Lucretia, Queen of the Water Nymphs, sat in the reflection chamber of her underwater chateau. Serenity and tranquility seeped into her mind as she pondered the state of the world, the difficulties in hiding the fantastic from the mundane, and how much she loved the movies of humans. At that moment of sheer bliss, one of her attendants rushed in.
"My lady, someone has created a Water Nymph." He panted - clearly having run from his post to give her this strange news.
"What exactly do you mean when you say that someone 'made' a Water Nymph?" Lucretia knew magic - knew the groups who could use use it, how they used it, and why. She made it her business to know. This nymph was one of her magic analysts - trained to read data coming from magical probes placed all over the world.
"Well, if you'll remember, my lady, you assigned me several years ago to watch that mysterious ivory tower and amidst the constant magic readings coming in from that tower, this was the very first piece of data I was successfully able to interpret. Several minutes ago someone working somewhere inside that tower created a Water Nymph through magic. I'm not sure how - or what kind of magic they employed even. But that's what they did." This Ivory Tower, of which Lucretia admittedly knew very little, had nagged at the back of her mind for a long time. The power surrounding and flowing out of it was unreadable even to her specialized analysts. No other magical place or group could claim that status. Who - or what - hides behind those thick walls, she wondered. She had previously resolved that she would simply watch them until she had something to go on. Now, after years of watching, her only piece of evidence forced a response.
"I'm going there myself," she stated bluntly, and she evaporated out of the room. Teletravel wasn't typically a power of Water Nymphs, but Lucretia had spent considerable time studying magic. It'll take everything I've learned before to glean anything about the Tower, she thought, trying to prepare herself for imminent arrival. The first thing Lucretia learned about the Ivory Tower, as her essence slammed aginst a brick wall of magic, was that the entire Tower was covered in an anti-teletravel spell. A really strong one if it repelled me. She found herself standing outside the Tower. She looked around, trying to probe her surroundings. She next noticed that the entire Tower existed on Borrowed Space. Borrowed Space magic - powerful and dangerous stuff designed by a mysterious sect of mystics known only as Whim - allowed magical stuff to "borrow" space from the real world so that no one could find it, realize it was being used, or miss it. However, the danger was that it created a "double" space, and if at any time the spell became unsustainable and collapsed, the double smashed into a single and the mix was disastrous and irreversible. These are no ordinary spellcasters she thought as she continued searching for a door. She found it - open - with a woman in golden robes standing there and smiling at her.
"Lady Lucretia, Queen of the Water Nymphs, welcome to the Ivory Tower. We've been hoping you'd come to visit soon.'
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Reality Setting In
Pain, like slivers in the foot of a child
Reminds me of where we’ve come to.
Sure they ache and hurt and I cry,
But it happened during something
That should have been fun.
Ice, like daggers dangling from the roof
Reflects the light of memories dancing
All the times we’ve had play in the glass
But I realize they are all gone – over – now
And won’t come back.
Sorry, like an over-worn slipper or sock
Sticks in my parched, ineffective throat
The gap between us an insufferable chasm
But maybe saying it will help the pain
Or at least soothe my soul.
Goodbye, I guess, is all that’s left to do
Glimmering with thanks for fun and all
Sinking with the break that brought us here
But maybe goodbye is not a permanent thing
Maybe tomorrow will come.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Revelations and Endings: Episode 3
Iseta loathed kitchen duty. All responsibilities in the Tower shifted weekly between the various inhabitants, and Iseta routinely dreaded the week every cycle that she would supervise the kitchen. The kitchen, enchanted to the highest degree possible, should have held no terror since supervision was a minimal occupation at best. However, under Iseta's watch, water had burned to crisp, cupcakes had developed malicious will and revolted, carrots had held her hostage, and once - inexplicably - an indifferent almond flan had spilled maple syrup on the floor, trapping Iseta in place, and had spent the day mocking her and shattering her self-esteem. At this point, Iseta knew that her capacity for disaster when forced to cook would never go away. Relax, Iseta, you're just putting water in a pot. What could go wrong?
"Iseta!" rang the ironic call from Dracona's lips that made her spill the water everywhere. Dracona had a reputation for entering raucously, but Iseta couldn't imagine what could possibly drive someone to enter a kitchen so unabashedly.
"Dracona! Why must you always sneak up on people and insist on threatening their mental health by startling them? You know what I'm like in the kitchen - my nerves were already stiffer than a Greco-Roman statue!" As she hissed out the rest of her frustration, Iseta pulled out her ebony wand streaked with radical indigo and cleared the surprise deluge from the floor, and filled the water pot as she had intended to do.
Dracona also had a reputation for stubbornly never admitting fault. "You should have done it with magic in the first place," she retorted, "then you wouldn't have spilled when I came to see you."
"Oh yes, because a wand is MUCH safer than an inanimate pot of water to be holding when surprised. Seriously, any number of calamities can come from a wand - the pot can only spill." And perhaps bash in your skull for being so agitating, Iseta added in her head. "Anyways, what warranted your crisis-level, thought-scattering entrance?"
"While sitting on the lawn, I saw Athelus sneak of discretely. I wanted to know where she went. Something is afoot. Did she tell you where she was going?" Despite the still-agitated retort forming in her mind, Iseta didn't get a chance to answer before a Whimball - Polaris' enchanted form of communication - came and sat between the two. Since neither knew who it was for, they bade it speak simultaneously with glares at each other.
Iseta, please be advised that the tower is in grave danger and I need you to go check the Defenses Room and evaluate our preparedness for battle - should it come to that. Dracona, in case you missed it the first time, the tower is in grave danger. Stop meddling in what others are doing.
"That's it?" Dracona balked. "Athelus runs off on some secret mission, you have to evaluate the Tower's battle status, and what am I supposed to do? Stop meddling. Hmph. there must be some way I can help."
Iseta worked hard not to smirk as she replied. "Sure you can help - watch the kitchen." Iseta tried to make a quick exit but Dracona whipped out her wand and stole the key to the Defense Room from Iseta's pocket. The two ran off, Iseta chasing Dracona and shouting at her, leaving a just-starting-to-boil pot of water on the kitchen stove.
"Iseta!" rang the ironic call from Dracona's lips that made her spill the water everywhere. Dracona had a reputation for entering raucously, but Iseta couldn't imagine what could possibly drive someone to enter a kitchen so unabashedly.
"Dracona! Why must you always sneak up on people and insist on threatening their mental health by startling them? You know what I'm like in the kitchen - my nerves were already stiffer than a Greco-Roman statue!" As she hissed out the rest of her frustration, Iseta pulled out her ebony wand streaked with radical indigo and cleared the surprise deluge from the floor, and filled the water pot as she had intended to do.
Dracona also had a reputation for stubbornly never admitting fault. "You should have done it with magic in the first place," she retorted, "then you wouldn't have spilled when I came to see you."
"Oh yes, because a wand is MUCH safer than an inanimate pot of water to be holding when surprised. Seriously, any number of calamities can come from a wand - the pot can only spill." And perhaps bash in your skull for being so agitating, Iseta added in her head. "Anyways, what warranted your crisis-level, thought-scattering entrance?"
"While sitting on the lawn, I saw Athelus sneak of discretely. I wanted to know where she went. Something is afoot. Did she tell you where she was going?" Despite the still-agitated retort forming in her mind, Iseta didn't get a chance to answer before a Whimball - Polaris' enchanted form of communication - came and sat between the two. Since neither knew who it was for, they bade it speak simultaneously with glares at each other.
Iseta, please be advised that the tower is in grave danger and I need you to go check the Defenses Room and evaluate our preparedness for battle - should it come to that. Dracona, in case you missed it the first time, the tower is in grave danger. Stop meddling in what others are doing.
"That's it?" Dracona balked. "Athelus runs off on some secret mission, you have to evaluate the Tower's battle status, and what am I supposed to do? Stop meddling. Hmph. there must be some way I can help."
Iseta worked hard not to smirk as she replied. "Sure you can help - watch the kitchen." Iseta tried to make a quick exit but Dracona whipped out her wand and stole the key to the Defense Room from Iseta's pocket. The two ran off, Iseta chasing Dracona and shouting at her, leaving a just-starting-to-boil pot of water on the kitchen stove.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Revelations and Endings: Episode 2
Athelus sat and opened the ledger at the library desk as she had for countless days in a row. Polaris had asked her to maintain the library in her spare time, and she loved the job, but things had been so quiet for so long. A part of her, despite her affinity with healing, craved battle simply for a change of pace. Dracona hadn't even blown anything up in over a month. She knew why, but preferred not to think about it: everyone knew the Tower would have to move again soon. She took a walk through the halls and floors of books, pleased to see that, as always, all was in order. The Tower inhabitants treated the books with deep respect, and that satisfied her immensely. She sat down to write in her journal when a silvery orb of magic appeared in front of her. Whim magic, from Polaris, she thought.
"Speak, orb. What message do you bring?"
Polaris' voice came out of the silver orb and she could barely contain her inappropriate excitement. The Tower now faces it's greatest threat, beyond what we could ever conceive. Be prepared for a meeting soon. She leaped up at the thought, and realized she ought to worry and feel displeased rather than excited. She sat back down, desperately trying to relax, when she felt an odd tugging at her soul, as if someone had summoned her. Perhaps the meeting is already happening, she surmised, and relinquished herself to the tug with closed eyes.
She opened her eyes to an all-white room with nothing in it but a pedestal of whitewood topped by a frosted glass orb. This was the Room of Recording, a room where all the memories of many worlds could be stored and reviewed. The room held all information imaginable, but the room allowed people in by summons only. Such levels of information were dangerous, so only the Room decided who got in, when, and what they would see.
The room's deep voice spoke out: "Athelus, Healer-Warrior, will you see what I have to show you?" She had to choose, in that moment, whether she would put her hand on the frosted orb and see the memories offered her or decline, and lose this moment. She had no reason to fear, but walking up to the orb still felt solemn, somehow auspicious.
The walls of the room swirled with color and scenes began to appear. Athelus saw scenes of old enemies approaching the tower: Maleficent and the Heartless, Sauron and his orcs, and many others.
"The danger now coming will cause far more pain than anything that's ever happened." The voice said.
The colors swirled again and the wall displayed the many friends and members of the Tower. Athelus painfully realized how many were gone. The Tower had fewer inhabitants than ever before, and the pain ran deep.
"How can we hope to win with so few?" she asked the Room.
The colors swirled and displayed a young boy - perhaps a man, but youthful looking. He lay on the grass with a bow in hand, aiming for a rabbit. Athelus felt pained as she saw the the rabbit's den nearby and baby bunnies inside. She suddenly saw the hunter also notice the den. He relinquished his shot, lowered his bow. He tossed a carrot into the den and walked away. Athelus smiled at his generosity, and then saw the mark on his wrist. She knew that insignia: it was the brand of a local guild of assassins.
"Why do you show me this being?" she asked.
"He needs help. If you help him, he can help in return. But you must go find him."
"Where is he?"
The colors swirled faster and faster until Athelus found herself back in the library. She began packing some supplies hurriedly, and paused only when she realized Polaris stood in front of her. "Whatever you're doing, I trust you," he said.
"Thank you," she replied. As she rushed out of the room, Polaris tried to stop her to give her the book she left behind. Polaris knew that even in such a rush Athelus never left books behind. He didn't catch her however, and glanced at the book.
"Curious, indeed." He put the book back on her desk, tracing the word 'Hyozanryu' as he released it.
"Speak, orb. What message do you bring?"
Polaris' voice came out of the silver orb and she could barely contain her inappropriate excitement. The Tower now faces it's greatest threat, beyond what we could ever conceive. Be prepared for a meeting soon. She leaped up at the thought, and realized she ought to worry and feel displeased rather than excited. She sat back down, desperately trying to relax, when she felt an odd tugging at her soul, as if someone had summoned her. Perhaps the meeting is already happening, she surmised, and relinquished herself to the tug with closed eyes.
She opened her eyes to an all-white room with nothing in it but a pedestal of whitewood topped by a frosted glass orb. This was the Room of Recording, a room where all the memories of many worlds could be stored and reviewed. The room held all information imaginable, but the room allowed people in by summons only. Such levels of information were dangerous, so only the Room decided who got in, when, and what they would see.
The room's deep voice spoke out: "Athelus, Healer-Warrior, will you see what I have to show you?" She had to choose, in that moment, whether she would put her hand on the frosted orb and see the memories offered her or decline, and lose this moment. She had no reason to fear, but walking up to the orb still felt solemn, somehow auspicious.
The walls of the room swirled with color and scenes began to appear. Athelus saw scenes of old enemies approaching the tower: Maleficent and the Heartless, Sauron and his orcs, and many others.
"The danger now coming will cause far more pain than anything that's ever happened." The voice said.
The colors swirled again and the wall displayed the many friends and members of the Tower. Athelus painfully realized how many were gone. The Tower had fewer inhabitants than ever before, and the pain ran deep.
"How can we hope to win with so few?" she asked the Room.
The colors swirled and displayed a young boy - perhaps a man, but youthful looking. He lay on the grass with a bow in hand, aiming for a rabbit. Athelus felt pained as she saw the the rabbit's den nearby and baby bunnies inside. She suddenly saw the hunter also notice the den. He relinquished his shot, lowered his bow. He tossed a carrot into the den and walked away. Athelus smiled at his generosity, and then saw the mark on his wrist. She knew that insignia: it was the brand of a local guild of assassins.
"Why do you show me this being?" she asked.
"He needs help. If you help him, he can help in return. But you must go find him."
"Where is he?"
The colors swirled faster and faster until Athelus found herself back in the library. She began packing some supplies hurriedly, and paused only when she realized Polaris stood in front of her. "Whatever you're doing, I trust you," he said.
"Thank you," she replied. As she rushed out of the room, Polaris tried to stop her to give her the book she left behind. Polaris knew that even in such a rush Athelus never left books behind. He didn't catch her however, and glanced at the book.
"Curious, indeed." He put the book back on her desk, tracing the word 'Hyozanryu' as he released it.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Revelations and Ends: Episode 1
I keep thinking about how it must be almost over. The Tower has been here for four years, almost, and it never lasts anywhere long. Dark thoughts of leaving, of the end, keep cropping up in my head. A heavy sorrow fills my mind when I think about it, so I try not to. I have loved it here, have been so happy here, and refuse to consider leaving yet. Worse still, every time the Tower moves, some friends are left behind. Some always stay, as is their prerogative, but I cannot bear to leave any of these people who have worked and lived here. It would tear me to pieces. I will not think about it anymore.
Polaris shut his journal, and forcibly shoved it into his desk drawer. He stood up and looked out the window of his study. Dracona and Link were working in the garden, others were playing tag. He knew Athelus was in the library, with the books, and that all the many friends of the Tower were around, living and studying, working and thinking, the body of creativity that the Tower was known for. Others were off, seeing the world and spreading the creativity. He wiped a single tear from his cheek, shook his head, and walked away. The pain, his alone to bear, would find no expression if he could help it. He left his study and headed up the stairs.
Life at the Tower had been quiet, peaceful, and wonderful for a long time. No sense of foreboding haunted the Tower, no concerns, no threats or enemies. He headed to the magic radar out of something like boredom, halfheartedly hoping that danger might come soon.
DANGER! DANGER! UNKNOWN THREAT OF LEVEL 7! DANGER! DANGER!
Convinced that he had misread it, he looked at the screen again. He had indeed read it correctly, however. The radar had never read a threat of level 7 before. Polaris calmly walked over to the transmitter and turned it on. "To all friends of the Ivory Tower. A danger we have never before conceived now threatens this world. Wherever you are. consider this your summons: the Ivory Tower needs your help."
Polaris walked to the window and waited to see who would come.
Polaris shut his journal, and forcibly shoved it into his desk drawer. He stood up and looked out the window of his study. Dracona and Link were working in the garden, others were playing tag. He knew Athelus was in the library, with the books, and that all the many friends of the Tower were around, living and studying, working and thinking, the body of creativity that the Tower was known for. Others were off, seeing the world and spreading the creativity. He wiped a single tear from his cheek, shook his head, and walked away. The pain, his alone to bear, would find no expression if he could help it. He left his study and headed up the stairs.
Life at the Tower had been quiet, peaceful, and wonderful for a long time. No sense of foreboding haunted the Tower, no concerns, no threats or enemies. He headed to the magic radar out of something like boredom, halfheartedly hoping that danger might come soon.
DANGER! DANGER! UNKNOWN THREAT OF LEVEL 7! DANGER! DANGER!
Convinced that he had misread it, he looked at the screen again. He had indeed read it correctly, however. The radar had never read a threat of level 7 before. Polaris calmly walked over to the transmitter and turned it on. "To all friends of the Ivory Tower. A danger we have never before conceived now threatens this world. Wherever you are. consider this your summons: the Ivory Tower needs your help."
Polaris walked to the window and waited to see who would come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)