It was a primal, instinctive fear of all humans. As a species, they relied heavily on their eyesight and took comfort in certainty. Darkness robbed them of both, and left even the most unflappable of individuals wary of what was to come forth.
Waver fought to slow his breath in his unease, and steady his hands enough to invoke a facsimile of a Flash spell, to shed some light on the winding, dusty passage before him.
The mention of radio waves being emitted from these depths was what piqued his curiosity. Such an anomaly was unknown in the current scientific standards, and the curious academic in him had volunteered to join in the explorations as soon as he was able. It was only now, when his overdeveloped sense of cynicism and paranoia-- too mature for someone of his age and stature-- decided to start piling the regrets of his decision upon his narrow shoulders.
His mind was so awhirl with 'what-ifs' and other concerns regarding his personal safety that he didn't notice the familiar scent of dust as he trekked further inward. Nor did he notice how the shadows were slowly starting to shift into familiar forms. A stalagmite became a towering shelf of books. A rock became uneven stack of dusty tomes, pagemarked with ribbons by some unseen hand and promptly forgotten. The glistening sheen of water dripping down the walls became ancient atlases, and veins of different rock became akin to carefully drawn mountain ranges and forests, with their names inscribed upon the paper in unfamiliar letters and words.
Slowly the shadows and illusions grew denser, until he was somehow in a facsimile of one of the labyrinthine libraries of Sanctuary. It had to be a trick of the mind, Waver deduced, and he would have kept pushing forward if not for a particular shadow that fell upon him.
It was tall and lean, the cut of an imposing figure in a long coat, one of a lineage so long that the origins were forgotten with time. Waver froze, eyes wide, when he heard his own name echoing through the expanse.]
"Well if it isn't Waver Velvet," [The voice, a man with a rich baritone, said in a dangerously smooth and silky tone.] "Whatever is a child like you doing with my research?"
[Waver couldn't move. He couldn't speak. The silence around them was so suffocating that he couldn't hear anything more than the echoes of that Magus' voice, his ragged breathing, and the haphazard pounding of his heart deep within his chest.
open
It was a primal, instinctive fear of all humans. As a species, they relied heavily on their eyesight and took comfort in certainty. Darkness robbed them of both, and left even the most unflappable of individuals wary of what was to come forth.
Waver fought to slow his breath in his unease, and steady his hands enough to invoke a facsimile of a Flash spell, to shed some light on the winding, dusty passage before him.
The mention of radio waves being emitted from these depths was what piqued his curiosity. Such an anomaly was unknown in the current scientific standards, and the curious academic in him had volunteered to join in the explorations as soon as he was able. It was only now, when his overdeveloped sense of cynicism and paranoia-- too mature for someone of his age and stature-- decided to start piling the regrets of his decision upon his narrow shoulders.
His mind was so awhirl with 'what-ifs' and other concerns regarding his personal safety that he didn't notice the familiar scent of dust as he trekked further inward. Nor did he notice how the shadows were slowly starting to shift into familiar forms. A stalagmite became a towering shelf of books. A rock became uneven stack of dusty tomes, pagemarked with ribbons by some unseen hand and promptly forgotten. The glistening sheen of water dripping down the walls became ancient atlases, and veins of different rock became akin to carefully drawn mountain ranges and forests, with their names inscribed upon the paper in unfamiliar letters and words.
Slowly the shadows and illusions grew denser, until he was somehow in a facsimile of one of the labyrinthine libraries of Sanctuary. It had to be a trick of the mind, Waver deduced, and he would have kept pushing forward if not for a particular shadow that fell upon him.
It was tall and lean, the cut of an imposing figure in a long coat, one of a lineage so long that the origins were forgotten with time. Waver froze, eyes wide, when he heard his own name echoing through the expanse.]
"Well if it isn't Waver Velvet," [The voice, a man with a rich baritone, said in a dangerously smooth and silky tone.] "Whatever is a child like you doing with my research?"
[Waver couldn't move. He couldn't speak. The silence around them was so suffocating that he couldn't hear anything more than the echoes of that Magus' voice, his ragged breathing, and the haphazard pounding of his heart deep within his chest.
Oh, gods. What had he walked in to?!]