Awake My Soul [Closed]

[Aurelio]

10th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Various people | Theme: History Lesson | Thoughts: Hmm... | Mood: Intrigued.

---

۞ Aurelio day dreamed for a moment at the exhibition as he looked at the various paintings and trinkets; including the artefacts within the glass cases. He was always a curious fellow as he stared over at the items within the Memories in Blood exhibit. Eventually, he realised that the tour guide had left him in the other room. He looked around curiously as he went through the exhibits; one by one as if he had gotten lost for a moment. He looked around confused for a moment. He suddenly turned around and noticed the group heading for a small cavern lit up by dragonshards. He sighed with relief as he followed them over. He was oblivious as he continued to join the others.

He paused as he stopped between Avamande and Charlie. The golden beacon was probably not much to miss since he towered over everyone else with his large height; a common feature of Avialae. He smiled for a moment as he looked forward into the distance. Aurelio stared over at the Mirror for a moment as he heard the faint whistle come through, it wasnt a moment to soon that Aurelio looked around curiously bewildered. Perhaps if he'd had followed earlier instead of getting distracted; he might have learnt something new about the Elysium. Instead, his face was in confusion.

The male followed the tour guide, Boris as they moved onto the next exhibition. The ancient tomes; this was indeed a huge curiousity for Aurelio as he tilts his head "Hmm... Mages of old" He pondered to himself in thought. Yet again, curiousity got the better of him as he peered over the ancient manuscripts and books. It appeared that some appeared to be written in Synskrit, some in other common languages. However, there was one in a language, one which Aurelio didn't understand exactly. Perhaps this particular text was from a foreign source? Who knows.

Aurelio pondered for a moment as he tilted his head "I've noticed most of these books are in Synskrit, but there are also other languages here; can you translate any of this?" He asked, pointing to a scroll with a red strap stamp-like feature upon it as he brought it out to show the curator. He was extra careful with the way he handled it as the paper appeared to be old, cracked and rugged.۞

[Charlie]

Leaving the weapons and armor when called further, Charlie stepped through into a truly impressive array of books. Charlie was an avid reader, though far more interested in copper dreadfuls like The Queen's Edict rather than academic texts. Still, Charlie was quite interested in what these books had to say. As a mage, Charlie could stand to learn much from the wisdom of his elders if ever he just once bothered to listen.

He noticed Odison was lingering near to him, but thought little of it. He regarded them with a disarming smile instead and spoke. "Lovely place, isn't it? It does make you wonder if all witches do their entire lives is write down theories and ideas." That observation was not wholly genuine, as evidenced by Charlie's lighthearted tone and that lopsided smile remaining crooked on his face.

Charlie was standing just a bit too close to one of the glass cases when Boris locked eyes with him, hands equally too near to the pedestal. "Of course, take nothing but memories, or something like that." Charlie said in response to the unsaid accusation, taking a step back from the glass display and letting his hands fall back to his sides. Charlie did then channel a small amount of aether, eyes thrumming with a dull glow. Just for long enough to determine if the tour guide thought him merely a klutz or if there was another reason he had been picked out of the crowd. Seeing the symphony would be enough, and Charlie had no intention of impressing anything on his mind. Not when he was already drawing attention anyway. He was quite enjoying this excursion, and being thrown out would have spoiled the experience for everyone involved.

"Are there any books written by accomplished Mesmers, then?" He asked. He did not know any such mages by name, nor had he looked to see how the library was organized. Perhaps he should have first asked if those who were not being trained within the Circle or Academy were permitted to take notes, but why ask a question if he might not like the answer?

[Mino]

If there was any word that could describe him, curious would be the one. It was curiosity that had brought him this close to the strange man that smelled of the aetheric stench and decay of the Warrens he knew only vaguely and the same curiosity that drew Mino closer. The man’s fixation on the mirror was not something easily missed, even when he managed to murmur an utterance that might imply that he was listening to the lecture given by the tour guide. No; focused was his gaze on the mirror and as Mino asked what he had seen, he saw, too.

But only the end. A great battle concluded without fanfare: the driving of a blade through a heart. The rathari blinked. Not exactly a pleasant memory to summon for others to view, but perhaps the other had not wanted that particular one around him. The air around him soured like something left out too long. On the cusp of going bad, but not quite a hazard to one’s health if they ate it. Days old bread, not yet touched by the green of mold. The faint sound of something cracking filled his ears like the crunch of a moving crate dropped a touch too hard. He winced instinctively, made to draw back as their guide turned his attention to them.

“We've certainly seen something.”

The whistling, coupled with the shared glance; well. He was not one known for his ability to resist the impulse of recklessness. The edge of his smile sharpened just a touch as he fell in stride behind the man. “I don’t think I caught your name.” He extended a hand, smile only partly teeth. “I prefer Mino over Lord Lekivian. Formalities aren’t much my thing.”

He couldn’t care less for any of the tomes within the exhibit, all things considered. Namely: that he couldn’t read any of it. But he could certainly squint down at the pages behind the glass counter like someone who was trying to read without glasses, leaning all too close before righting himself and deciding his attention could be better suited elsewhere.

Their guide chastised a blonde young man who’d also been a touch too close, the remark easily brushed off by the said young man. Mino sniffed, head lilting to the side as he sidled up to him. There wasn’t much difference in height — only an inch! — but Mino had learned to work with the bare minimum. “Thinking of applying a five-finger discount to mesmer’s grimoire?” Entirely teasing, accented by the slight glimmer of mischief in his eyes as the words were said in low tones. “Maybe someone you’re interested in practicing on?”

His gaze slid toward Odison, taking in the strange man for a moment longer. Perhaps not the brightest of ideas had begun to form in his mind, but it was only the seed of it. Just planted as a passing thought he hadn’t paid much attention to. Wouldn’t pay much attention to. He wasn’t supposed to be making trouble, but — trouble could most certainly make itself.

[Avamande]

"Perhaps I will," Avamande replied dryly to Charlie's joke, not that that tone would tell the Mesmer much. After all, they were always dry. If they were noticed or were upset by the almost touch from the man, they made no sign of either, instead focusing intently upon the curator as their questions were answered.

"I must confess my ignorance of Soul Cairns, but fascinating nonetheless. The solution you came upon is most ingenious though, and excellently scaleable." The praise was neither forced nor subdued, for all its stilted delivery. Avamande simply did not care for flattery and was focused upon delivering an honest - and for them, earnest - assessment of the museum's efforts. Though they paused for a moment at the Mirror of Memories, they gave it no particular heed before continuing on.

It was with something almost akin to a spring in their step that they made their way to the Antiquities Library, their ordinarily dour features softening if just a touch at the promise of being in the same room as ancient lore. Where they truly revealed their excitement however was in their questions, the Hytori practically bombarding Boris. "How did the Elysian Halls come by such a vaunted collection? Every book no doubt has its own story, but surely there must be general trends and the like. I assume that these tomes cover the gamut of all the schools and disciplines of magic, but are there any particularly represented - or not - among them? What is the oldest text available to the public? And yes, as he said," they paused just long enough in their torrent of questions to gesture towards Aurelio, "are translation services provided?"

The only thing that seemed to stall their excitement at the entire exhibit was Charlie. "Charles, for my sake at least do restrain yourself from any uncouth activities for at least the duration of this exhibit. I am enjoying myself." It was the closest that they had ever come to admitting such, at least in the scoundrel-slash-tailor's presence.

[Chronicle]

Awake My Soul

Ash 10th, 121 AoS

As the touring crowd followed their guide toward the next destination, Aurelio quickly came out of his daydream spell to follow up with their transition into the next exhibit. The gilded winged Synnekar rejoined the group once more to immerse himself between Avamande and Charlie, standing near Odison as the black-robed man hardly seem attentive of the Avialae's presence. Yet when Aurelio reached at the glass where the shelves were, his hands phased right through the shimmering surface to reveal them as actual negation wards. The 'glass' responded with a ripple from around his hand, before the tome he pulled out lingered before the ward allowed him to fully remove it.

The dark-eyed man near him took notice with a slight widening around them, Odison's intrigue piqued but kept vague as he allowed the Synnekar to investigate the tome in his hand. While he observed the other tomes and the differences in their scripted titles, Charlie took notice of the fact Odison lingered closer to him and Arvamande than everyone else. At the general remark the young fellow made, the dark-eyed man seemed to actually allow a partial smile to tuck at a corner of his lips. "Mages in general are fickle beings," he responded in turn with a low voice, "clinging to what little knowledge they discover themselves. Yet they forget the violent history that always follows where magic takes root..."

The smile had waned and the grim stare in his eyes darkened for a moment, inner thoughts clearly eluded from expression when he took note of Boris. The Hytori briskly focused on Charlie before he continued with his little speech, the remark the young blonde fellow gave enough to merit a couple smiles from the few men around him; save Odison that is. He started to look as though something ailed him now as if the coming of a minor headache stemmed from the side of his temple. When the first of the several questions to arise reached Boris, the Hytori looked to Charlie quickly still with a cheeky grin. "A wide variety of magical disciplines can be found within these shelves," he elaborated with a point of his finger along the rows of books, "quite a few of them do in fact possess knowledge and practices of a few Mesmer's. One that is favored by students of the Circle of Spells a grimoire printed with the mage's name on it."

"What happens to be that name, sir?" A fellow tourist inquired as Charlie soon registered the melodies of the Hytori guide, the first note being a wave of urgency as if an underlying issue bothered the Hytori. If paid attention for longer, Boris's symphony would clearly indicate a minor discomfort in an urge to relieve himself, and the influx of questions from his group was all but distractive enough to annoy him only slightly. Yet if Charlie paid attention long enough to pick up on these little faucets, he would hear another melody that loomed right next to him. A symphony that felt rather warbled and shattered, almost nearly disjointed like it echoed in two places at once. That symphony belonged to none other than the black-robed man, who seemed to ease out of the minor tension he possessed earlier when he focused on Aurelio completely.

Or rather the book the Avialae inspected. While Mino teased Charlie in regards to the selection of magical tomes to peruse, Odison genuinely lifted a hand up to offer to take the book from Aurelio. As the question he had came to be heard Boris's attention shifted from those within the library he'd been trying to assist, having not expected such frivolous curiosity with the rest of the folk that explored the exhibit as well. "We have historians within the Antiquities Society that toil day and night to copy and translate as many of these works as they can! I'm not surprised you've noticed the Synksrit on the one you're observing, sir, I will say that while a vast majority of the tomes we have do seem based here in Kalzasi, our collection does have other works that are clearly of different origin."

Then came the excitement in Arvamande's tone, which clearly caught Boris off guard, as the fellow Hytori smiled nervously to his customer before answering yet again. "An avid scholar I see?! Well sir, our collection is the product of generous donations from members within the Society, as well as other outside sources that have provided their own contributions. Some are considerably heirlooms the owners wished to keep preserved, which is why we do our best here at the museum to keep all our collected tomes stored safely for public viewing." The Hytori's eyebrows did a fair bit of rising and shifting in response to the questions hailed his way, but as the tour guide listened intently, he did his very best to also answer each question a bit more thoroughly. "Our collection encompasses most of the magics one may find out there, from the Cardinal Runes of personal magic to the machinations of world magic, save for the rare and invaluable tomes that would be deemed inappropriate by the Circle."

"The Circle regulates what tomes you put on display?" The same man who inquired about the Mesmer tome earlier chimed in, leading Boris to crack another glib smile.

"Not everything sir, only the articles that are deemed more dangerous. For starters, one won't find much on affliction, due to the risks it would pose on someone unsupervised. That doesn't mean our collection isn't dismal in comparison to the Circle's, but I certainly wouldn't expect to find a tome of greater knowledge within the shelves either. As for the oldest texts we have available..."

"Vallenor." Odison named as he had already moved on to another tome, having already moved on from the one Aurelio may have or not allowed him to inspect. "I'd recognize this scripture anywhere." The man in the black robe murmured with an all-knowing grin, having not forgotten the fact he knew someone who spoke it nearly every other sentence.

"Well sir, I'd be impressed if you could decipher a tome from our collection!" Boris remarked with a hearty chuckle, ableit he seemed thrown off as though he'd never noticed Odison before.

"Oh that would take some time. I can tell though that the author of this particular tome was an Artificer, maybe perhaps one that dabbled with a bit of Necromancy as well." As he admired the page he'd turned to Odison beheld a look of utter fascination, the seed of an idea planted in his mind as he came to finally close the book and return in to the shelf. Though his eyes lingered on it as Boris addressed the remaining questions that were left, the tour was about ready to move on once more as the next part of the exhibit would come soon. As the attention would gradually shift toward the exit of the Archives, the whistle that even Aurelio managed to pick up on seemed to resume, only for Mino it was more of a low-grade ringing that steadily increased the closer they drew to the next exhibit.

"Speech" "Odison" "Odison"

!	Message from: Chronicle
	Depending on how quickly every gets their next post out, I intend to post by 10 pm CST on Dec 24; or earlier if everyone manages to get in at least one post before then.

[Charlie]

"Yes, people can get quite testy around magic." Charlie responded knowingly. Even at his limited level of skill, there were people that viewed his impressions on their mind as 'intrusions' or 'unwelcome' or 'unnatural', but what did they know? "Still, if these arch-wizards are spending their days compiling tomes that's less time they can be causing trouble, so I guess both the magical and mundane populace alike should be glad for their continued efforts."

The sensation of the man's symphony was unlike any other Charlie had heard. Of course every symphony was unique, but it was rare to find one that was so dissimilar to others. It was almost normal at first, but he could hear the slightest trill coming from elsewhere. The more he focused on it, and the more aether he channeled, the easier it was for Charlie to at least find the source. Knowing that the melody was coming from the black robed man beside him did little to explain matters, but it did pique the young man's curiosity. Anything that made Charlie curious that was not either valuable or desirable was rare indeed, but he kept the question to himself for now.

No, for now Charlie focused on Mino, smiling that charming grin at him. "I am no thief." Charlie said, though his eyes twinkled just a tad too much for that to tell the whole story. "Besides, books aren't half as fun as learning the old fashioned way, right?" Charlie replied similarly quietly. His eyes were still glowing dimly in the light, giving him away that he had already been using his magic liberally up until now. "If you know anyone that's interested in that sort of thing, of course."

Then he looked back to Avamande, and did look momentarily apologetic. "Me, cause trouble? My friend, I'm hardly the type!" He could not keep a straight face for long though. "I'll try to draw less attention, but I just can't help how radiant I am."

[Avamande]

The Hytori mage's interest was raised by the negation wards protecting the object of Aurelio's desire. Such was clearly delicate work, and clearly no expense was spared to protect the museum's collection. Then again, considering Odison's ominous comments that was perhaps a good thing. As much as Avamande wanted to dispute the strange man's words, he frankly could not. "It is said that this is why Keela sent her monks the Rune of Negation, so that man was not harmed by such reckless of magic. Perhaps the merciful one's grace will see to the end of such cyclical horrors."

Boris at least raised the mood back again, even the unflappable Avamande having to admit that Odison was something of a downer. "More... aspiring than avid, but I am quite impressed by the collection you have on display, yes. It is reassuring to know that so many are so generous to the Society. I suppose I had best become fluent in Synskrit if I wish to begin making a study of the collection however." And apparently Vallenor, if the strange man's comments were correct. They were always somewhat upset by the fact that they only knew Common and Mythrasi anyway so further motivation could never hurt.

Odison again stole the show with his statements on the tome, Avamande's eyes widening in surprise - a great reaction for them. Semblance, perhaps? "You seem to know much," they said blandly to the man, unsure how deeply to question him. "And manage to draw even more attention than Charles," they added with a wisp of a hint of a smile. Turning their attention solely to their friend, they regarded the Mesmer coolly. "And yet trouble always does seem to find you. Most unfortunate, that. Hopefully whatever ill fate follows you will one day depart?" Two jokes in one day. Would wonders never cease?

[Mino]

While his immediate attention may have left Odinson, the conscious thought him had not wavered. A curiosity that burned too bright to be ignored lingered in his mind as he chuckled at the Mesmer’s playful reply. A knowing sort of sparkle to his eyes. “No man would openly admit to such things, but you could also consider it…borrowing, if you will. With an indeterminate date of return.” An easy manipulation to allow, words honeyed and made all the more charming by the tilt of his head.

His gaze flicked over to the tall elf that seemed to know the Mesmer well enough. Joked with him — if it could be called that. The rathari slid an arm over his new mage companion’s shoulder, occupying a space that was decidedly personal with ease. Fingers turned the other to face him, eyes almost apologetic. Almost. “Apologies! Most refer to me as trouble, in a certain sense of the word, and I think I would hate to depart from your company.” More charming words uttered with the edge of a purr — that, this close, Charlie could practically feel — as he turned a grin over to Avamande. A not-too-subtle wink offered up to follow before the cat let his fingers drape easily by the hollow of his throat.

“You…seem stressed.” An observation made jokingly — there in his tone as he leaned a little too heavily on Charlie. He offered up a hand, turning it palm up. It would reveal digits partway through a shift, long fingers with just the start of fur rising over them. And at the tips — the soft brush of paw pads. His palm would be much the same as he wiggled his fingers in the elf’s direction. “Have a squish; I find it quite calming, myself.”

There was a subtle ringing in his ears that had, at first, started as no more than an annoyance. But the louder it got, the less pleased he was with the sound. A tightening to his smile ensued as he gave Charlie a hair’s breadth of space. It was coming from neither of the men closest to him, and thus his attention went first to Odinson. Then the golden-winged Avialae when he couldn’t determine who was the source of the noise.

Just as closely as he had come to Charlie and Avamande, was just as distantly as he became. Flitting easily away with a pat to the Mesmer’s cheek, a pointed glance in the direction of his new destination. Still, the ringing lingered, worsened as he sought to distract himself.

“Is it just me, or is it getting awfully loud in here?” Said as he approached Odinson, a curious side-eye sent to the black-robed man.

[Aurelio]

10th Ash, Year 121, A.O.S
Company: Various people | Theme: History Lesson | Thoughts: Hmm... | Mood: Intrigued.

---

۞ As Boris spoke about the collection, Aurelio felt an unnerving presence from the other man, it was questionable weither or not he wanted to be around him. He side-eyed the mage that took an interest in the collection of objects; he was Hytori, similar to him. Only he didn't bare the big clunky wings and the tall stature that they had. It was a lucky blessing he didn't have to duck every time he went through a door way. Why couldn't they made doors for taller people? Perhaps for the simplest reason. Human supremacy? Who knew. The strange man's words appeared to be somewhat of truth, he did not question it, but yet again, he could sense that there was tension between the darkened man and the Hytori. He prefered to keep out of scwabbles between peers, colleagues or whatever they were. Still, Aurelio's interest was peaked for a moment by the language it was written in. Vallenor. A language so ancient. Could he understand it? If so, what would that mean.

"Well, I do know Synskrit, perhaps I could help translate most of it." He offered the Hytori mage. It seemed that he wanted to help, not that he had much of a purpose in Kalzasi anyway, other than becoming a Slayer. It had been time to delve himself in some other interests. The young Avialae did seem to be keen on learning, yet there was a sudden distraction along his end as he appeared to be confounded with the dark mage ahead. He couldn't help but feel a strange feeling of dread within him, that he prefered to keep himself to himself at times. He eyed the strange looking mesmer, who appeared to be radiantly glowing. It was eccentric, fun. It made Aurelio chuckle somewhat, however he composed himself. Poise and stoic as he took a deep breath, before eyeing the Rathari with suspicion. The way that the dark cloaked man would gesture to him would have him brimming with suspicion. Yet, he did not feel the need to get involved.

For now, it seemed like an innocent walk around the museum. A chance to explore the history of Kalzasi. That's what Aurelio came here for. To understand his culture better. ۞

[Chronicle]

Awake My Soul

Ash 10th, 121 AoS

As they were approaching the exhibit Odison's demeanor changed, as Mino inquired to him no less, when a noticeable whistle had becoming a sharp low-grade whine for the Rathari. "It's here..." Raw excitement seemed to brim in his dark eyes, as though whatever Mino heard was a siren's lullaby to the black mage. Though muttered lowly, Odison looked to the cat intensely, with a brief smirk before he walked along near the Boris the guide. The group was led within the next corridor of the exhibit, where they entered a room with four minor skeletal remains of dragons. While the tour group was meant to stop there, however, one person strode past the guide and further within the exhibit.

Though Boris gleamed suspicion at seeing Odison continue onward, there was nothing that didn't allow others to explore part of the exhibits themselves. Thus, the tour guide continued with his speech discussing the skeletal remains, highlighting their history and how they would've appeared in the past. It was also noon, and yet Odison couldn't help but walk further into the next part of the exhibit, where the artifacts and unusual oddities that were encased seemed more oriented within this realm of existence. The black mage passed all the wonders that one could behold, and all for one single thing, that which sung to him so clearly now.

Within the glass-encased shelves were wonders from across the planes of the Aetherium, but when Odison approached the mundane collection of weaponry and artifacts, he had found the one thing he had come here for. Those who followed him would feel that the room grew a little dimmer, as though the light of the lanterns weakened a little. "At last." Before him where the eerie whine felt stronger than before. Within the glass case before him were shards of weaponry, fragments of staves and swords, actual tattered shields; all with their residual runes faintly glowing. His dark eyes fixed on the one shard in particular, the obsidian shard within the fragment of blades.

"I could wait no longer." Odison admitted to himself as he apprehensively held his hand over the case. It was so close to him now, so maddeningly there in front of him and yet... He could not cause a scene. "Oh, how I've looked all over for you..." Though he spoke low Odison's tone sounded hopeful now, as though if he had found something so familiar and dear to him. The only question was, how on Ailizane was he going to retrieve it? If he hadn't a reason to keep his presence in Kalzasi to a minimum, then he wouldn't have pondered the situation.

The runes that kept the glass containers safe would've been easy to spoil and corrode away, yet, for the sake of the one he promised to serve here he wouldn't go to such extreme lengths. Besides... there were others who could've easily helped him attain it. They, after all, likely had far more capable hands than he did. "You," he looked to the ones that followed him here, "you can help me. Help this piece come back to me!" He might've been more suggestive of the request rather than actually making it one, his dark eyes appraising each one of them curiously as he waited to see who might volunteer.

"Speech" "Odison" "Odison"