Syrielle strolls down the stairs, holding a stack of parchments in her her hands, she walks over and gives Gattius a big hug, "Hey, Dork! Feeling any better?"
Gattius crushes up two small white pills, and pours them into a glass of water-- wait, that's water, right? He downs it like a shot, too quick to tell. But if his face is any indication... that's some strong water!
Syrielle 's ears lower, "I take it not good?"
[Gattius]: --Hm? Oh, uh... getting there.
Gattius shrugs, as he turns. He looks very tired...
Syrielle doesn't buy it. She looks quite worried, actually, "You really should be seeing a mentalist at this point. This is going to start affecting you on the field."
Gattius huffs. "I'll be -fine-." he retorts, shortly. "I have it under control. Between medicine and naps here and there, it's nothing to worry about.”
Syrielle waves the parchment in front of his face, chuckling, "You're so tired, you forgot to tell me about this, you Dork!"
[Gattius]: About wha--
[Syrielle]: Joke's on the old man! You get his money no matter how much he didn't want it to happen. Ha!
Syrielle 's ears perk back up, "This is perfect! It's exactly what we need right now! Between this and the money mom and dad left me, this will put the Starfrost name up to nobility status!"
Gattius quickly snatches up the parchments, with a deep frown! "--Hmph! Not a chance!" he snaps, crumpling the parchments in his hand behind his back. "I didn't tell you because we're not taking a single copper from that son of a bitch!"
[Syrielle]: WHAT!?
[Gattius]: What, you -want- his dirty money? Light only knows what he did to get it!
Syrielle frowns, reaching out the grab the parchments back, "Of course I want the money! Do you know how much GOOD we could do with it?! You just want to let it sit and do nothing?! Are you serious?!"
Gattius scoffs! "Am -I- serious? Are -YOU- serious?! His fortune was made on lies and manipulation! You want to profit from that, like some greedy Venture Company goblin?" he frowns deeper, as if it were possible, leaning back to keep the parchments out of reach.
[Gattius]: Not a chance! End of discussion!
Syrielle bristles at that, her ears standing on end, "WHAT did you just call me?! You're doing EXACTLY what that bastard wants by not taking it! What better way to spit on the old man's grave than to take his damn money and use it to do good things!"
[Syrielle]: Now hand those over! We're taking the money!
[Gattius]: Oh ho ho, I think -not-! I'm burning these, like I should've last week! We're not owing anything we have to that bastard! Least of all, "nobility" status! Which, by the way, since -when- do you care about nobility status?
[Syrielle]: Don't you fucking DARE burn those papers! I'm serious! We earned that money fair and square for what he put us through! And I've been thinking about it the past couple of months. It would help out your clinic AND up my chances do boost my rating when I join the Magistry. Now hand them over!
Gattius blinks once... twice! "... Huh, maybe I -do- need to see a mentalist, because I could've sworn you just said you were joining the Magistry!"
Syrielle takes his moment of shock to jump of and snatch the papers back, "You heard right! It's the best way to go for me. Trust me."
Gattius is at a loss for words! The parchments are snatched, as he just stares, bewildered, at Syrielle! "That's-- I-- WHAT!?"
[Gattius]: This is that bastard Everblaze's idea, isn't it?
[Syrielle]: No! ...Well... yes... he gave me the idea but it's -MY- decision. I've taken time to think it over.
[Gattius]: Well... think again! Syrie, the Magistry is -scum-! Politicians, only out for themselves! For building their own little estates and empires!
Syrielle straightens out the parchment and tucks it away safely in one of her robe's hidden pockets.
[Syrielle]: Not all Magisters, Gatto!
[Gattius]: Name -one-.
Gattius crosses his arms, expectantly.
[Syrielle]: Me
[Gattius]: You're not a Magister!
[Syrielle]: Yet.
[Syrielle]: Gatto, think about this.
[Syrielle]: You're sleep deprived, I know. But REALLY think it through!
Gattius huffs again, nostrils flared in frustration. "I'm thinking, alright. I'm thinking -YOU- ought to see a mentalist! That damned Magister Everblaze has gotten in your head! This is EXACTLY what I knew would happen if you took him on as a mentor!"
[Gattius]: Thinking about summoning demons around the house now, too? Light, Syrie, that's not you! The Magistry's a hive of scum and villainy! They'll eat you alive!
[Gattius]: The Magistry's the kind of crowd my father wanted in on! And you want to use his filthy inheritance to get there? You sure -I'm- doing exactly what he wants by -not- taking it?
Syrielle narrows her eyes, "You're father just wanted money and fame. -I- want what's best for Quel'Thalas! For our people! Isn't that what the Guard is about! Someone's got to play to political game to better the city! Wouldn't you rather have SOMEONE in there that you trust?! Come on, Gatto! This will guarantee I get to stay in the city, with you and Tannis! Would you rather I stay with the Sunreavers and end up getting called out to Silithus or Zandalar?!"
[Syrielle]: Because that's EXACTLY what's going to happen if I stay with them! You realize that, right?!
[Gattius]: Hmph! Safer still than diving head-first into the swamp of politics! At least your ethics and morals have a chance to stay intact on the frontlines! Someone else can play that game in the Spire - I'd rather it not be my wife!
[Syrielle]: So you don't trust me to be able to hold my own in the Magistry. Is that what you're saying?!
[Gattius]: Honestly? I would hope you couldn't hold your own there! The alternative would mean you're just as corruptible and selfish as the rest of them!
[Gattius]: That's the only way you could make it in that crowd, Syrie!
Gattius shakes his head, scoffing again. "How long have you been thinking about this? And when were you going to tell me about it? After they inducted you into their little club?"
Syrielle 's ear wilt, "I'm telling you about it NOW, now that I've had time to consider all of my options, uninfluenced. And of course -before- I joined. Fuck, Gatto! I'm not that inconsiderate! Why can't you understand?! I DON'T want to get shipped out away from you and Tannis! Especially after all this! The Alliance at our border?! I wasn't here to help mom and dad! I couldn't bare being away and not being able to help you and Tannis, too!"
Gattius shakes his head. "You make it sound like joining the Magistry's the only way you can stay!"
[Syrielle]: Isn't it?!
[Gattius]: No! You can just fucking stay, you know! You don't have to be a Sunreaver, either!
[Syrielle]: And do what, exactly? Sit around and play housewife?!
[Syrielle]: Is that what you want me to do? Sit around at home and pop babies out?
[Gattius]: Of course not! All I'm saying is you don't have to sell your soul to the Magistry to stay in Quel'Thalas! A citizen's life wouldn't be so bad! You could open up your own magic shop, or be a librarian, or whatever you want!
[Syrielle]: What I WANT is to join the Magistry and prove to you that I can do it WITHOUT selling my soul!
[Syrielle]: Don't you get it?! That's my stepping stone for becoming an Archmage!
Gattius frowns. "And if you're wrong? What'll you become then?"
[Syrielle]: If I'm wrong then I simply leave the Magistry and do what you said. Become a regular citizen and open up a magic school or something.
[Syrielle]: But guess what? A magic school owned by an actual -archmage- would do a hell of a lot better. Who do you think will promote me to Archmage in Quel’Thalas, hm? I'll give you a hint. It starts with an 'M'.
Syrielle crosses her arms over her chest, staring him down.
Gattius opens his mouth to speak, but... nothing comes up. He brings his hand to his face, and lets out a deep sigh.
[Syrielle]: Just... take a week or so to think about it, okay? I'm not jumping into this right away, okay?
[Gattius]: Sounds like you've already made up your mind. Without me.
[Syrielle]: Gatto...
Syrielle reaches out to take his hands, "I want to do this WITH you. Please..."
Gattius's ears wilt, as he turns back to the counter. He pours himself another glass of - yep, it was totally whiskey. "If you're set on being a Magistrix, fine. Go be a Magistrix. If you need to suddenly be a noble to get there, be a noble."
[Gattius]: And if you need my father's blood-stained inheritance to get that... fine. Go collect it.
[Gattius]: If you wanted to do this -with- me, Syrielle, this wouldn't be the first time I'm hearing about it.
Gattius drinks the whiskey rather quickly. He turns back to Syrielle, with a disappointed look. "I'm taking a nap. Letting you know now, so it's not a huge shocking revelation later, aye?"
[Gattius]: Light help me if I ever sprung something like that on you...
Syrielle 's ears wilt completely as he uses her full name, she opens her mouth to speak but just shuts it again. She shakes her head, eyes filling with tears."
Gattius steps past Syrielle on his way upstairs, without another word.
I will answer this one OOCly because Kaevia wouldn’t be one to discuss something like this so openly with someone she didn’t know or outside her social circle but…
The Magistry.
While she respects very few who still have their fingers dipped in that cesspool she tries to veer as far away from that as possible. While she was once an Apprentice within and she has learn quite a few ways of how to play people through the political hand, the atmosphere was not something she enjoyed. Being one who greatly dislikes conflict, there was much of it laced into every meeting Kaevia had ever attended which over time drew her further and further from it.
There is no regret in leaving, but simply a regret for allowing herself a moment to have a taste of it. Her mouth was soured by it.
"Clear my head for me, ser: You're telling me that a sparkling orb suddenly materialised in your hand, and the resulting shock caused you to drop it and break it apart, am I correct?"
The hapless sprite nodded her head. She didn't want to admit it, but her newfound magic lead to her seeking out the magister in the first place. She heard many stories of orb-seekers getting bested by their sudden powers, and the sprite was afraid of such magic cutting her own life short.
The magister was not surprised. "I can't fault you for it,", she began. "Orbs will spawn at any time and place, and the one you broke so happened to do so where you least expected it."
"On the bright side, you've been gifted with the ability to control one of nature's many elements, and with the right training, you'll find your powers will bring you much benefit in the future."
"On the not so bright side, not getting proper training for your magic will only lead you to chaos and confusion. Couple that with our Arliri wisdom and there's a very high chance that your magic will kill you."
The sprite shuddered at the thought. The magister had just confirmed her worst fears.
"But don't fret, ser," the magister said. "Since you came to us here in the magistry, you've helped us ensure that your powers can be managed in a safe environment, and therefore, stop it from killing you."
"However, we're going to have to determine what kind of magic the orb imbued in you before we begin." As standard in her line of work, the magister equipped her scouter and a pair of gloves. "Hold out your hand."
The sprite did the exact opposite, pulling her hands near her chest. The magister approached the sprite further, and the sprite stepped back in response. She came to the magistry to solve her magic problems; She didn't expect the magister to aggravate it further.
The magister was annoyed, but she was persistent. "Don't fret, ser," she said. "It will only take a few moments for us to treat you, and everyone will come out happier this way. It isn't even going to hurt! Now, if you could please ..."
The sprite was even more persistent, dodging every attempt by the magister to even lay a finger on her. She knocked over many potted plants in her bid to avoid the magister, and the offer of valuable coin wasn't enough to persuade the sprite to stay still. Try as she might, the magister was losing her patience.
"Don't fret, ser," the magister said. "I don't understand why you're so reluctant to test your magic for me, ser, but it's my duty to help control it for you. Now, if you could pl-"
CHHHHWWWWKKKHHHRRRRKKHHHHRRRRRRR went the magister as she grabbed the sprite's hand. Untold volts of electricity coursed through the magister as her scouter's glasses broke and her hairs stood on end. The sprite was a lightning mage, no doubt, but her powers were far stronger than many master mages. It wasn't long before the magister let go of the sprite's hand, but it would be long before the magister could get herself together.
The sprite herself was even more terrified by her actions. She had already seen the effects of her magic with her mother and child being the unlucky assistants, and even the experienced magister she sought out was not prepared to control her powers. If the magister couldn't treat her, then who could? Why would Dearest Devâ inflict such a curse on Her follower? Could the sprite ever return to peace with her community? Maybe her magic could be used to entertain them, but would it be worth losing the touch of her family?
Before the sprite could run away with her doubts and fears in tow, the magister came back to her senses.
"S-Stop right there!" the magister called to the sprite. "I'm not d-d-done with your diagnosis!"
The sprite turned around to see the magister hobbling towards her. "I have t-to be honest with you, ser," she began. "I've never s-seen a new mage harness so much power in her lightning magic. I've been t-torched all over by errant fire mages and f-frozen for years by untrained ice mages, but none have made q-q-quite an impact on my person like you. How you s-survived coming here is a mystery to me."
"Unfortunately, it's obvious to see that you have absolutely no c-control over your magic," the magister continued. "We need to settle this issue as soon as p-possible, so you need to decide quickly between two options: Keeping you in our living q-quarters until you can better handle your powers, or opting to remove the magic entirely from your s-s-system."
"Bear in mind that a novice with as much power as yourself would have to be k-kept away from the public for decades, centuries even. Life before this would likely be the last you see of your kin, but I p-promise you that a better grip on your magic will allow you to join the ranks of mages who've literally, and f-f-figuratively, shaped Sunad with their abilities. A chance for an Arliri mage to make another mark in the world!"
"I leave the decision in your hands, however. Ch-Choose wisely as it may well determine the rest of you-"
"I'd like to remove my magic," the sprite quietly answered.
"Are you serious?" the magister asked. "You could do a l-lot of world saving on Arlir's behalf."
The sprite nodded once again. Unlike many people across the world, the sprite never intended to gain any magical power in her life, and she hated the idea of having the entire world looking up to her for her ability to fry the people she comes in contact with. The sprite was even less comfortable with the idea of leaving her family and friends behind, for spending a day without them was an even bigger fear than losing control of her massive amount of electric energy. Besides, who would take care of her injured mother and child while she was gone?
The magister simply sighed, and she soon went to gather the tools needed to cure the sprite.
--------
I've been doing this on the same month as college-assignment month. I'm eager to witness the day where I mix up my business report with military tactics.
The following letter is distributed throughout the Sunfury Spire and other places frequented by Magisters, as well as to the desks of prominent statesmen and politicians.
Honored peers,
It is with great concern that I feel compelled to write you today, especially from distant Frostfire. As you all know, on this savage world Thalassian forces are again engaged in mortal combat with their enemies - this time, against both the Legion once more, and to avenge and prevent the continuing depredations of the Iron Horde of Draenor. On a cheerier note, we've achieved many great successes - the brilliance and heroism of the Frostwall Commander has seen the region of Frostfire Ridge united under the banner of the Azerothian Horde, and many natives have joined in our fight. While there will be many hard battles ahead, we may rejoice in the victories of the moment.
With such victories in mind, it becomes ever more disturbing - why do we tempt fate by seeking to do more than protect ourselves against these unnatural Botani? I have been to their wilderness, kinsmen, and it is truly terrible to behold. The living and dead alike become infected by strange spores of a parasitic or perhaps viral nature, rising as slaves to their plant-man masters in service to the will of the Genesaur - that being dominance of the natural world over the civilized. As a civilized people, we cannot allow this to come to pass. That goes without saying.
Why, then, would we seek to spread this plague of undeath? Have we so quickly forgotten the tragedy of the Fall, not to decades ago? My fellow Sin'dorei, I implore you - as would any man of honor - to carefully consider this situation. Even should we invent innoculation against the effects of these spores - which I do not for a second doubt that we will - these shambling beasts will obey their nature and attempt to destroy all form of settlement.
We are Sin'dorei - masters of the arcane. Our ancestors, the Highborne, had a great empire while the younger races were in their squalling infancy! Humanity, in all its power, owes its success to our gift to them during the Troll Wars. If we require a weapon, we have one - the mana bomb is the terror of all who face its use. Why, then, would we turn to the strange pseudo-druidry of the Botani? Our own arts have and will continue to produce more powerful and more elegant solutions to any problem our people face, and without the same self-destructive potential.
I will be brief in summary: The Botani and their creatures must be studied, but only for defense. Let the influence of these enemies of all who would not descend into the primitive darkness of the primordial world be left where it was born, and burnt out of anywhere it encroaches.
In service to Quel'Thalas,
Arthamir Tyrellian
Lord of Tyrellian
Champion of the Order of Blood Knights
Captain-General of the Sable Vanguard
Blood Knight Liasion to the Magistry
This letter is delivered by courier. It bears the Champion's official seal.
Lady Emberfrost,
Many apologies for not being able to speak with you after the Gala of the Rising Sun. As per usual, many urgent matters requiring my attention have come up. One of them comes back to you, however. I was informed by Professor Dae'rienne that you have been elected to the current Magistry's Trinity Council. I wish to speak with you soon in regard to a matter of public relations between the Magistry and military.
I do apologize that it has been quite some time that you have requested a meeting with me.
Now that my schedule has become less cluttered, please feel free to send word for any time and I shall be there. Perhaps over some wine or tea, we could get to know one another.
It is a very clever idea to reach out to the Magisters and Magistrix'. I would truly enjoy a moment to meet with you, as well. The past and coming days are quite filled with matters that call my attention, however, I will be more than happy to send word when I have a spare moment. I will do my best to make the time for you, as well, as I feel it important for the Magistrate to be acquainted as we come together.
