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MadAlice · 05-11-2024, 06:13 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Helios Sunrider

As David and Jane worked their magics, something pure and new rose from the depths of the dark entity, lifting to the upper half of the container. A single tendril from the black mass held tight to Jane's germ of an experiment, threatening to drag it back under.

With a single stroke the thread was severed. The bright future was unburdened by a dark past. In place of his trusty staff, Damian was holding a shining sword. The goblin silver blade had a shimmering rainbow edge, so sharp was it that even light would be cut into its constituent spectral colors. He had kept it hidden since the end of the war, never expecting he would need to use it again.

"Oh, well done, Damian!" muttered Jane almost under her breath, she was concentrating on the rising brightness. The moment she saw Damian's sword (and what kind of sword was that, exactly? she would have to ask Damian about that...later...) slice away the last tendril of darkness, her wand darted out and the narrow opening between the top globe and the bottom was closed in an instant.

As Jane weaved her wand in and out, the to globe very slowly began to rise, creeping further and further away from the writhing blackness in the bottom globe, until at last the crystalline orb with the bright, living germ of Jane's alchemical working inside was floating high above, near the ceiling of the Death Chamber.

Breathing a small sigh of relief (but not relaxing her guard), Jane spared a glance at David, wondering if he was indeed going to try to take a sample--and if so, where he was going to keep the thing. Not, she hoped, in the Death Chamber--they'd had just about enough of that. Behind her, down below on the pedestal that held the ragged, eerie curtains hanging from the archway, came the faint, incoherent whispers that one could hear in the Death Chamber, if one was still and listened. But these murmurings seemed just a bit louder; Jane could have almost sworn they seemed angry, if she had been the sort of person to imagine things (which she was not, thank you very much).

05-11-2024, 06:13 PM	#60 (permalink)
MadAlice Puffskein Join Date: Aug 2011 Location: Houston, Texas Posts: 2,394 Hogwarts RPG Name: Hope Archard Ravenclaw Fifth Year	Quote: Originally Posted by Helios Sunrider As David and Jane worked their magics, something pure and new rose from the depths of the dark entity, lifting to the upper half of the container. A single tendril from the black mass held tight to Jane's germ of an experiment, threatening to drag it back under. With a single stroke the thread was severed. The bright future was unburdened by a dark past. In place of his trusty staff, Damian was holding a shining sword. The goblin silver blade had a shimmering rainbow edge, so sharp was it that even light would be cut into its constituent spectral colors. He had kept it hidden since the end of the war, never expecting he would need to use it again. "Oh, well done, Damian!" muttered Jane almost under her breath, she was concentrating on the rising brightness. The moment she saw Damian's sword (and what kind of sword was that, exactly? she would have to ask Damian about that...later...) slice away the last tendril of darkness, her wand darted out and the narrow opening between the top globe and the bottom was closed in an instant. As Jane weaved her wand in and out, the to globe very slowly began to rise, creeping further and further away from the writhing blackness in the bottom globe, until at last the crystalline orb with the bright, living germ of Jane's alchemical working inside was floating high above, near the ceiling of the Death Chamber. Breathing a small sigh of relief (but not relaxing her guard), Jane spared a glance at David, wondering if he was indeed going to try to take a sample--and if so, where he was going to keep the thing. Not, she hoped, in the Death Chamber--they'd had just about enough of that. Behind her, down below on the pedestal that held the ragged, eerie curtains hanging from the archway, came the faint, incoherent whispers that one could hear in the Death Chamber, if one was still and listened. But these murmurings seemed just a bit louder; Jane could have almost sworn they seemed angry, if she had been the sort of person to imagine things (which she was not, thank you very much).