The Ritual

The last rituals.

There's a big reason as to why he brought Cho here. Despite the ritual circle being prepared, and extensive runework being placed upon the pedestal that would hold the phylactery, as well as transceiver and other amounts of excessive detail, there's still a chance for it all to fail, no matter how much of an expert Arthur was. For that, Cho is here to support the ritual through and through.

"I believe everything is ready for the ritual, Cho."

"How is this going to go, exactly? I would assume I must stand in the circle, and tap into the runework, then proceed to slowly transfer my soul to the phylactery - the ritual we've set up should serve as safe-netting of sort."

"Or am I missing something?"

It sounded all easy in practice, but... in reality, such procedure was even giving him the slightest of shakes. What if it does go wrong, after all? What if it fails, and the work of his life would be for naught?

He only hopes that it won't happen.
(Arthur Rowan)


 You can never be overprepared for something such as this. And considering that she has allowed the runes to fester power and gain strength over time, she believes that the 'safety' netting to catch his soul would be more than enough to redirect it should things become awry. Ultimately though, these happenings mainly consist of how he could possibly do these things...After all, her own experience in transferring souls is much more different than what one would've originally imagined. But to digress...She would simply wave nothing more than a mere hand.

 "Create another ritual circle that is around what you plan on putting your soul into. Follow it through with Mannaz, Dagaz, and the Raidho to set the final destination and end the journey." She adds, folding her hands behind her back. "In essence...It'll be akin to, mhh, ripping yourself apart. Essentially, you will be dying here in one way or another. However, I'm certainthat you already know that." A brief, singular nod is given as she stands aside.

 "Remember to steel yourself against everything that might happen. I'll be here to support you.." But she will not be assisting him through and through with the ritual. After all, there is merit in reaching ascension on one's own. And she is simply here to make certain that he doesn't die in the process. And perhaps, give him a few tips on how to bend the soul to his own whim..

 Even if it's the one that's currently in his body.

 "I would've preferred for a little more luminite, however, considering the fact that your runes are so well done...It's not even necessary. We're free to continue."
(Cho Grauhimmel)

Ah. These runes.

A single nod is given to Cho, and he turns himself to the platform that he prepared so far- a pedestal, about few inches tall, containing the Spire Shard sitting atop of it. It seems to be surrounded by the circle of runes, both beneath the pedestal and right upon it - the ones beneath it are to empower the ritual and grant the excessive power, a one-time use, whereas the ones on pedestal itself were the permanent runes, made to achieve what Rowan was aspiring toward.

But that's not it. The six energy rods surrounded it all, just as tall as pedestal itself - it would seem that this phylactery was made specifically in a way that allows it to be easily transported, assuming that the need arises for such. Considering the material used upon all involved parts, that being Arcanium and empowered Soulsteel, there's no doubt that highest quality effect would be achieved.

"I was planning to also use Angel's feathers for this ritual. They're meant to have their power locked within the runes, and constantly supply me with excess of energy when my soul is in phylactery... and channel it through the transceiver."

Nonetheless, the runework begins. The all too familiar runes are drawn around the Spire Shard, all to direct the journey of his soul that's about to happen. Even if he's about to die, he doesn't seem to fret, a single voice lingering in his mind - 'This is necessary. We will help.' Of course, they are watching... closely.

'Mannaz - Represents Man - Purpose is 'The Support'
'Dagaz - Represents Dawn - Purpose is 'The Breakthrough'
'Raidho/Nauthiz - The Journey and 'necessity' for each.'

He remembered them all. In no way he would ever allow himself to forget even the slightest detail of this runework. Still, an Angel feather is carefully placed next to the Spire Shard - the runes that were meant to 'attach' its power begin to glow, almost as if trying to drag and 'soak' it within.

"I think I'm ready."
(Arthur Rowan)

He is the shepherd of our souls, forever bound by death. And since he is no longer the angel of light, he now represents the angel of death. She remembers these fallacies within her own argument, moments when she had attempted to make it seem as if he was still all powerful. Moments, when she had attempted to make it seem as if he could possibly shed his well, his blessings onto this land. And yet...Even she understands something rather blaring. What power does an angel have when their wings are stripped bare? What power does Azrael have when he is forced to guide them from one directive to the other? There is...Something sickening occurring within her being. Something defiant, even as he works..

 "I've heard that you've possessed the angel feathers. In that case, then you'll need to infuse it's essence within the phylactery prior to finishing the ritual." She says softly, nodding briefly. "Of course, the feather will disappear...But the portion of the angel's soul will forever remain in the item that you place it in. It just requires...Careful extraction." She adds, nodding softly. "Unless you plan on doing this all the while placing yourself into the phylactery then...I suppose that it'll give you more than just 'excess'." Either way, she imagines that this will make him nearly...Something that she hasn't seen before.

 Another one of her people reaching nigh-perfection. Another one of her people touching their dreams. This is interesting.

 Either way, the woman would've found herself beginning to stand aside...Carefully drifting away from the conglomeration of divine artifacts and more. "Either way, whenever you are ready...Activate the runes by using your blood. And then..." She says softly. "Prepare to be lifted."
(Cho Grauhimmel)

So much preparation, and yet there's always more. He thinks about everything ahead, and while Cho mentions that the Angel feather would need to be soaked by the phylactery, he offers naught but a simple smile to that. His hand stretches, pointing a single finger towards runes both beneath the pedestal and right all over it.

"I know. That's why I prepared these runes. The moment they get activated, they will begin ingesting the Angel feather and soaking its power. My phylactery will contain it at all times."

Even now, in dormant state, it would seem that the Angel feather is being softly... 'dragged' towards Spire Shard, one that's intended to be a phylactery, attempting to fuse it together. Of course, Arthur wouldn't go into ritual like this without preparations as thorough as what he's done, but... he had years to do it, and such shows in amount of work he already performed.

An attachment of the transceiver, first. It's a bracelet, made out of Arcanium and empowered Soulsteel- a keen eye could note the almost invisible, ethereal link that stretches between phylactery and the bracelet. Clearly, they're bound by runes, and such is attached to Arthur's forearm.

"Before I go..."

"Thank you, Cho. If it wasn't for your guidance, I may not have made it so far. I appreciate it."

But before she's had much of a chance to speak in return, there's a slash of his hand, and the blood, the lifeforce of the Rowan, it all drips down onto the runes. In union, they glow and hum, and the Angel feather slowly sinks into phylactery in the most mystical of ways- it would seem that its very pattern is vanishing from reality, and instead, the mystical energy remains within the supposed Phylactery.

Something stirs. The Rowan wavers, but the ritual continues...
(Arthur Rowan)

"There is no reason to thank me, although, it is appreciated." In some cases, she feels as if she is one of the people that assists others within their goals. She feels as if she serves as a guide for those that are looking to lose themselves to the passions and whims of their magic. And she hopes that people have taken many things out of the tips and speculations that she possesses. After all, the school wasn't just about establishing Dawn as another territory. It was about early exposure...It was about showing the children that no matter how good something can be, the differences between each nation will always be that much more sickening. And because of that...

 The woman would remain silent...Her hands beginning to raise briefly, as if drifting carefully towards the ceiling of the room. "In times such as this...No matter how powerless Azrael may seem, we derive our magics and our ability to defy the stars from him. In timessuch as these, it is best that you call to his name as your soul is lifted. For even as the angel of death...I'd like to think that he's still capable of having more pull than what anyone might ever think." She adds, watching the angel feather steadily beginning to sink....The impossible, corrupted power of the Kitsune coming into play.

 The three elements would drift into the realm, circulating around her frame...Pulling from the lifeblood of the realm to assist him with directing his soul from one place to the other. "Call for him in this time of need and I can guarantee you...That he will not fail." She understands that many other people within Valmasia are not devout worshippers of their angel but...

 She believes in him.
 And she knows that he is there, watching, waiting.


(Cho Grauhimmel)

Each passing moment felt like a small death, with the soul seeking its way out of the body of the Rowan. The runes were growing in power, glowing more, bigger, potent- up until the whole room was almost a blinding radiance of the powerful runework, channelled upon the divinity of Spire Shard, and even further empowered by the Angel feather. Only the most potent materials were used, Arcanium and Soulsteel, all to make sure that this process goes smooth, but...

The pain. Oh, the pain. The feeling that you're falling apart, that something from within is being ripped out while you're staying awake. His eyes widened, and despite the inner fears of dying, something came with acceptance upon his mind- a sharp inhale, a steeled gaze, and determination to pull it off.

'We're close.'
'The brink of our ascension.'
'Just one more step. It's all it takes.'

Even as his soul was slowly being coaxed out of his body, enough to almost render him unconscious as it's on the brink of fully escaping on its journey to the phylactery, the Rowan seemed extremely exhausted, but only by the looks - within him, an endless well of energy to continue pushing, a passionate wish to see through to his immortality.

The peak of the work, the revelation dawning upon him, and a single mutter.

"I pledge my soul to you, O Azrael."
"Please accept..."
(Arthur Rowan)

There is power within these hands. Something so brilliant coming at the price of those that have once lived within this realm. In the worst moments, she finds herself becoming the monsters that she once feared decades ago. The ones that were greedy within their pursuit of knowledge and victory...The ones that bid not just for perfection, but for complete victory over everything that could possibly be. In times such as these, the brilliance of this realm becomes doused within corruption and impossible light. Even as her hands raise to the ceiling, even when the drums of the deceased pulse within her head...She gives herself unto the ritual, the whims of eager palms directing the soul from one place to the next...Assisting him within his journey, pushing forth through the ritual..

"I pledge my soul to you, O Azrael."

 There will always be a certain amount of despair in times such as these. Moments, when the two bid to reach out to the morninglord, but obtaining nothing more than 'strange' silence in return. She finds that it is lethal in both sense and essence and yet...She continues to push the Rowan forward, assisting in coaxing his soul out of his frame...Assisting in lifting his essence from his body until the impossible light could be seen..

"Look.."

 In times such as these, she becomes most feral, most unwound. The slits within her gaze opening into obsidian saucers....The light of the soul that she had become obsessed with in the past is shown yet again....The impossible feeling, the desire to touch...To feel divinity and yet be so far away. It's so difficult to restrain herself, so difficult to not lose everything but...

 For their own future, for the brighter days of their people, and for their own sake...She pushes him forward. "Bask in the light of yourown power- and push. Now." The longer his soul is held outside of his body, the worst this situation will become...But still, there is a brief moment to appreciate the faded glory of what it is. A soul pulsing with the Arcana. The brilliance pushing forth in a sickening, yet...Opulent sequences.

 This is..

Perfection.
(Cho Grauhimmel)

It felt... like an embrace of cold waters, in the middle of a winter night. The power overcoming him, like a potent flood of chill, most of his body slowly but steadily surrendering to the touch of weakness as the soul was leaving the body. Though, he was not afraid of it, for he knew that it's only temporary. He knew that such weakness would fade the moment he's safely transferred to the phylactery.

The words of Kitsune were fading out. While she spoke, the eyelids of the Rowan were half-way closed, his hands having a shake to them, the inner instinct almost trying to resist the touch of temporary death... but becoming more than just a beast, becoming the Man, it was all about overcoming such instincts, wasn't it? The step was taken, and where he saw the bliss, the light...

… he saw darkness.

A collapse. Motionless, the Rowan collapsed upon his knees, his stature awkwardly leaning backwards and only not falling entirely to the floor due to a stroke of luck- the ephemera of the soul was fleeing the body, desperately looking for a new place, and it was quickly found - the body of a Spire Shard, a perfect phylactery, surrounded and fused by Arcanium and Soulsteel alike. The empowerment of Angel feather and its attached power only made it all more alluring...

For a moment, it would seem that the flicker of light escaped his body and made its way to the phylactery. There were no words escaping him, no action made by his body, only silence and nothing else.

And yet, the runes on his bracelet began flaring up, much like on phylactery. Something was happening...
(Arthur Rowan)

"Die."

 When she essentially 'died' for the first time, it was like passing through a million stars. The hellfire resonated through the depths of her soul - the corruption that reigned heavy becoming suffocating, the choked, bated breathes that spilled past her lips devolving into nothing more than an impossible struggle. The wheezing, the gasping, until she too...Had fallen into darkness. It was different. And the impossible, little light that drifted steadily to the phylactery brings about a gentle, yet impossible smile upon her features.

"And return with visions of the king." One day, Azrael will return. And when he does, this world will not just be remade....Those that exist will be forced to see the power of a true god. For now though, the alluring power grasps her attention as she takes a single step back...Her words dying down into nothingness as she speaks.

 "Force yourself to awaken. Start with your hands and feet...Steadily work your way up through the body- it should make control easier that way." Dylerun's own experience had allowed her to know that much. "Be patient, be easy."
(Cho Grauhimmel)

A gasp.

Slowly, his breath was coming back to him. He was not made to be a rotting mess of flesh, a skeleton-to-be, or a pale reflection of what he once was, no... this was a ritual for true immortality, for the true ascension of the Rowan. But even now, his breath was all about that came back to him just yet- the eyes were slowly opening, still dizzy and weak, but his senses were slowly coming back to him.

The process of stabilization was happening. Half a minute passed ever since he started to breathe again, and only then, his hand began to move- slowly, steadily, until he carefully raised it right infront of himself, inspecting it. It was all so odd... to see through the eyes that were yours, and at the same time, not really. A glance up to the phylactery, a place that was now glowing a powerful, blue-white light, containing not only the Rowan's soul, but also the divinity of Angel's feather, one that was always supported and even recharged by the runes.

"Mmmm…"

He tried to speak, but the strength was coming back slowly, rendering it fairly difficult to speak coherently. It's much like waking up from drinking perhaps too much... except, the glory was far from being even remotely comparable between the two processes.

"I did it..?"

A lean forward, and assisting himself with his hands, he was slowly rising to his feet again- there's no doubt that the Rowan was exceedingly vulnerable right now, but... that's why they picked doing it away from the public eye, after all.

It would seem, however, that nothing is wrong so far. Was it a success?
(Arthur Rowan)


 Her hands would carefully fold behind her back- the orbs of the world's elements beginning to drift away into nothingness as she speaks. "There are things that you must discover on your own at this particular point. Whether or not it has succeeded ultimately depends on your own ability and power as a necromancer. If you have pushed yourself beyond the limit and normal capabilities of one...Then you'll find out soon. And if not, then I'm certain that you'll soon understand the feeling." She adds, nodding once, twice.

 "For now...I suggest that you remain somewhat careful in what you reveal to the others. It'll save you from answering odd questions." A gentle hand is given as she slowly turns upon her heel. "As far as I'm concerned...You did do the ritual right. But the soul is one elusive thing. And sometimes, even the strongest bindings can be unraveled. But...We shall see." A smile is offered as she continues to speak.

 "Is there anything else you'd like to ask?"
(Cho Grauhimmel)

Even now, it all felt strangely odd.

Despite all his knowledge, his age and his experiences, it felt like being born anew. To some degree, it was a bit awkward, and even felt like it would make you vulnerable... on the other hand, it felt absolutely great, like the life started a second time for him.

Perhaps, this is the new age not only for him, but for Dawn.

"Yes, yes... I don't think telling others would be wise idea at all. That would result in the searches of phylactery, to begin with."

"And... no, I have no other questions. I suppose now I wait and see how the effects turn out."

As much as everything was done correct, perhaps, the elusive soul practice would backfire... perhaps. He hopes it doesn't.
(Arthur Rowan)