The Chrysalis Theorem

General Summary

Having a chance to finally breath in a movement of calm after an eventful past day and half she notices the sense of cold and loss of the tattoo she grew accustomed to on her back. Shifting she is reminded of the loss of the availability and access to the skills the scroll afforded to her. With a breath her mind begins to work, this a problem nothing nothing more a challenging one for sure but nothing she cant figure out given time. But is time something they have, it would have to be. Another breath. But what will it gain her the anchor of magic the anchor of her ability to create - no she was doing that long before it was just ...helpful. Another breath. Her friends relied on her, but she was just regaining control she was just finding a ... connection. Another breath. Her eyes close and when she opens them she is back in her office. The smell of coffee both fresh and dried in the copious mugs sit around her. Papers and ideas sit spread around her titled with all of the different thoughts, ideas and nagging feelings in her head. Looking down the one right at the fore front of her thoughts is "Transmutation - is there a way back?". Another breath and she begins to work.
How does Myra start and direct her genius?
She breathes and the desk clears aside from the paper, she'll come back to the other thoughts later. A new mug is beside her, steaming. She pulls out a pencil and begins writing. To an onlooker it would seem almost random, pages fill with different headings and bullets underneath. It's almost no time before the desk is covered again, several times she goes to the shelf behind her pulling off books, some quickly replaced while others join the piles on her desk in a system only she could possibly comprehend. One pile seems concentrated on the composition of matter and the impact of magic on them. A book lies open on the top of the pile noting the materials that receive magic more readily. Another pile seems to be notes on the origin of the scrolls and their capabilities while it's neighboring pile muses about how Viridus might have found the transmutation scroll in the first place. The stack that she currently works on focuses on a series of dreams a small journal seems to be open cross referencing them with another log in a more beaten notebook. The coffee seems to have diminished though someone watching her would be forgiven for thinking she did not drink any of it.
As she finishes the notes on the dream she shifts to a paper titled 'physical manifestation and changes' already several pages deep with subheadings like 'draconic manifestation', 'Chlorophyta integration', 'Rhytidome incorporation'. She sighs and pulls a partially completed page from the back of the pile and stands, stretching. She moves towards one of the doors but instead of leading to her childhood bedroom it leads to a smaller bedroom, still full of books, but cozier than the one at the estate. She goes to a corner of the room and frowns as she pulls off a cloth revealing the mirror behind it. "We're working on something," she comments to the reflection, "so please none of your usual. I just need to see our back."
The figure in the mirror looks back for a moment and with a cocky grin flicks the eye brows up and turns around "Oh a bit bold today are we, another great puzzle for the great Myra Stagwood to solve". Myra is shown her back devoid of any real marking although the emptiness does bring a momentary pang of sorrow - but there is this ever so faint pattern just under the shoulder blade that she can see
Myra frowns, ignoring the words of her reflection, "Etch is going to be upset that I managed to ruin his artwork, though I suppose mom will be happy. Hmm," She leans in closer examining under the shoulder blade in a way that would be completely impossible were she not in her own mind.
The vision bends as Myra as she impossibly looks and zooms in on the edge of her back. In there is a speck of pinkish light shinning through. In an odd mirror form the reflection as if they are looking over and inspecting an engine. The mirror form looks up to Myra "Well that's new got a little hole .... not sure that has been there before"
"I would hope I would be aware of most injuries," She comments as reaches her hand behind her back to touch the location feeling for the hole. "Perhaps it's a holdover from the whole turning to stone thing? That was new for me."
As Myra reaches for the hole in her back begins to open and crack shattering with more light until it shatters like a mirror and both forms and pulled into a tumbling void of darkness crystalline webs expanded out like neurons in the space. In the center of this web there is a suspended glowing pink ovoid spheroid pulsing with light. Their feet land on a think layer of displaced darkness stars below their feet as they take a moment to observe each other and the soundings.
"Great couldn't end up here alone, I had to end up here with myself." She looks around beholding the space, pointing at the egg in front of them, "Well that could be the worst phase spider egg ever or... what? The heart of transmutation?" She pivots without moving looking for other webs or eggs that may be visible before taking a hesitant step forward toward the light, making sure to touch the web.
“How would I know what it is when you don’t even know…..you don’t think it is a spider though right? ”You follow yourself forward towards the center towards the shape in the center
"Hmm?" Myra seems lost in concentration, seeing nothing else around, she moves closer towards the center. "No, phase spider wouldn't be in our mind... Well not the ones I've read about." As she gets closer to the center she reaches out and touches the glass like webbing gently.
As if hitting the stings of a harp vibrations emanate out of the point of contact in all different colors. The colors bounce and refract off of the bends and paths of the class like rods that form the web. The center glows and stirs
"It's beautiful," Myra smiles. She continues towards the center letting her hand trail along the webbing
Colors of light and giant sounds casa de and shower Myra and herself in light as they approach the center. Arriving at the structure the light intensity has not increased it is soft and inviting as the form of this shape that stands before them shifts like a twitch as they approach ”So what could this actually be and was is it in our back?” The reflection touches the surface and flattens her palm along the surface nodding her head
"Oh any number of things. I could have messed up rejecting organic material in our forms. It could be some aspect of Mystra who created them. I spoke to an aspect of the scroll once, could be that. The structure," she touches the web again sending out more colors " could be a crystalized representation of the schools of magic that hit us when we tried to redirect the flow of magic during the ceremony and that," pointing to the egg, "could be my aspect of transmutation that has been locked away. Could be a dragon." "I give it a 50/50 of wanting to harm us." She pauses, "Eh we are in our mind 75/25 in our favor."
“Could it be all of that?” The reflection says lifting her hand and looking herself in the eye*
"It's our mind," she looks around, "well maybe it's our mind. I mean look worst case it's unbound transmutation magic that wants to kill us or something right?" she takes a step closer the the center and places her hand on the egg, "So why not find out?"
"No time like the present "The Reflection pushes Myra into the object and there is that brief moment and surprise as Myra crosses the threshold. That moment of fear, confusion but not surprise from herself as she is often one to throw herself into her work. As Myra is enveloped in the warmth and the light that surrounds her, she looks back at the reflection pacing on the outside.
Myra finds herself reflexively gasps as she stumbles into the light only barely getting her bearings before she falls.
The sensation of falling quickly subsides as she is left floating at eye level of the reflection, the reflection paces outside and pauses. "Have you learned anything yet? Found out what is inside?"
"Yes the meaning of life was right here next to your dignity the whole time," Myra calls. She turns around so her reflection is behind her and attempts to move forward.
As she turns the reflection remains and as she attempts to move Myra floats in place slowly rotating. The reflection stairs back at Myra keeping pace "What part of life as all the different stages have meaning?" As Myra drifts slowly a section of the crystalline web breaks the line of sight and in the instant it is gone the reflection changes to that of Myra as the innocent and doting daughter "Is this what I had in mind all those years with my head buried in a book? What would she think of the story you have made thus far?"
"She'd probably be appalled by all the lovely shades of grey there are in the world. Oh sure sometimes you get a clear cut villain but more often you're left with people making choices and mistakes. And sometimes those people are you. I don't know me, are you disappointed at all the people we've failed to save? Are you optimistic of the ones we have? How many people do you think will write us as the hero or the villains at the end of this tale? Do you think any of us will make it to a happily ever after?"
"Besides you were more worried about not being there. Didn't really matter where the book took you if it was away right?"
The reflection’s face is quizzical in the way Myra now knows was just how she used to make her father smile “Did we ever really believe that all the stories were like the ones we read? Through my eyes you are the hero, the rest of the world, with a smile as always will need to catch up”
Myra shrugs, "What are our beliefs if not a series of stories? And what is disappointment but us being upset that the stories weren't quite as we pictured them? I'll try to be worthy of your confidence."
"Beliefs are what got us here in the first place. Well maybe not just our, we have been different parts in other stories...Myra continues to rotate slowly inside the object as another crystalline strand passes between her and the reflection. The reflection shifts - the adolescent form of Myra fades and the gnarled corrupted form of Virdius keeps pace before her "You played an integral part in mine..."
Myra crosses her arms as she floats, "Yes and you won't seem to leave me alone because of it. You were afforded every chance. I may have many regrets but you were not one of them."
"So you only see me as a Villain, when I was the one who set you free" The form of Viridus shifts to that of his original eleven form. A simple but beautiful man devoid of corruption, ill will or hate, just a patient look upon his face. "I showed you that there could be changes made in this world through the use of this power, what have you done with it?"
Myra eyebrows raise, "Oh you showed me that? How could I forget. Silly me, yes thank you ever so much." Myra frowns, "No Viridus. You showed me power corrupts absolutely. The only thing I see when I look at you are all the things I hope to never be."
The energy around Myra pulses in the container and a beams of light begin to pulse out to all the translucent branches forming the structure within the chamber as if the space itself responds in the affirmative
"Strive to be better...Viridus smiles as the form sheds and molts away revealing the elegant spring floral ball gown Myra wore during the Stagwood Gala. The more reserved reflection of Myra now elegantly strides in pace outside the structure "Being better is something that was always something that was expected of us, but whos expectations are we measuring ourselves to?"
Myra's arms remain crossed but a single eyebrow goes up, "I don't think there's any confusion on that point. I mean not in here," she gestures around. "I mean I don't think mother or father would have asked you to bifurcate your personality or lock away parts of yourself. They'd probably appreciate it if we actually told them our thoughts. It would certainly be faster. But that's not good enough is it? If we just had to meet their expectations maybe we would stand a chance."
"Stand a chance? There is nothing that we are fighting in here that we didn't bring in ourselves. Would it be so bad to just have an honest conversation with either of our parents, or with any of our friends for that matter?"
"Would it be so bad for them to look at you the way they looked at Ky right after he left? Would it be so bad if you messed up and your friends left and you were alone again. At least if we do it to ourselves it's by our choice right?" She laughs sadly, "Sure they'd probably forgive you the first time or two. But how many times do we need to mess up before we prove to them that we shouldn't be here. That we were just playing pretend and have no idea what we are doing. "
"But I am proof" As the slow rotation continues one of the class strands obscures the vision of the ball gown reflection to that of a split face of the charming woman and that of a white-scaled beast. The rotation stops and Myra is left staring at herself "They have already seen are most broken faces, and they are still around us, still with us, still trusting us" The reflection raises the hand and claw to the reflections of memories of almost infinite quantity display along the strands. While from her own perspective many a smile, eye roll, or quizzical facial contortion can be felt in each instance. While the emotions and the times in each depiction is different, ALL are filled with those closest to Myra. In all moments of pride, failure and inspiration she looks out through her own eyes that she is not alone "You see life is unlike all of the stories we hid away in, we don't know what is next but, we seemed to find a collection of people who enjoy sharing it with us all the same, even at our worst" The images form into a single scene of a bedroom and ice forming on the walls the Wardens looking back in fear and concern "But yet as we turn the page" The ice melts to see the group around her now relaxing and smiling over a small fire deep within forgotten halls of faith and the founding of the known world. "The Story continues."
The camera pans so the Myra in the pink light is visible, younger now maybe six or seven, clutching a stuffed animal to her chest. She looks to be in the same outfit she was sent to her room in after having failed to perform to her parents expectations at the party so many years ago.
She looks out at the version of herself, "But what if I let them all down?"
The reflection extends a hand into the protective container holding Myra inside. As the hand pierces the outer shell ripples cascade out from the center point. The ripples shift the reflections once more to show that of Myra Stagwood, no alterations, no oddity of her form, covered in dust and rubble from her current adventure, just true Myra as the world see's her - a hero. Hand Outstretched reaching down towards herself "That is a challenging question..." the reflection smiles kindly looking in "but when has that ever stopped us before."
Myra smiles and grabs the hand, "let's be honest, probably fewer times than it should have."
As Myra is pulled through the chrysalis the chamber erupts in bright pink light. The empty class structures that spread out in the dark like a web-like pattern now illuminate and flash like data lines showing life and the flow of creation and change giving the full chamber life. Myra's feet hit the ground hand still out stretched but the form that guided her through no longer present in the now bright and alive chamber. She walks out and around the structure seeing the beauty and the geometry of the arcane lattice around her. It is around one of the countless pillars she crosses that there is a figure hunched over a desk working, scribing something table littered with clay cups and books.
Myra knocks on the pillar as though it were a door, "Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt but I seem to be lost."
The figure continues with a little bit of a laugh, but responds softly in the voice of cigar connoisseur "Aren't we all "
Myra smiles, "Ah well perhaps that was poor word choice on my part as I suppose lost has some implication of finding, when what I desire is to better understand where we are?"
The figure stops, hands go down to the desk and back postures over in a almost quizzical pose. The figure straightens his back showing his true height which is taller than most and turns around. The kind spectacled face of a man with a kind quizzical smile turns to look at Myra, "Ah well I can never tell if it is my own thoughts getting creative or if there is someone new here wishing to speak to me, but you... you are quite clever"
"That's very kind but I did arrive here by a combination of fighting with my reflection in my mind and by nearly dying when I accidentally channeled more of the weave than expected. So clever might not be the first word that comes to mind... Do you get lonely in here?"
"Perhaps courageous and curious then - as the last time I followed a vision of myself I ended up being hunted by a pack of displacer beasts. Such times in the Fey. But you mentioned the Weave are you some sort of textile worker or enchanter?"
"Cloth is not my first trade, though I find it fascinating. It can be very delicate, which is not always my forte. But I meant the arcane lattice," gesturing around her questioningly. "Are you working on something new?"
"Ah why didn't you say so, although looks up at the intricacy of the structure and smiles I guess if one tilted their head and everything aligned it might have a more woven pattern. Well in terms of the world and the planes around us it is just as old as them but to us to those who are curious and courageous enough it is very very new. Tell me if you were given a tool that could create possibility, what would you use it for?"
Myra looks up, "How do you see it?" She pauses studying the ceiling, "In the plane... version of a plane? Instance? Where I'm from there's an imbalance in the draw of the different schools... topics? There is abuse of gifts given. I apologize I'm struggling with words today. People are being hurt. I would like to help. Oh also there's something hunting us from Mechanus and I would very much like to ensure it doesn't murder my friends."
There's a shift in the demeanor as Myra mentions Mechanus as his more jovial features fade and Myra better understands the power the first Mage commanded. "I had hoped that with my departure as well as the others that they would have relented by now. It's good to know that there are still some giving it the good fight. Clever and courageous . Very good."
"I mean, some of your students are still around..."
"That is good, are they in these schools that you have mentioned?"
"Ah... maybe? One of them has removed their name from even the fate author's books. Which makes it incredibly difficult to know ... well anything."
"Hmm they were always a little dramatic. But, if these schools - there are many of them around? Practitioners draw from these different schools so they're taught, my pages are taught in these schools?"
"Yes - the eight."
"That is good," he smiles.
"But," Myra pauses.
"But?" His eyes go wide.
"Some of your works have been... used to a degree that they are throwing off the balance of other schools."
"Like a rivalry between these academies?"
"Well... One of your pages is currently in the hands of a young girl who is animating constructs of her storybooks and tormenting the village around her."
"Well she must have quite a collection of those ferocious beasts," he smiles, "and the village must be have good fun."
Myra frowns, "There's another one of your students who is using Illusion to make himself appear a god."
"Hmm that was always a possibility. Unfortunate."
Myra switches tack finding little purchase, "How did you distribute your works? It is said, in the tomes of the fate author that they were taken with you when you 'retired'."
"Yes, I um," he pauses, studying Myra. He takes her chin in his hand moving her head from side to side, looking in her eyes. "Ah it's the eyes, I knew there was something there."
"Yes I have been told I have my mother's eyes."
"I do not know of your mother and I'm sure I do not know of many before her. But, one of my more... impassioned students, allowed me access to a world beyond. Are you familiar with the planes? Because it is fascinating," He returns to the table behind him, gesturing to papers and books which appear blank to Myra.
"I apologize I don't seem to be able too...see? comprehend? I do not fully understand where we are? Perhaps I am not with you as much as I appear to be here with you."
"I did find it quite peculiar that you made it all the way up to my study without encountering my other countermeasures. That means, while it is not surprising for a great-many times-grand-daughter of one of my more trustworthy pupils." He begins to at Myra and her location more carefully, "I would offer you a seat but I don't believe you would believe me if I told them where you were. Is that correct?"
Myra glances around the dark inky black space, "I would tell you there are none in my current vicinity that I can see."
"Precisely, interesting..."
"May I inquire where your study is? Not to- I don't need exact coordinates but I would be incredibly interest to know what plane I'm in to start."
A condescending smile creeps over his face as he rushes to his desk and grabs a book. Myra moves to where he's waved her over. He takes the book, spine pointed towards himself, and opens it. as he does the white tips of the pages begin to shift and bend, in the bends Myra see's the shape of a large tower. He points to about three-quarters of the way up, "Well depending on the time of day we might be around here. Or if it's closer to dinner we might be somewhere within there," Pointing lower on the page.
Ignoring his grandstanding Myra looks closely at the tower, committing as much to memory as possible before she recognizes its form from a memory from a long dead boy on a dark and stormy night (See Cursed Compass). She shivers. "Interesting... So are you still in the Beholden Crossing or did you move it from the plane?"
The mage's smile grows, "Veskor would be quite impressed. I do not know as I left that world and all of it's beauty and strife, what I imagine for you is a long time ago. There are times where it can be found, where I have had to shoo away a beggar or two, or thwart an attempt to gain access once or twice. But, I can't say for sure. I can't even really say, and that is an achievement, how it is you and I are talking right now."
"I don't know that I can provide any more insight there than you can, unfortunately," Myra looks slightly embarrassed. "Did you intend for the pages to be used without your book?"
"I had always hoped they would be used together," he admits, "but they are just tools. It is up to the builders, those who seek the knowledge of those pages to utilize their gifts."
"And if the people utilizing the scrolls look to enslave others and empower themselves. That's just what it is?"
"Not always, I think," as he looks more carefully at Myra. "You had some success didn't you?"
Myra laughs, "I don't know if my resounding failure at the end would result in me calling what I did a success. Have any of your pages fully rejected someone or am I the first?"
"Hmmm rejection... Now, what... hold on don't tell me." He waves his hand as though wafting a smell from her. A pink light appears shining through her back until a set of spectral butterfly wings manifest. "Ah well, that one always was tricky. But change often is. Change, interesting..." He seems pulled aside by his thoughts, returning to his desk to write down notes. Myra cannot see the words but it's clear from his motions that they are notes about Transmutation. But with the speed and other symbols he uses, combined with an inability to see the finished result, quickly loses Myra.
"I apologize if I'm supposed to be following along, I still cannot actually see what you are writing..."
"That's quite alright, as you are not - rarely is someone able to keep up with me. But I imagine that is something - not a foreign concept to someone as curious and courageous as you."
"Did you have a theory about the rejection? Or..."
"Based on what you have shared and what I have," he motions to the energy wisping off the wings still visible behind Myra, "gleaned is that in a moment you were pulling when the pages - the page wanted you to shift and move. You were too forceful in your approach and - A rock cannot control the flow of a stream by itself. But while it may try and fight against the current it must eventually accept and become a part of it. Only in that part will it control the current downstream. Is that simple enough for your understanding?"
"Does it matter that there were multiple pages active at the moment?"
He waves it away with his quill like Myra isn't understanding, "That has no bearing they are all meant to work in unison with each other. That is what the teachings say that through the combination of these attitudes of nature, possibility can emerge. If the scrolls were used in opposition to each other, effectively damming it upstream it would require you to pull more on whatever energy you were seeking to shift. But if you used it to contain the energy, formed it around the stream allowing you to direct the flow such that you could steer the current you might have had an easier job."
"I did think that at the time too..."
"There is theory but there is also practice."
"In practice, when I did not go with the stream, to follow your metaphor - why would that have caused the scroll to reject me? The page if you would prefer..."
"It would have rejected you because you were not ready to go further. Why be a part of a story or teaching if that which is trying to learn has limitations already placed within their mind?"
As Myra attempts to concentrate she notices the table and some of the books seem to begin to fade. "I feel our time is drawing short." Myra pivots, "May I ask, what made you return your works to the world after you worked so hard to take them with you?"
"Oh I just took them with me because I wasn't done studying. It was always the intent of my benefactor to give them such that civilization could grow and defended against those who would come from afar to impose their will."
"Those who are here are using them to their own will, that's fine?"
"A sword or an axe can be used to prepare logs for a fire to keep warm, to build a house, or they can be used to cut down their neighbor."
"Yes, but a fireball is only going to kill people."
"Yes but it could also be used to - I theorized about this - it could be turned into some sort of - it was placed in a containment area and the flow was redirected it could be used to drive some sort of construct or forge -"
"Yes, yes, we made the ship fly with it I get it-"
"FASCINATING!" He returns to his table making copious notes.
Myra sighs, "Did you bring the book to my family's estate?"
"It was there... but before I left I had entrusted it to Vescor."
Myra pauses, "Ah. That's helpful thank you. So you know why the scroll rejecting me would also have messed with my natural ability to conduct transmutative magic?"
"If you pull all the air out of a room, no fire can grow until a window or door is opened."
The table is gone and the figure before Myra no longer has feet as Myra feels the vision begin to fade, "I fear our time is drawing to an end."
"I hope not. But maybe for this instance our conversation is concluded for now. It is very nice to know that you are asking questions. He would be very proud."
"Ah thank you."
"Myra was it?"
Myra blinks in recognition that she never said her name, "Yes that's correct."
"I look forward to our next conversation."
"Alzrinoth it was... it was interesting."
"It always should be."
"We can agree to disagree," Myra smiles. As Myra fades she see's Alzrinoth the Creative greet another individual entering his room.

Report Date

26 Jan 2023