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it is currently season 1, the year 1449 NE. The continent of Tnarem balances on a precarious edge between survival and destruction. Wars rage between nations, fractures open in the Mete. The world as the Tnaremi people know it is dying and they are left with a choice: act or perish with it.

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Zayn Sahira Gentil of Lornesse, Lehreur of the Gran Schecolei
May 14th, 1401 NE
High Nisi
Common Nisi
Common Mercian
Common Markish
Magic Capable
Yes, absolute and born awake

Goals & Motivation

Bringing change to the system that is the Augury is Zayn's primary focus. While most of his years were spent within the institution, his recent existence in Lornesse for eight years has provided him with new views and ideas. He would like to see the Carnifex destroyed, but he would still like for the Augury to maintain a structure of security that does not let a chaotic environment like Lornesse take hold. In this regard, he has his eyes set on bringing a slow end to the Carnifex through covert means. In current times, he seeks to destroy blood hunts occurring in smaller towns.

On another note, the lehreur would like to put forth as much effort as possible into solving the problem that is the fracture. The catastrophe in Inshmor needs to be combated, and he would like to be there to help, but he knows that if he leaves Lornesse, he will be putting himself in utmost danger of capture at the hands of the Carnifex.


Bearing a staunch theologian reputation, the lehreur of the Gran Schecolei knows everything there is to know about the three religions of Tnarem. With that knowledge, though, comes criticism and analysis. He was given a copy of the yaalma as a child, and even though he has kept it all these years as a keepsake to times long past, the values and qualities of yaalmanism have lost their grip on his soul. Most of his life was spent within the grasp of the Augury, and there, as so many did before him and beside him, he fell in love with the principles of Templarism. He did not care for the religion because of its detrimental views on magic, but for the idea of the family unit, and the power of family altogether. He was taken away from his family, and though he stands a lonely bachelor in the confines of Errevet, he still wishes he had one. More than anything else, perhaps, so that he could be further in touch with the Four and their sacred household.

Due to his lack of family, and the void that exists within him, his prayer to the Four is much different than the common practitioner of the faith. He was never able to step into the role of Haras through marriage, but has managed to conduct himself in such a manner through different means. His students are his family, and the Gran Schecolei is his home. He cares for both unconditionally, and expresses this through his holy invocation.

It should be known that the sacrilegious view that Templarism holds for magic still exists within Zayn's mind. It is subdued after eight years in Lornesse with its Pantheonic influences, but the flippant use of magic continues to make him uncomfortable.


Of ebony skin, his complexion is quite impeccable. Despite his age, wrinkles have not manifested as thoroughly as others who have undergone senescence. He lacks a large amount of blemishes, and his hair is still as dark as the day he was born. He stands firmly at six feet, his figure lean and toned. Lastly, his irises are nearly as black as coals, keen and observant within a sea of white.


Whether through the Augury, or through the Carnfiex, or through the Gran Schecolei, Zayn has always belonged to an organization greater than himself. Those administrations guided him, and in doing so, broke him down into a list of qualities that they could easily identify him with: loyal, reliable, patient, supportive, imaginative, sedulous, humble. At least, those were the characteristics that he presented before his betters when at work. In the public eye, he was devoted to their ideals and desires, diligent and dependable in his labor for each faction, forbearing and encouraging in his instructions to those he taught, modest in his successes and failures, and a true visionary when complex problems arose.

The first thing that these groups did not see were the genuine feelings he held for them. He was only loyal because otherwise he would be dead. He was rigorous and trustworthy because it was his duty, and he would want the same were he in a position of power and needed a task completed. He was tolerant and concerned for his students because he had always wanted mentors of such caliber. He was deferential because it was of no benefit to boast or to wallow. The only part of him that stood real was his creativity in periods of high pressure, for his mind and life experience had always been his greatest weapons.

A second thing that the magical, governmental bodies had hidden from them were his weaknesses. Behind all those mental strengths was a sensitive man that repressed his own emotions and overburdened himself with the difficulties of others. His compassion and his attempts at being as altruistic as he could be with the hand he was dealt made him weak. He was no soldier, but he acted like one, and when he was obscured behind closed doors, his remorse would swell inside of him like bubbles rising to the water's surface until he could take no more.

Call him cowardly, or call him brave, Zayn cares not. All he knows is that he is a scholar, a researcher, and a chaser of knowledge. At least that's what he tells himself. Maybe he overlooks the fact that he would give up his life for any of his students were they ever in serious danger.

Academic (3) - magic, alchemy, theology
From a young age, the Nisi has taken great care to be an expert at a plethora of things. He is a master in any topic related to magic, having studied everything to do with it for his entire life. Alchemical processes are also his specialty, knowing quite a bit about herbalism, chemicals, minerals, and poisonous concoctions. His prowess in alquemancy helps him in this regard to create perfectly balanced elixirs. Furthermore, he is a maven of religion, and knows every principle, practice, and mythos surrounding the deities of the Tnaremi people.

Zayn's fundamental, but extensive, education lies in various categories: philosophy, the sciences, mathematics, and also the history, government structure, and geography of Nis.

Diplomatic (1) - none
As a commoner, Zayn has no need for the knowing of important peoples or their customs. While a good chat with someone can always go a long way, it's just not something he focuses on. He favors honesty more than deceit, and while he cannot discover that a person is lying by examining their mannerisms, he can do so by analyzing the facts. He gives most people the benefit of the doubt, but when he does catch them in a lie, he becomes a stern father-like figure that seeks to grant that individual a befitting punishment. Zayn is not a timid man, nor is he a rude one, but he is simply unaware of the aristocracy's etiquette. He was never raised to know it, and now being nearly fifty years of age, he has considered it a lost cause.

Martial (2) - battle magic
In average physical shape, Zayn knows how to use a sword quite adequately. He is no master, however. He could hold his own in a fight if he needed to, and could even prove quite the opponent for someone of equal skill because of his ability to prepare with magic before combat. The long-lasting effect of certain kinemancy spells provide him with a stronger sword arm, which makes him harder to disarm, and gives him the ability to inflict a more devastating blow. He learned such techniques from his days with the Carnifex, and he uses much of this knowledge to teach battle-related magic courses at the Gran Schecolei.

Relationship with House

The only "family" Zayn has ever had was the Augury and the Carnifex. He views them in a mixed light. On one hand, he holds the utmost disdain for everything they stand for. Witches should not be imprisoned, should not be hunted down, and should not be stripped of marriage and privilege. They are people, and yet they are treated as beasts. Only the truly loyal beasts ascend, to be the hounds of their masters. On the other hand, there is some small semblance of respect and gratitude that he has for the organizations. They saved him from murdering his real family, and saved him from himself. They taught him to control what was inside, and though they were terrible in how they kept him locked away from society, they taught him right from wrong, and he learned what true remorse felt like when he was within the ranks of the Carnifex.

All in all, they were his past, and have molded him into what he is today. For that, they have his thanks, and they have his hatred.

Public Knowledge

- Is known to be a professor (lehreur) of the Gran Schecolei, teaching basic classes in magical theory, magical history, battle magic, and casting techniques. As far as advanced classes go, he has been seen teaching paramancy, alquemancy, and thermomancy.
- It is quite obvious to see that Zayn was once an augur, as seen by the hollow triangle tattoo beneath his left eye, and currently resides in Lornesse to evade their reach.
- Used to be a justicar of the Carnifex.


- There is hearsay that the Caemires call upon Zayn Sahira's paramancy when a witch is incarcerated and has valuable information that they are refusing to give up.
- Whispers tell of times when Zayn stood a justicar, slaying and imprisoning rogue witches all across Tnarem. Such infamy, whether true or not, brings a certain distaste within the Schecole.
- It is a common, dirty rumor that the lehreur has an underground business of selling poisons to the right people. Obviously based off his impressive alchemy skills, no one truly knows if it is fact or fiction.
- Due to his background as an augur in Templaristic regions, he is assumed to be of the Templar faith and is treated as such by many Lornesians.

It did not begin in a gentle way. He was not within the arms of his caring mother when he was stripped away by the evil entity that was the Augury. No, he was the evil that needed to be stopped. He was four years old, and while he had been showing signs of restless nights, his common parents thought nothing of it. Some children were not good sleepers, that was all. They ignored it as best they could when he was playing alone, speaking to things that were not there. They ignored it when he placed his hands over his ears and cried. But they could not ignore it anymore when the day came that the voices in his head overwhelmed him, talking in tongues and making his young mind collapse. He sobbed from the fear, from the pain. In that chaos, his fury was unleashed; his magic brought forth fire and wind.

That small home was not made to hold against such power. It crumbled away like moist bread, but before it did, Zayn's mother grabbed her screaming child and ran through the flames. The tendrils of the inferno burned her flesh, and nearly took her life, but when his father returned from a day at the market, and saw the result of his son's madness, he sent word to the Augury. They came in full force, intrigued by a child that could harvest so much magical energy without Source.

When they arrived, one of their first actions was to secure an eolith-studded collar about the child's neck, to dull his abilities so that he was of no more danger to those around him. The contraption was tight however, uncomfortable. It made the boy feel like an animal, bringing tears to his eyes as he looked upon his unconscious mother with his father sitting beside her. She was in critical condition. That much he knew. The signs were there to be read, but at his youthful age, he did not understand. Only as an adult could Zayn recall what had truly been happening: his mother had been fading. The burns had become infected in the time it took for the Augury to reach their home.

Zayn did not see his mother die. The augurs took him with haste, and the last thing he saw was his father sobbing into his hands as a firm grip on his shoulder steered him away, toward a new life.

The Athenaeum of Nis was his new home and would be for the majority of his life to come. Upon arrival, he was branded with an inverted, hollow triangle tattoo beneath his left eye. Even from the very beginning, he was treated as a specimen for study. As he grew, he noticed the awe-stricken gazes his capabilities would bring forth. The reactions caused him to have mixed emotions: on one hand, he was frightened of himself as others feared him, and on the other hand, he was interested in seeing how truly powerful he really was. He would never fully discover himself. Not as he wished to.

Until the age of eleven, he was schooled in standard education and basic concepts of magic. His early entry into the Augury and his intellectual prowess sped up his learning curve, and once all standard knowledge of the arcane was covered, he was plunging head-first into the specific families of magic. At the age of twenty-one, he would graduate with advanced education in most forms of magic, and also in alchemy at the behest of his alquemancy professor.

Through seventeen years of life in the Augury, he was molded by many other things than magic. That same alquemancy professor, Septimus Soldati, would become a close mentor of Zayn's. He would introduce Templarism to his young mind, and like reading a book spoken aloud, he became enthralled in its pages. Septimus explained each theological abstraction with such detail and passion that Zayn began to understand, and in his own way, began to respect the ideology and the way of life that a Templar coveted. He found himself drawn to the Four, to its patron saints, to the importance of family, to the battle between caeli and salis. It was not until later that he discovered the malicious views the religion held for magic, and when he did finally swallow that truth, it wounded his heart and stained the reflection of himself whenever he looked into a mirror. He was an abomination. That was the reason he had nearly murdered his parents.

With this callow hatred of himself and others like him, Zayn was more than open to the idea of joining the ranks of the Carnifex when they came knocking on the door of his chambers within the Augury. They desired for him to be a justicar, and without a moment of hesitation, he agreed. At their hands, he learned how to defend himself in combat with a sword. At their hands, he learned how to use magic in the midst of battle, or in preparation of one.

For fourteen years, until he was thirty-five, Zayn would remain in Nis, rooting out rogue witches alongside others of his order. He saw many things during that time. Most hunts resulted in the guilty subjects submitting to the Augury, but on the rare occasion where someone of stubborn pride refused to be taken, Zayn had seen his comrades take a life more viciously than he had expected. With time, he was the one taking those lives.

A message would be delivered to the Carnifex of Nis that year, telling of the growing population of rogue witches in Dubhion, particularly in the northern reaches where Lornesian influence was the heaviest. They needed more able men. Zayn volunteered, seeing an opportunity to strengthen his own standing within the Carnifex.

Zayn, along with an entourage of eager-minded justicars, would arrive in Inshmor in the next month. While there, when he was not working with his compatriots to perform hunts, he met with a personal tutor as often as possible and slowly learned common Markish. It aided him in communications with the common folk of Dubhion, and along with his Templar faith, he connected with the people in such a way that nearly canceled out his Nisi heritage. His efforts to relate with the commoners bore fruit eventually, and after five years of collecting clues and traces of their targets, they heard rumor of a small settlement in the north that had used magic for generations.If there was one thing about Dubhion that he would never get used to, it was the near-perpetual state of muddy ground, and in its northern swamps, that quality only worsened. Muck grabbed at the hooves of his horse as he rode beside other justicars. It was not raining, but the downpour had only recently ended. The air was damp, tickling his skin with its moisture.

The venari had been approved for the the hamlet of Calder, and like a small army, the Carnifex was in route, ready to surround the village in its entirety. Beside Zayn, mounted on the back of a brown-haired stallion, was a man of eastern Mercian descent. He was in his mid-thirties, only slightly younger than the Nisi who had recently reached the ripe age of forty. "You startin' to get a little old for this, Zayn?" He asked, grinning over at the senior justicar. "Gripping those reins pretty hard. Afraid you'll fall off?"

"I've never liked horses," he admitted, peering over at Charis, taking in the visage of his chestnut hair and olive skin. "And yes. My legs wear out easier than they used to."

"You should really stretch before you get on your horse, then," the Mercian teased.

"I do, and that's what's terrible," Zayn laughed.

"We've arrived," came the voice of the invilicus, their leading justicar. "Doran, Charis, Teagan, Zayn―with me. Everyone else, surround the village. No one leaves. You know the drill." All of the justicars not mentioned by the invilicus began dismounting their steeds, beginning the process of setting up a perimeter that would not be passed. The remaining five riders continued on, toward the village's center.

Before they reached it, they were met by a large force of Calder militiamen. Nearly a score of them. Their local marshal approached the invilicus. They went over pleasantries quickly. After that, a few more bits of information were exchanged between them via whisper. With a final nod, the marshal took his guardsmen and joined the other justicars in forming the perimeter.

Breathing deeply, Zayn recollected the reins of his horse as the other four riders trudged on. When the five justicars finally reached the village's center, a snort sounded from the nostrils of the invilicus's horse. In preparation, the lead justicar cleared his throat, and Zayn watched as his countenance contorted into a mien that would incite fear in those who stood in his way.

"Good people of Calder!" He began. The Nisi's eyes looked about, taking in the many faces that watched him from within their homes, their doors partially open. Others observed from their croplands, halting their work for but a moment. "We are here at the behest of the Kingdom of Dubhion and the Carnifex! We will be testing all denizens for magic capability! If your blood runs blue or we discover your magical use through other means, you will submit to the Augury or be escorted to Ifran by crucifixion! The choice is yours!"

With that, the invilicus removed his feet from the saddle of his horse and dropped to the ground with a thud. Doran, Charis, and Teagan followed suit, and with a deep breath, Zayn did as well. One by one, they sifted through each home. The first few were uneventful, but soon, there came one where the tension was tangible within the air. It was a family of five: a man, a woman with a baby boy in her arms, and two young daughters. They all cowered in fear, except one.

Like a true patriarch, the father stepped forward, his chest propelled forward to demonstrate has masculinity. It was a futile gesture.
His eyes were moistened by a sheen of water, his nostrils and lips quivering only slightly. Every justicar there could see the man's fate.

"Teagan, test the man," the invilicus commanded.

"There is no need for that. You know of what I am," the commoner stammered. His wife and daughters pulled at him, but he shrugged them away.

The invilicus chuckled. "You are brave, witch. Do you plan on submitting, then?"

"I am no monster, and I am not made for your Augury. I have done nothing wrong. All I do is ingest Source and help move large rocks in the mine so that the miners can get to the iron better, safer."

A kinemancer, then, Zayn thought. Bound, most likely.

"So you favor pride over life? Brave, but foolish," the invilicus said, amending his previous comment. "Teagan, test the women and children."

The man looked on with disdain, but remained still as the justicar took each of their hands, cutting each open. He took a sample of blood from every single one, bringing it to his lips so that he could test the vitae. "None of them are magic capable," Teagan announced.

"Just you, then," the invilicus concluded, eyes returning to the man. "Bring them to the village center. They all will be crucified for harboring a witch."

"No!" The father screamed, reaching out to seize the invilicus by the throat before he was caught by Charis and Zayn.

The wild eyes of the commoner were not the only ones in the room. "You would murder innocent children, Invilicus?" The Nisi asked, enraged. "Have him submit to the Augury, and for that, his family will be spared. This is needless death."

Hands clasped behind his back, the invilicus met the wrathful gaze of the senior justicar. A grim line was made of his lips, and Zayn could tell the overseer was pondering the possibility within his head. "Alright," he finally said. "Do you accept such a deal, witch?"

"Y-Yes," the man responded, giving in.

"Good. Bring him to the village center. Get a collar on him."

They did as commanded, and by the time the hunt was finished, the sun was beginning to set. The justicars took up residence in the local tavern, as was custom. If they needed more beds, and they nearly always did, as many homes as required were seized for the time being. Though the foul things had been removed from all justicars for the venari di sangue, now that it was over, the eolith collars were returned to the necks of all those capable of magic within the ranks of the Carnifex.

After eating his supper, Zayn―along with all the other senior justicars―were summoned to the room of the invilicus on the second floor of the tavern. Upon arrival, they entered one-by-one, taking seats at a circular table that had been set up in the middle of the room.

"Good evening gentlemen," the overseer began. "I wanted to update you all on what will be taking place here over the next few days. We discovered many more witches here then we first expected. Even the rumors did not seem to give the sheer amount of evil here justice." Pausing, the invilicus sniggered incredulously underneath his breath. "From the information we managed to glean from the witches, and from the information the fucking idiots were dumb enough to tell on their own, the Carnifex has come to the conclusion that the village of Calder has been harboring witches for quite some time, perhaps even generations. Along with those that refused to submit to the Augury, all non-magic-capable individuals will be crucified as a gruesome example to be made to all those in Dubhion who would seek to conduct themselves as Calder has."

Hidden at his side, a clenched fist focused Zayn's anger. He tried his best to remain composed, but as he always had, he struggled to keep his emotions hidden. To not bring attention to himself, he averted his eyes, moving them around the room, or settling them on the surface of the table. "Are there any questions?" The invilicus asked.

No response came.

"Then it is settled. Inform your lessers. The crucifixions begin at first light tomorrow. Rest up."


They did not discriminate. Men, women, and children, no matter their age... they all ended up on the cross. The magic-capable ones had their crosses burned, and so they hung there, nailed to the wooden post while the tendrils of the flame crept forever upward. It was a slow death, a horrifying death. It was one of the only days in his existence where the song of disembodied voices did not fill his mind. Or maybe they did, but he did not notice. The screams were too loud. The cries of a fucking infant. He could not watch it all, but he watched enough.

Every cord inside of him tore away as they pinned those poor people to the uprights. After many, many years, it made him realize something: maybe the witches were not the monsters. Not anymore so than those that weren't, anyway. These people would never have committed themselves to a deed so horrible, but the Carnifex did.

"Invilicus," Zayn whispered, standing beside his overseer.

"Yes, Zayn?"

"Can I have a moment to myself out in the swamp?"

"For what reason?" The invilicus asked, annoyed.

"We're killing children. I know my duty, but I can't stand here and watch this. Let me go make a fucking prayer away from my men."

With an angry sigh, the invilicus nodded. "Escort him and watch him closely," he called to a few of the other justicars, ones that were not magic-capable and particularly talented with the sword.

"Thank you," Zayn said, storming off as three justicars followed him.

Once he was out far enough, where the village could only be seen in the distance, the Nisi took a deep breath and fell to his knees. He closed his eyes, tears dripping forth onto the ground as his hands closed around one another. "Haras, Minea, Vulcus, Phile... I hope you do not judge these souls for the safety they gave to those who wield magic. I pray that you g-guide the children to a place of mind where they can forget this when they arrive in your Eternal Spring. And please, please... I pray you do not condemn me for what I have to do. I am one of your children still. I promise."

Wiping away his last tears, Zayn quickly stood, collecting a bit of soil in his left hand as he did. He placed it in a pouch on his waist before turning around to face the three justicars. "Let us return. I apologize for the delay."


Another day passed, and Calder smelled of smoked human flesh and rotting corpses. Night was setting in, and the unlucky few that lingered could be heard as the justicar headed for the tavern, having recently discovered that the invilicus had summoned him to a private meeting. They whimpered upon their respective crosses, but the Nisi did not shoot one glance their way.

The fact that the inn was filled with boisterous laughter and noise was sickening. He climbed the stairs in silence, ignoring any that called out to him or attempted to catch his gaze. Before long, he brushed past the two guardsmen on either side of the invilicus's room, and pushed the door open.

"Good, you're here," came the all too familiar voice of the creature that had ordered the death of so many innocents. "Close the door behind you and come take a seat."

He did as commanded. He always did as commanded.

The invilicus was eating his dinner, taking occasional sips from a goblet of wine. He dined like a king while the common folk hung outside in the growing cold, hungry crows coming from time-to-time to pick at their mangled carapaces.

"I wanted to reach out to the Augury today and inform them of our success."

Our success. He was a fucking fiend, wasn't he?

"You were genuine yesterday, Zayn, and showed true resolve as a soldier. I thought I would show you some respect. Here, unlock your collar." Reaching into his pockets, the invilicus brought forth a key, tossing it across the table.

Arching his eyebrow in perplexity, the Nisi stared at him for a second before taking the key and releasing the collar from his neck. He set it on the table, its heavy material making it clank against the wood. "What would you like to talk about for five minutes while my magic builds back up?" Zayn asked boringly.

"Your relocation," the invilicus replied. "Charis tells me of how your body is growing weaker as you age, and from what I saw from you yesterday, I think it is time you took a break from the hunts."

"Let me guess: you think I should become a professor at the Augury."

"A good idea, no? You can better use your talents there. Not many witches like you out there. Inshmor would be honored to have you in their court, no doubt."

"I suppose they would."

Stabbing a piece of mutton with his fork, he consumed a large bite. "I'm sensing a 'but' from you."

"But," Zayn continued, "I have other plans."

"Other plans?" The invilicus mocked. "What other plans could you possibly have?" His fingers curled around the neck of his goblet, raising it to his lips so that he could taste the wine. He did more than taste it, however.

One could see it in his throat: his attempts to swallow. His hands raised to claw at his own flesh, trying to pressure his own esophagus into letting the liquid inside go up or down. It did not move.

Eyes bulging, the invilicus stared at the Nisi across from him, confused.

Zayn's countenance was void of emotions. Still, like the corpses outside. He controlled the wine within his throat as easily as breathing. Not many were his equal in alquemancy, and without flinching a muscle, he stared into his victim's eyes with no remorse for the first time in a long while. "Go ahead," Zayn whispered. "Speak up."

The invilicus gurgled.

Reaching down, Zayn grasped the pouch at his waist and placed it upon the table. He untied the string about its base, and let the cloth unfold. Two fingers entered, and when they came back into sight, they held a pinch of dirt. "Do you know what this is, Connor?" He asked, using the invilicus's first name as emphasis.

He gurgled. His eyes bulged even more.

"This is what I am going to use to transport myself out of here once I take your life. The Carnifex will never see me again." Licking his lips, Zayn blinked. It was a luxury that the invilicus did not have. "Those guards won't come in here for quite a while, I imagine. Not until they think it's been far too quiet for far too long. So your corpse will sit here, and by the Four, I hope it takes them so long that you bloat, and you pale, so that you can be like all those people out there. You deserve that."

Pools of water, spurred by the rage, developed in Zayn's eyes. "I hope Ifran is every bit as cruel as you envisioned for these witches, because that is where you're going." The Nisi stared at him, stared until all the life faded from the invilicus. When it was all gone, the former justicar closed his eyes, and with the veins in his forehead tensing in concentration, he plunged himself head-first into his evocation spell.

Without a sound, he was gone, reappearing in the darkness of the night.
Successfully, Zayn escaped from that venari di sangue. He walked north for a long while, and after a month, he reached Lornesse. He was weary, hungry, and thankful that the Lornesians gave him passage into their lands. He stayed in Ouesthohl for a few days, rebuilding his morale and acquiring some supplies before moving on to Errevet. Being absolute, awake, a former justicar, and a former augur was enough for him to seek out the Gran Schecolei. He had heard of it in his days within the Augury, and if it was like anything he had heard, he wished to be one of its lehreurs. If he could teach young, budding minds that were like his how to control their magic in a kingdom that would not seek them out and imprison them at the earliest convenience, it would be a wonderful thing.

As he had hoped, the Gran Schecolei would accept him as a teacher, and he would begin his work immediately. After five years, ideas for a secretive organization began to build within his mind. It started off innocently enough―simple discussions about thwarting the Augury and its ambitions. Those of similar thought joined with him under an invisible banner, and after three more years, a network of agents and political investors (whose identities were to remain hidden, as was the standard) was painted from a blank canvas. Now, in the present day, Zayn does all he can to contribute to this faction that he helped create. In all honesty, he liked the name that the nobility used for it: the Coterie.
thermomancy, alquemancy, paramancy
evomancy, mauermancy, kinemancy, mutomancy

Magical Abilities Explained

Lessons in the Augury were long and difficult, but they taught him so much about the families of magic. He knows them all due to his ability to cast any spell from any arcane realm, but of course, true power only surfaced in certain schools: thermomancy, alquemancy, and paramancy. Zayn is an elementalist in heart and vitae, and by all means, he is unrivaled in the Gran Schecolei and abroad. Likewise, he is able to communicate with other witches as easily as he breathes, and with his great mental power, he invades another witch's mind like no other. He is a legion, marching into the various regions of the brain and harvesting anything of use.

Though not as robust as his aforementioned magical fields, Zayn has decent prowess in kinemancy, mauermancy, evomancy, and mutomancy. He lacks true power and tact when it comes to spells of illomancy, however. He can levitate to a higher balcony with his kinemancy, a process that may break a sweat but will not leave him wholly fatigued, and can empower his own sword arm to deal a more devastating blow. His mauermancy allows the ritualistic preparation of wards, though they take time to build. He cannot craft them on a whim, and cannot do them over large areas. A room, at most. His evomancy is unreliable and many times he requires other witches. He cannot teleport very far, and because of this, he rarely attempts an evomantic spell alone. For mutomancy, he only truly uses it to better strengthen himself for melee combat. He cares not change his appearance, and is admittedly nervous about changing his full state out of fear of losing control.

If a spell is proving to be quite arduous for the lehreur, the gentil of Lornesse finds meditation and runes to be the most beneficial in helping him cast.

Consequences of Being Awake

"The Song" - Ever since he was very young, Zayn could hear the voices. He had no idea that they were supposed to be quiet like the wind, for he had never met another like him until much later. The voices he heard were different, louder, more boisterous. They plagued him the most at times when he dazed off during the day, or when he tried to acquire sleep in the thick dark. It was not bound to these instances, however, for Zayn sometimes would be in mid-conversation and hear the guttural sounds of something not exactly human. Sometimes, the voices are truly terrifying to hear, and will make all the hairs he has stand on end, freezing him in place with fear.

"The Pull" - Not nearly as severe as the Song, the Pull is an aspect of Zayn that does not bother him too much. He felt the aching need to be by others like him when he was on the run from the Augury and the Carnifex—when he was all alone—but for most of his life within the Athenaeum, he was surrounded by those of similar make. They weren't exactly awake like him, but they were entwined with magic in a comparable fashion, and that seemed to satisfy the hunger for the most part. He began to feel the Pull in a much stronger sense when he moved to Lornesse, for it was there that two awakes existed, and he felt himself drawn to them, even when they were very young. It would be this sense that aided him in the recruitment of others into the Coterie.

"The Dream" - Likely the weakest of the three consequences, the Dream is an out-of-body existence that, interestingly enough, is only experienced when the Song is the very worst. When he tries to fall asleep, and the voices ring in his ears relentlessly, he tosses and turns in his bed, fearing that the things that he hears might be around him. Sometimes, on the worst of nights, when he finally does fall asleep, his body slips into the Pale, and he finds himself being stalked by shadows on the edges of his vision, their grotesque melodies playing and playing and playing.
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Last seen May 30 2018, 12:39 PM Created on December 15th, 2017 has made 3 posts played by Chase
Zayn Sahira Nis
Last seen May 30 2018, 12:39 PM Joined December 15th, 2017 has made 3 posts has earned awards