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The look on Demitrius' face was that of someone who'd just bitten into something bitter... or, perhaps more accurately, a noble's disdain at finding excrement on his fresh slippers. The tables around theirs broke out into whispers and barely-stalled gasps; not a soul amongst them would dare talk to Conductor Meris in so casual a manner. Raina, perhaps, Father Earth, definitely, but mouthing off to Demitrius was like signing your own death warrant.

"Ah... yes. As I was telling Daniel here, I am Demetrius Meris, Conductor of Water here at River's End Academy. It was I and Conductor Trelave who auditioned young Daniel, you see. I wanted to welcome you both myself; you're setting a new standard, you see, for never before have we had a student so young. Young enough, it would seem, to warrant his own guardian. Welcome, young Daniel and... forgive, I don't know your name yet, young lady."

Demetrius mustered the nicest of smiles, a testament of his inner focus and composure; she didn't know who he was and thus had no idea how to speak to him. Let's see how well you do, little girl, now that you've come to realize the man before you is the only reason you're in this fine establishment and not out in the Trisani Inn.

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Inaere paused after hearing the man speak. She looked at him intently, up and down, then at the sleeves of his shirt. Then, she looked at him again.

"...Huh. I would never've though' you were a Condemner or whatever y'said y'were," she said after a moment. "Though' you migh' be some sort'a, y'know, secretary or somethin', but, no matter."

In truth, Inaere wasn't trying to be rude, as rude as she was. She thought she was being perfectly affable in the present conversation, as it was how she talked to almost everyone. And she wasn't insulting him, no, not at all. At least, not in her mind. In someone else's mind, she may very well have been trying to start a fight.

Then again, she wasn't born with a silver tongue. At all.

"Well, it's bloody good tha' Danny's settin' a standard," she said, leaning back and twisting her neck about. "He's a damned good harpist, he is. Oh, and m'name's Inaere Highrealm; y'might've heard'a me, though tha's about as likely as findin' piss in a haversack, that is." Suddenly, Inaere snapped her fingers, letting out a short 'Ah!' and thrusting out her hand.

"Almost forgo'. You're a gentleman sorts, I'm presumin', so, handshake? Good t'meet'cha, Conducker. I 'ave questions for ya when you're done with your share of the yabber."

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FACT:

How quaint, he thought to himself, gingerly taking the young woan's hand and already mentally picking out the soap from his collection he'd use to wash that stench off. By accepting this young prodigy into the school, we've allowed a mentally deficient vagrant into our hallowed halls. Ever the tactician, however, Demitrius was sure not to let any of this show. A hushed whisper circled the table behind her, however, as the Conductor sharply righted the glasses on his nose, forcing them up with a forceful jut of his fingers. Any student who'd crossed him before knew that was as good as a bull's snort or a snake's rattle. Inaere might not know it, but she was on thin ice.

"Lovely. As for my yabber, other than welcoming you here, I wanted you to know about your unique living situation. As Daniel here is in need of your guardianhood, Ms. Highrealm, you two will be sharing a room. We can't rightly have you in the boys dormitory, and I believe young Daniel here isn't quite at the age yet to risk mischief around the girls, so you two will be sharing a room in the Girl's Dormitory. Know that this is a privilege; all other Juniors share rooms four to a piece, so I trust you will return the favor by being respectful of the premises and the rules that it implies."

Breathe in, Demitri, and try not to choke on the smell of sour liquor this young waif reeked of. A few more minutes and you'll be gone from here. "Now then, young lady... you had some questions for me?"

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How easily Raina lost herself in Caltrin.

The Life Conductor could hear everything the Maestro said to her as if he were screaming it aloud. How adorable Caltrin was as he slid comfortably into conversation with her! It was a blessing for the woman to have gained so much magnanimous trust after all these years. For she knew that it was only with her that he was so animated, so alive with words and expression. She imagined it to be mercilessly difficult to constantly be incapable of outright speaking, thoughts forever trapped inside. So, in this case, it was a true honor and gift to be the closest person with whom he put forth the effort to fully express himself.

Light flared in the Maestro’s eyes as he concentrated upon his fingers, countless idioms pouring from the soft changes in Caltrin’s expressions alone. Even before his forefingers intertwined into the one sign that made her heart swell to the point of bursting beneath her breasts, she felt her mind floating away into a sea of muddled delight, not ignorant to the boyish sweep of Caltrin’s eyes across her grown bodice. What a joy it was to have the object of your dreams looking at you in such a way. These quiet moments alone fed her utter bliss – Caltrin and Raina. Never just Caltrin. Never just Raina.

A boisterous cackle broke through her lips, all bubbles and joy at the recognition of Caltrin’s blatant sarcasm. Girlish giggles at his noise-making had her youthful face alight. Flawless, round features had already begun to glow in the golden light of the setting sun, transformed now into the one of the most angelic sights imaginable as a shaft of dying sunlight cascaded over her laughing form. No one had to tell her that her laughter was contagious. It warmed a room instantly, even when stuck in the darkest of glooms. Not only did it bring joy to the people around her, but it brought Raina a little piece of happiness to see the brightening of someone else’s day. Cal was no exception. As a matter of fact, as she began to respond to his story she felt her heart swell fit to explode when she saw his returned look of complete contentment.

“Oh, Cal! I had no idea you were having so much fun! Seeing as it was sooo incredible I’ll have to bring up the idea of more paperwork with Nairne…She’d just love to show you some of her fervent disciplinary ideas!” Raina herself spoke through the entire retort with a sugary sweet enthusiasm, although in the next moment her face betrayed her – a suppressed laugh escaping in a whoop of air, one slender hand raking itself through her ebony locks of satin hair. Silence fell over the couple like a warm blanket, her smile lingering on even after there were no words to convene.

It was washed away by the disappointment that came seconds afterward. Caltrin’s frustrated fingers worked through the air at a rigorous pace to sign out his thoughts, although weary simultaneously, expressing his barefaced disbelief of how low their own King thought of them. His dismissive wave of the hand only reinforced his opinion – mirroring her own.

“His Standards!” Raina guffawed, her voice thick with venomous sarcasm. Her usually calm, gentle expression tightened. With an angry toss of her head the Conductor of Life displayed her own obvious distaste. As if they weren’t already trying hard enough to keep the nobles from using their school as an operation to feed the kingdom super soldiers!

That flaring anger flowed out of her moments later in the form of one solitary disgusted sigh. If anything, the pros outweighed the cons. More students, and more ways to prove themselves. In fact, she replaced her fury with a mischievous grin. Those cerulean depths hinted at a newly surmised plot behind a stormy veil of thoughts. Years of hard work – just the years it took Caltrin to pull his disheveled group of Conductors together alone was commendable. Not to mention the years of hard pressed teaching that went into making this school what it was. Magic didn’t just come with a snap of the fingers – with the world at your fingertips. Unless, that is, you knew what the hell you were doing.

The steward had something coming to him when he stuck his fat nose where it didn’t belong.

Rattled as she was by the disrespect shown to their vocation, however, Raina too felt her lofty expression alleviate as their eyes met. The warm feeling of his company returned to her from that meager gesture of communication, obliterating every negative thought she could have possibly conjured. His silent stare showed her worlds of beauty, knowing full well what thoughts might be brewing up in that brilliant dome of his. Waves of heat poured into her cheeks from the unbreakable eye contact, and it took everything she had not to downturn her eyes in embarrassment as Caltrin looked gravely into her. It couldn’t possibly be a more obvious infatuation – despite so many oblivious years of nothing but blind friendship.

After so long a time, how could she have not noticed the handsome flick of his eyes as he watched her, the silvery smoothness of his cerulean locks complimenting that rectangular jaw…

The Life Conductor was smiling as the man seemed to stumble over his words – or, more correctly, his signs. Soft brows rose questioningly, inquiring as to the thoughts with which he had so much difficultly portraying. Raina, it seemed, was a master at hiding her fan-girlish wiles, devoid for the lovely rosy hue in her cheeks. Except, that is, until Caltrin finally started to get his words out. All she could muster as her violet expression flared to the point of an unnatural color was an indistinct nod as he reminded her of that likely comparison, making it twice as complicated to conceal her mortification when he likened her to a candle – his candle. All the while her body found itself trembling with emotion – yearning, passion, to name a few out of the thousands.

“Caltrin, I…-“ Raina began, discomfited by the praise Caltrin was pouring onto her. He couldn’t possibly be serious – with all of his power and skill. He needn’t rely on anyone! Yet she found herself leaning forward, hoping perhaps that this small movement would make the words she needed to come faster, and the actions more so. The distance between them was slowly lessening, their looming secret lying so obviously out in the open, yet as unmoving as if it were contained in an iron box. That box was practically screaming at the precipice of its opening – only to be slammed shut, if even on top of their fingers. A bitter sting remained upon Raina’s pride as she shared a look of confirmation with the muted Maestro.

Mallik.

While Raina could have easily been completely disheveled and enraged by the whole debacle, she chose a different route, and disappointedly shook her head with an added sigh of exasperation. There were weeks ahead of them, and plenty of time to spend together. Although bogged down with work, the two of them never failed at finding the slightest window when it came to seeing one another. Unfortunately, it always seemed that whenever they did get time together, something always had to happen. How many of these moments had they had? Close – intimate. Nearly there – nearly kissing! And yet. Again, Raina was forced to wait. Again, whatever Caltrin had wanted to say would have to wait – another grueling wait for the Life Conductor – when what he wanted to say could have been anything from “I love you” to “you’re getting the wrong signals – I’m in love with Nairne.”

Damn it all to hell!

Remaining silent through the words of her colleagues was the wisest of her decisions. Of course, Raina smiled through her teeth when she recognized the many faces of her family – from the arrogant, near shirtless Mallik and the quiet gargantuan Mathew, to the highly agitated Nairne as she stormed up the tower stairway, caked from head to heel in dry mud. Each one of them held a special place in her heart - Demitrius notwithstanding – as brothers and sister, who after so many countless years, continued to shed sweat and tears together. But now they pulled off the most casual of interruptions as if they didn’t know what it was Caltrin was doing alone with Raina.

“Oh, Malllllik. Sweetheart. ”

When the words rolled off of her tongue they were no longer words – they were notes of a song. The lyrics were permeated in the sweetest sound, the sweetest danger. Like a master the woman drew out that last syllable, caging the man in a tomb of power which, in truth, could have made any number of things happen. The percussionist grinned the widest of nervous grins, a devious expression that spread from one ear to the other. His fear of what she could do to him showed as he cringed under the power fluctuating in her voice.

“Eheh…why don’ you drink with us, oy, Rain? I haven’ see n ya get floggin’ drunk since you put on that strip sho– OY-!” Right as the man was about to finish his sentence his words broke out into one of the highest, girliest of squeals imaginable. The man bowed over, cupping the sensitive area between his legs just as Raina’s tongue gave one piercing click against the top of her mouth. With a mischievous cackle her cerulean eyes swiveled over to Caltrin, softening briefly as her lips parted, her voice returning to that same silken tone it had been moments before.

“Don’t worry, he just got a mental blow to his balls, that’s all. Let’s go party!” Raina sung in that lovely sing-song voice, slowly clambering reluctantly to her feet. The black tresses of her gown fell naturally into place around her ankles, once more hiding the flesh of her legs. With that, the young vocalist extended her lovely slender fingers to the Maestro of River’s End, her cerulean eyes ablaze. What better way to discard her disappointment than to drown it away in alcohol? Besides. Applemead. Love.

Offhand, Mathew stared at Mallik with chocolate eyes as he crumpled to his knees, wheezing in what seemed like pain. For a flicker of a second you could see the hidden laughter in the giant’s expression, the twitch of his lips and the small rumble of his shoulders, causing his tussled locks to fall behind him. A quick glance at Nairne, however, had his smile quickly skittering back into nonexistence, a completely blank face returning the scornful glare sent his way. In that look he heard her every rage-filled word loud and clear. I-am-going-to-get-revenge.

It took everything he had not to smile again at the memory of her sharp face crumbling into a look of hilarious, dumbfounded surprise as her feet sunk into the pit of wet earth.

“Look at you all! Abandoning responsibility! I ask that you do not blame me tomorrow, sirs, when you have to address the students and you’re hung over! Would you not think it wisest to simply retire to our quarters-?” Nairne began. Her face contorted, tightening, one wicked eyebrow furrowed and the other raised, displaying her blatant disapproval for such childish activities. Each and every word was spoken slowly, severely, with every other word oozing thickly with emphasis, as if the lot of them wouldn’t catch her words if she spoke them any faster. It was Mallik, who despite his agony, retorted.

“Oy! Don’ geh your panties in a twist, eh? A few drinks and you won’ be such a haughty prude anymore!”

An abrupt kick to his already injured scrotum was enough to silence the poor abused percussionist.

Mathew’s booming laughter now bounced off of the walls, unrestrained. It was a rare sound, deep as was appropriate to his size. However, what made it rare was the fact that he never did, in fact, laugh around anyone other than this disorderly group of Conductors. Surly a small chuckle here and there, but never such a booming howl could be heard anywhere throughout all of Trisani. Even Nairne, who would usually remark on the obnoxious display of frivolity, stood triumphant beside the squirming Conductor, that severe face a sight to be seen when it wasn’t completely enveloped in angry wrinkles that didn't suit her still-young face.

Raina, too, had joined in on the joyous laughter. After having assisted Caltrin to his feet, smiling gently at the silent conversation they shared from that simple moment of contact, Raina saw in his eyes the knowledge of what needed to be said. The woman turned to the trio – Mallik, Nairne, and Mathew – and spoke.

“Right then. Let’s go get smashed!”

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The tour was something of an enlightening experience for Gale. He walked relatively close to Verda the majority of the way, dragging his feet, although his eyes wandered and brought him to places far, far away. Despite the opinions of most of his fellow juniors, Gale watched the Academy pass by with awe. Only in romanticists wildest dreams would they find themselves inside of such an establishment, let alone admitted as a student into one. Gale analyzed every detail with as much scrutiny as he could. All around instruments sounded, permeating the air with an intoxicating rhythm that could only be attained from the unity of so much talent. It was intimidating enough watching the seniors, let alone letting himself think of what the Conductors were capable of!

The gardens, it seemed, Gale immediately took to. As they traversed through the lush greenery the romanticist bit his bottom lip and slowed ever so slightly, eyes shifting cautiously around before he snatched up a rather tropical looking apple. It was too red to resist! As he lifted the fruit up to his lips and breathed a layer of fog onto its shinning surface, the girls in his group chatted away. Trotting a little faster to catch up to the group, Gale took his first bite, and listened to his first conversation. He noted the girl’s names – Lee, and Inaere. The boy, as he heard respectively afterwards, was called Dan.


As the tour progressed Gale slowly began to tune out the voices of everyone else except Verda. That valuable skill of selective hearing got him places many others could never go. In this instance, a state of calm mind where he wasn’t annoyed to high hell from the rotten stench of a foul drunkard and swooning females who couldn’t keep their traps shut. These were his thoughts – certainly – but one would never know them from his outward attitude. Calm, gentle, even if a bit tired. Although he yawned quite wide at the introduction to the Discordance Studio, he made it a point to smile politely to Verda when their eyes met; silently apologizing for his show of exhaustion and to prove that he was still being as attentive as he could. It was sublime. A home – his home, now. What a strange thing to say, when he had never once had the privilege to call a place that.

Now he did.

The excitement ended at the cafeteria, which wasn’t half as bad as he had expected. Mentally the guitarist noted that over fifty percent of the class body was probably still down at the festival – thus the explanation for the lack of succulent foods. With a quick scan of the long tables with his mauve beauties, Gale shifted the guitar on his back to a more suitable position and politely weaved between the crowds of girls to the line leading to the food. Everyone he passed he threw a smile – another point he made. Everywhere he went no one seemed to be capable of smiling, of showing their fellows a bit of merry greeting. It was as if human mannerisms had been discarded to the wolves to be replaced by bigots and pigs.

As Gale watched the sad progression of the line he calculated his desire to eat this rotten food. Obviously, someone had been too busy taking all of the good food downtown to have remembered that there were going to be students in need of edible nutrition. So, like so many others before him, Gale refrained from grabbing anything too extraneous and grabbed several more conveniently placed apples that looked identical to the one he had so thoughtlessly stolen from the garden. Outwardly he chuckled at his own little self-joke. In the process of not paying attention Gale turned around, three apples in hand, and practically ran headlong into Verda. Violet eyes were blanketed in a layer of apology, fumbling with the apples in his arms and feeling like a total idiot in the process. The heat of embarrassment rose to his cheeks a moment later, and his first words in River’s End Academy slipped through pursed, disappointed lips.

“Oh Gods, I’m sorry miss, I didn’t mean to…Oh. Hey, you’re the one who gave us the tour. Shit. No, I mean...Crap.” Gale stated the obvious, his eyes connecting with hers briefly before he was forced to focus on balancing those damned fruits again. Gritting his teeth at his own stupidity, the guitarist glanced quickly up at the senior one last time.

“Mine taking one o’ these off my hands? Took too many.”

In the next second he was relieved of one of his charge, and thus, his difficulty. Gale straightened himself, holding an apple in each hand, with one clenched between the two. A mortified sigh escaped him as his purple beauties finally settled upon the young woman’s face, locks of chocolate tossed back so he could see her properly. That signature smile, or it certainly would soon become so, spread across finely chiseled lips, which themselves looked to have been carved from the finest marble. Charming, Gale. Charming.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Name’s Gale, eh? I’d shake your hand, but I kind o’ got my hands full.”

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Lee couldn't see her sudden guests, but she heard them well enough. One, obviously enough, was Verda, the terse girl who'd led their tour through the school grounds. The senior had yet to relieve of the second of his apparent chagrin, and so Lee had yet to gauge a reaction, though she might have guessed, should she have cared to do so, based on what she'd heard of Verda's voice beforehand. Lee chuckled to herself as she sat against the side of the building, munching a piece of fruit she'd picked up from the cafeteria.

She'd always thought it was funny how little people saw, even the sighted ones. The amount of things people missed--from little things, like plants and insects, to bigger things like buildings and important senior students--was obscene. All because they were so wrapped up in current plans, everything they saw rushed by them in a blur of sound and color. When she was younger, angry at her situation, before Ariane had scolded the bitter envy out of her, she would sit and think about her seeing classmates and wonder whether it was selfishness or ignorance that compelled them to rush through life at breakneck pace.

Lee couldn't see the colors, but her 'visual impairment,' as the doctors liked to call it meant that the sounds didn't rush by her as they would most. In addition to surviving, indeed thriving, off her sense of sound, she tended to take things slower, lest she fall prey to her own pride and foolishness and trip over a root she'd missed. In this way, she learned much more about the world than anyone who have ever expected her to. She knew a person in his entirety after only a few moments' conversation with him; she could read the pauses in his voice, she the expressions on his face. She could tell a bird from its call, an emotion from its verbal expression, and a storm wind from its howling through the trees.

Now, she could tell this Gale fellow--a guitarist, if she remembered correctly--had been rushing through the gardens as so many were prone to do, and was now trying to clean up his mess via a heap of befuddled and embarrassed words. He didn't seem the type to get flustered, she thought, and had recovered well enough by the end of his brief tirade. She suspected it was the new school atmosphere making him jumpy, and wondered when--and if--the nerves would get to her. Now, aside from missing her mother, she only felt an intense calm permeating from the school, or more accurately, the music inside.

Lee stood quietly, whispering to Schroeder. "Come on, Roe. We've eavesdropped enough for today. I want to go find something to play, anyway."

Together, the unlikely pair traced their way back through the hallways, Lee running her fingers along the ledger lines in the wall. At one point, she stopped and turned to the wall, lifting her slight frame up onto her toes to place the palm of her right hand squarely against the wall. Her hand rested between the third and fourth horizontal lines: a C note. Middle C, though an octave below where she now rested, had always been her favorite. Cliche as it was, it was the first note she'd happened upon when playing what her mother called her "Life Song," the same song she'd just auditioned (successfully) with. Though much of the song changed, as should any song sharing its namesake with the endless tide that was Life, the starting point remained the same: a C major scale, moving stepwise through its components. It was a simple beginning to a complex and familiar piece.

Pulling her hand from the wall and turning on her journey again, she wondered idly if these public manuscripts had been filled yet. She quickly dismissed that thought, however; she couldn't feel the buzz or hum of music under her fingers.

Eventually, she found herself in a practice room and followed her gut to an old grand piano. She could practically feel the thing writhing, stretching like a dog near to fire her gentle hands, waiting to be played. It felt venerable, resigned to its age, as an old pet content to be stroked, hiding its eagerness behind a veil of self-aware nobility. Lee, however, could not contain her excitement at the aged beauty. She appeased its wishes, as she took a seat without further hesitation and let her fingers wander the keys even as her mind wandered the empty halls.

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One quickly realizes that when searching for someone, questions should be asked to locate said individual. For a mute though, this was a rather complicated task, especially when this mute was able to write in only a very broken english. This combined with the fact that those who would be on the receiving end of the questions were mostly impatient teenagers made Raleigh's job impossible. He'd given up about five minutes in, his mounting frustration having toppled his drive for the moment. A chance to clear the mind was what was needed, so he wandered off down one of the halls.

Raleigh walked slowly, making sure his feet never touched the lines where stone tile met stone tile. Eventually he began to hop about, looking quite rediculous as he did so, and hoping that no teachers would appear before him.
After a few minutes he stopped and resumed his leisurely pace, admiring the masonry and carpentry of the fine establishment.

It wasn't long before the familiar sound of the piano caught his attention, leading him to the source as the sweet smell of pie lures little tykes. He leaned in the doorway and cast his eyes about, letting them fall on the lady who sat playing the grand piano. She was obviously quite skilled at playing, leading him to believe that she was perhaps a senior. Not wanting to interupt her though, he slowly and quietly made his way over, taking a seat a on the floor a few feet away while he waited for her to either notice him or finish.

Verda merely tsked mentally at the thought of what Phillipe had said. As is she would ever be jealous of anyone who was unlucky enough to be in love with that creature.

When the woman... Inarie, she believed she had said, had come up to speak to her, she really hadn't know how to respond to her question about jobs, but when she was called away, she was slightly relived; Verda had never liked being unable to answer a question.

When the auburn haired woman saw the food that was waiting in the cafeteria, she let out a small groan. She figured the food wouldn’t be up to par with what they usually had, but this was a bloody disgrace. From the looks of things, it looked like the few people who had been stuck working in the cafeteria today had simply put together anything they could find left over and deemed it ‘edible’. Personally, Verda wouldn’t be surprised if some of the… stranger looking items simply stood up and started walking away.

Sighing, Verda skipped over all of the cooked “food” and instead placed some of the better looking fruits onto her tray, grabbing a few particularly tasty looking peaches, amazed that something decent looking had remained out from the booths down in the common grounds. Just as she was turning around, she felt something crash into her. After regaining her balance, she noticed it was one of the students that had been in her tour. As he spoke, she could tell he was at least a little nervous, and as he spoke, she simply smiled at him.

“Sure, just throw it onto my tray. The fruit seems to be the only edible thing they plan to serve us today.” She sighed softly, shaking her head as she took the apple from Gale and placed it nonchalantly with the other fruit on her tray.

“Hello Gale. My name’s Verda. Can’t quite remember if I ever told any of you my name when I was giving the tour…” Her voice trailed off as she looked into the young man’s face. Oh yes, she could already tell that he would be one to break many a heart during his time here at the school.
Shrugging, green eyes scanned the room, and after a moment of searching, found an empty booth in the back off the room.

“Care to join me Gale? I managed to find a decent amount of salvageable fruits among that garbage, and I wouldn’t mind the company. There are so few guitarists in the school, and I’m very glad to see that we got at least one new one.” Verda smiled sweetly at the violet eyed man, genuinely wishing to spend some time getting to know him. It was known that the guitarists of the school had their own little clique, if only because the instrument they choose to play was not a very commonly seen one. It also didn’t help that Ms. Raina, a guitarist herself, liked to gather up all the guitar players and spend hours “jamming” in one of the school’s many studios.

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Never doubt me, for you may find it to be the last mistake you ever make.

An impulsive wince shuddered through Mathew and Caltrin at the same time, both men shaking their heads in rueful unison as they watched their friend crumble to the floor. For as grand as seeing almost his colleagues gathered here, drinks and dinner in hand for a raucous night of debauched celebration, there was only one thing he could want more... and that was to discover, finally, just what Raina's lips tasted like. Not to mention having her finally and completely sign her heart to him like he'd done so long ago to her, swept up and swooning to his heartfelt confession. Thus, when Caltrin spotted Nairne's telegraphed knee blow miles ahead, he did nothing to stop it; sorry, Mate. You kind of earned that one. Still, though, if there was one medicine to cure the wounds, he'd certainly found it.

Applemead, sugar and sin in a dark wooden barrel. For all of its allure and rarity, Applemead was hardly an exotic delicacy. There'd be no chalices of the dark golden beverage in courtsor banquet halls; quite the opposite, the little-known mead could only be found in the seediest of towns, served in the dingiest of bars. In the sin-infested port town of Silver Bend in the rinky-dink establishment known as The Devil's Horns, Applemead was all they served. In truth, it was all they needed to; the scant few who learned about it knew of its wiles, being both sweet and smooth and deceivingly potent. It spoke of Caltrin's upbringing on the streets and life as a wandering journeman bard that he even knew of the drink at all, though what few times he'd been able to ship a cask of it so far North had made even the pompous Demitrius second-guess his decadent childhood.

Thus he found himself gingerly tip-toeing around the prone Mallik al'Vere to scoop up two mugs from the tray, his sights set on the scored barrel. With some aid from Master Shackleford the two hoisted it up on a pedestal and, with a stout slap on the giant man's back to let him know just how glad the Maestro was that he was there, began to fill the mugs. Ever the proper host, the first he delivered to Raina, offering it over with a courtier's nod... and a knowing glance, whispered promises floating in those darkly mischievous sapphires. This isn't over, you... I'll win you over yet. Fingers brushed as they exchanged the mugs and the colorin his cheeks intensified just a touch, but he was quick to turn away to hide the fact.

Next on his route; Caltrin stood, undaunting in his smile, as he offered the second mug to Nairne. "Me? No, Maestro, I c-couldn't, I... ah, I need to get cleaned up, for one, and-," she yammered, only to be cut off by a ringing call of a trumpet. Mathew Shackleford, as if on cue, had somehow found a curved and twisted trumpet in the mini-museum of instruments Caltrin had in his office, and was blowing forth the sweetest of notes. Fingers to the valves, those wavering, metallic tones flowed through the air as a burning emerald tone glowed from the thin slits Mathew's eyes had become. All upward and along Nairne's body the mud cracked, flaked and, all at once, fell from her body and clothes, leaving her as clean as she had been that morning. Setting the instrument down, Mathew simply grinned his large, oafish grin at the two.

"R-really, Headmaster, I mustn't, I'm n-not much of a drinker..." she complained a sshe took a step back, to which Caltrin only met her step and extended the mug further. That smile on his face, cheerful and inviting, was unwaveringly rigid and, despite his layabout attire he might as well have been wearing his Maestro's robes for all of the charismatic power he exuded. Tilting his head forward in the slightest of inclinations seemed to say the words he could not: The drink is rare, the company fair and the night yet young. Besides, you wouldn't want to keep your employer so blatantly unenthused about your lack of participation in team-building exercises such as this, would you? With a gulp and a sigh, Nairne reinforced her smile and took the mug from him, clasping it gingerly in both hands.

"Grea'," came the wobbling words from the floor, where Mallik was only now beginning to get up. "Now this shindig's finally a party!"

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"There 'e was, all twelve stones of our slender and lanky (no offense, mate) Maestro, outnumbered six to one, with a damsel very much in distress to defend... what was 'e to do?"

A solid hour had passed and the group now sat in their makeshift theater-in-the-round, with Mallik at the forefront, animate as ever as he told his story. Nairne and Mathew shared the sofa, perfectly sized for it, Mallik stood over the stool he'd found and Raina and Caltrin sat snugly in the loveseat. The blue-haired Maestro sat bowled over the lute in his lap; fingers tot he strings, he played a suspenseful accompaniment to Mallik's story, just as he'd done so many years ago when he started out as a traveling bard. Multiple stories had been told through the night and multiple trips to the barrel had been made by all save for Nairne. One wouldn't think it, though, for with her mug only half emptied, she was redder than most. Perched on the edge of her seat, she urged the bard to continue.

"Now, keep in mind, Caltrin and our dear Raina 'ad yet to meet, unless you call a shy bob of 'is 'ead as she delivered 'im a plate of dinner an hour previous an introduction. No, 'e'd been staying in the same inn Raina 'ere worked, and, by some trick of fate or calling of destiny, couldn't sleep. All the better, for at that exact moment Raina was being accosted by six ne'er-do-wells of the night, none of which could get it across their thick skulls that when a woman like 'er said no, she meant it. But I'm repeating myself; back at the present, curious Caltrin tip-toed out of the inn where 'e came upon the sight; young, innocent Raina Trelave surrounded by this gang of thugs. With no voice and no weapon, what could 'e possibly do?!"

Plucking the highest of notes in a continuous melody, Caltrin heightened the intensity of the moment with his melody. Mallik was in full-swing; this wasn't the first time he'd told this story and it showed; he seemed to have the thug's expressions, Raina's whimpering cower and Caltrin's stalwart determination all down perfect. He stomped about the room as he described the men, tiptoed and shook as he told of Raina's reactions and stealthily approached as he ghosted Caltrin's performance from that fateful night, so many years ago. "W-w-what did he *hic* do!?" Nairne, only half a mug in, was as redfaced and taken with the story as any of Mallik's harem of fan girls, and every bit as entranced by his story.

"I'll tell you what 'e did. For though he was unarmed 'e wasn't without his lute, for no Bard worth his marbles would ever be without his instrument. Cal and his lute there were one and the same, and there was no night he was more grateful to have it than this one. For as those men began to move in 'e turned the corner, strings a'blazing. 'e played, 'e played and 'e played and 'e played, a frantic and furious melody the likes of which set the nighttime on fire with his music. Water, that single life-force we all need and drink, began to seep from their pores, a mist leeching through their very skin to form a foul cloud of their dank sins, friends. With each step 'e played 'arder and with each step they drew thinner; thinner and thinner until they were not but straw and bone... and every bit as brittle. With gasping, thirsting croaks they fell, dominoes to the music that pushed them! 'Is lady saved and 'is music triumphant, the two met and she rewarded our fair bard with the swee'est of kisses. That, ladies and gents, was 'ow we'd found ourselves a Conductor of Life."

A flourish and a bow on his part was met with full fledged whooping applause all around, Nairne the loudest of the audience, Mathew simply smiling approvingly. The Maestro, having played as furiously as Mallik described him, played the part of accompaniment well and ended the story with a flourish of his own, sweeping his hand out tot he audience as he had so many times on cramped common rooms of taverns and inns. Caltrin's claps were for Mallik, but his gaze was solely locked on Raina's. Nostalgia and intimacy swam in those pools as he drew her back with him to that fateful night. For all of Mallik's flourishes and well-chosen words, he was still a bard and his story exaggerated. There were three men, all told, and Caltrin didn't strum the water from their bodies; still a fledgling in the ways of water manipulation and Playing magic at all, his attacks were nothing so sophisticated. Instead, he'd quickly fished a flask of water form his pack and poured it into the open air, using his notes to guide them like a boxer's glove to each assailant. Bewildered and terrified from the magic, he'd only managed to knock out two of them as the third fled, screaming, into the night.

What caused his eyes to catch hers so intimately, however, was not the act of saving her. It was the aftermath that had his eyes burnishing a fiery tone underneath the blues, reminiscing with a nostalgic joy. There was no kiss, there never had been... but the moment they'd shared there, out beneath the stars, was far more fulfilling than any gesture so simple could have ever been. The secret glinted in his eyes, and instinct alone guided his hand to her knee, warmth spreading from his palm to her flesh. Seemingly on the verge of saying something then, his fingers twitching at his side as they so-often did when he was forming the words in his mind, he was soon cut-off. The interruption came in the form of the starry-eyed Nairne, foggy-voiced and obviously plastered.

"C-c-caltrin, you were... *hic!* NO. You ARE... dreeeeeamy."

Eyebrows raised and the smile that lit up his face was poorly hidden, looking to Raina again, he jutted forth his lower lip in consideration. Dreamy, eh? What's your say?


Mallik caught the gaze shared between the two and cracked a smirk, catching Mathew's eyes and nodding in the pair's direction. Lookit these two, eh? Perhaps the only two people left on this camput who don't know they're hopelessly in love with each other, his glance seemed to say. Mathew let out a hearty laugh at that, his alreayd booming laugh magnified by the intoxicating Applemead. Mallik quickly followe dup, to which Nairne joined in, oblivious as to what they were laughing about.

"But look at the bloke now, the only one of us whose got 'is 'ead on straight. A school full of musicians and a room full of the finest of the few, and 'e's the only one wot's got an instrument in 'is 'and! Up! Up the lazy lot of you! Pick your weapon from this motley display of ornate instruments, and let's see if we can't show our students below just why it is they signed up to begin with, eh?"

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Ayaka followed near the front of the group as Phillipe lead them around the school, showing them where this thing or that thing was while accompanying the tour with his own rhythmic song. She looked around in a sort of childish wonder that she possessed at all the new things of her new school, of her new home. She could feel the excitement of her first class on the upcoming Monday building up inside of her she almost couldn't contain it! The school had been as gorgeous outside as it had been on the inside and she had got to learn this first hand on their tour.

As the senior boy ended the tour, he showed them to their dormitories, one for girls and one for boys. Before departing, he shifted his gaze to her visage, transforming the tools that held her hair up into small gorgeous butterflies that quickly fled from her head. It was enthralling, as she turned to watch the little creatures disappear from her sight. Realizing her hair was now somewhat limp, she drew out two more plastic hair-ties from her leather satchel and refastened her golden locks back the way they should have been, all the while the group of vocalists dispersing around her. Eager to see her room and who she may or may not be staying with, she heard a loud disturbing sound erupt from her stomach. Ayaka then realized she hadn't eaten since yesterday.

Eagerly making her way to the cafeteria, a young brunette girl made her way up behind Ayaka that was about as tall as her, she came beside her and said in an upbeat cheerful voice,

"Hi! My name's Samantha! But you can call me Sam, I see you're a Vocal student, too!"

Ayaka nodded at her, smiling, "Yes, I'm a new student here."

"Me too! You wanna eat together?"

Ayaka hesitantly nodded in agreement. This girl was a little too perky for her tastes, but she was in no position to turn down a friend on her first day at a new school. The girls went up and got in line, Sam almost tiring her eardrums out as she continued to talk on and on and on about herself and just general things about life and the school. Trays in hand, they took a seat at the end of one of the long rectangular tables nearest to the door and began to eat. Ayaka had to stop and make sure she wasn't eating too savagely here and there. She wasn't overweight and didn't have a food complex or something, she just made a point of never missing a meal and when she did, she couldn't operate properly until she did.

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Leony had heard the person coming since their light-footed foray down the hall, but she didn't stop playing. Judging by the way they first peeked in, then sat down silently, they hadn't meant to interrupt her, and she was in no trouble for playing. Still, she considered it rude to continue for as long as she'd intended while there was a new comrade to meet, most likely another student, if the uncertain footsteps were anything to go by.

Besides, Schroeder, ever the curious fellow, was like to meet to new person, first, and then where would she be.

She ended her song simply, the same way she'd begun, with a C major, then, without waiting for the notes to fade from the air, turned pale green eyes from the beautiful beast, and grinned at the person who'd just joined.

"Hello," she said brightly. "I'm Lee...well, Leony, but no one calls me that. This is Schroeder, but no one calls him that, either, unless he's in trouble. He's Roe. We're new here. Are you? I think you are, but I suppose it's nicer to ask first, isn't it?"

She paused a moment, noticing his unusual silence. Not that she'd given him a chance to speak, but a person generally makes some noise upon meeting someone else. She'd noticed these things, 'seeing' with her ears as she was prone to do. A sigh, a hum, a whistle. But her small audience had done none of these things. Certainly they hadn't left; she hadn't heard them go. She cocked her head to the side.

"You're awfully quiet, you know. Are you alright?"

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