The Warp

The drive to perform the last rites never really subsided.

The location he chose was actually meaningful- standing on the edge of a cliff, peering down into the abyss of the ocean, he knew that this would be no easy challenge, that this would be, in fact, perhaps the greatest thing he's done with Riftmancy yet.

But he knows that he has to try, even if it tears him apart.

"If you see as I lose it, do not pull back. Provide me with mana, regardless of my condition."

Slowly and surely, the mana over the ocean was drawn in a single concentrated point. The mana that Adjudicator possessed was enough to shatter the realms, to quake the reality itself, and surely it would be enough to even tear the Lifestream apart, all to provide the transportation.

In his mind, he traced back to the picture of a jungle; the buzzing insects, the singing birds, the howl of predators in the distance, the countless vines and roots scattered on the ground, all of it flooded in his head. Sheer imagery was enough for him to complete the connection with relative ease, the tall trees he remembered were all over his mind.

What about maintaining it, though?

Steadily, the warp was opening. Like a sinkhole, the water swirled around a single point, boiling and protesting against this outrageous transportation.

Something is stirring.
(Arthur Rowan)

It's almost as if he's looking to die. And to be quite honest, she isn't sure if she should be the one to push him within that direction - but regardless of her feelings, she remains the same. A single nod is offered as she moves to sit upon the edge of the cliff with a sigh. "You cannot continue playing with Rift Magic like that - if you can't take it, then I'll be forced to stop. It's not like necromancy...You don't get redos and second chances. You're messing with the lifestream and the one moment of your 'weakness' can end in your death. I'll provide you with mana...As long as I feel as if you're ready for it." She sets up a boundary. He might push himself to the end, but in doing so, he'll lose the anchor that holds him down.

 As of now though, the woman would begin to meditate once more...Breathing in and out, practicing her own mantra. Steady, careful, the pale light of proxima would soon shine down upon his being - warping, enlightening mana circuits in exchange of wellbeing. "Be careful this time." After all, they're only human. And humans only have a limited amount of energy, unlike other creatures.

 "Tell me when you feel it.."

 Until then - she waits, nodding once while occultism swivels about, continuing and being channeled alongside her own cosmic magic.
(Bei Rowan)

There are no boundaries he accepted.

The human weakness, the limit in the energy and their potency, those were the things he absolutely despised the most. The fact that Demonic creatures were allowed to have so much power in them, while they do naught but spread chaos, and Vampires, the undead creatures that live for their carnal desires - all of them had so much potency in them, it caused him to grow restless.

And for what? Why, how did they deserve this power?

"I'm not playing with it, Bei."

Promptly, his gaze turns to her. It's almost judgemental, the sheer glance of his eyes quite literally instilling the command of 'do not hold me back' - it's not out of malice or anger to her, really, but out of the myriad frustrations that were welling up in his mind and heart.

"This is serious. This is important. I need you to allow myself to push it to the limit, no matter how rough it gets."

"Please... do not disappoint me. Do not withdraw when I'm almost at the peak, even if it looks grim."

After all, she promised to make him a god. What sort of a god would he be if he were unable to bend the Lifestream to his will? What kind of a god would he be if he were unable to perform even the acts of teleportation like this?

He would be nothing.

The sinkhole widens. The black lightning strikes into the depth of the abyss, as it widens further, more and more, until it begins to rupture- the size has reached enough to fit two people inside, but--

-- that's not enough. Not for him.

"Begin lending your mana, slowly."
(Arthur Rowan)

"I just don't want you to die-...It's not safe to expend yourself and continue going when you are tired, it's-.."

 Playing wasn't the right word to use- but then again, he must understand that precaution is something that must be taken. If he doesn't respect it...Then he'll end up hurting himself. It shows that she is extremely reluctant, but as of now, the stare that he gives her is returned with one of her own. It isn't out of malice, nor anger - but mere caution. She values his safety more than she does with his own advancements. It seems that she isn't particularly ready to push him off of the deep end. Atleast, not yet. However, reluctantly - she gives in, her eyes casted down as she continues onward..

"Very well then."

 In the end, she knows what it is that she promised him. And she knows that sometimes...Being bound by words often means that you have to go through with them. But at the very least, when she said it - she wasn't influenced by any darkness within her heart. It was genuine...Out of love and desire. In the end though, despite the sigh....Despite al of the corruption, she continues giving him the mana that he deserves - all the while, feeling as if she had lost pieces of her own self in the midst.

"Just-...Don't leave."

 It is a worry, in the end. Regardless though, the mana that is given is handed over slowly - with her acting as the 'conduit' to his own riftmancy.
(Bei Rowan)

Of course he would not push himself to the point that he would die.

Though it's hard to draw such line before the limit is breached, he still takes at least some caution in his workings. Slowly and steadily, his own mana output grows by a large margin- it's not that he couldn't create a larger Rift on his own, it's the fact that if he did so without her, the damage would begin to rip his body apart much, much sooner otherwise.

Even then, it's still a dangerous affair.

"Thank you."

A dry statement, before his attention is focused back on the task at hand. It's clear that the Rift ripples with the dark energy, one that comes from violation of the Lifestream itself. The rules and laws of the universe are defied, all to create a maelstrom inside the abyss of the sea- somewhere, on the other side of Agartha in the jungle, there's an endless stream of sea water pouring out.

Seemingly out of nowhere, too.

But the sacrifice must be already made. She's given her mana to him, and already she could feel the fatigue settling in- he takes no pride in using her in such way, but unfortunately, it's necessary. It's like being drained of your power, of your strength, of all your energy.

Like a marathon that you're running within the timespan of few minutes.

"Bei, if you begin feeling bad, let me know."
(Arthur Rowan)

It doesn't take much for the exhaustion to set in, especially, since rift users often get tired after summoning two. But here he was, pushing himself to the limit and attempting to go beyond. The struggle presents itself within the form of breath. When he continues, it becomes rapid - bated...As if she had been running for far longer than what she could take. But despite such a thing, it was never the problem that she had. Instead, what comes upon her form is natural...Bruises appearing upon her flesh, turning pink, then red, and then an ashen purple in random small patches. They are...Negligible. And she's gotten worse from fighting vampires.

 In the end though, despite breathing heavy - she simply continues onward...Giving him more mana than what she could possibly deal with. And because of such, more jagged rips could be heard coming from the lifestream itself. "Keep going, I'm fine...I need this practice anyway." She has learned, that this constant pain - that this breathing is the way that she can use her magic without going awry. She has learned that pain is the key to stop her from experiencing the madness of occultism.

"More. We're going to have to learn- otherwise, we'll both die. And I'm not ready to lose you just yet." She can't stop. She refuses to, because the moment that they become still and complacent is the moment that they both die.
(Bei Rowan)

There would be no rest for the wicked.

At times like this, he could only appreciate the fact that she was there to sacrifice herself for him, if only to lend him all the power that he could possibly digest- but even with all that she gave to him, even with all that he invested in this Art, it was simply never enough. If he were to truly defy the Lifestream and prepare himself for the summoning of much greater degree, this would not work.

As such, an idea sparks in his mind and he begins drawing out the runes in the air. The runecasting was among the most potent, and it could register the flow of mana on its own while he performs the rifting, enough to truly push him to the edge.

'Imperium - the Power.'
'Potentiam - the Potency.'
'Arbitrium - the Determination.'
'Perfectum - the Perfection.'

The four words of strongest magnitude he could conjure from the top of his head, and suddenly, the Rift almost explodes with how much it expands- the ocean itself seems to rumble before them, and the black lightning shocks the surface of the water rapidly. The reality itself protests against their teamwork, trying its hardest to reject them--

-- but it's all in vain.

It grows, more and more, becoming a single rift that could fit a large crowd of people in it at once- it's a sizeable sphere that was rested within the ocean's abyss, only growing in size.

Suddenly, his hands erupt, severely bleeding onto the ground through the wounds; it's as if the dagger was stabbed through them, peeling away his flesh- yet, he doesn't seem affected.

"Almost there. Let it go if you must."
(Arthur Rowan)

It is like being cut with ice. When she tenses, she swears that her magic threatens to turn against her within the worst way. Chaotic flames become internal - and instead of burning as hot as the sun, they chill the air and the drakaness. It turns against her within the worst way - causing muscle and sinew to shift and tear - the bruises that loiter her form beginning to form splotches upon flesh from the impact and loss of mana. But despite such a thing, it doesn't seem as ifs he is quite willing to let go. She couldn't.

"No-...I'm fine."

 Breathing becomes intense within these moments - lost amongst the dread and fear of losing everything, but instead, gaining more than what she could possibly handle. "Don't stop...Not until you're ready to." It is a frozen hell that she has been introduced to. But a hell that she controlsamidst her own type of therapy. It brings shock and control...The occultism that once became unruly, subdue'd by the one thing that she had grown used to her entire life.

 Pain.

 It's a nice feeling every now and then - although, one that isn't savored. It's bittersweet.
(Bei Rowan)

Was this the end?

In a moment, it seemed to him as if the growth of the Rift has gotten out of control; it continued to expand, creating a larger and larger wormhole in the space of the sea's abyss, up until there was nothing but a black hole that devoured everything on its way- a sudden pull, and a quick realization that the trajectory of the Rift changed; a common mistake of the rookies, once their focus is thrown off.

He opened the path to the outer space.

To conjure such path was to create something that would require a sacrifice of his health and blood, and in the moment's notice, both of his hands seem to split in half, exposing the core of his flesh and the broken bones within- it urges him to scream, to weep in extreme pain, but he knows he cannot do that.

The gate must be shut.

Propped up against the rocks with his feet after being forced onto theground due to powerful pull that comes from the vacuum, his first thought is to preserve her rather than anyone else- his gaze turns to Bei, and immediately, he suspends her in a single position through the power of Telekinesis.

It's only a matter of whether the space or his connection to it has the stronger power.

"Bei, hold onto something! I'll shut the gate soon."

Though, how exactly he's going to do that?
(Arthur Rowan)

This was the risk that she had been speaking of. The failure that comes with thinking that one can go beyond their normal limitations. And because of that - she soon finds herself being lifted into the air....If only briefly, she loses control...Before being caught by the 'grip' of an unseen hand. It hoists her up briefly, before she uses her own power over the cosm to slam harshly against the 'side' of the cliffs. With a single hand embedded....There was no need to grasp onto anything...However, the damage done most certainly would be seen later. Busted knuckles, bruises loitering her flesh....It is there, where she dangles.

Haah...haah..

 Exhaustion. When she becomes too exhausted, her magic snaps. The powerful pop could be heard, resounding across the land as she grimaces in pain. Eventually, she becomes terribly motionless...Unable to resistthe pull, the only thing saving her being her on quick thinking.

"Hurry.."

 After all, it wouldn't be too long until the rocks would give out around her fist. When that happens, she'd no longer be able to fight against the rapids and current.
(Bei Rowan)

While the Rift fixated itself on Arthur, like a leech draining its victim, it drained the magi of his mana- but where a simple unweave of a spell was all too simple, this was not so easy; it refused to give up Arthur and allow him to withdraw, constantly draining mana to further fuel and expand the Rift infront of them.

This isn't good. This is absolutely horrible. How can he get out of this?

A single glance down to his split hands, and he saw just how much blood was leaving them. In that moment, he remembered- the blood is mana as well, and for as long as there's no mana to further sustain Rift, it can no longer exist. Surely, it would close itself over the time because Arthur would be drained, but--

-- at the same time, they would be long lost in the vast, dark space.

He had to think quick, and act even faster. Deciding to go for a dangerous feat of drawing out his blood with hemomancy as much as possible, essentially, he drained himself of mana at the rapid pace- his body was growing weaker, almost unable to physically resist the pull of the vacuum, but at the same time, it was getting smaller.

The tactic indeed worked. But at what cost?

The quick drainage continued, up until there was nothing in him but enough blood to simply live and barely sustain the hold of Telekinesis that held onto Bei- it was weak, inconsistent, almost letting her go at the times, yet he knew that at no cost can he let go of her. There are many things he was ready to sacrifice, but she wasn't one of those - for as long as he had any willpower left, he would still crawl her back to him.

Carefully. Slowly.

"Mmh--"

"This... this isn't good... we've almost-- ended up in space."

Plastered across the ground, with the Rift shut at last, the masked Adjudicator could hardly move. His wounds were still untreated, a result of the exhaustion that remained.
(Arthur Rowan)

There is nothing left.

 But despite that, she knew that her life was never in true danger. She figured that Arthur would do all that he possibly could to protect her, even if it meant giving up his own life in return. The problem is rather simple though...She wouldn't allow it. Under most circumstances, she would refuse to be saved...And only at this point, she'd accept it...Simply because she didn't have the power to stop him herself or move afterwards for far too long. The abuse upon muscle and sinew had done it's job...And unlike a regular magi who might recoer, her own usage of mana could often be seen as volatile. Everything hurts. Everything burns. And because of that - she hits harder, and she endures more than what anyone else possibly could.

 But to digress....Once everything is over - she would be seen slowly faltering back towards the ground, draconic wings unfurling from her back, flapping wildly before hitting the earth with a light thud. A sloppy landing, resulting within her falling squarely...But one that was lightened either way. Either way...The woman just remains motionless, breathes still hitching - words spilling from her lips.

She's angry. But it's the right kind of anger. "I don't know if I'm up to do that again.." A murmur as she rolls over, her features facing up towards the sun. "Do you think you've got the hang of it yet...?"
(Bei Rowan)

It's a good thing he possessed impressive endurance.

If he hadn't had what it takes to sustain such Rifts all the time, it would tear him apart- otherwise, he's a powerful enough magi to both conjure such a Rift, then recover from it, and then live to tell the tale after quick rest. Slowly does he raise his hands infront of him, and through the blood magic, he forces his wounds back together.

Crack, crack, pop.

A silent exhale. It takes him laying about for just another minute, before he finds some strength to sit up and glance over her. There's no doubt that she was injured as well, and after crawling up closer to her, he lays his hands over the bruise and injury.

A healing touch. Luckily, he knows the magics necessary for such.

"I did."

"I know what to do next. Just... just one more time before I can do it."

"But we'll do it another day. For now, we can rest."
(Arthur Rowan)