Atelier Amist the Willows.

<font color='#000080'>((A returning point for Palasaj.  This post is in relation to movng into the Academy.))

"Deleter" Novox, Retrieval.
(Day:  59th )
(Quarter:  Tessera )
(Year:  Year 81377

A haze of darkness, the area hazing in a heat wave from a small distortion in the air.  A shadow slightly emerged from the haze, then took full form.  It stood up from a curled up ball of darkness, standing upright with a rectangular shaped object over its shoulder.  Hair, also solid shadow, flickered with the windy elements where the haze stayed.  Obviously, it was raining in this part of Ajita.  The figure completed its form, allowing the shadow to fall from its body.  Like a curtain being drawn, Palasaj showed himself from the traveling spell.  He wore a gray uniform with golden buttons running up the top, a stiff collar, and heavy black boots.  It too was a product of his shape shifting.  After the haze fell, Palasaj wobbled slightly in his steps.

I can't make a habit of using that spell all of the time.  It feels like I've been running all day.

He caught his breath, letting the heavy Bastard Sword's tip rest on the ground with the hilt in his hand.  His hair was plastered over his face, covering the dark left eyes with wet hair and streaming rainwater.  He brought the other hand to his hilt, the blade clicking inside its casing slightly and wet roped slapping on the ground.  The rain become more intense, almost as thick as a heavy fog.  It cut the visibility greatly, so much that Palasaj couldn't see his hands in front of his own face.  The lightning struck loudly, streaming past clouds and
dragging heavy bolts against the ground.  Luminated trees, scattering animals, and Palasaj's blade shined with the atmospheric light with every strike, followed by the reverb of booming thunder.

Now, what were the words for the case?

Lowering his head in contemplation, Palasaj gave a quiet grunt and pointed his sword towards a knotted tree, twisting with vines and a swirling bird's nest.

"Thyf thesalv, ni synr!"

His voice echoed slightly, even sustaining past the thunder.  The orb of his blade swirled with a shadowy haze inside, giving the blade only a smoky glow.  An almost threadlike stream of light flew from the sword's hilt, beaming straight inside the tree.  Reality seemed to distort, time only around the tree slowing down with sluggish raindrops heavily splashing against the ground as the rest of the area continued to be tacked with cloudy tears.  He walked through the heavy falling rain, swiping a hand through the air.

I never get tired of seeing this...

The water collected inside his hand, not even sticking to his hand.  They came into his palm like small, clear beads, slowly molding into one larger globular shape of water.  He released the water, letting it flop through the air like a jellyfish in the sea.  As Palasaj walked into the distorted area, seemingly phasing into the tree, reality changed back to its previous state.  The large glob of water splashed heavily on the ground with smaller beads of ice bouncing on the ground.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>((OOC:  ~~points at Principal Spycee.~~  I'll go ahead and get this out of the way while I wait for you to post on the other thread.))

IC:

Gray and bleak, only monoliths of gravel shards of ancient ages hovering over th ground, some embedded into the ground and struggling to come loose.  It was a place of Fronima freed, an unstable land in which the occupants of the old Atelier once practiced their bastardizations of magic, spells which should have never been concieved.  The gray plains almost completely blended with the bleak, occasionally lightning and blanketed with swirling clouds in a dead sky.  Palasaj set foot in the dead lands, dust flying from his feet with every step.  His black strands of hair flew confidantly in the wind, a gust so hard that the man needed to cover his face with his arm. His gray uniform fluttered in the wind as well, pants legs flapping against his calfs.  His possession was in plain sight.

"I'll pick it up and be done with this place.  I hope that Miss Hart doesn't think me tardy."

The object was a simple, large paper parosel.  Its surface was painted with strange characters, each of the 8 panels with a different color, representing 8 elements.  The cap on the top was a large, black cone-shapped object, which had matching symbols on its sides.  He picked up the floating fan and opened it, moving his hand slowly up the black pole.  tattered scrolls attached to brown strings fell out, dangling from the top of the fan.

"All accounted for..."

He cloased the fan and turned around, immediately back to the heavy rain of the dark forest.  He stared at the sky, pondering what to do next.

Just as I thought.  I'll have to return to the academy now.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>Failure.  It would not work at all.  No matter how loud he shouted, no matter how hard he concentrated.  His mental prowess was exhausted since trying to invoke Pagujs .  His arms were held forward with small wisps of Fronima rising from his fingertips, barely able to gather enough even to change the shape of his eyes.  Palasaj was breathing as if he just finished an endurance run, and his face was slightly blushed.  The rain lightened up on the forested area, allowing a bit of sunlight show.  One hour and thirty minutes was coming close to passing.  He held the parasol and Bastard Sword in his hand, but dropped the parasol without much reserve left.

“Damnit!  I knew it was taxing, but I was certain that I could handle more than two in a short amount of time.  I definitely need more training."

He cursed angrily, yet with reserve in his voice.  The dark, princely pendragon morph threw his sword into the ground, slicing his evil blade into the ground, letting it sink into the wet earth.  Palasaj crossed his arms again, uniform soaked with rain and his hair now thoroughly soaked, splattered all over his face and chest.  The man lifted his arm slightly, flicking his fingers towards the parasol and squinting his eyes.

“I supposeÂ…should just wait here until I can return.  Maybe the spell was too much for me to think I had complete control over.  Of course, that is one of the main reasons that IÂ’m trying to get back to my studies."

The parasol floated slowly into the air, opening on its own and hovering with an unknown source spinning it at a slow cadence.  Every few seconds, the chime of rings rang from the parasol, slightly making one of the colored characters glow their respective hues.  All of the scrolls were secured to the spines of the parasol.

I see you are frustrated, young master.

A voice, soft like a young motherÂ’s and able to carry across the splattering rain emitted from the rotating parasol, the character of Water became brighter with its reverb.

“Yes.  I believe that my own brash actions have put me in this situation, Gujutyl.  I am sorry that I must leave you in this pointless state of rest."

The rain does not bother me, young master.  You will, however, catch cold if you do not stay dry.


Gujutyl, the parasol, hovered over Palasaj to protect him from rain, although he was as soaked as he could get.  The man sat down with his legs crossed, retrieving his blade from the ground.  He simply fell into meditation for the time being, closing his eyes and resting while his Bastard Sword glowed with a black aura.</font>

 

<font color='#000080'>Achoo!

"Did I not tell you, young master?"

Palasaj was standing against, pacing back and forth with Gujutyl follwing him, a low hover over his head.  His nose was slightly red from sneezing, already catching a cold in the harsh rain.  The flow of rain was never steady, chaning from a heavy blanket of water falling from the sky to small droplets tapping on his shoulder, and all intensities within.  He looked at his sword, then to his wet hands.  He was already fifteen minutes late for something that would have only taken an hour, even with the two hour buffer that he allowed.  At leasthe had enough energy to return to the Academy, although he knew a mean cold would await him the next day.

"Pagu...Pa...CHOO!""

He snezed again, holding his sword forward and gathering Fronima, pulsating in his hand and flaring on his slick, wet, black tail.  He tried again, sniffling for a few seconds.

Pagujs!

He slammed the blade down to the ground, closing his eyes for the few seconds that he remained on Ajita, an blurred from existance in a beam of black light.</font>