83rd of Fall, 513A.V.
The Great Library Entrance, Citadel, Sahova
Pan had had enough! He was tired of fearing his own abilities. Was it too much to ask for some confidence in his voids? Animation and his tinkering with the crafting of golems was coming along finely. He had no objections there. But his grasp of the Void, though relatively accurate and informed, was tempered with trepidation. That would just not do. He needed to find some way to gain confidence in the field. Was he destined for failure in the art. Was it simply too much knowledge for one wizard to master animation and voiding?
No of course not! He had seen wizards with more than one ring on their dead hands here in Sahova. He thumbed his own subconsciously. He had taken to doing it when his nerves were getting the better of him. Pandaemus had decided the Great Library was as good a place as any to start. It certainly held knowledge of the subject, and perhaps it would help him overcome his dread. It was certainly worth a try. Fear of one's weapon was healthy. It reminded the wielder that death was always right around the corner, he knew. But the level of fear he had in voiding, well that inhibited him from even using the power sometimes.
The library was in the first basement floor of the Gug Adjak and Pandaemus knew the location well, though had little time for reading now. Cid, his slavemaster as he referred to him, had him working almost nonstop down in the lab. Pan’s preoccupied frown creased the now white skin of his face. His body had paled and was not unmistakably a corpse. Most noticeably for him, his hands had thinned out and seemed eerie in their movement. Unnatural was the word. But he had started to numb to the unnaturalness of his state.
His staff hissed and slinked about itself as he listened to the thudding of the wood on the stones of the citadel. Quiet. It was almost always quiet. Most of the occupants of the dark castle were shut away within the Gug Adjak, bent over their work with little regard for the world around them. But Pan was still cursed with youth. His sense of discovery made him somewhat antsy in what little down time he had. Applying himself wholly to his tasks, he had been able to avoid it. However, the thrill of new discovery in his animations and tinkering was not always a remedy for his anxiousness. The self discovery of a teen was plaguing his halted aging. He was eternal now, but still walked in the shadow of life.
The apprentice had hardly lived for ages, like some of the ancient personages of Sahova. But he was faced with an eternity of existence. It troubled him deeply, this inevitable boredom and detachment from the world. The thought deeply troubled him to the point of ignorance of what was in front of him.
A woman was standing in front of the doors to the Great Library. Pan slowed his walk as he approached and scrutinized the woman more closely. She was tall, too tall for a woman by Pandaemus’ limited experience. Her black hair fell from a warm face. A Pulser. Interesting. What was she doing here? He saw a ring upon her finger, but could not tell from where it came from. In truth he only knew his own ring, the cog of Animation. The pale cadaver ran his thumb over it gently as he looked upon her.
“Hello, here to use the library as well?” He kept his voice even and without emphasis. Consciously keeping the habitual reverence that he used with Cid out of his tone. He gripped his staff with one hand, the wood warm to his cold fingers. The snake head gazed at the woman with ruby eyes and opened it’s tiny maw. It mocked the vicious threat of greater snakes with it’s wooden fangs.
The Great Library Entrance, Citadel, Sahova
Pan had had enough! He was tired of fearing his own abilities. Was it too much to ask for some confidence in his voids? Animation and his tinkering with the crafting of golems was coming along finely. He had no objections there. But his grasp of the Void, though relatively accurate and informed, was tempered with trepidation. That would just not do. He needed to find some way to gain confidence in the field. Was he destined for failure in the art. Was it simply too much knowledge for one wizard to master animation and voiding?
No of course not! He had seen wizards with more than one ring on their dead hands here in Sahova. He thumbed his own subconsciously. He had taken to doing it when his nerves were getting the better of him. Pandaemus had decided the Great Library was as good a place as any to start. It certainly held knowledge of the subject, and perhaps it would help him overcome his dread. It was certainly worth a try. Fear of one's weapon was healthy. It reminded the wielder that death was always right around the corner, he knew. But the level of fear he had in voiding, well that inhibited him from even using the power sometimes.
The library was in the first basement floor of the Gug Adjak and Pandaemus knew the location well, though had little time for reading now. Cid, his slavemaster as he referred to him, had him working almost nonstop down in the lab. Pan’s preoccupied frown creased the now white skin of his face. His body had paled and was not unmistakably a corpse. Most noticeably for him, his hands had thinned out and seemed eerie in their movement. Unnatural was the word. But he had started to numb to the unnaturalness of his state.
His staff hissed and slinked about itself as he listened to the thudding of the wood on the stones of the citadel. Quiet. It was almost always quiet. Most of the occupants of the dark castle were shut away within the Gug Adjak, bent over their work with little regard for the world around them. But Pan was still cursed with youth. His sense of discovery made him somewhat antsy in what little down time he had. Applying himself wholly to his tasks, he had been able to avoid it. However, the thrill of new discovery in his animations and tinkering was not always a remedy for his anxiousness. The self discovery of a teen was plaguing his halted aging. He was eternal now, but still walked in the shadow of life.
The apprentice had hardly lived for ages, like some of the ancient personages of Sahova. But he was faced with an eternity of existence. It troubled him deeply, this inevitable boredom and detachment from the world. The thought deeply troubled him to the point of ignorance of what was in front of him.
A woman was standing in front of the doors to the Great Library. Pan slowed his walk as he approached and scrutinized the woman more closely. She was tall, too tall for a woman by Pandaemus’ limited experience. Her black hair fell from a warm face. A Pulser. Interesting. What was she doing here? He saw a ring upon her finger, but could not tell from where it came from. In truth he only knew his own ring, the cog of Animation. The pale cadaver ran his thumb over it gently as he looked upon her.
“Hello, here to use the library as well?” He kept his voice even and without emphasis. Consciously keeping the habitual reverence that he used with Cid out of his tone. He gripped his staff with one hand, the wood warm to his cold fingers. The snake head gazed at the woman with ruby eyes and opened it’s tiny maw. It mocked the vicious threat of greater snakes with it’s wooden fangs.
