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In the ancient times of Atlantis, some of the most important Atlanteans gather for a magical ceremony in which The NeSpell would be created within The Arcanaeum, upon The Great Circle, and bestowed upon Magistarr. This made him the first NeSorcerer in the service of The Ancient One.

Post

A Map for the Future

Ancient Atlantis. Circa 10,000 B.C.

The continent is studded with beautiful cities of skyscraping minarets and domes and obelisks, but none are grander or taller than the central city itself, also named Atlantis. Miles skyscraping towers and palace sprawl out from the center, and it is in the central Holy District that the castles tower the tallest.

The great basilica that is the Grand Temple of the WriterGod dominates the very center, of course, but no less impressive is the royal palace a scant mile away. The Arcanaeum, venerable institute of magic, is right next to the grand cathedral, and the major bulk of it is a large dome situated between two towers.

Each of the towers is a tall but narrow pyramid, but the top points lopped off to create flat surfaces. Mystic circles are carved along the top, and there is a rotating schedule of mages in these two high circles, chanting holy rites 24/7.

Higher than the tower tops, situated directly above the central dome, is a vast and complex mystical symbol made completely of magic and light. It is configured of many sigils, that constantly shift and rotate about in blinking and flashing patterns.

It is this magnificent sight that has earned the Arcanaeum the derisive nickname 'magic lighthouse'.

Count Desmond: Is there a point to the light show? Or is it just to awe your neighbours?

The Hand of the Plot is looking up through the transparent dome at the bright symbol, as the Illuminohqi shuffle around him. Magistarr is holding a thick tome, his finger running across the words, but he deigns to answer the count's query.

Magistarr: Awing the neighbours WOULD be a point to it. But no that is not its primary function. The Orrery was first created by the Arcanaeum's founder, Luros, and every court archmage since has added to and refined it. With the narrative insight the Ancient One has brought me, I have contributed to it myself, and someday, my successor shall do the same.

Shinzallar, Magistarr's most promising apprentice, smiles to himself as he listens, his lithe dark fingers tracing a rune onto the floor from pixie dust. He has no doubt that he shall be this very successor of whom his master speaks.

Desmond however seems unimpressed.

Count Desmond: So an entire line of archmages has taken it upon themselves to make a prettier firework. Fabulous.

Lord Simon: Must you be so cynical, count?

Desmond curls his lip in a sneer at the Illuminohqi lord, just barely revealing his fangs.

Count Desmond: If I am not, who will be?

Magistarr: The Orrery is not merely a 'firework', as you call it. It is a living impression of the cosmic pattern. Not only does it reflect the nature of the universe as a whole, it can be used to affect the very reality that it reflects.

A glint of interest appears in Desmond's eyes, but he disguises it carefully. Magistarr suppresses a smile.

Count Desmond: So it is this that you plan to create your new spell from.

Ancient One: Very astute, Count. My judgment of you as a fine Hand of the Plot is ever borne out.

The last two Illuminohqi, the Ancient One and the young woman whom he is courting, are just now entering the central dome.

Fay: Sorry we're late. We were strolling through the snowblossom atriums, talking about the newest varieties of tea that I've created, and we lost track of time.

The Ancient One has on his face the dreamy smile of someone who is delighted to listen to his beloved speak, no matter what the subject may be.

Lord Simon: You know, if you two would stop dancing around the bush, you could get married and have done with it. There's still time to make it a double wedding with me and my fiancée!

Fay has the grace to blush, and even the Ancient One seems a bit abashed. The Ancient One clears his throat gruffly.

Ancient One: Well, down to business. Magistarr, are we ready?

Magistarr: Of course, my lord. If everyone would assume their positions.

The Great Circle on the floor is made up of multiple layers of mystic sigils and runes. A new circle has been inscribed within the innermost layer, of thirteen symbols marked in pixie dust by Shinzallar. The Illuminohqi take up positions on those symbols.

The 40 mages who make up the Venerable Ranks - the most powerful and learned mages in all the kingdom - take up positions in the outer layers. Magistarr is their head, and Shinzallar is the newest addition to their ranks, despite still technically being an apprentice. However, Shinzallar's power and knowledge are such that he could have long ago left his apprenticeship - but the ambitious youth knows there is no greater source of magical aggrandizement than under Magistarr's tutelage.

Magistarr: The Rite of Ente-Ashk, modified by the fiftieth incantation of Zildrog, with the Luros cadence. Backwards.

Chanting fills the dome, and magical sparks sizzle harmlessly about, causing various persons' hair to stand on end. Fay is unphased as her long hair stands straight up, calmly sipping her tea as the Ancient One squeezes her hand. Desmond recites the words he was taught, letting the will of the plot guide him, in his interpretation.

Above the wyrd collection of symbols that is the magnificent Orrery glimmers brighter, and light is pulled down from it to create a glowing morass in midair in the center of the Great Circle, as the standing Illuminohqi gaze at it in awe.

More light streams from the Illuminohqi, joining the glowing morass, and Desmond's words turn into mist, which floats over to join the glowing morass as well.

Ancient One: Thus do we shape our vision for the Story.

His words are not magical, nor planned, merely his whispered musing, but they are weighty indeed, and make their impression upon the glowing morass. The morass congeals into a tighter, small glow, darkening from white to gold to silver to turquoise, before winking expectantly at them, as the magicks are completed.

Count Desmond: The NeSpell....

Ancient One: Magistarr, your privilege and your burden are ready.

The archmage comes forward and opens his mouth. The turquoise glow floats to him and into his throat, before vanishing. Magistarr's narrative senses are opened, as he perceives the world in a way even more astonishing than when he was an apprentice first learning to see with more than his traditional five senses.

Ancient One: With this, Magistarr, I dub thee my NeSorcerer...

Notes

TBA

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