Timestamp: 42nd of Spring, 510 AV
Location: The Testing Grounds
Location: The Testing Grounds
The Testing Grounds was a location most inhabitants of Sahova approached with a particular purpose as well as the utmost caution. Magical experiments were taking place day and night; the whole area was coated in an eerie atmosphere of danger. Every chime something could go wrong and add another taint to the destroyed landscape. Anything could happen when experiments went wrong – and the whole purpose of an experiment was to determine whether the test object worked or not, after all, so unpleasant surprises were expected by everyone. Of course, one wouldn’t find most of the more skilled and higher-ranked wizards out at the fields, but it was evident that even not-so-complex projects could go terribly wrong. Nobody approached the Testing Grounds without a plan to prevent the worst.
Nobody except Malia.
Although she had been diligently training in Animation all day and night when not tending to her body, her creations still weren’t big enough to require outside testing. The laboratories and materials were open to her and she made excessive use of them. However, at this particular night she decided to take a break from her studies. Nuit, relying on the degree of decay, tended to their bodies carefully. Usually anyway. Recently Malia hadn’t watched the condition of her vessel carefully enough – her eyes were starting to hurt and her fingers, drawing sketches and notes and crafting golems all the time, had decreased to ugly, skinny claws. Obviously it was time to ask for a new body very soon. However, Malia’s position within the citadel was a precarious one – never knowing which requests would be allowed and which not, she constantly tried to balance on the thin line between the rules and her own desires and plans.
In so many ways, life in Sahova was more difficult and exhausting than being the shadow of a human mingling with humans. Additionally, her Animation skills were at the beginner level at best. In extreme situations she would have to rely on her tongue – avoiding to use the Kalivant whenever possible – and that made her uneasy. Humans feared Nuit, but Nuit carried no inhibitions towards other Nuit. Perhaps she should consider herself lucky that she had learned as much during her short stay.
So she figured that the Testing Grounds would be the perfect place to spend some time away from everyone else. One expected everything out there – but at the same time one expected nothing at all. Nobody would wonder why she wandered out of the laboratory. Additionally, the area was so big that nobody would seek contact with her or even detect her if she only found a spot where trees or bushes were still growing.
As soon as the small dark figure had entered black earth, a leather bag hanging over her shoulder, thick tension hit her senses. The vast amount of magical pollution was obvious. Of course, the whole island of Sahova existed under different conditions than the rest of Mizahar, but the Testing Grounds definitely was the worst. Even those who weren’t able to sense Djed feld uneasy here. Malia hoped that that fact didn’t disturb her from relaxing and continued wandering through the damaged land.
Grass was growing on a patch about ten feet big and a crooked and twisted tree had survived the harsh conditions. Although the place still didn’t look inviting, Malia figured that she found it better than the surroundings and entered the soft rug of grass. A few moments were spent with running fingers through the bright green pattern, inspecting the rough bark of the tree and smelling the sweet, fresh scent of nature. Inside the citadel one got to smell reality very seldom which almost caused the impression that Sahova existed out of the real Mizahar. Of course, that was not possible. But still Malia had the vague feeling of being disconnected from something whenever she wandered the corridors built of solid dark stone … something that should be there.
Nevertheless she leaned against the tree bark, black hair and yellow dress dancing in a momentary breeze. After a while her attention turned to the leather bag and her hands produced the rolling silhouette of a simply crafted, yet beautiful lyre. She hadn’t tried to hide the affection for music and instruments, but at the same time she found it better not to let everyone see what she was up to in her free time. Not that she had free time – she simply created it herself. And that was something she wasn’t sure other Nuit would approve of. One had to maintain a certain image when one had to survive in Sahova …
While her thin and deathly pale fingers absentmindedly strummed the strings of the lyre, Malia’s mind was elsewhere. Although she had escaped the boundaries of the intimidating stone structures, she still couldn’t fully relax. An ever-present sort of tension had crept into her veins, into her very being, so that she never felt quite safe.
Not in Sahova, anyway, surrounded by so many creatures that weren’t in the least human.