[Nardothis] Reversion
Posted: Sat Feb 20, 2021 10:18 am
Frost 76th
Four days prior, Nuraku had undergone the Strain of solving a difficult technique. Her soul had been waxed, waned, and set upon by corruption. For much of that time, she was bedridden, and though she had become more hardy, the effects were hard to gloss over. Even mild corruption could make the body feel weak, lethargic, and unhappy. Such was the curse of the mage.
Day by day, night by night, her friend Aeraku cared for her, and that first night Nardothis physicians came to check on her health. Fed plenty of food and water, her condition improved quickly, and by the third day she was in a familiar stupor of emotional distance, awake and wandering, studying a small amount. It wasn’t until today, however, that she began to feel refreshed.
Wasting body be damned, Nuraku rose from the depths of her dorm room tucked away in the corner of a long hall, emerging into the verdant halls of swinging drapery, vines and flowers hanging just out of reach, rustling in the cool breeze fluttering through the castle that prompted so many to wear several layers of attire.
Making her way down first to the cafeteria, she had her fill, and then proceeded to the study hall. Beady little eyes looked up to see the looming figure of her friend, the dog Rathor Aeraku. He might have been a Dranoch, but he was the homely sort with noble intentions. She would help him find a cure to his curse, one day... even if it took the power of a god to undo it. Nuraku’s thoughts briefly turned to the sigil burned into her body, its soul magic seemingly relevant to the idea of curing an affliction of that nature. Unfortunately, Aldrin did not seem the type to be easily swayed.
Perhaps I will focus on serving the Black Remedy after my stint with the Halamire, or during if I am careful? Playing both sides will be difficult.
Aeraku looked to her as she hopped up to the table to greet him. “Ah, there you are,” he said. “We should practice our Gentevarese.”
Nuraku nodded. “Bonjour, Aeraku,” she said.
“Bonjour,” he replied. “Feeling well?”
Again, she offered a curt nod. “Much better than yesterday, and worlds better than a few days prior. Aeraku--err, I don’t know if I’m confident enough to hold a conversation in Gentevarese yet. I only know a few dozen words, even if we’ve been studying all the stuff that makes up a word.”
“It will be fine,” said Aeraku. “We’ve been learning all these basics to make learning new words easier and more informed. I’m glad you are feeling well.”
“So where should we start?” Nuraku asked.
“Comprenez vous?” asked Aeraku in Gentevarese.
“Oui,” replied Nuraku. “Es-tu un chien?”
“Oui,” Aeraku replied with a disappointed shake of his head. “Okay, hm. Nous sommes... de bons amis.”
It took Nuraku a moment to decipher the meaning of the words, but the implications stretched together. She had practiced many of these words in recent days. “Nous sommes. We are,” she said. “That’s one way to ask someone if they consider you a friend,” she joked. “Silly chien.”
Aeraku shrugged, glancing up at the clock. “I wish we had more time. Time has always been the enemy,” he said. “...I should look up the word for time. Perhaps you and I will read a dictionary together, eventually.”
Nuraku followed his gaze. “Oui. Il y a très peu. I should get to Animus class. Pour ma souffrance.”
“I think you’ll pass the class, at this rate,” chuckled Aeraku. “We’ll both pass. I do enjoy these pass-fail systems. Hopefully the next thing they teach you today is not so... Straining,” he said with a sigh tacked on at the end.
“Yeah...” muttered Nuraku. “I hope so too.”
---
Meeting with the professor at a lecture hall, Nuraku arrived to a crowd of students gathered around him in a semi-circle. Some had their arms crossed, though others gossiped impatiently while they waited for the throngs of students to finish trickling in. It wasn’t long after Nuraku arrived before the rest of the class did.
Hopping up to a student lectern, she balanced upon it and leaned against the edge comfortably, staring forward at the instructor who’d taught her so much.
The bearded, burly man began to speak just as the last student walked through the door. “Good morning, class,” bellowed the fair-skinned wilderman. “It is my privilege to teach you today about a new technique that is important to Animus as a whole. As you may understand, a large part of Animus and its effectiveness depends on managing aether expenditure, and corruption. Today I shall teach those of you who have mastered Vectoring such a technique. It is called Devolve, and allows a mage to revert quickly into the memory of the last form they Molded into at a fraction of the cost, or even revert the most recent Integration.” said the professor. To the rest, he nodded curtly. “The rest of you shall observe and take notes.”
“Nuraku,” said the man with a curling finger. Summoned, the white ermine with a mesmerizing assortment of tail-feathers sighed in her weary exhaustion. It had been four days, but she still dreaded the thought of learning yet another technique. Leaning her weight forward, she slid down from the lectern and trotted over with a series of hops down the steps, arriving before the professor.
“And you two as well,” said the professor, pointing to the only two classmates who’d been keeping up with her. He crossed his arms, and lifted his chin. “Mold into anything you like, perhaps a bird? However, you must Mold with the intent to memorize before the ability manifests, as it becomes an automatic sense from then on. Unfortunately, I know of no mage who has discovered a way to save their ‘Devolution’ to carry it as a possibility between forms.”
Nuraku’s head tilted, rolling over the instructions in her mind. “Very well,” she said. “This sounds less Straining than the last technique, and I’m more rested this time, so.. ehm, fingers crossed this goes well.” Exhaling softly, she began to Mold, slowly, to conserve her aether. The image of her peacock-feathered white ermine affixed to her mind, she held that intention, keeping the image within herself and focusing her subconscious attentions on retaining the form, at least in part.
Nuraku emerged and spread her wings sometime later, her fellow gifted students already beginning to do much the same. With a few wing-beats, she stretched and righted herself, then hung her head low, still keeping the image as clear as she could. With that intention, she began to feel an unusual sensation welling up within the depths of her psyche, a sensation that called to her as she reached for it mentally with the intention of reverting to what she once was.
Seizing on the sensation, Nuraku growled through her beak, spreading her wings as pain tingled along her body. Still, she pressed on. Drawing upon that unusual puzzle, she solved with focus and aether, at last beginning to rapidly shift again. Her wings receding, changing colors to white, the beak upon her face morphing into that of a stout little muzzle, she fell to all fours within moments.
As peacock tail-feathers sprouted from her rump, Nuraku wriggled the tension away from her body, a mild, faint dizziness enshrouding her mind. “That wasn’t so bad,” she said, but she could tell the students next to her were even more worse for wear. One of them was out cold upon the ground, the other clasping his bloody nose.
“Excellent,” remarked the instructor. Nuraku felt odd pangs of distrust consume her as they shared eye contact. Though her vision was fuzzy, she tried to stay in class this time.
“Is that all?” Nuraku asked, curiously observing how the Daravin student body largely ignored their unconscious upperclassman. Perhaps it was the Candor, she thought, that such empathy was not warranted. Nuraku had her own excuse as a foreigner of sorts. “And is anyone going to call a nurse for him?” She glanced over at the other mage wearily.
“A nurse should be over shortly,” said the professor. Looking over the rest of his students, his clasped his hands together. “For those of you who are still struggling with these techniques, please continue to practice. By Ulen’s wisdom, only a few of us will progress as quickly in so little time,” he said. “Have your wits about you. Each of you are dismissed.”
Thank Ulen, Nuraku thought as she turned to shuffle out with the rest of the students. As she made her way out into the hall, she made a bee-line for the cafeteria. I’m hungry as sin. After that, I’m gonna sleep all day.
