- Messages
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- Character Biography
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Sitting in his dormitory at the Elbion College, Alistair Wren went over the most important units for an exam on conjuration he was going to take the following week. He sat crossed-legged on his bed, surrounded by books and scrolls, with a quill in his hand. Roly was scuttling across the floor and Poly sat on his head. Brushing his nose with the tip of the quill, he leaned down and derived the function of a rune in a particular spell he was having difficulty with in the course. Conjuring was a difficult school, the most difficult in his major, but it was without a doubt the most interesting. Craning his neck around, Alistair double checked his runes to see if it was possible to derive the desired output of the spell from them.
The exam was in a week and he barely had any free time. He was sleeping less and less and had been grumpy, but mostly because he was still recovering from witnessing the death of Maho Sparhawk. He had been withdrawn, and hadn't been talking to the other mages as much.
Tristan, his dorm mate, had been trying to drag Alistair out of the college to have some actual fun, but Alistair refused. He had to pass this exam, it would do wonders for his mood and hopefully impress Selina Altas. Groaning, he squinted at the pesky function, which he couldn't derive a product from as much as he tried. The runes became blurry on his parchment and he sighed, struggling to concentrate amidst the stress. He breathed in and exhaled, then ran a hand through his hair, resting his forehead on a fist. The door swung open, and Alistair looked up to see Tristan walk inside, a gaggle of girls chattering and laughing in the corridor behind him.
The room was circular, the walls made of stone and bathed in light from the stained glass windows. Alistair's eyes closed when he saw Tristan and he groaned in frustration. He knew he hadn't been studying, and he had missed his conjuration lecture that afternoon.
"Why weren't you in conjuration this afternoon?" Alistair demanded. Turning around, he stared at Tristan from across the room, his navy eyes flashing with a glint of sapphire.
A pause followed. Alistair stared at Tristan, his mouth hanging open. He slumped his shoulders and huffed, then turned around to face the wall, "this is the most difficult subject in your major, you're never going to pass unless you actually go to class!" Alistair snapped.
He was in denial. Part of him wanted to take a few days off to relax, but he knew he would regret if he didn't get a result in the top percentile. He looked at the runes again, squinted, then felt his head hurt. He grumbled, threw his quill down and placed his face in his hands, his teeth tightly clenched. He did want time off, he really did, but was too responsible to allow himself to have it, especially when he had to help Tristan with his studies as well.
"And you didn't do your runes for empathy," he grumbled, his face in his hands.
The exam was in a week and he barely had any free time. He was sleeping less and less and had been grumpy, but mostly because he was still recovering from witnessing the death of Maho Sparhawk. He had been withdrawn, and hadn't been talking to the other mages as much.
Tristan, his dorm mate, had been trying to drag Alistair out of the college to have some actual fun, but Alistair refused. He had to pass this exam, it would do wonders for his mood and hopefully impress Selina Altas. Groaning, he squinted at the pesky function, which he couldn't derive a product from as much as he tried. The runes became blurry on his parchment and he sighed, struggling to concentrate amidst the stress. He breathed in and exhaled, then ran a hand through his hair, resting his forehead on a fist. The door swung open, and Alistair looked up to see Tristan walk inside, a gaggle of girls chattering and laughing in the corridor behind him.
The room was circular, the walls made of stone and bathed in light from the stained glass windows. Alistair's eyes closed when he saw Tristan and he groaned in frustration. He knew he hadn't been studying, and he had missed his conjuration lecture that afternoon.
"Why weren't you in conjuration this afternoon?" Alistair demanded. Turning around, he stared at Tristan from across the room, his navy eyes flashing with a glint of sapphire.
A pause followed. Alistair stared at Tristan, his mouth hanging open. He slumped his shoulders and huffed, then turned around to face the wall, "this is the most difficult subject in your major, you're never going to pass unless you actually go to class!" Alistair snapped.
He was in denial. Part of him wanted to take a few days off to relax, but he knew he would regret if he didn't get a result in the top percentile. He looked at the runes again, squinted, then felt his head hurt. He grumbled, threw his quill down and placed his face in his hands, his teeth tightly clenched. He did want time off, he really did, but was too responsible to allow himself to have it, especially when he had to help Tristan with his studies as well.
"And you didn't do your runes for empathy," he grumbled, his face in his hands.