Circle of Power [Open Prompt]

[Avamande]

A U X • A R M E S • C I T O Y E N S

Searing 6, 122 Age of Steel

Only fools forsook magic in its entirety, the power it granted its practitioners was so pivotal that even the most zealous adherents of New Atheism were forced to respect it. Despite the formal censure of all things arcane, Zaichaer made no secrets that it employed mages within its Order of Reconciliation, though often specialists in Negation. It was a bitter irony to those who despised the supernatural that it was with magic that they fought magic.

For Kalzasi, it was a practical problem that they had must needs overcome. Their magical might was their greatest asset in the war against Zaichaer, and every Negation mage that fought against them was a potent foe far worse than any rifle or airship. So it was that the call had gone out for a force to be raised from among the Circle of Spells and the Battlemages of the Sky Guard to strike a blow to cripple the Order's forces in theater prior to a general offensive, so that the greatest defense against them could be removed.

While Avamande belonged to neither organization, and frankly did not consider themselves to be particularly patriotic, they were both Kalzasern and a mage. Still feeling the pains of their recent initiation into Kinetics, they had nonetheless volunteered to join the expedition south. It was no love for their city, nor righteous vengeance for their Shokaze, nor desire to see their Prince returned that motivated them. They had arrived at the staging grounds for no other reason than that Zaichaer must not achieve dominance over the Northlands. For months they had poured materiel into the war effort and seen no difference, and now they were prepared to take the last step into joining the conflict in truth.

A seasoned battlemage had been assigned lead of the expedition, a daughter of a high house who had refused to have her lack of wings deter her from serving her homeland. Under her command was a truly motley band, a small core of Sky Guard surrounded by a sea of Circle mages adorned in all three robes, rounded out by a smattering of civilian volunteers such as Avamande. The plan was simple. Aerial reconnaissance had noticed a massing of Order members separate from the main Zaichaeri camp. A lightning strike against them would see the bulk of their power in the region broken, and ideally the full force of the Sky Guard would have succeeded in pressing south before they could reform.

The assembled mages were divided by their Runes and aptitudes, the command staff paying special attention to Traversion mages and those who would be able to take the enemy unawares, or attack by unconsidered angles. Negation and Abjinurium were to be expected, and so any method to circumvent their wards was highly prized.

[Charlie]

Charlie had been 'encouraged' to join the war effort after word had spread of his skill with the Mesmer rune. While often viewed merely as a tool for espionage or political posturing, Mesmer could turn the tide of battle when properly directed. It lacked the destructive oomph of other schools, but in that lay its power. Locating a Mesmer in the heat of battle was often difficult, as they looked no different from any other soldier while weaving their magics both between their own forces and those of the enemy. Charlie, of course, hoped he wouldn't have to use his magic at all on this excursion. To do so would mean getting in close to rival mages that by all rights wanted him dead. There was little hope of that though. Those separating the mages by aptitude had noticed the monumental potential swirling around his aura when viewed with Semblance.

Then of course came the questions about his specific brand of mind-magic. When he had begrudgingly revealed that he could connect link minds as one, his fate was sealed as an important piece of the puzzle. Communication in skirmishes was key, and Charlie had just signed himself up to be a glorified radio. In retrospect he should have used his abilities then and there to avoid any real responsibilities, but it was too late for that.

In order to keep Charlie from overstepping, it was decided that he should only link his mind to first to the battlemage in charge of the expedition. From there it was a matter of choosing only those who could benefit the most from having immediate access to orders. This made Negation mages a natural choice, as a well timed ward could render an entire assault impotent. The Mesmer was given some freedom for choosing the right people for the task, as he had managed to convince his leadership that it was difficult to work with an 'unsuitable' mind. Thankfully, Charlie knew just the Hytori for the job. One who would remain calm and collected under pressure, and also didn't seem to hate Charlie.

Charlie trotted up behind Avamande. "Didn't expect to see you here!" He said, all smiles. "All the better you are, though. I've got something I think you'll like."

After explaining his prior conversation with the head battlemage, Charlie brought his hands together in a single clap. "So that's where you come in. We link up, can hear each other's thoughts, and we take this whole thing from there. Link up with a couple other people if we gotta, but it'll be a cakewalk between the three of us."

[Avamande]

"Charles," Avamande said, as warmly as they ever said anything. Upon reviewing the plan, they found themselves nodding in agreement, to the bemusement of the battlemage in charge of the operation. She was either sufficiently powerful to block out Charlie's magics, or the man had elected to not attempt to influence her in a rare bit of good sense. The Hytori could not tell which, and decided that ultimately it did not matter. What did matter was that they had a plan of attack, and the incorrigible rastabout actually had a rather celver ploy by which to make himself useful for the war effort whether he liked it or not.

"You trust him then?" the head battlemage asked Avamande, arching her brow.

That was a curious question, with an array of potential answers. If they were the joking sort they would have replied that they trusted Charlie about as far as they could throw him, but that was actually quite a sizable distance these days. Instead, they selected a far more carefully constructed response. "I trust that Charles shall endeavor to make the conflict as quick and painless as possible." This was by and large because Avamande trusted the Mesmer to get out of danger, but there was no point in spelling out the obvious.

"Good enough," the Sky Guard officer said after pursing her lips, the woman shaking her head as she thought it over one last time. "How far apart can you link Symphonies?" she asked Charlie, not even waiting for his reply before carrying on. "The plan is simple. With you coordinating, we'll move a small team under Masquerade and Negation cover right to their camp, then open portals to fall upon them en masse before they can raise a defense. Odds are like as not they'll have Negation sentries posted to prevent exactly that, so we'll have to evade them, take them quietly, or move so fast it doesn't matter."

[Charlie]

Charlie couldn't keep a straight face when Avamande gave their measure of him, his lips again pulling into a grin. Truthfully, Avamande's findings were about the best Charlie could have hoped for, and he knew it. Yes, Charlie was cunning and crafty, but even his own inflated ego couldn't agree with the notion of being entirely trustworthy. Such were the ways of many who walked the path of Mesmer. Why worry about being trustworthy when he could simply make himself appear as such to someone with a single glance?

"I need eye contact to set it up, but after that it'll last until I break it off." Charlie explained, not seeming to notice or mind that he'd been cut off. "It'll be sorta disorienting at first, but you get used to it." Charlie added. While he did not often have a plan, Charlie certainly had a running list of things he wanted to avoid, and so he did his best to keep the plan from falling apart. "We should get the rest of the team ready while I set up the Symphony, I think?" It took Charlie a few seconds before he realized that sounded an awful lot like trying to give orders to the battlemage. and he rushed to correct himself. "-Just because it can take a few minutes to sort out all the thoughts, and I don't want them waiting on us!" He quickly added, talking so fast the words almost fell over one another.


Then Charlie considered the negation sentries. It was unlikely they would have wards set against Mesmer, it was an exertion of aether not often worth the effort, especially for a sentry. "If they spot us, I can Silence them. If I keep my eyes on 'em and they look at me, it's over. Could even have them turn any wards they've got against their own." Charlie spoke a bit too casually about the idea for it to have been the first time he'd used a mage's own power against them. "Not the main plan, but a good backup if we're backed into a corner, is all." Charlie tried to downplay his potential involvement of course, but he had just admitted outright to using a technique only a master of mind-magic could have possibly utilized.

[Avamande]

With Charlie's assistance secured, and knowledge of his limits and capabilities known, there was a brief shuffling amongst the assembled mages to round out their strike force. Two more were chosen, a female Siltori Illusionist and a male Avialae Reaver. The former would work hand in hand with Avamande to cover their approach, while the latter was... Well, there were very few alternative uses for a Reaver. The head battlemage herself sported multiple Runes, but was a premier Elementalist whose Arche was Air.

The force formed a circle around Charlie, each making sure to make eye contact with the Mesmer. None were particularly keen on linking their minds with the man, but with Avamande's assurances of if not professionalism, then at least self preservation, they were willing to go through with it for the sake of the mission. Still, the fact that he had casually revealed that he was a master of the mind magic put everyone - even Avamande - on edge.

"Get on with it," the battlemage ordered, clearly uncomfortable but wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. The fact that they would also score a victory over Zaichaer was, at this point, quite secondary. "One last time. Avamande will block sound from around us while Shalcrys covers our approach with an illusion. I'll do what I can with the air to further conceal our approach, but I'll be scanning the area with Semblance. If we get into a fight, for the love of the gods stay behind Hikrau, he has the magic swords for a reason."

"Helena, you worry too much, we'll be fine. Especially with all of us looking through your eyes," the Siltori said with a roll of her eyes, before remembering that she had to try and keep eye contact with Charlie for the ritual to work. "Well, magic, whatever."

[Charlie]

Charlie listened, but for the most part he was keen on letting everyone else handle everything else. They looked confident, and a passing glance at their Symphonies was enough to convince Charlie his wellbeing was in good hands. Good enough, anyway! Besides, it was not necessary for Charlie himself to commit any of this to memory. He was about to share a mind with four other people, and he'd hate to double up on homework.

Instead, Charlie simply began channeling aether. He closed his eyes, but otherwise he didn't appear to be doing much of anything at all. Mesmer wasn't a terribly flashy rune, so all of his weaving was going unnoticed by all but the battlemage with Semblance. He drew aether in, pulling it down in great pools and drawing it into an empty thoughtvessel about a meter wide

It looked almost like a jellyfish, a great half-circle top and five tendrils made from spiraling cords of pure fantasia.

Charlie opened his eyes, and great motes of inmost light blazed a halo around his irises.

He locked eyes with the battlemage first, and the thoughtvessel lashed out with one of its tendrils, striking her right in the left temple. Without waiting, Charlie swept his gaze across the rest of the group, locking eyes with each of them over the span of a second, with Avamande being last. Each time eye contact was registered, the thoughtvessel lurched into action and briefly derailed their symphonies entirely as it sluiced their very essence into itself.

Thoughts jumbled and mixed, identities tumbling over one another in utter uncertainty. Embarrassing memories once unlived now sprung to mind as if firsthand and fresh. Sights, sounds and sensations coalesced, but without distinction between present and past.

For a desperate few moments, there was no 'Charlie', 'Avamande' or anyone else, replaced instead by a slurry of selves drowning under everything they had been.

Then Charlie connected his mind to the thoughtvessel, and at once the thoughts jolted back like lightning to their respective owners, directed by the blueprints he'd made of their symphonies in the moments before the procedure. Everything was once again viewed with only one set of eyes, and heard with only one set of ears, but still something had changed. Perceptions on the periphery, like movement out the corner of the eye. By shifting or expanding focus, one could hear what the others heard, think as they thought, or even interject their own thoughts directly into the symphony all with the help of Charlie's aether.

I know, I know, I know, I know! I should have warned you, but can you imagine if I went one by one and you saw each person going through that?

Just as easygoing and lighthearted as before, Charlie made his mental presence known while standing proudly before them with his palms turned up and an apologetic smile on his face.

Oh joy, he was inside their heads.

[Avamande]

Five minds became one, and for a shining moment the walls of their souls were thrown down, and their hearts intermingled. Each touched upon the other in a moment of supreme vulnerability, greeting the deepest and most fundamental depiction of themselves and each other. No secrets could be held from such a union - but each person owns their own secret shames that seem impossible to live down if the truth ever came out that all others found trivial in comparison to the great weight that their owners placed upon them.

No truer example of this was Avamande, the typically stern Hytori now looking like they were an inch away from murdering someone after the collective mind's eye discovered a hidden memory of a giggling elf child. The walls snapped up as soon as they may, Avamande's practically radiating menace at the thought of what had been displayed to one and all.

I am displeased, Charles, is the only rebuke that the Mesmer received for his sudden tying of their minds, Avamande's cold fury pouring through the mental link like ice water. But all appears in order. We may begin the assault when ready.

Thinking that was superfluous, everyone involved knew everything now, the flow of intent and feeling shared between all five members of the strike team. Still, the habit of vocalization and conscious consent was an ingrained one, and thinking it was still far more efficient than having to actually say it. Fanning out, Avamande and Shalcrys weaving their spells as they did, they moved with the unnatural coordination of a beast too many limbs, more in sync than even the most trained of units.

When the spells were finished, the five simply vanished, Helena working to dull their communal signature with Semblance as best she could. They were hidden from almost every form of detection one could think of, save perhaps divine intervention, sough and sight and smell all warded from the outside world. They were as ready as they would ever be, and began the long trek across the no man's land separating the two encampments.

[Charlie]

Oh come on, it wasn't that bad! Charlie sent back, still apologetic despite his professed innocence. He really didn't understand what had gotten under Avamande's skin, he hadn't even see anything embarrassing from the elf. Unless of course, the giggling elf child was something meant to stay hidden? But that was so... normal! Compared to the fleeting images of Charlie striking out with all manner of women, Avamande's memories were downright endearing.


These thoughts, of course, were shared with Avamande, though they were easily ignored in the deluge of new perspectives. Charlie was used to this new influx of information, and was perhaps better suited to it because the lack of complex thoughts running through his own head left inordinate room for others. Or maybe Charlie was more clever than he appeared, but far more likely it was the first thing.

As the others weaved their spells, Charlie remained out of their way. With their presence masked, Charlie followed the others and trudged through no man's land with the others.

His discomfort was obvious. Charlie was never the rugged type. That his feet ached was the least of their worries as they grew nearer to the camp, and through Helena, the collective was able to spot active wards lining the most direct path towards the Zaichaeri camp. They were flat, quadrilateral wards, and in such number that there must have been multiple sentries working to maintain them. While some of the others thought of this as a roadblock, Charlie of course saw the bright side. If so many mages were working to protect the perimeter, then they had to be skimping elsewhere. They just needed to get past.

None of the sentries were visible though. That presented something of a problem. It was nothing Charlie couldn't fix, though. Of course, Charlie rarely thought something was beyond him, and that confidence was even more infectious now that he was sharing a mind with saner people than himself.

I've got a plan! Charlie thought, dangerous coming from him. We lure one out, and I'll silence them like I told ya. It'll drop any wards they placed, and we slip right past.

[Avamande]

Avamande's focus was entirely upon the mission at hand, to the point of excluding almost any other thought. Such single track thinking was infectious across their shared link, and even with Charlie's discomfort radiating throughout the mesh of minds the group of five moved as one. Their unnatural coordination was more reflex than anything conscious, each moving precisely where they ought with the same casual ease with which one does not tangle themself up in their own legs.

Charlie's plan was agreed upon almost as soon as it was thought, the conjoined thoughts of the mages mulling it over for only a moment before concurring with their fifth member. A general sense of affirmation flooded through them as they collectively peered through Helena's Semblance, attempting to trace wards back to their casters. With the change in plans came a concurrent change in focus, the Augur shifting her tact to instead find the weakest of the wards. Gods willing, that would belong to the most junior Reconciliator present on this part of the patrol grid.

Their target acquired, a lattice of shield that bore the hallmarks of one new to the Rune of Negation, at least according to Avamande, they baited their trap. The Hytori and Siltori mages subtly altered their weaves as they approached, intentionally introducing a measure of sloppiness. Illusions that were not properly melding with their environment, muffled footsteps escaping the sound dampening ward.

It worked.

Within moments, a cry came from up ahead, the excited voice so common of young soldiers throughout history. "Something's off in that copse, I'm going to check it out!" From further off, a grunt of acknowledgement was heard - from the mage's superior, the collective decided - but only one set of footsteps approached the strike force. So far, so good.

[Charlie]

Charlie's calm washed through the collective. Calm was an easy emotion to override though, as its most notable feature was the absence of others. Charlie's heart didn't race, he wasn't formulating contingencies for contingencies, and in fact the most pressing thought in his mind was simply how much he wanted to get his over with because his feet were starting to hurt. He stood in a relaxed posture, though admittedly behind the four far more battle-capable mages, and simply waited for the enemy soldier to get close enough to the group.

He was a young man with dark hair, green eyes, and a grass-stained black uniform a size too large for him. When Charlie locked eyes with him, the collective bloomed with new information. The man, whose name Charlie quickly learned to be Peter, was a model Zaichaeri for good and ill. Proud, eager to serve, and loyal, but also xenophobic and racist with some very eyebrow-raising thoughts about elves in particular. Charlie didn't delve too deep into those thoughts out of respect for Avamande. Besides, poor Peter wasn't going to be thinking much of anything in the next few seconds, so there was little on his mind that Charlie felt was worth preserving.

It happened in an instant. Charlie drew in aether, formed it into a smothering void, and cast it over the Zaichaeri's symphony. All that Peter had been, every joy and pain, every hope and dream, every embarrassing moment and triumphant victory ceased to be. Peter thought nothing and remembered just the same. Once a symphony flawed and varied as any other, now there was but silence for all to hear.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks, blank eyes staring past Charlie and the collective still in their hiding place. Then Charlie poured aether into the now empty vessel, and gave the Zaichaeri mage but a simple set of instructions to follow. 'Lower your wards, and spread this impetus onto any that find you'. With such guidance, Charlie's silencing would lurch from mage to mage via eye contact, infecting them with singular purpose that could only be undone by a Mesmer of Charlie's own skill.

A few of the great wards protecting the path forward dissolved into motes of raw aether, and Charlie looked back to the collective, too relaxed for someone who had just resigned someone to such a cruel fate.

Well, Let's go!

And Charlie trotted up to the front of the collective now and led the way in high spirits through the sudden lapse in the camp's defenses.