Ymiden 17, Arc 720
The son of Ziell awoke to the first rays of the early morning sun falling through the windows of his bedroom in the Obsidian Prism. For a moment, he simply lay there, under the silken covers, somewhat reluctant to get up and start the trial, before he let out a soft sigh and stood in order to put on the black and silver dressing gown that he had draped across the back of a chair the evening before. As he got dressed, he could not help but glance at the crimson marking on his chest, above where his heart was located, his witchmark that matched the lines on the back of his hands, one of his awakenings.
He traced its outline with the index finger of his right hand somewhat thoughtfully, furrowing his brow almost imperceptibly. It had been two cycles since he had received it, two cycles since his initiation and since Llyr had stepped into his life so unexpectedly. He had not gained any new mutations since then. He knew that he would eventually change more if he used his magic more and more extensively. It was inevitable (Not that he minded. He accepted his mutations; besides, his life had improved considerably since he had become a mage).
He couldn’t help but wonder when and how exactly he would change though. Would he realize that he was about to receive his next awakening, or would he just wake up one morning only to discover that something was different? He remembered what Balthazar and Llyr had told him about their own mutations, but was it the same for everyone? And could mutations be directed or were they completely random? He remembered that Llyr and he had theorized that he had gained some resistance to fire because he had drunk a hot drink shortly after he had been initiated, that night in Vhalar.
Would he gain mutations that were related to science next, or would he wake up with wings and insect-like appendages, like Llyr, one trial? Did mentor and initiate ever gain similar awakenings? Did their sparks have anything in common, apart from the fact that they were both Transmutation sparks? He had spent most of the time working on his newest research project pertaining to the use of racial blood in alchemy recently … it would make sense if that had some kind of effect …
He abruptly pulled his gaze away from his mutations as there was no point in thinking about that particular topic any further at the moment and opened the door in order to step his way into the hallway and make his way into the kitchen where his mortal cook, Elias, had already prepared breakfast for him. He could already smell the delicious, freshly brewed coffee from afar. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it. It made his mouth water slightly.
His spark had not only changed his skin, but also affected his food preferences (which surprised him slightly sometimes; he seemed to mutate more than most people – was it a side effect of his divine blood? That seemed to be the most logical explanation in his opinion as he didn’t think that there was anything unusual about the way that he used his magic; on the contrary, he had been exceptionally careful so far in order to avoid overstepping).
Perhaps, he thought, as he sat down at the table and waited for the mortal to serve him, he would continue his magical research that afternoon, when he returned from the Academy. He wanted to understand how exactly everything worked (just waiting for something to happen was not acceptable in his opinion); besides, there were a few spells that he had familiarized himself with yet (although he had been affected by one of them during his initiation).
The son of Ziell awoke to the first rays of the early morning sun falling through the windows of his bedroom in the Obsidian Prism. For a moment, he simply lay there, under the silken covers, somewhat reluctant to get up and start the trial, before he let out a soft sigh and stood in order to put on the black and silver dressing gown that he had draped across the back of a chair the evening before. As he got dressed, he could not help but glance at the crimson marking on his chest, above where his heart was located, his witchmark that matched the lines on the back of his hands, one of his awakenings.
He traced its outline with the index finger of his right hand somewhat thoughtfully, furrowing his brow almost imperceptibly. It had been two cycles since he had received it, two cycles since his initiation and since Llyr had stepped into his life so unexpectedly. He had not gained any new mutations since then. He knew that he would eventually change more if he used his magic more and more extensively. It was inevitable (Not that he minded. He accepted his mutations; besides, his life had improved considerably since he had become a mage).
He couldn’t help but wonder when and how exactly he would change though. Would he realize that he was about to receive his next awakening, or would he just wake up one morning only to discover that something was different? He remembered what Balthazar and Llyr had told him about their own mutations, but was it the same for everyone? And could mutations be directed or were they completely random? He remembered that Llyr and he had theorized that he had gained some resistance to fire because he had drunk a hot drink shortly after he had been initiated, that night in Vhalar.
Would he gain mutations that were related to science next, or would he wake up with wings and insect-like appendages, like Llyr, one trial? Did mentor and initiate ever gain similar awakenings? Did their sparks have anything in common, apart from the fact that they were both Transmutation sparks? He had spent most of the time working on his newest research project pertaining to the use of racial blood in alchemy recently … it would make sense if that had some kind of effect …
He abruptly pulled his gaze away from his mutations as there was no point in thinking about that particular topic any further at the moment and opened the door in order to step his way into the hallway and make his way into the kitchen where his mortal cook, Elias, had already prepared breakfast for him. He could already smell the delicious, freshly brewed coffee from afar. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it. It made his mouth water slightly.
His spark had not only changed his skin, but also affected his food preferences (which surprised him slightly sometimes; he seemed to mutate more than most people – was it a side effect of his divine blood? That seemed to be the most logical explanation in his opinion as he didn’t think that there was anything unusual about the way that he used his magic; on the contrary, he had been exceptionally careful so far in order to avoid overstepping).
Perhaps, he thought, as he sat down at the table and waited for the mortal to serve him, he would continue his magical research that afternoon, when he returned from the Academy. He wanted to understand how exactly everything worked (just waiting for something to happen was not acceptable in his opinion); besides, there were a few spells that he had familiarized himself with yet (although he had been affected by one of them during his initiation).
All good in the hood, dude, nothing to critique. I enjoyed the comparison between Kas' more rough-hewn style and Doran's more scholarly methods. Gotta have them meet up some day.