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Aaralon's Discoveries | ArsenalXIII | 19

 

Peering through the bushes, Aaralon laid eyes on a rather strange site. A few meters back from the campfire sat a large, elaborate tent, black cloth with gold trim supported by six stout poles, and an awning over the entrance. It looked to be the sort of tent an aristocrat would use to travel, but it was alone in the clearing, with no signs of servants tents or anything else. Aaralon's eyes drifted from the tent to the fire, where he noticed a lone figure sitting next to it. 'Strange,' he thought, 'was it there before?'

The figure was equally enigmatic; it wore long flowing black robes with elaborate purple embroidery, and a black veil over its head and face. A golden sash was wrapped tightly around its waist, or rather, her waist, since it pulled the robe tight enough for Aaralon to notice a rather ample chest and hips. Long, braided black hair trailed out of the back of the veil and pooled at the ground; it would reach the figure's feet if she were standing, he figured. She cut the figure of an archmage, Aaralon figured, and his suspicions were confirmed as she held a pale hand out, releasing a fist-sized crystal ball into the air, where it hung motionless. Lights flickered inside it, and to Aaralon's shock, the figure turned to look directly at him. "Are you going to stay there for long? It's much warmer by the fire."

Nervously, Aaralon raised himself, not wanting to draw suspicion to himself by trying to flee. He coughed, "I'm sorry, but I was traveling with some others and I got separated. These woods can be rather dangerous, so I did not want to act rashly."

"Reasonable enough," the figure stated, "Now come closer.” She beckoned with her finger, and Aaralon could feel a strong force pulling him toward her, stopping only when he was next to the fire. Magic, and strong magic it was. Aaralon gulped. Has he made the right choice?

“You are clad as a magician,” the figure noted in a calm voice, “are you, boy?”

“My name is Aaralon”, he replied deftly, not wanting to be talked down to, even by a superior mage, “a mage from the College of Light and Shadow.”

“Oh?” the figure’s interest seemed to pique at this, “is that so, Aaralon. Please sit down.”

Aaralon sat down warily, peering at the figure. The face behind the veil seemed to have a youthful cast, but details were impossible to discern. “Alright. You seem to be a magician as well. What is your name, perhaps I have heard of you.”

“That would not be likely, I’m afraid,” the figure replied, palming the crystal ball once more, “I do not court attention as a rule. You may call me Celessa.” Celessa seemed to pause and smile, then continued, “You may not believe this, but I am the sister to the master of your College, Sareth.”

“What?!” Aaralon gasped, shocked. “The Grand Magus’s sister?!” He couldn’t believe it. No one had ever mentioned this to him before. Still, it would take more audacity than you average mage could muster to lie about something of that magnitude.

“It’s quite true,” Celessa continued, still patient and calm, “though we are not the closest of siblings. We work against each other somewhat.” Aaralon shifted back, nervously, causing Celessa to add, “Do not worry. We are too wise to be actively hostile to each other either, so you have no reason to fear for your safety.” She paused for a moment, then spoke again. “Though I do wonder what he is planning these days... Aaralon. I have a proposition for you.”

“Propostion?” Aaralon asked guardedly.

Celessa nodded. “Yes. I know mages are only released from the College by the permission of the Grand Magus himself. I’d like for you to tell me what your mission is. In return, I shall locate your friends for you... and lend you one of my servants for a time.”

Aaralon licked his lips nervously. Would this be betraying the Grand Magus? Would he find out? “What are these servants you speak of?”

“The force that brought you to me,” Celessa replied, “they are my greatest asset. You might call them poltergeists, ghosts that can interact with the mortal world, but they are created things, and have never known flesh, and thus have no will of their own. Depending on the importance of your information, I could grant you one for quite a long time.”

 

Do you agree? How much do you tell her?


          The whole truth

 
 
 

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