#athoriachallenges

[calliopearaielsiirist]

Cheap Tricks || Self || SWP + Challenge

"Hurry up Calliope!" Tadiel yelled as she ran ahead. The girl was so excited to go to Brailston today for some reason. Just as she thought that, Calliope heard the annoying hum of human music and the beating of the footsteps of a large crowd. Of course there had to be some stupid festival on today. Knowing Tadiel and her weakness for the creatures she probably chose to go to Brailston that day because of the festival. Calliope had remembered hearing something about the King and the Princess but she hadn't bothered listening to the details.

Making the crowd spread as they approached, Calliope didn't wanted to be near the large mass of humans let alone bumping shoulders with them. Tadiel, however, didn't mind. The young elf's eyes darted around the scene, taking in all the wonder that she saw. Calliope followed her blindly, not really caring for any of it.

Eventually Tadiel decided what she wanted to do first and bee-lined for a brightly coloured tent. With blue and yellow flaps of material acting as a covering for the doorway, Calliope gently moved them to the side as she entered after Tadiel. The sign that hung on top of the doorway outside had said magician, though Calliope highly doubted that there would be any real magic inside the tent.

A small crowd had now gathered inside the tent waiting for the magician to appear. A puff of smoke appeared seemingly out of no where and suddenly the magician had appeared. Calliope saw the man discreetly throw in the powder used to create the smoke, but apparently no one else did. Dressed from head to toe in black, the man proceeded to complete a series of sleight of hand tricks before announcing it was time for his big finale.

"Now, watch closely as I enchant this sword," He moved the sword from left to right, showing it off to the entire crowd. "To be on fire." Calliope just rolled her eyes. The only sword in the entire tent that was actually enchanted to do such was the one sheathed on her hip. However, neither the crowd nor Tadiel knew that.

All eyes on the man in black, he went forward with his trick and executed it perfectly, making the entire crowd believe was magically gifted when really he knew how to dip a sword in oil and misdirect his audience's attention. "Fake." Calliope said just as the crowd was about to clap. She could have just stayed silent, but if she was going to make this at least slightly enjoyable for herself, she was going to have to mix it up a bit.

"I beg your pardon?" the man said. Gasps from the crowd followed, but Calliope just strolled confidently forward and reiterated what she said before.

"Fake. Your trick at the end - well actually all of them, but I don't have time to deal with every false thing you showed these people - was fake. It was staged magic, sleight of hand, not real wizardry. And here's why." Moving up to the front, Calliope proceed to demonstrate the trick again, this time showing them how he did and how he made them believe it was real. "As I said before, the man standing up at the front here and all of his tricks, are fake."

"And I suppose you have real magic?" a face from the crowd posed. Calliope looked over at the con magician before responding. The look on his face was priceless, a mix of shock at how she'd figured out just by watching once and horror that he'd been called out on his fraud.

"Yes, I do." Calliope said, unsheathing Eldur. "This," She waved the blade back and forth in front of the crowd. "Is what a real enchanted sword looks like." Swinging it around a few times before she made her move, Calliope took three steps towards one of the wooden crates he'd used in his show, and on the third step cut the box exactly in half. Moving aside so the crowd could see what she'd done, Calliope returned the blade to its spot on her hip and took a half of the box in each hand, showing the burned pieces of wood to the small group of people who were now in shock.

A few of them fled from the tent, but most of the audience clapped. Throwing the box at the man in black's feet, Calliope left the tent with an upset Tadiel following at her heels. "Why did you have to do that? Why did you have to ruin the show?" She could tell that Tadiel was trying not to sound whiny but it came off as such anyways.

"That wasn't real magic and even if it had been, you could do better tricks than that in your sleep." I could probably do better tricks than that when I'm dead, she added to herself. Why Tadiel had to care for human things like this she didn't know, Calliope just hoped that the girl would outgrow the like for humans in time.

This post was inspired by this one.

[beauxhadley-blog]

Compass to my Dreams || The Enchanter || Challenge 007

Earlier in the day, Beau had been walking through Chile on his way home from buying some food. He had seen children sitting under a window of a small shop; they were discussing magic and whether or not it was real. Their little giggles felt like sharp pokes to Beau’s stomach. Their naivety was pure and they didn’t know the destruction magic would cause. One little girl said if she could perform magic, she would always make sure her hair stayed braided they way she wanted. Beau shook his head sadly; he knew that was one of the last things witches cared about. 

The conversation haunted Beau throughout the rest of the day. He wondered how many children had the same thought, what would I do if I had magic, and thought of an innocent spell that only enriched their lives, whether superficially or not. He started to imagine what Ronan might wish for, though it hurt his heart too much to continue. 

In Beau’s profession, having weapons infused with magic could make the Bloodhawks even deadlier. Just thinking about what damage his own weapons could do with magic mixed in. He could chose his favorite knife; make it invincible and able to kill all supernaturals with one touch. Or, he could choose to create a new weapon. Like Brocks idea, perhaps a new weapon that would be able to kill a demon without killing a human. Weapons and magic had a unlimited possibilities  for wreaking havoc on the abominations that littered around Athoria. 

Beau didn’t want a magical weapon though. The whole thought of taking magic and putting it into his daily life came from a child's musings;  how could he poison that innocence with something such as violence. 

If anything, Beau would want a compass that could point him in the direction of the manor he’d been dreaming about recently. He scarcely remembered his dreams unless they were night terrors. These dreams felt different though. They made him wake up with an itchy feeling all over his body, like he needed to be moving. The only way he could calm himself down after one of these dreams was to twirl around his new coin with his fingers. The repetitive motion eventually would allow Beau to fall back asleep. 

The compass would still have a sense of child-like wonder to it, Beau decided. A compass always pointing to a beautiful manor, it sounded like something out a child’s story book. 

Or a dream. 

[edlenor-blog]

Finding Old Treasures || SWP + Challenge

Dressed in unusual clothes for him, but garbs that would blend in with the rest of the crowd today, Edlenor preceded to make his way towards where he heard the magicians would be selling their acquired items. Edlenor had no real care that the King or Princess had come home, he didn't really care for either of them. Unlike other supernaturals, many of which hated the King, Edlenor just didn't give a shit. He hadn't done anything to offend Edlenor personally, and it's not like Edlenor had to pay taxes.

The magicians' wares were the only thing he was really interested in here. The large crowd, loud noises, and bright colours, he liked none of them. These kinds of festivities were the things he tried to avoid on a daily basis. Edlenor didn't mind the clothes he was wearing comfort-wise, but style-wise they certainly didn't suit him. He longer tunic and pants that were too tight. Personally, Edlenor would just make the tunic shorter and loosen up the pants a lot, and then he wouldn't mind. The length of the tunic reminded him too much of the longer garbs the elves would wear. That's why Edlenor usually liked to stick strictly with pants and shirts that stopped at the hips. But he wanted to fit in, and the only clothes he owned here ones that would make him stand out for sure. So he bought what the shopkeeper yesterday had suggested and blended in fairly well.

Finally making it through the large and dense crowd that had formed around the magicians, Edlenor made it to the front and gazed upon the table. Some of the items were knock offs, but some of them had real magic within them. After scanning all they had to offer, Edlenor finally found something he wanted. Two things actually, and the only reason he wanted them is because he hadn't seen them in a billion years. The only reason they had survived this long is because they were of elvish make, and he wanted them back.

The first item was a circlet. Named Caecus for its powers, it made the wearer invisible. Edlenor had used it many times when he was a slave of A'nniel. He'd also received innumerable beatings for doing so, eventually enough that A'nniel sold it so he couldn't get his hands on it anymore. Hexed with an extremely powerful enchantment, Caecus was the only thing that could stop the other elves of the house, A'nniel included, from finding him. Edlenor had used Caecus in one of his escape plans, though like the rest it was unsuccessful.

The second item was the blade Sicarius. With beautiful engravings, the sword had perfect balance and was enchanted to slice through the air faster than any other. It was one of the few weapons he had been sent off with. Possibly the only mercy he was shown by the female elves, he was allowed to pick which weapons he took with him to face the Goddess. Knowing it was one of A'nniel's favourites, Edlenor chose Sicarius to take with him.

Seeing them again, he knew he had to have them. Pushing his way to through the crowd again to get to the other side of the table, just as Edlenor reached them a small human child, probably around the age of ten or twelve, took both of them in his grimy boney hands. "I saw you eyeing these. If you want them you'll have to take them from me."

"Fine." Edlenor's voice was harsh. The child attempted to dart off, but with the single swipe of his arm, Edlenor grabbed the back of the kid's shirt and pulled him back to the spot where he was standing before. Turning the child around, Edlenor took hold of both items and kneed the street rat in the stomach, forcing him to let go. The kid now dealt with, Edlenor turned back to the vendor.

Removing the ratty brown material that he used as a coin purse from his belt, Edlenor threw the entire thing on the table. Inside was more than enough gold to pay for both items, though to him it they were priceless. In his opinion no amount of gold could justify the two items he now had in his possession. But regardless, Athoria, just like everywhere else in this world he was living in, valued gold far too highly.

Slipping through the crowd once more, once he was out of the thick of it, Edlenor stored the sword in his belt and placed the circlet on his shag of hair. He got as far away as he could and went into the Hallowed Oaks. There he spent the rest of the day marvelling at what he had bought, playing around with his newly found old treasures. Edlenor knew he would have to return to the inn he was storing his other belongings at eventually, but for now he just stayed in the woods, swinging his sword at creatures that weren't there and keeping the circlet safe on his head, promising himself that he would never lose it again.

[levistus-catavian]

Strax, the ring of the Blue Tyrant. SWP&Challenge || Levistus Self

The Ice Demon paced forward quickly, navigating his way through the hoards of humans celebrating the kings return in the fields of Brailston. Normally he would be more polite, more accommodating of some of the merchants trying to get his attention or happily let someone pass in front of him before moving on. This was not the case at this moment.

The King's return had brought many sights and sounds to the area. Food and entertainment were rife and people were basking in the suns setting light with high spirits with full bellies. Levistus care for none of it in this moment. His disregard for it was very uncharacteristic of the usually charming ice demon, but he had no time for appearances. For many other things had come to Athoria for the celebration and it had been the perfect cover for his contact to finally deliver his precious cargo. Something Levistus thought he would never lay his eyes upon again, something he had coveted for years.

When he had taken over Stygia, the layer of hell that he ruled over, he had overthrown the Blue Tyrant Geryon. A demon of immense strength and power, Geryon had not been an easy foe to defeat. It had taken Levistus years of plotting and scheming to get into a position with enough support to attack and destroy the monster. However Geryon had denied Levistus his sweetest treasure. Strax, the ring of Dark Ice. Its power gave the ice demon who wielded it immense power, allowing their ice powers to take on the form of dark ice. Much like Levistus' own Uttercold technique the Dark Ice was deadly and devastating. Its power gives extra pain to the ice they produce and makes the Ice itself all but unmeltable save for the hottest of fire.

Levistus knew it would make is Uttercold one of the deadliest weapons ever know, not to mention the Shards of Tantlin would gain a nasty sting when working in conjunction with the ring. When Geryon knew he was beat he had used he last of his power to send the ring out of Stygia and hell altogether and into the mortal plane. He died smirking at Levistus, happy with his little victory. But it had been found.

Levistus had always been building a network of agents who could find almost anything for the right price. This had been a network that was originally meant to find the ring, a task that had taken such a long time it had been going on since Levistus first arrived on the surface of the world. The King in White finally found the tent on the edge of the celebrations where his contact was waiting for him. With shaking hands he pushed open the flap and entered the tent.

Upon entering the five agents inside bowed deeply to him. These men were great agents to Levistus. Some of his most trusted. Very rarely did they ever have the need to meet any one of them in person, never mind five of them at once. But this was too important, this ring needed the expertise and protection of this group. The man at the centre held an ordinary looking box, but Levistus could feel that the item inside it was calling out to him, no ordinary trinket lay in this box.

Wordlessly he took the box from the agent and opened it slowly. Strax lay within. He almost couldn't believe it, the ring he had only seen on Geryon's fat finger was finally his, and with it he would gain even more of the power of ice that was truly his right to have.

He began to laugh, and soon it was a cackle that would ring out into the area around the tent. The men left the tent, their work done, their master happy. The laughter from the tent however continued for many minutes as the Ice Demon finally put on Strax and felt the power flowing through him. No one would notice the laughter in the crowd of revellers all around the tent and fields. It would mix in with all the other joyous laughter and noises from the celebration that were taking place. Little would anyone know that this laughter was no normal noise, this laughter was unnerving if it was listened properly. For this was the laughter of an Ice Demon who was truly and undeniably exstatic.

This laughter was terrifying.

[bellevenna]

Athoria Challenge Six || Faier Folk Well Mette

Brother

J hafe been exploring thisese moste new and virginele land whiche cannotte haffe been born offe Our Father yette J know nottete fallen fro whence else jt migte have coome. It ise an jslande, similar tu England, a plase so close tu manie of our hearts, yette it ise unliche her jn almost effry way. Thisese ise a plase still wilde, untuuchede by Man, untamed.

J walk through herre woods and J hear the songges of the trees unbrokon and unchang'd. The beasts seem tu haven an intelligens J thoughte lost withe Eden. And therre ise something else stille ... A unseen fors jn the aier, J feel jt gathering and hear jt whisepering. J feel its eyes on me yeven as J pause tu write thesse few wordes.

There! The faintest scurrying ofe feet on forestes floor, nottete beaste and nottete man and notte angle nor dœmon eider. My kyryosity has made goode sence fongen tu the flyte. J will look deeper intu the woods ...

Hertes lufe

Sofiel

------------------------------------

Azrael

Thate there remains morre on earth than J dared imaginne leavves my head reeling and my heart racing. J knew of thoes cretures offe the nighte, the beasts men fear without knowing whie, knowing only thate there ise a memory offe fear and long thime passed carried jn blood and musculle. J have seen the shape-shifters and vampyres, heard the wail of thoes poore lost souls condemned tu an efterlife notte in heavens sweet embrace or the creuelest fires of hell or yeven in the promise of purgatury. Yes, J have seen thesse and morre besides, but jt proved poor preparation for whatte J encountered laste nighte.

You moust notte think me a naive girl, offerely dreamy and romantic, giwed tu flightes of fantasy.

As J passed through the woods jt came tu me thate J wes byinge watched bie eyes unseen. J could feel the weight of thise gaze and jt seemed the longuer J tarried the morre eyes werre uppone me. J am uice tu the kyryous glances of beast; deer and rabbit and vox and wolffe all thesse J count friend, but jt wes notte their eyes J velt.

J would likken it tu whatte it feels tu be looked uppone by Man, but thate ise notte entirely true. There wes an age tu be velt jn thate stare thate man does notte possess, youthe thate he ise. Jt wes moore akin tu byinge jn the presaunce of angle or dæmon but thate is notte entirely true, eider. Jn thise unseen fors J velt the weight of millenia - teime enough tu maike yeven you feel as a babbe ine the cradle.

Witthe thise invisibils fors werre globes offe lighte whiche flew about notte unlike birds in the sky. They came jn alle colors and J could notte distinguiesh the signifigance offe one color ouver anotteher; perhaps there wes none and the colors werre merely whatte wes favored. J say favored vor J deviened a wild intelligens jn thesse globes - their movements werre notte random and they seemed tu my eye tu be awar of their surrendyngs and moved soe as tu avoid branches and trunks and each other. A high-pitched noiese accompanied them and efter somme teime J determined thise tu be a language - speech ine the form of a sortte of queining keening.

Thesse lightes danced about, weaving within and without the trees, flying uppe high untille J thought they might diseappear only tu once again descend and move jn circles all the whielle making thate noisome whistilleing sound. One ore twoe came close enough - J think maybe they werre as kyryous about me ase J wes about them - and jt wes only efter some teime of observing their behavior thate the wourde struck me

Faeries

Thoes creatures, spirittes, offe wood and glenn, a reminder of old daies and older godes. Ahhh! They werre beautiful - tu my mind they recalled the stars offe our home giwed earthly life and movement. Would J knew their green tungue and could have communicated freely with them! Whatte secretes they might have sharred, whatte knowledges, whatte common grounonds might we have found and tread?

You might think thate there lies the end of thise tale, but no! Recall, jf you will, the footsteps thate ferst drew my attention ... For beyond the lightes of the faeries (and oh! how herde jt wes tu tear my gaze away from them) there stuod twoe or three figours. They werre tall as mæn, formed in their emage, yet a closer look revealed them tu be so perfectly formed as tu be in-human, arte came tu life. Jn their eyes J could see the mysteries of the ayges, swirling cosmos, the birth and death of galaxies unknown. Ears coming tu perfect points forther distanced them fromme their mortalle cousins yet drew them closer tu the lightes still dancing --

Ylfes, a racu J had thoughte only tu be found in tales tuld tu children by olde women. 

They spake notte tu me and J said nothing tu them. Wea regarded each other for whatte velt tu be ages and neiver before have J velt tu be a youtheful intruder, a child trespassing on a neighbors propertie. They made me feel as one imperfect, ugly, and J wondere if thise ise the samme feeling we induce in the mortalles we encounter. As J think back on thise encounter J cannotte say with certainty whethire thoes Forest Folke J mette werre man or woman, so unworldly and beautiful werre they thate they seemed tu transcend such classification …

[dimaeira]

ATHORIA CHALLENGE // THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT // SOUNDS OF WHITE

Even by Athorian standards, Eira is a bit of an oddity. Sticking true to her name ('snow' in Finnish), she is a shade of brilliant; she makes the newest snow look grey. She is the kind of white that, if you stare too long, sears into your retinas and renders you blind. Her appearance is something she has never seen in another, not once in her twenty-three years. With all the hushed words around her, it seems no one else has either.

Insecurities have always plagued her, although she mostly accepts them these days. At times, though, she'll spit through perfect teeth; complain that she's too abnormal for this world. It can be quite the downer and Eira believes that her appearance 'complicates' her, making daily activities and relationships harder to accomplish.

Reaching a point of acceptance wasn't easy. She's come to the conclusion that her ice-demon lineage has contributed to her appearance, and that days are diaphanous. When she was young, though, she wanted nothing more to be normal. What does that word even mean? For Eira, that was splashes of something. She would have even stolen from Iris Beckett, just to have it. Yet, it never came - she never expected it to.

And it is this absense that makes her, for without it she wouldn't be here today. If she was born with the slightest colour in her cheeks, Eira Dima wouldn't even exist. She'd have been a rose of a different name and be left without reason; Athoria would have just been a far off land. Surrounded by family and friends, she wouldn't have been so shy. She'd probably even have her own family by now. In Eira's place would be another girl, one that was never so fractured.