Chapter Text
Within dungeons deep, far over the mountains of cold,
There a stone shall rest upon a throne of the Dark One of old.
Within caverns old, far over the planes of death,
Lifeless beings shall one day join their Lost Master and rise as the sun shall forever set.
Rachele was a wizard of the Methanike Tower. She stood as the only female in the tower and the only one with the ability to master the vast majority of spells within the span of a couple of minutes to a day, and she was very proud of it. Being the only female, the others often teased her and would not allow her to wander around without an escort. They would claim she should focus her studies on being a witch rather than a wizard, but she would tell them to sod off and that she had every right to study what she wanted.
She often wore all pinkish-purple just to tease the other wizards who wore more traditional colors such as dark blue and black. Her outfit that she always wore, even when traveling, consisted of a turtleneck dress with transparents sleeves that hung loosely at her sides, a basic surcoat, fingerless gloves, and ankle boots. Her hair was waist length and often found in a braid that wrapped around her head before loosely hanging over her right shoulder. Her staff was made of dark oak wood. At the top of her staff, the wood thinned and wrapped itself around a deep red stone.
Rachele would often be found in her study, and that is where she was now. Her eyes were focused on a flame that twirled around her open palm. She was focused on making the flame take the form of a memory. Nothing extreme, just a basic memory of her walking down the corridors. Just as she was about to complete the spell, the flame already starting to take form, there was a crash at her window, shaking the glass. The fire reacted to her moment of lack of concentration and spread across her hand, ready to burn her sleeves and gloves.
“Shit.” Rachele hissed, dousing the flame with a simple water spell. Steam rose from her hand as the flame went out. She inspected her clothing, finding no burn marks. She sighed in relief. Of course the fire wouldn’t actually burn her or her clothing. It was an illusion spell. Thank the gods no one was in the room with her. If anyone had seen what had happened, she would be hearing the story for months, years even.
She jumped again as something pecked against her window. Spinning around while summoning her staff to her, Rachele saw a raven sitting on her windowsill outside. It appeared to have a note in it beak. Curious, she walked over and pulled the window open before extending her arm for the raven to hop on. The bird dropped the note in her other hand after putting her staff down. Using a spell, she unrolled the note. It read:
‘Wizard Rachele, you are asked to join the summoning of a council in Calenthel. It concerns the Jewel of Life. If you are able, you are to report there immediately. The raven will take you when you are ready. Simply tell him when.
-Erest, advisor of Lord Losdir.’
The wizard sighed and rolled her eyes. Advisors. They could be so demanding at times, even in their notes. She glanced over the note again to ensure she read everything correctly. Despite the pushy tone, she was intrigued. If this council was indeed about the Jewel of Life, it would be worth investigating. The jewel was an artifact lost to time. If a council was being formed, it was either found or rumored to be found. This, she could not pass up.
Rachel quickly cast a spell and tidied her study before grabbing her staff again. She led the raven back to the window. It stared at her intently. “I am ready.” she announced.
The raven flew outside and swelled in size until it was the size of her study at least. He looked over at her and extended its wing. Despite the new size, the raven still barely within jumping distance. She leaned out the window and glanced down. It was a relatively long way down. She would not survive if she jumped and missed the raven. She frowned, leaning back inside.
“Can’t we just go down stairs and do this on the ground?” she asked as she felt uneasy. There was no way she would willingly jump out of the window.
The raven looked at her. She could almost hear it saying to trust him. Rachele looked into his eyes, and he stared back into hers. From her studies, ravens were in theory generally good creatures, seen as omens for good times; however, she had heard of tales where someone would come across an evil one. She begged to the makers that she was making the right decision by trusting this raven. Lifting her surcoat, Rachel climbed onto the windowsill, careful not to slip or drop her staff. Before she could jump, her study door opened. A fellow wizard entered with the Chief Wizard. They stared at her in shock and she at them. What were they doing in her study? The raven cawed, growing impatient. She turned, standing as straight as she possibly could in a small window.