6th Day of Summer in the 514th Year After the Valterrain
Mid-afternoon
Looking over his shoulder, Pan lugged the box hiding the assorted small constructs out of the Citadel. As he stepped out into the summer sun he winced. The Citadel’s high walls, the grey stone tomb within which the Sahovan nuits spent their eternity, had shielded him from the sun for so long he forgot what an experience it was to the senses. The subtle burn against skin was ever more subtle now that the skin that felt it was long dead, but Pan imagined it would feel so much more if he were a man rather than the shambling corpse he was now. He squinted dry eyes in the brilliant light, shielding them with one craggy hand.
“I need a new perching body.” Admitting it to himself was a chilling step. He was still himself, in his original form. He knew his undeath was a path one could not go backwards on, but changing corp -forms, changing forms was a finality he wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for. He felt torn between the vibrant dance of life and the cold ambitious drive of undeath. Uldr’s hand had always been closed tight over his heart, but now he felt the fist squeezing.
The heat felt good against his corpse-like form. His body almost seemed to loosen, motion smoothed. Perhaps that was just his mind playing tricks on him. He was feeling sensations he had forgotten after so many weeks sitting at his desk in Lab 15 that the liveliness could be attributed to any number of factors. Earlier that day he had come to the startled realization that he had been sitting at his work desk, tucked away in Lab 15 for nearly four weeks and had only moved to speak to Cid or carry out some task. The chilling discovery signified that he was making the transition from human to Nuit in more than a physical way now. Indeed, he had found the prospect of sitting at the dest and simply letting his work consume his every thought appealing. The leap into the dark pit of undeath was blissfully inviting. What else did he have, if not Sahova and its promise of endless labor?
The prospect of eternity at that mangy desk brought a frown to the thin, pasty skin of Pandaemus’ face. He found he had been wandering towards his destination while his mind was occupied. He stood now amongst the tall grass of the Prairie, at a certain stone platform that had been created months prior by Annalisa Marin when they had first dabbled in summoning together. The smooth stone was Pan’s escape when he realized he had been cooped up in Lab 15 far longer than humanly possible. His earlier realization was part of his reason for taking his work out of the Citadel today. Another, significantly larger, factor was that along with the various tools and simple constructs that Cid wanted him to animate, Pan had a few experiments of his own he wanted to test. The wizard would not be pleased if he saw Pan wasting valuable time on personal interests…
But ambition won out prudence in this case. Pandaemus yearned for power and the chance of independence through its pursuit.
Mid-afternoon
Looking over his shoulder, Pan lugged the box hiding the assorted small constructs out of the Citadel. As he stepped out into the summer sun he winced. The Citadel’s high walls, the grey stone tomb within which the Sahovan nuits spent their eternity, had shielded him from the sun for so long he forgot what an experience it was to the senses. The subtle burn against skin was ever more subtle now that the skin that felt it was long dead, but Pan imagined it would feel so much more if he were a man rather than the shambling corpse he was now. He squinted dry eyes in the brilliant light, shielding them with one craggy hand.
“I need a new perching body.” Admitting it to himself was a chilling step. He was still himself, in his original form. He knew his undeath was a path one could not go backwards on, but changing corp -forms, changing forms was a finality he wasn’t sure he was mentally prepared for. He felt torn between the vibrant dance of life and the cold ambitious drive of undeath. Uldr’s hand had always been closed tight over his heart, but now he felt the fist squeezing.
The heat felt good against his corpse-like form. His body almost seemed to loosen, motion smoothed. Perhaps that was just his mind playing tricks on him. He was feeling sensations he had forgotten after so many weeks sitting at his desk in Lab 15 that the liveliness could be attributed to any number of factors. Earlier that day he had come to the startled realization that he had been sitting at his work desk, tucked away in Lab 15 for nearly four weeks and had only moved to speak to Cid or carry out some task. The chilling discovery signified that he was making the transition from human to Nuit in more than a physical way now. Indeed, he had found the prospect of sitting at the dest and simply letting his work consume his every thought appealing. The leap into the dark pit of undeath was blissfully inviting. What else did he have, if not Sahova and its promise of endless labor?
The prospect of eternity at that mangy desk brought a frown to the thin, pasty skin of Pandaemus’ face. He found he had been wandering towards his destination while his mind was occupied. He stood now amongst the tall grass of the Prairie, at a certain stone platform that had been created months prior by Annalisa Marin when they had first dabbled in summoning together. The smooth stone was Pan’s escape when he realized he had been cooped up in Lab 15 far longer than humanly possible. His earlier realization was part of his reason for taking his work out of the Citadel today. Another, significantly larger, factor was that along with the various tools and simple constructs that Cid wanted him to animate, Pan had a few experiments of his own he wanted to test. The wizard would not be pleased if he saw Pan wasting valuable time on personal interests…
But ambition won out prudence in this case. Pandaemus yearned for power and the chance of independence through its pursuit.
