RP:Lycoris in Larket
Summary: After being granted safe passage through Larket, Quintessa and Karasu convene in the Royal Academy to make use of it's plentiful resources and discuss their somewhat converging expectations for next steps.
Witchcraft Research Department
The Larketian Academy of Magic leads Lithrydel on the obscure subject of witchcraft. The Witchcraft Research Department is arranged on the ground floor of an Academy turret that was once primary used for lycanthropy research. The space has been re-purposed for more modern concerns. In the center of the circular floor is a spacious, clean laboratory filled with witchcraft artifacts, both items that aid in witchcraft spells, and items already enchanted by witches. Mage researchers perform tests on these items to discover how witchcraft differs from arcane, druidic, and divine magic. Encircling the laboratory are several offices, a topical library, and three smaller observation rooms for witchcraft in action with appropriate wards to prevent catastrophic accidents. A staircase tucked against the wall descends to the witchcraft detection radar room.
Quintessa was happy to discover the reception in Larket was a warm one- more so when she finally made her way over to the Larket Academy of Magics and they all but rolled out the red carpet for her. A personal meeting with the Headmaster was all in order, but first Quintessa wanted to take a look at the facilities. She requested access to a small laboratory in the Witchcraft Research Department, and considering her newfound feud with the Red Witch Valrae, the Larketian academics were all too eager to abide- provided that any of her research into combating witches was shared. Quintessa’s real intentions were much more mundane, however; she just wanted a space to conduct her own personal research and the laboratories here more closely resembled the ones in her castle than the other ones in the Academy. Many of the changeling’s techniques involved witchcraft so the tools and artifacts they kept in this wing proved useful to her, even when it came to matters unrelated to witchcraft. Currently Quintessa was using the station allotted to her for Necromancy, trying to scribble down the forbidden knowledge imparted to her by Caluss on scrolls. For at least a couple of hours she’s been like this, singularly focused with a quill in hand. She might not even notice if someone entered the room quietly…
Karasu was feeling rather less than enthused when word got back regarding Quintessa’s newfound position at the Academy of Magics, and even less impressed when Quintessa had informed her that she would be taking up a residency with them as well. Despite her harsh words to her half-sister just some months ago, Karasu had had no intention of being in the same city as Kaaname, let alone in the same room. However, Karasu is prideful and paranoid, and would sooner swallow her own sword than allow Quintessa to be in danger by being alone with the telemancer. The spellblade enters the spacious communal laboratory that Quintessa has already made her own with discarded sheets of incomplete runic formulas and crumpled quill-testing papers. She is dressed in a blend of formal military-style clothing and armor that allows her to deflect incoming blows… just in case, of course. Stepping on the balls of her feet, Karasu slips around the pulled out chairs until she is sitting just next to Quintessa, a bouquet of red spider lilies bunched in one hand, and her annotated Minor Book of the Dead in the other. Ruby eyes give the paper Quintessa is filling out a quick scan before flickering back to the pale woman’s face. “Is this place really safer than your own fortress to be writing these things down in?” The disapproval in her voice is evident, which does little to mask the concern underneath. Should Quintessa look over, Karasu would offer the poisonous flowers over.
Quintessa blinks away from her work, her quill moving to rest in her inkwell as she sighs and sits back in her chair. She takes a moment to rub her eyes and yawn before she offers Karasu a weak smile, mismatched eyes flickering down to her parchment to read a few passages. “Have you read any of it? ‘Trickery takes the world for granted.’ ‘The legend of the raven's roar brings both pleasure and pain.’ ‘A late night tells the tale of towers.’ It’s all nonsense, my love. Nonsense that only makes sense to those unfortunate enough to be twisted by Its own hands…” Quintessa shifts to face Karasu proper, her smile growing in energy as she takes the flowers. “Lycoris radiata!” the changeling gasps. “You know how much I adore lilies. Thank you, my love.” She admires the flowers for a moment before her gaze returns to study Karasu more closely, her smile slowly fading. “Something is bothering you,” She doesn’t even have to ask. “I suppose it makes sense… You don’t have to stay, you know? I’ll understand if you want to make this visit short.” Quintessa offers her fiancee a reassuring smile. “I can handle the political side of our little empire just fine by myself.”
Karasu squints as she examines the passages more closely. Thank goodness. Even though she knew Quintessa better than most anyone else, she could never be too careful when it came to things like this. “How about ‘beware the love that blooms amongst the corpse flowers’?” She teases as she hands them off. Though her smile is faint when she does this, it fades when Quintessa’s own fails. “Everything is bothering me, Quintessa. I know the bare bones of necromancy in theory, but have not been able to make anything manifest by necromantic magic in the past month. If something were to happen to you again, I need to be able to act on my own. I need to catch up to your necromantic abilities quickly. Being a good spellcaster or swordsman isn’t good enough anymore.” As she says this, her grip tightens on her book. “The world is changing fast, and I need to keep up.” In no small part due to everything that Caluss unleashed amongst those she once trusted.
Quintessa allows herself to become serious for a moment, setting the flowers aside next to her inkwell. She thinks about what Karasu said for a while, considering what she could do for her. It wasn’t so long ago Quintessa too struggled with necromancy, some of the finer points not clicking immediately with spellblade techniques. Khitti had helped the changeling back then but that wouldn’t be an option at this moment, Quintessa had to help Karasu herself. She had to be a real teacher now. “I’ll help you catch up as best as I can,” she mutters, her tone subdued. When Quintessa looks back over Karasu it’s different. She’s appraising the demi-feline. “You need to pick a focus and stick to it. I know in the Mage’s Guild things are more formulaic. You have to build a universal base of arcane knowledge for the rest to work. Necromancy is different- It’s more diverse. A poison-maker has little in common with a soul-bonder, yet I am both. The Dark Arts are something you have to find your intuition in. You have to discover what works for you.” Quintessa cracks a smile, a prideful one indicating she could see Karasu’s potential. “Luckily for you, you have me to guide you. The Jubaku no Kijo- you’ve been carrying it around, no? How do you like the feel of it? I’m sure you’ve sensed the magic of my cursed blade while in your possession.”
Karasu props her head up on one hand, borrowing part of Quintessa’s desk to rest her elbow on. There is another disapproving hum as she pulls her elbow to one side to see that the metal of her armor has not scuffed the polish of the artisanal Larketian wood. Even in this part of the school that has been hidden away from most, no expense has been spared. For some reason, this idle observation only serves to sour her mood further as her brows dip down. “My intuition is generally wrong.” Karasu mutters bitterly. “I think my energy would best be put to use in the topics of curses and sigils right now, as it seems like the easiest of the topics to understand for me from what I’ve read so far.” At the mention of the cursed sword, Karasu gives a soft hum, her tail swishing as she thinks. “It’s strange. For all intents and purposes, it seems like an ordinary sword, and yet while I’m carrying it, I swear I can hear things I normally would not be able to. Just yesterday, I almost turned the fortress upside down searching for the source of distant screaming, but the second I unfastened the sword from my side, it stopped. It's like the grudges of those whose souls are trapped in the sword are just barely contained by the spell containing it.” Her eyes flicker back up to Quintessa. “Do you suppose this will hurt our tightrope-bound relations with Lanlan back in Xalious? No doubt that any chance of friendship with Valrae has been severed, but Lanlan is still in a position to fire us.” With that same sour expression, she adds, “Not that we’d be losing much, I suppose.”
Quintessa nods softly at Karasu’s self-assessment, both on the matter of her intuition and her decision that delving into curses was the best path forward. “It is unwise to rely too much on intuition anyway…” She lets that thought sit on the backburner as Karasu describes what it was like for her to carry the Jubaku no Kijo around, the mention of screams causing a curious gleam to shine in her mismatched eyes. “Screaming?” Quintessa can’t help but grin. “It must be trying to tell you something but you weren’t listening- how could you know to listen?” The changeling’s hands tremble as she contains her excitement. “It’s no ordinary sword, I can assure you. It drinks the mana from the environment, sometimes the wielder, almost always from those it strikes… I never put a soul into it like I planned to- finding the right one is difficult, but in the meantime the sword has grown envious and vengeful of the living for having their own.” Quintessa laces her fingers together so her hands stop shaking. “The Jubaku no Kijo tasted Valrae’s blood, Karasu. What do you think that means for her future? Lanlan’s on the other hand is much more nebulous- he’ll work with us if it means saving his reputation. I think I can convince the Archmage to negotiate, if not for my job at least for yours. I have already demonstrated my political prowess here in Larket, have I not?” She gives her partner a playful smirk. “I’m more concerned about what a conversation with Kasyr or Kanaame will look like should we run into one of them.” Her smirk fades away as she finally decides on something she was thinking about. “Well,” she begins, indicating she was changing the subject back to necromancy. “I agree, curses and sigils are your best path forward. In fact, I say it’s high time I taught you the Way of the Hexblade. It is not so different from the spellblade techniques.”
Karasu can barely contain a laugh as Quintessa trembles like a kitten that knows it's about to land the perfect pounce. “It’s that exciting to see me interacting with it?” The spellblade narrows her eyes at the mention that the semi-sentient sword is now eager to take Valrae down. “You don’t suppose the sword is going to try…?” She does not finish the thought, instead letting Quintessa tease her and change the subject with a soft, genuine smile. “Hmm…” Karasu says inquisitively. When she opens her mouth, another voice interjects. “An interesting path it is. Are you being careful not to overestimate the extent of your abilities now that you’re relying on your own power?” The spellblade’s demeanor, which had finally begun to relax, tenses up again. The bronze hematite scarab Odhranos gave her is still active. He can’t do anything here. Karasu takes a deep, slow breath, then turns to look at Kaaname. There is no warmth in his smile, nor is there any in her returned strained one. Long has Kaaname shed the guise of still being human, looking to be not much older than Khitti or Valrae in his vampiric form. “Are you perhaps still too cowardly to wring your sacrificial lamb’s neck with your bare hands now that she’s human again?” Karasu asks with a coy tilt of her head, making sure to do it just enough so that Kaaname can see the permanent black mar on the left side of her face. Kaaname does not give Karasu the satisfaction of an answer to her quip, instead turning his cool smile on Quintessa. “Congratulations on your promotion, Magister. I take it everything the Academy has provided has been to your liking?”
Quintessa nods her head slowly and deliberately. “Aye, I think the Jubaku no Kijo will try something eventually. An inevitable clash between us…” There was more the changeling wanted to say in this moment about it, but Kaaname had joined them and there was a similar shift in Quintessa’s demeanor as her mismatched eyes flicker over to meet him. “Speak of Elazul and Khasad shall follow.” She mutters, unconsciously straightening up her seat as if she were a student in his class again. Before Quintessa responds to her future father in law, she places a hand on Karasu’s wrist, giving her a small squeeze of reassurance. Already Kaaname was inflicting his old abuse on his daughter, treating everyone in the room as more worthy of his attention than she was. Quintessa wouldn’t allow her to be shunted out of the conversation like that. “The privilege of being Magisters has served us both well, don’t you think, my love?” She gives a soft smile to the demi-feline before her expression hardens to face Kaaname. “Thank you, Provost Tsuji.” The flat line her lips were making cracks into a mischievous smirk, “The Larket Academy of Magics has exceeded my expectations. I admit, I once thought of this city as a backwater but visiting it in the last few days has been enlightening.” Her smirk grows into a smile with a coldness that mirrors Kaaname’s. “Tell me, how have you fared since moving from Xalious to live here? Your devotion to Vakmatharas is no doubt more appreciated- even if the Larketians are apostates compared to the faithful back in Vailkrin.”
Karasu bares her fangs as Kaaname effortlessly agitates his daughter by stonewalling her out of the conversation. The gentle, cold touch from her fiance is met with a slow exhale, and Karasu resumes her neutral expression. “It really has been a blessing. Amazing how easy it was to master the basics of arcana once the guild stopped being so wrapped up in petty scandals.” Kaaname only regards Karasu with a sideways glance before nodding in return at Quintessa’s praise of the Academy and Larket in general. “Hm. I believe that many Mage Guild students have fared well upon coming abroad to Larket for their studies. These people are certainly nonconformist in their methods of worship, but I believe Vakmatharas would consider their devotion to Him to be true. They are certainly better followers than that new sect your human friend in the Necromancer’s Guild has been attempting to establish.” This time, it is Karasu’s turn to grip Quintessa’s wrist in reassurance. Karasu levels a glare at Kaaname. “That’s Auxilia Veneficius Hergelzer to you. I suppose Vakmatharas will decide who the better follower was when it's time for you to follow him into the next world.” The air is as dense as the Fog Forest’s mists with the amount of tension brewing between the three. The bell tolling the end of the Academy’s recreational period rings out, extinguishing the conversation. Kaaname looks from Karasu to the scarab beetle atop her head, whose hematite eyes have begun to glow red. “A theological discussion will have to wait for another day.” Kaaname's thin lips curl upwards as he looks down at the two mortals.
Quintessa glowers at Kaaname as he looks down upon them, her gaze trying to pry the reason he showed himself to them here today. Perhaps it was simply to goad them, to let them know he knew they were there and was watching them. When the bell rings she sighs, a bit disappointed she wouldn’t get to retort with her own opinions of Vakmatharas. “Perhaps one of these days I’ll come visit your home if that's the case.” The tone in Quintessa’s voice is one that suggests she might not come for that debate but rather something more violent. “To talk, of course.” Quintessa’s eye flickers over to spot the scarab’s glowing gems and she narrows her own eyes at the vampire. “None of us here would want to jeopardize our relationship with the city, right?” Her slender fingers flex a bit, her mana surging just under the surface, ready to explode in reaction to whatever Kaaname might be planning. ‘He would be a fool to fight us… To take on two magisters at the same time…’ Quintessa doesn’t believe her future father in law has the gall, but her paranoia makes letting her guard down impossible.
Karasu sets her jaw as Kaaname’s smile takes on a condescending smirk for just a hair of a moment. Perhaps it was a trick of the light as several students pass by the open halls just outside of this room. “Of course. You will always be welcome at my abode, Magister Blackwell; I’ll look forward to your arrival.” Kaaname says. Turning to leave, he halts a moment. “Oh. It almost slipped my mind.” The vampire turns his head towards them. “Do ignore the posted office hours of the Azakhaer; his schedule is very erratic. You will have to write to him if you want his attention, or for him to stay within your sights for you to stalk.” Karasu is already out of her chair at the mention of Kasyr, but Kaaname has disappeared out the door before she can curse at him. “Gods damn it!” She clenches and unclenches her fists, already itching to destroy something. Turning to Quintessa, there’s a fire burning behind her ruby eyes. “I hate it, I hate it here, Quintessa, I don’t like us being so gods damn close to not just one, but two people who have it out for us!”
Quintessa offers Kanaame a false smile. “Oh, don’t worry about that; Kasyr has never been able to avoid me stalking him for very long before. Goodbye~” He is already gone but she says it away just for her own satisfaction. Afterward the satisfaction quickly evaporates, leaving her no rebuttal when Karasu complains about staying in Larket for so long. Quintessa sighs before she starts putting her things away. “We are no less surrounded by enemies in Vailkrin, my dear…” The changeling’s tone sounds defeated. “And the deal I secured with King Macon will only strain relations in the homeland. Now that House Blackwell stands as the only county able to get valuable trade goods from outside of the Dark Lands we will become powerful, yes, but we will also attract jealous eyes. The vampires covet everything they cannot have- and that stands for my beautiful forest. In the coming weeks we will have to fortify ourselves against an assault from one of the vampire houses, likely House Nasar. At least here in Larket we only have two people to worry about and not entire houses of vampires.”
Karasu pulls her hair out of her face with a huff, opening and closing her fists one more time. The spellblade needed anger management and therapy more than she needed a punching bag, but she settles for none of those things, instead choosing to sit back down and grip her knees until the skin nearly breaks under her nails. “I don’t give a damn about some low level vampires, especially the ones that rely on brute force.” She wants to say that Kasyr and Kaaname scare her, and the thought of them actually working together if the coward was to actually obtain something Kasyr was interested in… it's something she wills away the moment it enters her mind. Off into the darkest recesses of her thoughts it goes, to slumber and resurface at inopportune moments as intrusive thoughts are prone to do. “Vampires are fast; simple dwarven machinery is not going to do much unless they get crafted on a large enough scale that they can be activated before a vampire can escape the range. Even then, you’d have to cover it up fast enough that no one knows such a large obstacle is there.” Looking down at the table, she imagines the layout of the fortress on Acorn Way in her mind, then pauses. Quintessa has steered her with just as little effort from the frustrations of Larket. A smile tugs at Karasu’s lips. “About how many of those in House Nasar have necromancy or arcane proficiency, would you say?”
Quintessa stuffs the remaining scrolls in her satchel before sealing her inkwell and adding it along with the quill inside her bag. “Then I shall deal with Kaaname and Kasyr using diplomacy and intrigue. I’ll try to put them at odds with one another- Kasyr always thought your father was a scumbag. I can work that angle and ensure they don’t team-up, don’t worry about it.” The warlock offers a weak smile to Karasu and her interest in House Nasar. “Meanwhile you will make a perfect General in my war against House Nasar… Yes.” The weakness in her smile quickly shifts into a sinister one. “House Nasar is a crime syndicate and they dominate the western black market as House Blackwell dominates the east. They are mostly thugs and gangsters, using brute-force tactics as you already pointed out but… There is at least one amongst them who is a talented spellcaster.” Quintessa pulls out a dossier from her satchel and opens it up to show Karasu the necromancer guild documents she collected from a time before she was put on restricted access. “Blaire Voltreyaux Nasar.” The changeling says with caution. “She is called ‘B’ most of the time, and she has a special power that I wish to make use of in the future. I only hope her loyalty to House Nasar is weak enough that she doesn’t have to die because honestly… I’d hate to see her unique talent for soul-weaving go to waste. Other than her I’m not sure that Nasar has many spellcasters. Our Dragana refugees would surely outnumber them.”
Karasu raises a brow at the unfamiliar phrase of soul-weaving, then reviews the notes. There was little listed that warranted a second glance. A listing of the items known to be sold by the vampire at a charity auction earlier in the year is one of those things, along with the fact that she is a fellow Novus Morior with a starting date just months behind her. “Hmm. I suppose I’ll have to double down if I’m going to outmatch this Nasar. I can still get dwarven steel made in Xalious; it will just take several trips to import the pieces for a certain fortification I have in mind.” The less she can say in the unprotected walls of this building, the better. Though Quintessa was at ease with this situation, Karasu is still far from it. Attempting to hide her frustration with the matter, she plucks a drooping lycoris from the bouquet and tucks it behind Quintessa’s ear. “We won’t need those lowly refugees soon enough. I’ll outmatch them for the both of us.”
Quintessa finds herself snickering at Karasu’s competitive nature in regards to Blaire. “I would not worry about that- you are far more driven than she’ll ever be. As for the dwarven steel, if you make contact with Lady Nikola she can surely provide that for us. I struck a trade deal with her as well prior to Cenril’s efforts to sanction us and she is keen to maintain my favor.” She glances down at her engagement ring. Maybe Nikola wouldn’t be so favorable to Quintessa if she was aware she was already spoken for. These musings quickly vanish as Karasu places a lily behind her ear and her blue eye sparkles with adoration. “My Xalious Princess, you are already more powerful than any vampire spellcaster in Vailkrin. You don’t need to prove that to me.”
Karasu gives her fiance a smirk before pulling away. “No, I just need to prove it to the sentient maggot that dared put his hands on you.” She hands Quintessa the dossier on Blaire to put away, and takes her annotated minor book of the dead back. At some point, she was going to have to get a superior necromancer’s input on curse-weaving. All the available options to her make her smile falter for a moment, but that thought goes into the hole with all the other things the demifeline does not want to speak of at the moment. “No matter, as long as we don’t run into Kasyr, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Are you all packed?”
Quintessa feels a strange heaviness in her chest when Karasu brings up Kasyr again, the pain in her in the spot where he had ripped a hole throbbing in phantom sympathy. “Yeah, about that…” The warlock is hesitant to bring this up, but she takes her time putting away Blaire’s paperwork to buy herself time to think. “I’m ready to return home but I want to have a conversation with him before we go. Kasyr is teaching a class soon and it is my intention to attend it.” Quintessa meets Karasu’s gaze carefully, already bracing herself for her lover’s reaction.
Karasu had moved to switch the book to her other arm when Quintessa starts speaking, but when the words finally register in her mind, the book is forgotten, her arm freezes up, and the heavy leather-bound tome falls to the ground with a lone thud. Karasu opens her mouth, meeting Quintessa’s gaze to ask if that was her attempt at a sick joke, but the words die in her throat before they ever have a chance to be spoken. Quintessa is not smiling; rather, she looks concerned. This is not some morbid jest. What comes out instead of words is flickering embers and a loud noise of disbelief; Karasu has to turn her head out towards a thankfully open windowsill so that the involuntary flames shoot away from the changeling. “WHAT?!” The one word is as long as Karasu has air in her lungs, and several students in the hallways stop to crowd around the door to see what is happening. Karasu whips her head back around and throws the doors shut with a simple aeromancy cantrip before facing the changeling that stands a good foot and a half taller than her. “He tried to KILL YOU, and you’re going to pop in on him like nothing happened?! Quintessa, I can’t stop him if he decides to attack you the second he sees you!!” To say this is not a good reaction would be the understatement of the year since Dwarven Quarterly ran the story on the legality of an archmage-apprentice affair.
Quintessa finds herself shrinking at Karasu’s words, not something the warlock did often. She has told Caluss to his face to screw himself without blinking but somehow incurring the demifeline’s wrath was more terrifying than the so-called God of Undeath for her. She tenses, suddenly feeling small like she did when she was a child. “H-he,” Quintessa takes a moment to inhale and exhale before she responds, steadying her words. “He won’t try it here, it risks his reputation in the Academy. Like it or not I’m a popular celebrity in Larket and it would ruin his postion if he murdered me in front of a load of students… Besides, I’m not certain it was his intention to kill me that night. I mean, he would have just done it, right? He knows that was his only opportunity and he wasted it. He must have some other intention…” Quintessa’s expression is almost pleading with Karasu. “If it bothers you that much why not come with me?” The changeling reaches out to grasp the spellblade’s arm. “You can stay by my side, like my knight. My Queen’s Guard. It’ll be like old times at the Mage’s Tower.”
Karasu furrows her brows in further frustration when Quintessa cowers at her extremely justified bafflement. Her nostrils are still flaring, and she can feel another surge of fire in her lungs. Its not her fault she’s upset, so why was she… oh. The demifeline looks back at the soot-covered windowsill, then looks back when Quintessa tries to rationalize her reasoning. “All it takes is two seconds of people looking away for him to run you out of sight and drop you dead in that fermin-infested whirlpool.” She interjects, though her tone has softened considerably. There’s a pause as Karasu considers her plea. She thought Kasyr had outright failed in his assassination attempt, but would he not have ripped out her heart entirely if he intended to finish the job? Did Kasyr not do it the way that he did so that Quintessa would have a long, agonizing death? Karasu reciprocates the touch by gently placing a hand over Quintessa’s own, though she stays scowling. “If I even think he’s going to make a move, I’m using Magik’s trick to get us out. You don’t stay more than an arm’s length away from me.” She exhales slowly and kisses the back of Quintessa’s hand before whispering, “I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.”
Quintessa’s emotions are quick to change, so the fear in her eyes quickly shifts to relief and then to excitement when Karasu offers to use the D’Chath smoke trick during their escape. Now Quintessa sorta hopes she has to use it after all. “I was not prepared the first time,” she admits, referring to the night she was attacked by Kasyr. “We will be more than prepared this time.” She pulls Karasu into an embrace, trying to reassure them both. “I need you to yell at me when I’m being foolish. You keep me lucid. Grounded. I need that pushback so I know I’m making the right decision. So don’t apologize for that.” She gently kisses the top of Karasu’s head. “I want you to play a bigger role in the decisions that I make, not only for myself, but for the Dark Forest. If you are going to be countess one day I want you to be ready for the job.”
Karasu can only make a small noise of protest as she’s pulled into Quintessa’s arms, her face still locked into ‘extremely disappointed significant other’. There’s one huff, then a second, then Karasu wraps her arms around Quintessa’s waist. “And you keep me on my toes, oh darling gremlin of mine.” She retorts with a shake of her head. “You also keep me from burning everything within the city limits when that conniving ass pops in to make a witty remark, to remind me that he’s still walking around without suffering for what he did. Plus, I’m already supposed to be playing a big role in your decisions. Maybe you’ll learn once those wedding reception plans finally get coordinated.” Karasu pulls away with a hint of a smirk on her face before she catches herself and returns to scowling. “But you’ve gotta live to see that happen. Now let’s go see our future throw rug’s class, the sooner we get out of Larket, the sooner I’ll stop being in a bad mood.”