The Little Archmage That Couldn't

[Jaycy Ashleana]

September 26th, 2021

Jaycy kicked up her legs onto the pastel-striped ottoman and crossed her feet at the ankles, ensconced in the wide, comfortable chair that was settled in what she had built into a comfortable, airy library at 4 Eventide Street, Gloaming. Twilight gently suffused the space from two sides of the corner room through wide, tall and curtainless-windows. Slumping into the seat, she pulled forth the platinum key from its long, hidden chain and lifted her palm. An almost imperceptible vortex, sheen of iridescent rainbow, lifted the thing and set it spinning slowly in the air before her, the star sapphire darkly gleaming as it caught the soft light.

Elbows set on the plump arms of the chair and hands steepled as she observed the floating object, the literal representation of her metaphorically unlimited access to the ‘kingdom’ of the Isle… or at least its hallowed Citadel of the Stars. Somehow she’d fallen (half literally, during that match) into achieving Archmage in the Duel of Magic. So why was she here, at Gloaming, instead of among the stars as was her ‘right’?

Because she knew now that she didn’t belong up there.

The small, two-bedroom-plus-an-office cottage at Gloaming had become a haven of sorts for the redhead; it was where she’d hidden more and more frequently as she’d isolated herself from friends and (more significantly) Hope. She’d filled fewer nights over the summer at the dual-level container house in Dockside and instead huddled here in silence and solitude, determined to both free the blonde from her and to simultaneously wean herself off of the joy of being with the woman. It’d been meant for Hope’s good. In the end, however, she’d found herself unable to leave and a few short weeks later she found herself with a new title, a new residence, and a sense that all had become right with the world once more.

What also felt right? Sharing her first moments in the Citadel with Hope. They’d made a bet that was largely predicated on them winning the toughest of all top titles to gain, this Archmage, and that bet had concentrated Jaycy’s interest in the title. It stood to reason that she’d want Hope there to celebrate the august occasion. And … it’d been everything she’d hoped for. Karma had been right; the views were incomparable, and the company had been perhaps even more magical than the Citadel itself. Footsteps had echoed softly in the seeming temple, hushed and reverent as the sound of water flowed around the abundant flora and fell from the edges. A flower, gently requested of the plant before she gained it, wound behind Hope’s ear in their tour, the pair wandering hand in hand.

They’d loved and settled in for the night, curved in each other. The redhead buried her face in the curve of the blonde’s neck and slept easily in the large bed, comforted in the strange surroundings by the scent of her lover.

She’d woken slowly, lazily, a few hours later, shifting away from the blonde and stretching out on her back, coming again to consciousness. “Mmm.” Sparing another glance at the woman, she first sat and then dropped feet to the white marble so that she could stand. Something lay heavy around her, something seemed waiting for her. Bare feet, as unadorned as the rest of her, padded of their own volition past towering columns and deeper toward the center of the Citadel. Silver-streaked red hair dipped as her head lightly tilted upon arrival at her destination – the Circle of Genesis. The white flame within, brilliant and blinding to others, beckoned with its sensual flickering and she fell prey to its call. She inched forward, a hand lifting and reaching for the prize.

First contact proved to be too much, however. As the tips of her fingers breached the flame’s perimeter her green-gold eyes shot wide and she convulsed, held upright only by the sheer magnitude of power within. Any screech she could have made failed, mouth open but silence controlled in magic’s domain. Electrocution only lasted a second, a tiny moment before she was released and falling backward, ending crumpled and shaking just outside the Circle itself. Long hair, suddenly pure silver, slowly colored again as the overwhelming force leeched from her and returned to its vessel, once more sedate.

She’d only remained unconscious for a few hours and had staggered back to bed before the blonde had awoken and Jaycy had taken advantage and comfort in that, pressing tightly against her until she’d resumed slumber.

By morning she’d recovered enough to feign normalcy as they parted company for the workday, even managing a smile as she shooed Hope off. Only after she was alone did she escape herself, teleporting directly to her cottage at Gloaming. It hadn’t taken her long to get the message – though Archmage she may have been called, skilled enough to wield the power granted by the Key and Flame she was not.

Ettyn had asked her how the Citadel had treated her earlier tonight and she’d simply answered that it was nice to visit. When Gory’d asked for clarification she’d been honest; it’d been overwhelming and she knew just what a mage she wasn’t. It was a healthy respect for the sheer awesomeness of the Citadel and all that dwelled within. It wasn’t fear, of course not, that had prompted her to admit that she didn’t know how often she’d walk the temple’s paths. In truth, the only space she’d felt any comfort in occupying was the library; mayhaps the tomes within the tower could lead her to discovering more information about the Opals and their origins.

As for magic itself? Glitter and flash weren't real magic and she’d been so arrogant to think they were. She knew truth now, and knew that if she tried casting magic again, no doubt she’d be punished for her hubris by the power high above. She couldn’t risk it; she’d swear off magic until she was no longer Archmage.

No doubt the Key would change hands at the next opportunity.

Jaycy sighed and dismissed the minute whirlwind, snagging the key and gaining her feet. She moved over and opened the safe, settling the key inside, and locked it – and magic – away.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

Late Morning, November 30th

The not-so-red-head stretched languidly across the expanse of the bed, luxuriating in the slick, smooth silk that caressed her bare form. Light played across the white marble and strewn cast-off clothing from the late morning sun but never met her eyes, perfectly pitched to warm the room without intruding on a person’s extended slumber. She’d shuttled the blonde off to work earlier in the day and had returned to her solitary rest, aiming recovery from the night’s events.

She’d defended the Archmage title by some means or methods, having found some ability to harness the power of Olympus to aid her in her quest (reluctant hero though she’d been). She was still Archmage. It almost didn’t even bother her that every bit of color had faded from her hair in the process; pure silver feathered across the pillows in reminder and consequence of her time in the magic ring this past cycle. The question of its permanence would likely only be answered once she relinquished her residency at this Citadel and drawn away from the flame.

The flame.

What a difference two months made, she mused, turning to her left side and curling mildly on the bed. Mmm. While she retained a healthy dose of humility as to her abilities, she’d lost the terror associated with that beacon in the Circle of Genesis. Mayhap an infusion of spirit from the title’s own ring had buoyed her and soothed her soul, for the Citadel and thoughts of what lay within didn’t set her running to Gloaming to bury the Key in the locked, voided safe. Mayhaps, instead, it was time to study it once more, to commune and congress with the light.

It was another few hours before she put deed to thought, though.

When she finally rose for good it was late afternoon and the sheets were warm, honey to her lazy touch. One last caress passed over the fabric before she turned her way from the master suite, intent on the center of the Citadel. Steps were slow and sweet, weaving from flower to pillar and back to flora in the meandering enjoyment of its features. She’d come to the library in the past two months but had avoided, by and large, any other part of the Tower. Finally, though, she found the center once more and turned green-gold eyes up to the flame.

It seemed so … innocuous.

It barely flickered as she studied it, the tip of the white fire turning slow circles around the air. Finally though she stepped forward, giving to impulse and extending a hand once more. History did not repeat itself in this second meeting; once the tip of her index finger broke the plane of it she didn’t fly back, unconscious and inwardly singed.

Jaycy froze.

Ice curved down her exposed spine and laced over her form as she became encased in a thin but impregnable coat of frigid armor. In the pocket of her crumpled jeans, the Blue Opal – IceDancer – felt a surge of satisfaction.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

(( Arena, January 18th. ))

Ebon was back in the Arena office, catching up on paperwork. The door, however, was open.

If Ebon was anything like she had been, he'd be in his office working some of the later hours; often, the sports positions and their tasks were best performed in odder times around their day jobs. She had asked to meet, too, so she wasn't entirely unaware of where he might be. Once she entered and descended the stairs to the (thankfully and expectedly) silent Arena, she only paused for a moment before making her way toward the offices.

Once she arrived at his, door open or no, she rapped on it. "It's Jaycy; may I come in?"

He looked up and smiled, setting the paperwork down and gesturing for her to come in. "Of course!" One hand gestured to the office's liquor cabinet. "Care for a glass?"

A soft laugh escaped as she stepped though the portal and shook her head. "As much as I would love some right now, it won't do anything fun and interesting for me and I'm not interested in it just for the taste. Besides, I don't plan to keep you that long." A beat. "May I close the door? There are no cameras and recording in here, aye?" Green-golds shifted about the office space, particularly to the corners.

He glanced past Jaycy to the door, which softly closed. "No cameras in here, no. What's on your mind?" One eyebrow arched a touch; he had a good idea of what she was there to discuss, but it never hurt to ask.

Peeking back at the door for a moment, she grinned. "Cheater." The laugh returned as she strode closer to the desk to take a seat. "Well, of course, first ... congratulations again for your fine showing and your win at the Archmage Tournament this past weekend." It was a good place to start, aye? And also hint as to the crux of conversation, even if she had an idea that it would flow somewhere else first.

"Thank you. I have to admit, I surprised myself that night." He had a mug of tea, and took a sip. "Then again, if Matthew can duel with his fists even on the Isle, and we've had Force users and high-tech types, so why not psionics?"

"Magic takes all shapes and forms, and there's no right or wrong way to cast it," she agreed philosophically, shrugging lightly before shifting in the seat to withdraw something from the front pocket of her jeans. Fingers remained curved around it until she leaned forward and dropped the smallish item on his desk, allowing it to tumble a few inches toward him. It was blue in color and crystalline, and seemed inert; hello, IceDancer.

"What do you know about these?" Perhaps, it seemed, she was including all of the Opals in her question. "I know you've not held one, but...."

"I know that they have wills of their own, and that alone has made me leery of holding one in the past." His expression darkened a shade. "It smelled too much of enslavement, and, having been a slave myself, I could not in conscience claim mastery over another." He took another sip of tea, holding the mug close to his face to breathe in the aroma for a moment. "I gather that since their reforming, they have more... agency, would you say?"

She offered a thoughtful nod at the conclusion of his summary. "Aye, you've the right of it on both ends. Some, however, sought them before the reformation either to keep them from the hands of those who would happily master them - and found themselves pawns of their schemes, because they still had some agency - or kept them as trinkets without ever making devils' bargains."

Jaycy paused, licking her lips as she pondered her next words. "Their agency - at least the two I've held - and ability since the reformation has indeed grown." A moment, then she added delicately. "... and sometimes in not the best ways." Her gaze ticked to the Opal before she explained, summarily, some of the recent actions IceDancer had taken.

"... so, mayhaps you see my conundrum as to being Archmage and why I'd consider just retiring it. And why I wanted to make sure it was a non-holder before I even thought about it."

"Hmmmmm. Yes, I do... if the Opal is subtle enough, they might get their hooks in even a strong-willed mind, and then... the power of the Celestial Tower." Ebon cocked his head to one side as he looked at Jaycy, and then down at IceDancer.

"But I don't wield an Opal." His dark eyes turned back to Jaycy. "Nor am I in any hurry to do so."

[Jaycy Ashleana]

A wry twist of her lips marred her face. "Aye. Again." Sighing, she relaxed her face and shook her head, sending the silver strands in her low ponytail swishing. "I'll easily admit I'm susceptible to manipulation by the Opals," yet she'd never mentioned giving the Opal up instead, "... but there are worse hands it could land into, aye? And once aware, not so easily swayed again."

Slumping a little in the chair, shifting to a more relaxed posture, she eyed the man. Perhaps it was a tad more shrewdness than a moment ago. "So, what would you do, if you were me? As you say, you don't wield an Opal. You're ... safe." She'd hold onto the second half of his sentiment, it seemed, and not reply to that. Yet.

He reached out and plucked the Blue Opal from its resting place. Nothing passed between them--after all, Jaycy was its wielder, not Ebon--yet he could almost feel the stone sizing him up, a chill passing into his hand. Then he set it back down. "I'll be honest, I wouldn't mind facing you in challenge for the Tower; you're a wily opponent. I do have to ask... you've spoken of IceDancer, but what of the Celestial Tower itself? Is there influence there as well?"

Hrm. Her gaze had followed his movements, hint of the smile fading in almost a possessive manner but not quite there. Once it was safely on the desk once more, green-golds shifted back to meet his dark eyes. "Influence in which way? The Tower doesn't have the sentience of the Opals."

"Phenomenal power, no will of its own... I can see how that would tempt them." He gestured towards IceDancer. "What would I do, in your place? Do you fear your will is in danger? Your sanity?"

"Oh, more than tempt." A rueful shake of her head, then she paused, taking a deep breath in. The exhale and then she shook it again. "No, I don't fear for either of those. If this were a less serious talk, I would say my sanity is so long gone that I'm Tass' twin." There was some truth to that, though. "My concern has been purely on the physical realm and what an Opal can do with so much power at their beck."

"The fact that you're concerned about the issue, wary of it, speaks volumes."

Taking that as a compliment, she bobbed her head in grateful acknowledgement. "So... I either retire, and assure that IceDancer has no access, or attempt to defend, and if I do, take the risk. Because now that I know, if I commit to defending once, I commit to continuing to make that choice."

The smile returned, small. "... and of course there's the second half of the conundrum. You. You said you'd want to face me, and you are Overlord. Those weigh on this."

"I've enjoyed the rare times that we've faced each other in the ring, in any sport." Beat. "It hasn't happened that often, to my memory, and I don't recall ever facing you in magic."

True and wider, the pleased expression grew, and her eyes lit. "Same, hon." Slowly she breathed out. "I suppose I could, and should, defend. I do have a request, however. I know I can't really enforce this, but you'd said you weren't in any hurry to wield an Opal. I ask, if you win, that you not seek an Opal while you're Archmage. Please."

"You have my word."

There was no need to shake on it; she nodded confirmation. Subtly, some of the tension did flow from her and her expression cleared of the minutely furrowed brow. "Thank you," sincerely.

It took a moment but finally she leaned inward once more, to pluck IceDancer from the desk and, rocking on a hip, tuck it into her pocket. "I suppose all that's left is settling on a date and those other particulars."

"We can meet for lunch in the next day or so to discuss that. Lunch tomorrow?"

"That sounds like a plan. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, and discuss all of this. I hope it's been as helpful for you as it was for me." Pushing to her feet, she smiled to him. "Twilight Tacos?"

"Oh, yes, I could go for some tacos. I'll see you then!"

"Excellent. G'night. Don't stay here too late with paperwork." A wink; she was entirely guilty of doing exactly that over in the Outback! Laughter echoed as she disappeared in a minor flash of rainbow light.

(( Taken from play with Ebon - thank you!! ))