Граф Орлов
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The euphoria had passed, replaced by a feeling even more oppressive than when he first learned about the infamous obligation – a sense of brokenness and gnawing resentment. Once again caught in the vortex of his darkest thoughts, Marey’s mind traced circles within a furiously spinning funnel of ideas, sinking deeper with each revolution. The sorcerer sat at his table, crumpling and tearing scraps of paper that fell into his hands, not even trying to contain the rage that boiled within him.
Was there a rational reason for his anger? Had he ever envisioned himself as an enemy of the state, had he already considered the possible need to use his gift against the Empress? No, his anger was not the fury of a villain whose carefully planned crime had suddenly collapsed; it was an unconscious, wild rebellion of a young, vain, and almost maniacally independent soul. Once, in his childhood, Marey was accustomed to looking at the world as his prison, but he could not have imagined, after that fateful night when he fully realized his gift, that he would have to feel like a victim again. He had been humiliated, bound, branded like a slave! He, with his talent, his mind, his will – they dared! And who dared? A flighty girl, who yesterday was nobody, and today beheads people for minor offenses and threatens to plunge half the world into the chaos of war. Marey did not like to use high-flown concepts like "justice," but he considered what was happening to be the greatest injustice. He slammed his fist on the table, and in a sudden impulse, jumped up and walked to the window.
The sorcerer saw nothing unusual: the same boring courtyard of the academy, the same small red and white figures of students, the same monotonous rows of streets in the capital in the distance – everything was familiar and boring, but now it somehow caused extreme disgust, twisting Marey’s face into a hideous grimace.
"How did everything turn out this way, how stupid! Unnecessary people, an unnecessary city, and above it all – this fool with her sick ambitions. What a mad age of slavery and meaninglessness, of chains and grayness! It makes me sick."
The heat grew, his head ached, but even falling asleep was impossible, and Marey lay in bed until midnight, half-sitting, staring blankly ahead with an angry, tired gaze. The swirling in the vortex ended, he was thrown onto the shore, and the thoughts no longer tormented him: only a dull irritation and boredom remained. Finally, sleep overcame the sorcerer, heavy and empty, without dreams.
Added 37 minutes later
A few questions about magic:
Can you have multiple summoned wolves/groups of rats at the same time? Can you delay throwing rats at the enemy until a better moment? What is the speed of the rats? Is the number of uses per day or per battle? Is the wolf under direct control, or does it simply fight on the side of the mage? How long do the wolf and eagle live outside of battle?
Was there a rational reason for his anger? Had he ever envisioned himself as an enemy of the state, had he already considered the possible need to use his gift against the Empress? No, his anger was not the fury of a villain whose carefully planned crime had suddenly collapsed; it was an unconscious, wild rebellion of a young, vain, and almost maniacally independent soul. Once, in his childhood, Marey was accustomed to looking at the world as his prison, but he could not have imagined, after that fateful night when he fully realized his gift, that he would have to feel like a victim again. He had been humiliated, bound, branded like a slave! He, with his talent, his mind, his will – they dared! And who dared? A flighty girl, who yesterday was nobody, and today beheads people for minor offenses and threatens to plunge half the world into the chaos of war. Marey did not like to use high-flown concepts like "justice," but he considered what was happening to be the greatest injustice. He slammed his fist on the table, and in a sudden impulse, jumped up and walked to the window.
The sorcerer saw nothing unusual: the same boring courtyard of the academy, the same small red and white figures of students, the same monotonous rows of streets in the capital in the distance – everything was familiar and boring, but now it somehow caused extreme disgust, twisting Marey’s face into a hideous grimace.
"How did everything turn out this way, how stupid! Unnecessary people, an unnecessary city, and above it all – this fool with her sick ambitions. What a mad age of slavery and meaninglessness, of chains and grayness! It makes me sick."
The heat grew, his head ached, but even falling asleep was impossible, and Marey lay in bed until midnight, half-sitting, staring blankly ahead with an angry, tired gaze. The swirling in the vortex ended, he was thrown onto the shore, and the thoughts no longer tormented him: only a dull irritation and boredom remained. Finally, sleep overcame the sorcerer, heavy and empty, without dreams.
Added 37 minutes later
A few questions about magic:
Can you have multiple summoned wolves/groups of rats at the same time? Can you delay throwing rats at the enemy until a better moment? What is the speed of the rats? Is the number of uses per day or per battle? Is the wolf under direct control, or does it simply fight on the side of the mage? How long do the wolf and eagle live outside of battle?
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers