Academia, Meet Research

[Jonathan Burr]

87th of Ashan

Jon had managed something quite strange in the woods behind Kaelserad. He'd taken an ember from their cooking fire, not knowing how to start a fire himself and having spent too many hours struggling with it. Why would he spend so much time with a stick and moss when he had a perfectly good fire in Kaelserad he could herd onto a brand? It was more difficult than it looked. Getting a flame to survive a semi-panicked walk from the hospital to the woods was no mean feat, and Jon thought the poor fire had died by the time he finally pressed the embers to a pile of moss he'd gathered. Thankfully, he was wrong, and smoke began to curl up. A little gentle blowing, and flame sparked forth. He had carefully gathered kindling, and began to feed these to the baby fire. Slowly, it was growing. Jon felt a grin spreading across his face as he added sticks and smaller chunks of wood. The fire was hungry and he had to feed it. He threw the brand he'd used to transport the ember for good measure.

Good. He'd taken a little firewood as well, and now he had a healthy enough fire to start. He watched it for a moment, making sure the flames were well and truly settled. He didn't need the fire guttering out on him when he needed to concentrate. "You better be ok, because if you die I am not doing the torch run again." he lectured the flames. The fire crackled and shifted in response, crawling onto another piece of wood to chew on. Jon raised an eyebrow and settled down next to it. He'd wanted to learn the quality of fire just as he had stone. He'd learned stone by handling river rocks and slowly absorbing their essence. Their structure. What made them strong. He couldn't exactly handle flames.

Or could he? He wasn't particularly looking forward to the amount of burn cream he'd need if this went wrong. He chewed his lip and extended his ether outwards toward the flames. It was difficult to grasp, immaterial, like wind. He already sensed he couldn't manipulate or corrode it the way he could stone or wood. He also couldn't quite get ahold on the concept of it. It was pure heat and light, burning up from a chemical reaction. He had to touch it. He reached out his hand and swept it briefly through the flames. It gave him more information to be sure; more of the heat, the light, the way fire consumed everything it touched. It was a little frustrating; he couldn't truly work with fire, only know what it was and its embodiment.

Jon frowned and swept his hand through again. He was slower this time, allowing some of the pain from the fire to sink its teeth into his skin. He was learning more and more with each pass of his hand. As long as he moved them quickly enough he didn't burn. He sighed and folded his arms across one another, sweeping his ether over and through the fire. He could feel fire. He could know fire. He could imagine it burning his skin and when he sank his ether into the wood he felt its destructive power. But he couldn't form and shape it like anything else. That part was barred to him.

'Only Defiance mages can truly know fire.'Hob told him.'They have a relationship with the elements much like you and I have. Except theirs are far more fickle than ours. The elements can leave their mages at any time, on a whim, and they have been known to do so. I will never leave you. Not by choice.'

[Victor Amielle]

Almost immediately upon returning to his homeland the Transmuter had heard the stories, of strange noises coming from the forests at night, of lights in the sky and mist creeping up on you from all directions – and of all the animals on a farm dying from a mysterious illness. It reminded him of what he had witnessed on Scalvoris, the island where he had spent the previous arc, and thus he had left his brother’s residence in order to investigate. The Lord of Lysoria, he was sure, would disapprove of his sibling sneaking around in the forest, especially now that tensions between Ne’haer and Lysoria were so high, but Victor had never been one to sit around idly and wait for somebody else to do something. He would solve this riddle – and then go on to change Lysoria itself.

The weather was relatively pleasant, the sky was clear, and there was only a light breeze, a welcome change from the weather in Scalvoris – the island had been troubled by hailstorms, and the temperatures had been below the freezing point for several seasons. Victor found himself enjoying himself, despite all the things that were currently taking place – until he heard the flutter of wings, somewhere in the sky above him. He looked up, just in time to watch his familiar Shay, a falcon that had been gifted to him by the Immortal Delroth himself, land on a branch of a nearby tree. She looked at him from out of dark eyes that were filled with entirely too much intelligence for a mere animal.

A multitude of images began to fill his mind … of a scarred man sitting in front of a fire, staring at it and talking to it, like a madman – or maybe something more. He furrowed his brow as he wondered who he was and why he was there – and whether he had anything to do with all those strange happenings – and then he slowly snuck closer, ready to draw his sword or make use of his chosen magic at a moment's notice – only to stop dead in his tracks. There was something about the stranger’s actions that aroused his curiosity and that suddenly reminded him of something he had once done - even though he had never possessed such a penchant for self-harm.

“If you touch a fire, you’ll get burnt,” he remarked somewhat dryly as he stepped forward, one hand still hovering near the hilt of his sword in case the other man decided to take offence or see him as an enemy. The Blessed of Delroth was dressed in dark clothes that allowed him to better blend in with his surroundings that trial. They were obviously of fine quality – while he wanted to move about unseen as much as possible, he had no desire to appear as a common citizen and subsequently do his chosen Immortal a dishonor. “You can absorb its essence and learn to understand it, but only Defiers and the most skilled of alchemists can attain mastery over it.”

[Jonathan Burr]

Jonathan startled when a voice spoke up behind him. He really had thought Hob would have warned him of such a thing, but from the spirit's amused chuckling in his head he thought it was funny. Jon launched up onto his feet and got the fire between himself and the stranger, who had one hand over his blade. "I think I'm evidence to the contrary." he said, lifting up his unburnt (if a little red and warm) hand. "Who are you? If you're here to rob me I've got nothing for you. I came alone."

Gods boy, look at him!' Hob said sharply.If he were a highwayman not only would he not bother speaking to you, he'd not be dressed like that! Men who rob idiot scribes in the woods don't dress that finely.'

Jon calmed down a bit listening to his Harvester's words. Hob had to be right. This stranger was dressed in clothes much better than his own, and had an ease about him. He was cautious, as anyone should be approaching someone in the woods, but he was confident in himself as well. Jon wasn't about to give up the defense of the fire between them, but he did calm down a little. "How do you know that? About the Defiers?" he asked, examining the stranger. He wasn't quite sure about this. "Are you a mage as well?"

'And breast your cards a bit. There is such a thing as mage hunters.' Hob added.

Jon cleared his throat. "If you're a mage hunter, I warn you. Im a powerful sorcerer and I won't be intimidated by the likes of you." he growled.

'I think a rabbit might have just run for cover.'

Jon tried to draw himself up to his full height. He didn't want to fight but he was a bit nervous being seen practicing his magic. That was why he came into the woods after all, for a little peace and quiet. He was lucky he hadn't been practicing with Hob, though the Harvester might have vanished at the sight of another person.

[Victor Amielle]

“If I wanted to rob somebody”, Victor replied in the same dry tone as before and came a bit closer so that Jon would be able to see him better - but not close enough to be within range of any weapons that the other man might carry with him. “I wouldn’t be sneaking around in the forest where worthwhile victims are rare, but search the streets of Ne’haer itelf. Besides, you don’t look as if you have a lot of money on your person. As for your suspicion that I might be a mage hunter …” he continued, and his lips twisted into a small, amused smile for a moment before his face grew serious again. “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have approached you, but attacked you without a warning to minimize the risk of you trying to fight back.”

“I’m a mage as well. We might even be practicing the same kind of magic, judging by what you tried to do with that fire, although it remains to be seen who of us is really the more powerful”, he spoke. He didn’t particularly care about Jon’s attempt at intimidation. He wasn’t only a mage of some skill, but also quite a competent swordsman, and he had been blessed by an Immortal on top of it. He would be cautious for now – anything else would be foolish, and he was not a fool – but he saw no reason to be afraid.

“Magical theory”, he replied as Jon asked him how he know about the Defiers and shrugged his shoulders, as if there were nothing special about it. “I studied it, on an island far from here. My name is Victor”, he introduced himself in an attempt to appear a little friendlier and diffuse some of the tension. He was confident that he would eventually come out victorious, but he wasn’t particularly interested in a fight. He wanted to find out more about this man – who was a bit older than he had assumed at first, in his thirties rather than his late twenties. “And I’m merely curious about what you were doing. I was investigating the strange happenings in these forests when I noticed the light of your fire”, he claimed, which was quite close to the truth.

“And who might you be?” he asked. There was no reason for Jon to tell him his real name of course, especially considering the circumstances under which they were meeting – Victor himself had decided to only share part of his name for now – but any name would be better than addressing him as “stranger” or something equally impersonal.

[Jonathan Burr]

"Yeah trust me, I have two people talking in my ear on that front." Jon muttered, running his fingers through his hair. Hob and Victor were making the exact same points, and it honestly made him feel a bit foolish. He looked up when Victor mentioned they might be practicing the same magic. He hadn't met anyone with his spark yet. Another Aberrant was something he sorely wanted to talk to, but he sensed Victor wasn't talking about that. He was even more intrigued when Victor mentioned he'd studied magic. There was somewhere he could go to learn? To actually study magic, versus just being taught by tutors? He was immediately intrigued and he dropped his defensiveness. "I'm studying Transmutation. Hob wants me to continue in A...another discipline, but Transmutation is something I can practice alone. The other is more of a team effort. I've learned I can memorize things. Well, certain aspects of things. The way a stone is rough and represents strength...and at the same time, fragility. Fire is something else entirely. I can memorize that it can burn, and that it can hurt, and the heat of it. But I don't get the feeling of what it truly is." He explained.

Jon nodded. "And as you both tell me, only Defiers and alchemists truly understand flame. I think, now that I know that, I'd be better off going back to stone. It's in my blood, anyway." he smirked. "Victor, hm? My name is Jon. And I wasn't aware of any strange happenings in the forest. I practice here quite often."

'Be careful. He might mean the few disappearances that have been our fault.' Hob warned. They had killed a few men around Ne'Haer since they'd bonded. One was a flaying to seal the bond, the others were various animals that Hob had him practicing on. Deer, rabbits, birds. Each one left a strange grey pile of ashes, and in some cases a mark on the ground. Usually such signs were blown away or rained away, but one never knew. Jon slowly walked around the fire and offered his hand to Victor.

"I'm always looking to make friends out of fellow mages. I follow a man who is going to unite all of us, or so he claims." he smirked.

[Victor Amielle]

“Two?“ Victor asked and raised an eyebrow. He briefly took a look around, but he couldn’t see the other person that Jon had mentioned – which meant that they either were a figment of his imagination or that he had a familiar that was hiding somewhere, just like Shay. He decided to believe the latter for now as the other man showed no signs of possible insanity besides that. His speech was coherent, the things that he said made sense, for the most part, and he had even dropped his defensiveness which surprised him somewhat. He hadn’t thought that it would be quite as easy to gain his trust.

“So am I”, he replied as Jon told him that he was studying Transmutation, in case that wasn’t clear yet and finally let go of his sword in order to take a seat next to him, in front of the fire, if he was allowed to do so. His curiosity was even greater than before. He hadn’t met a lot of other Transmuters yet, at least not since he had come to Scalvoris – the woman that he had studied magical theory under had been a Defier. It was a strange, but most welcome coincidence that he had met one now that he had least expected it. He wasn’t quite as worried that Jon might be up to no good anymore – although a small amount of suspicion remained.

“I said that only Defiers and alchemists can attain true mastery over it”, he corrected Jon. The tone of his voice was firm, but friendlier than before. There was something extraordinary about sitting in front of a fire in the middle of the forest with a stranger and discussing the principles behind their shared magic, no matter who that stranger was, where he came from and what his goals ultimately were.

“Transmuters like us will never be able to set anything on fire, but we can gain an intricate understanding of what fire is. In order to do that you need to experience it with all of your senses and not just look at it though. You need to smell it … the odor of smoke that doesn’t really come from the fire itself, but from that which is burning, you need to observe the way that the flame moves in the wind and listen to the crackle, until nothing but the fire exists and it has become your entire world … until everything around you turns red, and it is nearly about to consume you …”

“I appreciate any opportunities to talk to somebody who carries the spark”, he replied as Jon informed him that he was always looking to make friends out of fellow mages. “I spent a lot of time in places where our kind aren’t welcome – where they are even burnt at the stake. It remains to be seen if we really become friends though”, he continued. His friendship was a precious good and he didn’t immediately offer it to any stranger that he came across. It was something that had to be earned.

“I know such a man as well”, he admitted as Jon spoke of the one he was following, recalling his brief meeting with Alistair Venora and how they had fought side by side. “Do you think it can really be done though? Do you think that all the mages can be united?”

[Jonathan Burr]

Jonathan was still listening to Hob. Victor was close enough now, and it made him...strangely comfortable. At this range if he touched him, and drained him, he could gain an advantage if Victor decided to get aggressive at all. It was odd knowing that at any point he could call up a monster that would drain Victor of everything. It was a comforting power. Even with that blade in Victor's hand, was he any match for Hob? Jon smiled gently at Victor, welcoming him next to the fire.

'Don't be too cocksure. I can't save you from everything and he knows how to use that thing. He carries it with too much of an ease.'Hob warned. The Harvester was a careful creature; he wanted Jon to be the same way.

The mage brightened a little when Transmutation was mentioned. "I mean, I guess I figured that since you knew what I was doing with the fire. I haven't gotten very far but...I love what it is. I love creating light in the palm of my hand, and picking up a stone and knowing it." he said excitedly. He turned to face Victor a little more, raising one of his palms. He could focus the ether there, extending himself outward. Feeling his hand, flesh and bone, and igniting all of it with his ether. He felt the hum in his veins, the way the hairs on his arm stood on end for just a moment before the limb began to glow. He grinned at Victor, obviously impressed with himself. He was silenced when the man spoke, the glow in his arm fading as his ears bent to listen to the words. He took everything in. He needed not to just feel the fire, but smell it. Know it. He needed to imagine those delicate little white tongues curling around his form and stealing the wind from his lungs. He needed to smell smoldering wood, the splits and crackles of the flames as they chewed into its food.

He listened, and he smelled, and he looked. He was truly trying to concentrate just in that small gap in the conversation. The scent of the wood smoke, heady and thick. The crackles and pops whenever the heat struck a pocket of sap or split a moisture-ridden seam in the wood. The symphony of crackles radiating up a pine branch as all the needles curled and released oils into the air. One could easily get lost in the dance of light.

Jon glanced at Victor. He could empathize. Mages were hated everywhere. Mages like him, even more so. He bit his lip a little and nodded. "It's been lonely." he said honestly. "I've been learning from another mage but he doesn't share my spark. He's a Rupturer and a Necromancer. He...he tries, but it's not the same. He doesn't speak like you do. As for my other spark..." he looked down and shook his head. "...he says I can't show that to anyone. It's not a question of if we can be united, Victor. We have to be. Do you know what we could accomplish together that no one could accomplish alone?"

Jon's eyes grew a little brighter as he thought of Acadia. Alistair's dream. His dream. "I want to make a place where no mages have to hide their sparks. A place even Necromancers and Aberrants can come and learn from one another. I want to make a place where initiations don't end in deaths because we educate the ones we're aiming to initiate. I want to teach people how to control their impulses, how to use their Sparks to help all the other mages around them. Think of it. I can't master fire. But a Defiance mage could. Together we could make such magic as the world has never seen. A Defiant smelts the metal, I shape it in half the time it would take a master blacksmith. I could...I can...dig irrigation ditches. An Alchemist and myself could fertilize barren earth into the most fertile breadbasket the world has ever seen. Rupturers could make us the most well-connected city on earth. Abrogators and Aberrants could keep us safe. Necromancers could provide work. Graft and Empathy could make us the best place to heal the wounded. Think of it, Victor. Think of all the things we could do if we stopped being frightened." He was speaking feverishly now. Inspired. That flame inside of him to build something wonderful for every man, woman and child who held a spark.

"Victor, I have to do this. I have to make this world better for our people. I mean...my father initiated me into Transmutation. The only reason it was easier for me than for anyone else I can read about is because he was there. He taught me. He guided me and told me exactly what was going to happen. I want every child that wishes to be a mage not to experience that horror of dissolving into nothing." He said. "I want...I want people not to fear Aberration, and for Aberrants not to be so alone. This needs to happen. Otherwise...we're just going to continue to be wanderers."

Jon stood up with a grin. "Come on. You have to admit. All it takes is dreamers. I mean, that's how cities are founded right? People binding together." he gestured to the forest. "All of this around Kaelserad could be places for people to attune their magic. Defiance mages in the rivers and cliffs, Empathizers connecting to every living creature. This is my training ground and it could be for so many others." He was excited, full of inspiration. He was sharing his dream for a united nation of mages with another. He wanted a school. He wanted to be able to teach, and to guide.

'You're blithering.' Hob said snidely. 'Not all mages are going to find your cutesy idea inspiring or good. And Harvesters will never work together. You do not understand, still, how so many of them isolate their mages from everything. From fellow human contact. All that matters is the ether.'

The wind seemed to go out of Jon a bit and he shook his head, rubbing his fingers over his eyes. "Sorry. He's saying I shouldn't get too excited over things like this... I mean...it's...years off." he settled back down next to the fire. "But it's not stupid, is it? That we could bind together, and become the most powerful nation the world has ever seen? That we could stop all the deaths. The burnings. The initiation fatalities. We could stop it. Couldn't we?"

[Victor Amielle]

“There’s more to Transmutation than creating light and studying the quality of stone”, Victor remarked. He took a moment to observe the sphere that Jon had created – its size and how quickly he had created it would give him a better idea of the extent of his abilities – and then he picked up a small branch that was lying on the ground between them, looked at it thoughtfully for a moment and willed the ether into it, quickly and forcefully. At first nothing seemed to happen, but after a while the branch began to turn grey, as wood that had been exposed to the elements for a longer amount of time was sometimes wont to do, it began to soften, as if it were rotting, and in the end, Victor was holding an undefinable brownish mass in his hand. He looked at it with an expression of vague disgust on his face, and then he threw it into the fire in order to burn it.

“With Transmutation you can disintegrate objects and destroy locks and doors so that nobody will be able to keep you imprisoned. You can conjure orbs made of pure force and wound your enemies and create magical objects that are not unlike those of an alchemist, even if they don’t last as long. At a higher level of competency, you can even bend the world around you to your will”, he remarked, eyeing the sphere that Jon had created again. It was not that big, but it was a good start, and he was in a favorable mood that trial and disinclined to criticize the man.

As Jon told him of his mentor, Victor raised an eyebrow and simply looked at him for a moment, considering what he had said. It surprised him that the man was so open about being acquainted with a necromancer – and having a comparatively close relationship with him. In certain places even associating with such people could get you in trouble. “Where I spent the past arc, even the theoretical study of necromancy was forbidden”, he remarked slowly. “That is something that I don’t agree with. In my opinion, you need to familiarize yourself with all kinds of magic if you truly want to understand”, he continued. That didn’t mean that he was fine with necromancy of course – while he would not kill necromancers on sight like so many others, he considered it to be a problematic domain, and he would never engage in such practices himself. Jon didn’t seem to share his opinion though which he found curious.

The man’s attitude towards Necromancy and Aberration was questionable, but his idea of a place where mages could come to study held some appeal, and his excitement was quite infectious. “I almost died during my initiation”, Victor admitted somewhat reluctantly. “A place such as the one you speak of would be … wonderful, but it would also become a target almost immediately. How do you intend to convince the people around you that you do not have any ill intentions?” he wanted to know. What had happened in Rynmere would be nothing compared to what they might do to Jon’s city. In Rynmere the Order of the Mantis had held back to some extent, out of fear that innocents would be caught in the fray, but in a place where only mages lived …

“We might be able to stop the burnings and keep the initiates from dying”, he agreed – because a part of him wanted it to work out, despite everything. “If we go about it the right way, if we work together, and if there are no disagreements between us. It won’t be easy though. Most people hate us, and those that don’t hate us are suspicious of us.”

“He?” he then asked. “Your familiar?” He paused, furrowing his brow as he remembered something that Jon had said. He had not thought much of it at first. “You are an Aberrant, aren’t you? That is your second magic. Only a man who is an Aberrant himself and knows what it’s like would want Aberrants not to be feared.” He raised a hand, signaling Jon that he ought to be quiet and spoke, “I have no intention to attack you if this is the case. I don’t care who and what you are as long as you don’t use your magic against me.”

“Are you an Aberrant?”

[Jonathan Burr]

Jonathan watched the stick that Victor corroded. It was such a different style to his own. He smiled and nodded. "Corrosion, but I see you use it so differently than myself. I use it to create." he said simply. "It's...less an over-arching thing, and more targeted. If I were to corrode only a little of that stick, I could break it in half and have two. I could weaken stone to break it open, or shape it by making bits and portions of it weaker than the rest of it. It's my belief that with more time you could turn Corrosion into pure artistry, depending on what extent you used it and how much. Is that what you can do? Imbue objects? Change the world around you?" He was excited now. He'd never seen where Transmutation could take him. He'd only seen people less skilled, or in the case of his father those who restrained their gifts to keep them undiscovered. To see a master Transmuter in action would be truly incredible.

Victor excited him even more with his talk of necromancy. "Exactly!" Jon chuckled. "People are so afraid of the so-called evil magics that they haven't bothered to learn some of it. I mean, to make a judgement on something you have to learn at least a little piece of it right? Otherwise how can you call yourself fair? I mean, one could chat all day long about the morality of enslaving the dead but no one ever thinks to get a mage's opinion on the matter. I think necromancy could be a good thing, or it could be an evil thing. After all even Revenants seem capable of walking and speech, and even retain a little of their personality. I know; none of the ones I've met will let me study them. They're awfully shy about that sort of thing." Jon had a few problems with necromancy. It seemed to operate on slavery, and even though it was slavery of men who were no longer living it felt wrong that Alistair could order them to and fro without any regard. He wasn't sure his mate had a lot of respect for them, either.

Jon nodded, sobering himself a little at Victor's admittance. "Both of mine were incredibly nightmarish." he said in agreement. "That's why we need to teach people. I think...we could give them the tools to be prepared. I mean, you don't get thrown out of your house the second you can walk. You learn from people older and experienced for a while. I think we can prove to the people we don't mean any harm. Our gifts can be used to help the struggling settlements. I think a single alchemist enriching the soil for farmers would draw leagues of people to us alone. If we purified water, healed the sick, cleared out bandits and repaired things...maybe we could show people how useful we are. I know people hate mages but...actions speak louder than any speeches." He also thought of Rynmere. He wanted to ensure such things didn't happen again. He wanted to protect his people, now that he had found a place amongst them. He was as patriotic a man as he could be if magic were his standard.

His knee jerk reaction at Tristan's accusation was to run. The man said he wouldn't harm him, and so far most people he'd told hadn't. He stood a little further away from Tristan, and nodded. He wasn't sure how to approach this. "Yes. And I won't hurt you either, for the record. I only kill criminals. It's not like I want Aberrants to be welcomed unquestioningly but...we don't deserve to be killed outright. Our Harvesters are a gift, not a curse."





"Talkin"

[Victor Amielle]

“I have a different approach to Transmutation”, Victor admitted and looked at the fire where the corroded piece of wood burnt, enjoying the warmth that came from it. He had spent the past couple of seasons in the far north, and he’d thought that he would never stop freezing. “I use it to destroy, to open locks and doors that would otherwise be closed to me, to provide me with light in the darkness, to create magical items – and to identify the things around me. As I told you, I studied magical theory. But more than that, I’m a researcher, an explorer. I’ve spent most of my adulthood travelling the world of Idalos and investigating supernatural phenomena. Transmutation is one of the most useful domains in that regard.”

“You’ve actually met a Revenant?” he asked, unable to hide his surprise entirely in spite of how that might make him look. There was something about Jon that he found at least mildly disconcerting, but another part of him quite enjoyed talking to him about all those things that were forbidden. His professors in Scalvoris had been unable to answer his questions – or unwilling to do so. They nearly basked in their ignorance and considered themselves to be morally superior because of it, which was something that he didn’t understand. The mere theoretical knowledge of Necromancy and Aberration was not a bad thing. “I only met the undead once, in a graveyard on the same island where I undertook my studies. It was a strange night. All the dead came to life within the blink of an eye”, he spoke as he remembered what had happened in Almund.

It had been one of the most unusual events that he had witnessed so far, and one that had left him fascinated as well as slightly shaken. He had acquired a couple of magical items that night, treasures that had been in the undead’s possession, one of which he had gifted to Delroth who had then proceeded to bestow his blessing on him, but he would not tell a stranger about the bond that he shared with the Immortal of Greed, at least not at the moment. He was not as willing to share personal information as the other man.

“Perhaps”, Victor agreed. “Perhaps people would change their mind if we helped them. Hatred is frequently born of ignorance. People hate and fear what they don’t understand.” He wanted to say more, but it was just then that Jon confirmed that he was indeed an Aberrant, and the Blessed of Delroth looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments before he nodded curtly. His heart was starting to beat a little faster, and he found that he struggled somewhat to keep an open mind, as he had intended to. Talking about Aberration, and actually facing an Aberrant were two completely different things, he realized. While every mage felt the hunger of the spark, most tried to resist it to some extent. Aberrants on the other hand gave in to it. But then again, Jon had claimed that he only killed criminals – people that deserved to die, in his opinion - besides this meeting provided a unique opportunity that he just couldn’t pass up.

“Show me”, he slowly said. “Show me your Harvester.”