[indent]20th of Winter, 516 AV
[justify]
The day had only just begun, and already the Nuit council had seen a handful of apprentices come and go without fanfare. Of course, each was a well-disciplined mage, and could do marvelous things with their Djed, but it simply was not enough for Sahovan standards. They were looking for someone not to learn what had already been discovered, but someone who could forge new pathways into research. They needed someone creative, someone balanced in their talents, and most of all, someone brave.
Sahova would settle for nothing less.
“Fool.” Emarus scoffed. The to-be apprentice was attempting to hypnotise a slave into believing he was dead- a grand and interesting feat if he could accomplish it. Of course, the slave tilted its head in curiousity, rubbing at its forehead as it listened.
“Aren’t you so cold here? It’s almost as if your blood has stopped pumping.” The mage offered.
The slave looked concerned for a moment, rubbing his hairy arms as if to ward off a chill, but then shook his head decisively, in the way one might shake off a dream.
“No. No, that’s not possible.” The slave mumbled in broken Common.
“It is possible if you are undead. Aren’t you?” The mage prompted. The slave still looked unperturbed, save for a furrowing of his brow.
Finally, Emarus’ voice broke through the pitiful show. “Unless you are aiming to be an apprentice of Iceris, I suggest you move on. Persuasion is not what we do here...especially not if you aren’t any good at it.” Iceris gave Emarus a sideways glance, but brushed off the back-handed insult with a shrug. It was true; she much prefered the arts of politics and persuasion, performed well. And this mage had neither.
The boy mage in question trembled, glancing over at the test subject as if in search of support. “I...I can…” But he could speak no further.
“Are we ready to vote? All in favor of promoting the mage to Apprentice?”
A silence crowded the room, nearly suffocating the boy.
“All opposed?”
A chorus rang from the council, as Emarus, Iceris, Arios, Mistress Wanda, and Cid all nodded in solemn agreement. He was not Sahovan material. One of the council ordered the boy taken away, and the next one to be retrieved. Mistress Wanda leaned back in her chair, her bones and voice creaking as she commented.
“How nice it would be if they could come to us already learned.”
As she heard the next enter, she hummed with disinterest, not bothering to look up. "Name and field of specialization, please. Then you may begin."
[justify]
The day had only just begun, and already the Nuit council had seen a handful of apprentices come and go without fanfare. Of course, each was a well-disciplined mage, and could do marvelous things with their Djed, but it simply was not enough for Sahovan standards. They were looking for someone not to learn what had already been discovered, but someone who could forge new pathways into research. They needed someone creative, someone balanced in their talents, and most of all, someone brave.
Sahova would settle for nothing less.
“Fool.” Emarus scoffed. The to-be apprentice was attempting to hypnotise a slave into believing he was dead- a grand and interesting feat if he could accomplish it. Of course, the slave tilted its head in curiousity, rubbing at its forehead as it listened.
“Aren’t you so cold here? It’s almost as if your blood has stopped pumping.” The mage offered.
The slave looked concerned for a moment, rubbing his hairy arms as if to ward off a chill, but then shook his head decisively, in the way one might shake off a dream.
“No. No, that’s not possible.” The slave mumbled in broken Common.
“It is possible if you are undead. Aren’t you?” The mage prompted. The slave still looked unperturbed, save for a furrowing of his brow.
Finally, Emarus’ voice broke through the pitiful show. “Unless you are aiming to be an apprentice of Iceris, I suggest you move on. Persuasion is not what we do here...especially not if you aren’t any good at it.” Iceris gave Emarus a sideways glance, but brushed off the back-handed insult with a shrug. It was true; she much prefered the arts of politics and persuasion, performed well. And this mage had neither.
The boy mage in question trembled, glancing over at the test subject as if in search of support. “I...I can…” But he could speak no further.
“Are we ready to vote? All in favor of promoting the mage to Apprentice?”
A silence crowded the room, nearly suffocating the boy.
“All opposed?”
A chorus rang from the council, as Emarus, Iceris, Arios, Mistress Wanda, and Cid all nodded in solemn agreement. He was not Sahovan material. One of the council ordered the boy taken away, and the next one to be retrieved. Mistress Wanda leaned back in her chair, her bones and voice creaking as she commented.
“How nice it would be if they could come to us already learned.”
As she heard the next enter, she hummed with disinterest, not bothering to look up. "Name and field of specialization, please. Then you may begin."