Kuro
Fallenreaper
Ti
Jumbus
Silly
Echotech71
Astro
Chronic
Lildear18
pantothenicChapter Three: Decisions, Decisions
Morning dawned over Ersand’Enise much as the previous morning had dawned. Dew covered the lawns of the university grounds, fresh off of their first trim of the year. It sparkled on the leaves of maple and palm trees alike. Owls closed their eyes. Seagulls circled overhead and geese honked and fluttered - engaged in their usual jousts on Hedda’s Lake. Of the tenebrous fog that had held the city in its grip the previous night, there was no reminder. Sunlight filtered in through windows, roosters crowed, and the business of the day had already gotten underway as merchants and vendors bustled about the marketplaces and thoroughfares, setting out their offerings.
For most students, their first night as apprentices in the City of the Bells had been one of sound sleep. They had been so tired as to have had little other option. As the light hit their slumbering faces, however, most of them awoke. Others were pulled from their sleep by the smell of breakfast being prepared: the crackle and sizzle of eggs and bacon, the bubble of the cauldron, and the warm, rich aroma of steam, salts, and baking bread rising from the kitchen. Still, it took the bells for some. As the hours of Shune gave way to those of Oraff, they raised a great, clanging cacophony of welcome that may have snapped some of the young Biros back to their entrance the day before. It simply could not be slept through, much as some may have put up brief but spirited resistance. Besides, this also marked the limits of their mentors’ patience.
Penny Pellegrin
“Up!” shouted Sienna. She literally had a dinner bell - for breakfast - and she was ringing it. Penny buried her head under her pillow momentarily, hair a birdsnest, aches and pains from an entire day on foot only partially subsided. Knowing Sienna as she did, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the woman had separate bells with separate pitches for each meal. “Morning!” the Zeno shouted. “Well into morning! You don’t have to shine, but you need to rise!”
Penny groaned, very much not shining. She lifted the pillow slightly and cast about for her housemates, but she was evidently the last one left in bed. She could hear the thump of footsteps on the stairs and the creak of the floorboards. Oraff lift me, she begged out of habit. She sat up and extricated herself from her covers, mouth cavernously dry, nightgown sweaty, and… yes, she believed that those were period cramps starting up. Lovely. Icing on the cake. She groaned and flopped back down for a second before kicking herself free of her covers and rolling out of bed in a single motion. She pulled on her gloves, grabbed a crutch, and stumbled over to one of the bedchamber windows. Pushing it open, she found herself fairly thrown awake by the distant noises of Parade Street. Blessedly, Sienna Afraval’s townhome did not front upon a major thoroughfare, but it was close enough that the sounds and pungent smells made their way over, after a fashion.
Penny blinked, took a deep breath, and closed the window. Ten minutes later, she was downstairs: nightgown swapped for a light dress and hair thrown into a ponytail. Her three fellow apprentices were gathered around a table along with their master. “Good morning.” She curtsied slightly, her voice an awful croak. “Morning, Miss Pellegrin,” replied Sienna, and there was a hint of disapproval in her tone. A pang of guilt and anxiety seized the girl. Perhaps she had been a bit too rambunctious the previous evening. She had not made a good account of herself. She would do better today. She swore it by Dami. There was a plate set out for her, with bread, eggs, and bacon, as well as a tall glass of water. She glanced around. A couple of others were still finishing up but, mostly, it was crumbs and scraps. “Thank you,” she said, quickly taking a seat. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“Yes, no worry,” replied the Zeno, “well, thank Serrio too.”
Penny blinked. She hadn’t even noticed the small, heavyset man by the washbasin. He was humming and scrubbing some pots.
The girl rose, chair making an awful clunking screech as her body pushed it back. “Thank you, Serrio!” She chirped, starting to try a curtsy but thinking better of it as she nearly stumbled.
"You are most welcome, milady.” He bowed his head slightly, flashed a smile of professional courtesy and went back to his scrubbing and humming. Penny sat back down and pulled herself up to the table, making a bib of her napkin and stuffing some eggs scrambled into her mouth. Delectable!
“Now, where were we?” Sienna started up. “It was the day’s schedule, hmm?”
She was met with affirmations from the others. Penny blushed and smiled at them, sorry for having held anything up but ...oddly trusting of this group, despite one of them having snored last night.
“Yes, so today you’ll have a tour of campus and the relevant parts of the city. You’ll receive your course selection sheets and…” She pursed her lips. “I’m afraid there will be further speeches.” Had their Zeno just rolled her eyes? “Every talking head needs to have his word, I’m afraid. Play nice. Some of them may actually have good things to say.” She stopped for a sip of water. “After all of that, there will be a brief service at the cathedral - mandatory attendance, I’m afraid - and we’ll meet back here by 3:00 Rezain for dinner and to discuss your course selections. I’ll be off to Balthazar Hall to hand those in by 3 Shune the next morning, so be prompt with them. Any questions?”
Marlijn Vaanse
Marlijn was up rather early, but well-rested. The small Rettanese girl who she’d shared a bedchamber with - something ‘Pan’, she thought - was quiet and… Marlijn wasn’t sure, but she’d sensed a degree of purposeful aloofness, even hostility. She’d barely acknowledged their Zeno, buried her nose in a book the entire night and, well… that had been that. It had bothered Marlijn. She could pretend that it hadn’t, but it had. Typical greenlander. The Torragonese boy with the long, solemn face had been more polite, at least, but little more interactive. Vyrik, the one who she’d thought of as a street urchin, and who’d done precious little to dispel the image, seemed like a bit more fun. Technically he was probably beneath her, especially in social station, but… this was a place where ability trumped such distinctions. Plus, he wasn’t bad looking, current presentability aside, and what was wrong with a little fun on campus?
He’d certainly had plenty of questions for Zeno Mozaru the previous evening, and Marlijn remembered the answers. The Zeno had nodded, businesslike, with a hint of a smile, and told the boy that life was not a sprint. Still, “Address me as Zeno Mozaru. I have bedchambers prepared for you at my home, where you’ll stay two days each week, when not in your dormitories. You will soon find out what we will learn, but the first lesson is patience.” Marlijn had giggled at that, and somewhat at the delivery. She sensed that this Zeno had more humour to him than he let on. Dimly, she recalled that he had a special love for the Kinetic and that he had “been practicing here since well before you were born.”
Zeno Mozaru had sensed the tiredness of the group yesterday, so dinner had been a low-key affair. Breakfast was similar. By the time that Marlijn had made it to the dining room, it was laid out and the Zeno was seated at the head of the table, food already half-eaten. A heavyset woman of what she imagined was Belzaggic extraction shuffled past, carrying an empty pot towards the washbasin. Marlijn nodded in greeting. “Good morning, ma’am.” The woman bowed slightly. “Good morning, milady.”
“Marlijn Vaanse, meet Megga Jorbaz. She has been with my family since we were children and was nice enough to make the trip here.”
“A pleasure,” Marlijn replied.
“Nice meeting you too, dear. Now sit and eat before the food gets cold. I worked hard on that.” She hustled off with her pot.
Breakfast was sausage, pancakes, and eggs with hollandaise sauce. She fairly gobbled it down and Zeno Mozaru, while polite, did not stand on ceremony either. Within minutes, both were done. “Megga is… quite the cook, Zeno Mozaru.”
He smiled, a hint of warmth twinkling in his striking grey eyes. “She’s a gem,” he agreed. “Now, for the day’s agenda.”
Marlijn blinked, somewhat nonplussed. “Are we to wait for the others?” she inquired, but the Zeno merely glanced up at a cuckoo clock on the wall that his apprentice recognized as being of Kerrreman manufacture. “They have ten minutes. Then, the day shall begin with or without them. You will quickly find that I am not here to hold your hand if you will not make the effort.” He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a kerchief and she noticed that he already had his boots on and his staff leaning against the wall nearby. “You, however, have.” He smiled in a professional way.
Marlijn nodded, glancing up the stairs. It was… rather early. Zeno Mozaru was strict, then, perhaps a tad judgmental. She took a sip of water and cleared her throat. “Right, the day’s agenda. Sorry for my interruption. What will we be doing today?”
“Orientation,” he replied simply. “You’ll have a tour of campus, there will be some speeches, and you will worship in the cathedral. You should receive your course selection documents and I expect we will discuss those following dinner. I will need them by the next morning. You wouldn’t want to miss out on your classes, now would you?”
“No sir.” She shook her head. “I’m ever so excited to learn.” He smiled in return, briefly, with only his lips, as he usually did. Then, there were footsteps on the stairs and Marlijn craned her neck to see who it could be.
Jomurr Ikon III
Jomurr Ikon rose from his bed. He had slept later than was his custom, but it was not an indulgent hour. He had insisted, of course, on his own lodgings, and the benefits had been felt by all who mattered. That was how a leader led. Leon Solaire also had also been granted a private bedchamber as a result. Sweet, ambitious Carmillia had been stuck with that beast of Fireblood, but he was working on a solution for that issue as well. Jomurr’s mind was constantly on the move, constantly looking for solutions. That was how a leader led. Mayhaps I could get her exiled to the attic, he thought wryly, truly wishing it were so. He had not come here seeking conflict, but he was of no mind to back down either. In fact, the notion hadn’t even occurred to him. One does not prostrate oneself before the rabble. You either break them, as with a wild stallion, or you put them down, as with a diseased rabbit. In any event, there were plenty more where she’d come from.
After spending some time freshening up, he dressed in his finest clothes - understated but impeccably fashionable, as was his custom - and decided to make his way downstairs. The Zeno’s townhome was much… cozier than what he was accustomed to, but he believed that he had risen to the challenge with the stoic grace expected of one of his station. At least it would only be for two nights each week. Then, he could return to more suitable company.
However, upon making it into the atrium, Jomurr was struck by the stillness and silence of the place: a little island of such among the growing morning bustle of the city. He scowled, displeased, and made his way towards the dining room, past the Zeno’s strange Nashibansek art pieces and… had she called these ones ‘dreamcatchers?’ It had struck him as positively Hexaic. “Master Zeno?” he called, careful not to raise his voice to a brutish level, but there was no reply. She was, in fact, nowhere to be found.
At this, Jomurr’s mood soured precipitously. He had expended a great deal of emotional effort on feigning and perhaps even attempting to develop a degree of respect for this common foreigner who titled herself a master, yet she could not even be bothered to rise before her students. It irked him in a deep, profound way, for he had looked greatly forward to studying under the tutelage of some wise master and, instead, had gotten… whatever Fades-in-Moonlight was. He took a moment to compose himself, wondering if, at least, any of his fellow Biros might be about. Before he could truly commence his search, however, he noticed the note. He plucked it from the table and held it up to read.
‘Dear Students,
Sorry for being scarce this morning. I’d wanted a better start, really. Anna must’ve decided to go walkabout last night after her little blowup and she hasn’t come back yet. As you’re reading this, I’m probably dragging her out of some seedy inn or hollow under a roadside tree and giving her a good tonguelashing. Expect us back soon. For now, I’ve talked with Zeno Hamir Zemana, two houses to the right. You’ll join his group until I’m back. If you’re hungry, there’s porridge in the pot which you can warm up and macaroons on the covered tray in front of you.
Luna’
Jomurr looked up. There was indeed a covered tray. He let his face go slack. So the problem wasn’t Fades-in-Moonlight, it was that beastly girl. He felt, at once, a pang of guilt for having judged the former, and a deeper, burning sort of dislike for the latter. It was clear that she would be an active detriment to not only his, but also his fellow apprentices’ experience here. He set his face, marched to the doorway, and looked out onto the street. “You!” he called, “I say, you!” Jomurr would be damned if he was going to heat up porridge. He now felt a degree of sympathy for his instructor, but they would certainly need to have a discussion on cuisine once they reunited.
The boy he was calling stopped midstep and twisted to face him. “Me?”
“Yes, man, of course you.”
The boy furrowed his brow and Jomurr realized that he was being rather uncouth. “Apologies for my rudeness, but would you like to make two corona?”
The boy blinked and his face lit up. “Absolutely, milord.”
Jomurr nodded. “Good fellow.” He reached into his coinpurse and pulled out… one neskal should do, handing it over. “You see that bakery down the street?”
The boy nodded.
“Go there and fetch for us a loaf of pumpernickel bread - sliced, three hot cakes: the ones filled with bacon, cheese, and spinach. Then three custard and a half-dozen lemon tarts.” He paused. “Don’t think I should offer such indulgences regularly, but fetch yourself one too. Such are the rewards of working for me should you continue in my employ.” He pursed his lips in a polite sort of acknowledgement. “Then, six fine slices of smoked ham from the butcher’s shop, a pheasant, and some steamed yams from that vendor over there.” Yes, Jomurr supposed. That should do for three people and perhaps provide something for dinner should the Zeno not return by then. As the ranking member of the household, it was his job to provide for the others and also to be prepared for any eventualities. It was a duty that he took with the utmost seriousness.
The boy blinked. “I shall need a cart, milord,” and Jomurr regarded him dimly. “You’ve arms, haven’t you?”
“Well…yes.”
“You’ve a perfectly good pair of legs too.” Briefly, he considered the girl from the opening ceremony who made due with only one. “My point is that you can make multiple trips, and a bonus might just be in it for you if you’re prompt enough. Now hurry up. I grow weary of this procrastination and I hunger.”
“Uh, right, of course -”
The door closed, Jomurr Ikon the Third unable to bear, for a moment longer, the boy’s common simplicity nor the pungent stench of the street.
“M-Milord,” his new employee stammered to nobody in particular.
Manfred Hohenfelter von Meckelin-Thandau
Manfred was up at the crack of dawn, by habit. There was something peaceful about watching a city awaken: the way that the sounds and scents grew, how natural ones gave way to human ones, and that moment when morning light first broke over the rooftops.
He decided to bathe and to read. Kurbis had hidden under his bed for most of the night, prickly and bothered by his new surroundings and the presence of another cat, but Manfred was happy to see the little orange pumpkin out of his hiding place. The cat rubbed up against his shins, arching his back and letting out a loud cat noise. The Kerreman bent down briefly to rub behind his ears. “Guten Morgen, mein kleiner Kürbis,” he whispered, careful not to wake his roommate. More cat noises - happy ones - followed.
He was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Manfred finished as quickly as he could, pulled his boots and jacket on, and followed them down.
That his present accommodations were… somewhat exotic had come as no shock to the Kerreman. His Paggonian chambermate had seemed quite at home. There were bright, pastel colours, arches, and lattices everywhere. Vines snaked up colonnades and there was an inner courtyard and platforms for lounging. The table, however, was a table. The kitchen was… well-appointed to say the least and, Manfred quickly found that he was not alone there. Zeno Zemana was hard at work with a number of ingredients. He not only had a wood-fired oven that he was presently using a handful of simple spells to stoke, there was another contraption with a sort of steel grate over heated coals. The apprentice could feel his master manipulating the thermal energies: intensifying them and evening them out where needed. Suffice to say that the process intrigued him. “Ah!” Zeno Zemana half-turned. “Welcome, welcome!” He cleared his throat, glancing between Manfred and the table. “Please, have a seat, my boy. Breakfast is on the way and, dare I say, it is the most important meal of the day.”
Manfred obeyed. He blinked and sniffed, taking in the aroma as… multiple meals began to take shape. He had never seen the Gift used in this way - at least not with such skill - and he nearly smiled. Perhaps the Zeno was wise to his musings, for he half-turned again. “Eh? You like it, apprentice, huh?”
Manfred nodded. “It is intriguing.”
“Mmm,” replied the Zeno, busy measuring out some spices. “Mhm.” He nodded. “The Gift isn’t only for fighting,” he grunted. “Oh sure, it’s plenty good for that, but one can create beautiful things - beautiful things - if he’s open to it.” Zeno Zemana paused. “Hey, boy, grab that pot that’s done boiling, will you? Set it down on the stones over there.”
“Yes, master Zeno.” Manfred made haste to do so and his master continued. “When the others are up, we’ll talk more about the day. There have been some...unexpected changes, but I want you to eat well first. Food is for the spirit as much as the body - gets you in the mood to learn.”
Manfred suppressed a scowl, wondering what those unexpected changes could be, but his master did not seem to be in poor spirits, so he assumed that they weren't of much consequence. “Yes sir.”
The Zeno nodded, working a whisk over a pan. “I think the older girl’s already up - Eun-Ji, yes?”
Involuntarily, Manfred cast about for her. “Yes, Eun-Ji, sir.”
His master smirked, perhaps following Manfred’s gaze. “Saw her earlier,” he remarked. A hint of a conspiratorial grin crossed his leathery face. “Pretty young lady, eh?” He laughed. “And a handsome young lord, haha!” The Kerreman could feel the colour rising in his cheeks, so he quickly changed the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking, master Zeno, what is on our agenda for the day?”
Zeno Zemana was busy sprinkling something onto what looked like a lump of dough. He twisted after sliding it into a wood-fired oven. “Oh, you’ll get the tour today. Yes, that’s it. Another group's joining ours. Their Zeno had something come up. Lots of speeches too.” He sidestepped over to some bottles, plucked one out, and began mixing its contents liberally into the pan. The smell was amazing. “Choosing courses,” the Zeno continued, “A big mass in that cathedral for you Quentics - I’ll be headed to the temple of Vashdal with Karim - but I’ll meet up with you later. Give you some advice about your classes over a nice dinner if you need it.” He paused almost reverently, as if picturing ‘dinner’ in his mind’s eye, and remembered to crack a smile. “Haha! Sound good, my boy?”
Manfred nodded, pensive. “Yes, master Zeno. Very much so. Thank you.”
Course Selection
OOC: Later in the day, as they are seated in the grand lecture atrium of Arc-en-Ciel Hall, the Biros will receive their course selection papers. They will receive brief explanations from the instructors of those courses on what they will learn (you will DM me if you want more info). They must choose their courses, sign the papers, and hand these in to their masters before 3:00 Shune the next morning.
