True to his word, the Primate had given Zavros whatever he needed to conduct his experiments, provided the essence kept flowing. The price of a loaf of bread in Seranthia was now a silver deen, so there was no shortage of prisoners for the facility that Zavros had named Angelmar, from an Akari word that meant discovery. Zavros thought it a fitting name for what he was doing here.

Zavros didn't care about the Primate's constant demand for essence, or even about the elixir. For Zavros, Anglemar was the opportunity of a lifetime. He had learned more about the mind and the way it controlled the body, than he had ever read in any books — and Zavros had read everything that had been written on the subject. He had as many subjects for his experiments as he could wish for, and as isolated as Angelmar was, there was no one to bother him with details, ask him for reports, or query his methods.

Today he was excited. His next subject was ahead of him, being dragged along the corridor by two templar guards. The youth was a troublemaker, a wild one from Seranthia, who had fought like a demon when his mother and sister were taken from him. Zavros intended to find out if such aggressive tendencies could be curbed. Could he turn this useless creature into something of worth to the world? Perhaps the boy's muscles could haul stone, or build fences, or dig holes. The things Zavros learned here had the potential to change the world for the better.

The chamber where he did most of his work was built of brick, twice-thick and painted white. Zavros didn't want any noise to escape the chamber, but more importantly, he didn't want to be distracted while he was working. If the prisoners were rioting over their rations or trying to escape he didn't want to know about it. He was no soldier; he preferred to let the guards sort such matters out.

"Sit him down in that chair," Zavros said, looking down his nose through his oculars and gesturing to the guards.

The youth still writhed and struggled as they set him down, but his efforts were useless against the burly templar guards; even if they hadn't had the taint, the guards could easily control one such as this. Zavros thought it interesting that the boy likely knew his struggles were useless, yet the aggressive streak in his mind caused him to fight nonetheless. He couldn't wait to see if he could restrain such instincts with the judicious use of his scalpel, and then test the results of his efforts to see what it took to once again bring out the boy's aggression afterwards.

"Strap his arms into the chair," Zavros said. "Good. Thank you, gentlemen. You may go now."