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[Perrine Urahil]

The Academy was once a blur to Perrine Urahil before she was snatched up into the ranks of the Dreadlords, sent out on countless missions that required her expertise with healing. She thought she could be ruthless, to excel in inflicting pain with her gift but her efforts were never on the same level as her healing. Her borrowed time to convince she was another Urahil not to be trifled with came to an end, but years later she came to appreciate never straying from her true nature.

Felix had tried to intimidate her to switch, to be proud to say the Urahils would be hard to beat, but she became of use to him soon enough.

He wanted someone he could trust close to the Twins while at the Academy, to have unfaltering loyalty to ensure their safety. In these times, no one could be safe. Perrine was the perfect candidate, one that was resistant at first, but to harbour this responsibility for her cousins she grew up with? She was touched. Honoured.

And so the arrangement was made, that Perrine, now Proctor Urahil, was able to walk the halls and grounds and keep an eye on her family.

---

"See? That was not bad for a first day of etiquette, was it not?"

Perrine perhaps was a little smug to hear many Initiates say they pitied noble children in being brought up with such decorum and proper expectations. She had always seen it as dignified, an art lost on many, but she was happy to teach those on what to expect. Felix had no real clue on her excuse to be present at the Academy, not until Perri suggested a class to teach and to help with the infirmary (because gods did they need help).

Minutes later, she would be the last to leave the classroom. It had not been set up for any class but that did not deter Perri from her objective. She had only an hour to fill their minds with her expectations for her class, and had them work on their posture and ability to stay quiet, to observe all that they could see without giving away they had seen or heard anything.

Proctor Urahil did not expect to see Proctor Salak out in the hall, waiting for her.

"Oh! Hello! I was just on my way back to my office." Something she had insisted on in case the twins needed to speak with her quietly, or to hide from someone. "Would you like to join me? I have some tea back there if you'd like a cup?" And the harder liquors too, although she was not going to offer that straight off the bat on her first day.


Salak

 

[Salak]

"I'd be delighted."
Salak answered with a half smile. His face was aching lately but he tried to ignore it.
As they went his cane struck the ground rhythmically.
*Tack, tack, tack.*
"I overheard your closing remark. I suspect many of the Initiates found it utterly unbearable to behave for an hour."
Several came to mind but he didn't think it polite to give names.
Better to pet her discover for herself.
As for his reason for seeking her out, he had questions. Urahil's were a well known and influential family. He wanted to know where her loyalties lay.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

Once inside her office, she pulled a chair out by the window so her guest could sit down comfortably while she busied herself with the tea. It was a gift given at her last birthday, a tea pot enchanted to heat contents despite it going in cold. It was thoughtful, and Perrine treasured it as she preffered her herbal and floral teas more than any other beverage.

"Teaching Etiquette is amusing." She said with a smile, placing cups at either side of the small table and returning to collect the pot that was now brewing a simple green tea. "It reminds me of every noble child or one that came from wealth when they begin to learn at a young age; the constant nagging to stand up straight, or to use polite and cordial manners at the dinner table." It was not common for her to uphold such etiquette, even if her cousins and most younger nobles take on a more lax effort.

"They ought to learn and expose themselves to as much etiquette as they can. This is Vel Anir all Dreadlords serve. Politics can be played even over tea, in one's home... poisoned dinner parties too." Perri began to pour the tea, first serving Salak before pouring her own cup. "Dear Leander wrote to me quite the letter not so long ago. It is what gave me the idea to offer my services to teach such a class, so that one knows how to conduct themselves in society if they are lucky enough to be an invited guest, or even stationed as a guard."

It was how she begun her first class, getting them to not only be polite and mindful of themselves, but to always keep a keen eye on all things. It was about body language, to read the signs of anything abnormal.

The Urahils had plenty of practice of that growing up with their family dinners.


Salak

 

[Salak]

"Ah yes, Leander conducted himself well, loudly but well. He's got a mind under all that posturing. It's a shame he doesn't seem to think so."
The tea was pleasant.
He waited until she had taken her cup before reaching for his own.
"He'll be a fine addition to us I am certain. A military commission if he wants it even."
Though it was true that Archons could call upon any Dreadlords to go on mission or campaign those who committed themselves to military service often had less reason to be called for such things. The Government had its own interests.
"You flatter me with such talk."
He said in response to her talk of him being her inspiration for teaching.
He loathed teaching and wouldn't wish it on anyone.
"I cannot get these Initiates to so much as stand when I enter the room let alone move any of their minds."
He thought of Kristen Pirian then. Perhaps there was one.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

It was reassuring to hear the other Proctor say such things of her cousin, something she to believed as he was bound for greatness, achieving the goals he set out for himself.

"Well, I am certain you shall see the results of my classes come to pay off in the next couple of weeks. Perhaps I hint that al Proctors will be watching and waiting to report to me if they slacken." Perrine winked, smiling as she set down her cup and smiled at the warmth traveling down her body. The weather was growing colder, and the Academy was not kept warm always like her home was.

"I hope to teach more than just etiquette. To impart my experiences working on the field and the mistakes made. If my duty to heal those mistakes are any indicator of such a great number being made, I hope to teach these young minds to always be aware. There is strength in reading people, to see past decorum and to know how to conduct oneself in any situation where all eyes are watching the room." Her voice softened, recalling the several injuries and life threatening wounds she was tasked to heal. She learned quickly that she needed an outlet to balance the pain and suffering she had witnessed over the few years, and so her appointment here at the Academy was a welcomed reprieve from being sent out on the front line.

Salak

 

[Salak]

"I couldn't agree more. So often the soft power of manners is overlooked in favour of less, subtle persuasions."
Which reminded him again. He was almost ready to confront Harkenov, he just needed a bit more time.
"Indeed, in the Academy the walls have ears, and eyes. A bit of decorum can work wonders for ones image here. Tell me, you remain a Fourth Rank do you not?"
Now was time to prod, gently at first. Apply the soft power.
"I imagine Lord Felix cannot be happy with that. He famously expects nothing but excellence from the Urahil name."
He felt a pang of guilt as he said it. It was true but that didn't excuse it, least of all to himself.
Yet he had to know, had to know if she was here to spy for Urahil, if she would place her house above the Academy, above her Country and the sooner he knew the better. The sooner he could follow more promising leads.
Still it was hard knowing that his duty could stand in the way of being comrades but he was a Stalker first and a Proctor second.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

At the mention of Felix, Perrine soured her expression slightly by pulling her brows down into a frown. It was true that he aspired their House to do well, but he often did not extend his influence upon her. Not after their heated argument a few months after her admittance into the Dreadlord ranks.

"You see, as much as I have a right to rise in rank, I also enjoy the freedom I am awarded as Fourth Rank. It places me here, does it not? Close to the other prizes in the Urahil family." She would spare Salak the details of her arguments with Felix, as she was a true believer in not airing private information like that concerning herself. "I simply told him no other healer can do what I can, and that he should accept that verbatim."

Her intuition with the anatomy of a body and how it works were a marvel, and even going to the lengths of helping treat her father's mental illnesses... or at least learning how to reach the mind of someone. It was not control she sought, rather how she could help mend broken thoughts, to protect the fragile brain. Her aspirations were her own, not something that should involve Felix's input.


Salak

 

[Salak]

Salak's smile always sat ready upon his face even at the best of times.
So it was with it now as he attempted to be understanding of a desire coming into contact with a difficult person. He'd known that feeling.
"I'm pleased to hear it. You look as though you've already made yourself comfortable."
He changed the subject noting the personal touches Perrine had added to her office. Including the tea set. He guessed it was an heirloom but admitted to himself that he could be wrong.
"It warms the spirit to see someone flourish, even in small ways, here."
He wasn't lying but he had other motives for flattery.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

Perrine wore the ghost of a smile hearing his words, and inclined her head to the painting that hung behind her desk. "I am fortunate enough to have inherited the artistic eye of my mother. I never got the time to do what I wanted when I was working overtime with missions." Past the willow leaves swaying in a phantom wind, it revealed the true subject of her painting. A small spring glittered in the sunlight that filtered into the area, and Perrine captured it in such detail. It was her last painting before being shipped off to become a Dreadlord, worth skipping her class that day to make the trek with her supplies.

"My only wish was that I was here for the dance. Murders aside, I would of loved to see how awkward and unaware these Initiates are with proper dance routines..." And then her smile vanished with the thought that popped into her mind now. "Oh... It will be me that will be teaching them now..." She shrugged, lifting her cup and taking a measured sip without a sound.

"I intend to plant roots here. It may not be my first choice to be here, but I have a duty to my family, and a duty to serve Vel Anir. What about you, Proctor?"


Salak

 

[Salak]

Salak put his cup down and raised a napkin to his cheek. It felt like he was leaking he the wasn't. He masked the gesture by bringing it up and across his brow.
He'd been wondering that himself recently.
"First and always, the Republic. Who else?"
His eyes grew hard as he looked at Perrine. Such a blatant ask. He appreciated anyone with the gawl to say what they felt but knew it was wrapped in privileged thinking. The Urahil name held much sway, even here.
Still, it meant she could ask what he could only hint at.
"The name, Republic, I'm still getting used to it. Has the senate made move on Elf equality yet or is Senator Prazella and his lackeys still holding things up?"
One of his better segways he thought. It almost felt like a normal conversation.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

Perrine delicately scrunched her nose at the posed questions Salak brought up. Politics was a topic her father forbaded her from speaking at the dinner table, but that only made her want to learn more on it and form her own opinions. It was tragic that all her sources started and ended with her family.

She was conflicted, truthfully, and no matter how private this conversation would be in her office, Perrine Urahil kept a dutifully well rehearsed lie at her lips.

"Do we truly wish for equality or perhaps are we as people hesitant to give the elves such privileges and fear what they might do? We extend a hand of peace and respect, but what if the savages take that offering as our weakness?" Such debate had been heard in every which way in the halls of Urahil residences, and it make Perri feel without a voice repeating them now.

"As long as they do not threaten the livelihood of my family, then I do not have quarrel with them." It was her truth at least.

Salak

 

[Salak]

"Hmm."
A well echoed sentiment he'd heard before. Artful at least in its ability to vaguely suggest being both for and against but with one tell.
The use of the term "savage".
It urged Salak to poke a little more.
"That's where trust comes in I believe but then, I know that if I was treated as they have been I wouldn't trust a state that claims to offer liberation. Would you? Especially when the name changes but many of the people in power remain."
It was the question all Anirians faced. A trial of conscience between who they were and who they might yet be.

@Pirrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

Leaning back into her chair, Perrine sat up straight and assessed the man sitting opposite her. Periwinkle eyes then fell to her almost empty cup, and the healer went to pour herself a refill. As she slowly filled the cup with the still hot tea from the pot, Perrine spoke a soft tone.

"Truthfully, I must look at things the way I have seen and experienced it." She set down the pot and poised her hand at the side of her cup, finger curling to hold the golden painted handle. "You are perfectly right in saying so, but I also had no choice to worry over such a way of thinking. Not only was I deployed to heal those on the battlefronts of whatever skirmish the Dreadlords found themselves in, I also was summoned to private homes to heal wounds of people I would rather leave to bleed out." It mattered not if she were some gifted Dreadlord that could advance beyond the Fourth Rank, but Perrine did as she was asked to keep herself in good graces. Without the name Urahil, she would just be some other privileged noblewoman. There were not many like her, healers able to service the entire Vel Anir. She needed to make that known, to do these favours she rather not do and have people in her favour.

"It matters not what I see in the end, for I know that one day, I will be asked to heal those I would have not hesitated to engage with prior to the Revolution."


Salak

 

[Salak]

Who more trusted than a healer?
Salak adjusted himself in his seat and picked up his cooling tea.
She was guarded, that was good and troublesome.
"A pragmatic position." He agreed.
"There is much that can be learned from being at the side of the sick and dying. People often ramble in such states."
He smiled.
"I don't accuse you of anything. I'm simply a creature of habit. A spider among wolves. Forgive my boldness."
He put down his unfinished tea.

Perrine Urahil

 

[Perrine Urahil]

Perri simply smiled, a polite response that perhaps was a standard fallback for her. It was almost perfected, as something would be when wielded over years and years of taking orders from the family.

"Oh, but you are correct. Nonsense most of the time. Baseless accusations amd theories, often those sorts of thoughts get muddled in the mind of those departing." How many times had she been subjected to listening to that sort of drivel? Only so few Dreadlords would speak, confessing things only a healer's ear could hear amongst the dead silence. Once did she see the horror in their face as they came to pass, realising their dying words were heard by the Healer Urahil.

"Do the Initiates have basic understanding of stitching a wound, do you think? Perhaps I should educate them on how to keep themselves alive before a healer arrives." Proctor Urahil mused, smiling the same smile she wore previously. She was here only a short while before being summoned by Leander to cure the sunburn at his neck and shoulders, yet his lesson would differ to the sort she would offer the non Urahil Initiates...

Salak