Mira's Test - Part I

[Muryllis]

A girl, one with no prior formal training in magic of which he knew, who wished to test for advancement to training in elementalism?

This would be hilarious.

Muryllis stood alone in a dark field of grass behind the Academy, awaiting his student. As a joke to himself, he had set the time of the test to 4 in the morning; now, as the grass was only beginning to collect dew and the sun had yet to peak over the horizon, he awaited her - Mira, the aspiring elementalist. Oh what fun he would have failing her; nobody starts from scratch and gets away with it.


((Meh.))

[Mira Nightingale]

((You suck. Well, anyways, this takes place ahead of my current plot-line… so everything is now officially out of order because Verdan is slow replying, lol.))

It was early morning, too early, and too dark and too cold in Aesir. Mira had only gotten here a week ago, after the fateful night that still haunted her dreams. The fire had responded to her fright, just like Shadow had said it would, and had severely burned Lord Bryant. Whether or not he was dead, Mira didn’t know. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know.

Trudging toward the field of grass beside the academy where she would be tested, at insistence from many different people, she hugged her navy colored cloak tighter around herself. She had been granted sanctuary, and now resided in the city of Aesir, where she had just days ago learned that her mother grew up. That had come as quite a shocker. Her mother, daughter of a famous necromancer? Shocking and definitely hard to believe. But what Shadow called her talent wasn’t easily forgotten, and that would make perfect sense of where she had gotten the skill from.

Seeing the old man standing still in the field, she quickened her pace slightly and continued on toward him. Verdan had been teaching her some basic magic in the last few days, but she wasn’t nearly as good as he was. Going from making a small rock glow months ago by sheer will power to actually doing controlled spell work was a major step. She was improving, but it was slow. She could only hope that whatever she was being tested for, she would be able to complete without complete embarrassment.

[Muryllis]

"Welcome to Aesir," Muryllis chanted. "Tell me, if you will, of the extent of your magical prowess." Not that this information would affect the test he had in mind for her; stepping up from nothing to elementalism simply didn't happen, and the skills (or lack thereof) she would demonstrate would show that. "I hear you have not had formal training within Aesir; what makes you so confident that you can weild something as chaotic as magic to a degree that would make me want to pass you? Are you sure you possess the skill to even begin learning about elementalism, let alone attempting to use it?"

[Mira Nightingale]

As soon as she stopped her brisk walk in front of the elder, he started talking. His voice was loud enough to annoy her, but she didn’t let it show. She didn’t think she even needed to take a test, let alone one at four in the morning! All the pressure from others for her to be tested had finally gotten to be enough, and she had decided to. This man, whoever he was, seemed to not even want her to pass. Formal training didn’t matter! If she put her mind to it, she would accomplish it. Not letting herself think anything less, she answered him.

“As you have probably heard, sir,” she added in the title after a moment, deciding that manners had never hurt anyone, “I am new to the city, and have been granted sanctuary within these lands. Less than three weeks ago I was involved in an accident that left a person dead.” Not able to stop herself, she let out a slightly shaky breath before continuing. “That was blamed on what a friend of mine called uncontrolled power. He told me that I have skill in the elementals, and that has been most apparent with fire and water, fire being the more difficult to control.”

A slight pause once again, but then she finished answering the old man’s questions. “In the weeks since I came here, I have been learning the things I should have learned first before struggling with the elements. So I was told to come to you before continuing to learn.”

[Muryllis]

"Indeed," he noted briskly. "You will not be allowed to train under myself and others in more complicated arts until you have demonstrated your grasp on magic, along with a tolerable degree of knowledge. In short, if you don't seem to be worth the effort, I won't bother with the paperwork and ceremonies required to pass you."

"Now then, for your first test, I'd like you to transcribe a verse of whatever scripture you are most fond of. The transcription shall be performed using magic; you are not allowed to touch whatever objects are required for it." With that, a stack of fine parchment appeared, along with a writing desk (devoid of an accompanying chair), a quill, and a vial of black ink. "The ability to manipulate objects with magic is, from my experience, a key ability of all aspiring mages. You may begin."


((OOC: Just talk about the nature of whatever your character chooses to transcribe.))

[Mira Nightingale]

Silently bristling at the old man’s hurtful words of her possibly not being worth the effort, Mira walked over to the desk and looked over the objects assembled for it. A quill, a jar of ink, parchment, and the desk itself. She could levitate small rocks, but she doubted her skill of making the quill dip itself into the ink and then write out the long words of her favorite scripture.

Staring at the assembled items for a long moment she slowly raised a hand as if to move them herself, but the hand stopped short of actually touching the jar which she reached for. Instead, she took a long, slow breath, closing her eyes and remembering her conversation with Shadow long ago. He had told her that she had the talent, but it was just a matter of learning to reach and find it, and then to apply it.

Opening her eyes slowly, yet leaving them slightly narrowed, she stared down the jar of ink. Jerking her fingers slightly, the jar slowly… slowly slid closer to the parchment until it rested right beside it and the quill. Once that was done, she sighed softly and licked her suddenly dry lips. This was going to take a long time.

[Mira Nightingale]

Next step was the actual writing of her select passage. For that, she actually needed to dip the quill into the ink, and then manipulate it to write the passage she had chosen. She already knew the passage she would write, since several hours each week were devoted to church, religion, and the bible. She’d be ashamed if she couldn’t remember a single one.

She finally raised her eyes to the quill, and it slowly, just as slowly as the jar of ink had, rose off of the desk. It hovered a minute in the air before dipping, but she straightened it out. A thin coat of perspiration was covering her forehead, and her hands were suddenly clammy. This was a lot more work than she had ever really done.

The quill rose up higher, turning itself until it was perpendicular with the table, and then she let it drop. It fell into the ink, stopping just as the tip touched the bottom of the jar, and then rose out again. With a long, relieved sigh Mira moved it back toward the parchment and then lowered down so it touched it.

Search the scriptures, for you think…

It was scrawled sloppily, but it was readable. The passage she had chosen was much longer, and she silently berated herself for not choosing something shorter. Still, if she accomplished this, she knew that she would be very proud of herself. The quill fell down onto the table, the ink on the tip having been used up. Time to do it again…