When Magic's All You Know {Interactive Story)

[dove.]

Summon something to open it!
Also great job I was inspired to start a Interactive of my own

[Piefan]

(summoning only works for animals, btw. crowbar-summoning's not gonna work. that would require conjuration, which this character doesn't have.)

[starsailor]

Summon a snake or any other hard animals which can act as a crowbar. im really sorry snakey. please dont die

[Ice580]

Summon an animal to break the door down, then. Or find a stick and enchant it.

[dove.]

Enchant something to open it maybe then?

[Piefan]

You wave off your creature, which flies eagerly away to who-knows-where. These things always seem to disappear as soon as they're out of sight - literally. Most people don't bother with abjuring them, and some live ridiculously long lives, so it's surprising that you don't see hideous grotesques running around the neighbourhood more often.

Frowning, you pick up a stick and attempt to enchant it to act as a crowbar, but the Earth resists. Typical. Wizards are significantly more versatile than druids - at least, the adults are, as teenagers you're about equal - but the druids do have their own niche, inaccessible to those outside their faction. You can't control plants, or life, or anything that was alive recently. Corpses and dead twigs still work for you.

You're not willing to run around trying to find a stick that's been dead for long enough, though, so you- actually, no, you'd rather do that than summon another creature. That'd be a lot more practical, for sure, but your brain's been fried too much today to go through the whole process all over again.

You stand, brush off your dress (not that it helps much), and walk quickly around the field, picking up the many fallen sticks from the trees surrounding the museum. Once you're satisfied that you have enough, you crouch next to the trapdoor and extend wisps of magic toward each in turn, until at last you find one that doesn't resist. Closing both hands around it, you begin to cast.

While you're not sure what exactly makes a crowbar so fitting, you don't really have a choice but to make educated guesses. Curved tips, flattened body, more resistance to bending and breaking. Minutes pass, but Enchantment is significantly simpler than Summoning, and you're done soon enough.

Slipping the stick gently under the trapdoor, you shove it downwards. The trapdoor's stuck pretty firmly, and your muscles strain with effort. Stars above, you really should've listened to Atlas when he suggested working out more, but no-

Right then, the trapdoor pops open.

You rub your aching shoulders, internally swearing never to do this again. Your arms still hurt, though, as you use a quick spell to get your crowbar glowing dimly. Still, you can't see much beyond a thick wooden ladder leading downwards into the darkness.

Grabbing a stick from your pile, you drop it into the passageway. Only a second or two pass before it thunks softly against what you assume to be metal.

You really shouldn't have sent your creature away. It could probably help here, with the added bonus of you not having to go through the process of creating an entire new being. Still, you doubt it could do much, what with its limited intelligence.

You raise your head, having seen a flicker of light in the corner of your eye. A small flame dances in a shrub, and you back away, preparing to either run or scream. Every building is packed closely enough together that any fire would spread quickly enough to destroy half the neighbourhood in an hour, especially compounded with the ample tinder around you. You're neither skilled enough nor willing to deal with that alone.

Not that you have much time to choose what to do next: almost too quick to see but for the glowing trail it leaves behind, the fire jumps out at you.

Oh my stars.

You scramble backward, terrified, and try to get a good look at the flames - there's no way these are normal. And you're right, too. They seem to have formed themselves into the shape of a bird, which is completely floating above the ground in front of you. Magic? Probably. But no single magician, or group of magicians for that matter, could summon this thing. Not unless it was Anastasia herself.

Never mind that, though. You doubt you could fight this thing, and it's lunging at you right now.

You have approximately two seconds to decide what to do.

Alt solution: push it. Push the trapdoor. That's it. Jay's been pulling it this whole time, but not pushing.

Nah, not really. Doesn't matter, anyway - I would've accepted almost any solution. The trapdoor was just there to serve as a trigger for the phoenix. Which may seem unreasonable, but it does have its motives.

(i just remembered that a lot of you probably don't know the mythos of this world, which is probably because I never elaborated on a vast majority of it - like the "Anastasia and Daniel" thing. Still, I'll probably be making an almanac of everything I did reveal. I stuffed a lot of worldbuilding into the first story, and I don't wanna explain all that again. D:)

[Ice580]

Run. Run as fast as your legs can carry you.

[Piefan]

You're practically (fine, literally) shrieking as you flee, the fire-bird bolting after you. It flies - or floats, or does something - faster than you can run, but it seems to be far less agile, slowing down whenever it comes to a turn, and completely pausing when it comes to sharper ones. You take advantage of this as best you can, but thanks to the layout of these streets, that's harder than it sounds.

The many passersby around you turn to stare at the muddy teenage wizard, shrieking as she runs from a flaming bird, but none reach out to help you. For a moment you almost think it's gone, somehow, and everyone's just confused about you running around like a maniac, but no - you can feel its heat against your skin, even without looking back.

You consider going home straight, but you're wearing heels still; they're thick enough and enchanted enough that they aren't likely to break even when running. Regardless, they're ridiculously unwieldy, and you have no intention of running two miles in these. But- there, the city hall! It's crowded, and a freaking fire-bird is bound to cause enough mayhem that they have to do something.

You enchant the dress, making it just clean enough that you don't look like you've been romping through the grass like a maniac. And then you barrel through the entrance, paying no mind to the guards stationed outside. The cool, humid environment feels oddly calming, now. You wipe the sweat off your brow and promptly pass out - almost, at least. You're close to just crumpling to the ground completely, but you settle instead for leaning against the wall, panting heavily.

"Uh. Jay. The heck? You okay?"

It's Rosetta, you realise, standing in front of you. She looks understandably concerned. You wonder where Renee is - you've always seen the two together, and you've almost started seeing them as a single entity. Ignoring her, for a moment, you glance back. The fire-bird's bright glow seems to have faded as it floats in front of the door (the guards stare at it, but how does one fight literal flames?) before it disappears entirely, bursting to ashes. It seems to have realised your plan.

"I'm fine. But... Are you still wearing a sweater? This party's formal wear."

"Anything can be formal if it's unreasonably expensive." She shrugs, flicking a hand dismissively. "But that doesn't answer my main question. The heck?"

"It's a long story. I doubt you'd want to hear it."

"I have a lot of time. Try me."

You nod, giving her a brief, vague, run-down on what happened. It's hard to keep much of it a secret when she saw the bird, but you don't feel like being detailed. It's the magical, mental, and physical overexertion, maybe, or there's something about her that just doesn't lend itself to detailed discussions. She seems curious, still, by the time you're done, but in truly un-Rosetta-like fashion, she holds back from demanding details. Maybe she could replaced by a changeling.

"Wow," she remarks, after a brief pause. "That's... really cool. Are you going home now, or? There's not really much else to do; everyone decided they wanted to be boring as hell this year, apparently. And you missed the orchestra."

"Yeah, in regards to heading back. I'm tired. Probably going straight to sleep."

Now that you think of it, is there anything you need to do first? You have the time, no doubt.

(don't worry about missing anything tonight. The option's mainly there as a bonus, of sorts, if anyone wants to do some simple stuff or make plans for tomorrow or read up on the history of this world and obtain an infodump.)

[Ice580]

Info Dump. Plz.

[Piefan]

Weary, you make your way home through the streets. Your mother answers the door, already in her nightwear, and you greet her as you enter. You don't bother lingering downstairs for long, though - you have things to do.

In your (well, the whole of the family's) study are probably hundreds of books, arranged in messy rows. Your father used to constantly organise them by genre and title - or try, at least. He's long given up, though, and you have to dig through the broad, wooden shelves for some time before you find something even remotely useful. The Complete Guide to Driyla's History. You've read it before, but you don't think your groggy mind can handle anything other than a revision.

You head to your room and collapse upon your bed. Lying on your stomach, you flick the book open to a random page and begin to read:

Doubtless, every member of civilised society, and likely those outside it, have heard of the two founders of magic, both arcane and druidic. I shall thus not dwell on it for overly long. A long time ago - estimates vary wildly, from a single century to millennia - there lived two, in harmony, whom we now call Anastasia (arcane) and Daniel (druidic). Though wildly different in personality, one thing they had in common was their curiosity: the former because she was eager to learn, and the latter because he enjoyed adventure.

The discovery of magic was a gradual process, and it is unknown how it began - spell by spell, they learned its fundamentals and studied how it worked. (Depending on the sources, this tends to vary; sometimes Anastasia did the bulk of the work, including learning more about druidic power. Other times, the two kept to their own areas and discussed it little.) Eventually, they mastered their respective areas of magic.

Time passed - I, again, shall not describe what happened during this period here, for that is not the point of this chapter - until they decided to create a being together. This creature would spread harmony and cheer to the world, bringing good tidings wherever it went.

Before this, I feel the need to add, there was no such thing as Summoning: Anastasia was completely incapable of creating anything resembling a living being. She mastered all the schools of magic, ultimately, but this one came later in her life. Thus, Daniel had to provide the 'soul' for the creature, while she created its body. Even after this, when she discovered how to create living things, she was unable to summon truly sentient creatures.

And so they created the Phoenix - a beautiful bird of flame and light. Where it went, all conflict ended, and people acquired a sense of togetherness and harmony.

But, it seems, friendship between a druid and a wizard was not to be.

The two began to fight - small disagreements, at first, escalating in severity until they were on the verge of murdering each other. For reasons still unclear, they grew to hate each other with all of their hearts, and one day, Anastasia quite literally tried to kill him.

He fought back, perhaps more vehemently than was necessary. The ground shook; incredibly strong winds threatened to send her flying. Following is what could have been best described as a one-man war, taking a major toll on the environment around them. He tried to defend nature as much as he could, but that was a lower priority as compared to

And the land shifted, and people died. You recognise all of this well enough, and this particular book seems to have a selective need to describe everything in overly florid detail. It was written by multiple authors, if you recall correctly, which helped little with the inconsistent tone and style. You skip ahead by a couple pages.

at last, a single man emerged, risking death in the midst of the pair's fighting. Spells and stones flew about all around him, but he stood bravely, until at last they paused to give him a brief audience.

"Please," pleaded he, "you're tearing everything apart. You've toppled more empires than I care to name. If you must fight, can't you keep it under control? Flee to an island somewhere and not disturb us?"

They realised that he was right - they had not noticed the side effects of their battles, caught up as they were in the thrill of it all. They agreed, left for the land we know now as Driyla, and continued to fight.

The Phoenix, through it all, remained in hiding, frightened by the hatred the two had developed for each other. It was some time before it appeared to Daniel for the first time in years, having always viewed him as the more pacifistic of the two, and pleaded: "Do not fight. Surrender, and reason out your differences."

He agreed, however reluctantly, and ventured to find Anastasia. This was not particularly difficult, taking barely a minute before he spotted her preparing her spells. He approached, bare of armour or any form of protection (a display of submission, and one that many have criticised for being a tactical and logical failure).

In a twist that has surely come as a surprise to exactly two beings, ever, she attacked.

She had grown incomprehensibly strong over the course of the war, and without the aid of his powers, he had no hope of surviving such a strike. He died almost instantly.

The Phoenix had been in hiding through this, and upon hearing Daniel's cry, shot from its spot underneath an overhang. As it approached, she felt its magic working on her, and she truly understood what she had done. Grief overtook her, and she wept.

For years then she wandered the land with little purpose. When at last age caught up to her, and she too died, her magic flowed to the Phoenix, the (live) one she had loved most. And it took Daniel's, too, for it had no desire to let his power rot within his cadaver, great though he was.

Then it burst into ashes and distributed the magic it had gathered throughout the adult population of the world...


***

When you wake up, the book's on your bedroom floor, and you're... Still wearing the dress fron yesterday, apparently. Wow, your mother's going to murder you for messing this thing up.

There's no school, and little else worth leaving your bed for, today, so you lie on your back and ponder yesterday's events. Having read the book, the best guess you can come up with is that the Phoenix came somehow to life, or a summoner discovered a biological loophole of some sort that allowed him to create a flaming bird. Neither of which seem particularly plausible.

Stepping out of your room, you change into more comfortable clothing and shower. You head downstairs and greet your father, who's sitting idly at the dining table with coffee in hand.

"Hey," you say; he returns the greeting. He seems more occupied with his drink and his thoughts than he is with you, though, so you don't bother saying anything more. He's not neglectful, by any definition of the word, but you've never been close to him.

You're just about to leave when he speaks. "You got a package." His voice is flat. "Here." He gestures at a parcel opposite him. That's strange - you're primarily an introvert, with few people who have any reason to send anything to you. You walk upstairs, tearing apart the wrapping.

You enter your room and sit cross-legged on the floor. Inside, taped to the top of a dark blue box, is a message, scrawled on a torn piece of paper:


Sorry we sicced a phoenix on you and tracked down your house! I don't know you at all, but I figured you'd be the adventurous type, so we got you this in apology. It's nothing much. Just some equipment. Choose one; it locks up after that. I'd appreciate if you dropped it outside your home once you're done, but we still know where you live, so it's okay otherwise.

-Shadow


Frowning, you pick up the box and turn it over, examining it. The thick layer of paint makes it difficult to tell what material it is, though you doubt it matters; it seems to be enchanted with anti-magic. A thick crack splits the top into two sections, each of which have a round, white button. Under each button is a single word: for the left, "Reality", and the right, "Something else".

You suppose you're meant to press one of them, but which?