(Did not like the original version, decided to re-do it. A lot more detail and more direction was put into the story.)
Previous Part (Sanctification): Inspiration Music
Breathe.
Just Breathe.
The words stood within Ilyea’s lips as the heaviness in her chest began to collect and fall away. Inhale and then exhale; she felt her mind say as the vigorous ritual had trained almost everything from her but then again, she couldn’t say this was the right time.
Ilyea felt the tightness of the bond which let her know when Aurora was nearby but dared not open it. The more she spoke with him, the more she’d want to crawl back to his side.
But the sanctum needed to be free from void, so that it could contain the void. It required writing the very existence of the chambers with the coding of her magical soul. Her avatar, the spark which creates her to cast magic.
At least that’s what it always felt to her. It was something that slowly become known to her as she trained throughout the years, the fury of flame and fire dissipating under the whirling storms of arcane.
When the contours of her body solidified under the regiments of her steadying breath, Ilyea entered the confines of the room that would later become her sanctum. Previous visits issued runes across the barrier that one would recognize from the trees but further augmented for the ritual. Further runes collected together from the middle creating three circles of runes. The outside having the most space while the other two growing smaller in size. The middle most one where the ritual would be taking place.
Earlier Ilyea collected a few buckets of water from the haven which she dropped off after the failed Black Temple attack. The water was tepid and cooled and carried a bit of the surrounding arcane winds that flowed around Outlands. It would serve its purpose once the ritual was finished, and the sanctum was finally completed.
Bare feet dried with blood slowly traversed the two rings that made up the inner most area of her lab, as Ilyea situated the robes outwards so just the tips of the fabric would touch the circle. Her hands still ached from the wounds from before but like her legs they had dried blood that moved down her skin like red sap rivers of red sap. One would think with the surrounding trees, that this elven was just some dirty nymph covered in grime, leaves and blood with her smudged white robes and wild black hair and not some type of magic user. It was an assumption that was fair to gather considering her surroundings as the mage adjusted herself against the dirt ground.
Her soul strength had to be stronger if she were to confront the well. Exactly how it worked was anyone’s guess, it had been so long since she had looked within her magical self. Her trainings, her faults. Instinct told her this would work and that was good enough for her.
A few steadying inhale/exhale combos and she steadied her rhythm.
Breathe.
Just Breathe.
Ilyea started to meditate upon her aura that her husband was so fond of. The whirling and electric buzz of how it felt when she conjured arcane blasts. How course it felt when she refilled her mana with a quick burst borrowed from the soul. The swirls and whirls that encompassed her that felt like a moving storm of power. One that that she could just grab a seed of and push outwards until it encompasses the tiny space she was trying to transform.
Though that could be the boring way of doing things, and the mage was never one to follow tradition. Extending her hand out as if asking for permission from an invisible partner, Ilyea closed her hand after a moment taking the silent acceptance and began to dance.
There would be no style associated with it but just steady temperament of twirling. Her foot as the axis, as her limbs extended out in whirling as she called the arcane from deep within. Ilyea watched the blue trickle down her skin, illuminating the veins of her blood with an azure paintbrush.
Each twirl, each sweep of her arms and she felt the runes resonate with Ilyea’s movements steadied herself against the flow of magic as the movement slowly coaxed it open. And within a quick blink of her eyes, it expanded and encompassed everything in a thick miasma of power that the runes seemed to hold onto like a toy. Her partner had become real, as her soul danced before her eyes.
If one could say they were within Terrokar forest, one would scoff at the picturesque blues and purples that seemed to dot the ritual site. It would make one think they were in the middle of netherstorm with the way the magics flowed over the runes, creating waves of power that seemed to center on her and propel outward like a leisurely breeze.
Ilyea breathed in as deep as her lungs could hold air until they started to burn before exhaling in a quick dizzying breath.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
The flowing cloud of colors seemed to delight and confuse as the mage continued to breath. Ilyea dimly knew something was going to happen but what exactly was going to happen, and what exactly did it mean to confront the well?
Or at least prepare herself for it.
Love?
The voice came so unbidden it caused the unifying mantra to be caught in her throat. Her blue arcane collected eyes observed the swirling storm she created to peer to where the voice possibly could have come from.
Curiosity dotted Ilyea’s face as she peered around the enclosure. It couldn’t be him, could it?
Her hand reached to her the tattoo which was burned into her flesh that herself and Aurora made for each other many moons past, but she did not feel the tug of its magic upon her own.
Love?
The voice asked again, this time more persistent and desperate. Within the illusion winds, Ilyea watched as the tempest grow dark as what seemed to be millions of milky dark black drops seem to spread and cover the outer layer of the runes like inky puddles. The well would not send its champion so easily but someone whom she’d call her husband first, Ilyea bitterly thought.
The inky puddles slowly turned into some small skittering spiders of illusionary void that piled high upon each other until Aurora was re-created in perfect detail. The black hair that usually hung in a tight fox tail swayed a bit to the winds as he was dressed in his favorite set of yellows and blacks, the tabard that adorned his outfit cut which was fashioned into a loose bracelet around her wrist.
Aurora’s stalwart features gazed upon her but she saw him as he was a few moons ago. Covered in gore and wistful staring at her as she existed within the sanctity of the inner circle. Slowly he outstretched his blood-soaked gauntlet to her belaying the illusion as some of the spiders moved as his arm flowed to keep the creation intact.
“Why don’t you call on me, why do you push me away?”
His question was a fair one and Ilyea wished more than anything to keep him close to her. Ilyea wasn’t sure how long she’d have to be away from Aurora for the voices to collect in his mind, push him closer to the void but their bond was still intact?
Was that enough?
The Aurora creation slumped forward, the yellows staining through with the blood, each drop that fell on the ground breaking the illusion as a spider skittered away.
“You know what Andy said to us about our connection to each other?” Aurora spoke pitifully as more gore soaked words fell from his lips. His hands reached out to pierce the inner circle but stopped from the invisible barrier that separated the two, his green eyes searching out her own as he rested his palms on the divide.
Is her best option of beating this menace by isolating herself? Keeping still to the inner ring, and giving herself her best chance by keeping herself pure or trusting others to give the same decision?
The mage was starting to doubt as she thought of her promise, and then again to the ritual she was currently engaged in.
“Why don’t you let me be your everything?” Aurora once more croaked, his features as soaked with blood as the sadness that surrounded his eyes. His voice faltered as his form started to melt from the ragged movements.
Ilyea felt her heart bleed along with him as her words pierced her heart more than any dagger could. As she watched his form dissolve, the mage knew that she had won but it didn’t feel like winning to her. It felt like a cautionary tale of how they could break apart if she continued to act carelessly. Was it more to be cautionary tale, or a distraction?
Outstretching her hand, Ilyea started to dance again focusing on the mantra as she moved.
Breathe.
Just Breathe.
The winds continued to shift and swell, the flow rippling her clothes and burning against her dried blood but Ilyea felt at peace. Numbly at peace. As Ilyea turned around in a smooth twirl, the subtle scentof menthol and spearmint alerted her at the next champion the well would call. Their true one this time.
Ilyea turned just in time to watch the inky arachnids dissolve into a perfection of Lledwyn. Or what was supposed to be him, bitterly cold and somber with icy blues eyes that belayed the abomination he became. He was dressed in polished saronite armor, his arms holding onto a large axe that seemed to twirl with souls as much as the netherstorm she had created. The death knight truly looked to be the embodiment of death.
“You are too reckless for your own good.” The man sneered, her iciness perfected despite the shadowy legs that poked out from the sheet of ice. Ilyea could practically feel the disdain dripping from his lips.
To say that his form didn’t strike fear in her heart would be a lie, but it had been ages since they had talked like this; even if it was an illusion. Ilyea felt detached and sad as she looked onto the man.
“You throw yourself against the current without looking at where it leads. You are a disgrace to this house, to my name. I wish you weren’t my sister. I wish the trolls would have killed you.”
The last few sentences they spoke burst into her thoughts mimicking the brightness of the arcane the flowed in-between. The last few words seriously spoken between the pair. Was it his true thoughts?
The sibling shook her head though her eyes showed the hurt. The ritual started to feel like a prison and a cage even if there was protection there.
Was there any sanctity by doing any of this alone? Should we even try?
“Didn’t we promise not to lie to one another? Shouldn’t you trust me more to help you?” Lledwyn whispered and just like Aurora, his form melted as the spiders returned to their inky form before. His dissipation accruing the conflicting feeling in Ilyea’s chest or right versus wrong. Strength of what she has.
But still, Ilyea continued to dance while the mantra rang in her ears.
Breathe.
Just Breathe.
While it had seemed much larger than before when she first started, her dancing felt confined by the ritual circle. The winds piled and moved but Ilyea felt no closer to her goal, in fact, she was starting to feel farther away.
She was starting to feel lonely.
Ilyea should have known that is when the well decided to strike with its next mouth piece. The mage wasn’t even that shocked when Malefaca’s form came next. The man whom had plagued her for a better part of her early years. An elf that no longer had much of a form but was merely a skeleton of fel enriched power that spoke in the same mocking voice as her fears that the spiders created.
“Where the hell are the people you are so proud of? Where is that fucking shit stain husband of yours? Anyone that can’t exist without you for a few seconds is weak. What a pathetic loser you have Ilyea, just like Francis.”
Was that when she opened her telepathic link to Aurora? Or was it when the rage started to fill the link as Aurora spoke. The anger sparked just like cold fire over washing over her shortening her breath. Ilyea didn’t know when she opened or closed the bond but his affirmations of love and support were enough to make her decision.
“You are weak just like the company you keep. They hold you back, you should get rid of them all.” Malefaca’s voice sneered in mocking contempt.
“Prove it then” Ilyea yelled back the residual of Aurora’s anger flowing over her tongue. “Prove to me that the company I keep makes me weak.”
Having received its challenge, the skeleton began to smirk. Its mouth then opened and closed in a wide gape of movement as the bones simulated laughter clacking together its jaws in chittering movements, the spiders spilling down to the floor as it did.
The mage knew in many years not to directly challenge Malefaca, it’s how he baits you. It’s how he wins but if winning mean isolation and loneliness, then Ilyea knew she’d rather fail because there were those around her to help her find another path.
The skeleton rose its hand to start their next dance as Ilyea moved over the protection circles. The illusion felt warm but solid as it folded her into his embrace, before shoving its fingers into her side marking her skin.
“Then depend on the people that you decide are as worthless as you and die among with them. Prove it, indeed.” The voice chuckled as it tossed her aside to the ground.
Ilyea succumbed to the pain as soon as the ghostly fingers hit her side; her eyes closing against the arcane winds that flowed over her like a tomb not even registering that she hit the floor.
–
It couldn’t have been more than a few hours but when Ilyea moved it was clear that she had done something. The wondrous blues and purples that surrounded the area had faded until the dull blackness as before. It was just her own labored breathing and the muted sounds of what was ahead in the forest.
As the mage slowly leaned up, she felt the pain beside her explode against her side and the she knew that where the apparition had touched her would not go away.
“Then depend on the people that you decide are as worthless as you and die among them. Prove it, indeed.” The mage dimly repeated in her head as she shakily stood to her feet. Was this tie purpose of the test or what the test was trying to tell her?
Trust. Or failure.
Ilyea licked the coppery film that coated her tongue and slowly brushed the dirty locks of black hair from her face. Inwardly, she hoped that Aurora wouldn’t get too angry at her. Maybe she can ask Theron for guidance.
She would prove that she wasn’t worthless, and that her faith wasn’t misplaced.
