9th Spring, 512 AV
The two of them sat there for awhile, across the table from each other. The Womiyu Library was a vast place, with books aplenty, but rarely visited, rarely appreciated by many of it's residents, and so they were alone this day. The first of them, a young man, was regarding an important looking piece of parchment intently, while the second of them, a young boy, simply tried to look alert and interested at what his older companion was doing.
And failed terribly at it.
It went on for awhile.
And finally...
"Your name is Antoninus Arrius?" the man asked.
It was such a mouthful, really. So much pomp and affectation thrown into two words. It made him sound like an old man with a needlessly long beard, one that wore robes the colour of stars and smelled of cheap ointment and dried leaves. He never liked the name, nor did he ever learnt who gave him it to him; it was simply there since he could first talk and write, etched into him with a searing, embarrassment-laced knife.
Whoever did probably served Rhysol though. Or Kyrsus. Might even have been elevated to their right hand for committing such a vile sin. My dread servants, it is with dark joy that I present to you your New Voice, anointed for forever ruining this otherwise brilliant child's life with a truly idiotic name! Strive for greater evil, vile ones, though they may pale when placed beside this true act of malice!
But yes. Yes it was his name.
"Anton will do, sir." he said, his voice
"A mutual exchange then," the man's voice was mellow and strong, and made his own sound like a soft whisper in comparison. "Drop the sir. Huntell will do, Anton."
Huntell's appearance was a mirror into the future, of what Anton could have possibly looked like -or at least hoped to- in a decade or so. He had the same long brown hair and dark brown eyes, a similarish long, straight face, and the same sort of thinish body. But the combination of an extra 2 feet of height and the way he carried himself made all the difference in the world. Huntell looked dashing in his silencer uniform.
Anton's uniform, on the other hand, was just a shade short of looking like an azure potato sack on him. "You'll fill out soon enough!" the priest who issued it said. "You're a growing boy!" he added. He was doubtful on both counts, but more annoyingly, he had to pull up the sleeves every 5 steps he took.
"Do you know why you're here, Anton?"
"No," Yes, new nursemaid.
"Your begin work as a silencer next week." He paused, and when he spoke again, his words came slower, as if he were choosing them most carefully. "But to be made silencer at your age...that is an unprecedented thing. Some from above are unsure that the right choice has been made. They want to monitor your progress, they want to see how you fare in the line of duty."
Bingo, nursemaid it was.
"And that's where I come in. For an indefinite period of time, I will be your handler. Your mentor. Your lecturer. Missions from above will come through me, and there will be a training regime instated for you. Right now, we have a week to get you ready for your first assignment."
Irritation poked at Anton. He was expecting a supervisor, yes, a direct superior but not one that would dictate his everyday life. He was a full-fledged silencer now, right? He could live his own life outside work, right?
Wrong.
But all he did was smile and nod his head enthusiastically.
"Now," Huntell picked up the parchment. "It says here that you're a mage-type. Major discipline is Reimancy, with voiding and projection as minors. We'll move to the training grounds. See what ya got."
And failed terribly at it.
It went on for awhile.
And finally...
"Your name is Antoninus Arrius?" the man asked.
It was such a mouthful, really. So much pomp and affectation thrown into two words. It made him sound like an old man with a needlessly long beard, one that wore robes the colour of stars and smelled of cheap ointment and dried leaves. He never liked the name, nor did he ever learnt who gave him it to him; it was simply there since he could first talk and write, etched into him with a searing, embarrassment-laced knife.
Whoever did probably served Rhysol though. Or Kyrsus. Might even have been elevated to their right hand for committing such a vile sin. My dread servants, it is with dark joy that I present to you your New Voice, anointed for forever ruining this otherwise brilliant child's life with a truly idiotic name! Strive for greater evil, vile ones, though they may pale when placed beside this true act of malice!
But yes. Yes it was his name.
"Anton will do, sir." he said, his voice
"A mutual exchange then," the man's voice was mellow and strong, and made his own sound like a soft whisper in comparison. "Drop the sir. Huntell will do, Anton."
Huntell's appearance was a mirror into the future, of what Anton could have possibly looked like -or at least hoped to- in a decade or so. He had the same long brown hair and dark brown eyes, a similarish long, straight face, and the same sort of thinish body. But the combination of an extra 2 feet of height and the way he carried himself made all the difference in the world. Huntell looked dashing in his silencer uniform.
Anton's uniform, on the other hand, was just a shade short of looking like an azure potato sack on him. "You'll fill out soon enough!" the priest who issued it said. "You're a growing boy!" he added. He was doubtful on both counts, but more annoyingly, he had to pull up the sleeves every 5 steps he took.
"Do you know why you're here, Anton?"
"No," Yes, new nursemaid.
"Your begin work as a silencer next week." He paused, and when he spoke again, his words came slower, as if he were choosing them most carefully. "But to be made silencer at your age...that is an unprecedented thing. Some from above are unsure that the right choice has been made. They want to monitor your progress, they want to see how you fare in the line of duty."
Bingo, nursemaid it was.
"And that's where I come in. For an indefinite period of time, I will be your handler. Your mentor. Your lecturer. Missions from above will come through me, and there will be a training regime instated for you. Right now, we have a week to get you ready for your first assignment."
Irritation poked at Anton. He was expecting a supervisor, yes, a direct superior but not one that would dictate his everyday life. He was a full-fledged silencer now, right? He could live his own life outside work, right?
Wrong.
But all he did was smile and nod his head enthusiastically.
"Now," Huntell picked up the parchment. "It says here that you're a mage-type. Major discipline is Reimancy, with voiding and projection as minors. We'll move to the training grounds. See what ya got."
There is nothing wrong with struggling and learning things the 'hard way'. It makes for a more believable character and really makes the journey all the more rewarding when you can do it on command like that. Please describe the process more, and less on the immediate results. Same thing with Reimancy, though displayed good, more detail on the actual spell itself, the res production, and whatnot. Though it had nice flow and didnt hinder the overall tone of the thread, which was nice. Just if you want more XP its all in the details.
