The devouring light illuminated the second more unsettling reason for her approach: It was hunger. Midnight craved essence. It had surfaced and stirred during the clashes she had observed earlier; a deep, primal hunger within her, an insatiable hunger beyond her control.
In the vast expanse of her mind, the [HUNGER] emerged, weaving its own web of want and need around the failed fiator hunt, entwining it with the knowledge that all beings held essence — beasts, orks, and wizards. The wizard’s withering form stirred a dark curiosity in her: would his essence, elusive in life, become accessible upon death? Might that which she had failed to grasp in the fiator slip from its bond to the body and Rothar when life ceased? If he but died before the golem exhausted him fully, could she claim what remained within him?
But this
was
a wizard.
It was
not
her wizard.
Midnight had seen familiars consume parts of their dead wizards before. At Emery Thurm, some familiars had simply departed, leaving the wizard’s remains to the Ritual of the Dead. Others had consumed a piece — a sliver of flesh, insufficient to satiate any real HUNGER, serving more as a mere echo of what had once been and belonged. Some had taken a heart. Always one, never both. Midnight had never understood why. She did not know what she would do with her own wizard, what she would feel compelled to do. Would she feel the same [HUNGER] she felt now?
Yet, as broken as he was,
this body in front of her
was
still
a wizard
with lingering life,
one that was
not
HERS
As a familiar
of one belonging to the wizardkind
Midnight must
never
KILL
a wizard
without reason.
She must never
from a wizard
that was not her own.
There was hardly any
left in him
not
Should she
She wanted to She should
Should she
help herself. She should She should
She should Why
Why Why?
She needed to Why help? Why? Why? Why?
Why? Why?
Why? Wh y? Why?
HELP HERSELF Why Why?
s hould
She
he l p him
The devouring light illuminated the second more unsettling reason for her approach: It was hunger. Midnight craved essence. It had surfaced and stirred during the clashes she had observed earlier; a deep, primal hunger within her, an insatiable hunger beyond her control.
In the vast expanse of her mind, the [HUNGER] emerged, weaving its own web of want and need around the failed fiator hunt, entwining it with the knowledge that all beings held essence — beasts, orks, and wizards. The wizard’s withering form stirred a dark curiosity in her: would his essence, elusive in life, become accessible upon death? Might that which she had failed to grasp in the fiator slip from its bond to the body and Rothar when life ceased? If he but died before the golem exhausted him fully, could she claim what remained within him?
But this
was
a wizard.
It was
not
her wizard.
Midnight had seen familiars consume parts of their dead wizards before. At Emery Thurm, some familiars had simply departed, leaving the wizard’s remains to the Ritual of the Dead. Others had consumed a piece — a sliver of flesh, insufficient to satiate any real HUNGER, serving more as a mere echo of what had once been and belonged. Some had taken a heart. Always one, never both. Midnight had never understood why. She did not know what she would do with her own wizard, what she would feel compelled to do. Would she feel the same [HUNGER] she felt now?
Yet, as broken as he was,
this body in front of her
was
still
a wizard
with lingering life,
one that was
not
HERS
As a familiar
of one belonging to the wizardkind
Midnight must
never
KILL
a wizard
without reason.
She must never
from a wizard
that was not her own.
There was hardly any
left in him
not
Should she
She wanted to She should
Should she
help herself. She should She should
She should Why
Why Why?
She needed to Why help? Why? Why? Why?
Why? Why?
Why? Wh y? Why?
HELP HERSELF Why Why?
s hould
She
he l p him
The devouring light illuminated the second more unsettling reason for her approach: It was hunger. Midnight craved essence. It had surfaced and stirred during the clashes she had observed earlier; a deep, primal hunger within her, an insatiable hunger beyond her control.
In the vast expanse of her mind, the [HUNGER] emerged, weaving its own web of want and need around the failed fiator hunt, entwining it with the knowledge that all beings held essence — beasts, orks, and wizards. The wizard’s withering form stirred a dark curiosity in her: would his essence, elusive in life, become accessible upon death? Might that which she had failed to grasp in the fiator slip from its bond to the body and Rothar when life ceased? If he but died before the golem exhausted him fully, could she claim what remained within him?
But this
was
a wizard.
It was
not
her wizard.
Midnight had seen familiars consume parts of their dead wizards before. At Emery Thurm, some familiars had simply departed, leaving the wizard’s remains to the Ritual of the Dead. Others had consumed a piece — a sliver of flesh, insufficient to satiate any real HUNGER, serving more as a mere echo of what had once been and belonged. Some had taken a heart. Always one, never both. Midnight had never understood why. She did not know what she would do with her own wizard, what she would feel compelled to do. Would she feel the same [HUNGER] she felt now?
Yet, as broken as he was,
this body in front of her
was
still
a wizard
with lingering life,
one that was
not
HERS
As a familiar
of one belonging to the wizardkind
Midnight must
never
KILL
a wizard
without reason.
She must never
from a wizard
that was not
her own.
There was
hardly
any
left in him not
Should she
She wanted to She should
Should she
help herself. She should
She should
She should Why
Why Why?
She needed to Why help?
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
Why? Wh y? Why?
HELP HERSELF Why?
Why
s hould
She
he l p him
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