The Lore of Arcanist Angus of the Tundra

The Candle

Burning on top of a white candle, a single flame danced with the breeze. Angus could stare at the flickering flame for hours, watching the flame dance. It drew him in, brought him peace, tranquility, and clarity. The candle in its many forms had been with him his whole life. From the moment he first opened his eyes with true sight he saw the flame. At first glance,  it had sat upon a deep red candle, slowly cascading a small stream of liquid wax down its side. The flame from that scarlett candle allowed him to see his mother for the first time. He smiled with the warmth that the memory gave him. He recalled another memory listening to his father whisper incantations as a candle burned. Then meals he ate with his brother were accompanied by a candle. The hours spent studying tomes and scrolls a candle constantly lit his path of thirst and knowledge. Thus it was a given that when Angus reached the status of Arcanist he imbued his magical essence into a candle. This single candle, pure white of body, stood about a hand's length on top of a gold candelabra. Black runes etched the side of the grip that seemed to devour the light in. The one, lone candle stood the same height, regardless of  how long the flame burned. The wax gave way, slowly rolling off the edge and down the body only to dissipate into nothingness as it touched the warm metal of the grip. In this, the candle held everything Angus felt and knew.

Our wizard was an honest man and thoughts of power or evil never made home in his mind, hence the pure white of the candle. What drove him was curiosity and the need to see and experience. The candle when lit cast its light into any corner, that was its purpose to bring sight with-in the darkness. Angus’s candle did just that and more, with a snap of his fingers the flame sprang to life and anywhere a candle burned it served as a window or door of transportation for Angus. Anywhere that basked in  candle light was now within his sight. Throughout the years he watched as wizards developed new magic, he spied on treachery of house politics, even the birth of a baby. Everything was now an open book to him, he was able to take in and watch all manners of life, and on occasion experiencing it for himself. When held, the candelabra opened a portal where Angus could step through and feel the cold stone floor of the secret tower, or bask in the warm breeze of Asmodeus’s surf.   Angus found pleasure watching the world unfold, rarely feeling the need to interfere.  It was not his role to take action, but to merely watch, sometimes experience, yet always to learn.  His pleasant nature, however, would not allow evils to go unhindered, which he intruded as indirectly as possible. There was a time where he thwarted an evil attempt to make a potion of blindness meant for some poor soul. Just as his sinister peer looked away he quickly dropped some rainbow dew and pixie dust into the brew, rendering it useless. So from his tower situated far into the cold tundra, Angus watched and experienced life.

Time passed. Births and deaths witnessed, then one day, as if on cue, it all changed. He had been studying when he heard the chime of bells. It sounded as though it was just a bit away, however regardless of which direction he turned it seemed to always come from behind him, just beyond his reach. He spent days researching mystic bells and weeks searching through candle light for this chime. He felt mad and exhausted, but sleep did not find him as he was haunted by his need. After cycles of sun and moon, peering by candle light, he felt it. Intense heat emitted. His hands shook as he grasped his candle. His eyes watered as a shape began to take form, a single flame dancing above a floating stone shaped like a rhombus. In its light, Angus saw a skull, a tulip and for some odd reason, he picked up the scent of raspberry jam filling the air. There were other items in his peripheral, strewn across the floor just beyond the flame’s light, but Angus could only focus on the single flame. The heat, the dance and the bells called to him. As he stepped closer he felt the darkness, the power and the dread held up in the fire. This didn’t dissuade him, this moment he stood in front of the ultimate flame! How could he walk away? How could he turn his back on this entity before him? He could reach the pinnacle of his mystic being, he had found the ultimate candle. And with that thought he stepped closer……

Entered by: 0xCEB7…28c3 and preserved on chain (see transaction)