~Shabetto! Sha-Lalala~ (Peach Please!)

[Ibyn Delora]

Spring Era XI, many minutes after arrival

To become a songstress was Ibby's life long dream, that was if her life only consisted of a few month's time. Dreams and thoughts came and went, faster than a blink of an eye, faster than the life span of a fly, but no matter, it was Ibby's life and she lived as she pleased. Her parents couldn't stop her, or would they ever try, being such free spirits of the wild. Heck, they allowed her to fly and run around naked since birth! Of course, their culture in the mountains found nudity to be nothing on the level of taboo like the other superficially moral cultures of the Empire. Still, no matter! Nothing mattered!

Twirling, dancing, jumping, prancing, Ibyn Delora was one unstoppable bullet made of flesh, bone, essence, and blood. Like a rabid snowflake of white with sparks of blue for eyes she was, drifting through the city of Ethgan'tor freely with naught in her jumpy mind. She did want to crush all necromancers though, especially ugly necromancers. Born so beautiful, she had no tolerance for those hard on the eyes. So she was vain and superficial!

Istimamen' Selu! What's this? An acadamy of magic? Sorcery and song! Just her luck... but... 400 crowns? She only had five hundred crowns! The outrage! How could they try to stop her on her path to becoming the greatest Necromancer Slayer in all the lands? How could she succeed without arcana at her disposal?

Enraged, the little one began to fly around the clerk of the acadamy, endlessly, neglecting to state her frustrations. Finally, when she stopped to do a little dance and sing her infamous songs, the clerk did not collapse from trying to allow his eyes to follow her movements. One should clip her wings, really!

I really think you stink.
You buffoon, elven fool!
I'll make your brain go clink!
And challenge you to a duel!!!
Give me lessons in song for free!
Or I'll sting ya like a bee!
AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaagggggggah!
Waaaaah!

So she ended a song with some wailing. So what? Really, so what? She wished she had some ice powers now, something like icicles at her disposal. Unbeknownst to little Ibyn, her true path would perhaps lie in Elementalism. An elemental bard of ice? Yaaa! Carmelya be proud of your daughter! Though Ibby really was some heathen... More later!

[Peach]

The fey creatures of Kelrondar were welcome within the city, but that didn’t mean that their company was appreciated. Those white glaciers that were the Esh’lahier, so reminiscent of her homeland in the icy mountains, would only roll eyes of silver or gold as she darted past their gracefully-moving forms. Ibyn was lucky that she had been born so beautiful, or she hardly would have been tolerated in the holy city; the pale elves were ancient and wise, but living amongst perfection had turned them almost shallow when it came to aesthetics. It was difficult for a marred Esh’lahier to succeed in their homeland, and even more so for a Faerie of no great pulchritude.

Ibyn, however, gained appreciated gazes along with those of annoyance, artistic minds working to decide whether they would make a marble sculptures after the contours of her snowy-white body or a painting of her glistening wings. Even those dwelling in the realms of weaponry could look at the pixie and draw an idea for a new dagger from those translucent dragonfly appendages, sighing at the thought of a blade made from crystalline glass. And so, the mythic creatures passed by on the line between rejection and fascination, causing some to smile and other’s fingers to itch with the desire to pull that buzzing beauty from the air. Inside of the academy, it was no different. The busy clerk pulled her steel-framed glasses away from ors of metal hue, swatting at the pixie who buzzed about her powder white-haired head like an obnoxious fly. Fae were so annoying… Why were they let into the city chosen by Ioannes, just because their homeland was so close?

“No!” Ra’shell hissed, the Esh’lahien version of shouting. When one had such sensitive ears, raising their voice to an octave with any amount of raucous ringing was naught but suicide for sanity. “The Academy does not offer free lessons, especially to the likes of you!” Nimble fingers shot forth, finally closing upon those glistening wings that allowed for Ibyn to dart so easily to and fro. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Ra’shell held the intruder away at arms length, fixing her with a glaring eye. At least the poor ice pixie’s sensitive wings were strong, or they would have been crushed under even that light touch. The young Esh’lahier’s eyes darted up, over Ibyn’s miniscule shoulder and towards the grand doors to the academy of Arcana. If the Fae turned her head, she would see clearly the new arrival, a pale elf of teenage years with bored gray eyes and shoulder-length silver hair that was pulled into a tail behind his head.

Casually, he crossed thin arms over an equally slender chest and sauntered over towards the desk, haughtily waving his hand at the annoyed clerk. Grumbling, and disappointed that she had been caught in her inhumane act, Ra’shell let go of the petite creature’s wings. Nodding, the boy began to speak in his airy, drawling voice. “As an apprentice teacher, I am able to pick any student that I wish to teach. This… lady is my choice.” The dark elven girl leaned back in her chair and looked to the side, hiding the narrowed glare of her eyes. “But you’re an Elementalist. She wishes to learn Song. It seems that we are in a predicament, no?” Expression twitching from humor to seriousness, the young mage looked towards Ibyn, pale brows raising against milky forehead.

“Well, girl? What do you have to say for yourself?” Truth be told, Starkad (for that was his name, a common one in Ethgan’torian society), was not the best apprentice… He simply did not have the responsibility. With this pixie, he would be able to prove himself, making mistakes away from the critical eyes of his peers.

[Ibyn Delora]

Like a salmon, but cuter and smarter and less smelly, Ibyn thrashed unhappily in Ra’shell's hands. These larger humanoids always underestimated her due to her miniscule size. Elves, ha. The pale Esh'lahier were also envious of her eerie beauty, her large mesmerizing eyes, soft skin, and fashionably cut white hair. How dare the woman yell back at her and imprison her in her talon!?

"Ouch! Ouch! Let go of me!!! Or I'll sing again! Eeeh!! Let go of meeeeee!" Her threat was real. Mixed in with her screams of protest was the beginning of a sweet song.

Little Ibby turned her head to face the origins of a new voice. Before she greeted her new Master-- it didn't matter that he taught Elementalism, heck Ibby already had forgotten she was here to learn Song-- she stared blue daggers at Ra’shell.

"You're lucky my parents did give birth to a Pixie with a stinger attached to her bum! Else I'll sting you like my bee friends! Let go now! I must attend lessons with handsome over thereeeeeee! That's what I had to say, Master!

Ice Pixie Elementalist. Ah. Given her freedom, Ibyn darted with the speed of a tipsy arrow toward Starkad and took the liberty to rest in a sitting position upon his shoulder. No, she wasn't exhausted, hardly and not one bit!

"Want to hear a song?" She only wanted to be close to his beautifully pointed ear. Heh heh heh...

[Peach]

Ra’shell sighed as Ibyn offered her solution to the problem, resting her chin in her hand and looking towards the ceiling. It was almost as if she were praying for sanity to be blessed upon the face of Telath increasing in entropy, but who would seriously want to rid themselves of a being as lovely as the ice pixie? Truthfully, the miserable little clerk was a more than a little bit jealous of the small, free-spirited being. Here she was, stuck filling out papers at a desk so that her less-than-rich family could pay for an expensive education, while Ibyn fluttered about as if she didn’t have a single care in the world. Oh well. Life was unfair like that and, as an Esh’lahier, Ra’shell had learned to live with disappointment. Waving a hand in dismissal, she nodded respectively towards the apprentice trainer, as if that would nullify her previous actions and give her back the mask that she was made to wear.

Once again, the quill began to scratch swiftly on parchment, though the clerk left her glasses at the side of the desk in distraction… She would pay for this later, most likely, with a throbbing headache. Not protesting a whit, Starkad allowed for his newest student to perch upon his thin shoulder, hardly noticing the almost non-existent weight. “Handsome, eh?” He chuckled as they walked out of the grand foyer, into the hallways that made up the spider web of the academy. A girl who didn’t know how powerless he was in society, and how average his appearance! Ibyn was truly a pupil sent from Aetheria itself, then. None aside from a light born would be able to see anything special in his smoky gray eyes, or the soot-tinted silver of his long hair. Not that it mattered in the scholarly world; he could gradually disappear into his studies, hiding away from the rest of civilization, and no one would be the wiser for it. No one aside from his father, that was.

Starkad cringed thinking about how depressed the blacksmith would be when he found out that his son couldn’t carry on with the trade. He chased that expression away with a smile, however, as Ibyn offered her singing services. “Ah, sure, but keep it down a notch. You’re a little close to my ear.” After listening to whatever musical torture or treasure the young pixie produced, the mageling clapped appreciatively and opened the door to a small, cluttered classroom that doubled as his living quarters. If he had known that a stent would ever be assigned to him, Starkad likely would have cleaned up some of the clothing and paper that lay in an ankle-deep carpet across most of the floor, and opened the windows to get rid of the musty smell. Too late now.

“Well, you know about Unbinding right? Its when your mind gets opened, and allows for you to see the Ara, Vis and Essence that make up the world. That’ll be your first step as a mage… Do you think that you’re ready?” If anything, the boy would be just as nervous as his student: he’d never actually unbound someone before. “Oh, by the way, my name’s Starkad. What’s yours?”

[Ibyn Delora]

Ibby had already forgotten how her new Master looked like, even when his face was right beside her. Her icy blue eyes could easily drink in the sight of his sharp profile, but too many things just flashed in her head... she could not keep still. Even now, whilst she tried to enjoy her ride atop his shoulder, her diaphanous wings itched to flap... She wanted to zoom around the room and just dance in the air and fill the place with the mellifluous melodies of her arsenal of songs.

Instead, she commanded herself she stay still and remember the question Starkad posed.

"My name is Ibyn Delora, though many just call me Ibby, or Ibby Wibby, or Ibby Wibby Tibby Dibby Fibby Cibby Libby! And no no no, Ibby doesn't know what unbinding is!

She really should. Others of her race, at least the rest of the fae, were quite proficient in spellcasting. Someone had taught her about arcana before, but at the very moment, a bee had passed by and Ibby wanted to play Stealth with it...

T'was the first time a bee stung her in the bum and died... Never again would she chase them... Once she learned sorcery, she'd just turn them into bee-cicles!

"First step, eh? Ok. Ready, I am ready! Unbind me!!"

Ibby floated away from the young man's shoulder to see him face to face. She was oh so small, so weak... and yet so full of energy. Not one moment could she keep still. Perhaps the unbinding would diminish the immense bounds of energy she possessed?

[Obsidian]

By the time that Ibyn had announced all her nicknames which all rhymed with each other; Starkad was confused as to which to call her with, but that Ibby one seemed to occur a couple of times, he thought it’d probably be safe to stick with that. Faeries were such a curious race, they were treated as second class citizens in the holy city, but that was an honour into itself, considering that no other race had ever even been allowed to come close to the city, but the Fae-folk were appreciated by some. They too had also felt the harsh reality of isolation, extermination and attempted genocide. Only problem is that with the fae, it wasn’t only politics and empty words. Julos the mad had devastated the empire, but that didn’t matter to the Esh’lahier, either way, they were safe, as long as no one else knew.

Ibby was lead outside, into a nice clearing in the forest of light, the large pine trees were all dripping with the accumulated humidity, behind the two, the city was quiet, as it was early in the morning, a painter could be seen with a half finished portrait of one of the pine trees, which could scarcely be seen in its entirely, it was spring, the humidity was rising and the cold left the province, letting the suns of the world shine through in their entirety. Ibyn probably didn’t know where they were going, last they had been in a room ready to be unbound.

Well, ibby, we’re out here, outside of that material construct, we’re closer to the elements here, now, onto your unbinding. Unbinding, like I said before is a technique that mages use to allow for others to be aware to the arcanic patterns within our material plane, you see, everything is made up of vis and everything that isn’t made up of vis, is ara. When you become unbound you can see it in their entirety and it’s a process every mage goes through before they can cast magic, hold on tight.”

They were at the edge of the forest of light where Starkad stepped back a little bit, leaving Ibyn in front of him, she could see the forest of light and the thick grass below here, but that’s all she would see, for the moment.

Starkad closed his eyes, Ibyn could see here some energy seeming to crackle, it was curious and she could see his focus divert, as Starkad opened his eyes, Ibyn felt an immensely intensive rush pulsate throughout her diminutive body then, she saw darkness.

OOC: Now for you unbinding dream, this is just dream which places heavy emphasis on distorted memories, but it can be whatever you like, as long as it’s a dream.