Thread: Seals, Souls, and Secrets (Matsekkusu & Erit of Eastcris)

The late-summer sun beat down without mercy upon the station Izikiel Radia stood upon, where he waited with thinning patience for the train that would ferry him from the city he'd been born in nineteen years ago. He stood, foot tapping in agitation against his suitcase, pale azure eyes cast down the track as though his frustrated glare would bring the locomotive to him faster. He knew it wouldn't, but staring down the track was a better use of his attention than attempting to interact with the contrarian runt of a demon standing nearby. Deanna was many things to Izikiel his first of many Familiars, a powerful succubus, an animal in the sack. But one thing she usually wasn't for him was tolerable, the woman taking every chance she could to crawl under his skin with some impertinence or another. No matter how many times he asserted his control, clicking his fingers to tighten the silver-chased leather choker on her neck, she always bounced back to her flippancy within moments. She was a wearying Familiar, but Izikiel was stuck with her until he could summon and bind one more suiting to his tastes, and that wouldn't be for a number of years Deanna was only there because Zeke's father had heavily assisted in her summoning it was forbidden for mages to practice unsupervised until they had completed their education, and that was what Zeke was aiming to do. The reason he stood on that platform waiting for his train along with several dozen others, all dressed in the green-and-grey uniform of Grand Damocles University. An academy of mages, where those among the three-fifths of the population with the gift of the arcane were sent to learn about their abilities what they were, their history, how they could be controlled and mastered. Some went to develop their pyromancy, others to learn the intricacies of the ley-lines and the finer points of rituals. Zeke was attending to study demonology and onmyoji, magics of summoning and binding, as had his father and grandmother. It was the art passed through their blood, the mysticism bound to their family which the crystal-eyed sun-haired youth had inherited. Not that it did him much good in attempting to command his first demon, the belligerent succubus frequently more interested in flirting with or mocking him than in obeying his orders. She would definitely be getting replaced with all haste. Eventually, at its own pace, the train pulled into the station and permitted the cadre of new students to board, escaping the blistering heat to take seats in the climate-controlled locomotive before it departed for lands farther away. Some were already chatting merrily, eagerly making friends with fellow first-years and demonstrating their bloodline's talent. Izikiel was left in solitude, Deanna's presence all the demonstration the others needed to know what his gift was the simultaneously reviled and respected art of summoning. Hated for its uniqueness amongst the many forms of magic, relying upon the strength of external beings rather than the skill of the mage themselves, but respected out of a reluctant admittance that any summoner worth their salt commanded far more power than any druid or shaman might. Zeke sat alone, accompanied only by his two bags and Deanna, and kept his gaze to the scenery that crawled by outside the window. It would be a day and a half's journey to the campus, and many more stops between then and now to pick up more students. And after arriving they would not see their homes again for the entire year, barring extreme circumstances. So, Zeke saved his energy, watching clouds for a few minutes before reaching into his pocket to pull out his grimoire, a tiny booklet that fit in the palm of his hand adorned with a fine silver chain dangling from the spine and wrapping around the face of the tome several times. Calling it a grimoire in the traditional sense was disingenuous, as the book was more a focus than a repository of information, helping Zeke to direct his will into causing phenomena that lay outside his innate abilities. All mages could perform all breeds of magic, but to draw upon abilities outside their bloodline's purview they required such things as foci and incantations, spellbooks and formulae. For most mages it was acceptable to simply specialize in what they could do naturally, but summoning was a lengthy an involved process not precisely feasible for most everyday uses. So, Zeke practiced other arts beyond his own, rounding out his knowledge and ability with evocations great and small. The chains on the grimoire jangled lightly as he drew it forth from his pocket, holding up the snowy-white covered book to the sunlight and letting it spin slowly, freely on its fine silver string. Of the two gifts Father gave me before packing me off to school, the young man said suddenly, his voice a clear and calm tenor like a welcome spring breeze, I much prefer this. At least a book cannot kick me from my bed in the dead of night and laugh about it. He added the last with a cold glare at his companion, still bitter over the previous evening's antics which had ended with him sore and groggy come the morning. You still haven't apologized for that.