| Present day Ortal's home, The Spires As soon as the rolled up parchment was placed down, the writer returned to his seat and picked up another parchment. It seemed that he was focused, devoted and eager to write. The quill dipped into the ink with a flair of someone who's been doing this for a long time. The familiar scratching and scribbling sound of quill-on-parchment filled the writer's ears as he started noting down his thoughts and memories, before they faded away forever. |
| Summer, 53th, Year 464 The Undrykas wasn't doing so well. Another beating last night had cracked one of his ribs and he hadn't slept very much due to the pain. Because of this, he showed up tired and broken on duty the next day, which warranted him another beating. Master Taren Alter had started to slow down on the beating, for some reason. Probably because he was getting bored of his latest toy. However, instead of directly attacking him, he had devised a much more deadly game. Whenever one of the apprentices had finished an item, he would randomly select an apprentice to test it out. The pulsers, however, seemed to be favored for this, as always. The choice was made through a name draw from a jar that the master had prepared during some point in time. Most of the apprentices suspected that the names of the pulsers were more frequently written down the nuit apprentices. Today was such a day. The Undrykas' name had been pulled out. Ortal Drykas the piece of paper said. Without a word, he was handed the malediction item by the apprentice. On one side, this was a dangerous task, testing unknown objects for their effects. On the other side, the Undrykas used this time to observe and inspect the circles and what the apprentice had carved or painted inside of it. He took the item from the other apprentice and looked at it. It seemed to be a jaw of some creature. A long row of razor sharp teeth protruded from the top as the Undrykas held it from the bottom. The circles were on both ends of the jaw. He observed them as he waited for the effects to start. Inside the circle, there was a creature painted with big hands and large claws. It's jaw was open and it seemed to be screaming or howling. The jaw was formed like that of a wolf, yet the entire frame of the creature seemed to be more humanoid. The same image was carved, not painted, on the other side, mirrored. After some moments of nothing happening, he looked up at the other apprentice and around the room. There was no difference, nothing had changed. With a look to his hands he realized there was nothing different there either. "Grawargawl!" It doesn't seem like anything is happening, that's what the Undrykas tried to say. But his voice sounded like a wolf or a bear growling and snarling at something. "WarggrawRawr?!" It hurt his voice to speak, the raw sound scraping his throat every time he spoke. He tried to clear his throat but didn't attempt to speak again. It was obvious what the effect of the item was. And it was probably a failure as well. Who would want an item that turned your voice into a painful wolf growling? Tilting his head, the Undrykas handed the item back to the apprentice, who made sure to not touch it too long. "Hello? Ah, much be-" His voice had returned, at least. So the effect wasn't permanent. But he was cut off. Incredible pain mixed with the pain in his ribs and spread upwards to his hair. It felt like the master was kicking him in the ribs all over again while pulling on his hair. The strain on his hair was like he was hanging from it. The pain spread over his body. The same strain pulling on his fingers as well, the same pain. He screamed, a hollow sound, as tears jumped to his eyes. It had been a long time since he had last shed tears over pain. But the sudden explosion of it had caught him by surprise. Suddenly, the whole laboratory was looking at him as he collapsed to his knees, curling up into a ball, clutching at his chest in pain, screaming in pain. That was the last thing the Undrykas would remember of the next days. Summer, 56th, Year 464 The darkness finally made way for a slightly lighter black as he managed to open his eyes a little. Where was he? What had happened? It felt soft underneath him, so someone must have moved him from his spot on the ground. That was the last thing he remembered. The pain. He breathed in deeply. There was no more pain, just discomfort. Slowly, he pushed himself up. He had rested enough. The Undrykas couldn't tell how he knew. He just felt rested. In the dim light, he recognized his own room. Somebody had carried him back here, probably a golem as the Nuit were not known for their hospitality and worry over pulsers dying on the job. The feeling of relief surged over the Undrykas as he noticed he could still feel his toes, feet, legs, fingers, hands and arms. Everything was still attached. Carefully, he patted himself down, trying to find any borken bones or bruises or other wounds. There was nothing. His body seemed to be in quite a good shape, actually. He felt more alive than before. It was only at the end that he noticed some changes. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him. No pain anywhere, everything felt fine and supple yet strong at the same time. Except for his hands. He observed them in the dim light, turning them around to see better the changes that had happened. His fingers were bent. He couldn't stretch them anymore. They simply wouldn't move past a certain point as he tried to stretch them out. When he pulled on his fingers with his other hand, they did move past that point but as soon as he released them they moved back to their semi curled up state. His fingers seemed to be in a constant state of holding a thick bone or leg. No matter how much he tried to will his fingers to stretch out to their maximum potential they simply wouldn't. A little flexing and moving them around told the Undrykas that his fingers hadn't lost any of their use. They just couldn't stretch anymore. It was a strange experience, to have your fingers lose part of their mobility. There was no time for the Undrykas to get properly used to things. As soon as he was up, there was a golem at his door, calling for him that the master needed him. The Undrykas quickly got dressed, changing into a clean outfit and headed out. The lab was still going through the same motions, people left and right working and researching and the master at the head table, doing his projects. On the table in front of the master, the Undrykas could see long strands of hair, tied together in a knot. Next to it were a set of long nails, slightly curled. He recognized the color of the hair but his hair had only been about a fifth of the length when he had tried out the malediction talisman. "Another failed experiment. Pulser, clean your mess up." There were no beatings, no insults, nothing. Just a command. The sheer difference with how he usually was treated threw the Undrykas off balance. Without a second thought he started to clear up the table as the master left the room, followed by almost all of his nuit apprentices. The Undrykas had learned that this was connected to something called the reaquintening. It had something to do with a nuit gaining a new body. Virtually alone in the lab, aside from a golem, the Undrykas collected the large amount of hair from the table, curious about it's origins, and threw it in the bin next to the table, followed by the nails. They were really long, about the same length as the Undrykas' fingers. He then started to remove the tools, as usual, putting them aside in order to brush away the rest of the bone shavings and chips. He worked quickly, much quicker than he would have if people had been around. The faster he finished, the more time he could use to practice. He replaced the tools once more, ordering them from thickness of the blade. The rest of the tools followed after. As soon as he was done, he moved to one of the apprentice tables in a corner of the lab and set himself to work. Even though his fingers had undergone the change, he hardly noticed it, since they were almost constantly wrapped around a tool of some sort, or a broomstick. At the apprentice table, the Undrykas sat himself down and set to work. There were always leftover pieces of bone and animal lying around, which the other apprentices discarded as useless. Picking up such a bone, thicker than his arm and about the length of his forearm, he placed it on the table. The tools slipped quickly into his hands as he set to work. The circle shape was carved out quickly, thanks to the practice he had set himself to during his time here so far. The carving knife moved through the bone, chipping and shaving away parts of it to create a circle shape. It wasn't perfect yet, but that would be for the future, for when he had time and a space of his own to focus on the details. For now, things were rushed and he tried to get as much practice in as possible, trying to grasp at better skills and better designs. His fingers held onto the knife as he connected the circle with itself, creating the pattern. Blowing at the cut out shape he emptied it of the bits and pieces of bone that were left inside. He had tried telling a story through an image before but that had only been on a practice skull, no real malediction attempt. He decided to try something different. Effects could also be drawn out through words or paint, instead of carving out an image. He had seen some of the apprentices and the master do it, simply writing the word they wanted from the bone. With his limited skill and knowledge of bones, he knew that thick bones were from heavy, durable monsters, usually strong as well. So, in another attempt to create the Malediction circle he had imagined the first time, the Undrykas worked in the circle. With the blade he started carving at the bone, his nose almost touching against it as he worked on such a small scale. He moved from the starting point slightly up and to the left and then down. When he reached the same height again he moved down and to the right, to a point in the middle, from there he went further down and stopped for a moment to wipe away the bead of sweap threatening to mess with his vision. The work was difficult and details were important. If a letter was spelled wrong, the entire attempt could fail. The carving knife moved over the already cut out shape, finishing it off with small additions, making the letter more round. He continued with the letter from where he had left off. Moving down and to the left again, he reached the middle once more and started moving up again. He finished off the rest of the carved letter, rounding it off to make it smoother. Blinking and rubbing his forehead and brow with the back of his hand to get the sweat away, he leaned back and observed the first letter he had carved in the circle. The 'S' seemed a little edgy but was clearly carved out. The next letter was much easier and his hands quickly finished it. A straight line from left to right was quickly carved out as there were no bends, no corners, nothing. From the middle he carved another straight line down, a little longer than the first one, finishing just as quickly. The Undrykas looked at the circle and the letters he had formed already. 'ST' stood out quite clearly from the circle. The rest of the letters would soon follow. The Undrykas had no idea how long he had been working but the lab was still empty, even the golem had left, so he set back to work. Once more he wiped at his face, getting rid of more annoying beads of sweat as they ran down his face. The thrid letter was trickier. The 'R' had two straight lines, which were easy to carve, but the half circle, on such a small scale, might prove to be the downfall of this little project. But the Undrykas didn't stop or quit. He continued. If the item failed, he would still get the practice out of it. He wasn't trying to create anything working anyway. His nose pushed against the bone as he leaned in, carving away at the surface in the circle. The straight line went in easy, the chips of bone jumping aside for his carving knife. From the top of the line he started the half circle. As he carved and cut, his entire body seemed to turn to the right, following the motion of the letter. He connected the half circle again to the straight line, a succesful attempt according to the young man. The last line was straight as well and added quickly. With three out of the eight letters complete, the Undrykas kept working on his item. 'STR' was only the beginning, after all. He blew on the bone, getting rid of the bone dust that was inside of the carved lines and letters. He set the blade against the bone once more and continued with his work. He had no idea how much time passed as he worked but the light never changed. As soon as the candles threatened to die out, a golem entered the room, oblivious to any presence, either nuit or pulser, and replaced the candles with new ones. The Undrykas wondered how many tons of candles were used up here each day. If he ever got his own lab in this place, which he hoped he would, some day, he would make sure to get one with windows. His limited exposure to sunlight was starting to bother the young Drykas. They weren't used to being inside for so long and even the Undrykas had felt the pull of sunlight at times. During his time in Zeltiva, the pull had been only minor, drawing him outside during the breaks. But here, in this total stone structure, cut off from everything outside, he had to really get out of his way to get some proper light. The nuit didn't need nor want it, but for the pulsers it was necessary. The Undrykas focused on the task ahead, finishing of the letter. Another blow of air towards the bone, getting rid of the bone dust that inevitably came from scraping and cutting into bone. 'STRENG' was carved proudly in the circle. The 'G' had been the hardest letter so far, only slightly harder than the 'R'. Only two more letters to go. The 'T' was quickly carved, the two straight lines appearing almost out of thin air as the Undrykas cut into the bone and removed the unwanted pieces. His fingers were hurting from applying constant pressure on the thin edge of the carving knife and he often had to stop now, stretching his fingers, as far as his new condition allowed him, and flexing them. He wiggled them in turn to relax them and make sure they weren't stuck or anything. The sweat was now dripping down his forehead like a waterfall. The closer he got to the end, the more nervous he got. There was no way to save his creation so far in case he made a mistake now. A slip of the knife and it would all be over. The bone gave way to the sharp metal edge in his hand as he continued on. It would take him some time more before he would finish the last letter. Although the 'H' letter was three straight lines only, the Undrykas' hands were beginning to shake, from exertion and not wanting to mess up now. The pressure was starting to get to him and, frustrated at himself, he dropped the knife onto the table. "Blah!" He shook his hands, relaxing his wrists, and stretched out. The constant sitting hunched over the bone was starting to hurt his back as well. His hands where high above his head as he stood up, stretching his entire body. For a moment he envied the nuit and their inability to feel any of these problems anymore. But the downside to it was that they didn't feel any of those problems anymore. So the Undrykas was happy with being an outcast pulser. Wiping the sweat on his face off on his sleeves before setting back to work, the Undrykas banned the nuit thoughts out of his mind. He would remain a pulser until the end, stupid undeads. The Undrykas sat down again and took up the knife one last time to finish the 'H'. The large bone was lying on the table, finished. The word in the circle looked up to the Undrykas, who was proud of his work. STRENGTH. He hoped it would provide him with it. With malediction you never knew. He looked at his curled fingers. With his job done, he only had to remove the evidence. Grabbing the thick bone with his right hand, the Undrykas quickly headed off towards the door of the lab. If he threw the bone out before the master returned then nobody would ever know. He could just claim to be cleaning up if anyone stopped him. He opened the door and stepped outside. The impact of a cold fist on his nose caused it to crack loudly as he was thrown backwards into the lab. He recognized the fist and the cold as that of the master. He lost his balance and smacked onto the cold floor of the lab. What had warranted this, the Undrykas didn't know and he simply took it. Very unwizard like, master Taren Alter was stomping on his apprentice, taking out something, he was screaming about it, in languages the Undrykas didn't understand. Maybe he hadn't liked the beverage offered at the reaquaintance. There was no reaction to the stomping, no reaction to the pain. The Undrykas only made limited effort to protect himself, knowing that it would only lead to more punishment. A kick to the side of his face, knocked his head in the other direction, smacking his cheek on the cold stone. He spit the blood out, onto his hand and the bone that it was holding. From one kick to the other, the pain seemed to lessen even more, almost to the effect of being shoved over and over, rather than being kicked. The Undrykas' brain didn't even realize it as the pain almost completely disappeared. He looked up at the master, staring him right in the eyes, taunting him from the floor. In a fit of rage, the master lost control. His foot rained down on the young man, who only acted like he was defending himself. There was barely any pain anymore, just the registration of being kicked. It wasn't that he didn't feel anymore, but more like the kicks of the master had lost all power. His arms were around his head, covering it from possible catastrophic damage. He didn't register the time, nor the amount of kicks but they slowed down and ended. He peeked through his defence and saw the master standing over him, his hair hanging over his eyes, the fire burning in them. Somehow he felt victorious. The master seemed not very nuit like at the moment. He was raging and placed another kick right on the head of the Undrykas who barely registered it. Nothing hurt anymore. Had he truly gone so far? The Undrykas stared at the bone in his hand. The safety of his room kept him from prying eyes. His cheek and head were throbbing slightly but that was all that remained from the beating. His nose had stopped bleeding and so had the wound in his mouth. Was he really becoming so dulled to everything around him that even the barrage of kicks from master Taren Alter had turned into nothing more than annoying pushes on his body? Was the island already turning him into a nuit? The Undrykas was unsure of himself, felt lost and needed someone to talk to. But there had never been anyone to talk to so the Undrykas did what he always had done. The hate and anger towards his master, the pain from his master, the loneliness, the questions. They were all pushed away, locked deep inside the young man. Like in so many things, the Undrykas was the exception in having feelings and emotions. |
| Present day Ortal's home, The Spires The quill drops to the desk, slipped from the shaking hands of the writer. The hands wrap around each other, trying to stop the shaking, trying to contain the burst of memories. The eyes of the writer cloud up, blurring the hands and desk in front of him. The tears quickly roll down his old and wrinkled cheeks, dripping onto the parchment. A stiffled cry of pain slips through his lips as the writer sinks back in his chair, overwhelmed by emotions and memories. The parchment lies forgotten on the writing desk, the quill dripping ink onto the wooden surface of the desk. |
