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Post by Donovan on Sept 24, 2019 1:06:55 GMT -6
Mila returning his hug felt like a greater victory to the Mercenary that slaying any wight ever had. The sadness and hopelessness that she had been exuding early was still there, but he’d managed to fight his way through the dread and depression and at least give her a hand to pull herself out of the proverbial mosh pit. “I think that between the pair of them, you should be plenty comforted!” He couldn’t help but laugh happily as Kitchi excitedly pressed his nose up against the glass jar to try and get a closer look at his new friend.
Donovan still felt that happiness in his heart as he began his story. As much as he’d been dreading returning to Lycia. As much as he’d been sunk into the depths of self loathing and hopelessness. It seemed that the simple act of helping Mila, a friend in even greater need than his own, had shocked him back to life.
“A while back - and I’ll be honest, I stopped keeping track of time months ago, probably - I had to leave. Well. To be more accurate, I had to search for someone. This was back when I was running with the Nameless and the LCO.
“A… A good friend of mine went awol, and I went looking for them. I told Doogan to keep the ship afloat, and that I’d find them and bring us both home in a matter of weeks. But after the first few weeks, I couldn’t get a bead on them. And those few weeks turned into a few months. And I… I just felt so good to be out of this war zone. And so guilty for leaving my friends behind.” Whatever happiness had been in his voice was beginning to falter. “I couldn’t find them, and I just realized one day, that I’d rather spend my life trying to find my friend than give up and go fight the good fight without them.”
“Everything felt hollow, like everything I tasted was made of chalk, and everything I heard was played on one note. I’ve been living in a world without color. And every day that I didn’t find them was a day I knew I was letting innocent people die for my quest. For an increasingly futile hope…
“I lost contact with Doogan pretty quickly. Once I realized they weren’t in Lycia, I had to look farther and farther. But it’s like they just vanished. I never found…” But the name caught in his throat. It felt as though it wasn’t his story to end.
“Eventually I just… gave up. I couldn’t live with letting my search continue while everyone else fought a battle I promised to lead. I had to come home. I had to help. But giving up only made me feel like I was dead. And what good is a dead man fighting for the living? But I came back anyway. Because I knew if I didn’t… There are just some things that are worse than being dead. And I think being a coward is one of them. Clever, I may be. Calculating; I’ll give them that. But I’ve never been a coward. And I wasn’t going to let myself become one. So I headed back home.
“It was a long journey. Kitchi was with me all the way, but I’d left my horse with Doogan. I didn’t think I’d need them as much as I ultimately did. But eventually I ended up back here in Pherae. And the first thing I did was find my father’s bones and burn them to a crisp.” Donovan's voice rang with disgust. Saying those words felt like acid upon his tongue. "I feel like such a monster." He almost whispered those words, like they were more for him than for Mila.
“I didn’t go through half as much as you, Mila. I…” His eyes were leaking, but his face was stone like. “I just… Before I left, everyone kept calling me a hero. Like I was some sort of noble soul who was going to help them beat back the insurmountable beast. But in the end... I was just another unkept promise.”
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Post by Mila on Sept 29, 2019 12:44:43 GMT -6
Mila briefly enjoyed the little interaction that was happening on her lap. The Kitchi was very interested in the little elemental that was inside the jar. And for a moment the elemental just stood there, unsure of what to do with the sudden fuzzy thing so close to it's clear domain. But, then the little elemental regained it's confidence and decided to try and bop the furry fox snout with one of it's own. So it proceeded to ram it's whole body into the wall of the glass right where the fox had it's moist nose. The elemental couldn't do anything to the fox from within the glass domain. But, perhaps the little bit of warmth it's tiny body gave off would be enough to show fox it acknowledged it's presence. And it wanted more. Mila let their interaction last for a moment before returning her hand to Kitchi's head and giving him a scratch behind the ears. Hopefully her hands would be enough of a distraction to keep the fox from showing more potentially destructive curiosity towards the little elemental.
And so Donny began to tell his tale. He told of his adventures outside of the LCO. The little Lycian leauge that he had going. The group that had such potential and hope. Mila was a part of that too. Her hope for the world had dampened since then. She closed her eyes. Stop thinking about the bad things. She pushed the thoughts back. She didn't just spend a crying session with Donny just to have all of it bubble back up in an ugly sort of way. She took another deep breath in and just focused on Donny and his words. He returned to his home town to burn the bones of his father. That was.. something. With all of the undead running around she assumed he didn't want his old man to suffer that fate. The thought about her own parents for a moment. Gone for years now. Their bodies were probably dirt of the earth by now.
"Considering all of the undead that roam around. I think.. you did the right thing." But did he? Mila didn't know. She didn't even know if the undead still had any tangible memories of their former lives once they return. Maybe the freshly dead ones do? But, those that have.. those that are.. literal bones.. with no flesh.. no brains.. for memories to be stored. Perhaps now.
Donny's travels were troubling indeed. Trying to find a lost friend in this world was like finding a needle in a haystack. Especially with things as chaotic as they were. And from the sound of it Donny didn't find that person he was looking for. He also hadn't found a purpose either.
"Heroes." She spoke. Then she thought back to the conversation with Nayru. How the eight heroes.. were heroes to humanity. But.. genocidal monsters to the dragon race.
"...That word is like a double edge sword. In a war.. you are a hero to the side that claims victory. At a horrible cost to the opposition." She shook her head.
"Sorry. Recent.. enlightenment in my travels.. has made me think of the word Hero differently. They.. aren't always benevolent. Not that.. it applies in this case. The monsters.. are literal.. monsters. They aren't people.. who have lost." She shook her head again. Argh!
"But, I kinda get what you mean. That pressure. That hope.. the people have in you. The pride. When.. the village fell.. I.. it.. was a low point. I thought myself a hero too. That I.. was going to do the thing that would save the town from being demolished. But, I failed in that. But.. I.. understand. Donny. I understand."
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Post by Donovan on Oct 1, 2019 15:44:57 GMT -6
Hearing Mila tell him that he did the right thing seemed to slay some part of the lump that had been in Donovan’s throat for the past day that it took him to get to this town. “I knew it was the right thing to do. I mean, of course it was. My dad. All of my troupe. They weren’t warriors or hunters. They only ever lifted a hand to anyone in stage combat,” a barkish laugh jumped from the wayward warrior. “All they ever wanted to do was entertain people. Keep the world a little brighter… I couldn’t stand the idea of their bodies out there, perverted and abused by some evil magic to hurt the people they’d always tried to make laugh.” He nodded, gratefully at the green haired magi, “but I really needed that assurance. Something about it felt so sickening. Even as my head told me it was the right thing to do.”
Donovan chuckled as he watched the two small critters grow more and more curious with each other, Mila’s hands pulled Kitchi away from the glass jar, and the curious fox struggled for a moment before relaxing his entire body in a huff. Donovan cracked his neck and wiped the tears from his face. “People throw that word around too much. Seems to me that every time someone is named a hero, they’re just good at cutting some poor sod to ribbons.”
Donovan’s thumb explored the dragon face of Fragarach’s hilt. “This sword is obsessed with heroes. But it’s got a very Specific view on what a hero is. I couldn’t hope to go into the details. Nor would I ever indulge the bastard sword” (not a bastard sword) “to launch into that particularly lengthy diatribe.” Donovan’s hand scratched at the back of his head. He’d lost his train of thought. “I think if Frag’s standers of Heroism was ever going to be met. It’d be in this dark war to come.”
He reached out and scratched Kitchi’s ear. “Thank you Mila. Thank you for listening.”
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Post by Mila on Oct 1, 2019 19:07:40 GMT -6
"Listening is all i'm good for these days. You are welcome." She joked. But, she was kinda sad at that thought. She wished she could do more to help Donny. She really wished she could just jump back in time and change everything. Or perhaps.. observe everything from the beginning.. then leave clues that wouldn't get destroyed by future events. No.. realistically.. I think i'd do something.. dumb with that too. She closed her eyes. Tears were starting to come back. The more Donny talked about his family.. his troupe.. the more it reminded her of her own family. How long had it been since she last saw them? All of them together? She hadn't seen her adoptive aunt and uncle for at least 3 years. Her other adoptive uncle and cousins? Two years? Not since Grandpa died. And Duma? More than five at this point. Their paths never seem to cross. Then again.. she wasn't exactly actively looking for him. She suddenly realized how painfully distant she had become from everyone in Etruria. Her own family, her former teachers, the families of her old archaeology group, the nurse who helped in her recovery... she lost contact with all of them.
"Great.. now..you got me thinking about my family. I miss them. Ma, Pa, And Gramps died a few years back. My aunt and uncle are still kicking, hopefully. They were drafted into Eturia's war.. I haven't heard anything about them since. No word from my cousin either. Or.. my brother." She bit her lip. How many families were ruined in the destruction of that Village in Tuscana? Stop. Thinking. About. It. Focus.. on something else. She wiped the sadness from her face and focused on the only other thing that she could focus on that wasn't either cute or fuzzy. Time to talk about magic.
"Speaking of Farg.. our uh.. blacksmith friend. Yeah.." She hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath in and then let it out.
"What the hell was that earlier? He.. it.. talking through you? That sort of ability.. is damned near unheard of. And also, permission to get a better look at that blade."
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Post by Donovan on Oct 3, 2019 23:10:34 GMT -6
A pattering against the windowpane signaled the world to the fresh fall of rain. Outside, the Pheraen town was hustling to complete their tasks and get indoors before the workers were drenched and cranky. But inside, the fox and elemental focused intently on each other - curiosity reigning king. Inside a wayward warrior and a somber sage sat side by side. Donovan could only speculate on the fate and welfare of his mother. The rest of his trouper family had scattered to the seven corners of Elibe long ago and he had not the slightest clue where they’d all ended up.
“I do hope Duma is okay… I always liked your brother. He was a good friend.” He scratched his leg and a spot where a small hole had been worn into his pant’s knee. “What was the latest on the war with Etruria? From what I understood, things have calmed down considerably - but information was so sporadic and unpredictable that I couldn’t really rely on any of the drunken old men claiming to be vast sources of intelligence.”
Fragarach’s etched ruins hummed an incredulous green at Mila’s mispronunciation of a nickname it already found demeaning. “Right. That was… interesting, wasn’t it?” Donovan was not entirely sure what had happened either. “Something like that has happened once or twice before… when Fragarach has felt particularly strong emotions in the past… it’s like it can overwrite my mind for a moment. In the past it’s only been long enough to last a word or two. But. I’ve never… given over control before. Before now at least. I guess you could say we’ve grown closer.”
Donovan drew the sword and laid it gently onto the hay stuffed bed. The dark metal was etched with an intricate and beautiful spiraling knotted pattern, a pattern that appeared impervious to time’s wearing touch. The edges of the leafed blade shone bright with its silvered layer. And staring upward at the pair of humans who looked downward upon it, the emerald eyes of the dragon head pommel glimmered in the light of the elemental. Unbeknownst to Donovan, the simple black handle was crafted from the horn of Fragarach’s forger. But so few had examined Dragon horn that it was unlikely anyone who wasn’t one themselves would be able to tell. "So... what do you think?"
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Post by Mila on Oct 15, 2019 18:45:21 GMT -6
"Oh.. right I completely forgot you knew.. er know Duma. I.. don't even remember having that conversation to be honest. It's been so long." She honestly forgot that there was the possibility of other people knowing about her brother. She doesn't like to be too open to the matter. Since, the swordsman in question thinks she died in the cave-in back in Nabata. And rightfully so! She didn't remember how she managed to squeeze her frame into the hole in the wall, and have the rocks not fall on her. Even now years later she still wasn't sure what force was at play that day. Dumb luck? Divine Intervention? Demonic possession?
"Frag.. Frag.. Fragarach.. got to remember the R goes before the A. Sorry to you both." She took a moment to rub her eyes. They were all red and sore. And probably not done crying for one reason or another. She took a moment to just sit there in silence. She her mind absorbed the sweet rhythm of the rain and eventually tuned it out. Although if the rain worsened to thunderstorm then there were going to be some real problems. She looked down at the two creatures on her lap. Her little bouncing elemental friend wasn't sparking uncontrollably so there was a good chance that the rain outside would remain just that. Rain.
She thought back to her experiences with magical weapons. And to the people she's met that have had them. Vincent, Gar, and Donny. She then thought back to the lecture on magical weapons back at the academy. And then back to those taken in Etruria. Magical weapons by themselves were not terribly rare. Any skilled blacksmith can create a magic weapon with the right materials. When created, most don't usually have a personality of their own. Exceptions to that rule exist of course. But, generally, a soul or spirit.. that is something that is crafted over time. The weapon gains.. a will and a life of it's own. That.. was something truly rare and extraordinary. And now that she was thinking about it.. it reminded her of her little elemental. The little creature was nothing more then a glorified candle upon it's creation. But, after a year of.. essentially.. living.. it.. changed. And now.. it was trying to win a battle of stares with a fox. How.. are you even doing that.. you don't have eyes! And so she stayed there like that staring at nothing.. for a while. Until, she remembered, she should probably start talking.
"You know.. full blown possession might be seen as a bad thing." She blurted out. Okay.. where was I going to go with that thought. She paused again.
"I mean." She sighed. Defeated by her own words again. She cleared her throat.
"Bonds between magical weapons and their human counterparts are something special. Like really special. It's something that not universally experienced by all of those who have a magical weapon either. Bonding with a weapon takes time.. and sometimes the owners of said weapon die before that bond even occurs." She stopped.
"You have something that's real unique. And magical in both senses of the word. It's something I will never get to experience because I can't use magical weapons like Fragarach. Cause.. I.. just.. use the magic. I'll probably never have something that can share my own head-space like you and Fragarach do." She paused again. No. That's.. not entirely true. You know what it's like to be swept up by the magic.
"Actually, I kinda do know what you mean. Magic tends to effect a caster's emotional state... when I fought the Baels. There was a moment with Volcannon.. where... I felt like I wanted everything to burn. I felt like fire. Like.. I felt like a full blazing inferno.. and according to the eye witnesses.. I did torch a bael's face with said inferno. I didn't.. realize it then what it was during. But, while I was recovering.. I kinda understood. Fire's kinda greedy it has to be. It's.. always looking for some sort of fuel.. because it doesn't want to die out. At least that's how I processed it." She shrugged.
"Anyway, I.. am not an expert on magical weapons. I can say that a magic weapon flat out possessing it's human to speak.. like it did a moment ago is not exactly common. But, totally not impossible. What I am trying to say is that.. yes.. I agree. You two are terribly close. And I.. think that's a wonderful thing.. and also a tiny bit terrifying." She raised her hand up and made a motion with her thumb and index finger.
"Just a wee bit." She slowly ushered the two beings off of her lap. She put her elemental on the floor. Fortunately, it's new fox friend followed it. It curled itself up onto the floor beside it. She got up an turned around to face the blade at her bed.
"No offense to either of you."
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Post by Donovan on Oct 20, 2019 23:33:53 GMT -6
From what Mila mentioned of her brother, it sounded as though she hadn’t seen him recently either. But then Mila sat staring forward at nothing for long enough that Donovan had begun to wonder if he’d somehow sent her into one of the thought spirals that just twist and spin endlessly as the ramifications of magic weapons developing such symbiotic dynamics with their wielders. Finally. Suddenly. She looked up from her fixed, intense gaze on the elemental and fox, and began to divulge her thoughts.
Donovan laughed heartily at Mila’s “Just a wee bit,” as she stood to study the weapon. Its leafed blade lined with a long, spiraling knot that had been etched in ages ago. The blade horn grip had effortlessly withstood the test of time, but the fading green leather that was wrapped around it, was only a few months old. Donovan had replaced it himself. But the truly ornate piece of the weapon, was the dragon head carved into the pommel, the great lizard’s maw roaring and the bright green emerald glinting in the light of the elemental.
He supposed that people were always afraid of what they didn’t understand. But while Frag wasn’t some holy or divine spirit, Donovan trusted the weapon intensely. It wasn’t good by nature, it was good because it chose to be. Its purpose was straightforward. To protect innocents. But still… “As much as I trust the soul in this old blade - I can’t say I disagree with you. Full blown possession seems…. Dangerous at the very least. But like I said, the only times other than this that anything remotely possessive has ever happened was underwhelmingly brief. A short sentence at the most. From what Frag’s told me of his past, it has seemed like almost all of his previous wielders died fairly early on in their bonding process.”
“I wonder why mages don’t bond with individual spirits in the same way though? Is it really just as simple as the spirit just not sticking around? I’ve seen the effects that a volcannon sword can have on a person. When we fought the Ilian Reaper… it was like his whole purpose was destruction. Who knows how many years he’d held that sword? How much the blade had crept into his mind… The man was a monster. And now that I have Fragarach, it really makes me wonder if there aren’t more people like him out there. Steeped so long in power that they lose themselves to the spirits they carry.”
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Post by Mila on Nov 15, 2019 11:59:37 GMT -6
"I've been told that in the ancient world.. Magic was different. Supposedly, in the era Pre Scouring.. the world was like how it is in Vinland. If you could remember the atmosphere of that place. It was.. so magically charged. Wild. Despite the chaos.. I felt so good there. But something happened after the Scouring.. that caused the magic of the world to be depleted. We are simply using what's left." She mused for a moment.
"And look at how far we've come with just the scraps of magic. Spirits, Souls, Magic.. whatever term you want to use for it. Just look at Frag and my little elemental friend. Both are beings of magic.. stuck in different mediums. One's a righteous old man and the other.. is a little lightning baby. Though.. now that I put some thought into it.. I suppose there may be a mage, shaman, or priest out there who is bound to a specific elemental.. magical.. spirit out there somewhere. With the medium being their very bodies of flesh..." She suddenly looked up, as if her mind had some sort of amazing revelation. The potential answer to a puzzle that had been plaguing her. Dragons are living beings bound to specific elements of magic.. tied to the very fabric of the element itself.. She then shook her head. Now was not the time to think about it.
"Magic is amazing on it's own though. It's.. so versatile. With so many different applications. And each person tied to it gets to experience it in their own way.. It's ancient and ever changing. If I could live forever and read every book on magic out there.. I would still find something new if i practice said magic out in the field." She let out an oddly satisfying sigh. Almost as if a great weight had been lifted off her chest.
"And then there are the drawbacks. Magic for all it's potential.. comes at a cost. Usually fatigue.. sometimes insanity." She was oddly positive with that last bit.
"I'm sorry you had to see that first hand. A soul lost via the power of his magic weapon. And unfortunately I'm sure.. there are more out there like him. Those obsessed with destruction and some don't even have any magic to blame that obsession on." She closed her eyes. She opened them again.
"Alright. Let me see here." Now, Mila was not a curator. She was no expert in ancient things. She couldn't tell what an object was made out of based upon touch or sight. And she couldn't really recognize how old something was based upon sight alone. No, she needed to be taught that. Trained to do that. And while it was true she could do that in the past, she lost the talent for deciphering ancient relics and texts years ago. Living and moving forward with one's own life tends to replace the older memories with newer ones. She reached out for the blade and picked it up by the handle. Slowly. Frag was still encased in it's leather holster. So she used her free hand to pick it up by the protected blade.
She closed her eyes and quietly focused. It was strange. Holding something that was older then herself. Older than what she might live by. She felt a strange pulse in her fingers. Unsure of it was that of her own or that of Frag's own magic. The pulse was both foreign and familiar. Holding a magic weapon.. was different then holding that of a magical book or staff. It.. felt alive. Even though what she was touching was not alive to begin with. She changed her grip. She let the blade rest over the palms of her hands. She opened her eyes and turned to face Donny.
"Frag.. feels like a warm body. My head knows.. it isn't. It's not.. a body of flesh and bone. But.. my.. hands can't tell the difference. I.. was kinda half expecting it to be colder. Like the cold you feel when you've got wet hands and a cool breeze comes by. But, no.. he's a warm fellow. Strong too. Kinda like you Donny." Oh that was cheesy. But, It's making me feel better.
"I'm half tempted to try to channel my own magic with it. And see how that goes. But.. good lord.. I'm so rusty in my wind magic. I might as well be corroded."
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Post by Donovan on Jan 29, 2020 12:19:05 GMT -6
Donovan sat and listened in earnest, as the magi gave him something of a history lesson on magic. He tried to wrap his mind around a world as wild and chaotic as Vinland. Seeped in magic and danger. He wasn’t sure he wanted to live in a world like that. A world so seeped in magic would certainly be turned into a boot on the necks of the weak. Magic is already such a powerful force of corruption in a world “depleted”. But when Mila’s lecture turned hopeful, he felt a surge of inspiration from her enthusiasm. As powerful as it might be, and as much as there are those out there who will inevitably abuse it - there are people out there using magic to create wonderous and beautiful things!
He looked down at the little lightning baby and grinned. A marvel in the truest sense of the word. But it did make him wonder. “What cost did you pay to bring the little guy into the world?” If there was always a cost - what was the cost of creating life? “And as far as Michael goes… Something tells me he wasn’t exactly a hero before his acquisition of that sword. Weapons have a tendency to choose their wielder. Whether it refuses to be held by them - or else just destroys them for being unworthy… I’d have to wager that Michael not being actively excited by the thought of murdering a bunch of people for sport would have disqualified him from using that fire blade.”
A warm body? He thought. Look at that Frag, you’re not a total wet blanket. “I kind of know what you mean - When I hold Frag, it feels more like I’m holding a summer storm. You know the kind that they get in Pherae sometimes? Torrents of rain being whipped around by wind as strong as a hurricane. But both feel warm and inviting on your skin.” Holding Frag made him feel powerful - but it was also… comfortable. Like watching a lightning storm from a patio. He grinned at Mila’s Line. “Well, he and I had to have something in common - otherwise he’d probably have tried to gut me for being so brazenly unheroic.”
And at the mention of Mila channeling Frag with her magic, the sword was propelled out of her hand with a powerful gust of wind. Not the first time that Donovan had seen it happen, but certainly the most sudden. The Sword clattered, flat end smacking into the wall as far from Mila as it could get, before sliding slowly to the floor. “I guess Frag wasn’t exactly a fan of that idea.” Donovan couldn’t help but find himself chuckling.
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Post by Mila on Feb 19, 2020 17:55:33 GMT -6
"Oh.. I paid a few prices to bring this guy into creation. Elemental magic.. is very old. Ancient. And a large chunk of the process to bring one into life has been lost to history. I had to piece together fragments of literature from the library. My vague Delfian memory of the subject.. and a whole lot of.. improvisation. And blood. An important factor in any magic ritual.. usually. The first time i tried. It..the.. rock used as it's body.. exploded. Second time.. I.. nearly set my room on fire." She had a sheepish grin on her face at that. Mila knew that these were.. not exactly the sort of prices Donny meant. But, they were still worth mentioning.
"Third time was the charm. And.. even then. Well.. it wasn't perfect. These guys are.. supposed to be a bit more stable." She gently tapped the glass. The little light in a jar looked up momentarily before returning to it's staring contest with the fox.
"I'll be honest.. I'm not sure what I paid to bring him into being.. but I remember being really tired after the ritual. Though.. I believe we have a sort of mutuality. Possibly parasitism. This little guy can't stray too far away from my person.. other wise it just reverts to it's rocky.. dormant state. As long as I am alive.. it's alive.. we are linked in some way." she made a motion with her hands. An interlocking of fingers to further demonstrate her point, then she shrugged lightly. Then listened to Donny talk about Michael. She wasn't sure what to say about that. If anything really. Some people just want to watch the world burn she guessed. No. She knew. The destruction of Osita was enough proof of that.
"Your experiences with rain are more pleasant than mine. Before the incident... I used to love sitting out in a storm and letting the rain fall all over my skin. Now, I'm a big baby when it comes to thunderbolts and lightning. But, i'm getting better. Don't mind the water." She smiled softly. And it was a this moment Frag decided to go flying out of her hands. Apparently, in disagreement with the idea of using it as a conduit for Mila's own wind magic.
"Frag, I wasn't going to actually do that!" She shouted at it and had a slight pout.
"Apparently, it shares your sense of humor." She paused for a moment. An idea had struck her.
"I.. do want to test something else though. How.. good are you at wielding Frag. Not just as a sword.. but in.. using the more magical aspects of the weapon?"
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Post by Donovan on Mar 5, 2020 17:53:22 GMT -6
Hearing how much danger and risk went into studying magic, Donovan was glad that he’d never picked up the practice for himself. Blood rituals and exploding rocks. He wasn’t your average superstitious commoner, but he still wanted to keep himself far from any new experimental magics, if he could avoid it. “Having a parasitic bond…. Wouldn’t be impossible I guess,” He said, trying to sound confident, before realizing, “It’s a little like how I am with Frag, though, I think. It took awhile for the sword to be able to speak to me at all. It started with a small sort of emotional response. And now look at where we are. I don’t know if Frag’s just shy, or if I was able to sort of… reanimate it, but either way. Maybe there is a correlation.
“There must be some magic weapon forgers out there that you could interview?” His tone was lifted by curiosity. Mila was always so full of that raw wonder and enthusiasm - or at least she used to be. “Maybe they can help you unlock the secrets of Sparky over there.”
He smiled as Mila reminded him of her overwhelming fear. “At least you don’t mind the water.” He burst into laughter as Mila pouted at Frag’s refusal to be an experiment, he hadn’t had this much fun in longer than he could remember. He strolled over and picked up the sword as he mulled Mila’s question in his mind. “Look, you know how important humility is to me. Literally, I am Frag Bearer alive.” Only because the others are dead. Look, I didn’t lie, old man. I am not a man.
"What did you have in mind?" He asked. Curiosity got the better of him. Maybe there were ways he didn't know of to better control the strange, ancient sword.
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Post by Mila on Mar 5, 2020 19:41:58 GMT -6
"Bonding is a beautiful thing. And a strange concept once you sit down and think about it. Two strangers.. human, creature, or magically bonded item... thrust into a relationship with one another.. forced to cooperate for survival.. and then..bam. Suddenly, you can't function with out that other person." She clapped her hands at the word bam. She glossed over Donny for a bit then back at her little flicker of an elemental.
"I humbly accept your quest to gain more knowledge. Honestly, i'm a bit curious about the whole process in how to make a magical weapon.. and now i'm wondering if the same concept can apply to my pet rock." She raised her hand to her chin for a moment and appeared to be in thought. As the gears in her head were turning trying to draw comparisons between making an elemental. A literal spirit of an element tied into physical form via an item.. and a magical weapon. The similarities between the two items were uncanny and she then mentally kicked herself for not thinking about that sooner. Her thought was completely interrupted by the sound of Don's laughter. It was nice to hear him laugh. Even though it was at her expense. She was glad at the thought she could still bring a small spark of joy to someone, given the circumstances of her own personal shortcomings. She found herself smiling a little at the whole thing.
"What do you think I have in mind Don? Duel me." She paused for a moment.
"Magic Duel me." She said it with a bit more excitement in her voice. The sage hadn't had a proper mage's duel in forever. Sure, she had some with the mages and sages in the Academy. But, they were mostly used as demonstration and lecture to the students. She hadn't had a real duel for the sake of dueling in what felt like ages.
"You can't use Frag like a sword. Like... you can't use him to slash my body. But, you could try to hit me with the wind magic it produces. Does that make sense?"
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Post by Donovan on Mar 21, 2020 17:06:27 GMT -6
Bonding is a beautiful thing. On that Mila was right. Finding an equal, a partner never seemed to be planned. It was always something that just happened. A feat of luck that just occurred in the briefest of moments and then would shape the rest of your life. “You know,” Donovan began to smile, “My mom and dad met when his family’s troupe rolled through some Etrurian town that my ma happened to be studying to be a cleric in. She saw his show - he was playing the Pauper in Ilia’s Embrace, if you know the show - but she saw that performance and just decided to leave her life behind. She used to tell me, ‘I wanted adventure. I wanted passion. Love. All things that your father promised, and Etruria shunned.’” Donovan began to laugh then, big uproarous laughter. “The woman was mad! She’d not even met him yet, but she was convinced beyond all else that he would fall in love with her.
“Mad as a fox, though,” he continued, scratching Kitchi behind the ears. “She went up to him after the show, her bag all packed and hidden in a hollow tree on the edge of town… He used to tell me that he’d only played at love until the day he saw her violet eyes…” Kitchi ran his face along Donovan’s outstretched hand. “They did everything together. Bonded beyond belief as you described. He was helpless without her. And she was never quite the same when he died… She was still strong, but… there wasn’t as much light in her eyes. I never saw that light again.”
It had been a long time since he’d talked about his family. But there was something cathartic about it. Remembering and reveling and retelling their story made him feel more at home than returning to Pherae did. He breathed deeply, “But that’s enough about that!” He’d spent so much time thinking about his parents, he needed to do something. Anything else.
“If you want to duel me with only magic, then I’m game, but I feel I should warn you. I cannot win!”
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Post by Mila on Mar 29, 2020 15:57:08 GMT -6
"I think you and I need to sit down and talk about Etruria's truth's and fictions. Etruria loves love! We had a whole section devoted to poets and writers who tried to use their words to woo men and women alike. What it shuns is the excess of love. The country is not full of mindless Saint loving slaves like the propaganda would have you believe." She was secretly starting to hate that people had those assumptions of Etruria. And while she had cast off citizenship status of Etruria for a few years now, she didn't like all of the hate the country's people was getting. Yes. Etruria's army and prophet was bad. And they do awful things. But, it's citizenry were still people. People with emotions, and fears of terrible vengeance from the powers that be. Be those powers earthly like the law of the land under the prophet, or of the divine.
"Aw. Don." She kind of melted a little bit at that little love story.
"That's bittersweet. But, I get it. My parents were like that too. They loved each other right up until their final moments. And... it's been a while since, I've even thought of them. You are really lucky your mom is still around. Can't count all the times I feel like I needed a hug from either of mine. But, that's the way the world is." The conversation then diverted back to magic.
"Contrary to the word, the goal of the duel, isn't to win. It is a means to test your magic with Frag. Exercise with it. To help you hone your bond with Frag and work those magical muscles that you probably don't use. You using me as a sort of.. live training dummy, will help me with my resistance to opposing magic."
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Post by Donovan on Jul 5, 2020 17:56:22 GMT -6
“ I suppose there is a chance that I don’t know much about Etruria aside from what my ma told me. I’m sure there are men and women like her - to love is human, after all. Without love we’re no better than the wights and the dead. Just territorial monsters taking over as much land as we can.” He grimaced in an attempt to grin, “If we could just all band together… there’s a lot more we have in common than what turns us against each other.” He tried to smile, but thinking about what his parents, about his father’s grave… he couldn’t bring himself to feel that happiness, not about them. And something about hearing Mila talk about her mom and dad made it impossible for him to tell her the truth. To correct her. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mila. You’re a really kind person. You know that?”
He took a moment, gathering his thoughts again as they returned to discussing their “Duel”.
“That, actually… sounds like a great idea. Besides, it has a sort of poetic symmetry to it. After all, your brother is the one who taught me how to use a sword properly - it’d be only fair that you be the one to teach me how to wield this magic right. Hell, it’d be absolutely handy practicing with someone I trust. I’ve been having trouble sticking the landing when I launch myself. And wind magic is probably a good thing for you to train against. It’s not as destructive as some of the others, but it’s harder to see coming - it might help increase your reaction time to other spells.”
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