RP:The Witch's Trial (But Not That Kind)

This is a Mage's Guild RP.

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Summary: Larewen tests Aerlithe's ability for entry into the mage's guild.

The Dark Forest

Aerlithe is at present taking a break from intensive training, which primarily involved expending every bit of her magical strength each day; all the better to increase it. Even with this rare rest period however, the witch is alert for the slightest hint that her Mother might be about, something she both hoped for and was concerned about at the same time.

Larewen is aroud - and not just physically given the proximity of her body from where Aerlithe stands. She is an abnormally cold spot lingering in the air, a chill passed through without much thought by most individuals. She's been observing Aerlithe, and though perhaps that ought to be enough to placate her curiosity regarding the girl's ability, she is ever so much the hard to please mother that strives for perfection. As Aerlithe takes a moment to rest, the translucent being materializes within the other's visual range. "Daughter," she greets, her voice an empty, disembodied echo.

Aerlithe should have expected that Larewen would appear the moment she took a break. The lack of suspicion about that happening ensures she's surprised when the Elder Vampire appears, causing momentary fright. Once recovered, she then responds with, "Hello, Mother," while regarding her 'parent' with reverance. Other than the two words, she does say nothing, waiting instead for further interaction from her.

Larewen might have smiled, were she any one other than herself, but that would be an unusual act for the banshee. Instead, she lifts her chin slightly. "Before I admit you into the Mage's Guild, it is imperative that I gauge and test your ability thus far. This will help with your own magical education by giving us an idea of where you stand. I will perform several abilities, which you must counteract in the way you find best fits the scenario. Are you ready?"

Aerlithe goes from being simply alert to now apprehensive and worried, for she feared failing the test once it had been explained. Despite that lingering doubt, despite pushing herself to the point of exhaustion every day, the witch only says, "Yes, Mother. I will succeed or perish, there are no other options." Extreme perhaps, but she did know the consequences, and would rather cease to be, if the alternative was being a reminder of shame to House Dragana.

This time, a cool smile does crease Larewen's lips, teasing their corners upward. There is no warning, no explanation as her mouth opens to loose a blood-curdling screech. A thick, viscous darkness springs up around Aerlithe, boxing the youth in from all four sides and above. It is a putrid violet-green and reeks of decay. Should the witch reach out and touch it, she would find that the darkness means to pick her bones clean. "Find a way out," she says afterwards.

Aerlithe reacts on reflex, hands moved to try drowning out the noise which was hurting the witch to the point of her vision swimming for several seconds. Once it's passed and there's only darkness, there's a moment of anxiety felt by the ageless woman. One deep breath and, "Calm down, Aery," later, and she's quickly going through every bit of knowledge absorbed over twenty plus years. With little time to ensure it's done completely proper, Aerlithe now enacts a barrier comprised of impure energy, willing it to cling to her frame, rather than be a proper bubble. That done, she now sprints, every ounce of her mental strength focused on keeping her protective measures in place while trying to push through the darkness.. exhausting though it was.

The barrier eats at the impure energy, but the process is slow enough that Aerlithe is able to pass through the other side unharmed. Larewen takes note of the manner in which the witch curled the magic close to her body, rather than creating a spherical bubble around herself. Nothing is said as to the other's display of quick thinking before the next of the banshee's trials is cast. This time, it is meant to strike at Aerlithe's emotions. Conjured from seemingly nowhere, the witch's familiar, a rotting crow Larewen remembers seeing at Aerlithe's side, appears before her. The creature's magic is undone and lays in a shattered, stinking heap. Its beak is stretched open in the throes of terror at whatever rent it in two. The banshee watches to see how the witch will react: will she weep, disregard, or reanimate it?

Aerlithe does her best not to give into the waves of exhaustion which came with fighting off the much stronger magic, at the cost of a considerable amount of energy on her part. This is helped by the lack of time between the cessation of her first trial and the start of the next, as she sees the bird which had been her companion for months lying in a pile before her. Glad for the respite, this particular problem is approached analytically, as the barrier which had protected her is dispelled, an inky river flowing down her body. Toward the bird it flows, for the witch intended to piece it back together and use the creature one last time.

Larewen watches in silence as the inky magic flows into the bird and, after some time, the creature is pieced back together. "Needs work," is all the elder vampire says in regards to the shabbiness of the spell. She is aware, just as Aerlithe, that it could very well be the creatures last time to take flight. Unless the witch's skill improved. One more trial awaits, and this time with the banshee's keening comes the barrage of utter darkness. Trees, exposed roots, rocks, even the pool of corrupted blood at Larewen's body fall under cover of shadows. The ghostly being's magic brushes a rock near her, altering it with a thin thread of magic before lifting it into the air and tossing it. The magically created darkness suffocates the sound of the pebble meeting with ground once more. "Find it."

Aerlithe accepts the criticism without complaint, for it was an assessment that she agreed with personally: believing that she could always do better regardless of how skilled the witch got. With the challenge that follows, there's an automatic sweep of the area, despite her sight being useless in this instance. Not able to count on sensing magic either, for that ability had been lost during her rebirth, there was but one option. "Serve me one last time, friend," is said, the magic which kept the bird animated withdrawn until it was barely able to remain aloft. The connection is then used again, her will imposed so the winged creature was engulfed with fire, the aim of which was to let her pierce the darkness and search until her pet was completely consumed.

Larewen is pleased to see such indiscriminate use of a valuled companion, but she does not allow it to show on her pale, ghostly features. Instead, she watches. The pebble sits at the edge of the pool of corruption, waiting for Aerlithe to pick it up. It will be heavier than expected, yet the faintest amount of pressure upon it will cause the stone to disintegate.

Aerlithe knows not what Larewen has in store, even when she finds the stone which had been flung out of sight previously, and with that, she does approach very carefully. Operating under the idea that it could be a trap, set to eat at her body or very consciousness, the witch takes the careful route and recreates the barrier used to escape from the corrosive darkness earlier. This time however, she exits the protective measure, turning it into a shadow copy that moves to seize the stone and.. provided it wasn't rigged somehow, return it to the vampyre.

Larewen holds out a ghastly hand as the shadow copy of Aerlithe drops it into her palm. Her magic is withdrawn from the rock and she drops it. At this point, the burning bird fizzles out, collapsing in a pile of ashes as the darkness withdraws. Her gaze remains on the witch studiously. "You have passed. I will inform the archmage."

Aerlithe ceases all her magic once those eight words have been heard. While she's super exhausted, having had to contend with the banshee's power, there's a relieved, "I'm glad I did not disappoint you, Mother, or cease to exist," to show which outcome had been more fearful to the witch.