Common Misconception

by **Mienskil Ostovik** on February 1st, 2013, 9:30 pm

Prequel :

13th of Winter, 512 AV
Gug Andjak, Common Lab 21A

“Who do you think you are?”

The rude question came from a sour-faced undead person of a race Mienskil had yet to find the name of. Pale cheeks were drooping and the eyes were sunken to nearly black pits, and several tears in his skin were beginning to widen. His dead nature was beginning to show in earnest, and the human wondered what these beings did when that happened. Did they stitch themselves up somehow, maybe in some way feeding off djed to repair themselves? Or did they somehow attain a new body altogether? Whatever and however it was done, this wizard needed to do it soon, or risk having his face fall right off.

“I’m just a wizard working out of Lab 37B,” Mienskil said, his tone uplifting as if he were requesting something, which he was. “But I’m a Magecrafter, so-“

“Yeah, so you said,” came the rude retort, the undead’s face pulling up into a grotesque sneer that seemed to strain the skin even more. “I don’t believe you though. Only nuits are on the magecrafting team, and they’re all locked up in some cupboard or something doing their own work. There’s no way they’d let a pulser join them anyway.”

This man’s attitude was really getting on Mienskil’s nerves. Earlier he’d been looking around for reagents to use in his magecrafting, and some apprentices down in Workshop 37A pointed him up here, saying that there were some animals that they thought might be useful in some way. Having never tried the remains of a living animal for a reagent, Mienskil was interested enough to hurry up the Gug Andjak and come straight here, only to have his progress barred by a single man who couldn’t be bothered to share. And now he was having insults hurled at him for no apparent reason, which only doubly frustrated him.

“Like I said, I’m not with those Magecrafters yet,” Mienskil repeated for the umpteenth time. “I’m working independently for now, testing out various reagents, and I just thought I could have one of those many types of fish you have for testing.”

“These fish are for the research of the wizards of Sahova,” the undead – nuit – said haughtily, crossing his arms and tilting his head to look down on Mienskil, which was hard considering the human was an inch or two taller.

“But I am a wizard of Sahova…” Mienskil repeated, though it was clear that no matter how many times he said that this nuit would never accept that fact. It was infuriating to have a whole wealth of reagents and potential knowledge just within grasp, yet be blocked by a single uncooperative man, a nuit who seemed supremely bothered by the fact he was alive. So what? He could work just as hard as the rest, and it looked as if he could pull his own weight around here. He wasn’t belly-aching for food, and this was the one thing he had to ask for compared to all the things he could give this place. That, and he felt a little bit entitled since the Archwizard had said that the citadel was open to him. It was just one fish though!

Just then, a message was announced from behind the nuit, who cocked his ear to listen. Something about a meeting with some wizards somewhere, Mienskil wasn’t paying too much attention, but the undead scowled and turned back to the apprentices working in the lab. “Keep working you lot!” he yelled, before turning back to the magecrafter. “The answer is no, pulser. If you want one of these fish, come back with a wizard.” With that, he rushed out, and the human didn’t bother to correct him as he sped away.

Looking back into the lab, Mienskil could see the beginning of a short row of tanks leading around the corner, filled with all sorts of dangerous-looking aquatic life. The space between the nearest tank and the entrance was cluttered with worktables filled with random tools and items. Apprentices worked hard at each and every one, dissecting retrieved animals and making observations to each other, some seemed to be using glyphed mirrors to magnify their auras and read those, others were comparing remains of various fish. It was bustling with activity, quite different to Lab 37B where it was just Mienskil working. Not that he envied their work; he was always more of an independent student anyways, and there was nothing he loved more than magecrafting.

About to turn around and head back to his lab to think of another plan, he saw one of the apprentices approaching him cradling what seemed to be the corpse of a fish, about the length of Mienskil’s forearm and about three to four times the thickness. One hand grasped a sheet of paper, probably details on the fish itself and what it was. It was a pulser, and he did not smile the entire time, but when he stopped in front of the magecrafter he handed him the remains and paper. “Maser Yulos won’t notice it’s missing,” he explained. “This one had its aura examined during various stages of dissection, so it was ust going to waste anyway. The cuts are still there, so if you’re after a particular organ then you can easily pull it out.”

Treating the corpse with care, Mienskil eased it into his own arms where he cradled it to prevent it from falling, holding onto the paper with a firm grasp. It reeked of dead fish, but then again he lived near the docks of Zeltiva. He was used to it. “Thank you, erm…”

“Apprentice Henry Gubau,” the pulser offered, his face tired and weary as ever, far too exhausted to smile. All the living here were generally in poor shape, having only one meal a day and growing weaker from malnourishment. Mienskil wasn’t feeling the effects yet – after all he raised himself on as little as he could spare to eat – but he had no doubt that if he stuck around here long he’d end up brittle like these pulsers. Something should be done, maybe something that helped them hunt or fish for extra nourishment? Was worth keeping in mind.

“Well, Henry,” the Magecrafter said smiling, “thanks for this. If you’re ever by the lower levels of the Gug Andjak sometime, come find me in Lab 37B. I’ll be happy to teach you a few things, or give you something if I have an expendable item.”

“Much appreciated sir,” Henry replied before leaning in. “The nuit treat all pulsers like apprentices, even if they’re apprentices themselves. The dead don’t much care for the living. But you’re a step forward Magecrafter, you’re a wizard like the rest of them. Just keep working and impressing the higher ups, and things will turn around. Not just for you, but for all of us.”

Mienskil looked out across the hall of apprentices, and noticed a few that quickly turned away when they saw him looking up. Almost all were pulsers, and none looked to be in too good a shape. It was a natural side effect of being here in Sahova, but here of all places they should have the resources to do about it. He would keep Henry’s words in mind as he nodded to the apprentice, turning and leaving back down the Gug Andjak.