This choice: An independant arcanist - a warlock, witch, alchemist, or other • Go Back...Chapter #3An independent arcanist: unlicensed alchemist by: DougTF   You are Figuratus, an unlicensed alchemist, and with quite a good reason. Training under a guild master who wound up being a bit more than he had advertised, as it were. In point of fact, he was a demon, and his efforts to teach alchemy were in the service of an attempt to break the barrier between this realm and the netherworlds, allowing unchecked evil to lay waste to the lands. But none of the students learning magicks under him knew a thing, and it was not until some Paladins showed up that there was any hint of something untoward happening. You were the most accomplished alchemist of the lot, with an almost preternatural ability to concoct potions and spells that would transform your own body in myriad ways. You had no idea this was because the guild master was siphoning your soul off, and replacing it with dark energies and magicks, but by the time the Paladins attacked you were already far too altered to be able to forgo the power you now had.
A quick shift into a small child, and you were rescued by the very Paladins who sought your destruction, along with all the other acolytes. But in your haste, you did your transfiguration a bit too well and wound up trapped in the form of a young girl, no more than 7 years old...for two years. Those two years were interminable: sent to an orphanage, and a very strict one in keeping with the Paladins who handed you off to some matronly women running a home for abandoned youth that was sponsored by some clerics with their holier than every damn thou attitude. And here you were, a cute little girl in form, but with the mind and corrupted soul of an illicit alchemist.Acting the part was no fun at all, and the rules of that place even took the joy out of trying to live as a carefree child. Who knows how long you would have been trapped there, what with all the circles of protection and wards the clerics put to keep the children safe from any dark magicks? Well, if not for one fateful decision by the mother superior to show her little ones the wonder of a local cathedral.
In her defense, she had no idea the cathedral had been built over the ruins of a satanic altar, used to sacrifice virgins to demons. Paladins had vanquished the dark practitioners who worshiped there, and clerics had dictated the ruins be razed, and a church built over them, to claim the site for their God. Or god, that sort of difference is more in their minds than reality. But what that meant is that, unbeknownst to any of the clerics or acolytes, this 'church' was steeped in dark magicks, which were a strong enough presence to break through the wards protecting the children. Those same wards that worked to cut your tiny child form off from the magicks you needed to craft your alchemy. Feeling those magicks come alive in your form after these long years, after being forced to be a miserable orphan girl trapped under the strict care of these people, well, your first thought when faced with the renewed ability to shift your form was to assume that of a dragon, and lay flame to the entire cathedral, as well as the overly pious and righteous women who thought they were caring for you, when they were really preventing any joy in your life.
Two things stopped you: the first was practical in that revealing yourself in such a way, and in such a place, would guarantee concerted efforts by a whole horde of paladins and clerics to hunt you down and kill you, no doubt thinking you a demon who possessed this innocent child. But, looking around, as you felt your renewed powers, you saw your classmates: the other children who were in fact children and true orphans. Parents killed in various battles between light and dark, or just from disease of petty criminals. These kids, your friends these last two years, they just wanted to live and while the struct rules of this sect grated on you, you also understand that it was the only home these true children had, and what passed for suffocating and overbearing for you, an adult trapped in the body of a tiny girl, was probably the warmest feeling these friends of yours had to hang onto.
So instead of a vengeful dragon spewing fire, you decided, even though it might play into the worldview of these clerics and acolytes, that you would transform into a cherubim, or your closest approximation. Falling over, as if fainting, you then accessed the dark magicks, assuming a radiant form, angelic wings on your tiny body, glowing brightly as your tiny form was first fretted over, then recoil in fright, before you saw expressions of wonder, awe, and in some cases, even joy on the faces of your classmates as you raised up, smiling at them and lifted toward the rafters to the accompaniment of soft singing and rays of golden light. Fading through the ceiling, as if headed to heaven like the angel you appeared to have changed into, you instead shift into a raven as soon as you are through the roof and fly off, stretching your wings and freedom, trying to decide what to do now.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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