The Last Light of Diviner Finn: Calista's Conundrum

Calista felt uneasy as she waited for Wizard #7518 to be brought into the ritual chamber. His hands would be magically bound together and to his crystal ball. It was paramount for the extraction ritual that Finn’s magic be flowing as usual. One member of the ritual circle would be responsible for holding Finn in stasis, but they could not incapacitate him mentally prior to the ritual. This meant a certain vulnerability that could not be avoided.

They were soon to perform dark magic. Dark magic always carried risks. Even if the ritual were performed flawlessly, the results always carried some degree of unpredictability. And this was an old ritual. It was a ritual that had not been performed for decades, perhaps even centuries. Asteria the Cockatrice had witnessed the dark sisters perform this ritual once, long ago, and had helped fill some of the gaps in Calista’s knowledge. But witnessing magic and performing magic were two entirely different things.

As a Cosmic Mage from the circle of Dark Sisters, Calista was undoubtedly the wizard best suited for the task of capturing Finn’s magical energy and essence as he was cast into the sacred flame, before it escaped across the Quantum Shadow. But being mistress of the ritual also meant that she would be most exposed to any mishaps. To complete a ritual of this complexity she would have to fully open herself to the cosmos and harness every bit of cosmic magic that she could. Calista didn’t like opening herself to that degree. She would have to rely on those around her to keep her safe.

Calista looked around the ritual circle. The others remained shrouded by their robes, heads cast downward. Not one wizard looked back at her to offer a reassuring glance. Truth be told, they were all terrified of her. They would not risk themselves to help her if things went awry. There was only one other being in the chamber she could rely on, her familiar, Asteria. Luckily, the other members of the purple pavilion feared Asteria nearly as much as they did Calista. Her sharp talons and beak could slice through an artery like butter, and she had been known to sneak up behind wizards who crossed Calista and perch upon their neck. An ominous warning to abandon their machinations against her mistress.

There had been a lot of fear in the purple pavilion lately. That was the other cause for Calista’s unease. Not too long ago, Diviner Finn had been a member of the purple wizards, a valued one. But his value extended only so far as he delivered information to the purple councillors. When Finn became unwilling to continue sharing his prophecies, the purple councillors decided to take them by force.

Calista was still unnerved by how little resistance Finn had offered when she had found and invaded his refuge in The Thorn. It was almost like he knew that there was a fate much grander than his life, and that he was powerless in that moment to have any sway over it. Or perhaps he saw something that Calista could not. That worried her.

When Calista brought Finn back to the pavilion she assumed that he would be imprisoned and forced to continue relaying visions from his crystal ball into the ever expanding collective and selective tomes of the purple pavilion. But when she was instructed to begin conducting research on the extraction ritual, she immediately realized that the purple wizards had a darker plan. They wanted all of Finn’s power - the power of prophecy.

Calista was no stranger to dark deeds, but Finn was a wizard whom she had a respected. She once considered him both a colleague and an ally. In her view, he hadn’t gone so far as to betray the pavilion. He could have fled in to the arms of one of the other wizard factions and sought protection there. But instead he fled into solitude, keeping his secrets to himself.

This ritual would culminate in the casting of Finn into a shard of the sacred flame. As his mortal body departed this world, the ritual circle would seek to capture his soul with its powers before it could enter the quantum shadow and become embodied within a new form. Calista was not sure of the degree to which some shred of Finn’s consciousness might remain imprisoned with his magic. He had not been condemned to death. He had been condemned to a possibility of eternal torment, a fate even worse than death. Calista couldn’t bring herself to believe that was an appropriate measure to take.

The ritual itself was hubristic enough without considering the ramifications of other wizard factions learning what had transpired. There had always existed something of a gentlemen’s agreement among wizards, although it had weakened over the centuries. They tried to avoid ending each others mortal lives unless absolutely necessary. Every wizard was a powerful being connected to magic which took many forms, but which had all originated at a single source. In a way, killing another wizard was like killing one of your own kin.

Both magical balance and wizard politics were in a delicate equilibrium. Killing a wizard was always a destabilizing event in more ways than one. IF one felt the need to kill another wizard it was generally agreed that they should obtain a consensus at a council consisting of wizards from the various powerful factions - ideally all of them, but at least three. Now the purple pavilion had unilaterally decided to cast one of their own into the sacred flame. If the other factions discovered this dark secret ritual it could unleash a political hellstorm across the Runiverse.

This was a dark turn, even for the purple pavilion, who were the most reckless among all the wizard factions. Their hunger for reaching ever-higher echelons of magic potential appeared insatiable. But even for them, dark magic had been somewhat taboo. They studied it yes, practiced it at times, yes. But to conduct a dark ritual with such power and unpredictable consequences was a perilous development. There was an aspect of cruelty to it that bothered Calista. She was infamous for her ruthlessness, yes, but she did not have a reputation for wanton cruelty.

Beyond the morality of it all, Calista also had to consider her own position. She wasn’t in agreement with the direction that the purple pavilion seemed to be heading. But if Finn was any indication, the pavilion did not look kindly on those who disobeyed its directives. Past acts of loyalty seemed to be worth nothing.

By performing this ritual, Calista would also become something of a liability for the purple pavilion. She would be privy to a valuable secret. What if the purple councilors decided she had become more of a threat than an asset?

Calista was a powerful cosmic mage, but there were many powerful wizards at the command of the pavilion. They knew her strengths intimately, but they also knew her weaknesses. Void disciples could nullify her cosmic attacks, artificers could prepare items or snares specifically designed to penetrate her cosmic shields, and of course it was hard to concentrate on one’s own magic while being bombarded with all sorts of elemental missiles. The more time a wizard had to prepare for combat, the more effective they were. If the purple wizards laid a trap for Calista and caught her unprepared, she would barely stand a chance.

These were dark thoughts and dark times indeed.

Through the seamless and infinite web of the Cosmos, Calista had recently felt the arrival of a distinct new darkness in this plane. But it was a darkness that was well hidden. When she reached out with her cosmic magic, it only cast shadows upon which she hoped to see. All she had were unsettling and disturbing feelings. Her feelings included a sense that this darkness had penetrated the upper echelons of the purple pavilion.

But, she had to push those feelings out of her mind. She had a ritual to conduct. The time drew near. Now, she had to focus.

Calista closed her eyes and placed one hand palm down upon her navel. She held the ulnar ridge of her other hand resting in the space between her eyebrows. She harnessed a lifetime of mastery over the mind in one moment. All distracting thoughts passed away.

She felt the swirling vortex of her cosmic energy awaken, a reservoir as boundless and mysterious as the universe itself. This internal cosmos is a microcosm of the celestial, where stars are born, live, and die in the blink of an eye. It is an ethereal plane where nebulae bloom like cosmic flowers, their colors vibrant with the essence of creation, destruction, and rebirth. This energy was not static; it pulsated through Calista with the rhythm of the cosmos, resonating with the very heartbeat of existence. Being connected to and channeling the raw power of the universe was a miraculous yet terrifying power.

It was a power to which Calista had a deep intuitive connection. Cosmic magic was both a blessing in its beauty and curse in its mind shattering immensity, for it contained the chaotic paradigm of celestial phenomena—black holes that whisper the secrets of infinity, supernovae that illuminate the darkness of possibility, and quasars that beam the light of knowledge across the vastness of space.

All of the universe's complexity, its wonders, and its terrors, were opened within the seven dimensional container of Calista’s metaphysical vessel. This cosmic energy held the potential to allow Calista to weave spells of unimaginable power, to peer across dimensions, and perhaps to manipulate the fabric of reality itself.

Yet, this vessel was more than just a source of power; it was a sanctuary of wisdom. Each spark of energy carried with it the memories of the cosmos, tales of ancient galaxies, and the echoes of the universe's creation. Calista, in her moments of deep meditation, communed with this energy, learned from it, and grew in her understanding of the cosmic dance in which all things played a part with infinite branching and looping possibilities.

The greatest difficulty of cosmic magic was finding a way through the vastness without getting lost in it. The cosmic mage had to reconcile the possibilities of infinity with the practical application of one’s objective in a single speck of time and space. But, with training, it could be done.

Calista was ready. She raised her hands upward and the vessel holding the sacred flame was cast upon the altar. Its radiant light filled the chamber. Asteria paced in a circle around her mistress, lending both her physical protection and the arcane powers of her mesozoic ancestors to aid Calista in her spell casting.

“Bring him in,” she commanded.

Finn was brought down the corridor to the center of the chamber and surrounded by the circle of purple wizards. They all remained cloaked except for Calista who began leading a dark and ancient chant which had not passed the lips of a dark sister in quite some time. As the words escaped her mouth she could feel their weight, the weight of the dark power running in her blood fusing with her cosmic might.

Finn was being held in place through magic cast by the wizards in the circle. As they chanted and moved in unison their power was amplified eightfold. Finn could do nothing but stare stoically into his crystal ball one last time.

With chants that twisted the air and gestures that wove unseen energies, the wizards drew forth shimmering strands of foresight from their captive, manifesting as ethereal lights that danced like stars being born.

Calista was so deep in trance and connection with the mysteries of the universe that there were no conscious thoughts passing through her mind. She was operating at a level of cognition that cannot be described in words.

The ritual neared its zenith and Finn was now barely in possession of his prophetic magic. The time was nearing to cast him into the flame.

But then, there was a disruption. Intruders. Powerful ones.

Calista could not stop the ritual. She was deeply enmeshed with the cosmic realm. Her eyes shown white and radiated with cosmic energy. But, the other wizards of the circle were not so committed.

The intruders were close and spells thundered through the hallways of the pavilion. The sentries at the door of the chamber needed help. A few of the ritual casters peeled off and headed towards the commotion.

Rituals should never be interrupted so suddenly. The effect on the master or mistress of the ritual circle can be profound. Calista felt cosmic rays clatter violently through her psyche. She screamed in shock and pain. Her eyes returned to their normal color and she looked around to take in the scene.

The purple wizards were now pushing forth from the chamber. The intruders had lost the element of surprise and would become more outnumbered with every passing minute.

“A minor disturbance, now, finish the ritual! Do not succumb to distraction!” Echoed a voice inside her skull. It was the voice of the one who commanded her, a purple wizard even more powerful than herself. Some said their hat was such a deep shade of purple that it was nearly black. They was not physically present in the chamber, but it was their dominion. And within a wizard’s dominion they could often see and know anything they wished.

Calista turned back to the circle, now numbering only half as many wizards. She began to tap back into the magic, but something was wrong. Finn was no longer in the center of the chamber. Instead, he stood before the sacred flame. Directly in front of it. And then, he stepped into it. She could do nothing but watch.

The ritual had not concluded. The magic of the circle was still linked to Finn, and now he was consumed by the sacred flame, which spread across her subpercptual cosmic rays like wildfire. She felt the sacred heat approach and nearly pierce her, but the pain made her stronger, a testament to her dark lineage.

Calista summoned her magic and stabilized the conflicting magical forces, temporarily. She clenched her jaw and strained with concentration. She was being forced to channel an immense amount of cosmic energy through her physical vessel. There was only so much she could take. The ritual was unstable and the entire chamber was swirling with combustible magical forces.

Not only was the ritual in danger of failing, it was in danger of turning the entire pavilion into a smoking crater.

“Forget the intruders!” Calista shouted, “Return to the circle or face immediate death!”

Asteria let out a ferocious cry to underscore the command. The purple wizards did as they were told, some appearing nearly instantly through magical means.

As they rejoined the circle Calista felt the magic stabilizing, but she knew that they had missed their opportunity to capture Finn’s powers. Instead, she felt him transform into something new, something much darker. Her commander felt it too.

“Don’t let it get away!”

Calista reached out with her magic to connect to the new entity. She found it, but it disgusted her. Finn had become something dark, putrid, and ominous. Trying to grab onto his essence would be something akin to hugging a mangled decomposing corpse full of slime and maggots. Calista did it anyway. The moment she made contact, terrible visions flooded her mind.

The visions that assaulted Calista were not just images, but experiences, each one more harrowing than the last. She saw through eyes that were not her own, felt emotions that shot terror through her heart. She was trapped within a kaleidoscope of horror, where shadows writhed with malevolent intent and the air was thick with the stench of decay. Apocalyptic scenes flashed before her, amplified and distorted by whatever malevolent transformation Finn had undergone.

She understood why Finn had went into seclusion and why he had stepped into the flame. These visions were too haunting even for most wizards to contend with. They were not just visual images, they were a deep knowing of something terrible. They could only be studied and used by ones who had an utterly cold heart.

And now, Calista felt the flame calling to her too. She wanted to let go of the dark essence, but she could not. She felt it pulling her in. The other wizards of the circle kept chanting, unable to perceive Calista’s distress through her carefully guarded psyche.

But, there was one member of the circle who could feel exactly what Calista was experiencing. It was Asteria. The cockatrice let out a deafening psychic roar that freed Calista from her trance, and she let go of Finn’s essence. The magical link she had created with it was sucked into the flames as Finn’s essence, transformed into a soul, shot upwards and across the cosmic void to enter the quantum shadow.

When the ethereal power of the cosmic energy from the ritual circle collided with the ancient, hallowed blaze of the sacred flame, the resultant force was substantial. The sacred flame, fueled by the cosmic energy, erupted into a dazzling explosion, its radiance casting the glare of one thousand torches.

The air itself seemed to warp and twist. Colors unseen by mortal eyes danced within the heart of the explosion, painting the chamber with hues of cosmic wonder and divine fury. The shockwave that followed was a symphony of destruction, scattering the purple wizards like rag dolls. This magical explosion was a testament to the raw, untamed power at the intersection of cosmic infinity, dark ritual, and sacred fire, a reminder of the beauty and danger inherent in the fusion of such formidable forces.

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