Striking the Bars III
Posted: Tue Nov 05, 2024 5:21 pm
Strike the Bars III 
Lyra basked in the afterglow of success that followed her first uses of Nyx within her prison. Through the shadows of the bones she could see the laboratory, or parts of it at least. It was similar to what she might have expected a world mage to have in her lab. Shelves with supplies, workbenches, and of course there was the presence of special tools that Lyra recognized from several disciplines. She was even able to see the demonstone where it sat on a pedestal on the far side of the lab. Though she did not have long to observe, she did see signs that the stone was in fact being utilized as a battery of some kind. There were also additional wards around the stone itself, confirming Lyra's suspicions that her escape would require undoing more than one layer of defenses.
It took only a few seconds for her magic to run dry and the spell to collapse, pulling her senses back into the stone and the darkness contained within. Yet she did not feel perturbed. In fact Lyra felt a renewed sense of purpose, an excitement that can only be summoned when one made strides toward one's goals. Afterwards she had to rest and collect herself, but even while she gathered her strength her mind worked tirelessly on the next steps in her plans.
It took quite some time for Lyra to scavenge enough aether to begin the next experiment she had in mind. This time she would work with something she had actively avoided previously... The power of Chaos.
It wasn't that she was afraid of the power that the mark of Entropy represented. In fact, it was that power that now drew her toward it. For centuries Lyra, or rather Lyrielle, had led what could be described as a purely chaotic existence. Even before her soul was shattered her mind was broken from what had been done to her, and the fractures only grew with time. When Shaeoth finally found her Lyrielle was barely sentient, more a force of nature than a conscious being, but his voice silenced the whispers in her mind and let her think clearly for the first time in ages.
Her lives were a mixture of ecstatic pleasure and numbing horror as time and time again her mind broke and scattered, and she was reinvented anew. There was no order in her existence, save for the words of the one she loved. It was his will that kept her somewhat sane, but Lyra could not forget what it felt like to be so utterly out of control.
It was a subtle thing, the fear that plagued her heart even as she drew upon the golden energies of chaos. She feared returning to that state of uncertainty. That fear is, partially, what lead her so firmly down the path of world magics once she had been freed. She had not considered it before, but it was the Dragon King himself who fractured her soul and trapped her... It seemed possible he had forced order on her mind as a part of that process. Lyra would never be thankful for the experience, but she could recognize the good it had done her. Thus she was reluctant to touch upon the power that could undo all the progress she had made.
Yet she was nothing if not practical. There was immense power and potential in chaos, and in the rune of Entropy, and Lyra would not allow herself to ignore a potential tool that would release her from this prison. She would not be separated from her daughter. She would not remain apart from the man she loved more than her own life.
When the golden sparks of energy began to flicker through her smokey form, Lyra felt some part of her mind purr in delight. It was not the part of her that was Lyrielle, but rather another shard of her psyche. One that was unafraid of the unknown, one that reveled in the destruction it might bring. That part of her almost seemed to sigh, as if to say 'at last...'
Lyra's understanding of Entropy was... lacking to say the least. The energy that she pulled from the rune resisted her attempts to focus it, and seemed to grow agitated when she attempted to confine it to one part of her prison. It was so unlike any of her other magic. It almost felt ALIVE, like it had a will of its own. That was nonsense of course, but the thought gave Lyra pause as she simply watched the energy that sparked in random patterns around the stone.
She turned her attention to the wards that surrounded her, examining them as she had done a hundred times over at this point. Then she began to piece together an idea... Extending a thin strand of her essence Lyra willed the chaotic energy to leap down her form and cross the distance into the ward itself. When it struck the gold light spun out in spiraling patterns, digging into the strands of aether that made up the wards and clinging to it like a vine. It almost seemed to stretch itself out, digging in sharp points like thorns in places it could, but as the energy spread thinner it was slowly dispersed by the wards and consumed like all the rest of Lyra's magic.
At first Lyra thought the magic had not affect, much like her use of Mesmer, but as she looked closer Lyra thought she saw something odd. With a thought she pulled out more of the golden energy and spun it into a simple spell, a Hex which normally would be used on another living thing. Again she reached out and let the spell leap from her tendril of essence into the wards, and this time the magic remained bound closer together, still spreading slightly but held more of a shape due to the nature of the spell itself. It still was dispersed after a time, but Lyra noticed it took longer than before. When it had all finally been drawn away Lyra could just barely make out what looked like thin lines in the wards where the aether meshes had begun to fray ever so slightly.
Another wave of excitement washed over Lyra, but her enthusiasm sobered as she saw that the damage was already being repaired as more of her aether was drawn out by the magic of the demonstone. It took several hours, and more than a little of her aether, but the wards completely healed themselves, and there was no signs that they had been damaged at all. However, Lyra was not disappointed. She had learned something quite interesting through this single interaction.
First, the wards were not impervious. They could be damaged, but they seemed especially good at resisting her usual methods. They were not impervious to other magics, especially those of a chaotic nature like Entropy. Second, the damages to the wards would repair themselves, and when they did they would draw on more of her energy than before to do so. That meant the more she experimented, the more she would lose aether wise in the long run. This told her what her priority was: To find a way to resist or even nullify the draw on her aether, at least enough to be able to stockpile enough aether to use to escape. The third thing was that if she did want to break the wards, she would have to do so in a single spell. She could not give the wards time to recover, and if the strength of the power draw increased in proportion to the damages she caused, there was a good chance a failure would result in her soul being completely drained dry. That was not a pleasant thought.
Her mind was buzzing with possible avenues to pursue now. It seemed she had many more options than she thought, though the difficulty of her situation was even greater than she feared. Now it was clear that she would not be escaping any time soon... but she WOULD escape. She would need to find a way to resist the pull on her aether, generate more aether she could collect, and stockpile as much as possible somewhere she could retrieve it when she needed it.
In the end it all came back to the fundamentals. It was ironic in a way. Now, when she was at her most powerful, with more magic and abilities than she knew what to do with... It was the lessons she had learned in her childhood which were proving the most useful. When before she had been forced to live in chaos without order, now she was forced into order and must utilize chaos to escape. All things did indeed come full circle. Perhaps if she were not so enraged with her situation Lyra would have found it all poetic.
With a mental shake her head Lyra began to collect and condense her form, calling on nyx to create the spheres of shadow and pushing aether into them. She needed to do more experiments before she could truly say she had a plan.
22nd of Ash, 124th Year, A.o.S.
Lyra basked in the afterglow of success that followed her first uses of Nyx within her prison. Through the shadows of the bones she could see the laboratory, or parts of it at least. It was similar to what she might have expected a world mage to have in her lab. Shelves with supplies, workbenches, and of course there was the presence of special tools that Lyra recognized from several disciplines. She was even able to see the demonstone where it sat on a pedestal on the far side of the lab. Though she did not have long to observe, she did see signs that the stone was in fact being utilized as a battery of some kind. There were also additional wards around the stone itself, confirming Lyra's suspicions that her escape would require undoing more than one layer of defenses.
It took only a few seconds for her magic to run dry and the spell to collapse, pulling her senses back into the stone and the darkness contained within. Yet she did not feel perturbed. In fact Lyra felt a renewed sense of purpose, an excitement that can only be summoned when one made strides toward one's goals. Afterwards she had to rest and collect herself, but even while she gathered her strength her mind worked tirelessly on the next steps in her plans.
It took quite some time for Lyra to scavenge enough aether to begin the next experiment she had in mind. This time she would work with something she had actively avoided previously... The power of Chaos.
It wasn't that she was afraid of the power that the mark of Entropy represented. In fact, it was that power that now drew her toward it. For centuries Lyra, or rather Lyrielle, had led what could be described as a purely chaotic existence. Even before her soul was shattered her mind was broken from what had been done to her, and the fractures only grew with time. When Shaeoth finally found her Lyrielle was barely sentient, more a force of nature than a conscious being, but his voice silenced the whispers in her mind and let her think clearly for the first time in ages.
Her lives were a mixture of ecstatic pleasure and numbing horror as time and time again her mind broke and scattered, and she was reinvented anew. There was no order in her existence, save for the words of the one she loved. It was his will that kept her somewhat sane, but Lyra could not forget what it felt like to be so utterly out of control.
It was a subtle thing, the fear that plagued her heart even as she drew upon the golden energies of chaos. She feared returning to that state of uncertainty. That fear is, partially, what lead her so firmly down the path of world magics once she had been freed. She had not considered it before, but it was the Dragon King himself who fractured her soul and trapped her... It seemed possible he had forced order on her mind as a part of that process. Lyra would never be thankful for the experience, but she could recognize the good it had done her. Thus she was reluctant to touch upon the power that could undo all the progress she had made.
Yet she was nothing if not practical. There was immense power and potential in chaos, and in the rune of Entropy, and Lyra would not allow herself to ignore a potential tool that would release her from this prison. She would not be separated from her daughter. She would not remain apart from the man she loved more than her own life.
When the golden sparks of energy began to flicker through her smokey form, Lyra felt some part of her mind purr in delight. It was not the part of her that was Lyrielle, but rather another shard of her psyche. One that was unafraid of the unknown, one that reveled in the destruction it might bring. That part of her almost seemed to sigh, as if to say 'at last...'
Lyra's understanding of Entropy was... lacking to say the least. The energy that she pulled from the rune resisted her attempts to focus it, and seemed to grow agitated when she attempted to confine it to one part of her prison. It was so unlike any of her other magic. It almost felt ALIVE, like it had a will of its own. That was nonsense of course, but the thought gave Lyra pause as she simply watched the energy that sparked in random patterns around the stone.
She turned her attention to the wards that surrounded her, examining them as she had done a hundred times over at this point. Then she began to piece together an idea... Extending a thin strand of her essence Lyra willed the chaotic energy to leap down her form and cross the distance into the ward itself. When it struck the gold light spun out in spiraling patterns, digging into the strands of aether that made up the wards and clinging to it like a vine. It almost seemed to stretch itself out, digging in sharp points like thorns in places it could, but as the energy spread thinner it was slowly dispersed by the wards and consumed like all the rest of Lyra's magic.
At first Lyra thought the magic had not affect, much like her use of Mesmer, but as she looked closer Lyra thought she saw something odd. With a thought she pulled out more of the golden energy and spun it into a simple spell, a Hex which normally would be used on another living thing. Again she reached out and let the spell leap from her tendril of essence into the wards, and this time the magic remained bound closer together, still spreading slightly but held more of a shape due to the nature of the spell itself. It still was dispersed after a time, but Lyra noticed it took longer than before. When it had all finally been drawn away Lyra could just barely make out what looked like thin lines in the wards where the aether meshes had begun to fray ever so slightly.
Another wave of excitement washed over Lyra, but her enthusiasm sobered as she saw that the damage was already being repaired as more of her aether was drawn out by the magic of the demonstone. It took several hours, and more than a little of her aether, but the wards completely healed themselves, and there was no signs that they had been damaged at all. However, Lyra was not disappointed. She had learned something quite interesting through this single interaction.
First, the wards were not impervious. They could be damaged, but they seemed especially good at resisting her usual methods. They were not impervious to other magics, especially those of a chaotic nature like Entropy. Second, the damages to the wards would repair themselves, and when they did they would draw on more of her energy than before to do so. That meant the more she experimented, the more she would lose aether wise in the long run. This told her what her priority was: To find a way to resist or even nullify the draw on her aether, at least enough to be able to stockpile enough aether to use to escape. The third thing was that if she did want to break the wards, she would have to do so in a single spell. She could not give the wards time to recover, and if the strength of the power draw increased in proportion to the damages she caused, there was a good chance a failure would result in her soul being completely drained dry. That was not a pleasant thought.
Her mind was buzzing with possible avenues to pursue now. It seemed she had many more options than she thought, though the difficulty of her situation was even greater than she feared. Now it was clear that she would not be escaping any time soon... but she WOULD escape. She would need to find a way to resist the pull on her aether, generate more aether she could collect, and stockpile as much as possible somewhere she could retrieve it when she needed it.
In the end it all came back to the fundamentals. It was ironic in a way. Now, when she was at her most powerful, with more magic and abilities than she knew what to do with... It was the lessons she had learned in her childhood which were proving the most useful. When before she had been forced to live in chaos without order, now she was forced into order and must utilize chaos to escape. All things did indeed come full circle. Perhaps if she were not so enraged with her situation Lyra would have found it all poetic.
With a mental shake her head Lyra began to collect and condense her form, calling on nyx to create the spheres of shadow and pushing aether into them. She needed to do more experiments before she could truly say she had a plan.