Spring 86, 512 AV
Few men live long with seeds of murder in their hearts. Most seek to release such darkness, others learn to bury them. For a hypnotist, there are few situations more explosive than jealousy and wrath. Combined they are a palpable firestorm, a raging maelstrom of potential gain at the cost of great pain. But…then and again, few hypnotists gain a level of power considerable enough to tip such scales without losing something of themselves.
Shroud was beyond guilt when he began stalking Professor Marvin. The Magecrafting professor was a surprisingly young man with a beautiful wife. As the story went, they had met abroad in Syliras and both retired to Zeltiva to teach. She was an important name in the Archeology department and both shared a romance some spoke of in conspiratorial jealousy. There was much to be said about the man, Professor Marvin, in a positive light. He was inventive, creative, a genius in his field. Truly he understand the movements of Djed and their role within the magecrafting process. He was sympathetic, caring, and easy to engage. A heartthrob for the young women who took his classes, the man simply thrived on the positive attention. However, if one had to point at a quality of the young professor not polished and refined, it would have to be his jealousy. Once, at a celebration, his wife, Professor Alana was approached by a new faculty member. Certainly he’d made light of the matter, but was inept in hiding his obvious interest in her. By the end of the night, Professor Marvin and knocked him to the floor with a well-placed punch.
Or so the stories went.
None of these stories were lost on Shroud, skulking through the department with impure motives. It was by chance he overheard the little story, delved more to learn that, much like her husband, Alana thrived on positive attention…particularly the sighing adoration of the males in her class. While nothing sordid ever occurred, enough tiny rumors were born between dreaming students to leave a path paved for the young hypnotist. For some time he’d wondered at the extents his hypnotic power could reach. This situation was a perfect test to his abilities.
First, of course, he needed a proper motive.
But that was hardly difficult.
“So not only do you teach, but you create Magecrafted items for wizards in Syliras?”
“Not just Syliras! Ahnatep! Sometimes Alvadas or Lhavit. I haven’t the same laboratory as the masters of Sahova, but I’ve been invited to the isle no less than twice. Of course the first experience was more than enough for me…errr…I mean to say, well, the isle is not so kind to those who still breathe. You know the nuits? What they are? Yes?”
Sitting in Marvin’s spacious office, Shroud nodded eagerly, easily playing the part of the excited student. “Yes sir, I met a few during my travels…and there are a small number here, yes?”
“Of course,” Marvin answered with a firm nod, “Plenty. Zeltiva and Sahova are usually most kind to the nuit…we’re some of the few people who understand their…erm…unique perspective on life.”
“Fascinating. But you mentioned you make magecrafted items? Any you’re currently working on?”
“Ah!” Marvin held up a hand, “I’m not supposed to speak about my projects. They’re private University matters. You understand.”
“Certainly,” Shroud agreed, sending a tendril of hypnotic ease into the teacher, “But what could it harm? I’ve considered pursuing Magecrafting for some time, but I’m not sure what employment is like for any accomplished users of the craft.”
What could it hurt? Imagined in his own voice, Marvin was the unwitting victim of the master hypnotist.
Sighing, sitting back in his chair and struggling with the answer, Marvin finally relented and put both arms on his desk. He motioned Wrenmae to sit closer and he did, craning his neck in as if they were two spies exchanging information.
“Very well, very well, but only a bit. I’m only a few days from finishing two projects of particular interest. There’s a mage in Sahova who wants to expedite the process of morphing. Imagine that…I always figured they changed slow as to be careful. Anyways, it isn’t completed yet, but it will take the form of a bracer that nearly doubles the natural speed of morphing…could be terribly dangerous with prolonged use, of course, but the genius is that it focuses Djed, funnels it, and utilizing the idea of Flux, morphing’s opposite, it creates waves of changes that flow to and from different places in the body…it’s faster, if but a little confusing.”
“And the second?”
“Oh! A sword for a knight in Syliras. He wanted a blade that could catch fire, so I’ve crafted him one. Pretty standard as far as Magecraft goes, but the fun was in encoding it only to him. No one else who picks up the blade will ever be able to use the sword, only him…that’s where it gets expensive, of course, in the steps and transformations…err, the effects, you understand? A Magecrafter could be a master, but they need a lot of expensive stuff to even make a good item. So, obviously you need a list of buyers who can supply you with the mizas you need to buy the supplies for creation.”
“Fantastic!” Shroud applauded, grinning, “Certainly an interesting field to go into.”
Marvin nodded, smiling, “Indeed! Indeed! Although I don’t typically welcome competition, I’m always happy to teach.”
“Certainly,” Wrenmae agreed with a nod, “I’ll certainly give it thought for next semester. Thank you Professor.”
As Marvin nodded, Wrenmae assaulted his mind again. Yes, the young man reminded him…just a few days ago, he’d seen a similar, although not exact, young man speaking to his wife. They’d seemed awfully friendly, close even, and her gaze had lingered for a moment too long on him as he headed off down the hall. Certainly she wasn’t unfaithful to him, but the seed of doubt would fan the jealousy Shroud already deduced was there. Too many stories, too many occurrences with the ‘great’ professor Marvin. Now the man had a certain something Shroud wanted.
The rest would follow.
Few men live long with seeds of murder in their hearts. Most seek to release such darkness, others learn to bury them. For a hypnotist, there are few situations more explosive than jealousy and wrath. Combined they are a palpable firestorm, a raging maelstrom of potential gain at the cost of great pain. But…then and again, few hypnotists gain a level of power considerable enough to tip such scales without losing something of themselves.
Shroud was beyond guilt when he began stalking Professor Marvin. The Magecrafting professor was a surprisingly young man with a beautiful wife. As the story went, they had met abroad in Syliras and both retired to Zeltiva to teach. She was an important name in the Archeology department and both shared a romance some spoke of in conspiratorial jealousy. There was much to be said about the man, Professor Marvin, in a positive light. He was inventive, creative, a genius in his field. Truly he understand the movements of Djed and their role within the magecrafting process. He was sympathetic, caring, and easy to engage. A heartthrob for the young women who took his classes, the man simply thrived on the positive attention. However, if one had to point at a quality of the young professor not polished and refined, it would have to be his jealousy. Once, at a celebration, his wife, Professor Alana was approached by a new faculty member. Certainly he’d made light of the matter, but was inept in hiding his obvious interest in her. By the end of the night, Professor Marvin and knocked him to the floor with a well-placed punch.
Or so the stories went.
None of these stories were lost on Shroud, skulking through the department with impure motives. It was by chance he overheard the little story, delved more to learn that, much like her husband, Alana thrived on positive attention…particularly the sighing adoration of the males in her class. While nothing sordid ever occurred, enough tiny rumors were born between dreaming students to leave a path paved for the young hypnotist. For some time he’d wondered at the extents his hypnotic power could reach. This situation was a perfect test to his abilities.
First, of course, he needed a proper motive.
But that was hardly difficult.
“So not only do you teach, but you create Magecrafted items for wizards in Syliras?”
“Not just Syliras! Ahnatep! Sometimes Alvadas or Lhavit. I haven’t the same laboratory as the masters of Sahova, but I’ve been invited to the isle no less than twice. Of course the first experience was more than enough for me…errr…I mean to say, well, the isle is not so kind to those who still breathe. You know the nuits? What they are? Yes?”
Sitting in Marvin’s spacious office, Shroud nodded eagerly, easily playing the part of the excited student. “Yes sir, I met a few during my travels…and there are a small number here, yes?”
“Of course,” Marvin answered with a firm nod, “Plenty. Zeltiva and Sahova are usually most kind to the nuit…we’re some of the few people who understand their…erm…unique perspective on life.”
“Fascinating. But you mentioned you make magecrafted items? Any you’re currently working on?”
“Ah!” Marvin held up a hand, “I’m not supposed to speak about my projects. They’re private University matters. You understand.”
“Certainly,” Shroud agreed, sending a tendril of hypnotic ease into the teacher, “But what could it harm? I’ve considered pursuing Magecrafting for some time, but I’m not sure what employment is like for any accomplished users of the craft.”
What could it hurt? Imagined in his own voice, Marvin was the unwitting victim of the master hypnotist.
Sighing, sitting back in his chair and struggling with the answer, Marvin finally relented and put both arms on his desk. He motioned Wrenmae to sit closer and he did, craning his neck in as if they were two spies exchanging information.
“Very well, very well, but only a bit. I’m only a few days from finishing two projects of particular interest. There’s a mage in Sahova who wants to expedite the process of morphing. Imagine that…I always figured they changed slow as to be careful. Anyways, it isn’t completed yet, but it will take the form of a bracer that nearly doubles the natural speed of morphing…could be terribly dangerous with prolonged use, of course, but the genius is that it focuses Djed, funnels it, and utilizing the idea of Flux, morphing’s opposite, it creates waves of changes that flow to and from different places in the body…it’s faster, if but a little confusing.”
“And the second?”
“Oh! A sword for a knight in Syliras. He wanted a blade that could catch fire, so I’ve crafted him one. Pretty standard as far as Magecraft goes, but the fun was in encoding it only to him. No one else who picks up the blade will ever be able to use the sword, only him…that’s where it gets expensive, of course, in the steps and transformations…err, the effects, you understand? A Magecrafter could be a master, but they need a lot of expensive stuff to even make a good item. So, obviously you need a list of buyers who can supply you with the mizas you need to buy the supplies for creation.”
“Fantastic!” Shroud applauded, grinning, “Certainly an interesting field to go into.”
Marvin nodded, smiling, “Indeed! Indeed! Although I don’t typically welcome competition, I’m always happy to teach.”
“Certainly,” Wrenmae agreed with a nod, “I’ll certainly give it thought for next semester. Thank you Professor.”
As Marvin nodded, Wrenmae assaulted his mind again. Yes, the young man reminded him…just a few days ago, he’d seen a similar, although not exact, young man speaking to his wife. They’d seemed awfully friendly, close even, and her gaze had lingered for a moment too long on him as he headed off down the hall. Certainly she wasn’t unfaithful to him, but the seed of doubt would fan the jealousy Shroud already deduced was there. Too many stories, too many occurrences with the ‘great’ professor Marvin. Now the man had a certain something Shroud wanted.
The rest would follow.
