2007-12-17 (PreU) Death of Magus

From TwistedMUCK
Jump to: navigation, search

Death of Magus

Summary: "Death is not the greatest of evils; it is worse to want to die, and not be able to"

The final goodbye for a friend of mine. People have lots of feelings about it, but I know mine. My regret is that things could not have worked out better but perhaps this is for the best. Requiescat In Pace, Magus-kun.

Who: Flea, Magus
When: December 17th, 2007
Where: Chronos


The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.

It's a dismal night on the island of Choras. A powerful sea-storm had blown in off the coast, resulting in heavy rain, loud thunder and lightning that constantly streaks across the sky. ... Perfect night for a stroll, apparently, if one is like Magus. The dark mage strolls... which, for Magus means he floats, nothwards on the main road from Choras. On a night like this, most might stay indoors, but he finds it the perfect night to visit the grave of a hero. If he can even get there. The guards were, of course, still doing their job. Holding their positions in front of the old tomb. Sometimes, Magus feels like blasting them out of his way, but he knows to do that would only draw un-needed attention. Still, as the rain soaks his hair and falls into his face, he makes his way there.

Flea was not far away. Her own encampment was well guarded, and she began to draw money and power for Mystics once more. Of course... there was a little matter to settle with a former employer. Walking along the road, she found herself following after Magus on the road, staying back to give him his distance, but waiting for him to recognize her. She seldom approached him without him knowing she was there... plus... after the murder of Zeal... he should have known to expect her shortly after. Magus had noticed, he just wasn't paying any attention to Flea. Even if the other magician was trying to make its presence known. Still, he also knows that Flea isn't going to leave unless he says something. So he does. "Is there something that you need?" Magus asks Flea, watching the magician carefully. Lightning seems to strike in the air behind him and his eyes are pooling black like they so often do when he is annoyed. It is almost as if he is controlling all of the elements around him. Whatever the case, it is easy to see he does not want to be bothered.

Flea smiles and offers a fluttering chuckle. "I wanted to offer you my thanks for ridding me of some rather entangling allegiances." Flea tilts her head to the side. "Plus, you and I have some rather unfinished business... you see, I feel as though I owe you something... of course, you might think I have nothing to really offer you, but... perhaps we might be able to work something out." Flea was sporting her new dagger, made up to look beautiful and delicate, Flea never used weapons in her battles, as she seldom had need of a physical weapon. "Is that so?" Magus asks, eyeing carefully the dagger that Flea was carrying. It was true that Flea never cared much for weapons. He's curious about the change. "Does it have to do with that blade you have there? Daggers do not suit me. I have carried a dagger before. It was the worst experience of my life," he says, shaking his head. "So if you are just coming to give that to me as a gift, I can assure you I will never use it. I have something better," he says with a grin. The doom sickle that he is so fond of using in battle instantly appears in his hand. He twirls it around in his hands. Flea walks closer, looking in awe of his weapon. "Hah! Heavens no! This dagger is mine. Granted, a weapon like this probably wont find many uses in my grasp, still it is quite stylish... no, my Dearest Magus... I was thinking more along the lines of creature comforts. Since you have... freed me of my overbearing obligations, I have just the place for you. A place where you may never have want of anything. Of course, nothing would stop you from taking what you desire... I would think you might appreciate a nice secret place to avoid the unpleasantness of life." "Are you offering me a vacation?" Magus asks, chuckling slightly at Flea. "Come now. I hardly need a reward for what I did. Zeal had become a whore for Lavos, and it would only be a matter of time before she tried regaining the power he gave her. I did our world a favor. Let her torment the afterlife with her innane thirst for power. I will not stand for it here." The mage waves his hand again, causing his sickle to disappear into the darkness from where it came.

Flea smiles brightly. "I am offering you a place in secret. Only I and some of my most trusted Lieutenants would know of it, and they would answer only to you and I." Flea seemed to be offering him a genuine gift. "Of course, I know you are quite efficient, but... you always have use for extra servants. Allow me the honor of serving you." She floats closer, bowing graciously, gaining some ground. She was a master of illusion... she had the appearance of calm about her... with the exception of her palms, which began sweating with each closing inch... luckily, her finger-less gloves prevented such nervousness from becoming public knowledge. "It is time for you... to have some peace, if you so desire." The mage eyes Flea carefully. "I was under the impression that I had all ready expressed my disinterest in your military. Besdies, why do I need a place? Are we not all public domain now, being stuck on this island?" Magus shakes his head. He looks down for a moment into his gloved hands. The cold rainy weather was causing his gloves to get slick on the inside. He reaches down to try to adjust them, which he does often. But he seems to be having trouble doing so this time. They keep sliding. "... I need to get thicker gloves," he says aloud.

It only takes a moment before Flea seizes her opportunity. Strange... of all the things that gave her the one shot, it would be his attentiveness to his clothes. Perhaps something Flea might have done and become assassinated in a similar fashion. It was a bitter-sweet irony. Every moment she had ever planned out his death suddenly disappeared in her mind. It was nothing like she had ever imagined. Flea disappeared for a fraction of a moment, the dagger appearing in her hand, she pushed the tip of it against him... the blade would do its work... the poison enchanted in it was a specialty of Flea's but... enchanted by someone else, so as he would not sense it. Everything had been done to ensure Magus would not survive. There would be no chance of him coming back from this if it struck. Flea's final act of loyalty to Zeal. She always took her loyalties seriously, even if she would die for them... it seemed as though an eternity passed in that fraction of a moment when she followed through with her hands... she waited for the fleshy resistance... or the sudden death that would follow if she had failed. "... W... What?" Magus had been trying to fix his gloves. The thought never even occured to him that he could magically make his gloves stick to his hands. He had never done it that way. But now, because he had taken his eyes off of Flea to do that, she struck at him? Like this? "... What do you th-- ... Oh..." The stab of Flea's dagger hits true. Right into the small of the arcane mage's back. True enough is Flea's aim that it hits his spine and thusly, his nervous system, which is all the poision needs. Nerves and blood. The poison starts to spread like wildfire through the systems of the dark mage. Magus falls to a knee and an elbow with his head hung low. The vile serum that flows now through his veins seems to work fast. He is having a hard time breathing all ready. "... What have you done to me? You would betray me, here and now?!" Magus exclaims as he tries to rise up at Flea and swing with a fist, but it is a fruitless effort. He lacks the strength to fully finish the move. He falls unceremoniously into the mud and pooling water, getting dirty and soaked. He is having a hard time breathing, but he still has a scowl on his face. He would have /never/ guessed Flea to do this. Certainly not in the manner in which she attacked. But now, as he lays in the mud, his life starting to fade, he curses himself aloud. "Dagger... it is fate..." he whispers. He struggles to try to make his way to his feet. One hand is busy trying to steady his torso so he can get up, while his other hand is reaching up towards Flea. His eyes are fully black, burning with rage, and they are staring right into the eyes of Flea.

Flea looked at Magus as he fell. She moved to try and catch him but it was too late. All she could do was stare... Flea's eyes could have been made of glass for all the numbness she felt at that moment. She didn't know how to feel at that moment. Her fingers slipped... the dagger hit the floor. The sudden clink from the noise brought emotion back to her... "I was always proud of you... I wanted you to be proud of me too." she says cryptically. "I'll never be the one you wanted... I just... wish things had been different." she slowly kneeled down into the mud with him, uncaring if her clothes became dirty or soiled. "You deserve some peace now... your time here is over. Do not worry too much over your Sister... she will never be harmed by me... I swear it." Flea could feel her throat close up, her eyes welling with small tears as they began to pour unseen from her rain-soaked face. "Rest, my Lord. Receive your reward." She wanted to tell him more... but... what more could she say to him... "I will miss-" she stopped in the middle of her sentence, chocking a little. "I will miss you." she sniffed, swallowing thickly, as if holding back.

Magus wanted to squirm out of Flea's embrace, but found it impossible. Strength was quickly leaving his body. Soon, he would be devoid of it. And his life. "... You. You... were not the one. Suppose... supposed to be the knight... I... This is not the way..." Magus says, trying to reach up to Flea's face so he can pull it down to his level. He wants desperately to look in to the eyes of his assassin, but it is becoming difficult to do so. His eyes are starting to blur. The world around him is darkening even more than it all ready is. The rain only seems to pour harder down upon the two magicians. Magus is so weak that all he can do is lean against Flea for support. "Proud... proud... I am proud... I had..." The words of Magus become harder to say as his breath leaves his body. He is heaving, trying to take deep breaths to gain oxygen but the air simply is not coming to him. Still, he continues his statement. "I had... Had... forgi... forgiven. Moved on. Like you a... asked..." he whispers. His soaking, muddy hair serves as a pillow as his head falls against the shoulder of Flea. "But you bet... You do this... I... do not understand..." he says, slumping now fully against the form of Flea. He has no more strength left to hold himself up.

Flea leaned down to look into his eyes, trying to keep him there longer, as if by sheer force of will. "Dont go yet... not yet!" She deeply regretted now what she had done... "My loyalty to Zeal was absolute, as mine was to you. But... Magus, you were not happy... I hate seeing you suffer... every time. You could never forget... I understand that now..." She was fully in tears now, crying against his head, cradling him for a little longer. "You dont have have to suffer anymore." She hugged him tightly as she felt his strength ebb. "Magus, I love you so much... I don't want you to go... but you could never be happy with me." She sniffled and let out full sobs, hugging him closer. "I'll miss you so... soo much..." her voice cracked... her heart was broken.

"... Never saw it coming," Magus says. His eyes flutter closed as his head is cradled against Flea's shoulder. But he's still alive. Barely. That poison acts far too fast for them to have a decent conversation after the stabbing. But that doesn't stop him. "You... should have told me before. Maybe... we could have worked this out," he whispers quietly. His breaths are gasping now, loud efforts that sound like a what a crushed pipe would sound like, were wind blowing through it. The sound of an old man gasping for air, though Magus is certainly not old. Not that age matters at a time like this. "You... were not supposed to kill me. Not this way... but... it is over now... I am fading. Because of you..." Finding strength... the very last bit that he has, the mage reaches up and grabs for Flea's head. His hand rests against one of the pink mage's cheeks, forcing it to focus upon him. His eyes open up wide one more time. For the first time in ages, they are his true red color. Red with black pupils. Not tainted with the residual magic from the dagger which he once possesed. Though his eyes were darkened and no images were visible, he could see /quite/ clearly. "... Give my sister my regards. And my apologies. As for you... Good... Good... B..." Before he can finish the statement, his eyes start to roll backwards. Another breath is not inhaled or expelled. The hand with which Magus reached falls from Flea's face, lifeless. His body can slump no more. It starts to slide in the mud, still held in Flea's embrace. Magus. The one time prince of Zeal, a kingdom long forgotten; a bloody dictator in a time when human and mystic were at war; a reluctant world hero; a demigod... He had taken his last breath. He lays in the arms of Flea, dead and gone.

Flea gave in to shorter breaths, looking at his eyes, hugging him tighter as she felt him slipping away. Hugging him to her shoulder before she could see him pass on... his hand dropped away from her face "Magus-kun?" she whispers into his ear... There was silence... "M-... Magus?" she sniffled... she didnt want to let go... she didn't want to see him... not as a corpse. She swallowed... letting out a shaky breath. Letting out a small squeak, she pulled away, looking at him... he was gone. Pressing her face into his chest, she let out a horrid wrenching sob, rocking back and forth in the mud with his body. There could be no more words... she would never see his face full of life ever again. She would never see his small little half-amused smiles or angry annoyed looks. The person she loved so dearly was gone forever

You are not allowed to post comments.

Personal tools