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Post by Noa on Jan 25, 2023 23:08:38 GMT -6
Noa was falling behind. It was a lot of things -- research, unexpected interruptions, dwindling resources that he increasingly had to manage, and manage carefully. And through it all, of course, his slowly failing health. He had known it was coming, had watched his parents slowly succumb to their conditions, but none of that quite prepared him for being in the thick of it, not knowing whether he would be able to rely on his wretched body to do what it had done, for years, without protest. To do, sometimes, even the most basic things. Which was why he was here, again, at the altar. It had been summer when he had last come, a year and a half ago now. He hadn't meant to stay away for so long, but he hadn't had the means to make the trip again until now. Pure crystals were, after all, expensive and hard to find. 1
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Post by Noa on Jan 25, 2023 23:12:27 GMT -6
Rhys was, as ever, the customary weight on his shoulder. He was more necessary these days than he had been years prior, when Noa could count on longer bouts of physical stability. It was the unpredictability of his flare-ups that made them so unpleasant. If they were cyclical, occurring on scheduled intervals, at least he would be able to plan around them and cope.
But no, there was nothing for it but to find the cure. And he would need more magic to do it.
He had elected to teleport here, knowing that the stairs would tire him out on the way up. He could, he supposed, have teleported up to the top, but as irreverent as he was about most things, he was wary of using magic on the premises of the altar itself. It wasn't out of some sense of respect for the sacred, but rather, a healthy caution towards potential consequences.
2
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Post by Noa on Jan 25, 2023 23:16:41 GMT -6
In a place of such potent magic, one wasn't always able to predict what might happen with one's spells. And he had enough problems without actively courting a magical mishap.
... Still, why did they make the thing so damned tall?
Twice on the ascent, he had to stop to catch his breath. Rhys quietly radiated healing energy, which helped to a point, but part of the reason his research was so important was because there was a limit to what that kind of thing could do. If a creature's abilities, or for that matter an existing spell could excise his condition, Noa would be cured already. It wasn't as if his family didn't have the money to pay.
But eventually he did reach the top, at which point he could finally get on with the important parts: laying his crystals out on the bloody altar, swallowing down the dried berries, and cutting himself open with the knife.
3
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Post by Noa on Jan 25, 2023 23:21:20 GMT -6
Rhys winced as Noa made the cut -- deep now, less precise than what he used to do, but the blood welled forth freely. It wasn't just a drop that touched each crystal, or a thin stream; red poured down his arm, trailing messily over the crystals, pooling in fresh red puddles on the coppery-brown surface of the altar. "Rhys," Noa said. The Faeron was all too happy to send out another warm wave of healing energy, sealing the wound shut beneath new unblemished skin.
Kneeling before the altar, he thought back to the last time he was here. What absurd, idealistic thoughts had he been entertaining then? What breakthroughs had he been anticipating? All of it had been for naught, for a year and a half of stymied efforts and endless frustration. What was one node? Barely anything. Barely enough for a smattering of little, ineffectual spells. Not nearly enough for this.
4
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Post by Noa on Jan 25, 2023 23:27:19 GMT -6
If he just had more power, more mana, more to work with... But it was so expensive, and it took so much time. He didn't have that kind of time. If he didn't make some breakthrough soon, there wouldn't be anything left of him.
It was hard, therefore, to think of a prayer -- or at least one that a god might accept, anyway. In the end, the only thing he could pray for was to live. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? That was what it was all for. The rest of it -- what he liked, what he wanted to do, what meaning it all had -- that could come later. If he could just find his cure, he could figure it out.
He felt the faint brush of Rhys's thoughts against his own, and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He prayed, wearily, for success and good health, though if he found either, he was sure it would only be because he had carved it out for himself.
5
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Post by NPC on Feb 1, 2023 18:09:52 GMT -6
Node creation: success! Cooldown period ends on January 25, 2024
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