60th of Searing, 122 AS
Nightfall brought with it darkness and shadow... but also unease and uncertainty. The happenings of the last few weeks were like a gaping wound in the souls of the people of Zaichaer, still bleeding and infection likely to set in should nothing be done. Anguish, pain, torment, despair. These and more were carried on the winds to Lyrielle as she traveled the broken city streets toward her destination. The crater where once stood the Presidium.
Black smoke flowed around her as Lyrielle hovered over the gaping hole in the center of the city. Though the mists no longer poured from the large rift in the air above, what remained on the ground still continued to persist and cause chaos for those who wandered within it. White mist fell like waterfalls into the crater itself, flowing down through the layers of the Warrens... down to the land that she now claimed as her own. Her territory. Her Dark Demesne. There was some level of remorse in her soul over those lost... but that brief glimmer of empathy was overshadowed by a larger, and far stronger feeling. Triumph. Exaltation.
A smile spread as Lyrielle looked down on her work. The symphonies of pain and desolation a sweet accompaniment with the rhythms of her own heart and soul. From pain and fear grew strength and resolve. Just as she were broken and made anew, this city too would be rebuilt into something more. This thought brought the elf back to her original purpose, and she closed her eyes and thought over the next steps.
She had been tasked with the impossible. To contain the dread mists once the rift began to expel them once more. Looking up Lyrielle once more wished she could simply move the rift downward into her own lands. There was much she could do with such power readily at her disposal... but such was impossible for her. Instead she would need to contain the chaos, but the one known as Franky had only specified that the surface be shielded, which made the already present smile widen further.
Thanks to the efforts of Franky, and the covens who assisted Lyra when preparing for the day of destruction, the groundwork for the next effort had already been set. Even as she floated idly above the city the witches of the covens were working, collecting the nodes she had prepared across the city and bringing them to the Crater. With a wave of her hand Lyrielle extended her tendrils of smoke outward and hovered up higher into the air, looking down on the city as she carefully guided the smoke to form shapes, twisting and turning until they solidified into the form of a large schema which covered the entire field of view over the center of the city. As she examined the creation Lyrielle made some alterations, adjustments here and there until everything was as she desired.
"At times a complex solution is called for, while at others the situation demands a simpler one." the elf mused, still looking down on the city, "Closing the rift is not possible for now, but isolating it so that no mists escape is equally difficult. Thus a sacrifice is required."
In her minds eye Lyrielle turned the schema over and over again, making adjustments as she imagined its purpose being enacted. Even she did not believe it simple to stop the onslaught of the dread mists with magic, even with the skill she had at her disposal. The chaotic nature of the mists would make most forms of containment fail given enough time, and if the tide could not be cut off from the rift then eventually the container would be overwhelmed and shattered. So instead the energies would be redirected, allowed to flow downward through the Warrens and into her own seat of power where it would be collected and steadily refined. In the end it would serve the purpose of protecting the city as she had been tasked, but would also provide Lyrielle with a resource for her work.
*****
66th of Searing, 122 AS
"Place the stones at least 20 meters back from the edge of the Crater." Lyra said to the robed men and women who carried dark red stones, each the size of a person's head, toward the center of the city. She had been steadily guiding the process of forming the parameter scrivening diagram for the last 6 days, a process which was as tedious as it was frustrating. The Coven Witches were curious in nature, talented certainly, but after years of suppression they were liked starved wolves who had caught the sent of a lone deer. Men and women, young and old had begun to come to her to ask questions, make inquiries and suggestions, and no matter how often she shut down their antics it seemed their intellectual curiosity was insatiable.
"Are you certain this is right? This collection point seems better suited for ---"
"I think the power should be routed south instead of north, around the bend of ---"
"Why are you using this element to cross the gap between ---"
"Enough." Lyra growled, eyes flashing in annoyance as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "This is called the Lyren Circle, an old method of containment similar to Rein'etar Cage. It is modified to work with your negation mages, who should be in place in the south. The schema is modified to accommodate for the..."
Lyra paused and looked at the small crowd of eager faces, each gripping a copy of the schema she had prepared, quills and pens in hand taking notes. Her frustration cooled and she sighed, waving a hand, "There isn't time. Simply follow the instructions, and this evening if you wish I will discuss with you the particulars."
Disappointment showed on a number of faces at her words, but with another snarl the witches all quickly scampered away back to their stations.
Signing again Lyra looked up at the rift that still loomed ominously overhead. Six days and they were still making steady progress, but it would be close. They had until the end of the season to finish all of the preparations, and time seemed to tick by faster when a project was due.
"For someone who says she isn't a teacher, you seem to do a lot of teaching."
Lyra grimaced, "The uneducated flock to even meager knowledge such as this. These witches are like locusts, devouring every morsel of information they find no matter how trivial."
"Well they haven't had much freedom to learn before." the mercenary came to stand beside her master, and she looked down at the other elf with a slight smirk, "You are just unlucky, being one of the only well educated mages in the city currently."
Rolling her eyes Lyra looked at Naila sideways, "If you were better at your job, I would not be pestered as much as I am."
"You don't pay me." Naila said simply before turning and sauntering away without a backwards glance.
Maybe I should kill her. Lyra thought half-heartedly, but she didn't feel any true malice toward the half-elf. She also did not feel as negatively toward the witches as she outwardly expressed. There was something akin to pity in her heart when she thought of the covens, desperately grasping after any new information they found. Pity, as well as understanding for she too had been similar once upon a time. Back when she had been...
Forcefully pushing away those thoughts Lyra turned her attention to the scroll in her hand. It was the full and completed schema which all the other groups were working from. In the corners she had made several notes, added adjustments where proper, and began adding new lines in places as she found minor points of inconsistency. The Man in White came unbidden to her thoughts as she worked, and she wondered what he would have done were he given such a task as this. How would He have gone about containing the mists? Or would he have simply tried to close the rift itself?
A sense of inadequacy washed over her as her quill stopped moving, and Lyra pushed down the feelings with a deepening frown. Whatever that man would have done it would have been perfection, but it was not what she would have done. In the end the way they thought was fundamentally different, and while she admired (grudgingly) his skill, she did not wish to be like him. He was a monster.
But aren't you one too? a small voice asked, somewhere in the back of her mind. It was quiet, easily ignored, and quickly drowned out by the tied of calculations and designs. Still the words lingered in the back of her mind, but where they had come from Lyra was not certain.
Nightfall brought with it darkness and shadow... but also unease and uncertainty. The happenings of the last few weeks were like a gaping wound in the souls of the people of Zaichaer, still bleeding and infection likely to set in should nothing be done. Anguish, pain, torment, despair. These and more were carried on the winds to Lyrielle as she traveled the broken city streets toward her destination. The crater where once stood the Presidium.
Black smoke flowed around her as Lyrielle hovered over the gaping hole in the center of the city. Though the mists no longer poured from the large rift in the air above, what remained on the ground still continued to persist and cause chaos for those who wandered within it. White mist fell like waterfalls into the crater itself, flowing down through the layers of the Warrens... down to the land that she now claimed as her own. Her territory. Her Dark Demesne. There was some level of remorse in her soul over those lost... but that brief glimmer of empathy was overshadowed by a larger, and far stronger feeling. Triumph. Exaltation.
A smile spread as Lyrielle looked down on her work. The symphonies of pain and desolation a sweet accompaniment with the rhythms of her own heart and soul. From pain and fear grew strength and resolve. Just as she were broken and made anew, this city too would be rebuilt into something more. This thought brought the elf back to her original purpose, and she closed her eyes and thought over the next steps.
She had been tasked with the impossible. To contain the dread mists once the rift began to expel them once more. Looking up Lyrielle once more wished she could simply move the rift downward into her own lands. There was much she could do with such power readily at her disposal... but such was impossible for her. Instead she would need to contain the chaos, but the one known as Franky had only specified that the surface be shielded, which made the already present smile widen further.
Thanks to the efforts of Franky, and the covens who assisted Lyra when preparing for the day of destruction, the groundwork for the next effort had already been set. Even as she floated idly above the city the witches of the covens were working, collecting the nodes she had prepared across the city and bringing them to the Crater. With a wave of her hand Lyrielle extended her tendrils of smoke outward and hovered up higher into the air, looking down on the city as she carefully guided the smoke to form shapes, twisting and turning until they solidified into the form of a large schema which covered the entire field of view over the center of the city. As she examined the creation Lyrielle made some alterations, adjustments here and there until everything was as she desired.
"At times a complex solution is called for, while at others the situation demands a simpler one." the elf mused, still looking down on the city, "Closing the rift is not possible for now, but isolating it so that no mists escape is equally difficult. Thus a sacrifice is required."
In her minds eye Lyrielle turned the schema over and over again, making adjustments as she imagined its purpose being enacted. Even she did not believe it simple to stop the onslaught of the dread mists with magic, even with the skill she had at her disposal. The chaotic nature of the mists would make most forms of containment fail given enough time, and if the tide could not be cut off from the rift then eventually the container would be overwhelmed and shattered. So instead the energies would be redirected, allowed to flow downward through the Warrens and into her own seat of power where it would be collected and steadily refined. In the end it would serve the purpose of protecting the city as she had been tasked, but would also provide Lyrielle with a resource for her work.
*****
66th of Searing, 122 AS
"Place the stones at least 20 meters back from the edge of the Crater." Lyra said to the robed men and women who carried dark red stones, each the size of a person's head, toward the center of the city. She had been steadily guiding the process of forming the parameter scrivening diagram for the last 6 days, a process which was as tedious as it was frustrating. The Coven Witches were curious in nature, talented certainly, but after years of suppression they were liked starved wolves who had caught the sent of a lone deer. Men and women, young and old had begun to come to her to ask questions, make inquiries and suggestions, and no matter how often she shut down their antics it seemed their intellectual curiosity was insatiable.
"Are you certain this is right? This collection point seems better suited for ---"
"I think the power should be routed south instead of north, around the bend of ---"
"Why are you using this element to cross the gap between ---"
"Enough." Lyra growled, eyes flashing in annoyance as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "This is called the Lyren Circle, an old method of containment similar to Rein'etar Cage. It is modified to work with your negation mages, who should be in place in the south. The schema is modified to accommodate for the..."
Lyra paused and looked at the small crowd of eager faces, each gripping a copy of the schema she had prepared, quills and pens in hand taking notes. Her frustration cooled and she sighed, waving a hand, "There isn't time. Simply follow the instructions, and this evening if you wish I will discuss with you the particulars."
Disappointment showed on a number of faces at her words, but with another snarl the witches all quickly scampered away back to their stations.
Signing again Lyra looked up at the rift that still loomed ominously overhead. Six days and they were still making steady progress, but it would be close. They had until the end of the season to finish all of the preparations, and time seemed to tick by faster when a project was due.
"For someone who says she isn't a teacher, you seem to do a lot of teaching."
Lyra grimaced, "The uneducated flock to even meager knowledge such as this. These witches are like locusts, devouring every morsel of information they find no matter how trivial."
"Well they haven't had much freedom to learn before." the mercenary came to stand beside her master, and she looked down at the other elf with a slight smirk, "You are just unlucky, being one of the only well educated mages in the city currently."
Rolling her eyes Lyra looked at Naila sideways, "If you were better at your job, I would not be pestered as much as I am."
"You don't pay me." Naila said simply before turning and sauntering away without a backwards glance.
Maybe I should kill her. Lyra thought half-heartedly, but she didn't feel any true malice toward the half-elf. She also did not feel as negatively toward the witches as she outwardly expressed. There was something akin to pity in her heart when she thought of the covens, desperately grasping after any new information they found. Pity, as well as understanding for she too had been similar once upon a time. Back when she had been...
Forcefully pushing away those thoughts Lyra turned her attention to the scroll in her hand. It was the full and completed schema which all the other groups were working from. In the corners she had made several notes, added adjustments where proper, and began adding new lines in places as she found minor points of inconsistency. The Man in White came unbidden to her thoughts as she worked, and she wondered what he would have done were he given such a task as this. How would He have gone about containing the mists? Or would he have simply tried to close the rift itself?
A sense of inadequacy washed over her as her quill stopped moving, and Lyra pushed down the feelings with a deepening frown. Whatever that man would have done it would have been perfection, but it was not what she would have done. In the end the way they thought was fundamentally different, and while she admired (grudgingly) his skill, she did not wish to be like him. He was a monster.
But aren't you one too? a small voice asked, somewhere in the back of her mind. It was quiet, easily ignored, and quickly drowned out by the tied of calculations and designs. Still the words lingered in the back of her mind, but where they had come from Lyra was not certain.
