The temple was a massive structure, supported by columns and walls. Softened and weathered with time, its marble body stood no longer as a haughty creation of Man, but a being rightly claimed by nature. Canals filled with idle water ran on either side of the room and converged to an elevated platform. Orbs of light hung in the air, like ornaments on a tree, that were made of a pure, blue light.

On the platform sat a figure swathed in drapes of swirling patterns. They were dwarfed by the grandiosity of the temple, but sat with a comfortable poise. With their legs folded beneath them, hands on their lap, they were completely still as the water, the orbs, the air. Waiting.

The sharp sound of a chime. One of the orbs began to pulsate, and the figure opened its eyes sharply—an intense gleam that reflected the light. A flash to the left. Then right. Left again.

One by one, the orbs began to dim and glow in quick succession. The entire temple lit up in a silent symphony of light. The figure traced the movement of the orb closest to them. It bobbed up and down in time with its light patterns, the only one to exhibit any movement. It jerked to the right and bumped into another, the collision creating a fierce flash. The figure flinched and lowered the rim of their hood, narrowed eyes locked onto the orb. It jerked around a bit more, excited and unsure, before it drifted in front of the sitting figure. It floated gently downwards, flashing all the while, and as it touched the ground, the other lights that filled up the room extinguished in a final flash.

The only light within the entire temple came only from the orb, but it had taken on a changed form; it looked like a glass ball now, emanating a constant light rather than being composed of it. The figure hovered a hand over the orb that rested at their knees, with long, silken sleeves dripping to the ground.

A swipe of the hand—

and the final light was extinguished, swallowing the temple in darkness.

---

“That’s beside the point. What matters is the application of it—the power and scope of it would be unprecedented!”

“It’s precisely then that such application requires unprecedented care."

Two people sat across from another separated by an oaken table, neatly arranged compared with the rest of the small room; colorful knick-knacks peppered the shelves and books were stacked in every crevice. One had a handsome, androgynous face and leaned forward with an arm perched onto the wooden tabletop; while the other was old and gaunt, with his back to the chair and arms crossed. They stared at each other, ignoring the soft ticking from somewhere in the room.

The androgynous figure knocked her fist on the oaken counter top in frustration, a dull noise lost amidst the intensity, “Everything has consequences. And what about the implications of not applying a new magical technique? We’ll run ourselves to our grave with only talk."

“Ah, Esme—but you're asking the right questions,” the old man said with a mischievous lilt, “that’s already half of the work needed to be done."

Esme froze a moment before leaning back into the oaken seat with a shake of her head. The man in front of her smiled in return and they sat quietly, the sound of a clock ticking dominating the silence.

“Arty,” she said, “once I do come up with a way to make this revolutionary, surely fantastical application of magic succeed, I definitely won’t come to you."

“I have no doubt,” Artemis replied. He picked up the pipe that had been resting on the table, wispy curls of smoke rising from the intricate piece, and took a deep inhale.

Esme watched him exhale, something like an old dragon, thick smoke hinting at churning embers somewhere she couldn’t see. She’d found herself enjoying his company more and more from when she first met him; they got along like friends for whom time had no cutting edge. She respected his honesty and intellect, always pushing her to look beyond what she could see. He admired her blazing charisma and quiet thoughtfulness, a combination he had encountered in very few people throughout his life.

They met while Esme had been searching for her hero advisor, something that all “heroes” were required to do as a part of their training package. The boring, patronizing, and crazy options—she’d sat through them all and decided that she was going to go mad before completing her training—then she met Artemis, a fiercely respected intellectual within the dark magic department.

Esme patted the armrest of her chair and pushed herself to stand, “Well, I’m heading out now. I’ve got to wrap up this mission before the day ends. It’s always a pleasure to see you, Arty."

"A few more before your final one, correct? And stop calling me that.” Artemis rolled his eyes, and took another inhale of his pipe.

“That’s right. I’ll be out of here soon, though perhaps not saving the world, as everyone else is convinced I’ll be doing.” She grabbed her brown coat at the hanger near the entrance and pushed down on the metal handle of the door.

“Goodbye, Esme. I expect nothing less than magical application the world desperately needs the the next time you roll around."

“I know you’ll make do with whatever I bring,” She laughed and pulled the handle behind her, the door sliding snuggly into its frame with a firm thud.

Tryilendarel Nerinya sat on a bench in the shade of a large tree on the university's grounds, his back against Mira's. She had finished her work for the day, and asked him for some music, and the elf was only too happy to oblige. He was a minstrel by trade and a wanderer by nature, never really content to stay in any place for too long. It was strange, he reflected for what must be the thousandth time over the past year or two, but with her around the call of the road faded. Worrying, even. Still, he didn't have to concern himself about the matter much longer. Mira and the others who were training for the harebrained save-the-world quest the Oracle wanted to send them on were nearly done -- and there was no way he'd be going with them.

A complicated run on his harp took all of his attention to execute, and by the time he finished the introspective mood had passed. He had his music, he had a gorgeous lover, and he had all the time in the world. Life was good. "You should sing one, Mira," he told her, sending a wide smile over his shoulder.

"Nooo, I'm not singing! We're in public!"

"But your voice is lovely! I don't understand why you won't give others the pleasure of listening~"

The young woman blushed, but was saved having to protest further when she spotted Esme coming across the yard. "Hey, where're you off to?" she called, sitting up. She knew the other potential chosen well enough; they weren't precisely close friends, but certainly beyond mere acquaintances. She enjoyed Esme's company, but almost anything would do to escape Trill's pleading that she sing. If she stayed, she would probably end up giving in. He was terribly persuasive.

She ventured into the main courtyard of the academy, a large open space with green grass with a few clustered trees. Sunlight shone on her cheek as she walked out of the roofed hallway, held up by high marble columns. Suddenly her coat was a little too warm, and as she walked, beads of sweat gathered at the back of her neck.

People lay scattered around the courtyard, some laying leisurely in the sun, some showing off their combat skills to their dis-interested friends. It was a nice day, but she felt no need to bask in it. She spent most of her time either in the city, bantering with Artemis, or on missions, and put little effort in creating friendships at the university. It wasn’t a surprise. She was here to get her training finished and become a diplomat of the Kingdom—that was it.

“Hey! Where’re you off to?"

A familiar voice. A figure, Mira, waved to her from beneath a tree, speckles of shade cast on her and the person beside her—Trill? Trill. Not a chosen, but pleasant enough. Though she didn’t have many bard friends; they were a little too romantic to be around for more than a couple hours. She stopped walking and moved to sit at the corner of the path, where the stone floor stepped down into grass.

“Hey, you two,” she flashed a pleasant smile and settled into a comfortable sitting position, “I’m heading to the city to some shopping, then a party in the evening.” which was actually a mission, but she said nothing of it. The Rivers was a noble house in the city, and Esme had been cordially invited to the birthday party of the eldest son out of pure luck. The family was renowned for being disgustingly exclusive, but she’d encountered the boy’s uncle at a bar, where she challenged him to a drinking contest. She won.

“It’s a beautiful day today; perfect weather for a horseback ride to the inner city. Or laying in the grass, soaking up the sunshine. They’re well deserved pleasures.” She resisted tugging at her neck collar. It was too hot, now.

”How're you doing? It’s not much longer before we complete training."

"Oh, that sounds like fun, mind I join you?" Mira sat up a bit taller. She was always up for a trip into the city. She'd grown up in a rural area, but she loved the city with all the people and never a lonely moment. "I don't have anything else today, and a bit of shopping would be great."

Trill rolled his eyes and nudged her with an elbow, but he was smiling. Esme wasn't bad company, really, and he could play for a crowd just as easily as he could give a mostly-private concert. Would even make a bit of money, and he'd have Mira to himself later. "A party, huh? I must be mistaken, because they have sticks up their behinds, but you don't mean the ones the Rivers are putting on, do you?" He might not act it most of the time, but the elf was clever. "Man, I don't know if I'd care to handle all the stuffed shirt -- it's terribly draining -- but I bet the outfits will be amazing. Nobles always have money to spend on that sort of thing." Trill himself was always well-dressed, at least compared to most. He was a gifted musician and seemed to charm even the toughest crowds. Well-tailored attire was one of the luxuries he enjoyed.

"As if they'd ever invite one of us common folk," Mira retorted, wrinkling her nose.

"There might be someone else having a less...publicized affair," Trill allowed. "That's just the one everyone's talking about."

"At any rate, I'm doing pretty well. Managed to sweep my combat instructor off her feet, though she /still/ beat me. Getting a solid hit Estelle didn't expect, that's been a personal goal of mine since day one." Mira took her combat training very seriously, and the triumph had her grinning. "Not even that grumpy swordsman and his needling could bring me down today -- and he's the next one I'm going to give a good whack."

At the mention of Estelle, she laughed, ”I wish I could have seen that! ‘Stell is a tough one, and I’ve not gotten near her just yet—and of course you both can come. I’d appreciate the company."

Esme paused and grinned devilishly at Trill, “and I do mean the Rivers. I understand the sentiment, and that only makes being on the other side a more interesting affair. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the on the seasonal attire and report back.”

She lifted herself up and stood, peeking up at the sky. At midday, the sun was still high in and would remain there for many hours before dusk came. It was the middle of summer, which meant the days were long and the nights short.

“I’ll be gathering some things from my room, and I can meet you at the south exit when you’re ready.”

Esme waved goodbye and continued to her quarters, located in the west wing of the university. It was a quieter, greener place, brushing right next to the forests that surrounded the academy. It seemed located in a world of its own, despite being an half an hour ride from Meridell.

When she first arrived, she wondered about the practicality of having a university, so boastful of its teachings and training methods, feeling so isolated from the world outside. Though there were much faster ways to get to and from locations than horseback, public transportation portals being an option, the idea of isolating yourself for learning was an romantic ideal meant for philosophizers and academics—not fighters.

Though Artemis would disagree, she mused.

She followed the cobbled road to to an old brick building, ivy and vines creeping up its walls. The wild would have devoured it long ago, but it was so old, and so enchanted, that it had practically developed a spirit of its own. One of the wooden doors acquiesced under the push of her palm, lined with her magic signature. Her quarters were modest, and she made a beeline towards her bedroom in the back. Various vials lay askew on her bedstead, and she grabbed them all, tucking them away in her leather satchel which lay at the foot of her bed. She opened the closet at the corner, and unlocked the chest that lay at the bottom—there were her weapons and valuables, which she meticulously arranged on her character; dagger in her boot, needles in the lining of her belt, and an medium sized axe strapped into the holster on her back, the only visible weapon she had. It was always put her mind in a steady place, slotting her weapons exactly where they belonged.

With satchel tucked on her shoulder, she gave one last look at her room, before turning to leave the building.

Her horse was at the west stables, near the exit, but the fasted exit to Meridell was the south. She walked quickly to the west stables and found her steed, a 5 year old horse that only responded to “carrot”.

“Dull witted as always,” Esme mumbled, giving it a quick, rough pat on the mane. She led the horse out by the reigns, and pulled herself upright on its saddle. After a quick readjustment on the seat, she nudged the side of the horse, and was sent galloping to the south exit.

The elf's eyes widened. "Really? That's impressive. I'm certain there's a story behind the invitation, and it's one I'm sure will grow in the telling." He grinned and winked. Trill was not the sort to pass on something someone would prefer kept quiet. His smile widened even further at the promise of details. He dressed well, and tried to stay abreast of fashion when he could. Mira was interested too, though she often pretended she wasn't. Though she liked pretty clothing and flowing dresses, she couldn't afford to get the fancy things that the upper classes wore for such affairs -- nor could she move freely in such attire.

"We'll see you there in a bit, Esme," the young healer replied. She leaned back against Trill for a moment, and then got to her feet, grabbing her glaive from where it lay in the grass. "Right, better get moving," she told the elf as he stood as well, sliding his harp into its case and fastening it shut.

"Why don't you go get what you need, and I'll get the horses ready?" he asked, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "That way by the time Esme's ready, Kelsey will be ready to stop playing around." They parted ways, Mira to student housing and Trill to the stables. As expected, the dappled gray jennet that Mira rode did her best to keep him from putting the saddle on properly. "You're a tease, you know that?" he told the mare, tapping her side. "You just like the attention. Come now, stop sucking in air and then I can give you proper attention. How does that sound?" With a combination of stern scolding and sweet cajoling, Trill finished with Kelsey and went to saddle his own horse. Dancer was a long-legged gelding from the elven lands, with the disnctive golden color so commonly found there. "At least you don't fool around like that."

Mira didn't waste time, grabbing her coinpurse and the shoulderbag she usually took into town. Passing in front of the mirror, she paused to look at the reflection that stared back at her, one hand going automatically to the scar on her cheek. It was an ugly and glaring marking, in her eyes, a memento of the day her town had been attacked by a band of lizardfolk raiders, a common hazard where she'd grown up. Not all lizardfolk were bandits, of course, nor all bandits lizardfolk, but the experience had soured her on both. With a sigh she turned away from the mirror and went to meet up with the others.

Trill was waiting both both horses by the time Mira and Esme joined him at the south gate. "All ready, ladies?" He asked, flashing them a bright smile. He passed Kelsey's reins to Mira and swung up into Dancer's saddle. "Shall we?"

---

The ride into town was uneventful, and before shadows began to lengthen again they had arrived. Trill swung down from his saddle, and tossed a coin to a nearby boy who looked hopefully his way. "We most likely won't be back for them for at least an hour, maybe two or three. See to it they're well looked after, and there's two more of those in it for you." The boy nodded, giving a gap-toothed smile and holding out a hand for Trill's reins, and then those of the two ladies. Then he ambled off, the three steeds in tow.

"So," Mira said brightly, looking at Esme. "Where should we go first?"

---

“Well,” Esme cocked her hip playfully and put her hand to her chin, ”I have to pick up something at the tailor. It’s in the Retiro district—yes, the fancy one—but there’s also a weekend market in the area. Crafts, food, colors all around.”

They started walked, and soon from grass they transitioned to the cobble stone streets of the city. The sound of her boots clacking on the stone was a familiar one, and she immediately felt more relaxed; hands in her pockets, she whistled a sprightly tune, and led the way to Retiro.

Yellow trams powered by magic cut down the middle of the streets, and the buzz of city life increased as they neared its center. Children scampered through alleyways and parks, chasing each other and giggling, while every man and woman seemed to be outside, either seated near tables outside of restaurants or on benches or just standing and chatting, soaking up the day. Summer tended to do that to a city.

Meridell was one of the biggest port cities in the country, situated on a river connected to the ocean a little further down, from which other countries could reach the inner continent. From where they were, they had to cross a small strip of the river to reach Retiro, which existed on it’s own isolated peninsula of land. It was mainly home to upscale establishments and a few noble homes, so you’d rarely find reason to go there except sightseeing—but the weekend market was something of note.

Lines of triangular steamers connected the stands in the main square of Retiro, vibrant blues, reds and yellows alluring the passing visitor to stay and look. Trinkets lay on the stands of many merchants, who chatted amiably with whomever took took time to pass. The smell of baked bread and pastries drifted amongst the stands, wafting from bakeries in the area that opened their doors and windows. Birds chirped, people chattered, money traded—she was always hit by the stark richness when she visited; this was the greatest deception of the district. Had someone taken the time to look across the river, to where there was bridge, they would see the shanties and poor that piled up in a peninsula of their own.

“Esme!”

She stopped where she was, gently putting down the glass vial she’d casually examined back onto the clothed merchant’s table and looked over her shoulder. It was Edward, the uncle of Lord Edmund Rivers whom she hadn’t seen since the night at the bar. Impeccably dressed, he bounded towards the trio with a grin under his bobbing mustache, thick and perfectly groomed.

“What a pleasure to see you here! I figure I’d come down to grab my nephew something a little more humble than the lavish gifts he’s accustomed to."

“Edward, It’s good to see you, too." She plastered on an easy grin, and cocked her head, “and here I thought you’d still be recovering.”

“You scoundrel,” he guffawed, cuffing her on the shoulder again, “Let's have another go, and we’ll see who the victor is this time.”

“Most surely,” she lowered her head in joking acquiescence.

An awkward pause. Esme moved quickly to introduce her companions, to whom Edward had spared no glance.

“—and these are my good friends, Trill and Mara. We’ve known each other for some time. Trill is a talented bard and Mara a skilled healer."

A switch turned on as he turned to her friends.

“Any friend of Esme is a friend of mine!” He boomed, exuding jubilance. As Esme watched him turn his attention to Mira and Trill, she was hit by relief at how fond, almost trusting, Ed had become of her. It made everything a little easier.

Both of them lit up at the mention of Retiro, Mira primarily at the market and Trill at both. "Oh excellent," Mira said. "I absolutely love the market. So many things to look at, and never all the same as last time." Trill joined in when Esme started whistling, easily picking up the melody and then improvising harmonies. He half-wished he'd bright his harp, but he didn't imagine that Mira would let him settle on a corner for more than a few minutes, and his like wood flute would more than suffice for that, without the bulk.

The healer never tired of watching the tall ships on the river. Before Meridell, she'd never imagined so much water. There was a lake a few days' ride from where she'd grown up, but the ocean and its constant motion seemed so much larger. She stopped to watch them for a moment as they crossed the bridge, the wind off the sea whipping her hair back from her face.

Retiro was lively as always, a cheerful riot of colors, sounds, and smells. Trill soaked it all in. He was most at home in a crowd like this, the ebb and flow of the people around him somehow calming in its very chaos. He knew about the /other/ peninsula too, of course, and he'd ventured there as well on his wanders. Rich or poor, everyone loved a good tune, and he didn't care too my about maximizing his earnings, as long as he averaged a decent amount. Retito and its market made that easy. "There was this one stall I found last time I was here that had some of the best dumplings I've had the pleasure of eating," he commented to the ladies. "I do hope they're here again today. You two should try them."

He might have said more, but an exuberant voice calling Esme's name interrupted them, and he turned to see a broad a shouldered, mustachioed lord coming towards them. He recognized Lord Edward, had even seen the man stopnto listen to a song once when he was passing, but he doubted the lord remembered a random street performer.

Mira had no clue who the man was, but he greeted Esme as a friend, so she wasn't more than a little intimidated by his obvious wealth. She did turn her head subtly so that her scarred cheek was further away, but that was something she did as often as not around new people. She was was more than a little startled to learn his identity.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Edward," Trill said with a small bow. Beside him, Mira quickly bobbed an awkward curtsey and said something polite but ultimately meaningless. She had never rweally interacted with nobility, and was at a loss for anything meaningful to say. Trill easily stepped into the gap.

"I have to admit, the news of increased monster sightings near town is concerning, but I think the increased guard you offered to fund will help everyone feel safe." The bard smiled. "I know a number of the guards, and certainly they are glad of the bonus. Both in pay and in support. They had feared they might be in for another time like that summer when they had to deal with that fleet of shipwrecked maurauders, but their tone changed overnight."