OOC: I'm going to start Valin's "Adventures" from the day he was allowed to learn magic, being this:
December 11, 794; Talismanian Reckoning
*** Insight ***
Valin yawned. It was nighttime. He wondered why he couldn’t sleep, was it a long forgotten nightmare, an itch, or most likely his impatience. Impatience to ask master Desdel to teach him magic. Rubbing his eyes, Valin started to get up. He recalled everything he heard or saw Master Desdel do, every motion and sound flooded into his mind.
Gathering his confidence, Valin cleared his mind and mumbled what he thought Master Desdel had said and did the hand motions, concentrating on a candle. His mind was willing it to light, or even just a spark to appear.
Not a single flicker of light, not a single motion. Valin concentrated harder, but instead of magic came insight. He thought of how impatient he was, yet afraid. Afraid that Master Desdel would say no, afraid that his pride would be lost.
Valin shuddered. Only to himself, and only secretly, did he ever think of his bad side. His excessive arrogance, his impatience, and his willingness to argue. Valin was willing to argue for anything, no matter how small, or how wrong he was. He recalled the years, when he was a humble boy, and how his pride built up. Over the years, his mind was replaced with an arrogant, proud, and impatient one. Over the years, he became a brat.
Valin became more desperate to concentrate. He attempted to shove his memories away, to empty his mind. The emptiness did not come. Instead, more memories came. His earlier memories, not those of the bog, but those of his childhood. He remembered his mother, his father, and his sister. He loved each dearly and wished fervently for them to come back… He remembered his very first memory, his family reunion. He remembered every aunt, every uncle, every grand-parent, crystal clear.
The candle was still there, unlit. Valin sighed. He was obviously doing something obvious wrong. Sighing, Valin went back into his bed. His mind wandered, to that time he saw a mage come into Master Desdel’s shop and reanimate a dead turkey corpse. The time a different mage came flying through town. He thought about every mage he saw, wishing fervently that he could harness their power. With that, he fell asleep.
As always, Valin awoke with the break of day. He was expected to go immediately and start working, but Valin had something else in mind. With half-awake eyes, he got dressed and lumbered out of his room. He was much sleepier than he thought he should be, and the only conclusion he could think of was that the insight lasted a lot longer than it should have.
To Valin it was scary. It was not life that scary, but philosophy. Though he embraced philosophy in his own way, he was afraid of it. Life after death terrified him- what if there was none? Where would his mind, his conscience, his soul go! Would he be just gone, with no mind, or would he be eternally in pain? Valin shuddered. (OOC: Me too) The sky… were there beings out there? Immortality… What was it like? He shook his head in desperation, but the thoughts came pouring in. Valin rocked his back and forward, not rapidly but fast enough to feel it, in an attempt to clear his mind. There was no relief from the terror.
At last Valin reached the door to his master’s bedroom. He attempted to slowly open the door handle, but he found his hands shook too much to open them. He looked at his hands, his meager hands. Finally, after summoning up all of his courage, he thrust his hand to the doorknob and turned it in one motion, and fell to the floor of Master Desdel’s bedroom.
Desdel was already up, and he was getting dressed. He paused only slightly to examine the shaking body of Valin on the floor, and continued dressing. As soon as he was done, he walked over to Valin.
“Hello, Valin.” He said flatly.
“Hehllo, Mashtur.” Valin managed.
“I see you are not in a perfect state of being. May I ask why?”
Valin tore at his hair. “Tha memmarees… Tha Mehmorees! Dey alwhayz cuhm dack! Da Tehrar, tehrar! Ehternall tehrar!” he slurred, “AUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHH! Hhelpf!”
Desdel knew he had been a moral compass for Valin during his six years as apprentice. Valin had been apprenticed to Desdel when he was seven, and now he was thirteen. “What is wrong?” he asked, mentally going through what could be wrong.
“Tehrar! Lihff ahftterr def, wuht if I dannt reech itt? Wuht wihll hhappin t-to me den? Imhortahlittee! AUUUUUUUUUGGGHHH!”
“Quiet down, Valin. You’ve got a long life ahead of you… don’t worry about anything. I know you want something else, what is it?”
“Dha curr! Curre! Ehscafe frumm ma trubbles! Dheth orr sumthinn.”
Desdel had been suspecting that Valin had always wanted to learn magic, so he suggested it. “Would you like to learn magic from me?”
Valin smiled, despite his pain. “Yehss, thaht wud b-be f-ffine.”
Great for a first post. But is he supposed to slur like that, or is he just upset at that point?