Author’s Note: For those of you who missed part one, I recommend going back and giving it a read! There will be some spoilers up ahead and I wouldn’t want that for you. Otherwise, let’s keep going!
Your Choices From Part One Define You, Your Fate Has Been Decided:
If you chose A you are The Clandestine Mystic
If you chose B you are The Arcane Strategist
If you chose C you are The Veil Breaker
If you chose D you are The Runic Enchantress
The Story Goes On
Your magic begins to rise. The dark stone’s white veins flicker to life. Before the Paladins can leave, they pause in the doorway, and you fear this might be the moment they decide you’re too dangerous to keep alive.
One of them steps out into the hallway, the other lingering at the door. There’s an exchange of words, their voices too low to make out the details and as your heart rate quickens so do the marbled veins of your prison cell walls. The Spire is reacting to you, to your magic.
The Paladin at the door steps aside, giving you view of an unfamiliar man draped in burgundy vestments with gold silk trim and pieces of armor that are not as elaborate as the guards’.
His attention sweeps your figure, taking you in before flicking a finger for you to follow. His tone is cold, void of hope, “Come this way.”
You step past the towering Paladins on either side of the door to follow the stranger down the dimly lit hallway. You’re escorted once more up spiral stairs, the Spire more of a maze with every step. The higher you climb the warmer the air becomes, stifling hot and oppressive, sweat lacing your skin.
You look back over your shoulder, mesmerized by the golden glow of light pulsing along the Spire’s walls. The energy is following you, responding to your presence. And it reminds you oddly of the way sunbeams filter through the canopies of trees near your home, comforting in a strange way.
You reach the landing where a Paladin is waiting. He opens the door to a large circular room, stranger leading the way inside. The space is void of windows and if it weren’t for the sconces along the wall, it would be pitch black. In the center of the room there is an ashy white sigil burned into the dark sunstone.
“It’s a testing ward,” the stranger informs, eyeing the Paladin at the door. The sentinel shows us no interest and when the stranger steps closer, the hair on the back of your neck rises. He looks almost tempted to confess something but he steps past you for the door.
The moment it slams shut, the sigil ignites, revealing mirrors have been mounted along the circular walls. The gentle beams of sunlight from earlier are now a raging wildfire. The lightning leaps out of the floor. It coils around your legs and up around your waist.
Something calls out to your magic.
If you are The Clandestine Mystic
You force your magic down. Every instinct in you is begging you to fight but you resist. Just as you have done nearly your whole life, you suppress the power inside of you. You make yourself smaller, normal.
The sigils weakens before burning brighter again, the power scorching and pulling at the magic inside of you. You resist, gritting your teeth as you try to think of simpler things in life, normal everyday activities like sweeping the floor and tending to the hearth.
Strange lights swirl between the mirrors, circling the room as if they are hunting for something.
“Well,” you hear the Paladin outside asking, “What’s the verdict so far?”
“Nearly void of magic,” the stranger retorts.
Your heart flutters, delighted and yet still afraid. In the mirror, your eyes are glowing and veins of lightning are still etched into your skin. Even if they don’t feel your power, something in the Spire does. Something knows the truth.
If you are The Arcane Strategist
You don’t resist. There’s no hiding, there’s fighting. You are observing.
As the light sparks out of the sigil and climbs your form, you study the pattern. You admire the way it spirals around your figure as gently as vines climbing a trellis. You take in its rhythm as its energies pulses with your own magic.
It’s siphoning, pulling at your magic, testing the limits of your power.
You cleverly feed it just enough of your magic to satisfy it’s curiosity.
Beams of energy move from mirror to mirror, satisfied by what it has learned about you. The sigil’s light softens, beating as gentle as a heartbeat.
The Paladin grumbles something, “Well? What’s the verdict in there?”
“Strong,” the stranger retorts. “But her magic is stable. She’s not a threat.”
Not a threat? Yes, that’s exactly what you want them to think.
If you are The Veil Breaker
You let your power rise up through you. If they want to test your powers then you’ll give them the greatest spectacle they’ve ever seen.
The oppressive heat from earlier burns inside your bones, ripping its way out of your body and into the room. Every mirror cracks and shatters to the floor. The sigil burns blindingly white and you’re forced to close your eyes.
But you don’t relent. You stand your ground, letting the energy ride across you as the chamber’s walls begin to shake.
There’s shouting outside the door.
You pry your eyes open just enough to see the gold veins of light in the brick shift to sheer white as the Spire’s energy tries to adapt. Whatever it is, it’s learning, assessing, and perhaps it’s fighting back.
If you are The Runic Enchantress
You barely notice the beams of energy bouncing from one mirror to the next.
Because the stranger is still in the room. You can see him standing behind you in the mirror, watching through smoldering eyes.
The sigil burns bright as your heart rate quickens.
His gaze moves, following the light as it sparks across your legs and up your waist.
His voice is softer, warmer now that the Paladins aren’t around, “Don’t fight it.”
The dark walls of the Spire flicker with gold at the same time as his eyes brighten in a glowing gold hue. Your power reacts. It flares to life in rhythm to his power, to the lights circling the room through the mirrors.
“Embrace it. Embrace what you are.”
You allow it, throwing back your head as the power in the room sweeps across you.
The room goes dark, even the sconces on the wall are snuffed out.
The door opens and the Paladin steps inside. The air feels different, stranger than it was before, and you can’t decide if he’s keeping his distance or not. Because he doesn’t approach. He only informs, “Your assessment is under review.”
The stranger’s attention settles on you, something flickering in his gaze that makes you feel entirely exposed. “She will come with me to the undercroft.”
The Paladin’s expression, what little you can see, twists with anger. He looks ready to argue but quickly clamps his lips and averts his attention.
He turns and heads down the spiral stairs and you follow him past the hard glare of the onlooking guard. As you move to the lower levels of the Spire, his steps slow. He speaks quietly over his shoulder, “You must make a choice. Choose wisely.”
A.) Learn the rules of those who train in the undercroft.
B.) Ask him who he is and if the Spire reacts to all magic.
C.) Reach for your magic again, consequences be damned.
D.) Grab his hand, ignoring the sparks of magic that crackle at your touch.
***
Thank you everyone for reading! Comment your choice below and share your thoughts! I love getting feedback and hearing what others think.
(Ghibli fans may have noticed a small, tiny tip of my hat towards a certain scene in a certain movie. I couldn’t resist!)
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