This is DEFINITELY not Fudarus... Where in the nine hells did Persephone leave me? Is her first thought when she looks at the black rock mountains, but her shock grows when she sees the magnificent black unicorn. Did Persephone bind me to him while I was asleep? But what about her claims that my visions show me that I should be binding Birna? She stands confused, but then, she gathers herself and looks around the room for some clothes to wear, while thinking Don't worry you big boy, I will unravel this mystery aimed at the black unicorn.
Lares wanders through the lab in astonishment. He stops to browse through the lab notes, brow furrowed.
These are mine! Greek alphabet for gestures, Bavarian curses for dead endsâŚ
Lares lifts his head and looks at the laboratory with new eyes.
Could I have forgotten more than I thought?
He looks at his hands, trying to gauge his age, then freezes suddenly as if realizing something.
âAlbrecht? Are you here?â he calls out, almost whispering.
Silas pulls his head back into the room.
This is turning worse by the second, I should try to get out of here before anyone notices I am awake.
Silas start looking around in the room for any of his possessions, most importantly his casting tools. Perhaps with a little luck they were left carelessly by his side. Some clothes would be useful as well. The room Silas finds himself in continues to puzzle him. It doesnât resemble any ideal prison cell, so why should he have been left in it. It might need a more thorough investigation. Besides there must be a door out somewhere?
Aetherius begins rummaging through the chest which is filled with light loose clothing, some of it plain white and some of it died in bright colors, especially blue. It does seem to be fitted for him. As he is searching a voice calls out in his mind "Thoth's balls, what is this accursed place, and who are you?"
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 atention from a second stack however are from Magvillus, naming him as quaesitor, and are dated ever seven years from 1222 to 1285.
The floating man bows his head to Zarkut and thinks a moment "it has had many names, but I think the one you will be familiar with is the Nile."
Argentius steps into a hallway, a washroom to one side has sealed jars within, and there is a kitchen as well, save that there is no stove, simply bins of food and a large plate. A young woman, you would guess of a bloodline from Provence or Italy, stands in the kitchen and speaks to you in broken Latin. "I believe my mother is your cook, but I cannot find her anywhere, and another girl I do not recognize claims I am her mother and I am your cook. She glances up and her jaw drops and she exclaims something in a language that is certainly Latin based- perhaps Northern Italy or Provence, confirming your earlier impression. "You have made yourself so young! Is this real, or illusion?"
The unicorn looks at Okeannetis and returns a thought "Who are you, and what is this binding you have over me?"
Albrecht appears, just as you remember him "Sir? Young master? It seems I've been killed. They should, no... we are already bound? And where are we?" Albrecht seems to have forgotten even more than Lares has.
Silas room does have a door- it is a normal bedroom door, and opens as soon as he tries it, leading to a lab and dining area with a few sealed pots of water and a large plate beside containers of various fruits and vegetables. An Italian woman in her late 20's stands bare chested before you with a smile on her face. "There's my handsome artist, did you sleep well? Perhaps tonight I can share your bed so you need not be alone? Are you ready to unpack your artwork?"
"Illusion? No, I think this may be real," answers Argentius as he looks at the young woman. "You say I look younger? What do you think my name is? What is your name? Do you know where we are?"
Aetherius is startled when he hears a voice in his mind. "I'm wondering the same thing. Since you're the one in my mind, perhaps you should explain yourself."
Silas raises his eyebrows in shock at seeing the woman. Since most of Silasâ hair has since long fallen off him itâs not particular noticeable. He considers slamming the door shut once more but at least this strange might be able to answer some of his questions. After a brief pause, he stammers out.
âWhat⌠I⌠Are you my abductor?â
Silas focuses his eyes on this woman â if thatâs now what she really is. She doesnât seem spooked by his Gift nor leprosy. He canât make sense of anything she just said, it must be some ploy. Is it some faerie game? If only he had his casting tools at hand he could feel a lot securer.
Lares smiles sadly at Albrecht.
âWell, 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.â
He waves his arm, indicating the laboratory.
âAs for the rest⌠I was hoping you could have helped me figure it out.â
Lares sits down on the floor, raking his beard with his fingers.
âI remember being at my gauntlet, and then I suddenly woke up here, a place I donât know, next to a girl I donât know. And look at these notes â they are definitely written by me, but I donât remember ever writing them! At first I thought I suffer from amnesia, but I donât think Iâve grown older â do I look older to you? â and certainly not enough to have completed this much research!â
He looks up at Albrecht.
âHave you ever heard of anything like this? Itâs as if I had⌠replaced my future self? Or better: as if my future self had been replaced by his former self. I donât 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?â
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.
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?"
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...
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.
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.
Aetherius will get dressed as he replies. "I'm Aethetius ex Mercere, newly gauntleted magi of Durenmar. And you are?"
"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.
"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.
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."
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.
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?"
Still nervous about being caught in a stranger's sanctum, Zarkut quickly checks the desk, looking for correspondence that identifies whose sanctum this is.