Post by The Magus Ascendant on Jan 9, 2014 19:07:25 GMT -5
July 15, 23 CLE
Of all the activities to perform, to entertain a self-reflecting thought in matters like 'what is power?' would almost certainly be at the bottom of this being's list. And so, it would be a rather large surprise to find that the embodiment of Arcane power - Xerath, the Magus Ascendant him, or it, self - would be sitting in a chair, looking like a normal man. Or as normal as a being of raw arcane energy could be. His ever-focused eyes now looked at emptiness, at nothing, his 'hands' in what looked like his 'laps,' but the most surprising part is what he was wearing: had he not actually gone around looking like a mortal again, any passerby would almost certainly be shocked to see Xerath be donning a suit.
And yet, any passerby's eyes would not be fooled; a freshly tailored jacket, pants, and shoes set was on him, and the blackness of the color stood in stark contrast to the pulsing blue that what could be called his 'skin.' Why he would be wearing such a thing could only be known to Xerath himself. Of course, one passerby likely did not hear his earlier ponderings about what it was like to be a human, and his even more deep discourse about what he would do once he was free of his prison, whose evidence was retracted underneath the suit.
In Xerath's mind, was only one thought: What should he do with his power upon his gaining of his freedom? Become one with the elements, uncontrollable, unrestrained, unbound to what else exists in this world aside from the Arcane? Remove his sanity and become like the Burning Vengeance, one who wishes to only cleanse this world of the 'blight' that plagues it that is all sentient life? Return to his former idealism and perhaps look more towards the Cryophoenix, to preserve life as is and perhaps give civilization a guiding path towards a brighter eternity? All have their merits, but none seem to be the clear-cut path to take...
He had been there for some time, and it seemed that barring an interruption, he would remain in his position for some time still.
Post by The Magus Ascendant on Jun 2, 2014 18:24:17 GMT -5
Xerath observed the passersby as they stared and gawked at the abomination sitting before them. Even with nigh-infinite power, he knew he could not restore his connection with the mortals that kept him imprisoned. For some, he could sense the fear that had spawned from their ignorance. Of course, it is the nature of mortals to fear the unknown. Because he recognized this, Xerath pardoned those mortals of their unspoken crime against him. However, for those who were educated in the ways of the magic and sullied the essence of the arcane with hate and anger like dark ink clouding crystal water, he had no forgiveness. Emotion was not the only contaminant, though, as magic channeled through any physical, meta-physical, or even incarnate medium elicited a change in raw arcane energy. Many did not realize the lasting impression they left on the arcane forces, but Xerath could almost feel them as he channeled the arcane- a partial emotion, a momentary thought, or even a figment of a memory. While he reveled in the long-lost thoughts and memories, it was the residual emotions that were the both a great boon and a terrible curse. It was through these that he felt most connected with the material realm that he shared with mortal-kind, and this was what his chains forbid him from experiencing.
Xerath's projected arcane skin became unstable as he drew power from the invisible fonts around him, attempting to appease his thirst for the arcane. The magic burned the fabric of his newly tailored suit, but Xerath did not seem to notice. He increased his draw on the fonts gradually, wanting to experience more of what he'd left behind. A familiar feeling the runic core under his suit tightened on his immaterial form attempting to restrain him- a core that had been built by mortals to control what they didn't fully understand.
It was then that Xerath caught a glimpse of a familiar magic suspended over the area, and he recognized it immediately. It took the same form of that used on a stealth ward, but its target was not a physical entity like the rods in the Fields of Justice. The subject of this scrying spell was none other than Xerath himself.
'The Institute is trying to keep an eye on me? What do they hope to achieve with that, I wonder?'
Xerath reasoned that they believed him to be a threat, but he laughed to himself at the thought of their inflated sense of self-worth. He had no reason to harm anyone, and he couldn't be bothered to anyways, barring they stayed out of his way to achieving his goal.
'Let's see what you would do, then. Shall we?'
Xerath stood from his chair in the Great Hall and flexed his power as much as his bindings would allow. The human-like guise he'd portrayed rippled and distorted, pulsating with the immense arcane energy. The suit burned away into nothing and the arcane energy moved the air with increasing effect, throwing stray papers away from the intimidating form of the Magus Ascendant.
Post by The Magus Ascendant on Jun 17, 2014 22:45:54 GMT -5
"Steward, sir, Xerath is channeling an unusual amount of unstable arcane energy. You should come see this." The young mage looked to Steward Draegon for guidance, pointing to the scrying lens and watching in anticipation.
Draegon studied the Magus Ascendant as he channeled his hazardous energy. Draegon and his understudy had been watching the Magus ever since he'd been given permissive leave, and he'd come to one conclusion: The Magus was completely unpredictable.
The Institute had warned him that the Magus might seek a way to escape his sarcophagus, but after countless hours of observation, Xerath had not made a single move toward anything of significant power. He had roamed the halls of the Institute, and observed the reactions he elicited from numerous passersby, but no action he took portrayed any form of malevolence. Until now.
Xerath was well-aware of the harm his raw form of arcane energy could do to material life forms, and yet he stood in the most populated hall, channeling more than he's ever dared before. Why?
"Give me a reading of exactly how much energy he's channeling. Is he doing any irreparable damage to the Institute or its residence?"
The protege quickly jumped to his devices. He knew that impressing Draegon was his key to senior summoner status, and potentially becoming a steward one day. He had to prove that he was fit for the duty they'd assigned him.
The young mage shuffled through his kit and pulled out various trinkets and gauges. After minutes of taking down measurements and observing his gauges, the young mage turned back to his mentor, the Steward.
"He's getting stronger. His power has increased almost 24% since we brought him to the Instutute."
Draegon's mind wandered to all of the possible outcomes of Xerath's increasing power as the young mage continued to babble about Xerath's power in comparison to various mages and icons of magic power. 'What do you stand to gain from this, magus?', he thought to himself. The unstable magic was doing too much damage to let it roam freely through the institute, but the magus ascendant did the institute no good locked away. Either way, Draegon would be forced to issue an ultimatum.
Post by The Magus Ascendant on Jul 21, 2014 11:59:39 GMT -5
Xerath was approached by Orianna and a mortal inquiring about some insignificant magic item for a quick exchange, ultimately ending in Xerath appearing uncaring and indifferent, as Xerath often did.
After a short time, a familiar voice interrupted Xerath's thoughts with a telepathic message.
"Xerath, the Institute's studies show with 96% certainty that your unstable form may cause lasting effects on all living beings with ties to Runeterran magic."
Xerath knew that voice.. it was the steward charged with Xerath's containment, or as Xerath considered him, Xerath's personal jail guard.
"And since the suspension of the League matches, we see no purpose in you roaming around slowly killing all of Valoran. The Institute has given an ultimatum: You will prove your usefulness to the Institute AND make efforts to stabilize your hazardous form, or be confined in the Negatron Holding Cell we've constructed for you until we've use for you. "
Xerath chuckled to Himself. Their gteed proved time and time again the true intent of the Institute. A toxic, uncontrollable force threatens their very existance, and still they seek to harness its power. Xerath would never be hidden away again: the power He held made sure of that in more ways than one.
"It seems I've no choice then, Summoner."
"Thank you for your cooperation. "
Xerath noticed a few mages in the main hall slink into the shadows, like the Institute had let out a sigh of relief.
"Then I've a task for you, Xerath. A small expedition is setting out to explore for some magic artefacts, and you will travel with them to ensure any contraband items are confiscated and brought to the Institute for destruction. With your extensive knowledge of Runic magic, this should be no problem for you. "
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