Toss a coin, make a wish

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." It was dark. And damp. Echoes of dripping water and her own muffled footsteps reverberated all throughout the passage. Maea was careful about where she placed her feet. The ground was slippery, craggy in places and definitely not inviting to sit on. Or indeed fall headlong onto. In fact, nothing about this place so far struck her as very pleasant, and she cursed herself for a fool for going down here. Pausing to straighten her back and breathe for a moment, she held the lantern up to survey the walls. It seemed natural to her eyes, carved from wind or water or perhaps the restless churning of the earth. Not that she was an expert on such matters. All she knew of the earth was concerned with soil, and growing crops, and which ground was better suited for grazing sheep. Perhaps a little better than she knew how to read the soft tread of animals over forest ground. Decidedly better than she could read. Or swing a sword. Biting her teeth together, she pushed the bitterness back. She was not here to feel sorry for herself. Had she not decided to work on her flaws instead of whining about them? Facing her fears was the first step, and being alone down here in a place where no one would hear her scream was definitely among the top three on that list. Setting the lantern down, she took a moment to pull the hair back from her eyes and braided it quickly, all the while listening to the drip, drip of water all around. Then she tensed. A different sound had reached her ears, something... like footsteps. She held her breath, strainging the ears to catch... Yes! there it was again. Swallowing hard, the white-haired girl leaned down, picked up the lantern and waited, thoughts racing. What did she do now? Go back? Wait? Run head over heels? But that... would be giving up. Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the prickle of fear down the back of her neck, and began to inch her way onwards. Toward the sound.

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

The sound of walking had been none-other than Zariah, walking a slow circle in a room not far from where Maea had stopped. With wild curls crowning her head, precariously tall heels still on her feet despite the terrain, the Archmage had chosen the location for its darkness and damp atmosphere. It was the perfect place to work on her magic, continuing to hone her skill. Even one such as her required practice not to get rusty after all.

Not to mention, she hadn't yet mastered all of the magics there were yet.

In the center of the open space was a lantern, burning brightly. From it, she manipulated the flames, dancing about the cave with grace and skill. She controlled more than its motion though, changing its properties even. Waves of heat caused it to flare blue as neared puddles of water, the intensity and density of the flames ebbing and flowing to keep it alive under these non-ideal conditions. But even as focused as she was, Zariah was aware of her surroundings, and the quiet footsteps of the other person did reach her ears. "And just who might you be?" she said in a low, if a bit disinterested, tone, her back towards the pale girl.

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." In her mind, Maea had pictured monsters. Something slimey, dank and less than completely alive. Smell, had been another thing. A little touch of rot, of mould, old blood or... less savoury things. Instead she found a girl. Well, young woman. It was all a bit... disappointing. How would she be able to test her fears against someone who didn't even look any older than herself? All the same, Maea stopped in the doorway and watched as the female worked her powers. The air shimmered from the heat of the flames and she found herself growing hot under the dark rags, sweating not only from the fire but from the sheer power of it. The scale was more than she'd seen anyone wield since... was it the fight against the Spire Guardian? Or perhaps inside the tower itself, she couldn't recall. It was bold, it was brash, it was... impressive. Audacious, somehow, especially as Ludo's warning was still fresh in her mind. To not seek too much power. To remain modest. This was, in her mind, the opposite of modest. "Who might I be..." she repeated slowly, angling her head slightly with a thoughtful look at the other woman. "I don't think anyone has ever asked me that. Only who I am." She took a step inside. Perhaps this was a stupid thing to do. Perhaps she ought to stay as far away from this fire-wielder as possible, go back to her home and her books and stay modest. But... where was the fun in that? Instead she reached out for the water in the room, in the air, in the passage behind her, and gathered it up. Biting her lip as she focused, she tried to send a little ball of it towards the lantern, to see what would happen if she doused the flame. If she could douse it.

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

Zariah said nothing as the girl stepped in, watching her from the corner of her eye. Small. Timid. Weak. Certainly no threat. At first she said nothing to the way she twisted her own words - clever at the very least - and then, by some work of fate, the girl used magic of all things. She had good control of the water, but lacked confidence. Lacked audacity.

But everyone had to start somewhere, didn't they?

The flame in the lantern flared, the heat and growing in intensity and might before shooting from the lantern. The water would knock the metal container over, but the flame spun lazy circles and waves around its wielder instead. "Who might you be indeed..." she said, contemplatively. "Someone with potential. Cleverness. But the confidence and boldness of a child broken far too many times...a pity. Have you the will to be more?"

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." The lantern rattled as it toppled, and the water scattered as it splattered onto the ground, droplets hissing and steaming as they skittered across the hot stone. The fire flared, surged, and lashed for Maea..! or so she thought. Instead it encircled the woman, and coiled about her like a winding snake. She stiffened, attention snapping back to the woman, to what she was saying. Something clicked then, when she saw the pretty face in full light. It was... familiar. "I remember you" she realized, unaware she'd said it aloud until the words were already spoken. "You were there at the Spire... in one of the other group. You... went up, right?" Up when Maea had gone down, risen where she'd fallen, succeeded where Maea had not, though of course the girl didn't know that yet. She found it rather unsettling how easily this person saw through her. Read her. Like some open book. But she couldn't say it was wrong... and that rankled. Nostrils flared, something flashed in pale eyes for an instant, a buried something that wanted to object, resist, swat away the assumption that she was any kind of pitiful. But Maea suppressed it again and shrugged. "I don't know. What does more mean? Potential to do what?"

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

Zariah smirked, head tilting slightly. Recognition - how lovely. "Indeed, I was. And for my efforts, Mort blessed me." she said, watching the girl closely for her reaction. She had seen this bit of information work well on Naturals before, so she had no reason to think it would be any less effective on this little mouse.

"Potential to grow. Potential to be strong. Potential to prove to all those who broke you how wrong they were." she said, shrugging as she lifted a hand to examine her pointed, blood-red nails. "Of course, potential is just a waste if not acted on."

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." If she wanted reactions... well, Maea delivered. There was no hiding the awe she felt at the idea of being touched by Mort, in blessing or curse, or the wistful, longing intake of breath as she felt her old dreams swell, rise to the surface... and then settle in a kind of reluctant defeat. 'It will never happen to me' it screamed of. 'It will not, but the hope will not die either.' Pressing her palms together, Maea watched the flames, the easy effortless way the woman made them move. Because it had to be her doing it, it had to be magic... unless she'd somehow tamed some elemental and made it into a pet. That too would of course be worthy of admiration, but it was the understated ease of the magic that made the biggest impression on the pale girl. It made her want... and that want made her uneasy. "I do want to get stronger" she said, in quiet answer to the unasked question. Or was it a challenge? "This spark... it's the only real talent I have. If I could get better at it, I could do so much more to help. But... I don't want to go against the gods. Ludo said I should strive to be modest..." Whatever that meant.

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

"The gods wish for you to be modest, because they fear another Voice challenging them." she said. With a wave of her hand the flames coiled between them, taking shapes before the girl. The figures of Rae, Vi, Mort, Frey, Safrin, and Ludo standing opposite of the small figure of the Voice. "She was a magic user who rose to great power, and they failed to stop her while they could." she said, almost boredly. The figure of the Voice in the flames grew to stand at equal stature of the six others, challenging and imposing.

The flames suddenly shifted again, and standing before Maea was herself, sculpted in the fire the Archmage controlled. "To be modest is to be controllable. It is to be weak and useless." As she spoke, flame-Maea withered, the glow of the flame beginning to ebb away as she all but vanished. "Would you fade away to nothing in your modesty? Or would you fan the flame of the power you could have, to claim all you've ever wished to have? Will you let your destiny be decided by the failures of those who came before you, or will you claim it for your own?"

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." Pale eyes narrowed as she watched the figures take form and disappear, each in turn. Maea knew the story, of course. Vaguely, in hints she'd heard of other people's conversations and from piecing together the facts she'd always known. And it did make sense, that the gods would try to prevent a second coming of the Voice. Maea was not fond of the self-made deity, had come too close to being on her bad side for it to be wholly comfortable, and while she had some friends among the Ascended they were more the exception than the rule. It did not sit well with her that Ludo - and the others, she supposed - might think she would become like that. But... it rankled that it might want her to remain useless, too. Touching her hands to the ragged shawl she always wore, she considered the questions carefully. What did she want? To grow stronger, yes. To grow, to escape the shadow of the sick, frail child who had no friends and could not even help herself, let alone anyone else. She had people to rely on now, had a place in a guild and a possible future there if she wanted it, if she could grasp it... But. There was that nagging feeling. That hint of doubt that made her ask what use she really would be, the way she was now. "Assume for a moment that I would disregard the will of the gods... How would I become strong? Like you." Color played in her gaze as she leveled it at the woman. Pale hues, barely visible in the faint light, like swirling mist. Difficult to read. But it was clear the words were sinking in. Taking root.

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

How might she become like her indeed.

"Practice." Zariah said softly. As she did so, the fire-Maea seemed to come to life again, glowing and growing, if only to once again be recognizable as her reflection in flame. "Discipline." Once again the fire-Maea grew, its form clear in front of her. "Vigilance." Suddenly the figure in flame seemed to burn with greater intensity, the heat rolling off it in uncomfortable waves. "These things I can teach you, though you must learn to supply the confidence necessary to sustain them on your own. Talent and wit alone will only ever get you so far, like a fine blade with no edge." she said. With a wave of her hand, the fire-Maea became a stream of flame once more, making its way back to the lantern. The click of her heel's echoing in the cavern, Zariah approached and picked up the lantern in which the flame now resided.

"I am building a school of magic in Halo. If you wish to become strong, if you wish for purpose, you will make your way there."

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." It was mesmerizing. To see the promise of a stronger self staring back at her. To think that someone else might see it too, and approve of what they saw. Like sweet honey mead, Maea drank down every word the woman spoke, and didn't even realize how neatly she was being manipulated. It was only words, oh yes, but it was words she had always been desperate to hear. Potential. Power. Easy, manageable steps she was certainly capable of taking in order to reach it. A quiet part of her whispered that another person had done the same thing. Jigano had offered to teach her to read, to wield the rapier, had wanted her along on adventures too. Was she planning to leave, even though she'd promised only days ago that she wouldn't disappear again? "Ah. A school... that's not been built yet. And I don't think I can go to Halo just like that. It's too bad. I would have been inclined to come take a look." A touch wistful, equal parts relieved. No promises would have to be broken, but it would have been nice... But she could always practice on her own. Maea took a step back, pulling away both mentally and physically. Not burned, exactly, but singed by guilt.

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

Zariah laughed, a low, unsettling noise as it echoed off the walls. "So easily dissuaded? Because certainly without four walls, a floor, and a roof, you couldn't possibly learn nor could I teach." she said, pointing out the flaws her in her logic. It was being built so no point in coming? Please. No wonder this girl was all potential and no results - the slightest inconvenience made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Part of the training is in the building, part of the success and proving your worth is being integral to the establishment." she said dryly, examining her nails. "Just about anyone can walk into an institution already made and get something from it. Few have what it takes to start one and see it through to its ends." she said before glancing at the girl again, brow raised. "Do you truly think so little of yourself that you cannot fathom contributing to such an endeavor?"

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." The words stung, and Maea looked away. It was there, the answer to the harsh questions. In the way her eyes lowered, how the hands clenched in silent protest that would never become more than that. Silent. It was in the slump of her shoulders, in the uncomfortable stance and her slightly uneven intake of breath - like it pained her, like the truth was almost too much to stand. She was easily dissuaded. She did think that little of herself. Did that make her pathetic, in the end? And where should she draw the confidence from? What had she ever done to prove her worthiness in her own eyes? What had others done before, as she grew from child into young woman, to help her see what she was capable of, rather than what she was guilty of, through no fault of her own? Oh, they were there now, but it was late in the coming and the damage was already done. Question was, could she still recover from it? The will was there, but... was this woman the right person to help her, in the end? "I don't even know who you are," she said in a low voice, when Maea was finally able to find her voice again. "How am I to know what you are and aren't capable of?"

cigarettes, the taste of whiskey on your lips
still haunting my every kiss - do you remember it?

Zariah laughed low at the girl's question, clearly amused. "I am Zariah Launceleyn, Head of the greatest family of mage's my home world every knew, known as the Merciless, first Queen of the Hollowed Grounds, and now Archmage of the Citadel of Halo." she said with a smirk, listing her accreditations and titles. "Making magic manifest with strength and skill within those blessed with it is what I do. There is no one better to teach you." she said with confidence.

"As far as what I am capable of, well...a great many things. You've already seen a bit of it." she said with a smirk.