The awakening

Retired Play by Post Campaigns Ars Magica 5th Edition: A Sudden Spring
28

Lares smiles sadly at Albrecht.

”Well, at least you are as I remember you, my confused old friend. Yes, you were killed by hedge magicians, and then came back to save me.”

He waves his arm, indicating the laboratory.

”As for the rest… I was hoping you could have helped me figure it out.”

Lares sits down on the floor, raking his beard with his fingers.

”I remember being at my gauntlet, and then I suddenly woke up here, a place I don’t know, next to a girl I don’t know. And look at these notes – they are definitely written by me, but I don’t remember ever writing them! At first I thought I suffer from amnesia, but I don’t think I’ve grown older – do I look older to you? – and certainly not enough to have completed this much research!”

He looks up at Albrecht.

”Have you ever heard of anything like this? It’s as if I had… replaced my future self? Or better: as if my future self had been replaced by his former self. I don’t think I have ever heard of any Hermetic magic that could do such a thing. Have you heard of the Fae getting up to similar shenanigans? Or maybe the Infernals tricking us with madness of this sort?”

29

Zarkut's eyes widen and his steps halt. "If we are anywhere near the Nile, that is much farther from Provence than I have ever been. But how..." he trails off, mind full of questions and possibilities.

Then he shakes his head. The questions are pointless, he must gather more facts, first, to have any hope of answering them. He steps forward again, and opens the chamber door.

30

Okeannetis tries to stop herself from showing being startled by the unicorn's voice in her head "I didn't bind you. Am pretty sure if I did, I would have known I had done it, and what's more important, a Maga must befriend a creature to bind it as a Familiar, and it must be willing." And then she takes a step back "Wait, how are we able to communicate mind to mind? That requires a high skill, one that I do not think I possess, let alone binding a creature as marvelous as you."

She looks around the room for something to wear "Let me put some clothes on, and I'll come meet you outside, and we can see if we can find out what's going on. Ok?"

31

Tastheus begins reading through letters, of which there are a great many. Some are written in languages he does not know, some are addressed to different people, the ones which quickly catch his attention from a second stack however are from Magvillus, naming him as Quaesitor, and are dated ever seven years from 1222 to 1285.

It's like most of my ambitions came true. Well placed Children, a Quaesitor... Not sure if I'm an Archmage and Hoplite... Still. What in the actual fuck?* "Ok Perdas!" Tastheus bellows, "You have confused me! I concede that this is the most elaborate hoax ever played in the history of the Order! You can come out now!"

That, or I'm stuck in some kind of mentem effect...

32

Plasmatoris is a late riser, even when magical shenanigans are involved. The groggy Jerbiton finally pulls himself out of his bed, collapsing into a pile on the floor alongside. A few more minutes and the man is upright, blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes. The strange jewel catches his attention, and it seems to spark him, a sudden oddness that crackles through his mind and awakens parts of his awareness.
"What have we here?" he asks, head cocking to one side, reaching out to delicately pluck the gemstone eye, lifting it to his face and peering into it, studying the silverwork and the seam of emerald and opal. "Calo?" he calls out, for his Master's servant - former master's servant? Parens servant? - not turning his attention away from the strange oddity. "Who put this in here? Who sent it?"
Without looking, Plasmatoris gropes towards the nearby chair to get his clothing. Missing? Huh, how strange. And then that thought moves on past as Plasmatoris turns the gemstone eye to carefully examine the silverwork setting. His free hand casually scoops up a blanket from the bed and drapes it over his bare flesh to keep warm as he wanders out the door-
Oof. This room has a solid door, not an open doorway. He takes his attention away from the eye long enough to find a handle and open the door before wandering out into the hallway - he assumes its a hallway - and turns left towards the dining rooms, trailing blankets behind him.

This gemstone is VERY unique. It may be a gift from a Verditius - its said that they can make items that defy craftsmanship. He must look into it.

33

The girl responds "You are Argentius of verditius, or at least those are his clothes you wear, and you look somewhat like him, though as I said much younger. We are in the Covenant de Liberte, in Libya, where my parents were brought fleeing the Inquisition."

The voice in Aetherius' mind replies "I am in your mind/ You are in my mind! Maybe we are in each other's minds, but I noticed you in mine first! Who are you?"

"Your abductor? No silly, I'm your muse. Now come have some breakfast, and you might want to put your amulet on." She points to a wooden amulet on a line ribbon that sits at the table.

Albrecht smiles "You do look a few years older, you say you have passed your gauntlet now? Perhaps you should ask the woman if she knows anything."

Zarkut passes into a hallway, and finds attached a laboratory and a kitchen, in addition to a washroom.

"I sense your mind through this bond, that is how we communicate, since I do not speak with my mouth as you do. If we were friends I wouldn't be in this pen like.." the unicorn creature's voice in your head peters off as you hear the swinging of a gate on the pen.

Tastheus sits in the echoing silence as nobody replies to his call, until a young boy knocks on the outside of his laboratory door and asks a question in a language you do not understand.

Plasmatorius realizes that the work on the silver is incredibly fine, and shows no marks of a tool being used. Additionally, the setting seems, aside from its components, to be completely organic, mounted within the silver the way an actual eye sits inside the head rather than having prongs hold it in place. He then notices that the dining room is not to the right here, but rather he finds himself in a small art gallery with 6 paintings and six statues, and what really draws his eye is his signature on one of the paintings. Plus the woman in a blue gossamer dress, standing 7 inches tall, if she were standing instead of flying. With wings like a butterfly.

34

Aetherius will get dressed as he replies. "I'm Aethetius ex Mercere, newly gauntleted magi of Durenmar. And you are?"

35

"Hmm, I have gotten myself lost," Plasmatoris says. He shakes his head, pushing his unkempt dark hair back from his face. The sheets he's using to cover himself have been slipping, so he puts down the gemstone eye and hikes up his sheets, finally arranging it into a loose toga-like affair.

Then he turns to the statues, the paintings... and the pixie. "Oh-" he starts, then snaps his jaws closed. He turns immediately and steps back outside, ducking out of sight. I need to remember my new tricks, my new secrets, he thinks. And he quickly performs the short ritual necessary to raise his Parma Magica. I must remember to do this when I wake up in the future, Plasmatoris thinks. Only then does he stick his head back out into the gallery, the panic of coming face-to-face with a mystical creature without his protections having passed. "Hello there, little lady," he says, at his most formal. "This is a lovely gallery you're keeping."

And having covered his formalities, as trained, Plasmatoris finally scoots in to examine the painting. "Fascinating," he murmurs, looking over the work.

36

"Well we can agree on one thing then: I am Argentius ex Verditius," answers the young man. "And you knew me? When I was older? Did you work with me? In the lab or the forge? No, no. You said your mother is my cook, but someone else says you are my cook… Covenant de Liberte. Do you know where this covenant is located? You know my name, so perhaps I can know yours?"

The magus's grown remains furrowed as he considers the mystery of the situation.

37

Whose sanctum is this? Zarkut wonders. He makes use of the washroom, and while he's washing his face, recalls that he needs to form the habit of doing the secret ritual twice daily. So he does the Parma Magica, for the second time ever, and then goes out into the laboratory, and takes a quick look around, looking for clues of identity but wary that an angry magus or maga could show up at any time. He knows he should flee the sanctum immediately, but he can't contain his curiousity, and there could be answers here. "Al Zahut, let me know if you remember anything, please. Or if you hear anyone coming."

38

Aetherius' mental companion replies "I am the grand Ibis, venerated by locals as a symbol of Thoth. Well, I was venerated, when I had locals. What is this place? There is a geyser of water and it all goes into the air before it can hit the ground!

The pixie giggles, "I'm keeping? No, this is your gallary, though I don't remember you doing these last few. I'm memnemomene, your muse, you call me mimi. Your butterfly is outside trying to extract some nectar before it gets too hot." After a pause she mentions "You have two more galleries towards the front, but those aren't your works."

The girl closes her eyes "Libya. The covenant de Liberte is in Libya." She walks over to the plate and places some sort of meat, eggs, and some vegetables on the plate then closes her eyes. The food transforms itself into a... passable meal. At least the meat and the eggs are cooked. "Sorry, I'm Nicole, still developing my finesse."

Zarkut sees a well lit lab apparently designed around a desk, with maps upon one wall and a mirror opposite the map. A balcony protrudes from one side, despite not being far off the ground, and a collection of bits of masonry and pieces of ancient structures sit together, organized and labeled, including two pieces which stand out that look to be pieces of a triumphal arch.

39

Tastheus sits in the echoing silence as nobody replies to his call, until a young boy knocks on the outside of his laboratory door and asks a question in a language you do not understand.

Figuring this to be a trick of his pater, Perdas, he double checks, and no, his Parma Magica is not raised. Doing that first, he opens the door. "Excuse me," Tastheus will repeat himself in both Latin and French, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

40

Still nervous about being caught in a stranger's sanctum, Zarkut quickly checks the desk, looking for correspondence that identifies whose sanctum this is.

41

"Muse," Plasmatoris muses. "I always expected my muse to be something less symbolic. Ah! I apologize, Mimi, that errant thought was rude of me." He picks up the inset eye gem he had earlier set down, curling it into a fold of his makeshift toga-robes, and he turns from the now-forgotten art (It was his own work after all, so clearly nothing he can draw inspiration from) and sweeps outwards towards where he assumes the gardens would be. "My memory is a bit addled today, I think. I have no recollection of any butterflies, nor flutter-byes. Nor muses, to be honest. I should love to see this butterfly at work at their gathering. It might inspire me."

42

Silas’ suspicion only increases. Yet again answers that make no sense. He looks at the wooden amulet on the table, which he had failed to notice before hand. He would like to inspect it but if she wants him to wear it seems dangerous.

“Nonsense. This is the first time we have ever meet. I am not putting on any of your charms. Where have you taken me?”

43

"I humbly beg your forgiveness for my manners, what is your name, on noble unicorn? I am Okeannetis, a Maga of House Tytalus. do not like you being in a pen either, but I am not sure where I am, so as I said, let me get dressed, and we figure out what's going on here, as it's as much a puzzle for me, as it is for you."

44

Lares gets up and starts towards the hallway.

”You are right, of course, as always. Now, how are we going to do this so we don’t startle her needlessly?”

Lares stops outside the bedroom, knocks firmly, and calls out in Latin through the door:

”Dear lady, may I have a word with you? Nothing to worry about, but it seems that something rather odd has happened.”

45

The girl closes her eyes "Libya. The covenant de Liberte is in Libya." She walks over to the plate and places some sort of meat, eggs, and some vegetables on the plate then closes her eyes. The food transforms itself into a... passable meal. At least the meat and the eggs are cooked. "Sorry, I'm Nicole, still developing my finesse."

"Libya? Libya? What am I doing in Libya?" mutters Argentius as he looks at the girl, watching her at the plate as she cooks the food.

"None of this makes sense. This must be my father's doing…"

The magus returns to the table. "My casting tools…" He pats at his pockets as he looks about the room anxiously for the casting tools.

"Nicole, are you my apprentice?"

46

As Tastheus opens the door he sees a 10 year old boy with dark skin and dressed in white loose clothes that almost appear to be robes covering everything but his head and hands. He is continuing to talk in the language Tastheus does not understand.

Zarkut finds a number of lab texts and notes written in his handwriting, plus a few letters addressed to himself, a few in Latin, most in a language he does not know but recognizes as Arabic.

The sprite bobs up and down, "I can imagine, it seems like just yesterday I became your muse, and you said the same thing then about expecting something less symbolic. You were older then. I expect you have somehow lost your memories as you became younger, probably the skills you developed as well. Which makes me wonder, did you paint these pictures or another version of you? You still have your reputation, that has not left you, and I am still bound... o your butterfly is your, what's the word, familiar?"

The woman smiles "I would ask where you have taken me, yesterday we were in Greece and I became your muse, today we are in this landscape of blasted rock. But the charm is not mine, you made it years ago. It covers your condition."

"Unicorn? I remember being called a monocerous, is that the same thing?"

The woman in the bedroom begins shouting in an unknown language.

Nicole shakes her head "I don't think so, I have never had the Gift. Like I said, my mother was your cook, but now a girl who says she is my daughter, despite being the same age as me tells me I am your cook. Cook is not really descriptive, since I use the enchanted plate. You helped set up this covenant when my mother's mother was a child, and we fled the Inquisition in Provence, except it wasn't Provence anymore, but part of a unified France. We are Cathars, and had to flee."

47

"Do you know what year this is?" asks Argentius. He then pauses, considering, and then establishes his parma magica, taking care in the ritual.