar dissipated in a hazy puff of smoke. While he would most likely need Dadir's help for the trial, he could go a few minutes without his vexatious ramblings.

Spoiler: ooc

apologies for shortness and lack-of-substance

 

[Wilder28]

Adrius Devereux

References: Lekiel Euclid Leaf RI.a Mqueserasera Ace Cream Ignem revior NUSKI

In spite of Euphemia's sharp-tongued retort, Adrius' cool, light-hearted demeanor didn't falter. Indeed, it seemed the young Evoker was entirely unfazed by the jab, though the harsh undertone in her voice certainly did not go unnoticed. It wasn't like such a response wasn't to be expected, of course; in his experience, nobles of her stature tended to be a little touchy when it came to quips like the one he'd made. But even so, a part of him had been curious to see just how she would react to it, what with the most controlled way she'd taken everything else up to now.

Granted, whether or not that was his sole motivation for doing so in the first place was unclear, even to him. Either way, from her point of view, it was easy to believe that he was just messing with her. Which he probably was.

For a brief moment, he considered countering with a swift rejoinder of his own. Just as quickly as it had come, though, Adrius dismissed the thought, figuring that now was hardly time to get into a verbal spar, and that unlike Constance, she hadn't really done anything to warrant such a thing anyway. So instead, he only gave a light shrug and replied with a vague, "Not quite, but fair enough." And he'd left it at that, issuing a cordial farewell before heading off to the next person.

Now, as the current discussion of their plan continued on, Adrius tuned in with interest, listening to what the other Chosen had to say. Ayer's remark brought a smile to his face - or rather, caused the one he already had to grow a little more - and he glanced over at both Zima and Arya with a nod in agreement. "Right. I've got your backs," he affirmed. He then looked up at Zelos. "And I suppose this means that you'll be the Rook, old friend. You'll be the one to punch the demon out when the going gets tough. How's that sound?"

Hearing this, the Utukku let out a deep grunt and pounded his fist into his palm. Adrius couldn't help but laugh, because he knew that if there was anything that could get a reaction out of his familiar, it was either food or fighting. "Hahaha, that's the spirit!" He exclaimed, patting Zelos' arm once again. "Pun intended."

Following that, as far as he could tell, most of the others were in agreement with his plan, or his lack of one at any rate. He was glad; everyone being on the same page meant that cooperation would likely be easier on the field. Granted, Euphemia's vow to utterly destroy the creature did elicit a raised brow from the Ivory, but he didn't bother commenting. He couldn't say he agreed with her approach, but if that would be what it took to bring it down, then he wouldn't hesitate to go through with it.

He then heard Zima speak up shortly afterward, and her bold insistence on being front and center in the conflict drew a similar reaction from him. In this case, though, he was rather more impressed with the decision. To want to throw herself directly onto the front line, this Northlander must have either been exceedingly reckless, which he doubted, or tougher than she looked. And she already looked tough as nails. He watched for a moment further as she pulled out what he recognized to be a petricigacio crystal and called upon her familiar - Totoro apparently - and assigned it a role in the upcoming battle. Then, he turned his attention elsewhere.

And elsewhere, in this case, happened to be Enn, who was now standing in between himself and Ignem. Being one of the closest to her, he was just able to catch the whisper that followed her warning to Zima.

"We're. . . we're not going to die, are we?"

Adrius knew the logical answer to this to be something along the lines of "It's a possibility," but he knew full well that that probably wasn't going to do much to assuage her fears. So instead, turning to her, he went for a more optimistic response. "I doubt it," he told her conversationally, as if she'd only asked about something as trivial as whether or not it would rain today. Which he also doubted. "It's only the first trial. I'm sure whatever it is we'll be facing will be nothing to scoff at, but keep in mind that we're some of the best students from our respective schools. If we're to be putting our heads and our skills together, I'm sure there'll be no limit to what we can accomplish."

"And besides," he added, lowering his tone conspiratorially. "I like to think that we wouldn't have been chosen if we were likely to be killed in action on the first day." With a wink, he added, "And I do mean we. You were Chosen too."

Throughout the rest of the time they spent in the garden, Adrius dedicated some of his attention to other things as well, such as the presence of Klaus Willowhain nearby. He'd considered going over and saying hi, but he didn't really look like he desired any company, so the Evoker chose to just let him be for now. The trial was close to beginning anyway.

Perhaps more noticeable was the Enchanters' antics, which he only half paid attention to while conversing with his demon and the other Chosen. Ayer's inspection was something of an exception, though, as his antics were more than enough to draw his interest. He knew the guy was starstruck, but this was a whole another level of awkward. Not that he was judging, of course; he'd probably feel the same way if he were to have the pleasure of meeting Nathan Clairvoyant - who he just now realized was the only major professor of Highover that he hadn't encountered yet. He made a mental note to ask about him after the trial, because no way was he going to spend a while here and not get the chance to see him.

Anyway, interesting as the inspections were to spectate, the real excitement came about when Ms. Regalia finally went about actually testing the assorted guns, which she did by calling upon her Djinn and firing a few shots into a conjured Windwall. It was hardly the same as seeing her in action, but it was definitely something to look at, at least. On top of that, seeing her familiar did spawn thoughts of what he would like his Insurgo demon to be, once the time came to summon one. As far as he could tell, a Djinn probably would be a good fit, but he could also see himself choosing a Sitri or even a Daol just as easily. He couldn't deny that he found the thought of having a disembodied suit of armor to laze around with him rather appealing. Among other things, of course.

While he was musing over this to himself, Ayer made his return, and his voice snapped Adrius back into reality. "Hm? Oh, you didn't miss much," he assured with a slight smile. "Just a bit of conversation here and there. I believe we're about to begin soon, though, so I'd be getting ready for that." He commented as he made zero effort to get ready himself. He didn't even take off his cloak yet.

 

[Lekiel]

Euclid Leaf
"T-thank you so much! It is a great honor for you to handle my rifle -- No, dare I say, it is a prolific miracle that you have!" Ayer said, cheeks as bright as the sun, "Please, I am not worthy. If I had known you were going to use it, I would've prepared fine oils, replaced older gears, done a quick tune-up on the capacitors! Truly, such a crude thing it is not worthy of your beautiful, gracious hands. Oh, I'm so embarrassed..."

Loftgarden's emerald irises widened at the student's sudden outburst, though she shouldn't have been surprised if she'd seen the way the Northlander had been looking at her the whole time. Nevertheless, his enthusiastic reaction elicited a tinkling giggle from the young professor. "Ah-- No, that is definitely not necessary... but thank you for your kind words," she then offered a parting encouragement as she turned to her other charges, "all the best!"

revior
"Incredible..." Finn uttered, as he examined one of the imprifles Professor Loftgarden had prepared.

"What is?" Regalia quizzed lightly as she came up from behind him, the tall student's back obstructing her view momentarily.
"Oh--" Her voice seemed to falter when she finally came around and saw Silversling in the young Arland's hands. A pall seemed to fall over the usually light-hearted woman the moment she saw the rifle. Her expression flattened. It would've been a pretty convincing poker face had it not contrasted so sharply with her usual demeanour. Her lips moved as if she whispered under her breath, though Finn would've barely heard anything except for a barely decipherable, misplaced, and forgetful.

"I... Yes, of course, you may have this one for the trial." Regalia uttered, although a question hadn't really been asked.
"May it serve you better than it did its previous owner, 8 years ago." Something seemed to gloss over her usually bright brown eyes, a flicker of darkness, as one would remember a blighted memory. Her gaze was affixed not so much on the rifle, as it was drawn to the tarnished gold coin that hung from the chain strap. Embossed in its centre was an elaborate chalice. But Regalia's despondence was hidden soon enough, fading back into the recesses of the reticent Professor's visage as her visage once again reverted to her usual lighthearted self.
"Go on then." She gestured to the training grounds with a smile.

"May the Seven be with you."

⋨⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋩​

Wilder28
Enn looked at Adrius out of the corner of her eye when he spoke words of encouragement to her. She admired his ability to take things so casually. Unfazed by trepidation that even now wrung her entire body taut like an overly tuned bowstring.

"Yeah. . . I guess. . ." she replied, worrying her bottom lip. She tried to smile in return but the emotion fell flat on her face and was immediately replaced by a rather blank look.

The chosen were then led towards the centre of the ruined garden. Carved columns and slabs of broken rubble littered the arena, moss obscured undecipherable runes etched into their time-worn surfaces. They seemed to be all part of some large ancient building, or perhaps, remnants of multiple smaller structures. Small bodies of water appeared at random, some shallow while the depth of others could not be ascertained due to a cloud of silt lazily swirling just below the surface. The largest of the ponds was just beside the cage at the centre of the arena. The trapped demon within howled an unearthly wail as the students drew nearer.

It reminded Enn of the time when her father played a discordant note when one of his violin strings snapped. It wrenched at her nerves the wrong way.

"Remember, unbound demons are very different from what you are used to, or even have been taught about." Madame Delacour was speaking, offering some last-minute advice. "Be prepared for everything and do not let your focus waver. Work together, make use of your strengths and you will do fine." The Mistress Conjurer gazed over each student in turn.

"May the Seven be with you." Delacour bade the Chosen good luck before she and Lofgarden made their way to the edge of the arena. Enn's eyes followed her Professors' departing backs, watching as Delacour summoned Merengue, Ithotep and the heavily armoured Amon. Together with Shubit, the demons dispersed and stationed themselves at the four corners of the ruined garden. Despite their presence and that of the watchful eyes of her mentors, Enn couldn't help but wonder if they had moved too far. Or maybe the boundaries were too wide. What if something went horribly wrong? Would they be able to react in time?

"Ready!" Delacour's sonorous voice called.

Enn glanced nervously to those on either side of her. She swallowed down her fear and let out a steadying breath. Around her shoulders, even the usually somnolent Kala appeared wide awake, making tiny screeching noises at the rocking magical cage.

"BEGIN!"

At the final shout, the shimmering azure runes around the cage flickered for a final moment and then winked out. The growling and thrashing stopped as if the creature within could immediately sense its freedom and protested no longer; the ensuing silence weighed heavily. The roiling dark smoke seemed to shift as if it too were alive.

Then the cage fell apart and they could finally see their foe in all its terrible glory. Nearly fifteen feet at the shoulders, and that was not including the tips of its antlered head. It was a hulking mass of dead leaves, dark bristling fur and rotten peeling flesh. Hunching over on its hind legs and with large sinewy claws, it let out another howl. This time deafening, a noise of palpable horror. So loud that Enn had to clutch at her ears. It was as if the prison had somehow muffled the creature's earlier rage. The demon's maw gaped open, a maw that belonged to a very 'dead' looking head, yet was somehow sniffing and gnawing at the air and was very much alive. It appeared to have what could only be described as the top parts of large crow skulls, matched with a skeletal bottom jaw. On its head and back, initially mistaken for antlers were actually ashen branches. Dark black smoke continued to billow out from where its hide appeared to be peeling, spreading out over the ground like blighted corruption.

She'd gasped involuntarily, but her breath choked as her nostrils were suddenly filled with an overwhelming stench of carrion. She took an involuntary step back, a minute movement, but it caused the demon to suddenly snap its gaze towards the line of students. Enn's mind blanked and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears. Then with another roar, the beast charged towards a person. --The first one who replies

It moved incredibly swiftly, much too swiftly for its raging mass of abominable darkness. How would the Chosen react? To flee in terror? Stand in courage and defiance? Or to endure through wit and determination.

--Those with Perception Level 3 will vaguely recognize the demon from a long-forgotten memory of reading or being told somewhere. A name would come to them. Worduken. But try as they might, any further information currently eludes them.

 

[RI.a]

ARYA ;;​

The group voiced their thoughts about having a plan to counter their first trial, or rather not having one, had dampened Arya's mood significantly. The lady looked down in disappointment, meeting Finneas' eyes as he gave her an unmistakable 'I told you so' look. Deep down, she knew Ignem and everyone was right. There were far too many anomalies to properly plan and execute it successfully. But... Having no plan just didn't sit right with her. By the Seven, she couldn't even go to sleep without at least planning for the next day.

Arya's heart had translated Euphemia's fierce straightforwardness to a glimmer of hope. At least they had an aim-- albeit sounding a little brutal. However, Arya could settle on destroying the demon. To her knowledge, the unbound were unpredictable and strong. And from the sounds of the confined wails, terribly strong. They would need a strong defense or at least quick cast protection by the ear so they could weaken it without taking much damage. The battle slowly pieced itself together in her head, almost like smooth polished jig-saws in tune with each other to create a favourable end. As she got lost in her own fantasy, the conversation shifted, few had left to speak with Professor Loftgarden before returning. Picking up on words, she figured the topic was chess pieces and how Adrius' uttuku would have the role of a rook. A smile tugging at her lips from its wordless eagerness at a fight.

Arya would have to learn how to handle fighting without a solid script. Nerves of fear and doubt crept in easily, not only was this the first time some of the group members have met each other, they now have to survive and succeed in their first Reckoning trial together. Logically, as a magician, one would most likely have a similar encounter in their lifetime but surely only after gaining plenty of practical experience. Her jaw clenched at a rhythm, her fear of life and thoughts of everything and anything going wrong trickled into her head one by one. But a sudden jump of her foliot brought her back to reality. A gasp escaped the lady before she quickly extended her arms out to catch the fluffy spirit. His silent eyes bore into her dark ones. Anyone catching the two of them would find it odd. Arya's and Finneas's relationship ran deeper than most bounded spirits. Many nobles look down upon it; mutual fondness or friendship between master and demon was not the majority's world thinking. Due to Arya's childhood, she had grown and bonded with Finneas more than any other human. His presence and warmth in her arms and citrus gaze reminded her that she was not fighting alone. Already, her distress was replaced with comfort.

"You'll be my knight, won't you Finneas?" He purred and rubbed his forehead against her cheek in an endearing way.



Time soon ran out for discussion as they were led further in the ruins. Once they stopped, Finneas dropped down and stood on all fours protectively in front of Arya. Professor Delacour offered advice to them, to which Arya nodded. The sight of the two mistresses was replaced by summoned demons that spread themselves evenly throughout the garden. Turning to look at her team members one last time, Arya gave them a determined nod if she caught their eyes.

"Ready!"

Arya inhaled deeply... and exhaled;

"Begin!"

The cage had stopped rattling and no sound was heard from the demon for a while. It stood still as its prison fell apart, giving a moment for her to access what they were up against. To her horror, the young magician had not seen such a demon before. What was that? Its size and height terrified her so much her feet stuck to the ground. She didn't realise she stopped breathing till the large demon roared, causing Arya to flinch and cover her ears tightly. After recovering from the deathly howl, the excruciating stench of rot hit her nose and even her eyes, causing them to tear. No plan or whatsoever could have prepared her for this.

In an instant, the demon lunged towards her direction. Fear-stricken, Arya could not move. Her face paled and her body shivered uncontrollably. "Master!" Finneas shouted, gaining her attention before shooting a firebolt in the foul demon's way. He ran towards the demon, shooting firebolts as fast as he could to get its attention away from Arya. Recovering slightly, bright white runes started flickering around her fingers before she shot her palm outwards. A thick sheet of ice sprung up from the ground before her. What does she do next? What can she do next! She didn't know the first thing about what they were facing but she needed to try to survive at least. "Cover me!" She shouted towards her allies before sprinting out of the safety of mirrorwall. If the demon was still focussed on her, Arya would stop at a safe distance to cast font.

 

[Wilder28]

Adrius Devereux

References: Lekiel Euclid Leaf RI.a revior

Enn's response told Adrius that she probably didn't entirely believe him, or at least that what he said wasn't enough to fully calm her nerves. Which was more than fair, of course, when one considered the task ahead, that they were only moments away from engaging in a frightful dance with death. But even so, he really did believe that however difficult this would be, they would be able to get through it. It was only the first trial, after all, and how many Chosen had actually perished this early in? He was sure the number wasn't zero, but he was also quite certain that it wasn't substantial either.

At any rate, tempted as he was to actually ask that question to Delacour or Regalia, he decided to keep it to himself for now. Maybe he'd ask Kieran later. The Abjuror was already well accustomed to dealing with his random inquiries.

As for now, the time soon came for them to begin, and Adrius followed along as their instructors led them to the center of the garden they were in. Along the way, he couldn't help but look around and take in the scenery, even despite his focus on the challenge they would face. From the small ponds and puddles that littered the area to the dilapidated columns that lay scattered between them, there was hardly a feature of it that he didn't at least glance at. Maybe he was just trying to distract himself from the growing anxiousness he felt within, with theories of what it was that used to stand here and what had transpired to bring it all down. Or maybe he was just making note of the terrain in case he needed to make use of it, as he so often did when dueling outdoors.

Really, it could've even been both. It probably was.

Either way, he didn't get too long to think on it, because the walk wasn't a long one. Not to mention, the caged demon only grew louder as they came nearer, unleashing a horrific cry that pulled him right out of his thoughts. It may not have seemed like it, but the very sound of it sent chills down his spin, even eliciting a faint shudder. Beside him, even Zelos reacted, letting out a deep, bassy growl. A sign of annoyance and belligerence more than anything. Whether it was due to his courage or his dullness, this Utukku hardly shared his master's trepidation. It was rather heartening. At least, he thought so.

Before long, the both of them were standing in line with the rest of the Chosen, between Finn and Ayer, the cage now sitting only meters away from them. Not too close, but not what he'd call a safe distance either, if he was being honest. And he'd be lying if he'd said that he felt good about it. In contrast to his behavior just moments earlier, his nerves were now beginning to show through in the form of what his brother would call battle jitters. Unlike his Utukku, who stood still and resolute, he really couldn't keep still; his weight was shifting, his foot was tapping, his fingers waved and wriggled in silent rehearsal of the various Evocation spells he knew, and his eyes were never focused on one thing for more than three second. He would look from the cage to his familiar to the instructors, even as Delacour gave out her final bit of advice. Despite what she said, he seemed very much unfocused.

That didn't mean he wasn't paying attention, though, at least partially. Random thoughts flitted through his mind (What if he fell into a pond while fighting? What if it wasn't actually one demon they'd be facing, but a dozen smaller ones? What were the chances that Arya's hat would fly off during the battle?) but he nonetheless caught each of Delacour's words, and as he watched them summon their demons and send them to the four corners of the garden, he took a deep breath and made an effort to calm down. It was easy for him to keep a level head when the problem wasn't right in front of him, but now that it was, the gravity of the situation weighed down on him at last. He needed to let it go.

Convincing himself to loosen up, Adrius closed his eyes and adjusted his cloak, ceasing his shifting and keeping steady as he reveled in the familiar feeling of the midday breeze. It wasn't the same as his usual practice of standing among the clouds in the heights of the Ivory Tower, but it did the trick all the same. It helped that he also took assurance his bond with the demon beside him, who indeed seem to stand as tall and unmoving as any tower. People could say what they want about his brains, but Adrius chose him for a reason.

"Ready!"

At the sound of Delacour's call, the Evoker's eyes shot open, and he channeled the energy within him to his fingertips. Right away, they sparked with magic, poised to cast any spell he may require at a moment's notice. Then, in that brief moment of silence that followed, he threw a brief glance at the Chosen that stood with him, who all looked about as set as he did. And he decided that even if he didn't really know most of them, he was glad to have them at his side.

Lastly, he looked up at Zelos, who, sensing the imminent conflict, now stood ready for combat. It brought a slight smile to his face.

"BEGIN!"

His attention snapped back to the cage, and he shifted his stance to one that kept him poised for movement. The wards surrounding the case waned and wavered, then disappeared entirely. What followed after was a long moment of deep, unnerving silence.

"... Hm. Maybe it's just got cold feet," he quipped quietly after a few seconds, though his voice was still loud enough to be heard thanks to the lack of any other sound to drown it out.

Unfortunately, it did not, in fact, get cold feet.

Almost right after he'd said it, the cage collapsed, and the smoke within had seemingly coalesced into one horrific form. It was a horrific creature of blight and decay, one that reeked of rot and let out a shriek so frightening that Adrius had to take a couple of steps back, covering his ears as he did so. A part of him, upon seeing what he had to face, wanted to just up and run. But the rest of him, and all of Zelos, of course knew better than that. If at all frightened, his familiar hardly showed it. His only reaction was to huff and clench his fists, staring down the creature like he wasn't the Indignor he was.

The creature seemed to take a moment to get a feel for his surroundings, and Adrius knew that if his brother were here, he'd demand that they'd take advantage of that and attack it now. But he didn't; he was a tad too preoccupied in studying the creature, wondering just where he'd seen it before and why it seemed so familiar. He had to have read about it somewhere. Maybe in that old book of demons he'd had in his younger days, the one he used to be all too obsessed with reading before he wound up losing it.

Wherever he'd seen it, he could vaguely remember its name... Turducken? No, no, of course not. Wor... Worduken. Yes, that's what it was. A miracle that he could recall it now of all times.

Especially since now was hardly the time for recollection, and he was swiftly reminded of that when the beast let out yet another cry and charged one of their number - Arya. This was more than enough to get his mind back on track, and almost immediately, he sprung right into action.

"Go."

The unusually terse command was heeded without hesitation by his familiar, who wasted no time at all dashing forward to crash into the larger demon outright. As it wouldn't be a head-on collision, it was more aimed to knock it off course before it could get to Arya. Or, at least, that was Adrius' intention. Zelos just really wanted to hit it.

And as for Adrius himself, he was on the move. Already, he knew that he likely wasn't going to be somersaulting over this one, but that didn't mean he didn't have other tricks up his sleeve as well. His hands still alight with magic, he had now shot straight from a standing position into a rapid dash, cloak fluttering in the wind as he made to flank their adversary. He kicked off his attack with the basics: A rapid flurry of small fireballs, pointed ice shards, jagged stones, and miniature lightning bolts, in that order. In doing this, he alternated hands, firing one element with one and switching to another for next. This wasn't done for the express purpose of harming it, but to gauge its toughness and potentially distract it.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Ayer Lecomte - Highover Academy, Western Gardens/Secret Fountain GroVe

Mentions;
Wilder28 / RI.a / Lekiel /

Ayer wasn't really caught up in the conversation when Adrius shared words of encouragement with Enn. He clapped both of his cheeks to stop from the horrible smile and gazed over the two. She looked concerned, her eyes barely lifting from the ground. For what, he didn't know. Perhaps it was because he fulfilled one of his life's dreams, and his mood was on a massive upswing. But Ayer felt confident about his teammates and the trials ahead. If they failed, then it proved they were not worthy. That is the way of this, is it not? To him, it was just a fact of life. Success or failure was based on action, not worrying about conclusions that haven't happened. But he understood it somewhat. She was the sort to worry over people she didn't even know. After all, she was able to tolerate him of all people. So he wanted to help such a kind soul. In what way he can.

Ayer nodded vigorously from behind Adrius, trying to give Adrius the support he needed in cheering for the uncertain blonde. He wasn't sure that either of their actions helped, seeing as she was still stuck in her spell. Ayer tried to give Adrius a smile as reconciliation.

"She'll be fine. Everyone acts this way for their first ever encounter with wild demons. I remember I used to be the same."

He wanted to encourage his friend more, but it was time now for the party to move. The professors began to corral the chosen to their staging area as soon as all preparations with Loftgarden had been concluded. As the moments passed and they were led deeper into the arena, he saw a touch off about Adrius as well. He seemed distracted, glancing around all over the place. Ayer went up and held a hand against his shoulder.

"Feeling cold? I'll let you borrow one of my scarves." And without another word, he slung one off his neck and wrapped both ends over Adrius. It was a thick wool of deep teal with a interwoven diamond design bordered by little gold leaves.
"Yeah. This one matches your eyes." Ayer said, looking at Adrius with a bright smile. "Don't get it too scruffed up now!"

He then fell back, standing a fair length further behind the frontline as the roll-call earlier set in place. He only needed to be close enough to shoot, anyway. With a huff, he lowered the cannon into his other arm and rested his shoulder as he watched everyone get into position.
"Frumpy. Since I have several charged canisters from Loftgarden, I won't need you on mana duty. Here." he placed the two vials into the imps hands, "This goes for the rest of you. Give these to however I tell you. Got it?"

"Got it!" the trio cried in unison, who seemed a little frisky at the notion of the upcoming battle.
With a juggle, they began passing the vials around in a circle. "Blood for the blood gods! Skulls for the--"
"Oh, hush."

Ayer dropped to one knee, placing his head on the side of the metal barrel. Closing one eye, a deep yellow glean shone down the long metal barrel of Gribeauval. It was the glow of his tracer, as he wanted to check on the charge within one of the gifted impcanisters. Even though he expected there to be a clear difference, he was still shocked by how easily mana flowed through the shell compared to what he was used to.

Surely, I'm not even close to her skill, am I?

Snapping down on a crank, the cylinder popped out and Ayer quick loaded the round in. He held a soft smile, appreciating the genius of it. Meeting his idol made him feel jubilant. It was a dream brought to reality. But he knew that his daydreaming must come to an end.

With a more earnest look, Ayer then lifted the pair of iron sights adorning the hand-cannon Gribeauval. Immediately, his central vision was forced through an iron disk, except for the most focal point. His heart raced when he looked at what lay aim. It was just like that day. The first time he saw one. The arcane cage that the demon was held in shuddered and quaked, holding behind it a terrible truth. Looking at the intricacy of the runes sprawled across the stone, he felt a flood of memories. It swirled in his brain, all kinds of sensations and emotions. It was cold. There was the smell of damp air, like musky rain. This sense of uncertainty. Of fear. He never lift his eyes from the runed cage behind the iron sights. But now, Ayer suddenly found himself staring out from within the runed bars. Looking outward at hundreds of cages. The words of anyone, even the instructors who tried offering them advice would never reach him fully. Though he looked ahead at the party gathering in front of him, and could name each and all of their names... Ayer appeared wholeheartedly lost.

His eyes blinked, but there was no waking. There was a flurry of shadow and fire opening like a maw, swallowing the pale sky above. He was alone, left gazing at a vast bleached horizon with tear-stained eyes. Snow began to drip and fall around him, as though in response to his tears.
Slowly, Ayer reached out for it with his bandaged hand, allowing a black snowflake to fall on his palm. From behind, a voice spoke out to Ayer.

Do you think it exists out there? A place where the snow falls white?
If there isn't, I'll find it for you.
But.. What about you? What do you want to see more than ever?
I want...

... "BEGIN!"

Those words rocked him back to reality. The grim snow melted before his eyes, and he felt with a fettered tap on his ear.
"Master?" Ponkipie called.
"Oi, what did I tell you about interrupting me during a dream?"
"B-but, you had that troubled look on your face again..."
"What is that? Worry on your face? Haha, I can do without the pity." he smiled, "But thanks for taking me back. Can't let them have all the glory, can I? "

When the arcane rune supporting the entrapment were dissolved, the stone cage began to crumble apart. Ayer needed no other queue. He immediately leaned forward and pulled the lever on the side of the cannon to load the round into the chamber. With a steady finger over the trigger, he watched as the form of a large demon rose from the remains of the stone cage. This horned, wicked demon stood there. A hollow three headed animal-like skull watched the ones gathered before it. Snarling and sniffing, it put on a sickly act of imitation of a predatory beast. The wilden demon looked like it was some sort of amalgamation of flesh and nature elements, a twisted mockery of life. The hulking being suddenly pulled back and let out a sickening howl, one so fierce that the sound alone shook the forest around them. Even the grass seemed to wilt in its putrid presence.

He didn't flinch so much as tense up in anticipation as the beast bellowed. Ayer knew he needed to stay calm no matter what. Each shot is crucial to the battle. He couldn't risk missing.
Or worse, hitting the wrong target. It won't kill a human, these silverite bullets, but knocking them off balance at the wrong time was pretty much a death sentence.

"Pinkleton. Go to Adrius, hand him the Evocation Elixis. The purple one. Tell him to use it when he wants to do something big. And you, Ponkiepie. Eyes." with the commands, the two imps flew away.

While Pinkleton was rushing through the ranks on delivery, Ponkiepie split from his brother and fluttered far above the heads of the chosen and began to hover there. Then it struck a pose, stretching both of its stubby little arms flat and standing straight. This "T" pose indicated that there was no movement. They have trained this technique before. From a vantage point, the imp would give special body signals to indicate information regarding movements of the battle to Ayer.

He still relied on his eyes as well, staring down the demon from behind the barrel.
As soon as the demon rushed Ayra, he waited for a response from her so that he can support. But she didn't move. Was she struck with fear? Oh no. His finger immediately went under the trigger cover, but he seemed hesitant to fire straight away. With the speed of the demon, and the way everyone was still clumped, it wasn't a good shot at all. A very high misfire probability.

When it seemed like he would be left with no choice but to risk hitting one of his own in the back, Arya's foliot companion, Finneas, combined with efforts from both Adrius and Zelos rushing to face the monster head-on. This seemed to be enough to bring a kick of energy back to her body. A sheet of ice and barrage of elements fired from the three towards the rampaging demon. Honestly, Ayer was a little jealous. This was something he could never do. Mostly though, it was so damn beautiful. He wanted to be in the middle of it.

"Cover me!" he heard in the chaos.

Ayer quickly stowed his jealousy aside and took a deep breath. He can already tell one shot alone isn't enough to kill it. But if he can somehow slow it down, this would work better.
Waiting for the spells to connect, he made sure the demon's gnarled furred legs were center in the iron sight. Right locomotive limb should do.

His finger snapped --
BLAM!

...

 

[revior]

Finn Arland
​

As he stood with the Silversling in hand, waiting for it all to begin, Finn thought back on Loftgarden's curious behaviors just moments before. While it hardly showed on her expression, the sudden shift from her cheery demeanor to becoming completely stoic was something that stuck out. This imprifle, there seemed to be a history attached to it. Of the things she said, the things she muttered, it was clear that something happened eight years ago, though what that something was, Finn could not put it together with what little he currently knows.

Upon Delacour's call, Finn snapped back to his senses. It was not the time to wonder about things that do not concern him. What's important at this moment was that the imprifle was perfectly functional, performing better than what he had ever handled before. That ought to be more than enough. The rest was up to him and the rest of the Chosens.

From the cage and the dark smoke, their opponent emerged. It was a hulking creature of death and decay, whose parts seemed to be an assembly of that which were dying or already dead, of both plants and beasts. Upon sighting the Chosens, the creature let out a chilling howl, one that could not be compared to the one before. It struck fear into Finn's heart, he could feel his own will fighting the urge to give in to the terror and scream and cry to his heart's content for every single moment the howling echoed in his ears. The howling, however, was not the worst of it, as it came and then went, and Finn was able to hold for long enough. The problem was the smell, the scent that covered the entire grounds that lingered in the air, refusing to leave so long as the creature remained and perhaps even after it was gone. The scent was of death. It made Finn sick to the stomach and he could feel the sense of nausea overtaking him. Finn's sickness made his focus falter, but not enough to let the sense of familiarity with this creature slip him by. Worduken, he remembered it being called, though whatever details of it other than the name was lost to him.

When the creature began to move, fear struck him yet again, making him quite glad that he stood so far behind. For something of that size to move at such speed, the mere sight of it was terrifying. It made him want to run, to get as far away from it as possible. His survival instinct told him that it was a creature that he could not content with, that if he were to stand before it, he would perish in less than an instant. It took everything he had to simply stand his ground, or perhaps he was simply too paralyzed by fear to move. Either way, he could only stand by and watch as his eyes traced the beast's movement towards Arya, watch as the other tried everything at their disposal to stop the movements of the Worduken.

"It looks like you've already worn yourself out, Master Finn, even though it has barely begun. Perhaps you should rest."

"You shut your filthy Demon mouth, Xi!"

It was the first time he had reacted so poorly at the foliot's comments, always with various shades of patronizing. It was a sign that he was at his wit's end. The outburst of rage, however, granted him just a bit more strength, enough to push him ever so slightly forward.

He began tracing his fingers in the air, preparing a spell, one that would stop the Worduken's movements, even if for but a moment.

"Come forth and take shape before me," he called out as he finished up the runes, "Stricture!"

 

[Lekiel]

Slate grey orbs stared wide. Her fingers trembled. She watched in stupefied horror as the monstrosity spawned from the choking smog and began its attack. Barreling across the ancient ruins, knocking over crumbling pillars, the speed at which such a huge thing moved was uncanny. Unnatural. [/i]Horrifying[/i]. She was frozen into inaction and as it seemed, so was the victim of the howling onslaught. Like a rushing pall of death, the worduken wailed its frightening call, twisted limbs descending upon the diminutive sorceress even as her own familiar sent out bolts of fire in an effort to distract the demon. But the pain from the firebolts, if it felt it, seemed to only make it angrier.

Kala let out a warning screech. It wrenched Enn out of her daze.

She blinked. The spell of enthralling terror broke. Just as another hasty spell bloomed icy bright.

"Arya!"

Where the slight form of the petite sorceress stood, suddenly a towering wall of crystalline ice sprang forth from the ground. The worduken crashed into the wall with an earth-shaking CRACK. Spell runes fizzled. Held for but a moment. Then exploded as the brute force of the demon overpowered its energy. The wall shattered. But it had done its job.

The worduken roared in fury. Blinded by its rage as it tore and bashed at the crumbling magical ice only to find that Arya had already darted away.

“Keep running Arya!”

At first it seemed that the girl would’ve heeded her call. But the Hinokian faltered for a moment as if she thought she had created enough distance between her and danger to warrant further action.

“No!” Enn shrieked. She saw the spark of magic coalescing in Arya’s hands but knew it would be too late. “Icebolt!” She flung out her right-hand as time seemed to slow. She could see the azure runes of power binding together. With every completed runic sentence, it formed part of the body of ice that would be the spear to attempt to slay the demon. But she could also see the worduken gather on its haunches. Coiling like a spring against the remnants of the magical wall. Another roar and it had lunged forward. Clawed hands reaching for the raven-haired girl.

Her ice-bolt shot from her fingertips. Large and powerful. But much too slow. It would’ve been too late. Except for the flaming darts that flew out of the corner of her eye. Bolts of scorching fire seared into the worduken’s putrid hide. Then many more of various elemental energies. They weren’t strong, but the barrage of magical energy proved painful enough to disrupt the demon’s attack. It stumbled as it swiped at Arya, unfortunately, the tip of a claw still managing to clip the girl’s ankles. RI.a Arya’s thought to cast a spell instead of continuing her retreat nearly cost her life. But she’d feel a stab of pain in her foot as all of a sudden, she’d feel her world spinning about her as the force of the lunged tripped her footing, sending the raven-haired magician flying.

Spoiler

--Arya would be dazed and winded from her fall. One of her feet would be bleeding from a deep laceration. She would have hampered movements and suffer a decrease in willpower for one turn.

As the barrage of spells from the Kal’Borian and Enn herself fizzled into its hide, the worduken would quickly gather itself. The pinpricks of red that nestled in the eyesockets of its skulls would still be trained on the downed Arya. It snarled and attempted to resume its attack, but no sooner had it crawled to its feet when a burly mass of pure muscle and rage slammed into its side. Zelos was relentless. Despite the utukku’s considerable size, the worduken still towered over it but that did not stop it. The attack caught the worduken off guard, as the brawny demon pummeled its hide with powerful fists and tore bits of dilapidated rotting matter to the ground. Dark oozing blood, black as tar poured from its wounds as the two combatants wrestled in a twisted mass of rage.

But as the advantage of surprise wore off the larger demon quickly gained the upper hand. Claws the size of children swiped at the uttuku, rending bone and sinew as one of the Zelos’ arms was torn off. But even that did not stop the brawny demon from lunging forwards and landing blow after blow against the worduken’s skull. The worduken roared, slicing at the uttuku’s torso before grabbing it and tossing the demon against a crumbling ruin. Zelos smashed against the ground and bounced into the pillar like a ragdoll. The stones of the ruined groaned, unstable from being hit by the demon projectile. The fight had been brutal, but swift. But it bought enough time for Enn to rush to Arya’s aid.

“Come on, we need to move!” She grabbed the girl’s arms and attempted to help her away. The ground had already begun shaking and she daren’t look knowing that the worduken was likely already on the tail. But a sudden hum filled the air as silvery bolt of energy streaked towards her. At first it seemed like they were the targets, but Enn watched dumbfounded as the silverite bolt flashed past her. Then came an ear-splitting roar of pain. She turned just for a second to look.

A blackened spot of seemingly melting dark flesh had appeared on the worduken’s arm. Bits of rot sloshed off the wound, coating the ground in stinking patches of rotting flesh and wilted leaves that had once been part of it. But even despite its visible wounds sustained from the attacks thus far, the worduken appeared unaffected and relentless as it continued the charge. It seemed nothing could slow it. Enn screamed, knowing they would be trampled in a moment. But just as the demon leaped, all of a sudden, runic circles flared around its frame. From each, ethereal threads of arcane magic shot forth, quickly binding themselves to the demon and jerking it back from its attack.

The monstrosity roared and pulled at the magical threads, violently tugging as they dug into its folds of peeling flesh and rotten leafy hide. With light flashes, the threads began to snap. Their tenuous hold strained to the maximum, then snapped.

But they had bought just enough time.

Enn and Arya are safe for the immediate moment.

revior
--Finn would feel as if a great force had ripped his arms off, as an intense pressure smacked against his mind when his spell was forcefully broken. Though the former pain was momentary, it did not mean it was any less intense. Through the stunning daze, he somehow knew that if he had just a little more willpower, he'd have been able to bind the demon a little longer. But as it so happens, he now suffers reduced willpower for one turn.

Wilder28
--Zelos appears to be unmoving from his melee with the worduken. From his bond with the demon, Adrius would have no doubt that the demon's life is in danger. If he were to check on his demon, he would find that the utukku was utterly ravaged. Only desummoning it will save the demon's life.