The Eternal Ebullition (Apprentice Sorcery, Tiyribi)

[Peach]

Dark clouds, rolling in from over the sea, painted the horizon with shades of ebony. The storm, or malicious effects of the ominous weather, had yet to reach the pious city of marble. Enclosed in its sphere of mystical illusion, the people of Ethgan'tor enjoyed the mood-lifting effects of the clear winter sun, turning their heads to avoid the sight that would inevitably overcome them. To those who weren't used to it, the light shining off the pristine white stone could be blinding... Newcomers to the city kept their heads bowed, missing the fantastic sights around them to tend to watering eyes and faint head aches. Kyetrih, Master Sorcerer, was one of these unfortunate individuals. Too many candlemarks spent inside dark offices, discussing political affairs with the minds of the city, had taken its toll upon his affinity with nature. Mentally urging the storm clouds onwards, the Esh'laheir did his best to traverse the city without incident. Like a child taking their first glimpse of the world, he squinted his eyes to check that the building at which he arrived was the correct one.

Then again, it was hard to mistake the lovely monolith that was the Academy for anything else. Blinking the last of the sun spots from his eyes, the dark elf entered through the grand archways and made his way towards the room where his student was to be trained... A fact about which Kyetrih was still quite bitter. Linalintava had offered their most skilled mage as a mere professor to save face. The ever-popular Yeranthas wouldn't be allowed all the glory of raising this girl to greatness. And what fools we will be if she amounts to nothing. His thin lips twisting into a smile, the Esh'laheir turned the knob to room 5b and crossed the threshold. Closing the door behind him, Kyetrih walked with his slightly stiff gait to the single desk in the room and placed his light bag on its surface. Thankfully, this wasn't an initiate class, requiring papers that described each step of the mechanics of Arcana.

Standing there, waiting for a likely overbearing newly-created noble, the dark elf almost wished that he had refused the request. Who was Skapheddin to ask him to waste precious time on such a petty soiree? With the Queen's health failing slowly, and the Prince off to his most mortal affairs, the advisor had practically been running the city through the King... To be so suddenly directed had come as a shock to the man who was more used to the control of power than the bratty heirs, themselves. Crossing his long, thin arms, Kyetrih leaned against the wall to sulk and meddle about in his most bitter thoughts. Most of it was taken out on poor Tiyribi, the one who was least responsible for the unfolding of events. He imagined her as a short, bubbling adolescent, not deserving of the unlimited power that sorcery could offer her... Did anyone fresh out of their Initiate class ever understand? To truly know, one had to become completely immersed in their art. It had to be more important to them than the suns, the moon, or the stars.

Through this philosophy, many Sorcerers and other mages became recluses, their ideology on life skewed through the ever-present curtain of the arcanic realm. The pale elf was one such person, the magic always present at the corners of his mind... It was almost as if Kyetrih had an unstoppable addiction, overwhelming every aspect of his life. A perceptive being could almost see this in his stance, the way that his acid-green eyes constantly seemed interchangeably distant and focused. Perhaps it was his appearance that had originally made him so secluded. Every part of him seemed cold, from his milky white skin to the way that his hair failed to shine in the light. The angular features of his face looked to be the faintest bit over exaggerated, as if a clueless artist too intent upon showing his dark heritage had carved them. He was almost abnormally tall, and subsequently lithe, with limbs long enough to barely border on unnatural. Unmoving, he waited, with the never ending patience of the elven race, interspersed with the rioting thoughts of his Aeternian touch...

[Tiyribi Andares]

The mysteries of the Houses of the higher echelon of Ethgan'tor still seemed strange and unnatural to Tiyribi, despite her ever-deepening tie with the House Yeranthas. Every move, every motion seemed to have an ulterior motive, all moving to one set goal usually involving the advancement of the House in power, wealth or influence. How, exactly, Tiyribi had caught the eye of Yeranthas and now the ruling House of Linalintava stupified the young Esh'lahier Elf to no end. House Andares was but lower peerage in the eyes of the secular Empire; their name carried precious little weight among the actual Esh'lahier Elven circles, particularly in Ethgan'tor. Tiyribi had no terribly outstanding talents or reputation to precede her. She was but an ambitious young soul eager to fulfill a self-made debt of honor to her family and House. Who was she to gain entrance to the hallowed educational institutions of the city of Ethgan'tor, let alone with open arms and doors?

Here she was, though, approaching the appointed classroom to meet with her newest Master in Sorcery. Hopefully, if she proved herself worthy and capable enough, the young Pale Elf would find her Vis expanded and achieve the level of Apprentice in her chosen sphere before the month was out. Arcana and politics...ah, the opportunities both fields presented to the young Elf so intent upon making her mark on Telath as a whole. The slighest doubt weaved into the corners of Tiyribi's mind, however, as to her choice of Arcane discipline, as it often did when she contemplated the decisions of her life. Why had she chosen Sorcery over the other slightly more useful skills, like, say, Mysticism? Creating a Force Bolt didn't accomplish as much for the discreet politician as being able to read the opponent's mind. Memories of her Initiate lessons, however, quickly shrugged that thought off. No, when Tiyribi entered her state of Clara and began to sense the Essence of Force all about her, she knew Sorcery had been divinely ordained to be her study. The raw feeling of power running through her subconscious into the Material was a sensation she wouldn't have traded for all of Telath.

Dressed in her typical green hood and skirts, the young Lady Andares approached the white marble building chosen to be the place of the advancement of her newest studies in the Arcane. Her hand gently enfolded the doorknob to the room 5b, her bright eyes searching out the appropriate identification. The receptionist at the Istimamen' had said 5b, correct? It seemed as if eras had passed since Tiyribi had first enrolled in classes at the Arcane Academie; her mind had fogged over with the clouds of time and confusion. She was already slightly later than her appropriate time, but it'd be a worse faux paus to enter the inappropriate room and break another student's concentration. Sighing inwardly, the Elf attempted to pull up whatever scraps of memory she could from the recesses of her mind, eagerly presenting them to her consciousness in a hope she'd be offered some surety she was in the right place. Precious minutes were passing while she performed her mental exercises; her teacher was most likely growing annoyed at her lack of appearance.

Finally twisting the door knob in its seat, the young Esh'lahier tentatively pushed the door open to the room 5b, amethyst orbs searching out any sign of life inside. No student was present in the room currently, although it seemed to be occupied by a rather stern-looking male Elf. Tiyribi attempted the most polite smile she could muster in her rather flustered state as she pulled the rest of her lithe form through the self-made crack in the door, her pale features crossing with an expression of apology, whether for her tardiness or intrusion. "Greetings," she quickly called out in her native Esh'lahier, her level of embarrassment growing exponentially with each passing moment. Whether or not this was indeed her teacher, the young Elf certainly wasn't make a sparkling first impression on what appeared to be a high-level mage. "I'm sorry, but I was told to come here for Apprentice Sorcery lessons. Am I in the correct place? I was a bit confused in the hallways with all the doors..."

[Peach]

Punctuality was never a criteria for the Esh'laherian man. There was always something getting in the way of arriving on time, whether this hindrance was simply unclear directions, or something of a more important stature. Although Tiyribi was embarrassed by her excusable actions, Kyetrih thought nothing of them... He had been late enough times in his life to become immune to its effects. As many others of his elderly race had thought beforehand, what was a few minutes in a life that could extend a thousand patterns? Sensitive ears picking up the slight creak of the door on its hinges as the Lady entered, Kyetrih kept his head lowered and eyes closed. Somehow, listening to the first words spoken by a being gave him further insight into their character. When one's first impression was altered by a physique, that meeting had a low probability of being pure. Her accent, somewhat rural sounding, was quite surprising. The pale elf had thought her to be a noble, before... It wasn't common that one of high status chose the more agricultural of lives. Had she been discovered later on? Maybe her name held the title, yet her veins did not flow with the blood.

None of that mattered, since Tiyribi had entered the class room. She would be judged upon her merit as a mage, not her contributions or lack thereof to society. Arcana, as a subject, was one of the most complex, but also quite direct. Creating a spell involved many processes, all executed in the manner of seconds, or even fractions. And yet, the outcome of a mystic force could not be denied, or altered. It either succeeded in force, or failed in weakness. For Kyetrih, there were no in-betweens, no gray area, no second chances. He had enough of considering all sides while convincing the King of a lofty matter... Magic was an escape. So simple, yet elegant, accessible by all, yet intolerable towards some. He had been lucky enough to be born into symbiosis with the arcane material, his people blessed by mixed Gods with the talent that they could both build and abuse. The dark elf had done both in his life, there was no escaping that fact.

But they were no Mystics... The private contents of neither minds would be subject to appraisal that brightening. And was this not for the best? If one read the thoughts of another, did they not deserve like consequences, themselves? Many had asked Kyetrih why he picked Sorcery over Mysticism. His reasons were similar to Tiyribi's. Although unconventional on the political spectrum, the magic of pure energy tapped the most into his soul... The Esh'laheir would have studied no other, no matter what benefits they provided. "Many are." Letting the highly-developed magical sensors of his self roam free, the Master scanned Tiyribi's once-invisible Vis. As was expected from one so recently yearning for an escape from Initiate status, he could not help but feel slightly disappointed. The work of her past teacher had been shoddy, indeed... The Lady Andares was not even yet Promoted. Then again, this could not all be blamed upon her previous instructor. They did have to handle the rather unwieldy task of Unbinding, after all.

After what may have seemed like an eternity for Tiyribi, Kyetrih finally acknowledged her presence with his toxic-tinted eyes. "I see that you will be needing Promotion, my Lady. If you agree, I shall proceed... If you would, however, a question should be answered beforehand. Why do you intend upon becoming proficient in the art of Sorcery?" The Sorcerer's voice was fittingly calm and quiet, quite unlike the booming counterpart that many male humans sported. Since the elves had a heightened sense of hearing, there was no need for such raised pitches among them. On Tiyribi's part, an insufficient answer would not completely ruin her chances of completing her training, but an intelligent one wouldn't hurt, either. It had to be understood that at times, one could simply not explain their reasons for study... It simply fit, seemed to be a part of them. In silence, he waited.

[Tiyribi Andares]

The slightest raising of a single pale eyebrow indicated the unspoken question Tiyribi felt in her mind as she finally viewed Kyetrih carefully, her initial feelings of embarrassment washing away in a newborn curiousity of her probing mind. He seemed young, particularly for one who had Mastered the Arcane ways of the Sorcerer. His lack of age spoke well of his talents with the Arcane, unless, of course, the House Linalintava had meant to humiliate Tiyribi with offering a lower-level mage incapable of promoting Tiyribi to the level of Apprentice. That idea seemed silly though, and completely illogical, particularly in view of the House's efforts in raising Tiyribi's causes and abilities completely free of obligation. Why would the ruling house of Ethgan'tor taint their efforts of generosity with Vysstichi-like trickery? Such a thing wouldn't make sense, particularly among the upstanding people of the Esh'lahier living within their own hallowed city.

Still, Kyetrih struck the young Esh'lahier Lady as rather strange, although she couldn't quite place her finger on the cause. Perhaps it was his closed-eye viewing of her initial entry, or his strangely curt answer to her previous apology. In the presence of Mael'ren, her former Cheetari instruction, Tiyribi had felt humbled and yet comfortable at the same time, albeit a formal comfort between the hyperactivity of the Katta Sorcerer. With Kyetrih, however, Tiyribi felt a more natural comfort and ease, almost as if she was his equal in a way despite the disparity between their skills in Arcana. It was a foolish feeling, most likely, but Tiyribi couldn't banish it from her mind or heart, stubbonly overruling whatever more proper thoughts of respect and humility in the presence of one so skilled with the Essence of Force. Thinking one's self improperly more important than current circumstances allowed was the epitome of pride and inevitably led to the downfall of many a noble spirit. Apprentice Sorcery classes might not have been the end of Telath, but they certain held importance to Tiyribi and, it seemed, to House Linalintava.

"Promotion?" Tiyribi repeated questioningly, eyes sparkling with renewed interest. The Arcane term remained unfamiliar to her; perhaps Mael'ren had failed to mention it in her Initiate lessons due to his own oversight or her inability to comprehend. The former was easily imagined due to the Katta's exciteable nature; the latter was probable, although disheartening to consider. Still, Tiyribi was but one young Esh'lahier among a thousand other aspiring souls much like her own. She had no said claimant upon the realm of the Arcane, no specific skill to set her apart from the myriads of other students beginning to embark upon the paths of learning. Perhaps she had failed in whatever task Mael'ren had given her and, as a result, failed in undergoing the rite of Promotion.

The question of turning from her lessons and opportunity to advance her skills beyond the beginning level weighed too greatly on her heart for Tiyribi to turn them aside out of fear of the methods of Promotion. The ritual certainly had dangers; almost all Arcane practises did to some extent or another. Why should Promotion be any different? Still, danger and fear of harm paled deeply in the more rich colors of chance and beauty. To experience the Arcane at a deeper level was to touch the true meaning of life itself. No mere worry or concern for her own well being would keep Tiyribi from opening the doors to a new realm. "I see no reason why we shan't continue, Master." The last noun sounded strange without the tag of a surname or even a personal identification, but Tiyribi had been provided none of her teacher and didn't wish to misinterpret and cause unintentional insult. "If it is pleasing to you, I'd most like to continue and procede with the practise of Promotion."

Why had she chosen Sorcery? Now there was a question for the ages. The young Pale Elf gently traced the line of her pointed chin in thought, stirring her mind with the physical sensation of skin on skin. She had often pondered the same question in many of her more solitary minutes, much like she had in the short walk to the building to begin her lessons. Some would have said Mysticism was a more appropriate sphere for a person in her position; others would have said Elementalism or perhaps Druidism would have fit her character better. No, Tiyribi had known for certain after first experiencing the flow of the Essence of Force through her Vis that Sorcery was and always would be her domain, no questions asked. It would be the sphere to which she'd devote her study to and seek to embrace even deeper in her soul. "I have chosen to pursue Sorcery as it interests both my heart and my mind. I find it the truest sphere to the nature of Arcana and easily the most powerful, what with its manipulation of both time and space. Its methods are closest to what the usage of the Arcane energies truly ought to be about and teaches the student the gentle rituals of life. Such a thing is a noble study indeed." She could only pray such an answer would be acceptable to her teacher and not require yet more information from her.

[Peach]

'Strange' didn't even begin to describe the inner machinations of Kyetrih's mind. Patterns of life, intermingled with his twisted form of chaotic religion, had taken its toll on what had once been a sound personality. Many things that would seem excessive or, quite plainly put, odd to others, seemed perfectly normal to the Esh'laheir. Could one expect anything else of a mage? They spent so much of their time dealing with the surreal that their grasp upon physical things became cloudy, indeed... A Sorcerer completely immersed in his other-worldly environment of energy was bound to have a few more understandings, and misconceptions, surrounding the world than a common citizen would. Yet, such things were in consequential. Kyetrih had accepted his subtle form of madness long ago and had, in turn, learned how to control it. Perhaps it was this power over himself that had caught the attention of the Sun House... Or had that merely been desperation?

He and Tiyribi had more in common than either would think. They had both lead mainly mundane lives, rising above only once they had reached maturity. And maybe this was the way that things were meant to be. One couldn't tell if a child would be fit for rule much later on in their lives. Unlike a name, skill could not be inherited... Thus was the problem with Heirs, with Royalty, with the system that they had followed their entire lives. The advisors, and the rest of the royal council, were the remedy to that minor flaw. As long as there remained a figurehead as reigning Monarch, the minds of the operation could work in anonymity. The way that Kyetrih preferred it. For, in most situations, while completely himself, the young dark elf was not a sociable man... But he could put on unprecedented airs, lies that seemed real to even the most knowledgeable and worldly. In some ways, the Sorcerer was a better fabricator of truths than a Mystic. When one understood the underlying principle of things, the energy that every living being survived upon, this wasn't a difficult concept to grasp.

"Exactly." For a moment, the Esh'laheir allowed a smile to flicker across his stoic features. Her answer was simplistic, yet ingeniously so. "The pure Magic of Arcana." No other sphere could be quite as potent, as ultimately direct and supreme. There was no need, at all, to disguise the mana, to create forms of nature already in solid existence. As a Sorcerer, an individual could simply be one with their practice... The ebb and flow of what created their mystical selves. Did the Lady Andares truly comprehend this fact? Or had her answer been guesswork, one-dimensional without need for interpretation? It was not long before Kyetrih would find out. Yet, she intrigued him... Those that he taught before had tried to think of the most complex answer possible. It seemed that Tiyribi could see beyond such formalities, into the world that encompassed his being. For a few moments, he remained silent, unflinchingly surveying the woman's rare, violet eyes. These seconds, as all others did, passed quickly into the great whirlpool of time and space.

"Promotion raises one's understanding of the Arcanic world. A further Unbinding, one could say... Yet many state that it is less taxing upon the mind." It did, however, contain danger amidst its enlightenment. When Tiyribi had signed up for a class in Arcana, she had given herself to these potentialities, the probabilities that could oftentimes plague the most experienced of mages. If she could not handle the Promotion, this would clearly say that she did not belong in the holds of the Arcane... As the God of Chaos ordained it, Kyetrih would follow. Effortlessly, he slipped into the state of Clara, utilizing his own Vis to graze about in search for the noble's center. In the matter of moments, he found it, glowing in its utterly unstoppable way. Reaching into the student's mind with this, he made a few alterations. Kyetrih had loosened the hold of the real world, pushing her one more step along the path of arcanic insanity...

With that, the deceptively simple procedure was complete. Aside from a strange feeling of heightened awareness, nothing invaded the dark elf's mind. Not the psychedelic images that could often come with Unbinding, or intolerable pain of any sorts. But how could one put such a lowly price tag on the means of release? Promotion held more to itself than many originally thought. After waiting a minute or two for the newly-made Apprentice to ponder her status, the Sorcerer pushed onwards. "There were no faults, and I see no need to pause the lesson... Unless Miss Andares has an objection, of course. When you are ready, we shall move on to the first technique of the Apprentice, which is Circle of Magic." Without ceremony, he picked up a piece of charcoal from the desk with long, white fingers, leaving smudges of black upon the alabaster. "This technique can do either of two things. Preventing any energies from entering the confines of the circle, when drawn clockwise, and putting a halt to the escape of said things, when transcribed in the opposite direction."

Kneeling with a mildly halting motion, Kyetrih drew a circle around himself with the stick of ebon material. "As you draw, channel Mana into the shape, along with a strong overtone of its intent. This can be done with may other things besides charcoal, from carving in the earth, to merely imagining it. You may try, if you wish, my Lady." With that, he held out the drawing implement, availiable for the intended usage.

[Tiyribi Andares]

His eyes...Tiyribi returned the intense stare back into the pools of color as her teacher affirmed his approval of her answer, stating in five words what had taken her sentences to expression, albeit rather improperly at best. Despite this, the normal feelings of self-reproach and humiliation hadn't followed her own self doubts about the validity of her statements. Perhaps it was the firm way Kyetrih expressed his approval, or the way he very nearly smiled and broke the impassiveness of his pale Elven features. A small smile of her own crept onto Tiyribi's pale lips as she analyzed her teacher with mind and eyesight, the puzzle of his personage manifesting itself with each passing moment. What sort of Esh'lahier would take on the mantle of Mastering the sphere of Sorcery? Where had he come from? What sorts of company did he enjoy? Why was he in the city, and how was he associated with the House Linalintava? A thousand like questions sprung through Tiyribi's mind as she seemed to be drawn in more and more into Kyetrih's gaze, as if wanting to know precisely what passed behind his own vision.

The Master's answer about her question of the rite of Promotion quickly broke Tiyribi out of her brief reverie, shooting the young Esh'lahier back into the present. She half-smiled apologetically at Kyetrih for her behavior, all the while kicking herself mentally for allowing such a slip of her guard. No self-respecting female Elf would put any sort of feelings out in the open after but a few minutes' knowledge of each other. But what feelings? Certainly she respected Kyetrih for his skill with the art of Sorcery, but Tiyribi barely knew the man. She couldn't possibly allow her imagination to run wild with a thousand different possibilities and endings to the course of her lessons; it was just silly. When the suns set on the last brightening of her training, Tiyribi would leave a full-fledged Apprentice in the sphere of Sorcery and probably never return...and never see Kyetrih again. He was a high-level mage associated with the ruling House of all the Medonian Esh'lahier, not just merely the city of Ethgan'tor. Any true secular Pale Elf felt a reverence for the High Monarch, no matter the distance between them and the white spires of the city of stone. Who was Tiyribi but the illegitimate child of an upstart family currently trying to make their name in the outside world of the Empire due to the disgrace of their ancestors?

Sighing inwardly, the young Esh'lahier quickly returned to the work at hand, moving her mind away from unanswerable questions to the realm of the present. Tiyribi was here to learn Arcana and advance her studies in the sphere of Sorcery. She would do precisely that. Her concentration quickly turned from pondering the social hierarchy of her people to the methods of Promotion, waiting anxiously for the beginning moment of the rite. She trusted Kyetrih enough to lend a silent nod and a quiet visage when he quickly slipped into Clara and worked upon her mind, tearing apart and remolding whatever suited his fancy or fit with the necessities of the technique. While Tiyribi's Unbinding had been vividly strange, this new act of Promotion caused her little discomfort or false illusions. The meaning of the technique still escaped Tiyribi, but she was certain that, in time, Kyetrih would either explain or allow her to discover the change herself. It only hinged upon waiting for the appropriate time.

Lavender eyes flickered open and locked once more with Kyetrih's, listening carefully as her teacher explained the uses and methods to create the technique of Circle of Magic. So, this was to be her first test as a new Apprentice. Grasping the chalk carefully between her forefinger and thumb, Tiyribi sat as gracefully as one of the Elvish blood could, spreading her full skirts out wide in the motion. A single stray glance wandered from Tiyribi to Kyetrih before the bright orbs slid closed, covered underneath pale eyelids. By now the practise of slipping into her own state of Clara had become but a habit for the Pale Elf, despite the substantial minutes it stook took her to reach the desired state. Her mind would slowly empty of all its worries and preoccupations and thoughts of the present, disappearing into a cloud of murky darkness as it descended to the state of emptiness before reentering a state of new Clarity and keenness as a projection on the Astral Plane. The old Essences of Force would once more reunite with Tiyribi's will, allowing the Esh'lahier to Channel the focused energies through her own store of Vis to begin the reaction of Arcalysis. Shaping the mana with the technique of Evocation, Tiyribi would begin to physically sketch a circle around herself with the drawing instrument, pouring the Evocated mana into the circular shape as her mind impressed upon the energies a desire to enclose herself in it all, keeping everything in her immediate vicinity in.

[Peach]

The reasons for the Promotion to be such an anticlimax were few and far between. Then again, Kyetrih had his theories. In all probability, the majority of the experience rested in to completely novel unbinding... Up until that point, the mind had not felt any Arcanic influence working inside of their very heads. Such a prospect was mind-bending, at first, hence the shock that it caused many students. The Sorcerer, himself, thought the whole process to be rather unwieldy and embarrassing. It could only remind the student that they had not been born with sufficient understanding, needing the powers of another to unlock their true potential. Through this, all mages were in debt to another. Although he, among others, liked to think it, magic did not rest in talent and proficiency alone. That first mage had been given the Art through some sort of intervention... Whether divine or no. The mages of Telath were all connected, at least, in that sense of lowliness. Could this ever be paid of? Did it need to be?

Relieved that the first step in Apprenticeship was done with, Kyetrih stepped back and settled himself upon the desk. It wouldn't be wise to stay in close proximity to the slowly meditating woman. And, indeed, a barrier of magic springing to life under one's feet couldn't have been the most pleasant experience. Trying, and failing, not to be obvious about it, the Esh'laheir surveyed his student with interest. She certainly was graceful... A highly-valued accomplishment that the Master was yet to attain. Although skilled in matters of the other planes, Kyetrih was not yet fully learned in traversing the one of Material. He was simply too tall, much more so than what would be average for a man of his kind, with limbs that constantly seemed to be the slightest bit in the way. Yet, Tiyribi, dainty and petite, executed even the simplest actions with the proper aura of nobility. Enviously, he watched her motions, unable to believe her apparently total ease. How do they do it?

The minutes that it took the Lady to enter the Clara, although slow, were not voluminous. In actuality, the dark elven woman could feel that it was much easier to obtain the state than it previously had been... Did this have something to do with the Promotion? Perhaps then, she could even have dealt with minor sounds and the like while achieving a meditative way of mind. Once Tiyribi had entered, things seemed to play out naturally, without fault. As the circle was drawn about her thin form, a subsequent sphere of energy sprang to life, traveling in waves from her chalk to the air. There, it hung, scintillating as her mind saw fit. The barrier resisted the forces of her teacher, which included pushed from his hands and a few low-level spells. "Excellent, my Lady. You may bring it back now, if you see fit. Remember that two circles can be drawn, if you wish to prevent both the entrance and the exit of force..."

Though he didn't make it clear, Kyetrih's respect for the young woman had risen. Many failed at their first attempts, whether as Initiates, Apprentices, or Masters. Tiyribi had managed to forgo this minor impediment, maximizing her ability to move onward... Efficient things always fascinated the Advisor. Their ability to live life in an orderly way, avoiding entropy through all means possible, was utterly foreign to him. While some may have thought of such people as mundane, he believed them to be exotic, a rare breed... Overachieving, perhaps, yet interesting none the less. "Next, with your permission, we will be learning the technique of Activation." Kyetrih prevented a sigh of annoyance from escaping. Formalities had become second-nature to him, yet they could still become rather tedious at times. "It involves extracting the energy from an enchanted item by the process of channeling your own Mana through its confines. Once extracted, it can be intermingled with the Ara to create a reaction, and thus utilized." From the desk, next to the few props that they would require for the lesson, he removed a simple silver ring.

"This item contains the Initiate spell, Sphere of Light. When you are ready, you may attempt to Activate it." The Sorcerer did nothing to avoid eye contact as he brought the ring to his student... Such close proximities allowed for him to study the twin rarities in further detail. The color reminded him, somewhat, of those that the Underworld elves possessed. A quality that some may have found strange, but Kyetrih did not see as unattractive in the least. It kept one guessing about her origins, how her unappreciated beauty effected her life. Smiling inwardly, the pale elf realized that he was becoming carried away upon a dream that extended into nothingness... It was best to back off and leave her to meddle over a magical trinket.

[Tiyribi Andares]

One technique down, how many more to go? The young female Esh'lahier felt the warm feeling of proud accomplishment seep over her senses as she watched the Arcane energies manifest into the Material Plane, creating a shield or barrier of sorts around the pattern she had originally drawn with the chalk. It wasn't perfect, by far, but it was successful. Time would ease over the imperfections. Tiyribi sighed, expressing a mixture of relief and the slightest tinge of exhaustion as she surveyed the glowing web of Ara as her mind began to feel the beginnings of the physical strain of using her talents in the Arcane. Despite being accustomed to the basic techniques of an Initiate, Tiyribi still knew her limits were far from extensive. Practising Arcana couldn't exactly be termed a physical exercise, but the toll of energy on her mind and spirit still weighed the Pale Elf down. Even now, though, Tiyribi could feel the affects of the act of Promotion Kyetrih had earlier performed. Perhaps it was an expansion of her Vis or the growing of her level of focus that made the weaving just slightly easier; it was hard to say exactly.

Finally the energies began to disappate as Tiyribi reached the end of her fragile skill level, disappearing into the environment as if they had never existed. The young Elf sighed quietly to herself as her lavender eyes turned again to her teacher, carefully gauging his rather positive response to her attempt, if one could label any reaction by an Elf as enthusiastic. Still, they both were Esh'lahier. At their creation Meephos had stirred within their hearts. Perhaps the strange urge to close the gap between herself and Kyetrih could be attributed to the simple revolution of Meephos's wheel, ever turning and oscillating the heart. No logic on all of Telath could possibly formulate a solid reason behind the foreign pull she felt toward her teacher. She certainly wasn't about to admit to herself it was a rather superficial form of attraction; that was just silly. She was a self-proclaimed Orodite, a member of a noble house of the Empire and a politically-aspiring woman. She couldn't possibly be falling prey to the petty emotions of a schoolgirl seeing her first attractive boy. No, she had lived over a hundred patterns of the orbits of Telath. She was much too old for such frivolity.

Activation; that was to be next. The techniques taught to the Apprentice certainly seemed to advance in difficulty almost exponentially, particularly to a barely-mature Elf who had little self-confidence in her own abilities. Idly chewing on her lower lip, Tiyribi's gaze returned to Kyetrih's own, sinking once more into her self-made pool of the quandary of her feelings. She wanted so desperately to understand both Kyetrih and herself at that single moment in time. Why was she being so odd about her teacher? The Gods only knew how many patterns of age Kyetrih had on Tiyribi's own small store. He was obviously ten times more skilled with Arcana than she was or probably could ever be. He was associated with the highest House in all the ranks of the Esh'lahier. Tiyribi felt like the ant glancing at the elephant, wondering if, perhaps, it might work that one would shrink or he might grow larger. Such an ambition simply demonstrated Tiyribi's continuing need to hold fast to the ways of a devotee of Orod. But even then, all thought seemed to wander to the inevitable whenever she caught Kyetrih's gaze, which seemed to happen quite a bit. Gods forbid her thoughts ever moved into physical motion. Ioannes, what was happening?

The offered silver ring brought Tiyribi's attention back to the present, bringing her faculties and store of memory out of the deluge of more dreamy thoughts. Activation would bring out the spell Sphere of Light from the physical weaves of the silver metal. A quick questioning glance left Tiyribi's pale features as she reached delicately for the ring, placing it as centered as possible in the open side of her palm. Breathing slowly, the Esh'lahier noblewoman began to mentally prepare herself to reenter Clara and search out the weave for the spell to properly Activate it, just as Kyetrih had requested. She hadn't failed the first time with Circle of Magic. Perhaps the Gods were being kindly this brightening to the confused little Elf closed away in some marble room with the source of all her mixed-up thoughts. Maybe, the further she sunk into her practise of Arcana, the lighter and weaker her annoying feelings would become. Maybe they were simply a reaction to her initial jitters of beginning her Apprentice class, or perhaps nervousness around a Master of such great acumen.

Soon her thoughts were wiped out as Tiyribi's subconscious sunk down into the Clarity of meditation, losing all conscious thought and emotion as she reentered and reconnected with the Astral Plane, the source of everything Arcane. There, Tiyribi became aware of the swirling Essences floating about her, composing every item surrounding her in various different mixtures. The Essence of Force gently pushed against her senses, reminding her of its presence with a strong sense of familiarity, but this time Tiyribi had entered Clara to seek out one particular pocket of Force. Glancing quickly at the ring in her hand, Tiyribi began to see the delicate weave of the spell Sphere of Light take shape before her vision, showing its formation and its various components so familiar to the once-Initiate. A few pieces of the weave seemed to be missing, however. Perhaps this was why Tiyribi's own skills were needed to Activate it. Quickly focusing and pulling the Essence of Force toward herself, Tiyribi began to rebuild the delicate weave of Ara into the shape to create Sphere of Light, starting the reaction of Arcalysis and sending a small elliptical shape into the Material Plane from the ring.

As her immersion in Clara began to wane, Tiryibi returned to the Material Plane, blinking and glancing quickly at her teacher for a sign of approval. "I hope this pleases you," she said softly, mentally levitating the glowing sphere just above her fingertips. She wouldn't want to disappoint Kyetrih, regardless of whether he was teacher or something slightly more significant.

[Peach]

And would it have been so terrible? To actually do something about his inexplicable feelings for the Lady that he barely knew. It would, in fact, ruin the lesson for the brightening... Such paltry physical things always seemed to do that. What had happened in society to make attraction such an awkward thing, a game played by two unwilling sides? In days long past, it probably was as easy as breathing or thinking to express the way one felt, without the complex additions of etiquette and intrigue. Kyetrih pondered this as Tiyribi's barrier retreated back into her Vis, her own complex view of the Plane. Could that have been a reason for hesitation? They all saw things differently, like the analogy that Arcana could constantly provide. As different cultures perceived things in their own ways, the laws guiding a polite being could be changed. Without knowledge of another’s regulations, the sort that often came with actually knowing the person, it was difficult to see eye to eye. Which led to the inability to allow for a acknowledgement to become anything more than an acquaintance...

What was this foolishness? There were plenty of things about the woman that should have stopped such likely feelings of attraction. Most predominantly, her nobility. Kyetrih made a point of not having any personal relations with such people. They thought themselves to be above all else, born with the right to control those better than themselves. Such thoughts brought back memories of a childhood spent becoming used to the ways of Ethgan'tor... Always feeling slightly subordinate to those riding in carriages pulled by majestic white horses. Unconsciously, he clenched his fists in defiance before letting them relax once more. They were fools for depending so much upon their birth right. Now, he was more powerful than all of them, perhaps more so than the King, himself. Inwardly, he gloated about his accomplishments. And yet... They could leave him feeling empty, at times. As if his goal in life had been completed, and there was nothing left.

When would his beloved Chaos reign again? Having no goal to chase, being set in a position, Kyetrih felt more trapped than one in a cage. Looking at Tiyribi, he could sense the bestial motives of those fighting for their wishes with tooth and claw. Her strange eyes, her forbidden position of barely-recognized nobility... It made him feel more serene, knowing that his thoughts were fulfilling the most minor aspects of his patron deities. But how could something so chaste awaken such masochism? A desire to destroy barriers once again, to bend ideals and put the advisor in his element. For what good was one of his kind if there were no rough times to lead the Monarchy through? Without any violence being exacted, any revenge being played out, he was as obsolete as a Master who had lost all of their abilities in the Aetherfracture. But did this mean that he had to create such situations, himself? Kyetrih had no right to be the mortal equivalent of M'taerowl, creating and destroying at whim.

And nor did he have a right to deny fate. Tumultuous mind whirling in dissonance, the Sorcerer finally settled back to observe his student's work. A feeling of rightness clicked inside of Tiyribi's mind as she filled in the skeleton of the spell, allowing for it to dart from the Astral realm into the Physical. In an explosion of light and energy, it emerged, fulfilling the purpose of its miniscule existence. Was Kyetrih's life destined to be like that of the glowing sphere? A hardly noticeable point in time, fading away into nothingness in the matter of patterns. It was fitting that Tiyribi, who was gradually becoming the avatar of his desires, could so easily manipulate the little spell. "It pleases me greatly, my Lady." For a lingering moment, his eyes strayed to hers, one of the many dual-sided glances that had been shared. They would need to stop doing that, eventually, or the looks could escalate into something more... Potent.

"The third, and final Apprentice technique that one would desire to learn is named Mana Reshaping. It involves reworking the Mana of a spell already in existence, to better fit the circumstances. Not quite making one's own spell, but putting their signature upon the existing magic. Try it on any spell in your repertoire, if you would."

[Tiyribi Andares]

Inadequacy had formed a barrier between two souls that seemingly had been bound together, ever wanting to break through but held back by their own self-doubts and ideas of propriety. The curse of the Elves, some said, was their tendency to think, ponder, and plan...and then never do. Perhaps it was their lengthened lifespan that made the creatures slow at making active decisions; perhaps it was merely a culture based around the fear of committing a great blunder of proper attitude. Still, Tiyribi couldn't deny the gentle urgings within her heart to have and be held by a man who, but a candlemark ago, had been a complete stranger. It could have been the idle longings of a schoolgirl for her fantasized teacher, or perhaps a perception built up from Tiyribi's own sour experience with the menfolk predominating her earlier life, but the young Esh'lahier couldn't deny an inexplicable attraction to the rather dour and serious Master Sorcerer. He certainly wasn't as frivolous as the Archprelatess or as powerful as, perhaps, an Archmage, but there was something levels more interesting within his soul that had attracted Tiyribi's eye, begging her to open it and learn more.

Despite expending a great deal of focus in holding on to the spell of Sphere of Light, Tiyribi couldn't shake away the thoughts that seemed ever more persistent in their nagging with each attempt to wipe them away. Biting her lip in the half-hope that physical pain would wash away the rather annoying thoughts and feelings floating about her head, Tiyribi's attention slowly began to wane as her connection with the state of Clara disappeared, causing the glowing sphere to decrease to an almost inestimable size before exploding completely in a flash of brilliant light. Sighing, Tiyribi's pale fingers clasped over the silver ring still held in her palm, turning her hand over in a motion of her desire to return the artifact to her teacher. Her amethyst eyes grabbed quickly onto Kyetrih's own gaze tenaciously, like a half-starved man tantalized by the sight of a feast. It wasn't right, it wasn't proper, and it certainly wasn't logical, but there wasn't many options left to the young Esh'lahier Elf to deny the growing want and desire within her heart. For over forty patterns she had dealt with the tussles of life alone. Now she couldn't wait to share the burden with a man she had just met. What insanity was this?

Extending her hand away from her lithe torso, the Pale Elf nodded her head at her closed fist, ever grasping at Kyetrih's gaze. "I don't wish to take your possession," she informed softly, voice barely above a whisper in its strange mixture of hesitation and longing. It was foolish! How could she be even entertaining such thoughts about a man most likely her better in any realm she had ever practised? How could she even consider that he'd be remotely interested in her as anything more than a student assigned to his tutelage by the House Linalintava? Dropping her hand back to her lap, the young Elf's gaze reluctantly turned from Kyetrih's, locking docilely on the floor toward the side of Tiyribi's position. No, she couldn't keep playing with her own emotions. She would conquer them; she would triumph over the stupidity of her immaturity. If it took every portion of strength of will the Esh'lahier had been gifted with, by Orod, she would rid herself of her most embarrassing desires and focus simply on her Arcane lessons. That was why she was here; that, and that alone.

The final Apprentice technique to learn laid before her. Now was not the time to distract herself with silly thoughts more appropriate for a two-patterned child. If she was to succeed as a Sorceress, she'd need to prove herself through the flurry of classes and training sessions certain to follow from Unbinding to final Promotion to the top of her craft. She couldn't allow herself to slip from the path of her so-longed-for goal, no matter how alluring his eyes were or captivating his gaze seemed to be.

Inhaling deeply, Tiyribi once more prepared herself for another entrance into the state of Clara, allowing her long, pale hands to rest gently on the tops of her knees. Her eyes gently slid closed, although the rather attractive picture of Kyetrih's passive face still remained emblazoned in her mind, no matter how hard Tiyribi attempted to rid herself of it. Exhaling once more, the young Lady Andares felt her conscious begin to empty of thought, sinking back into the now-familiar darkness of a clear mind. Soon the sights of the Astral Plane broke upon Tiyribi's senses, drawing her further in to the tender grasp of the Arcane energies. Focusing her will upon the energies of the Essence of Force, Tiyribi began pulling the Ara into herself, mixing with her own Vis as the reaction of Arcalysis began to stir between the Material and Astral Planes. The weave was one with which Tiyribi was relatively familiar; the energies began to shape themselves according to her wishes to create a Force Bolt, albeit a rather weak one due to her inexperience and current level. Reshaping the mana forced the energies to shape themselves anew, molding a star-shaped Force Bolt in the Material Plane to follow with Tiyribi's conscious wishes.

Her amethyst eyes flickered open once more as they searched out the visage so stuck within her senses. Finding Kyetrih, Tiyribi quickly dropped her gaze in bright embarrassment, a pinkish tint forming on her once-colorless cheeks. A shy smile danced through her lips as her eyes fell on what little energy remained of her suspended Force Bolt, already deteriorating due to her lack of complete focus. Gods, it was hard to concentrate on Arcana when one so interesting stood so close in the same room. No, it wasn't love, and it certainly wasn't quite romance, yet, but there was something still strong enough to bond Tiyribi to Kyetrih despite their differences in backgrounds and the shortness of their time together. Divine meddling? Perhaps. The ideological daydreamings of a child much too young and inexperienced for her own good? More than probable. With a last puff, the Force Bolt completely dissolved into the air, carrying with it Tiyribi's idle imaginings. "I am sorry; it wasn't impressive a'tall, but it was the only spell I could think of," the young woman apologized, still studying the empty air as if the Bolt still remained. "Generally my Force Bolts are quite oddly-shaped. I thought it interesting to attempt to make on different, more controlled. I pray this is acceptable?" Once more the lavender eyes instinctively upturned to the teacher, sending Tiyribi deeper into her myriad of emotions.

[Peach]

It was a trait that Humans, unquestioningly, held over the elves. They were often insulted for their short life spans... Compared to any manner of four-legged creature in terms of its length. But it gave them something that the Esh'laheir, nor the light-born, could ever have: A sense of urgency. A need to live life to the fullest, to adapt, to learn and grow as if tomorrow was non-existent. When one lived for a thousand patterns, they lost that vital things... And began to live as if they were next to immortal. Taking all the time in the world to complete what could have been the most punctual of tasks, riding the current instead of breaking the flow. Was this why the humans had become so successful in such a short time? Rising above their long-lived counterparts in what seemed like a heartbeat... Due to their lethargic, yet wise system, the age of the elves was over. They were forced to mingle, to make half-breeds, to defile their pure blood line. Was this the will of the gods? Were they truly the ones with an evolutionary disadvantage?

Ethgan'tor, one of the only cities left that could claim such, was a suspended sphere in time. Paused after the escape from the war, and allowed to grow and fester with old beliefs and malcontents. This was why the city was an escape... A pilgrimage to wash away the sins of the Empire, the great new species that consumed all into its singular culture. Kyetrih had seen this deteriorating, their race and their homeland gradually becoming forgotten in the mists of time. Although he was young yet, there were things that the Sorcerer had seen... Deliberate defiance’s of his people, that could never be forgotten. What were they becoming? Yet another group taken in and stripped of its essence? The Esh'laheir in the cities were practically bending over to aid those unworthy, those who should have been thanking their ancestors for the salvation that they so ungratefully received. It was disgusting, what they did. Shameful, in every sense of the word. Tiyribi, an Andares, family forgotten and forsaken. Was she to become like the rest?

If she succeeded in her quest, would she abuse her power? Teach the citizens of some dishonest city to count her brothers and sisters as one of their own... The Sorcerer did not wish for their acceptance. Their foolish, influenced grasp of what they thought was right. He would rather the dark elves stand apart than lower themselves to that level of humility. Without any sort of haste, he took the ring from the young woman and placed it back on the desk. His possession... Would this worthless trinkets be what he was forced to own for his whole life? Would he never gain anything more, anything of true emotional sustenance? Kyetrih did not even have recognition for all that he had done. But this was to be accepted. When the people of the city knew who he was, it was then that he had failed in his pursuit... To be the most useful nobody known to Telath. A celebrity under cover, fame seen only in the eyes of his employers.

Romantic... Yet lacking. It was something that the strangely sumptuous Lady in front of him would never understand. He was foolish for considering. And what? There was nothing to ponder. The pale elf would repeat that to himself until it was true. An inexplicable feeling of depression settled heavily upon Kyetrih's shoulders as the light of Tiyribi's spell began to dance in his chemical eyes. It formed, it twisted, becoming whatever its creator desired, whether practical or not. Sometimes it seemed that the Mana had no choice... But then how did it control him so? How did it haunt his thoughts and make his sleep restless? Her idea wasn't very original, in fact, there was another initiate spell to make something just like it. The pale elven female seemed to grasp the concept, however. "It is similar to the Star of Force, my Lady, but the idea is correct. Practice it with other spells, if you would. We will meet here, at sunset, in two brightenings. Serale, Miss Andares."

Outside, the clouds finally opened over the dry-leaved conifers housing a city of stone. Rain fell in thick ribbons of water, pattering on roofs and splashing sidewalks. The bruised sky became dreary, congested with the precipitated air. For Tiyribi, it would be a long walk home...

[Tiyribi Andares]

Techniques had been completed, but Tiyribi's Apprentice lessons were far from over. Dropping her one hand back into her lap, the Esh'lahier expanded her fingers upon the ground on either side, gently raising her torso from its sitting position in one quick motion. Amethyst eyes glanced quick at Kyetrih as her hands worked to straighten what they could of her skirts. The brightening was at an end; it was time to allo