The Laboratories, Royal City
Gloved hands fluttered deftly from one side of the panel to the next, pressing buttons, bringing up vitals, hitting the occasional switch here and there. All was turning out as expected so far; the charts displayed a steady decline in readings from the subject, yes, but with every moment, with every inch that the line dove, the gathered magical essence grew in amount. Glancing up from his work, black eyes took in the orb before him for a few moments. Silver had begun to trickle in from the various pipes and wires connected to it, sending wisps dancing and twisting freely about its prison.
Everything was as expected.
Once again, Dr. Lovette turned back to the various readings, and brought up the data of the current captive once again. A lion shifter, this time. A male in his prime, brought down from the forests by one of the Northerners. From what the file had said, he had put up quite the fight; taking down a few with him before getting subdued. A prime candidate for the extraction; not only did these types tend to provide more aether than others, but they tended to hold a larger chance of surviving the initial process.
The withdrawals, however, tended to be...harsher.
Absentmindedly, Madison began to chew on his lip, taking care not to smear the lipstick there as he continued to watch the container glow with the rich essence within it. Monitoring was not necessary at this point- the machines had finished its calculations by now, after all. The only thing that was left was to take care of the little details left after the procedure. After a few more minutes had ticked by, the scientist quickly flicked one more switch, shutting down the flow and sealing off the orb so nothing could escape. A few more moments, careful eyes scanning each pipeline to ascertain that there were no leaks before letting up in their searching.
Taking up his clipboard from a nearby table, Lovette walked out of the room, discarding his gloves in the process. Of course, they had been fairly unnecessary throughout the whole thing, but it was a force of habit that brought him to wear them day-in and day-out. Madison paused for a moment, flicking off the lights- and leaving the room bathed in little more than a pale silvery glow-, and walking out before properly shutting the door behind him.
Now, came the truly hard part; dealing with the subject.
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The Grove
Man said that pride was one of the deadliest sins that one could bear within their heart. That it stemmed to other such sins, other problems, and lead to danger and the downfall of those harboring it. However, was it so wrong to feel this way for the home that had he had known for so long? Inhaling deeply, Azrael gazed out onto the rising Grove, watching as the sunβs rays came to rest upon it. Warming them all.
It was absolute perfection, and it was theirs. A true gift from the Gods.
Releasing the breath he had been holding, the druid stretched his arms out widely, as if embracing the soft light, the air, the world itself. He bidded them all his own good morning, and, with a slight smile upon his face, Azrael bent to pick his walking stick from the ground before turning and making his way back to the village. While he had already finished his duties for the morning, and while the break had certainly been nice, there was always more work that needed to be done. More spells that needed to be cast for the Groveβs protection, more prophecies to be seen, more events to be delegated.
The work of the druids would never be fully done. Until this war was over and the forest could stand for itself could they truly rest.
Tapping his walking stick about the cobblestone walkways, Azrael continued to walk, deciding to make a few rounds now that he had arrived.