Thread: University of Corsini - [GD x Lysander of Rhodes]

Magic. Magic was power. Entire dynasties were built around the control of magic, shaping the course of the world, choosing when and why magic was used. Entire fields of crops that would have taken an entire season to grow sprouted to maturity overnight a building that would take years to construct snapped together in a day an army that would topple a king dropped dead with the snap of a finger. History was full of these stories, both wondrous and violent, stacked atop one another in an endless race to see where it all would end. Konrad didn't care for history. He found the study of the past not only boring but ultimately pointlessthe future was built upon the past, much like how a foundation provides the base for a house. The foundation is buried and hidden away, its presence merely inferred by the fact that the true goal, the house, is standing. No one cares about the foundation. Konrad was not the laborer setting the stones of the foundation, he was the architect designing the house. Only this house was special. Beyond sight and sound, closed by a barrier so immaterial it did not even exist in the most literal sense of the word, there was another universe. A universe of unbridled and unimaginable energy, untapped and ready to be used, if one could reach it. That was fundamental principle of transdimensional thaumaturgy, what the layman called magic, which so few in these so-called enlightened days failed to understand. Just as the real universe had rules which determined how and why and when things happened, this unreal universe had rules of its own, natural laws that kept a natural order. Konrad was studying those natural laws at their deepest levels, learning not only how to bend those laws but possibly even someday breaking them. He wasn't the only Thaumaturgist trying, of course, but they were not him, were they? Unlike those elites whose pedigrees were filled with Naturalists, those that could tap into that unreal universe as a matter of birth, the name Konrad Wolff meant nothing. There were no counts or dukes or kings or princely merchants among his family. A common name for a common family. Yet here Konrad was, sitting in the ornate meeting chamber of the University of Corsini's Seventh Council, so named for the seven members which comprised the group of aged and wizened and antiquated Thaumaturgists. Unlike many of Konrad's peers he had never taken a Neophyte during his early years at he prestigious university, believing he never needed a little puppy to follow him around and leech on his natural connection to the source of all magic. By all social conventions he should have taken an apprentice nearly ten years ago at least, yet now he was nearly thirty-six and approaching his Master Doctorate in Transubstantiative Thaumaturgy. The elites one found at Corsini enjoyed, if not reveled, at the idea of having a willing servant essentially dependent upon their good graces. No, Konrad didn't revel in the idea. He was enthralled by it, which was the problem. The power he could have over another person, willingly given, not because of something mundane as a pedigree, but by the virtue of his natural gifts. It was the purest power next to magic itself. And that, in part, repulsed him. He did not want to be like those ivory tower boys, petulant and demanding and lacking the imagination of a true Thaumaturgist. They disgusted him. By fate or designed, however, the sister of one of those elite families was now his Neophyte. After the council was adjourned, Konrad left the council chambers with his new apprentice not far behind. The young woman, barely even an adult by most standards, stormed up to him atop her heels that gave her meager height only the slightest boost. Konrad smirked a little. What a strange pair they were, with him towering over the dark-haired Eloni Kennicot, his blond hair curled atop a head that reach well over six feet and several inches. She was dressed finely in an exquisite robe and matching attire. Konrad dressed comfortably. He preferred a vest with a simple undershirt, coupled with a cravat or widened tie, and pants that would not cost him a fortune. It was respectable, even in fashion among some circles, but not among those with wealth. I agree, he replied after Eloni abruptly spoke to him, which is why we will keep this simple and to the point. I'll let you freeload off my connection to the transmagos while I go about completing my doctorate unhindered . I will teach you when needed, but beyond that I don't care for you or want you anymore than you wanted me, Miss Kennicot. He locked eyes with Eloni, his dark blue orbs not faltering for a moment. Now that that is out of the way, I am sure your family has paid an exorbitant amount for your private room here at Corsini and you want to see it as soon as possible. Say hello to your brothers for me, whichever one is still here. Konrad took a step forward and brushed past Eloni as if he would a child, tightening his black gloves around his hands and reaching for the pocket watch he kept his vest pocket. It was just past noon. He needed to ready his paradigms by two o'clock if he was going to get the data required for his research, and this silly little meeting had cut into his preparation stage enough already.