[This is the story for my custom set, Awakening. To see the actual set, go here:
Awakening official set thread]
The mage awoke with a start. It was an important day - the day he came of age, and his last day in the apprenticeship of his master. He groggily pulled on a worn-out cotton shirt and left his room to start the morning chores. As he walked down the hall towards the main chamber, trying to smooth down his unruly brown hair, he heard something from the other end of the hall, his master's workshop.
Approaching the room, he could see a faint light outlining the door, and could hear a muffled incantation from the other side. He warily raised his hand to knock on the door when it was flung open, revealing his master, a wizened old man clad in the linen robes of Otarian clerics.
"Ah, Nuriel!" the old man said, startled by his apprentice's sudden appearance. "What are you doing here this early?"
"Well master, I was about to start my duties when I heard noises coming from here. I just wanted to check that you weren’t having another incident like the one with the faceshredder," Nuriel explained.
"No, no, nothing like that... Come in, I have something for you." He stepped aside to let Nuriel in.
Nuriel was startled by the sudden sight of a shrouded human body on his master's work table. He noticed something was odd about it though; there was something attached to the figure's back. Not knowing what to make of it, he looked to his master.
"I spent all night performing the ritual, and finally she's here!" the old man exclaimed.
"... She?"
"Yes, she. What else would it- oh, the shroud. Of course. Well, you'll see soon enough." The old man pulled a perfectly round stone from his robe, with a strange glyph inscribed on it. "This, my boy, is the Sigil of Light. Infused with pure white mana, it grants its holder the ability to summon messengers of the divine, angels."
A shiver went up Nuriel's spine. "So she's a-"
"Yes."
"And you-"
"Right. Now, let's wake her up." The old man stood over the body of the angel, holding the stone over her heart. The glyph began to pulse with white light, throwing the workshop into sharp shadows. The glow intensified as he began reciting a spell in a language Nuriel couldn't understand, getting louder and brighter until finally she stirred.
The angel pushed herself up on one arm, and the shroud fell from her face, revealing her light brown hair. She squinted against the light until Nuriel stepped between them. He offered her a hand, helping her to sit upright. Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, and Nuriel was struck by their blue clarity.
She struggled to find her balance, letting go of Nuriel and stretching out her wings. Nuriel and his master were so in awe at her awakening that they barely noticed how her impressive wingspan managed to knock over almost everything in the room. She startled herself with the commotion, though, and she looked around the room before groggily asking "Where am I?"
The old man stepped forward. "You are in my workshop, on the Daru Plain of Otaria. I am Malik, and this is my apprentice Nuriel. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lumaera."
"Lumaera..." She repeated the name the old man had given her. After pondering it, she slid off of the table and rose to her full height. She towered over the old man, and was about a head taller than the boy. She regarded them each in turn, and Nuriel suddenly felt out of place with his tattered clothes and messy hair. "And what is it you would have me do, master?" she asked the old man.
"Ah, you misunderstand, dear. I am not your master; he is." At that, both the mage and the angel looked at the old man with shock.
"Master, really?" Nuriel asked.
"Yes, of course. It is your last day with me, after all. The road to the Archaean academy, not to mention the city itself, are very dangerous. I wouldn't have you walking them alone." He sifted through the mess caused by Lumaera's wings until he found a pair of swords. "Now, Lumaera, these are for you. Nuriel will need you to be at the best of your abilities if the two of you are going to make it to Archaea."
She bowed her head and accepted the swords. "Thank you, sir. I will be."
"The same goes for you, Nuriel. Are you also going to train to be at your best?"
Speechless, all Nuriel could muster was a weak nod.
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