What struck him was not the scenery, but rather, the distance.

This had to be months worth of travel away by conventional means if it was far enough to reach the coastline. The sheer amount of power that it must take to create a portal like this was heavy, and that didn’t even account for the fact that the portal was a one-way trip. Wingram Academy, an artificial nexus of leylines, could provide enough power for such a movement, yes, but if his understanding of geography was correct, this was now in the realm of Vaal Kastrix, which had much lower ambient essence to be making that same portal back. Did the Principal have an Ethos that enabled such movements, or was it simply a testament to her power?

It was a curious thing, and that wasn’t even taking into account the relationship she had between herself, the Bronsteel duplicate, and this decrepit gnome. He could infer that the Bronsteel duplicate was a result of the gnome’s work or that the gnome was responsible for their maintenance at least, but to what extent that went, Otis was still uncertain. A prolonged investigation then. Through his Adapa, the Strigidae remotely controlled his construct, allowing it to wheel inside the gnome’s residence, before slipping underneath the sofas that Raja sat upon. There was a soft click as its wheels retracted into its own form, rendering it to just a stationary, brass ball, and from there it laid, the Seeker essence fading away while its audio-visual transmissions spell continued to consume atmospheric essence.

With another few adjustments, Otis set his grimoire to record the transmissions for later review, before closing the book entirely. Such a fascinating little discovery, and at mere chance at that! He had to speak with the gnome some time soon. There was a mystery to untangle here, and while Otis was certain he could’ve gotten something substantial simply out of interrogating Gulliver himself, testimonies could lie while evidence did not. What a grand place Wingram Academy was! What a grand collaboration already, rife with backroom dealings!

…

And then there was the Iris Record, the Ascendis Dormitory.

Two guards, dressed in black for intimidation and professionalism. He mirrored the stance shift of the orc woman, his amber gaze bouncing between the two of them. So this was where faculty lived, where particular students earned the right to reside in.

“There’s already students registered here? Who? I’d imagine the Leuvalt person, considering his background, and maybe Bronsteel, because of his part-time job, but is that all? What’s the condition for getting that sort of approval to begin with, considering how no examinations outside of a single impromptu entrance exam had occurred? And you’ve mentioned that this serves as a residence for two types of people, but what’s this about a proving ground?” Questions flowed easily, a stream with neither source nor destination. Or perhaps it was more like a tap from which water fell, capable of stopping on a whim. “I’m here because this tower is the tallest building in Wingram Academy, and I would like access to the very top. Who do I speak to for this?”

Wingram Academy, Girls' Dorm
@Nanaya @Psyker Landshark @Sifr

---

She stared at the word written on the scroll as her inner world lay bare. Disturbingly bare.

She could pretend she was calm, collected, and acting out of pure intentions to her fellow classmates who fought alongside her. But alas.

Dark laughter echoed in her mind. "It's true. We want them. If we had it our way, there would be no discussion, just silence, and sated Hunger."

"You know we can't do that." She thought.

"But you want to, don't you?"

She was silent at that, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks and the uneasy pit in her stomach. She wasn't used to having her inner thoughts... exposed like this. She was used to having everything perfectly controlled behind a mask of indifference, or even kindness.

The Head Advisor pointed to the list with her emotion on it, along with other written words, presumably from Iraleth and Hildegunde. "You will need to convince me that it would be a wise choice to make."

Ciara's eyes tightened. Was it a wise choice...? Could she be honest with herself and say she wouldn't get tempted in the middle of the night to attack them when they would be at their most vulnerable?

The Voices merely laughed again, knowing how sick and tired she was of 'buttered toast,' the plants she had packed with her.

"And do tell me how the words on this scroll might perhaps alter your plans, if at all?"

Her eyes closed, trying to come up with something, anything, to make her appear more innocent, to make this seem like the right choice. And how would she explain her selfishness..?

That's when she remembered one critical detail.

She actually owed the two her life.

Back in the auditorium, when time was ticking down, and the great giant was unleashed, Iraleth took the brunt of the attack, allowing Ciara to move across the battlefield unhindered and unharmed. Ciara knew even one strike of the golem, if it had locked its mechanical eyes on her, would have finished Ciara right there and then. They might not have won, then.

When she was bogged down by Mannekin, and took the lightning meant for Iraleth, severely delayed so much that Gulliver might have gotten the upper hand and squashed them, Hildegunde saved her. She blasted out the remaining lights, along with Otis' fateful bullet, that ultimately drowned the auditorium in the darkness she needed to eradicate the Mannekin for good. Without Hildegunde's intervention, the Mannekin could have overwhelmed any one of them, and they would have never turned the tides of the battle.

"Head Advisor," she started, her tone quiet, yet purposeful, "I won't be able to sleep unless I am with the ones I fought alongside with. There's no one else I trust, so I am acting out of a selfish desire to protect myself."

Before he could make another incision, "My apologies; due to the lack of occupants around the area, I assumed this place would be fitting for practice." Emelie seemed so absorbed in her video-watching that Chunji assumed she wouldn't have noticed. Unfortunately, she did. Chunji didn't feel guilty for his actions, seeing that the one in pain was himself.

"You are correct on the former. This is my first time casting Heal." Looking at his hand, he was quite impressed by it. Usually, when he practiced new spells, his hand would become disabled or be inflicted with more lacerations. Heal was an impressive spell. "Though you are wrong about the latter. I've been practicing the arts of healing for at most eight years." It wasn't his first, nor would it be his last time healing this way.

His eyes narrowed at Emelie's statement, and Chunji looked genuinely perplexed. "Why? Aren't animals and humans both living beings? Is there any difference between performing healing on an animal in comparison to a human?" Biologically, they were different, yes. However, animals could feel pain as a human would. Since they could not consent, Chunji felt it was unfair to subjugate them to his healing arts. "Additionally, I have consented to the practice of my healing arts. This is more efficient since I can practice the magic art wherever, and have fewer problems from outside parties." The thought of dealing with someone other than the patient felt incredibly time-consuming.

Chunji listened and nodded at Emelie's commentary. "I am aware of the flaws of my spell." His eyes lingered back to the spellbook. "I thought I could use the motive of 'self-love' to fuel the spell. Having compassion for oneself is the same as compassion for another." He saw no real difference in that instance. "Though it seems misjudged the parameters. Regardless, this is an improvement compared to my experiences with other spells."

There was something that Emelie had struck Chunji earlier in the conversation. "Aren't all interactions transactional to begin with?" Closing the book, he looked at Emelie without turning his head. To someone else, it looked like he was glaring at her. "People talk to one another. In exchange for their time, they are given entertainment in idle conversation. People gather and adventure together. In exchange for split resources, they earn companionship and protection in numbers. Even now..."

He turned to look at Emelie. "In exchange for your concern for me, you try to trade with it a sense of relief, comfort that I will stop. I am grateful for your concern, but you're overstepping the boundaries between strangers." With a straight face, Chunji presented his side as if it were a presentable argument in a court of law. There was a pause before Chunji gave up on more examples in his thinking. "Heroes are no different. They slay beasts and save the world. In return, they are given praise and recognition. A reward of a sound mind knowing that they positively impacted the world."

Of course it wasn't going to be as simple as just asking for a damned room change. Small wonder all the other girls had come out either shaken or distressed. To have one's inner emotions shouted out for the entire room to see was no small thing, but Iraleth barely raised an eyebrow as the scroll went over Ciara first. Selfishness, eh? Her reasoning was decent, and it had to be made with some amount of truth to not instantly trigger another emotion from the scroll. That, or the girl was an utter master at controlling herself. Doubtful.

The scroll passed over Iraleth, and she narrowed her eyes as she beheld the two words that were etched.

Exhaustion. Suspicion.

Well, little to it but to explain herself. Lying would be unseemly, and as she'd just thought, the scroll would likely pick up on any attempt at deception.

"I'm half-dead on my feet and overdue for seeing a healer." She ground out in regard to the first half before continuing on. "And I have little faith in several people. Chloe most of all. Even if her Ethos inflicted only temporary effects, I found her attitude disgusting and doubt she wouldn't wither anyone she roomed with on a whim." A thought crossed her mind just then. She didn't have to wait to be rested if Ciara did turn out to be dangerous. There was an Undermage, of all people, in the room with them. Best to rip off the bandage now.

"Moreover, while Ciara has proved herself worthy enough with her actions thus far, her magic does bring up cause for concern. I am more than aware not every user of shadow magics is an Umbralist, but better to trust and verify. If my suspicions prove themselves correct, well, better to have two pairs of eyes watching her than one."

A barely apologetic shrug in both Ciara and Hildegunde's direction.

"The Apocalypse's leftovers destroyed my childhood and took the lives of everyone I knew up until that point. I would prefer not to be caught off-guard again, lest others suffer as I have. For what it's worth, I do hope that these thoughts amount to nothing concrete in the end."

@Estylwen @Sifr

"Likewise, you may call me Hilde instead of Hildegunde, if that so suits you," Hildegunde says, "But I have no qualms with using your full name, either."

The hunter keeps her eye on the scroll, trying to tie which words belonged to who. It was needless focus on her end, however; not only were the other two candid about it, but her own emotions appearing quickly broke said focus.

Admiration. Aggravation. Anxiety.

Hildegunde bites the inside of her cheek. She does not like that being laid bare. Admiration was fine; she had expressed as much towards Iraleth, and to a lesser degree, Ciara. Aggravation was tolerable; it had been a long day, and it was an easy emotion to brush off with such an excuse. But anxiety...the girl masked that part of her hard, and it might very well come as a shock given her composed demeanour. That she feels as much prey as she does predator. It's a wonderful thing, that this scroll did not go into the minutia of her mental real estate. It would be, frankly, quite upsetting for Ciara and Iraleth to know how much of her mind was occupied with fixing out escape routes.

After a moment, another word appears on the scroll.

Embarrassment.

Hildegunde's cheeks burn.

"That one is there 'cause I don't like my anxiety being made public," she mutters quickly. "Nothing to do with these two."

She sighs, leaning back a bit. The other two had spoken frankly, from the looks of it, but how frankly? And moreover - how honest should she herself be? Her fingernails on her left hand drum against her right. She decides to address what the others have said before opening up on her own.

"Call it a hunter's hunch, but I think your hopes have a very good chance of coming through. There's little use in playing the long game in a situation like ours, where entry was never guaranteed. Especially when other students were gleefully and openly at each other's throats. This ain't to discredit your intuition or de-legitimize your suspicion, as nothing says it can't be true. Perhaps it's because I'm too trusting or dim witted, but it all seems to be a very elaborate plan for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, especially from someone who took a metaphorical bullet for you."

Then, more quietly; "For all you know, I am a much bigger danger to both of you than Ciara is to us. Who's to say my eyes are on your side? I certainly took no such risks for either of you."

More drumming. Hildegunde sighs, her fingers going still.

"My admiration for these two in the brief time I have known them is not to be understated. And in my admiration, there is a sense of safety. While I don't necessarily trust them as people, I do as fellow warriors. And as your scroll so frankly made clear, I am not nearly as collected and calm as I appear."

There's a small pause as Hildegunde struggles to decide how much to spill.

"My ethos is not something I always have full control over, and it is the main reason I wished to enroll here. I do not use it lightly; I learned that lesson the hard way. And yet, it is hard not to feel its urge when you are a hunter with the mind of prey, especially when today has been been, to put it lightly, just a tad bothersome. I am on edge and I am annoyed. I think it would be safer for everyone if I were in the company of people whom I felt I could rely on. Iraleth has already stopped me from feeling the urge to use my ethos once today. Were it not for her interfering, who knows what would've happened with Chloe on the bridge? I didn't know her ethos to be reversible; I may have very well maimed or even killed her in self defense, and this conversation wouldn't be happening."

That was mortifying to disclose, but given the chaos of today, it doesn't feel nearly as heavy a confession as it should. She gives a small cough, unused to saying so much at once.

"We may not be close friends by any stretch of the word, or teammates with long-honed skills, but after the headache of today and our honest reasoning, I hope we have convinced you to let us stay together all the same."

@ERode

IRIS RECORD

A small sweat droplet slowly flowed down the orc woman's forehead, her eyebrows strafing diagonally upwards as if in awe of the questions being rapid-fired her way. With a small, reminding slap on the shoulder from the dwarf at her side, the orc nodded as she absorbed Otis' questions with thought. "Yes, well..."

A sigh, and then the dwarf would deliver an 'ahem', signaling attention towards himself. He ran a hand through his greying beard as he observed the inquisitive student before him, and seemed more sure of himself in the heat of things. "Put simply, lad, it's all favoritism in the end. We've no say in the matter and we ain't kept up much on the details - we just make sure that only the proper folks get in 'n out, y'hear? Proper, registered folks."

In return, a sharp glare from the orc towards the greying guard, feral golden orbs poking out from underneath her sunglasses, unsatisfied with the dwarf's explanation as she turned back towards Otis. "If you were not requested to partake in the Ascendis Trials after your initial discovery by our institution, then it is no concern of yours what goes on for the students within, child. From what we were briefed on, all that matters is that very specific applicants with the correct criteria were chosen for this dormitory. Apart from that, there is not much to know."

A returning glare, this time from the dwarf, equally displeased with the orc's freedom of speech. A sigh escaped him so hard it was as if steam left his maw, before shrugging. "If we're tellin' everything, then lad, all ye need to know is that when the time comes, the proving grounds will be about the only thing relevant to ye in this tower. Raja already went an' talked about the two faction system, right? Well, when matters between students of differing factions can't be settled, the final call is made in a trial by combat between the involved parties. Artificial leylines from all magical disciplines - arcane, divine, occult and primal - connect and flow strongest within the depths of the proving grounds, where students can do battle with each other at their peak."

A stomp would be taken in Otis' direction by the orc woman, still maintaining distance from his personal space and yet taking on a more imposing posture, defensive and ready to act. "If you wish to get approval from someone to get inside, go talk to Principal Raja! Or, failing that, the starsdamned janitor or something! I'm sure Michael has all kinds of stories about his travels picking locks for his next big win. Grrrr..."

She'd be pulled back, as if a caged beast being held back from unspeakable building rage, by the dwarf who now looked more concerned than annoyed. He stared at Otis while doing so, a nervous smile on his face. "Don't listen to that last part, lad, the janitor ain't a guy you should go to for anythin', really. Just, er... get Raja's permission, she's really the only one who can get ye in legally, unless in the event of an emergency."

Suddenly, footsteps would become more audible from behind Otis. Walking up the steps to the tower, from behind, was Valen Leuvalt. His cold gaze would not meet Otis' as he approached, unless he was spoken to.

---

@AThousandCurses

LIBRARY

Emelie's gaze would turn downcast as Chunji spoke his piece, her expression darkening upon the conversation of transactional behavior. She would nod along, as if seeing his point even if her eyes spoke volumes as to her disagreement with it. His words made sense to her, and they did ring as something she could grasp even if she didn't want to. She traced the spine of a nearby tome on the table as she waited for him to finish, sighing once he did.

"Yeah, yeah. I see your point, but trust me, I've seen things that force me to disagree with you. People... people out there, that don't follow that rationale. It's tough to make you understand that, I know, and I'm not gonna try to convince you. Genuinely, though, such thoughtless monsters do exist out there, acting for no reason at all. Maybe just keep your mind open as to the possibilities, okay? Hurting yourself's still not going to do you any favors in the long run, and even though I don't know you enough to shed any tears over, it'd still suck to know that a classmate got seriously hurt because of his own hubris or somethin'. People always think they're 'the guy' until they realize, too late, that they aren't."

Gently nudging the book away to the other side of the table, realizing that she had gotten carried away with her own zoned-out monologue, her attitude perked up once more as she caught herself before she could fully slip into a trancelike speech. All at once, the darkness of her expression faded away, having relived something that she pulled herself away from before diving beyond the surface level.

"But you're right. It's a lot, being so intrusive around a stranger. I apologize. Lemme just be on my way for now then, I'll be where you found me if you require anything else."

Rising out of her chair, she turned on her heel to walk back towards the desk. Before doing so and once more immersing herself in the sounds of battle on the blaring screen still opened, she turned her head back to look at chunji one last time.

"But, uh, at the very least, please stop bleeding yourself dry all over the library, 'kay? I can't stop you from doing it in general, but if you're going to, then at least do it in the privacy of your own room or something."

And with that, she would leave, returning to her desk.

---

@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark

GIRLS' DORM

Nicole's nails tapped rhythmically against her oak desk as she listened to the girls speak, nodding along, her expression stoic and unchanging throughout as they made their cases. Upon silence hanging within the room, letting the tension extend itself for some seconds while the tapping droned on, the Undermage would nod her head now and again as if contemplating many possibilities and having an internal discussion with herself. There was not a single indication of weakness, hesitation, nor a crack of doubt upon her visage as she pondered, the rhythm of nails against wood not once ceasing its consistent drumming.

Then, all at once, it stopped. Her closed stare drew upon each of them, and then a final nod. "It is true that protection is an important quality. And though you do not find yourselves on the same team in a more formal sense, it is true that the Bronsteel battle was something to behold. Not every day, is it, that strangers can so quickly adapt to the styles of one another in such a desperate bid for survival," she would acknowledge, resting her head to her left side supported by her left palm, elbow resting against the desk for support.

"And Ethos training is exactly what the children of this institute have shown up for, so rest assured, dear Hilde: your future is in safe hands if you trust in the process. Perhaps this future where your Ethos is more boon than burden awaits you easier, though, if you were indeed kept in the company of those you feel a connection to."

Finally, the advisor's head would turn to look upon Iraleth. For this, her expression did deepen, her brow furrowing. There was a different air as Iraleth spoke of Umbralism and the Five Year Apocalypse, those terms clearly bearing close meaning to her as much as anyone else whose life was gravely affected by the events of decades prior.

"Unfortunately, while I share your sentiments, Umbralism is not exactly outlawed in Vaal Shakta as it is in most places. While it is true that the Three Shepherds have perished, the Harvesters executed, and the Seedspawn eradicated, Shaktans that wish to dabble in the recreation of old Umbralist rituals and spells will not be held to the law for doing so unless it should be an attempt to once more return the apocalypse to our realm."

Head lowering downwards, the Undermage's hood would obscure her face as a sigh escaped her. "And though the land of the Neroites holds firm in its anti-Umbralist laws, pushes in recent years from Vaal Shakta's Mayor Highguard have technically made low-ranking Umbralist spells and rituals legal as long as they are for the purpose of cultural values. And so, the question does indeed fall towards Miss Ventura."

Still obscured by her hood, Nicole waved her hand with a flick of the wrist as if commanding troops. In response, the scroll and quill would slowly encircle Ciara, an oppressive atmosphere about them that was not present earlier. She would almost feel an essence tugging at her own - not intruding, but in a certain kind of analogy, it was as if a stranger with dubious intentions was knocking on the door to her house at midnight, wondering what was going on inside.

"Miss Ventura, do tell, within your own comforts, what your intentions are. Your friend does raise a valid point - not every day is it that we see somebody so versed in shadow magic specifically, with the negative association it now has with Umbralist practices. I will acknowledge that much of this stems from ignorance in separating shadow casters from Umbralists, and yet I do wonder regardless where you stand on the matter? One of your parents was an Umbralist survivor passing on old family values, perhaps? A common enough story, if so."

The Undermage's words were sharp and accusatory, face still obscured by her hood as she awaited a reply, the room almost feeling colder by the moment as the conversation continued. The mention of Umbralism had shifted the woman's entire demeanor, and the air in the office was now weighted.

Chunji stared silently and nodded at Emelie. Emelie's concern had unnecessarily caused her to spill out her character. That was fine. It allowed him to understand his peers better. However, there was a problem with this. She is projecting an entirely different scenario onto him. While he knew his understanding of societal norms was lacking, he didn't understand how Emelie attributed his practice to self-harm. Did he say something that sent her off? Regardless, Emelie seemed to understand the situation far better than he and backed off. This was good; they were strangers and should be kept that way.

His gaze lingered back to the pile of knowledge in front of him. Cleaning off the scalpel from his blood, Chunji decided it was time to return to studying. Unfortunately, he would have to find a different place to learn healing, though it wasn't like coming to the library would be fruitless.

Alchemical remedies. Unlike the practice of healing, alchemy operates on a different level. While it was considered a branch of magic, alchemy involved physical objects imbued with essence to be mixed and create a potion. Or, that's at least how he understood it. There was a lot more than potion that alchemy had to do. He'd need an alchemical set and a few ingredients, but that could wait until.

A new branch of medicine would be open to him. Opening the tome, Chunji studied the contents within. First, familiarize him with the fundamentals. It was essential to understand how the processes work before engaging with the practicals.

Wingram Academy, Girls' Dorm
@Nanaya @Psyker Landshark @Sifr

---

She stared in horror at the monstrosity written across the scroll. It was as if the pen tried to give life to the depths of the hidden, darkest corner of her mind, scribbling out the word in a perfect, scrawling mess. The knock, in an analogy's sense, had woken up the demons of the house and enticed them to play.

"Miss Ventura, do tell, within your own comforts, what your intentions are." Said the Undermage, sharpness in her words.

"This is bad. This is really bad." Ciara thought, looking for a way out of this mess.

There was a scoff somewhere in her head. "Relax. Don't you prefer it when they look at you in fear than pity?"

Flashes of faces seeing the poor orphan girl on the street, begging for coins.

Ciara gritted her teeth. "I hate both."

"My, my, does princess want to throw a ball while she's at it? You don't get to choose what you want in this world."

"I have as much choice as anyone else."

"Look at their expressions and tell me that. Be honest with yourself, little Hunger."

She stared at the Undermage, Iraleth, and Hildegunde, all in turn. She had never felt so exposed. The monster was supposed to be under lock and key. That's how she lived her life after she got dumped on the doorstep of her first orphanage. The monster wasn't supposed to surface, ever.

Alas, things never went in her direction. She had been found out repeatedly, in how she spoke to the Voices when she was younger, in how she eradicated plant essence. It caused her caretakers to shun her at every turn, and she had to carve out a future for herself, leaving the orphanages altogether.

This would be no different.

At the futility of trying to hide who she was, a slow, bleak chuckle emanated from Ciara's form.

"What my intentions are, Head Advisor...?" She said softly.

"Will you hide your Hunger, little one?" A Voice rasped in her head.

"I want to be here. They will throw me out if they know the truth."

"Or not."

"A million times I have done this charade. The moment people figure it out, I get the boot."

"But don't you want to see the fear in their eyes when they see who you really are...?"

Ciara was silent at that.

"Don't you want dominion of this place, just like how you were unchallenged in Vaal Kastrix?"

Ciara scoffed, immediately thinking of Gulliver and Valen. "I'd love to wipe the smirk off their faces."

"It starts by building a rumor. A rumor of power. This could be the place to start."

"We're not doing that."

"But you want to. I'm merely suggesting your own thoughts, little Hunger."

She swallowed painfully. What would she do? The Voices had more sway over her than normal, all due to the secondary emotion filling her stomach.



Beyond her burning hunger, the thought of even being slightly exposed brought an overwhelming sense of dread, written hastily on the scroll. She considered simply walking out and sleeping on the roof of the dormitories for the rest of the year. But alas, she imagined the winter months were cold.

No. She couldn't walk away from this one.

She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes resolutely at the Undermage. "Head Advisor, with all due respect, you have no right to ask me about my intentions. If you want answers..."

She stood from her seat, rising to her full height.

"You'll have to duel me for them."

At first, everything is calm. Good, even. Going unexpectedly smooth, in Hildegunde's eyes. She gives a curt nod to the Headmaster when addressed, falling silent.

Then, the tone in the room shifts. Hildegunde isn't even the one being interrogated, and she can feel her stomach tie itself in knots. She watches Ciara, biting her lip.

Well. That was not what Hildegunde was expecting. But then again, what was to be expected today?

"I don't think you're doing yourself a favour. Don't know what's making your flip out, and I don't like how invasive this has been, but I'd take some deep breaths before picking a fight you don't need to have."

She gestures to Iraleth, as if to silently convey that she is not fit to fight, and that if Ciara does choose not to listen, that she can count her out. Then, Hildegunde makes a casual gesture and takes several steps back, making space between herself, Ciara, and Nicole - expressing that she herself will have no part in this. Whether Iraleth followed her lead or tried to intervene made little difference to her.

Her hand has gone back to her gun. She hasn't aimed or pointed it, but curiously, her hand is near the trigger - as if she's ready to shoot.

Perhaps she is.

“Hm.”

Otis, if nothing else, observed the decorum of the question-and-answer, allowing the two to finish speaking completely as he mulled over their response. Politics weren’t uncommon, and he had already expected the majority of factions across Castalia to be dipping their fingers into the pockets of Wingram Academy, gradually peeling and teasing away at merit in order to replace it with nepotism. There was the mention of the board of directors, that instrument of idiocy and vested interests, and the Principal herself appeared to be moving outside the bounds of the academy.

And, of course, there could be no clearer indication of a bullheaded desire for violence and domination than to take the true nexus of Wingram’s artificial leylines, the power spot in which the most ambient essence was present…and seal it off, only unlocking it when two idiots wanted a fight to the death.

“They still turn to war for solutions.” The Strigidae let out a sigh, clearly communicating that he wasn’t about to pull his gun and just kill his way in. It would be worthwhile to speak with that janitor, that ‘Michael’. They had appeared near the end of the entrance examination. “I suppose I shall appeal to the Principal then. Thank you for your time.”

And then, just as quickly, he turned around, amber gaze honing in on the one behind him.

“Valen Leuvalt.” The flame-haired heir’s gaze was cold, but Otis’s was simply bereft of any emotion. “I wish to enter the tower. Will you invite me in as a guest? Or do you not have the authority to do so?” Well, once it started, of course it'd keep going. "And setting that aside, I'm curious too about the Ascendis Trial that you presumably were invited to. Did it take place in the proving grounds as well, or was it largely just a formality owing to prior merit and influence? What was the experience like too, handling the majority of the prospective students? I imagine that you'd have utilized a Hexagrammic Fortress spell in order to withstand their attacks, but that feels like a simple solution to the unique problems that Ethos are wont to present. Unless, of course, your own exists simply to create an inviolable territory between yourself and others, which I'd admit seems appropriate given the character you have performed, but that seems more as if I'm working backwards from the answer now."

He tilted his head to the side. So far to the side his ear touched his shoulder, his gaze unflinching all the while.

"A pity, really, that we walk at different speeds."

Otis had been gone before Valen had emerged to join the brawl. And Otis had arrived on foot, even after a detour, before Valen had reached the steps of his own home. With all this, it was unlikely they would ever be side-by-side. It would be best that they only crossed paths.

Iraleth stared at Ciara for a long moment, her expression incredulous. A brief sideways glance at Hildegunde. Then she spoke.

"What are you doing?" The half-elf forced herself out of her chair, barely able to stand at this point. A limping step. Then another. She interspersed herself between Ciara and Nicole, facing the former.

"You come all this way to Wingram, make it through the trials with us, only to throw it away at the last moment? Whatever secrets you want to conceal, do you honestly believe that they will be worse than being labeled an Umbralist?"

One hand fell down to the hilt of her sheathed sword, resting on it.

"Head Advisor, as the challenged party in this duel, you do have the right to name a champion."

This was her fault for bringing the subject up in the first place. Iraleth still wasn't sorry she'd done so, but allowing the Undermage to fight her battles for her had never been the plan.

"Allow me to stand in your place." A sudden cut rent itself onto Iraleth's face out of nowhere, Rebound already affecting her as she struggled to eke out yet more power. "By all means, if you want to keep your secrets, either strike me down, or force me to burn my Essence out. I do not quit."

No, Nicole's presence was just hedging Iraleth's bets should she prove to be wrong. If Ciara was just going to hang herself with the lifeline offered to her.

"Or, take the third, sane, option. Retract your challenge, stand down, and speak truthfully. The fact that you go to these lengths suggests you fear judgement. Prove yourself above your fears and answer the question, or prove my best-case hopes about you wrong. What will it be?"

@Estylwen @Sifr

@ERode

IRIS RECORD

The Leuvalt heir's crimson stare remained that of a dignified, if distant, lord. His brow did not so much as twitch as Otis fired off questions, allowing the boy to complete his queries while side-glancing towards him upon reaching equal ground. One beat, two, and three would fill the air in silence as Valen stared, awaiting the conclusion of Otis' curiosities, thumbing the left side of his crimson cape's collar thoughtlessly.

"If you wish to know more of how I fight or how I defend myself, perhaps you would challenge me to a duel some day? It would be most invigorating; of this I am certain. Though I know little of Otis Tan Arillo, I know you are above the common rabble."

A smile, a hint of sparking heat in those eyes, and an adjusting of his cape such that the left half billowed in the wind for that brief pause, before continuing. "I would simply be curious to know how far below me an above average combatant still is - how trivial it would be to fell even one who rose above the commoners. How wide is the gap? How far the immeasurable distance in which one cannot compensate for on study or effort alone, in the presence of a chosen? Perhaps you would enlighten me, some day, Strigidae."

His steps, like a militant march, continued towards the Iris Record tower, glancing back one last time with that self-assured smirk still coating his face as if it were painted on. "You may not enter here, not even as a guest, not yet. Prove that you are worthy of darkening the doorstep of the chosen, and you may find a brighter future ahead of you than you ever imagined. Accomplish great things, and you may enter the realm of the greatest."

The orc and dwarf would move aside as he approached, bowing deeply with their eyes closed, their posture suddenly far more professional than moments prior, remaining as silent as the dead.

"Though rest assured, none within the halls of this tower are as great as I. I do not even speak exclusively of students, as even Principal Raja would be brought to heel before my glory."

With that, Valen would disappear within the double doors beyond. As he passed, a blue flicker overtook his silhouette a moment, and then quickly faded as the doors closed behind him. The moment he was out of sight, and presumably out of earshot, the two guards out front dropped their uptight posture and exhaled in relief.

"Always gots to be on me toes 'round lordlings like them, y'hear? If 'e puts in a word to his daddy, it's just all over for me time here, laddie," the dwarf would exclaim towards Otis, his more relaxed posture seeming to also put the orc further at ease.

"Would not recommend taking him up on his offer, though. He does not seem the type to show mercy, even in a non-lethal and supervised sparring match," the orc would chime in, wiping sweat from her brow that she had done an immaculate job of concealing until that very second.

---

@AThousandCurses

LIBRARY

Upon cracking open a dustier tome on alchemy, Chunji would be greeted to a guide that covered the basics of alchemy for aspiring novices. It would begin with the origin of alchemy, as rituals carried out from both the occult and primal disciplines of magic. In the beginning, when mortalkind was still young, those who could naturally draw essence out from existing natural elements such as wood, plants or stones bestowed these gifts upon mortals. On one hand, fey and other nature spirits would use their knowledge on extraction from the forests and plains to assist the less gifted races in the creation of restoratives and remedies; in return, these spirits would receive trinkets, essence or favors, as an alliance of sorts between all-consuming nature and ever-growing society.

On the other hand, those wishing to use nature's gifts for more sinister means might turn to occult spirits, such as vengeful ghosts or sentient bundles of negative and malicious essence known as malforms. Similar to how nature spirits would assist in the utilization of essence from natural phenomena, occult spirits would assist mortals in the twisting of nature's wrath into potent poisons and explosives.

Eventually, primal and occult spirits alike grew tired of the constant and growing need for the alchemical process, and decided in the early 600's to teach the concepts of extraction and imbuement to the mortal races. Alchemy, ever since, has been a process divorced from fey and malforms entirely. While still ritualistic in nature, chalk lines and words of casting are substituted for cauldrons and precise directions and measurements. The process is a mentally demanding one, requiring an alchemist's full attention as they draw out specific conceptual essence such as "restorative" from one herb to enhance its healing efficiency, "sweet" from another to allow the medicine to be consumed easier, "numbing" from yet another to allow the pain to subside while the brew does its work, and so on. This does not apply to just herbs, either - a potion of endurance is often crafted by combining the essence of many stones and taking in their conceptual essence of "sturdy" and combining it with various other conceptual essences drawn from other objects to allow one to consume and temporarily gain a rock's sturdiness essence without the pain of partially transforming one's essence into a rock.

The tome would go on to list more examples of such things, stating the importance of finding the right balance - stating that the essence of some objects is drowned out and diluted easier than others. Those more beneficial to a mortal would be easier to maintain efficiency such as an herb's "restorative" essence, while a careful balance must be struck for things such as fusing in the "sturdy" essence of minerals that would be more unnatural to the average body. Many have died in the pursuit of alchemical balance, and the book warns the dear reader not to stray from the formulas until one is a professional alchemist, doctor, apothecary or other licensed medical professional.

The next chapter, following that, would begin to detail the recipe for a basic, minor healing potion. It would read that this potion would often be used to treat minor scrapes or bruises, and under no circumstances could be trusted to treat life threatening injuries in any way other than to stabilize the patient temporarily. It would begin listing herbs such as Sunnyday Grass for restorative properties, lavender for a pleasant aroma, a drop of olive oil and a pinch of salt for flavor, and water to fill the brim of a standard issue cauldron. It would encourage the reader to extract unnecessary conceptual essence out of each ingredient, such as removing the "earthen" and "warm" essences from Sunnyday Grass, or the miniature dots of "sediment" essence from the water, to the best of the alchemist's ability to do so.

---

@Estylwen@Sifr@Psyker Landshark

GIRLS' DORM

"Nobody is dying today. This is not a school of bloodthirsty murderers, and I will not tolerate those that would threaten to make it so on either side of this conversation."

Snap.

The back left leg of Ciara's chair would audibly snap after the biting words of the Undermage, broken in two. Looking upon the broken chair leg, the fragment that fell off and the tip that remained attached to the chair would be coated in a thin layer of frost that slowly encroached upon itself, layering over and over. At the exact same time this happened, Hildegunde would feel an icy chill on her hand. If she were to inspect the source, she would see an icicle growing out of the hardwood floor, tip sharpened to a spearpoint as it gently and harmlessly nudged against her hand - formed in an instant, and halted just as quickly. An exhale drew out of Nicole from under her hood, visible cold mist leaving as if she were outside on a winter night. Her quill ceased to write as it hovered back over to her, the scroll following closely behind. The scroll, with a snap of the elf's fingers, rolled up and settled on her desk as she finally raised her face up to lock eyes with the girls across from her.

Pity. Pity stained her face, and perhaps even a hint of empathy. With it, though, as if a complex paint of many colors, was clearly visible frustration just barely held back by moral and legal obligations as she sat there. Most of these stronger emotions were shot towards Ciara and Iraleth, and she would first point towards the latter, a calm hand urging the knight to restrain herself. "Rebound takes you as we speak, girl. Cease your essence and still your heart, as death does not become one so young and promising. Not here, not in a place in which your studies should be guided with a safe and responsible hand. Please retract your essence, or I will act in your best interest as faculty of Wingram to end your rebound by force. Judging by how fast the cuts arrived, any further pushes and your prime essence will slowly but surely begin to permanently burn away. That is squandered potential that I will not allow."

Nicole would shoot out of her chair, and then shoot her eyes-closed gaze towards Ciara. It was towards the shadow mage that Nicole's colors shifted dramatically towards that underlying anger, pointing at her. "The same applies to you, Miss Ventura. There is nothing in this world that will move me to crush the potential of the future. If a firm spanking is what you require, I will not be the one to deliver it to you - I am not your mother, and if I were, a far harsher hand than you could imagine would be upon you. If you will not divulge the truth, then a duel it shall be."

Her gaze would once more be drawn towards Iraleth. She would reach into her desk, and withdraw from it a healing potion. She would slide it across her desk, gesturing towards it while looking at the bleeding knight. "Take it, drink it, and please get some rest. There will be no duel today, with the entrance ceremony still clearly fresh in the both of your minds and your essences."

Finally, Nicole would point towards Ciara, her resolve firm with an unflinching hand. "Your duel has been accepted for the date of March 2nd, 1526 SR at 6:00 PM inside the proving grounds of the Iris Record, and a champion selected on my behalf. Iraleth Kyrios will fight for Girls' Dormitory Head Advisor Nicole Malthruse, and Ciara Ventura will fight for herself. Upon Iraleth Kyrios' victory, Ciara Ventura will detail the full truth of any connections she may have to Umbralism. Should Ciara Ventura claim victory, the matter will not be pursued further by faculty, with the exception of Principal Raja who may override these conditions for her own personal investigation should she deem Ventura a threat to campus wellness."

Once more, the scroll would unravel and the quill would begin to rapidly write, putting even the fastest typists to shame. It was laid bare, as if an official document or a binding contract, as Nicole looked across the students opposite her.

"Are these terms acceptable?"

Chunji was entranced by the book. His eyes absorbing every text that came across its sight. Alchemy was a definite way to solve his weakness in healing. Rather than use the internal essences, using external essences allowed him to heal people without any drawback. That was idealistic, but Chunji was willing to ignore it for the time being. Aside from the cons being the acquisition of rarer materials, which would cost money, Chunji felt stumpt on how to experiment with said potions.

The idea allowing unknown foreign substances sounded rather unappealing. Healing magic, from before, was an entirely different case. When using magic, he had enough knowledge to know what essences were being used in it. Alchemy on the other hand? It required multiple test trials and may prove harmful if something went wrong. There were recipes for potions, but Chunji wanted to delve into the more advance practices when he had enough knowledge.

It was something to note, "Potions..." He would need to inquire about a possible workshop or lab within the Academy. After that, he would need to acquire an alchemy set, find a few ingredients, a willing subject, and he'd be good to go. The library had no end to knowledge, so progess shouldn't stagnate.

"An important composition is necessary. If one of the essences overpower the other, or there were an excess of variety, then the potion's effects may be diminished." Was there a greenhouse at the Academy? Perhaps he could receive some botanical ingredients from there. There were so many things to do and plenty of time to survey the academy as well.

Then an idea came into his mind. "Spirits." That's right, he could summon a spirit. Yi bloodline was heavily involved with spirits, proclaiming they were descendents of the Snake God. If he summoned one, then maybe it would bequeath him with some knowledge in alchemy. The problem was that, like demons, spirits often asked for something in return. Another problem was if he was allowed to summon a spirit within the academy. Chunji took more notes as he decided his next course of action.

That answered literally none of Otis’s questions, and it was that, rather than the refusal or the condescending attitude, that caused the Strigidae’s brow to furrow. And it was, from his own standpoint, an immensely stupid curiosity too, when such a thing could simply be figured out via some calculations as to essence output and combat experience. Someone who fought the majority of students would surely be able to grasp what an average was, but the nature of having an average meant that there were both above average and below average individuals tossed into the mix. It was a wholly illogical thing then, to wonder how far above one was from an above average combatant…because they already encountered those above the average!

The Seeker took a breath. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Right now, Valen placed even below Davil, in terms of being able to answer simple questions about himself.

But such sensations of frustration and annoyance, that flare-up of heat within his body, would pass. And as it passed, came cold calculation. If Sword and Shield were designed by the Principal to clash, then there would be opportunity to witness Valen’s abilities even without directly challenging him. He had chosen to scout out Ciara, after all, specifically for the purpose of challenging him. The majority of his questions would be answered if they ever encountered each other, and he reckoned too that it wouldn’t be so difficult to convince Valen to accept the condition of fighting her in pitch-black. As for accomplishing great things? Well, that was what he had always planned.

“I won’t,” Otis responded, turning to the guards. He doubted they would’ve jumped in if Valen started incanting a Fireball spell right then and there. “But I chose the faction opposite to his for that purpose, so his offer doesn’t matter.”

With knowledge, preparation, and strategy, he would be the one to win this war. If only by bringing forth a new era where magical might played second fiddle to technological advancement.

“Thank you for the warning though.”

From his pouch, Otis pulled out two pieces of rum caramels, offering them to the guards, before turning away and heading off to the Dormitories. Davil’s Etho-channeling boots were still inside his Workshop, and his Construct was still tracking what was occurring in that little cottage so many leagues away. Plenty to do, plenty to study. Ah, right, and if appropriate, an appeal to the Principal for a tour of the Iris Record.

Plenty to do indeed.

He picked up his pace, entering into a light jog.

Wingram Academy, Girls' Dorm
@Nanaya @Psyker Landshark @Sifr

---

"I don't think you're doing yourself a favour."

A creeping shadow. Whispering dark mist, thickening the air. The powerlust was palpable.

"You don't get it."

This wasn't about keeping her secrets, her monsters, under lock and key anymore.

This was something more.

She wouldn't be questioned anymore. She was Ciara of Vaal Kastrix, shunned but unquestioned. She had to push back hard in the dark streets of her home city, etching out her future. She would do the same here. It was all a familiar pattern, one she knew well. She just had to push a little...

"You come all this way to Wingram, make it through the trials with us, only to throw it away at the last moment?"

The light, exhausted and affected by rebound, stood in her way. Iraleth's gaze could stop the heart. Ciara scoffed, feeling something akin to her temper flare.

"You. Don't. Understand."

"Head Advisor, as the challenged party in this duel, you do have the right to name a champion. Allow me to stand in your place."

Ciara's jaw dropped a little. Surprise. She wasn't expecting Iraleth, her sister in battle, so willing to take arms against her so quickly, so... thoughtlessly. Did Ciara's sacrifices in their battle against Gulliver mean nothing?

"No. Don't you dare."

She wanted to raise her hand, to force Iraleth to take back her words.

Snap.

Ciara visibly flinched, startled. Immediately, her eyes darted to the source of the noise.

Ice.

Her chair toppled on its back, one of its legs snapped clean in half. There was a chill in the air that choked the agitated dark wisps, and brought Ciara back into her senses. The stretching shadow collapsed. She stared, stunned, as the Undermage spoke. Swallowed painfully when she mentioned getting the spanking of a lifetime. What would a mother's punishment even feel like?

Pity. The look in the face of the Undermage was akin to a form of pity. Furious pity. Ciara's own eyes betrayed flickers of regret, before they hardened, tightening into a narrow stare.

"These terms are acceptable. Upon my defeat, I'll confess everything. But... with the stakes that high..."

She glanced at Iraleth before turning from the room, hand on the handle of the door. "I don't plan on losing."

She opened the door, snatching a glance at Hildegunde, "Don't leave until you get a key."

And with that, she exited the office, the door softly shutting behind her. She had a war to prepare for.

---

Wingram Academy, Girls' Dorm Rooftops and Grounds
@Nanaya

---

The soft sound of rustling came from the open door of room 07. Rushed, as luggage was opened and the sound of purposeful footsteps began moving to and fro. Potted plants were uncased and placed along the windowsill. Plant pods were cut and shoved into pockets. Glass orbs were procured from deep within the luggage case. A change of clothes, essentials, and her blanket and pillow were snatched up in her waiting arms as she closed the luggage case with a huff and strode out of the shared dorm.

In the open doorway, she took a moment's pause, looking at the two other beds.

Mixed feelings crossed her face before she shut the door, locked it, and strode to the entrance of the dormitories. Outside, the sunlight shone bright. She eyed the large, ominous-looking tower first before glancing at the roof of the girl's dormitory. In an instant, she was off the ground and walking across the roof's edge in a rush of shadow. She put her items on the wall by the door access to the roof, and took a moment to catch her breath.

She felt winded. She really did push herself too far today. She sat against the wall in the shade. Put her head in her hands. Her mind buzzing.

"We'll show them-"

"Start preparing for war-"

"No one can beat us-"

"Our secrets are ours alone-"

"I'm going to hurt her..."

The last thought made all the other thoughts come to a standstill, and it was eerily quiet. It was true. Iraleth got involved when Ciara only wanted to protect herself from the Undermage's prying eyes. Ciara's lips pursed, considering how the situation unraveled so quickly. Taking a step back, she had to remember Iraleth was the one who brought up her concern, her suspicion in the first place.

How long had she held these suspicions? Before, or after the fight in the auditorium?

"She can feel our Hunger for her. How we yearn for her."

Ciara scoffed. "Doubtful."

Another voice spoke. Cold like the dead. Whispering in her ear.

"We were going to hurt the light anyway. This is just.... fate forcing your hand."

"What do you- I won't."

"No." The Voice was firm, forceful like a slap. "When you strike her down, you will make it so she never rises up again. We will finally have our light. And you will be unquestioned, and rightfully feared."

Ciara's blood ran cold, eyes staring blindly into the distance. The very thought sickened her.

The Hunger in her stomach was so strong it hurt, burning at her insides at just the thought of finally getting satisfied.

She couldn't... could she?

Ciara shook her head, trying to dispel the consuming darkness. Instead, she stood, eyeing the grounds.

With purpose, she disappeared from the rooftops, appearing again on the grounds of Wingram. She would be gathering a few common things, like specific shapes of rocks, and fallen branches. The day she would likely spend alone along the rooftops, giving herself as many advantages as possible for the upcoming showdown.

War waited for no one.

In all honesty, she hadn't expected the Undermage to acquiesce so easily. While Iraleth had entirely intended to go through with the duel right here and now, the objective had never been to seize victory in the first place. Rather, it was to see if Ciara would stop and give in faced with guilt and common decency. That had evidently fallen through.

Iraleth turned and gave the Head Advisor a resigned sigh, doing as she was told and releasing her hold upon her power. The healing potion was uncorked, and it went down the hatch in short order, some measure of blessed relief coming to her aching body at last. She started to open her mouth, but Ciara beat her to the punch, accepting the duel and leaving in short order. After everything, it seemed her worst fears had been right all along. Ciara had something to hide. Something bad enough that she'd try to conceal it despite the multiple outs she'd been given.

Any hesitation Iraleth had left faded from her mind. If the other girl was this desperate, then there was a better than not chance that Ciara actually was a danger to those around her. In which case, not revealing her secrets was unconscionable. If Ciara wouldn't give up her secrets willingly, then there wasn't any choice left, was there?

"I accept, Head Advisor." Iraleth would have been resolute, if she didn't fix both Nicole and Hildegunde with a regretful stare after. "Though I would have preferred it not come to this. I genuinely hoped that Ciara would have backed down." Zeal blazed back into her eyes, screams and fire echoing across her senses for a moment. "But if she is an Umbralist, I can not, will not allow that. No more villages, no more innocents will be lost in shadow and chaos."

She started to stride out of the office with purpose, but stopped at the doorframe, turning back.

"And, please: Despite our...disagreements, I would hope you still give Hildegunde a key. After all, neither I nor Ciara are opposed to her presence." With that said, Iraleth made for the dorm room, intent on doing what she was told and getting some rest. Tomorrow, she would spend the day in fervent prayer and meditation in order to prepare for the battle ahead.

Iraleth had started this whole mess to begin with. But she would be the one to finish it. One way or another, Ciara would reveal what she really was.

@Estylwen @Sifr

"You're asking me?" Hildegunde asks, a bit taken back. By the pity, the ice that could've nearly speared her, and more importantly, the fact that she seemingly was included in this discussion at all when she had quite literally backed away from the whole ordeal. Most alarming of all was probably the fact that the archmage was still humouring their request. Hildegunde briefly wonders how the conversations with the other students had gone.

You don't get it. She doesn't, and she won't pretend otherwise. She gives a small shrug, running a thumb against the icicle that had nearly struck her hand, before watching her go.

Don't leave without a key. She never planned to come here at all. Evidently it had been a bad idea. A soured idea now, even. She silently vows to speak up next time, even if her idea would likely be rejected. Had they just done things her way, this conversation likely would've not happened. But all the same, she supposed Iraleth would've confronted Ciara eventually about her suspicions.

The woman sighs, running another finger against the icicle, then a hand through her hair. So many outs. So many outs, and Ciara still wanted to fight. And moreover, Iraleth was still down to do so. The two of them were mad, she decided. Admirably mad, but mad nonetheless. Hildegunde leans against the wall, watching Iraleth leave as well. She shakes her head.

"I'm just a gal looking for a place to sleep. I've no part in this now, do I?" Hildegunde tells Nicole.

"I find the whole thing deeply disagreeable and a tad alarming. But it's not my decision to make, or my battle to fight. So I don't see why what I think should matter."

She straightens her back, hands in her pockets.

"That said, if you have a message you'd like me to relay to the others, or some other concern you'd like to bring up to me, go ahead. As invasive and unpleasant as this has been, I'm in no hurry to leave."

@ERode

IRIS RECORD AND BOYS' DORM

The dwarf would gleefully pop the caramel into his mouth, chewing along with mumbles of glee. Much to the orc's chagrin, she would do the same, inhaling the sweet morsel with a shrug, caught off guard by the act with a raised eyebrow towards Otis. "Er, thank you, student. While this will not change my stance on letting you in without permission, the student residents of this tower do not so much greet us as much as they do treat us as a welcoming mat."

A chuckle emerged from the dwarf's generous pot belly, gently punching the orc's shoulder and also turning to Otis as he moves away. "What she really means is that we appreciate the chat, lad, as brief as it was. It's a borin' life out here at the top, an' hired help like us don't often survive long enough to see a sight so grand and peaceful."

He would see the Strigidae off with a smile, standing at attention and yet doing his best to maintain his optimism in a work environment that consisted of standing in front of a door and greeting uncaring talents and eccentrics. Otis broke up the monotony of that, if only temporarily, and it was clear as day that the pair were grateful for that.

Upon arriving at the boys' dormitory, Otis would see the fateful nameplate hanging above his door, upon getting his affairs in order and being given his room key. Closer to the top of the door, it would read clear as day, 'Otis and Davil'. Should he enter, however, Davil would be nowhere to be seen inside at the current moment.

---

@AThousandCurses

LIBRARY

Eventually, the library would fill with students one after another. As time passed and Chunji's studies and understanding of essence-related concepts deepened, more students began to take the haven of knowledge as their place of gathering. Emelie had long since turned off her combat recordings to maintain the image of a respectful and dutiful librarian, twiddling her thumbs and building a house of cards on top of her desk or sticking pencils up her nose and chant-giggling, "I'm a walrus, I'm a walrus," to herself repeatedly. Not a soul that passed by saw her as a trustworthy individual, and all made it their business to enter and leave with the speed of a flash flood. If there was any drawback at all to this, it was the noise. What was lost in Emelie's return to an attempt at dignity was replaced by many chipper and gossip-driven students using the place as a meeting hall, among other things.

A few even sat near Chunji's table, and instead of researching, took to setting up a game of cards instead. They grew louder and louder as time went on, even through the occasional 'shhhh' gestures from Emelie, who quite frankly seemed mostly unbothered, instead offering token resistance for the sake of her job.

---

@Sifr@Psyker Landshark

GIRLS' DORM

The icy Undermage was leaned forward in thought, nodding at Iraleth's comments as she left, pondering something. Once it was only the duo of Hildegunde and Nicole that remained in the room, the latter leaned back in her chair and opened her mouth. As she did so, it was as if all of the cold air and ice in the room flowed back into her, leaving it in its prior state of reasonable temperature. With her face turned towards the ceiling, she openly grit her teeth, her posture sinking as if letting the chair take all of the stress out of her. "Wheeeeeew," she would breathe, the back of her hand trailing along her forehead. "School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead."

An uncharacteristic giggle was let loose from her as she clearly imagined something that only made sense to her in her own context, and eventually reoriented herself to face Hildegunde once more. "I cannot deny that you seem to bring a certain measure of balance between those two. If a three-person room is what you all unanimously desire, and that desire has not been shaken by the declarations made in this room..."

Digging into her desk drawer, a key was withdrawn - the number stickered to its main body matching that of the room that Ciara and Iraleth inhabited. Nicole slid it across to the other side of her desk, and gestured towards Hildegunde. "For you. Under the condition, of course, that you try to rethink what you have just said in the future. In the days ahead, every battle is yours to fight, girl. If we are to embody what Nero Leuvalt and his Wings meant to the people, every battle that we believe we have the power to change becomes our battle."

Once more, the elf would lean back in her chair and ease off of Hildegunde in her posture. "It is not a rational approach, I will admit. It is, however, the approach this world in these crucial years of rebuilding will need if heroes are to once more become commonplace."

Finally, Nicole would gesture towards the door. "As for messages for them? Concerns? They will be your roommates and friends from now on, so if there is anything you could do for me, it would be to speak your mind. To me, to them, or anyone else, truly. Were I to speak my own mind, I would go so far as to suggest that your outward bluntness is a deeper cover for, perhaps, something else that lurks; something that cannot be allowed to surface. But, such explorations are above what someone like me is obligated to cover."

A smile, and then a chuckle. "Off with you, now. Make sure this conflict of theirs does not escalate to murder, and we will see what awaits beyond their duel. And, my own personal request? Do what you can to calm the fires of war building between them, lest they burn each other away when their battle begins tomorrow."

---

@Estylwen

GIRLS' DORM GROUNDS

During Ciara's search for objects to assist her in her future duel, she would come across the familiar visage of Michael, the scraggly janitor raking leaves and sorting scattered trash into their proper bins. He leaned against his rake, wiping his brow despite still wearing his tattered hood firmly in the spring heat. Upon catching a glimpse of her, Michael would wave to her, beginning to move towards her. The whole while, he would drag the pile of leaves with him with his rake, clumsily raising a finger to beg her to wait while he slowly stumbles his way over.

"Hope ya don't mind me sayin' so, but you seem down in the dumps there. Hope things're okay, yeah? And if noooot..."

Bending down, the cloaked janitor withdrew a leaf from the top of the pile: red, with not a single bite or puncture in it, and almost perfectly shaped the way one might draw a stereotypical leaf. He grinned as he raised it towards her, the leaf almost seeming to reflect the golden rays of the sun and reflect them as scarlet streams on the other way out. "They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."

Whether she would accept it or not, Michael would continue raking in leaves while nodding along to anything she might be saying, occasionally interjecting with a, "hm," or an, "ah." He seemed simultaneously interested and dismissive at the same time as he simply existed on the school grounds, curious about how the girl's first day at Wingram was going, but not having much to say in response to anything she might tell him.

Wingram Academy, Girls' Dorm Rooftops and Grounds
@Nanaya

---

"They say the gift of a perfect red leaf on the first day of spring brings good luck."

She simply stared at the gift, admiring it, before glancing with a confused expression at the janitor. This... was for her?

She couldn't remember a time when someone had given something to her of their own volition.

"...Thank you." She said, an awestruck note in her tone as she held the leaf in her hands. It really did shine in the light, not a single imperfection.

"Are you... busy tomorrow? I uh, I... I got into a fight." She said, avoiding his glance, instead busying herself with setting the leaf between the blank pages of her conjured Adapa.

Her lips pursed before speaking again. "It would be nice... if someone was on my side when it goes down."

She glanced at Michael as the Adapa shut, disappearing into thin air. "I usually fight on my own, but... it's the first time I've had to fight... someone I... admired."

She swallowed painfully, straightened up, and gave the janitor a polite bow. "Sorry."

It wouldn't do to bother him with her troubles. No one deserved that, even if he was more than he seemed.

After that, she dismissed herself, finding the remainder of her items. By the time she placed the last stone in her satchel, her stomach rumbled with normal hunger. Back-tracking through the grounds of Wingram, Ciara looked for signs of food. Surely, they had something set up for the students on their first day.

She passed by the red buildings, the plaza, and the bridge. There were scorch marks in certain areas that she didn't remember existing the first time she flew through here. The fighting outside must had been quite intense.

The warm smell of sweetened apples wafted through the air, and Ciara's eyes turned to the red buildings.

Oh, of course. The same buildings where the chef Mannekin had emerged from and ganged up on her and Otis. Of course the cafeteria was here. The cooking utensils made sense now. Ciara had to stifle a dry smirk, thinking of Gulliver's multi-level battle, as she made her way towards the buildings. Inside, she could see food being prepared. Out of the wide assortment, she took some simple provisions: soup, bread, and cheese.

A few moments later, she was sitting against the wall of her little hideaway on the rooftop of the Girls' Dormitory, a crackling fire in front of her. The soup was finished, and she chewed on the bread, feeling her hunger ease into a happy satisfaction.

Every bite, her hunger lessened.

Every mouthful, she felt something like relief.

Half-baked relief that painted her other Hunger in disgusting hues of need.

She took another biteful, and felt a raging fire, an empty pit in her stomach that would never, ever be satisfied with food like this.

A black, aching pit that never ceased its screaming in her mind, day in, day out.

She took another bite, staring at the sky blankly, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks.

---

It was some time later when the fire had died down, her glass bottles filled and stitched into the inside of her jacket. Her eyes were still red from her tears, and she struggled to keep them open. She took her blanket and pillow, curled on her side, and tried to sleep.

"Ma'am... you're going to sleep outside tonight?" A light, whispery voice spoke in her mind. The Adapa.

"I slept outside last night. Don't really see a difference."

"But you have a soft bed waiting for you downstairs."

Ciara was silent at that, still refusing to move.

The Adapa paused before speaking in her mind again. "Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"It would be best not to let your pride get in the way of a good night's sleep. You're going to need your rest for tomorrow."

"Who said I was being prideful?"

"Why do you want to sleep outside by yourself?"

"I..." Ciara stammered, at a loss for words. "I don't want to get talked out of this fight. I don't want Hildegunde to smother my anger."

"What's the real reason...?"

"I... if I see Iraleth- how can I hurt the light..."

"Now. Ma'am. What would happen if you backed out?"

"I'd have to... I'd-" She instinctively flinched, her mind clouding with fear.

The Adapa tried to hush her, creating a calming sensation in her mind. "You're not going to back down, and you won't be talked out of this. You've made up your mind, haven't you?"

Ciara took a moment before she nodded, her eyes resolute.

"Then there's no fear on you if you sleep in your proper bed tonight, Ma'am."

Ciara considered the Adapa's words for a long, long moment, the wind rustling through the grounds below before she finally sighed.

"Fine."

Moments later, her items, blanket, and pillow, were wrapped under her arm. With her free hand, she withdrew the key for room 07. She stood silently in the hallway, steeling herself, before entering the shared dorm room softly. What Iraleth and Hildegunde would say, or think, Ciara was ready.

Nothing would talk her out of fighting for her life tomorrow.

School faculty is a much more strenuous and mentally demanding task than Shaktan politics. At the very least, I can predict when a council member wants someone dead.

"Fucking tell me about it. Whatever I thought I was signing up for, it wasn't this." The comment was probably not meant for Hildegunde to add onto, but the sentiment still carried over. Neither of them were ready for this school, from the sounds of it. The giggle takes her off guard, but she makes no comment on it. Nor does she comment on the idea that she brings balance to the duo, but the look of confusion on her face says it all. A thought occurs to Hildegunde; she had been so preoccupied during the last few hours that she forgot to mark her hands. As Nicole talks, she takes a pen from her person and uncaps it, putting down a singular mark on the back of her palm. A few faded scribbles accompany it from days prior.

"That's the key word though, ain't it? Believe. You don't take shots at prey bigger than you unless you're confident you can take the thing down. Best case scenario, you cause unneeded suffering. Worst case, you end up the one dying."

There's a small silence that follows. Her own words remind her briefly of her brother.

"I've seen these two in action; you haven't. I don't think anything I say or do will stop either of them; it may very well escalate the situation. But if only to appease you, I'll do my best to temper the fires. Worst case scenario, and perhaps the only promise I can make; I'll stop them from murdering each other."

Her eyes darken. She does not like the implication that others might be aware of her own cover. She debates, for a moment, asking Nicole about anywhere isolated on campus, but...no. If an accident does happen, the last thing she needs is for school faculty to be aware that she was there.

"On that note, I will excuse myself."

Before leaving the room, she gives a dip of her head.

---

Hildegunde weaves through the dense underbush in the heart of the forest, her obscure and silence spells back in full effect. She has ventured into the most remote, rough part of the forest, to avoid the potential of any human causalities. She inhales, choosing inanimate targets in the vain hope that focusing on a non-lethal usage may prevent the uncontrolled bullet from hitting a living target.

Nearest silk oak tree. Topmost branch.

"Freikugeln."

The second magic bullet flies harmlessly through the air, silently meeting its mark before dissipating.

Nearest silk oak tree. Lowest branch.

"Freikugeln."

Predictably, the third...doesn't. It goes long out of eyeshot, and while it can't be heard, Hildegunde knows that it will eventually be hitting something, somewhere. And frankly, she doesn't want to stick around and find out what it hit. Experience tells her the target will be living, and to the heart. In all likelihood, with how isolated she is, it'll hit an animal, and not something with sapience. Free food for the scavengers and decomposers. If she's not...

She begins chomping down on some of her dried venison as she moves to leave, knowing she'll probably miss dinner. Praying no one will follow her and delay her trip back. She vows to move silently and steadily; as much as she yearns to run, fleeing in a hurry will only draw suspicion.

---

With Iraleth asleep, and Ciara nowhere to be found, Hildegunde finds herself laying wide awake on her bed. Her old worries about which faction to choose has left her - she's now trying to figure out what, if anything, to say to the duo. So frustrated with the dilemna is she that she considers evoking Freischütz, but Ciara enters the room before such a thing can happen.

If Hildegunde planned on giving Ciara a mouthful when she walked in, she showed no signs of it. She gives the girl a casual salute at first, before her face softens, realization dawning on her.

Ciara's eyes are still red. She sits up, concern on her face.

"Hey, you okay?" Hildegunde whispers, so as to not disturb Iraleth.

"Don't gotta tell me what's wrong if you don't wanna, just...checking in."