The Magic of Dance

Thread Status: Closed
Players Involved: Immortal Cyan, CommanderHorvat, Zaz
Characters Involved: Ève, Faust, Beriadan, the Dust Magic Dragon Mage
Setting: Sleibte West, Yfrelo City, Mage Guild of Sleibte, Examination Hall
Time: Current, Morning
Weather: Rain, Clear within Yfrelo
Theme: Breathe Carolina, Dropgun, Kaleena Zanders - Sweet Dreams (feat. Kaleena Zanders)

Rain fell outside of the weather warding shield covering Yfrelo City. The shield protected the city from the ill effects of inclement conditions, but the smell of rain could still be sensed on the nostrils of the inhabitants and the sight of the cloudy blue-gray sky could easily be perceived by the eyes. Having lived within Yfrelo for most of her life, by pure instinct, Ève thought the shield to be a comforting presence. However, she occasionally found herself missing the feel of rain pattering against her skin, and it was quite often that she went outside of the shield to feel exactly that. Quite simply, she was a dancer, and nothing felt better to her than dancing in the rain.

Unfortunately, she did not anticipate having the chance to do that today. It was the day of her examination for her potential entrance into the Mage Guild of Sleibte. Today, her dance would be utilized to encourage the flow of vikta within and without her body. Within the span of a few hours, she would have to prove to the leaders of the guild that her somewhat unique method of casting magic was viable and efficient, a task which had taken her years to accomplish at the college. Ève knew that she needed to fulfill a tall order, but she had not spent her time separated from the college in idle. She had prepared, practiced, refined, trained, and studied independently for months. Her skills with fire magic had improved significantly, but as always with magic, there was still much for her to learn. After all, magic was a field that people spent centuries learning, yet many still never reached a high level of mastery.

Ève had dressed in an especially glamorous fashion, as she was wont to do for most days. A gold-colored pair of high heels were strapped to her feet, which added a few extra inches to her height. Her dress was made of pure purple fabric, and it fit quite tightly against her form to perfectly accentuate the feminine contours of her body. It was the kind of garment that looked more difficult to move in than it actually was, especially given the tightness of the long, ankle-length skirt portion of the dress against her thighs. Finally, a pair of oversized gold-colored hoop earrings adorned her ears, along with a gold-colored nostril piercing on the left side of her nose.

With a sharp clacking sound marking her passage as her high heels struck the floor, Ève strode into the examination room with her eyes locked ahead, intent and focused on the task at hand. She stopped at the middle of the room, in perfect view of the archmages who would judge her skills for admittance into the guild. After stopping, Ève lowered into a bow and held her position for a few seconds, before rising to meet the eyes of her judges once more.

"My name is Ève. I have arrived for my evaluation of potential admittance into the Mage Guild of Sleibte."

Faust had heard that there was a place in this city where she might learn more about magic, and maybe enough to advance her own studies. She was tired and hungry, having run out of money for food in the last town before she got here, to Yfrelo. As she entered she had been in awe of the barrier keeping the rain out, making notes of it so that she would be able to study it more later. People moved away from her as she approached, face concealed by the deep cowl of her tattered robes that hid her form, a pungent, irritating scent following her as her body produced chemicals in her upper chest. A few people stuck around long enough to give her directions, all eager to do so and to have the dirty, chittering stranger with an eye containing a thunder storm go away. 
As she made her way towards the Mage Guild, following the directions she had received, she spoke to herself, mulling over the barrier that surrounded the city, planning tests that she could run on it to see how else it could be utilized. Before she knew it, she had arrived at the guild, and she didn't even realize where she was until she heard a voice say "... potential admittance into the Mage Guild of Sleibte." Snapping out of her mulling, she scurried over to where the voice came from and skittered into the chamber, following the well dressed lady's example and bowing. "I am Faust. I too would like to study here."

"Ah, and here she is."

Beriadan had just finished talking with the judges. He had been called on by them because of a somewhat peculiar student of magic that they were planning to review that day. This student was known for practicing magic in an... unusual way, much like Beriadan himself. Also, like Dust Magic, this unusual method was tied to the physical plane, though in a much more simple way than how he had taken it. The prospect of dancing to channel magic did fascinate him, so he, of course, had agreed to come. Upon arriving, well before the student did, he had gotten to talking with those that ran this mage guild, and they suggested something that surprised him, at least somewhat. His pioneering of Dust Magic was officially recognized, and he was being invited to take up a minor leadership position at the mage guild.

His job would be to inspect and help develop any unusual forms of new magic that popped up, as he seemed to be an expert with such things already. He would be especially involved in any new magic that involved unusual amounts of... physicality, as his Dust Magic was a prime example of such things. After a bit of talking and thinking, he announced that the offer sounded intriguing and that he'd seriously consider it. Shortly afterward, the aforementioned student arrived just on time. They hadn't been informed that Beriadan would personally test them, though he did hope that they'd know of him. He'd think the first thing a student of unusual magic would do would be to research if anyone before them had done the same. He has been known in the magic community for a good hundred and fifty years or so.

As Beriadan turned around, he gazed at the girl before him. Here is where she would show her worth to the magical world, and if she succeeded, her magic could become just as known as his Dust Magic. He doubted that it'd come to be known as a new form of magic, as it still cast similarly to traditional magic, as far as he was told. However, it was unique, and he appreciated that very much. It wasn't often that somebody was determined enough to forge their own style, especially when it came to something as complicated as magic. He wasn't quite impressed yet, but it was definitely a head start on her exam. However, if she hoped to impress those present with her clothing, she had the wrong idea. He could see the merit in what she was wearing, though, if it helped her dance more easily.

Still keeping his gaze firmly locked on this Ève, he would walk to the edge of the elevated structure that the heads of the mage guild kept their seats on. With a rising motion from both of his hands, off-white powder would seem to be sucked from the air beneath him, forming a light gray loose disk before him, which he then stepped on. Riding on this powdered disk, which manifested circular winds beneath it to keep him afloat, he would slowly descend diagonally, landing just a few feet before her. The disk parted beneath his feet, fading back into Vikta and seemingly evaporating at his mental command. He now stood before Ève... and one other.

"Hmm?"

Beriadan would turn his head towards the new arrival. He had no clue who they were, but he was pretty sure they weren't supposed to be here. However, he wasn't one to turn away potential students, and the heads had given him most authority over this examination. Now that he truly looked at the newcomer, he could tell something was off about them. That was enough for him to at least let them perform. He turned to the judges behind him and gave a quick nod, receiving some in return, allowing him to continue despite the intrusion. Turning his attention once more to the two before him, he would cross his arms behind him and begin addressing them.

"Well, as you both hopefully know, this will be your examination. Whether or not you display at least some promise will determine whether or not you are accepted into the mage guild of Yfrelo. I am Beriadan, and I will be your primary examiner. You may or may not have heard of me. Because of your" Beriadan would briefly look towards Ève while saying this "unusual practice of magic, the heads of the mage guild saw fit to call me, pioneer of Dust Magic, to examine you myself. Have either of you any questions for me before we begin?"

Ève turned her gaze to the left as an unexpected presence spoke next to her. She had not been informed that another applicant would be taking the entrance exam alongside her, but she had also not been told that she would be taking the test alone. Regardless, the presence of another applicant within the room did seem to relieve some of the pressure off of her, at least. If anything, she would have another applicant to directly compare herself to during the exam.

The judge's name struck Ève as familiar, but the mention of "Beriadan" seemed to ring a few bells within Ève's head as she recalled her old lessons, pertaining to the history and development of magical theory. Thankfully, the judge was quite vocal about his own accomplishments and the details surrounding those portions of her lessons quickly elucidated themselves within her memory. She was thankful for his pride, since had Beriadan been a more modest man, quite simply, she would have been clueless regarding his accomplishments and contributions to magical theory.

A slight surge of confidence began to well up within Ève's chest when Beriadan mentioned her "unusual" method of practicing magic. She had not informed the mage's guild of her usage of dance as a focus for her magic, but she wasn't surprised to hear that he knew of it. Rumors traveled fast within the magical community, and Ève's "dance-casting" had caused quite a stir among her old professors, especially when she had done it for the first time in public. With an invisible grimace, Ève recalled how hard her professors had worked to teach her traditional casting techniques, but to their (and her own) frustration, nothing quite worked. It took four years for her to generate magic without dance, but the manifestation of her vikta had always been weaker whenever she attempted any sort of traditional casting, in comparison to the potency of her vikta when she danced her spells out.

Ève returned Beriadan's gaze with a subtle and professional smile marking her features, one borne of confidence and grace. "No thank you sir, I have no questions and I am prepared to proceed with the examination."

She smiles, although no one would be able to tell and as she pulls back her cowl, she reveals a mish-mashed face, some parts covered by a deep red exoskeleton while the places with out it are a unnaturally bright yellow. The flesh around her right eye is wrinkled as it is pushed and forced to make way for the glistening black eye of an insect. Light cast from her left eye, human except for the lack of any pupil or iris and the lighting that flashes through it, casts shadows that give certain aspects of her face a more sunken appearance than they would have otherwise. Here scalp has short, patchy hair of an ethereal white that grows between the bits of carapace she has. On the left side of her mouth is one mandible that moves as she speaks in her some what cittering voice. 
"Dust magic. Draws vikta from surroundings and others. Has potential as energy source if not for stress placed on surroundings. Even so, presents interesting questions and challenges. What does examination entail? If it is display of magic, would request that you back away to avoid injury. Would like to speak with you regardless of results."

She pulls out a series of objects from a large bag on her back as she speaks, insect legs darting out from under her cloak to remove objects and place them to the side as she begins to set something up with two humanoid arms.

"Uh-uh."

Beriadan would calmly raise a hand towards Faust, gesturing for them to stop. Sure, he appreciated their enthusiasm, especially after they displayed at least moderate knowledge of Dust Magic. However, while he was going to let them perform, they still had to wait their turn. Ève was the one scheduled for today, and Faust would have their turn after her performance. Beriadan had no idea what they were constructing, but he did look forward to seeing it. It'd be nice if they pulled out an enchanted device of some kind, as he did love seeing new gadgets and gizmos.

"You will have your turn, as I only have so many eyes. Yes, this examination will be a display of magic. I will be judging you based on your performance in various areas. Now, Ève, if you would take the stage and show us what you can do."

Beriadan would walk to his left, heading towards the side of the chamber, beckoning Faust to follow, and becking Ève to the middle of the room. Upon reaching his destination, he would turn towards the center of the room, arms once more resting behind his back. He was looking forward to this dance magic of Ève's, just as much if not a bit more than he was looking forward to whatever contraption Faust had. It was time to see what her magic was capable of doing. Just as Faust joined his side, Beriadan would tilt his head towards them, addressing them quietly about their earlier statement.

"I would love to talk about Dust Magic as much as you would like, but that is for after the examination. For now, we watch."

"Yes sir." Ève responded calmly. She was going to go first, and it meant that whatever she did was going to set the standard for the next applicant to live up to. However, she was glad for that, at least. She would get her performance over with, and be able to sit and watch whatever Faust had planned to present in relative comfort, after she was done.

With her heels clicking sharply on the floor, Ève walked into the adjacent chamber and into the center of the room, where she was within easy view for all of the judges present for the evaluations. The purple fabric of her dress seemed to turn a deep matte shade within the natural lighting of the "stage". Ève halted at the exact center of the stage, and paused for a moment. Her eyes subtly avoided the intent and patient glares of the judges surrounding her. Fortunately, the silence within the room seemed to be her cue to proceed, when she was ready.

With an inaudible intake of breath, Ève closed her eyes, stretched her arms outward, and began to slow raise them into the air. At the apex of her position, Ève's hands crossed each other and her hips began to gyrate in a circular fashion from the left to the right, to a beat that only she could hear. All the while, her hands began to flutter across each other with a graceful rhythm.  However, her movements became more emphasized, faster, and dramatic, until it seemed to the eye that her hips were almost halfway separated from her torso. With each beat that passed, Ève could feel her vikta flowing like a calm river throughout her body. The vikta visually manifested itself as a subtle cyan aura of magic outside of her body, which formed along the surface of her arms and her chest. As she moved, the saturation of the magical aura outside of her body grew more dense. In addition, her eyes turned a solid bright cyan color, which quickly covered the entire visible surface of her eye.

Suddenly, the flow of the vikta within Ève's body grew dense and powerful like a waterfall. Her magic was primed to be unleashed to the outside world in full force, and she did not intend to hold back.

With an artful flourish from her arms, Ève generated a flurry of pure wind around her, which made the cyan aura of magic begin to swirl around her body. As the aura began to visible shift around her form, Ève initiated the next portion of her dance, in which her movements retained a flowing and energetic grace. Her movements focused heavily on her arms and her tummy, in much the same manner of a belly dancer. However, Ève's dances were completely spontaneous, but the logic and routine behind her motions could be elucidated through the rhythmic manner in which her vikta coursed within her body. In essence, the manifestation of her magic and her dance was controlled by the will of her vikta, which in truth, she possessed only rudimentary control over at her level of study and experience.

Utilizing the aura around her body as a means by which to display the potency of her air magic, Ève channeled her magic to create a large whirlwind of her aura around the the stage. Although her performance was more focused on the aesthetic of her magic rather than its unction, the practical effects of her air magic were on subtle display, especially given her ability to manipulate external forces.

Finally, with a flourish of her hands, Ève called her vikta back. The cyan aura around the stage began to disappear, along with the potent gusts of air magic within the room. She took a deep breath, and all that remained were a few beads of sweat on her skin, a subtle, yet clear sign of her exertion...

Faust furiously jotted down notes and observations as Eve danced her magic, the wind swirling around her moving form. Even after Eve finished, Faust continued to jot down notes and potential implications of what she had observed, eager to see how she could use it in her own studies. 

As she finished her notes and snapped the dirty and worn note book shut, she gathered her materials and got ready to move to the center, eager to share the fruit of her own labors. A weird shaped fruit, admittedly. In fact, it wasn't really much of a fruit but rather a series of glass jars patialy filled with water, metal stakes driven through their necks to sit in the liquid contents.

Faust leans over to Beriadan as to not cause too much of a disturbance. "Shall I go and set up now? Display may take a little longer." Her eyes gleam with excitement. At least it seems like they do, that could just be a trick of the light, however.

For a moment, Beriadan looked deep in thought. Afterward, he would nod his head, deciding on his course of action. Calmly raising a hand to Faust in a motion to continue waiting, he would step towards Ève. His face blank, he would put his left arm behind his back, tracing his right hand in horizontal circles. As he did so, the same off-white Dust he utilized earlier would materialize, most drawn from his body but some drawn from the air around them, beginning to circle the room in the same fashion as Ève's magic during her performance. It took less than a moment for the Dust to activate, forming a vortex of wind, which he and Ève were inside of, strong enough to change the air pressure in the room, a feeling that would be very noticeable to all present. Should one be caught in the vortex wall, they would find themselves hit with force strong enough to push them along the ground. And this was all done in a fraction of the time it took Ève to perform.

Beriadan did this not to boast about his strength. It was all in preparation for the lesson he was about to give, one that he thought would be very important that Ève paid attention to as he gave it. Ceasing his hand motions, Beriadan would clench his right hand into a fist. This motion would seemingly cause the wind vortex present to collapse spontaneously, sending a moderate breeze across the room and out the exit. Beriadan was careful to direct the wind away from the other judges present, as he didn't want to be rude. Putting his right hand behind his back, Beriadan gaze, already locked on Ève, would sharpen. His face was solemn as he spoke.

"Slow."

He, at first, spoke only one word. However, that one word formed the basis for everything that he was about to say, so he found it vitally important to utter before he continued.

"While it is lovely that you have found your own unique method, it is clear that you still have much to learn. When I heard of your 'Dance Magic,' I thought I would be witnessing a flurry of moves, each accompanied by a burst of magic. I expected spontaneity and was instead shown a small dance all for a single elemental feat. One that has also already rendered you physically strained. I think that, before you continue doing anything, there is one thing that you should focus on in your studies, and that would be using Dance Magic not as a tool, but as a form. Let me show you a brief example."

Without breaking his gaze, Beriadan would raise both of his hands. He would begin using each arm in circling motions, rotating around an invisible sphere in front of him. As he did so, Fire Dust would be drawn from his body, bright red in color. This Dust would briefly coalesce before igniting into a swirling sphere of flame. Letting his left hand fall, he would move to perform vertical circling motions with his right hand only, reshaping the sphere into a rolling disk. He would let it hang for a few seconds before once more clenching his fist, extinguishing it.

"What I just did there was use Dust Magic in an untalented way. I used it to replicate, not perform. I formed a wheel of fire in much the way a regular mage would, bringing out fire and then shaping it, but, unlike them, I cannot do this entirely mentally. So, to compensate, I used Dust to manifest the energy instead, in the same manner they would but by using a different medium. This is not how you should treat your magic. Instead of using Dust Magic as a crutch, I embrace its physical nature and use it to my advantage. I toss aside how a spell is traditionally formed..."

As he said this, he would curl his right arm, his palm open. The same red Dust he has just used would begin flowing out of his body, coalescing in his hand. With a flick of his arm, ending with his arm nearly straight and his palm up, the same wheel of fire he had formed earlier was present once more in a small fraction of the time that it previously took. However, instead of the previous wheel, this one had not been formed all at once. If one were to look closely, they would notice that the Dust would spring from his hand like a comet, partially ignited and leaving behind a trail of fire in its wake. This comet would be gradually consumed as it made a full circle, essentially drawing the wheel of fire as it burned up. Beriadan has used the physical nature of the Dust, and the fact that he could control it before activation, to generate rotation at the same time the spell was being formed, both forming and shaping the spell in the same second.

"...and instead find a new way to perform the spell, in a way that is only available to me because of my magic's different nature. It seems to me that instead of embracing your peculiarity, you are using it as a crutch to try to be normal. You are trying to perform traditional magic using different means, not accepting that it has been performed how it has all this time merely because that has been the most effective way. I suggest that instead of finding a different way to do the same things as others, you embrace your peculiarity and try to use it to do things that others cannot. Instead of using your dance as a crutch to try to walk normally, you should walk your own walk, or rather..." Clenching his fist and extinguishing his wheel of fire, Beriadan would grin as he spoke his next line. "...dance your own dance, so to speak, no matter how peculiar it may be. What say you to this?"

As her hair blew in the vortex, Ève listened in quiet and attentive fashion as the elf examined and judged her performance. His criticisms were certainly legitimate, but she could not help but to feel a little anxiety as he made his observations and remarks. Her dancing style had always been more oriented towards deliberate grace, rather than speed and agility. It was inevitable that her dancing style bled over into the manner in which she practiced magic. Even with a slow and graceful dancing style, Ève knew that she could be faster and more efficient in her spell casting. It was only a matter of time and practice.

However, the elf’s last words gave her a wholly new perspective.

He was right, wasn’t he?

Indeed, she had been using dance as a crutch in order to assist her in casting traditional spells. After all, she had done exactly that back at the college, out of necessity. She had been completely unable to cast magic without dance, The examinations at the college could only be passed through casting traditional magic. Nontraditional forms of magic were deemed to be unacceptable, and from the words of the more anxious professors, led to things such as necromancy and other “dark” forms of magic. As such, those were the styles that she had learned and dance had been her crutch.

“I agree with your assessment, sir.” Ève responded quietly. “I admit, I feel somewhat...daunted by the prospect of reexamining my technique, but you’ve gave me a...revelation of sorts.” She concluded in a mild tone. “Thank you sir.”