[Power Shot] Arin's Training

OoC: Well, here it is, finally. It's a little rushed at the end, but for obvious reasons.

BiC:
The car of the train rocked with every tiny bump it hit on the track as it sped its way through the Mistalian countryside. Not unlike the other nine cars attached to the bright, purple locomotive as it powered its way along its course. The train was like a snake as it weaved between the rolling hills of the northern prairie, which slowly yielded to a deciduous forest. In one of the forward cars of this train sat a strangely dressed young man.

Arin Bryant was sitting in that car, staring blankly out the window as though in a trance. His mind was entrenched in thought as he reminisced over the events of the past few weeks. I wonder if I can find it again? The mage asked himself. I wonder if it will even let me back. Then again, that swordsman from before said he had come back. Maybe I can do the same? Oh well, no use worrying about it until I need to.

Soon the train would be pulling into the station in the township of Forton. On his previous visit, Forton was a humble little hamlet on the brink of bankruptcy. However, the village, now blessed by a sudden surge in the local fish population, was no longer experiencing that kind of strife. Perhaps if he had some time he could go wander its streets.

To ease the boredom, the mage wandered up and down the train performing small feats of magic for the children. Since he had left home, the normally docile and distant magic-user found himself more outgoing. Arin figured it was because he had no choice to engage in a few social situations during his travels, not that he cared now. After a couple of hours, and many rounds of applause later, the train finally pulled into the Forton station.

Steam hissed from the cylinders on the side of the locomotive as the enigmatically dressed mage stepped out of the carriage and onto the stone platform. The afternoon sun still hung high in the sky as small clouds floated by, like tiny islands on a vast ocean. The young man made his way into the town in silence; it was unexpected that he should arrive so early. So early in fact, that he needed a means to pass the time until sunset.

A stone path lead from the hill upon which the train station sat, winding like a snake down the steep grade of the hill until it met with the town’s main road. All along this path, the mage could see dozens of people going about the day’s business, most of which were going to the train about to unload their exports judging by the goods they carried.

Once in the bustling village, Arin wandered the winding streets of the seaside community. Along almost every street were stalls selling goods from all over the world, including things such as toys to foreign weapons from far across the sea. The young mage, however, ignored all of these commodities in favor of a restaurant that held great acclaim in the magical community. He searched high and low for the infamous establishment, each lead turning into disappointment. You’d think they would know where such a famous restaurant is, thought Arin acidly after asking some locals for directions.

Almost two hours after arriving in Forton, the mage with the crystal staff finally found what he was looking for, at least for now. It was a rather small, aging red-bricked building that stood a fair distance from the hustle and bustle of the main streets. The sounds of which almost muted behind the surrounding buildings. The mage had his reservations, but there was no denying the sign that hung overhead, for etched on the black painted sign in gold writing were the words, The Dragon’s Den.

Taking a deep breath of the salty sea air, the mage stepped forward into the building expecting the worst. However, his fears melted away upon entering. The Dragon’s Den was actually a nice, pleasant place to be, several conversations could be heard in the background, all of which showed no hint of hostility. No one even starred at Arin despite his compelling attire; it seemed they were used to all types of patrons.

He strode to the nearest empty table he could find which, by chance, was close to a window. It was not long after that the waitress, a plump middle-aged woman, came to his table. “Here’s the menu. You just raise you hand there when you are ready to order, okay?” The waitress voiced.

“Actually,” replied Arin. “I already know what I want.”

“Well, that makes things easier for me,” shrugged the server, pulling out her pencil and a pad of paper. “What can I get you?”

“I think I am brave enough to try your world famous ‘Fire Breath Soup’ if you don’t mind,” stated the mage simply. “Oh, and a soda would be nice as well, thank you.”

The waitress raised an eyebrow in curiosity, “Are you sure? After all, it is quite hot.”

“I’m sure,” replied Arin.

Without saying another word, the server left to go give his order to the kitchen. The mage promptly removed his hat, as was the polite thing to do, and began to slip back into a semi-conscious state. He let his mind wander back to where it was before: the Dome. Not too long ago he had the feeling that he should be making this pilgrimage back to that mysterious building he had, for a very short time, resided in. Why was it calling him back? It had already taught him all he needed to know, master Jacentar said it himself.

The mage snapped back into reality when the waitress cleared her throat. Without a word, she handed him his soup and soda, then went back to the counter. Arin opened the small packet of crackers that came with the meal, placed them in the soup, and crushed them with his spoon. All throughout lunch, his thoughts lingered on the Dome. Without realizing it, he ate his entire lunch, along with not registering how spicy the soup was, until the waitress came by and asked him if he was okay.

After a few hours of chatting with other patrons, all of which pointed out how they had never seen a staff like his, Arin left the Dragon’s Den and began to retrace his steps to the Dome. The light in the sky had begun to fade as the mage walked back up the steps to the train station, the sun sinking behind the hill a little more with every passing minute.

Finally making it up the steep hill, the magic-user quickly began to walk into the woods just south of the village so he would not draw unwanted attention. The shadows of the slim trees looked like jail bars as he walked through the darkening forest, an unpleasant reminder of things now past. Suddenly, a sense of déjà vu ran his body as his first encounter with the Dome, especially how the sunlight was failing him just like his last trip into these woods, came to mind.

He progressed slowly through the woods, the early-Autumn foliage crunching loudly as it crushed beneath his weight. After wandering into the maze-like wood, Arin found that retracing his steps from this point was proving impossible. The mage sighed, he wanted to find it on his own, but at the same time, he wanted to get there as soon as possible. Caving in to his impatient side, the young man placed his staff on the vibrant colours of the undergrowth, giving it a little spin. He watched as the crystal staff slowed to a stop, pointing to his right. Picking it back up again, the mage moved in the direction indicated by his magical tool.

Sure enough, Arin was right to trust in his staff, for after naught but a few minutes of walking had he almost literally stumbled over the cliff that marked the resting place of the Dome. Elated with the site, he jumped down the cliff, a normally suicidal maneuver. However, now that he had mastered using Wind Arrow to aid him in jumping and landing, he was able to fall to the ground much more gracefully then he had the last time.

The dying light from the sun had cast an orange tint on the walls of the Dome, as though welcoming the mage back in a flurry of colour and light. He walked slowly towards the massive, stone front doors of the Dome taking in all he could, unlike last time. Upon the surface of the door, the mage noticed carvings of epic battles and even more epic people, possibly graduates of the Dome. When he got close enough, the door opened on its own accord, letting him in with open arms. Then, the familiar, feminine, disembodied voice rang throughout the Entrance Hall as the doors slammed shut saying, Welcome back to the Dome.

Arin was a little surprised by this announcement, not because of the voice itself, but because it recognized him and welcomed him back. Now that you have returned, the voice continued. Your new teacher, now informed of your arrival, will be sending you correspondence soon. We kindly ask that you wait in your room until then. With the voice now finished, the mage continued down the hall and out the opposite door.

A strange whooshing sound came from behind him as he entered the ring of gardens that filled the space between the wall and the Dome proper. Once again, the door behind him had vanished. As he made his way towards the door into the main complex, the mage stooped at a statue he had never seen before. It was in the shape of a proud-looking Zora, one who looked powerful, yet serene in his engraved stance. It wasn’t until he looked at the gold plaque below that he was certain, master Shintu’s image had joined the ranks of teachers now past.

Arin gave the statue a small bow in respect for all he had taught him, then continued on towards his quarters. It was not long until he got back to the main stairs, relying on his experience to aid him. The glass ceiling overhead allowed what little light that remained in the sky to flood in to the vast expanse. Which floor was my room on again? The mage asked himself. Oh yeah, he thought after a few seconds of thinking. It was on the second floor.

He made his way without a single sound escaping his lips; he did not want to spoil the sense of nostalgia that crept over him since he had entered the woods. Every step reminded him of his adventures, for lack of a better word, on his last visit to this most enigmatic of structures. The hall was silent as soon as he closed the door behind him; not a single soul roamed throughout its length, putting the mage slightly on edge. He quickened his pace, blatantly ignoring anything he saw on the wall, no matter how interesting.

Finally, after a few tense minutes of walking down the abandoned hall did Arin come across the familiar façade of his door. He pounced on it, turning the glass doorknob and thrusting himself into the warmth of his room. Turning around from his room, he noticed that it was slightly different from what he remembered. A quick survey of the room found that the stained-glass windows were gone, the coloured panes reshaped and replaced with clear glass. He shrugged at this development, apathetic at the loss of the beautiful scenes that adorned the opposite wall.

The mage with the many coloured robes reached into one of his front pockets and withdrew the old book. Ever since his last visit to this place, he had been trying to unravel the mysteries that surrounded this book, particularly the puzzle of the potion written by a crazy old mage who resided in the Dome. He placed the book, Angelic Magics, on the table and began to flip through it once more. However, he gave up on it and placed it back in his pocket. It had been a long, dull day that he wanted to end as soon as possible.

Just as he dropped his guard, a loud popping sound came from behind. Instinctively, the mage grabbed his staff, pointing it at the potential threat. However, as soon as the smoke cleared he knew it was only a Domerii, a messenger of the Dome.

“Hey! Don’t point that thing at me,” squeaked the small messenger. “I have been slaving away all day, and the last thing I need is some magic person pointing their magical whatever-it-is at me, and threatening me!”

“I’m sorry,” replied the mage earnestly. “I was just afraid that you might have been some terrible monster.”

“Yeah, well whatever,” answered the Domerii. “Here’s your letter.” With that, the creature gave Arin a shallow bow and disappeared in another puff of purple smoke. Once the smoke had cleared, the mage once more sat at the desk. Placing the letter on the table, he reached into a drawer and removed a small knife. With great care, he slit the top of the envelope with the knife, then pulled the contents out. The mage read the letter with great care, willing not to miss a single word or instruction.

New Student,

You are to come to my laboratory, which is located in the darkest corner of the Dome, immediately upon receiving this letter.

Chronos.

Great, thought Arin acidly. Looks like I will have to do some searching. He sighed after he read the letter; the prospect of searching for such a vague place wasn’t exactly his favorite. “Well, it could be a test,” he said aloud to the air that surrounded him. With that in mind, the magic-user stepped out of his room and into the now active hall.

As he journeyed throughout the vast halls and corridors of the Dome, the mage received many funny looks from passers by. This was not new to him at all, it seemed that everywhere he went he would get such looks, but he shrugged them off as he always did. Apparently, it was dinnertime when Arin walked into the Dome; the deserted public spaces were now full of other people and creatures. Looking up all the stairs he had to climb, he figured it was best to start on the top floor and work his way down.

Thus, the mage climbed, exhausted by the time he got to the thirty-second floor, the top floor of the Dome. As soon as he caught his breath, the mage pulled himself together and walked towards the eastern set of double doors. A chestnut floor and purple carpet met with his feet when he crossed the threshold, making the mage remember the lab he found on his first visit. However, he quickly dismissed the thought, it was nowhere near the darkest part of the Dome.

Determined to find the lab, the mage began to walk down the length of the hall. As he progressed, he noticed that everything was getting darker in both light, and décor. Pictures of fields of blooming flowers turned to depictions of blood-soaked battle fields, with ferocious, wild beasts replacing rabbits and deer. Looks like I’m on the right track, thought the mage as he passed a statue of a heinous villain from an age long past.

Arin was now on full alert; there was no telling what lurked in the shadows ahead of him. A fine layer of dust coated the floor; not many people dared to come this far. After traveling a long way down the macabre hall, the mage could hear a soft clinking sound coming from behind, he wheeled on the spot to see nothing but a suit of armour against the wall. However, it was not there when he passed. The moment he realized it, the suit began to walk towards him, battle-axe raised over the helmet menacingly. Yet, the mage refused to back down as the monster slowly approached. Just as it was a few feet away, Arin raised his staff and yelled, “Got you now, fool!” With that, he cast an Ice Barrage attack that reduced the steel armour to nothing but pieces of scrap metal.

With the demon armour vanquished, the mage in the multicoloured robes continued down the horrifying hall. It felt as though he may find a portal to hell if things kept getting this sickening. In cages were the remains of creatures that had failed to survive, their bodies trapped here, quite possibly along with their souls, for all eternity. However, he had to keep going. Just when he thought he could not take it anymore, the mage saw the silhouette of a door at the end of the hall.

The mage ran toward it is as though it were a life preserver in the middle of a stormy sea. However, as he drew closer, he found that the door, bricked over since a time long past, was inaccessible. He became enraged at this cruel twist of fate, so enraged in fact, that he pounded on the wall and cursed up a storm. After he had calmed down, he stared at the wall in disgust; maybe coming back wasn’t a good idea after all.

Arin decided to turn around and try another wall, but not before he delivered on last, swift kick to the brick wall. The brick he kicked receded into the wall, making a deep rumbling that shook the mage to the bone. Suddenly, the mage felt the floor give way during the violent shaking, and so he fell into the darkness.

He fell for what felt like an eternity, the cold darkness his only companion until he stopped. Then he saw the cold, steel door in front of him.

Assignment Time!

Arin has found the lab of Chronos, the Dark Eye. Now all that is left to do is find the Dark Eye himself. The way to the main laboratory is guarded, not by a demonic warrior or a defender. Chronos is far too powerful for that. Instead, when Arin enters, the way out will seal itself up, trapping him inside without a way out.

Instantly, a cloud of noxious fumes will penetrate the air, attacking Arin from the inside. The stale air, combined with the poison, saps Arin of his power, of his abilities, and of his skills. It is a low grade toxin that Chronos has designed to attack people, and is not lethal. However, the effects will become permanent if Arin does not find the Dark Eye and consume the antidote within thirty minutes.

The clock running out, and shrouded in a darkness that only the Dark Eye can see through, Arin must find his way through the labyrinth to Chronos. Also, the toxin creates hallucinations, so take care, because what is real and what is false are two different things.

End your post with the growl of the Dark Eye entering Arin's ears inside the main lab. 3,500 word minimum.

OoC: Thy bidding is done at last, Lord Power Shot.

BiC:
Arin picked himself up off the floor; surprised the decent had not killed him or at least shattered some of his bones. Little did he realise that the pit, angled so that it would give the illusion of a vertical fall, slowly levelled out. The mage cautiously approached the cold, steel door that was the entrance to his new teacher’s lab. It was apparent just by this door that whoever this Chronos was, that they had an entirely different regime then Master Jacentar.

He outstretched his hand, eager, yet a little apprehensive at what he may discover on the other side. Slowly, he tuned the ancient doorknob and opened the door. It creaked and groaned as it moved on its hinges, oil had not touched them in quite sometime, possibly to create tension in any soul who should open it. Letting go of the knob, the mage in the multi-coloured robes stepped beyond the threshold and into the darkness beyond.

The door slammed shut behind him with such ferocity that the mage could not help but turn around. Almost immediately after, a set of iron bars, just like in the room with the ice monster from the last trip, slammed in front of them. I guess there’s no turning back now, thought the mage. He turned around to face the darkness again, but a strange hissing sound caught his attention. Suddenly, valves near the top of each wall opened, letting in stale air and a thick, purple smoke.

His lungs were set aflame after breathing in the noxious fumes, he covered his mouth and nose from inhaling even more, but it was already too late. The mage could already feel the toxin taking effect, but it was not making him dizzy or any of the other symptoms of similar poisons. Instead, it was attacking his magical power, slowly ebbing it away until there was nothing left. Even his most prized possession, The Crystal Staff of Llyeta, suffered from the purple cloud. Its blue glow vanishing before his very eyes, rendering it little more then a pointy, crystal stick.

Most people would have lost their resolve after having all of their powers sapped away. However, Arin was not like most other humans. As soon as the pipes stopped letting in the toxin, the wall opposite of the door opened, revealing a thick mist of darkness leading down the narrow stairs that led deeper into the complex. With no other way to go, the mage moved onward despite the extreme danger he might face.

Carefully, very carefully, the mage made his way down the dark staircase. All light vanished as he made the decent, a background he figured would be prominent throughout the trip. With all the speed he could muster while still moving safely, Arin made it to the bottom of the staircase. I have to find my way out of here, thought the mage. There is no telling if that poison does anything more and I’m not willing to find out.

Sure that he was at the bottom of the stairs, the magic-deprived mage ran down the darkened, uneven floor with his hands outstretched so that if there were a turn, he would notice. Some way down the hall, the floor gave a sudden lurch, causing the mage to lose his balance. The unmistakable sound of an on-coming train filled his ears as he scrambled up. He found himself in a dark and rocky tunnel, the condensation of steam dripping from the stalactites onto his clothes.

“How did I get here?” Arin asked to the rocks surrounding him. Three short blasts of a whistle sounded throughout the cave, causing the normally calm mage to jump a little. Rather then take his chances, he decided to work his way along the narrow tunnel. At least then, if a train did come, he could jump out of its way in time. Staying off the tracks as much as he could, the powerless mage made a brisk pace in the direction he had been going before a train tunnel magically appeared out of the darkness.

The tunnel twisted and turned for the entire walk, each step seemed like his last, the darkness growing thicker still as it went deeper under the earth. An occasional whistle blast would startle the mage, but no train seemed to come. After one last turn, he found himself on the banks of a great, underground river. A rickety, wooden railroad bridge spanning the distance. Seeing light coming from a point on the other side, Arin ran towards it with full speed. However, when he got to the center of the bridge, he noticed the light coming towards him. Realizing what was going on, he wheeled on the spot finding another, similar light coming from the opposite side.

Horror struck his heart, caught in the middle of the bridge, there was no escape, lest for the immeasurable cavern below. The two trains hurtled towards him, each blowing their whistles in a vein attempt to get him to move. He stood rooted on the spot, like a deer looking into the headlights of an on-coming car. He closed his eyes, hoping at least that it would be painless. Yet, the roar of the two engines came and went, leaving the terrified mage without harm.

Surprised, to say the least, Arin opened his eyes. As though they were made of noting but air, the two trains had phased through him effortlessly. His mouth hung agape, but he quickly pulled himself together and began to run toward the end of the tunnel. Just what is going on here? Arin thought as he climbed the steep grade to the tunnel exit, away from the tracks. Yet, the slope kept increasing the further he went. If he did not know any better, he would have thought that the slope actually was getting steeper. After slipping a couple of times, he finally reached the white light, an end to the darkness at last.

Unfortunately for the powerless mage, as soon as he crossed the threshold, the hope-giving light again turned into darkness. However, before the light vanished completely, he was able to get a glimpse of the path in front of him. Was that all an illusion? Arin thought. It mattered not to him though, what did matter was getting out of this place as soon as possible and finding an antidote to whatever now circulated through his veins.

Robbed of light once again, Arin went back to inching his way down the dank and dead-silent passage. The path steadily tilted down toward the core of the earth. Placing his hands on each wall, the mage felt his way down, periodically scrapping his hand on some of the rougher stones. Eventually, he got to the turn in the passage he saw with the fading light, and turned accordingly. Unfortunately, he was unaware of the staircase that awaited him after rounding the corner. Slipping on the hard stairs, the mage made it to the bottom in once piece, slamming into a wooden door that lay in wait.

Again, Arin picked himself off the floor, grabbing his staff to help him stand. Still sore from the fall, he placed his hand on the smooth, black, wood in front of him. He searched the door for its knob, preparing to face some kind of monster on the other side. Finding the knob to the door, he placed his bare hand on the knob, but quickly withdrew it. His skin burned upon contact, but not because it was hot. Whatever was on the other side was extremely cold.

Reaching into his pockets, the mage pulled out his gloves. Hopefully, they escaped the effects of the purple mist. Attempting the knob again, the mage twisted it, and dashed inside. Light bathed the room like nothing he had ever seen. A cathedral made of ice and snow met his weary eyes, reflecting light in all directions, enhancing it, making the mage squint his eyes to see properly.

A deep tremor struck the building, the door locking behind the mage in the same manner as the last. Huge, thirty-foot high walls of ice ascended from the snow-covered floor. The door on the other side, obscured from view, vanished behind the opaque ice sheets. He did not dare to move until the rumbling has ceased, sending the snow on the ground into a violent dance in the wind coming from where the light entered.

With the preceding calm now returned to the room, Arin ran into the icy labyrinth. As each minute died, he could feel a little more of the power that was sealed die away. “I have to get out of this place, and fast!” spoke Arin into the cavernous room. The wind began to pick up upon saying those words, as though the air around him wished him to stay for all eternity.

Yet, his determination was enough to help him force his way through the fierce windstorm. Snow that was once laying peacefully on the ground now impaired his vision, making navigation of this maze all but impossible. The bitter cold of the room would have frozen most other travelers, this fact made evident by the number of frozen carcasses spread throughout, but the mage remained unaffected. He was now certain that the purple mist had no effect on his clothes.

Snow began to build up anywhere it could, subsequently slowing the mage down even more so. He was so close to the exit of this foul and cold place that he could taste it, almost as much as he could taste the melting snow that had somehow made its way into his mouth. After rounding one last corner, he could see through the blinding flurries, the door he needed to exit. As he drew closer, another figure came into view. The body of a man lay in front of the door, huge icicles piercing though its now skeletal chest.

Booby-trapped, thought the mage after reviewing the scene. The wind suddenly lost its ferocity, allowing a crystal-clear view of the entire room. Sure enough, upon inspection of the door, Arin figured that turning the knob created enough vibration to cause the icicles above to fall, thus killing the target. With no other option, the powerless mage made his attempt at the door. He quickly turned the brass knob, this action causing the entire room to shake once more, and opened the door, back into the darkness that hounded him so.

Thunderous crashing sounded on the other side of the door, making the mage realize how lucky he was to be alive. Unlike the last time he came into the darkness, he had no idea of what the path ahead of him was like. It was only natural that he began to grew weary of all this darkness, but he soon chastised himself for such a though. I have to keep moving!

Using his staff, like a blind man would use a cane, Arin began his journey in this strange place anew. The rest of his senses went into overdrive, allowing him to hear the echoes of his feet, the feel of his staff hitting a loose brick, in addition to other things around him. Soon after entering the darkness, the mage could see a purple glow coming from around another corner. With no other choice, the mage quickly walked towards this welcome light source, hoping it would be the end of his ordeal.

Life, once again, played a joke on the mage. It was a large, circular room; complete with a swirling, glowing, purple liquid situated in a large, stone basin that emptied into a black hole. Scattered across this vast expanse was a complicated series of platforms and walkways, the height of which would strike fear into the heart of even the most veteran of tightrope walkers. Cursing the man who built this twisted place, Arin sucked up his initial fear, and began to move carefully to the first platform.

Looking down was no longer an option, any slight misbalance would end up in the mage falling, possibly to his doom. He had to move quickly and carefully as he felt more of his suppressed power fade away into nothingness. Once he made it onto the first platform, he realized his trek was only about to get harder. As soon as his feet touched it, various walkways and platforms began to move around in various directions. Some rotated; others went up and down, while most moved from side to side.

Arin groaned at the sight, Figures, everything gets harder as you go deeper, thought the mage. With great luck and timing, the powerless mage was able to get past most of the mobile obstacles that stood between him and the way out of this hellish nightmare. The fumes from the purple liquid began to make him feel dizzy after a while; making attempts to cross large gaps near, if not, impossible at best.

Within one hundred feet of the exit door, the mage came to a particularly difficult jump. The elevator platform he was on had to be at the right spot for him to jump on a horizontally moving platform that was mid-way in the elevator’s path. His timing would have to be near perfect in order for him to make it safely across. When the time was right, he pounced, lunging over the gap and over to the platform. However, his timing was just a little off. Instead of landing fully on the platform, he now hung suspended over the nauseating liquid, his hands barely holding on to the metal platform.

Using all of his strength, Arin managed to pull himself onto the grated platform, which was now on due course to the next obstacle. As the platform moved over the purple liquid, the mage had the chance to look at it without fear of falling. It was eerily beautiful in appearance, but looks can be deceiving. Knowing this, the mage broke his gaze, afraid it may hypnotize him somehow.

As the mage got closer to the end of the room, the dizzier he grew. The rest of the room, made up solely of rotating catwalks, must have been one of the more devious obstacles yet. The builder, probably knowing the effect of the foul liquid below, had obviously been in a sadistic mood while designing this section of the room. Normally, this would have been a piece of cake for the powerless mage, but now, these proved to be the most perilous obstacles yet.

Arin moved with great caution on the spinning platforms, some spinning faster then others. A few minutes, and a couple of close calls later, the mage found himself on the semi-firm ground on the grated platform on the edge of the room. “Whoever built this place should die!” Arin shouted to the cold, stone walls. He walked over to the door that led outside of the room, only to discover that he needed something sharp and pointy to disengage a lock on it. Looking to his now powerless staff, the mage gingerly placed the end in the slot; the door then accepted it and opened, revealing yet more darkness.

The door slammed shut behind the mage, eliminating all light from his eyes once again. Going back to his “blind man” routine, Arin had time to contemplate the situation he was now in. This place actually seems quite simple, thought the mage. This place is like a video game. First, you have a linear, dark path, followed by some sort of obstacle to block the player’s path. Assuming this, as well as playing into, what I call, the video game “law of three”, I am guessing there is at least on more obstacle before I reach my objective.

Naturally, I should expect the final hurtle to be the hardest and most devilish of them all. Arin continued to feel his way down the sloping, slick stone passage. He strained his ears, desperately trying to hear his footsteps echo so that he could tell how much farther it was until the next bend. Unlike the previous shrouded passages, this one twisted and turned much more often. The mage felt that this would make people lose their bearings, sending them on a much more dangerous and deadly path instead.

Sure enough, after a few hundred bends in the path, Arin felt that he had come to a crossroads. He tapped the walls with his staff to confirm his suspicion. Indeed, there was a two-way fork in the path in front of him, but which one would lead him to his goal? Robbed of the magic he needed to find out, the mage resorted to the usual stand-by: guessing.

Quickly deciding upon the left path, the mage continued on, hoping that his choice was correct the entire length of the straight passage. “This isn’t a natural darkness,” voiced the mage. In all his time of wandering in the darkness, he did not notice until this very moment, that his eyes did not, or could not, adjust to the darkness. Suddenly, a hole in the floor opened, causing the mage to go into another long fall.

Slipping along the slide-like tunnel, the mage could feel the air rush past his body, slowing him done. However, he was grateful of the wind this time. After all, there was no telling what lay on the bottom of the slide, and he wanted to be ready in case it turned out to be something deadly. The abnormal slide twisted and turned, corkscrewed and looped as well along its dark course. After what seemed like an eternity, the slide ended.

Arin landed hard on the damp, stone floor. The powerless mage pushed himself off the floor, secretly elated with the small bit of fun in this twisted and sadistic place. Standing to his full height, he brushed some of the ancient dust off the bottom of his robes, and continued down this new path. It was not long, however, until he came across another, more science-fiction looking, steel door.

It opened immediately after the mage ran into it, still unable to see, allowing light to once again flood into the dark and forlorn passage. The sight that met the young mages eyes would be one he would not soon forget. Beyond the threshold of the door lay an entirely new world. Gone were the dark and medieval-styled passages of the hellhole he had been stuck in for the past twenty minutes. Instead, there lay a new and modern world filled with light, and made of steel.

Stepping into the strange inverse to the rest of the area, the mage felt on-edge. Sure enough, when the doors slammed shut behind him Arin felt the most unusual feeling, as though he were now weightless. Looking toward the ground, he could see his feet no longer making contact. A sudden hiss of pressurized air threw the mage into high alert. Was there another poison coming after him to finish the job? His question solved itself when the door directly opposite of the entrance opened in front of him. Using the air pressure around him, the powerless mage was able to swim through the air and out the door. “Aw, crap!” Arin exclaimed. Through the crystal-clear walls of this final obstacle, he could see the entire maze; an intricate network of tunnels and rooms laced into each other.

Giving out a long, exasperated sigh, the mage began to make his way through this new and strange labyrinth. Maneuvering in the weightless environment proved a tall order; it was easy to start moving, but immensely difficult to stop without hitting your head on something. Arin had little time to perfect this art, with every minute more of his sealed power died.

After a while, Arin found that moving around weightless was a lot like swimming, except you did not need to come up to the surface to breath. With that in mind, getting around this final trial seemed to decrease in difficulty. In fact, if he did not think his life was at stake, he would have enjoyed his stay in this fantastic room immensely.

However much he may have enjoyed the sensation of weightlessness, there was no denying that this was not the time to enjoy it. Perhaps another time I will be able to experience weightlessness, but for now, I have to keep moving, thought Arin. Making his way through the remainder of the maze without incident, other then the occasional bump on the head, Arin was able to complete this obstacle faster then any of the others. Another set of steel doors, similar to the previous ones, allowed the mage to get back on his feet and continue onwards into even more indiscernible darkness.

Stumbling again through the misty darkness, the young mage continued on to the place he was searching for. After being lost in the labyrinth for what seemed like hours, the Arin had forgotten that he was on his way to his new teacher, and that the person he had been cursing had to be them. Blind from the dark mist, he, again, ran into another door. Picking himself up off the ground for what felt like the tenth time today, the mage placed his hand on the doorknob, and entered the room. “Finally, you arrive,” came a cold, unfeeling voice from beyond the darkness.

Assignment Time!

The sheer terror of the Dark Eye's voice chills Arin to the bone. The halucinations transform the shape of the Dark Eye into something horrific to Arin. The Dark Eye is busy working on an experiment, using MetaSkin compounds into corpses to determine a special serum. He won't explain it to you, you watch it instead. After the experiment is over, the Dark Eye will cure a portion of your condition, removing the halucinations but not returning his powers and strengths. Now, take in the Dark Eye, and describe him.

End your post with describing the Dark Eye. 3,000 word minimum.

A chill ran down the young mage’s spine, freezing him in place. Even though a feeling in his gut told him he had finally met the Dark Eye, he could not help but feel a slight pang of fear as the patter of not two, but a multitude of feet approached slowly from the choking darkness in front of his eyes. Readying his staff, despite his current lack of powers, he stood ready in case this proved to be another challenge as well.

Shapes began to form and twist in the abhorrent darkness that consumed the mage, the silhouette of what he first thought of a man, distorting into something completely different. His lower lip began to tremble as a multitude of red-beady eyes shone through, eight in total. “S-s-stay back!” Arin said defensively. If worse came to worse, he would have to use his staff as a club, or a spike, or a weapon of any kind to fend off the beast that drew close to him.

Strong, imposing pincers revealed themselves as light began to fill the room, tossing off the shackles of the darkness. A large head covered in hair as dark as night itself hung in front of Arin, just a couple of feet from his vulnerable flesh. Wishing to place as much distance between him and the monstrous spider’s head, he backed against the wall, holding his staff defensively.

The golf ball-sized eyes surveyed the mage, as though trying to figure how much meat rested on his bones. Indeed, the spider looked as though it hadn’t seen food in ages, only adding to the mage’s fear that he would become its next meal. Quickly taking one more step forward, the spider finished it’s survey, letting a small “humph!” as it turned around.

A wave of relief washed over Arin as he realized he wouldn’t become its next meal. Just not yet, at any rate. Despite himself, the mage felt his knees become weak, caving in to the strain from holding his body up. Sliding down the wall into a sitting position, the lights suddenly turned on in the dank and rather large dungeon.

Although still dimly lit, the many torches hanging on the wall were a sight for sore eyes to the mage, having grown weary of the endless darkness that consumed the Dark Eye’s lair. Water dripped almost soundlessly from the ceiling of the subterranean room, casting small puddles upon the surface of the uneven stone floor. However, the most noticeable thing in the entire room had to be the extensive array of tables, beakers, and other strange equipment the mage normally associated with alchemists.

Various liquids of all the colours of the rainbow filled the majority of the instruments on the tables, all of them producing smoke of a similar colour. Many of the highly reflective glass surfaces distorted whatever they reflected, like a funhouse he once visited at a carnival in the city. However, in the distance, resting on a table the monster spider walked to lay a man. At first instinct, the mage wanted to rush over and save him, unfortunately, once he got a better look at the man, he realized it would do no good. Judging from the gray complexion of the skin, the man had died quite some time before he arrived.

Still gripped with fear, the mage did not dare move from his spot to have a closer look, especially with such a large, disgusting creature hanging around. Although, the mage could not help but show his surprise when said creature approached one of the beaker-laden tables. Instead of smashing it, or demolishing it like he expected, the creature extended on of its limb, picking up a beaker.

How on earth… why on earth? Arin thought, puzzled at the sight. Shaking his head in disbelief, he watched on in awe as the spider gently poured the beaker’s contents into a large, spherical container. Just what is it doing? It didn’t eat me, at least not yet, so what could all of this mean?

Holding in his desired to ask questions, the mage sat there quietly instead. After all, he had no idea if this farce aimed for him to drop his guard, allowing him to become food for a deceptive arachnid. No, he wouldn’t drop his guard for anything, at least not until he met this Chronos guy. Only then would he consider it, after all, the man held responsibility for Arin’s current situation.

Watching on, the mage saw the purple liquid in the beaker marry the yellow liquid in the large container, somehow turning them both into a peculiar shade of green just a shade lighter then emerald. The spider nodded its head at this development, apparently satisfied by the results of the mixture. It then turned to a second beaker sitting above a Bosnian burner, the contents bubbling and steaming like a raging dragon.

Turning the burner off, the spider waited before it grabbed the beaker. Slowly adding it to the earlier mix, the green liquid turned into a royal blue that reminded Arin of the carpets in the dome’s halls. Nodding again in approval, the monster moved the burned under the mix chemicals, then crossed the room to work on something else.

The mage’s focus, however, remained on the mixture. Of course, he kept an eye on the monster spider as he watched the chemicals change colour. Staring into the mess of compounds, he felt almost entranced by it as small spots of different colours danced across the glass that separated them from the air. If he didn’t feel so much stress at the time, Arin figured he would have enjoyed himself a little more while he could.

Suddenly, a loud crash came from the desk the spider worked at. Instinctively, the mage turned his head around to see what happened, hoping the explosion killed the sin of a creature. Alas, the creature stood there, whole and unfazed by the blast. Cursing to himself, the mage saw that this too, was favorable to the creature’s goal.

Turning back to the other table, the mage in the strange robes saw the once blue liquid become almost clear. “Excellent,” the spider spoke, sending another shiver down Arin’s spine. He had the urge to ask what exactly the spider was doing; however, he thought it best to remain quiet. If he played his cards right, maybe he could sneak by and continue his search for Chronos.

Scurrying over to the first table, the spider cast a glance at the mage, causing his whole body to tense up. Did it anticipate he might be thinking along the lines of escape? It certainly seemed like so at the time. Quickly turning its head back to the experiment, the creature nodded in approval once more. Meanwhile, the mage sighed silently to himself; the chances of escape dwindling as he felt the last of his magic drain from his body.

Damn, he thought viciously. I’m completely out of magic now! What do I do? I can’t just beat that hideous monster to death! I need to start making a plan. Pondering, Arin continued to observe the creature’s experiment, hoping to find a way to extend it to allow for his escape. However, no such opportunity presented itself, the spider diligent in keeping track of what was going on.

Moving over to the body, the creature opened a small drawer that rested under the table. Reaching inside with one of its long, skinny and hairy legs, it withdrew a sharp scalpel, then loomed over, as though ready to attack. Before the sharp instrument even made contact with the dead skin, he jammed his eyes shut, not really a fan of the carnage and gore sure to come as the monster fed on the corpse’s innards.

Darkness returning to his eyes, the powerless mage strained his ears, not willing to have the monster creep up on him while he glued them shut. However, he heard nothing that sounded like the consumption of flesh and organs. Opening his eyes just enough to squint, he saw the spider carefully cutting open the body, not a look of thirsting for blood on what little he could see of its face. At least, not yet.

Reaching inside, the monster began to rummage around in the chest cavity of the deceased man. A horribly macabre scene, regardless of circumstance, the mage twisted his head away from the scene. Opting to find the course of the explosion, all he saw was what looked like a metallic substance. He had no clue what the substance was, and he had no desire to find out.

Doing what it needed to the dead body, the spider scurried over to the metallic object, snatching it in on of its grotesque legs. Casting another gaze at the powerless mage, he got the distinct feeling that it was going to keep a close eye on him. All chance of escape left Arin’s mind; instead he may have to fight his way to freedom instead of weaseling his way out of another tricky situation.

He felt under siege, like the time he, a dark elf, and a strange man by the name of nikudemon found themselves trapped in another world. While there, he found the majority of the populous feared mages. Indeed, he found himself captured by those who keep the mages under foot. He only escaped when he and a fellow captive mage blasted their way out. Alas, at that time he could still use magic, easily overcoming the mechanical devise the suppressed it.

However, now the suppressant existed inside him, in the form of that gas he inhaled. Although Arin had no clue how the gas took away his magic, he could not deny its usefulness. Quickly remembering the ever-growing conflict between magic and technology, the mage could not help but think that technology might just eclipse magic. No, he thought suddenly. That will never happen. Never, right?

Inserting the object in the corpse, the spider moved back to the now crystal-clear liquid sitting in the spherical container. Taking it off the heat of the burner, it placed it near the corpse, allowing it to cool a little. Sidestepping a little, it reached into another drawer in the side of the metallic table. A brown bottle of liquid rested in its legs as it pulled out another beaker in addition. Pouring the contents, as brown as the bottle in colour, into the beaker, it placed it over the burner as well.

Taking a deep breath, knowing this move could very well be his last; the mage spoke to the monster spider. “E-excuse me, but w-what are you doing?” Twisting its head toward him slowly, a fresh wave of terror washed over the tired and powerless mage. At first, he though the creature would kill him, or hurt him very badly at least. Instead, it ignored the mage, turning back to its gruesome work.

It doesn’t seem like it has an interest in eating me, Arin figured. Still, I cannot take the chance that it doesn’t see me as a source of food. I mean, they eat their own mates, for goodness sake! Beginning to perspire a little from the stress and anxiety, the mage fond the strength to get to his feat again. Slowly rising to full height, he received a much better view of what he found to be a laboratory.

Extending for what looked like the length of a football field, the room littered with corpses, resembled a morgue with tables upon which sat glass containers, holding a myriad of different liquids and gasses. Blinking in awe at the sight, he almost forgot about the massive, over six-foot tall spider standing at one of the many tables. If he did not fear for his life, he probably would’ve found the spiders activities fascinating.

Slowly, the brown liquid inside the test tube came to a boil, casting a noxious smell into the air that reminded the mage of a gym bag that hadn’t touched water in years. Plugging his nose to stop himself from passing out, he saw the spider carry on as thought nothing happened. Of course, it had no nose to speak of, so how could it smell such a horrid stench?

When the liquid evaporated to about one third of its original volume, the spider took it off the burner. Then, after it emptied the spherical container into a large metal bucket, it poured what remained in the vial into the previously used container. However, as it did so, it used a fine strainer to separate the liquid from a crystalline substance that developed inside the tube. Purple crystals spilled onto the metal table as it pulled the strainer away, scattering on a tray underneath like droplets from a light rain.

Picking up the crystals with one of its skinny legs, the spider dropped them in the bucket with the clear substance. Arin could tell it turned the same shade of purple as the crystals because of the wavy reflection it cast upon the dark ceiling. Mush like and aurora, the colours began to dance in the air for some inexplicable reason. Just what on earth was this creature doing anyway?

The creature, much more involved in its work then the previous few minutes, paid the mage no heed at all, not even casting the occasional glance at him. Still, the powerless mage in the multicoulured robes did not move a single inch, still fearing for his life in the presence of the ambitious arachnid. He slowly inched his way to the left, trying to get a better view from behind the massive, hairy abdomen that the creature showcased.

Reaching over to the spherical container with the brown liquid, the monster poured it in only when the aurora began to fade, energizing it once again as it turned a shade of orange. The mage could not help put let out a small exclamation of awe, a gesture, thankfully, lost to the hairy spider. Nodding again in what seemed like satisfaction, the spider picked up the metal bucket, carrying it closer to the corpse, now black in most places from whatever the object did.

Placing the bucket on the counter carefully, it adjusted some controls on a panel hanging under the side of the surface. The sound of flames igniting reached his ears, feeling flabbergasted as flames encircled the bottom circumference of the pot. How could a creature like this conjure fire on a flat surface without using some kind of magic? Alas, an answer escaped him, forcing him to come to conclusion that technology proved responsibility for this as well.

As the temperature increased inside the pot, the aurora coming from the surface of the pool intensified in movement and colour, giving off the impression it was a living, breathing entity. Finally coming to a boil, the mystical show of light ceased, throwing off only coloured fumes instead of the beautiful display usually found only at the poles.

Boiling the liquid down to almost nonexistence, the spider turned off the massive burner, pouring the contents into the corpse after putting on heat-resistant gloves. The creature loomed over the subject, looking for any change in condition after administration of the new serum. Alas, after five minutes of waiting, nothing happened to either the corpse or the spider.

No longer looming over the corpse, the spider moved again, this time, over to a small cabinet hanging on the far wall of the room. Rummaging around in it until it pulled out a small vial, the creature scurried over to a nearby desk, pulling out a syringe form it. Worry and anxiety began to take hold over the mages body once more as the creature approached him once more.

Sticking the end of the needle into the vial, it pulled on the device at the end, drawing some of the yellow liquid into the syringe. Quickly pinning the mage where he stood, the head of the spider drew closer. Nothing Arin could do now would matter, for no matter what he did, it seemed like he would never see the warm embrace of the sun ever again.

A slight prick of pain radiated from his shoulder as the spider seemed to growl at him. Looking over to the source of the pain, Arin found the syringe embedded into his skin, slowly depositing the yellow liquid into his bloodstream. Looking back to the menacing spider, it began to blur and distort, in fact, most of the room began to follow suit.

Felling the unconsciousness would soon creep over his brain; the mage found it strange the spider backed up, turning into a more human shape. Furthermore, the other objects in the room distorted; twisting and bending shape like rubber. No longer was it a dank dungeon, but a sophisticated dungeon. “Huh?” Arin spoke as the spider miraculously turned human.

Closing his eyes in an attempt to clear them, he opened them once more to behold an astonishing sight. The spider completely vanished from existence, replaced by a man standing in front of him. However, as the mage would soon discover, this hardly made an improvement.

Behemoth; that would be the only way he could sum up the man in one word. The most striking thing about him had to be how he towered over Arin, quite a feat considering the mage measured over six feet tall. However, sheer stature wasn’t the only thing going for him, in addition to his height the man bared muscles of unbelievable size, showing off what had to be unbelievable physical strength.

A dark metallic substance covered his body much like the stuff on the corpse he experimented on earlier, giving off an air of mystery around him. Unlike the corpse, however, Arin could not see a single space in which this armor did not cover. Even his face, or lack thereof, showed nothing but utter blackness. Actually, he couldn’t say it covered everything, for his copper hair broke through the otherwise impenetrable field of armor.

Aside from the obvious, the only thing remarkable about, as Arin assumed, the Dark Eye had to be the large, purple staff hanging from his back. However, the mage felt no magical presence coming from it, even though he could still feel the magic in his staff despite his current lack of power. Not to mention the magician found it a little odd he only wore black pants, black shoes, a black trench coat, and a black belt with green spots on the front, like a wrestler belt.

OoC: I said I would deliver, and I did. Plus 105 words. ^_^

Excellent, but I'm afraid I notice a large amount of pandering to my love of horror. The description of the spider is vague, suggesting that Arin either did not wish to look at it in depth, or that he simply could not see it. Whatever the case, the spider is very interesting, as there are different kinds of spiders that do a variety of things. One must always be attentive to detail, as subtle hints like these can express a writer's true intentions. I also looked on with interest at your description of Chronos, not the spider. It is good you do not fear reality.

Assignment Time!

Your teacher has appeared before you, but your powers remain strangely dormant. Your teacher, in his curt way, explains the compound you have been given, and that such a compound requires training to overcome. A scientific man, the Dark Eye informs you that he will be observing your progress. Now, the thing I wish to observe in Arin is his reaction to this unorthodox training method. After all, Chronos has stripped him of his power, and put him through a great deal without even meeting with him. Explore your character's emotions. I will be watching to see what you do.

I'd like 1,500 words, please.

OoC: You asked for me to condense my writing with a 1,500 word maximum, (or so I interprt from your post and PM) and I have delivered under said limit without skimping on how he feels about all this.

BiC:
Despite wearing a mask devoid of any features, Arin could feel the cold stare of the Dark Eye nonetheless. A powerful feeling of inferiority sprung from his heat, causing him to remain quiet and submissive in the presence of the behemoth. Still clueless about the metal-clad man’s identity, the mage quickly decided to remain quite and see what would happen next.

As though reading his mind, the same cold and eerie voice that came from the spider escaped from his lip-less face, saying, “I am your teacher.”

The rainbow-clad mage could not help but find this rather strange in a teacher. All his previous teachers had either put on a spectacular show, or introduced themselves as well as greeting him to their tutelage. Not this guy though, he could tell from this simple sentence, plus the letter, the Chronos preferred to get right to the point instead of dancing around the subject like most other people. Initially, Arin thought he might like this person.

However, all his hopes would crumble when the Dark Eye gave him the news. Strangely, the mage could not feel any of his powers come back, despite the antidote now circulating in his veins. “What the heck?” Arin stated, not aware he spoke those words aloud. “Why haven’t my powers come back yet? Didn’t you give me the antidote!?”

“I did,” the Dark Eye responded curtly. “However, your powers will not come back so easily.”

“What!?” Arin expressed, slowly becoming enraged. “What do you mean they won’t come back so easily? What did you do to me?!” He clutched his fists in the bout of rage he now felt burning deep in the pit of his stomach. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to jump on the metallic man and try to beat him to a pulp, armour or not. He didn’t care how futile or how stupid it was, if he gave him a reason to, the mage would attack despite being as weak as a normal human.

“When you first entered the door to my lab,” Chronos spoke. “A Gas of my design filled the room, causing your powers to go into dormancy. Without the antidote, this change is permanent. However, I did give you the antidote, so I see no logical reason for your anger.”

“That doesn’t matter,” the mage said through clenched teeth. “It’s the principle of the thing! First, you put me through all the trouble just to get here, then you tell me this and expect me not to get angry!? You have issues, and I’m not just talking about your skin!” He could feel his primal urges to jump the Dark eye beginning to grow by the second, increasingly cutting out thought from the process. No mater what he said now, the metallic warrior would never redeem himself in the mages eyes for all he put him through.

“Petty insults will get you nowhere,” the Dark Eye continued. “Yes, your powers are now dormant. All you need to do to recover them is endure my training. You have proven yourself worthy by surviving thus far. I will observe your progress during your training so I can eventually deem you fit to leave. That is all.”

No words could quell the anger and hatred that now dwelled deep in Arin’s heart. Regardless of the Dark Eye’s words, he still found his methods brutish and largely unnecessary. Still, he held his tongue, knowing his new teacher could make his life much harder should he choose to rebel. Resigning himself to his teaching, he kept the anger burning inside while hiding it from external view; a feat he increasingly became more skilled in.

“Well then,” Arin spoke, trying to keep his emotions hidden from his teacher. “It would seem I have no choice but to train under you and get my powers back. Just keep in mind I find your methods less then desirable.” Anger began to subside, malice and distaste replacing it as the mage continued to fume under the principals of the Dark Eyes teachings. Still, he’d come back to the dome on his own accord and he would stand by his decision regardless of the outcome.

With the Dome being the sentient being that it was, the mage could only be angry at the circumstances. If it willed him to be under the wing of the Dark Eye, then it must’ve had a perfectly good and logical reason for it. Or at least, he hoped so. Id better get my powers back, the mage in the multi-coloured robes thought. Or else I will make sure Chronos will pay, even if it kills me.

Looking up at the behemoth, he sighed in another attempt to hide his true feelings from the cold, metal-clad teacher. “So, what’s the first task then?”

Very good. I am impressed at how you have managed to portray your charcter. There is a slight difficulty I would like to share with you: ninety-seven percent of all human communication is nonverbal. Actions speak louder then words, so try to remember that. After all, Chronos isn't someone to be phased by words, as you accurately showed.

Assignment Time!

The Dark Eye dismisses you from his sight for the day. He wishes to finish his experiment and, as such, bids you to go to a door which will lead you back to your room in the Dome. He asks you to train, grow accustomed to your new power restriction, and return to him to the next day to begin your studies under him. Return to your room and reflect on your loss.

I would like a limited amount of words. 2,000 or less, if you please.

OoC: Done! I hope there's enough reflection for you. =P

BiC:
A long silence proceeded the mage’s statement, possibly for dramatic effect or because the metallic man genuinely thought it over. In the unsettling darkness of the dungeon, and the awkward silence that filled it, he found himself fidgeting, eager to get on with the training and get his powers back. However, the Dark Eye had other things in mind.

“You’re first assignment,” he started, “will have to wait until tomorrow.”

Arin could not help but let his jaw fall at the statement. After all that trouble, all the hardships he went through to finally meet his ‘teacher’ were for nothing more then a brief introduction, only to be blown aside like a pesky leaf in the breeze? Under normal circumstances, he would not stand for something like this. Alas, he remembered he no longer had the power to do anything about it. Instead, he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Why can’t I begin now?” He inquired.

“I wish to finish my experiment. You would only be a hindrance, which I do not need. Therefore, I am sending you back to your room until tomorrow, when my experiment is complete. Then, your training shall commence.”

The mage in the multicoloured robes looked to the floor, slightly disappointed his will was just as hard as his skin. Sighing a little, he looked back into the face of the Dark Eye as he continued his speech. “Go through that door,” he said, gesturing to it. The steel door looked as cold as the mage felt, it’s dull gray resembling much of the surrounding masonry, almost hiding it from view. “It will lead you back to your room,” he continued. “Use that time to train and become used to your new power restriction, if you wish.”

With that, the giant of a man turned his back to the student, no doubt to resume his experiment. During the course of their brief chat, the mage’s initial anger faded into despair. Maybe it was the power restriction, or the general feel of the dungeon? He didn’t know, nor did he really care. His fatigue from the day had finally caught up to him, leaving him physically and emotionally drained. So, without so much as a rebuttal, he walked toward the door Chronos pointed out, using his staff to keep on his feet.

Walking toward the door, he paid no mind to his teacher, or what he did at this moment, uncaring about anything other then the soft embrace of a warm bed and its covers. He placed on of his gloves in his pocket as he turned the knob of the steel door with his gloved hand, opening it to reveal the interior of his room from the closet door. Walking through the threshold, he put the second glove in his other pocket, and shut the door behind him.

Looking to the clock standing just to his left, the mage realized why he felt so tired all of a sudden. The hands of the clock told him that a significant amount of time passed since he left. Before he left for the lab, it hadn’t even reached nine in the evening. Now, the clock told him it was one in the morning. Opening the closet door again, he took off his hat and placed it on the small shelf within. After kicking off his boots and socks, he trudged barefoot back to his bed, falling on it like a tree to a lumberjacks axe.

He very much wanted to train a little and get used to his new restrictions, but when he tried to get up, he found he was too tired to stay up, falling back onto the bed. Alright, I give up, he thought. Arin decided to ditch his training plan, instead opting for a bit of reflection on the day’s events, like he usually did when he retired for the night.

Well, the day looked like it would be one of the better ones… until I got that stupid letter, The mage fumed. I mean, honestly, what is that guy’s problem? He just gasses people, puts them through hell, and expects them not to get pissed or angry? Then again, he seems a bit out of touch with reality, what with that weird experiment and that metallic skin.

Looking on the bright side of things… this power drain might actually benefit me. I mean, how often have I relied on my spells to get me out of jams, where in hindsight I could’ve easily escaped without magic? Quickly reflecting, he saw many instances where he could’ve used other means to escape a situation. I guess I’ll have to give the dome a little more credit from now on.

After releasing a tired sigh, the mage got up, pulled aside the covers to his bed, and trudged over to the bathroom. After taking care of his pre-bed routine, he stripped down to his boxers and turned out the light, climbing eagerly into bed. After tossing around for a few minutes to find a good position, his mind began to settle and reflect a little more.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day. I mean, my last teacher let me go relatively soon, maybe Chronos will do the same? No matter, I will give it my all and get my powers back, He concluded, slipping into the depths of sleep a short while after shutting his eyes for the night.

Assignment Time!

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, the Dark Eye's personal assistant, a happy Domerii, appears to beckon you awake. After you prepare and dress, the ghost tells you that the Dark Eye wishes to see you, outside in the Gardens. On your way there though, keep this in mind: Arin has been depowered. Thus, he might be viewed as a bit puny by some of the other pupils. Try to avoid confrontation, but a fight is inevitable!

End your post arriving at the garden, near the fountain where Chronos is standing. 1,500 word minimum.