guy. (inspirers) wrote in emillion, |
Guy had been toward the back of the library when the yelling had started. Fishing around aimlessly for books on synergy, familiar tomes that deserved restudying and reacquaintance, the day had begun as nothing out of the ordinary. However, as a scatter of colleagues turned their heads to catch the sound of a quickly heating argument nearby, he couldn’t help but turn his attention from the shelves to do the same. It couldn’t have been the Sage causing such an uproar, he thought to himself at first, shuffling along an indirect path through the rows of books until he found a better vantage point--but surely enough that it was. “Something’s not right here, I’d say,” he mumbled, a look of uncharacteristic concern writing itself across his features the longer Guy stood and observed. Unfortunately, on this particular day, the library was no safe haven, and the Sage, it quickly appeared, was in no mood for mercy and reason. Others stood in awe and fear as Vivian Xi began to unleash the magics at her masterful command, and with a simple incantation and flick of her wrist, mages around them began to die. Firaja swept up in a wave of unforgiving fury, roaring close. Guy tried running out of the way, and it was only then that he noticed Peony Min observing the scene as well. As a longtime member of the guild, as a friend, and even as an inquisitor, the synergist let his instincts carry him and began to run to her side. “Councilor!” Peony heard the shout through the ringing in her ears; the shouting had come seemingly out of nowhere, and she had managed just in time to shove the scholar she had been conversing with out of the way before a blast of wind hit her, as solid as a massive punch to the stomach from some unseen hand. She flew back with a gasp,colliding with Guy -- it was Guy who had called her name -- for once her composure shaken, her eyes wide. What was happening? But Vivian -- cool, collected, controlled Vivian -- was still raging, shouting (in Peony’s mind, habit catalogued the words, puzzles for another day, but it was as though everything was happening through a thick layer of cotton), and then the air was thick with magicks yet again, and Peony knew that whatever came next, it would be massive, destructive, deadly -- “Evacuate now!” she gasped out, her voice perhaps too soft to be heard by all, but one of the nearby mages, limping painfully from a collision with a table, seemed to shake off her shock long enough to attempt to herd others towards the door, those who hadn’t already run screaming into the stacks. That was when the Firaja hit. He didn’t have time to calculate the risk, only time to rush forward and attempt to cover Peony from the blast. The pain was excruciating. Vivian’s mastery over the elements seemed absolute, great and terrifying, and the flames of Firaja seared his clothes and tore at his flesh unforgivingly. Guy clenched his teeth, barely able to keep himself from crying out at the pain, using all of his efforts to usher the councilor toward the doors. Everyone was in a panic, scrambling over their fallen comrades to escape, their eyes wide with fear. None of them seemed to believe what was happening, that danger hadn’t just arrived at Emillion’s doorstep, but had now found its way to the very heart of the city, to what seemed once to be an impregnable fortress of safety. With what effort he could muster, Guy yelled out the incantation for Shell, a synergist’s imperative in any emergency. It did not draw unto his own body, however, as the waves of pain continued to beat down as he ran. All was for the councilor now, giving every effort that she might escape and correct whatever was happening. “Hurry,” he croaked out hoarsely. |