Malia Vask, Savant of the Azure Spire

Savant Malia Vask

Most stories of abandoned children start with stormy nights and small bundles of cloth emitting soft crying sounds, trying to survive the stinging cold until some kind or evil soul finds them and takes them in. This isn't one of those stories. Malia, as her adopted mother had named her, was wanted.
Lady Gellantra Vask was a minor noble of the Azureview who had lost her husband to disease and still held his lands but sadly had not been able to produce an heir. Stricken with grief she had vowed not to marry again in memory of her late husband. The years went on and she became known as a solemn woman, caring for those in her household and often championing charitable work for the poor and poorly. But with that charity came loneliness and sadness for all those who she was helping. She often spent time with other noblewomen who urged her to find a new companion and forget the vow she made but that wasn't an option. It took the Lady Gridelm, an older noblewoman who was often seen as a matriarchal figure in the noble circles of Markaryd to convince her to at least adopt a child and find some focus in her life through the love and care of a young life.
And so, on a hot summer day, filled with the smells of fresh bread and cooking meats, Gellantra made her way to Markaryd's orphanage. Soon the sound of children playing reached her and not long after she found herself in front of Mother Calay's Children's orphanage. It wasn't often, or usual for a noble lady, even one of such low standing as Lady Vask to come near an orphanage, let alone think about adopting a child. What meagre staff the establishment had all tried their best to show some semblance of manners, which made Gellantra laugh. The talk with the matron was, unexpected. Mother Calay wasn't concerned with Gellantra being a noble or with the child's heritage. The only thing that mattered to her was the match. After hearing the whole story the matron sat there in silence, a silence that took a bit longer than was comfortable.
"Follow me please, Lady Vask." was what broke that silence.
The two women made their way through the cramped halls of the orphanage to the courtyard. The sun was still out in full force and the children were making the most of it. About a dozen kids of different ages, races and genders were engaged in a variety of games. Two girls, one of which looked a bit like a Half-ling but it was hard to tell at that age, were trying their hardest to mimic the ribbon dancers that had passed through tow not three days earlier, but the grace and experience escaped them. The boys, most of them older, were chasing an enchanted ball that seemed to glow whenever caught, and give off a small shock whenever it managed to avoid one of the kids. Two nurses were taking care of four infants still in their cribs and the only odd one out was a toddler. A girl with flame like hair, barely able to walk but trying her damnedest to catch one of the gem beetles that was crawling beneath the shrubbery at the edge of the small courtyard.
Gellantra watched the children play and listened to Mother Calay as the older woman spoke about how the children were progressing and where some of them were from. Something caught her attention tough, as mother Calay's words faded to the back of her mind Gallantra looked on with fascination at the red headed girl who was now holding the gem beetle in her hands and was staring at it intently. Every time the beetle would try to spread it's wings and fly off it was snatched back to the child's hands, but there was nothing there to hold the beetle. Time and again the creature would spread it's wings and time and again it would snap back to the girl's outstretched palms while the girls expression would grow more concentrated to the point where sweat was dripping off her brow and her tongue was firmly wedged between her teeth.
With an almost rude abruptness Lady Vask spoke out.
"I've made up my mind!" she said as her eyes met those of the Matron. "Will you allow me to adopt the little girl over there?" she gestured towards the child and the beetle that was now fluttering away from it as the girl dropped to the floor with a look of exhaustion.
The Matron's expression turned somewhat dark.
"Are you sure Lady Vask? She has been nothing but trouble since she was brought to us. She won't accept names that we give her and prefers to be called "Girl". She doesn't socialise with the other children and instead spends her time in nooks and crannies playing with bugs and rodents. I'm not sure she would be a good fit for a mother of some standing."
"And here I was thinking standing had nothing to do with it mother Calay." Gallantra retorted sharply. "I believe the child needs more stimulation, a decent tutor and a challenge she herself would deem worthy." She might not be of high standing but noble women learn to exert themselves when necessary and Gallantra was using every ounce of those lessons right now.
The nurses exchanged glances with the Matron that would have meant little to common folk but Gallantra was trained in the intrigues of court and read the instant relief in their faces.
"Very well. If you believe that this girl is the best fit for you milady she shall go with you. But please remember re responsibility you are taking on. It shall not be easy, especially for a woman of your age." Mother Calay's voice was stern, answering the noblewoman's earlier assertiveness with her own. Speaking now as a mother and not just the manager of an orphanage.
"I very well understand Matron. I vow that I shall give this girl my love and undivided attention for as long as she shall have me as her mother." As Gallantra spoke those words she wasn't looking at the matron. The words weren't meant for the old woman. She was looking at the little girl, stumbling in that courtyard underneath the sun spots of the large oak tree, trying to find the next thing that peaked her interest. Those words were meant for Malia.
The matron had been right. It wasn't easy. Malia though kind had proven to be a handful. Stubborn at the best of times and outright rebellious at the worst of them. Gallantra had tried her hardest to keep the girl interested and loved those moments when she could teach her something she didn't know. At first that was easy, the child had never known the luxuries and privileges of noble life so most things in the Vask household were new to her. Soon though she was done with exploring and her attention turned to her new mother from whom she demanded entertainment. The strange thing was that entertainment for Malia often meant diving deep into the family library or going out to the markets to gawk at performers. By the time Malia had reached the age of 6, of which they were fairly certain it was accurate, she had read nearly every book written in common that was available to her and was starting to take an interest in learning Elven so she could go to the main city library and borrow their books which at the time were mostly written in the tongue of the Aedrin.
Though Gallantra was doing all she could to guide her daughter and give her the love she needed Malia grew more distant. By age ten she could match her knowledge to most scholars and was getting bored. Like so many years ago, it was Lady Gridelm who provided the advice needed to help. The two women were having tea at the Vask estate's garden, Gallantra's pride and joy, when Lady Grindelm inquired: "So tell me child, are you happy? I was glad that you ignored the court's stupid rules and chose your heart."
Gallantra looked at the older woman, yes she was happy, but also worried about Malia and how fast she was progressing. "I wouldn't give her back for the world, Lady Gridelm, but I worry. Malia is not a normal girl. She progresses so fast and I feel that she's left me behind. There is little more I can teach her and kids of her age are just boring for her."
"Every parent worries Gallantra, it might be the definition of parenthood if you ask me. I have 6 children. Four sons, two daughters and even though they now have families of their own and are quite well off I still worry. As I am sure they do about their children." She smiled warmly at her younger companion, "The trick is to have faith. All you can do as a parent is guide her and hope that the decisions you make don't leave everlasting damage. And I feel that in this case, failing to guide would lead to the same end." She took another long sip of her tea. Lady Gridelm always took her own cup to these occasions, though cup was an understatement and flagon was a more fitting description.
"The academy then? Isn't she too young? What will she do without me..."
The older woman put her hand up.
"What she has been doing for the last year Gallantra, she will be doing fine. You chose the most special child on that day in that orphanage for a reason. You wanted her to be different from all the dull broads at court. Let her be different, let her shine, and most importantly, let her fall." Another long sip and a harrowing look at a servant later, her porcelain tankard was refilled.
Gallantra looked up at her, still thumbing the sides of her cup. "Thank you, I hope that one day she will know how important you were in her life."
The older woman laughed, lifted the monstrous cup and nodded.

The Academy.
Malia didn't really know why her mother had decided to admit her but she knew that it was the absolute best thing that could have ever happened to her. Her mother was worried but she hugged her tight and wiped away the tears.
"Don't worry mamma, I'll love it here! Thank you so much!"
"I know you will dear" Gallantra said as she hugged her daughter. "Go on now, show me you can be the greatest mage our Empire has ever seen!"
A last kiss on the cheek and some more tear later, Malia was running up the stairs of the Azure Spire on her way to what Gallantra hoped, would be greatness.
She wasn't disappointed. Malia took to the magic arts like a natural. The first four years of magical training are often spent in hard study of the basic principles of the arcane. Magical circles, arcane components, the 8 schools of magic and many other basic principles were handled with great care and detail. With safety and control as the red ribbon in all of these subjects, students were expected to put emphasis on command and control of the arcane rather than strength and flair.
Boring.
Boring boring boring and dull. Malia had mastered the eight circles of magic within a year. She had complete control over thread weaving, rune mastery, arcane flow control and almost any other basic principle of magic within two years. It frustrated her to no end that she wasn't allowed to put form to the theoretical substance she had made her own. It was clear to all that she had an absolutely astonishing talent for the arcane but it was also clear that patience was as foreign a concept to her as was possible. Tough impressed by her abilities, the faculty at the Azure Spire were determined to teach her patience and humility. Malia was determined to show them how wrong they were. In the two years she had to wait she decided that it was best to follow the rules that were necessary to not get her in trouble. Classes were mandatory so she couldn't get around those but her free time was hers to do with as she wanted. She couldn't cast the spells she wanted to cast because of the permanent magic detection grid in the academy but she could practice her circles. Not but three weeks before she had seen two elder students having a fight and using magic to "resolve their differences". She had watched the two boys fling simple evocations at each other that had little to no effect due to the magical shields students get taught at the beginning of their forth year. The amusement had lasted for a few minutes until a teacher had strode into the common room and frozen the two students in place with a potent enchantment. Sloppy technique and barely functional circles aside, it had given her ideas. Why limit yourself to the basic forms and formulas taught by the academy? Were the teachers afraid of experimentation with the most fundamental forms of magic or were they just so stuck in their ways that they couldn't see the room for improvement. It didn't take long before this thought became an obsession.
She had waited for the storms to come. Once a year for about a month, the seas around Markaryd would be impassable for ships and the city walls would be battered by waves. The months of storms was the perfect moment to test her theories. It was 4 months since the day she had seen the two boys fling poorly constructed spells at each other and she had been preparing ever since. This wasn't going to be easy. The theory she had come up with was solid, the rune exchanges and supportive weaves should work to strengthen a basic evocation circle's fundamental properties. The transmutation sigils she wanted to add to the evocation circle however were a different story. Even though the two magical principles were close to each other, transmutation often needed a base component to work where as evocation components could be pulled from the eather. The trick was to strengthen the evocation circle enough so that the transmutation sigils would activate without the right component and just raw magical power. All solid in theory... and extremely dangerous in practice. She mumbled the principles to herself as she made her way through the dark corridors of the spire. Being out this late was a punishable offence in it's self... being out this late to try and use a magical technique that wasn't approved by the council of the spire by someone who wasn't even allowed to cast the simplest of spells... that was reason for expulsion. She had wanted to try this in the first years training chambers as those were reinforced with Dwarven runes that allowed for much easier creation of circles by pouring pure mana into the room but those halls were closely watched and often locked. Her best chance was to use the open gardens on the 47th floor of the tower. There was enough magical presence there that it would make the circles a bit sturdier but the biggest advantage was that she was still small enough to hide in the brushes where no one could see her. It had taken her almost an hour to reach the garden gates. Teachers at the academy weren't cruel, but they loved to humiliate adventurous students by setting tiny magical traps that made your skin go all colors of the rainbow for the next few days if you snuck out at night. Luckily, Malia had found out that one of the more complex illusion circles, when peered through at just the right angle could reveal the magical threads of the "Rainbowmbs" as the students liked to call them. She was at the gate. The beautiful forged iron bars, adorned with brass, copper and silver flowers covered the entire entrance and made sure that no one could enter. No adult at least, normally she cursed her small, childish appearance but at this moment it was a blessing. Pushing herself through the bars was painful and she'd feel the bruises for at least a week but that was the last thing on her mind right now. She was in and she was ready.
The rhododendron brushes were in full bloom. She found herself a nice spot to sit between the thick branches and began to concentrate. Basic evocation, easy. Strengthening runes for more power delivery, easy. Two minutes in and it was holding stable. Now came the hard part. The transmutation weave needed to bind the sigils. Her hand movements were steady, calculated and precise. She pulled the strands of magic through the circle, attaching them to the loderunes one by one. With each weave she connected she senses the tension in the circle grow. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Four down, eight to go. Faster, she needed to go faster or the circle would destabilize. Her movements became more frantic as she got down to the last four strands. The circle was humming and vibrating with energy as if seething with anger at the sacrilege that was being inflicted on it. Two strands to go. Sparks started flying off of the loderunes as they were strained almost beyond their limit. And then silence. She had done it. The reinforcement was completed and energy flowed through the loderunes like it had never done before. The stability of transmutation runes with the raw magical potency of evocation flowing through them. Now for the final part. Augmenting the properties of the circle. The had started with a circle of ice as those were most stable but now she was going to add a component of versatility to the circle which would allow for the use of different elements at will with the spells that this base evocation lead to.
She began to draw the first sigil. The reaction was instant, savage and painful. Shocks shot through her as the circle, though stable strained against her will. Her left hand, pulling energy from the eather to stabilise feed the sigil while her right hand that drew the symbol felt like she had dunked it in molten lava. She pushed through and finished the first sigil without letting out a sound. Luckily the pain was mental, she wouldn't want to explain a burned arm to her teachers. The runes, weaves and sigils in front of her seemed to look angrily at her, as if to enforce that what she was trying was against all the rules of the academy. Screw the rules. The second sigil hurt more than the first. Tears rolled down her eyes as she was trying to stifle her screams. There was no going back. The magic reeled against her, it spat and growled as she forced it to comply to her will.
The third sigil blinded her.
"Don't scream! Don't scream dammit! The pain!" she called out in her mind.
Her little form, wracked by the immense amount of arcane energy needed to sustain that last sigil. Forcing them against the current of magic she was so desperately trying to control now.
"Don't fuck this up! This is your only chance! Don't you dare fuck this up!"
Her mind was racing at a blinding speed going over her studies. There had to be something that could stop the pain. She felt the sigil bend beneath her touch. Sigils weren't supposed to bend. Panic gripped her as she realised it wasn't the sigil bending but her bones. Almost there. Time seemed to stand still as she fought her own creation. Letting go meant death. The energy flowing through that circle would most certainly disintegrate her if not take half the tower with it.
"Think, damn it! Think!"
She heard sickening crackling sounds, her hand wouldn't recover for a while... Madness gripped her. Brilliant blissful madness. Her left hand let go of the eather and grasped the sigil with both hands. The flow of energy she was controlling now gushed forth, engulfing her and the circle like a waterfall of shimmering magical agony.
"Strange. There must be a limit to how much pain one can feel" she thought.
Holding her broken hand, she pushed through that pain while moments seemed to stretch into years.
And then she felt it. That ecstatic snap. That one thing that could release her. The satisfying completion of a circle. She dropped her arms and fell to her back. Every nerve in her body still screaming from what she had just put herself through. Not to mention the fountain of arcane energy still gushing out of the eather. She couldn't believe she still had the strength to do it but her left arm lifted it's self and as if by it's own will went through the motions of closing the rift. She was alive. Sadly the amount of not dead that she was equalled the amount of stupidity it had taken to do what she just did. Her right arm was definitely shattered. It was interesting how pain came in so many different flavours. She wished she hadn't found that out as her vision was slowly returning to her. The white was being replaced by brilliant shades of red green and orange. Had she done it? Was it stable? As her vision cleared she almost yelled out in sheer ecstasy.
There it was before her. A brilliant stable circle. More complex than any she had seen before. It's facets seemed infinite as the runes, weaves and sigils interacted with each other. The harmony she saw before her now was so vastly different from the chaos it was born from that it was almost too hard to understand. She instinctively reached for her notebook and was swiftly reminded of her mangled hand by the sharp pain of her fingers hitting the leather of her bag. Committing to memory would have to do. She studied the circle. Took in every aspect she could think of, the colors, the patterns, the way weaves interacted with each other and the way the loderunes seemed to almost float as if there was nothing for them to hold. So strange, how could it exist so effortlessly while it took so much effort to create. She wanted to leave it here and study it more but she couldn't. Without her noticing she had spent more than three hours creating the circle and light was slowly peeking over the horizon. Dispersing the circle felt like killing a kitten. Malia stood there, hesitant for almost ten minutes before she unwound the lockstrands holding the outside together and let the magic dissipate.
On the way back she found a new appreciation for not having her hand broken into a million tiny bits and the next day an even greater appreciation for the healing magic of the matrons. She wasn't sure the matrons believed her story about falling down from her chair while trying to hold an evocation circle with one hand while balancing on her toes, but it was the type of thing she was becoming known for so she didn't give it more thought. It took her several more months to figure out why her experiment had nearly destroyed her. She had easily completed the trials for third year students and was now waiting for her turn to take the trial of circles which would decide her future as a mage at the academy and which school of magic she would belong to. Her second attempt to refine her experiments went much more smoothly than the first. After sneaking into the restricted section of the library she had found some tomes about experimental research in leeching energy from circles which she used to reduce the overall potency of the process. This in turn allowed for a much less painful casting. By the third time she tried it she had refined the theory to the point of actual safety. She could repeatedly cast the combined circle without hurting herself and even channel energy through it at a reliable controllable rate. The exams were drawing near and she was ready.
The Trial of the Circles
The grounds of the Azure Spire had been transformed into a veritable carnival. Traders, craftsmen, entertainer, common folk and nobility had gathered from all over the empire to see the spectacle that was, the Trial of the Circles. Weather fate or fortune, the exam had coincided with Malia's fourteenth birthday. The trials were usually a huge spectacle in which students would show off their mastery of the fundamentals of magic. Each student would perform a series of complex dance like routines called Kata. Designed to test their abilities and provide the audience with a beautiful show, every student was instructed in the proper techniques and they had plenty of time to practice. Practice time that Malia used to prepare her own routine. The academy's routines were well structured, strict and most of all, boring. She had mastered the moves and timings in less than a week and had started on her own routine right away. A routine that included a very personal touch.
As students were preparing, laying the last touches on their routines or getting a last moment of much missed sleep, Malia was walking the festival grounds. Even though she was technically nobility and her mother owned an estate her allowance wasn't what you would call "Royal". In the days before the trial she had come home and she and her mother had visited one of the city's more illustrious tailors where they had picked out a magnificent red and black dress for her that she would wear during the performance. Malia had had some very specific requirements about the fit and cut of the dress that somewhat irritated the tailor but her mother had payed him well beyond the regular fee so the protests ended rather quickly. The dress felt light and moved perfectly with her as she was browsing through stalls. At some point a troupe of acrobats lifted her off her feet and threw her in the air, fully expecting the young girl to scream at the top of her lungs. The astonishment on their faces was sweeter than honey as they saw Malia do a perfect air roll and land, arms spread wide in a triumphant pose in the middle of the troupe. Cheers went up from the crowd as she spent 15 minutes in a mock acrobatics standoff with the jesters and acrobats, twirling and twisting through the air, taking turns, outperforming one another until two of the acrobats pulled a maneuver so complex the naked eye could hardly comprehend it and Malia had to take a bow in defeat. That bow was met with overwhelming cheers and praise from the performers and the crowd and she had to refuse multiple offers to join the troupe or at least have a drink with them. This performance was fun, but she had one much more important than this little display to worry about.
The student trials were set as the main event that was to take place mid afternoon in the main hall of the Azure Spire. Even though the tower it's self was big, it could never have accommodated all of the people gathered around it. Only those lucky enough to have gotten their hands on tickets were allowed in, and those who watched outside were treated to the spectacle through complicated illusion enchantments placed all around the tower and the inside of the hall.
Malia was waiting in one of the ready rooms together with some of her classmates. Though she didn't really socialize with her peers she'd become what could be considered friends with another girl named Jehdiin. A dark skinned beautiful young woman who hailed from the desert tribes tot he east of the empire. The two were like water and fire. Jehdiin was brash, forward and bold where Malia was calculated, reserved and patient. They shared most classes and often talked or spent time together studying. Malia had helped Jahdiin with her routine and saw the other girl go through the motions as she was leaning against one of the window sills in the small room.
"Your're going to hurt yourself before you have to perform. Stop fidgeting and sit down." Malia said with a hefty portion of boredom in her voice.
"I'm going to hurt you..." A flip "if you don't stop being so smug." a roll and some hand movements "Not all of us can prance around being the prodigy of the century..." a wide leg sweep "like you." Jahdiin stood up, sweat dripping from her forehead after completing the routine.
"Nearly perfect" said Malia, ignoring the threat. "That last sweep could be a bit tighter but you'll make it no problem. I'm guessing Evocation." Malia looked up just in time to catch the towel that came flying at her face.
"Yeah right..." Jahdiin scoffed. "I'd be surprised if they don't invent a special type of necromancy just for you."
"That'd be interesting, but not my forte. Binding yourself to one school of magic seems like such a waste." Malia jumped off the window sill and made a soft landing, the new dress was holding up well. "This whole festival is a pointless charade of rules and ancient traditions."
"So what, it's not like we can change anything about it. What are you going to do? Stride up there and invent a new school of magic?" The dark skinned girl picked up her towel and made herself ready to be called out. Only a few more minutes before Malia had to go, then it would be Jahdiin's turn. She wasn't looking forward to it. Being the follow up to Malia meant getting a lower score for sure.
The trumpets sounded and the gates opened. Malia looked back at her with a sly grin. "Not a new school Jadi, just the destruction of the old ones"
Savant
To say the arena was a sight to behold would be an understatement. Thousands of seats surrounded the main staging area with a beautiful view of both the shore and the field it's self. The most amazing part was that those seats were actually located in a completely different dimension and were melded into this reality by the use of some pretty serious magic. Well, not really the most amazing part. That title went to the artificial sun that lit up the entirety of the arena and stands with a brilliant soft glow. Malia walked into the arena. The cheers sounded muffled through the dimensional barriers of the stands, they probably worked best the other way around. To the right of her was the jury stand. Twelve of the academy's senior staff were seated there. One for each school of magic, looking for distinct traits that will make a student suited for their faculty. Three from the academy's council, judging form, technique and overall knowledge of practical material. And lastly the Headmaster of the Azure Spire. A gnome of advanced age and jovial attitude. Mekesh Vughn had been the headmaster for as long as anyone of non elven or dwarven descent could remember and had probably outlived a couple of the more ancient teachers as well. Having him watch the performances was probably stressful for most students. Little did she know that for her, it would be a blessing.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the pleasure to present, fourth year honour student, holder of no less than 84 marks of complete excellence, top of her year. The magnificent, Lady Malia Vask!" The announcer's voice boomed over the stands amplified by magic. "Which school of magic will have the privilege to call her one of it's ranks? What wonders will she perform in the future? Remember today for this is where it all began!"
Malia rolled her eyes, good thing everyone was so far away. She had nearly reached the center of the arena. Ten more steps. Five. Two. She spread her arms, her face expressionless, and took on the required starting stance. Let's see what they make of this.
"Begin!" Sounded the headmaster's shrill voice over the crowds.
Her movements were like lightning. Her hands performed the signs as her feet dug into the hard sand of the arena. She grasped the weaves of arcane around her. No Dwarven runes or fancy magical gardens to aid her this time. Malia reached deep into the eather and pulled. An immense torrent of mana flowed forth like a wild beast that needed to be tamed. This was Necromancy. The mimicry of true life force given shape through arcane study. Her runes appeared swift and resolute, binding the torrent to her will. The weaves she held flowed forth around the runes as she drew the sigils that completed the circle. Her little form twisted like a gnarled tree as finished the ancient tribal dance that formed the basis for the circle of Necromancy. She held it above her like a trophy and let it dissipate. Black shadow flowed over her, obscuring her from view as she began the next sequence. Cheers and applause filled the stadium with each of the sets she completed. Each more spectacular than the next in size and perfection. Her illusion circle was so powerful that when she let go of it she could swear she saw some of the teachers casting Abjurations to protect themselves from it's effects with the master of illusions looking rather smug at the others.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, bastard." she thought, "I won't be bound by your pitiful power play."
She waited for the applause to die down. The magic of the last kata had dissipated. This was it. Evocation and Transmutation to go. Murmurs filled the arena, the eager spectators waiting to see the two most spectacular, the crescendo of the performance. She waited. Just a little longer. The evocation and transmutation teachers turned towards each other and started to whisper.
NOW!
The violence with which she tore open the Eather shook the arena. She could almost hear the screams of nearby spectators over the cacophony she had just created. Two gaping maws, tears into reality burst open on either side of her bathing her in brilliant searing light. The pain wasn't as bad as the first time though she had only just begun. Her hands had already gripped the weaves as she burst forth from the maelstrom coming to a sliding halt, the arcane tendrils in her grasp, roaring like caged monsters. She turned to face the two rifts that were now coalescing. Perfect.
The green tendrils screamed as they clashed with the growling red torrents under the sheer willpower of this little girl. The crowd watched in terror as the tiny form fought against two monstrous disasters of her own creation. Bolts of arcane spat forth from the rifts, exploding on contact with the arena. Fear began to ripple through the crowd as they saw Malia start to move against the rifts.
"Bend you bitch" she screamed in her mind as her iron will forced the two streams into a circle. Green and red overlapped as she rammed the lode runes into place. The rifts calmed down as energy was now channeled into the slowly growing circle. Her stance widened. Her feet dug further into the soil with each step of the incantation. Time for some pain. Malia's arms shot forward as her fingers started to draw the first sigil. Even though she had nearly perfected the technique, the sheer amount of power she was having to control sent white hot arcs of pain through her body. Her vision started to go white again as the sound around her faded.
All along the stands people were gasping in terror as they watched the young student who's body was now a conduit for pure energy. Her arms were starting to disintegrate as lightning flowed from her feet into the soil. Men were shouting at the teachers to make this stop as women fainted at the sight of a student seemingly committing suicide in front of them. Gallantra Vask was given a front row seat to the festivities and had to now watch in horror as her daughter, gripped by madness, attempted to destroy herself with an unparalleled audience. She didn't have to watch long. Darkness engulfed the stands as the dimensional barriers closed down and isolated the crowd from the arena.
Malia saw the stands go dark. Bastards! Even now they hid behind their ridiculous rules and ignorant traditions. She had nearly completed the third sigil as she noticed the darkness spread over the jury stand. What was going on? No time to think about it. If she didn't finish that last seal she'd die and that wouldn't do... With an angry scream Malia rammed the last rune in place sealing the flow of magic and completing the circle. She spun around, facing the jury stand. The only thing she saw however, were the small beady eyes of Headmaster Vughn.
"Very impressive, Malia." Makesh's voice was calm and jovial. "I knew you were up to something but this was quite the feat."
Momentairly stunned by the realisation she was speaking to the Headmaster, Malia took a bow and was just about to say something as the tiny gnome raised his staff.
"Eh! Not now. You scared all of our visitors to death. Not to mention the Academy's staff... They nearly tore their eyes out trying to comprehend what you were doing." His smile had widened and she could swear he was chuckling to himself, though you could never be sure with the way gnomish voices sounded. "Let's take a walk. I have some things to share."
Unsure of weather to curse him or thank him for what he had done, Malia simply nodded and took a more relaxed stance as the small figure in front of her started to mutter a conjuration. An insanely complex at that. She could see the weaves forming around him but they were too many and too intricate for her to follow. The air began to shiver in front of them and a perfectly round tear into reality formed.
"Come on, it doesn't last long!" The gnome said as he stepped through the portal. Malia followed suit. The landscape that greeted them was nothing short of pandemonium. Trees and plants grew to sizes beyond belief, the fields that stretched in front of them seemed to be made of rainbow as the grass changed color with each gust of wind.
"Welcome, to the Feywild!" The gnome said with childish glee. "Here we can talk in private."
"You needed to take me to another plane to talk, Headmaster?" Malia's voice sounded unsure and unsteady. She'd read about the Feywild and anything written about it spelled certain disaster for all who tread it's maddening landscapes.
"Yes, I did. For what I am about to tell you is not for the ears of anyone but the two of us and these lovely grasses." he said as he waved his staff and started to levitate to about eye level with Malia. Even though the girl was just fourteen years of age, he still only stood as high as her waist.
"Why did you not stop me, Master? You chose to veil the arena in darkness instead of stop the creation of the dual circles. Why?" She could look him in the eyes now and saw nothing but delight. Was he messing with her? She knew better than to provoke an ancient wizard like him but if he was like the other teachers he too could drop off a cliff for as far as she cared.
"Because it was genius! It was extremely poorly executed, dangerous, suicidal, and utterly mad! But it was genius!" His body bobbed up and down as he was waving his arms in excitement. "You should have seen the faces on those stuffy old men when you nearly tore the stadium in twain."
Malia just stood there in complete astonishment. He must be crazy. He was the one who came up with all the dumb rules right? Wasn't it his idea to forbid earlier completion of training? What was his deal?
"I don't get it headmaster. Why are you not angry? I broke almost every rule of the academy. I sneaked off at night, created unbalanced, dangerous magic principles." Her fists clenched she began to shake in anger. "I broke, everything, your precious academy stands for and you call that brilliance?"
"I do." He said calmly as he turned around in the air. "Follow me Malia, and I'll tell you a story. Afterwards you'll have a better understanding of the school and it's rules." He didn't wait for her response and started floating deeper into the rainbowgrass. "The idea of combining circles to create new forms of magic isn't new you know." He waved his right hand and a perfect combined circle of abjuration and illusion appeared at his fingertips. "Though Savants are rare as moon dust. Every now and then one pops up and tries their hand at alchemical casting and other convention breaking magic." The circle changed, necromancy and conjuration this time. "You got lucky. Evocation and Transmutation are somewhat alike yes, but not feeding a Transmutation circle the proper materials... Very dangerous!" he glanced at her and made a gesture with his hands that clearly meant "Explosion"
"What is a Savant, Headmaster?" Malia asked cautiously. This felt like being roped into one of those gangs she'd read about in the library. A dangerous, crazy, giant blue mushroom revering gang of crazy wizards that is...
"Ah, good question! Savant is the collective word for a very rare type of magic wielder. Mostly arcane in nature. They can peer into the Aether and grasp it's intricate and maddening patterns, pulling them to their will and forcing them into shapes that other wizards cannot even comprehend." He stopped floating and turned around. "You, like me and a few others have the ability to bend magic to our will. Tapping into resources that go against the natural law of the arcane."
Was this acknowledgement or conscription? Malia didn't know. But everything seemed to fit. "Why so few master? The principles I used shouldn't be too hard to comprehend for other casters. They too should be able to make the necessary calculations and rites to do what I did."
This time the gnome did chuckle. A chiming high pitched sound as if someone was squeezing the air out of a balloon whilst pinching the neck. "Because it doesn't work for them. Give them the formula and teach them to do it and they still won't be able to. Those tears you made into the Eather, how many of your peers or even teachers can reach that deep? How many can gather that amount of power, let alone control it." his grin turned sly "No my dear Malia,they cannot even come close to what we are."
This was what she wanted. A truly unique talent. Something that proved her superiority above the rest. Something that set her apart. But it felt empty. Was it really what she wanted? Or was she just born with an unfair advantage over everyone else.
"So that means that all my achievements until now. All of them, have just been a result of being lucky. Of being born better than the rest?" Her hands clenched into fists as anger and disbelief vied for control over her as she stared at the Headmaster.
"Most definitely not." Makesh said with a softer expression this time."You fought, my pupil. You didn't sit idle and let the world pass you by as others struggled with what seemed child play to you. You sought challenge and broke boundaries set to you so you could learn limits, both your own, and of our academy's, simple, protection system.
"So what now. Special and powerful be damned. You still made sure that I can't show my face in the academy again by pulling that darkness trick." Malia was fuming at this point. How could he remain so calm when he'd just shattered her world in such a way? "What happens now? I go back to school, pretend like nothing's happened and join one of the eight like a good little girl? I keep silent about this and protect the stupid rules?"
No laughs met her this time. The chuckles and glee had faded as Vughn's expression turned serious. "You don't. You will come back to the academy, follow all the classes I tell you to follow but you will not be part of a school. You will not identify with one discipline. You are a Savant, Malia. You are one of only seven known to exist at this point. With you that makes us eight!"
He sighed. "There is another important thing about being a Savant...." Makesh's eyes turned to the rainbow fields and giant trees. "This talent is, genetic. With only seven known Savants that almost makes you family."
Family. That word resonated within her. She loved her mother, lady Vask with all her heart and was grateful for all that she had done for her. But still. Real Family. And not just any family. A family of unparalleled mages that seemed to surpass all others. Her rage subsided as curiosity and a glimpse of something that seemed like, hope, took over.
"Do you know who my parents are, Headmaster?"
"I could hazard a guess but I fear that it would be nothing more than speculation, young Malia." The softness in his face had returned and she could see something that looked like pity in his dark beady eyes. "I have a proposal. You, Malia Vask, Savant of the Azure Spire, shall become my pupil. You shall learn from me, follow my rules to the letter and follow the path that I will lay before you. In return, I Makesh Vughn, Headmaster of the Azure Spire, conduit of the Eight, promise to challenge you beyond measure, grant you teachings beyond belief, and show you the way to unparalleled power through absolute knowledge. I will help you find your parents and understand your past, and I pledge to be by your side until you are ready to find your own path.
He stretched out his hand towards her, the tiny hairy gnome fingers twitching expectantly. Malia hesitated. Apart from being the most powerful wizard at the academy, Headmaster Vughn was also known for being strange, eccentric and just plain crazy from time to time. This definitely felt like being roped into a gang. But a gang of insanely powerful wizards, of who one or more might be her parents, didn't sound bad. She took the Headmaster's hand and his expectation instantly turned to glee.
"Very well young one!" His voice almost broke with excitement as he started on a new even more complex conjuration "Not let me show you why I brought you to the fey wild!" his hands gripped another set of unfathomable strands as the same round portal began to form before them again. "Time if a bit iffy here. But if you know what you're doing you can achieve some special results. I'll bring us back to five minutes before you start your routine, we will merge with our past selves and when we do, you will complete the required routine without scaring half the population of Markaryd to death. Afterwards, I will award you with a perfect score, which I am sure you will achieve, and proclaim you my personal pupil. No one needs to know about you being a savant. Being a headmaster has it's privileges sometimes!" The portal opened with a roar and Vughn yelled "Let's go my pupil! Show the world what a Savant can do!"


To be continued!


Magische krachten en afstamming:
-Malia is opgegroeid als wees/dochter van een alleenstaande moeder. -Als peuter werd al duidelijk dat ze affiniteit heeft met magie en extreem intelligent is. Ze heeft zichzelf leren lezen voor kon lopen en sprak voor haar pubertijd elke taal waar ze mee in aanraking is gekomen. -Door haar extreme talenten in de magie, werden de vermoeden en geruchten dat ze een buitenechtelijke dochter is van de legendarische Loremaster Gedden Marr steeds sterker. Of deze geruchten op waarheid berusten is vooralsnog niet bekend, echter is Malia er van overtuigd geraakt en geobsedeerd geraakt door haar 'vader' . -Door middel van jarenlange zelfstudie, naast haar reguliere training, heeft ze zichzelf omgevormd tot 'Loremaster', tot groot ongenoegen van haar Masters in de Wizard Academy. -Haar grootse droom, doel en obsessie is de krachten van Gedden te evenaren en misschien wel te ontstijgen.

Waarom 'The Coin'?
-Malia is net 19, maar ze is er al een tijd achter dat ze in Markaryd niets meer gaat leren van de aanwezige Wizards. Om haar krachten verder uit te breiden, wil ze de wijde wereld intrekken om de verborgen geheimen van magie verder te ontdekken. Ze besluit zich dan ook aan te sluiten bij 'The Coin'. -Hoe belachelijk ze het zelf ook vindt ("ze mogen blij zijn dat een krachtige Wizard als Malia überhaubt overweegt om zich uit te huren als mercenary"), gaat dit niet zo makkelijk. Hoe speciaal Malia ook denkt dat ze is, in 'The Coin' worden geen shortcuts genomen, Malia zal zich net als ieder ander moeten bewijzen voor ze als volwaardig lid toe kan treden.
Uiterlijk:
-Toen Malia van een meisje in een vrouw veranderde, werd haar al snel duidelijk dat haar intelligentie en magische krachten niet haar enige middelen zijn om macht uit te oefenen over anderen, vooral mannen. Haar prachtige verschijning in combinatie met haar onschuldige uiterlijk, zorgt er voor dat ze veelal onderschat wordt na een eerste ontmoeting. Malia is zich hier zeer bewust van en doet geen moeite om te voorkomen dat ze als naïef en beïnvloedbaar gezien kan worden, sterker nog, ze gebruikt deze vooroordelen voor eigen gewin bij elke kans die ze krijgt. Mannen die denken over haar heen te kunnen walsen, komen vanzelfsprekend van een koude kermis thuis.

Eyes

Green