Trials: The fel cure trials
Figures in white coats floated around the laboratory in a controlled chaos. Between the respective calls and signals communicated amongst one another, only a single voice rose above the noise to direct them.
“Add the pollutant,” Commanded Kil’anas as he carefully watched the experiment unfold.
In the center of the room, an upright entity comprised of arcane energy hovered over the rune to which it had been bound. Its wailing had begun to disturb the efficiency of the atmosphere, yet the team of scientist persisted to resume their trials.
“Do it now!”
The assistant hesitated, cradling the fragile container with both hands before mustering the courage to approach the spawn. She lowered herself carefully, cautious of the rune-spell’s binding, and proceeded to administer the next step.
“Day three of the Fel Cure trails,” Recited Kil’anas. With a snap of his fingers, a quill and several pages of parchment were spawned into existence. The quill etched vigorously to match the archmagus’s notes.
Following the failures of methods one and two, I have begun experimentation with our third and possibly final attempt at successfully restoring arcane purity from fel-affliction. Clocking at zero minutes and forty-eight seconds, phase one has been initiated. Pollution.
Kil’anas rose to face the entity, now writhing with the looming infection. The pure white glow that once resonated throughout its magical form now grew dim as the administered fel magic began to encroach.
The subject has successfully received the pollutant. Clocking at two minutes and seventeen seconds, phase two is to be initiated. Restoration.
“Take your places!” Announced the magister as he gestured toward the experiment grounds.
The eight assistants moved quickly to surround the subject, whispering phrases of magic and enchantment to protect themselves from the dangers to come.
“Now!”
Clocking at four minutes even, my assistants have begun channeling excessive amounts of arcane magic into the subject. Necessary measures have been taken to ensure the entity’s stability.
Four minutes and twenty three seconds. The infection appears to be receding.
Thirty-four percent.
Twenty-nine percent.
Fifteen percent.
The air was suddenly split in two by a dreadful screech; the entity had begun to thrash in its binding.
“Something is wrong,” Kil’anas cried as he shifted amongst his team. “Abort! Cancel the procedure and prepare to eliminate the subje--”
His words were lost in the atmosphere as the subject exploded with a tremendous boom. Glass and stone had shattered alike, leaving the platoon of scientist sprawled across the floor reaching for comfort. Beneath where the entity once stood, existed a ring of ash that trailed in a circle-like-manner.
“Lord Starseeker!” cried one of the scientists as he rushed to the magister’s side.
“I am okay,” Kil’anas dismissed as he hoisted himself to his feet, looking to the group that was still collecting their well-being. “Return to the citadel, and recollect yourselves. We do not have much time, and we are no closer to success than we were three days ago. You are all dismissed.”
The platoon accepted their orders with uncertainty, leaving the magister alone in his messy laboratory. “Damn it!” He shouted as he swatted over a rack of empty vials.
The moment that passed allowed Kil’anas to recollect his composure. There was much work to be done, and little effort to be wasted in frustration. From the corner of his eye, the pen and parchment remained untouched, tucked away in a bit of rubble that was pushed into a corner.
Two fingers were all it took to command the tools to record the last bit of the magister’s experiment.
Clocking in at approximately five minutes and thirty seconds, the subject as spontaneously exploded. Result of method three…
Failure.
