Istimamen' Selu [Academie Arcana]

[Charybdis]

Set away from the bustle of the central area of Ethgan’tor, the Istimamen’ Selu stood in an impassive, stately manner, as if it was beyond the minor troubles of every day life. Made of the typical grey marble adorning its matching buildings, the Istimamen cut a demure angle along the skyline, occupying a humble single-floor on the intersection of two streets. Four walls rounded each side of the low, grassy knoll, bordering off the world of the Arcane to the world of the Material outside. The wall closest toward the street was lower than the rest, standing only half the height of the building as it ended in a rounded top. Tentative green vines crawled up the sides of the half-wall, spilling over towards the front in a tangle of oval leaves and cream star-shaped flowers. Rounded branches spread out past the boundary of the wall, shading both inside and out as the trees’ leaves opened underneath the light of the suns. A sweet, honey-like fragrance wafted in the air, blowing through the waves of breezes circulating around the ancient city. A smooth brick path twirled up towards the large, mahogany doors, breaking up the monotony of the jade carpet below. Tall cylindrical columns guarded the pathway solemnly, holding up a trellis covered in matching vines, shielding the suns’ rays from newcomers to the Istimamen’.

A bright brass plate was fastened securely to the stone wall at the left of the door, upraised against the surface of the marble with a matching wooden block set behind. The words “Istimamen’ Selu” had been carved into the metal, swirling in typical willowy Elvish script. The deeply-stained wood swung open seamlessly at the faintest sign of a newcomer’s approach, as if timed to precision by some gadget hidden within its grain. The Istimamen’ spread out to each side, classrooms flanking a center garden area. Archways had been carved in a successive pattern, breaking in to columns appearing to hold up the ceiling above. Matching mahogany doorways arched at the second wall behind the archways, creating a covered walkway of sorts around the flora. Each doorway had a golden plate, much like the one adorning the front entrance to the Istimamen’, placed upon its crossbeams, declaring the class taught specifically in that room. A small, stone-lined alcove was cut between each doorway, built into a permanent mailbox for each respective teacher. A few loose parchments flapped in the wind, crackling as they moved rhythmically. The line of doors stopped at the wall directly to the entrance’s left, ending in a corner of marble and vines.

The floor below quickly turned to precisely-cut marble blocks, leading into the walkway area around the garden. A low iron rail had been placed at about waist-height between the pillars, pausing every so often to allow entrance into the sanctuary. The center was left open and lacking a roof, allowing the strong beams of sunlight to bounce in and feed the plants inside. Off towards the far right corner of the garden, a shallow, sunken pool had been created. The craftsman had lined the watery area with translucent blue tile, enhancing its natural hue. A tiny stone edifice popped its head above the glossy surface of the water, happily spraying droplets onto the water lilies docilely floating upon the waves. A few carved benches sat in strategic places around the garden, hiding in heavily-foliated bushes and small fruit trees. An overwhelming sense of growth and heavy floral fragrance pervaded the air, tickling the senses of whoever entered its domain. Peace and tranquility followed close behind, heavy in the very breath of the air. In the Istimamen’, concentration, focus, and departure from real life was held paramount. For a moment, any Moriquendi student who garnered knowledge in its ancient halls could cut themselves off from the normal brightening, leaving all cares and worries behind at the entrance with their shoes. Its walls served as more than just keepers of the boundaries; the stone kept out the unwanted thoughts of Telath surrounding. The rich fragrance of the Arcana was enough to transport any student, young, and old, to a world without the cares and concerns of their previous one.

A large desk stood at the right hand side of the entranceway, barring complete passage into the interior halls of the Istimamen’. Piles of parchment, ink wells, and bound books sat in erratic angles upon the surface, acting as a clear indication of the quality of work churned out by the small registration office. A pale, thin Moriquendi girl sat quietly at her post, writing furiously with a feathered quill as she went about her daily work. Her pale grey hair was tied into a fancy knot, dangerously teetering the further she lowered her head. Small, wire-framed spectacles adorned the lower part of her nose as she bent about her work, completely ignorant of the world around her. A small candle in its matching stand stood unused in the corner of her desk, its melting wax frozen in the passage of time. Loose parchment flew from underneath the young girl’s elbow as she pushed on about her work, still oblivious to the entranceway or the small hum of bustle about the garden. She could easily catch sight of a newcomer to the Istimamen’ and complete her duties. There was no need to remain completely attentive at all times.

Sorcery Classes

Initiate - 500 crowns
Apprentince - 700 crowns
Journeyman - 1000 crowns

Song Classes

Initiate - 400 crowns
Apprentice - 650 crowns
Journeyman - 900 crowns

Special requests must be filed for training towards Master status.

[Lar'ial Est'iaran]

Brightening 1 of Cycle One
Ioannes to Imperos in the Season of Summer, of Era I of the Celestine Mandate (Current Pattern)
Era X Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening, the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad
Paradigm: The Truce of Demios and the Merfolk

Lar'ial slowly moved through the halls looking at the marble, and watching the other people that were also walking within this complex. She wondered to herself if this might be the right place for her to study, hone herself into a amazing elf. She watched the other elfs that were dressed in robes, and wondered if they were possibly professors of this academie. She looked at herself, and knew that she would have her work cut out for her self. She was not of the Major noble houses, she would not be treated with respect, and she would have to focus on her studies harder than everybody else. She hoped that they would allow her to work at the academie to pay offer training, but this was something that she would have to ask. As she approached the end of the hall, she noticed the very large desk, and the elf that was sitting behind it.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if i could study sorcery here. I haven't got any training, and I haven't got any money either. I was wondering if perhaps, I could work here at the academie to pay off my debt. I am a very hard worker, and I take pride in everything I do." she realized, that they might not need somebody working for them, that didn't have any skills at all, but it was worth a shot, wasn't it....

[Peach]

It seemed like an eternity before the Elven caretaker finally began to listen to what the new arrival was saying. Her eyes, framed in iron, seemed glued to the words that she was relaying furiously onto the page. Almost as if looking away would cause her an immense amount of pain. Eventually, she started, and snapped her head up to look at Lar'ial. "Oh! Serale, my name is Ra‘shell. Ra will do, though." A smile curled the corners of her lips before the Esh'laheir straightened her once hunched back. Honestly, she hadn't been expecting a customer that day. Life in Ethgan'tor was a bit... slow at times. It was a blessing when something interesting actually happened, no matter how wicked the deed had been. Perhaps this was just the idea of a light demeanor, and a dark ancestral history. "So, you have no payment whatsoever?" Ra sighed deeply, and began to shuffle through her papers.

"I suppose you could take the desk for the duration of your training." She had pity for the girl, even if the scholars wouldn't. The academy needed money to survive, but students to keep it alive as well. Besides, those old teachers needed to do their job anyway. Being lazy wouldn't do them any good. "Just... Don't tell anyone, alright?" Grinning sheepishly, she pulled a paper from the mess like she had known where it was all along. "Just be at classroom 4b tomorrow morning. Your tutor will be decided between now and then."

ooc: You can make the thread with her arriving. I'll mod it if you wish, but posting will get slow when the school year starts.

[Lar'ial Est'iaran]

Lar'ial's smile grew as the young lady said that she could work off her debt. She thought about the fact that she would be doing menial desk work, but also concidered the fact that she would be learning Sorcery too. She knew that she would have to find out where her family's wealth is kept. The only people that knew where it was were her parents, and of course she can't talk to the dead.

"Thank you so much ma'am, I shall be in the classroom bright and early. Also, thank you for the generous compromise that you have made as far as payment. I shall do my best!" she said excitedly, but with the dignity of a noble. She decided that she would have to go in search of her family's fortune, and also find a place to find some servants to keep the estate in top shape. With everything set at the academie, she turned and left the academie...

[Tiyribi Andares]

Timestamp: Dianara, Fourth Cycle of Cyraxtum, Winter.
Era X of the Age of the Darkening, Mageocracy of Julos the Mad.
Paradigm: Demios and the Merfolk reach a truce.

OOC: Teh, cheating so I can get this modded by da great Peachy.

Arcana had been in the blood of the Elves ever since Phedos' first creation of the Ke'trala at the foundations of the very world itself. Many cycles had passed since Tiyribi had first been introduced to the art as an initiate student in the city of Midpoint. The Imperial Alyssans, then her employers, had offered her a free and open opportunity to learn from one Mael'ren Fastpaws, a Cheetari Master Sorcerer who could speak almost as fast as he could teleport. That one brightening had easily changed the course of the young Esh'lahier's expected long life. That one brightening had seen a reawakening of her inborn affinity to the Arcane arts, stirring up the natural passions of her heart to learn more of the gentle workings of Ara and Vis and her capability to control each with the simple decision and will of her mind.

Having gained the eye of the House Yeranthas, Tiyribi had been able to experience many of Ethgan'tor's most honored educational facilities, mainly in the personage of one Rae'nia, priestess of Orod. The young Lady Andares had been priviledged to be tutored of the inner workings of the law and the politics of the secular world from the wise Pale Elf, opening yet more doors within what Tiyribi viewed as her destiny in the making. With the power of the knowledge of the Law on her side and a potent arsenal of Arcana skills, Tiyribi'd finally be able to mark the world of Telath with her presence, manuevering and averting the flows of time according to her influence and charisma. She'd finally be someone, do something, and, for once, bring honor to the reputation of her House. It wasn't a matter of repaying the bonds of familial love for Tiyribi; rather, it was a debt of honor, much as a soldier felt a need to obey his given oath to the force he had sworn to serve with. Being an Andares required Tiyribi to put aside her own petty desires for the greater good of House and people. She'd advance the influences of the Esh'lahier world onto the secular outside society while bringing a bit of prestige to her own personal name. Such a noble goal had to be more important than simple wants and desires.

Now Tiyribi found herself seeking out the Istimamen' Selu, the one Academie Arcana within the Holy City. She had heard a rumor that the school trained students in Sorcery; a quick inquiry to those few Ethgan'tor natives she was acquainted with had affirmed such a claim. Gods be praised. Tiyribi would be able to advance to the Apprentice level in her chosen sphere of Arcana and, perhaps, learn how to wield such power as never previously thought possible. Smiling quietly to herself, Tiyribi's quick footsteps approached the interest of the Istimamen' with alarming precision, bringing her quickly to the ornate door separating school from life. She'd learn here. She'd advance herself here. She'd finally find some meaning and worth within herself here. She simply had to.

Tentatively the young Esh'lahier Elf approached the front desk, her hands nervously twisting in the loose fabric of her skirt. A slight cough noisily left the Elf's throat in a polite attempt to garner the young desk clerk's attention without being too intrusive. "Good brightening," Tiyribi greeted, opting to use her native Esh'lahier despite its rounded accent to avoid possible discomfort on the girl's part with Charismean, "I've come to inquire about apprentice Sorcery classes. I was told by a representative of House Yeranthas that I would be able to receive them here. Perhaps they've alerted you to my coming? No matter if they haven't; I can arrange things myself." Smiling with an almost warm politeness, Tiyribi regarded the other Esh'lahier carefully, her amethyst eyes watching each move the other made to judge the truth of her own assumptions. Perhaps the noble house hadn't told the faculty of the Istimamen' of Tiyribi's imminent arrival. It really wouldn't be that much of an inconvenience; seven hundred crowns for lessons to last a lifetime was a petty price to pay.

[Peach]

Nobles. The city was rife with them. No longer did it impress Ra'shell to see one with ties to the monarchy walking about the city, nor did their fancy words strike her as anything of added importance. As with the other citizens of Ethgan'tor, she accepted the nobility for what it was: a system of leadership. Merely beings privileged enough to be born into the correct family... Divine right had nothing to do with it. Although the children of the Houses earned some sort of celebrity due to their age-old names, it wasn't with the same endearing reverence that one could find in the Empire. But Tiyribi was different. Born outside of the city, into a noble family that had barely been recognized as such, she still retained a sense of mystery. Who were the Andares? This question was the one that raised levels of curiosity, which subsequently led to the young dark elf receiving some sort of attention. And, for that reason, the clerk of the Arcanic Academy was looking forward to Tiyribi's arrival.

Not following her usual routine of gradual acknowledgement, Ra'shell was immediately aware when the Esh'laherian woman walked through the grand doors of the Academy. Removing the spectacles that allowed for her tired eyes to read the small print on myriad documents, she carefully studied the newcomer. The Andares Lady was pretty, one could say... Perhaps eerily perfect, in the eyes of the short-lived, but acceptable to a member of her own race. Ra'shell didn't weigh too much into appearance, anyway, which could most likely be observed through her rather disheveled physique. Casually, she brushed a strand of light ashen hair out of her twilight-colored eyes, allowing for her gaze to once again fix unwaveringly upon the foreign noble. "Yes, I was told of your arrival... And I am aware that they have given you a scholarship, of sorts." They had, quite obviously, been pleased with her performance in Law to give her yet another gift of knowledge.

Although Tiyribi didn't know it, exactly, her family in general had been approved in the eyes of the Star house. The young woman needn't have searched for a position in politics to bring some sort of name to the Andares... They had come into favor, like an adopted child or pet could to a wealthy parent. Yet, when one took pride into account, it would be more logical to actually earn one's goodwill. For, to the dark elven kind, respect was more valuable than any sort of patronizing praise. "We've already filed and accepted your application to the Academy, along with the payment. You're free to start next brightening, if you wish. The class will be held in room 5b, by Sorcerer Kyetrih U'ilkwe" Ra'shell smiled knowingly, turning her gaze back towards the papers that she was falling behind on marking. Lady Andares would certainly find that one... Interesting.

ooc: I'll get the thread up asap, chica (:

[Tiarela Iceglitter]

Timestamp: Midbrightening
It is Aslanica, Brightening Five of Cycle One
The Month of Junctior, Autumn of Era I of the Celestine Mandate
Era X Post Fractum, in the Age of Darkening: The Mageocracy of Julos the Mad
Paradigm: Mystique Threatens Rebellious Frigid River[/b]

Timestamp is Peach Approved.

It was a longshot, really. She didn't know if they did or not, but she'd been told that Ethgan'tor's people were (as Tiarela had put it at least) really into Arcana.. So perhaps.. perhaps they did. See, the problem was -- Tiarela was a Mystic. Or at least, wanted to be a mystic. At the moment, she was indeed an initiate, having learned under the instruction and care of Dene, a wonderful wonderful Master on the Island of Arios that was quite.. well, eccentric and somewhat feminine. Perhaps she'd be able to return and see him again.. But she'd love it if the return could be made with the knowledge expanded under the guidance of another Master in the art here in Ethgan'tor.

With these thoughts, Tiarela Iceglitter brought herself to 'Istimamen'Selu'. Not that she could even venture to pronounce the place yet, and probably wouldn't even remember it after anyone pronounced it for her. Elvish languages flowed like the Fae'len she was used to, but still sounded quite different in her miniscule ears. It was a very pretty place, this Academy of Arcana. Tiarela had hoped that was what it was, anyway. Getting directions around here was never hard, but the names themselves always sent her for a loop. After all, the girl couldn't even speak Commonspeak or Fae'len fluently, what made them think the poor thing could speak.. Esh'lahier?! The woman behind the desk was someone Tiarela heard before she saw her. The little blue, translucent wings bore her up above the desk after the faerie deemed it unfit to be standing upon given the volitale nature of everything the woman was working on so far. She seemed to be writing so furiously -- faster than Tiarela could beat her wings, or move her hands, or even blink her eyes at least.

Clearing her throat in hopes that she didn't startle or anger the woman, Tiarela tried to catch her attention..
"Ecc... Excuse me, Miss. I.. hope I'm in the right place -- not too good with the native language, around here you see." She explained, a little embarrassed. Her paled cheeks reddened slightly and she let a sheepish smile spread her face. "But hoping this is the Arcana academy in Ethgan'tor.. I was interested in enrolling. But ah, I'm a student of Mysticism, and it looks like you don't.. teach.. that.. here, do you." Tiarela sighed dejectedly. Blast! Well.. maybe. She could ask about it anyway, perhaps someone who was stopping through and needed a bit of work was 'round, or someone actually knew Mysticism but didn't want a lot of students or something?.. Hey, it could happen.. right..? Augh.
"Well, I can still ask though I guess? Is.. there any possible way I might be able to enroll in.. Apprentice Mysticism?" Oooh, Tiarela hoped. She closed her eyes tight and hoped as hard as she could hope.

Maybe lady luck.. or.. well whoever controlled fates up there would swing in her favor. Just perhaps. Tiarela hoped so, as she was very passionate about Mysticism (and the possible following of Kaimela, among other things). It would be a bit depressing if the answer was just a simple no or something but hey, whatever. It never hurt to ask, even if it meant that your hopes got dashed anyway. Ah but did the faerie hope. Hopefully the receptionist had stopped her work long enough to listen, too. That way Tiarela wouldn't be so afraid of the desk trying to upset her itself with all the furious writing and movement happening therein, as desks normally do when being used in such mannerisms.

[Peach]

A long sigh escaped Ra'shell's lips, causing the pale elf's steel-framed glasses to slip rather humorously down her nose. Extending two thin fingers out of habit, the clerk pushed her spectacles back in their rightful place. Such an annoyance... But staring so closely at documents for candlemarks on end had ravaged her close-up vision. One couldn't blame the girl for daydreaming every once in a while, the quill that had been so rapidly in motion falling lazily from her hand. Resting one arm upon the desk, she lay her head down, eyewear immediately becoming askew. At the moment, however, it did not matter... Dusk-colored orbs slid shut, fanciful images dancing upon their dark sides. For a few seconds, she wondered around the whereabouts of the strange, brooding sorcerer... Not that the poor girl would ever have a chance. Frowning, she righted herself, setting her glasses upon her face once more. She was there to work, and work she would.

But when would this pass? Ra'shell had held her position for a pattern, completing the pathway to becoming a Master, herself. Constant involvement with paperwork paid for her lessons, and for lodging, allowing the dark elf to proceed without guilt. The debts seemed endless... Arcana was a priceless thing, and it wasn't hard to believe that the Academy was making her work so hard for it. Chin in hand, she stared towards the door, idly making guesses about who would enter next. A fresh-faced novice, perhaps, unaware of the challenges that the mind could face. Or would it be someone more experienced, with knowledge of their own? Stop delaying! You have fifteen documents to finish by the end of this candlemark. Ra'shell redoubled her efforts, pen scratching against the parchment at a furious pace. Upsetting her mentors again with lateness was the last thing that she wanted...

So absorbed in her work, the Esh'laheir did not notice Tiarela until she spoke. With a start that sent her spectacles to hand from a single pointed ear, Ra'shell jerked her head upwards, eyes unfocused for a brief period of time. The simple fact of the dark-haired woman's size lent itself to the clerk's surprise. In all honesty, she had been expecting the usual pale hair and skin of one of her kind. "Oh!" Her voice had turned small, as if it were coming from a far distance, as the dark elf thought about Tiarela's question. It did not take long for her to arrive upon a conclusion, not even a brief excursion through her paperwork was needed. Righting the overturned, and thankfully empty, ink well, Ra'shell began to answer. "Yes, I'm sure that it can be arranged. There is a Master Mystic in the city that is willing enough to teach, Mistress Rae'nia. The apprentice course costs six hundred and fifty crowns." A high price, but one worth the infinite power that Arcana could possibly give. Removing a blank strip of parchment as if by magic from the disarray of the desk, she presented it and the quill to Iceglitter. "If you would sign your name, age, race, and residency, we will be able to start the class within a brightening, in room 3a."

[Eir'helm Mithania]

'Early Winter'

An outcast in a city of traitors the young elven man slipped through the streets with his hood bound tightly to his form. Not for fear of the dark elves that called this their home but for the chill that passed though the marble cityscape carried on the winds. The young man lacked an instrument even as the kept pet to the future queen and the newest young bard to the king. Still he hoped to explore the chance that he could find a chance to further his schooling in the paths music could take.

Eir'helm's voice wasn't masterful, far from it and his use of skins while better could improve. It was however his voice which provided a rhythm for his stride. Ethgan'tor was a jewel, a gem hidden from the empire. A body dedicate to these elves, Phedos's children were free here and safe here without the taint of man or allerian. It was a promise of what Silrosia could be.

Ethgan'tor was beautiful.

The faint song on his lips an exception, as the simple tune was one formed by an old emperor on his assault of Moonstone... It was the slightest paradox that the bard failed to realize and an invasion he would have avoided if it were seen.

In entering the school the young lord removed his shoes and left them by the portal only to cross towards the thin girl who served as keeper. Pulling his hood down and bowing his head softly to the female Eir'helm did what he could to manage these local customs. He didn't try to hide his birth but smiled faintly.

"Pardon me cousin."

The smile faded for only a moment as he spoke out in the silrosian accent to the elven tongue.

"I was hoping to study with you."

[Peach]

Eir'helm

This brightening was not for happiness, nor was it dedicated to work. The pen seemed idle in Ra'shell's hand as she inscribed meaningless words onto voluminous sheets of paper, candlemark in and out... Her sensitive ears could only hear the rain. It pattered upon the roof, it pounded the skies with thunder and rent them with lightening. Along with winter, the rainy season had come. Icy, whipped about by the wind of far-off seas, it brought gloom into the holy city, already weighted heavily with other troubles. Sighing, the Esh'laheir rested her chin upon her hand, fingers slipping the wire-brimmed things from her eyes. Wearing them so much was starting to give her a headache... Since the death of the Queen, her paperwork had seemed to double. Drearily, she looked down to the half-written word upon the parchment, its spidery letters staring back at her in defiance. Frustrated, the girl pushed it aside, a scowl appearing upon the sharp angles of her face.

Write, write, it's all they want me for! Never did the Masters question her ability to do other things. It built discipline, they said, readying her for a position in the world of the dark elves. Ra'shell did not see any benefit in the uncountable figures that she had relayed to page... If anything, it only built up her animosity towards the system and what it stood for. Was not Arcana meant to be something more? Now, they were readying their purses for another transition of leadership. No one knew what the future would hold... Whether this Queen arrived from the outside world would be sufficient or not. They could only prepare, could only make the scratching of quills all the more predominant. The pale elven female bit her lip, running hands through her silver hair in an idle gesture of boredom. Work wasn't preparation. It was only a pain.

Footsteps. For once, Ra'shell noticed them. They traveled against the steady beat of the rain, deliberate slowness contrasting its fluid hum. Who would come to learn on so gray a brightening? Winter was, indeed, the time to rest... When to green leaves fell from their trees, and the flowers hid beneath the earth. Unlike nature, magic never took a break. Continuing onwards, a steady stream, it felt almost impossible to stop. Who had come, with their meaningless crowns, to purchase the wisdom that she worked so desperately for? Rubbing sleepiness from her eyes, Ra'shell raised her head, to see the friend or intruder that had decided to enter the vaulted halls. Steel orbs widening in shock, the feather hanging lazily from her hand fell to the table. A disturbance, indeed... Light elves were not allowed within the city, whether scholarly and peaceful or malicious and murdering. Cousins? Perhaps some would call them that. They were, after all, made from the same sacred things.

None, however, would have the gall to call them relatives. None, aside from the man who stood so respectfully before her. Eyelids drooping with distrust, Ra'shell surveyed the insignia of house Linalantava upon his clothing. So, they had taken fancy towards the man... With such important figures behind him, the girl had not the power to turn Eir'helm away. His footsteps, with the leave of the Sun House, were allowed to profane the hallowed grounds. And yet, the manners that he presented did not go without the slightest nod of acknowledgement. A lowly light elf, yes, but one with rudimentary understanding of their culture. Mustering up every bit of noble posture and presence inside of her slender form, the girl curtly straightened her back and tilted her head. The light elven language poured from her mouth with only the slightest hint of an Esh'laheir accent, her education showing clearly in her words. "What sphere do you wish to study, and in which level? The Academie welcomes all who seek knowledge." All... In a certain, rather narrow range.

ooc: Please include a time stamp (: I'm assuming that Eir'helm has the sigil of Linalantava evident on him, somewhere, so that he can be relatively safe.

[Eir'helm Mithania]

Work?

The young elven male had never known the very concept of work. The greatest pain endured for his studies was the refusal of his last tutor to allow him to indulge fully in drink, leaf or even anothers kind company for a darkening. It was however the work joined with the likewise youths rigid response to his company that caused the slightest concern for the lightborn bard. Having truly never seen one do such a task within Moonwillow it seemed exotic if not still boring and of the ladys posture. Well it was not unexpected even if it was far from a comfort.

They were cousins, joined in Phedos and all born from a single grain of sand. Vysstichi and their pale siblings, the waters breathers and even the winged children of Ke'trala were one. Each had more potential in that shared line then the best of men could dream off. So while she couldn't be afforded a true sense of trust without question there was an mild affection. The worst elf had more merit then the grandest of any other line.

The Silrosian born passed an eye to his hosts efforts however trying to capture something of what she had been working on. The bard had assumed that if she were so diligent that it would need to be something of value.

Poetry?

Stories of Esh'lahier myth?

The puzzle slipped from the youths unsealed lips. ".. What are you worki..." before the male realized his invasion of what may have been a personal process. The smile flickered again faintly as the thin peer nodded to his basic grasp of their refined ways.

"I am sorry for my rudeness cousin. My name is Eir'helm Mithania. I had hoped to further my studies beyond my basic instruction in the command of rhythm, tone and the magic they shape... perhaps you could help me find a goodly tutor?"

[Tiarela Iceglitter]

Oh, good! Tiarela beamed with happiness and proceeded to pull the money from a pouch inside her backpack. Well, the banknote form. Tiarela wasn't able to just carry around all those crowns, you know. It would weigh a poor faerie down, it would, and being weighed down while flying just wouldn't do!
"Brilliant!" beamed the faerie, "That's just grand!"
The little faerie borrowed the offered quill and signed over the banknotes and whatnot, then began to fill out the blank parchement with what the receptionist had requested of her.

Name, age, race, residency. Easy enough. Putting quill to parchment (and flying a bit to direct the blasted thing, as it was quite large for her size, even if she was quite a tall faerie. Actually, that probably helped her out quite a bit. Sometimes tall was a good thing.)

Name: Serale! My name is Tiarela Iceglitter, how do you do? Hmm, very proper. Yes, proper was good! Tiarela grinned and continued.

Age: One hundred and fourty-five patterns... and a lot of brightenings?
Race: I'm a Faerie!
Residency: Uhm.. Well, I'm in a room at the Mith'Sereg, so I guess that's it for now.

When she was finished, Tiarela handed the large quill and the parchment back over to Ra'shell with a small smile on her face. Room three-A. She could remember that. Next brightening too, eh? Hmm. Tiarela could manage that too, wasn't like there was much else she was doing in Ethgan'tor. Not that any of this was planned, as most of Tiarela's life was full of sporadic decisions and irrational thought. But then again, she was an irriational lady.
"Room 3a, next brightening, with Misstress Rae'nia, you said? Well, if that is all, then I suppose I shall be back here next brightening."
On retrospect, Tiarela had never filled out a lot of forms. To Ra'shell, the form she just answered probably looked funny. She'd answered it like she was talking to the paper. Poor Tiarela, she was so innocent and so wise at the same time. But alas, that was the odd, ironic parallel that came with being a faerie. It was rare to find one that was still so much like the true faes, though. None of this nonsense about growing up -- Tiarela Iceglitter would never quite grow up.

[Peach]

Eir'helm

Even unfinished, Eir'helm's question still brought meaning along with it. Just like many other members of her rather critical race, Ra'shell immediately began to dissect the nature of his meaning, the wheels of her sharp mind spinning into work. He obviously had little experience with earning his way in the world... The girl could see such a thing, shining obviously from the way that he looked at her so innocently. Many of those who had been faced with the challenges that life could throw at them would have viewed her with respect, rather than confusion. Perhaps this was how all light elves decided to work their way through the masses... By not approaching them at all. No wonder they had such a hard time securing political power, or other such things. Too busy pursuing what did not benefit them, they lagged behind races that were still constantly developing. Their mere age was more of a curse, than a benefit. A sort of hardness entered her subtle smile as she looked at him again, fancies of her race's supremacy reinforced by his image.

She had something that he did not... Whether the touch of Haya was admonished by the foolish light-born, or simply accepted, it had done the Esh'laheir just as much good as harm. With it, they could grow, could understand the selfish ways of the Humans and other such people. That little bit of extra magic added to their blood had gifted them beyond comprehension of such rigid beings. Eir'helm had brought himself to a beautiful place, indeed, but one that was highly critical of his every movement and whim. In Ethgan'tor, whether such a fancy was true or not, the man represented his entire race. They did not have the time to leave and appraise multiple individuals of such a like kind. Although they were a step above the Humans, that alleviation was ever so slight. In the eyes of many pale elves, they were merely a tool, or something not to be noticed.

Silrosia, and all other places that housed the lightlings, had rejected their help so many patterns ago... Such a blow to the Esh'laheirian pride would never, could never be completely forgotten. It was irrational, in their eyes, for anyone to think something different. Too full of themselves to lower their constant veil of aloofness while around ones of another race, they only distinguished differences and widened valleys of discontent. "Song?" It was just like a light elf to extend his words so needlessly, trying to flaunt an intelligence that he did not entirely have. At least he was not an Unbound, crawling to them for his mind's shackles to be released. As slowly as was possible, Ra'shell withdrew a form from her pile of papers, turning it towards the man with a raised brow. "Enter your name, race, as residency upon this... Apprentice classes will cost six hundred and fifty crowns. If you are able to pay this, they will start in three brightenings, in room 4a." One of a more acceptable breed would have earned a quicker waiting time... But Ra'shell felt far from rushed.

Tiaz

A small chuckle escaped her pale lips as she watched the girl's natural struggle with the quill. Faeries always seemed to self-sufficient when fluttering about town, purchasing whatever they wished with those carefully-folded bank notes. Ra'shell had never much considered the problems that they had to face in everyday life... Writing was, most likely, only one of those things. Small pens could likely be made for them, yes, but they would have to write rather large for the words from their small hands to be readable. The clerk quickly stifled her girlish amusement, not wanting to offend the little woman before her. It wasn't Iceglitter's fault that she had so much difficulty, nor anything inside of her that could have caused stupidity. She was an intelligent Fae, the observant dark elf could tell. Who was not a little childish, from time to time? They were all young, at one time...

Though, looking at the rather conversational application, Ra'shell could see that her customer was far from being naive. Why, the blue-winged woman was older than herself! Arching her brows in surprise, she looked up towards Tiarela, trying to spot any sign of age. Before that point, she had always thought of her own race as the oldest and the wisest... Perhaps the energetic actions of the Fae people had their own merit, as well. "Thank you, Miss Iceglitter, I'm sure that the Mistress will look forward to teaching you." It was not a lie, either. Rae'nia appreciated a good mind, and a quick wit. Qualities that the young humanoid seemed to hold in abundance. Why, even her application was written in a clever way. That this was made purely out of innocence was a thought that barely crossed Ra'shell's mind... It was simply too amusing to be disapproved of.

[Eir'helm Mithania]

The young woman saw a failing in the ethic of her guest in the academie arcane and her guest likewise saw flaws. He had offered the young woman his name in a kind attempt at an introduction but she had refused to realize the common manners of balancing the social advantage. So be it if the dark elf were to be so untrained in grace and drawn to the dull papers.

Song? Of course the thing was song as addressed so bluntly, so blandly by the child and his peer. His peer? It was a sad thing that one could admit and the elf wished to only sigh painfully at the concept. She was an elf, one of Phedos's own but in that light was hardly worth a passing moments attention for the immaturity was obvious.

He wouldn't submit himself to the child's drive for the mindless, the pointless need for these forms and paperwork. It was the use of these forms to recall students which left the youth more then a desire to sigh or role is eyes but instead spit on the very nature of these pale ones. Man demanded all things be named and organized by rank and form instead of simply embraced and enjoyed.

Room numbers? Paperwork? Any and all elegance offered by the school was cast off as quickly as the image of a nude orc would serve. Eir'helm wouldn't make the distain for the method the school valued clear as the elves wanted to be nothing more then pointy eared humans. He wouldn't make it clear that he wouldn't share a word with any bard who lacked the gifts of sense and bound themselves to coin and forms. There was no introduction, No interview by the soul to whom one would be bound and instead this fool of a girl and her order of coins.

Perhaps the Esh'lahier truly weren't worth the breath or had allowed the ways of man to rot away better methods.

"I am sorry but I was hoping I could have a name or two cousin." A false but kind smile came to the young elf as he bowed his head slightly. It was another reminder of the value of manners and of the role each had to maintain in their use. "I was hoping I might have your name so I would have some word more then cousin to call you by. That and the name of the soul who might be my mentor if I am suitable. I would like to know the person to who i am to be bound too and where i might find him or her for a word."

With that the elf moved to leave his entire savings, a total of five hundred crowns on the table before the young woman. Eir'helm hoped it might be enough to sate her need for coin for the brightening.

"I can likely get more if given a few brightenings... if it's a problem."