Quoted By:
> Meditate to expand mana reserves (Difficult)
> 82 + 10 (Camp Bonus)
Pile high the fire. Quench thirst, sate hunger. Close the curtain of the tent, settle in comfortably. Close the eyes, open the arcane sight. Breathe in, watch the fluctuations of magic, ambient traces that run through everything. Breathe out. Your magic with the world's magic.
The name my mother gave me was Melody. No one but the gods call me that anymore. I was supposed to be the happy song of her life. Now I’m walking through this city. Rain is falling in sheets, but I remain dry. Why am I in this city? It’s no place I know, but there are flashes of familiarity, a statue or a bit of ruined masonry on the corner. Lamp posts burst to life as I reaffirm my identity, flames crackling in defiance of the rain.
Where am I? It’s a city of perpetual rain, familiar but foreign...and yes. There’s power here, falling from the sky, coursing in the earth. A city of power, pulsing like a heart. I set out through it, pushing through rain and fog. This city of power seems to bow to me, stone walls parting, gates rising.
A peculiar question appears in my head as I climb stairs and pass through gates. When is this? There’s a strange discontinuity in my mind. I peer at my reflection in the water flowing everywhere in this city and the image seems to shift on a whim. A little girl, a petulant teen, a scared young woman, then a little older and a lot angrier. Fear has burned away on this face. I kneel down and scoop up the water, scoop up this face of anger and drink it into myself, quenching a thirst I didn’t know existed.
I continue on, climbing higher and higher in this city of power. Another strange question. What am I? It’s a strange question to dance on my lips, but it hovers in my mind regardless. What I was is simple, a scared child, followed by a scared adult. But what I am is much harder. There’s anger and plenty of it. There’s determination, a steel will. A gap in the city appears, I’ve climbed a high tower and the path simply terminates in open air. The answer is so obvious as I reach out my hand and command the air to solidify and form into a bridge. I’m a magician, a wizard, a witch, a force of nature, a world shaper.
I stride across open air. I’m drawing closer, I can feel it, ascending the tower of this city. Just one last question, just one last hurdle before I claim this tower for my own, this first piece of this city of power, my city of power. I climb stair after stair, breath starting to growth ragged, the last question surfacing in my mind, something that I know I need to answer to reach the top.
Why?
> Write in
