Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Dec 27, 2016 12:45:10 GMT -6
To be fair, Circe probably should have just run.
Though she had kept her distance from the Shine orb, uncertain as to what it would do, she hadn't expected it to have such a large blast radius. It had tracked her, slowly, despite her efforts to evade it. At least Circe had been bright enough to lure the magic away from her impromptu partner. Circe's eyes stayed fixed on the man's body all while she side-stepped away from the sphere of light. Why did he seem so lax? Just because his visage was obscured by that shimmer Circe couldn't try to get a proper look at his face to read him.
Soon enough Althea's spell was unleashed, and Circe's eyes widened as the inky black tendrils of nether seemed to literally disintegrate the man. That...couldn't be right. Circe didn't necessarily doubt Althea's power or anything, but that reaction was off. Her earlier spells had been strong as well, but they certainly didn't cause spontaneous evaporation of their previous foes...
Unless-!
There was a quick, powerful flash of light to her right, towards Althea. Circe turned to look over in that direction, but she couldn't make out anything that happened through the light. It was only shortly after that initial burst of light that the accursed sphere that tracked her like a lame dog detonated as well. Circe's distance from the sphere kept her from feeling the full force of burning heat that the orb produced, but she was still temporarily blinded by how powerful that light had been. She crossed an arm over her face and turned away, staggering forward as she cursed under her breath.
Two things were now painfully obvious to her. First was that they had underestimated the man's abilities. If Circe was right, the man was able to maintain a fixed mirage of himself WHILE cloaking his own appearance at the same time through the use of the same spell. He also had been able to have that mirage launch a different spell, only to detonate that spell and utilize another immediately afterwards.
Whether Circe wanted to admit it or not, that level of multi-casting was way beyond her. Likely beyond Althea as well. It had no doubt taken a great deal of practice and natural talent to be able to make such versatile use of one's spells. How draining all of that casting had been on the man, though, was yet to be seen.
The second thing was that...his spells lacked bite. Circe knew that, compared to Anima or Elder, Light magic struggled to let loose the same destructive power the other two branches of magic. But that certainly hadn't slowed him down any when he had executed his man earlier. What was his angle now? Did he intend on tormenting her and Althea? It seemed wasteful...especially when Circe's eyes recovered, and she saw that Althea had not been dealt a serious blow. She had certainly been attacked, thrown forward and possibly burned due to the proximity of the spells that had been unleashed upon her. Yet there he was. He had been able to attack Althea from behind, but did not try to land a fatal blow.
If he was truly that cocky. Truly that arrogant...then that was another advantage for Circe and Althea to capitalize on. To be underestimated was truly a gift.
“I'm fine! Try and move around him!” His position was known to them, and as far as Circe could tell it was truly him this time. Not just some mirage conjured through the Aura tome. The immediate plan Circe could come up with involved maximizing the manipulation of his priorities. After all, he had two targets, whereas they only had one.
Circe wasn't one to simply bark out an order, though. Fire burned and danced before her face, channeled in the air rather than her hand. She could not match his skill, but she needed to do something more than what she already had been. So rather than hurl or launch her spells like she had been so far, she let the fireball fly, willing it to shoot straight at the man until it curved around his body, aimed to strike at his side as opposed to his center.
"I'll keep you covered until you're in position!" Or at least until she was out of her current one. Two more fireballs sparked to life before her body, dancing in a slightly erratic fashion. If she could not overpower the man, she would have to be unpredictable.
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Post by Althea on Dec 29, 2016 0:16:11 GMT -6
Well, at least Circe was fine. Althea wasn't really in much position to be excited about anything right now; her skin still tingled and burned from the sensation of the Light clashing against the nature of her own magic. But she was alive and not bleeding to death, so there was that at least! Small blessings and all that. She heard the suggestions Circe yelled out, but the fallen shaman found that her body was struggling to actually respond to them, the shaking not quite dissipated and her limbs weak. Althea wasn't sure if that was because she'd actually taken that much damage or if it was some effect of the light magic he had used on her.
"I - can't!" There was a tinge of panic in her voice, not quite desperation but definitely not exactly the calm and emotionless angel she tried to act like. Not even with the burning sensation of the sand on her bare arms, and GODS but it did hurt, was enough to give her the physical strength to leap upright and seek terrible vengeance upon her assailant. Even if, yeah, she was feeling a bit vindictive right now, but unfortunately being buttmad didn't grant superpowers last time she'd checked, and this time didn't look any more promising either.
As for Circe's attack, the Light magic user did actually look to see it this time, again intercepting it with his magic, though this time with a smaller bolt of what Althea thought... might... be basic Light magic rather than the far larger and more powerful orb he had obliterated the Anima mage's first attack with; this time the two clashed in a small detonation and essentially consumed each other. She really wasn't sure why, he obviously outclassed them to the point that fighting was barely even a formality, and he was winning. So why randomly tone it down for the second block?
"You're wasting your time, girl," the structured, unnatural voice echoed out across the battlefield, his attention turned back to Althea. "You will both die here. It is as I said; I had but to find the weakest link, and your advantage in numbers no longer means anything. Although..." his head turned to Circe for a moment as something seemed to occur to him. "You, at least, have some spirit. I like that." His voice sounded almost casual, no anger whatsoever, but sharpened suddenly. Looking directly at Circe now, he continued as he gestured to Althea. "Kill her, and I'll let you live."
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Dec 29, 2016 12:18:27 GMT -6
"Damn it..." Circe cursed under her breath. The situation had taken a dire turn indeed. Her attack had been intended to cover Althea, to buy the shamaness time to recover and re-position. Unfortunately she seemed to be rather incapable of that. She had indeed taken the worse end of the enemy's two-pronged assault. Worse still was that said enemy had been able to dispel Circe's magic anyway, the two spells combining in mid-air to detonate harmlessly in a rather...unimpressive display. Compared to the bolts of light that could impale a man, or that Shine orb from his last attack, the bolts the enemy had used to dispel Circe's magic had been rather tame. Surely those same bolts could have been powered up to the level of the one that had killed that thief earlier? After all, much as Circe's pride screamed at the mere thought, the enemy outclassed her AND Althea as a magus.
Yet rather than simply end the battle, like Circe feared, he instead began to speak. First he stated the strategy he had used to obtain his advantageous position, like some cocky chess player, but he did not stop there. He went on to praise Circe, which left her stomach churning rather than install any sort of gratitude or positive emotion, before he left Circe with a choice. She could be allowed to live if she was to kill Althea. A demand that was...ludicrous. Why would he bother taking the risk that Circe would even follow through such an order? In fact, why did Althea even live? With the power the man had already displayed Althea should have died in that two-pronged assault, and Circe should be the one in her position...
Was he out of magic power?
Gears began to turn in Circe's mind. Yes...all of those impressive displays of light magic. The use of the Aura and Shine spells, all in rapid succession and in combination. He had likely exhausted his reserves, and no longer had the power to deal a killing blow. That meant Circe did not even have to consider obeying his demand: he was in no position to truly give it. Instead he lied, took a gambit and attempted to fool the women that he was in such a position. This was not arrogance or cruelty, but he likely hoped it came across as that. Not to mention there was no telling when his reserves would begin to fill once more, and by the time Circe had dealt a killing blow to Althea there could be nothing to stop the man from killing her.
All right, so if the order that he had given was a ruse, and the only truly foolish move would be to follow said ruse, then what was Circe's best path? How best did she take advantage of the situation, moving off the assumption that she was correct?
...
"A-All right...I'll...I'll do it..." Circe stated with a gulp before she turned her gaze to Althea. Fire magic was still her strongest element available to her, so she called upon it once again. Flames began to dance between her knuckles as she took slow steps towards the downed shamaness. With each step she poured more of her magic into the fire, to feed the spirits that produced it. For this gambit to work it truly needed to look like it would be a killing blow, and she would need that power regardless. To push herself to her absolute current limit, and it showed. Tiny sparks began to shoot and fly off from the fire as it grew, nearly emcompassing her hands in a blaze that began to crackle and roar.
"I-I'm sorry. I wanted to help you but I...I don't want to die." Circe needed her guilt to be convincing, and thankfully her nerves worked for her in this instance. Her hands trembled as she stopped before Althea, a mere few steps from her. Heat began to build more and more around her fists as she continued to channel her magic, but only so much of her mind was focused on that. Circe's entire gambit would be for naught of Althea attempted to defend herself. Yet Circe did not know Althea. There was no secret sign she could give to tell the woman that she was not about to die. There was only one method Circe could think of. Her right side faced the enemy, so she winked with her left eye. She hoped it would be enough.
"Just...please don't struggle. I'll make this as quick as I can..." Just a little more time...
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Post by Althea on Dec 30, 2016 7:24:39 GMT -6
W-what? No, no, that wasn't how it was supposed to go, Circe would defy him proudly and they would fight and somehow beat him, and- and they would be friends, and... and... by the gods, was she going to die here? Saved from an untimely death, only to be slain, even worse executed in cold blood, out of... of cowardice? Unburdened by any knowledge of Circe's real goals, Althea's fear and confusion were most definitely real, crawling down her spine and across her face without any need whatsoever to pretend. Perhaps it had been simple naivete or unrealistic optimism, but she had dared to hope that this fight could have a happy outcome, a simple, by-the-books defense of valuable ruins. It was in fact the first real fight she had had since meeting Don and beginning to realize that she did need SOME level of strength to protect herself, and so having it go relatively well had been quite uplifting.
She tried to scramble away, but the chilling aura of the man's words froze her to the ground almost instantly, his words delivered with an element of cruelty that belied his previously emotionless tone "DON'T move." It was... ironic that what had become a two-on-one fight was still a two-on-one fight, but this time, the one could hardly stand a chance; she halted immediately, her hands on the desert sand, pushing her partially upright but unable to move any further.
The unfairness rankled at her, and fear turned to anger as Althea's carefully constructed barriers to suppress her emotion began to fail under the stress of the moment. Why... why did this always have to happen to her? Betrayed, by those she trusted and by chance alike, for no better reason than self-gratification, to fit in, to find a target for problems that she hadn't caused. She wanted to strike. To lash out. To destroy Circe as well as the monster who had convinced her to change sides, though in truth her anger was far more aimed at Circe in this moment. She couldn't just casually start charging a Flux spell, though. Not with the both of them watching her, not with the time it took.
But the... unfairness of it all was too much to bear, and Althea could feel her mind struggle to reassert dominance over emotion, attempting to disassemble the problem and solve each component piece. What could she do to save herself? Could she... try to replicate what had happened back in Lycia? She didn't know how, and more so Althea suspected that had been a, heh, once in a lifetime stroke of luck. Might still be worth trying though. Defeat Circe and then move on to the Light user? No, she could MAYBE take Circe with enough luck, but then she would die quickly to the man anyways. Outrun them? No, she wasn't especially athletic whereas Circe appeared to be, and her position was doubly disadvantageous.
Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, the shaman truly couldn't think of anything better than a final suicide attack of her own, but she didn't have the opportunity to do it, not in plain... sight... risking a glance at the acolyte, she registered that she was almost-sitting facing him, the sun overhead, Circe to her right. Her hands weren't quite behind her back, but enough... occupied to the point she couldn't obviously begin casting, but perhaps some shadow to work with... something flickered across Althea's face as the slight shadow her back cast on the sand shortly below it began to warp, gradually darken. It was subtle, slow; Nether magic was never fast at the best of times, and she was not experienced. But desperate times for desperate measures, and so Althea tried to branch out for once in her life as the pool of shadow deepened.
She didn't know if Circe could see it. She didn't know what her target was. She didn't know if she would even have time to launch it at all. In truth, Althea didn't even know what she would do with it. But as Circe approached, she began to charge her own magic, fueled by the anger rapidly consuming her, and with each heartbeat of hatred the shadow grew deeper still. Circe would notice. Would she? It wasn't easy to see. Was this a trick? Did she dare to trust the other mage, hoping that she had called the man's bluff, or would she get a signal of some sort? The fire magic the other mage used was clearly on a different level than what she had used so far... Althea wasn't an Anima expert, but she didn't get the feeling that she would survive a hit from that, Dark magic or no, and the problem was always that it would be faster than her.
But she would make it a mutually assured destruction. If she was to die here, she would drag Circe down to hell with her.
Something felt like it was about to break in the back of her mind, a darkness seeping through the cracks in the dam that had no end. Maybe she wasn't as good at dealing with pressure as she thought, Althea absentmindedly noted. Or maybe it was finally official that she was going crazy. But at the same time, something stopped her from trying to strike preemptively, even knowing it was a fool's idea. Was it that she hoped Circe had seen her begin to cast, and that she had not attacked yet meant that Circe had something planned? Was it some deep seated hope that the other mage was just trying to trick the man, and that there was no real danger? Was it weakness born of inexperience or cowardice, the truth that Althea had never taken an innocent life before, and that despite Circe's seeming betrayal she was clearly no wanton villain? Was that motion on Circe's face a signal of some sort, or just an involuntary tick out of fear of making her own first innocent kill? The shaman simply had no way of knowing, or in dealing with the tidal wave of emotion sweeping through her, her chest heaving as she tried to keep her breathing under control, to focus on her cast and not break out crying or anything too embarrassing.
...But she wouldn't go out begging. Althea had had enough of running. If she was to die here, she would at least do it with some dignity. A great many emotions showed clearly on her face, from fear to anger to betrayal to hatred, but she managed to keep her wavering voice almost close to calm, despite the clear emotion hindering it.
"Don't do this."
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 1, 2017 13:07:04 GMT -6
It was difficult for Circe to truly grasp everything from Althea's perspective. But she saw more than enough that the guilt threatened to break her. Althea, to some extent, truly believed that Circe had turned on her. Or, maybe that was not fully the case. Althea truly believed that she was going to die. That was probably more accurate. Whether it was Circe or the madman that had attempted to orchestrate the scenario mattered not. But Circe had never truly been faced with death as she forced Althea to face. It was doubly unfair, but Circe knew it was the only way to truly seize victory from one who could deem themself superior over them.
Besides, he no longer orchestrated the scene. This stage was Circe's now.
With a final show of sparks Circe spun on her heels and let out a loud war cry. The lighting of the area shifted, a reddish-orange glow cast across the sand and stone alike. Sparks ignited into flames, and flames threatened to become an inferno proper as a shapeless wave of fire erupted from the palms of her blazing fists. It was far from a fireball but not quite a geyser or spout. Almost like a wall, about the size of Circe herself, composed of pure flame that seemed to expand the more distance it gained, until it threatened to completely envelop the man before her. The light magic bastard who had pushed her this far.
And Circe's war cry was indeed loud. In part from the great effort the channeling of her spell had taken, as well as the sheer energy and emotion that fueled its launch, but also in part for the surprise factor. Between her loud shout and the sudden increase in temperature and lighting, Circe hoped he would be caught off guard by her spell. Unfortunately Circe had put the vast majority of her magical power into the spell, and upon its launch she immediately felt the consequences of such power. Her body felt drained, as if she had lost a great deal of blood, and her legs wobbled as the fire left her body.
If this spell was not enough, then Circe wasn't sure she could conjure up any magic that could harm the man. She needed to make sure this gambit paid off, so she looked to Althea in desperation.
"NOW! ATTACK!"
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Post by Althea on Jan 5, 2017 12:14:07 GMT -6
When Circe turned, Althea realized with a curious ennui that she wasn't quite sure how she felt about the development. It was a strange feeling given how worried she had been about dying a moment before, but it felt as though there was almost a sense of disappointment in her. It was... unlikely that she had been looking forward to dying, so the shaman was forced to admit that she wasn't actually sure what the explanation was. Had she been disappointed in expecting betrayal? A final clash? None of it really made sense, at least not of what she knew of her own mind, and yet the hateful emotions still hung like a cloud over her and poisoned her veins.
But... for the time being, at least... Circe was not her enemy. It was surprisingly difficult to transfer the rancor she had felt from Circe to their true foe despite the situation, but once the flow had begun it grew and grew and grew, a torrent of filth that burst through all dams and waterways and levees in its path. The intensity of the emotion was overwhelming, uncharacteristic even by the standards of how she could remember ever having felt before, but it all became fuel for a fire that burned darker than black.
Slightly aside from Circe's attack, still able to see the light mage directly without the diffusing of heat and light, though, she saw a sort of curious shimmer across his body. It seemed familiar for some reason... in her tiredness it took Althea a moment to grasp it, and it was only a momentary burst of sand seemingly at random a foot to his left that actually registered what was happening. The asshole was trying to trick them again, much as he had at the start, but in reverse; this time trying to force them into wasting their big ticket attacks on empty air so he could strike back unexpectedly again.
Something in her broke and the darkness that had been seeping from the back of her mind burst free, a torrent of rage that only added to the ebon flame. The subtly pooling darkness behind and beneath her erupted outward in every direction, a seething pool of Nether that consumed the sand and light alike as the confines of the Flux spell broke and were consumed by the rising tide of power. It was more than she had ever even attempted to control before, but rather than a terrifying and overwhelming force it was guided by her emotion, her will, strangely easy and familiar as though there were a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her fear had evaporated into the spell... stolen or soothed by it, she did not know, but there was no space left to worry about it. Even if it wasn't consuming her, this was by far the most magic she had ever manipulated, and she was, er, sitting on top of it so it behooved her not to lose control of it too badly.
Instead Althea turned the mass towards her foe, not quite at where Circe had aimed but to the left as a portal opened further to the left, something so dark that it seemed to devour the light from Circe's own approaching attack, and a torrent of inky darkness spewed out like a tide of horror. The effects were instantaneous, a shout of surprise and pain as the hidden man's mirage dropped in the wake of the sudden explosion targeting him, forcing him back... and distracting him from what else was coming for him.
The wall of flame smashed into his body just as he turned to face it, and the beginnings of a scream ended quickly as his lungs blistered and burned. The concussive force of the fiery assault mixed with the consuming darkness eating away at his body from behind clashed in imperfect harmony, but that much magical power concentrated in one place destructively didn't need to be perfectly harmonized to do damage to flesh and bone.
Althea's attack wore out first, the strain of her heightened emotion and holding open the portal to the Nether alike overloading her very quickly; she wasn't as experienced in casting as Circe, and dark magic was inherently more draining anyways. That was probably little consolation to their victim; by the time the fire had died down shortly after there wasn't enough left to bury, only glazed sand and pockmarks in the desert, a minor crater gouged out by the dark magic that still had traces of Nether pooling within.
Exhausted to the point that for a moment consciousness was but a welcome memory, the shaman slumped back to the ground to recover, only barely aware of the heat of the sand, though that near her had been cooled enough by the darkness that it wasn't as uncomfortable as she remembered... or maybe sensation in general wasn't working very well right then. It was hard to tell.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 6, 2017 11:05:26 GMT -6
Circe's vision blured as he knees began to tremble, her own will apparently the sole force that kept her standing upright. Her arms and hands trembled as the surge of power and tingling warmth alike began to leave her. A great numbness replaced it, a sensation that began at her fingertips and ran down her arms, eventually emcompassing her entire body. By the time Althea's impressive blast of magic collided with her own, she could barely feel her knees shake at all.
Her emotions, though, she felt all too well. The light mage's scream had not been drowned out by the rush of warped air from Althea's magic, not the crackling roar of Circe's. It was one of agony, as his body was eaten away in a matter that most humans likely ought not to ever see. The most destructive element combined with the most destructive magic, even from casters such as Circe and Althea, was practically nightmarish to behold. But the screech of the light mage's death cry was not all that broke through the collision. There was also a horrid stench, worse than the simple odour of burned flesh. It was akin to sulfur, enough to make Circe's stomach churn.
Yet through it all, somehow, she stood. A part of her mind refused to risk any chance of allowing that enemy to see her weak. So it was not until the magic burned away and died down that she collapsed onto her knees, her body no longer able to act defiant as she wished. Her chest heaved and every breath was a deep gasp or wheeze. Circe had never pushed her magic to the utmost limit before, so the experience was a truly exhausting one.
No, it was more than that. Everything...everything had begun to crash down. The putrid stench of the gruesome death they had delivered the man, that sense of panic Circe had picked up from Althea, during her mock betrayal. All of it finally settled in on her mind, as if the stress of the situation had been growing and growing in weight and mass, until it had finally hit a breaking point and something snapped. Circe's body began to tremble and shake a bit, the warm sand beneath her legs doing little to calm her.
It was not that Circe had been cold, but that the numbness lingered. Too much. Beyond her physical body. What terrified her, affected her more than all that she had just been through, was how...little...it had all affected her. Sure, the light mage had absolutely deserved his death, but there was next to no trace of the man left. Circe had witnessed the actual, nearly complete destruction of a human body...and the only thing that had bothered her was stench.
And by gods how easy it was to say what she needed to say. To do what had needed to be done. Poor Althea, who had no doubt thought Circe had fully intended to kill her for the chance to live. She felt so much sympathy, and yet to apologize was difficult. At the end of the day, in her mind, it had been the correct decision. The approach that accomplished her objective: the survival of them both.
But that very line of thinking was what terrified her. It was so...wrong.
“I'm sorry...” Came the eventual, shaky reply, after a somewhat lengthy silence. Circe kept her face downcast, towards the sand, as her vision blurred once more. Not from overexertion, but because of the light tears that had begun to cloud her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut, did her best to let none fall, but her body had little strength to even struggle that much.
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Post by Althea on Jan 8, 2017 17:21:10 GMT -6
Well, it wasn't like Althea had been looking for immediate conversation herself, before or after Circe's few forced out words. She might not be quite as utterly broken as Circe appeared to be, but the combination of the light mage's magical assault on her and the exhaustion from her own spell certainly combined into a sizable issue all her own - she'd never used magic of that caliber before, nor did she remember being attacked quite so directly either, so it had been an interesting learning experience. Not in a fun way, needless to say. But perhaps it had been a necessary one. It had been so easy to tell Don that she would 'get strong,' not really understanding what it meant. Not comprehending that fighting, that war, wasn't just throwing spells at bad guys until they fell over, and then you went back to studying or whatever.
"...This is what combat is, isn't it?" Her voice was hollow, not quite emotionless but lost and adrift without anything to truly latch onto. "The pain, the death... I didn't care about it at the time. I just wanted to live. But looking back, it was so - ugly." She was blathering somewhat, Althea knew that quite well on a purely intellectual level. It was like recognizing that two and two added together made four, or that four foes minus one meant one less problem to deal with. But she'd never actually had to take a life before. And she'd never realized what that actually felt like.
And yet she didn't for a second regret that she had killed. There was no urge to vomit. The stench didn't even bother her that much, she'd smelled worse from decaying bodies in the past when excavating. She had simply defended herself - her life against those who had meant to take it from her. She had won. That was all there was to it. Morally speaking, what she had done was arguably even objectively correct; she had likely saved the lives of their future victims and the knowledge of ruins they would have plundered.
But it still didn't feel so good from where she was standing. Er... lying. Down. Ugh. Pushing herself upright wasn't much easier than it had been the last time, but this time Althea's arms held out long enough to push herself into a sitting position, legs spread out before her, not quite feeling energetic enough to do much more but desperate for something resembling companionship, or at least a victim to let her emotions out on. To see if she HAD any left to even express. "...I really thought you were going to.. do it, though." To kill me, she couldn't say. So much for being the blunt spoken, heartless master of magic that all dark magic users were, huh? Couldn't even do that much right. "I was - you were the target of that spell until I realized the truth." To tear apart their foe, to drown him in the caustic waste of the Nether, that had been fine. But that wasn't what she had been planning to do. What had made perfect sense at the time, the terror of death mixed with the hatred of betrayal, seemed unbelievably petty and cruel now. "...I'm sorry, Circe, I should have trusted you."
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 8, 2017 22:33:13 GMT -6
It was admittedly disturbing to know that ghastly blast of raw nether magic had initially been aimed for Circe, but yet it felt like it should have been obvious after Althea made her admittance. Unless Althea had intended to make one final noble strike at the light mage, clearly the spell had been intended for Circe, who had been the ACTIVE THREAT at the time. Circe...couldn't be sure she would have acted any differently, had she been in Althea's position.
“We've only just met, Althea.” Circe managed to let out a chuckle as opposed to a sob, though she did bring a finger to her eyes to wipe the tears away. To her credit none had fallen, merely built up in her eyes. “I can't fault you for not trusting me. I didn't even have an objective reason to help you. No stake in this dig site, and I'm not a mercenary with a bounty...certainly no white knight, either.” Even though in Circe's mind, she had sent at least one signal to Althea, and there had been evidence that the light mage's reserves were nearly spent, she truly couldn't. That was very much a life or death situation, and it appeared neither of them were all that well equipped to handle one.
Or at least they lacked the experience. Circe was better equipped than she was comfortable with. It didn't help that, as the negative emotions began to slowly wash away, there was an undeniable sense of pride growing. A sense of victory and triumph.
“But yes. This is combat. I'd experienced it before, but I had my teacher with me. And things were...different. I thought I was ready for situations like this, and I barely hesitated to jump in to help you and...” Circe let out a small laugh and wiped away the next wave of tears. “Elimine, look at me now.”
Circe gazed over at Althea, who had pushed herself up. At least she had some strength to move, and hopefully she would recover before...the...oh crap the other enemies. Circe's head snapped back and forth as she studied the two surviving enemies. The light mage had only silenced one, and the other two were still apparently unconscious.
“Unfortunately we're not exactly in the clear just yet...” Circe took a deep breath. And then another. She let herself feel her chest rise and fall slowly. There was still a situation to handle, a battle to be won. She couldn't let herself just fall to pieces like that. She wasn't a little girl anymore, especially not out in Elibe. Why would Elibe show any extra care for a little girl? It was a cold, hard mistress of a continent and one had to know that truth in order to survive.
“What are we going to do with the survivors? The two men there...and there.” Circe pointed between the two. She did not adjust her current position because...well she wasn't quite certain she could stand yet. Circe hoped her body would respond properly soon enough, and that she had at least some juice left in the old magical tank.
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Post by Althea on Jan 11, 2017 0:17:35 GMT -6
'Jump in.' Circe's readiness took Althea aback, though not in the way of disgust. It wasn't that it bothered her so much as that she had trouble comprehending it. The idea of... WANTING to fight was still alien to her, not that she was exactly an expert on the subject. She had fought here because she saw no other choice than to sacrifice her morals, not for anything more noble or even her own search for strength. "...I've never fought before," the shaman admitted hesitantly after a moment, feeling compelled to match Circe's contribution to the conversation to some degree at least. "The superstition surrounding dark magic was generally enough to cow would-be thieves without needing to engage in violence." Was she... proud of that? Disappointed? Lycia had taught her that she couldn't run from all of her problems, but Althea didn't think that meant she had to face all of them with a fistful of dark magic, either.
But at the same time, she had to admit that Circe's intervention was the only reason she was still alive - and that the time could, perhaps -would- come that she was left with the same choice Circe had. Fight or flight. Use her power for good, or flee. To shirk doing the right thing simply to avoid combat was not right, was it? Hm. She could only hope that when the time came, she could pull it off with some degree of the same bravado Circe had... just without the tumble down the dune, if possible.
Actually standing upright was a taller challenge than she had expected, and the gradual push upwards was not exactly the proud eruption of movement of a seasoned warrior ready to leap back into the fray. Althea always had a slight sense of fragility around her, but it was intensely sharpened in the moment as she wobbled a bit, following Circe's motion and question with her eyes more than her body. The rest of the bandits... yes, they had begun this conversation before, hadn't they? Before the light magic user showed himself. Interestingly enough, where Althea had almost expected to feel anger at those who had meant her harm, there was only a blank nothingness to react to. It felt as though the decision was very far away, viewed through a looking glass, not an immediate, life and death decision.
Althea took a deep breath of her own, feeling the motion of her body as the air seemed to permeate her. Trying to find her center. Easier said than done, but at least it helped her focus a little better. "Neither of us is in any condition to carry them, and leaving them where they lay is a death sentence." She took a few steps to inspect the one, the fallen mage who had taken Circe's fire, and nudged his side with her foot. "...His water canteen is ruined. Even if we move them to the shade, they likely won't have the water to survive the trek back." So far, so good. Her voice certainly wasn't some paragon of strength, but she had managed to keep it fairly even and factual as she assessed the situation; she might not have much combat experience, but crisis management was something any archaeologist had SOME experience with at least.
But that resolve, and her words, faltered a bit as the shaman approached the obvious zenith of that line of reasoning. If leaving them alive was a cruel death... "Would - would it be a mercy to...?" She wasn't proud of the hesitance in her tone, but it was almost too horrible to say. Logical, perhaps. But human? Or was it more human to leave them to literally be baked alive rather than die quickly and relatively painlessly? THAT didn't sound like any kind of mercy Althea had ever heard of, but there was such a fundamental divide between the cruelty of doing nothing, and the 'mercy' of having that blood on her own hands, that made it difficult to stomach nonetheless.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 11, 2017 20:48:33 GMT -6
Althea had...never fought before? W-Well surely she had at least studied and practiced her magic. Her spells had too much power to them for her to be some complete novice. Though apparently it had been rather easy for her to avoid conflict outright. “Understandable. Most of Elibe believes they've seen the horrors that can be wrought by Elder magic...though, to be fair, most Elibe fears all magic beyond that of a healing staff.” Still, Circe knew all too well the stigma that surrounded elder magic, having been raised in Etruria. She could only imagine if she had taken to Elder magic instead of Anima, how her parents would have tried to prevent her from practicing or studying at all, and it would have been for her sake.
Oh gods her parents...what if Circe had died here? What then? How long would it be until her parents figured out the truth of the matter. How long would they wind up worried, only to be met with grief and sorrow? The thought hadn't even crossed her mind when she had dove into the battle. How selfless of her...yet did she let that fear drive her back home? To give up her goal, her dream, just for their sake? Would they really want that? More importantly, did she?
Circe knew the answer. She'd already asked herself the question before but...she had to make sure. After the experience she just had, the threat of death or worse that she had just faced, she needed to know she was prepared. Mentally, perhaps...but she needed to become stronger. Think smarter. Plan better. This had been too sloppy, even for a first proper battle.
The magus followed Althea's lead and forced herself to her feet. Her earlier emotions become steeled with a new-formed resolve. It wasn't all too strong, nor was it ironclad, but it was enough to push her past this onslaught of guilt and doubt. She still felt a bit queasy from the earlier stench, and her reserves still felt mostly depleted, but those concerns fell to the wayside when Althea began to speak. Right from the start Circe knew where she was headed, and she felt her throat tighten as she continued to speak.
“A mercy...”
She was right. There was no way the two had the strength or stamina to haul these grown men to the nearest village. By the time they came back with guardsmen or mercenaries it would likely be too late for them as well. The cruelty of the situation was obvious to Circe, and she let out a somewhat hollow chuckle. “...What choice do we have?” Circe's mind, again, was all too quick to accept the logical solution. Even if it felt so...so wrong, was there really any better way?
“I do not know if I have the strength in me to give them a quick death. My magical reserves are almost completely spent...” Circe took uneasy steps to make her way beside Althea. She gazed at the fair haired woman and hesitated. “I...don't want to put the burden on you. Nor do I want them to suffer longer than need be.” She didn't know what to do. The quickest way to kill one of the men would be...if she could find a knife, really. Some sort of light weapon she had the strength to actually wield. Otherwise it was electric magic, but she was so drained she wasn't sure she could muster more than a few sparks.
“Still I'll...leave the decision to you. If it's too great a burden then it's my responsibility to share it.”
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Post by Althea on Jan 13, 2017 18:57:57 GMT -6
"Sometimes fear is a greater weapon than any magic," Althea agreed slowly after considering Circe's words. "The fear of Elder magic tends to eclipse all others, though... a truth for which I am both regretful and grateful. It has both endangered and saved my life at various times."
And it was a mystery as well, it seemed. Althea had always thought that dark magic was the same as any other; if you understood it well enough, you could control it. Dangerous, absolutely, but a calculated risk. Recently though, as she began to use it more and more, she was seeing how... immature her perspective had been on the spells. Seeing... understanding things she hadn't before. And interestingly enough, it was NOT the growth of practice and experience. As much as she wanted to take credit for it, Althea truly hadn't had any legitimate reason to recognize the failures of her Flux spell, nor the... whatever the hell she had done at the end there. She had never been able to open a rift to the Nether directly, and for good reason, that was just stupid.
Finally, worrying and intriguing in equal parts, as far as she could tell it hadn't taken much, or anything, out of her. Emotionally, that was, the magical strain had been immense. As a shaman, she of all people knew the danger of dark magic; that it was fueled by emotion, that it could in theory keep drinking more and more until there was nothing left. It had certainly fed on her emotional distress, but it didn't feel as though it had been taken from her. It had more or less subsided naturally in the aftermath. The problem was that Althea could not actually tell if she had just misjudged the subtly deleterious effects of the magic, or if there had actually been something different about that cast. Despite being a far more dangerous spell than she had ever cast before, it had felt oddly... natural. Almost normal. As though she had cast it a thousand times before.
Hm. Thoughts for another time, perhaps. Carefully filing the thought away for future reference, Althea turned her attention to the more pressing matter... what to do with the two survivors. Neither was in much condition to survive if left behind, but even if they did it might cost more lives in the future. Staring down at the burnt mage for a few moments, a silent sentinel, Althea tried to reason through the problem in her head, breaking it down and solving each issue as best she could. But every road came back to the same truth; while leaving them here was likely murder anyways, the chance that they survived could have far reaching repercussions for others. These were not good men, innocents set lightly astray by circumstance. They were criminals, murderers. To be kind now would be assuming responsibility for their future actions, good or ill - and she did not think they would be for the better.
"...I will do it. Help me gather the bodies." The shaman swallowed, acutely aware of the... severity of what she was planning to do. "I can at least afford them a peaceful death rather than the torture of the desert. They deserve that much." She wasn't actually sure if they did, something the businesslike and objective part of her mind noted for future reference as well, but at least framing it that way made the burden on her conscience less overwhelming.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 14, 2017 13:17:42 GMT -6
“Even as an anima mage, I have little doubts I'll experience both ends of that fear as well. Not to your extent but...if you don't mind me asking, what made you decide to practice Elder magic? Does that double edged sort not bother you?” Circe wasn't sure how she felt about the knowledge that fear was a greater weapon than magic. It was something that she had always known, something she recognized, but to actually state aloud was another matter entirely. Yet at the same time, if these bandits had been afraid of Althea's magic, perhaps their lives could have been spared today. At the same time, though, would that have been a good thing? These men were thieves, with their leader ruthless enough to execute them upon failure.
It was complicated, to say the least, and yet woefully simplistic. Fear could prevent violence, but it could also incite it. Just as Althea had said. A double-edge sword.
With her focus set once again in the present world, Circe nodded as Althea agreed to give 'mercy' to the two thieves who lived. Both of them had shallow breathing, eyes closed, still unconscious. Circe had never been that PHYSICALLY strong, something she had to work on at least a bit for her style of casting to begin to come together, but at that moment her physical reserves were not as depleted as her magical reserves.
“In the meantime, I'll go and grab the mage.” The one she had struck down earlier. Heh, to think she had so much pride in that moment. Her first duel against another mage, and she had won it! That pride had not disappeared completely, but it had certainly been culled by the actual gravity of the situation. After all she felt very little pride in outwitting that light mage. He had just made far more mistakes than they had. It wasn't as though Circe and Althea had overpowered him, or outmaneuvered him. He had wrought his defeat upon himself.
Circe walked, a bit more steadily than earlier, towards the downed mage. She never got to see when she had first struck him, but she could see where her lightning magic had struck him. It had burned clear through his robes, blackened and scarred skin exposed to the air. There was a scent, not too different from the remains of the light mage, but far less potent and odious overall.
The young magus bent down and grabbed the man by the ankles. There was no way she was hefting him over her shoulder, or carrying him bridal style. She grunted and grit her teeth before she began to drag the man across the sand. This was the best she could manage.
“Note to self...overcharging a spell is absolutely a LAST resort.” Circe made the mental note as she steadily dragged the mage over to Althea. Once she was closer she released the man's ankles, stumbled backwards, and fell onto her rear with a small squeak.
It was hard to hide the blush from that screw-up.
“Ah...I brought this one here.”
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Post by Althea on Jan 14, 2017 19:17:37 GMT -6
It was a fair question. Why DID she use dark magic? Althea was no one's fool or entirely inept, but neither was she a prodigy of Elder magic - a quick minded child who had picked up the basics, but never anything more. She was no gifted goddess of magic. And yet... she had clung to dark magic nonetheless, despite the risks. She wanted to say she wasn't sure why, but the truth was, Althea did know, on at least some level, she always had. It was all she had left of her parents; the most rebellion and reaction that she had allowed herself to the events that had taken them from her.
In the meantime though, she busied herself with the task of dragging the electrocuted hulk of a man that Circe has shocked over to the arbitrary meeting place for the execution. ...That even sounded terrible. She sighed and focused more on lugging someone far heavier than her with muscles that were ah... well, there was a reason she didn't swing an axe around in combat, and it wasn't because Althea thought she was too good for it. She had also taken the brunt of the light mage's powerful Shine attack, so while her body had resumed functioning, the massive influx of light magic still left her uncomfortable, a little jittery, and most definitely weakened.
She was most definitely sweating by the time she dragged the bulky lug over to meet Circe's prize, and in no position whatsoever to mock the other mage for her weakness. Althea tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out very tired and small, her brow still furrowed in work as she finished heaving the corpse-to-be to its final position. "Thank you, Circe." Dropping the lug, she rose again, sounding almost as tired as she was. "I don't think I could have done it by myself." No point in, er, pointing out Circe's mishap, not only would it be crude in general, but doubly so after she had helped out so much.
Althea took a deep breath, trying to quell the heaving of her chest and the shortness of her lungs - but also to find an emotional equilibrium that would allow her to do what she must do. She was no implacable executioner or cruel monster, just a woman trying to do the right thing and accept the necessary responsibility... showing them mercy, as best she could, by taking their pain onto herself. It sounded good in theory. Kind almost. But to actually bear their burden herself, rather than trying to rationalize it away... adjusting their heads to lie closer together, she despaired at the idea, but forced herself to stand strong in it nonetheless. She could not ask this of Circe, not after all the mage had done for her and how bad her condition was.
Another breath. She had to be strong. Certain. Ignoring the slight spasming of her arms as she held them before her, Althea began to gather the power of the Nether once more, a writhing mass of viscous shadow that bubbled and flowed within the confines of the spherical seal she used to contain it. Ah... it hurt to stress her body, her magical reserves, her brow creasing in a mix of pain and concentration. But it was necessary. She couldn't just... stop, not until it was done. Not until it was all done. The ball of death in her hands pulsed gently, struggling against her confines, desperate to be free.
Once the overcharged Flux spell was stabilized to the point that releasing it wouldn't literally detonate in her face, the shaman carefully channeled and released it, the underside of the orb seeming to disintegrate to allow the iny tendrils of Nether to drip through, slowly at first until a solid mass gushed out of the seemingly unchanging orb. As it struck the sand, it sizzled and burned, corroding away at each grain - first leaving pockmarks, then as more and more fell down it became tiny rivers and channels, rapidly growing into a depression in the sand as the horrific mass pooled and congealed, stinking of death and decay as it carved through everything in its path.
The two skulls in its path didn't fair much better.
Even more exhausted now, Althea could only stare down at the dissipating death before her, feeling almost defeated in the wake of victory. They had won. They had survived. And she had offered them mercy, in her own way, at least as much as was possible given the circumstances. But it sure as hell didn't FEEL like mercy, and knowing what she had done ensured she would not forget it.
"...Rest in peace."
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 14, 2017 20:20:24 GMT -6
Althea thanked Circe while she sat there, butt on the sand, panting slightly from the effort. Circe didn't feel like she ought to be thanked for much. Okay, she DID save Althea's life. It was unlikely the woman would have survived facing all four thieves by herself, let alone that light mage. Highly unlikely. But this part, the real dirty work, Circe...she'd never felt so useless, honestly. Magical reserves were still spent, and just walking was a chore.
Though she supposed Althea was not much better off. She had taken greater damage from the light mage, and it did show, but her reserves were either larger than Circe's or she hadn't overcharged her last spell as much as Circe did. Hell, she wasn't sure how exactly that whole deal worked, but she was curious. Perhaps Althea had used a different spell, rather than...Flux, yes? Yes. Rather than Flux she had used a stronger spell. One that naturally produced more power with less stress. Trinity did not allow for great feats to come with any sort of ease. It was “beginner” magic, left for pupils and starting mages.
She had simply pushed her Trinity spell too far, and it had cost her dearly. Circe had learned a great deal from this battle. More than anything else, she learned that she was lucky to be alive. In a battle that consisted of six individuals, only two had survived it. Regardless of groups or teams, that was...a high death rate. Two thirds, and she was part of the one third that survived.
Rather than simply wallow in self-pity, however, Circe forced herself back to her feet. The...execution...was at hand, and she did not want to be sitting down for it. Something about it felt disrespectful. She ought to at least stand and watch. Circe had directly contributed, if not outright taken, sealed the lives of both thieves. The least she could do was watch their final moments, since she had the luxury to do so.
Circe watched as Althea clearly pushed herself. Perhaps emotionally, but certainly physically and magically, to channel a spell great enough to give them a swift death. Purest darkness gushed forth from her Flux orb and consumed the bodies of the men. It ate through them quickly, but not quickly enough for Circe's liking. It took all of her remaining will to keep the contents of her stomach down.
But she dared not look away. This, right here, was the cost of combat. If Circe was to fight with the intent to kill or maim another human being, she needed to know exactly what she condemned them to. She was no child anymore, and she could not allow herself to live in a child's world.
In time, the deed was down, and the nether subsided. Althea looked particularly drained, but she managed to utter out words of respect.
Circe kept her gaze fixed on...the execution grounds, and closed her eyes. “Rest in peace.”
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