In Tumultuous Beginning, a powerful mage disagrees with the ruling council. He rushes to flee from their mandate. When Thobin’s tower comes under siege, his power becomes both a shield and sentence. What starts as a confrontation quickly escalates and promises to linger for centuries.
Thobin’s mastery over magic is vast. In fact, his existence threatens the absolute rule of the ruling council. Faced with those tasked with binding his will, he answers not with surrender, but with a spell that shows his true mastery. Every word he speaks reshapes fate, every gesture carries the weight of consequence.
Still Got Something brings a restrained but powerful blues rhythm to this story. The composition hums beneath the narration, a quiet yet relentless heartbeat that mirrors Thobin’s calm fury and the timeless cost of wielding such power.
Tumultuous Beginning began as a simple image on DeviantArt. Unfortunately, that image has been taken down. Based on my memory, the wizard was hunched over the tome his hair wild as his fingers hovered over the pages. That image sparked a clear story for me. While more backstory filled my mind, I’ve let it linger in the back of my mind. However, dusting the rust off this story has reignited the desire to explore this sliver of my larger world.
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The elderly man turned his head as the pounding intensified. His fingers twitched over the flipping pages of his floating tome, a venomous snarl curling his lips. With each crash, another page tore free from the book and joined the howling, arcane storm around the frantic mage. As the sheets spun past his twitching brow, light devoured the scribbled ink. When the glow enveloped each sheet, they popped out of existence.
“Thobin,” a husky voice called, punctuated by a mighty and ominous thud. “Open the door!”
The man’s steely gaze whipped toward the voice. Still, his fingers danced over the whirling pages. The pounding gave way to cracking wood, a splintering rhythm that echoed through the tower. Then a sharp female voice cut through the din. “This isn’t going to end well for you!”
“By a unanimous decree of the ruling council,” the gruff voice said as the pounding increased, “you are required to surrender yourself and all of your tomes to our authority.”
A swirling wind whipped about Thobin, throwing his long, wild, silver-streaked hair about his head. As more pages tore from the tome, he rolled his shoulders, sending a series of cracks bouncing off the walls. “I respect neither that institution nor you. Enter at your own peril.”
“Thobin, you can’t win this fight. However, if you submit yourself to our authority, you’ll be rewarded with a place on the council.”
“Bah!” Thobin’s fingers whirled faster as more pages tore free from the tome. When the last page freed itself, Thobin turned to face the cracking door, hands clasped behind his back.
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