Somewhere Someplace

“Alright, you, nine, first, step to the stone and place your dominant hand onto the engraved signa” the proctor instructed, the denizen immediately stepping forward and towards the crystal.

« Iterù ‹ saxù › énquit… Nonne videre potest quod crystallù’st éllud clarë? » the foreigner remarked in a quiet murmur; her hearing what was so clearly a crystal be continuously referred to as a ‘stone’ was…perhaps getting to her mildly, for even the local language had a word for ‘crystal’…pfft.

The denizen calmly halted before the arcane crystal, placing her right-hand gently upon the engraved sigil. Even though the sigil was so hard to see, the foreigner knew it was there…its presence could be…felt…in such a strange way; there was no greater attractor than that sigil to that which was imbued deep within.

With the denizen’s hand on it, the proctor promptly approached; standing next and near, he firmly placed his right-hand onto her forehead. The denizen took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, focusing and attending, the proctor doing the same. A lingering focused silence took hold, yet the proctor’s lips seemed to be…moving, reciting.

“…Magia pierce her soul and guide” the proctor’s breaths whispered in finality; an incantation, seemingly, though most of it had occurred in his head. Immediately, his eyes ignited into activation, the sigil of the arcane no longer obscured, his natural eye colors overridden by a sort of pure-light-blueish activated radiance; not cyan.

Very faint, almost impossible to see, dusty radiance flowed from his ‘manafield’ and into the denizen, wisping through her nose and head. Yet, oddly, his right-hand began to radiate, a pronounced light-blue ‘magical’ glow emanating from the point of contact between his hand and her forehead.

This was odd because…that ‘magical glow’…should have no real effect…surely? Due to… Huh…interesting… So, what was the point of it, then? Or maybe…there was an effect, but then…why? Thus, the foreigner’s mind cogitated away as she observed.

Soon after, the denizen’s own eyes ignited into radiance, as the engraved sigil of the arcane flashed into visibility, revealing itself; she opened them immediately, her ignited eyes staring into the crystal. For merely but a faint picosecond, the ignited radiance was a cyanic-like color, but quickly shifted to a similar pure light-blue color as the proctor. Wisps of faint exoticism flowed from her nerves and being…through her right-hand and straight into the crystal, as it began to glow and radiate in ever-greater intensity.

Quickly, the exotic radiance of both her eyes and the crystal shifted to a radiant midnight-blue sort of color; dark with traces of black, bright and luminescent as if it were the color of shadowy twilight itself. The radiance and glow intensified…and intensified, becoming extremely potent as exotic wisp-dusty radiance began to smoke and steam from the crystal itself.

The proctor’s eyes…widened as he stared, surprised. Yet, this display was not over. Quickly, the ignited radiance shifted again, from radiant midnight-blue to a dark, blackish, midnight-purple sort of color, similar to the prior…yet darker and more ominous: the thematic color of dark magic. Although the radiance and glow of the crystal was now less potent and less extreme than it had been prior, it still remained strong and pronounced.

Yet, before the proctor could even nod in acknowledgment, the crystal and her ignited eyes suddenly shifted again to the radiant bright-yellowy glow of light itself, which was as equally potent; an equally strong affinity.

Her ignited radiance then shifted to a fiery red-orange color, before suddenly shifting to a radiant icy-blue color followed by a shift to a radiant smokey-grey color; all far more moderate yet, nevertheless, potent affinity. The crystal’s potency and glow diminished after this, but the ignited colors continued to cycle and shift to the absolute bewilderment of the staring proctor.

It shifted to a radiant skyish-blue-white color, invoking the sense of air, then to a watery-blue radiance, followed by an earthly coppery-brown radiance. From there, the crystal shifted to a lifely-green radiance, then to a deathly bleak, black and white-grey radiance, followed by a change to a ghostly grey and teal sort of colored radiance.

Finally, the cycle of shifting radiant colors ended with the same light-blue radiance of the proctor’s own. The crystal dimmed completely as the ignited radiance returned to ‘base’.

The bewildered and stunned proctor stared…nodding away, letting go of her forehead as he backed away slightly. His ignited eyes deactivated as they returned to normalcy, his natural eye color returning. The sigil faded and withered back into obscurity, leaving behind only a faint ‘signa-burn’, destined to wither away shortly in kind.

The denizen, likewise, was extremely shocked; her, now deignited, eyes widened, her hand not letting go of the crystal. Frozen, stunned, bewildered, even more so than the proctor himself.

“Gods’ sacred…” the proctor finally began to remark in absolute awe, his prior ‘done-with-existence’ attitude seemingly fading; “…extreme affinity for shadow, strong affinity for light and dark, potent in fire, ice, and vapor…with adequate affinities for wind, water, earth, weaker but still prominent affinities for life, death, spirit…and even some affinity for pure…with wild and anti-magic being the only ones absent… You have almost total affinities for all traditional schools…” he remarked with widened eyes; “…a prodigy…a true prodigy”.

The denizen nodded away…finally letting go as she slowly backed away; her entire existence overthrown as it seemed to be flashing before her very eyes. She was genuinely, in every conceivable way, shocked; “…wow… Alrightly then…alrightly then… Wow…this was not…part of…the plan, not at all…actually… Uhuh…rightly” she mumbled out with stunned mind.

The proctor, without any delay, immediately snatched her document out from her hands without even asking, affixing it to a special clipboard of sorts before writing into it. Eagerly writing away, he filled out new details, before providing a special stamp. Afterwards, he took out a special card, one he hardly ever did in all his time in being a screening-proctor, filling it out in detail in kind.

“Take this document and special skip-card back to the center counter…there is no need for any further assessment, with that card your qualifications are presupposed… not only are you approved for the application, you are officially recommended by me for immediate selection: you are a prodigy in every sense…this level of natural talent is hardly seen!” he remarked with quite the energy, returning her document along with that special card of his; “Would that we were in older times, you would have been able to make it to level-10 well before you reached my age… But I assure you, you will advance to level-4—level-5 if I place word in… To deny such a right to someone so rare is a disservice to the magical arts” he remarked further, lamenting somewhat.

The denizen nodded, her eyes still bewildered, as she accepted the document and card…her mind still processing it all; “…huh…alrightly…then” she mumbled out, before turning her eyes to the foreigner; “I guess…your words…may have given me…Fortune’s luck…” she remarked.

“…so it seems, I suppose” the foreigner responded.

The denizen began to depart away from the crystal, the proctor’s excitement and energy fading instantly as his visibly tired eyes glared right at the foreigner. He sighed; “now…you, you are next…let’s get this over with…” he said, his voice presuming her failure in advance.

“…oh, right! May I…uhm…remain here? I would like to watch…” the denizen, or…rather ‘prodigy’ now, asked.

The proctor waved his hand in a meh whatever gesture; “Fine…just be sure to head straight for the center counter when this is done, from there you will be heading straight to the head mage’s office” he responded.

The foreigner gently placed her handbag to the side, before making way to the crystal, her mind cogitating.

Hmm…judging by what she had just observed, that ‘spell’ of his, combined with the crystal’s engraved sigil which ‘primed’ a response, seemed to have induced an ignited state. The spell then probably helped the prodigy guide her…erm…‘mana’ into the crystal, since its activation was seemingly contingent on the spell itself; but as for the crystal itself…she did not really know what direct function and role it played in this, if any at all. Perhaps it was only there due to ritualistic necessity? Hmm…and that ‘affinity reveal’… How that complex sequence of effects was induced…she did not know.

Indeed, such was the nature of the arcane: always far too complex and always with far too many variables and interactions effects at play. Yet…regardless, what she did know by this point was that…she was most probably going to fail this ‘assessment’—an obvious outcome in retrospect, yet she had still paid that fee… Ugh.

The foreigner halted before the crystal, the proctor standing near once again who groaned in a largely indifferent exhausted sigh. She stared at the engraved sigil of the arcane, a sigil that pierced into the very fabrics of her soul; a sigil that latched the absolute attention of…something imbued deep within.

Her mask-obscured eyes began to ignite…somewhat more than they already were, the cyanic radiance intensifying…to a point, the ignited sigil expanding…to a slight degree. She could place either her left or right hands, since both were dominant; but…mirroring the majority dominant hand preferences of these lands and that of the denizen prior, she opted for her right-hand… which was also the one…she herself…tended to use the most.

She gently placed her right-hand upon it; such an odd, strange, and cold crystal, it was most certainly forged from exotic material compounds…by an arcane talent or art. This crystal was imbued with the arcane; she could…not necessarily detect it… but…it was evident to her and…something imbued deep within.

She exhaled a faint breath, before glancing at the proctor; “…just so that you can know, I am not taking off the mask” she stated in advance…rather bluntly.

“Yes yes, it won’t make much a difference” the proctor responded indifferently, before firmly plopping his hand upon her forehead…at least what parts of her forehead he could.

She stared at the crystal, closing her mask-obscured eyes, concentrating, the proctor doing the same as the process before began to repeat itself. He uttered the same words as his eyes ignited into radiance once again, ‘mana’ wisping ever-faintly from his hand and into her being, his right-hand glowing in magical radiance.

She concentrated and focused, attempting to ‘funnel’ her ‘mana’ into the crystal. Moments passed yet…nothing; more moments passed…yet only for more nothing.

“…huh?” the proctor’s breaths mumbled out, seemingly alerted so suddenly. He adjusted his grip on her forehead, moving his hand higher and more away from her masquerade. “…I am not getting…a response” he remarked, somewhat bewildered.

She sighed faintly; well, of course not. Her automated encoded protocols included a myriad of precautions and protective measures which safeguarded against unauthorized external influences and contaminations, granting immunity or, at least, heavy resistance to many things, including that spell of his. Never mind, also, that she was already in a total activated state by default.

Yet, after some deep…deep…deep concentration and focus, finally a response was induced through her own commanding volition; so stubborn and lazy, such a…thing…always seemed to be. So much effort was required to make it do anything new or foreign, in absence of explicit command procedures or ‘rituals’. Such was its nature…or rather general pattern and tendency: as adaptive yet as stubborn as the very mind it so imprinted from.

Very faint and ever-hard-to-see dusty cyanic exoticism wisped from her nerves and being, flowing into the crystal. The crystal began to faintly glow…barely…in cyanic radiance.

“…base?” the proctor remarked, noticing the crystal was finally responding; “…so faint too…hardly any…huh” he further remarked in a murmur. The proctor waited, the crystal did not become any brighter or more responsive. He sighed as he let go of her head, his eyes returning to normalcy.

Yep. She failed. She already knew that…though…she kept her hand on the crystal; she had wasted an entire gold coin on this, after all, and…well…sometimes such affairs simply required time.

“Two…rare birds in a single day…” the proctor remarked, standing away, staring; “There are…two…very rare birds… those born with extreme natural potential”—he glanced at the denizen— “such as prodigies like her”—he then turned back to the foreigner—“and those who are born…still and with absolutely zero potential… And forgive me to say this…but that…is what you are” thus he remarked in genuine remorse.

He sighed; “…my expectations for you were…minimal, but…this is just… I cannot even scoff at this… This is…disheartening; and when I say…zero potential, I mean…null in absolute… To even cast the most basic spell…or even use one of those adventurer ‘skills’ of the Guild—any arcane usage at all…could kill you; I was barely able to get a response from your manafield… It is just so faded and…barely existent at all” he remarked and explained. “I do not know from where you hail, but it is clear…the arcane in its entirety…must not be your people’s specialty at all… I have never seen this degree of…unresponsiveness” he stated further.

The prodigy, hearing this, averted her eyes away as they looked down…her affect clearly dampened and dimmed; “Fortune is never not without her debts…I guess” her breaths faintly mumbled out, saddened greatly, seemingly.

Hmm…well, such was to be expected…yet…oddly, the foreigner felt strange…very strange; her hand refused to let go of the crystal. It was not just because of the coin she had spent for this show and ritual…but also…his words. The way he so…patronizingly spoke to her made her feel…very strange…as if she were beneath him.

A primitive denizen—of all things—besmeeching her about her own arcane capabilities…certainly landed the wrong way in the deepest shadows of her mind, and she could only barely comprehend it. She was not necessarily irritated or annoyed as much as…she was suddenly filled with an apparent, yet strong and potent, desire to…show and demonstrate a certain point.

This crystal had been conjured and forged with ‘magic’ and the arcane; it was composed of the same exotic…stuff, then—stuff which she so happened to be…somewhat proficient at snatching. Now, of course, she was without her proper ‘conduit’—never mind her true mask—thus…showing such a point was going to be a more esoteric and tedious endeavor, but not an impossible one.

Time slowed as her mind sharpened and fixated, she took a deep…deep breath, her hand even more firmly touching the crystal. Her left-hand began to move, its fingers…dancing and weaving in a coordinated rhythmic flow, the arm bobbing slightly and faintly.

This dance of weaving fingers was not random… no, it was a ritual; it was a procedure. Each gesture was paired with a deeply internalized code, each sequence of movements conveyed instructions and commands understandable only to that which was imbued deep within her and her alone.

Her ignited eyes intensified to a degree; wisps of dusty cyanic radiance began to flow and dance from her being, becoming more radiant and visible yet still hard to see. The proctor, however, ever-attuned to such arcane matters, could immediately tell that something was off. The ‘feeling’ in the air around had changed, so to speak.

Wisps of cyanic exoticism danced along to the rhythmic tune of her weaving fingers, flowing and etching itself into the crystal, as if strings were being stitched into its very fabrics, as if ignited veins of devouring cyanic decay were being engraved into its body.

The crystal began to glow and illuminate, emanating and radiating more as those growing veins of ignited cyanic exoticism stitched, infested, and began to crack; yet, oddly enough, such processes still remained rather faint and barely visible even as the intensity increased—indeed, for visibility in both directions was often optional, if not…inconsistent. For her standards…this was not really that much work being exerted.

Her ‘mana’ began to devour and assimilate the arcane crystal and its exotic imbued compounds, dusty cyanic exoticism wisping off as more violent cracks began to form. Gradually and gradually…before suddenly a critical point, as the crystal so quickly became overwhelmed, the devouring radiance intensifying…intensifying…and intensifying, before the crystal suddenly burst and shattered in glittering radiant cyanic fury, bits and pieces dissolving away into exotic snow-dusty wisps, which faded and disappeared into the obscurity of her ‘manafield’.

Devoured and assimilated; information extracted; exoticism synthesized and repurposed. All that was left were only the basic foundations of the once-existing crystal and a room filled with a foggy glittering hue of cyanic exoticism and residual left-overs…all fading away steadily and gradually…not toxic to breathe, at least.

Her mask-obscured eyes stabilized and returned to their default active state, hidden radiance dimming. “Now it is not as ‘faded’; it was simply with the hunger” the foreigner remarked, coldly, her mask-obscured ignited eyes glancing vaguely, her hand still in place as if the crystal were still there; “You rely too much on the eyes to see the things that cannot be seen, the things that do not have to be seen” thus she remarked further…coldly.

Both the prodigy and the proctor stared blankly, minds short-circuiting as they processed what had just occurred.

“…w-was… W-w-what even was…that? I don’t think…I’ve ever seen magic like that…was that even…magic?” the prodigy remarked, once again at a total loss; truly, this day had been nothing but filled with endless surprises.

The proctor too was frozen; immobile, breathing weightily, nodding away slightly…his mind still processing. He calmed, finally, exhaling a deep breath; “…it appears I misspoke” he began to say, “so…there still remains things in existence we do not fully understand…” His eyes were still somewhat wide in bewildered, yet also disconcerted, fascination; “and…we do happen to make…exceptions for such alien arts…”