Practice of Magic: Equilibrium

  • Darkness.

     

    Complete darkness was all around him, drowning him, going up his nose and down his throat, burning his eyes. It was playing with him, embracing him, like a distant mother embracing her child. Until he lit the light.

     

    The Atronach Forge suddenly became prominent, being everything he could look at as white-blue light was rising from his hand, rising to the ceiling and becoming more potent, the light intensifying. The circle was already waiting for him, beckoning him to step forward, to step inside.

     

    And he stepped inside, into the middle, standing on the Daedric Oht - O in Tamrielic - with his hands bringing forth the book he stole. It was quite a complicated spell, but he believed he had gotten it quite right. Didn't take him long to at least try to cast the spell, to practice before he started the ritual. And when he did, he felt his body weakening while his soul was getting stronger - life force exchanged for pure magicka, pure power.

     

    Freedom.

     

    None of them understood. What was driving him, what he had to do. Because they were all free, they could choose their destiny, take any path they wanted. But he was chained, by others beyond the reality, chained by his own mortal shackles. He needed to break them, to become more. To become strong. It was his birthright, denied.

     

    He would show them all what he was capable of. How strong he could be.

     

    Power.

     

    He lit the candles around the circle, making sure he wouldn't interrupt the delicate lines. The circle looked like dried blood to the untrained eye, but no, it wasn't blood. Getting so much blood would be...tricky. Instead of it he used a mixture of paint, magicka potions, soul gem dust and yes, a little bit of blood. All that was meant to increase the magicka circulation as much as possible. Every drop counts.

     

    When he lit the candles he stepped back into the circle and took a deep breath. With an open mind he extended his hands, his mind reaching into the streams of magicka, pulling, and he felt the raw creatia of Aetherius surging through him.

     

    Three items rose from the ground, carried by his will, and he pulled them to himself and then above each rune of power. Above the rune to his right flew the Sigil Stone, dark crystal emanating weak red light. To his left, the Staff of Magnus. And in front of him was a vial of his blood. Because blood is everythin'.

     

    “I bind the power,” he murmured and his mind reached out, to the circle, creating a chain between it and Aetherius - it was his anchor, promising a steady flow of magicka. And the moment he did that, the circle lit up with bright blue light, so bright he saw it even through his closed eyelids. He felt how the items were locked in place, being held by the magic flowing through the circle and that meant that the first part worked.

     

    “By the blood of the demons,” he started chanting, “I bind the power.” The Sigil Stone started emanating a strong light, like a world on fire, bright colors of orange and red burning through his eyelids.

     

    “By the blood of the divine,” he continued, “I bind the power.” The crystal on the top of Staff of Magnus became like an exploding sun, bright warm light of blue colours casting away all remaining shadows from the room.

     

    He felt the energies clash, Daedric powers hitting an equal force of the Aedric, and energy erupted all around him. Tendrils of shadows burning the floor and the walls with the needle like rays of light burning the ceiling, sizzling against the stone cold. The magicka was surging through him, like a lightning, crackling through his veins, beating instead of his heart, pumping all that energy through him.

     

    He no longer needed eyes to see. He saw...everything.

     

    But he wasn't done yet. That was just a taste.

     

    “By the blood of my flesh I bind the power,” he carried on with the chanting and he saw how the vial exploded into a thousand pieces, yet the shards weren't propelled to all sides. No, they remained levitating around the blood, which was swirling like smoke over the fireplace, dancing like a shadow thrown by a torch.

     

    More energy came to him, the blood of a mortal being the connecting link between Aedric and Daedric. Because perfect balance isn't achieved by two points. It is achieved by three.

     

    Equilibrium.

     

    Stop!

     

    You are a disappointment.

     

    The voices…

     

    You will bring nothing but doom.

     

    You deserve your doom.

     

    The voices...again…

     

    “You won't stop me now. Neither of ya,” he murmured, his mind expanding through the planes and realities. He saw the garden, the man and the woman, standing next to each other and watching. One sad, the other eager.

     

    One wants me to stop. One wants me to fail. “Not today, bastards.”

     

    He reached into himself, feeling his blood pumping through his veins, accelerated by the raw magicka being drawn to his body. And he tapped into that stream that never stops flowing, the power of life. And he drew it into his soul.

     

    The circle lit up with red light, engulfing the flames of the candles and the power magicka made him bend in his back, his arms being straightened by an invisible force and his head thrown back, with mouth open. The power!

     

    “I bind the power! Bow to my will!”

     

    And it obeyed. First it only touched him, gently stroked his hair, tasting him. Almost like if the power was alive. And then all the three flavours of magicka mixed. And surged into his body.

     

    Light exploded from his eyes and mouth and he released a scream. Scream of ecstacy.

     

    I see everything! The power…

     

    It swirled in his body…

     

    The power…

     

    It crackled through his every muscle, vein, every fibre of his being…

     

    The power…

     

    It started clawing, clawing its way out…

     

    The power...too much…

     

    It burned its way through his skin, his legs began shaking. And then he screamed again.

     

    In agony.

     

    And he could no longer hold it. Like a glass, he was able to hold only so much water. And once there was too much of the water...it started pouring over the top.

     

    He couldn't hold the power. Never. And he realized his mistake. For once...he really did.

     

    The power started pouring out, rays of energy destroying anything in their path. His invisible hands were trying to contain it, push it back, hold it together…

     

    But he couldn't.

     

    His throat was sore, and he realized he was screaming all the time, but it slowly stopped, his throat not being able to produce that sound anymore. Instead of that growls were escaping from his mouth, as thousand blades on fire cut and burned his flesh.

     

    He heard slimy laughter echoing through his head and the halls…

     

    And the power…

     

    Escaped.

     

    Stone around him cracked, air crackled with lightning…

     

    And then everything exploded in red light...Bright light…

     

    Sending him into darkness…

     

    And he kept falling.

     

    The rest became just a myriad of images, feelings and sounds.

     

    He heard Urag. He felt explosions shaking the ground. Saw figures shambling through the halls of Midden. He saw...something big, slimy…

     

    “Shut the door, Collete!”

     

    He heard sounds of a struggle, felt burning flesh. Screams of pain.

     

    “It won't hold them for long, Faralda!”

     

    “I just need a second...to catch my breath.”

     

    “Where is the Arch-Mage?”

     

    Grulmar eyes opened for a second to see the door of the Hall of Elements, with several people standing around him. All covered in blood and ash. Faralda, Collete, Drevis, Wuunferth.

     

    “He's fighting that thing. With Falion.”

     

    “Thing? Just call it what it is. A damn Sload!”

     

    “Where are the others?”

     

    “I saw them making a run for the Hall of Countenance.”

     

    “Probably trying to get to the roof, to the Arcaneum.”

     

    He realized someone was carrying him and he tried to stand up when the door to the Hall shook and then exploded. Shambling corpses burst in followed by skeletons wielding spells.

     

    “Shit!” someone cursed. “Wards!”

     

    “Burn them.”

     

    Whoever was carrying him dropped him and he felt his head hit the ground, the darkness overwhelming him again.  

     

    When he opened his eyes again he saw the ceiling of the Arch-Mage's quarters. The eerie magic light hovering above his head and he tried to stand up. His whole body felt weak, so it required a good notion of willpower to at least raise himself on his elbows. Collete was standing near the alchemy station, brewing some potions.

     

    He opened his mouth to ask what happened but the only sound that came out of his mouth was weak croaking that send a wave of pain into his throat. He moaned and that didn't really make it better. But it got Collete's attention and she turned to him, her eyes wide. She then ran to him. “Easy. You lost lot of your life force. You've been almost drained of all your life.”

     

    “Co-” he started and grimaced under all that pain. “Colle-”

     

    “College?” she asked and he nodded. “It's still standing,” she replied and then looked away. He narrowed his eyes. Ya really did it this time, Grulmar. She doesn't even look ya in the eye...He looked around the room, if there weren't other people and then he noticed his belongings at the side of the bed. All of them. Everything he brought to College. Trash. Garbage. Like ya.

     

    A loud bang sounded through the room and heavy steps neared closer. Urag came into his view, his clothes torn and burned, covered in blood, ash and some...green slime. The big Orc's eyes fell on Grulmar and he suddenly wanted to be somewhere else.

     

    “You,” the Arch-Mage growled. He came to his bed and grabbed him by his collar. “You tusking piece of shit!” Big fist landed in the middle of Grulmar's eyes, creating bright lights behind his eyes. “You Malacath-damned idiot! You tusking put everyone here in danger! Nearly got us all killed!” Another fist hit him, this time in his jaw. “I'm tusking done with you. I warned you, but you didn't listen. You're done here!”

     

    “Arch-Mage!” Collete shouted.

     

    “What?” he snapped back at her, gritting his teeth for few seconds while Grulmar's head was hanging limp, his eyes swimming, barely able to focus. “Argh!” Urag roared in anger and pulled Grulmar closer to himself. “You're lucky nobody got killed, because if that happened you would be lying in a pool of your own blood! Now come, tusker!” With one hand he pulled Grulmar from his bed and dragged him behind himself while the other hand grabbed his sack and additional backpack with Grulmar's stuff. He touched a wall and it...opened, revealing a small vault in the stone, with black stone standing on a pedestal.

     

    Urag got Grulmar on his feet and shoved him towards the stone, hanging the sack and backpack over Grulmar's shoulder. “Never come back here. Or I will kill you!” He then took Grulmar's hand and put it on the stone.

     

    The world span in front of Grulmar's eyes and he flew through darkness and then he landed on his knees onto something soft and wet.

     

    Cold wind almost swept him on his side and he shivered. He was kneeling in deep snow, cold assaulting his body, wind cutting into his bones...on top of some mountain. He saw the Sea of Ghosts to the east and the Rift plateau in the distance to the south.

     

    Now ya really did it...Ya have outdone yerself…Another failure. Another tusk up. Only much bigger this time. Ya let everybody down again. They put their faith in ya, showed ya some kidness...and ya blew it up. Again.

     

    He felt the hot blood pouring from his nose, going down over his upper lip and then falling down, into the snow. Few drops of carmine amongst the sea of whiteness.

     

    But they don't understand. They never will. I can't stop.

     

    I will never stop.

     

    He clawed back on his feet, barely able to stand and began looking for a shelter. Because he wasn't done.

     

    Next - Chasing Sun

     

Comments

10 Comments   |   Meli and 11 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  January 16, 2018
    Wow, that was some reading. I wonder what Grulmar does next! :)
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Caladran
      Wow, that was some reading. I wonder what Grulmar does next! :)
        ·  January 16, 2018
      Definitely not cry himself to sleep :D
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  January 28, 2017
    That little voice you have, the one which tells you it's a bad idea... 
    Grulmar don't have one does he?
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  January 24, 2017
    Can't say Grulmar didn't have it coming, the sorry bastard. Wonder what he'll be driven to do next.
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      The Sunflower Manual
      The Sunflower Manual
      The Sunflower Manual
      Can't say Grulmar didn't have it coming, the sorry bastard. Wonder what he'll be driven to do next.
        ·  January 24, 2017
      It's ironic, innit? He keeps saying how conjurers and necromancers always end up bad and then he goes and pulls off a stunt like this. People and justifications...


      And all I can say is that he's not done with magic. :)
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  January 24, 2017
    Woah, I never thought equilibrium could be so... dark.
    So wait, Grulmar summoned a Sload?
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      Woah, I never thought equilibrium could be so... dark.
      So wait, Grulmar summoned a Sload?
        ·  January 24, 2017
      As a side effect of the ritual he "released" a Sload. In Immersive College of Winterhold mod there's a Sload trapped in Midden.
      • The Long-Chapper
        The Long-Chapper
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        As a side effect of the ritual he "released" a Sload. In Immersive College of Winterhold mod there's a Sload trapped in Midden.
          ·  January 24, 2017
        Yes, the sload was trapped and Grulmar set it free. Nasty little bugger.
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  January 24, 2017
    Alright, this is it. The end....of Arc 1. :) Still have a long journey ahead, but PoM will be taking a break now. I´ll be posting my Amoss entries - it´s three parts story - in next few days and all I can say is that it´s closely related to this. Cheers! :)
    • The Long-Chapper
      The Long-Chapper
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Alright, this is it. The end....of Arc 1. :) Still have a long journey ahead, but PoM will be taking a break now. I´ll be posting my Amoss entries - it´s three parts story - in next few days and all I can say is that it´s closely related to this. Cheers! :)
        ·  January 24, 2017
      Great read, Karver. Very happy about this. And am looking forward to the next installment.