Struggling against chaos and madness itself

by **Arcana** December 4th 2018, 7:14 pm

The world existed in multiple layers. Some that modern, mundane man found difficult to penetrate let alone even cope with. The madness of Lovecraft novels was not too far off from what could exist beyond the membranes of the universe. Something Zell always seemed reticent in talking about despite how commonly fiction itself seemed to present the ideas as possible. Nothing that should be toyed with of course, though Sean took the potential as factual and acted in that regard. With the possibility of multiple worlds came those that would want to do damage to them. Such as The Abyss, as well as something new that had come into scope only recently. Cropping up with it cults and various other things all pointing to it.

The Black Beast.

Like the doomsday beats of fiction it was said to come and destroy all that it touched. Worlds, people and everything else. That was what the texts of these cultists had come to speak of, the ultimate destruction that was destined for all planes. The oblivion of the void as they had come to call it. Even thinking about it now made him shudder, standing atop a dune of heat blasted sand. Now wrapped within layers of cloth to keep the sun from falling upon his skin. As small of an annoyance that a sunburn would be, he wanted to avoid anything that would get in his way if possible. Especially since he was supposed to be breaking through this barrier that served as a glamour as well.

Reaching out an arm, his fingers brushed across the smooth surface. Space rippling outward as if reacting to the innate energy within him. Any mundane individual would have stepped through and thought nothing was there. Even the most modern of scanning was thwarted by the spell weaved here. Not something that he could so easily break, though temporarily creating a hole within the bubble was another matter. The air was ripe with someone elses magical essence but he didn’t know who it was. Muttering words in abyssal under his breath, energy sparked from his fingers and danced along the surface of the barrier.

Sparks writhed and coalesced towards a point, before the barrier began to peel itself open from the spot. Leaving enough room for him, and maybe someone half a foot taller to be able to walk through as well. ”And this is why i’m the sorcerer supreme.” He muttered pleased with himself, stepping through the entrance which would remain for a minute or so before it closed around itself. Finding weaknesses within spells always managed to be easier than just trying to brute force through it. Beyond was more sand that lead up to what looked to be the ruined courtyard of a grand complex. The center composed of a worn sandstone formed into a building, not a pyramid as one would expect but more of a grand desert temple. Fountains spewing out what he assumed was cold water and birds flying through the air in circles.

”The air is thick with mana. Must be one hell of a stasis spell.” He muttered to himself, pulling the turban wrapped around his head away and letting locks of black hair fall to his forehead. There were still a few spells he hadn’t learned, such as ones to regulate his own temperature. Stepping ontothe stone of the courtyard, he looked around with faintly glowing eyes and sighed. ”Weaver said I might find something to stop The Beast somewhere in here but I wonder why she couldn’t do it herself.” Muttered he began walking through the yard itself, careful for any traps that might have been set.

by **Nicolas Flamel** December 4th 2018, 11:57 pm

Whispers.

First they were only whispers. A old student of his telling him of odd happenings, a bookseller spewing enigmas, and a lowly mage talking to a colleague about some great disturbance. It could have been left at that. The magical community was notorious for false alarms. Even though their craft was much more real then the modern world would like to believe, they did sometimes fall into baseless mysticisms. He couldn't even count how many cults he'd tracked down only to find out the deity they worshipped didn't actually exist.

But this? This was different. Flamel could feel it.

He had tracked every lead he could for months. Most of them turned out to be nothing, but the ones that didn't sent chills down his spine. The Father of Alchemy had been around for a long time, and he rarely encountered something that took him out of his comfort zone. But once in awhile, he'd come across something that made him tremble. It was a reminder he still had much to learn, even after all this time. This felt like it might be one of those cases. If all of it were true, it could very well spell the end of man.

But, like always, there was still hope.

The coming storm could be halted, if the legends were to be believed. What was required for it was an item of great magical power, which was, according to his research, somewhere in Egypt. He had been given many warnings not to go, especially alone, but if this force that was coming was what he thought it was, then he had no other choice.

Through the use of alchemy, and some reminders from his book, Flamel had crafted a mana detector. It wouldn't let him track individual mages, as that would take much more time to make, but it would direct him to large concentrations of the substance. With this device, Nicolas would be able to narrow down his search. He already knew from his investigation the general area of where the item was to be found; it was only a matter of searching that area.

It had taken hours of walking through the desert to find. It was lucky he could transmute himself some water, otherwise this journey of his would have been a lot less pleasant. Nevertheless, the glamor had become evident as soon as it came into sight. Elementary to be sure, although that may have just been his perspective. His alchemist's sight made it practically jump out at him. What the glamor was covering did not match atomically with what it was disguising itself as.

Flamel got close, then reached out. His fingers touched a smooth, hard surface. It seemed the magic was cloaking some form of barrier. Difficult to completely destroy, no doubt, but transmuting a small area would be relatively simple.

Flamel analyzed what comprised the barrier exactly, then pointed his cane at the spot in front of him. With his command, the stone at it's tip poured energy into the barrier. This energy moved through the small section Flamel intended to be an entrance, rearranging it on an atomic level. In almost no time, the material that made up the barrier crumbled. It didn't matter if it was energy, solid matter, or anything else. Flamel had made sure he knew exactly how to loosen it's bonds before he raised his cane. The result of this quick alchemy was a breach large enough for him to fit through.

Flamel stepped inside. The air was thick with mana. His detector was all but useless now. The old man discarded it, then began once again trekking through the sand.

He never cared for deserts. Unfortunately, duty seemed to call him here more often than he would have liked. Why couldn't the world destroying demons be killed with items from France?

Struggling against chaos and madness itself

Struggling against chaos and madness itself

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