Light Mage Vatar of the Ice
Prologue
Out in the far and frozen reaches of the Tundra, well beyond where any wizard hale of mind would ever venture - lest they would be divested of all their exteremities and likely their sanity - there is said to lay a land made entirely of Ice.
An entire city, in fact, is rumored to lay nestled there in the permanently frozen landscape - its crystalline domes and spires reflecting and refracting the light into scintillating rainbows, cold as the Void yet bright enough to blind. And what's more, if that were not enough hyperbole, due to a geographic phenomenon unknown to me, the sun is said never to set - bathing the permanent ice in brilliant permanence.
I am not unwilling to admit that such fantsatical readings, despite their incredulous nature, move me to fantasy - to wonder and reflect. Should one make it thus far, and bein posession of the right tools or appropriate aptitudes, just what sorcery would be possible? What accomplishments may be within grasp for anyone able to undertake this seemingly impossible task of harnessing such endless light, this limitless source of refracted power?
The outermost layer on the seemingly flat and crystalline landscape was deceptively thin, in some pleces thin as hair, in others thicer than a hand. The trick he had learned, the way to avoid plunging down to unknown icy depths of darkness, was knowing precisely were to put your foot next. The damned process was painstaking, the difference between a not-so-swift death and a solid step indistiguishable until you applied your full weight.
Thank the light Vatar was not beyond such things as having his familiar burrow deep below in search of the firmer ground, and Flop was certainly capable. The chalk white rabbit would be near indistinguishable to the snow, save for a pair of inquisitive eyes and a moist snout. On occasion he had crawled forward on his belly, inch by inch as if he were some ancient stranded sea-beast clawing for purchase. of course, to get his bearings instantly he could always open his eye, though the situation was nowhere to near dire enough to brave such perils. Out here in this flux such an act would be unpredictable at best, at worst burning him to a cinder in a heartbeat - a mile wide crater his final mark on the Runiverse.
Idly flipping a card out from his sleeve he ran his thumb along the edge, ace of spades thank the Runes, only to have it disappear just as swiftly. Standing completely still, he focused on his breathing while taking measure of the ambient hues he could sense dancing accross the barren landscape. Yes... this will do, he mused as his fingers started an intricate dance at his sides - Flop's ears perking up as he too froze. Allowing himself to grasp for just a trickle of his magic, he carefully opened himself up to his aligment with Brimstone, the smell of sulphur suddenly all around him - warming the air.
Preparing himself to unleash the spell he had prepared, practiced and honed for months intended for this precise time and place, he suddenly felt a tremor below followed by a sharp crack!.
"Oh dear," he managed before the ice gave way beneath him, opening up like the maw of a giant fiend, swallowing familiar and wizard both.
Sliding, tumbling and then falling, Vatar desperately reached for purchase only to slam face first into unrelenting ice, flipping onto his back and sliding off - and falling once again. Eye still closed, throwing caution to the wind he threw everything he had into manifesting a sphere of fire around him and Flop, immediately giving him some peace from the constant bombardment of shards of ice. Shoving his familiar into the soft protection of his coat was all he managed before he once again collided with ice, this time halting their wild and uncontrolled descent.
Ouch, he thought groggily, feeling his consciousness slip, ...that hurt.
Entered by: 0x566a…C45e and preserved on chain (see transaction)
