Shafts of Light

[Mithradites 1168]

The quiet chirping of evening crickets resonated through the grey and blue towers of the Silver City, allowing a cacophany of trilled sounds to bid the tired citizens to sleep. The Weary Huntsman Inn was slowly being abandoned by its patrons; all who had smiled far too much for one night, and were now thoroughly exhausted. Some creatures were not, however, the type to retire before completing their work.

Outside the inn stood the new market building; its freshly-hewn stone almost glimmering in the moonlight. Long before the idea of the mercantile structure had even been considered, there had stood for decades a long-neglected, four-spired structure dedicated to the sciences and learning. In its relatively long history, there was only one consistent occupant of the near-useless monolith of stone. This elf now occupied an old basement beneath the new market, stubbornly refusing to move away; Lucion Sullas. Of course, his steadfast refusal to leave may give the reader the misconception that he was an elf with a passionate disposition. To negate this notion, this story will begin with a sigh.

Lucion Sullas inhaled, and released a long, suffocating sigh as he looked over the stitches criss-crossing along the length of the sheep leg. Much like a master-craftsman despising an unbalanced blade, Lucion glowered at the leg, almost as if attempting to delete it from existance with his sheer distaste for it. Leaning his weight upon the stone table, he ran his eyes over the myriad of strange objects that were spread around the leg. To its left rested a set of scalpels, hand-crafted by the master-smith Octavius decades before. Aside from a small hint of rust colouring the handles with a light-brown hue, the impliments were still in excellent condition, and kept razor-sharp. To his right sat his "Sullasian stack"; a wooden board with three vertical-jutting wooden rods, holding a collection of copper and spelter plates, smelted by the new master-smith Ardene Telrunya. Attached to the bottom and top of the stack were two strips of copper connecting to a leather-covered, iron prong. On the opposite side of the sheep leg sat seveal discarded lengths of thin copper strips; something which took Ardene weeks to beat into such a thin and long length. This strange collection of objects was the direct cause of his greatest failure, and disappointment.

With a pull of the lever, the crushing mechanism came down with a solid and deep "thump", scattering the remains of small plants that had previously met its cruel power. Quite satisfied and intrigued with the effects of the crusher, Arthane Lazul pushed the lever back to its original position, raising the device upwards, before pulling it down again. He repeated this several times, much to the irritation of Lucion. Closing his eyes, Lucion sighed once more, and addressed his lab-guest with a stern tone.

"Must you abuse my mechanical instruments when ever you are here, Arthane?"

Pausing for a moment, Arthane looked back at Lucion with a raised eyebrow; the great scar down his face exaggerating the expression more-so than necessary.

"If you wish for me to stop, I shall oblige by your request." He raised his hand, and performed a complex, twirling gesture. "Do note, however, that I entertain myself with your instruments only because I currently have nothing else to do."

To solidify his point, Arthane once again raised the crusher and let it fall again, causing Lucion to wince greatly. Still leaning on the table, Lucion rested his gaze upon the sheep leg; its ragged stitching and lumpy appearance the only differing features from that of a sheep-leg still connected to its body. He shook his head slowly and furrowed his brow as he re-examined the optside of the sheep leg, and spoke to himself.

"What did I do wrong?"

Arthane took a moments pause in his crushing to roll his eyes at the statement. Turning himself to Lucion, he spoke flatly, and slowly.

"What precisely were you trying to do, anyway?"

Lucion gazed over to Arthane with a very tired-looking expression. He often considered Arthane an intellectual equal in many regards, but his lack of logical thought sometimes irked him. Pushing himself away from the table, he walked over to his cold-room, and pushed his way through the iron door. He returned with what appeared to be the remains of a dog, and dropped it on the table roughly.

Arthane once again raised his eyebrow at the sudden, inexpliciable, dog-carcass that lay on the bench, and shot Lucion a questioning look. Lucion, however, looked towards his "Sullasian Stack", and picked the two prongs connected to it. He brought them down upon the dog-carcass and ran them over the remains of its skin. To Arthane's considerable suprise, the muscles of the dog twitched and moved as the prongs touched them, looking almost alive in their movements.

"Did that dog just..." He stuttered in suprise, prompting Lucion to fling his arms into the air, and exclaim with a tone of defeat.

"Yes. It moved. The artificial life-energies run through the dead life-roots and bring temporary life back to the animal. It is by far my most prized, and significant discovery." Lucion dropped the prongs back on the table, sighing once more in a despondant fashion.

"But it appears I cannot create the vessels of life itself." He points towards the sheep-leg with a half-hearted gesture, and lowers his voice to a slight murmur.

"I contructed this sheep leg from a dozen different sheep legs. I mixed and matched muscles, ligaments, even the relevent veins and arteries, and attached them all together. However, I could not harvest the life-roots from the animals without destroying them beyond use, thusly why I attempted to use copper. It has not worked. And I believe no matter how accurate I am with my scalpel, I will never be able to create life. I have therefore reached the end of my work with biology. There is nothing left for me to discover."

Lucion took his hand and ran it through his grey hair, slowly and wearily. Breathing in deeply, he let out one final, exasperated sigh, and shakes his head.

"I suppose I'll have to research another field," he said after several moments. He moved his eyes upon some sketches of jagged shapes he had hung upon the wall. After a few moments of examining the pictures, he re-began what was now practicaly a monologue.

"I suppose I could look into lightning again. That tower did show some interesting results."

Arthane shook his head for a moment, narrowing his eyes for an instant while examining the despondant demeanor of Lucion.

"What could you possibly do with lighting?" Arthane opened his mouth to continue, but he could tell Lucion had already left the basement in favour of his own mind. Grunting to himself slightly, he walked out of the room quietly, leaving the scientist to his thoughts. Lucion, however, thought upon the words of Arthane carefully as he stared at the archs covering the paper.

What could he do with lightning?

[Yuln 265]

((Now how should we reply to this?))

[Mithradites 1168]

((You shouldn't at all. ;) ))

[Samler 1566]

((But... What if Arthane tells me? And then I go down to the insane Lucion to see him shout something about life?)

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.