[Analysis by The Greater Universe Counsel]

The most common Theoretical approach to Magicka has been the theory of the Perfect Storm. Based loosely from a dynamical systems approach, greater simplified by the forming of storms. When the barometric pressure, heat and humidity is just right to create a tornado, a tornado is made. There is no specific reason for it all to occur; it simply does. The perfect storm that led to little Elliot was Talia. A boy with potential but moved himself away from it. Believing himself ordinary, rudimentary, simplistic, but our little Elliot was so much more. Without the sacrifice of Talia. Little Elliot would have been gone. But once little Elliot wasn’t running on his, but her, time the generator sparked to life. The universal cogwheels began to spin for little Elliot. Elliot was no Messiah, Elliot is no Messiah, Elliot will never be a Messiah. The only person that shows him was his sister, a feat seen by her chosen by her and no one else. Little Elliot's birth was not the product of a universal fate. Talia made a sacrifice, she made for him. There were no greater workings than the love of a sister for her brother. That was it plain and simple. Which led to the creation of her little abomination. Thus, we conclude, Talia was the fated one, Little Elliot simply rose because of her sacrificial workings.

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Elliot quickly ran back to the safety of his and Linea’s balcony. With a leap he reached the second story easily, as she reached out an arm grabbing and pulling him up. They retired to the center room of the cottage, avoiding windows.

“Elliot…” Linea quietly whispered

“Yes Linea.” He responded bracing for the vernal lashing he was about to receive.

“You’re not like the other Circian’s here, you are impulsive like a human”

“What that supposed to mean Linea?”

“Many races think the fact that humans still exist is a miracle, human are weaker, human have less genetic variability, human—” She rambled.

“I get it we’re weak you don’t have to rub it in” Elliot interjected finally looking to where she was reclined across the room. Linea blushed.

“What I mean is that that courage and brash nature to run into a fire for people that you’ve never met” Linea cleared her throat, “Elliot you just ran up to a demon that killed you, you were enveloped by its red mist, then you walked out unscathed”

“I was just thinking that it would be good to put on my dating profile to make myself seem more mysterious” Elliot chuckled. He looked at the unamused Linea.

“How are you so calm Elliot? “ Linea snapped

“Why are you so worried?” Elliot retorted quickly.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“What in Sheol is up with head idiot” Linea bit.

“What in Sheol is wrong with you and your kidnap happy a*s” He dug his claws in, “ You bring me to a Dragon tier and expected me just to be okay with it because I’m not human”

“Would you rather we left you with the imperium a**h*le can you not be grateful” Linea rose from her cushion.

“I was doing fine with the Imperium, and now I’m a traitorous deserter that on a hunting list!”

“Elliot you were a play thing for their researchers. Look at your chest and tell me that they were helping you in their best interest!” She screamed pointing at his torn garment that he had yet to change.

“Don’t talk about being a plaything for the imperium with me!” Elliot stepped toward her.

“You… bast*rd!” Linea eye filled with tears as light refracted flashing in the room as she disappeared. Her tears clattering to the floor before her form was gone. The table in the room erupted into splinters. A torn table leg flew like a speak toward Elliot. He let it hit his chest as the rest of his chest was revealed. The wood knocking against his chest like it hit a wall. Not a scar left. He felt a weak stream of strikes hit his chest. Elliot wrapped his hand around her, holding her.

“I’m sorry…” She whimpered, “Just don’t scare me like that, or I will kill you.” Elliots chest warmed by the cool tears. He collected some of the cushions from the room and placed them around her, as she refracted back into the visible spectrum. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep before Elliot even placed her down. Her eyes held back sandbags of stress.

‘If I told you that you looked so beautiful right now, I bet you’d castrate me for sure then. LiLi this is no way for a trained assassin to act.’ Elliot thought as dared a finger across her smooth skin. The traced of light under her skin was enchanting. He laid her head on the pillows gently as her dimmed the lights of the cottage room with a gesture of his hand. He watched as light dance from her skin like the surface of the sun. Arcs of rainbow-like light moving across her skin like a painting of the auroras borealis and prominences.

Elliot took this moment to appreciate that light that after a bit faded into a soft stable rhythm, he assumed following her sleep cycles. Taking the Weirding Scroll from where he had placed as he walked into the center room of the cottage. He reclined by Linea’s soft light and read.

The writings given him by the Weirding Sisters, were odd. Elliot opened the scroll revealing the embossed golden letter that once read would stop glowing. He would glance across the page as the light would dissipate, he would learn. As He read, he was left with many more questions. He at first was surprised he could read them, but the oddity of understanding the sigils was secondary to his confusion to the writings themselves. He would finish a sentence that would then be turned to gibberish. From what started to glean once he understood the one-time approaches to the writings was that they taught of specific uses and methods for magick manipulations. He saw tell of a lot, but soon he was famished and his head was aching after only a bit of reading. He had finished at least only a yard length before he ha d to close it because of the pain. Once closed the writing did not pain him so but he also saw that he was giving off slight golden wisps of mist.

He concentrated on some of the theories from the Weirding Scroll. As he felt the mist move to his will a bit. Sweated beaded down his brow as he was exhausted from his mediative attempts of magick manipulation. He could not just convince the power to move and flow, it wasn’t truly his, or at least that what the Scrolls taught. Magick belongs to the greater weave and should be respectful guided, or it will lash out. Like an newly adopted lion-hound that had never be trained before. He had long to go before he could produce a presence like the Weirding Sisters, but he was glad that their unique holy magick was similar to some of the powers inside of him. Content with his study Elliot laid down and drifted off to sleep.