Shamir was glad Garuda was asking him a question, and said, "Acity? The one with the advanced magitech? Cool; I am proud to meet you. Anyway, you wish to know about why I call myself usurped, yes, Mr. Pacifier?" He would then clear his throat, sit back on his stool again, and sigh before saying:

"Well, my father, Sultan Al-Hakam, was a good person. He abolished slavery in the Sultanate of Abazin during his reign, established schools, roads, and hospitals, and basically tried to deal with people as fairly as possible. But despite his kindness, he was not the best politician, and favored idealism over practicality. He was also immensely forgiving." Shamir bowed his head in sadness. "He had several sons with several wives and concubines, and I was the seventh son by the seventh wife, Badoura."

"Badoura supported her husband, my father, in his reforms, but was smarter and more cautious, helping temper his idealism. She also had the spine and steel needed to make the more pragmatic decisions, aka getting rid of those who would oppose the abolition of slavery and the spending of money on the common people. But despire that last part, my mother was a kind woman to those who were destitute, and regularly gave alms to them as well as more practical aid. The other wives and concubines, meanwhile, were less...dutiful, and misused their powers over the Sultan in order to indulge in corruption and nepotism. The most wicked of these people were Asmira, the First Wife of the Sultan, and her son, Rasoul." Resentment filled Shamir at the mention of those names before he paused and continued.

"Rasoul had big ambitions, and surrounded himself with yes-men and ladies who would ply him with wine and flattery. Despite that, he and I used to be friends growing up, until it was evident that he preferred luxury and control more than he liked the common people. And the worst part is that as he grew up, he became more brutal, and also began to challenge Father in major decisions. But not even we - my father, my mother, and me - can anticipate how far he'd go and who exactly would support him." Shamir was flashing back to that night.

A heavy weight came to his voice as he spoke, "Rasoul, or rather, his mother, had been sending agents to approach those who were hit hard by my father's reforms. Old nobles, bankrupt slave merchants, and army captains who wanted increased pay. And of course, the other sons of the Sultan and their bodyguards."

Shamir remembered everything like it was yesterday, "It was night, and my father was busy signing doucuments and paperworks, while my mother was asleep. All of a sudden we heard the clash of swords in the palace gardens; Rasoul had started his coup! Men were running to and fro in the confusion, our loyal guards trying to alert us to the danger yet being cut down by traitors who had been let in by my other brothers, Kassim and Ali when they opened a side gate."

The worst part was yet to come. "My mother, Badoura, managed to reach me with a couple of her own guards; she carried her own scimtar - I didn't know she was able to fight. She then said, 'Shamir, you must escape. Go to Karim while we hold the enemy back!' Karim was a cleaner, a servant of low rank, but one with a reputation of being an ex-spy."

"I moved to do as she said, but then an arrow came through a window and pierced my mother through and through. That was when I ran, ran for the lower levels of my palace with only my sword and the clothes on my back, and reached Karim, who was at the palace stables, a heap of murdered traitors to the side. The old man then smiled; I still remember his gap-toothed mouth, and told me that he had reserved the fastest camel in the stables for me. And so he handed me the reins to said camel, and I drove it as far away from the palace as possible, to the borders of the region. And from there, I had a series of misadventures until I came here to the Arcanum." Shamir finished relating his backstory.

"Anyway, I want to learn healing and protection magic, because I don't want to straight up destroy my kingdom while liberating it. I want to be able to heal entire regiments of troops with a gesture, and protect them and myself with a shield of energy at the same time. Isn't that a worthy goal, Mr. Pacifier?" A final pause now.

@Conscripts

---

As the day slowly inched onward and the afternoon had slowly made it's way into the Library's atmosphere, some students began to notice that they were being watched by smooth black birds that found their way to each and every one of them. Those hidden behind closed doors found them cryptically opening to reveal these small birds hopping in before the doors closed again even in the most private of quarters. Upon further inspection, it would be noticed that these were Ravens made out of folded parchment. Their behaviors were just as the real thing, twitching their heads sharply side to side to get a good look at their subjects, even making light coos that simulated the real thing. After more than a few moments of observation between them and their subjects, they suddenly started to flap their wings eccentrically and let out an enormously loud "CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW." This noise was incredibly sharp, and split even the most intense conversations into silence. They all then hopped in place for a moment before opening their beaks in the student's general direction.

"Attention all students. To celebrate the arrival of the new year, our Master Chef Piero has begun to prepare a magnificent feast in your honor. Some of you may have already begun to notice the smells drifting into the Library, and are likely very hungry by now.
Please, report to the eating hall at your earliest convenience to partake in the feast, you may eat your fill and beverages will be ordered as desired. Tomorrow the first years will be assigned their masters that will be required to report on their progress as the year goes on, so eat your fill, have your fun. Tomorrow starts your true lessons in the arcane. Ta-ta for now." The Raven then closed their mouths, and after a few moments of slight cooing burst into small strips of scrap paper. Those in the Library soon found themselves being assaulted by tiny paws with squeaks from otters that noticed the trash on the floors and tables while those in private quarters had nobody to take the scraps out of their rooms. The Feast was a common tradition in the history of the Arcanium, marking the end of the first day of attendance as it went on all night until they had their fill. It filled the hearts with those who anticipated it with joy and merriment, and those with empty stomachs with anticipation.

Soon, the day would turn to night and with it, a new dawn would rise. Marking the beginning of an adventure to come.

@Conscripts@Letter Bee@Legion02@hagroden@Scarescrow@Rune_Alchemist@Too Old 4 This@Squittens@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

---

"..."

'What was it that you desire? A life and destiny to eternally protect everyone else, in spite of everything you have been through.' The thoughts ran through his mind as the Prince of Abazin finished his story.

To be honest, nobody would have doubted if he had chosen the path of becoming a warrior, seeking for vengeance on those harbingers of astrocities upon his family and friends. And yet...And yet, he had denied the path of hate, and embraced the light side of destiny. Garuda could sense it. He could read his words, see it, feel it, words that could only be technically heard. His words were almost certainly genuine, and harbored little falseness in it.

"Such is fate...it is cruel." He began. "It has spoken to your nation in words crueler than mine. And you weren't even spared. And yet you chose differently...You must have heart, my friend."

Such desires and ambitions could not be overlooked.

"And yes, to answer your question specifically, it is more than pure worthiness. It is divine. A goal that I wouldn't think someone of your circumstances would choose, nor myself would choose if put in your shoes."

Garuda realized that he was a little bit carried away by his manners. The way raised by the nobles of Acity.

"Anyway, consider me as your friend now. We might not walk on the same path, but I can lend assistance whenever I can."

It was at that moment that the announcement of the feast came in from the crow, in a rather...very rude manner.

"If you have time." Garuda gestured Shamir if he would like to come to the feast or not. He wasn't exactly hungry, but considering that he had battled just a few moments before, he required something that could refill his huge reservoir of energy.

@Letter Bee

Shamir nodded at the lyrical man and said, "I do; I do have the time. And...thanks; I can still fight if need be, but the world needs both fighters and builders." His face lit up with a smile once more as he got up. "So, what are your favorite foods? Mine is couscous, pita bread, chicken, and beef. I don't eat pork; pigs are an invasive species that compete with poor people for food and ruin delicate soils, as well as ruin precious crops. But it might be different in your country, I suppose."

"Oh, and Manakeesh*!" He continued as he walked. "Manakeesh is great. I hope that this chef knows how to make it; I miss it a lot. Anyway, thanks, Mr. Pacifier; you are a good person." Shamir hoped he really wasn't being a chatterbox.

*en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manakish

@Conscripts

Oh, this girl was fancy indeed. That was something he'd expect of a high elf, though, to be perfectly frank. For a moment, Garanin wondered where her Tiefling bodyguard was, before figuring that it was probably good he hadn't witnessed that exchange. Awkward at best, really.

"Aye, you have my apahlogies lass, that was'nae something I was expectin' to see, so my wits, few as they are, took off in search of somewhere they'd be useful, I reckon." Giving a small chuckle at his self-deprecating joke, Garanin let his head follow the elf's body as she moved to the side, giving him a view into her room. She certainly did have quite a few personal effects with her. It struck Garanin as a bit odd that somebody would bring so much to what was essentially just a boarding school, but it didn't mean much to him.

"Ah, that does look like quite the collection of....stuff....yew've got there." His posture changed a bit to reflect a bit of curiosity at that moment, but it changed quickly when this elf, Isilfarrel Mornelis, introduced herself.

Instinctively giving a half-bow, Garanin looked up into her face a gave a smile. "Ah'm called Garanin Stonehewer! And, ah, yes, I am a styudent here, though I admit I'm quite a bit late to the lessons it seems. Only discovered ah had the Gift quite recently, actually. Had to do the Stonehewers proud and make meself into a fine Dwarven enchanter!" If he had any reservations about his destiny, Garanin didn't show them. He was just glad to be of service.

"Well, I think ah've done embarrassed yew enough, Miss Morneless, ah ought to be gettin' to my room before it's time fer chow!" Giving a quick wave and an appraising nod, Garanin turned and started to make his way down the hall. He wanted to check his room before it got to be too late.

@Rune_Alchemist

---

"A-ah, yes, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Garanin. Good luck in your studies and if you need any help with anything, I would be happy to lend my assistance!" She called after the dwarf. Well, no, she probably wouldn't like being in his presence any longer than she needed too. From his entire mannerisms he was completely crude and had zero class whatsoever. Still, that was no reason to publicly pick a fight, at any rate. Such a thing would only harm herself more than anything, and she had a reputation and schedule to keep.

Isil turned back to her room, closing the door and locking it behind her. Ugh! That vermin of a bird exploded into scraps of paper. Bah! What an inefficient and absolutely stupid way of doing something! Not only did she have to organize everything she also now had to clean up this mess! The staff of this school was starting to look less and less competent by the second! She almost felt like storming into the headmistress' office and letting Kyvir have a crack at her.

But no, no, that wouldn't do. Reputation was everything. Her reputation was everything. She couldn't act brashly. The elf took a deep breath, and started going about unpacking and making sure everything was in place. Clothes in the closet behind the bookshelves, books on the bookshelves, the rare seeds from the her home for now, sat upon the desk along with a few blank journals and writing utensils. The space under the bed was also used for storage of various miscellaneous items.

It took her some time, but finally, she managed to organize everything in an appropriate manner.

"Ugh, should have ordered Kyvir to move everything while I sat on the bed and munched on some grapes or something." The Elf sighed, stretching her arms. The thought brought a small smile to her face, though it was quickly replaced by her cheeks going a bit red from a sudden stomach growl.

"-Ah." Well, at least no one was around to hear that. "Well, hopefully I'm not too late." Taking her staff with her, the elf headed for the cafeteria for hopefully something decently prepared to eat.

---

---

He couldn't find it. How could he not find that one room!? Was it hidden? Was there any!? With every read plaque, Alexander felt a little more defeated. Maybe the teacher was yet to arrive? But he couldn't wait. He needed his focus today! He would need it tomorrow in his first courses. How else was he going to excel over the others? They were all talented so he had to do something. But no, he could not find the enchantment master. Which meant that he either did it on his own, or waited. Rather defeated he sat down on the floor, against the wall, holding the wizard tools book before him. Well nothing could stop him from reading it. And really, what damage would it do? So he opened it and started reading. Right there and then. The reading went a little slower than usual. He had only learned it a few years back and the book was filled with rather complex words. Still, slowly but surely he started understanding certain things. Diligently he wrote down runes, glyphs and instructions on potential enchantments in his spellbook. After a while the notes were accompanied by crude drawings of initial ideas. What enchantments would he all need? And how would he fuel them. Runes looked like perfect active spell holders. Capable of being activated once magic was channeled through. While the elves figured out gems were rather useful to store a magic reserve. Thus letting passive spells be woven into something as simple as a book. Or that was the basic grasps Alexander got from the book.

Of course, then a strange little bird appeared out of no-where. So far Alexander had remained undisturbed. But the little thing was pecking for his attention. So when he looked up, the announcement echoed through the hall. Only one bird had to make its way into the hall here. After it did its job, the little thing exploded into fragments, scaring Alexander. Why would a creation, even such a simple construct, want to destroy itself!? Wasn't it a lot easier to just return to the sender to be re-used? Or couldn't these kind of constructs be re-used? Alexander decided not to pretend he knew, so he couldn't really judge. Either way, he couldn't leave the pieces of paper on the floor. It was a horrible mess! But the pieces were so thin and small. Gathering them by hand would takes ages! Approaching the group of paper pieces, he thought of something. "Dust to dust, I guess." he quietly told himself. Uttering a short, strange word he released the tiny heatwave. His intention was clear, turn the paper into small embers and then to ash. Wish could vanish easier into small corners. But there were no embers. There were flames. What was supposed to be small embers ignited into flames. Burning the paper in an instant. But in the process also burning Alexander. Who pulled back his hand just a second too late. The palm of his hand was singed. It wouldn't hurt too much and didn't really warrant any attention. But Alexander did let out a heavy sigh. It happened again.

Alas, he couldn't just sit around here. The young boy gathered his books and made way for the cafeteria. Upon entering, a myriad of smells hit Alexander. He was no stranger to good meals. After every battle, the cooks of the mercenary group of his father always prepared a feast for the officers. While the normal soldiers cooked their increased rations of meat. But those recipes were base. Delicious but basic and easy. The smells here and now were complex. Fresh bread, berry-sauce and honeyed steak were but a few examples of the delicious food ready for the students. The young prince was utterly enthralled by both the incredible smell and the unbelievable display. So enthralled, that he bumped into an elven girl. "Oh damn it again." he muttered to himself. Realizing that was the second time today. "I'm sorry." he said, only then realizing he had dropped his book, revealing the title. As well as his own spellbook, showing various gems the elven used to store their magic, with their certain properties he thought he had read in the first book.

The night air was cold, the streets empty and quiet all except for a small cry or whimper from a nearby alley. Through the darkness of the small pathway tucked in between two stone buildings where three people. Two lumbering figures with brown rotting clothes and crocked broken smiles had cornered a smaller figure dressed in brighter better kept clothing and strawberry blonde hair in the corner of the alley. A small shimmer of a metal blade blinked in the moon light, while the one figure with the knife kept the small figure quite the other rummaged through a pack that clearly was not his. The smaller figure pushed the other off, the moon light revealing her elven face. But the moon light also revealed the faces of the two humans who were able to push the girl back in the corner.

Yet they were interrupted the male rummaging through the girls things turned to see another figure behind them, effectively cutting off their escape. At first the two thought it was some passerby wanting to stop them, “Oi, this business don’t concern the likes of you rat, be on yer way before we run ya through” the threat didn’t make this person move. Slowly the two stopped what they were doing and faced this new threat, the girl was quietly crying curled up on the ground behind them. It was only when it was too late did they notice the blade in the mysterious figures hand, it looked like a very well-made long sword with one key difference. This blade was green and in an instant the man was suddenly in front of them.

The two were dispatched with one swing, the girl slowly stood still shaky and stepped up to embrace her savior, “thank you for saving me” was all she could think to say while starring up at the figure before her. “Why are you thanking me?” the first and only words the girl would hear, the figure pulled back his hood and smiled at her. The elf knew, she could tell what this man was. Dark tattoos that crossed over him and sharp animal like fangs that glinted in the moon light. Dark Elf. She screamed but it was cut short.

The man seemed relived and happy that he was able to satisfy his blood lust and acquire a few new bottles of blood before going to this wretched school. Yet he couldn’t help but notice when he looked around at his surroundings, the girl’s bag. Inside the leather pack were many books on potion making and enchanting as well as a few herbs he recognized where used for potion making, Along with other personal items was a list of items. Some he knew others he did not and at the bottom of the list was a small note, “Sarah please retrieve these items for me” it was signed by someone but the name was smudged with blood, and he couldn’t make out the name, but he could clearly make out the last part, the persons title or job, “The Grand Arcanium, Alchemy Master.”

Some would call it a set back where others would call it an opportunity. Checking once more to be sure he was leaving little to no trace of himself he left the alley yet, once again he found himself staring up at the tower that is his current objective. He glanced back down the alley only for a moment before moving on.

The next day

The entrance to this place was littered with people sleeping out front in what looked to him as a grand court yard. These things that were sleeping didn’t even have a fire watch, if he were in command of one of their strike groups he would be sure to execute them quickly and quietly then they would search the bodies for Intel or other unique items. But alas he was not commanding a strike group and would have to find a spot among the others to meditate. At least his ring was a good investment only needing to meditate for a few hours to be fully rested was very useful. So the Dark Elf found a spot he knew would be in the shade when the sun rose and was out of the way from being noticed by the others.

His instincts proved correct as the sun rose, and he was safely in the shade, his cloak helping him keep the bright light from bothering him too much. Then came the thunder and wait to enter was over, still, he kept his distance from the others watching listening waiting for the rest of the group to enter before he followed. Still, he kept quiet as he followed keeping an eye on the chaotic way the building was set up, where others would see beautiful structures all he could see was a mess and a place that made no sense. The Dark Elf continued on the tour being sure to pick up on any tidbits of information the others shared amongst themselves. This cast of characters was certainly going to be fun to mess with, he could already hear some things about possible sensitive subjects.

The cast of lesser here was quite diverse, aside from the usual amount of humans. He could hear a few people talk of royalty and something about taking back their thrones. Another was a high elf and a tiefling, disgusting creatures the both of them. They seemed to be friends or maybe she was his employer of some kind. There seemed to also be a gnome running about, such strange insects the lot of them. Then he spotted another larger and louder insect. The dwarf, such crude creatures. None of the other human children interested him and neither did the fight towards the end of the tour, what kind of fight or dual didn’t end in someone’s death. This place and its rules would take some time to adjust too.

Slowly he disconnected himself from the others walking toward his new room. The hallway for said rooms was long yet simple. The doors were finely crafted and the names of the occupant glowed on the door. Eventually he found a door with his name on it, the door and frame were crafted from a Grey ash wood and the handle looked as if a black snake had wrapped itself around the handle. He opened the door to reveal a very simple room, small but the table chair and bed inside looked to be of fine quality.

He was only really there to find his room and once he did he began to explore the grand library once more. This place seemed to employ otters of all creatures to aid in book keeping. Personally he preferred the spiders of the dark temple, their dangerous beauty reflected that of the Dark Elves allowed to be in the temple. That and they kept the unwanted bugs at bay while being able to capture unwanted persons with their webs. Still, the elf brushed past a few of the otters receiving angry squeaks as he cut them off or brushed past them. He didn’t care as far as he was concerned they were simply edible vermin.

He had been exploring for some time when he noticed a small crow next to him, how odd that this place would employ so many creatures. It was all he was able to think to himself before it cawed rather loudly and repeated something about a feast before exploding. He rather enjoyed the last part of the message and decided that he could commit the rest of this building to memory at a later date. And so the Dark Elf walked back down the long winding halls and book shelves till he finally arrived back at the mess hall.

Such a strange feeling, Never in his life had he been caught off guard like this, he was expecting some simple food especially for some of these lowly members who would barely deserve to eat at all. But this was something else, rich flavors and deep complex smells. All these new things seemed to force the elf to pull the hood of his cloak back revealing his face to the others. He was indeed beautiful for an elf, purple tattoos circled around his face and his piercing purple eyes darted around the cafeteria. He held himself with an air of superiority and purpose that far outweighed anything else. The elf also pulled his cloak back around him to both cover his bag but also expose the fine light leather armor he wore underneath.

Resting his left hand on the pommel of his sword he moved forward, he didn’t acknowledge any of the others as he moved he simply grabbed a plate of medium rare steak and found a spot near a corner where he could keep his back against the wall. Still, he did not see other Dark elves yet as he ate the steak rather quickly. He would have savored the taste if not for his years of training that told him to eat fast while it was in front of him. After all, there was never a guarantee that he would be able to eat more food later on. Even if he was in his magical place he still kept his guard up continuously looking around at the others as he ate.

@Legion02

---

The elf had no trouble finding her way to the recreation areas and the dining hall. If the smells alone weren't enough to draw one to the dining hall, the students themselves were for the most part friendly. Isil even stopped to chat with a few of them! A couple of humans even asked her input on a both the elvish homeland and restoration magics! Hah, it felt nice to be important and have everyone look up to her again. A feeling she missed, after leaving the isles. Of course, she answered and chatted with them for a minute or so on her way to the dining hall. No sense in being cold or unfriendly.

However, by the time she found her way to the dining hall she found herself making a list, as she normally did. A list of things she had to do. Goals and objectives that she would like to complete. She had plans for this place - and starting with, she needed a good reputation among the students. Easily doable. People were easy enough to convince of ones charitably and virtue. She would see about improving conditions, studies, as well as class budgets and projects.

Of course, she couldn't appear too overly eager for such things. Or perhaps she should? What would be the best approach to -

"Wah-!" Suddenly, she felt herself come to a full stop, stumbling backwards and falling right on her butt, her staff falling to the floor not far away. "Oooow..." She grumbled, rubbing her back. Ugh! Second time that day she had tripped and fell! Well, at least no one was laughing. Gah, whoever this fool was needed to watch where they were going! "Oof, I'm fine." She replied to the human, laughing softly as she stood back up. "That was my fault. I was lost in thought." She reached over, picking up her staff and one of the books he had dropped.

"Ah...?" She glanced briefly over the title of the book. Foci? The other book had some sort of gems laid into it, did it not? Curious. She didn't know who this but perhaps it might be a good idea to get to know him better? "Uhm, forgive me but it seems you might have an interest in making Foci? I'm no expert myself, but I did read a number of books on the topic back in Thien'lotal, perhaps-" Before she continued speaking, her stomach loudly complained again at the delay of being fed. "...perhaps discuss it over dinner, heh?" Her face turned slightly red as she asked, leaning slightly on her own staff.

---

Some time had passed since the Tiefling's reading lesson had ended. They had worked through about five chapters of the book, until he had decided that it was enough for the day. After parting ways with the Human, Kyvir made his way to the dorms, finding his room relatively quickly. Upon opening it, he found it to be a rather small location, dwarfed especially by the size of his bed. His Bed was pressed against the far left wall, and occupied nearly half of his room's total space. Underneath his bed were a set of built in drawers, which already contained his limited amount of clothing. To the right of his bed was a large desk that seemed to barely fit between the wall and his bed, and with it was a sturdy wooden chair. On top of the desk sat a Lamp, along with a Journal and an ink-quill.

Stepping into his room, Kyvir was forced to lower his head and torso to fit through the doorway, and then closed his door behind him. Taking in his room for a moment, his face revealed a smile, something that only occurred behind closed doors. Sitting down in his new chair, Kyvir opened the Journal before him to find it completely empty. With the sound of shredding paper, Kyvir pulled a single page out from the Journal, and grasped the pen uncertainly in his right hand. Reciting the phrase he intended to write, he visualized the characters before scrawling them on to the paper before him, writing "I will not disappoint you, Lady Mornelis." With a smile, he folded the paper into a small square and placed it in a pocket on his belt.

Just as he had put the note away, he heard his the door to his room open, accompanied by the gentle caw of a bird. Turning himself in his Chair, he saw the small bird hop it's way to Kyvir's feet. Gently, Kyvir bent over and lifted the small animal up, only to realize that it wasn't really a bird at all, but rather enchanted parchment. However, it didn't seem to matter if the paper was truly a bird or not, as Kyvir gently petted it with his index finger, smiling as the 'bird' cooed softly. After a few moments, Kyvir set the bird on his shoulder, only to regret so a moment later as the Bird's loud CAW made his ear ring. Looking at the bird in betrayal, Kyvir's eyes widened as the bird spoke, informing him of the evening's feast, then exploded into a few dozen shreds of paper. Shaking his head gently, Kyvir snapped his fingers together and the shreds of paper lit themselves into brilliant flames for a moment, before disappearing entirely. With a gentle sigh, he regained his stoney composure and stood, leaving his door to seek out his Mistress at the feast.


Kyvir had arrived at the dining Hall quickly, having already determined the fastest route from it to the dorms. Once there, he began to search for his Mistress and soon found her holding a book, standing in front of a young, dark-haired man. He quickly made his way over to the two of them, gracefully moving through the crowd without bumping into anyone, despite his goliathen stature. After reaching them, he bowed slightly, greeting his Mistress in his rumbling voice.
"Good Evening, Lady Mornelis."
Facing the man before Isilfarrel, his harsh eyes moved from the man's head to his feet swiftly, before determining that he was not currently a threat to his ward.
"Good evening Sir, I am Kyvir." He stated, introducing himself as his left hand rested on the pommel of his sword.

---

"Indeed they need so. My country needs fighters. And I desired for it...But anyway, I have no restrictions on food, nor do I have any particular interest in specific culinary masterpiece. And besides, I need to recover from my last duel with a boy in the arena, so anything would do."

Garuda then began wandered into the crowd, as he reached for a plate on the pile of plates. Dear God, this place had almost everything in the world in terms of culinary. From the far deserts, to the frozen north, this chef seemed to know everything. What a welcoming committee it was.

"If you want to slake your hunger for your homeland's traditional food, then you can look for it somewhere in here. I'm pretty sure the diversity will ensure its appearance here." He said to Shamir, as he pointed at the food table, whether or not he could hear his words.

@Letter Bee

It wasn't long before Garanin arrived at his own room, opening to door to no resistance. Looking around, he gave an appraising nod at the interior: it wasn't particularly grand, but for a dwarf, it was an alright living space, to be sure. His lack of personal amenities only helped that situation, unlike Isilfarrel. Walking over to the rucksack that contained his earthly possessions, Garanin took stock.

Warhammer, check. Shield, check. Armor, check. History of Dwarven Enchanters, check. Most importantly, coin purse. Check!

And...that was about it. Sure, there were some leftover bits of salt meat and a waterskin, along with a change of clothes, but he'd left most of his more frivolous belongings at home. Surely he'd be able to find a new flask here, and he had enough funds for a small shopping exhibition.

This was the start of a new life, so it was reasonable that he'd only take the things he'd absolutely need here. Everything else was either unnecessary or too cumbersome to stow alongside half a suit of armor.

Speaking of which, Garanin was feeling odd without any bits or pieces of his armor on at the moment. It wasn't like him to go without, but it also wasn't like him to be at the Arcanium, after all. Deciding on a gauntlet and pauldron, Garanin armored his left arm before taking a moment to relax. It was likely the last chance he'd get, after all.

--------------

Awakening to the sound of a deafening 'CAW', Garanin shot up off of his bed and stared down the source of the noise, only to notice a....talking paper bird? That was certainly not a standard application of magic, he thought. It seemed more like a personal flair, like when a smith used a certain style of pommel or included a more decorative sword knot with their works.

What the bird was saying about a feast managed to pique Garanin's interest. He hoped they'd have mead.

--------------

Quickly arriving at the dining hall, Garanin looked around at the others who'd already arrived. Isilfarrel and her bodyguard were present, apparently talking with a human boy who was among the first-years. There were a pair of humans talking as well, though they didn't stand out to him as of yet. Perhaps that was the best place to enter. He didn't fancy meeting Isil's bodyguard, and he also didn't want to remind her of their embarrassing encounter just yet. It wasn't proper form to joke about somebody you'd just met, especially not an elven lady with a bodyguard. Down that path lies only suffering, after all.

Approaching the two young boys with a grin on his face, Garanin gave a greeting. "Heylo there, laddies, it's a pleasure ta meet ya. The name's Garanin Stonehewer. Looks like we'll be learning the arts togither here. And, by the hells, is that rum pudding?! I have'nae had me some a that in nearly a year!" Quickly grabbing a plate and starting to load food onto it, Garanin turned to his chosen companions. "Sorry to interrupt yer conversation, by the by, just figgered it'd be nice to interduce meself to the other styudents 'fore it got to be the end of the year or summat." Flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile at the two, Garanin continued gathering food, focusing heavily on meats and carbs.

A dwarf's gotta keep his figure, don'tcha know?

@Letter Bee @Conscripts

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The Hall leading to the feast was dancing with smells that captivated all that smelled them. The room filled with bodies, all chattering among each other before the doors opened to the dining hall. Many topics were thrown about, some spoke of their studies, others of books that they had read recently, and others still some spoke of themselves. Many Second and Third years had gathered among the first years, old friends and new acquaintances alike cluttered in groups as they spoke. The chatter filled the room with a sensation of merriment, all laughing and sharing stories as they waited only falling silent when the doors opened and the smells came through full force.

The light of the Dining Hall was intense for a brief moment, revealing a massive hall filled wall to wall with tables of foods and drinks broken only by a small plump man dancing in the center of the room as he let out a hearty laugh. As he waved his arms and sang to himself, a massive cake appeared from a small glittering light that circled the place it had now occupied. The tables were crowded with all sorts of dishes that spanned countless cultural favorites. Stuffed pasties, excellently seasoned steaks, large drumsticks of mutton, pastas, cheese fondue, raspberry danishes, carrot and potato stew over rice, cold cut sandwiches and many many more. The man in the center of the room wore a white apron over his robes that was covered in fresh stains, making it clear that he was indeed the Master Chef that the announcement had spoke of. "Come! Come students! The feast is ready! Eat your fill!"

As he spoke the students began to pore in, making their way with their friends to their favorite dishes and filling their plates. Some sat on the floors, some leaned against the walls, others made their way to tables with slight openings between beverages to eat their fill. The chef was not the only one to provide food either it seems, many sweets had small labels in front of them signed "Courtesy of Master Liyva" and a few outlandish delicacies with strange tentacles between bread in what seemed to be soup with a sign saying "Dark Elf Cuizine, Master Taihlier." One dish accredited to Master Taihlier was in the desert section, a purple misty bowl that read "Apple Crumbed Candied Fog" that struck many as somehow likely poisonous. However there was one area that was certainly out of place, a small section decorated with strange dishes in this area of the world. Small soft yet moist balls filled with meats and vegetables labeled "Dumplings" and another dish made up of rice pressed into small shapes next to another odd delicacy of raw fish wrapping rice in seaweed with various kinds of vegetables in the mix. A tall unfamiliar looking woman was pressing the rice into shapes elegantly and merrily.

The woman spoke happily with students that eagerly approached her, but her accent was very unusual. So unusual in fact that no student to meet this woman knew where this accent hailed from. Her skin was pale with a very faint blue glow, complimented by long silver hair and gentle sapphire eyes. A distinct mark was blatant on her forehead, and it drew attention for being rather strange. The last striking trait of this woman was her ears, short yet undoubtedly pointed giving away that she was in fact elven though not any elf that would be recognizable by anyone of these lands.

Across from the woman's station, there was a table entirely dedicated to seafood which naturally was taken control of by a cluster of otters that were making a habit of tapping their mollusk meals against the table instead of using the tools supplied. Others ate raw fish, but ignored the lemon put to the side for accentuated flavor. This upset the Chef as he made his way to the table and voiced his concern that they were not properly eating the dish. The otters just looked at him for a moment and carried on with their snacking. The Chef let out a sigh and fetched himself a goblet of ale from the beverage table.

Prince Shamir blinked at the Dwarf's appearance; Dwarves were rare in his home country, as far as he knew. So he greeted Garanin with a wave and a smile, saying, "Good to meet you, Mr. Stonechewer! I hope we can -"

But Garanin had already begun gathering food before Shamir can continue. Finding a section of the buffet that contained Manakish and Pita Bread, Chicken, Beef, as well as Couscous, Shamir began putting food into plates; this was more lavish than his old family palace! Then, he would go to the 'foriegn' sections of the buffet wheresmall bits of raw fish on rice were, drawn to those by curiosity. He would then, with clean hands, take one of the delicacies and pop it into his mouth, smiling as he tasted the texture of the raw fish treated with vinegar (he can taste the latter) and coldness so that it would not cause disease.

"This is heavenly!" he said, as he put more on a spare plate, then, with a heavy load, went to where Garuda may have ended up sitting, set his burden down, and began eating. He was going to need all the energy he can in order to learn tomorrow...

@Conscripts@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Spirit

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Alexander, despite the many attempts of being well groomed, had to snicker when the elven girl's stomach growled for food. "Yes, dinner." He merely commented, knowing full well that his own stomach might replicate a whale song soon if he didn't eat. The whole hall was filled with absolutely delicacies. From pie to extremely foreign food. Which Alexander couldn't place sometimes. Was it a dessert or a soup? Maybe it was part of the main course? But then the giant thiefling appeared. Despite his size, Alexander never saw him coming.

Lady Mornelis? Alexander looked up a bit surprised. The elf didn't strike him as that special? Or maybe that was the facade. Alas, he was still happy to have a name. Right then Kyvir introduced himself. Alexander did not miss the hand resting on the pommel. "I-I am Alexander." but he then shook his head. He wasn't just Alexander! "I mean, Prince Alexander of Tyrania." His father would demand he said his full title. Enough lives and years were spent acquiring it. "Pleased to meet you, Kyvir." he responded, trying to sound brave before he continued gathering his food with the group.

He went with a few known dishes like pork chops and some potatoes. If he was hungry he could always take some more. So as the group took their seat, Alexander began. "So what's your story?" he asked towards the elf first.

Isil laughed softly as Alexander introduced himself, stuttering slightly at Kyvir’s appearance. Prince? This man was a prince? Well that was…curious, at least. Perhaps she would do good to get on his good side. Having a connection with a human royal was bound to only be a boon in some fashion. For now, though, it was dinner time and she wouldn’t let her stomach get the best of her.

The food in the dinner hall was absolutely delicious looking. So many foreign delicacies and food she wanted to try! The smells alone were enough to want to make her sample each and everything, but she had to exercise a little self-control. Perhaps a bit stereotypical, her plate was filled mostly with and vegetables and fruits, though she let herself take a leg of chicken or two…or three.

“My story?” Isil asked slowly as she took a seat next to Alexander. “Aha, I’m no one special, really. Not as special as a prince anyways.” She gave him a friendly smile. “Just an Elf who wanted to study magic abroad, away from Thien'lotal.”

The Tiefling smirked internally at the boy Prince's attempts at courage, although he made no external sign that he was entertained by Alexander. Bowing deeply, he spoke
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord of Tyrania."

After determining that this man was of little threat to his Mistress, he removed his hand from the pommel of his sword, letting it rest by his side. If this boy was truly a Prince, he would be of great value to Lady Mornelis, if the boy played his cards right, he could gain a few powerful allies in the High-Elf and her Tiefling. However, now was the time for food and celebration, not political strategy.

The Tiefling followed a few steps behind his Mistress, looking over the food carefully. It was not long before he found himself in front of what could only be considered Tiefling delicacies, about three platters of raw, bloody meat. He placed three various cuts of meat on to his own plate, each of them dripping with blood and gristle, with bones potruding from them, filled with marrow. He found himself hard-pressed not to lick his lips as he also placed a few scoops from a bowl of roasted insects on his plate as well. Then, he took his seat next to Isilfarrel, and began to quietly enjoy his meal, taking care not to allow blood or insect bits to drop from his silverware or mouth and cause a mess.

For a half-demon slave eating a plate of raw-meat and insects, he had suprisingly astute table manners.

Alexander was, genuinely, thoroughly, confused by the tiefling. He knew close to nothing of the creatures. So when Kyvir sat down next to the elf with a plate filled with burned insects and raw meat, he was more than just a little put off. In fact, he looked at the pile on the plate and then around him, trying to see if that was supposed to be a thing. Though as the creature started to eat with surprisingly well manners, Alexander assumed it was part of their natural diet. Though a bit ashamed he started eating himself a bit. As a mirror image of Kyvir, Alexander lacked certain table manners as he sometimes used his hands to scoop up all the food on his fork. Making his claim of prince-ship weaker with every move.

"No great story here really. Well, not mine anyway." Alexander admitted. "You must be brave. I haven't seen many High Elves around. A book I once read said they prefer to stick together in their own lands. So coming here, that must have taken a lot from you." he really did admire Isil for it. But he then turned towards Kyvir. "So... what about you? How did you end up at the Grand Arcanium? Did your friend convince you?"

Kyvir watched the boy eat like a child for a moment, and his fist clenching below the table, although his face did not betray him, everything appeared to be going well. This child claims to be a superior of Isilfarrel, despite the blatant weakness he portrays? He unclenched his fist and resumed eating, as if nothing had happened, and listened to Alexander's compliments of his Mistress.

After a moment however, Alexander had turned a question to Kyvir, and Kyvir lowered his fork to his plate, looking Alexander directly in the eye. Clearing his throat for a moment, he saw a perfect chance to averty scrutiny from his Mistress and in his deep, harsh voice spoke dutily.
"Lady Mornelis is my Ward, and I am sworn by the Gods and men to be her Guard, Strategist, and Assistant in matters both Personal and Political. My attendence here serves to fufill my responsibility, while allowing me to improve my current abilities."

Finished with his Answer, he turned back to his meal, Uninterested in his response, nor further questions. He continued to politely eat his fill, pausing occasionally to sip a fragrant drink of made up of Oil, Sulphur, and Firewater.

“Aha…don’t mind him too much.” Isil laughed quietly. “Well, as he says he is my ward but it only happened out of circumstance on the way here from the Isles. I had to travel through a country called Thay. Heard of it? I…was sorely unprepared for traveling through that. Kyvir and I sort of…ran into each other and after a small little misadventure we ended up traveling together.” Nothing was a complete lie, though it was far from the actual truth of the matter. “He’s not the most sociable sort, though his company is still welcome.” She took a bite of an apple as she waited for Alexander to respond.

Alexander wasn't a fool. He had gotten crash courses in the arts of the court. The Tiefling's story sounded a lot more subservient than what Isil was saying. Pondering upon the words for a moment, he took another bite of his steak. Which tasted absolutely sublime with every piece. Alas, he couldn't really think of a reason why they spoke in such different ways. Nor, he thought, that it would matter. That and there were other things to care for right now. "So... enchanting?" he uttered carefully. "You mentioned you read some books back at..." and then he realized he forgot the name of her home city. Take another moment of silence in an attempt to guess it, he eventually yielded. "I mean back home." All elven places sounded way too complex to remember anyway, he defended in his own mind. "I would love your advice! Maybe we could meet up tomorrow? After the courses?" he suggested, hoping the elf wasn't too offended.

The truth, however, was that Alexander didn't really care to remember the name. The High Elves weren't close to his home and there were more important names to remember. Should anyone ask him after the rivers, mountains or cities of Tyrania, he'd be able to name them without a map. Should someone ask about his kingdom's neighbors he'd accurately explain the economic and political situation of each land. But the High Elves were not his neighbors and were not his allies. So he wasn't expected to know them. He was only expected to know prey, targets. Alexander was, after all, a Warlord's son.

“Thien'lotal. Specifically, the City of Living Summer, Bistrial.” She laughed softly. It was no surprise that he had trouble with Elvish names. Most humans she met did. It was rather endearing, really. In a ‘cute lesser ability sort of way’. “But yes! I would be more than happy to assist you. I would be remiss not to offer my help if I am able to.” If he was willing to learn and made decent progress of course. She had no time to waste time on failure or those who didn’t give their absolute best in something. That and, well, she was curious as to who exactly this prince was. She’d need to do a little research before she met up with him tomorrow.

Ask a few of the students. It’d be easy enough to innocently ask about it, passing it off as wanting to learn more about the human realms.

Alexander's face was filled with gratitude. Back home, there were but few mages left over. Most had sided with the loyalist. Sure, they were fearsome, living weapons. But his father had no problem in utilizing rather obscure tactics. The New Moon Massacre was one of those infamous moments. When his men snuck into the mages tower at night and murdered them all at night. While effective, they left very few tutors for Alexander. Those that survived had little desire to teach the conqueror’s son. So they often chose exile over servitude. Sure, during the conquest books were send back. But Alexander knew a tutor would have gotten him a lot further. "Thank you!" he exclaimed. "You won't regret it! If there is every anything I can do to help you with something, just say it. I'm in your debt."

But obviously, now other things popped up. Namely the mysterious teacher. She didn't look like she came from around. Alexander had been curious the second he saw her. However, he had a obligation of politeness to first talk with the High Elf. Having now secured a potential tutor, he it was time to move. Some would use the feast to relax, unwind and enjoy an evening. Not a Warlord's Son. Even during such festivities, he had to move further and learn more. Even if it just meant getting to know people. "If you would excuse me. I have to refill my plate." he excused himself from the table and walked up towards the Far Eastern teacher, making her raw fish dishes.

The Tiefling's eyes followed the Boy Prince suspiciously as he excused himself, and watched him carefully, as he made his way towards a particular teacher. After the boy was a fair distance away, Kyvir looked at his Mistress from the corner of his eyes and stealthily removed the note he had stashed away in his waistband,placing it on their shared table directly in front of her.

"The Warlord's Son smells of Guina," He stated softly, his True Tongue harsh and guttural, as that was how it was spoken in Thay.

"He would be of us."
He finished, his observations of the Prince expressed. Looking back to his plate, he continued to eat politely,waiting for his Mistress to read the note.

Isil watched Alexander leave with a small smile, turning back to her own plate and picking up one of the pieces of chicken as he left. For a few seconds, she simply silently chewed on the meat, lost in thought as Kyvir spoke and placed a note between them. She reached over, curious as to what the note could be before realizing what it said and laughed lightly.

“I will not disappoint you Lady Mornelis”

“That remains to be seen.” She spoke lowly, a small smirk forming as she drew in a deep and exhaling slowly. “But it’s a good start. Tomorrow we shall pay Alexander a visit and…discuss things with him. I’ll ask around about this prince and his country this evening.” She cast a glance over to Kyvir before taking a lighter tone and laughing. “Aha, this food really is good. How do you like the food, then, Kyvir? I must confess I am not knowledgeable about Teifling cuisine. I tend to stick with vegetables and…chicken, heh.”

It seemed that was the end of that discussion, for now.

It had been a few hours after the Tieflings had left, leaving Isabel alone in her corner. Her eyes focused on a sketch of something. The painting was ugly, unable to show any notable. But for her, it was good enough for a six years old kid.
“Soon, we will be free. "

Lifting her head up from the notebook, Isabel saw a bird-like enchanted object looking at her. It looks very similar to a real bird, with black feathers and yellow beak. Even the way it moves is similar to a real bird. But there was something fake that Isabel could not only tell, maybe because it looks too real to be real. Suddenly, human words came out from that bird beak, before exploding into million pieces. Although it is only an enchanted parchment, the power of the teachers still interested Isabel. Isabel stared at what was left of the bird or the enchanted parchment before started to pack up her stuff. In her mind, she planned for this is going to be nothing more than a quick 15-minute trip.

Isabel quickly finished her meal. She did not notice how beautiful the place was, how tasty the food was, the topics of the students around her discussing with each other. She was the first to leave that place. The sound of someone calling her as “weirdo” can be heard as she walked out of that place. For Isabel, that place was nothing more than a place of hell. The image of people talks just because of the sake of talking sickening her. And all of those smile that others are carrying on their face disgusted her. They were ignorant like those peasants. They spent their time doing useless work while there are almost an unlimited amounts of knowledge waiting for them to discover. They have talent and they chose to speak rather than study. It is their fate that their name will be forgotten, washed away in the river of time. But not all, and definitely not Isabel.

Walking down the hallway, Isabel quickly got into her room and cleaned all her stuff on the ground. Suddenly, some odd noise can be heard. But being a person that never want to deal with other problems, Isabel ignored the strange noise that seems to come from the wall. Turning the pages in her notebook, Isabel smiled. But there was something different about her. Something unknown yet dangerous.
“Now, shall we get started then.”

The Dark Elf had finished his meal rather quickly, leaning back in his chair he kept looking around at the others. He was quite able to pick up on the conversations of the others, just one more skill he was trained to possess. The hushed tones of some and random insults of others were things he cared little for. Yet, the conversation that was being held at the buffet did acquire his interest. A human, a tiefling, and the high elf seemed to be chatting it up amongst one another.

His purple eyes didn’t dare look their way lest they become weary in their speech, he simply remained alert to his surroundings while he concentrated on listening in. the human was apparently a prince named Alexander of Tyrania, he recognized the name of the country. A small one, recently a coup had occurred by the boy’s father if he was correct in his memory. The tiefling didn’t seem to be impressed by this boy, something the both of them could agree on. This tiefling seemed more warrior than mage like the fat insect piling food onto his plate across the room.

The tiefling was also armed by what he could only assume was a crude blade. He averted his gaze but not his attention as the trio moved to a table not too far from him. Again they continued their talk with the boy’s table manners seemingly lacking compared to the other two, a strange sight indeed. Now it seemed that the tiefling was explaining his reasons for being here. The oath was believable sure but the way he spoke seemed off, rehearsed almost with a strict way of saying ‘if I say this wrong I will be punished’ strange. Then the elf spoke, Lady Mornelis of Bistrial, a rather high population High Elf city known for their wards against dark magic. He even knew the layout of that city, it is a high priority target within certain sects of the dark temple and all operatives are to have this city as well as a few others memorized in the event of open conflict.

The last part of what the elf said caught his attention, “Thay? So the tiefling is a slave then or was to be in that country, more like a lawless wasteland.” He thought. Yet it seemed like their conversation was winding down as the boy seemed to inquire about having the elf be his tutor, through a simple agreement the boy left their company. The tiefling had one more parting insult once the boy was far enough away and their conversation seemed to dwindle down to small talk. Yet another form of meaningless talk.

Still, he seemed bored with this place. The others talked of nothing interesting or important and the place was a bit too cheery for his taste. “Perhaps a trick would lighten up my mood?” he thought to himself. Slowly he brought his right hand up to him and off the table swirling the air ever so slightly with his hand, before long streaks of dark magic trailed behind his hand before he simply whispered to the magic, “Fetch me some of that Dark Elf wine they have” he stopped swirling his hand. The dark streaks twirled there for a moment before moving through the air toward the table with the Dark Elf food. Moving like black wisp’s through the air with a subtle whisper.

While these streaks were moving and dancing through the air another streaked from his other hand across the floor. This thin dark line snaked its way from shadow to shadow staying under the feet of those passing by and ultimately staying out of the tiefling’s gaze as it crept towards the High Elf. The other multiple wisps found their mark and circled around a dark chalice that held a viscous liquid with a purple smoke pouring over its edges only to dissipate just before the bottom of the cup. As the other wisp’s danced around the cup before twirling under it and lifting it back towards Vale. The other line finally reached the elf, slowly the dark energy crept into the wood of her chair and corrupted the wood of the back legs. This action effectively made it so any movement of the chair would break the back legs sending the chair and its occupant to the ground.

The Chalice slowly made its way to his table, showing great control the cup never split what it held as it made its way across the dining hall. When it arrived Vale let it sit for a moment, the dark energy that retrieved it seemed to be absorbed into the wine itself. This wine was quite special only Dark Elves and those who could wield dark magic could drink it. For others, it would simply be poisonous. The wine was enchanted with dark magic to keep its flavor and as one where to sip it, it would sip some drinker’s dark magic as well. Its taste wasn’t sweet or bitter, it tasted of a flavor that could only be summarized by emotion as it overwhelmed the senses so much so that the taste was forgotten, and this one specifically tasted of sorrow.

The Elf would stay there for a little while longer sipping on his drink before sighing and standing. Again his left hand rested on the pommel of his sword as he brushed and passed by the others. He would not apologize or even acknowledge the fact that he may have pushed another out of his way as he walked out of the hall. He did glance back one more time at the others in the hall and bared his teeth toward them, again a look of disgust. The Elf found himself returning to his task at hand, mapping out the remaining pathways of this chaotic structure and then begin studying about the magic he was sent here to learn, he didn’t care for a curfew. What did they expect him to do, wait around in his quarters while the others slept? This thought didn’t return to his mind again as he continued down the endless corridors of the library.

@Rune_Alchemist@hagroden@Legion02

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"Greeti-"

Just as Garuda was greeting the seemingly a lot older dwarf, the guy suddenly decided to ignore Garuda's words, as he delved into the food. Well, that wasn't very polite of him...although he appeared to be a nice guy. Well, no matter. His worth would all be measured by the power on the battlefield. And sooner or later, Garuda would knew it.

"Well, I've finished my meal. It's a shame that I will be able to miss the rest of this chef's culinary masterpiece, but in order to keep up with my shape and power, I must not exert too much myself."

Garuda turned to stand up from his seat.

"Now if you'd excuse me, I will be heading out for a physical training. It is your right whether to follow me or not. And if you do, I will be at the dueling area."

People usually would not use it for anything aside from dueling, but for the sake of combat training, it is a perfect place for a test of strength...

@Letter Bee @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

"Thanks," Shamir spoke to Garuda. "As for me, I think I am going to sleep, as I am full. But if you want a healer nearby, I can stay with you for a while -" But Garuda was already going.

Shamir smiled, before going off to to his room to clean his teeth, bathe, and then sleep and rest. It was a long day tomorrow.

A yawn as he reached his quarters, and a few last sentences, "I am tired. I hope you are proud of me in heaven, Mother and Father."

@Conscripts@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Spirit

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The next morning was relatively quiet. Many students had been at the feast late into the night and so the hall was absent of any bodies. Sunlight crept through certain points of the ceiling that had strategically placed skylights so that the morning sun light the hall, as the dorms on the left and the right of the length of the hall didn't allow for windows. Nothing stirred in the warmth of the fall air, and as the scene settled and only dust moved in the glow of the morning faint pattering could be heard in the distance. A small paper Raven, similar to the ones from before, entered the scene of the student's hall. Soon, many more pattering steps could be heard following but this time, the Ravens did not move with a sense of urgency.

They made their ways to the individual first year student's doors, identified by their door handles and their name tags, and with two short pecks the door silently moved open to allow them inside. Typically the door would only open for certain people, but as messengers of the Headmistress herself these little paper fowl were allowed entry as they pleased. Some didn't feel the need to enter however, and insisted on pecking the door repeatedly to deliver their message. The ones that did choose to enter however, made their way onto the student's beds and looked at their message recipients. They flicked their heads side to side, observing the slumbering students until abruptly beginning to peck them in the cheek annoyingly.

When the students finally awoke and received their messages individually, they did not explode into confetti this time, but rather unfolded themselves into a parchment that read "Mentor Assignments". The Parchment read as follows,

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The birds stayed in this form, the enchantment dissipating as it's job had been done. The smell of breakfast filled the air soon enough, and the day was about to begin. The Great School of the Arcanium was finally turning it's gears, and the new year was soon to begin...