Fable - Ask A New Start

Aiko lifted her bow as Svenia finished her request. It seemed a small ask, all told. There seemed to be an implicit expectation of aid from student to student. While the circumstances were unfortunate, Aiko could not help but be envious of her sense of purpose. Aiko had a general goal of bringing honor to her family, but outside of demonstrating competence she didn’t know how she would do that.

“I will help you with this.” Aiko said. She had some questions on exactly how the girl aimed go stop further loss at the tide of flames, but they could be answered later. The girl’s face turned to a smile as an idea hit her mind. She pulled up a small purse, decorated with painted floral patterns. She opened it with a click, and looked inside a moment before pulling out a small card of paper that held the College of Elbion’s crest. It was organized in a grid, and printed in such a way that implied magic scale over being handwritten.

“This is my schedule for the semester.” Aiko said, presenting it to Svenia Albrecht . Svenia might notice a ‘remedial’ type of class in mathematics, but it was filled with an otherwise standard list of prerequisites that every first year was expected to handle.

“Maybe there is a class we can study together in.”

"Thank you," she said with a genuine smile. She reached into the folds of her skirt where she kept a slim back with her personal affects and withdrew a similar card. It was dog-eared and crinkled but still quite readable. She did not carry a purse for the simple fact that she already burdened herself with the staff.

She offered it to Aiko, taking the other girl's schedule. She raised a brow at the remedial class. She did not, however, mock or belittle the elfin girl for it. "I can help with the mathematics," she said. "I've worked ledgers and interest and many other things to do with numbers. Pa ...was adamant that I learn." There was a little hurt in her heart over mentioning her da, even three years later. She pushed it down ruthlessly. "He insisted that we all be capable of helping or taking lead on things."

Prescient and fortuitous that he had. Turned out that it was needed many, many years sooner than it should have been

"There are many things they want us to do that do not interest me," she noted. She was here to learn healing magic and maybe, just maybe, learn to suppress and lock away the unwelcome flames within. "But I will do what I must to learn what I wish. Looks like we have potions together," she remarked.

Aiko’s cheeks flushed a bit at the mention of her mathematics class. It disappeared shortly, but certainly not short enough to go unnoticed by Svenia.

“Such things were not a priority for my own education.” Aiko said softly. There was a bit more to it than that, but Aiko did not wish to delve into it just yet. Especially given the owl was likely still listening to all said.

“I’m afraid that’s likely my fault, or those who’ve borne a likeness in the past.” Aiko replied at the mention of their breadth of coursework. “I’ve little idea what to specialize in. It seems I’ve at least a year to find out, but is no small decision.” She continued. Aiko gave the girl a smile.

“I shall look forward to some great times in Potions then.” She said to Svenia Albrecht completely unaware of what was to come.

Vaezhasar Drakspae said:

“Tell me—are you enjoying the social theatrics, or merely auditing them for later dissection?”

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Kikwi did not need enhanced sight nor hearing to notice the large and heavily armored Maester. His footfalls could be felt before he even entered the hall. Students parted before him, more out of self-preservation than deference, lest they be crushed.

“Good evening!” He chirped back. Drakspae’s voice was always interesting through his helmet. At first it was hard to understand, but Kikwi had learned to decipher it. “Master” and “maester” sounded so similar, funny how one was an academic accolade and the other simply a politeness. Kikwi was no maester… but he kind of liked the Master part.

“I don’t really understand most of what they’re talking about, to be honest.” His facial feathers furrowed in contemplation. “Many of these students are noble… from here or elsewhere. Nobles like to speak without really saying anything at all.”

Kikwi had been doing his best to decipher this code of social etiquette. One young lady in particular was saying exactly what she meant, being kind of rude about it. Still others were discussing matters Kikwi assumed to be private, so he tried not to think about it too much.

“Do you have any exciting lessons planned this year? Well of course you do!” He snapped through a crunchy cricket.

Kikwi
Vaezhasar let the query dangle like an unbaited hook. A heartbeat…two—then a guttural chuckle rattled through the conjoined plates of his helm, warped into something that sounded equal parts mirth and rolling avalanche.

“You may find it droll, but I have yet to suffer the indignity of a lecture hall since the parchment was thrust upon me. I relegated myself instead to fieldwork—the sort of expeditions that involve more crawling through damp ruins and bargaining with things best left unbargained-with than scholarly review boards are comfortable endorsing. Someone, after all, must catalog the things that prefer to remain uncatalogued.”

A pause; the orb in the dab-smack of his chest thrummed, casting quicksilver light across the gold flanges of his breastplate. “Still, the Board insists that I darken a rostrum now and again. Very well. This term I shall offer a modest series on familiars and extra-dimensional entities—those obliging creatures polite society insists on calling ‘forbidden.’” The helm inclined, horns tracing a slow arc of assent. “Attendance, I caution, is at one’s own mental peril. But the curiosities of youth are best indulged under supervision, eh?”

He tapped the staff once against the parquet, as though sealing a contract with the stone itself, and the lingering tongues of witch-light curled back into silence.

"Oh I'm not very talented, but I am good at squandering," Suleiman said, no stranger to self-deprecating humor. He was always the talkative sort, and being in the midst of so many well-established peers, he felt a strong but vague tug to make a "good impression". He ought to at least seem personable, so he reckoned; it was one talent that he had.

"And. Right. Everyone does need their own motivations. And I say, the unstudious pursuits are the wood that helps keep the fire in the hearth going."

And he cut a slice of the ham on his plate and took a bite.



Yuebing Coquelicot Calixtus

Yue regarded Suleiman Askari more closely but her frown remained. He seemed to have deflated a little.
She supposed that this is were she ought to say something softer to ease the conversation in a more jovial direction.
Alas....nothing came to mind. "Hm.." She replied quietly and nibbled a bit more of the fruit tart. She wasn't all too familiar with it's people or it's customs. Her life had been fairly insular before coming to Elbion.
It would be squandering opportunities not to engage. These people were her peers after all. Best not to make a hypocrite of herself. Her tone neutral as she asked "Do all people of Maraan use such colorful phrasing?"
One did need enjoyment in their life of course. Yue just wasn't so sure she could allow herself to become distracted by non-academic pursuits. She understood well the value of networking of course. Then again she hesitated to cozy up to even the friendlier students seated here. Only one among them had a clear and obvious benefit for to get in the good graces of. But she didn't intend to pursue that 'motivation' without more information. She glanced at Calixtus he seemed an ordinary boy to her. Perhaps a bit prideful.

She could half hear that the elf and another girl were talking about classes. It seemed a more productive conversation. But given how the one with the brown hair had glared....yue gathered she would be better off to keep her attention to the boy from Maraan.

"I have my moments," Suleiman said, making sure to mind his table manners and to speak only when he didn't have a mouthful of food to get in the way (or come sailing out). His parents had been lax on him, but this was one of the things they made sure to scold him on. And here in Elbion those scoldings were paying off.

"But the Mirzas of Maraan do use a lot of color with their phrasing, so to speak. My father and mother do. My uncle does. My grandparents. Pretty much everyone I can think of. Me? I don't know. Like I said, I just have my moments. My mother calls the way I tend to talk 'earthy'." Suleiman shrugged without shame or concern. Moreover by his demeanor, wide smile and all, he embraced it. "I don't think there's anything wrong with a lot of plain-speaking, and a dash of seasoning here and there."

Suleiman seemed to catch himself here, as though he had forgotten something.

"I'm sorry, did you mention your name? Sometimes I do get to yapping and I might have missed it."

Yuebing Coquelicot