Chapter 4: Finishing Touches

         Grunts and muffled screaming could be heard down the hall as this blonde man in decorative robes is rhythmically tapping a stick with a type of paint onto Rowan's body. Now with Rowan able to regain some control of his body, is able to shift and move his head to gain a better view. He sees that the cause of the stabbing pain is in fact an old style of tattoo craft. Each of these tattoos are a script of runes that have been printed all over his body, his clothes cut apart as to not get in the way of the procedure.

Rowan winces his head back slamming the table as he breathes through the impromptu gag binding. "Keep moving and I will have to make you sit still again creature." The blonde man interrupts his chant, "If I have to stop for too long I'll have to start over." He then resumes the Incantation while sticking Rowan's abdomen, "Nourish thy vessel, bring it life." About an hour of enchanting and trying to keep still, Rowan's stomach shifts, his chest tenses and pulses and he begins to visibly shake on the table.

The blonde man rolls his eyes and presses his thumb on Rowan's forehead, "Halt in place". A familiar sensation hits Rowan, once more as he is unable to move his body but still feels the sharp pain and cramps. "Well now that I have you still, I might as well finish these runes." The monocled man says with sarcastic empathic tone as he starts sticking Rowan on the right side of his face. From the middle of the cheek to above the hair line, "Be brought to heel", he continues chanting as more time passes more and more chanting and inscribing is done.

With each new inscription new developments happen to Rowan's body, the cramps come and go but the stabbing pain is a constant. The blonde man finishes his latest work and takes a step back to appreciate his work, with a sigh of accomplishment and wiping sweat from his brow. The man prepares a cup from his desk then takes a seat, "My cup runneth" he chants as his finger circles the rim of the cup. He then raises his cup to celebrate to an invisible crowd and takes a sip.

Rowan now able to move once more glares daggers at the man hoping whatever things he has done to him might actually conjure daggers from his eyes. The monocled man takes another delightful sip at Rowan's suffering, "You are getting better at that, look at you, I gathered you learned how to focus so you can be with us in real time?" 

"The spirits truly blessed us with a wonderful servant!" The man toasts once more then takes a hearty sip from his cup downing the rest of its contents. "Now that we are taking a break and letting your enhancements settle, we might as well have a proper introduction." The man raises a hand and gives a seated bow, "Magi Braxen at your displeasure, now what should I call this creature?" Braxen ponders out loud. Rowan grunts name through the gag, "Quiet 24601!" Braxen snaps at Rowan as he rises from his chair.

He then walks and looms over Rowan as he grabs him on the chin to force eye contact. "That is your name unless you do end up living to your potential, then your name will be promoted to 21405" Braxen throws Rowan's face down on to the table. "And if I like you then you will become, number 7." With a menacing grin Braxen preps another cup and takes a seat once more. "You should be aware of what it is we ask of you so you don't become anymore difficult." Braxen comments then sips his cup. "You are going to be trained in service of the royal family, we will set you up as a forward position with others like yourself." Braxen circles the rim of his cup. "We've been tasked to collect candidates for our soldiers, so I had a running thesis", Braxen stands and draws his attention to a chalkboard behind Rowan above his head.

"We summon spirits with great potential to be Magi, break and bind them to our control, and then delegate them to solve our petty problems." Braxen clenches his fist with great enthusiasm. "While we are at it I get to be blessed to play with new creatures such as yourself!" He pinches Rowan's cheeks rubbing them back and forth. "So be a good little fawkes and survive your first few engagements, and you will get more things to look forward to, what do you say?" Braxen removes the gag and Rowan relaxes his jaw slowly chomping at the air. "But what if I don't want to?" Rowan asks cautiously. "You don't have that choice anymore, its either do or perish." Braxen explains frankly.

"Heel", Braxen commands, and the runes on Rowan's face shine a dim glow as he stiffens up and tries to move his body through the bindings to a stance of attention with eyes facing forward. "I didn't need to incant any spells now, that was just me saying the commands", Braxen steps to the side where Rowan's runes glowed and swipes his finger on Rowan's chin. "And you follow", Braxen laughs to himself looking so accomplished at his work. He sits down once again at his desk, "Now fret not I did more than just put a collar on you, I have improved your base form."

Braxen explains further, "I've made you stronger, faster on your feet, enhanced your reflexes, able to retain more thoughts and memories, I even improved your physique." Rowan takes that moment to look over his body, his gut is a lot more thinner than he remembered, arms still large but with a lot more muscle to them. "Well I do have one more enchantment that I wanted to save for last so it can make a imprint on your whole being." Braxen stands and get his tools ready and undoes the bindings. "Turn over", He commands and Rowan compulsively flips over on his stomach exposing his back.

Braxen rips the last rags of Rowan's uniform showing his bare back to the Magi, Braxen then begins a new inscription and incantation. "What undone, shall be renew", the rhythmic sticking starts from the top of Rowan's spine trailing down to the tail bone. after an hour of stabbing and chanting Braxen is finished. He sets his tools down and gestures Rowan to come. "Come now, stand up." Rowan rises from the table, legs almost giving out but he braces his arm on the table wincing in pain. "I will be sending you to be with rest of your new friends", Braxen walks out of the room while beckoning Rowan to follow.

Rowan stands and limps towards him, defeat and anger swelling his being, he catches up behind the Magi and temptation takes over. Rowan reaches forward to grab Braxen, desires to snap his neck intensify as everything goes limp again and falls to the ground. "Every, time", groans Braxen as he turns around and kicks Rowan in the stomach. "At least wait till you come back from war before you start with that!" He continues kicking. "Don't you worry, I will give you a real reason to want to bring me to harm!" Braxen yells as he then grabs Rowan by the last strands of hair that got missed and stands him up then slaps him. "Follow! Now!" The Magi walks further in the stone hallway not caring about the creature's well being.

Rowan is brought to a large stone holding cell with a reinforced metal door with a small slide on the bottom. "Heel!" Braxen yells with a booming voice causing Rowan to stand at attention, Braxen then opens the door and gestures. Rowan takes a compulsive step inside and the door closes behind him. "Now play nice my fawkes, your tasks will be revealed soon enough." Braxen leaves and the room is dark and silent with stilted breathes that can be heard in the room, Rowan is not alone.