RP:Wings Over Empires
Part of the The Key to Open the Skies Arc
Cliff Edge
Svilfon is standing dangerously close to the edge of one of Frostmaw's many steep cliffs, flicking small feathers (where he got such feathers is anyone's guess) off the side, watching the katabatic winds carry them down like twigs on an invisible waterfall. A quiet humming comes from the wizard, the sound mixing easily with the natural noises which rip through the storm-torn area; an accompaniment to nature's own orchestra as fluid and fitting as any a druid could hope to mirror. Svilfon came here to see Satoshi, but unlike other visitors to the city (not that Svil could ever be classed as a visitor), he doesn't bother seeking her out. He's done nothing to hide his magic, even less to disguise the tell-tale scents archaic masters could sense; fire, teleportation, and a hint of death's clawing, but unsuccessful, grasp. All are carried by incorporeal winds to a nose (or perhaps whiskers) the wizard doesn't doubt for a second is sensitive and wary enough to pick up on. When Satoshi was ready, she would come to him. Until then, the wizard is content it seems to watch the feathers dance as they travel down into whatever unknowns rest at the bottom of the fall.
Satoshi's whiskers may be three short of their usual glory, and thus diminished in their sensing capacities, but that does not prevent her from sensing the presence of her Coterie Mate. Wizard and kit are bound by more than mere magical signatures, after all. She'd know him anywhere as readily as she'd know Kasyr, and Satoshi is certain the same could be said in reverse--it is a good thing she never intends to make enemies of Svilfon, because there'd be no hiding from him. And thus it is only a matter of time before the eidolon winds up nearby amidst a flurry of frost, neatly perched upon a hillock once the snowdust settles. As greeting, Satoshi offers the wizard a twitch of her whiskers--the ones on her left distinctly shorter than their kin. "I'd ask what you're doing with the feathers but... I was doing almost the exact same thing not a day ago." Studying wind patterns over moving objects, she was, although whether that's the case too for Svilfon is unknown.
Svilfon doesn't jump as Satoshi makes her undoubtedly spectacular entrance, though he does wonder if people are as impressed as he is over this when he teleports into an area in a burst of fire. Such thoughts do not live long in his mind, though, for a gap-toothed grin wipes away anything that's not joy, even as he tips his hat to the queen of frost and snow. “Lady icicle.” It's only then, without any of the normal social grace, the wizard squints his eyes and takes half a step closer, his game of feather dropping forgotten as he looks at her mismatched whiskers. “Kasyr?” It's hardly a question, who else would be brave enough to damage her hair, whiskers or face. “I may be able to help with that, you know.” He's rather curious as to what Satoshi was doing when she was dropping the feathers, but priorities are ever in the forefront of his thoughts. Satoshi's face, first. Satoshi's work, second. Wizard and magus logic at its best.
Satoshi lofts a brow at Svilfon's remark, looking downright incredulous. " You 'may' be able to help? Last I checked, wizard vocabulary did not include 'may'. Do and do not, yes. May or try, never~." Another wriggle of whiskers follows, Satoshi seeming strangely comfortable despite the lopsided nature of them. Either the magus has found a cure for vanity--Hah!--or her focus has been so fixated on other matters that she's left shortened whiskers to brood in the back of her mind. Rising to her feet then, Satoshi ambles her way to the wizard's side, helping herself to one of his feathers to be released into the wind. "I should be wary of offers," she remarks, eyes on the drifting feather, "considering you gave me these things unintentionally in the first place~. And as they're not regenerating like any other injury, I know they're far from a natural part of myself."
Svilfon laughs with geniune good humour at the snow queen's words; he'd missed her more than he can admit. “By the balls of Sven himself, it's good to see you, lady icicle.” He reaches out and just briefly rests his hand on her shoulder, giving it the slightest of squeezes, before he carries on speaking. “I have learned, Satoshi queen, to avoid the classic blunders. The first being, of course, never start a land war in Venturil, but only slightly less well-known is never messing with a Ice Magus's face, because death -will- be on the line.” He grins, then. “They will not regrow naturally, because despite them fitting you as well as my hat does me,” which surely is saying something, “they are not born of you, but of magic.” The wizard nods sagely. “If you wish them fixed, I can fix them.” He says those words with the conviction only these two can muster. “Though... you did not come to me the moment they were cut.” He frowns at that, “Is everything alright, lady icicle?” Were it anyone else, he'd be resting a hand against their forehead to test temperature, but that seems entirely redundant when an ice-eidolon is involved.
Satoshi might inflict frostbite on someone silly enough to check her forehead for a temperature reading. But certain wizards are immune to this, even if they decided to be foolish. Svilfon's question receives a laugh in response, lighter and freer than she's voiced in months. "Everything is quite all right. Better than, really. Hildegarde is watching over Frostmaw, so that I can wander the lands, exploring, and -learning- again." As a fellow scholar of the arcane arts, Satoshi is fairly sure Svilfon understands her pure glee and excitement about this seemingly simple fact. "Sure, Vailkrin's about seventy shades of explosive at the moment, which has Kasyr on a thin edge. But dammit, I forgot the thrill of prowling dark cities, sticking my whiskers where they don't belong, and digging up knowledge not meant to be found~. What's one or two whiskers in exchange for -that-, eh?"
Svilfon once again is reminded of why he feels such kinship with the queen of Frostmaw. The very reason he declined fighting for the spot of Archmage was for this reason; freedom to pursue knowledge is ever the lifeblood of all true students of the archaic arts. “I had heard Hildegarde will watch over Frostmaw.” He doesn't bother to explain how he heard it – he's a wizard, he knows these things. “And I think it a wise move, lady icicle. Were I to pick one who can keep this kingdom safe, strong and secure, it's that knight.” There is a depth of respect in those words that few would really understand. But Svilfon loves Frostmaw as much as he loves the Mage's Guild; for not one second would he be content were any but the most worthy having a say in how either is run. “And now you can explore again!” He grins, the look entirely crooked, “And play without the stresses of rule weighing you down.” He tips his hat, the gesture unconscious. “It is worth far more than a few shortened whiskers to be free.” He turns his head a shade to the side, then, peeking down over the cliff. “In truth, I had little agenda for throwing feathers from this cliff... but you were doing this too...” His face grows thoughtful for a moment, before he shrugs, “You have me, lady icicle. What knowledge did you seek?” He doesn't mention the troubles in Vailkrin. Right now there was little either of them could do, so it was a thought for another day... but one he would undoubtedly pursue.
Satoshi follows the wizard's gaze to the cliff, her boots not far behind until she's standing on the crumbling edge. So near the drop-off, the magus finds herself in the path of the shifting wind currents and she takes a moment to bask in it even as one hand unfastens the ribbon securing her hair in a braid. With the rifling flurry of freed wings, Satoshi's hair unfurls behind her in thick sheets of white suspended by the wind. "Honestly? I was trying to fly." Satoshi turns her head then enough to gaze at Svilfon over her shoulder. "Or figure it out, to be more precise. I... I want -wings-, Svilfon. Joining Emielle and Trebel is thrilling, yes, I'll never tire of it, but... to be carried by your own... What do you think it's like? Every being I have met that is blessed with wings speaks of it as if recalling a perfect dream." The passion of this peculiar project is evident as an amber blaze in Satoshi's eyes, and a rigid, determined set to her crooked whiskers. This is not some wild whim, this is a lofty goal she has had her eye and mind on for some time, clearly. Yet just as quickly as Satoshi becomes riled, the fires are quelled and she deflates. "I haven't had any luck. My cloak I can get to mimic wings, but they cannot hold me for more than a moment. So I've been studying, trying to find the secret to it."
Svilfon would usually, in this position, seek to test how good Satoshi's flying was by pushing her off the cliff. Anyone else but the ice-eidolon... for her, he merely lifts a finger to his bottom lip and begins to tap against it, an absent sign of thought when he's not twirling his wand around his fingers. “My knowledge of flight, when not upon the back of Alahir, Emiur, Trebel or my goat...” The merest whisper of a frown flashes across his face as he thinks of the fate of that particular pet, “is teleporting into the clouds and falling down. Not really flying, but the sensation is like nothing else... the silence caused by the roar of the wind whipping past your ears, drowning all the world's problems, it's a freedom like no other. I understand your desire to fly.” In truth, the wizard doesn't seek such a goal himself. But his understanding is not marred by this fact. “You are not restricted like you once were,” He motions to her arm with his once lip-tapping finger, the one which was for so long lifeless at her side. “Can you not shift yourself to grow wings? Your cloak may not support you, but if the wings are made of your own ice...” He falls into silence.
Satoshi turns slowly to face Svilfon then, a crackling of ice coming from her boots with the movement. She might have frozen them to the permafrost, just in case any wizards got pushy ideas. You don't live long in House Azakhaer if you assume your family won't shove you off a cliff in a heartbeat. "Aye, I've tried. The fog of my cloak is too thin, it breaks apart under the slightest pressure. Forging them of ice makes them too heavy, however. I was rather thankful for the extra tails, the first time that happened~. It's why I've been dropping feathers, watching Trebel, and other such things." Like hiring assassins to kidnap avians for experiments. "I'm trying to find that balance they naturally possess." Satoshi heaves a sigh, one part frustrated and one part wistful as she plops down in the snow. "With how many times I've tosses myself off these cliffs chasing a mad wish, it's no wonder folks have started calling them the Cliffs of Insanity."
Svilfon cannot help but laugh again as he hears the crack of ice breaking as she moves her feet. He should have known. For some reason, this simple thing fills him with much joy, though it's not what causes the next bright smile to form on his face. “You know... we could cheat.” There's a glimmer in his pale blue eyes at that. “You need not truly fly to fly freely, merely use that which is known to manipulate yourself enough that you're... well... avians are said to have brittle bones, leaving them light... You could...” Deciding explanations are not really the best way to show his thoughts, he instead shifts his tongue to one which is archaic; it flows as easily from his mouth as expletive curses do from Percy's, mixing with the icy air beside the cliff. The spell doesn't take long, but Satoshi would feel its effects from the start, growing and growing until they peak with his final word and all-too-flamboyant (he's a wizard, he's allowed his guilty pleasures) gesture. It was a mirroring of drow levitation. Not strong enough to lift Satoshi up into the air from her spot on the ground; despite their closeness, the wizard cannot just manipulate another master of the arcane arts that easily. But the gist of what he means is apparent enough as she would feel herself growing a little lighter, before he carries on with his explanation from earlier. “Using such magic to lesson Hollow's grasp upon you may make flight more possible... you could even imbue something with the magic, leaving your mind free to wander... yes, that could work, though it is dangerous... then the strength of your wings need not be so powerful, though still not too heavy, enough to glide, yes, to push you to fly...” His words trail off into mumblings as he ponders the implications of such a spell, forgetting momentarily that Satoshi is even there.
Satoshi is not exactly levitating by this point, but she can certainly feel the shift in the air and the lightness of the pressure upon her. It's almost akin to when she manipulates the clouds' moisture to walk upon them. Levitation. She hadn't thought of that. "Wizard, you're a genius! But don't let it go to your head." There is not enough room in Frostmaw for two such egos. Chuckling at this, and Svilfon's momentarily lapse in attention, Satoshi leans backward, her form light enough as to almost rest upon the air as if it were solid. "I cannot cast such things myself, although... that is the beauty of runes and sigils. Oh!" With a start, the magus leaps to her feet--and nearly topples right off the cliff, as her lightened body meets far less resistance when she stands. It takes a moment of flailing before she rights herself, turning then to Svilfon, clasping his hands between her own frozen ones. Her eyes are bright with an idea. "My Mage Mark! I have it inked on my shoulder. Leoxander made it! If I could get a second one on the other shoulder, I could anchor such a spell in them. Perhaps as a pair, it'd be enough to conjure wings!"
Svilfon entirely misses the words about his genius, and about it going to his head... Satoshi need never worry about that, though. His hat is designed to fit rather perfectly, if it inflated with ego he'd never be able to take it off, and all the things which live within would never see the light of day... not that they do much anyway. In fact, it's not until Satoshi is flailing that his attention returns to her, though he doesn't have time to offer her a hand. The moment his was lifting to ensure she didn't prematurely leap over the cliff before he'd finished thinking of the implications, his hand is grasped between the ice queen's own. He flashes a grin back at her, eyes burning with equal brightness. “Anchor it to your body through a runic tattoo... brilliant.” He doesn't bother telling her not to let that compliment go to her head. That's like telling an avalanche not to roar its way down a mountain. “With the one on your shoulder now... another to anchor the spell... ensuring one has the magic to grow the wings, the second with the levitation magic, meaning they will remain strong but light... tied together so they grow together...” The wizard cannot help but smile all the brighter, flashing the gaps in his teeth, “It will work.” He has no idea if it will, but when's that stopped this pair in the past.
Satoshi barely supresses a squeal of delight, and only doing so by leaning up to press a kiss to Svilfon's forehead. Just as swiftly as she's closed the distance between them, the magus is dancing backwards, bouncing on the balls of her feet with all the trembling glee of a child on holiday. "It is a fortunate thing we don't have a mind to rule the world, Wizard, because I don't think they could stop us if we put our heads together~." She could see it now, Hell frozen over and Heaven in glorious flames, with charcoal drawings everywhere in between. The empire of Wizard and Kit would be a terrible, beautiful thing. But Satoshi cares more about fashioning herself a pretty pair of wings than ruling a universe. Still a-quiver with delight, Satoshi fixes her gaze on Svilfon then, flashing him a grin full of fangs. "As always, you arrive precisely on time to set the world aright. Sometimes I wonder if you can't see the future."
Svilfon grins all the brighter at the swift touch of ice upon his forehead, and if it even possible, the smile grows wider with Satoshi's child-like joy. There is something calming to the wizard in the sight; there's no trouble in the world which matters when these two get together to puzzle out the mysteries of archiac wonders, even if it is just ensuring one of them can fly. “Ah, my lady icicle, if our dreams were as petty as conquering the world, we'd not quite be who we are.” Coterie logic at its finest: Screw controlling the world, let's learn to fly! It's a far better ambition. “You should know, too, Satoshi queen. I am always where I am needed most. Priorities are what drives me more than seeing the future... and what could be more important than this?” Nothing, is the answer. He knows Satoshi understands that as well as he does. “But we cannot get ahead of ourselves. A normal tattoo will not remain long in your icy flesh.” Maybe he has done some research on eidolons, or maybe he's just guessing. “It will need to be prepared right. Yes... perhaps we should enlist the students of our guild to fetch that which we need? Unless you wish us to get them..?” He grins, showing he would be glad with either way. “With the right ink, a pattern we can design together, it will work and you will fly. And once again, the world will be right.”
Satoshi gives Svilfon a sidelong look, just a hint on the impish side. "Why not both~? Let the magelings hunt down some of what we need. But let -us- hunt down the difficult ingredients." There's little stopping Satoshi from bolting off right now with a sing-song 'I'm going on an adventure~.' Find ingredients for an ink that can remain etched into ice? Hah! When you've got a wizard by your side, it's a simple matter to stroll into the open maw of a dragon to retrieve swallowed gold. As such a thought crosses Satoshi's mind, she straightens abruptly , ears perking forward. "Gold. ...No, no. -Silver-. Gikal etches his Black Ice armor with a blended silver, it survives the cold and abuse just fine! Mayhaps we should seek out a silver we can reduce to a liquid thin enough for inking?" Silver is, after all, innately capable of augmenting channeled magic, it's why Satoshi is fond of it in her spellwork. Although diluting it into an ink... that's not something Satoshi is experienced in.
Svilfon doesn't even bother saying he agrees with Satoshi. The look on his face says it all. Dangerous adventure for these two, check. Tests for the magelings, check. The chance to test out some magical theory which also involves jumping off a cliff, check. Satoshi often thinks Svilfon arrives when he's needed to make everything right, but the wizard knows the truth: He may help make the world right, at least to his own mind. But Satoshi ensures that his life keeps the same standard. And so he nods and grins, “I was thinking silver also. Liquified silver.” He can't help but smile again at that, he's not talking about liquified metal. “There could be no better base for the ink than that.” He nods, fastly warming even more to the idea. “But where can we find one... who's not the steward of this fine city?” Hildegarde is lucky she's exactly as she is, or the wizard would be suggesting her. “And who will you get to tattoo it?! Me?!” He brightens visibly at that... his Xalious wand is sharp and innately powerful with arcane magic... he could do it!
Satoshi is willing to walk into a dragon's jaws, but let Svilfon engrave her flesh? A wary shuffle puts a few more paces between herself and the overly eager wizard. "There's a lass in Rynvale who does fine work. Meri. She fought in the Titans of Winter tournament, Hildegarde seems to approve of her." Speaking of Hildegarde, "There is an abundance of Silvers in these mountains, but I imagine the majority of them are related to our dutiful knight. Perhaps we should visit the forests around Larket?"
Svilfon knew Satoshi would probably not let him do it. He wouldn't let him do it! But damnit, you cannot blame a wizard for trying. So he takes her news of another tattooist without even a frown, simply offering a smile of acknowledgment. “Larket is good.” He shifts his gaze to the east, as if his pale eyes can pierce the clouds, mountains and distance. “There are many silvers there... though they are stronger than most, having grown so close to a city filled with knights ever-eager to save maidens snatched by the creatures.” He nods, “A leaf from the three trees would be helpful, for they are strong and enduring. Fruit from a dryad's tree in the Fog Forest for colour. A sliver of dust from the stones of Trist'Oth,” this is, after all, a spell which comes from the dark elves... and their stone is tied to them as closely as Satoshi is to Frostmaw... well, almost. “Whatever else you think we need?” He pauses for a moment. “Do you wish to hunt the silver now, or wait until tomorrow? I am as content with a night of pillaging dragons as I am with sitting in your library with a hunt to look forward to... I've grown dusty, I'm sure your servants wouldn't mind the opportunity to clean me while I sleep.”
Satoshi nearly misses the question, having gotten lost in musings about whether an Underdark stone or the blood of a drow would be a more effective ingredient. Or more tempting, Satoshi doesn't know the difference between these terms. With pleasant imaginings of certain drow being bled for arcane studies, the magus waves a hand at Svilfon's question. "Let us rest and plot, give those dragons one more day to enjoy life. Just..." Satoshi glances back and forth then, seeming nervous, "Don't let the little foxlings with knives near you. They've taken a liking to seeing what sharp objects do to soft things." She's banished that group to the kitchen. Mostly. But their curiosity seems to be a contagious disease that Satoshi is struggling to cure, or at least redirect to less terrifying methods.
Svilfon laughs again, the sound free of any constraints which have come to plague the vampire's life... responsibilities... the bane of wizards! “Don't worry about me, lady icicle. I always sleep with one eye open.” He doesn't, but still... he can understand curiosity, especially morbid curiosity. “I'll think what will be best, you can too. And tomorrow we'll find ourselves a dragon to slay!” He flashes the brightest grin yet, gaps and fangs once again showing for all of Frostmaw to see. “I'll come find you tomorrow, or you can come find me... perhaps we can travel on Trebel, I've missed that angha.” With that, the wizard takes a step further back from Satoshi, ensuring she's not too close for his coming teleportation spell... he knows how much she dislikes it. “Until then, lady icicle. Rest well.” He tips his hat, and as if this were some arcane spell, he vanishes, leaving nothing in his wake but two footprints in the snow...
Satoshi can't help but shudder when the wizard teleports. Never again. She'll not forget that fateful day in the desert. Here's to hoping tomorrow's hunt is not so messy!