The Source

The Sochast, source of all life. 

I'm not sure how old Asdair is here...nor have I decided what age he is when he works magic for the first time. In any case, he grows up to become one of the most revered and accomplished mages the world's ever seen...because he surrenders his own fate to the Sochast. It's not easy. In fact, it's freaking hard. It's a battle he fights his whole life. But...worth it. 

Here he is, a little older



My inner need for drawing something with a billion stars is now satisfied. -deep sigh.-  
In case you didn't catch it, this is Asdair from my and my best friend's original series, Tales of the Fatherless. 

Read the Prologue here: 
TOTF Volume 1: Fiorain PROLOGUE    Last night of Summer, 3E 1034
    The Larnach
 
    He was dying.
    Something cold gripped his neck. Relentless, hungry pressure pressed against the place where his blood pulsed. Water coursed around him, black and thick. Then he had sight—darkness, black shot with livid bursts of swirling purple and green and orange—then sound! Savage roaring, muffled words. He was heaved upwards, flung through the surface of water hard as glass. All was salt and fire and screaming, so loud and shrill in his ears that he could taste metal in his mouth. As he gasped for air, he dragged in seawater—he was under again, he was pulled down, down, away from the lurid light and the crashing of waves and the terrified shrieking—down, to some crushing and forgotten depth in a sea of dying souls.
    An object rushed at him from the corner of his sight, striking the side of

MEET MORE OF MY CHARACTERS, WHO I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY OBSESSED WITH: