The Vanishing Light Introduction

“I’m so glad you could come on such late notice.” Pioette lightly touches her nose to yours, in a mutually respectful greeting, though her face was worried. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now, but the scouts we sent to Raydes came back with news that it was Withered again. They said it’s still not as bad as it was before, but it’s still the worst rot in Faia. The Archmages agreed to go with us now to see to it. Have you met them?”

You hesitate, perhaps embarrassed to not have—but, you had seen them from a distance, at Academy speeches.

“Don’t worry—you’ll meet them now.” Pioette beckons you towards the wooden doors at the end of the hallway, and you follow her into the meeting room.

Around the table are the Archmages: Fern, Ezra, Ephime, and Alastor. Fern seems pleasant, even in the dawning fear; Ephime juxtaposes her with a stern, almost regal demeanor. Ezra’s expression is grave, yet his demeanor is one of understanding. Alastor’s stare is intense, dark, and haunting, and you instantly find yourself staring at your paws.

“We’ve heard much about your spell on Raydes,” Fern praises. Ezra dips his head in acknowledgement, and you relax, feeling most at peace when you watch him. The others seem tense; Ezra is steady and confident. “Most impressive you could handle that.”

You dip your head respectfully in return.

“Alastor and I would like to see Raydes for ourselves. With you, Pioette, as you go,” Ezra muses. “I would like to hear your thoughts.”

You glance over to Alastor again, and flinch at his stare.

“Don’t you think a Tortuvina ride and a bit of magic would be more efficient than an airship for this quick trip?” He turns to you. “Have you ever ridden a Tortuvina, young one?”

You shake your head, and Ezra chuckles. “You’re in for a treat. Come, you four.”

You walk with the group to the bank of the campus river. A Tortuvina with dark mist and glittery purple skin is resting there, shaded by the great oaks, and Ezra bounds to them. “Zaelaria!”

“Ezra,” they reply, voice deep and warm. “What brings you here?”

“We’re looking for a ride.” Then, quietly, “To Raydes.”

Zaelaria cocks their head. “I see. Anaylizing the infection?”

“It goes deeper than we thought,” Ezra confirms. Zaelaria considers, and then invites you to climb onto their back.

Pioette, Ezra, Alastor, and yourself all nestle within Zaelaria’s mist, and you cling very tightly to their jewelry, unsure. “You won’t fall,” Pioette promises. “Don’t worry.”

Ezra was right—even if it was a thousand percent more terrifying, it was certainly faster than an airship. You arrive at Raydes in only two hours, although you had been quite sure you would fall and be lost in the ocean.

As Zaelaria settled into the water, they let out a sigh—one of genuine, deep sadness. As you clamber out of his mist into the sand, you see the damage once more.

Raydes is dark. 

There are barely any trees left, as many of them were so rotten they had disintegrated from your spell months ago—but the growth that had popped up was Withered once more. The sand had even turned purple once again.

Alastor says nothing, and instead steps into the cursed sand. You watched, warily, as he scoops some of it into a bottle.

“Wow,” Pioette breathed. The sound of her voice is one of the only sounds on the island.

“I imagine we will need a spell, of course. A very big spell.” Zaelaria flings water a bit in agitation. “But you don’t have to be a mage to determine that.”

“Is there a way to determine what is actually happening?” Pioette curls up, halfway in the water, seemingly as deterred by the sand as you are. “We can restore the island with magic all we want, but if we aren’t killing it at the root, we won’t ever be able to fix this.”

“Alastor?” The Faian does not reply to Ezra’s call, yet he still hums thoughtfully. “Seems so. I imagine Alastor will be able to perform something for that. We can at least perform another Light spell to keep the Wither at bay, so we can investigate. With Raydes’ past, it’s too dangerous to search the island without doing so.”

Pioette nods. “I wouldn’t send any of my Guild members here alone, Light or not.”

“Would members of your Guild be willing to assist again, with a spell?” Ezra muses. “Alastor’s spells can be quite taxing. I imagine we will need a great deal of raw power for it. And, not just Light, which was your approach last time. We'd better set up a base on a neighboring island too, somewhere close like Wingwatch."

“I imagine they will be willing; we were all quite disappointed to know that we could no longer explore the land. Though… are you sure they will have a spell?” Pioette looks over towards Alastor, who has walked onto the island quite a bit now, staring into the hazy, dark mist that had started to reform in the center of it. 

“I’m sure of it. I can tell that he sees a lot of potential here.” He sighs. “What has happened to Raydes is grave. And it’s worrying—if this corruption ever moves past, and into our world… I’d hate to think of what that would bring.”

“Okay, so… prepare big Light spell on Wingwatch, plus big Alastor spell for a root discovery… then, we’ll know how to save Raydes,” Pioette confirms, and Ezra nods.

“More or less.”

“Perfect. Let’s assemble our Guild, once again.”