RP:Sands Through The Hourglass
Part of the The End's Not Near Arc
Summary: Larewen and Muzo bump into Regi studying ancient books in the palace Ballroom. Larewen tells them the magic used in the attack was old, ancient. The longer it takes them to find the source, the more powerful it will become.
Ballroom in Alithrya
Reginae had been puzzling over the fragment of a mural Lionel had given her some time ago. He said it was part of an old mural that depicted the creation of the naga. How did he know about it and where were the other pieces? It drove her mad not to remember. She’d spent the last few days looking for clues and was surrounded by various volumes in the ballroom. The ancient library wouldn’t mind if she borrowed a few old texts right? She’d just seen Pilar and Yozenra off on their quest, which left the queen in the palace, all alone. Her long white locks were pulled back into clips, little pearls shaped like slithering snakes. They nearly vanished in her already unpigmented hair. She’s mumbling to herself, finger pressed into a piece of old parchment, following a line of text.
Muzo struggles to remember his way around the palace. He'd only been here on the rarest occasions and had done a good deal, for much of his life, to avoid the place. Ironic, now that he's going out of his way to explore it. Not daring to speak, scarcely daring to breathe, he slithers from room to room, looking for... looking for... "Aha, there," the snake boldly mutters as he peeks 'round a corner and spots her. Though he slithers into view, Muzo hesitates at the doorway. Reginae is deep in study. Muzo can feel his heart hitch a beat , and though he's had the courage to proceed thus far, the researcher must redouble his convictions. He's here on business but, somehow, so profane it seems, now, to break her concentration. A few silent seconds elapse as he watches her read and mutter before, "ahmm, hmm," he audibly clears his throat, hoping to break her attention.
Reginae looked up from the book she was reading at the sound of movement. “Hmm?” She called to the empty room, before spotting Muzo. “Muzo,” She whispers, pulling herself up too quickly and knocking the books off the table. They fall with a heavy clatter to the polished ballroom floor and she flinches, embarrassed. “Muzo!” She called, the echo of the books still reverberating in the air. “P-please come in.” She rubs her palms on her scales, nervously, trying to catch her breath. Her lips purse as she inhales, exhales and waits for him to move closer.
Muzo recoils in guilt as she knocks her things over. He hurries over as quickly as his tail may carry. "Didn't mean to surprise," his apology hurries likewise, and he stoops to begin picking up the books. Compulsively, he can't help but check their spines as he stacks them in his arms. "Had come by, oh goodness, to ah, getting ahead of myself," The books are soon up, and he hoists them up, on his forearms, tucking them sturdily under his chin so they might not suffer another fall. "How are you," Muzo manages to ask, his tone choked by the pressure of weighty tomes.
Larewen isn’t too far behind Muzo and the clatter of books hitting the floor leads to her brow arching upward. Books? In a ballroom? Odd place, really. The elf doesn’t voice as much though. In fact, the necromancer’s habit for propriety is lost as she approaches too, hardly sparing more than a glance at Muzo as mismatched eyes fall upon Reginae.”We need to talk,” she says, her voice firm. Judging by the thinness of her lips, whatever is bothering the elf isn’t something to be taken lightly. As a second thought, the other naga earns another glance and she jabs a finger in his direction. “His loyalties, do they lay with you?”
Reginae is halfway through a reply to Muzo, “It’s okay! Don’t worry about the book-” Larewen steals her gaze when she storms in, leaving the ivory naga to stammer. “He’s my - We’re…dating? Yes?” Reginae shakes her head, stunned by the Vampiress’ appearance before switched her gaze back to Muzo. Could she say that? That was a thing right? “What’s wrong?” Panic backlit her azurite gaze as it fell back to Lady Larewen.
Muzo is setting the books back where they belong as Regina offers reply to Larewen. What Regi says nearly causes the stack to topple again. He does his best to offer a sincere (hopefully not inappropriately enthusiastic) nod. If it's a question, and now, apparently it is, the answer is "yes," decisively. Muzo blinks a little dazedly, then hurries to clear his throat and resume setting books back. "Larewen," Muzo greets the vampiress, "believe we haven't met. Muzo."
Larewen ’s mood is rather mercurial in that regard and as she processes Reginae’s admission, her mouth falls open slightly. “How does that work with naga?” she muses out loud then shakes her head once - sharply enough to loosen the bun pinned to the back of her head. “No, don’t answer that. That’s an act of biology I probably don’t wish to know. Besides, minor thing presently.” The elf is rambling more to herself than to the pair. Nonetheless, once her mind has returned to that issue she intends to raise, her features become serious once more. “It’s about that… thing that attacked us. It wasn’t living,” the necromancer states. Her brow furrows slightly. “In fact, it’s worse than simply the fact it wasn’t alive. Far worse than that, because it is something I had to look for myself - in the Black Library.”
Reginae points at Muzo, as if Formulae would appear comically to display diagrams regarding naga relationships. No such thing appears to be happening...and Reginae lets her arms slack to her sides as Larewen regains her composure and speaks about a Black Library. “I don’t know -” She pauses, looking at Muzo like he might know, “About this Library?” She clarified, only now wrapping her head around what Larewen was saying. “It was a naga, I don’t...it wasn’t alive? What do you mean? It wasn’t illusionary magic, I would have known-....” Her white hair is still pinned back with pearl serpents, leaving it in place as she studied the vampire’s facial expression. “Not alive?” She repeated, quirking a brow.
Muzo straightens, brows raising at 1) the mention of the Black Library and 2) Larewen's failure to reciprocate a greeting. No matter. Perhaps the day may yet come when Muzo will give a lecture-hall explanation of naga physiology. In the meanwhile, he's left mutely caught on the sidelines. He, too, had come to discuss the entity who'd so violently disrupted the town hall meeting. If there is information to be gleaned, Muzo is all ears.
Larewen is running a little behind on the greeting, and belatedly turns toward Muzo. A dip of her head is given in the male’s direction. “A pleasure, Muzo,” she responds, her tone a small bit clipped. Just a small bit, though. When her gaze returns to Reginae, she gives another shake of her head. “Unless you’re much older than you and I look, then no. It was…” she trails off and for a moment, her mismatched eyes glaze over, much in the same way a connoisseur’s might while tasting something that was utterly divine. “The magic that guided that thing was something far, far older than any spells we might practice today. I could taste it, like a finely aged wine. It was carefully layered with ancient necromancy and illusionary magics. There is still more research to be done, but we need to find what created it, or I can only imagine that with time, there will be an attack of a far grander scale. Death, destruction… Things that will make what the Archmosian Empire wrought upon Alithrya look like child’s play.”
Reginae is stunned to silence. To use the Archmosian Empire like a insect in a spider’s web, well...there was a lot to be said for the staying power of that statement. The Azurite fields shrink behind dilating pupils, Reginae is immediately concerned for what this power would do to Alithrya and who exactly is wielding it presently. Time was tricky, because she both was and wasn’t older than she looked. Same could be said for Larewen but the naga doesn’t say anything until a few seconds tick past. “How old…?” Older than the naga? Older than the vampires? Older than the Archmosian magics? Those magics were practically from the gods themselves. How they didn't’ ruin this entire plane of existence is still a mystery to Regi.
Muzo returns the dip, politely, in Larewen's direction. "Likewise," he offers, and clears his throat. His wide, glossy black eyes shift from Reginae to Larewen, Larewen to Reginae. "Supposing," he interjects, and his voice cracks as he does. "Ahem. Ah-su-su-p-p-posing one did not know," his fingers twirl and curl upon the air, as if he were trying to pluck a fact from the aether, "precisely the implication of the Archimosian Empire's... ahm," his brows furrow, and he taps his chin, "involvement. Curious to know, hypothetically, what that might," Muzo swallows, "imply?"
It was only proper for Reginae to wonder such things. Larewen had been around then. Perhaps not as keen on fighting, but she could remember the Immortals, the Ascendi... Gods, she could. "It depends," the elf says softly, "on whether or not this seed is allowed to take root and fester. The thing that attacked us was dispatched of with ease. It could have been sent to test our ability, to get a feel for our strength, or it could have been sent as something more final. Time is the worst thing that magic can be given, for it grows. It might be best that we try and track it, try to find out where it came from. Have others been seen?"
Reginae heard Muzo's question but she's blindsided by Larewen's reply. " The leader of the Archimosian Empire was Vuryal, often referred to as the Time Lord or Time Leech, depending on the company present. He had the power to alter time..." This realization alone brought back a fresh wave of horror for Reginae. "He was an apprentice of the gods. -HE- was responsible for pulling the naga from the time flow to begin with." And begin their endless suspension while the other races evolved and flourished. Before Humans were even a thought in the grand design of the cosmos. There was Vuryal, and the nagas. Her eyes are focused on Larewen now because Larewen remembered. Larewen had seen the damage and knew the power his influence could have. "There have been some petty attacks in the street to non-naga but there haven't been any other incidents like this..." Then she turns to Muzo and her intense gaze softens around the edges as she beholds him. Just as quickly she looks away, to Larewen with a sigh. "We'll have to find out where this naga came from...and where the magic is..." All of this on top of Xzavior's opinions...It drained her; snout to tail to think about.
Muzo drums the pads of his fingers along his jawline, forked tongue sporadically flicking as he absorbs, analyzes, and files for future consideration. Primeval origins, dark magics, unabetted festering. "Sounds rather dire," the alchemist mutters, and his tail coils pensively back upon itself. "Bothered to collect a sample of the, ahm, ah," his teeth click as he searches for a term, as "icky goo" doesn't quite have the ring he'd like, "ichorous decomposate that the assailant left behind after you," Muzo's eyes slide over to Larewen, and he quietly gulps, "neutralized him. Haven't analyzed sample. Still have it, preserved. Could perhaps begin tests, though, if either of you have a hypothesis." Unadmittedly, Muzo hadn't gotten around to the little vial of putrid tar because he hadn't the first clue about what he might be looking for in it. Curious and eager though he may be, the researcher knows he's no detective.
The necromancer doesn't share the same sense of discomfort or horror that Reginae or Muzo do, in regards to Vuryal or Larewen's dispatching of the assailant. Perhaps that's because the elf dances a much more intimate ballad with death. Or it's because of the curse wrought into her flesh, for the very moment the elf feels fear, the darkened scars take on a verdant glow and heat rolls off her body. She grimaces, but the moment that inkling of fear fades, so too does the curse's activity. She dips her head toward Reginae in agreement before sweeping mismatched eyes toward Muzo. "The naga wasn't always dead," the elf points out. "I'd start there. See if you can discover when the creature was truly alive. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have turned it to mush, as that would make studying it easier."
Reginae hears Muzo's question but she doesn't want to reply the way she has to. With a sigh, she turns away from both of them, crossing her arms and hiding her face in the ample shadow. "Maybe we can tell the progress of the host's magic if we keep an eye on the sample. Muzo, Can you figure out how -strong- the magic is in the remaining...ichorous decomposate?" She smirked to call it that. It's the only thing to bring levity to their situation. "We need a proverbial hour glass with which to track it's progress so we aren't unprepared if it comes knocking again."