| A young acolyte bows as you approach. "Greetings, Summoner. I confess your face is yet unfamiliar to me. May I ask your name?" He opens the register book and wets a quill. Will you sign? New to Factions? Register for the forum here! Contact Summoner Random Nom (Rat King#2972 @ Discord) to confirm your registration. (We get a lot of bot signups. Somebody has decided that Factions is a prime demographic for discount shoe sales. Pinging Nom will allow him to make sure your signup doesn't get bounced.) If you've already signed up, log in below. |
| Everyone Makes Mistakes | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: May 29 2016, 07:30 AM (267 Views) | |
| ShadowKnight1224 | May 29 2016, 07:30 AM Post #1 |
|
Every day is Lissandra Appreciation Day
|
Author's Note The room was unseasonably cold, not from a miscalibrated temperature enchantment or some arcane mishap, but due to the very nature of the people inside it. When people from the Freljord gathered, it was always cold. The ceremonies for swearing allegiance had been scheduled one after the other, particularly for low-ranking Summoners, with little fanfare and no VIPs. Erik Yrryven's ceremony was no different. The small, utilitarian room he had been assigned to was almost bare. It had an old, dusty desk, a rickety chair and two senior Summoners: an elderly man that preferred to perform bureaucratic duties and leave the excitement to the young Summoners, and a severe woman with the Freljord's colours on her robes. "...by the power invested in me, I affirm your allegiance to the Freljord for the remainder of this dispute," the old man concluded, lifting the heavy tome that lay on the desk and approaching Erik. The Frostguard mage extended a hand and touched the open page with his fingertip. Magic surged from his skin, leaving behind an almost electrical tingle, and his signature appeared on the book. "Next!" the old man shouted towards the door. The two Freljordian Summoners quickly left the room, just as another pair entered. Outside, there were several others waiting, about half of them still with the Institute's soft golden trim on their robes. Erik was about to head towards the teleportation hall when the Freljordian woman stopped him. The polite smile on her lips did not reach her blue eyes. "A word, Erik, if I may," she said, gesturing at a nearby meeting room. Most of the rooms in the Institute were individually shielded from eavesdropping; after the woman led him inside one with a small table and a handful of chairs, she tapped the wall in such a way as to reveal the almost imperceptible shimmer of an invisible spell still active. "Yes, Hildegard?" Erik stated politely once she turned towards him. He had made sure to put the table between them, but had not sat down. Not yet. The woman looked at him the same way a Piltovian scientist might regard an unknown life form. Erik knew this because he had seen Piltovian scientists regarding unknown life forms not too long ago. "When I am assigned a Summoner to swear in, I do some research on them. Standard procedure," she explained. Erik's heart started beating fast. He willed his muscles to remain relaxed, his smile to remain casual and polite. "I didn't make it this far by allowing concealment to deceive me." Erik said nothing, but merely arched an eyebrow in interest. She smiled at him. It was cold and self-congratulatory. "You don't add up." Erik shook his head in feigned confusion and even let out a short chuckle. "I don't understand," he said with what he hoped was a goofy smile, "did I fail some sort of math test?" She tilted her head, studying him. "No charm magic. Interesting. But then again, that would be too blunt, wouldn't it? It wouldn't be your style," she stated with what sounded to Erik like professional interest. "My sources tell me you have been a loyal servant of Our Lady. Nobody holds you in any sort of high regard, but you haven't made any enemies either. At least not back home." She began pacing, her fingers twirling a bit of frost magic as she walked. "Captured by a Noxian spy along with two other acolytes. Sustained heavy injuries but survived. Aided in casting the Rune Spell in Krocylea. Sustained heavy injuries, but survived. Again. Only Piltovian Summoner present when the Noxians attacked the Piltovian railway." She stopped her pacing, then looked at him with something approaching triumph. "Sustained heavy injuries. Survived. I'm starting to see a pattern, aren't you?" Erik felt every nerve in his body telling him to run. She hadn't made a single threatening move towards him, but he felt in mortal danger all the same. His face faked amused surprise with the ease that comes from years of experience. "Hah, I hadn't realised that. I guess I'm pretty lucky," he replied with a relaxed grin. "Summoner name: Shadow, knight and some numbers. Generic. Almost deliberately so, wouldn't you say?" she continued, resuming her pacing. "Lowest possible rank as well, even though you've been a Summoner for... how many years? Three?" "Well, I never said I was the best Summoner around," he replied casually. "Some of the classes were really hard!" "Indeed, I've heard the rumours about how you managed to pass your classes. A little flirting here, a little black market there, doing special errands on the side..." "Heh, what can I say?" Erik said with an unapologetic grin. "I'm a people pleaser." "Of course," Hildegard stated dryly. She ceased her pacing once more and then turned to him fully. Erik willed his body to remain as relaxed and casual as possible. He had nothing to hide. He was just a harmless, irrelevant mage. "As I said before: you don't add up. There is such a thing as too inconspicuous, Erik. Your dossier may fool the Summoners here, who aren't up to the standard we set for ourselves in the Frostguard, but I see right through you." Erik shrugged, "I don't know what you think you're seeing, but this is just who I am. What you see is what you get," he told her, putting every bit of effort he could in sounding as sincere as possible. "Everyone makes mistakes, Erik," she stated, as she turned around and walked towards the door. "And when you do, I will be watching." "Haha, sure," Erik replied with a forced chuckle. "I'll be sure to put on a good show!" he joked. She opened the door and left without a reply. When the door closed behind her, Erik's knees began shaking and he had to sit down on a nearby chair. His façade crumbled immediately and he forced himself to take deep breath after deep breath. Once he had composed himself, he left the room, looking just as pleasantly relaxed to any onlookers as he had always been. She was right, he thought, as he walked the Institute halls. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes on purpose. Edited by ShadowKnight1224, May 29 2016, 07:36 AM.
|
![]() |
|
| Rextreff | Jun 9 2016, 09:37 PM Post #2 |
|
Hoy, small fry
|
Ok ^^ |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Fanfiction · Next Topic » |





7:15 AM Jul 11