{Two Stick} My People
Jan. 30th, 2011 12:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wayfarers_lodgeTwo-Stick-Lightning was reasonably sure that the invitation to lecture at the University was a trap, one designed to pander to her ego, to draw her into the world of the River people and win her over. But she could not turn away from this invitation, any more than she could deny the lightning beneath her skin, that was devouring her moment by moment. They had chosen their trap well.
She walked through the gates, past students and lecturers, who's eyes widened with surprise her and her entourage- even in disguise, they were clearly apart from Empire culture, and the scent of ozone and rain around her was not something that could be ignored by the observant academics. She smiled a small, satisfied smile to herself as she reached the open-air lecture theatre. These people knew what she was, if not who, and understood the dedication it had taken to get there.
She looked up at the people gathered as she rounded the stands, and her step faltered for a moment. There were easily a hundred people here, more than the population of her home village. A hundred people, who had come to hear her speak on the more practical points of her magic.
What better way to present her thoughts to the world?
Two Stick brought her hands together sharply, and looked up at them.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! My name is Gracious Paws of Sugar Glider-" she said, hoping no-one noticed the slight pause before the false name, "-before you begin, do you have any questions?"
The students looked at one another, clearly puzzled, and she saw the Dean of Evocation nudge another robed man with a grin, as one of the students slowly raised his hand.
"Er, yes... you... weren't born here. How... did you know what you were doing? What books did you read? How did you learn?"
She looked at him, confused.
"The... whole world is made of magic. All you have to do is understand it."
The boy's frown deepened, so she sighed and tried again.
"Let me put it this way- how did the people who wrote the books you learn from learn about magic?"
He opened his mouth as if to reply, then paused, and she knew she had him.
"As for the depth of what I know-" Her hand twisted with a complex gesture and flung backwards, and several of the targets lined up along the sand exploded as lightning arched from her fingers towards them, then leaped from those ruins to other targets, scorching them deeply. Most of the students jumped, while the others took to jotting down notes furiously.
The lesson continued, as much for her as it did for her students, and with every new lesson, her respect for the University and its influence on the Empire grew. To her surprise, she discovered that using magic to dominate the will of another or to trap the souls of the dead was not only considered highly immoral, but was against the law. Inwardly, she sneered at the servants of the River temple, who had used both against her and her people, but outwardly, she continued to discuss her Five-Elements theory, and the practical application of different energy signatures in the world of the adventurer.
As she spoke, her skin prickled with the magic around her, but there was something here that ran deeper- there. In the midst of the clamour of weak magical auras, one of the younger wizards shone with knowledge far beyond her own... some of which were Illusion spells.
Guys, she muttered to her friends, We have a very real problem here.
She carefully told them what she knew, as she paused for another round of questions, and they agreed that there was only one person that the young man could be.
"Gracious Paws," asked one of her students, "We have noticed that, with the understanding that we have, the spells that we know are little more effective than punching someone in the nose. Where... how do we defend ourselves? When does this start to pay off?"
Two Stick smiled sadly as the other students nodded, fists clenched around books and companions and each other, a shared pain filling the lecture space.
"We are not predisposed to a strength of arm or a particular ability to shrug off illness. I'm sure you've all had times where you've been afraid that a particularly strong sneeze would break you?" She waited for the chuckles and nods to die down. "We are not the people who call us bookworms, freaks, weaklings. Do you know what else you are not? You're not alone. I was bullied for a hundred and twenty years before I was strong enough to do something about it, but that is because I was alone. We may disagree, we may not share the same outlook, but I would not let anyone treat a legitimate Necromancer or Enchanter the way I was treated. Look around you, every single person in this room knows what this is like. I see the Dean of Evocation up there, and what I assume are the Deans of Divination and Alteration. I imagine that even the Archmage knows what this is like. You don't have to stand by yourself."
She looked up to the young man she had been watching, and saw his eyes narrow at the mention of the Archmage, but she couldn't stop speaking to drive the point home, not now.
"Do you know what else we are not? We're not powerless on our own. You can only deliver a punch of power now, but those punches grow stronger and stronger with every tier of spells we master. They may strike now with fists, but the bulk of their power lies in words, in having other people believe that their behaviour is normal, acceptable, even laudable."
She murmured a spell, curling her hands into fists as lightning manifested into a moving ball. She pointed, and it slammed into one of the remaining targets, obliterating it. It danced at her direction, and every eye in the room watched it return to her hand and dwindle to nothing under her touch.
"Using this spell, I once killed three men in six seconds. These are the words that will defend us. Lightning Bolt. Hyena's Strength. Scorching Ray. And one of my personal favourites, I prepared Explosive Runes this morning."
The students laughed at the joke, relieved to find a break in the serious tone of the lecture, but her eyes were on the young man, and the smile that they shared between them was theirs alone.
"There are other spells and tricks of magic that we can use, as well. Counterfire. Electric Vengeance. Contingency spells. Some of these are available to us from the time that we understand our first tier of magic. Others take time. Thus we are not defenseless."
"I'll tell you what we are, though. We are patient. We are relentless. And we are largely just. Time is on our side, and they will tire of us eventually... until we are ready to show them their error
"And that is the other reason why we have one another. We cannot, MUST not be like those who would hurt us. The greatest of fighters may kill half a dozen men in one sweep of his blade, one leap and cleave. I can kill a dozen with a thought. So can the Dean up there. How many more will I be able to kill with a thought tomorrow, or next week? Another dozen? A hundred? How many can the Archmage kill? We MUST NOT allow ourselves these petty self-indulgences beyond what is neccesary for teaching, because where will we draw the line? Once we start, how will we know when to stop? We are better than that, much better, and if we want a world where out knowledge is valued and respected as the strength of a warrior's arm, we cannot make ourselves hated and feared. So we have one another, to stop ourselves, to check our motives, and to move together, because no one can understand a Mystic like other Mystics do. There is us."
The room was silent for a long, heavy moment. Then the Dean of Evocation rose and started applauding. Handfuls of students across the ampitheatre joined him, and soon they were all standing, cheering what had always been so apparent to her.
Two-Stick-Lightning looked up at them, eyes alight, chest heaving slightly with the exertion of speaking so passionately, struck silent by the sudden realisation that these were just like her. For so long, she had wanted, needed to know that there were folk who wanted to know for knowledge's sake, who could hold their own in a debate against her, who could encourage her to think in new ways, and in this place that stank like Hell and buzzed like a hornet's nest, she had found them. These were her people, and this place was her home.
She cleared her throat as they finally fell silent, hoping that her voice still worked.
"I think that's all we have time for today. I want you all to think about something for me. We are aware of what Evocation magic can do. I want you to consider what it can't do, what we must learn from outside. Hopefully I will be here again some day soon, and we can discuss it then."
The students filed out, most stopping to exchange a few words or ask a question, or just to say that had been in the presence of their visitor. She spoke quietly to each of them, taking their conversation with her seriously, until there was only her and the powerful young man left.
He approached cautiously, hands firmly behind his back.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, with no bite in her voice, "Put those out where I can see them."
He spread his hands out before him and smiled. He was the very portrait of teenaged innocence, which she might have bought into, if she hadn't have known that he could, and would, turn her into a pile of dust and water vapour without a second thought.
"You are as brilliant as they say."
"So are you, Archmage." She replied, eyes not leaving him.
"I had hoped to meet you like this. Before the inevitable happened."
"And I you." She paused. "It doesn't have to be like this, you know."
"I know. We can offer you so much. You could lecture here. Be hailed as the genius that you are."
"And lose it all in three years time? No. I'd rather not. I'd rather stand and die, than sit by and do nothing."
Ki-Re-Talen shrugged, looking vaguely disappointed, as if she had turned down a chance to work with him. Which, in a sense, she had. Discomforted by the feeling of loss, Two Stick tried to change the subject.
"The Little Mother would be pleased to have you."
Kirrit scrambled out of his pouch, and looked up at the Archmage with an expression of earnest excitement. Ki-Re-Talen smiled sadly, and reached to pet the little sugar glider slowly, his movements unthreatening.
"I know she would." He murmured, and Two Stick found herself in uncertain waters again. But this time, it was him that changed the subject.
"You aren't very subtle."
"It's never been my strong point, no," she replied, her stomach sinking. "They know we're here?"
"We know you're here." He confirmed, stressing the first word slightly.
"You're not one of them. You're better than them. You deserve better than this."
The Archmage smiled again. "I hope I get to see you like this again, Two Stick Lighting."
"And I hope we get to see you again, too." She murmured, stuffing her notes back into her bags carelessly, the paranoia of being face to face with her enemy- and even worse, her better- finally kicking in.
Chaosti joined her after leaving the University grounds, and the others followed suit.
"So what happened?"
"We are in some very serious trouble right now. We have to get out of here."
"We knew that coming into the Empire, Two Stick."
"No, it's worse. He's just like me. Except better. And on their side." She exhaled forcefully, lengthening her stride. "Anything that the Chosen One can bring to bear on us, you can match, or Great Wolf can negate it. Most of Ilka-re-shanen's power is in his power over people, and we already know about that so it's nominal at best. Ki-Re-Talen's power is all his own. It stops being about his totem the second he puts spells down on paper, and he is BETTER at magic than me. I can't stop him. Out of all of them, I can't stop him."
She lowered her voice as they approached the ferry station, her voice still fierce in its intensity
"On top of that, he is also just like me in that he can examine almost any situation subjectively, which means he must be serving a totem that will destroy him and all the learning that he loves out of some form of belief. Logic can't stop that."
"And worst of all, they already know we're here. Me coming here wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know. They've probably known since we entered the city proper. Every moment more we spend here is another moment they have to refine the final trap, and if they take us, our people are doomed."
Chaosti raised an eyebrow.
"Our people?"
"Yes. These are my people. This is where I should have been born, where Star Catcher should have taught me, where the Little Mother should have found me. And they're Ki-Re-Talen's people, too. Which makes it even worse that he'll let the River kill them all."
Chaosti nodded, and Two Stick was satisfied that he understood, because he always had.
Unable to face the long boat ride back to their lodgings, she changed herself into an Air Elemental, and launched herself into the sky. Even from above, the River was huge, and even more frightening now that she understood the people that would fight for it, and the things that were at stake.
She walked through the gates, past students and lecturers, who's eyes widened with surprise her and her entourage- even in disguise, they were clearly apart from Empire culture, and the scent of ozone and rain around her was not something that could be ignored by the observant academics. She smiled a small, satisfied smile to herself as she reached the open-air lecture theatre. These people knew what she was, if not who, and understood the dedication it had taken to get there.
She looked up at the people gathered as she rounded the stands, and her step faltered for a moment. There were easily a hundred people here, more than the population of her home village. A hundred people, who had come to hear her speak on the more practical points of her magic.
What better way to present her thoughts to the world?
Two Stick brought her hands together sharply, and looked up at them.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! My name is Gracious Paws of Sugar Glider-" she said, hoping no-one noticed the slight pause before the false name, "-before you begin, do you have any questions?"
The students looked at one another, clearly puzzled, and she saw the Dean of Evocation nudge another robed man with a grin, as one of the students slowly raised his hand.
"Er, yes... you... weren't born here. How... did you know what you were doing? What books did you read? How did you learn?"
She looked at him, confused.
"The... whole world is made of magic. All you have to do is understand it."
The boy's frown deepened, so she sighed and tried again.
"Let me put it this way- how did the people who wrote the books you learn from learn about magic?"
He opened his mouth as if to reply, then paused, and she knew she had him.
"As for the depth of what I know-" Her hand twisted with a complex gesture and flung backwards, and several of the targets lined up along the sand exploded as lightning arched from her fingers towards them, then leaped from those ruins to other targets, scorching them deeply. Most of the students jumped, while the others took to jotting down notes furiously.
The lesson continued, as much for her as it did for her students, and with every new lesson, her respect for the University and its influence on the Empire grew. To her surprise, she discovered that using magic to dominate the will of another or to trap the souls of the dead was not only considered highly immoral, but was against the law. Inwardly, she sneered at the servants of the River temple, who had used both against her and her people, but outwardly, she continued to discuss her Five-Elements theory, and the practical application of different energy signatures in the world of the adventurer.
As she spoke, her skin prickled with the magic around her, but there was something here that ran deeper- there. In the midst of the clamour of weak magical auras, one of the younger wizards shone with knowledge far beyond her own... some of which were Illusion spells.
Guys, she muttered to her friends, We have a very real problem here.
She carefully told them what she knew, as she paused for another round of questions, and they agreed that there was only one person that the young man could be.
"Gracious Paws," asked one of her students, "We have noticed that, with the understanding that we have, the spells that we know are little more effective than punching someone in the nose. Where... how do we defend ourselves? When does this start to pay off?"
Two Stick smiled sadly as the other students nodded, fists clenched around books and companions and each other, a shared pain filling the lecture space.
"We are not predisposed to a strength of arm or a particular ability to shrug off illness. I'm sure you've all had times where you've been afraid that a particularly strong sneeze would break you?" She waited for the chuckles and nods to die down. "We are not the people who call us bookworms, freaks, weaklings. Do you know what else you are not? You're not alone. I was bullied for a hundred and twenty years before I was strong enough to do something about it, but that is because I was alone. We may disagree, we may not share the same outlook, but I would not let anyone treat a legitimate Necromancer or Enchanter the way I was treated. Look around you, every single person in this room knows what this is like. I see the Dean of Evocation up there, and what I assume are the Deans of Divination and Alteration. I imagine that even the Archmage knows what this is like. You don't have to stand by yourself."
She looked up to the young man she had been watching, and saw his eyes narrow at the mention of the Archmage, but she couldn't stop speaking to drive the point home, not now.
"Do you know what else we are not? We're not powerless on our own. You can only deliver a punch of power now, but those punches grow stronger and stronger with every tier of spells we master. They may strike now with fists, but the bulk of their power lies in words, in having other people believe that their behaviour is normal, acceptable, even laudable."
She murmured a spell, curling her hands into fists as lightning manifested into a moving ball. She pointed, and it slammed into one of the remaining targets, obliterating it. It danced at her direction, and every eye in the room watched it return to her hand and dwindle to nothing under her touch.
"Using this spell, I once killed three men in six seconds. These are the words that will defend us. Lightning Bolt. Hyena's Strength. Scorching Ray. And one of my personal favourites, I prepared Explosive Runes this morning."
The students laughed at the joke, relieved to find a break in the serious tone of the lecture, but her eyes were on the young man, and the smile that they shared between them was theirs alone.
"There are other spells and tricks of magic that we can use, as well. Counterfire. Electric Vengeance. Contingency spells. Some of these are available to us from the time that we understand our first tier of magic. Others take time. Thus we are not defenseless."
"I'll tell you what we are, though. We are patient. We are relentless. And we are largely just. Time is on our side, and they will tire of us eventually... until we are ready to show them their error
"And that is the other reason why we have one another. We cannot, MUST not be like those who would hurt us. The greatest of fighters may kill half a dozen men in one sweep of his blade, one leap and cleave. I can kill a dozen with a thought. So can the Dean up there. How many more will I be able to kill with a thought tomorrow, or next week? Another dozen? A hundred? How many can the Archmage kill? We MUST NOT allow ourselves these petty self-indulgences beyond what is neccesary for teaching, because where will we draw the line? Once we start, how will we know when to stop? We are better than that, much better, and if we want a world where out knowledge is valued and respected as the strength of a warrior's arm, we cannot make ourselves hated and feared. So we have one another, to stop ourselves, to check our motives, and to move together, because no one can understand a Mystic like other Mystics do. There is us."
The room was silent for a long, heavy moment. Then the Dean of Evocation rose and started applauding. Handfuls of students across the ampitheatre joined him, and soon they were all standing, cheering what had always been so apparent to her.
Two-Stick-Lightning looked up at them, eyes alight, chest heaving slightly with the exertion of speaking so passionately, struck silent by the sudden realisation that these were just like her. For so long, she had wanted, needed to know that there were folk who wanted to know for knowledge's sake, who could hold their own in a debate against her, who could encourage her to think in new ways, and in this place that stank like Hell and buzzed like a hornet's nest, she had found them. These were her people, and this place was her home.
She cleared her throat as they finally fell silent, hoping that her voice still worked.
"I think that's all we have time for today. I want you all to think about something for me. We are aware of what Evocation magic can do. I want you to consider what it can't do, what we must learn from outside. Hopefully I will be here again some day soon, and we can discuss it then."
The students filed out, most stopping to exchange a few words or ask a question, or just to say that had been in the presence of their visitor. She spoke quietly to each of them, taking their conversation with her seriously, until there was only her and the powerful young man left.
He approached cautiously, hands firmly behind his back.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, with no bite in her voice, "Put those out where I can see them."
He spread his hands out before him and smiled. He was the very portrait of teenaged innocence, which she might have bought into, if she hadn't have known that he could, and would, turn her into a pile of dust and water vapour without a second thought.
"You are as brilliant as they say."
"So are you, Archmage." She replied, eyes not leaving him.
"I had hoped to meet you like this. Before the inevitable happened."
"And I you." She paused. "It doesn't have to be like this, you know."
"I know. We can offer you so much. You could lecture here. Be hailed as the genius that you are."
"And lose it all in three years time? No. I'd rather not. I'd rather stand and die, than sit by and do nothing."
Ki-Re-Talen shrugged, looking vaguely disappointed, as if she had turned down a chance to work with him. Which, in a sense, she had. Discomforted by the feeling of loss, Two Stick tried to change the subject.
"The Little Mother would be pleased to have you."
Kirrit scrambled out of his pouch, and looked up at the Archmage with an expression of earnest excitement. Ki-Re-Talen smiled sadly, and reached to pet the little sugar glider slowly, his movements unthreatening.
"I know she would." He murmured, and Two Stick found herself in uncertain waters again. But this time, it was him that changed the subject.
"You aren't very subtle."
"It's never been my strong point, no," she replied, her stomach sinking. "They know we're here?"
"We know you're here." He confirmed, stressing the first word slightly.
"You're not one of them. You're better than them. You deserve better than this."
The Archmage smiled again. "I hope I get to see you like this again, Two Stick Lighting."
"And I hope we get to see you again, too." She murmured, stuffing her notes back into her bags carelessly, the paranoia of being face to face with her enemy- and even worse, her better- finally kicking in.
Chaosti joined her after leaving the University grounds, and the others followed suit.
"So what happened?"
"We are in some very serious trouble right now. We have to get out of here."
"We knew that coming into the Empire, Two Stick."
"No, it's worse. He's just like me. Except better. And on their side." She exhaled forcefully, lengthening her stride. "Anything that the Chosen One can bring to bear on us, you can match, or Great Wolf can negate it. Most of Ilka-re-shanen's power is in his power over people, and we already know about that so it's nominal at best. Ki-Re-Talen's power is all his own. It stops being about his totem the second he puts spells down on paper, and he is BETTER at magic than me. I can't stop him. Out of all of them, I can't stop him."
She lowered her voice as they approached the ferry station, her voice still fierce in its intensity
"On top of that, he is also just like me in that he can examine almost any situation subjectively, which means he must be serving a totem that will destroy him and all the learning that he loves out of some form of belief. Logic can't stop that."
"And worst of all, they already know we're here. Me coming here wasn't telling them anything they didn't already know. They've probably known since we entered the city proper. Every moment more we spend here is another moment they have to refine the final trap, and if they take us, our people are doomed."
Chaosti raised an eyebrow.
"Our people?"
"Yes. These are my people. This is where I should have been born, where Star Catcher should have taught me, where the Little Mother should have found me. And they're Ki-Re-Talen's people, too. Which makes it even worse that he'll let the River kill them all."
Chaosti nodded, and Two Stick was satisfied that he understood, because he always had.
Unable to face the long boat ride back to their lodgings, she changed herself into an Air Elemental, and launched herself into the sky. Even from above, the River was huge, and even more frightening now that she understood the people that would fight for it, and the things that were at stake.
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Date: 2011-01-30 11:05 am (UTC)I do love Two Stick. :)