![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Magic Box, Sunday, 11/30
Sunday, November 30th, 2014 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
not_every_mageMost days, Anders loved his life in Fandom. He loved his classes and the people he had met; he loved the miracles of technology and the familiar scent of the Magic Box in the morning, like old books and dried herbs. And of course he loved Lachlan.
But then there were days like today, where he woke up thinking of his phylactery -- the vial of blood that bound him to the Circle. He thought of that, and how no Templars had come, and wondered if the island was just a larger, prettier cage he'd been sent to until he could be broken back to Circle life. He could leave, of course, but how? Where would he even go?
Sighing at the thoughts, he found a notepad and a pen and sat at the shop's counter. It was time to put this unhappy restlessness to work and start writing his manifesto again.
But then there were days like today, where he woke up thinking of his phylactery -- the vial of blood that bound him to the Circle. He thought of that, and how no Templars had come, and wondered if the island was just a larger, prettier cage he'd been sent to until he could be broken back to Circle life. He could leave, of course, but how? Where would he even go?
Sighing at the thoughts, he found a notepad and a pen and sat at the shop's counter. It was time to put this unhappy restlessness to work and start writing his manifesto again.