Diamonds On Me Dancing

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Path To Immortality

"Immortality comes at a price. A price I'm willing to pay."

Years of careful study and research that no being with mystic knowledge inferior to her own would have been able to attain had led her to the first step in her divination. A single temple, whose creation dated back to the origins of magic itself, sat secluded in an unexplored section of a Tibetan mountain range. Even if a mortal was foolish enough to journey through the savage winds and relentless snow that had assailed the temple for millenniums, its powerful mystic wards would repel even an arcane practitioner of basic knowledge. It had taken an extensive amount of time reading into the most obscure of journals and scrolls to unveil the history of 上升 (Ascension).

In the earliest years of magic, a small cult of mystics believed all divine energy, regardless of what higher power one believed in, was channeled on the same plane of energy. This plane of power was accessible only to those divine beings, whose control over the arcane arts was far beyond the control of mortal beings. However this small group of sorcerers believed that this energy should be accessible by those mortals who showed the skill and ambition to transcend the mortal limitations of magic. Thus they set out to find the locations on Earth where these divine entities' mystic presence had remained most potent, building shrines with ancient spells designed to channel the divine energy into the mortal plane.

The first temple built, resting in Tibet, was designed to be one's first step in obtaining immortality. Named 上升, translating to "Ascension", its mystic walls proved most difficult to penetrate. Once allowed into the sanctum, the divine energy left behind by the entity that once marked the location would slowly drain its visitor of all the mystic energy they held. However, just as slowly, their power would be replaced by an energy to replicate to the gods' own. This energy held no mortal emotion, no compassion, no humanity. Only the power and knowledge needed to ascend to immortality.


Claire Swanepoel had spent the last several months hidden in an arctic hibernation inside Ascension. Upon arriving at the arcane grounds, the mystic mistress entered a deep, impenetrable meditation atop the temple's highest tower. For months wind tore at her unrestrained hair through her tower's window and made attempts to rip the thin white cloth than covered her smooth skin. Her meditation had allowed the process of draining and replenishing her mystic energy to go unnoticed; her conscious pushed back into the recesses of her mind.

After months of this detachment from awareness, perched high atop the Siberian mountains, two eyelids flew open to reveal a pair of ice blue eyes. The rest of her body remained unwavering, only her eyes moving to confirm her surrounding's had not changed since entering her coma. The eyes seemed simultaneously emptier and fuller since their closing months ago: full of knowledge and insight while empty of emotion or empathy. Slowly strands of her long blonde hair began to rise above her, along with the dirt and rocks on the floor of the decaying temple, as if gravity itself had been turned off. The crumbling walls around her began to disintegrate, exposing the Enchantress to the full force of the howling winds. Floating above the temple and mountain's themselves her eyes began glowing an ominous white as the chaotic thrashing of winds and destruction of the temple continued on.

Suddenly, as if turned off by a switch, the air ceased movement while the sanctum's foundation no longer received a psychic demolishing, leaving the mountain top with an uneasy stillness. Her hair cascading back around her shoulders the sorceress eyes returned to their icy hue. She was changed. She could feel the power running through her veins, the knowledge of the divine coursing through her conscience. Her first step on the path to immortality had been completed.

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A Deal with the Devil

(This is a three year prelude to the RPG Rise of a Demon)

Soft moonlight shone through the single window on the top floor of the Swanepoel's London mansion. Hardly anyone was ever present in the lavished home, business always causing the family to jet off to various locations around the world. It was not their first London home, the one she was raised in, but it had become the closest thing to home she knew since the old one was abandoned. She walked up the spiral staircase and through the trapdoor that lead into the spacious room, closing it silently behind her. She paced passed the tech base to her right and the sparring center or her left, straight to the final third of her, Madison, and Jasper's favorite base of operations. This section of the room had an ancient aura to it, and furniture to match. The arcane decorating flowed with the feel of mystic power embedded in the room. The long window that ran along the loft's back wall allowed moonlight to stream down softly on the Enchantress's golden blonde hair and cast a fleeting shine on her ice blue eyes. She moved with a casually confidence, as if the danger of what she was about to do was nonexistent. With merely a thought a sphere-shaped object wrapped in brown cloth was lifted of a stand on a bookshelf and landed delicately in her grasp. Pushing an open palm towards the ground amaranth-colored smoke swirled up from the ground, surrounding the green clad sorceress before disappearing along with her.

In a flash of energy, the same color as before, Claire reappeared, however she was no longer in London. She was in a massive cave, the exit right behind her. In front, was a thin path of earth leading a quarter mile forward. And all around her was fire. Raging fire that gave the whole cavern a red glare and nearly tangible evil. Below the path and within the fires rest hundreds of demons, all different in appearance. Some resembled beasts such as wolfs and boars, while others held more reptilian similarities. But the common factor throughout all the demons were vibrant red eyes, set on Claire with malicious loathing. Growls and hissing shot towards her as she made her way down the path, some even tried to throw clumps of dirt up towards her. She heard their hisses, warnings of her not belonging in their dimension or threats of death. Despite the violent screeches the mystic mistress walked with an unconcerned poise, her eyes set frigidly on the demon at the end of the path. As she drew nearer the path behind her crumbled, until she was left hovering over the flames on an earth platform mere meters from the giant. The dancing flames and towering cavern walls cast dark shadows against the gargantuan demon, making his full appearance hidden. Through the darkness she could make our his massive figure, sitting on a makeshift throne of rock. Hands protruded from his dark shroud, red humanoid hands with fingernails growing into sharp claws. Glowing behind the blackness were four vibrant red eyes, one pair on top of the other, shaped like diamonds placed on their sides. His deep and ominous voice rang powerfully throughout the cavern.

"So glad you could see my home, Enchantress. You brought the Sphere, as I was assured, correct?" It was more of a threat than a question, a promise that if anything went differently than planned she would be obliterated where she stood. Her face held no expression, her body language held no tones of distress. "Of course, Ragnarok," she extended her hand, the cloth covering the mysterious sphere falling to the ground to reveal a faintly glowing red orb, "the Sphere of Hermes, as promised. Unlimited access to Olympus, where you may do as you please. The Greeks are of no concern to me." As he began to lift his giant hand towards her she pulled her hand back. "What I was promised first." She held her voice steady and unafraid of the infamous demon. His hand hovered motionless for a moment, undoubtedly debating whether or not he should obey her or kill her. However she knew he would not risk losing his opportunity to gain possession of the Sphere. A sinister chuckle escaped the darkness as tall flames erupted around her circular platform. "I give you credit, Enchantress. Few would feel confident they could control the power I possess. What makes you so sure you can?" He taunted. Without flinching at the flames searing heat her voice remained steady. "I didn't come here to be questioned, Ragnarok. Just give me what I came for and you will have your Sphere." His red fingers tapped contemplatively on his arm rest before he finally spoke again. "So be it."

The flames rushed towards her, swallowing her in their unbearable heat. She cried out in pain and psychically tried every spell she knew of to extinguish the pain, but the vicious flames raged on. They began to swallow her flesh and muscle, slowing turning her into nothing but a skeleton. Just as the flames reached the tip of her hair, the last living piece of her, they vanished along with the pain. Looking down she found her skin and clothes as if the fire had never even existed. Looking back to Ragnarok her eyes were full of their own fire, but he merely chuckled once more. "I'm sorry my dear Enchantress, I forgot to warn you. The process can be a bit painful." He waved an indifferent hand. "However it is complete, and you possess my power to drain the power of others and transfer it into power for yourself, and you need not worry about any connection to me." More of his monstrous face, several tentacles and sharp fangs, became visible as he leaned closer to her. "But I do warn you. Power siphoning is an extremely dark magic, and a human soul such as yourself should not risk pushing it too far. Not that your death would be of any concern to me. Now, the Sphere, as promised." While he had spoken Claire had regained her cool composure, the Sphere still gripped tightly in her hand. Holding it forward its feeble red light grew stronger and transitioned into a luminous white. Ragnarok red skin became to steam as the white light continued to become brighter. "What -- is -- that?" He managed to choke painfully, attempting to stand from his seat in an attack. Even the demons in the pit felt the light as their waving cries rang out. As if Ragnarok's very existence held the dimension together, the entire cavern began to crumble, dirt and rocks the size of small pebbles to boulders began falling from the shaking cave.

With a smirk, Enchantress held the Sphere out farther still. "I'm sorry as well, Ragnarok," she said with mock guilt, "I forgot something too. When created, the goddess of magic Circe placed a very powerful spell on the Sphere. Once activated, it would diminish the life of the gods' threats such as titans, monsters, and oh -- demons." The whole cave was going to fall in in a matter of seconds. "But I'm sure you won't mind me using this opportunity, you being so powerless, to eliminate any chance of you escaping from this miserable dimension. For all eternity." Turning to leave she could hear the giant demon attempting to chase after her. So weak now he could only manage to crawl, one massive hand extended towards her in a final attempt to stop her as his throne room collapsed. "We -- had -- a -- deal--," His words were broken in weakness and pain, "you -- promised."

The same amaranth smoke began to swirl around her once more, from her waist down had already disappeared before she looked over her shoulder with an apathetic glare. "I lied."


The Arcane Hand

Intro: Turning of the Tides

Warm summer breezes riffled through the grass on the rolling hills of Phoenix Academy. She had been spending a lot of time on the grounds lately, unbeknownst to her Court of Owls colleagues. The tranquility of the school relaxed her and provided a calm hiatus from the relentlessness of politics and business. She gazed somberly over the solid blue surface of the lake, dressed loosely in a black Gucci kimono sleeve dress and Louis Vuitton heels, the light winds ruffled her dress as they passed by. It was an odd location to meet, so far off from the actually castle, but she appreciated the seclusiveness. Holding her clutch with both hands at her waist she stood patiently awaiting her affiliate's arrival. "Phoenix?" Came a rough voice behind her. Due to her prosperity during her years attending the academy, "Phoenix" had become a common nickname that had stayed with her and transformed into an alias on the grounds as she grew into adulthood.

"Yes Arthur." Claire said, turning to face him with a halfhearted smile.

"They've all accepted. Each of your requests for the Arcane Hand are willing to join you. Where would you like to move from here?" He asked. She looked passed him for a few moments, gathering her thoughts with distant blue eyes.

"Find Jasper. He knows the next step." She said looking back into his eyes. She could trust Jasper, he knew her just as well as she did, or better. With an awkward bow the man turned to head back to the castle.

"Yes, Ms. Swanepoel."

She would have to return to New France soon, she had other responsibilities to tend to. However her newly gathered cult was a growing priority, one she would have to nurture and cultivate closely and carefully. And with the right choice of movements, the Arcane Hand's name would rise to the infamy she intended. As she made her way back to the castle where a limo awaited her, she glanced towards the various students and teachers moving about the academy. All puppets in a performance she directed.