New Beginnings.

[Pickles]

-Ting, ting, ting.- Rattled through the night, the light jingle jangle of an overly colorful, omnipresent, Jester hat announced the movement's of Cove's brightest and happiest Arcanist. A cool wind rustled through the trees, on an already dank, rainy night, it wasn't a pleasant addition. A shiver of the spine, minuscule hairs standing on end on the back of the woman's neck. Something was telling her to turn. Turn left? Why would she turn left? She wasn't heading toward Altmere. There was nothing left on the coast but the old Arcanist tower.

But she did as her gut demanded, she turned left, following her way up the coast line until she saw the sad 'structure' of the long abandoned Arcanist Tower. It was a sad sight, almost unbearable. The foundation crumbling, wood rotting, vines creeping over every surface. Termites having a feast upon the floor boards. Mother nature was reclaiming it's land, day by day, the legacy of Covian Magic, and untold knowledge rotting into mulch.

The Shadow clad woman marched forward, Mud brown boots splashing into murky puddles. A hesitant step upwards, climbing the step up toward the front door of what she once called home. -Creeeeaaaakkk!- The straining timbers barely holding the weight of the lithe woman. A shaky hand took hold of the handle at the front door. -Tug, Tug, Yank!- The off kilter door, half wedged in it's frame finally broke free. The final, rusty nail holding hinges to rotten wood breaking free. The weight of the door nearly dragging the little woman off her feet. "Bugger me!" came the angered squeal of the green haired lady.

Stepping inside was no better than then inspection from the exterior. The fetid smell of mold, and rotting wood ravishes her senses, nearly bringing the woman to a coughing fit. Tying a bandanna around her nose and mouth she ventured forth. Coming to her old desk, she paused a moment. Was it truly hers anymore? Was it Bersi's Was it Ilyana's? A heavy sigh rumbled through her chest as she circled around the dusty desk, settling into a waterlogged chair. It too groaned under her meager weight. The dampness seeping into her kilt.

Her brow furrowed as she propped her elbow against the desk, using it as a stand for her chin. "I thought Abigail saved this place.. vanished it, using the Blackrock." She clucked her tongue lightly and gave a little shake of her head. "It would take three, at least, for that spell to have a permanence. It probably dissipated after a few years..." The ex-officer commented to herself.

A tome lay in front of her, water logged and rotten. A shaky hand reaching out and slowly opening it. The first half of the tome's pages fused together in a pulpy mess. It opened to the center, a page reading: Arcanist Roster. That same shaky hand reaches up and pulled her omnipresent jester hat off. -Ting, gling, ting!- It rattled, as she used it to scrub her face before tossing it across the acrid room.  The following page read:

Ilyana - Deceased.
Bersi - Missing in action, presumed dead.
Celuvian Haap - Missing in action, presumed dead.
Kas Valentine - Missing in action, presumed dead.
Jack Sinist - Missing in action, presumed dead.
Mercy - Active.
Abigail Keres - Active.
Thomas Aylamer - Active.

New water stains began to appear on the page below her. It wasn't the missing shingles blown off from the hurricane, it was from her. Teardrop raining down on the all ready water soaked page. "I failed them, I abandoned them!' The woman exclaimed to no one. A fierce swipe of the hand sent tomes, scrolls, and herbs flying. Her head crashed down to the stone table, her shoulder slumping. A quiet sob rang out for a mere moment. She lifted her head, snatched her Jester hat up and bellowed to the wilds "Never again!"