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Nervous excitement thrummed through Bren's chest, making him squirm as Master Ikithon secured and tightened the leather straps. First there was the thick strap that secured his torso to the back of the chair. Then there were two on each arm, one just below each elbow and then another one each wrist, keeping his exposed forearms secured.
"Hold still."
The command was spoken softly, but Bren could easily hear the disapproval. He did his best to obey, digging his fingernails into the arms of the chair. He had committed to this, to giving everything over for the service of the Empire and its people. He could do this.
Once Master Ikithon was done, he went on to do the same with Astrid and Eadwulf. Bren closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. They had already been warned that it was going to be a painful process, but it was necessary if they were to maximize their potential. Bren wanted this, more than anything.
"When we first met, you told me that your parents saw a spark in you."
Bren opened his eyes and looked up at Master Ikithon. He was holding a large green-blue crystal that seemed to have a soft glow. Master Ikithon slowly pulled his hands away, and the crystal floated just a few inches from Bren's chest, between his arms.
Then with a twist of the archmage's hands, the crystal shattered into dozens of smaller shards. They split and hovered around each arm before each shot inward and embedded deeply beneath his skin.
Bren grit his teeth, only letting out a small grunt at the assault. The pain was beyond expectation. It was not just the simultaneous piercing of jagged crystal, the crystals felt as if they were burning. Their natural glow seemed to undulate, and with it, fresh pain pulsated into his arm. Bren's head began to pound as well but not with pain. He could feel some sort of arcane power was being pumped into his body, and the brief moment of fear quickly transformed into unbridled excitement.
Master Ikithon stepped back and waved to a wooden target. "Show me the fire within you."
The corner of Bren's mouth twitched upward, the pain now fuel for that fire. He drew in a deep breath, gathering familiar arcane energy in the palms of his hands. The crystals glowed brighter beneath his skin as he did so, and the flames came hotter, easier than breathing. He held the flames there for just a moment, making sure to milk every drop of this newly imbued arcane power before releasing the bolt of fire.
The target was immediately consumed, instantly blackening and charring. It burned quickly and brightly, and Bren couldn't help but grin manically as it was quickly destroyed in seconds.
But then the crystals dulled, and a wave of exhaustion overcame him. Bren let out a shaky exhale as he slumped in his restraints. He blinked lethargically as he stared down at the tiny rivulets of blood tricking down his arms. Now that the arcane power was spent, all that was left was the pulsating pain, the initial sharp piercing turning into a draining throbbing ache.
Master Ikithon walked over, presumably to repeat the process with one of his compatriots. Bren tried to catch his breath, once again beginning to squirm. Beyond the pain, the sensation of several splinters buried in his flesh made his skin crawl. He tried to twist his arms in the restraints, but that made the crystals move, and the sense of wrongness and pain shot up his arms.
Bren bit his bottom lip hard. Hold still.
He just had to hold still.
Caleb let out a loud cry as let loose the second fireball. Thankfully, finally, the frost salamander went limp with a death screech, the skin charring and cracking.
There was a stretch of silence filled with just the crackling of the little bits of fire still burning bits of the corpse.
Then the torrents of ice that had been sprayed at them moments earlier made itself known. Caleb groaned as his knees buckled and he slumped to the ground, praying there was no other nearby danger. He felt moments from passing out, his entire body shaking violently. He was freezing, but his skin felt like it was on fire. There was also the horribly familiar sensation of sharp shards of something beneath his skin.
"Caleb!" Essek cried out with a harsh whisper, quickly limping over. He grabbed Caleb by the arm and hauled him back to his feet with surprising strength. "L-Let's find some cover..." he murmured. His grip on Caleb's arm was tight, but he was shaking as well.
Caleb struggled to see in these ruins in the best of circumstances, but all his mind could focus on was the feeling of the ice splinters in his exposed skin, particularly those that had pierced into his ungloved hand and up his sleeve into his forearm. He was only vaguely aware of Essek pushing them through a door into a half-ruined building.
Caleb's teeth were chattering as Essek helped him down to sit and lean against a wall. He shakily reached up to first swipe at his face to clear it before pulling his sleeve up. There were several tiny shards of ice sticking out of his skin. After taking two blasts of cold, even his blood was chilled to the point that the shards hadn't immediately melted away.
"Fu- fu- fu-...!" he stuttered, trying to grab at the shards to yank them out, but he was shaking so badly that all he could manage was to fumble around. The shards were disturbed and moved beneath his skin, sending shivers of wrongness down his spine.
"Alright, w-wait, wait..." Essek breathed, grabbing Caleb's gloved fumbling hand and gently pulling it back. "I-I can get them, just... try and hold still."
Caleb closed his eyes and took a deep breath before nodding, keeping his eyes shut. His stomach was squirming uncomfortably as he felt Essek grab further up above the shards to stabilize his arm before beginning to take them out one by one. With each one, there was just another twinge of movement beneath the skin before it was gone. Caleb couldn't help but wince with each one, but the anxious tension along his shoulders slowly dissipated with each extraction.
"Caleb?"
"Mm?"
"You alright now?"
Caleb's eyes fluttered open. He belatedly realized that all the shards were gone now. Essek was still holding his arm, his other hand slowly stroking along his cleared forearm and hand. His skin was still mostly numb, but it was slowly beginning beginning to warm with the caressing.
He let out a shaky breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. "J-Ja..." he whispered. "Ich, I-I mean, I just..." The words died on the tip of his tongue, staring down at Essek's hand that continued to stroke his arm. The fingertips were subtly brushing over the old scars.
After five long seconds of silence, Essek's hand froze and his shoulders tensed. "M-My apologies."
Just as Essek began to pull his hands back, Caleb quickly flicked his wrist to grab and stop him. "Please don't," he whispered in a panic.
There was a brief moment of tension, Essek having stilled but with a bit of a pull remaining. Then he relented, relaxing back and more purposefully grasping Caleb's arm and rubbing his thumbs over the scars. "We should rest, regardless," he muttered absentmindedly.
Caleb nodded, letting out a sigh through his nose as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, focusing on Essek's warm touch on his skin. What he should be doing was focusing on his arcane reserves to recover some of it, but he couldn't right now. Not with the echoing sensation of hard sharp material embedded in his flesh.
"I've... seen..."
Without moving his head, Caleb opened his eyes to look at Essek. The drow was carefully and purposefully turning Caleb's hand and arm over, still holding it as he traced his fingers over the scars. There was dawning recognition, and Essek's gaze dragged up from the arm to meet Caleb's eyes. "Trent?" he asked, barely audible.
Caleb nodded. "One of his experiments."
Essek's expression hardened with anger as he looked back down, his grip on Caleb's arm tightening. It wasn't painful. In fact it was a welcoming pressure, helping ground him further. Warm pressure on the surface of his skin instead of sharp pain beneath it.
The seconds stretched into minutes. Almost six minutes later, Caleb finally felt fully present. He reached to clasp a hand over one of Essek's hand with his free gloved hand. "Thank you, my friend."
The anger was still there, but it had softened in intensity at this point. At Caleb's words, it softened further as warm affection joined it. There was a comfortable moment where Essek leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. The lips lingered, and Caleb closed his eyes and smiled as he took it in, breathing in the smell of foreign herbs and ozone.
"Of course, Caleb Widogast."