Arcanist Tales
“The tale never ends, until a hero conquers the demons. May science and will prevail.” *** Alistair Neon Percival. The True Apostle of the Luminiferous Aêther, The Reckless, The Defender of all Beings, Self proclaimed king of emotional blackmail, Reborn in the year 1980 NC. His goal? To be the strongest and attain all magical, scientific, and economical knowledge in the world! However, with the flames of war staining the vast world, soldiers bidding their family farewell, and kingdoms of the realm butting heads to see who has the biggest stick. Institutions on the rise, large and small, each competing for benefits while experimenting on the common populace in the name of science. This is the tales of the Alistair, the practitioner of all things Arcane and most especially. The Apostle Of Aether. Note: contains strong themes of violence, real world knowledge, and slightly opinionated narration.
I say sorry, because I proved stupid
A long minute after a butler delivered wise words with all sorts of interpretable meanings, the time of day played the tune of noon.
In the dining room, no more conversations occurred; instead, the squad indulged in delicacies. The food ahead tasted like it descended down from heaven.
Such a thing, proved the exquisite culinary skills of a wise man dubbed as Reginald, a man of all trades: not a jack of course.
And as the group tasted his art, clarity came unto weary minds. The discomfort from the rows of events seemed to burrow deep into nothingness.
All that remained were clear heads and filling stomachs. Food does bring people happiness, and it shows.
"Thi-is, so-so-so-gud," Elina said with crumbs spilling from her mouth.
"I agree," Salin nodded, munching on something that looked like a chicken… it was not.
(Though it's a safe meal, don't think too much.)