A Scripta

Grim locked the door to the magic room, and turned slowly to face the chest. It looked like a simple Circle of Thorns chest, no glowing, buzzing, humming, or strange runes on it. He went over to it and lifted its lid. They didn't even lock it.

Inside were about twenty tear drop shaped glass vials, about a foot long each, of different hues and colors. He thought he could see some of them have items swirling in them, but if he focused on them, they just were a different color. He could see his, a dark navy blue with dark gold swirls. He took it and held it up. Inside was liquid which swished around when he moved the vial back and forth.

They took it out through his ear, and he didn't know if he could - or should - stick it in his ear and pour it back. He went to Pyre's grimoire, and put his hand on a blank page to see what answers it would give. Ingest, imbibe, inject.

Grim looked at the vial. "Well, bottom's up." He put his mouth on the tip and tilted the vial up. The liquid was warm on his tongue, tasting like warm, but slightly thick, water. He drank it all, feeling the warmth go down his throat to his stomach. He waited.

The vial changed color, back to a clear glass, then started cracking. It fell apart in his hand. At the same time, he felt warmth, pleasant and gentle, like a blanket covering his nerves and body, bringing him peace, and strength, and memory. The knowledge of the runes came back immediately, and he laughed at the simplicity of them.

Still filled with that peaceful feeling, he turned again to the chest. He sat down in front of it and pulled out the vials one by one. The ones that he thought had items actually did, like a bird in one, and a flowering rose in another. All had markings in corrupted Theban, that looked like names or parts of names. The symbols were written in different hands, different styles, but the same corrupted language. He guessed that a higher mage had his acolytes do the work - was there someone in that lair that this chest belonged to?

"Oh well," Grim said, and started putting some of them back. He stopped, staring at one, silver with black lines twining through it, and the letters SKL in Theban etched on it. He peered inside it, but couldn't see beyond the silver glass. Grim put the rest back, but kept this one out.

The warmth had faded, but the knowledge, luckily, had not. Mage curiosity got the better of him. "All I need to do is the same thing," he said to himself. To be sure, he went into the magic circle with it and called a protective circle. He sniffed the opening of the vial - it smelled of anise. He could stand that.

He tipped the vial into his mouth and it tasted horrible, like mud and mint, hot pepper and candle wax. He forced it down, all of it, and waited for the warmth to fill him. Again, the glass became clear, and shattered in his hand.

Nothing happened at first. "Well, that--"

I AM SKYLITE!

Grim fell to his knees as his persona slipped away, and he thought for a fleeting moment that he was Skylite, Heroic Mage of Mirrors and Glass, real name Cassandra Dawn, married to the hero Flightpath, with three daughters--

NO. Grim dragged himself back into the forefront of his mind. He didn't realize that he was curled up on the floor, his body contracted in spasms. I am Michael LeBonte, Grimaulkin, I know runes, I'm loved by Stefan--

SKYLITE! Each personae fought for dominance. He saw memories of Skylite, her long (fake) red hair cascading forward as she cast a spell along the glass, drawing images out from them that became solid and real. He saw her memories of her daughters, how she trained them in magic with her husband watching, amused, and the love that they shared...

GRIMAULKIN! Roughly, he shoved her memories and essence aside in his mind. What remained was her spellwork. He took all that in, absorbing it into his own psyche. He coldly and calmly detatched her persona from the spellwork, like taking color out of a picture. Her persona, being slowly dismantled, tried to constantly reform, her voice and essence getting smaller and smaller. Finally, he savagely used runes of destruction upon the persona remaining. It shattered in a million pieces, like the glass he was rolling in.

He came back to himself, breathing hard. He hurt everywhere, inside and out. He waited, unfocusing, not wanting to go traipsing in his mind again. He didn't know how long he lay there, breathing, his eyes closed. The pain subsided until it was a dull ache, and he pulled himself out of the fetal position. He took a deep, deep breath, causing another ache.

He sat up. The barrier of the circle remained, the door to the room still locked. He wanted to lie right back down. He crawled to the edge of the circle and banished it, then lay face-first on the floor. Rest a little more...

Finally he felt like he could move. He got up, and climbed out of the circle in the floor. He stood on shaking legs, and looked for the glass on the floor. It had turned into piles of dust.

Mage of Mirrors and Glass, he thought, and called up the spells in his mind. A warmth filled his chest, power ready to be used. He looked down at his chest, and it glowed with a silvery-grey light. The glow flowed down his arm to his right hand, his projective hand. He uttered a spell, and a small glass orb, the size of a golf ball, formed in his hand. Gold swirlings covered it, constantly shifting.

Gods, he had a headache. He brought the ball to the magical chest and placed it inside it. As soon as he did, though, it turned to dust.

He suffered through the headache, and left the magic room. As he did, he went through the spells, of the things that he could do now. According to Skylite's beliefs, anything glass or a mirror had imprinted on it the images of whatever passed on them or through them. She could view the images in glass or the mirror.  She could also create an image in the glass, and pull those out as illusions. This extended to any reflective surface, including water, computer screens, and TV screens. She could also tint the glass darker or lighter at a touch.

However, he lost concentration when he saw Pyre, and saw that she wanted to apologize...