X FROST 120
It wasn’t like Thysbae was unfamiliar with the practice of aether siphoning.
While his mother was alive, she’d explained some of it to him. Mostly through insults and using metaphors that likened him to a leech, but there had been some sort of...talking about what it was. Still, talking was different from putting it into practice. Practice was also something that had been barred to him for so long. Not until he’d somehow convinced his mother to allow it. Baby steps. Tiny, incremental steps that lead to this moment.
The area that Dreyfus had lead him to was one that he’d seen once on his tour of the estate. He’d not, before this, had reason to venture there on his own and he’d almost forgotten its existence. It remained in the back of his mind, though. Likely in anticipation for this day. He swallowed, wiped sweaty palms against his trousers and fidgeted with his shirt. There weren’t doing anything that would exert him too much; he was still a little weaker than was probably good for him to be doing anything too strenuous.
He wasn’t sure how this would work. Or what, exactly, they would be doing for him to practice. Perhaps it would be something simple with one of his magics? Bae hadn’t asked, up to this point, what those were, but he knew them to be more than one. The reconciliation that had delivered him to the Monteliyet estate had spoken about it briefly amongst themselves. He’d not linked that to his arrival shortly after.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the next, he looked back to Dreyfus, a question in his expression. Many, many questions. But he really ought to just start with one.
“L-lord Dreyfus, does This One have to try to fight you?” He glanced down at his much smaller hands, then back to the man. “He doesn’t know if he can.” Spindly limbs and stumbling legs that just barely passed the test of holding him upright. Surely, he’d be no match for the man that towered over him. A short thrill of fear passed through him at the prospect of having to potentially engage in an altercation with anyone close to Dreyfus’ stature.
Was this how his ancestors had learned the ways of aether siphoning? Through combat? He found himself terrified.
While his mother was alive, she’d explained some of it to him. Mostly through insults and using metaphors that likened him to a leech, but there had been some sort of...talking about what it was. Still, talking was different from putting it into practice. Practice was also something that had been barred to him for so long. Not until he’d somehow convinced his mother to allow it. Baby steps. Tiny, incremental steps that lead to this moment.
The area that Dreyfus had lead him to was one that he’d seen once on his tour of the estate. He’d not, before this, had reason to venture there on his own and he’d almost forgotten its existence. It remained in the back of his mind, though. Likely in anticipation for this day. He swallowed, wiped sweaty palms against his trousers and fidgeted with his shirt. There weren’t doing anything that would exert him too much; he was still a little weaker than was probably good for him to be doing anything too strenuous.
He wasn’t sure how this would work. Or what, exactly, they would be doing for him to practice. Perhaps it would be something simple with one of his magics? Bae hadn’t asked, up to this point, what those were, but he knew them to be more than one. The reconciliation that had delivered him to the Monteliyet estate had spoken about it briefly amongst themselves. He’d not linked that to his arrival shortly after.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the next, he looked back to Dreyfus, a question in his expression. Many, many questions. But he really ought to just start with one.
“L-lord Dreyfus, does This One have to try to fight you?” He glanced down at his much smaller hands, then back to the man. “He doesn’t know if he can.” Spindly limbs and stumbling legs that just barely passed the test of holding him upright. Surely, he’d be no match for the man that towered over him. A short thrill of fear passed through him at the prospect of having to potentially engage in an altercation with anyone close to Dreyfus’ stature.
Was this how his ancestors had learned the ways of aether siphoning? Through combat? He found himself terrified.
