Private Tales Night Study

[Alistair Wren]

​

A candle in hand, Alistair crept down the staircase of a winding tower in the College of Elbion. The breadth of night entombed it, moonlight seeping through every arched window that line the tower and feeding the colours of the stained-glass. A kaleidoscope of hues wavered between every crevice of the stone, Alistair's candle reflecting in the panes which bore it. Deathly, he padded down the stairs with a book under his arm. It was the last night before it was due to be returned and he didn't want to make the librarians cross. The hem of his robes in his hands, he turned a corner at the foot of the stairs and wrenched an iron handle, opening the door.

The library was nestled on the other side, the light of the moon cascading upon the shelves, high as the ceiling allowed. Lips pursed, Alistair strode past the librarian, who was leaning back in his chair, sound asleep, and placed his book on the bench. His eyes shifted and swished around the side of the desk, then strode into the library, the librarian none the wiser that he had been there.

From within the depths of the university, mages recited their evening chants, filling the halls with a smooth, esoteric melody. Clutching his long robes, Alistair slunk past the tables and towards the book shelves in search of some evening reading. He had recently dropped his elemental unit and had take up conjuring, which was thankfully, an acceptable subject to contribute to his healing unit. Running a finger along the edge of the shelves, he eyed the spines, pulled out a few books to flick through, then placed them on a pile in his arms. He grabbed a few on conjuring positive energy, as well as beneficial uses for the craft and plonked them in his arms. Books piled high to his chin, he carried them to the back of the shelves, where he arrived at the back wall of the library.

From above the pile of books, Alistair saw a mage sitting on the floor. He appeared too old to be a student, and his robes were slightly shabby. Intrigued, Alistair strode forward. He walked up to the mage, placed his books on the floor and sat beside him. They were at the very back of the library, hidden entirely by shelves. Smiling, Alistair coughed to clear his throat. His vocal cords were still damaged from fighting Havilah in the ruins of a castle and he was having difficulty speaking.

"Hello," his speech was broken, slightly slurred and barely audible. Shifting to the side, Alistair lay on his hip, a hand resting on the floor. The hems of his robes splayed across the stone, the many inner layers contrasting with the dark blue of his outer robe.

He noticed the mage was reading a book of his own.

"What are you..." He started to speak, then his voice shortened out, "excuse me," he coughed, "what are you studying?" He asked again, stifling a chuckle at his speaking difficulty.

"My name's Alistair Wren, I was taking elemental magic, but hated it, so I dropped it and started taking conjuring," Alistair held out a hand, inviting the man to shake it if he wished.

The mage seemed reserved, serious, as though he was too immersed in his studies to have a conversation, but Alistair was intrigued by him.

Nicodemus

 

[Nicodemus]

The sound of students talking in groups, practicing incantations and discussions were oddly calming to Nicodemus’s ears. At a reasonable distance of course, from his semi hidden spot on the floor behind some of the book shelves. He had by design chosen the shelves containing subjects most wouldn’t find interesting thus leaving the area outside of the normal paths students and academy staff would take. The whole thing was strangely serene.

He liked to imagine the noise washing over him the same way the sound of a waterfall did to a meditating monk. Background noises he was comfortable with, allowing him to get into the proper mindset for research. Ever so often pieces of stray conversations would take him back to the early days of his time at the Elbion College. While there was hard times, most of the memories were pleasant once.

It calmed his mind after a long day, ironically the earlier part of the day was the one that was supposed to be the pleasant part. He had only recently arrived back in Elbion after weeks spent away at a archeological dig site, tired but satisfied he had returned bit earlier than anticipated and gone to visit his parents.

His mother had welcomed him warmly with hugs and the frequently asked question if he was eating enough. Sadly it had all gone steeply downhill from there, the old man had been in an even more sour mood than usual and his brother had been out of town. It had been a rather poor dinner all in all, even with his mother doing her best to make what she’d describe as a cosy atmosphere. He had left them in a foul mood, not even bothering to change out of his traveling garments he had headed directly from the College and the library. Now however he was gradually feeling more and more like himself, surrounded by a treasure heap of knowledge and with one of his most anticipated projects in front of him.

Sitting cross legged on the floor Nicodemus had a large pile of books and manuscripts to his right and a large notebook or grimoire if one had a flair for the theatrical in front of him. Balancing precariously on top of the book pile was a small glass container, within it a multitude of what looked like small glowing dots, almost like a cross between pixies and fireflies. The glass container had traveled many miles with Nicodemus, it was easier to bring with him than torches, did not run the risk of burning up precious manuscripts and it was easier on the eyes. It had been a gift from his brother, one he cherished.

In the soft glow Nicodemus was periodically switching between taking notes and reading from a multitude of different books. Checking and double checking references and comparing notes while humming softly to himself. It was like this Alistair Wren found him, the first sign of the other mages arrival was the encroaching sound of shuffling feets and books being gently lowered to the floor. While slightly annoyed by the presence of another when he was in his “zone” the sorcerer pushed it down. It wasn’t as if he could claim a piece of the college library all to himself regardless of how much he wanted to.

Even so he was slightly surprised as the man didn’t just grab a few new books and head off but instead eased himself down onto the floor. His voice sounding strained as if he was sick or perhaps exhausted as he asked Nicodemus what he was working on. Neither uncommon for overworked and stressed students, the College was one of the greatest learning institutions in the world and that carried with it a certain weight of expectations and responsibilities.

Any trace of lingering annoyance was washed away by the delight of somebody asking him about his project. If it was one thing that he enjoyed more than reading about his field of research it was talking about it.

“I’m happy you asked friend” Nicodemus said as he pulled out another book from the pile almost toppling the glass in the process. “It’s a bit of a passion project of mine. At the moment just an academic exercise. A thesis concerning the nature of summoning and how it relates to the fifth law of magic. With enough preparation, practice and time a seasoned practitioner can bring forth otherworldly entities. Though we’ve never been able to take the step the other way and cross into their plane. I have a book full speculations as to why. Does it have something to do with the creatures biology or matter composition? Is it in some way inherently different from ours?” He knew he was rambling, but the floodgates were opened now. At this point he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. “ Why can something cross into different realities but more mundane matter of distance is impossible without a Portal stone? Don’t even get me started on those priceless magical artifacts.” Just the thought of one was enough to make him almost drool . Imagine having one to run tests on, it was sadly something that was unlikely to happen, as rare as they were.

“Perhaps the Five laws are local laws, only absolute in our reality? As you can imagine the there are a lot of theories and it’s a heated topic for debate among scholars.” He said and waved towards the pile of books, all of them having philosophical titles and grand names. Every author convinced that they had the missing perspective and clarity required to solve the puzzle.

In that regard Nicodemus wasn’t all that different, he agreed that the solutions to even the largest questions were but a matter of finding the right perspective. To perceive and understand the world the right way. Something the staggering amount of different magic disciplines, magically gifted beings and many different ways you could complete the same task seemed to support. You could create something as mundane as fire in a hundred different ways, indirect and direct. All a matter of your belief, knowledge and understanding.

“A debate I’ve sadly only dipped my toe into due to time constraints. After all vaguely worded thesis about subjects that are unlikely to ever be disprove or prove doesn’t really pay the bills or make the masters happy.” Nicodemus said with a small smile and shook Alistair’s hand. “Nicodemus Hartmar” He replied, seemingly having used up most of his word quota talking about his personal research.

“Never was very interested in elemental magic.” The sorcerer admitted as Alistar explained his decision to change course from elemental magic to conjuring. “I think you made the right choice, I’ve found that it’s difficult to practice magic you don’t fully believe in or enjoy. But then again I’m biased towards summoning and other forms of conjuring.” He said with a small chuckle. “So your tower of books, borrowing them for an assignment or bedside reading?”

 

[Alistair Wren]

Kneeling on the floor, Alistair beheld the man plainly. He could tell he was annoyed by his personal space being intruded, but the young mage could not fight his curiosity. Shifting around, he sat on the floor and arched his neck over, his eyes drawn to the glowing dots in the jar beside the man. Were they fireflies? Fae? Embers of a spell? Whatever it was, it was beautiful and Alistair wanted to reach out and touch it. Withdrawing a hand, he himself up and rested his back against the wall, the layers of his robes spreading across the floor.

The man's annoyed gaze softened when Alistair asked him about his work, a trait the two of them had in common. As he waffled on, Alistair listened intently, eager to learn about his approach to conjuring.

"Your thesis sounds intriguing, most intriguing," Alistair tapped a finger against his chin in thought, "I would love to read it when it's finished," he smiled and brought his knees up to his chest, then wrapped his arms around them. Indeed, he would be interested to read more about the man's approach to conjuring to see how he could apply different runes and theories to his own spells.

Shuddering, Alistair rubbed his hands. The stone of the floor was hard and made his backside cold.

"Personally, I've been tinkering with methods of conjuring energy that abide by the fifth law," he turned around and said, his cheeks dented with dimples as he smiled, "namely, a means of drawing energy from any source and casting it as a manifestation of that source, the energy need," speech broken, he sputtered shook his head and laughed.

"Excuse me, I had a run in with a monster in Alliria and paid with my speech!" Alistair said, cheeks reddening as he laughed.

"The energy need not be sentient or drawn from a plane outside our own," he corrected himself.

"For example, I could draw on energy from the earth, sun my inner being, or anything around me and what I cast is a manifestation of that," turning his hand around in a circular motion, Alistair nodded as he spoke, his eyes rolling back to gloss over the ceiling.

As the mage explained his theory regarding the relation between summoning and the fifth law of magic, Alistair nodded and listened. Head resting on his knees, he looked at the man as he waffled on, his eyes the colour of a dull sapphire. With the question hanging in the air, Alistair pulled his head from his knees, leaned back and stretched his legs out. He cupped his chin and thought to himself, going over the various runes and proofs regarding the distinction between the physical world and otherworlds in his mind. Mouth agape, he stared at the ceiling and tapped a finger against his chin.

"Being such as ourselves are physical and mortal, therefore we are bound to the physical world and cannot traverse into other planes without dying," he shrugged, expressing his own thoughts of the matter.

"The fifth law proves that travel in an instant is impossible, because there's no such thing as instantaneous change," tilting his head back and forward, Alistair spoke plainly, his chin cupped in thought.

The man then offered Alistair his name.

"It's a pleasure," smiling, Alistair gripped Nicodemus' hand and shook it firmly, his cheeks dented with distinctive dimples.

At Nicodemus' remark about how arcane theory didn't pay the bills, the young mage laughed. He laughed again at his comment regarding elemental magic. The two of them seemed to be in agreement.

"No, I don't like it either, but thankfully the healing faculty accepts summoning as an acceptable elective, provided I can apply it in a positive way," straight eyebrows bumping up and down, he smiled, his navy eyes eyes glinting beneath the bright specks in Nicodemus' jar.

 

[Nicodemus]

It wasn't often Nicodemus found himself enjoying casual conversation to the degree he currently was as he listened to Alistair. His attention span would usually wean off and he'd have politely or less politely moved on due to a lack of interest. Then again, given that he mostly traveled the world in the company of mercenaries and caravan workers it wasn't all that strange that the laws of magic seldom was a topic for conversation. Instead it would revolve around topics that were important at the moment and unless looked to would mean that there would be no other matters to discuss. Pesky things like, is it going to rain, can you eat those berries, is that rustling a wild beast, an arrow or just the wind. Now however he was able to discuss topics he truly desired.

The sorcerer found himself nodding along as Alistair laid out his thoughts on the matter, perhaps having another to use as a sounding board wasn't a bad idea. Especially one who would understand the subject as well as complementing and challenging them on the right areas. Nicodemus grew even more sure as Alistair ventured into explaining his own work and theories regarding elemental energies and different ways to harness them in combination with conjuring. It was fascinating theories and would undoubtedly make for interesting studies, many long nights pouring over magic circles and various runes for the other man.

While Nicodemus didn't have all that much experience with Alistairs approach or beliefs they were fascinating all the same. He responded in the same fashion as Alistair and assured him he would both be willing to share his own findings when the time came, as well as hoping to read all about what Alistair himself might accomplish in the future. He even found himself meaning it, Alistairs youthful eager and determination to test his thesis and to work on it was infectious and Nicodemus found himself smiling.

It was like looking in a mirror seeing his younger self, or well at least a reflection in a pond. Similar when looked on at a nice day, but he suspected they were quite different beneath the surface. Most likely a good thing Nicodemus concluded, given his own troubles and failures. Perhaps the younger man would be spared them, or at the very least make his own less serious ones along his own road.

As much as he found himself enjoying the other mages enthusiasm and explanation of his experiments and research, Nicodemus' smile grew ever so strained when the conversation strayed onto the topic of the Five laws. To Nicodemus Alistair talked in very certain terms about the limits of both distance, time and dimensional travel. Too certain for his taste.

With an effort of will he kept the annoyance of his face and he calmed himself. It had been too long since he had, had a debate with a fellow Elbion college colleague. It didn't need to be a battle. He didn't need to argue, get mad or win the discussion, Nicodemus could just enjoy the conversation. As such he leaned back against the bookshelf and considered what the other mage had said.

Perhaps Alistair was correct and most magical theorists would agree with him, but Nicodemus still found himself believing that the other man was giving in too easily. Giving in and assuming the laws of magic as they currently understood them were absolute. The laws might be true, they were hard to dispute. Like gravity, it would work unless another force intertwined. But their understanding of the laws was even after centuries still incomplete. There was still room for new interpretations and understanding, if anything it was but an inability to embrace a principle of alienation that held them back. It was part of why he had started with summoning in the first place, calling on creatures and beings unknown and alien to him would help expand his mind. In some cases he had even done his rune magic through them, allowing for similar runes to produce different effects. The runes meaning, twisted and shaped through their eyes. Through their understanding of the world he knew with enough time he'd be able to do actions that would otherwise be beyond him.

Alistair was right that they were currently mortal and physical but that could change. While his knowledge was a long way from complete or enough to draw any certain conclusions he refused to believe that death was the only pathway to other realms. Old history books and obscure manuscripts he had found made mentions of shamans as well as other spiritual attuned people being able to leave their body behind and travel. Some were documented by reliable scholars, most sadly where not and the subjects had usually consumed large amounts of questionable herbs and drink. Likely they were most just high out of their mind, but among all the stones he had found some nuggets of gold.

Along with this Nicodemus had also done his own research while on the road and had been able to observe a large amount of different souls and their properties. Mostly that had been through the waking of the ancient dead that still lingered in ruins, but also more recently deceased when their party were attacked by bandits, hostile natives or various beasts.

He refrained from mentioning any of this to Alistair seeing as some of the methods he had used to do said observations fell into the more gray areas of necromancy and summoning. While on the road nobody had seemed to mind or find anything he did odd and ascribed it to him being a mysterious sorcerer, here among fellow mages some of it would be obvious and draw attention he didn't need. Even as fine and well read a fellow Alistair seemed it didn't make him trustworthy. If anything in Nicodemus' opinion it usually made people less trustworthy but perhaps Alistair would prove different.

At least Alistair hadn't quoted the tired old line about "Time is the gods' domain." If he had Nicodemus might very well have stood up and left. It was an absolute he didn't like and a way of understanding godhood and apotheosis he hated.

"It is good to hear that you can make conjuring work within your own field of work and I'm certain you'll find a way to utilize it in a positive manner." It seemed to be what Alistair wanted to hear, after all he certainly could use it for something, not like any magic was inherently good or bad. Nicodemus just found it to be a very diffuse and uninspiring goal. It didn't sound like it'd amount to much. Unlike the rest of his ideas, but it hardly seemed like the right thing to say.

"Seems like you have a bit of an adventurous streak hidden behind your own pile of books Alistair. Fighting with monsters huh?" He said with a small laugh, giving the other mage time to elaborate just what kind of monster he had run into, and why on earth he had gotten into a fight with it instead of legging it. "Do let me know if you after you've graduated have an interest in traveling ans exploration. While this" He said tapping his book in front of him before gesturing towards the pile of books. "is a passion, I normaly do research and archaeological studies on ancient civilization, their beliefs and what they knew. While I'll admit there is a lot of stuff that's light on worth, but there are some diamonds in the rough. They, they're worth it all."

 

[Alistair Wren]

Nicodemus was diplomatic.

Looking down, Alistair smiled, amused by his courtesy. He knew using conjuring for positive means was not as exciting as conjuring demons or the like, but he liked practicing magic that was both useful and intellectually challenging. Sweeping back his hood, Alistair brushed the wisps of hair that fell around his forehead and picked up Poly, his pet giant, burrowing cockroach as he scuttled down his shoulder. Stroking Roly's back, he looked up at Nicodemus.

"There's no need to coddle me, Nick, I know healing isn't as enticing as conjuring demons to some, but I like to be of service to the world," Poly in his hands, he looked at the book shelves and smiled.

"The life of a scholar doesn't suit me, I'm a mage who likes to get his hands dirty," he smiled. He didn't like being a spare part, pouring over theories that had no practical application and never lending a hand wasn't his idea of a fulfilling life. He thought it would make him antsy. Navy robes splayed across the floorboards, Alistair picked up a book about drawing energy from the earth and sun, flicked through the pages and found a section on using the manifestation of the source to counteract evil magic.

A finger held against his lips in thought, he scanned the page as he listened to Nicodemus speak.

"I've already learned how to conjure the energy of the sun to expel the source of curses and other evil magic," he said assuredly, followed by a small nod.

"Ah, yes," he laughed, "an Earl of a small village asked me to expel an evil presence from the ruins of a castle, and I obliged," shrugging, he closed the book and set it aside, "so I spent the night there, drawing on positive sources and conjuring their manifestation can lead to exciting encounters!" He chuckled.

Following the encounter with Havilah, he had to spend the entire day locked up in his chambers and performing rites to the sun and Earth to replenish his energy. He had been entirely spent afterwards. The cockroach on his hand, Alistair stroked it's back, comforted by Poly's light clicking and the scuttle of his little feet.

"When I overspend my energy in conjuring, my connection to the source from which I conjure is dulled, so I must perform a rite to replenish it," he explained the price he paid for his magic. If he did not perform a rite before conjuring again, he would draw energy from himself, expending his life force. Nodding, Alistair rose to his feet and wandered over to the shelf.

At Nicodemus' offer of travelling together, Alistair spun around and smiled, his fair cheeks dented with dimples.

"I would love to! I've been travelling recently to learn more about empathy, as there are few works on it left in the college," he beamed.

"Ancient civilizations, huh? Not something I would pursue myself, but it does sound interesting," turning around, Alistair placed a finger on his chin and looked up at the ceiling as he thought to himself, his navy blue eyes glinting beneath the light of the candles. Poly scuttled up his neck and sat on his head, his feelers peeking out from beneath his hood, "I study insects in my spare time, as you can tell!" He chimed, waving a hand towards Poly.

"This is Poly, he has a friend named Roly," he nodded.

 

[Nicodemus]

“Very well, no cuddling.” Nicodemus said with a shrug followed by a small smile. Seemed like his attempt at feigning interest in the moral part of their debate was easily seen through. Not like he could with any reasonable conviction argue that he didn’t find the ethical debates surrounding their craft tiresome. Ethical debates in his experience seldom lead to anything and quickly deteriorated into a downward spiral. As far as he was concerned there was one sin, ignorance and one grace, knowledge. Everything else was just a matter of how you applied it. Magic was to him not an art or anything special, it was a tool, a way to apply your will to the world around you. The consequences of the actions was on your own head solely regardless of magical discipline. An attempt to divide energy into categories based on human morality seemed like a fools errand.

He had seen many different uses of magic in ancient ruins, while necromancy for one might be viewed as evil in this age it hadn’t always been so. He had seen through the memories of old beings wonderful uses of it, and how it could be used for “good”. While it was true it could be used to foster great capital E evils, like undead armies or plagues it could also help keep a soul tied while a body was healed. Now fire was rarely seen as evil, giving light and warmth in dark and cold nights. Clearly that meant it was good? Ask somebody who’d seen their village burned to the ground by a pyromancer and Nicodemus was certain they’d have other opinions about it. All in all it was a matter of how you applied your power, not the power itself.

He continued to listen as Alistair explained how he had vanquished the evil in the castle on the behalf of an Earl. Most likely Nicodemus assumed he had done it for the people of the towns sake and not gotten a penny for his troubles. Once more Nicodemus showed his keen sense of diplomacy and refrained from mentioning it. If it had been him he’d either have told them to hire a professional monster hunter or to just leg it. The scale of risk versus reward was clearly not tipped the right way. Listening to Alistair go on about his recovering process and exorcist method did little to change his mind.

Nicodemus himself didn’t have any ritual to replenish his strength, mostly he trudged through relying on time and preparation to carry the day. Though he knew of many sorcerers, priest and others that claimed performing certain rituals helped speed up their recovery he himself didn’t. Some even going so far as to claim inability to perform without certain scriptures or artifacts. Something Nicodemus found utterly foolish, to him it sounded like they given themselves mental blockers. Tying their abilities to use magic too closely to their personal beliefs. At times the help of faith, belief and scriptures could give even meddling practitioners the chance to perform miracles but it was just as likely to fail. It was too unreliable for his taste. If forced to choose between power or precision Nicodemus would choose precision every time. At the core of him he knew he would always choose to place his trust in his own hands and skills than deities or belief. Be it failure or success it’d be all him, he’d had his share of both and prefered it that way.

Adding to this the process was as far as he knew vastly different for each individual and prone to different results. Making them hard to reproduce reliably, something that rubbed his scientific mindset the wrong way. Most likely it had something to do with each individual’s interpretation of their magic capabilities. As such it was too personal to be generalized or used on a larger scale.

“I see, sounds like quite the struggle” Nicodemus agreed. “I don’t personally engage in any form of recovering rituals. Besides coffee” He said with a small chuckle. “I mostly use my own strength for the initial phase of my works, then allow the rituals to cascade and build up or use a different fuel source. It has its advantages as far as risks go, thought it’s a slower methode.” Nicodemus kept the excitement of his face as Alistair seemed quite enthusiastic about the prospect of traveling together sometime, though his attitude towards history left something to be desired. Regardless it'd be nice to have another sorcerer with him on his expeditions sometime, at least the conversations would be more stimulating.

At the mention of Alistairs hobby Nicodemus leaned forward to look closer at the insect he had produced from his robes and named Poly. “ Do you practice entomancy?” He asked, his interest piqued again, it was a field of magic he had very little experience and knowledge about and thus always worth looking closer at when the chance was at hand. He leaned even closer to look at Poly as he continued with his questions“Or is it a familiar that has chosen the form of an insect? Greetings Poly.” Nicodemus said, no reason to be impolite even if it was an insect. "Regardless I'm sure he'll make for a fine traveling companion."

 

[Alistair Wren]

At Nicodemus' promise to not coddle him, Alistair laughed. While he appeared soft, his sweet face and cute hair were ultimately deceptive, and hid a strong willed young man who could amputate limbs in the midst of a siege and treat typhoid and dysentery. One of the ends of his mouth turned up and he looked down, smiled and stroked Poly.

Nicodemus then remarked about Alistair's battle with the monster.

"Mead for me, but only after dark," he chimed. At the remark about the rituals Alistair used to replenish his energy, he nodded, "see, unless I perform a rite to replenish my connection to the sun and the earth, I will draw directly from my own life force when I summon," he said, holding a finger in the air as he made his point.

As Nicodemus explained the process he underwent to restore his magical power, Alistair listened intently. It sounded similar to how he recovered after healing, which could often leave him dehydrated. Since summoning in itself was a divine art, so was the price he paid for summoning, whereas as the price he paid for overexerting his energy when healing was a physical one. Tapping his finger against his chin, he brushed back a lock of pin-straight hair that had fallen around his forehead.

"That's a sensible means of replenishing one's energy, when I heal, I expend fluid, so I must drink water," he said, chin cupped in thought.

"Summoning, as a divine craft, requires a divine price, so it is my connection to the earth and that is spent whenever I summon," a finger in the air, he explained the reason for the rites he had to perform after summoning.

Rising to his feet, Alistair walked over to the bookshelf and leaned against it, staring between the many rows. Light from the candles seeped in, bathing the spines in a yellow balm. Poly in his hands, Alistair looked up and smiled when Nicodemus commented on his interest in insects. At the mention of entomancy, Alistair eyed him somewhat snidely from the side. He mostly studied insects for their health benefits and uses in healing wounds, but casting them as a type of magic? That was too depraved for him.

"I've heard of it, but I must say I find the notion of casting insects as an offensive power distasteful, I think they should be left to be," stroking Poly, Alistair nodded.

"I mostly study them for their uses in healing," he said, picking up Poly and letting him crawl over his hand. His features softened, "no, he's just an ordinary cockroach, although a very large one," Alistair smiled looking down at the giant cockroach.

"He says "hello", he looked up and smiled, Poly on his hands.

A pause followed and Alistair stifled a bout of laughter. Nicodemus was a nice chap, their views on certain types of magic may have differed, but he was kind enough and clearly passionate about his work. Alistair thought he would have liked to get to know him better. He wondered if he would like to help him practice his summoning.

An eyebrow raised, Alistair perked up, "say Nick, would you like to help me practice summoning an angel? Professor Sparkhawk has been teaching me how to summon beings, but I haven't quite been able to do it myself," he offered.