+ S P E N C E R +
Traveler. Magician. Dragon Rider. Swordsman. Librarian.
H u m a n // E l f
A g e l e s s - U n k n o w n
H e / H i m | T h e y / T h e m
S p i r i t ? D e c e a s e d .
N o K i n - A m o n g f r i e n d s .
“ You might be wondering
how this could have happened…”
Spencer knows little of his origin. Date of birth. Where he was born. What grounds he walked upon in his youth. He knows not of his father, not the color of his mother's eyes. Even the man's own name comes as a mystery he woke up without. The one he bares presently was something ... given, after he found himself awake midst a plane of grass he did not recognize, all the same. What Spencer did remember, however, was a sensation. The coldness, as it had grasped hold of him. It felt as if falling into an utterly heavy, yet peaceful sleep... He knew little of what he was, let alone who. He started walking. There was nothing else that could be done. He had risen in a prairie-esque plane that seemed to spread onward no matter what direction his head would turn. Spencer walked until he reached a point of familiarity in the form of a small village some thirty kilometers from the place he had woken up within. The village came with hospitality, yet held very few hints. No answers.
“ To decipher it was one thing.
Controlling it was another. ”
For the early years, the world was an undoubtedly strange place. He recognized nothing of his surroundings or sense of self. He slowly came to the realization that he was capable of things beyond the average man whether he liked it or not. The capabilities, in the earlier times... lacked any direction or control. The occasional passing through objects was a problem that shook him not long since he had woken up. His form was corporeal, yet at times, only loosely. It was truly as if his body and soul wrestled to commit between a physical or spectral form without any indication of what kept them tethered. It would happen in a bout of panic, or the wrong twitch of a muscle. Often he couldn't recollect what seemed to cause the shift and changed his form to something far less physical and very much... ephemeral in nature. It would come over him like a cold mist, and left a tingling sensation throughout his nervous system.
At first, it was just his fingertips. Then his wrists. Soon it was whole portions of his being that seemed to pass through its environment on a whim and leave him stricken with panic on how to make it stop, only to make matters worse. Spencer was stumbling straight through walls and phasing through objects on a whim during the early years of his newfound life, where the anomaly was creating more immediate questions than he had to start with. Among the strange symptoms, Spencer noticed how seldom he had felt exhaustion since he started waking. He walked for a few days from where he had started before he felt any urge to sleep, and hunger likewise. His body still felt the aches and pains of being alive, although it was as if it felt numb to what it truly meant. With every time he lost control of his form, the ends of his hair had quickly started to lose its color, spare a short length closest to the roots. These changes among others brought forth a rough transitional period where he struggled to have a grasp on anything around him. Eventually, these skills were to be trained with the right amount of mastery over the years.
like it was something given to the world. ”
Spencer had come to a point where he had lost all sense of what to do with his situation. Time dragged onward for longer than a lifetime, and he was faced with the realization of immortality that grew more evident as the number counted upward. He had traveled, he had remembered and forgotten countless names, and yet found no answers as to what had occurred. His nomadic life eventually took him South, across the seas and over mountains in pursuit of anyone that might offer information. His first encounter that could offer such things came from his passing through the bustling streets of Amsterdam in the early 1600s. He met a curious soul. The woman seemed to stare him down from a distance like she could sense just what he felt to be off about himself. She spoke questions and statements that felt like they were pulled straight from his head, and for the first time in his immortal life, he had answers.
“ You are a spirit, my dear boy. You are as real as this world around you, and yet this world does not own you. You will watch its trees rise and fall with each passing life. You shall experience beyond that of your fellow man. How will you use this gift? This curse? Will you choose to see it like so? ”
Natalia was a practitioner of magic, and most adept in her craft. She was the person to shed light on Spencer's spectral dilemma, possible heritage, and one of the few that looked at him like his claims were not outright insanity. She introduced him to her studies and assisted him in utilizing the magic that had been gifted at birth and recessive in his veins all those years. Spencer spent the next decade or so under her wing in Amsterdam, researching just what the nature of his origins might have been, and learning to utilize that magic for healing purposes when the world greatly needed it. When it came time to leave Amsterdam and continue on with his searching, he was promised a place in the city should he ever return, if he were to look for it.
To this day, he isn't sure what she is, or where her knowledge she possesses has come from. Any questioning throughout the years was met with riddles or parables to send him in circles. In the seldom times he finds himself in the region, he is sure to make his visit to the woman who has changed as little as he has over the centuries. She remains a mentor, good friend, and the first one to confirm he wasn't crazy all along. Following his departure from the Netherlands, he resumed his traveling for the next century or so, using what he had been taught at each stopping point as he went.
“ I paused only for a moment
to ponder what was asked of me. ”
Fate brought him into the Nightwing Empire where his nomadic life changed for the next several centuries. It was an accidental stumbling into where two-legged kind stepped foot merely on occasion and the territory seemed to span onward without an end. He soon came to learn that within it dwells dangerous creatures and beasts alike. Dragons commanded the air, with their dens settled within the mountains and deep within the chasms of its valleys. Warbeasts lingered within the darkest of the forested regions and the swamps of the neighboring lowlands. The region came not without conflict, whether it was between the beasts, or from the external influence of hunters, slayers, or militant forces alike. Although prone to friction, wartime, and hardly a peace-filled place, soon enough he called the mountains and trees of the regions as home. He fit in among the vast array of species with ease and called them as friends.
When fate would throw him into shock once more, Spencer eventually found himself worthy of being chosen as a Rider to one of the larger dragons within the Nightwing Empire. Chanook was someone who quickly had become familiar. While he had grown to no longer fear the dragon, Spencer ultimately came to regard him with the utmost respect. Due to his physicality, the man was not readily affected by the high altitudes, nor the storms that Chanook brought forth in flight. His first flights were among the more interesting moments during this era, but soon enough he had learned to stay steady in the sky with ease. Spencer set himself forth to become an excellent Rider and swordsman. With the skills learned, and the harsh environment the territory offered, Nightwing shaped Spencer as a formidable fighter when he would need it, and a peacekeeper at his core when he did not.
“ All truly great things come at a risk of being lost. ”
As the conflict would eventually come to pass, the territory now shows signs of its age and scars. The enemies have long departed. The hostile beasts settled their disputes, and all in all... with the conclusion of such hostile events, the territory was left with an odd amount of silence. The Empress came to rest at the bottom of one of Nightwing's lakes. Her second in command, Skya, rests in a shrine-like state deep in her mountain den. Spencer still watches over the late dragoness' horde of a library and doctors their pages in his passing time. Among the absences and tragedies, Spencer had been parted from his dragon for reasons that still remain unknown. He knows little of Chanook's whereabouts, nor his condition. While Riders generally feel sensations of their partner's wellbeing or status, he feels little other than emptiness when he attempts to reach out. His only hint is that the connection can still be felt, leading him to believe his dragon is out there. The thoughts weigh heavily on his mind to the point where Spencer has achingly resorted to trying not to think about it at all. He keeps his hopes up to see the dragon's return, just as long as the connection is still felt.
“ And so we march on.”
Following the fall of Nightwing, the man found himself in a period of travel that spanned several decades. Along with clearing his headspace, he was in pursuit of any hints or clues that may lead to Chanook's whereabouts no matter how small the chances might have been. The drawn-out journey nearly brought him across the Earth in doing so. The ex-Rider would pick up many other useful skills and mementos on his way. He heightened his mastery in a small variety of languages, as well as his study of healing magic that had been partially set aside during the last conflicts of the Empire. His traveling had become as much of a pilgrimage as it was a search for Chanook. He returned to hid home in Nightwing years later as a successful Swordsman, historian, and a more proficient Mage. Just as soon as he would settle, he also resumed his role as Librarian to the Nightwing collection as well as his own.
Thirty years have passed since Spencer returned to his home within Nightwing's Western edge of the territory, to which he comes and goes on occasion. Weapons of old battles have been set aside ever since. His shelves are littered with artifacts from his time spent traveling. A collection of books and magical supplies are stacked and housed just about everywhere to make the interior rather claustrophobic to newcomers. His home stands as something more likely to be found on accident than sought out, nestled in the trees. He resumes his studies rather diligently, hardly seen without a bag over his shoulder and a book within reach. His primary endeavor included fresh attempts at deciphering an old tome that had been entrusted to him by Skya prior to her passing.
“ I opened that book and Hell came from its pages. ”
The book was a gift. He didn't know the importance at the time the dragoness gifted it into his hands. Skya spoke of the discovery in her collection, like it could offer the wandering spirit of a man all the answers he had been hunting for so long. Her eyes had seen something he has yet to find in its conflicting, cryptic pages. The book's author is unknown. As to the writing contained inside, one page to the next is a labyrinth of coded twists and turns that would leave any linguist or philologist perplexed. Over the years the man had all but given up on the object that sat dusty on the shelf over his workbench. It served as an old memory for a friend that had eventually passed on without granting him any more secrets on why she had given it to him in the first place.
“ It's always the furthest corner, the overlooked space... if history hasn't erased it. Dark Arts and magical studies alike have not been a favorite of history. ”
The book also became a curse. It started with a visitor in the night that crept in through the shadows and coiled his hands around the cover. The man later revealed himself as a necromantic sorcerer named Marius. After their first meeting, it is apparent the stranger was not only after the book, but Spencer himself. The two have been entangled in a game of cat and mouse ever since. Every time Spencer gets a moment's rest, the black rolling clouds of the sorcerer's familiars creep closer to try and corner him. The chase has come to a point of exhaustion—the mage is forced to travel by day and find a light source to hide come night. The friends and allies that Spencer has reached out to for help are put in danger.
“I would swear to you or anyone else, before all of this, I don’t think we’ve met before.
All the more reason to find out what the book says, or…maybe all the more reason to not.
I’m running a little low on options to not try, in the least.” -Spencer to Raiya
No matter Spencer's demands, he hasn't gotten any answers from Marius about his true motives. He worries that the book has more secrets wrapped up in its guarded pages than expected. If he doesn't discover something about it in time, it might lead to his undoing.
“ I'll finish the war I never knew I started. ”
-WIP-
On his person, Spencer keeps a messenger bag slung over his shoulder that has considerable wear and tear to its edges. Despite this, the bag is laced with its own magical properties. A journal or two are usually kept to catalog what he comes across during his travels, along with writing materials. Precariously, the longsword he carried as a Rider is hidden within the bag and can be pulled out at a moment's notice, defying the physics of the small bag. A small array of weapons and other survivalist materials accompany it. A spare change of clothes or two is kept on standby. He keeps a spellbook handy with useful spells, diagrams, and incantations to assist, should he need them. He usually has a free-reading book, alongside the mysterious grimoire that has caused him misfortune over time. In more recent years, he also carries an outdated brick of a cell phone that he has no expertise in using.
+ Now Carrying :
[The Water Nation Handbook] [Lore of The Invictus]
[The ??? Grimoire] [Traveler's Spellbook] [Field Notes]
“ And so, I learned to walk tall...
but I walked taller among them than I ever was alone.”
RAIYA
“ Raiya will forever be Spencer's best friend when it comes to two-legged kind. She resided in Nightwing well before he ended up there, and the two grew attached at the hip once Spencer had taken the oath as a Rider. Having once been one herself, she was responsible for much of his advice while training, as well as the swordsmanship he honed during that era. The two have fought, struggled, and laughed, and are always up to something when they cross each other's paths. Rai has since moved on from the territory and runs her supernatural shop known as Omnia. Spencer pays a visit on sparse occasions, allowing the two to pick up their friendship right where it leaves off. Time has changed how often they might see one another, but some things never change.”
TEMPEST
“ Spencer had his hands full from the moment he first encountered the Water Drake. He was traveling the coast of Nightwing when Tempest came barreling in, and proved to be the first sign of anything draconic that Spencer had seen in countless years. Tempest is considerably younger than the dragons the Ex-Rider had been accustomed to. While testing his patience at times, the Drake has sparked some life back in the melancholic rider after the years spent alone in the territory. The two have since teamed up in their traveling when Temp was not the only thing that washed up from the shore: with great fortune came great dangers when the threat of a tsunami means that something else is looming under the sea floor, threatening Nightwing's main land. The task of getting to the bottom of the disturbance has paired the two together, and effectively dragged Spencer out of his element.”
CASSELLA
“ The woman had Spencer's utmost curiosity from the moment they spoke to one another. She was all the things he didn't expect to run into on accident, but in truth, Cass was someone wrongfully drawn into his troubles at a time when he might have needed her most. Following a run-in late at night at a library, the night was filled with mischief for survival-sake. It was also filled with chatter when he realized she was a linguist, scholar, mage, and plenty of other things he has yet to decipher. The two are now travel partners as she graciously offered her skills to help him in deciphering the book in his possession that has proven to be most dangerous. Spencer worries about the reprocaution of bringing another person into his personal troubles with the book. On the same token, so rarely does he travel with someone so formidable.”
NEMO
“ The two met by chance during one of Spencer's rare visits to the city, where the library doors closed early and had locked the two in for the night. After becoming acquainted while sneaking back out using Spencer's abilities to do so, it took the walk back to the boy's apartment to decipher that the two had something in common. While Spencer had studied magic for a large portion of his life, Nemo's skillset held more promise than he could imagine at such a young age. Despite how long the two could have visited and chatted, their meeting was relatively short that night. Lo and behold, the short meeting opened the door for a visit that would come a few years later when Spencer would need his assistance most [More to come].”
IRRLITH [NPC]
“ Irrlith was a visitor to Nightwing not from another continent, but from the outer edges of space. Not much is known about the beast aside from his origins being somewhere distant and the looming fact that Earth's gravity is what trapped him here after a crash landing many, many years ago. The space beast has taken up refuge in the territory after conflict with humans and remained for quite some time under the Earth Nation's ground when Nightwing grew dormant. That was, until recently, when Spencer and Tempest woke the behemoth from its slumber in order to help them with the task of keeping the beast's second home safe. Not much is known about Irrlith's origins or biology, but he seems to have a sense of trust toward Spencer who is always looking for what he can learn about the brute.”
CLOUDFEATHER [NPC]
“ No practitioner of magic is complete without a loyal familiar. Cloudfeather is a leucistic red tailed hawk that can often be seen in off in the distance whenever Spencer finds himself far enough from the cities for her to follow. The raptor is capable of flying miles on end when needed to deliver messages in times of need, or exchanges between Raiya and Spencer when they find themselves apart. Cloudfeather has a seemingly mystical connection with the man, when no matter where his travels take him she is bound to find where he is once called. The bird is clever beyond its appearance and reliable beyond measure. She leaves his side only when delivering, occasionally switching roles with Raiya's own hawk, Cyr.”
“ Until we meet again. ”
CHANOOK
“ To this day, Spencer still looks back in wonder to the moment where he had been asked to become a Rider. His partner was none other than Chanook, a dragon of rolling thunder and electricity that stood as a general among war beasts in Nightwing. While others knew him as a goliath, to his Rider, he was a lumbering beast at times and above all, his guardian and most trusted friend. The two spent their days nearby and fought wars by one anothers' side. Following the last conflicts of the territory, the two became separated and the man has carried a hole in his chest ever since. Spencer still believes that Chanook is out there due to the feint, yet present connection between the two that has not yet been severed. As a result, he has an occasional knack for dropping what he is doing at the slightest hint of a lead toward his whereabouts.”
ZORIKO
“ Having first gotten to know Zoriko as a hatchling, she is the daughter of Skya and a dragon of the sky underneath her human facade. The dragoness was someone Spencer had the privlege of re-acquainting with after his absence from the territory when she actively sought him out following the advice of another former Rider. After re-acquainting from when she was young, Spencer took upon himself the task of teaching her magic from the ground up, helping the young dragoness tap into the magic that flows through her veins just as his own mentor did for him. After some time of training together, the two eventually parted ways. To this day he hasn't seen Zoriko again, but thinks back to their magic lessons together fondly when it was a time that his house didn't seem quite as empty.”
SKYA
“ Spencer saw much of the dragoness during the height of Nightwing, down unto the end. Sibling to Chanook, Skya was second in command to the Empress and was a formidable force come times of conflict. However, Spencer knew her first and foremost by the library hidden deep within her den near the center of the territory. He was a trusted visitor over time and has been responsible for the upkeep and mending of the books within it for countless years. He knows every main twist and turn to reach the hidden collection, down to the dragoness' den. Since her passing, the room has erupted with plant life, where she remains in a shrine-like state to present day. He vows to keep up his work of guarding the collection under her keep for as long as he is able.”
NOVAK
“ The two first met in the earlier years of Spencer's settling in Nightwing as a crossing of paths, and they would come to meet again by the time the territory grew dormant. To the deities and spirits that had their eye on Novak, Spencer's spiritual nature being present was a trigger for alarm. Little did they know that their meeting would turn into a chase that would lead them to a chase that sent them cross-continent. The end of their trek lead them straight into the Underworld in order to settle the issue once and for all. As fate was never kind to either men before meeting, things hadn't gone as planned. What the spirit gained was his life and peace from being pursued. What he lost was the friend that had his back through it all. Spencer isn't sure what happened to Novak in the end, or whether he still exists somewhere in the realm below. The thought weighs heavily on his mind.”
Active Threads & OOC :
Tempest | Water Nation Temple | "Did you say a sorcerer?"
Cassella | Melbourne, State Library Victoria | "He's gone..?"
Raiya | Letters via Hawks | "I'm so happy to see you."
Unity (AU) | On The Highway | "Who's side are they on?"
This character originates from around 2011-2012, and much of the lore and stories told originate from events written within that timeline until now. As a writer, especially with Spence here, I'm fairly lenient with response times. He is a 'support' character primarily, but I have a few goals I would like to finish in his plotline yet. Great starting locations include libraries, cafes, big cities, transit the woods, natural landmarks... although I can put Spencer anywhere, he has versatility in settings and can be made as modern or medieval as I need to (for the most part).
FC: Nariman Malanov
" I'm trying to die happy someday
Heaven, let me come stay?
What would it cost
How would I pay?
Please just, save me a place
Tired and I'm awake. "
Comments
The man stood still, only for a moment but it felt longer as he stared at the ghost in disbelief. An eerie spill of chuckle escaped the shadow of a man, shock mixed into disbelief.
"You don't remember me?" He murmured incredulously. The dryad felt the shadow of the god of death gripping his shoulder, enticing him to turn his pain to rage to finish the task at hand. In another moment, his sword unsheathed, what felt like an eternity in hell made his sword feel lighter on the surface. His movements were quick and sudden, pushing forward in short, aggressive bursts.
"You don't recognize your own brother's sacrifice at death's door!?"
“So when or if he gets here, it’s scorched Earth.” Their younger guest commented after listening to both, albeit it in a quieter, more emotionally deprived tone. It was a hard pill to swallow; just as he and Spencer had gotten to what seemed like a great sanctuary, there was already a massive amount of trouble brewing on their horizon, and the thought of it left an expression of defeat plastered across his face. If they couldn’t subdue Rourke even with Irrlith’s aid, what chances did they have against that kind of monster?
Hearing about the possibility of an archive made Tempest perk up with interest, which could provide evidence for, plus a mountain of history about his pod that he probably never knew of. This was an opportunity the sea drake could not refuse. His chest puffed outward some when straightening his stance. “When it’s convenient, I wanna take a look in that Library. But~”
Turning his gaze toward Yuna, he continued,
“I’m going to need a translator IF you have a little free time since those books are probably in a language I don’t know. If you want something in return for it, I’m more than willing.”
Once that subject was over, the amphibious reptile pulled his head back some, grimacing at what was just said. Both jade green irises drifted toward the floor at the realization of how hopeless their situation was. If her mother was gone, what chance did they have?
“In times like this, I’d normally turn to my best friend who always had a plan and knew a thing or two about this kind of stuff… Finding him would take way too long.” Said the wingless drake, who found himself thinking long and hard on this matter, rarely was he ever put in such a spot with an impossible situation.
“Maybe some kind of weapon of mass destruction? All I can think to try is luring Vyron to the surface and letting Irrlith light him up with everything he’s got. Strongest thing I can MAYBE throw at him is Plasma Breath at the surface. It’s a trick where you use aquamancy to separate the Hydrogen and Oxygen molecules, then heating one of them up to super-hot gases that make a beam. But that’s pretty advanced magic I barely know to use.”
His body hit the rocky ground with a rough thud. A groan escaped the elven dryad as he rolled over, heaving himself up with shaky knees. Pain shot down his spine, gritting his teeth as he winced. "....Again." Novak murmured indignantly, realizing he was back where he started. His raiment was tattered at the hem and covered in dust from swimming through souls.
"Are you not exhausted? Why not give in?" A voice rang behind him, a young man in a dark robe with black wings swaying behind him.
Novak froze, a face that he barely recognized, one that felt like eons since they last made an appearance. "...What are you doing here?"
"Im here to give you an offer." The god of death didn't waste time in idle chatter. "Bring down the one that was meant to take your place, and I will grant you passage to the surface."
There was no hesitation needed. "Yes, I'll do it." Desperation laced his voice, freedom after what felt like an eternity in the Underworld.
"Then, begin." Were the last words Novak heard, and when he blinked, for the first time in many many years, he felt a crisp breeze and the warmth a bright, sunny day. The dryad fell to his knees, despite that fact he could breathe fresh air, his connection to nature was lost and he was destined to attempt to kill his oldest friend. The thought made his tired, dark eyes well up in tears. Death still clung to his form, he wasnt truly alive anymore despite the flutter in his chest. He knew what he had to do after a moment of pensive, exhausted contemplation. Wearily, Novak rose to his feet and made his way toward the grounds of Nightwing.
-----
Home, every inch of the forest was familiar to elven dryad, the closer he grew to his target, the more his heart sunk. Novak's movements were calculated after finding Spencer's footpath, as if this was just another exursion to hunt down monsters with his faithful horse. And then, he caught sight of the ghost, Novaks chest ached. He longed to hug and cry in his brother's arms, feeling and his arms and legs grow suddenly weak. Tears rolled down his cheek, gritting his teeth and clenching the hilt of his sword, a scream choked down in his throat. Novak reminded himself again and again on his way here of the plan he hoped to accomplish, and knew this was the only way all of this would have to end. In his mind, he apologized quietly to Raiya, knowing how much she would detest what would happen next.
The ghost would feel an encroaching shadow of malicious intent, it adeptly moved with the wind, followed by the sound of rushing footsteps, and a hand clasping the specter's shoulder from behind.
An elbow was once again propped onto the table, and the side of Raiya's face settled into an open palm. Her attention was drawn away from the notebook while Spencer spoke of the last meeting, and a sharp breath expelled through her nose was the response granted to Spencer’s closing comment about Skya. It was a sound constructed with a degree of humor, and followed with a hum of contemplation. “We could mull over the ‘what ifs’ and ‘why’s’ for the rest of our lives and still may not come close to the reason behind Skya’s choices. Perhaps it simply goes to show that even the wisest of us can suffer oversights, or unfinished business before they pass on.”
Raiya leaned back into her seat. Her legs extended beneath the table while her arms stretched over her head, permitting a second hearty, full-body stretch that resulted in a minor wince as a pop was coaxed from her right shoulder. “I doubt Skya would intentionally leave you scrambling for answers, but perhaps she knew something we didn’t.”
A quiet creak was coaxed from the old, weathered wood as a deeper backwards descent elevated the chair’s front legs off of the ground. Raiya placed her trust in the chair’s integrity, and interlaced her fingers into a cradle for the back of her head. The elf stared up at the ceiling with softened features and eyes that gradually grew more distant while her thoughts wove through the silence. The tense countenance she held during the worrisome discussions of before had dissipated, and for the first time in a while, her mind felt free to drift at a leisure pace.
“You know,” Raiya finally mused, tonalities shifting with an upward tilt. “--Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I were to place that stone enchantment on what remains of Skya. Would that bring her back, or would that simply animate the stone?”
“Trinity- had abilities that were beyond science. Any attempts at understanding how they worked always failed. That isn’t to say Cybertronians don’t have their own superstitions.” On their way out, that next question made him halt abruptly in thought, his expression becoming blank as his head turned ever so slightly toward the anomalous man.
“I did, for both her and Clarion, she was a human girl I personally took in.” His tone was a heavy one while answering, and this was a first since Unity hadn’t spoken about them to anyone. For now, they’d have to push on. The Mage’s hunch was right: There was something he longed for. Maybe when things were more calm, they could discuss it more. Both had a mission to fulfill, and if either was to accomplish anything, they needed to go through with this.
. . .
“Far, very far. We’re miles off the east coast of New Zealand.”
Crouching down, his left servo reached down to his hip to retrieve a pair of electronic binoculars. Placing it in front of his own optics, he visually inspected more of the complex in case of any nasty surprises waiting for them. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem too well defended, though it did make him question if there were any defenders inside the first structure.
“Now you’re getting the picture.” The white mech said in response to Spencer’s comment regarding a whole society. It was true, these bots had far more in common with humanity than initially thought. Even the way they moved seemed natural, with some verbally issuing orders to others for various tasks. Two could even be seen having a conversation way off to the side.
“Hard to say without taking a crack at it. If that’s something you can really do, it’s worth a try.” After listening to the man’s proposal, he decided to take him up on that offer/suggestion. Although these were just mere workers, it was still a lot of enemies to contend with, and if they could avoid an all-out brawl, Unity would take that option.
“Carrying you to the building shouldn’t be an issue. I brought a few boosters that’ll keep me above the surface. If no one is paying attention to a particular side, we should be able to sneak up on them. Let’s go.”
Scooping up the rider in one arm and placing him onto his shoulder, the rogue Autobot quietly stepped across that paved road. On the side facing away from the structure, he found a support column that would obstruct their opponents’ view. Using it as cover, said bot climbed over and allowed himself to free fall before his back-mounted thrusters flared to life with a bright green and white aura, rapidly slowing their descent to avoid a splash.
Now only mere feet from the surface behind the bridge support, he poked his head out from behind cover to be sure none were watching that side. Soon, Unity began hovering his way there, thankfully the boosters created very little sound since they were not conventional rockets by any means. His stance was kept wide, blaster rifle in hand in case of trouble. Luckily for them, no laborers were watching.
“If someone’s about to see us, use one of your tricks to create a distraction elsewhere if you have any.”
Within moments, they’d arrive at the base of the structure. Spencer was held up within arms reach of the wall, his robotic companion hovering there. “Hurry, before someone spots us…” He whispered, keeping his optics fixated on the flat roof above while activity was heard.
Should the Mage attempt to phase through that outer wall, it was only a few feet thick, heavily reinforced for explosive resistance but still passable. A very large enclosed room was waiting on the other side for them, big enough for even Unity to stand if getting him in was possible.
Excuse me sir, can I have some maple syrup please?
Said four-legged being got awfully quiet when he felt the place seemingly shake underfoot. How someone smaller than him managed to accomplish such a thing was proof that she probably wielded more potent magic than he could imagine. There were no further words from him, especially after the Rider addressed him by name. He had no clue what that foreign phrase from Rourke was, and wondered if it was some kind of insult.
A shame they didn’t bring Irrlith along.
The wingless European drake listened closely as the female Monarch explained how strange it was for them to arrive in one piece, allegedly. One could only begin to imagine how many souls that Angler Drake probably murdered, making him question in his mind why she kept him around. Still, he focused on her explanation regarding adversaries, which caught his attention even more. This- got him thinking again, about all those stories Mel once shared with him, on their pod came to be, and he had some suspicions.
Alas… an answer on why a massive Tsunami had struck on the day he and Spencer met was finally given, prompting him to perk up. From the sound of it, this situation was beyond catastrophic from what they described, and it left Tempest with a seemingly blank expression. This only raised more questions as he pondered on what to say, or how to express the weight of this crisis.
“Figured it was something living that did it. So you got a traitor whose awakening alone caused that much mayhem? If just being freed did that, I can’t begin to imagine what kind of power that monster has-” The sea drake commented, dipping his head down briefly, only to raise it and face Yuna again.
“Guess it begs the question: Who broke the seals? Someone would’ve needed to do that for him, whoever that third party is.” Tempest said, “What happens if he’s not stopped? Because Nightwing fell apart, is anyone even living in the Earth Nation? Or is there no risk of lives lost if he goes through with his mission? ASSUMING he’s only interested in that and not coming back to the Water Nation and destroying everything.”
After a few seconds, the water drake clad in blue shook his head, both jade green orbs shutting, as if something was bothering him.
“Maybe I should just come clean… Yuna, did you or your mother ever have a mass exodus of drakes who looked just like me? And may or may not have turned you in doing so? Well, I’ve been thinking about the tales Uncle Mel once told me, and there’s no way it's a coincidence. I’d hate to say it, but my own bloodline might've been a part of that faction, just so they could abandon the Nation.”
What followed was a moment of silence as his head lowered, knowing this subject may only complicate matters.
“If it was my own who contributed to the problem of Vyron, then- I have to take the sins of my ancestors upon myself and make this right. Yeah, I can’t be blamed for something my elders did back then, but I don’t want my pod to be remembered for all their wrongs. The least I can do is help find some kind of way to end this nightmare for your kingdom, and redeem my pod’s name on their behalf.”
With this revelation came a long, audible exhale at the massive burden he felt was on his shoulders. He could only hope it didn’t make Yuna see him any differently since /his/ family leaving more than likely caused a shortage of firepower. His head rose up again, gazing at the female ruler right in the eye with determination coursing through him.
“What would it take to defeat Vyron?”
Oh, she did not anticipate the realization to set in as fast as it did.
Cassella felt her heart drop in between intermittent silences, twitching fingers settled upon the sheets not enough to be its cradle. That was more than enough answer for her to ruminate in, a merciless punctuation to all hopes and dreams that an old era might have brought to everyone else involved. She merely saw the very outskirts and there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary– just what kind of lasting, festering destruction lay beyond the thicket, beyond ruins, if anyone looked deeper?
There was the promise of seeing it all with her own two eyes, however. The slight warmth of an assurance that there will be good people that remained, waiting to be met.
The woman figured that for a bizarre day that started way earlier than it should, all of these answers were more than enough.
“No problem with that option, I can just…” There was a pause as she stared at Spencer. Half a squint, knee-deep in thought. “Hey! We can just go full vegetarian tonight.” She seemed pretty happy with the decision made on a whim, trigger-happy fingers tapping away to freedom. There were a few minutes spent with just her on the phone, ticking anything eye-catching, appetizing. With that all set for the wait, it can be noted that she was starting to look around for the rest of her things.
“The others in your list I may need to look somewhere, some places here look promising. But I think I still got some dried mugwort...”
Once more she gravitated to where her bag was, sifting through various things as her arm went deeper inside the leathery aperture. “I have a sibling that insists that I bring some along for safer travels. Not that it has ever protected me from anything and I just sleepwalk harder when I smoke it, but I'm still in one piece on some bad days so I guess it kinda works?” She proudly dragged out a ziplock bag half-choked with clustered dried herbs that looked way greener than it should. Pale hands hastily pushed that back in as she rummaged some more, finally pulling out another bag– this time with the proper label attached. “Aha, a hundred grams, give or take, would that be enough? Please, take all of it. With all this running you’ll probably need it more than I do.”
. . .
With a flutter of linen skirts and her bare feet pittering against the wood, Cassella was already rushing down the stairs to meet the delivery the moment her phone went off– almost as fast as the night they first went running for their lives. The only difference was that she wasn't terrified this time – if anything she was determined to guide their night’s tour speedrun to a food coma, her excitement evident even as she left. It took a fair bit of waiting for the rest, and finally, she emerged breathless from the stairs, excited past the swinging door when she returned with armfuls of paper bags and boxes, prattling about contemporary vegetarian cuisine, and the reviews. Something about Gourmet Traveller and beating up Michelin, whoever that unfortunate somebody is.
To anyone who wasn’t fully versed with the complications of modern fine dining, none of that perhaps made sense. It didn’t have to, it didn’t matter.
The promised pizza was there. Maybe not as big as she originally thought of getting, considering that there was no shortage of a variety of things that she haphazardly ordered. Her only excuse was that it was not supposed to be this heavy, but the assortment of salads, rolls, thin wraps and stuffed vegetables would beg to differ. The little dining table was occupied with a tiny bit of everything before she knew it.
“Write about it to your folks,” she squawked. The woman was clearly not skipping the ice-cold drinks and the desserts in sets of little flimsy cups. “By some chance you end up in this region again, you’ll have a good idea of what to get.”
Maybe someday you're not running all the time. Maybe by then, you can drag your friends along.
Spencer's response was one shrouded with thinly-veiled discomfort. Raiya's curiosity was piqued at the span of hesitation before his reply, yet for the time being, she ultimately placed the blame upon his exhaustion.
"I see. Perhaps Chanook does know something. As if we needed further reason to find him." Raiya's eyes gave a leisure flick towards the unicorn statue that laid near the front door. "If it brings you any further assurance, it's enchanted like the gargoyles of Omnia. There hasn't been a single twitch in the few days I've been here. That being said--" The raven rose to her feet and took a second to stretch out. A yawn was stifled into the back of her hand before her train of thought continued. "--It is safe to rest here if you need to, you can use the cot over there if you'd like to get some sleep. I'll map out our path in the meanwhile."
Raiya made her approach towards the back corner of the small room, aiming to retrieve the bag that was still resting beside the aforementioned cot. Her hand graced upon the top of Spencer's head and offered a gentle ruffle as she passed him by.
"One thing that gets me about your whole ordeal is that you may have possibly been kind enough to allow Marius to see the book had he just asked about it. It's baffling, really, how intentional he seems about harming you instead of just simply stealing the book." Raiya thought out loud while she moved. The elven brought the bag back to the table and returned to her prior seat, then placed the bag on the ground between her feet and began to rummage through it until she found her notebook and a small leather scroll where her pens were wrapped away. The pages of that notebook matched the pages used to write the letters. Raiya's meandering train of thought continued, simply musing aloud at this point.
"Perhaps he sees you as a threat, or competition of some sorts. Or maybe he truly is just a simple "bite first, sniff later" type of dog. It's a long shot, but is there any chance at all that he could have known you, or known of you before you even found the book?"
Spencer's subtle quarrel with the grid did not go unnoticed. Raiya shifted a knowing side-along glance towards him, and a shadow of a smirk dawned at his expense. No verbal comment was made in its regard. Had the circumstances been different, however, a lighthearted jest would have surely been made. Raiya was prepared to offer aid, yet the technology finally adapted to the cold touch and began to react at the ghost’s command.
The elven watched while Spencer analyzed the map and added his contemplative remarks. Her nature despised a true gamble; Raiya preferred to rely upon experience, on knowledge, and on scrutinizing the scenarios with the intent to produce maps that lead to outcomes with the highest survivability. This mission was all a mayhap that was built on their own endurance and faith against multitudes of variables that were beyond their control. The tips of Raiya’s fingertips subconsciously rose and rested against her lip while she became entirely transfixed on the map.
Think.
Surely they were missing something. An easier path, an obvious solution, an unexplored direction that was illuminated by promise and hope.
Think.
The elves were no strangers to unattainable goals and impossible outcomes. So why does this feel so difficult?
Think, gods be damned.
“I’m glad you found time for your magic —”
The diversion in topic was a tug back to the present, and it prompted a blink and an abrupt turn of her head. Sharp features were lifted with surprise, then momentary curiosity, then softened into a smile. Raiya hummed in agreement.
“The Old Magic is still very much alive, even with how the world has changed.” Tonalities came with a much more calm air than before, fitted with a touch of nostalgia that was only just tangible.
Raiya’s eyes fell onto her hand, which opened with her palm facing skyward. The air between her splayed fingers began to shimmer with wisps of iridescent blue. It lifted into a mist and wafted into a small, delicate sphere that rotated only but a hairsbreadth over her palm.
That shimmer, the mist, the soul and staple of Raiya’s natural-born abilities. Such was this old, versatile magic that had served as countless shields, countless weapons, and countless binds and barriers that ensured the survival of many. It was the first form of magic that Raiya had learned to weld, and the one that had followed her through the centuries.
“It still wants to help, you know. It still cares for us.”
The wisps broke free from the spherical formation and proceeded to slither ‘round and between her fingers in a steady, gentle motion. Not once did the mist touch Raiya’s skin, no matter how close it came. It simply faded out into nothing, and Raiya emitted a quiet sigh. Her elbow was placed upon the table, and the side of her face settled into the open palm and angled to present her attention towards the ghost.
“What pulled you through during your search for answers? How did you ultimately shake off Marius?”
-
1
-
2
-
3
-
4
-
5
of 22 Next