Averill

Shall we start our story again? Where did we leave our traveller last time? Oh yes! He left the village to find a place where he would be accepted and understood. Now we will find out if he was able to make the slander of men fall from his image. His long wanderings lasted, his desire to find shelter in a foreign land pushed him onwards. And by his side, the cat walked tirelessly. A mirage, the belief that his good friend was near even after she left him in that forest forever. His steps seem too slow, perhaps he should have taken a break hours ago, but it's too late for regrets. His feet go forward on their own, as if mechanically. It's worth pushing yourself until you fall, such thoughts often haunted him. And especially it was all reinforced with the Ancient magic that raged, running through his body and blood. They always kept him going, never giving up on what he had started. Even if the thought was the silliest of thoughts - the magic made it many times more important, making a big deal out of it. The mountain seemed so big, so mysterious. But he could definitely see an indentation at the top, and there must be a cave there. He can rest there for a few days, and then he'll go on to gather herbs. The main thing is not to be seen by the guards, who now follow him around, making sure that he does not go into other villages and burn them down. A hysterical laugh breaks out at these thoughts, but it stops immediately. Emotions are crushing, the magic feeds on them and amplifies them, taking strength. There's the backtrack, perfect. The cave is indeed there, and Averill falls to the cool earth, forgotten in his dreams, nightmares that will make you jump up and run as far away as possible. The gathering of herbs goes on as usual, only more quietly and in a new location. The bag is finally getting heavy and he can be calm. A loud shout breaks the silence, horses trampling the ground and rushing towards him. A heavy sigh and the word "Damnation"

out of his mouth, and he's on the run. The mage didn't go into villages, didn't ask people for help, didn't commit crimes. So what's the reason for the chase this time? His legs hurt, and can such a weak man run the necessary amount? Apparently, the guards had guessed the right moment when his strength would run out and he would be unable to resist. Weakness was indeed strong, and it had failed him. After a few minutes the body lay on the ground, but quickly rose. One must resist with magic. As much as he didn't want to harm, given his shattered core, he needed to escape. As the people came closer, his left arm rose up and the tattoo glowed. A stream of magic burst from the hand, hitting several unfortunate people and causing those to fall off their horses. No, no one was dead soon they would get up, but for now they needed to run. Waving his hand and stretching it, the young man turned around and started to run. Just until he was hit by another man's arrow. Time to serve the punishment for his sins, which he never had on his soul. His body is lifted up and dragged along the ground. *** A terrible pain strikes his body as his eyes open. Where is he now? It's too dark to do anything. His eyes still weren't used to the darkness, and admittedly, his eyesight had been failing lately. Apparently, the effects of magic were not going away. He hadn't been able to sort out his abilities, hadn't discovered new things about himself. And he had a lot of possibilities, we tell you that for sure! Who would just live without the heat of Ancient Magic besides this foolish man? Surely not you, everyone would have had time to develop their talents. Eyes getting used to the darkness, it would eventually become clear where he had been thrown. It was a prison that had always seemed far away to him. The walls were cold, and in general it was worth noting that his place of confinement was underground, where magic could not work much, even though it was natural magic.

And apparently before he came here, his abilities were limited to defence spells. His hands feel heavy and icy. The handcuffs and chains cling tightly to them, making me shake with all my thoughts. How could he have got here, why? Every thought ate at him, somewhere deep inside loomed the most important but so unattainable 'calm down'. Chaos makes his head stop thinking, nervous laughter shaking the earthen walls of his place of confinement. It seems he will go insane sooner or later, left to rot where he shouldn't be. Apparently, this is how the fate of an initially promising, hopeful mage should end. Wild magic boils, making his thoughts confused again, stirring in the cauldron of the most important plan of revenge, hatred for the people who framed him. A loud scream is heard almost everywhere, hands crashing into the wall, trying as if to dig himself out. The hysteria continues to take over, he is unable to stop himself on his own. After a few hours, the guard comes in and sees only a body that has shrunk and fallen asleep. It is useless, all plans for life are lost, there is no way out of here. *** Another morning, tired eyes staring into emptiness, and next to him sits such a nice cat that rubs against his arms, making him pet her. She warms him making him lose himself in his thoughts and forget where he is right now. Once again he is disturbed by the visions with his girlfriend, the guard only sighs, getting used to this behaviour of the mage caught three years ago. Apparently the earth chamber was taking away the last bits of intelligence that might have appeared. The prisoner paid attention to the food only after two hours, and without much mood. The blank stare drifts away again. He was in no mood to eat today, something seemed to be bothering him after all. Your clothes are all dirty, aren't they? You should cook something tasty for your favourite, she must be tired of the constant boring food, which does not please the appetite of even the least fastidio

The guard leaves the place, wanting the warmth of the sun at last, forgetting that the prisoners will never see him again. They're all here for the rest of their lives, maybe forever. But who's to say they won't go insane in that amount of time. The mage smiles and strokes the cat again, thinking of the plants still waiting for him in his native forest. But all his thoughts are disturbed by a quiet laughter that only touches his ears. The young man shakes his bare head, trying to push it away, thinking that what he heard is not real. It is only when the cat disappears that he realises that this laughter alone is a snippet of the real that has broken into his thoughts. - Maybe you should live up to their expectations. Become the person they make you out to be," the voice inquires of him, waiting for an answer. Averill blinks, looking around the room. No one was here, but the voice was so close, as if the person wasn't that far away from him. - What's the point? It won't get me anything back, silly," he finally hears the answer, reasonably considered. But still, the voice's suggestion doesn't sound strange, on the contrary, as if it were tempting. And then he begins to bite his lip, realising that Ancient Magic only needs just such thoughts to take away the remnants of his mind. - There's always a point! You don't want to stay here for the rest of your life, do you? Besides, wouldn't it be easier to return the favour? I think it's a reasonable retribution for their belief in your guilt," the voice reasoned, suggesting its thoughts to the mage without a shadow of a doubt. And he realises that he will never again get out of the web of these thoughts, where his new acquaintance, even if invisible, is driving him. A drop of blood from his lips falls onto his hand, standing out brightly. A heavy sigh and he rises from his knees. Agreeing to do anything to get out, just to hurt these people. The voice chuckles and a man appears in front of him, shaking his hand happily.

Here is another evening when they sit happily by the cliff, on the grass. Every thing they do is unforgettable, it seems like he would live like this forever. And what would have happened if he had said no that time? Now he is happy that those people are finally gone, no pests who pollute this world with their mere sight. In time, even breathing has become easier, as if he hadn't been in prison for three years, hadn't had the constant hallucinations. The creature that had pulled him out was Rumpelstiltskin. A little later the mage learnt his story and was glad to meet him, after all, having such interesting personalities around is always interesting, isn't it? A picture of disfigured faces flashed before his eyes, his heel digging into his cheek with force, but not doing any serious damage, only making him whimper. Why hadn't he thought of that before, why hadn't he decided to hurt those people himself? Maybe the magic wasn't affecting him as much at that point, who knows. But what we can say for sure is that in all this time he never revealed all his skills. His friend tried to help, but as if reluctant, always wary of something. It was annoying, but Averill usually agreed that he was done with his experiments for the day. He knew how to store energy, how to use the flow of magic, but he had not invented his own techniques. He'd do it someday, surprise Rumple and make him happy, right? To hell with it, whether he was happy or not, he had to learn. A heavy sigh was heard under his ear, and the young man turned his head towards his mate with interest, looking as if to ask what could have caused such a sigh. - You know, there's something I should say. Listen and don't interrupt," he said the last words more firmly and confidently than usual. Averill was wary, and then he got up from the ground and sat down on a rock that was nearby.

Then it was as if it were all a blur. He listened and stared at the comrade who was betraying their principle, what he himself had taught him. As it turned out, he had been invited to be a teacher at the famous Academy that trained children, the young offspring of the fairy eternalists. His face twisted at those words. Would Rumplestiltskin really be willing to go to that institution, to give up everything, including him? Could some children really be so much more interesting than what they were committing? When he finished listening, he instantly stood up from the stone and with a stream of magic struck the one who always seemed so interesting, ready for any and all ventures. He only grimaced and showed the paper that confirmed that he was hired and his past sins were forgotten. The young mage studied the paper, wanting nothing more than to burn it to hell. So someone who always seemed interesting turned out to be a puppet in someone else's hands? How disgusting. Turning on his heels, the mage waved his hand and disappeared. No longer was he going to know the one who had abandoned him. Why would he want such a weakling in his company? He will carry on with everything he believes in, do as much for the people as they have done for him.

*** Good morning! Food's on the table, you know, right? I made you a delicious pie, for God's sake! You should try it, it won't get cold, and I'll be back tonight. What happened next? Let me tell you! Everything went just fine, I don't see any problem with people like Rumpelstiltskin leaving. Showed that I can make something of myself, thank you very much. There could be millions of such traitors! If he hadn't left, would I have been able to develop my abilities, realise what I needed? I don't think it would have worked. But whether I forgave him is a good question, we'll deal with that later, shall we? When I come to you to see how my dear friend is doing. And I'll check out your golden, lauded headman of goodness! I believe he's the son of Aurora, the Princess who was saved again with a kiss and eternal love? In any case, I'd really like to meet the one he's replaced me with, no more than that, of course.

What had our young martyr looked like before? Before the events of the explosion and the settlement of magic in his body, he considered himself quite unremarkable, someone who would not be noticed. And he never wanted to stand out, even his clothes often looked dull and grey, but comfortable at the time. Several long years had passed since that event, which he had spent both quite entertaining and not so entertaining at the same time. His raven-wing black hair had taken on a different hue, emphasising and standing out. Some strands had turned a deep, bluish hue. Normally this always made him stand out and was often listed as a distinguishing feature in many rumours about this mage. But somehow they could never catch him, even knowing the obvious signs. Who knows what this young man has in store for you? Hair length reaches down to his shoulder blades, perhaps a little lower. Never thought of cutting it off, for to him it has some special value. His face may appear a little pale, for of late he has seldom been outdoors, sitting only in his private place. He only comes out when he needs information or materials for his work. As it was before, he still collects herbs, but whether for healing or for other purposes, no one knows. He doesn't particularly like the light, so he only comes out at night. His eyes seem ordinary enough, though they stand out against the dark background of it all. Oh, and there's a feature crossing the eye that draws more attention than one would like. They are a cloudy amber hue, usually staring into the void, so you wouldn't say that a fire of faith and hope could be lit in them. There is a scar on the left side of his face, which is habitually nestled near his eye.

It seems quite deep, it hasn't been treated or treated for a long time, so it feels like it's just a rotting spot. To this day, Averill tries to get the scar out, or at least make it less noticeable with magic. It is this reminder of the past that annoys even more than the colouring of his hair and some of the features on his skin. Maybe by bringing it all out, he wants to insinuate to himself that his mate is still around? Though he'll never forget her anyway, and she in turn won't leave him even in his nightmares, let alone in real life. His lips are often painted a shade of black, or a deep purple that you wouldn't be able to guess from afar. It seems to have become his habit, he can't go out without it. On top of that, his eyesight was starting to deteriorate due to his frequent use of magic, and the fire had taken its toll. Now he wears glasses, they are a bit rectangular in shape and almost never leave his face. He is afraid of making a mistake in calculations without them, what can you do? In his ears you can often see earrings, usually with a blue stone inside. What about his clothes? Our young man is extremely selective in this matter, but he knows which shades suit him best. At work, he usually does not wear anything so bright, just a jumper and jeans, and a white dressing gown on top. Of course, he wants to combine grace and work, but he doesn't want to get anything dirty. It's better to stay in your hiding place in rags, and then change your image to something else that is more sympathetic. What do you see on him? Mostly he happily chooses red shirts with pretty puffy sleeves at the ends. It seems that he can't find a more beautiful colour for him.The shirt features gold patterns that run from the chest to the shoulders, including the beginning of the sleeves. The shirt is usually tucked into high rise jeans. The belt also stands out, there is a large plaque on it.

Usually the bottom of it is decorated in black colours, better to draw attention to the face rather than the legs, right? But from the belt on the jeans there are gold chains, about three of them. On the legs you can see high boots, but it is already recognisable if you look closely, because the length is hidden behind the jeans. What about his skin features? It is worth noting that he does have them, again thanks to the ancient magic that literally settled in him. Its power flows through his veins along with his blood, causing his strength to rage and his spiritual core to never return to normal. Though the destruction of the core doesn't hinder him in terms of magic no, maybe a little in the physical when he has to grab his chest and settle to the ground. His left arm has always been the leading arm as we told you in the story, so it has taken on the major changes. All over his arm you can see a tattoo, but not the usual one, no, it affects magic and shows when that one is engaged. The tattoo lies in bluish-black waves and when magic is used it glows with a golden light. Especially helps in moments when you need to draw a spell in the air, and the golden thread from the tattoo stretches and draws everything. Really mesmerising, but dangerous to some extent a spectacle that is not given to see not everyone. Based on all of the above, we can say that the magic affected most of the left side of the magician, where there is a tattoo and a scar near the eye.

Well, his character became more and more unstable over time. Perhaps, it is a matter of experienced events of the past, but nevertheless in one state you cannot observe him all day long, something is bound to change and surprise you. As he himself says, it all depends on the work and the person next to him, because on the background of someone more cheerful he can look like a frowning, disgruntled bird ready to hit his head on the nearest tree, just to finish the conversation. Speaking of talking! He doesn't know how to listen for long if the topic isn't interesting, so he thinks it's adequate to just get up and leave if he doesn't want to change the subject. What's so interesting about listening to the ramblings of an unintelligent person, right? Extremely impatient, so if you have come to tell him something, you should do it faster, do not delay. Especially it brings him those moments when you chew up all the moments and events that led you to him. Closer to the point, as they say. Basically may strike you as the kind of person who is always in a hurry and ready to give you a show you didn't ask for. Let's touch on that side of his character when he is in a more elevated mood. Usually at times like this he might be reminiscing about his girlfriend, so don't get too mad if he turns his back on you and starts talking to nothing. In this he finds some solace in his life, is it hard to let an unhappy person talk to someone they want to talk to? During this period he is not really ready to listen and often interrupts, thinking that his story will be much more interesting to you. He also often makes some potions in such a state, which he calls the most working one. And yet, even in this state he will not tell you about his plans, because it is banally stupid, and it is not possible to reveal all the intrigue?

Otherwise, his state of mind is rather calm and apathetic. If he listens to you, it is often as if he falls into a dream and asks you to repeat everything again, if you decide to check whether he is attentive. Often thinks about the past, so happy at such times and can not be called happy. This period is characterised by the production of calculations of his work, and not in general the process of recreating in reality. He sits for long periods of time writing, and also tries to find more sensible ways to develop the magic that now seems to be tied to his heart by thin threads. But there are also moments when he was somewhere in between. Willing to listen to you, to answer the questions asked. Overall, you can tell that he's a pretty good mentor in terms of magic, for he spends a lot of time on his own training, and probably yours as well, if he likes you. Serious about giving people just the right information, not what anyone can tell you. Sideways about his actions and skills never stops at what he has been able to achieve. In any case, it is better to come to him in those periods when he is a constituent image between two states, maybe then he will be able to open you the veil of secrecy on his life. He doesn't seem to be very vindictive by nature, and perhaps not so cheerful, but his every thought and emotion can be magnified into the most powerful manifestation, magic gives it a boost.

For example, if you take his attitude to revenge - he would not have gone for such a thing before, but the Ancient One makes him do it to defend his position and prove to everyone that no one has the right to judge him, to hurt him. It's like she's whispering to him what to do, engaging in a kind of support for a man long lost in grief, but she never does anything kind. Apparently absorbed his hatred for humans when they burned down the forest. So most of his emotions are simply out of control, unless he himself is at peace. We advise in such a case not to anger him too much, and especially not to make him wait, because sooner or later you will pay for it