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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 8, 2010 22:08:47 GMT -5
 Sweat drops prickled the girl’s pale – but somehow not quite alabaster –skin. An equally matching coloured hands swiped across the skin from which the liquid hung, wiping them from her skin and onto the floor. Everything was quiet, maybe a little too quiet, but that that was how she liked it right now. Even the smashing of the sweat drops against the earth’s soil could be heard, if one listened closely enough. Yes, it was that quiet.
Eerily quiet, even, what with the surrounding trees that threatened to hold Reverie captive, but to them, the pink-haired girl paid no mind. It was somewhat soothing, to say the least, the peaceful quiet. Not even the wind blew, softly nor harshly, almost as if it didn’t exist. Even in this part of Elydresia, such a remote silence and location was rare – unnerving. Even the creatures that existed only in this magical realm took no refuge in this certain area. There was just something about it that repelled... something that screamed “unwanted”. The littlies of their kind were warned not to stray here, for it was rumoured that strange happenings occurred in this place, strange traces of magic when no one cast them, ghoulish sounds that emanated and echoed throughout the entire forest... Of course, that was the reason she had chosen this place.
Reverie was one of those rare few – it was rumoured to be as few as seven could coexist at any one time due to the chaos it could bring about – they called a summoner. Gifted not only with the skills of the magi, summoners could also bring about a spirit that was imprisoned or perhaps resided in another time to assist them in their quest for the Holy Grail. Each one was “assigned” a different spirit; however, the spirit could very much reject the summoner if they did not seem fit to command them. These spirits were more or less the medium of a summoner’s power; although they held ties to magic, most of their attack prowess centered around the existence of their spirits. Without them, they were sitting ducks, no longer capable of fighting for that one prized trophy – the Holy Grail. A chalice that could grant the winner and their spirit any sole wish they wanted, it was truly something to be sought for.
She had no problem with that whole concept except that “fighting” part. Reverie was not someone who was exactly attuned to violence; she preferred to stay home and read books and practice her magic to better hone it. She was strongly opposed to the idea, however her parents had blessed her with their good graces and repeatedly reminded her that it was an honour to be one of the seven. But really, it didn’t feel like that. It felt like she was being drafted into a war she had no interest in participating forcefully. Aside from that, she wasn’t exactly the fighting type, as she’d had no prior experience in the battlefield. And ultimately, it wasn’t in her best interest to draw blood and terminate the opponent. It just wasn’t her style.
So then, what had changed her mind? The answer was so simplistic: the Holy Grail. For that one lone object could bring about the very concept of peace, peace not only in the human world, but in the magical realms as well. She would wish for everyone’s coexistence, that there be no ill will between the impossible-to-ignore divide that cut across everyone’s kingdoms. Yes, it was for that purpose that she chose to fulfill her destiny as one of the rare seven: a summoner.
Reverie smiled a rather exhausting grin as she wiped the sweat of her brow. She leaned back into a sitting position, examining her work. There, in the brown, luscious soils of Elydresia, lay the symbol of the standard star, surrounded by a pentagon. It was about five feet in length, painted entirely from the dyes that she found at her house. The star was carved, etched deeper into the soil than the pentagon was, and was pure white in color. On the outside, the pentagon complemented it with a bright yellow color. With this complete, she was ready.
It was both an exciting experience and a frightening one, as the blue-eyed girl had never done something like this before. Stories were told that this was an easy feat to accomplish – summoning the spirit – but getting it to obey you may have a different story. That was the fact she was more worried about: would her spirit like her? hate her? completely despise her? She shuddered at the thought – she never revelled being on someone’s bad side. But it was too late to worry about that now; right now, she had to focus on getting this right.
Pushing herself off the dirt with a low groan, Reverie sat cross-legged at the pentagon’s base. The white gloves that amplified her powers were donned without a second thought. Black eyebrows creased as the young girl frowned, concentrating...
“Oh, great spirit of the past. It is I, a humble Magi who hath called you from this world, summoning you from the world of other. Please heed my cry!” The last word resounded in the vicinity, followed by a large gust of wind. The greenery bowed in respect, acknowledging a presence that was soon to make itself known.
Reverie’s hands, which were raised, now smacked together in a prayerful position. Mana was concentrated on her right hand, until the white glove that coated her hand sparkled, glowing from a bright purple to a bright white. When this was done, she held her hand outright, palm facing outward. “Isis to the south, Selket to the west...” As these words were said, a flash of white erupted from the glove, landing on the star’s base. Slowly, the light – a manifestation of her power – traced along the star’s painting on the ground, leaving a glowing trail in its wake.
Simultaneously, mana was concentrated on her left glove, which now radiated a light yellow color. In the same motion, she held it out aligned with the other. “Nephthys to the north, Neith to the east...” An explosion occurred once more, and the light landed on the pentagon’s outline, tracing the painting as the other light had.
“I summon, thee!” With those words leaving her mouth, the two lights joined at the tip of the pentagon, causing the whole canvas to glow an immense color of white and yellow. And for a moment, Reverie could see nothing.
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 8, 2010 23:46:42 GMT -5
 --- the coldest blood runs through my veins ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( YOU KNOW MY NAME )[/center] The summoning, as always, was painful. Centuries spent asleep in the Throne of Heroes had left Nehayat accustomed to her long rest; for some reason, her Assassin class caused potential summoners to often pass over her. Perhaps she did not match their standards of honor in battle or in warfare. Nehayat thought they were all fools. Her memories of her life as a mortal were brief, and fading more each year, but she knew that she had been feared more than any charging swordsman or galloping knight. Her power was the death dealt in the paralyzing poison, or the blade disguised as a helping hand. She had finesse. But her pride was always forgotten whenever she was finally summoned; the bother made up for that. The tendrils of magic that licked at her, curling about her essence and demanding that she return to the mortal realms were surprisingly powerful. That meant that Nehayat was dealing with someone who knew what she was doing at the very least. And so she relented, slowly.
The gravity, the weight of having a body was off-putting for a moment, before the Assassin forced herself to embrace the feeling. As her senses returned, she scanned the environment. She felt her new Master immediately of course; the summoner was a beacon of power just in front of Nehayat. What disturbed the Heroic Spirit was the quiet. Besides her summoner's rattling breaths, there was no hint of noise. Even the wind seemed to have vanished. Where was she? Her sight was the last human sense to return to her, but the moment it did, Nehayat snapped her eyes open to find the answer to that question. A forest, with full green trees and springy dirt beneath her feet. For a moment a pang of disappointment flashed through the spirit, a remnant of the life she could barely recall flashing before her eyes: hot desert sands beneath her feet, the bite of a sandstorm's fierce winds, the harsh thrill of working under such conditions; but the feeling was gone in a moment. Nehayat put the dim memory out of mind and instead gazed steadily at her new Master. They both must have been quite a shock to each other.
Her Master was a female. Nehayat had never been summoned by another woman before, and that was the first surprise--not that she let any emotion cross her blank face, of course. The second shock was how young the girl appeared to be. Perhaps it was her pale skin and brightly colored hair, but the summoner seemed defenseless, even as Nehayat could sense the waves of power rolling off of her. White gloves covered the girl's arms up to her elbow, and she glistened with the exertion of summoning her newly acquired Servant. Nehayat narrowed her gaze to her Master's face and noted with some amusement that the girl's eyes were just a shade of blue lighter than her own were. Though to be honest, Nehayat herself could not be commenting on appearances. She had materialized in the clothes she had been buried in, the clothes she had died in.
Dark pants tucked into black ankle boots covered her from the waist down. A loose shirt made from the same material as the trousers covered her torso, while tightly wrapped bandages around her wrists kept the excess material from hanging over her hands and throwing off her ability to fight. Her waist-length black hair (Nehayat's one vanity as a mortal) was pinned in a sleek bun on the top of head. Her daggers and short sword had even been re-produced, the spirit noted happily, touching her right hand to the sword's hilt. But enough was enough; time to address business.
Taking a step forward, although she was careful not to step out of the pentacle, Nehayat inclined her head towards her Master. "I am the Heroic Spirit, Nehayat Vakili," she intoned, her voice devoid of any betraying emotion. "I would feel more comfortable if you addressed me as 'Sabra', however. Keeping my identity secret will aid us both." The woman drew quiet for a moment, and then released her next questions. Both answers would help her get a feel for her summoner; hopefully the girl was of no small intelligence, and had reasons for her actions. If so, Nehayat would serve her...not happily, but without reservation. "What is your reason for entering the Holy Grail War? And did you choose to summon me, the Assassin Servant, intentionally?"
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 9, 2010 19:07:40 GMT -5
It wasn’t what she’d expected; but of course it wasn’t. She’d had no prior expectations, after all.
That wasn’t to say that she’d had no idea what she was doing. The rose-haired girl had pre-planned this ceremony, and thus had a vague prediction of what was to happen. But there was always that invisible yet existing divide that the unnatural could happen, that the improbable could become probable. That feeling of doubt that she held was indeed plausible, but it was not something she could let imprison her; she could not let her heart waver in the slightest. It only took a twitch, a misdirection of her magic that could cause the ritual or summoning to fail, or even permanently deform or mutate the spirit of long ago. Aside from the fact that it be less that pleasing to the eye, the girl was sure that her spirit would not appreciate an oddly amputated arm, particularly after having been disturbed from their imprisoned slumber in a place where most spirits dwelled. It was disconcerting, to say the very least. And thus, she had to avoid any margin of error – there was only to be perfection.
Soft thuds as her heart palpitated in a more rushed manner, with both excitement and fear. It could hardly be audible over the crackling sound that exploded from in front of her, the energy of her light magic temporarily blinding her as the summoning commenced. She didn’t know what to expect, except for one thing she had solidly etched in her mind: it would not fail. No, she could not afford failure in the slightest, for if she did, she would fail her mission, the quest for the Holy Grail. Even with someone of a low self-esteem as her, her determination was truly incomparable when it truly counted.
As the explosion of light resided, Reverie’s elbow was doubtfully lowered, which had been reflexively used to cover her eyes just a moment ago. Hurried breaths left the girl’s mouth, but steady like that of a seasoned marathon runner. The exertion from casting the magic took now its toll on her, and it was something she was not particularly accustomed to. Never had she had cast such a strong spell that literally left her breathless and almost emptied of mana. The summoning truly was a spectacle of beauty, but with its high price. However, the conclusion was more important: if they won the war, it would all be worth it in the long run.
Pale eyelids blinked furiously as Reverie struggled to see through the dust that had been aroused as the ritual was completed – successfully, apparently. It didn’t take long for her crystal blue eyes to lay their sights on a figure that rested in the dead center of the diagram. The first thought that entered her mind was one of surprise. It was partly because she had never seen a spirit before, but also because of the spirit’s rather odd way of dressing. It looked to be suited in a one-piece outfit, matching colors with black bandages that were wrapped around her arms and legs. She held a sword – a movement that Reverie did not fail to miss – along with some visible daggers. But that was not the most surprising thing of them all. It was the face of the girl herself.
Yes, she had summoned a girl, a fact that Reverie took lightly, as to her, all races and genders were equal so it would not matter much. The spirit had godly beauty – at least in her eyes – with pale skin that almost matched the tint of her own. Her deep-set eyes bore into her own blue ones, as though trying to penetrate through them and read her very soul. Blue-black hair framed her face, reaching her waist. All in all, her spirit’s appearance, although somewhat threatening, was regal and beautiful. She was truly something – no, someone – to be proud of.
Reverie’s mouth was held agape in surprise, despite the contrasting look of indifference on the woman’s. She felt as though frozen in place, a complete statue. It took her a few moments to come to, visibly shaking her head as she mentally slapped herself. Well that was a great impression, frozen like an idiot just staring. Oh, well, she had to do the best she could now, to make a good – or decent – impression. She only managed a few stuttering words, and although she had meant them to sound brave, strong, and commanding as a summoner should, it was slightly shaky. “H-hello, spirit. I welcome you to our world.” She nodded, managing a comforting smile.
She listened intently as the spirit spoke, revealing her name and asking questions. Reverie had the feeling that this spirit did not like to mess around – blunt, and direct to the point. She swallowed, and tried to put on a brave face, despite the slight fear and great awe and excitement that were in the deepest recesses of her heart.
“Nehayat Vakili”, Reverie said the words, turning them over in her mouth until they were familiar to her. “My name is Reverie Fuyuhana. And I will respect your wishes then, Sabra. But I thank you for trusting me enough with your real name.” She smiled a dazzling smile, wanting nothing more than to form a great camaraderie with the spirit. She was momentarily stunned at the next question, but she’d already prepared her answer beforehand, so it only took her a second or two to recover. “I’m questing for the Holy Grail to destroy all the ill will that no doubt exists between everyone within the magical world, and with the human realm. I wish to bring about a complete and harmonious peace.”
Well the truth was, she hadn’t exactly known which spirit would come out. But being a tactful person, she didn’t see fit to just blurt that out. That would just be plain rude, wouldn’t it? “Ah, truthfully, I only wished to be assisted by any spirit, and it so happens you were who fate had chosen for me.” She paused, and still in her sitting position, bowed her head in respect, although she knew it should be other way around. It expressed her sincerest apologies and reverence. “And since it is you, I wish you that you would help me, Sabra, on this quest. It would be very much appreciated. Please, lend me your power, and mine shall be yours.”
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 10, 2010 0:07:45 GMT -5
 --- you only live twice, or so it seems: ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( ONE LIFE FOR YOURSELF AND ONE FOR YOUR DREAMS )[/center]
As her summoner studied her newly acquired Servant, Nehayat took a closer look at her environment. The brief observations she had made during the initial summoning didn't please her at all; she still felt exposed and vulnerable in this area. Of course she trusted her summoner to performed the magic in a safe and secluded area, but Nehayat would never have become the renowned Assassin by allowing herself to relax. There was still a feeling of stillness hanging in the air, a disquieting lack of noise that set Nehayat on edge, but no obvious threats presented themselves. Tapping a finger against the hilt of her sword, the spirit gave a small noise of disapproval and turned her attention back on her Master, as the girl broke the silence with a greeting and then proceeded to answer Nehayat's questions.
So Reverie was her name? The name was odd, echoing off the walls of Nehayat's mind like an unknown poison without an antidote. But she supposed that her name must seem archaic and unconventional as well. She had been gone from the Mortal Realm for many years. Perhaps names like her Master's were commonplace now. As the girl thanked her for trusting her with her name, Nehayat fell back into a study of indifference; a study that was broken when Reverie confided why she was seeking the Holy Grail. Nehayat frowned slightly, her pale forehead creasing with concentration. Peace? A complete peace across all the realms. The Assassin felt strangely conflicted. Without war, there would be need for her skills and no reason to keep her memory in the annuls of history. All that she had accomplished in her short motal life would be undone, winding away with the breeze. And yet...if there were no more wars, no one would seek the Grail and, she would finally be allowed some peace. And if somehow she and her summoner won the war, Nehayat would be able to grant the secret wish of her heart, her shame and her dearest desire.
Wrestling her expression into the previous blank stare, Nehayat listened to Reverie's final answer. Fate had chosen the two of them to be together? Nehayat was not sure if believed in concepts such as “destiny” and “fate” anymore, but if it was the will of Akasha that they be partnered, perhaps this would finally be the war where the Assassin was released from her shackles. And besides, from what little she knew of the girl, she was a decent Master; courteous, properly respectful, and far more ambitious and humane in her goals than some people that Nehayat had served. With her mind made up, the Assassin knelt on the ground before Reverie, bending her head in acknowledgement. “I, Nehayat Sabra Vakili, will serve you in the Holy Grail War. By my honor and by my duties as your Servant, I will protect you and defeat your enemies. My power is yours for as long as our contract may last, and I accept your power as well.”
Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as the magical ties settled between the two women, Nehayat exhaled. For better or for worse, her future was now tied up with this frail-looking mortal girl. For better or for worse. Pulling herself to her feet, Nehayat looked steadily at Reverie. The three command seals would be imprinted somewhere on the girl's body now. She hoped that Reverie would use them sparingly. “Is this where you live? Or will we depart for another location?” Eyeing the summoner, a sudden flash of insight came to the spirit. “Can you walk? My prevous summoners were often exhausted by the loss of their mana. If you cannot, I will carry you.” Nehayat tried to soften her tone for the last statement; she truly meant the words in kindness.
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 10, 2010 12:07:40 GMT -5
After just a few minutes, the young girl had her breathing under control. It didn’t take much for her body to adjust. As being one who possessed magic, one had to take into account the fact that there would be times when one would be completely drained, however low the chances of that were happening. Magi usually conserved their energy quite well, preferring to finish things quickly before they were drained of mana, weakened, and were therefore terminated by the opponent. This was why magical duels often did not last as long as combat-style duels; your energy and willpower was so much faster consumed that way. The longest it would last were a good few hours, but not much more than that. Glad then that she was a magical being who could easily adapt to circumstances, Reverie took one last deep breath, before acquiring enough oxygen to fully circulate her bloodstream.
Reverie straightened herself up rather shakily – although her physical body had recovered, her spiritual self was still rather drained. But she would deal with that later; it didn’t take long for her to recover. Right now, she would face the woman in front of her, the one that had the appearance of one who differed to using the lack of light – the night – and resorted to stealth and somewhat underhanded manners to accomplish the task given. One who was given duties that were to be accomplished swiftly, suddenly, and without attention. One who was sometimes charged with ending another’s life quickly through the shadowy style of assassination. The name was Nehayat Sabra Vakili, the heroic spirit, the Assassin.
Inwardly, the blue-eyed girl had questions, mostly in terms to her spirit. She always had the impression that she was one of pure heart; she always preferred peaceful, diplomatic means above violent, brute methods of combat. But her spirit – maybe she was just being stereotypical – would seem to be the exact opposite of her. She wondered then, why Nehayat was the one chosen for her. That being said, she delved deeper into her mind .The only possible explanation then, was that despite her appearances and the bad name the “assassin” had carried over the years, she was of a pure heart. At this realization, Reverie’s heart softened, and felt an instant connection with her spirit. Maybe she was wrong, but a strong part of her said otherwise. They were really in this together now.
Reverie lifted her head from the bow, glad and satisfied to have received a non-threatening answer. She hadn’t been sure of her spirit’s intentions, whether they were evil or not. But her previous enlightenment had reminded her otherwise, and she was no longer worried about being rejected. So somehow, she already knew her spirit’s answer, but regardless, it was comforting to have a solid answer. She stood up, briefly brushing the dust that had settled on her shoulders, skirt, shoes, and hair. She held hers hands out, with the same motion as when she had first summoned the spirit, both palms out. “I’m glad. Thank you very much, Sabra.” With a swift rush of mana to her gloves, another less blinding light exploded in the area, and when it had subsided, the diagram of the pentagon and the star had completely vanished. Once she had done, that, the young girl removed the glove on her right hand, and stepped towards her spirit without much care in the world, without the wary nature of a few seconds ago. The trust in her newfound was spirit was something to be envied, truly, as most summoners usually did not easily believe in theirs. The ungloved hand was placed on the spirit’s shoulder, and with a smile, blue eyes met the spirit’s black ones, accompanied by a few powerful words. “The contract is formed. With this, I entrust my life to you, and I hope you entrust yours to mine.” As she said them, she felt a burning sensation on her arm, hidden by the sleeve of her shirt. It glowed slightly, enough to be visible to both her and her spirit. The symbol of the command spell was now embedded in her arm. And that was that; it was complete.
Blue eyes broke contact with the spirit’s, and they then surveyed the environment. The only real proof of having been a summoning was just the slight settling of dust, and not much else. The diagram was now erased, and the eerie silence was back. Reverie tilted her head in response to her Sabra’s question. “Mm, well, no I don’t. I just came here because I didn’t want to be disturbed. We’ll go back to Vildia soon – that is, the central home of the Magi.”
Now that Sabra had mentioned it, she was rather tired. But being Reverie, she didn’t want to seem weak, and she didn’t want to impose. Plus, she was already up, so walking a few kilometers shouldn’t be an issue. But it was the thought and her spirit’s kind tone that counted the most, and she was absolutely ecstatic at the bond that had already formed. “No, I’m fine, but thanks anyways. Shall we go?”
Reverie moved forward, and it was only a few seconds before the question that had been at the tip of her tongue was blurted. “So, um, Sabra, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you wish of the Holy Grail?” She just hoped it wasn’t too personal a question.
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 11, 2010 12:05:33 GMT -5
 --- when the storm comes, would you be seen with me? ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( BY THE MERCILESS EYES I'VE DECIEVED? )[/center] Nehayat was slightly relieved that her Summoner didn't live in these godforsaken woods. The unfamiliar environment would have put the Assassin at a disadvantage in a fight, and would have made defending her Summoner nearly impossible. Vildia...? Most of her Grail Wars had taken place in the mortal realm. She was not well acquainted with the other worlds, though she knew of their existence. But as long as her Summoner took her to a well-defensible locations, Nehayat would adapt and learn, as she always had. That was the only way to survive.
Reverie declined the invitation to be carried, but stepped forward. As they walked, Nehayat fell in slightly to the right of her Summoner, and just behind her. The descision was unconcious and formed out of instinct; this way she could keep an eye on both Reverie and any approaching enemies. But they had barely gotten three yards when another question appeared. The wish that Nehayat desired from the Holy Grail...?
Nehayat knew that as she was now a Heroic Spirit, she must have accomplished some great good in her life that would cause her to be bound to the Throne of Heroes and trapped in the cycle of the Wars. But she had never sought any glory or fame in her life. She had been simple in her goals. Live as her order commanded her. Become the best, most reliable assassin of the order. And then, when she had risen to the position of leader—become the best leader of the order. Take the hardest missions and accomplish them. Destroy the enemies of the order. Do not fail. Perhaps her fellow spirits were different. Maybe they had willingly sought out the destruction of evil and the uprising of justice. But Nehayat had no time for such things as a mortal. She could not remember much, but she remembered her devotion to the order. The devotion that had apparently, led her to this fate. Had she poisoned a man that would have led the genocide of an entire people? Had she slit the throat of a preganat woman whose child would have set a country ablaze? Nehayat didn't know. But somehow, one of those missions had led her here. To this time and place, this war.
“My wish of the Holy Grail...” Nehayat chose her words carefully. Reverie had a right to know what kind of spirit she was saddled with. “...is to be free of it. I no longer desire this existence. I want to become mortal again, a mere human. And when I die, I want what other comes afterwards—nothingness, the hells, reincarnation—I do not want to be bound to the Throne of Heroes.”
Nehayat knew that it was foolish and shameful wish. She should have been proud that she had achieved the honor of being a designated Heroic Spirit. She was one who had surpassed mortal abilities even in life, and had been rewarded by the planet with this “gift”. Nehayat knew that if she could ask the other Heroic Spirits their wish, they could not have one as disgraceful as hers. Her own Summoner outclassed her in honor—Reverie would rather wish for the peace of all people than for her own advancement. But this was not someting Nehayat could change about herself; her own heart was an opponent she couldn't overcome. And they feared me, she thought with disgust. They called me Assassin...
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 11, 2010 14:42:16 GMT -5
The usually ever-present wind refused to yield, strangely enough, only in this place. Rather, only in the thick forest that somehow survived in the middle of the desert; an oasis, it would be called. For, weirdly enough, there was a good five kilometres of greenery to the north, south, west and east, and beyond that, it was just desert. Nothing but harsh, dry desert. Reverie had somehow made this journey unscathed, for her determination was not something that could be easily extinguished. She wanted somewhere the spirit would not feel threatened, and somewhere where said threats would not attack them after the summoning was complete. It was a tiring journey in itself, taking a good five days or a week – whichever, she had lost count. Being human, she had succumbed to the basic needs of food and water, but having a magical affinity, she had lasted longer, just a teeny bit. That was how she had arrived in the nest of the woods, safe from inside danger, as well as outside danger. After all, only very few dared to travel to this lonesome place, as there was not much of a reward except seeing the most spectacular waterfalls and cave one could ever hope to see. The pros outweighed the cons, in her opinion, and that was what had led her here. That was all that really mattered.
Having carried the weight of all those harsh conditions, Reverie would more than happily oblige to go home. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a fan of nature; nature was beautiful in itself and she would never quite tire of marvelling its beauty. But roughing it for more than a week drove her to her limits, something she wasn’t particularly used to doing. Of course, it would take another week to get back home (oh, joy) but at least this time, she had company. A journey with an accomplice wouldn’t seem as bad, especially when it was with someone whom she knew would take care of her, and vice versa. It wouldn’t matter the adverse conditions, it wouldn’t matter if it took a month. She had a feeling that with her new spirit there by her side, nothing would ever faze her again. Even though they would soon harbour the damage and pressures of being in the Holy Grail war, it would be alright, as long as they were together. Everything would be, in a sense, at peace.
A soft groan escaped the girl full lips. This was annoying; even just walking was beginning to tire her out. She might need a break after all, before going back out into the desert. This oddly located forest did have some fruits and foods of sorts, as well as a seemingly endless supply of water. She hoped that Sabra wasn’t in too much of a hurry, though. She felt bad for making her spirit wait for her humanoid needs, but it wasn’t particularly helpful for her to be half-dead in the middle of the desert, did it? Yes, she would have to stay here for a few hours or so, and at the latest, a day.
Reverie had asked her spirit quite a simplistic yet personal question, so the reply she received was one that she had not anticipated. A feeling of both shock and surprise overcame her, and she processed the Sabra’s words carefully. She didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t scary, it wasn’t out of the world... it was just... normal, a justified reply. It made her wish of peace seem so out there, something only idealists could only ever hope to achieve. Her spirit was a better person than her in this way, at least, that’s what she thought.
“That’s very understandable, Sabra,” Reverie commented casually. “I mean, I can sympathize, but not empathize, seeing as how I would never be able to know what you’ve been through, what it’s like being trapped in a cycle like that. ” She paused meaningfully, before turning to Sabra and looking her straight in the eye. “I would however, consider it also an honour to be chosen like that among the so many others, although having to redo it over and over may take its toll on you. Still, being human is not all it’s cracked up to be. What I’m basically saying is, I’m not going to try and change your mind or view on this, because I’m not you and we’re different people. I just want you to know that whatever your decision is at the end of your journey, I’ll be there. We’ll work through this together so both our dreams will be realized, alright? You can count on me.” She smiled, hoping it would bring some comfort to the troubled woman.
It was odd, she had never spoken so openly like this before. That must have been what it meant by forming a bond with someone; secrets were nonexistent. By the pace they were going, it would be a good five kilometres before they reached the desert again. At that moment, another idea came to her head. “Hm, Sabra. Take out your blade and fight. Fight against me, and in this moment, we shall see if you are worthy of me, and I, you.” Reverie knew that took a lot of courage to say, since she was practically drained. But she wouldn’t let that show, no. She had to prove to Sabra that she had a strong summoner, one she could fully and completely depend on.
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 11, 2010 20:15:27 GMT -5
 --- if you take a life, do you know what you give? ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( ODDS ARE YOU WON'T LIKE WHAT IT IS )[/center] The two had walked for some time, and yet the strange peace of the forest refused to yield at all. Nehayat believed Reverie that this was a safe place, and no one would would assault them, but the spirit really wouldn't feel truly safe again until they had reached a defensible location. Somewhere where the spirit could set her traps and wire, then guard her Summoner. Wars were too often lost in a moment of carelessness by a foolish fighter who believed that the only combat would be honorable and fought by way of duel. Not if Nehayat had her way. She would prefer to end each and every Master with a dagger to their back after letting the strongest kill each other off. That was the only way to be safe. But it wasn't up to Nehayat, so the Summoners still had some time left.
As a noise escaped Reverie's lips, Nehayat looked at her sharply. Her Summoner shouldn't have passed up the chance to be carried. There was no shame in being weakened by an honorable risk like the one Reverie had taken. Nehayat had seen some strange fruits on a few bushes; nothing she recognized, but they appeared to be edible. She was about to suggest they stop when Reverie answered her question. The girl was...comforting her? The attempt at kindness was not lost on the Spirit and she allowed herself a brief smile in response to the girl's own.
“It is an honor,” Nehayat replied. “I recongize this. My own weakness is what keeps me from acknowledging my duty and fulfulling the task the world has assigned me.” The spirit looked down for a moment. “Being human...in my mortal life, I was not given a choice to experience emotion or pleasure. I was a servant of the order that I had been bound with since birth. Even if being human is painful, I would like to know that pain, at least once. And I...I believe that you will win this war. You are the first Master who has summoned be with such noble intentions. If destiny exists, I believe it has placed us together because it is the will of the world that your wish will prevail.”
With that sentiment expressed, Nehayat was understandably taken aback by Reverie's next words? Fight her? Before Reverie's lips even finished forming the final word, Nehayat was in action. She became a blur of motion, one hand seizing Reverie's right wrist and twisting it behind the girl's back, the other hand gripping a dagger that slid out of Nehayat's sleeve and placing the tip at Reverie's heart. “There is no worthy, or unworthy,” Nehayat said, her lips just above Reverie's ear. “There is only how we fit together as a team. There is no other Heroic Spirit like me. And I will never again be your opponent outside of this moment. You will fight the Summoners, the ones who are magi such as yourself. I cannot teach you how to fight or defend against them; that is something you either already know or that you will soon learn. And I will never allow another Heroic Spirit to touch you. They are my enemy.” Relasing the Summoner, Nehayat slipped the dagger back up into the hidden sheath and stepped backwards.
“Besides, you appear tired,” she said. “There would be no honor in fighting you in such a state. I-I apologize if I hurt you as well.”
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 12, 2010 1:06:47 GMT -5
An accidental groan escaped her lips, and almost at once, she wished she could take it back. At that same instant, she could feel her spirit’s eyes on her, and she didn’t need to look at her eyes to figure out that it was a look of concern being overpowered with annoyance. After all, Reverie had been the one to say that she was fine, and now here she was giving out on her. It was a shame, a human slip, and she swore it would never happen again. She had to be strong; she had to show that she could weather anything the world through at her. All she did was give her spirit a comforting smile, signalling that she was alright. Still, what she wouldn’t give for a soft bed and warm chocolate at that moment...
Looking up, she took careful note of her surroundings. The sun was over by the horizon, and it looked like there was to be a good few hours before it would successfully set. This was wonderful; it was always best to travel the desert at night when there wasn’t as much heat in the air. She predicted that by nightfall, they should be a fourth of the way back home, even if they didn’t rush. All would be well; they would be back home in a week or so. But the first thing was to gather enough food for said journey. She had leftovers from her trip to this place, but not much was left. There was no way she’d last for more than three days with what she had in stock. Briskly straying from the path, Reverie landed herself among lush greenery, ever-present in this desert oasis. There were fruits of all shapes, sizes and colors, all calling out to her in different melodies. Smiling, she merely gestured for Sabra to follow, hoping she understood without Reverie telling her the purpose of being sidetracked.
It was a few fruits, nuts, and twigs later that Sabra spoke once more in response to her previous words. Those words that were meant to encourage the spirit and make her feel less bad about herself. After all, Reverie could only begin to guess what the life of an assassin would be like, and that if one was chosen above the others, then he/she would have to have been the best at committing assassinations and various tasks bequeathed upon them. It was not a life she could have ever lived, being as gentle and nonviolent as she was. It was truly nothing to be ashamed of, a look that she could determine on Sabra’s face. It made her heart ache for the spirit that would be forever trapped in this endless cycle if she failed. The burden on her shoulders was ever-greater now, and the need to prove herself deemed undeniable. With a sudden fierce look on her face, Reverie spoke in a rather commanding voice, “You know we all have a weakness; that’s what makes us perfect humans – flawed. So this is not something you should be grieving over, or be ashamed of. However, you cannot let them hold you back from what you really desire to do in life, whether it be staying in this cycle or becoming a human. Either way, I will try my best. I know we will win; we just both have to give it our all.”
Indeed a dramatic speech, but Reverie hadn’t given her spirit time to let it all sink in, as her next words were that of a challenge. Sadly, however, it was too soon intercepted by Sabra in movements that even she herself could not trace – as was expected of the top assassins. She smiled inwardly; she had a strong spirit, both in mind and body, the logical thing she came to conclude. A feeling came to her, overwhelming her senses. Pride. It was pride in her spirit, for having been blessed with such a wonderful one. This was why, as Sabra retracted her blades and renounced the lack of honour in pursuing combat with Reverie, she had an even more uncontrollable desire to fight. To show Sabra that she was strong, no matter what she thought. She had to prove she was worth it, and there was only one way she knew how.
“Why, I’m not tired in the least”, Reverie said. As the words left her mouth, a sword formed out of seemingly nothing appeared in her right hand, and as it did, she put her gloves on one by one. The sword itself looked nothing more than a ghostly image of one, pure white in color with absolutely no dent mark or imperfections. She had little to average experience in the field of swordsmanship, but it didn’t take an expert to do what she did next: slash downwards from Sabra’s shoulder to leg. If it made contact, it would hurt – quite a lot, as the sword was not made from anything “normal”, per say. Rather, it had been formed from Reverie’s own dwindling mana. Following after, she jumped backwards, gaining some distance between the two.
That being said, she started breathing even more rapidly as the sword formation drained her. Sweat glistened as it showered down from her forehead, but the look of determination on her was insurmountable. Reverie looked at her spirit with a set frown on her face, not from anger, but from fatigue. She guessed it was about time to use that attack.
Groaning from the exertion, Reverie’s gloved left hand which did not hold the sword was raised. For a few seconds, it seemed that nothing was happening, and it would appear that way. However, if one was patient enough, they would see a tiny white ball forming in the palm of her hand, almost invisible to other eyes. It remained about two millimetres in diameter, and floated on her palm. What was she doing, one might ask? Oh, a simple process of absorbing light from the nearby surroundings and using the particles’ energies to resupply her own mana. It took a good few seconds, but she would trust her spirit not to attack her at such a dire moment.
A total of five seconds passed, upon which her mana was recovered halfway. There was no time to fully recharge it; she was in a battle, after all. Her breathing returned to normal, and the sword in her right hand was diagonally crossed over her torso in a defensive maneouver. But it was not her intention to use it; it was only a precaution. Lifting her left hand, Reverie pointed a gloved index finger at Sabra, and in a flicking motion like turning a key in a hole, refracted all the lights around her spirit. To this effect, the spirit would only be able to see nothing but blackness, while Reverie herself could perfectly perceive her movements.
Now it was time for the offensive.
Left palm was held outward, and with each twitch of a finger, Reverie sent a bolt of light piercing through the darkness of which Sabra would be trapped in – five, to be precise. She aimed it so it would very nearly pierce her, but never touch her. Yes, this was how her magic functioned – light was her ally. Now, all Sabra had to do was focus, and soon, their powers would be one.
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 13, 2010 0:22:09 GMT -5
 --- try to hide your hand, forget how to feel ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( LIFE IS GONE WITH JUST A SPIN OF THE WHEEL )[/center]
Reverie still wanted to fight, insisting that she wasn't tired. Sabra knew otherwise, but if her Master insisted, she would acquiescent. Her words seemed to have had no effect on Reverie, and as Sabra released her Summoner and stepped backwards, she suddenly felt very old and very tired. There was always this power struggle in the beginning, the Summoner working from some need for dominance or self-worth. Sabra just wanted this battle for the Holy Grail over with, hopefully with as little need for exertion as possible. She had never been the most straight-forward of Heroic Spirits. Her previous Masters had chafed at her dislike of direct combat, put off by Sabra's insistence on monitoring her enemies instead of confronting them, disgusted by her familiarity with poisons and underhanded methods of dealing death.
This Summoner did not seem disgusted by Sabra, but she seemed to still focus on the concept of “strength”. Strength was the ability to survive and outwit your enemies, not a measurable quanity that could be determined in a match like this. But if Reverie insisted. The pink-haird girl had barely finished speaking before a sword shimmered into existence in her hands. The Summoner slashed diagonally at Sabra and the Assassin stumbled backwards, throwing up her arms. The blade still bit into her shoulder though, dragging to the Spirit's thigh and throwing an arc of blood against the ground. Sabra stepped back, careful not to place any unnecessary weight on her injured leg, and studied her opponent; no her Summoner. This wasn't an actual enemy. Reverie had also moved away, and seemed to have been exhausted by her previous move.
As Sabra watched, the girl extended her palm. A tiny ball of light appeared, and as the seconds dragged on, Revrie seemed to gain strength. Then her magic was the manipulation of light? Almost five seconds passed before Reverie's breathing slowed to a normal pace and the girl found the strength to lift her sword again. Sabra frowned, her expression unconsciously her Master's. In a real battle, the opponent would have already been on the pink-haired magi by now. If there was a way to decrease the amount of time it took for Reverie to recover mana, she would be exposed in combat. A vulnerability to be hidden at all costs, then Sabra decided. As Reverie pointed at Sabra, the Assassin slid a dagger into each hand, gripping the hilt, just as she was plunged into darkness.
Sabra froze for a moment, eyes searching frantically through the black. Carefully, she raised a hand before her. She could sense the hand, knew it was there, but could not actually see it. For the first time in a few centuries, the Assasin felt a prickle of doubt. And then the attack came. Five blasts of light shot forth, and Sabra reacted on instinct, throwing herself flat against the ground. Three of the blasts missed, but one singed her hair, stealing away a few strands, and the fifth blast caught Sabra square in the right shoulder. She still clutched at both of her knives, though Sabra couldn't see what use they would be to her now.
The Heroic Spirit closed her eyes and tried to focus. Even if Sabra couldn't see, she had the memory of the area in her mind, and the knowledge of where Reverie had last been. Rising to her feet, the woman tilted her head to the side. In front of her, a few dozen yards...a non vital area. Sliding the knife in her left hand back up her sleeve, in one fluid motion the Assassin swung her right hand behind her head, whipped forward, and threw the dagger at Reverie's last known position. She hadn't aimed for any important spots, but if the throw was true and her Summoner hadn't moved, Reverie would have a slight cut on her arm. The attack wasn't meant to be a true offensive; just a way to unbalance Sabra's temporary opponent as the spirit assessed the situation. Her eyes still closed, she sensed her Summoner's power. The limits of whatever magic Reverie had used against her seemed to enclose the spirit in a circle that extended two meters out from where Sabra stood.
With that knowledge, Sabra tumbled to the side, tucked in to make a smaller target against any other blasts of light. Once she was sure she was out of the radius of the spell, she sprang to her feet, eyes snapping open. And yes, she could see again. The Assassin had worked in pitch-darkness before, but actually being robbed of sight itself; that was frightening. Eying her Summoner, Sabra supposed that the girl, if she meant to prove her strength, had certainly proved it. But still, Sabra admired Reverie's desire for peace more than her magical aptitude.
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 13, 2010 2:10:27 GMT -5
It disheartened her to know that she did not have an inexhaustible supply of mana, nor was it an extremely large reservoir. Most especially using it in combat situations like this, it would take some time to get used to. The formation of the light-based sword in her hand had taken much out of her. Why would one tiny sword fatigue her so easily? The answer lay in exactly how Reverie’s power worked, and if one knew these inner workings, it would be much too easy to pick her apart and conclude a weakness. It was then something of the highest secrecy, the mechanisms of her light-based magic, her arcanemancy.
Simply put, there exists in the universe millions of particles, that of which humans called “atoms” that consisted anything solid, liquid and gas – basically everything non-living that existed around them. These atoms vibrated at certain speeds, always moving except that of subzero temperatures, more precisely absolute zero. At this temperature, it was presumed by mortals’ highest minds that these particles would no longer move, but rather, stay still. However, that was beside the point. Reverie’s power called into mind these atoms’ vibrations, and since everything – including light, however different the composition – consisted of said objects, this was where her powers came into play. Basically, what she did was insert her mana into a large amount of these virtually non-existent particles, and could manipulate them in any way she wanted as long as a steady supply of mana was flowed through. This then, explained how the sword came to be out of thin air. By closely “gluing” together the particles that made up light, she was able to solidify them to a point that it produced a somewhat substantial object. The reason it glowed as such was that the light particles that had gathered reflected a white color, making every other color of the spectrum invisible.
This would explain then, why the sword would take its toll on the young girl – that meant she had to consistently force her mana into said weapon in order for it to keep its shape. Of course, less mana would be needed for its suppleness than it would have taken to actually form the sword, but mana was spent nonetheless. Tiring would be an insufficient word, so Reverie preferred not forming the sword or any weapon at all, or if it was absolutely necessary, to keep it as petite as possible to avoid having to spread mana over a larger object. Needless to say, it wasn’t a wise idea to keep it for a very long time.
Now her light absorption techniques functioned basically in the same manner, but instead of spending mana, she absorbed the energy from the atoms vibrating at hyper-speeds. Because of the large amount of energy present, it caused the glowing orb in her hand to appear; otherwise, it would have been completely invisible. The more mana she needed to recover, the longer to it to “charge”, one could say, and she did not miss the fact that it left her wide open. But that was fine as long as Sabra was her opponent. Now that her spirit would take into account this obvious flaw, she would be wiser in the future, and would be able to cover her without her say so. The little spar they had right now was, to Reverie, more of a training session so Sabra could get accustomed to her powers so that they would be able to work as a team. This was why she would, as much as possible, lessen the damage as well as making how her magic functioned as plain as she could without words.
Now, it was the orb, the black circle than encased the victim inside it when light was refracted. Basically put, the streamlined waves of light were bent in a way that it caused all other colors of the spectrum to blend together, creating the vision – and not the illusion – of pure black. However, like most of her attacks, it required consistent application of mana for it to even function. That being said, a majority – if not all – of the particles in the area of effect had traces of her spiritual energy in them. The bottom line was, if one was familiar enough with her mana’s signature, they would be able to manoeuvre through the particles easily and in the case that there was someone else in the area of effect, they could be easily eliminated. How, you ask? Simple, really. If Sabra figured it out, she would be immensely powerful in battle. Since everything in the vicinity would be endowed with her mana, any stranger or foreign entity in it would be easy to pinpoint, seeing as how they would have a completely different signature than hers. This would allow Sabra, then, to monitor the enemy’s location and movements based on the alterations in Reverie’s mana in the space. For example, if the enemy were to raise his sword, the particles around his arm would make way for the movement, making his attack obvious and predictable. But again, the difficult part was not absorbing the knowledge, but practicing it. After it, it would be much too easy to have Sabra hurt in the blackness, too, if she were not careful.
As predicted, her light attacks barely singed her spirit, and Reverie was glad. Sabra was human, after all, and would still feel the pain from the injuries. As the pink-haired girl looked on, she was surprised to see a dagger heading her way. She’d barely had time to register it, although she could completely see Sabra from outside the area of effect. It nicked her arm, but just barely – obviously Sabra’s meticulous work. Followed up by an agile movement, she had rolled out of the black area and was back into the light again. Reverie smiled inwardly; Sabra had one part figured out. If one could remember the location of the area of effect and its size, then one could easily escape from it as if it were nothing.
But this was not something Reverie would allow to happen. She had to somehow make Sabra learn of the way her black “orb” worked – meaning using the particles’ signature imbued with her mana to predict the way out. Sure, it worked since the circle around her was pretty minute, but in battle, she would most likely have to spread it out further, making escape difficult. To do this, then, Reverie clutched the arm that had been hurt for but a second, then raised it, doing the same flicking motion as last time. However, the area would be larger – a good five feet in all directions. It would take much more mana, but Sabra had to learn, had to see.
This time, she would not attack her spirit. This time, rather, she directed some mana specifically into certain particles so they stood out more than the other, creating a straight path that led straight to the outside. If Sabra concentrated on this, she would be out of there in no time, and would get the rough concept of her magic. Two birds with one stone, really. But she best hurry; at this rate, her mana would not last long.
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 14, 2010 23:24:52 GMT -5
 --- make one dream come true ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE )[/center] As Sabra stood, grateful that sight had been restored, she eyed her Summoner. The dagger didn't seemed to have hurt her much, a relief to the Assassin. At least she had retained her skils, even in the dark and after centuries of not practicing. But even as Sabra was adjusting to her new vision, she was once again plunged into blindness. Stifling a sigh, the Assassin restrained herself from moving. Reverie obviously wanted her to do something more than just escape from her circle then. Closing her eyes (and ignoring the redundancy of such an action when she couldn't see anything with them open) Sabra tilted her head to the side and focused.
She could sense Reverie of course, a pulsing spot of energy a few yards in front of her. Focus. She had to focus. Her Summoner had to have a reason for this exercise. Reverie was a glowing form in Sabra's mind, and since she controlled this magic, there had to be traces of her somewhere. Reaching out, Sabra mentally pushed against the limits of Reverie's magic, tracing the edges of the spell. The feel expanded into a circle that extended five feet around the Assassin. Larger than last time. Whatever lesson Reverie wanted to teach, she wanted to drive it home, Sabra noted unhappily. The girl should have waited until she was better rested. Whatever she said, Sabra hadn't been chosen as the Assassin Heroic Spirit for nothing; she could recognize that her Summoner was exhausted. But that could be dealt with later.
The moments dragged on as Sabra considered her options, sifting through the influx of mana. Reverie's touch was heavier on certain parts of the darkness, blatantly forming a straight path. A trap? Maybe under other circumstances, with a different person wielding the magic, but Sabra highly doubted that her own Summoner would attempt to severely injure her, not this early in the war. So Sabra would trust her. Eyes still closed, she took a hesitant step forward along the path. Nothing appeared to happen. Another step, then. By the fourth step she was gaining more confidence, even relaxing a little. The path led straight to what appeared to be the boundary of the circle of blindness. Even Reverie's mana felt gentle, Sabra noted with a smile. The particles bent under her feet gracefully, a soft glowing path that lit the way. The final step.
Sabra squeezed her eyes open. Again, blessed sight. The forest, the green grass; even her Summoner's rather pale looking face. “You control light...?” Sabra stated. She had not had what one would call a proper education. She could do basic math and read, but not write. But Reverie could manipulate Sabra's vision, so that must be related to light, correct? She hoped so, at least. Informative as these little tests were, they weren't very enjoyable for the subject. Or perhaps Sabra just didn't enjoy being shown up. She did have her pride.
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 15, 2010 3:18:41 GMT -5
It was there. Every time she used her magic, she would always feel a sense of connectedness to it, no matter the spell she cast, as long as it was hers. She could pinpoint exactly where her mana had fused with the light particles in the black dome, and even more so where she had moulder a larger amount of it to form a straight path that led directly outside. Yes, the mana was there, slowly fusing with the particles and allowing them to retain their shape of a dome and the lack of visibility. For as long as she had her energy, it would be an attack that would not dissipate; an attack that would be a force to be reckoned with.
It was interesting to see how this dome worked from an outsiders’ point of view. First and foremost, whomever was trapped in it would be robbed of his eyesight, and would have to resort to his other senses to find a way out. If, however, one was not attuned to Reverie’s particular mana signature, it would be near impossible to escape, unless of course one blindly ran around and by some heavenly luck, escaped. But the chances of such a thing happening were low. And to Reverie and Reverie alone, the view from outside the dome was rather peculiar, because she could see perfectly what was occurring inside. It was almost as though looking through a one-way window; she could see them, but they could not see her. It was advantageous then, to know where the enemy currently was, and what moves they were planning. And contrarily, if Reverie was the one inside the dome, she herself would be the only one who could see, while her party could not. The person on the outside would also not be able to see her. In this case, the dome was used defensively rather than offensively, and was almost a perfect one at that. This was why she had to train Sabra to get used to different scenarios, as in a battle, mere seconds counted, and there was no time to dilly-dally. She had to know what this dome was capable of, how to get out, and all its insides and outs, and she had to know now.
Reverie smiled to herself in contentment as she felt Sabra’s own particular mana idly push hers inside the dome, revealing the fact that she had gotten the hang of it rather quickly. Within seconds, her spirit had exited, a look of slight awe on her face, asking a question that was a logical conclusion. The pink-haired girl nodded, excited and proud. “Glad you figured it out so quickly, Sabra. Yes, my domain is light – whether there be sun shining or in the complete dark, I will always have power. As long as those exist, I survive. I’m glad you figured out my dome trick – quite impressive, if I do say so myself. It acts as a one-way mirror if I’m not in it, and acts as a two-way mirror if I am, ensuring that the enemy cannot see me, but I can see them. It’s useful, but its downfall is that it requires quite a bit of mana for me, so I usually can’t hold it for too long.” She snapped her fingers, and a sound explosion erupted from behind Sabra, during which time the dome had completely disappeared.
“Now, then...”, Reverie spoke, softly. The next test was coming, a test of agility and a combination of Sabra’s knowledge of the dome. She would only be able to do this exercise once, before she would be completely at her limit. This was the final thing she needed to show Sabra. It did not matter if she fully mastered it; the basics were important at this point, and they could always practice later. For the final time, the young woman flicked her finger, this time inducing a fifteen-meter radius of a black dome, with Sabra dead center. She began to pant furiously – that might have been overdoing it. But this was to make certain that Sabra did not escape unintentionally without completing the exercise. As was usual, her mana was poured into the particles that formed the dome, only this time, she wouldn’t form a path straight out.
Closing her eyes, Reverie proceeded to the crucial part of the exercise. Pressing two fingers against her lips, she whispered, “ Vesica de Lux Lucis (Blades of Light).” She pointed said fingers outward, and ten, blade-shaped light beams fell from the heavens and into the dome. Again, these would not kill Sabra, but rather, damage her. The point of this exercise now, then, was to combine Sabra’s knowledge and familiarity of Reverie’s mana in the dome with incoming ones. If she could sense the swords piercing the dome, and use Reverie’s unique spiritual signature to pinpoint exactly when they pierced the dome and where, dodging them would be a piece of cake. But to ensure Sabra had at least a heads-up, she shouted, “Be careful now, Sabra. Use your knowledge... sense how the dome is shaped... sense how my mana has been spread evenly to form the dome... and with this, sense when you are about to be hit!”
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Post by Nehayat Vakili on Feb 16, 2010 21:25:04 GMT -5
 --- you may be acquainted with the night ,.[/color][/size][/font] ( BUT I HAVE SEEN THE DARKNESS IN THE DAY )[/center] “Glad you figured it out so quickly, Sabra. Yes, my domain is light – whether there be sun shining or in the complete dark, I will always have power. As long as those exist, I survive. I’m glad you figured out my dome trick – quite impressive, if I do say so myself. It acts as a one-way mirror if I’m not in it, and acts as a two-way mirror if I am, ensuring that the enemy cannot see me, but I can see them. It’s useful, but its downfall is that it requires quite a bit of mana for me, so I usually can’t hold it for too long.” What a unique power. Sabra had never had a Master with such talents, and even she had to admit that both Summoner and Spirit seemed almost....tailored for each other. The Assassin, the one who walks in darkness, and her Summoner, controlling the light. The coincidence was too perfect; was almost enough to make the Assassin believe in destiny and fate once more. But not quite. Coincidence could simply be coincidence.
But it seemed this wasn't the last of the tests, though Sabra was growing weary of these games. Once again, she was surrounded by the stifling dark. This time at least, Sabra thought thankfully, she could make out the barriers with ease, with her newfound sense for Reverie's mana. This “dome” as Reverie had called it, was larger than the first two, quite larger. Her Summoner was exhausting herself, Sabra thought with a small measure of pain. This shouldn't be necessary. She should learn faster; she was brilliant, she was the best. She had to be the best. She had to master this, so that they could move on, so that her Summoner could rely on her without fear. Even as Reverie's words reached her ears, the Assassin felt upwards with her power, testing the surface of the dome.
Ten points on the top stretched and weakened as an attack burst through. Memorizing the spots where the spears would land, Sabra sprang into action. Cartwheeling to the side, she dodged the first two spears of light and tumbling forward, threw herself out of the range of the rest. Once she was sure that no more attacks were coming, the Assassin stood up with as much dignity as she could muster. Brushing herself off, moved back to the center of the dome and folded her hands in front of her. After the last two attempts to leave the dome had been met with resistance and yet another “teaching”, Sabra was content to simply play her part and follow instructions. If Reverie attacked again, Sabra would once again avoid her Summoner's spears. If Reverie released the dome, Sabra was perfectly resigned to settling in for the night, as she suspected this last exertion had completely drained her Reverie of stamina.
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Post by Reverie Fuyuhana on Feb 22, 2010 20:38:22 GMT -5
This was what one could call progressive development. Interestingly enough, Reverie was quite amazed and shocked at Sabra’s physical prowess and quick adaptation skills. A feeling of pride welled deep inside, and despite the fatigue that she felt, she couldn’t help but let a smile show on her face. She didn’t want to get ahead of the game or anything, but with their teamwork, it almost seemed like they could conquer anything. They were in a war, after all (no matter how she didn’t want to be in one), and the best thing and only thing they could do was prepare, and to do that, they had to work as a team. This was the purpose of this whole exercise, after all: to be able to work hard and acknowledge each others’ flaws and find a way around those flaws, or at least find a way to compensate for the other’s flaw. Truly, Reverie felt blessed to have a spirit that didn’t listen to the master, or one that would rather rampage around and kill the first summoner they saw. Already, she felt a bond between them, one that would surely last for as long as this war needed them to be together. And she was going to hold on to that bond no matter what.
Looking on at the black dome before her, trickles of perspiration proceeded to trace down the young girl’s forehead, around her eyes, and down her cheeks. Breaths came out in regular intervals, and Reverie’s hold body bobbed up and down as her lungs struggled to find purchase on more oxygen that was absolutely vital for her. The sword of light in her hand had reappeared, but it was not shimmering dully, flickering back and forth from existence to non-existence, almost to a point that the blade was actually see-through. As the pink-haired girl breathed, the sword was slammed into the ground with barely a sound, and the young girl leaned her whole weight on it, hoping that it would support her stature. If the dome wasn’t ended soon, she’d completely use up all her energy and well, who knows. She’d never been pushed into a corner like that, and she wasn’t exactly willing to be pushed into one right now. But then again, if it was for the sake of training, for both Sabra and herself, she would have to endure. After all, it wasn’t like they trained like this every day, right?
Blue eyes dragged themselves upward and facing the black igloo that had formed in front of her. Reverie did nothing but watch as the blades settled themselves against and into the dome, breaking the barrier momentarily as they crashed through. Reverie could feel their sharp edges pierce the dome, and it felt strangely odd, like dipping her foot into the water, feeling the waves against it, or having someone gently press against her heart with a sharp object. It was almost as though she could feel the walls being seared through; but in a way, she did. It was, after all, infused with her energy, so she could feel it being pushed aside, as well as how she could feel Sabra inside the dome, moving and almost too easily dodging the blades before they came too close for comfort. Despite her heavy panting, Reverie looked on with a smile, proud of her spirit, and almost cracked out a laugh when Sabra resigned to staying inside the dome, in the center, as opposed to leaving it again. She could have, but she was too tired to waste another breath on laughter. She felt like tipping over any minute now.
Those were the basics of all her attacks. and although she could carve the light particles into more complicated attacks and different waves and effects, she just felt that she wasn’t up to snuff at the moment. Sighing, Reverie lifted a shaky hand up, snapping her fingers and watching the dome dissolve away into nothing. She felt that she had covered all the basics of her attacks. There was still one more she hadn’t showed the spirit, her binding light pillars, but it wasn’t like she’d ever have to be bound, so there would be no point in practicing that, right? Right. Shaking her head slightly, Reverie felt proud of today’s work. She had successfully summoned her spirit with no flaws, producing one that seemed just perfect for her in terms of both personality and ability, and she’d had some sparring time with said spirit. As well, she now had a companion for life – or at least, until the war was over. It would be a depressing end when they would part, but she didn’t want to think about it right now.
With the few sparks of energy left in her, Reverie spoke, “Good job, Sabra. Impressive work; you’re truly amazing. I just hope we’ll be able to survi-” Before she could finish her sentence, the blade that she had leaned on for support finally flickered out completely, signalling her exhaustion. She fell to the ground with a soft thud, eyes closed and completely blacked out.
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