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Here is the next part of my Revenge Series! I'm interested to see what people have to say about it, as this part begins to open up the magic system within the world. So, if you have any questions or are curious how specific things will work, please feel free to ask! I hope you enjoy it and, as always, thanks for reading. :)

---------------------------------------------------

It's…his… blood…,” Ragnar said through shuddering breaths. Nicolas was looming over him and all Ragnar could think of was that he was now under the headsman’s ax. Nicolas took a minute to process that piece of information and was frustrated. Why doesn't anyone ever give him a straight answer? He was stonewalled when he used reason and here he was, stonewalled again, when he had acted on a violent impulse. 

Nicolas stood to his full height and the band of light in his hand pulsed outward. Ragnar screamed again as he watched the light pass over and through him. Suddenly, Nicolas knew what the light pulse did and he laughed. It was a deep, long belly laugh. The involuntary action shattered whatever remnant of fight that remained to Ragnar. A dark stain spread across the lower part of his cloak.

Holding up his left hand to show the colorless light to the terrorized priest he asked in between laughs, “Do you know what this is?”

It was a monumental effort for Ragnar, but he managed to barely shake his head. 

“Animadverte. Marking of the Soul. Astral magic is intensive on the casters' mana for two reasons. One, it requires a ritual to be performed in order to map out the target's soul. The other reason is having to overcome the target's soul defenses.” Nicolas looked at the light, mesmerized. 

“This spell takes the first part of that problem and negates it almost completely. This was something that was only ever even theorized. With the mana consumption alone, I should be dead from casting it so many times, and yet here I am using it as a torch. I've ripped away the left arm of your soul, Ragnar, and it was consumed. It's gone. Forever. There is no growing it back.” 

At that, a pulse of light passed through the cowering man. His soul was marked once again. Nicolas pushed through the astral plane, using the power of Animadverte to guide himself. With an understanding of the spell structure, Nicolas realized just how crudely he had used it. He saw the look on Ragnar's face the moment he closed the hand on the first finger of Ragnar's remaining hand. 

“You've got one more chance before I start taking chunks,” Nicolas said. Some part deep within him wanted to do it, to rip and tear Ragnar apart, to go and rip everyone apart. In the darkest depths of his labyrinth of a soul, The Voice stirred. The violent impulse intensified. The only reason he didn't act on it was his wanting of answers. Answers he might be able to get out of someone else. 

“P-p-p…” Ragnar stuttered. 

“Use your big boy words, Priest,” Nicolas said, icy coldness swept through every syllable. He tightened his grip on Ragnar's soul and began to pu-

“PACT! PACT! PACT!” Ragnar shouted the words. A sickly purple light radiated off Ragnar's upper chest, as he threw himself into the floor. 

Nicolas knew very little about Pact and Sealing magic. It was the only discipline of magic that required the use of crystals as an external mana source. Due to this, it it's utilized primarily in the security of information. 

Glyphs will always follow three simple rules, regardless of their complexity. The first is the same rule that applies to all magic theory. Simple does not mean easy. The strength of the seal is relative to the mana infused within it, not the seal lines themselves. Finally, do not attempt to break a seal without adequate knowledge of who, what, and why. Who created it? What is it sealing? Why would this need to be sealed or unsealed?

A relatively good thing about seals is that they won't kill those who break a pact. It will make those who break them wish it did though. Nicolas thought on the last bit of information. 

“Who, what, and why?” He asked out loud. The intensity of the purple hue was dimming. It was at a snail's pace, but it was dimming. Nicolas was starting to pace, the purple light of Ragnar's Pact Seal faded into darkness, the only light in the room was from Nicolas's spell. 

“You're a priest of, uh, something. You're wearing the symbol of The Brood,” Nicolas said. The only sounds in the room were his boots scraping the rocky ground and Ragnar's whimpers. “Show me the seal again.” Ragnar hesitated, but complied. 

The seal itself was about the size of Nicolas's hand. It looked like it had been carved directly into his skin and left a scar. Surprisingly, none of the scar tissue felt raised. It was two circles, one was smaller and inside the other. At the very top of the inner circle was a triangle, equal on all sides, stretching down until it was spitting the circle into equal halves. At what would be the center of both our circles, was the tip of the second triangle as it copied the same pattern. Inside the ring created by the two circles were fuzzy symbols that Nicolas couldn't make out. He let out a slow whistle. Simple does not mean easy.

“I don't even understand how they even made this. There's no marks from an etching tool, it's not burned on, nor tattooed. It's not even ink. There's nothing you can tell me?” Nicolas asked, caught between a feeling of frustration and excitement. It's not on the skin, maybe the muscle or bone?

“I… I can't. It goes against..” Ragnar said, pointing at his chest. This was the first time he had spoken in a while. Nicolas watched as the light grew in intensity again, but stopped and slowly died down. 

The old man looked ancient now, his wrinkly skin was torn up and down his only working arm. He looked like shit. 

Ragnar took a breath in and steeled himself before saying, “He's testing you.” The purple light grew but fizzled out a second later. 

“So he is involved with the whatever-the-fuck blood that was in the chalice?” Nicolas asked. Frustration was steadily winning in the race against his excitement. He felt an urge to send the pulse out again. Ragnar said nothing. Nicolas let the urge win. The Animadverte Spell swept across the entirety of the room. 

That's when Nicolas noted two big things. There were no scars to be felt from Ragnar's seal because it wasn't carved into the skin. If Nicolas hadn't been touching it, he doubted he'd even believe what he was seeing. He couldn't make out the letters because they weren't on the material plane, they were on the astral. Ragnar's seal was carved directly into the man's soul. That's when the other thing happened. 

“Greetings, child. It's time we talked.” The Voice said. 

Remember When A Monfort Heights Literary Society Spawned A Township War?

Those Cincinnatians who live outside the West Side may not even know how to locate Monfort Heights on a map in the northern ranges of Green Township. It is still a fairly quiet place, almost 150 years after the Cincinnati Gazette [11 June 1879] effused about its Edenic qualities:

“As is well known, if Arcadia yet exists of earth, Green Township has long been the English for it. Here bloomed the apple and cherry, and pear, and quince, and raspberry, and strawberry, and currant, and gooseberry . . . [You get the idea.] Here strife was unknown, the only rivalry between the men being as to who should raise the largest fruit for exhibition at the annual festival, and between the women, as to who should make the most impossible patchwork bed quilts for exhibition thereat. The rude world has here made no inroads upon the rustic tongue of truth and affection.”

In 1877, the rude world did make an inroad into idyllic Green Township in the form of a saloon, plopped right into the center of Monfort Heights. At that time, 50 years before an incursion of suburban tract homes inspired the adoption of a more marketable name, Monfort Heights was known as Gans’ Corners, after the Gans family that owned all the land surrounding the intersection of North Bend Road and Pleasant Ridge (now West Fork) Road.

It wasn’t so much the saloon itself that caused the kerfuffle. As saloons go, it was a reasonably sedate operation with none of the notoriety of the devil dens down the road in Cheviot. No, the impetus for the dispute was a literary society.

Until the saloon arrived, the only public buildings out at Gans’ Corners were a run-down schoolhouse and a Methodist church. Around the time the saloon made its debut, a new, two-story school building was erected, designed so that the upper room could accommodate meetings of a cultural and social nature. The local literary society was delighted. According to the Gazette:

“The Acme Literary Society filled up the upper room with stage, curtains, chairs, and other necessary furniture. It also graded and macadamized a road from the pike to the schoolhouse door, and set out a score or more of shade trees in the yard. In fact, the society seemed to comprise the only persons in the neighborhood of the Corners who took a practical interest in the school property, till within the last few weeks.”

The Acme Literary Society was enormously popular in that isolated rural neighborhood. An estimated 80 members gathered each Monday evening for reading, singing and recitations. All was well until someone in the Methodist Church invited John Rudel of Lockland to address the congregation. Rudel was the dynamic leader of the local Sons of Temperance organization. Temperance proved to be a popular topic, and the Acme Literary Society followed by inviting Samuel F. Black, a Cincinnati attorney active in the temperance movement. It was Black’s appearance that agitated the pro-saloon faction, according to the Gazette:

“Black animadverted pretty severely upon the Germans bringing Germany into America in the manner of their drunken customs, etc. The avowed design of the temperance meetings was to close up the saloon aforementioned at the Corners.”

A glance at a Nineteenth-Century map of the Gans’ Corners environs finds enough names along the lines of Haeffner, Beischel, Getzendanner, Kraus and the like to suggest that this anti-German rhetoric did not receive unanimous approbation among the neighbors. The Deutschland element and their friends who appreciated a mug of suds began to ask why the schoolhouse supported by their tax dollars was sheltering a cadre of radicals out to infringe upon their freedoms.

At the next election for the local school board (Rural District 8), the pro-saloon faction supported an apparently neutral candidate who, immediately upon election, voted to kick the Acme Literary Society out of the new schoolhouse. The society immediately appealed to the Green Township Board of Education, of which the rural districts were subsidiary. The township board passed a resolution allowing local societies of a literary or cultural nature to meet in the rural schoolhouses.

It was a hollow victory because, although the township board had the authority, the local rural board had the keys. When the Acme Literary Society appeared at the door of Rural Schoolhouse Number 8, they found two-thirds of the local school board barring the way, accompanied by a number of younger, tougher farmhands who may or may not have inspired themselves with a visit to the local saloon. Per the Gazette:

“Among the first of the members of the society to endeavor to gain admission to the hall were three or four ladies [who] made very earnest and forcible speeches to the two Directors, telling them with a vigor and a force of language and energy of expression befitting their sense of the guilt and meanness of the course pursued by the two aforesaid members of the board.”

When one of their husbands joined the fray, announcing that such obstreperous behavior might well be acceptable in Germany but would not fly in these United States, the two board members signaled their minions, who produced truncheons and advanced upon the literati of Gans’ Corners. It was only the intervention of William Gosling, president of the Acme Literary Society, that circumvented violence at the schoolhouse door. Gosling appealed to his neighbors to act like neighbors, return to their homes and find the best lawyers available to file neighborly lawsuits against each other.

The next showdown took place, ironically, at a saloon. The Seven-Mile House in Cheviot (located on the grounds now occupied by Cheviot School) was indeed a saloon and also a convenient meeting place for the Green Township Board of Education, who would rather have been doing nearly anything else other than listening to the yammering of a bunch of farmers from out at Gans’ Corners.

The arguments were tedious and inane. The pro-saloon faction claimed that the Acme Literary Society caused untold wear and tear to the brand-new schoolhouse by walking up and down the stairs and by parking their buggies in the front yard where the horses could nibble and trample the grass.

The height of absurdity was reached by one of the pro-saloon board members, Joseph Eply, who failed to arouse any sympathy at all by itemizing all the vituperation directed at his good name and then attempted to apologize for one untoward comment that he had unleashed in his frustration.

One of Eply’s neighbors claimed that he was standing nearby and could attest that the foul utterance never escaped the board member’s lips. Eply rose in fury and, according to the Gazette [14 July 1879] erupted in an outburst of righteous indignation:

“Mr. Eply then insisted that he did say it, and became so enraged at the young man for attempting to take away from him the glory of saying this thing that he was sorry he had said; that he claimed the young man had called him a liar, which he had not, and he was proceeding to explain that he was not afraid of anybody, etc., etc., etc., when Mr. [Harvey] Orr called the President’s attention to the fact that this oratory, while it might be highly entertaining and all that, was not expediting business any, and the board returned to business.”

The Acme Literary Society was left to find other places to meet, the saloon prevailed and was soon joined by a few competitors. Fifty years later, in 1928, Green Township begged for a levy to replace the decrepit old schoolhouse that had caused such a commotion years ago at Gans’ Corners.

Lyrics: “Tataeshi Tatakai no Uta”

What I did for the good ending theme of Lamento, I also decided to do for one of the bonus songs of the soundtrack. 

With that, do know once again that this is just an edited MTL of the lyrics. I can’t assure that the accuracy of the “translation” matched what the original text fully meant to convey, even in spite of my best efforts. 

......

“Tataeshi Tatakai no Uta” “賛えし闘いの詩” (Note: The word verum is Latin for “truth”.)

Performed by: Kanako Itou

Lyrics

The words and thoughts we impart soar upwards in a spiral 螺旋 翔け昇り 届け･言葉･想い rasen kake nobori todoke kotoba omoi

They shine a bright white, overlapping and echoing 白く 輝きて重なり響き合う shiroku kagayakite kasanari hibiki au

Bear your words and share your thoughts verba ferre, et dona corda 言葉を運べ 想いを贈れ

Find and deliver the words of truth inveni, o da veriverbia 見つけよ 届けよ 真実の言葉たちを

Sing the words and bestow its light verba canta, et dona lucem 言葉を歌え 光を贈れ

Realize it, connect with it and make a wish animadverte, junge, ora 気づけ つなげ 願え *

The fractured earth tears apart even the bonds we share ひび割れた大地が 絆さえ引き裂く hibiwareta daichi ga kizuna sae hikisaku

Once you realize the pain of what you’ve lost, can your wings still flutter? 失った痛みに 気づく時 はばたけるや? ushinatta itami ni kidzuku toki habatakeruya

The words and thoughts we impart soar upwards in a spiral 螺旋 翔け昇り 届け･言葉･想い rasen kake nobori todoke kotoba omoi

They shine a bright white, overlapping and echoing 白く 輝きて重なり響き合う shiroku kagayakite kasanari hibiki au

Let me feel you, let your wishes and your power reach me 君を感じよう 届け･祈り・カ kimi o kanjiyou todoke inori chikara

If you bond with another soul, even the darkness can be warded away 魂寄り添えば 闇さえ払えよう tamashī yorisoeba yami sae harae yō

The flame that burns away sin tears through the rocks as it spews forth 罪を焼く炎が 岩を裂き噴き出す tsumi o yaku honō ga iwa o saki fukidasu

It dances in the tempestuous winds, consuming the past, present and future 荒れ狂う風に舞い なめつくす 過去・今・未来 arekuruu kaze ni mai, name tsukusu kako ima mirai

Even the rain that heals the drought can overflood and overflow 乾き癒す雨さえ 行き過ぎて溢るる kawaki iyasu ame sae ikisugi te afureru

There’s a promise that must be fulfilled: to search for your missing half and sing 果たすべき約束 片割れを求め 歌え hatasubeki yakusoku kataware o motome utae

The words and thoughts we impart soar upwards in a spiral 螺旋 翔け昇り 届け･言葉･想い rasen kake nobori todoke kotoba omoi

They shine a bright white, overlapping and echoing 白く 輝きて重なり響き合う shiroku kagayakite kasanari hibiki au

......

*Note: The lines that are in Latin are sung two times in a row. You also hear the Latin lyrics in the track “Sanga and Touga”(賛牙と闘牙), which is also essentially an instrumental rendition of this song.

To Animadvert

This is bullshit.The words lining up in a row to collect into a sentence making a distinct point to obfuscate to confuse to intimidate and animadvert to bring about mismeaning, it’s just… it’s bullshit. We can do better than this, surely. We can communicate with this language that we love. We can make love with our tongues – I don’t mean anything by that. I just mean we can make peace through…

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ANiMADVERT AND ANiMADVERT CLONES AND ANiMADVERTS AND ANiMADVERTS CLONES

Several Dangerous Trending With Husbands

More and additional women are moaning about the intractable, difficult, bullish, and even ungrateful and spouse battering habits and even conduct of their husbands nowadays. Initially, it had been thought that this is emanating from the dental problems of the particular newlywed adjusting to be able to the realities involving the married lifestyle. But this is usually being observed amongst those married for over five years. These kinds of husbands are usually angry. Married life is hell with regard to these wives because husbands quarrel, bicker, complain, accuse, threaten and try everyday to prove to their wives that will they are mind of family; beating up and real harming their spouses. Many of these husbands refuse to provide money for food and other needs of the house even when they have. The wives are usually complaining about their particular husbands keeping silent with them for days and nights and sometimes days without uttering any kind of word or responding to the efforts with the wives to communicate with them. These husbands refuse food in addition to any things of which would connect them with their girlfriends or wives during these lock-downs. If these wives try harder in order to get their husbands attention, these are crushed up, physically and even verbally abused. Numerous of these ladies are in an express of nervous break down. They are puzzled and are considering divorce which a few of these husbands had already endangered about earlier. This example raises some quite critical questions: ? Just what are these harassed, maligned and outdone up wives undertaking which drew negative blood within the husbands who should have professed undying love simply a few several weeks or years before? ? The proceedings in the particular mind of the partners who could keep quiet on their spouses for weeks on end and beat way up their very own wives in the least excitation? From the reports available, several days in each month, these wives go through these silences and physical and spoken abuses and keep quiet and hide exactly what they are heading through for a lot of factors they have mentioned and for some other reasons that certain are not able to understand given typically the horrible things that they are going through. Below are a few of the particular reasons the women stated why they may not be discussing: ? For fear of staying labeled troublesome. ? Regarding fear of even more reprisals from typically the husbands who normally threaten that in case they are reported to their chapel authorities or their own families, they would conquer them up extra, divorce as well as eliminate them. ? For concern of being manufactured a laughing share with the neighbors and even public. ? For newer wives, they consider they are going throughout the period of adjustment. They just wake up a few or more yrs later to discover out that they are hooked in order to that same routine of lack of love and affection and abundance associated with violence and wickedness. These husbands happen to be wont to animadvert on their wives involving deficiency of respect to be able to their authority since heads of the family members, infidelity and much more frequently than not threaten divorce. Some also threaten that that they would kill their particular wives if they have to tell anybody just what they are performing. All forms associated with intimacy are rejected the woman. Any time these husbands need sexual intercourse, they pretend to include repented then when they will come, they only whack through their very own wives and walk away without concerning them selves with any benefit for the lady. Some have beaten their wives intended for the mere truth that they saw her discussing with other people or their own pastors and bishops. They have appear home and beaten up their wives just because a new concerned neighbor which may have already been seeing what is usually going on dares to ask. That they have beaten in addition to threatened their wives or girlfriends if their pastors or bishops have by inspiration enquired after their households and asked in the event that all is effectively in their properties. Perhaps, as you read this particular, there are thousands of pictures associated with women's faces exhibiting where they include been given the black eye by way of a husbands. These women are keeping these kinds of pictures of pity as evidence for divorce and possible vindication should the family try to be able to turn against these people. Some wondering that feel my thoughts now are: "why are these husbands reacting so violently to their wives and even barring them by talking about their very own sufferings in their hands? " Is usually there a chance these husbands realize that what they are doing is wrong? When they are informed of the evil and illegality associated with their acts, why are they persisting in this? Are these partners looking for help? Matrimony introduces certain sizes in people's existence that they may certainly not have been ready for. It was amazing to see my District President come in order to my office one morning to ask us over to his house. When inquired why he is in my office inside the morning, he or she gave me the particular proverb that "the toad does not run inside the mid-day if there is nothing seeking it. " Upon reaching his residence, my wife who had been some months expecting a baby was there with a packed bag. She has left our house as according to be able to her "she is usually not able to understand my behavior. inch It was a confusing scenario because for me many of us did not provide an issue that can cause such a drastic move by her. Well the particular story is of which we had issues which usually my assessment offers rated minor on managing family financing. She was certainly not happy with my decisions. We got argued about that but my insistence on my selection as final hadn't gone down well with my partner. When my Section President heard my views that problem did not should have what I experienced done, he had taken me aside plus said that will not take someone's daughter who was normal and beautiful in addition to disfigure her together with a pregnancy in addition to not listen in order to what she has to say and even feel. He asked what options that has been left for my spouse after putting the girl in that situation and probably would not likewise listen to her. get more info had been taken which stored the situation and even a great lessons learned that day time that has assisted me a lot. Probably men really should end up being taught to listen to their wives and be ready to do and so before they put the knot. There seems to be too very much insecurity around men. Women are typically the ones that appear beautiful. They typically have grace and an alluring that create the feeling of wonder which demands respect plus endearment. Is now there a chance adult men are resisting to pay this due of respect and respect to the girls in their lives? Precisely why are they fighting off? There was a convinced that most of these types of insecurities are the issue of unemployed or under-employed men or perhaps men whose wives or girlfriends are earning even more income than. Yet we are viewing that many men who are quite successful in their particular own callings in addition to are capable to provide enough income regarding their families are participating. Several of the women who have are available forward to present their situation thought that they would not even want much using their partners. They say almost all they needed is usually to be listened to plus made feeling just like women and and then, they could supply their lives to be able to their husbands. Whoa! Francis Nmeribe will help people who desire a joyful relationship inside their dating, courtship in addition to marriage relationships. He is the author of many great relationship plus personal development articles and books including - "Foundation For Joyful Relationships", "Wrong Reasons For Obtaining Married", "Growing From Your Experiences", "Action Quotes". If you need help with your dating, courtship and marriage relationships, call Francis Nmeribe in [http://www.successpublishers.com.ng]. Subscribe to the RSS Rss feeds and have a free of charge copy in the e book version of "Wrong Reasons For Obtaining Married". Read even more free relationship articles on my blog http://marryright.wordpress.com. Email: Francis19561@hotmail. com

Celebrate a life by mummifying the remains, or point to its transience by casting them aside, but first and foremost embrace the virtues while the blood still flows. 

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Saturday 1 December 1838

7 ¾

1 20

slept comfortably last night – Damp thickish small rainy morning F46° in my study at 8 ¾ am looking for Mr. Bull’s bill – A- reminded me I had left it with Mr. Parker – breakfast at 9 ½ in about ¾ hour – then had Booth (David) – it appears from his account that the blame rests mainly with Washington! – he came about 11 ¼ but was 1st with A- Holt came at 11 40 – then grand explanation before all 3 for ¾ hour of this miserable steam engine business – SW. had mislaid the agreement and .:. not brought it – he said Holt knew all about it – Holt declared he knew nothing about it – had never seen it, and knew not prices or anything – I animadverted strongly on this – and after hearing Booths’ account called upon SW. and Holt to say if his (B-‘s) statement was true or not – Holt said yes! directly SW. returned no answer for a considerable but at last seemed to say yes also – he shewed a letter from the low moor people (dated 15 October) to say that nothing was wanting on their part but B- might go on with the engine house – he did go on with it, and it was covered in about 3 weeks ago – no reason given for the delay of the engine since – Mr. Hird owned to SW. last night that he had been to blame – but said all should be completed by Xmas – all SW. can say is that he never thought the Hirds would have done so – it seems there was a neglect in the ordering of the engine which but for B- would have been made to pull by hand and then the Engine house would have had to come down again – SW. said this had been mentioned to the engineer, and Holt said it had been by word of [mouth] mentioned but could not say anything about the agreement – the engineer denied to Booth that he had ever heard anything about it – the fact is, SW. has taken the undivided responsibility on himself and the mismanagement lies at his door – left him and Booth in the little sitting room about 12 ¾ and took Holt into the drawing room – blamed him for not acting

SH:7/ML/E/22/0072

upon the authority I had given him and for not obliging SW. to consult him as to the agreement prices etc. etc. etc. But repeated what I had said before all 3, that I laid the blame to SW. and that B- stood quite acquitted – then told H- to consider what I had best do – He owned that Stocks would bid a high price for my colliery on account of the privileges – I could loose the whole of the Northowram coal – Holt to talk to his brother John, and see what they could bid per acre for my coal from year to year – Mr. Holmes will pay them nothing – the Holts have advanced all the money between 18 and 19 hundred pounds in Siddal, and £1000 of John Holts’ in shelf – but they will make him pay interest – Holmes took Stocks in partner alarmed at his making a feint to sink 2 pits in Ouley house land – Mrs. Machans’ coal on the lock again and farm too – John Pearsons’ son having cut his throat, the estate is tied up till his youngest child (aet. 5 or 6) comes of age – no bad thing for me – Holt to come between 9 and 10 on Monday morning to talk about the coal – then (about 1 ¼ or later) had Booth up in the west tower about the fireplace and levelling the strong flag-floor with cement the outside wall having [settled] 3/8 of an inch throws the floor thus much out of level – then shewed him the bills SW. gave me – all this and talking afterwards took till about before 3 – then ordered him cold meat for his dinner and came upstairs and wrote all but the first 4 ½ lines of today – B- to send a man on Tuesday to prepare the tower floor – to let in the carpet hooks – Had just wrote all the above at 3 ½ and went out – met Booth at the back Lodge gate – walked with him to Listerwick pit and looked about – then with Robert Mann there puddling the reservoir or dam for the steam engine, and stood talking and then parted with him at the back Lodge gate, and home at 5 40 – told him to let me know what he thought the coal worth taking it from the present time (I to pay all expense up to the engine working and the underground reservoir making) – would there be any objection to take the coal from year to year at so much per acre – no! for there could be an average made of the straight work per acre and on quitting there could be a valuing on and off – Robert would not object to this and did not see that anyone would object – he had thought an underground reservoir of 50x50 yards would be enough and would be done in 3 months from the time of the engine working – he calculated while the engine had to work night and day (i.e. till the underground reservoir or water-lodge is done) the engine would burn 18 loads of coal at 9d. per 24 hours, and 2 firemen including oil etc. etc. would = 2 guineas a week .:. say total expense per week = £6 per 12 weeks     Booths’ men Edward Waddington and Robert Wharton  were brick-arching the steam-engine underground chimney having got almost up to the engine house – home at 5 40 a few minutes with A- then changed my things damp from the damp and small rain – dinner at 6 20 – coffee – I looked over the London and Halifax guardian newspaper A- came up to bed a few minutes after 10, and I followed her almost immediately at 10 10 and staid with her till she got into bed or at least locked me out Damp small rainy windyish day and rainy windy night now at 11 pm sat up till twelve and three quarters writing copies of letter to Mr. Bull and Messrs. Hirds and Co. Letter tonight from Mr. Auguste Quillacq announcing the sending off of the 4 dozen claret delivered in London at £9.12.0 and 2 dozen Beaune at £5.14.3 – the carriage of the dozen bottles of Reims champagne from Paris to Calais par diligence which had not arrived in a week or thereabouts = 34fr. 50 cents = £1.7.5!

OMG these JoJo commercials (the ones where protagonists advertise merch) have no chill.

In one Jolyne sees Jotaro coming home and she’s upset at the nerve her father has to just show up after everything. But then she sees the Iggy pins, and goes “OMG I must have them!” Did they just use Jolyne’s broken family ties to advertise and sell merch?

I propose the next should be  Diavolo animadverting Risotto nendoroid to Risotto as the man is lying on the ground bleeding to death. “Hello, do you have time to look at this chibi version of yourself real quick?” Maybe Risotto can pinch the chibi’s cheeks as he dies.

It's been a bit since I've posted, but I finally came up with a working title at least! This entire series is now officially For All That Have Fallen. Honestly, chances are I'll end up changing it a few times, but for right now, I think this fits perfectly. Anyway, here is the next section of it! Feedback is always welcomed, and as always, thanks for reading :)

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Nicolas was frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Does he speak out loud to the Voice? Through thought? 

“Tell the priest to go and perform the Rites of Ahlera. If it doesn't kill him, it'll at least give him some use of that arm” the Voice said. It felt like his skull was vibrating from the words. “Now, boy.” It said when Nicolas hadn't acted. 

“Go do the Rites of Ahlera. It'll give you some use of your arm,” Nicolas said. He quickly added “I believe this is from your Lord himself.”

Ragnar stood quickly and mumbled to himself “Yes, yes, of course. Ahlera, of course, Goddess of Flesh and Bone..” as he hurriedly left the chamber. He hadn't even bothered to close the door. 

Join me on the Astral Plane, child. This is a discussion from soul to soul. 

Nicolas sat back down on the bed. His joints still ached and his muscles burned, but nothing close to how he had felt before ripping off part of the old man's soul. Nicolas crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He cast Animadverte, this time focusing it inwardly and watching it map out his soul. Lines formed and crossed, reminding him of veins and arteries, but these held radiant light in hues of blue, yellow, and green. Flecks of red would appear only to be swallowed up by the other lights. Nicolas watched intently, focusing on it, harmonizing with it, and tracing the mana as it circulated throughout his body. 

Nicolas opened his eyes. He no longer was in the dark, dank room, but instead amongst balls of light. It was both light and dark, good and evil, right and wrong. A soul is neither of these things and all of them at once. He was in the Astral. The colors dimmed as he watched. Nicolas tried to speak but no words came out. The lights had dimmed, almost blinking out of existence. The Voice spoke. 

You have talent , boy. Talent squandered by those insufferable curs at that sad excuse of a college. 

The dimmed lights flickered brightly as the Voice spoke, as if it's speaking forced mana back into them. The lights were in four spheres. They floated loosely near each other in almost a ‘v’ formation. Blue for the two forming the top of the ‘v’ and yellow for the lines of the ‘v’.

It took the priest almost ten years to be able to even be able to hear my instructions. Ten years of pulling and nudging until he finally understood to drink from the cup. You understood immediately to do so. If you have a question, speak now for you may only hold this form for a short time. Your soul may not be able to find its shell if it is gone for too long. 

The soul takes the shape of whatever shell it inhabits. It is a fundamental law in the study of the Astral Arts. While the use of mana to hold a shape is possible, it is too cost effective to be used more than a few minutes at a time. Anything beyond that, the caster runs the risk of a ‘crack’ forming and their soul leaking out. It could be as slow as a leaky tap or as fast as a dam breaking. It entirely depended on the density at which Nicolas had applied his mana. 

Nicolas thought for a moment. The swirling balls of brightening and dimming light gave him an idea, but if he was wrong it was about to drastically shorten his time on this plane. He called forth the Animadverte, feeling the mana shift from forming a thick shell to almost paper thin. He focused it into his left hand. The light formed, a lit match compared to the stars, the Voice was using. He focused, the light grew. 

"Who are you?"

The moment Nicolas asked the question, he dropped the spell, trying to absorb the unspent mana back into his shell. If he hurried, he might be able to get back an extra thirty seconds. Enough time to gather one more piece of the puzzle. 

The Voice rumbled.

I have been called many things over the millennia. Skybreaker. Cloudweaver. The Last Sunset. The Immortal. The Scaled Rot. Halfling of the Horde. And now, your Lord. 

Nicolas knew he was out of time. He had lasted as long as he could, but the risk of staying was too great. He felt as his soul was called back, his vision of the four orbs was fading. Suddenly, at the lowest part of the ‘v’ a line formed in crimson. It forced itself open, swirls of what looked like blood flowed in it. 

Xestial.

Blackness flooded Nicolas's vision, as the lights faded into nothing. Nicolas opened his eyes, back in the dark room. Ragnar had lit torches, bathing the dingy room in paltry light compared to the Astral Plane. The Priest was off in another chamber, reciting the Rites of Ahlera, at the behest of his Lord. His Lord. Nicolas mulled over the words. 

“Your Lord.” 

Xestial's words felt like an earthquake in his mind, shaking his thoughts to the core. Every thought, except that unending red orb of light that hadn't left his thoughts since leaving the Astral Plane.

1821 September Thursday 6 [partial]

In which Anne lectures Tib on her judgment and reference is made to some drama with Col. Hotham (more will follow).

....then afterwards to my uncle and aunt all which interrupted near a couple of hours --- wrote however 3 pages all crossed and the ends and sent off the letter at 4 20/60 to Isabella Norcliffe (Will[ia]m Vallance’s Esq[uire]; Sittingbourne, Kent).  Animadverted in about one and half page on the bad judgement of her going thro’ Selby to avoid York and seeing her sister Mary.  Tib ought not to suffer herself to quarrel and after what she told me about Colonel Hotham she ought not to seem to turn her back on Mary,'To whom the strong and steady support of all her family may possibly have already become indispensable.' --- Mentioned my having fixed to be at Croft October 12 and my wish wish to spend a few days with the Duffins; if possible at Langton, 2 or 3 days at Sherington and then bring Isabella Norcliffe back with me very early in November --- went down stairs at 4 50/60 --- For 1/2 hour before 6, walked on the terrace --- [notations on venereal complaint] --- In the evening from 8 1/2 to 10, read aloud from page 65 to 107 on Chimneys and from page 396 to 416 on Butter, end of volume 2 Beckmann’s history of Inventions and Discoveries vide my book journal of 1817 or 1818, when I read this work at Market Weighton ---  It began to rain about 2, and continuing most of the afternoon --- wet evening---with a few flashes of lightning --- Barometer 1 ¼ degree below changable  Fahrenheit 64 ½° at 8 25/60 p.m.  Came upstairs at 11.  [notations on venereal complaint] 

I forgot to mention to you, that I was informed, by a man of veracity, that two persons came to the stake to drink a glass of the criminal's blood, as an infallible remedy for the apoplexy.  And when I animadverted in the company, where it was mentioned, on such a horrible violation of nature, a Danish lady reproved me very severely, asking how I knew that it was not a cure for the disease? adding, that every attempt was justifiable in search of health.  I did not, you may imagine, enter into an argument with a person the slave of such a gross prejudice.

Mary Wollstonecraft, Letters Written During a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway, And Denmark. 1796