Ravina groaned as she stirred from her long rest. Her body felt heavy as she rose up from the bed, her groggy mind numb to the arduous task of thinking. A soft groan left her lips as her eyes slowly opened. She needed to blink a few times before she could see where she was clearly. She stared for a while. The haze of her mind unable to fully process anything but the large yawn she just let loose. By the time her small hand whipped the tears from her eyes, she found her in a dim room, lit only by a small flickering light.
Through the small illumination, she found dark weathered stone bricks meticulously stacked and sealed with black mortar. They closely surrounded the girl, forcing a chill to drip down her spine and quicken her breath. Her bed, a small lumpy mattress, was pushed to the far end of the room. It was no bigger than the width of the wall and if she were any taller she wouldn't be able to rest on it at her full height.
It alone was the sole object in, allowing only a small distance to reach to the other side of the room where rusting iron bars stood menacingly at her in the confined space. The smell of decaying metal played sharply on her nose. Now that she had regained her senses the smell caused her to bring a hand to her face in a useless attempt to cover her nose. Unfortunately, her breaths quickened as her heart beat faster in her chest. If she didn't know any better she would think that she was in a cell. But she knew better… right?
She was forced to close her eyes. Her back falling on the oddly warm wall as she curled up into a ball. Her mind was filled with turmoil as she rushed to find a reasonable explanation as to why and where she was. A sharp 'clink' reverberated from the cell door. The girl's eyes shot open and she looked up to find Archazaus, the wizard, ambling into the room with a bundle of fabric cradled in his arms.
"Ah, you're awake. My apologies for the disarray, we didn't exactly prepare a room for you," he confessed, stepping further into the cell and placing the bundle on the bed beside her. Unfolded, the items revealed themselves to be gray robes with a matching cloth belt and a pair of small, brown sandals.
"Truth be told, the blame rests on me," he continued, an amused chuckle slipping past his lips. "My memory isn't what it used to be, I must admit. Without assistance, I'd probably find myself in a tight spot - but I digress! Change into these robes and we can commence. Once we conclude the ritual, we can truly begin." he clapped his hands together as he looked up, his eyes twinkling—their unfocused attention seemed to push past the damp wall, staring at something else entirely.
"Ritual?" Ravina echoed, a frown creasing her brow.
"Indeed!" he affirmed, he continued talking as he left the small cell. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to do much, just being there is all you have to do.” leaving the door ajar behind him he turned to face her. "Apologies, but I must attend to the preparations. There's a great deal to be done." he left, shutting the door with a sharp click. “Ah!” he added from the other side of the bars, “the gate is unlocked so you can leave whenever but please stay inside, this is where we keep a few of the more… powerful beasts. Nothing to worry about!” With that, his voice vanished along with his steps.
"What..." Ravina's question hung suspended in the air, unfinished. No one said anything about a ritual. Perhaps it had something to do with accepting new members? Her hand fell on the clothes he brought her. They were comfortable. Made of something far better then the dress she was currently wearing but… “I like this more.” she muttered as she tugged at the hem of her gift.
Shaking her head she stood up from the bed and started to undress. Carefully folding her dress he pulled the robes on, keeping them in place by a small cloth belt. It was more than a little baggy. Now fully clad in the oversized robes, she looked around and as the time ticked forward she felt a small shiver run down her spine. The oppressive stonework around her seemed to shrink the space, eliciting an unsettling sensation.
"Well," she whispered into the uncomfortably warm, empty air, "what now?" The question hung in the air, unanswered and eerily echoing off the stony walls.
The suffocating quiet didn't linger for too much longer. To her relief Archazaus was back in a flash, his face peering curiously between the cell bars. "All set?" he asked, his voice full of unanticipated enthusiasm.
"Uh… yes?" Ravina replied, her tone mirroring her uncertainty.
"Excellent!" Archazaus pulled open the heavy cell door, the iron bars grating against the stone floor. "Well then, let's get moving. This is exciting, isn't it? There aren't many colorless mages around these days. I can't wait to see how this all unfolds!" His cheerfulness was almost infectious, almost enough to drown out the anxiety coiling within her.
"Colorless mages?" Ravina queried, her brows knitting together in confusion.
"Yes, you see, there are about 72, maybe 73 different classes or colors of mages," Archazaus explained. His words provided a much-needed distraction as they navigated through the intimidating, cavernous room beyond her cell.
The space was a gigantic, circular expanse, carved entirely from the same unforgiving stone as her cell. The light outside her cell seemed even more reluctant, barely able to hold its own against the oppressive darkness. Cell doors, like the one she had just exited, were interspersed every thirty feet along the circular walls.
Despite the visible emptiness of the cells, a gnawing sensation tugged at the edges of Ravina's mind. She couldn't shake off the eerie sense of countless pairs of unseen eyes observing her from the depths of the cells. Hungry, dark eyes. Suppressing a shudder, she stuck close to Archazaus, focusing on his steady stream of words, a lifeline amidst the sea of shadows that threatened to swallow her fear whole.
"I'm what you call a black mage, or dark mage," Archazaus started, his words echoing off the stone walls. His fingertips lightly skimmed the rough surface of a nearby cell. There was a casual ease in his action, as if he were touching an old, familiar object. "Our talent lies in manipulating anything tangible, anything with substance, all due to the Heylos Cells within them."
His chuckle bounced off the walls, a sound as dry as the stale air around them. "Of course, There is a common misconception about us, you know demon worshipers and all that but honestly they're okay. It's not like all black mages are evil.”
His voice was steady, unfaltering as he explained the different mage classes: blue, red, green, yellow, cyan and so much more in between those dyes. Each had unique abilities. Blue mages were masters of water and sea. Green mages could influence plant life. Yellow mages could manipulate emotions, both lifting and dampening them. Cyan mages were intriguing, able to control the water suspended in the air.
“...but if the Cyan mage gathers enough water it would become more difficult to control.” Archazaus concluded with a dismissive wave of his hand, "It's a captivating subject, really. We'll uh, delve into it more later. heh. For now, just remember this - mana has color. It's different from the color of the mana-filled blue blood cells in your body. Learning to sense it requires time and experience. But don't worry about that. The key takeaway is that my mana color is black, and yours, Ravina, is colorless. That means you can manipulate all the colors with ease."
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He paused, his words sinking into the silence of the dungeon. "What a gift. Some might see it as a wasted one, though." His voice was a mixture of whimsy and solemnity. "But it's something we need now more than ever. After all, what lies ahead is what truly matters," he added, his tone contrasting starkly with the grim surroundings.
Throughout the explanation, Ravina listened, her heart pounding in her chest. His words were too much, too fast. She clung to the rhythm of his voice rather than the meaning of his words. The cavernous space was intimidating, and his presence, his knowledge, felt like the only anchor in a sinister sea of uncertainty. Even as he painted the world of mages with colors and powers, she could only half comprehend, too focused on the stifulling warm air circling around them in the darkness around her.
They finally reached the end of a winding spiral staircase. Ahead, a door loomed. It looked as if it had been consumed by a vicious fire, charred and scarred but still standing. A strange, crimson light bled from the cracks, creating a stark contrast against the oppressive darkness.
Archazaus raised his hands in a deliberate motion, and the door seemed to shudder as if in fear. It shattered, its fragments imploding, drawn into its own frame, vanishing as if swallowed by a shadowy maw.
"This way," he coaxed, placing a gentle hand on Ravina's shoulder, guiding her into the room beyond. His voice was soft, reassuring, "Don't be afraid. Everyone else in this room will not hurt you.”
The room Archazaus ushered her into was vast beyond comprehension. At first, the only visible feature was a solitary stone pillar standing in the center, its top smeared with an ominous red stain that seemed to throb in the faint light. But as they stepped further into the room, a rush of lights burst into existence, revealing the room's true nature.
It was an auditorium, colossal and imposing, filled to the brim with figures shrouded in full-length, ebony robes. Thousands of them, their numbers stretching out into the far reaches of the room. Each was concealed behind intricately crafted masks that took the forms of animals. The masks gleamed eerily under the sudden flood of lights, their details meticulously crafted, making the animalistic features appear disturbingly lifelike.
Ravina recoiled, the chilling spectacle before her sending a tremor of fear through her core. She attempted to turn back, to retreat, but Archazaus' grip on her shoulder was unyielding, anchoring her to the path forward. His hand burned and she Inexplicably moved towards the horrible stone pillar.
As she grew closer it grew more malicious. The scars on its surface cracked with a sickening red light. The air around it rushed away, as if to run but was caught in its pull and a dark energy pulsated with the gentle tune of those in masks, hummings some dark tune.
Arriving at the foot of the pillar, Archazaus nudged her forward. As soon as she was out of his grasp, a strange force seemed to compel her actions. Her robe was discarded, pooling at her feet on the cold stone floor. She stepped to the pillar and turned around. Resting her back against the freezing cold stone and wrapping arms around it behind her. The chill cracked its way through her veins until it pierced her heart, holding it tightly and binding her to the stone.
A group of the robed figures broke from the mass, approaching her with a deliberate pace. They wound twisted and barbed cords around her, cutting her skin as she was bound tightly to the pillar. It was only after that and her blood dripped down that she regained control of her own movements.
Like waking up from a bad dream she violently snapped back into reality. Tugging her binds she found warmth only in her pained tears as she did nothing more but scrape off the skin from her wrists. She opened her mouth to cry, to beg for help, but all she managed was a silent scream.
The auditorium began to thrum with a chilling chorus. Though most remained humming, a large group of the robed figures started to chant words so distorted, so inhuman, they seemed to crawl through the air. What began as a quiet murmur soon swelled into a reverberating echo that bounced darkly off the stone walls.
From the crowd, another robed figure stepped forward, cradling an ornate silver dagger. The sight of it gleaming brightly in the dark made Ravina's stomach churn. Its handle was grotesquely embellished with twisted faces, screaming in agony, their eyes bulging in eternal torment. The blade itself was cruelly serrated, gleaming ominously under the room's harsh light.
Archazaus received the dagger with a subtle nod of his head, his long, slender fingers closing around the handle gently. The chanting intensified, pounding against Ravina's eardrums as the voices turned into shouts.
Archazaus turned to face her, his face twisted in delight. His movements seemed slow as he stepped closer to the girl. He moved the Ritual Dagger to his chest, the blade pointed to the floor and carried it to her with both hands on the handle. It should be noted that no creature, human or otherwise, naturally possesses blue blood cells. Yet, these cells undeniably exist. They serve to transport and regulate mana throughout the body, though they don't purify it - that is a function of the heart.
These blue cells could be compared to corrupted blood cells, shaped by the intricate channels of mana within the body. These mana pathways, similar in structure to the system of blood vessels, intersect and weave throughout the body. Mana itself is closer to energy. It can traverse through objects, given enough force, and minimal force is needed for it to flow through the body. This fluidity is what empowers magic users to manipulate it to their will.
The blue tinge of these cells is a result of prolonged exposure to mana, akin to the mutation induced by radiation. It begins insignificantly, with the mana pathways - minute conduits that can barely facilitate the flow of mana. However, with each manipulation, each curve and flex, these pathways expand, facilitating superior mana control and enhanced spell casting - among the many skills a magic user could strive for, this process is usually painless and poses little threat. Usually.
However, Archazaus stood inches from Ravina. He pushed the dagger forward, its pointed blade drawing a line on her skin as he moved it ever so slowly before stopping it just above her belly. The girl was numb now, horrified at the understanding that she was mear seconds from the end. She could no longer hear the sound of the twisted ritual. She felt only the stones grip on her heart and the point of the blade and she saw only the grey eyes of the madman before her - the red specks of his eyes almost glowing in his madness.
For a moment, one brief second stretched to eternity she wondered if this was nothing more than a dream?
Then she felt the sharp sting as the knife was slowly pushed into her tender abdomen. There was a cryptic inscription on the blade and it filled, and glowed brightly with her blood. Ancient magic was activated and a sinister spell forced her mana pathways open all at once. And they opened wide. Such pain was unimaginable. The agony that flooded her was beyond comprehension. Ordinarily, such torment would've been lethal. However, the fiendish design of the blade ensured its victims endured every painful second, in fact the blade wouldn't allow anyone to die with it still inside.
Without the release of death and being unable to fall unconscious, Ravina’s soul shattered. Split into the fragments of both past and present. Memories of hundreds of lifetimes tried to bear the unspeakable burden of her breaking mind. The cruel twist of fate was a common thread in each life - they all ended prematurely by the strike of a blade. Eventually the broken spirit found escape in one broken fragment.
A life where magic was a myth and technology was the pulse of civilization. A peaceful life in a time where skyscrapers kissed the sky and people communicated through screens, a world where the most daunting task was to beat the morning traffic or to meet work deadlines. But even in that advanced world filled with firearms, explosives, and gasses, it was the rudimentary edge of a blade that ended her life - a mugging, all for a mere $14.07.
The irony was almost enough to drive her mad, the sheer absurdity wrenching a crazed, half-laughing scream from her lips as the blade was drawn back. Her blood cascaded in an unhurried dance, a ballet of crimson spiraling down like a feather, winding its way towards a concealed magical circle etched into the stone floor.