Fable - Ask A New Start

A small figure lingered on the fringe of the ceremony. Her Jade eyes sharply passing over the assortment of students and professors with a small frown. She of course noticed Calixtus enter. She was deeply aware of both of the brothers in the way that remora are aware of sharks. She was a daughter of a much smaller less influential merchant house. That she had been pulled back to Elbion and suddenly supported in her desire to pursue academic study was merely a ripple in their wake.
It had become transparent to her the moment she heard that one of the brothers was her age and would be entering the college in the same year.
She had no doubt that her father was hoping she would find a way to cozy up to the boy. But she didn't have much intention of going out of her way to do so. Actually if they didn't notice her at all that would be just fine. No impression was much better than a negative one.
It was only in preparation for joining the college that Yue had been welcomed into the main house with open arms. So it was unlikely that either would recognize her.

The benefit was that with someone like Calixtus drawing the ire her own admittance was much less contested. After all the more humble houses were expected to follow trend. She had caught the odd derisive glance of a person deciding she ought not to be here, but nothing like the outright glares he was getting.

A girl standing nearby fussed with her hair. The woman was a bit taller and had a quiet almost valiant quality of features. Her hair was clumsily arranged.....but the colors was nice. It would pair well with pale blue ribbons...or a pearl hair pin...no, polished glass in the shape of small leaves. oh. She had been looking a bit too long. Yue gave a slow blink then turned her nose towards the spread.
Her eyes caught up and sought out whatever seemed the most palatable. Elbion was diverse but she often found the food a bit....disappointing. With a small moment of indecision she hesitantly picked up a small fruit tart of some kind from the table.

Bliss

"Here!" To her left, the familiar shade of chestnut hair was all Bliss could see. The head belonged to her roommate, Bea. She was a small thing, just over five feet in height for her grandfather was a dwarf, never mind that Bea's family were all small, even the non-dwarven side to the family.

"Do not cut anymore of my hair." Bliss blurted as she peered at her first and only friend. Her eyes widened, stared a moment before she sighed and went to take the nearest seat that was not occupied. "My mother will think regrowing one lock of my hair is me abusing my education on beautifying myself when I should be focused on being an excellent mage." The young woman grumbled.

Bea stood behind her, a grin unseen by Bliss. "Fret not, Blissy. I got you in this mess, and I will get you out of it."

It took a lot of composure not to jump the moment she felt the knife slip beneath the braid and began cutting through ribbons. It took even more willpower to not shut her eyes. There were a few faces turned her way, and she wanted to scowl at the show they were putting on for the new starts beginning their College education.

"Alright! That's enough! I'll... do it myself from here..." Bliss insisted the moment her braid was freed from the ribbons that tangled into a mess. She turned to look at her friend, who still smiled as she placed the knife onto the table and climbed over the bench seat to relax at the side of her. "I'm going to teach you to braid so you don't accidentally cause a disaster with your younger sisters."

"Better start sooner. You dropped this." Arsenio came to sat on the other side of Bliss. A year ahead of her, and a good friend of her brothers', Arsenio smiled at her as if he were one of her brothers. "Looking choppy back there."

Bliss looked down, to his fingers pinching another lock of hair that he had picked up from the ground.
"That's it!" She said with a hurry, grasping for her hair and pulling all of her ash blonde hair over her shoulder. "I will have to suffer Mother's complaints and worries." She murmured in a low voice, one that tried to hide her impatience as she began to weave her hair back to regular lengths.

Calixtus said:

"Good evening, I am Calixtus Blodwyn," he announced to everyone at his table. He set one hand on top of his other. He decided to leave the food for now.

Click to expand...

We know. Yue quietly thought. She could hear some murmured introductions in response.
She might have made her own if she weren't distracted by the small tragedy unfolding.
Just when she had made up her mind to look away,
A smaller brunette girl had joined the golden haired one and was going at it with a knife. She groaned internally why on Arethil would you bring a knife near hair like that. She couldn't help but watch the scene with a hint of reproach. It was like a tragic carriage crash, terrible and fascinating.
Wasn't she already a student here? Didn't they teach not to be so careless here?
One of the boys held up a bit of hair that had fallen and it made her frown of disapproval deepen. See! Of course that would happen!

It was a decently impressive magic weaving the hair back to form. One that Yue might have admired if she weren't so appalled.
She clicked her tongue and hissed. "You should not leave such things lying around! Don't you have any fear that someone might use it?"
Yue spoke up sharply and set the long forgotten fruit tart back onto the plate.
"If a stray lock of hair were used against you, I imagine your mother would have much more to worry about then a bit of vanity........and it's quite rude to fuss with ones hair around food...."
She knew she was already a bit out of line but now that she had asserted herself she might as well go all the way.
"....and also the ribbons you've chosen are a poor color match....and a simpler half braid style would have suited your features more."
Finished chiding the older students she simmered to less of a reproachful glare and more of a disapproving pout.
Though her own mother would never have objected to glamours. Beauty is also a tool. A truly cunning and practical woman should make use of all charms. Or so was the principal she followed in theory, in practice was another story. There was a boy at this very table she had been bade to charm and she hadn't even smiled in his direction. In fact, she had been purposefully avoiding eye contact.

He knew once he stepped inside the carriage, there was no going back.

So to Suleiman it seemed a time interminable as he stood there, looking. The mansion of Clan Askari lay to his back, the street ran from the breadth of one eye to the other, the busyness of Maraan surrounded him, the unclouded sun shone above, and before him, of course, the carriage, but as well his father Eskandar and his mother Farah. Before him too, unseen by his eyes but present in his mind, the journey to Elbion, and the knowledge that the journey's end would prove a new beginning.

Strange. Wasn't this, or something like this, what he wanted? To travel? Journey afar? Yeah. Of course. But in this he had a weight on his shoulders that the journeys of his dreams lacked; for over a hundred years the Askari Clan went without any son or daughter born with the gift of magic. And now Suleiman had it. He had it, and secretly, he loathed it and feared it. Not for some grand reason, oh no no, nothing like that. He loathed and feared it because his mother and father looked at him differently now, especially father. Pride glimmered in every gaze, gleaming more than any jewel crafted by Askari hands. They wanted so much for him, to see him excel, to witness him use his magic to bring honor and renown untold to Clan Askari.

But if he faltered? But if his gift fell short of their hopes?

In truth Suleiman perhaps stood but a second or two before the carriage. He left those burning questions unanswered as he stepped forward, toward the proud smiles of his father and his mother, and he boarded the carriage. One of the Askari-sworn men shut the door after them, the call went out among the other mounted men escorting the carriage, and away they went.

Farewell, Maraan.



North and east they traveled, and the sands calmed to soils, and the ever-watchful eye of the desert sun ceded dominion to rain-bearing clouds here and there.

Somewhere along the way, Suleiman, harboring the thought until he could no more, spoke aloud and asked Eskandar, "Why me? Out of all of us, why...do I have magic? Uncle Fahid would have been better."

Fahid Askari was a swordsinger—a master of the shamshir—a daring adventurer, and had fought in many battles for the Empire. All this Eskandar knew well. But he said nothing of it, and he looked at Suleiman with affection undaunted, saying, "It is known only to the Six what fate holds for each man." And his cheeks rose as his smile grew. "And you are a man now, Suleiman."

"A young man."

"No man starts fully formed. Not even your Uncle Fahid." He reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Worry not, Suleiman. Worry not. The sun will never rise and see Eskandar Askari resent his son for endeavors honestly done. So go to Elbion. Learn all that you can. Harness your gift. In whatever may come, you carry the name of Askari, and you will bring radiance to it."

And the carriage traveled on.



The moment came. With the College of Elbion to his back, Suleiman looked to his father and his mother, and they were as beacons in an otherwise vast and unfamiliar land. But this was it. The place he would come to live for...what? Four years? Five? More, maybe, if he had talents even he didn't yet know?

And as if his father plucked the very thought from his mind, he after embracing him said, "This isn't farewell or goodbye. We will see you again. Ha! Sooner than you might like, or so it will seem."

Suleiman smiled, that heaviness in his chest assuaged somewhat by his father's levity. "Home's not that far. I can always visit for Eid-al-Feija."

"That you can."

And now his mother Farah, no longer able to hold herself or her tears back, came forward and hugged him tightly and said, "My son! My Suleiman...!"

He almost didn't know what to say. "I'll be here." And he added, echoing what he said to his father, "Not that far."

Eskandar let her embrace him for a while, and then with a comforting hand on her shoulder he told her through touch that it was time. And she let Suleiman go, and they retreated back to the still open door of the carriage.

Suleiman turned around, and he looked up at the massive College. With a stark clarity and brutal suddenness the realization hit him. Alright, back in Maraan? That wasn't the threshold of no going back. This was that threshold. The first step toward the College and away from his family, from this there would be no going back. He would be in Elbion, in this College of magic, and this would be his life for the foreseeable future. He could always...just...turn around. Give it up. Right here, right now, before he made the final commitment. This was his last chance.

But he took that step.

And, after all the anticipation and dread...it was easier than he thought. Not so bad at all. And in the motion of his walking all that heaviness in his chest drifted away.



Suleiman wasn't off to the best of starts.

So far as he understood, there was meant to be a big welcoming ceremony he and other new (and newer, maybe) students were supposed to attend. The gate guard's directions on how to get to this "Convocation Hall" seemed simple enough. But the moment Suleiman set foot inside the actual College building itself, it proved anything but simple. He found himself getting turned around here and there, damn, this corner looks familiar, didn't I already see her face, that window over there I must have passed by three times now. Directions from passersby, be they student (since they looked his age) or Professor helped...marginally.

At last, though, he found the right Hall. And with no time to spare. Actually, he seemed to be a touch late. Tables lined the grand hall and students already had taken their seats, only some still in the motion of doing so as Suleiman walked in.

Knowing no one, whether of notable background or common origin, and looking only to grab a seat before he looked not only late but like an idiot for being left standing, Suleiman with a brisk walk went down the first aisle his feet carried him to.

...am Calixtus Blodwyn.

Ah yes! The tail-end of an introduction! The best "in" he was going to get!

So Suleiman sat down with a speed he hoped looked instead like style and said, "Suleiman. Suleiman Askari. They finally got this thing started, huh? Took long enough."

And he shined a smile at all sitting at the table.

Calixtus Bliss Yuebing Coquelicot

The carriage creaked to a halt, dust settling as hooves clopped restlessly. Alexander opened the door from within and stepped down, one foot landing on the iron rung. He gripped the doorway firmly, surveying the College grounds. His surcoat, travel-worn and plain, fluttered in the breeze. No fanfare awaited him — only the distant toll of a bell and the sighing wind through the trees.

Behind him, the driver muttered and snapped the reins. Alexander exhaled once, then released the doorframe and descended fully to the ground.

-----

Time passed, and the out-of-towner found himself at some sort feasting hall where the others were rumored to be gathering.

Hearing the chitter-chatter of many voices all together at once put him on edge instantaneously, though he had expected as much and would have no difficulty hiding it.

Or such was the plan.

Whatever they saw him as when he first walked into that room would be cast in stone, as ever it always was.

Someone from far away. A drifter. A traveler, perhaps, but when travelers journey without sense of purpose or time you call them drifters instead. Or other more creative names.

An older, wiser gaze would see that he was a man grown and looking right back at you, if they catch you in a certain light.

No wife. No children. Not coming from a road where there was room for one or the other.

Not aimed down a road that would bring him closer to one or the other.

Not aimed down any road that could be guessed just at a glance, except if that led him to a hot meal and possibly even a bath.

Grizzled, seasoned, wearing road-worthy leathers and a peculiarly heavy surcoat... that was how Selzurius strode into the dining hall.

He seemed eager first to inspect the sweet-treats and cold, refreshing juices laid out on the tables. After a brief inspection of a piece of lemon-cake, he acquired it to a small plate.

The small plate with the lemon cake would be joined with a goblet of chilled tea. You don't see ice tea just anywhere, y'know?

Damned if it isn't just the thing after a long carriage ride, though.

---

Selzurius busied himself with snacking and sipping for a time, casting looks across the hall to the others that were assembled and already chitter-chattering.

Talkers. Lots of them. He just took another sip of his tea and tried to settle in for the hard part now.

Not introductions... it was the waiting. You don't wait for anyone when you're out there alone. There isn't anyone to wait for.

Back here inside this little thing called civilization - well, it's back to the old ways. Hurry up and wait.

Who would've guessed?

"You are sure?"

The wind blew from inland, carrying the heat and the dry dust from the Savannah and points far west. The height of summer had yet to crush the land in its inevitable grip, but already the hints of a brutal season were easy to see.

"Sven," Mero replied with a touch of annoyance. "You can do nothing here. You always wanted to go and learn, anyway. I ... know its been rough, but I can take care of both myself and our business. You needn't worry so."

The initial speaker shook her head slowly, but did not immediately reply. Short and slight and young, she nevertheless possessed a certain gravity not uncommon among her family. They were - or had been - known for their cut-throat, no-nonsense approach to business. It had sufficed to give them all a very, very good life.

Funny, though. Didn't matter where you started or where you went in life. Everyone ended up in the same place. And some of those harder than others.

"I am sorry, brother," she said in her lilting voice, and looked to the portal stone. The hood of the green shawl lay pooled round her neck, the vines and leaves picked out in copper and silver thread. It had been a gift from Mother when she had turned sixteen. It was one of the few things she still had from before that had any meaning to her. "I do, but... it is a lot to handle by yourself."

Of course, she meant that there were distant arms of the family that had come out of the woodwork after that sorrowful night. So many people that had little to do with them before - spurned and cast aside as they had been - were suddenly eager to help out Mero and Svenia in their time of need.

Mostly to fleece them of everything they had.

Mero sneered at her. "Yes, well. It isn't as though Elbion isn't a few days travel by carriage and a jaunt through the Stone away. Maybe after a year or two, you'll even be able to use the Stone yourself."

They both looked to one another in silence. Neither had to speak their thoughts aloud; they had grown close together in Alliria, as had their departed siblings. They shared the same motivation as had their parents before them: spreading their business and influence far and wide. And with it, all the profits that could be had.

After a moment, they both stepped forward to embrace one another. "Do not forget to visit me, Mero," she said in a rough voice. He was gentle with her, but even so the ravaged flesh beneath the linens ached at his touch. "I will see about any opportunities in Elbion while I am there."

"You do that, Sven." He stepped back and gestured toward the stone. "At least write me every once in a while."

"I will," she said, and turned to limp away.

Even though she had always wanted in her heart of hearts to attending the college, she couldn't help feeling just as empty now as she had the year before. Some voids were harder to fill than others, after all.

---

Today was turning out to be a bit rougher than she was expecting. The damp on the air from the sea made her leg ache terribly. She leaned heavily on her staff walked the corridor in near silence. Her only companion were the echoes from further on down the way, voice raised in conversation as they tried to talk over one another.

It had been a month and a half since she had arrived. The entire time had been spent walking the streets of the city - not to see the sights, but to try and understand the ebb and flow of the city of magic. The College was very much at the center of it all, but the trader in her wanted to know how it all worked even if she wasn't precisely here to do business.

Yet.

She wore the same shawl she had the day she had rode into the city. It went well with the deep green skirts edged in crimson, the bodice of crimson and pale emerald. That shawl was slung across her shoulders; the hood pulled far over her head so that it kept her face in shadows. She moved awkwardly but swiftly enough. Her ornate wooden staff clicking out in time with her steps.

She kept her head down as she moved. Here everyone was a stranger, more or less. Even though she knew she shouldn't be, she was quite self-conscious of the scars that ruined a third of her face; of the sightless eye and the unnerving way it followed nothing.

She paused at the entrance to the Convocation Hall, taken aback for a moment at the number of men and women therein. Up to this point, she had only dealt with handfuls of people - students, the odd instructor. Of course, crowds thronging the streets of the city was one thing. At least there, she could move without feeling so vulnerable and easily spotted.

What was another face in the crowd, after all?

This was different. Most of the people here came from similarly privileged backgrounds as herself. Many of them had power and beauty in abundance. It was an unaccustomed feeling, this sense of insignificance. She might one day have power, but she would never have beauty.

Never again, anyway.

Shaking her head, she made her way to the closest table and seated herself in a rustle of skirts that hid the sigh of relief as she took the weight off her tortured leg. At least - if the College held true to its reputation - she might be able to save someone else the same fate.

Injuries of the flesh could heal, but those of the soul? Ach, a bit more tricksome, they were.

Aiko was fast asleep when Togarashi barged into her room. The burst of the door flying brought her to consciousness, not to mention fury.

“Togarashi!” She screamed as she instinctively pulled her blanket closer. “Why are you here in the night? Do you not know my father will-“

“Your father has demanded you meet him in the next thirty minutes.” He said flatly. Her anger softened , being replaced with confusion. “You will be leaving shortly. Setsuna will be here shortly to pack your effects.” Aiko noticed now that Togarashi’s hands were firm on his blade’s scabbard and hilt. He always wore the blade, and Aiko knew he held some skill to work for her father, but had never seen him hold it before.

“Tell Father I will be there.” Aiko said. The Elf bowed, then left. Aiko quickly selected a dress and prepared herself. Her father demanded perfection and beating in all things, and Aiko was no exception. It did not take long for Setsuna to arrive, and the two prepared her as if for a royal ball. The time was swift, but Setsuna was supremely competent and had taught Aiko well. Namely, everything she could everything a handmaiden could with magic, and had taught Aiko similar tricks. The lacing of a dress, sealing of a necklace, wrapping of a sash could all be done with hands or through magic in the air. The net effect was turning a hour process into something to be done inside ten minutes. Blush was applied when Aiko's eyes began to water.

"Now now Aiko. You mustn't show any such worry to your father." Setsuna chided. It was little comfort, but Aiko knew she was right. The girl hugged her caretaker, then took a deep breath and steeled herself before heading to her father.

The elder Yamaguchi was surrounded by advisors when Aiko arrived. Some were clean as a newly minted coin, and just as well dressed, while others wore simple robes that accentuated the tattoos that covered every inch of their bodies. Some were a mix of both. Aiko had seen several of them, but never for more than a moment, and never this many at once. They were discussing something urgent, and the debate seemed heated. Aiko purposefully kept far enough away that their conversation was intelligible, but that she could be seen by the crowd. It took a moment before she was noticed, at which point the conversation quieted, and one of the advisors pointed her out to her father. The elf dismissed them to another room before waving Aiko over.

"Aiko, I'm glad you've been so quick to come. Your life is about to change drastically." His words were rushed, in a way she'd never heard from him before. His speech was measured, but not with the exactness she'd come to expect.

"Then you have found a suitor?" She asked. For a moment she saw his face change, then return to the steely eyes she knew.

"No, I am changing plans." Her father said. "You will travel immediately to the Allir portal Stone and take it to the Elbion portal stone. You are enrolled to be a student at the College of Elbion next semester. It will start in a few weeks. Everything has been arranged."

"I see." Aiko responded when in fact she did not. Her magic ability was present, but largely undeveloped. "Do I have . . . any further assignment when I get there?"

"Integrate. Become a student. You have good instincts, do not worry." He said, then paused for a moment. "Any additional assignments will come from one of your brothers, in person."

"I see." Aiko responded, when in fact she still did not. Her eyes gazed into her father's, looking for something to provide certainty. She found her father's iron will. Surely he had a plan that she would understand later.

"It is time for you to go. Setsuna will be your aid, and Togarashi will escort you with a small guard. You are not to speak to anyone except Setsuna and Togarashi until you arrive at Elbion." Her father looked at Aiko, and the girl bowed her head. She did not know where he was before, but Togarashi appeared at her side and bowed at her father, before taking Aiko's arm and escorting her to a carriage.

---

Elbion was a strange place. It was a place Aiko could roam without any escorts. A place where no one knew her name, save for the odd member of admissions staff. She had heard conversation about her, those ears were not for show after all, questioning who she was. What noble house did she come from to where those clothes? Did elves even have noble houses? Why weren't people informed of her arrival before she came? It was the kind of distinct information advantage that her father was always looking for.

And yet here Aiko was, with no true way to capitalize on it. The girl felt a failure, unable to discover how to pick a lump of gold off the ground. Still, if her father had taught her anything, it was how to distance her emotional state from her physical state. She was perfectly reserved, graceful, and above all silent. Even the passing of tea from her cup was without noise, and unseen by most. She had still not heard from her family, though it had only been a couple weeks since she left. The time was good, as she was now past the time of tears. There was work to do here, even if Aiko didn't know exactly what it was. Her eyes scanned the table as Calixtus made his declaration. There was some reaction at the table. His name was obviously known. Perhaps the Blodwyns had dealings with the Yamaguchi's and that's why she was here.

No, if that was the case one of her brother's would have been sent.

Back to square one. Aiko continued to listen as the fly on the wall as conversation went through the table. She'd figure it out soon enough. She just had to.

Through the hubbub of the hall it might be difficult to see the far corners of the Convocation Hall. It could be easily missed that at the edge of the far tables, those set up for the staff and faculty, there were some place settings. One could be forgiven for overlooking the small gathering of feathers that sat behind one such setting. The tawny tufts blended softly against the wooden chair backs, though the two large yellow eyes stood out quite notably when the light hit them right.

The true Maesters had their places at the center of the main table, with diminishingly grand candlelight and cutlery as one moved outward. Kikwi, far to the side, had more meager settings, though this was primarily because they had been custom-hewn for his tiny clawed hands. Seated atop a formidable stack of older tomes, he looked out from behind a plate of similarly bespoke rations (mostly insects and other small creatures, nicely seasoned and pleasantly dried for a good crunch).

The diminutive kenku was very excited. He enjoyed this ceremony quite a lot, though he had only been to two of them previously. It had taken a few years for the college to officially recognize his rather unique position, but a half-dozen novel discoveries on the magical properties of fauna had been convincing.

The little owl had no magical prowess, nor was he of an age to officially enroll (a technicality, for his species matured much more quickly than most others). Perhaps someday he could be called Maester, but for now Kikwi was more than content to be within the college in any capacity. He was not the school’s only adjunct instructor, though he was certainly the tiniest.

Kikwi clapped his scaly hands together as the headmaster finished her speech and swiveled his massive globes over the throng of students again. The existing students were familiar. Kikwi had a very good memory, if he did say so, and did not forget a face once seeing it.

Bliss, Bae, and Arsenio were together (of course), though Bliss had changed her hair. It looked nice. They were talking to a new student, how welcoming! And the new student had advice for them, too, it seemed.

Several new faces stood out. Calixtus looked very familiar to another face Kikwi knew, and Aiko’s ears were lovely. Kikwi tried not to get too excited about it, but he was very eager to speak to an elf.

As much as he wished to mingle, he stayed seated. With this many people he was likely to be trampled underfoot. That was alright, he could listen well enough. The feathers of his face subtly turned and twitched, focusing the conversations from around the room. Kikwi’s eyes were good, but his ears were even better.

He heard everything.

"I came here to heal," she muttered under her breath after the Maester had finished their speech. Here to heal and be healed. All of the intimidating talk didn't impress her very much, though. She had been bathed in fire and lived to tell of it. It had taken tremendous will power to push through the pain and suffering and bleak grief and to do so all at the same time. And yet... here she was. Maybe not in the way she had imagined it so many times, but here all the same and mostly still in one piece.

Forged in fire. Made stronger by it, even if she would carry the marks forever. There were scars there that could not be seen on the surface., too, and those would maybe never mend.

Surface ones still hurt, though.

"I won't let you down." The words were whispered, very nearly a prayer - not to anything as trite as a god or a goddess (of which she did not believe in) nor even to herself. The ghosts of the past clung to her shoulders thick as morning mist and as substantial. She wouldn't let down Mero but, more importantly, she wouldn't let Papa and Ma down, either. She was filled with determination to see it so.

Even saying the words brought a sharp pang in her heart. She kept her face a steel mask, though. So many people here with power and influence. She did not know if it would be as cut-throat as the world of business or that of high-born society. She only knew she did not want to show any weakness.

If only she knew what to expect here.

She looked at the food arrayed and did not touch so much as a morsel of it. Social settings were not her thing. All of these people made her uneasy. Instead, she pulled the hood down further over her brown hair and tried to make herself smaller and less interesting. Better to listen to the people round her.

Even if some of them were already distasteful. Overheard conversation from one green-eyed, brown haired girl to another raised her hackles; needing the approval of a slip of a girl for her attire slipped a shard of anger into her head.

Or maybe it was jealousy. She was pretty, after all. A quick glance her way was all she would give, though.

And, on the edge of the room, she caught sight of another curio. Tiny by comparison to herself, it looked like an owl. Except those eyes were much more intelligent than some base beast. "What is that?" she wondered aloud, unaware that she had even spoken.

Her sharp words had gone more or less ignored. That was no concern. It wasn't as though she had been hoping for a specific reaction. She was plenty aware that her words might be taken poorly.
She flicked her gaze to the speaking Maester.
The rules were of no great surprise or concern. She wasn't the type to wander about and though she had family in Elbion....she wasn't likely to be tempted to visit.

She turned her eyes back to her fellow students in time to catch a fleeting glare from another girl. Seemed she had earned more ire than she first thought. It was no matter she was used to being misunderstood.
Yue ignored or at least tried to ignore the older student and her giggling friends. Whatever mischief they were going on about she hoped to avoid entirely.
Her eyes were drawn to the elf as well. She knew very vaguely that it was harder to be admitted for other races. She must be quite skilled....or have quite good connections. Her clothing and hair arrangement almost reminded Yue of home. Though they were different enough that she doubted it was the same home.

Yue cast her eyes back toward the maesters.
Her gaze studied the various masters assembled with a sort of vigilance. As if weighing them against the scholars and masters in her mind. The reality was a tad more colorful. was that a bird?....why was one of the Maesters wearing a full set of armor to a feast? It seemed that talented minds had quirks anywhere one went. So be it. She was willing to put up with any eccentricities a maester might have to hone her own skills, no matter how theatric.

Yue picked up the forgotten fruit tart and nibbled at it with a bored expression.

"Maraan," said Suleiman in reply to Calixtus. "I suppose you could say it's 'Kaliti', but my great-grandfather is fond of saying 'we Askari have been in Maraan since the beginning.' So Maraani it is."

Calixtus looked quite well-established. And as he glanced toward someone else (Aiko, as it were, but Suleiman didn't follow his gaze), Suleiman himself looked about and, hot sands, everyone in the Convocation Hall appeared well-established. But what was he expecting? This wasn't the Copper Lane in Maraan, this was the most prestigious school of magic in all of Arethil—of course everyone would reflect that prestige. Suleiman almost felt out of place, strangely; he was a Mirza of Maraan, as father often reminded him, the equivalent to nobles elsewhere in Arethil, and yet—while he certainly enjoyed the privileges—he never really acted like it.

By the Six, he really was here carrying the name of Askari, wasn't he?

But Suleiman, to some relief of his, didn't have time to ruminate on his father's words and his dawning responsibility. Maester Caliora stood and began her commencement speech, to which Suleiman hearkened carefully. And if his first step toward the College and away from his family had been the precipice of change, Maester Caliora's speech made it clear he had stepped over that precipice. He was here now. He was here, magic was not a toy, and there were rules, hard rules, lots of rules, that Maester Caliora and, surely, every other Maester and Professor held seriously. If someone pressed Suleiman to tell them the truth in that very moment at the end of Maester Caliora's speech, he indeed with all honestly would be forced to say he was quite intimidated.

That tight knot of intimidation loosened, however, as the feast began in the Hall. Suleiman knew he just had to learn. Not the magic curriculum, no, that was a given. He had to learn what he could do, what he couldn't do, and maybe even what he could get away with here in the College.

Preparing a hardy sample of the meats available at the table, Suleiman mused to Calixtus first, "Do they seriously mean be in your—what did she call them?—'dormitories' by eight every night? That's rough. There'll still be daylight outside come summer."

And as he pulled his plate to himself Suleiman spontaneously drew in Yuebing to the conversation, gesturing to her and saying, "I'd wager you have places you'd like to go after eight. I sure do. Spirits taste better at night—it's the truth. One of the truest facts that'll ever grace your ears."

Calixtus Yuebing Coquelicot

Aiko knew well how to spot a wandering glance. She caught one first from
Calixtus, and quickly pulled out a paper fan. It extended outward to cover the lower half of her face with a depiction of a dragon flying over the night sky of Alliria. Her spectators would only see as low as her eyes. She held those eyes locked with Calixtus for a moment as Suleiman Askari and Yuebing Coquelicot stole glances before shifting them to the speaker, Maester Caliora. She spoke, and Aiko listened, but her thoughts were of the three who had looked at her. Were they things to toy with, or something more? Only time would tell her. Her wrist moved the fan as the Maester spoke, which revealed that this place would be dreadfully boorish. Eight at night? She would have to find a way to sneak out to continue her painting of the moon. She would not give up painting for the whim of some old maid.

After the Maester’s speech, and a sip of tea, Aiko heard the words of Svenia Albrecht . The girl glanced over and observed the odd pair, still covered by the wafting of her fan.

"An informant." Aiko said softly. "And a good one, were it not for the interference of that lumbering piece of iron."

Startled out of her own thoughts, Svenia looked to Aiko with her head downcast to keep her face in shadow. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably at the attention of a stranger. Couldn't be helped in this setting, though. Everyone here was, to one degree or another, a stranger.

"An informant?" She replied with just a hint of question. She was familiar with eyes-and-ears, of course. Her family employed them in their mercantile dealings to great advantage. Helped to play the markets when you knew news and events in advance or - better still - could undermine competition.

She just didn't know what use such a thing would be here. This was a school, after all. "If they are a good set of ears, then 'that lumbering piece of iron' won't be able to effectively distract them from their duties."

She paused a moment, and shook her head. "Though I fail to see what our informant would be seeking. This is a school, not court or business."

Aiko

A vaguely satisfied grin tugged at one corner of the drifter's mouth while he moved gracefully on from lemon cake to lemon-crusted chicken with cracked peppers and a spicy little glaze sauce.

Eating but unwatched.

That didn't mean unseen, mind you. One would struggle hard in a place such as this to go genuinely unseen - and for what end might you try? This was the churn. Regardless of the position at which you began, nothing remains the same. Nothing is unchanged. All is seen as if for the very first time.

When speeches and introductions were done, Selzurius had passed the halfway marker of what was left on his plate, though you'd think he was done with the nearing-on-contempt lack of attention he gave to the food now that he'd eaten.

Caliora clearly spoke for the board of senior magic-wielders that seemed to be running the show here. Their lack of a consolidated leadership structure could be discussed a different day - but Selzurius had managed to gravitate towards the seemingly appropriate table.

First things first.

"Hello there friends," Selzurius said, with a copper-back drawl playing coyly with the word 'friends', the same way you might say to someone 'bless your heart'.

A little *thump* and a piece of old crumply paper had met the table, away from anyone's plates or foods. He had waited and picked his moment so as not to bulldoze existing conversations. Mostly.

The crumply piece of paper was once a flier of sorts. Mostly a drawing that had gone out at one point or another, an invitation (to apply) for the season's classes at the College of Elbion.

Or maybe it was last season's invitation?

Either way, addressing Caliora specifically but the maester's table more generally:

"My name is Alexander Palamedes, and I've an offer for you. Should you wish it, I can make myself available to teach those that are deemed ready in the fine art of Illusion," he enunciated the word 'illusion' as if it was a steaming pile of feces.

The word choice was just a common point of reference -- "illusion" -- only for the sake of mutual understanding but thereafter to be despised and held in contempt for its obvious deficits.

"Whether or not I teach this season, I do also have a separate request. I would like very much to attend certain classes as a student, but I will not be joining any of the children in their dormitories," he said with an arched and bushy brow, glancing around the hall as if deciding right there and then who belonged with the children and who belonged with the adults.

For obvious reasons, you do not mix the two.

"I require a place of my own to rest my head when it needs rest. If there is a suitable room I will take it, and we can discuss the fee most appropriate then," he nodded and went right along.

"If not, I'm sure I will manage to find some arrangement which would still permit reliable attendance."

He was rambling on a little, having briefly captured a moment of the conversation at the maester's table for at least a few winks and heartbeats.

Alexander then settled into his bootheels, and hooked both thumbs into his belt loop -- waiting for Caliora or one of the apparent leaders of this years College to consider his offer or to declare what might happen next.

The elf put a small grin behind her fan at the girl’s response.

“A good informant wants to see things as they are, not as they wish to be seen.” Aiko repeated a lesson her father had taught her long ago. “And while this may not be a noble ball, the characters are largely the same.” Aiko continued. She was not of noble blood, but considerable wealth. The table they shared was no mere collection of vagrants. Not everyone came from coin to be sure, but enough to watch by her judgement.

“I am Aiko.” She introduced herself to the girl, moving her eyes away from the owl. Was she shrouding herself away? Intriguing.

“Your voice. It is familiar.” She thought a moment. “Inner city, south?” She asked. An Allirian would know the area as wealthy. Some considered it ‘new money’, as the area had only been developed for a century or so, but in reality that was not quite true. Even if she hid herself in mystery, it comforted Aiko to think there might be others from home.

Svenia Albrecht

"A good informant also would not want to be seen as such. Unless, of course, it is misdirection." Her Ma and Papa had both taught her well the arts of court. She was lacking in polish but that was more a product of having hidden away for three years licking wounds that would never heal.

She let out a small breath. "Svenia. Svenia Albrecht." She would have curtsied were she standing and if it would not also have deposited her on the ground in a heap. "North, actually. Round the west side of the Keep. Our holdings have some history to them even if we are merely minor players among the gentry."

Of course, they were fantastically rich. But money didn't buy everything. It couldn't, for instance, turn back the clock.

Give back what had been taken.

"I would say I do not remember you, but it would not be saying much. I have not been...around for a while."

Aiko smiled behind her fan as she waved.

“It is good to meet another Allirian here. I’m told we willingly all will have roommates.” There was a sense of dread communicated with the word. “But once I am settled I simply must have you over for tea.” Aiko offered, then waved her fan a bit more.

“Albrecht . . .” She thought aloud at the name. She had definitely heard it before. Her fan stopped, then folded together to reveal her face with no small amount of shock.

“You are the survivor.” She said, more a realization than a question. What did you say to someone who had lost so much? Aiko was still dealing with not being with her family. She could not imagine living without them being around.

“I am dreadful at this.” She continued. “I- if there is anything I can- “ she sighed, upset at her fumbling of words.

“I am sorry.” She said, and bowed her head in respect.

Svenia Albrecht

She flinched as if physically struck, absently drawing the shawl tighter round her face. There were emotions there that did not bear examining. It had bene years, and so she had had some time to come to terms with the way the world was.

Still hurt.

"I am," she said after a moment to compose herself. "Me and Mero carry the family name still." How was Mero now? Buried in his work now that she wasn't underfoot, likely.

She took a steadying breath. "There is nothing to be sorry for. You didn't start the blaze. There is... no turning back the clock." She paused. "If you want to help, help me learn." A trace of magic swirled round her, channeled into her flesh with a thought. It was feeble and flickered fitfully. Even so, the aspect was clear enough: light and life. The call of the cleric.

"It is why I am here. So it doesn't happen to someone else." Even if no amount of magic can call the departed back from their eternal slumber. Even if the threads of fate could not be mended by a mortal, nor mortality turned aside. While they were alive though...

That was what she would spend her effort on.

Yue allowed her attention to be pulled from the table of maesters to a boy at the table. He seemed quite enthusiastic about breaking the rules. He could stand to be a little quieter about it if he really intended to.
Or perhaps this colorful way of speaking was meant to be a casual flirtation.
She looked down her nose at him (a feat considering their height difference) and gave a slow unimpressed blink. " How very talented you must be to have the privilege to squander your evenings in such an unstudious pursuits. "
Yue replied dryly. Though she found the curfew a bit strict as well. It was inferring one was meant to study and straight to bed after supper. She supposed being able to sneak out could be considered a lesson in it's own right. No real reason came to mind for why she might want to be out and about after sun down. Yet the idea of beating whatever measures were in place to prevent breaking curfew did seem amusing.

"I suppose each needs their own motivations....." What had he said his name was? She did vaguely wonder what spirits they drank in Maraan. She couldn't have disagreed with his statement having rarely drank spirits enough to compare the taste to the time of day. Though she doubted he had meant it in a literal sense.