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  1. #21
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    Alain quietly nods in agreement to Nalia's assessment of the other Guilds. His head stops this slow approving motion when she plays off the matter of the king's compliance with little worry. Alain simply stares at Nalia with surprise, which eventually gives way to an amused smirk. He's not sure if Nalia is showing some sort of false confidence or if she has some secret weapon to bring forth, either way, Alain is impressed.

    Eventually, the matter of Mindoka is brought up. Alain glances up through the parting of the domed ceiling, which provides his telescope, and his eyes right now, a clear view of the stars Nalia speaks of. He rubs his chin in thought as he gazes upon the heavens.


    "Getting a meeting with the Guild Master of Shamaa can be a difficult task to some outsiders. Especially on such short notice. I'm not sure if even the stars can arrange that," Alain wonders aloud, with a somewhat overly dramatic tone in his worrying. He then looks away from the twinkling cosmos above them, and once again smirks at Nalia. "If only you knew a well-dressed Guild Master who had already arranged to meet Mindoka for dinner and a discussion of Guild matters tomorrow night," Alain mischievously continues, while lowering his hands to tug at his skillfully tailored waistcoat in order to further smooth out any wrinkles from it.

    "You will get better than my advocacy, you will get my charming presence. I am having my chefs prepare a feast to bring to Mindoka for this dinner, once his belly is full of Taroc's finest delicacies he is sure to be in an exceptionally good mood and will no doubt better see the wisdom in your ideas," Alain confidently tells Nalia. "You can tell him what you have told me, and should he have any worries I will be there to give him the perspective of a fellow member of the council, one who can see the merits in your guild."

    "And don't you worry about endangering me... This is not an official matter of the province of Taroc, I am simply attending a dinner with my very good friends and providing my opinions on whatever we may discuss." Alain clasps his hands behind his back and smiles broadly to Nalia.

  2. #22
    The Province of Taroc in Far Western Rekōdo: The Floating Heli'Dom of Faraking Island.

    Attachment 1580

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia stares at Alain. Her face mirrored disbelief, joy and annoyance that he had accomplished all that.

    "How-" she stops. She did not need to ask how. He was Alain LeCavalier, after all. The man could accomplish anything, it seemed, with a tangible thought. Nalia still felt like he was taking a terrible risk in supporting her. What if this backfired? What if this ruined him? Everything she did took a drastically dark turn. Everything great she attempted to accomplish was marred by her past. She did not want to drag him into this. Not so much, but what could be done? Nothing stopped Alain of Taroc once his heart or mind were set on something. She had read the history texts of Rekōdo under his tutelage. She knew the stories from the Great War, though she did not let them be the only thing that ruled her opinion of the Guild Master. She knew his determination.

    "Hardly well-dressed" she muttered under her breath. Her emerald eyes looked critically over Alain's attire. Her lips pursed and shifted to one side. The way her eyes looked up at him were almost worried, as if the joke were in poor taste. Nalia never joked. Ever. The concept of a joke was lost on the overly serious and sometimes brooding young woman. The conception of a joke and it being birthed was simply not done. The skeptical way she looked up at Alain verified her own discomfort in letting it slip through her lips. Nalia cleared her throat and shirked the unusual taste of the joke off her shoulders.

    "You are too confident" she speaks plainly to him. She turns her back to him, looking over one cloaked shoulder as she speaks. One hand lifts and the window that allows them the view of the ocean and bay below slowly fades away. The entirety of the castle's wall begins to disappear brick by brick until they are left with a beautiful, nearly 180 degree view of the world below them. It was an illusion, illustrated by the gently green glow at her fingertips. Air, cool and smelling of salt, wafted up from below them. The sound of the waves hitting the cliffs of Taroc's northern boundary and the sands below Faraking are exact. The view of the stars is the same, pulled from Alain's own knowledge that floated on the surface of his mind. His extensive knowledge filled in the gaps of her own, which were not vast thanks to his teachings in her youth. Nalia loved the stars. Everything laid out before them was an exact replica of what it would look like had there been no wall before them, or tiny window limiting their horizon. The sun had set long ago. The hour was late. Everything from the feel of the breeze to the smell of the air and the faint taste of salt even this high up was perfection.

    She had never felt more at home than she had on Faraking Island.

    "Maginus is so cold compared to this" she said quietly with her back to Alain. One hand remained elevated before her, palm toward the beautiful view she made with a mere thought. The false wind moved her long, dark hair and the hem of her emerald cloak.

    "I read in the historic texts that some of the Masters wished me Quieted when you found me."

    She had been told such a thing by Darmon, but had chalked it up to farce. He loved to goad and hold things over her, and every one, so it had been dismissed until now.

    "Is this true?"

    She did not look at him. Nalia did not ask him what his vote was. She would not. She knew, despite what Darmon tried to assure her was truth. The margin had been narrow. Instead, Nalia looked out over the dark water, kissed and whitened only by moonlit caps as they crested and broke along the rough waters.

    "I do not blame them she whispered quietly. "I can be quite frightening. I do not want their acceptance to be based upon fear."

    Her voice softened again, as if she were asking for something terribly far away.

    "It should come from respect."
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:37 PM.
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  3. #23
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    When Nalia jokes about Alain's attire, he glances down at his wardrobe, as if to ensure he still wears the finest materials Taroc's merchants have to offer. Nalia's observation of his over confidence is responded to with a widening smile and a glance back up at Nalia. Doubts and worries didn't win over support from the conquered people of Taroc during the early days of the Great War. Alain had to transcend such failings, at least in the eyes of others.

    Soon Nalia's magical power fills the room and the walls appear to fade away, leaving them surrounded entirely by the open landscape around the tower and the heavens above. A brief chill runs along his spine as he knows this is an illusion. His grandfather's warnings about illusions tugs at the back of Alain's mind. A few tragic experiences falling victim to Maginus illusion weavers haunts him for a brief instant. Alain is able to push these chilling thoughts and feelings aside and focus on Nalia. He's with Nalia, if he cannot trust his senses in this moment he knows he can trust her. Once he reminds himself of this, Alain tries to lose himself in the illusion Nalia is crafting for them. He allows himself to inhale the scent of the ocean and admire the twinkling of the starlight.

    Just as Alain is able to force himself to half-relax under the false night sky, Nalia asks of the some of the Council's wish to Quiet her. He gazes up at the stars, admiring them for being exactly where they need to be. His smile seems lost now. His expression is more somber now.


    "What happened to you-" Alain begins slowly. "-it was difficult on some of the council. Some of them do not react well to difficult situations. They would rather throw a simple solution at it in order to get rid of it as swiftly as possible."

    "If they had any less sense, they would cut off their own nose to be rid of the sniffles," Alain ponders softly, as if to himself and the stars he gazes upon. He gradually looks over to Nalia.

    "A child will never be Quieted. Not while I still draw breath," Alain tells her. His tone is a solemn vow. It's one he made to the council and king once before. It's a vow Alain was, and always will be, willing to uphold with the strength of his own hands, if necessary.

    He looks back up towards the starscape. From his mind flows knowledge of the various constellations and prophetic patterns of the stars around them. Should Nalia wish to receive this information, she will find the cosmos gleaned from his thoughts is now the canvas for the imaginations and skills of hundreds of Taroc stargazers over countless generations. Shapes of fantastic and mythical creatures are drawn out over the stars. Heroes of grandeur and legend stand proudly across the heavens. Patterns of swirling beauty and lines of intricate grace decorates the night in dozens of dazzling colors. It seems as if the entire history of Rekōdo, both real and imagined, seems to be painted across the cosmos.

    This is how a Guild Master of Taroc is taught to see the stars.

    This is what Alain openly shares with Nalia.


    "Fear is easier to earn than respect, but only respect can live beyond you. Respect will inspire others to write your legend in the stars."

  4. #24
    The Province of Taroc in Far Western Rekōdo: The Floating Heli'Dom of Faraking Island.

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia can feel them, like tiny tugs on a fishing lure an she turned to look at him over her shoulder. A chill, a sorrow, a haunt. Shadows play across Nalia's face as the moon shines through her dark, rich curls.

    "It's alright" she says to him gently. She affords him the rarest hint of a smile. It was sad, not quite a true smile, but it was something she had not given to him or anyone in a very long time. She feels him open his mind to her, something he'd done many times in the past. With infinite gentleness, not the usual tentativeness as in times past, Nalia reaches back. The touch of her mind always brought on a coolness, like a cold blanket. As soon as she embraced the offered mental hand, Nalia gasped. Her hand dropped from its holding position, but the illusion remained. Not only had she mastered the Astralian gift of illusionary arts, but she developed the ability to tie off her illusions as if they were separate entities of their own. She could walk away from Faraking, and her illusion could maintain itself for as long as her magik allowed. Her neck craned back and her emerald eyes were immediately drawn to the heavens above. The stars above reflected within her own emerald orbs. Her mind is overwhelmed with information, images from telescopes, constellations and their stories. The night sky becomes infinitely open to her. She can sense their movements and orbits, their revolutions and energies. The profoundness of the things he sees where she only saw stars causes her to step back hastily from the illusionary view she created. Nalia reaches a hand back to steady herself on something, anything.

    "You see this every night?"

    There were creatures in the sky. Heroes captured forever in the heavens, ancient kings watching over them as they rotated and spun across Deanna's Diadem.

    "It's beautiful."

    How could she ever earn her place here, above the world? Her life would forever be overshadowed by an dark past. Still staring up at the heavens, Nalia shakes her head.

    "No" she said quietly. "I will never be worthy of such a great honor. Such a memorial belongs to people like my mother. To people like you."

    Without warning, her eyes raced across the dome of sky toward the horizon where the last light of the sun touched a constellation called the Great Healer. A maiden with outstretched arms and flowing hair. Nalia's breath caught in her throat. She took another step back. Alain would feel her mind tumbling, like a small crab caught in the breaking waves on the shore of the island. She suddenly felt overwhelmed by the vastness of the sky, the stars, their shapes and stories.

    "How do you not look at these and weep?" Her voice was barely audible. "How... every night...?"

    Nalia was still staring upward. She was not looking at Alain, but at the crushingly beautiful weight of the greatness of the stars beyond, the galaxies and nebulae and novas, comets and planets and black holes. Nalia took another step backward. But it did nothing to deplete the overwhelming beauty and unknown of those stars. She felt terribly small, surrounded by a twinkling sea of pure creativeness and raw destruction.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:37 PM.

  5. #25
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    Alain realizes that this celestial tapestry he is sharing is overwhelming Nalia. He is immediately by her side. His right hand rests on her shoulder, hoping to anchor her back into the tangible world.

    "I'm sorry. I forgot how difficult this can be for others," Alain says softly.

    "This is indeed how the Guild Masters of Taroc are taught to see the stars. Clow tried to teach it to me during our early years together. I'm afraid having a ghost trying to force star charts into my head, when the skies were choked with unending smoke and I would have rather focused on battle plans... well, it took much of the emotional impact out of it for me." Alain gazes upward, trying to see the stars through younger, less jaded eyes. He's saddened slightly when the attempt fails.

    "This celestial tapestry is a map for life on our world, Humbug. The images represent metaphors of our histories and myths. The movements of planets, moons and other objects interact with the images and create the patterns of our pasts and futures."

    Alain looks back towards Nalia. "We're all a part of it. Our every action is written up there to be discovered and read. It's greater than any one of us, but without us it's meaningless. If we were not here, these stars would be a book written about no one and read by nobody. And no single stargazer can decipher the whole sky. Thousands of us, spread across eons, must work together to even understand a fraction of it all."

    "The stars are life. It's greater than us, but we give it meaning. None of it can make sense if we don't work together. I suppose once I learned this, making peace and building the council after the war became easier." Alain shrugs slightly before continuing, "I like to think this makes me a little wiser and maybe a bit more humble than I would be otherwise. Even if it doesn't, it feels like a good enough lesson to learn."

  6. #26
    The Province of Taroc in Far Western Rekōdo: The Floating Heli'Dom of Faraking Island.

    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia's body does not react to Alain's touch. It might seem odd, at first, but only because he could not see her face. Her eyes shifted, just briefly, so that they stared not up at the heaven's but became more focused on things within earthly sight. But the connection to Alain's psyche was still there and she was still able to grasp all the intangible sights he offered her. Her emerald eyes almost unwillingly drifted back upward as if her Soul were slipping away into those very stars. There was a subtle shift in her body then, one she was no consciously making. She took another slight step back and her shoulder rested more securely under his strong, gloved hand. Since she'd unofficially left Maginus, his was the first and, really, the only touch she had not ever shirked from. Even as a child, who rarely laughed or played as other children in the two provinces did, it was in Alain's presence that Nalia had ever felt truly safe.

    "It is not difficult" she said quickly. Her words matched the shallow, rapid way she breathed. "There is just so much-"

    Nalia took her eyes from the stars, tearing her gaze away from their unknowns and their beauty. When she did she choked down air, gulping it greedily as if it were being denied to her by a crushing weight upon her chest. Alain would feel her body feeding itself air through his touch on her cloaked shoulder. She is listening to him very carefully and kept a small tether of her mind attached to the precious thing he shared with her.

    "I am glad you have come to understand that" she said quietly. "Reconstruction after the Great War would have taken so much longer without your efforts. Many lives would be so much worse without your intervention."

    A silent testimony to the great debt she owed him. If she had been found by any other, by anyone else, she most likely would have been killed. Nalia glanced back up at the stars. Would they hide her terrible secrets? Or, if Alain went looking for them, or any of his mystics, would they yield them? Was this the one thing she could not hide her darkness from? Slowly, the Guild Master would feel Nalia's mind pull away from the beautiful gift he shared with her. And slowly, he'd feel her turn around to face him.

    "I'm afraid I have nothing nearly so beautiful to share with you."

    Her emerald eyes floated back from the unearthly beauty of the stars and found his crismon-flecked orbs.

    "It seems unfair that-" Nalia's eyes suddenly lit up. There was a play of mischief within the depths of their beautiful, green hue. The smile Nalia gave was darkly devious.

    "We do not have to meet with Mindoka until tomorrow night you said" she recalled aloud. "There is one thing I can show you this night, if you are willing. It will not be as great as your stars, but it would not be fair if I did not show you any thing."

    Nalia tentatively extended a hand.

    "The only thing I must ask" she requested in a softly demurred voice. "Is that you take us there."

    Nalia looked down and then away and lifted only her eyes to look up at the stars.

    "I want to remember your stars for as long as I can. I do not want the darkness of my travel to ruin such a beautiful memory."

    There was a soft emerald glow in the lines of the palm offered to him. The destination for their travels was written into the genetic palm print of her hand, into her life lines and love lines that he could read. Into the deltas and ridge endings and islands and bifurcation of each finger. Every line of every whorls, loop and arch held the key to their destination. All he had to do was take her hand. She looked up at him again, imploring, with a soft emerald glow to her exotic eyes.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:36 PM.

  7. #27
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Heli'Dom, On the Faraking Island...

    Seeing Nalia's mischievous smile and brightened eyes restores Alain's grin. It's a rare thing to see the woman smile. Ever since Nalia was young, Alain has worked very hard to give her more things to smile about. These last few days have seemed like an especially grim time for her, Alain feared he might not see her this happy again.

    When Nalia holds out her hand, Alain takes hold of it without hesitation. Though Clow complains that Alain is far too trusting of Nalia, Alain has no fear of what she has planned for them. Over the years, Nalia has earned Alain's absolute trust. In the heart of a LeCavalier, such bonds are rarely broken or questioned.

    A flare up of red fire flows up from Alain's arms and torso. Nalia would recognize this as a minor use of Alain's teleportation in order to summon something to the Guild Master. The flame appears and vanishes incredibly swiftly, and as the fire evaporates it leaves a dark maroon frock coat fit perfectly onto Alain's strong frame. With his coat teleported onto him, Alain gives Nalia a readied nod.


    "I can't wait to see what lies ahead," Alain comments with an excited smile. Immediately Nalia's palm tingles as the information she mystically offers is read by Alain's prophetic talents. This information flows from Nalia's grasp and directly into the arcane forces infused into Alain that allows him to teleport across vast distances.

    Flames of scarlet bursts forth from Alain. This fiery power feels warm, but far from the harmful or deadly heat one would expect from such an inferno. Instead it would feel like a firm breeze warmed by the rays of the summertime sun as it washes over both Alain and Nalia. They are both embraced by this crimson fire, which covers them completely before evaporating an instant later. When the fire vanishes, both Alain and Nalia are gone from the chamber. No sign of the two remains as Alain's powers instantly teleports them off to Nalia's chosen destination.

  8. #28
    The Aile Bones: The Island of Capios of the UnIncorporated Guild of Enchantry


    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia's emerald eyes locked onto Alain's as the warm crimson of his palm blanketed the cool emerald of her own. As they disappeared from Faraking, they reappeared on another island after traveling over the waters of the Strait of Rekōdo and the Fragmented Sea, where the Aile Bones float line dark gems among the glistening, cold sea waters. Even in the best of weather, these waters were the most dangerous to any seafarers. They are constantly coursed with winds that are buffeted by Faraking Island as they rip through from the mountainous North. The islands were almost always bathed in mist, though the sun occasionally burnt some of it off as it climbed to its zenith form the east. But still these oddly deep coastal waters were scattered with islands and crags of rock that jutted from the spray of salty water or lurked dangerously close to the surface beneath. Like scales of a great beast, or teeth from a maw, ready to rip ships asunder who dared venture through these aged and supposedly haunted aisles.

    Nalia brought them to the shore of one of these ghostly islands. Alain would recognize the familiar sound of water as it crashed upon a sandy, rock-strewn shore. The moon above illumined the silvery mist that rolled along the more distant waters. The surf was white as it hit the shore and, farther as the eye traveled further and farther form the coast, the size of the dark, shining rock grew. Behind them, the slop of the island, like many of the others, traveled quickly upward. When the fire of teleportation left their bodies, Nalia was slow to release Alain's hand. Her eyes were wandering, having already memorized so much of this island that would soon be her home, if the God Liar'Adon and Deanna of the Stars were merciful. You could se the stars from the island and, distantly to both the east and west, the faint lights of Wind'frte, Al'Rora and then the westward Faraking Island. It was quiet and even with those distant lights, the wayward mist made everything look otherworldly. The air around them felt otherworldly, as if charged with a very ancient and old magik. It seemed to hum in rhythm with the waves of the sea, the pulse of the land and the movement of the stars above. When Nalia finally did release his hand, it was to walk a few steps forward, toward the chilly water. The wind whipped at her curls, tossing them playfully across her face and over her shoulders. Her cloak billowed behind her, the emerald color rippling like a premature banner in the night. The waters rushed up to try and lap at their heels. Nalia turned around to look at Alain. There was a glow in her emerald eyes, not of her power, but of a barely contained excitement.

    "This is Capios" she said to the man who was one of her mentors, the more beloved by far of the two. "This is what I have chosen."

    In a rush, Nalia turned back toward the water. They were in a tiny inlet, hooked by a ringlet of land, studded with rock in the water. Impenetrable by sea, even with mystics as guides. The wild magik here did not play by the same rules as the tame magik they knew. Once wards were set up this place would be very hard to penetrate.

    "I know these islands better than any other" she said quietly in a rush. "So much of my work has lead me here, to this island. There is something about it. It- it feels right, Alain."

    A drop of formalities, something he's encouraged of her for a long time, to little avail. Here, now, with her guard dangerously down, such proprieties were eclipsed. Nalia turned to face him. A pale, ivory hand reached up to brush the wind-blown locks from her face. There were still bruises on her arm, a sick brownish purple now, as they were beginning to fade with the passage of time.

    "I always said Faraking was my favorite place... this place is very much like it but... more wild. Can't you feel it?"

    Anyone who could wield magik would feel it. It was one reason these islands were so feared. Wild things were said to live in the Ailes, especially when you ventures farther into the sea and closer to the Unsettled Lands. But Nalia was something of that wilderness. It had welcomed her here the day she began her research abroad in the Ailes. The island hummed gently, almost inaudibly, as if it were purring. Nalia was watching him closely. Every one that ever breathed was so unnerved by these islands and the stories the fishermen told of beautiful things like merfolk and sea elves and of horribly frightening things, like giant kracken, sirens, and sea dragons.

    "Does it bother you?" Nalia asked him almost hypnotically. She was watching him very carefully to see if Alain LeCavalier was the same as so many other men. Some men were frightened by the pull of the wild magik. Some were tantalized by it. Nalia al'Vatar, daughter of Neohr and Silvyan knew in her core that this was here she was meant to be. She looked now to Alain for his reaction.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:36 PM.

  9. #29
    The Great Orange One Qwaring's clone#1 is offline Qwaring's clone#1's Avatar
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    Alain LeCavalier


    The Aile Bones: The Island of Capios of the UnIncorporated Guild of Enchantry

    Clow recognizes this place before Alain does. Often times, the more experienced spirit can perceive what takes the man's senses moments to understand. The spirit is quick to warn Alain of this place, and the dreaded wild magicks that lurk here. Alain does his best to ignore much of Clow's words. It's a distraction. Instead, Alain looks around. He takes in his surroundings with sharpened senses, as if he were a predatory animal preying upon a new territory for the first time. His eyes and ears seek out points of interest or danger, and his nose samples the air in search of the things that can not be seen or heard.

    His mystical senses quickly tingles across his skin as he feels something not quite right. This place tastes almost like a bad omen would to an oracle, but different. It has the odor of a miscast spell before it dissolves into the ether. But these are not tangible smells and flavors, simply what his arcane training has taught him to translate these feelings into.

    Despite the ominous nature of this place, Alain's combat sense remains silent. There is no conflict or violence to be sensed here. Alain feels no potential for bloodshed. All of Alain's warrior's instincts tells him this is a safe, peaceful place. Were he the Alain LeCavalier of sixteen years of age, before he received the training of the Guild Master of Taroc, he might not sense anything odd about this place at all. It's only Clow, and what he has taught Alain, that brings a sense of dread.

    Alain eventually focuses on Nalia. He watches her and her excitement. He notes the glow in her eyes, the lightness in her step and how she has dropped using a more formal name for him. Not being referred to so formally seems to lift a small burden from the back of Alain's mind, as someone calling him by an official title often leaves Alain feeling as if he should be off filing paperwork or overseeing an infinitely dull meeting between local magistrates on matters of trade taxation.

    Eventually, Alain looks out over the shoreline and landscape once again. This time he struggles to push aside the disturbing strangeness of this place. He tries to see it as Nalia might. Alain tries to force himself to see this as a place where the seeds of a new guild might be able to grow.


    "I feel an odd combination of danger and calm in this place," Alain replies in an unsure tone. He then shrugs his shoulders and gives Nalia an amused grin. "I think I kind of like that."

    Alain again looks out over the landscape, trying to see the guild that Nalia must see. He soon realizes that as long as he's in the company of an expertly skilled illusionist he doesn't need to imagine.

    "Have you thought about where you'll build? Could you show me what you picture it will look like?" Alain excitedly asks.

  10. #30
    The Aile Bones: The Island of Capios of the UnIncorporated Guild of Enchantry


    Nalia.jpg

    Nalia al'Vatar


    Nalia watched Alain struggle with the duality of the wild magik. Many men had been driven mad by the magik. Many were tantalized by it and some were simply afraid of it. Nalia wondered if Alain LeCavalier would be any of those men. But she watched him as he slowly came to terms with the magik he felt. She understood Capria’s logic behind placing Enchantry here. The magik had set up many natural defenses, the first among all being the odd sensations it caused to one who had not spent much of their life here. Capria, and many of her guild members, were descended of the Tiarna Wood and the peaceful portion of the wild magik was something they embodied. Their male counterparts, whose names were stricken from the world, were the more aggressive, dominant portion of the wild magik. The part Alain categorized as dangerous.

    Before he finished speaking, Nalia walked toward him. It was only a few feet of cold, moonlit sand between them, but it felt like an eternity of shoreline. This time, without asking, Nalia took Alain’s gloved hand. Tenatively, her palm slid into his and, as she spoke, her emerald eyes looked up at him. Her other hand began to remove his glove.

    "I have already begun" she confessed quietly. The wind blew constantly on the islands. Nalia looked down at Alain’s hand as each finger was gently worked free from the glove.

    "There are ruins here, among the rock, of very white stone. Its kind hails from the mountains in the Unsettled Lands. "

    With the fingers free, Nalia looks back up at Alain.

    "It is from the First Era of Rekōdo."

    There was no hiding the excitement in her voice. She knew exactly whose ruins these were and sought to pay tribute to that woman and her guild. She knew exactly how Enchantry looked before it was removed from the world and memory of everyone in Rekōdo. This was the one secret of Capios’s origin she could not share with Alain.

    "I intend to rebuild it."

    She paused in removing his glove to brush aside the dark curls that danced before her face. With a pale, elegant hand, she tucked them behind her ear. Her cloak whipped around her side, as if seeking to shelter them both from the cool, consistent wind. The air was colder down here than it was at the great heights of the Heli’Dom, but for what little she wore, Nalia did not shiver. Not once. She looked down at her task. She was being infinitely gentle with him.

    "Much of the stone lies intact within the waters around the island."

    What she confessed was a very dangerous thing. Sailors on these rocky waters had told many stories, some of beautiful things like merfolk, sea elves and golden fish. Some stories were of more horrible things, like kracken, sea dragons and sirens. For her to dive down into the waters here was unthinkable. Some might even venture to call Nalia al’Vatar reckless. He may still chastise her for that, but with his fingers free, Nalia tugged the glove off his flesh hand. She folded it in half within her palm and tucked it into the strong fold of the Guild Master’s gloved, stone hand. When she looked up at him, there was an emerald glow to her irises. Her palm, as it contacted his, was cold and smooth, like polished ivory. Nalia’s elegant hand fit perfectly within the weathered, strong lines of Alain’s.

    "Walk with me" she beckoned to him in a voice that was almost hypnotic. She led him forward, inland toward the steep climb of the mount. From her footfall a ripple of green spread outward. It moved before them as they walked and spread like a wave on the shore. As the sand melted into grass and rock and the terrain moved vertically, white stairs appeared before them. They were wide, clean and moved naturally with the mount as it climbed upward. Columns of chiseled white lined the stairs and long banners of emerald and black flapped in the salty wind. Even their sound was the perfect blend of flutter and snap. The touch of the stone was cold and gritty as all carved stone was. Nalia lead Alain up the stairs, following after the racing emerald ripple as it brought them to the top of the small mountain that was Capios. It was there, as they stopped beneath a welcoming arch of white stone that the Guild’s true home emerged before their eyes.

    "This is my vision" she whispered, pausing at the top of the stairs. "This is the haven of Capios."

    The mists parted. Before them was a great open area, tiled with colored stone in a large circular pattern. Around from the circle, different paths branched out. Some moved back down the mount toward other parts of the island. Some down lush hills to houses, shops, everything a city would need to thrive and survive. Some stone paths lead to cliffs that overlooked the waters. But down was not the only direction. Others moved upward to churning windmills that harbored the natural winds of the islands. There were gardens, benches, gazebos and rivers. Tall lampposts were illumined in the night with efficient duality of magical and wind energy. There were docks and harbors for ships and respectable temples, meditation places and areas of study correlated with all the known guilds of Rekōdo so that any who came here might find a small space of home within the city’s midst.

    But at the heart of the city were the Towers of Enchantry. Set atop the highest part of the mount, the city was jeweled with a white castle. The entrance was a tall, arching doorway. The windows were tall, allowing light to filter in. Some were stained glass, depicting the guilds. Seven. Enchantry was the 6th and the 7th was left blank in case another guild should seek to rise from Enchantry’s bid for independence. The domes housed great meeting rooms and libraries several stories high. Open archways led from one tower to another. One of the domes was a telescope, enhanced with a Totem ring of stone as wide as a small vehicle. Several were where the Totems would be housed and catalogued. One of the towers, the tallest, was solo of the others. That tower was hers and it gave her a view of the entirety of the sea and the dual provinces on either side of them. As it appeared before them, Nalia pointed and spoke of this grand vision to her mentor.

    It was truly beautiful and all of it build into the already existing peaks of the island-mountain. Patches of green mountainside popped from the areas of white stone. Sea cranes, white as the stone alighted and rested on the patches of green, tending to nests at the high, safe altitude.

    The arch above them read Enchantry, The City of Capios. The octagonal, tiled walkway spread out before them was a map of Emporium from pole to pole. Each point of the octagon honored the six guilds and the ruler of their fair Rekōdo, leaving an eighth spot blank. Nalia walked Alain onto that octagon. Nalia finished speaking of her city-guild and all its beauty and turned to look at Alain. She stood at two arm’s length from him, his and hers, as she’d been caught up in showing him before any other what she had imagined. Her curls danced across her lips and cheeks and she reached a hand up to push them away.

    "I welcome your thoughts, Alain" she said again, forgetting formalities here, in what would be her greatest accomplishment.

    "Is such a place worthy or your approval?"

    She was bestowing upon him a great honor. In her talk of Capios, more than once she had used the word beautiful. Nalia was not given to such elaborations. But truly this place was a haven of peace and looking upon that would drown out the feeling of danger that so hung over the mythic stories of these islands.
    Last edited by SilntAngl5; 06-09-2013 at 08:36 PM.

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