A Night Out, Brought to you By Satan! [Private/Rain/Ahote]

It was nearing midnight for the Basilisks inside their cold, stone fortress. By this point, many were asleep, and even more were lurking about the dungeons or perhaps in the corridors. It was not unusual to find several lurkers at this hour for reasons unknown to Ahote, who was normally tucked away in his candle-lit room. He was far too tired to get up and move around, and instead laid on his bed with arms crossed behind his head and legs sprawled out over the mattress, staring at the stone ceiling above. He said nothing, breathed quietly, and sighed.

Maybe I should go talk to Yuiisai, he might be up, Ahote thought to himself, stroking his chin in thought. He might be asleep at this hour, actually. It’d be embarrassing to walk in and disturb him… The boy sighed, taking both hands and rubbing his cheeks sleepily. It was one of those nights where Ahote wanted to crash after many days of work and power napping, as his sleeping schedule was rather peculiar and didn’t sleep as much as other kids his age. He wouldn’t know that, of course.

Ahote looked over at his bookshelf, realizing that there were many books he hasn’t even started yet. They were all thick, dusty, and aged and the language a bit different, making it difficult to read as quickly as he could with a modern text. The thought of having to annotate and paraphrase every other paragraph made him feel less and less wanting to read them. Ahote’s brows furrowed and turned on his side, turning his back to the majority of the room and his face facing the clean, stone walls. He had nothing else to do, and would have to be left alone with his thoughts until he fell asleep.

Ahote would stare at his small reflection on his prosthetic, left arm. Often times, he didn’t have any specific emotion associated with the incident that caused this, just the overwhelming pain and fear of his own self.  I’m pathetic… afraid of using magic in a world of magic. But that pain, that terrible, terrible pain… Ahote thought to himself, burying his face into his arms and wrapping his legs around the blankets with sad, dull eyes. Being alone with his thoughts gave him an hour of hearing the gentle tap of blizzard winds against his frosty, dusty window. Feeling his hairless, smooth legs brush up against the large, wool blankets and his head pressed against a stack of pillows. Smelling the scented wax in the air as it entered into his lungs and seeing only nothing as he closed his eyes and drifted into a faraway, deep sleep. The boy was far too tired. Far too tired to think, to try, to worry, to exist in this moment. Ahote closed his eyes as the strength in his arms began to fade into limpness. For the rest of the night, he thought, maybe, just maybe…

I’ll disappear, for now.

Rain.

The singular braid behind Rain's plague doctor mask was flapping through the winds that blew softly through the sky, a gentle tapping of the keys of a piano soaring through the wind around them as they flew. They had taken one of the instruments from the orchestra inside the castle and used it to fly to the Guild hall of the Basilisks. Drip and Drop were both sitting on the seat that was connected magically to the piano but still levitated on its own, while Rain sat on the edge of the piano's lid with her long, black boots and tights blowing through the winds that they were floating through. They were quickly approaching the guild hall, and she only had one objective. She really wanted to smoke with someone, considering she did not feel the urge to sleep and wanted to have someone else over at her castle. She wished to lurk around the halls of the guild hall and find one of her acquaintances, one that she did not have over before- this would be Yuiisai, Ahote, or Aioai. The piano landed in-front of the hall and planted its legs into the snow, causing Rain to hop off and plant her boots in the snow and grab her briefcase with her cards and potions inside if she needed them.

Her shadow finally was cast into the hall of the building, her long, black and white dress being greeted with a long blazer to match the proportions. She looked rather different than she usually did, as she sometimes would go through moments where she would switch from Eastern to Western or perhaps styles in the middle of the bunch. A top-hat lining the upper sanctum of her head and mask, she certainly looked to be a fright to people that did not experience much of a scare in their lives. However, being in a dark guild, she did not suspect that anyone would be afraid of her current appearance in this hour. She was walking alone, as her two servants and companions were manning the piano. It was only her and her briefcase walking through these silent halls, the only noise being the gentle tapping of her shoes and the occasional sounds of guild-mates talking, or doing other things.. She was peering through small cracks of doors and looking at people sleeping, until her eyes caught a room with candles burning and lighting the room slightly because of them.

"Ahote." she thought to herself, as she slowly opened the door and looked around the room. The room looked to fit him perfectly, with bookcases lining the walls and candles being lit near the windows. He looked to be asleep at this time, curled up in blankets and pillows that appeared soft. Rain walked over to each of the candles and blew them out softly, making no noise known of the action as the room progressively got darker and darker. Once she finally reached the final candle near him she blew it out and wrapped him in a blanket, gently picking him up and placing him in her arms like a cradling motion. Her briefcase was now connected to her belt with a clasp, and she began to walk out of the room with the sleeping boy wrapped in a blanket toward the exit of the guild hall. Once she reached the exit, she slowly climbed back upon the lid of the piano and proceeded to still hold Ahote in her arms with the blanket wrapped around his body to prevent the cold. The piano slowly lifted itself into the air and began to fly toward the castle, but it would be a decently long trip. For now she sat with Ahote in her arms and stared through her mask into the mountains they were crossing, feeling nothing but a craving for her tobacco and cannabis. Drip and Drop began to play a delicate and slower song on the piano, invisible to the eyes of Ahote if he were to wake up.

"Let's go smoking, kiddo."

What is magic? Maybe to a child, it was the disappearing and reappearing jewel that street magicians often did when they passed by. To adults, perhaps it was the miracle that solved their problems. But what was magic to a wizard? Was it a destructive curse? A blessing? Or it simply existed? Many men and women would have many different answers if Ahote decided to ask this question. Some thought it was power, some thought it was evil, some thought it was given by the gods. But Ahote? Ahote was only reminded of the incident when he thought of magic. The pain, the shock, the relief of it being over. But before this, and even now, Ahote had always loved magic. No matter how cruel in nature it was, he found beauty in all forms. Even the flames that consumed him, and stole part of his own self from him. When witnessing spells cast from his parents or peers, he often, even in brief, wanted to be like them. To be able share the same fascination for magic with them. There were times where he wanted power from the magic, the ability to reign over others by magical brawn. Sometimes he just wanted to simpler things with his magic, like lighting candles or firing up a gas burner. This wall of fear and hesitation that blocked him from his own magical capabilities seemed to have blocked him from another part of the world he lived in.

On other days, he’d feel a familiar tickle in his wrist. It would sometimes sting, and he would break into a cold sweat. Like an itch deep below his skin, in his hot blood, that needed to be scratched, but couldn’t. The often felt the heat of a fire tickle his skin, but no flames nor blisters to be found. It was times like these that his fears were grimly reawoken from the back of his head as a reminder of past events. But his growing curiosity and eagerness began to rival the seemingly insurmountable doubt and fear he had accumulated since the incident with Sol, and as it was, he couldn’t fight it off for much longer. Eventually, he would have to explore the same power that destroyed him.

The rush of thoughts seemed everlasting, leaving Ahote wanting to wake up. Being alone with his thoughts was perhaps the times when he was most distressed. The isolation, the only company being himself. But was he alone? The boy winced as a sharp chilliness kissed his cheeks, leaving his nose and ears red from the snowy breeze he was so familiar with. Beginning to wake up, Ahote realized that his bed felt smaller and rougher than before he laid down, and couldn’t feel a pillow cushion his head anymore but instead substituted by being enveloped in blankets. Not before long, however, Ahote felt his entire upper body feel the same chill his face did, causing his to wake up in the moment.

“. . .Mmm?” Ahote moaned and yawned as he quietly lifted his head to not find a candle-lit room or scattered sheets of paper, but snow and darkness in the near distance. It took a moment or two for Ahote to realize that this was not a dream, as his expression of fear and shock seemed to show it all. He looked left, then right, up, down, all the directions one could comprehend before he broke into a cold sweat and his skin went as pale as a ghost. He seemed to be too shocked for words until he turned to look at just who snatched him away from the comfort of his own home. To his discomfort, it didn’t appear to be anyone he knew. Instantly, Ahote retaliated, “EHHHHH?! WHO ARE YO-...!” Ahote screeched before his skin reduced to a paleness that no person could seemingly, humanly reach upon seeing what height he was at. “EYAAAA! PUT ME DOWN! DOWN, DOWN, DOOOOWN! NNNNGH!” Ahote screams reached a pitch equivalent of a little girl. He was nearly about to faint!