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 The Sunstrider Academy of Magical Artistry

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Magyk
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PostSubject: The Sunstrider Academy of Magical Artistry   Tue Nov 23, 2010 4:28 am

Part 1: Arrival

The great golden carriage thundered along the paved road and through the great gateway, entering a courtyard surrounded on all sides by high windows of clear glass, dissected vertically by a slice of royal blue glass. Light silken banners bearing the crest of the academy, along with the crests of several of Silvermoon's noble houses, hung from brackets in the walls, swaying gently in the breeze. The air was punctured by the heady smell of incense that made the young man who climbed out of the carriage slightly sleepy. The thirty-four year old Magyk Sunwing looked around the courtyard, wishing now that he had chosen the less elaborate robes his mother had suggested he wear that morning, as he caught sight of several boys looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and bemusement. He was spared any further embarrassment as a second elf hopped lightly from the carriage, in even more ornate robes of spun gold and sapphire silk. Lord Dorrien Sunwing looked every bit an older version of his eldest son, and had grown accustomed to the other Quel'dorei staring at the amount of opulence the Lord Sunwing poured into his attire. He stepped forward, savouring the atmosphere of the academy that had not changed since he attended the school, his cane striking the marble below him with a satisfying click with every other step. Magyk, slightly stupefied by the scent of magic in the air, and staring up at the serpentine 'S' emblazoned on one of the banners, ran to catch up with his father as he entered the Sunstrider Academy through the the ancient silver-bound mahogany doors and into the cool recess of the atrium.

Magyk physically stopped, staring up in wonder at the forest canopy that seemingly comprised the roof of the great chamber. Seven great trees stood as sentinels against the marble wall, their ancient bark a host of intricate carvings that generations of previous students had used to declare their love for another, correspond with other students, or in one case, to announce that 'Jorium Sunbreaker loves the Amani'. Magyk was brought back to his senses as the sound of his father's cane faded, and once more he ran to catch up with him, as his father's cloak slid around another doorway and into a long corridor lined with portraits of important Quel'dorei from ages long since passed. Magyk's heart began to race as more and more he recognised features in the paintings that mirrored his own countenance, his nose upon the face of a beautiful Magistrix, his jaw painted onto a well-muscled Farstrider. Students were still staring at his father and himself as Magyk loyally followed him through a door, upon which was inscribed in solid silver letters 'Magister Shar'lil Duskspur, Headmaster'.

“You look tired, old friend.”
“I am tired. I thought managing the apprentices was trouble, you should try refereeing the staff...”
Dorrien chuckled lightly, and looked over at his son, who had been ignoring the adults for the most part, and was currently looking out through the wide window into the beautifully manicured gardens, where apprentices were dotted around on the lawn, chatting, reading and writing. In the distance, between ten towering marble pillars arranged in a circle, several apprentices were floating through the air on silver discs that shone in the sunlight, lances of fire and ice, shadow and arcane magic speeding through the air between them. Magyk's head tilted slightly in curiosity as one the apprentices was violently blasted from his disc and fell, robes flaring upwards, towards the ground and lay still. He jumped slightly as his father spoke beside him.
“Dysk. Wonderful game to watch, but I was never interested in actually playing it, for obvious reasons. Come on, time to get you settled in. Shar'lil.” The elder Sunwing nodded to Magister Duskspur, whilst the younger bowed to the headmaster of the academy. His headmaster, Magyk reminded himself as he dogged his father's footsteps once more, through the ancient halls of knowledge. He tried to ignore the pointing and whispering that so many of the apprentices felt was their duty, and entered a beautiful hall off the atrium. A thousand impossibly thin filaments of a glass-like substance sprouted from the floor, supporting stairs that spirally gracefully up to the higher levels. Delicate threads of white marble and silver wove between rails and stairs like branches of a climbing vine. They looked too frail to hold the weight of a man – and probably would be if they were not strengthened with magic. And in the centre, an enormous marble edifice, a glorious representation of Dath'remar Sunstrider, his arms held high in adoration of the glowing sphere of arcane magic that floated unaided above his head, and above that, high above the glass domed ceiling, the sun. Light bounced off silver and refracted through glass, the room shining in a glowing testament to Quel'dorei dominance over the arcane. Magyk mounted the staircase gently, gaining confidence that the thin sheets of glass would not shatter beneath him with each step.

Beyond the hall, much marble and silver followed, blue flames in great braziers, despite the ample light being cast through the high windows, allowing as much sunlight to infuse the academy as possible. Magyk was torn between the commanding views over the emerald beauty of Eversong on his right and the rooms to his left, where lectures and demonstrations of magic were taking place. A stray bolt of crystallised water shot out of the room just ahead of the Sunwing's and shattered the pale blue window opposite. Magyk watched the glass with interest as the tiny shards of glass halted in mid-air, before beginning to fly back into place, reforming the single sheet of glass in one smooth motion. Magyk's father, however, took the time to look for the source of the loose magic, and found it in a small Elven girl already being berated by her tutor for her aim. Satisfied that the young girl would concentrate harder in future, Dorrien gestured to his son and carried on walking, until both reach a long, curved room, with seven beds of highly polished mahogany spaced evenly along the longer wall. Three were already occupied, two by boys that looked to be Magyk's age or thereabouts, the one closest to the door by a young man who looked up from his book, nodded, smiling, at the newcomers, and returned to his reading. The two younger boys stood and bowed deeply to the newcomers, to whom Dorrien nodded politely, and proceeded to rap his cane across the older boys knees.
“Respect your elders Dawnrunner, you're not a Magister just yet.”
The young Halendor Dawnrunner, only a year from graduation, stood and bowed to his Lordship. Dorrien noted the sarcastic smile, but said nothing.
“Now, this is my son, and you'll be showing him around I suppose? Hmm...Well step forward, lad, don't be shy.” Dorrien stepped to the side and nudged Magyk forward, who stumbled slightly as he stepped further into the room, smiling nervously. He shook hands with Halendor, glancing at the book still in his hand, 'Subjugation with Sorcery, a theoretical guide'. Before he could enquire in which bed he would be sleeping, he heard the familiar tap, tap, tap of polished silver on marble, and turned to see his father striding away down the corridor, his sapphire robes and long golden hair flaring behind him.
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Magyk
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PostSubject: Re: The Sunstrider Academy of Magical Artistry   Thu Jan 13, 2011 3:17 am

Part 2: The start of the road

The Sunstrider Academy of Magical Artistry was a place overflowing with magical learning, as Magyk Sunwing found out quickly. His first morning was marred by the measly bread and water set upon the table in the dining hall, and it wasn't until much later that he discovered that he would have to learn to conjure more wholesome meals, or transfigure his own rations into more appetising foodstuffs. Similarly, and much to Magyk's shock, he had had to learn quickly how to heat water, which he found out to his cost the first time he visited the bathing hall and dived into the frigid water in the tub. Life at the academy began as a series of brutal lessons such as these, and it was up to the students themselves to master these basic skills, else they would find life hard.

The lectures and demonstrations were wondrous to behold, but the corrupting dangers of magic were ever present. Twice in Magyk's first year, apprentices were enticed by the powers of Demonology, seeking alliances with demons and power over life and death through the dark art of Necromancy. These short rebellions by the students were put to a quick and violent end, as the most seasoned Magister's showed no remorse in protecting the many by sacrificing the few students whose minds had been warped with promises of power.

Several years later...

“Sunwing! Get on with your work!” The cold voice rang through the room, and the quiet scratching of quills paused as the other students looked up at blushing face of the forty-four year old Magyk Sunwing, who up until that point had been sending a succession of quills, ink bottle and rolls of parchment whizzing around the table in front of him. The stationary collection shuddered to a halt, Magyk unfurling the parchment and continuing his essay on the theory of portals, not before winking the young girl opposite.

Ten minutes later, as most of the young magi made their way to the great dining hall on the ground floor, Magyk was climbing the enchanted staircases to the top floor, where most of the studies of the Magister's who taught at the Academy were. He rounded a corner and entered a beautifully appointed hall in which a tiered water garden stood. The gentle sound of the miniature waterfalls reached Magyk’s ears and, whilst looking at the interesting flora flanking the small river, he tripped on the hem of his robe. Magyk tumbled forward and entered the pond at the lower end of the large shrubbery with a large splash. Sopping wet, Magyk clawed his way out of the cold pool and crawled a short distance on his knees before standing and brushed the long curtain of blonde hair now plastered to his face to one side. Now, he saw, he was being observed by Magistrix Hyria Everdawn. Widely regarded as the most beautiful of the lecturer’s at the academy, she was also one of the kindest. Whilst other Magi would have scorned him for being foolish enough to fall over in the first place, or even laughed in Magyk’s face. Hyria Everdawn did neither, instead enquiring whether the young apprentice was alright.
“Nothing twenty minutes in front of the common room fire won’t cure milady, thank you.” Magyk smiled nervously as the Magistrix laughed in the high, crystalline way that made the hairs on the back of Magyk’s head tingle. Everdawn looked around and, after seeing no one, lifted her arms and traced a graceful pattern in the air. Magyk felt his robes crisp and dry, his hair dried out with a wave of heat that was almost uncomfortable.
“That never happened, Sunwing. Now, do you not have somewhere to be? Don’t let me detain you.” Everdawn smiled again, her icy blue eyes alight, reflecting the sun streaming through the windows. She turned and began descending the stairs. Magyk sighed and watched her go, and it was several seconds and three shouts later that his tutor grasped his attention, having opened his study door and beckoned to Magyk without success. Magyk hurried through the open door and stood before his master’s desk.

“You got the message then, good. Take a seat.” Magyk sat on the cushioned chair opposite Magister Dor'ahil, a venerable magician and adept of almost all of the schools of magic. His long silver hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, his eyes aflame with sapphire light. His voice deep and cultured, he was a man who rarely spoke his mind, rather only using the numerous facts that he was so good at accumulating.
“Now that you've mastered the basics of magic as a whole, it's now time for you to choose what you'd like to specialise in. Now, you must continue with Evocation, that's compulsory until your fifth decade, and I think it'd be a good idea to focus yourself on Conjuration a little more, since you will no doubt be following in your father's footsteps. I also suggest that you...” Magyk allowed his thoughts to drift away. He already knew which paths he wanted to tread in later life, and whilst he appreciated everyone's apparent concern for his future welfare, he already knew exactly what he wanted to spend his life doing. Magyk's gaze gravitated to the large window behind his master and watched as a small flock of dragonhawk's glided past, content in their own freedom. He caught sight of the Dysk arena in the distance, today empty as revision and examinations took precedence over sports. Before long, Magyk looks back at Magister Dor’ahil, who had not looked up from his notes and was unaware that his words were falling on deaf ears. Finally he looked up.
“Does that sound alright?”
“Perfect, sir, however, might I enquire as to whether there were any positions on the Dysk teams?” Dor’ahil’s eyebrow rose. “You cannot deny, sir, that it would help with my apparent lack of concentration, as well as helping to improve my coordination with my Evocation spells...”
Magyk could see the Magister’s thought processes through his expressions, from considerations to the safety of the noble’s son to the extra esteem he would receive from his colleagues at having his apprentice on the Dysk team. Finally he looked Magyk in the eye.
“Very well.”
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Magyk
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PostSubject: Re: The Sunstrider Academy of Magical Artistry   Sat Jan 15, 2011 5:03 am

Part 3: The game begins

Dysk. A brutal game, comprising of forty-nine players mounted on silver rune-etched discs powered by the players own power, it was the ultimate test of a student’s reflexes, power and knowledge. Seven teams of seven flew high above the heptagon of silver veined marble, working together to beat the other teams by knocking them off their discs through any means possible, although extra points were given for style and the amount of magic expended on the manoeuvre. It was common to arrange team alliances before games; however it was also common for these unions to be broken within seconds on the shrill starting whistle. The objective of being the last team with surviving members had long been changed by the staff to a less final approach, due to the high amounts of complaints from parents as well as from the Magisterial Government as the dwindling number of apprentices. Whilst the amounts of deaths had been drastically reduced, it was still possible if a student fell to the marble floor hard without the Magister’s saving them.
Seventy feet above the ground, Magyk Sunwing swerved sharply to avoid a hail of crystallised water, sending several lances of fire back at his attacker, who, confident in his pursuit of the younger magi, had failed to erect any shielding, and thus was hurled from his disc, engulfed in flame. Magyk stopped to see his temporary rival fall to the ground, coming to rest gently on the ground with a well-timed levitation nexus from Magistrix Everdawn. Assured in his opponents safety, apart from some singed hair, he sped off, beginning his hunt for another player. As was usual, forty-nine players arose from the ground, and within the first minute, a little less than half had fallen to powerful spells from the older students, enchantments that radiated out from their discs, felling the nearest adversary’s with the raw arcane.

Magyk flew around one of the seven large towers that provided an elevated view of the arena for staff and older students, and was distracted for a moment by finding that he was hovering next to the large banner hanging from the tower, his silver Sunwing crest emblazoned across a field of sapphire silk that fluttered gently in the breezes caused by the many disc shooting past them. A cry from above announced that one of the opposing teams had been defeated. Magyk looked across the expanse to see only half a dozen other players remaining, from three different teams. What he did not observe was the eighth player, who chose this moment to hurtle around the tower from above and launch several bolts of shadow at him. Whilst safe behind his shield from the corrupting darkness of the magic, the physical punch knocked Magyk from his disc, and he began his rapid descent towards the ground, his hand flailing as his whirling robes blocked the view of his disc spinning to the ground below him.

Magyk’s hand caught the long bar that held his House banner aloft, tearing the fixture from the tower wall. The great standard began to fall as Magyk’s vision was restored by his robes righting themselves again, and he saw with great delight his would be slayer was hovering below him, his back to the tower as he held his arms wide for the audience to applaud his cunning, clearly unmoved at the possible deaths of his opponents. For the first time that day, Magyk smirked, readying his feet to push him from the tower wall and into his adversary. Still unaware of his impending failure, the older boy was still distracted by the praise he was receiving from his admirers. Magyk drew level with the boy, and pushed himself from the tower wall and the failing banner with his arms and legs, careering into his foes back with his full weight. The boy’s arms span as he tried to keep his balance on the edge of his silver disc, and with a smile, Magyk’s hand found the small of the boy’s back and gave a gentle shove, the older boy teetering for a further moment before equilibrium was lost and he fell over the side of his own disc, it’s loyalty now Magyk’s, who sped off to help the only other member of his team from the dual attacks from the two that were left.

Two boys in sapphire robes, one in emerald and a girl in amber, weaved spells around each other, attempting to gain the upper hand. Whilst the cerulean clad boys had the advantage of training together, and therefore knowing each other’s styles, the skill of the girl and the power of the boy in the other groups, and their tenuous unspoken agreement to defeat the blue team, was an even match. Magyk’s remaining teammate glanced at him. “Attack, Sunwing, with as much power as you dare!” Magyk obliged, conjuring several bolts of fire and ice, knowing his partner was protecting them both with his uncanny skill at producing shields. Magyk unleashed his power at the nearest enemy, the boy in green, who, not expecting such a show of force from a single challenger, cried out as his shield failed and he began to fall to the slabs below. The girl in amber robes looked on in shock as Magyk’s teammate dropped their shield and hurled a fistful of flames into the girl’s chest, the power in the spell blasting her from her platform. Magyk’s teammate looked at him as they descended slowly to the ground and the crowd erupted into applause. “Not bad Sunwing....not bad at all.” Magyk smirked as he shook hands with the older boy. “Thank you Rommath. One tries...”
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