Night 60: North of the Institute
[From here.]
Edgar crossed the wall with relative ease, his hand slipping from the stone as he fell. The snow cushioned his landing, crunching beneath his boots. He had to admit that the military's shoes were preferable for snowy travel to the slippers issued by the institute. Though the chilly wind nipped at his bare face, the fire in his chest kept him warm against the falling temperatures. The cold was soothing, that flame always lapping at him from the inside.
A good night to test out his abilities, then. He surveyed the landscape around him: the rocky terrain, increasingly so as it headed toward the quarry, was hidden by the white that blanketed everything it touched. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing to disturb the stillness. That made it all the more unnerving: there should have been wildlife about, bringing some minor disturbances to the area, but there was nothing at all.
However, no noise also meant there might be no one else around, and given he wasn't sure how his abilities would behave or if he could control them, that was something Edgar had been hoping for. He had barely contained them only one night before- they were suppressed now, but that didn't mean he couldn't lose control. He couldn't risk hurting others; he could only hope his spells would be of some use and that they could be mastered quickly, before he became a slave to the infusion himself. That was not an option.
Trekking from the wall, he chose an area clear enough for his work. It felt so different from the magic he had learned: the words came no easier, but the energy itself dug further into him, teasing his senses as it twisted its way through his body and down to his fingertips. He could already feel changes between the cast from the night prior, the spell taking more energy as he worked his way through the incantation. It would wear on him, but it had to be done.
He could feel his palm sweat as seconds ticked by, his concentration wearing thin. Keeping at it was going to be the key- good thing he had never been one for giving up so easily.
[Rita! Sorry this is way late, man. D:]
Edgar crossed the wall with relative ease, his hand slipping from the stone as he fell. The snow cushioned his landing, crunching beneath his boots. He had to admit that the military's shoes were preferable for snowy travel to the slippers issued by the institute. Though the chilly wind nipped at his bare face, the fire in his chest kept him warm against the falling temperatures. The cold was soothing, that flame always lapping at him from the inside.
A good night to test out his abilities, then. He surveyed the landscape around him: the rocky terrain, increasingly so as it headed toward the quarry, was hidden by the white that blanketed everything it touched. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing to disturb the stillness. That made it all the more unnerving: there should have been wildlife about, bringing some minor disturbances to the area, but there was nothing at all.
However, no noise also meant there might be no one else around, and given he wasn't sure how his abilities would behave or if he could control them, that was something Edgar had been hoping for. He had barely contained them only one night before- they were suppressed now, but that didn't mean he couldn't lose control. He couldn't risk hurting others; he could only hope his spells would be of some use and that they could be mastered quickly, before he became a slave to the infusion himself. That was not an option.
Trekking from the wall, he chose an area clear enough for his work. It felt so different from the magic he had learned: the words came no easier, but the energy itself dug further into him, teasing his senses as it twisted its way through his body and down to his fingertips. He could already feel changes between the cast from the night prior, the spell taking more energy as he worked his way through the incantation. It would wear on him, but it had to be done.
He could feel his palm sweat as seconds ticked by, his concentration wearing thin. Keeping at it was going to be the key- good thing he had never been one for giving up so easily.
[Rita! Sorry this is way late, man. D:]