The Dawncaster Chronicles [Mages, Arcane University], Have you ever thought about taking the dark and thorny path? Options

[Illydoor]

This is my first story that I've posted on the forums, it's not finished, so I'll probably be posting updates a bit sporadically throughout the year. It entails the story of young apprentice mage at the Arcane University, thrown into a world of mystery, murder and threat as the past returns and he is plunged headlong into it. I hope you like it...

~DAWNCASTER~

Prologue

Have you ever considered taking the dark and thorny path?

The voice was so sultry and alluring it made Magnus retch. Mysteriously dark, ominously sinister, like liquid poison running through his ears. The rich sound echoed off the thin walls of his house and filled the room with a soft, reverberating boom. Magnus shuddered.

It chuckled.

I know your type, boy, I know it well, but in a thousand years of painful existence I've never seen someone with so much…potential, as you.

Magnus did not dignify the compliment with a response. He was way past speaking, or even breathing for that matter. Abject fear had rendered him beyond speech or any comprehension at all of what was happening. He was utterly paralysed.

The thing chuckled malevolently again, a deep, sonorous rumble. It sensed his fear.

Speak! Only the foolish would summon me to their whim and not have the bravery to command me!

The voice rose suddenly and thunderously in volume, shaking the floor as if each syllable had the power to crush worlds at mere expression. The words echoed inside Magnus' head long after the monster had finished speaking, chilling him to the very core as icy trepidation laced the pit of stomach and his blood ran hot under his veins.

A low chuckling sounded once again.

I can feel your fear boy, your anxiety. It warms my essence, feeds my soul. Yet I can feel your power. I foresee great things for you, boy, great things.

Magnus remained silent, staring hard at the wooden floor beneath him and sweating feverishly.

Hmph. You have summoned me, and in return for the sacrifice of your soul, I shall see your ascension to greatness and immortality, if you should so accept my divine guidance. What say you, boy?

Finally, Magnus, roused from his terrified stupor, managed to stammer a few words out.

"Th-thank you, m-my master..." Magnus winced slightly as he noticed with great discomfort how weak his voice sounded, how insignificant it was compared to that of the monster.

The thing grunted, as if sizing him up. For a moment silence gripped the room, choking and stifling.

Hmm. Yes, indeed, you will do well. Come, young Magnus Dawncaster, I have much to teach you…

***

She was miles away, but the flames were still there. The pain still lingered like a terrible after-image, haunting and chilling, flashing every time on the backs of her eyelids whenever she closed them. She wished them away in frantic desperation, but the insatiable blood-thirst of the red flames couldn't be quenched, couldn't be stopped.

They burned brightly, burnishing the night-sky a tarnished red.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not shut them out. Their fiery gaze burned through anything, destroying, ruining, killing.

And still they burned. Never to cease, visions of fire and destruction, of vivid redness and anger. Elsa watched her world burn in her eyes over and over again. An eternal nightmare she could not wake from.

Hot tears stung her eyes as she ran, the dancing embers hot on her heels, their heat prickling and their roar terrifying, cackling and howling with malicious glee.

Pain engulfed her, clouding her mind with agony. She had no strength to scream, every iota of her energy spent entirely on just keeping awake. Yet she couldn't stop running. The flames chased her.

Branches and leaves whipped her face, but she ignored their sting. Roots and stray logs threatened to trip her, but she persevered, scrabbling quickly to her feet when she fell, a new, fresh gash on her person whenever she got up again.

All the while, the incessant burning continued in her ears. If only she could get away, escape, just anywhere where the flames could not reach her and her precious, precious cargo. In her heart she knew there was nowhere, the illusory flames that cursed her mind would stay with her to the abyss and back. They would burn in the darkness, in her dreams and sleep, they would smoulder on until death took her, and even then they would follow in her the afterlife, haunting her spirit.

She kept running, and fatigue dragged at her like an iron weight strapped to her soul, though she had lost the feeling in her wearisome legs a long time ago. She knew she couldn't keep it up forever, and already she felt her pace slowing, her feet falling heavily and stumbling amongst the dark undergrowth. She could tell she was at the end of her limits, her strength drained and her willpower spent. She knew soon she would fall, and the flames would catch up with her, devouring her in a swirling inferno of suffering and agony.

She ignored the icy pain that clawed at her consciousness and pressed on, finally breaking through the shadowy woods, forcing herself onwards on sheer determination alone.

She was nearly there. So close to being liberated from her haunted life, freedom from the ravenous flames at last. She only had to make it.

Through the writhing and hissing flames that consumed her mind's eye, the Arch-Mage's Tower loomed in to view. Its steep grey walls promised salvation and release from the pain.

Deep within the dark fire that raged inside her, a shadow of hope flickered, and with renewed vigour she fought away the flames for one last time, stumbling through the giant iron gates and scrabbling helplessly at the door.

Blackness began to seep into the corners of her eyes, and the flames began to deaden. Her breath slowed, and everything went into a time lapse, her movements sluggish and her vision blurred like a misty window.

She fought it, struggling to keep the flicker of hope in sight. She knew she was living on borrowed time. Any second now, death would take her, siezing her in it's inescapable grasp.

Through bleary eyes she saw the heavy wooden door creep open, and the Arch-Mage stood there, silhouetted in the yellow light that spilled from the open gap. Not able to keep herself up any longer, she slumped to the floor with a cry of supressed relief. The Arch-Mage ran to her immediately, holding her head in his hands and uttering inaudible words.

Darkness. It was beginning to consume her, her gaze narrowing as death prepared to embrace her, to finally make the flames stop. She beckoned the release.

With her last dying breath, she pushed something into the Arch-Mage's arms and whispered a final word before her world was plunged into blackness.

"Nathaniel..."

As he watched the life seep out of Elsa's eyes and her motionless body settle against the cold stone floor, Arch-Mage Honorius Greymane stood frozen in shock and grief, and in his hands a newborn baby began to cry.

This post has been edited by Illydoor: Apr 25 2009, 08:50 PM

[Illydoor]

Chapter III: The Exam Begins

It was dark by the time Nathaniel had finished cleaning the stables. A calm evening chill had swept in, blowing away the mist and drizzle, leaving the midnight sky pure and crisp. Nathaniel, exhausted and sweating from his labour, drank it in like a cool beverage, the soothing breeze doing wonders to his fatigued and work-weary limbs.

Arch-Mage Greymane had not even bothered to visit Nathaniel to relieve him of his detention duties. He had merely sent one of his messenger imps, Lumsnug, to deliver the message once his allotted time was up – accompanied with a brief but painful kick to Nathaniel's shins for good measure. Nathaniel, thankful but irritated, gave the evil pet a mild shock in revenge before sending it on its way, the electrocuted sprite muttering spiteful curses under his breath as he left, still twitching slightly.

Nathaniel exhaled a long sigh of relief into the midnight sky, jadedly grateful that he had finally finished his work and could return to his warm bed. Though he knew in his mind it was a needless victory. He still didn’t have enough time to prepare for tomorrow’s examination. By giving him this detention, Greymane had practically made sure that Nathaniel was going to fail tomorrow morn.

Nathaniel hoped with all his heart that he could prove him wrong; that he could finally see the stern, condemning face of the old fool replaced by one of shock and regret, that he could finally get some measure of approval from him. He wondered idly whether it was indeed too much to wish for.

Throwing the brush down miserably, Nathaniel rolled up his sleeves and ran a hand through his matted tangle of brown hair, stretching his worn out arms into the sky. After one last check that everything was spotless in the stables, Nathaniel left the University Boulevard, so tired he could barely push the iron gates open.

Overhead, the moon was full and bright, casting long shadows on the ground and creating rippling pools of darkness on the cobblestones beneath Nathaniel as he reached the dormitories at long last. Its beckoning bed sign – swinging slightly in the soft breeze – was a welcome sight to Nathaniel as he opened the thick oaken door as silently as he could, careful not to make the age-old rust-coated hinges creak as he entered.

Shutting the door as quietly as he had opened it, he crept upstairs past the common room, the crackling inglenook still blazing hotly near the armchairs. He noticed some students curled up amongst the thick cushions, books and lengthy tomes still in their hands from revising.

Once he entered his dormitory, he immediately sprang for his bunk, its soft pillows heaven to Nathaniel’s weary head. Though it pained him dearly to reject a good night’s sleep, especially one so needed, he lit some tallow candles beside him, took out a dusty tome from the bedside table and began to read into the midnight, the looming anxiety of tomorrow’s trial pressing constantly on his mind.

Half an hour passed, then an hour, and his concentration became weaker and weaker, like all the willpower had been sapped from him. As the lines began to merge and the words began to falter under his gaze, he felt his eyelids drooping and before he knew it, Nathaniel’s world was plunged into dreamy darkness. And for a blissful moment, all the troubles and cares that he possessed dissolved into nothing…

***

Nathaniel woke abruptly, to the sound of a dreadful bird cawing. He yawned irritably, annoyed at being woken in such a sudden and rude manner, screwing up his face against the light that streamed in from the oval window above his bed. Outside it he saw the pesky Raven again, shouting its existence to the rest of Cyrodiil with not a care in the world.

Feeling something weighty on his lap, he looked down, surprised to find an opened book resting on top of his quilt. A few idyllic moments passed before he realised what day it was and why the book was there, and like a dam being opened, all the angst and fear of the imminent examinations flooded back to him, weighing him down with sudden dread. Desperately he looked to his bedside table and his ticking clock.

He was almost late.

Growling at his own bad luck he threw off the bedsheets, pulling on his clothes in such a hurry he barely knew what he’d put on. He cleared the table, frantically searching for a comb to smooth his ruffled hair, though he snarled once again as he knocked the leftover wax from the candles lit last night onto his newly changed shirt.

Deciding he had no time whatsoever to dawdle, he ignored the wax stain and donned a brown blazer jacket, hoping it would cover it up enough for him to get away with it. Thrusting his feet into his shoes and burrowing his ankles into them furiously until they went over his heels, he grabbed his tome at the page he’d left it and made his way downstairs to the common room, still tying his tie on whilst trying to read through the last pages of his book.

Downstairs in the common room he was met by a scene of utter chaos.

Students everywhere were busy preparing themselves for the examinations, the common room filled to the brim with bustling pupils and vigorous activity, the raucous so loud Nathaniel was duly surprised he hadn’t been woken up before by the incredible din. Associates inhabited every corner and space available, catching up on last minute revision, drowned by multitudes of scrolls and papers and manuscripts, others trying to make themselves look presentable, admiring themselves by the various mirrors in their smartest attire, clean white doublets or blouses and dark grey trousers, with long ashen-grey socks and mirror-black glossy shoes.

Every so often gasps and exclamations of wonder would arise when a student released some particularly complex spell into the air to show what they had prepared for the judges. Meanwhile, heated discussions were taking places in large groups that had congregated round the swarming room, conferring revision tactics and last minute tips, or just general excited buzz about the examinations.

It was all a bit overwhelming for Nathaniel. To see everyone so excitable and animated for the examinations just made Nathaniel even more nervous. He knew that in a single cohesive sense everyone was expecting everyone to pass.

Every student had made a generous effort to look their best for the examination day. Hair was slicked back and shined to an oily gleam, whilst the girl students had put on their best dresses and even small pieces of jewellery to make themselves look extra pretty for the big day.

Nathaniel looked down at his drab jacket, his wax-stained shirt and wrinkled trousers and sighed glumly. He descended the stairs amidst the tempestuous bedlam and settled himself into a corner, trying to read his revision in book in peace as students around him buzzed and hummed with uncontainable excitement. To any sane person that walked in it would seem the associates had already passed their exams and were already celebrating, thought Nathaniel, casting an eye through the crowd.

It caught Patrickus Grinlime’s, who was sitting amidst a throng of gabbling and admiring girls, looking delightfully smug and arrogant as they offered him good luck charms and various praises to him. He looked the best presented and well-dressed out of everyone, with his perfectly fastened tie, and stitched leather shoes that were almost a shiny as his oiled hair, which shone like glass amidst the rabble of other students.

He sneered at Nathaniel distastefully, curling his upper lip as if looking upon a beggar before turning to one of the girls and whispered something in her ear, at which she began giggling hysterically.

Hatred welled up inside Nathaniel like a volcano, and deep inside him he felt his stomach coil in anger like a clenching fist. He shot Patrickus a murderous glare and gripped his book so tightly his knuckles went white, threatening to tear right through the thick leather binding. It was even more infuriating for Nathaniel when Patrickus outright ignored his challenging stare and returned to his mob of fans.

Rage still boiling inside him, Nathaniel tried to subdue it, knowing he had bigger problems and he couldn’t let his concentration wane because of a petty feud – he had revision to do. Grumbling to himself and muttering unrepeatable curses under his breath, Nathaniel retreated to his corner, turning his back to the hubbub in the common room and reading silently through his book again, determined to pass and then rub Patrickus’ snooty face in it once he did.

Suddenly there was a hard, sharp knock at the door, loud enough so that it could be heard clearly above the terrible racket created by the mayhem within the common room. Like a candle snuffed out in the wind the noise inside ceased immediately, and an irrepressible silence enveloped the chamber.

Nathaniel stopped reading his book and turned to face the oaken door, his breath caught in his throat. Even Patrickus Grinlime halted in his lavish preening and snapped his gaze around in the direction of everybody else’s, his proud, overconfident expression now replaced by one of fear and anxiety. Despite the looks of shock, like one unified mind, every student in the room knew what was about to happen.

It was time.

The heavy door opened with surprising force despite its age-old hinges, and before it had even stopped moving in stepped a trio of Evokers, the exam’s invigilators. They were resplendent in their blue mage robes as they strode inside; their faces strong and square-jawed with a steely look of determination and wizened experience. To the awe-struck associate students, these were god-like in status. Every pupil at the university aspired to be one, every pupil wanted to succeed as a student and become a fully-fledged mage.

The prospect that one day they could earn the right to wear those same robes seemed to stun the students into silence, and when the foremost Evoker began to speak not a move was made throughout the entire crowd. His voice was resolute and without conviction.

“Good morning students. As you well know, your apprentice-level examination begins today. You have been given enough time to practice, so if you would now kindly follow my colleagues here to your respective subjects tests and they shall sit you in your correct order for the exams. Focus, believe in yourselves, and you shall all be great mages one day. Good luck to you all.”

With that, the Evoker gave a short, controlled smile and left through the oak door, leaving his associates to step forward.

Nathaniel waited patiently. One by one, the subject exams were called out, and groups left with the different Evokers. Destruction went, Conjuration, Illusion and Alchemy, then Alteration. All the while, the apprehension and dread of the situation threatened to make Nathaniel black out, yet he remained steadfast, determined not to show any weakness.

Finally, his subject was called.

“All students currently taking Mysticism, please stand up and form single file behind me.” One of the Evokers called, an Imperial woman with an impassive face standing at the front. She held out an arm to indicate where the line should form. Nathaniel hurriedly gathered himself, leaving his book on the floor and scrambling to his place in the line, biting back the brain-addling nausea that suddenly rushed to his head with the nerves.

It was to Nathaniel's sheer annoyance that he ended up in front of Patrickus Grinlime, but he ignored it, instead concentrating on the female Evoker’s every word.

“Right. Students, follow me. Your exam is awaiting you.”

She turned briskly on her heel and exited the common room, the procession of students marching out behind her onto university plaza. Outside, the midday sun was shining dazzlingly bright in the cloudless blue sky. Nathaniel took it as a good omen.

He would need it.

This post has been edited by Illydoor: May 4 2009, 01:59 AM