{Rivvil} Aftermath

[Vanité]

The last months in Rivvil had been riddled with death and misery. Like every other place on the world they had been assaulted by the darkness and the light of the Other Side. The attack had been so great that the defenses of the city had not been fool-proof. However, due to their diligence since the first attack of Shades, the city had come off much better than it would. Even with their defenses, the city was half-in ruin an many of the most prominet magi within the community were dead. In fact, more than half the ruling council of Rivvil, the Kementari, had been slain. All that remained, other than Antara herself, was the ever-absent Melisande, and the mysterious Minerva.

Antara's deep blue eyes looked out of the window of her office, looking at the city. Some of the rebuilding had started just that morning, since she and Minerva decided nothing would be done until funerals could be held for all the dead. This also gave Antara time to study what happened without having to deal with so much administrative issues. Time to do that, as well as accrue what happened to the rest of the world, would be lessened now that she had decided to begin rebuilding Rivvil. Normally she had the council to govern the beuacracy of the city, however Minerva had left just after the funeral held for Councillor Tyrnin, and Melisande still had not returned. This would leave everything to her.

Still, she was one of the eldest living beings on the earth, a former contemporary of Selena the Wise, and her organization. Thus she knew that if she was to assess what she could do to figure out what had happened and what might happen because of it, she would have to get into contact with them. About an hour before she had sent a message to two of her foremost wizards to meet her in the Kementari Tower.

The High Councillor rose from her chair and moved to her door, walking up the stairs to the council chamber, where she and her now dead or missing colleagues had sat merely months before, debating on laws of the city, on threats of the world, on how they might begin to become more active in world politics. As she entered the chamber a sadness swept over her. Being immortal and having witnessed thousands of deaths, one might think she had grown cold to the event, but that was not so. These people had been her friends, and many of them had been on the council for decades and some even centuries. Still however, she would remain stead-fast, as she always had done, no matter how great a tragedy had occured.

She composed herself however, taking her seat within her high-backed chair, watching the door, waiting for her emissaries to arrive.

[Paroxysm]

“Kial!”

The tavern grew quiet and tension filled the air, the patrons had already witnessed what happened when this particular person got angry, displeased, and generally upset. They had enlisted her help against a troublesome pest, an ogre of a man who thought himself the bandit king of the region, who had taken to kidnapping and assaulting various people of the community, however; before they could actually point the man out, the woman had turned him into a frog because he did not do well to please her senses. Obviously, they did not wish to see her grow too angry, some of them had even made a mad rush to the door, leaving the tavern in fright; others stubbornly sipped their drinks and pretended nothing was happening.

The woman slammed her hands onto the bar’s top, pushing the stool away from her body as she stood up, she wore clothing fashioned out of magic, given life by word, the dress was crimson, but darkened into a black at her arms and down the length of her legs; yet if enough attention was paid to the material, it would twist, and appear as though the colors bled into each other in an eerie sort of way.

“Kial mosto mi? Miaj laŭle~gend~ajn ĉu ne la mia!”

Her tone was full of anger and spite, she had half the nerve to tell the messenger off, but she didn’t; she at least knew better. She wouldn’t have been called back to Rivvil if it wasn’t important, if she wasn’t needed, and if it was important, then she would have to forgive the interruption of her personal quest.

“Bone, bone! Okej! I’ll go, I’ll go.”

Eyes lit aflame, a violet aura wrapping itself around her body, she mouthed a single word, her eyes flickered, and she mouthed another. This was her magic, magic that only she could use, or at least; she was the only one known to use it. Many could use it to an extent, but not quite to the degree that she could take it. She could do things with this magic that would leave many a mage slack jawed in awe, but she didn’t boast about--often.

“Pordego~”

Her last word would instantly bring her to Rivvil; it was the main ingredient of the “spell,” after all. The two words that had been inaudibly spoken prior to ‘pordego’ had been the destination, Rivvil, and an anchor--Antara. So, after Pordego had been spoken, a gateway opened around the woman, this Renata Aldaine, and she was instantly brought within a few feet of Antara, who had apparent need of the young woman’s presence.

“You called, yes?”

She announced her presence, she was often considered eccentric, full of flare, and she did things in her own way--but she was useful and quite powerful, combined with possessing a somewhat noble soul, there wasn’t much to hate about the woman, disregarding her personality, of course.