Tainted Magic

[Nyla]

Left. Right. Left. Right. Nyla's mind settled into the steady rhythm of her trudging. It had been days since she'd left the closest village to these legendary ruins and her feet were barking in agony. She wasn't even sure why she felt so determined to visit The Fell..there would be no food, likely no people (at least none of the respectable variety), not to mention the curse. But there it was none the less—that steady thrum in her veins, that incessant pull like a hook tugging from her core. She needed to see it for herself.

Nyla remembered the rumors of tainted magic, the scar left upon the land after power-hungry mages unleashed wild forces they couldn't hope to control. If the stories were true, anyone with magical blood would become tainted as well. Nyla's lips curved into a smile. If her father only knew where she was..he'd send riders stampeding after her to keep her from entering The Fell's walls.

As much as she wished otherwise, Nyla was cursed with a seething and restless magic. Sadness brought rain. Joy or rage or fear summoned lightning. Any emotional outburst could result in a devastating eruption of power that incinerated everything around her and left her lying unconscious on the ground.The thought made Nyla pause. Although she was fairly certain, albeit she wasn't sure why she was certain, she wouldn't be cursed, the thought of having her already chaotic magic turned even more wild was not a prospect to take lightly.

Nyla looked up then, realizing where she had stopped. The ruins lay only a few short steps ahead. It was a vast and overwhelming sight. Buildings which had once been tall and proud lay scattered across the ground, no more than piles of rubble kicked over by an angry, angry god. Although the dead had long since rotted away, she felt the weight of the air hanging on her thin frame, heavy in her lungs. She gave the land a quick sweep. No one seemed to be here. She let the silence hang for a moment longer before sitting gently on the ground, legs crossed. She pulled out her leather-bound journal, dipped her quill into a small bottle of ink, and began to write.

[Ethereal-Star]

On the other side of the ruins, a large creature could be seen sifting through a pile of rubble, white crystalline scales gleaming in the sun's rays which pierced through the cloud cover above. Finally finding something of interest, the crystal dragon let out a contented hum and picked up a glittering necklace of gold that shone brightly in her just as sparkly sharp talons. Tucking it away into a large burlap sack, Zy'raxas continued her search for other nice trinkets and items of value or magical interest.

Half an hour passed, the ancient dragon having found at least a couple more items of note. Deciding to look elsewhere in the neglected ruins, she spread her large crystalline wings and prepared to take off to another part of the Fell, the sack clutched in her talons. She didn't get too far however, before seeing a lone humanoid figure sitting cross-legged on the ground, writing something in a journal, quill clutched in her fingers with bottle of ink laying beside her. Circling around the area a few times, giving the person plenty of time to look up and see her, Zy'raxas after her fifth sweep of the particular section she was in, took that moment to land, dust and dirt being stirred up in her landing. The dragon wasn't too far away from the elf-human woman, but not too close to be considered invading personal space or accidentally frightening the other traveler either. But the woman would no doubt see her, as a large creature such as Zy'raxas was a bit difficult to miss as it were.

Looking around, tapping her claws upon debris-covered ground, the crystal dragon brought her draconic gaze forward again to take note of what the woman was doing at this time. "A place of true historical riches and wonders, is it not?" the dragon asked the half-elven woman, a curious look in her reptilian yellow eyes.

[Arclightning]

The dragon was talking to someone. But she was not important, only the dragon was. Rathen had tracked the crystal beast all the way into this. These old ruins of lost hope and dreams. Maybe she could give him back his name. Rethikriis was powerful but even he died years ago. Rathen had thought that was the end, until he found the gleaming gem Zy'raxas poking around in some ruins where he was reading the stars. When he saw her a glimmer of hope had returned.

Rathen had followed her all the way here. To an old city of magic. Fitting, as he wanted to regain his lost, no, locked power. He wanted to make flames. Not just see them dance. Now was his chance.

He stood and jumped off the tower he was watching the dragon and the girl from. He fell three stories before landing in a shower of sparks with a resonding BOOM! Like a clap of thunder. Rathen walked slowly, placing each foot carefully and deliberately to make just enough noise to alert them to his presence and not startle them. But then again his landing probably alerted them to his presence anyway.

[Nyla]

Nyla swiftly tucked her journal away as the Dragon approached. The creature's scales were marvelous. If there wasn't the matter of how dangerous, and very deadly, dragons could be she would have walked right up and touched her crystal hide. But instead she held her ground and gave the land another sweep at the treasures Zy'raxas spoke of. "Truly..." Nyla drew a breath to ask the beast a question, but caught from the corner of her eye a figure falling. Just as she turned her head to get a better look she heard the thunderous boom of his landing. The shower of sparks was enough for her to be on in her feet in a heartbeat, blades drawn.

She'd barely had time to register if the dragon was friend or foe, now there was a second party to deal with. One look at the sparks and she knew this man had magic, too. The question was, how powerful was he, and what exactly did he want?

[Ethereal-Star]

Observing the woman close her book and get up, Zy'raxas nodded in assent at her answer. Just then, there was a loud thundering boom which shook the ground like some kind of magical explosion had gone off. Already the mighty dragon had turned around, preparing herself for a possible fight. The creature of shadow that met her draconic sight was indeed fascinating to behold, the magic cloak it wore even more spectacular. She could immediately tell the garment was one-of-a-kind, possessing immense power. The nature of that power though she couldn't tell just yet, as closer inspection would be needed here. But that would have to wait, as the being that wore it was far more important. Zy'raxas could not decipher what manner of being it was, but it appeared to take on a male form. It was also somewhat difficult to get a read on his intentions, but the crystal dragon remained alert nonetheless for whatever would happen.

Tapping her claws lightly on the ground, keeping both persons within her sight, Zy'raxas began to speak to the strange newcomer. "And who might you be?" she intoned in a loud, deep voice befitting of her kind, one that was both bestial as well as feminine.

Looking closer, the red flaming eyes of the creature further pointed out his inhuman nature, yet the huge wyrm could not detect any sort of hostility. Yet. Still, Zy'raxas was no fool. She would be more than prepared if this mysterious person tried anything stupid.

[Arclightning]

The question that the dragon asked was a strange one. Why not 'what are you?' Or 'what do you want?' She saw into the heart of things. Good. That means she can see into his heart and find his old name, or if Rethikriis had destroyed all traces of his old self then maybe she could give him a new name. One of light, and magic. And fire. If he had a face it would have been smiling.
"I am a simple creature of shadow looking for light. I am a spark waiting to bloom into flame. I am a shell, waiting to be filled with a name." Rethikriis liked to be greeted in rhyme, so why not this dragon too? "I seek a dragon to find something that has been taken from me. You are a finder." Rathen took a step forward. "So find my name."

[Ethereal-Star]

Listening to the words spoken, and what delightful words they were too, Zy'raxas felt she should humor this creature of shadow. She smiled and spoke her own rhyme.

"Ancient draconic magic is what you seek then, o' creature of shadow that beseech me. A Finder I may be, for it is told in many tales of prophecy, that dragonkind hath this power you speak of, throughout the many ages that have passed thereof. Tell me, o' Seeker of Light, looking to this one's great Sight, waiting for a Name to call your own. What dost thou offer in return for this boon of Salvation, to shed a past long since buried in Subjugation?"

Tapping her talons expectantly on the ground, Zy'raxas awaited a favorable answer.

[Arclightning]

Ha! A poet dragon! This Zy'raxas has more of a silver tongue then three of Rathen put together. Rathen could spout a rhyme or two, but he had only greeted Rethikriis in rhyme, but, well, he did need some practice.
"O crystal of the ruins, brightest of all noble beasts, I offer you a thing of light fallen down to dark. But unto you, brightest flame, with a wave and a spark, you may wear the cloak of a monarch." Rathen was proud of that one, not his best, but good after eighty years of no practice.

[Ethereal-Star]

A favorable offer indeed, thought Zy'raxas. This being must really desire a new Name if he was willing to part with such an item. From here, she could discern even more of its power and what great power it held! The gate to the very cosmos itself was contained within the cloak, as well as the darkness which no doubt had dulled its once shining brilliance.

"Ah, a grand gift of cosmic light is what thou give, for I Zy'raxas, Ancient Dragon of Crystal Might take thy offer with gladness. Now I shall bestow upon thee a Name so that you may again be free to live, but first you need only hand over the magic promised in order to partake of this boon so magnanimous."

And Zy'raxas was for certain a dragon of her word, for she would not go back on such as doing so was rather distasteful and lacking character. She waited patiently for what the shadowy man would say to this.

[Arclightning]

Yes! Oh by my forgotten power I will have my fire back! Thought Rathen while formulating his response. Instead he simply pulled of the cloak.
"AH!" He shouted, blined by the light that the cloak gave off. This is the light of the cosmos put into one object. A holy thing, no doubt. But when he dropped the shining, silvery object seemingly made of liquid silver, he looked at his hands. They were still surrounded by shadow. The darkness of his sin still flowed around him. No matter. He could burn it away with the flames that were his by birthright. He picked up the cloak, and it immediately turned black again. He was startled but still handed it to Zy'raxas.
As soon as it left his hand the blackness dripped off to the ground where it flowed, and pooled around Rathen. "There. It is yours. Name me." He stepped back, almost shaking with anticipation, when he noticed an elf sitting behind the dragon. She was still here? He would need to remove her. Only he and his savior may know his name. After, later.

[Ethereal-Star]

The cloak was indeed something glorious, now that Zy'raxas could see its natural, untainted form. She wondered exactly what the mysterious man had done to have such blackness curl around him like a possessive cowl. But, she supposed it did not matter. However, she saw the way he looked back at the elf woman. The dragon would not allow him to hurt the half-elf, unless there was good reason to. She would have to watch him carefully.

Taking the magnificent garment in her claws, she folded it up and put it in her burlap sack, before looking back at the expectant humanoid being. "A Name you shall receive, for Harold you once be, and Harold you are once more. Now go forth into the world with thy freedom, and seek to redeem thee from the darkness which hast been your plague, this I do implore." Ending that last part on a subtle hint to leave the elven female alone.

[Nyla]

Nyla could sense the hostility from the shadow creature. He did not want her there, of that she was sure, but there was no where else for her to go. And even if there was, she wasn't sure she wanted to miss this. Something magical was happening, something you only heard about in stories. Would it be foolish to stay and see how it ended?

Blades still in hand, Nyla resigned herself to a more relaxed stance. She wasn't sure they would be much help against his shadowy form, but should he decide to unleash his building anger at her, she needed something to help fend him off.

She now turned her attention to the dragon. She hadn't missed her subtle attempt at protection and gave her a nod in gratitude, so subtle Zy'raxas might have missed it. Nyla slowly shifted her gaze to the newly named Harold. She wasn't sure entering the conversation was wise. Should she come up with a rhyme? It was probably better to remain silent with the hope of slipping away unnoticed, but she felt she could no longer stand there and say nothing. "Congratulations stranger. With your name restored, may your days be your own." She hoped the creature would notice her choice to not repeat his name. He was nothing more than a stranger to her and so would he remain if he would allow it.

[Arclightning]

Oh. This is wrong. Rathen-no, Harold felt like he had been punched in his heart and mind. His very core burned, and the walls of steel erected by the name Rathen came tumbling down in a river of flame. He would have screamed but instead he choked on the shadow rushing into his body. He felt his name change with the flood of shadow. No, shadow is the wrong word. It was not the shadow of something. it was the absence of light. Of firelight, moonlight, and starlight. He felt them wrap around his name and twist it into something other than him. He struggled to hold on. He fought the tide and tried to hold on to the thin wisps of identity he had left.

He lost.

But in his struggle he learned something that had eluded him for so long. The name of the cloak.

And it had changed his. His name burned through him. And he found at the center of his being, burned into his soul, was him. Rage.

[Ethereal-Star]

The crystal dragon watched the transformation come forth over the now newly renamed Harold, observing each and every detail with her yellow, reptilian eyes of crystalline sparkle. After the last of them ended, the final change complete and his struggles having reached a resolution, Zy'raxas could plainly see and feel the results of the magic which had just taken place.

"How do you feel?" the great beast asked him, continuing to tap her claws on the ground.

[Arclightning]

His name. Why did it change? His whole body shook with anger and loss. But in his heart he knew the answer. Just as the anger of a gentle man is a force to be reckoned with, so is the rage of a creature of pure intention used for a sinister purpose. That is why he is rage. The cloak, Peace had branded him. But he had taken a toll on it-no, her as well. He had taken her name. He could feel it. But, alongside it, deep in his chest was a flame rekindled. Not a flame of magic, but a fire burning high and hot. It felt like the heat of anger, like when a man strikes you and your insides flare up. That is what the fires of rage did to Rage.

He turned to Zyraxas.
"I am complete. My fire smolders no more." He snapped his fingers and crimson flames danced along his hand. He made a fist and quenched the flames. "But my name is not Harold. I am rage. More specifically the rage of Peace." He pointed to the cloak. "But I thank you. I have my fire, and that is all I need." He smiled. But the shadow still covered his face. No matter. It doesnt matter. He had his fire.

Wait. He just told them his new name. Why does the elf need to know his name? He walked over to her. "Who are you?" Her name would help settle the debt. But so would her blood.

[Nyla]

Nyla set her jaw as the fire creature approached and gazed into flickering red eyes, a face of shadow. She gripped her blades tight and swallowed hard. The unnatural fire of Harold's eyes made her want to look away, but she refused. There was no need to be afraid...yet.

The creature had asked for her name. She opened her mouth to respond, then shut it again. Suddenly that information seemed strangely valuable. What would he do with her name? Curse it? Claim it? She didn't know. "I am no one," she said at last. "A humble traveler wishing only to set sights on these legendary ruins."

At mention of the ruins she felt a spark flicker through her blood. Now would not be a good time for a magical outburst. She kept her features even, giving away nothing, and awaited Harold's response.

[Arclightning]

The arrogance! You would lie to a dragon trained fire mage?! Rages body shook with anger and shock.
"Tell me your name you insolent worm! You know mine and that is a debt only two things can settle. Your name or your blood. Either one is enough." Maybe that would be enough to scare her but just in case he sent sparks billowing out behind him. Rage glanced at the dragon. Would she interfere? She was a namer, and as such knew the severity of this debt.

[Nyla]

Oh dear..the creature was very angry now. She knew she should just tell the mage her name, but something stopped her. Why couldn't she just say it? Another spark ran down her spine. Enough she thought to herself angrily, willing the magic to be silent.

"How much blood?"

The words were out before she could stop them. She was basically asking to die, Nyla thought to herself in disbelief. She took a moment to peer over at the dragon. She had seemed friendly enough..perhaps she would interfere on Nyla's behalf. She paused and smiled, the corners of her mouth curling up into a subtle grin. Help was as unlikely as the dragon bowing down and letting Nyla fly away on her back. No, she was dealing with wild things here. She would have to save herself.

Nyla swallowed and tried again. "I mean no disrespect great mage. Tell me how I may pay this debt in blood. If the price is too high, then you shall have my name."

[Arclightning]

Ah what a naive little girl.
"How much would you pay for the key to your soul?"  Rage smiled. An intentionally strange answer. She won't know that everyone must pay with their lifeblood. He would burn every drop of it out of her. Unless the dragon interfered.

[Nyla]

Nyla turned away then, breathing slowly. After a moment she looked back and spoke. "I would hope I'd never have to pay for such a thing. I suppose as promised you can have my name. Although, to be fair, I should warn you I have many. Which one shall you have?"

It was true, during her travels she had picked up many names. Perhaps this would be what the mage desired. And if not, perhaps it would be OK just this once to let her lightning fly..