Whispering Stars PV Prof. Chiadovini

"I have become insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
- Edgar Allan Poe

Terrible Presence in effect.
| Aura of Unease Present |

“Rare does not equivocate impossible.” The Seer replied. “Chains evolve, become faint. Invisible. Lighter to carry, used to the burden, but present. Nothing is promised until the alleged vow comes to pass.” He turned his wand in his hands. Curious, adventurous, taming chestnut. Powerful, bonding snallygaster. “One voice does not cut through the storm. It waits for the moment to be heard fully.” But then when did the waiting end and the action begin? A storm whipped up with frothy waves always replenished from below, when there were only a few limited, lingering ships torn ragged as they fought against merciless foam. Be destroyed, and those few ships would have none to replenish their ranks.

“I have no doubt that humanity and wizard kind will someday implode upon themselves. Perhaps all that can be asked for is to have the honor of watching it collapse. I, for one, will not mask my distaste by pretending that there is a blazing hope to be had. It is a dying ember, growing colder and colder.” Macbeth vanished into the Forest. “I will not perpetuate the sins of predecessors, yet neither shall I shelter the flame. Let these things end as they will, if end is what is meant to be.” Brows creased once again, pale fingers tapping the ledge of the observation deck as he continued to sit motionless at the sheer edge. A touch of this sentiment was derived from experience with his experiences with the weave of fate; do not affect what you cannot change, lest more damage come of your actions. Be an observer, wiser than most, change what you must, foresee what is most important. Watch. Witness. Attest.

“Never enough.” The Seer shared in response to Selim’s query. “There is always more to pursue, more to be gained. Not greed, but most assuredly a craving for more.” Ambition, a poisonous motivation at times, but an effective one when the moment came for it. “One cannot begin a journey without a first step, but I concur; to some, one step satiates them too early. It is my interest not to stumble into that exact pitfall.”

A reflection given life was what the boy had finally responded. So, the child was indeed speaking to himself. That in and of itself was no cause of shame; in many cases, it took one’s own voice to reassure the mind, and in other times, in even the most useless of circumstance, it at least offered a different perspective, a different thought. It was the same as the Seer speaking to his owl, but these pair of voices were different. From what he had heard thus far, it was not a relationship of comradely or collaboration outside of reinforcing the darker aspects of the conversation held thus far. Leonardo did not offer verbal acknowledgement, only nodding once slowly before turning away again.

A small sound of movement, silent even as the boy landed on the Observation deck a small ways away from where the Seer continued to sit. Leonardo looked on at him as Selim stood, unmoving as the boy’s body became more visible. Leonardo doubted that his fragile and weak self could have climbed up after the child, so it was good that at least that part of the chore was over. Turning to face Selim slightly, just so that he could see the entirety of the observation deck, Leonardo looked the boy over. The wounds, plausible flagellations, that he had seen from below he could see in the torchlight better, far deeper and more prolific than he had first thought, pale, shaking, a corpse walking. It was almost pitiable, and Leonardo could see why the boy would have wanted to be without constant pestering. There was reason. Reason backed action. The reason the Seer himself was slightly underweight, who didn’t sleep regularly or tried to avoid human contact at any given moment.

The dull expression that Leonardo bore was almost of weariness, and even with the light flickering across pronounced cheekbones and firm jawline, the pale eyes reflected little if any of the light, with dark shadows of sleeplessness surrounding them. Like clockwork, his head tipped of its own accord, observing the little will-o-the-wisp before him. It was the little purple piece of roughed fabric which drew his eyes next, and the glittering teeth within its fabricated maw. Was this related to the voices he had heard? “Impressive craftsmanship.” He noted the haphazard stitches. Off the cuff, almost altering the direction of the conversation.

The boy looked crouched, ready to run. Leonardo knew better than to engage. If lessons taught him by perturbed owls and unsettled cats during his school years had been any indication, no advancement should be made.

His wand was angled visibly away from the boy, towards a place adjacent to the door by which one would return to the classroom. Just as he had incanted on the night he had first met this boy, Leonardo spoke again; “Ferula.”

Ferula Cast: WDC = Unknown
d20(14) + 17 = 31 (Success)

A stream of bandages flew from the tip of the chestnut, wrapping themselves around each other in a small bundle near Selim, to his right. “Whatever your intentions were of coming here, I hope you found what you were looking for.” He spoke evenly, replacing his wand in the cane. He nodded towards the bandages. “And if tonight is not the night you intend for the Reaper to claim his dues, then...” The Seer found himself twisting the clasp of his cloak, letting the statement dissipate in the night air. An offering of neutrality? Sympathy? A suggestion? Choice? “Consider your options. The loss of any who challenges what they have been told to believe without question is a devastation. As you said yourself, these tend to be a rare breed.”

The curve of a corner of the Seer’s mouth raised a touch. “Do you require an escort to your house dormitories?” Once again, obligated by nature of his current foothold did he mention this. Tonight had offered him much amusement and partially satiated intrigue. A part of the Seer almost didn’t want this strange encounter to end.

Reducio

@Selim Faust

"I have become insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
- Edgar Allan Poe