Obscene Symphony

Of Blood and Magic

“Oh, yes,” Aaron replied to Lilith, a bit curious about the ‘you don’t need magic to be successful’ comment, but a little too polite to ask. Instead, he held up his ring once more, spinning it slowly to show off the intricate, gem-like cut of the surface. “It’s something of a family tradition, I suppose. This one was my Awakening crystal, and my relatives all have foci—or just jewelry, in the case of primaries like my mother—made from their own crystals.”

He held the ring up long enough for Lilith to look her fill before he dropped his hand to his side, shrugging in veiled disappointment when he once again came up empty. “Unfortunately I can’t show you tonight, but I’m also working on using my sword as a second focus. Though, truth be told, I’m starting to think that might be a little more flashy than useful.” He offered with a laugh. That was true, at least; he’d always thought it would be cool, but as time wore on (and Varis showed him how precarious his relationship with Dawn really was) the endeavour was starting to seem like more trouble than it was worth.

He was drawn from his thoughts when Lilith jerked back, and he almost jumped as well as pink tea flooded the picnic blanket. Rather than soaking him, however, it was like the tea spilled on a hovering sheet of glass, soon to rush obediently over to the blue-haired one who’d been laughing before—Diego, if Aaron remembered correctly. The display was impressive, and Aaron couldn’t help the fond smile it put on his face as he pictured Lilie in Diego’s place, commanding tea around like it was second nature with precision he had no doubt she'd achieve in no time. He also couldn’t help but smirk at the reprimand—and the smack—Diego gave Ander, but schooled his features back to something polite when he was addressed.

Aside from the mixed feelings he had about getting yet another nickname, the actual question brought back some of his earlier apprehension, though this time he was at least lucid enough to hide it. Despite the weird sense of treading somewhere forbidden whenever it came up, his arcane major wasn’t really a secret, but after all the grief it caused him and the apparent stigma (admittedly, probably deserved stigma) against the field, he still hesitated to admit his association with it.

“You know, I never really put much thought into it until I arrived here,” he replied blandly, biding his time. Diego’s assumption was interesting. He wasn’t entirely wrong; the difficulty, danger, and incredible potential inherent to Summoning had held passing interest for him in the past. Still, the arcane disciplines had never really stuck in the forefront of his mind for any length of time. No, even before his Awakening Aaron had always been more interested in affinity magic, first dreaming of the wonders he could accomplish as a Fire mage like his mother and grandfather, and later digging into everything he could find about the diverse and incredible feats possible with Light magic. Honestly, if his Lady hadn’t instilled in him an urgency to protect his thoughts and memories, Aaron wasn’t sure how he would have chosen his major. Maybe he would have flipped a coin, or asked Varis if he had any preference.

But he was stalling. “But, yes, while Summoning does seem like an exciting challenge, I actually ended up going with Mental magic,” he finally answered, outwardly composed but inwardly bracing himself for a negative reaction.

_{Sheepish with @Achronum and gang}

Scion: Children of Light

Radaam frowned slightly at the response, glancing to the ground. “I wouldn’t say I struggled with Divination per se, but it certainly wasn’t my very best subject…” He replied quietly. It wasn’t the most sophisticated answer, and even though the goal had been to find something in common with the boy (surely Radaam wasn’t the only one feeling a little uncertain about the whole ordeal, right?) he was starting to suspect it might not have been—

"And what's wrong with the Cult of the Phoenix, huh?"

Radaam nearly jumped, head snapping up to the bird just before he froze in place - what a coincidence - like a cornered rat. “Oh, no, I-I mean, I…” he stuttered out lamely, mind ablaze at his stupid, stupid blunder. What was he going to say, 'Oh no, I don't think the Phoenixes are bad, I'm just terrified of them'? It was either that or leave one of his new fellow Novitiates to draw his own conclusions and be (justifiably) insulted. Khotanebre’s apology did little to soften the blow; here Radaam was, worrying that Zahra would go and offend the wrong person, all the while she was the social butterfly and he was the one making a fool out of himself. What sort of ungrateful peasant was he making himself out to be?

“There you are!”

For a blessing, the interrupting voice was familiar, and Radaam visibly eased when he saw Khaemtir approach. Even having known him such a short time, Radaam had still never been happier to see the rollicking noble roll up in all of his overbearing glory. He made a mental note to have his mother give the cat an extra treat tonight for the luck she must have bestowed on him before turning his attention to Khae, immeasurably grateful to be released from his own awkward trap, even just for the moment.

“Butterflies under the moon? That sounds like quite a sight,” he replied, his excitement at a change in subject coming out a tad more strongly than was probably warranted. He cleared his throat, reigning himself back in. “And please, no need to apologize. Words were made to be shared.” He’d have to thank his mother for that line - another thing to add to his mental list.

---

Zahra

Zahra’s eyes were like medallions when she saw the absolutely outlandish display of feathers on the man who picked her up, and for a moment she thought he was some sort of giant magical bird rather than a man. She stared unabashedly for a moment, admiring the colours and patterns, before she came back to her senses.

“His name is Toruk!” she introduced the snake yet again, offering the colourful stranger a wide, proud grin. “He is powerful. He protects our family. But I’m not his boss, I’m just his favourite.” She whispered the last part, leaning in so the man could hear, though any secrecy was betrayed when she closed off the statement with a giggle. Meanwhile Toruk, even knowing the man’s compliments were only uttered to appeal to Zahra, still perked up a little bit with pride. “My brother is a Sorcerer, though. His name is Radaam, and my name is Zahra.”

She eyed the man once more, more deliberately this time, carefully considering everything from his hair to his feathers to his cloak and the pretty gold pin holding it in place before unleashing a barrage of inquiry. “What’s your name? Are you a sorcerer too? Is that why you’re dressed so funny? I thought the Sorcerers were supposed to wear white, but I think I like the feathers much better.”

_{@Scribe of Thoth @Dead Cruiser}

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron listened with interest as Lilith said her piece, a bit melancholy at the mention of Lucan but otherwise happy to hear someone speak with a bit more normalcy. “Mine just presents as a bog-standard secondary,” he replied jovially, holding up his left hand to show his ring. “I’ve been lucky, though. I’ve never had any trouble getting my magic to cooperate. I used to push myself a little too hard, but that’s another issue altogether.” He grinned as memories of minor magic burns shortly after his awakening resurfaced, not to mention the excitable talkings-to he’d get from Sariel afterwards.

He turned his head when Alex jutted in, and just like that, the conversation took off again. Before Aaron knew it they were on the subject of blood selling and show business, both confusing him and reminding him that Varis’ blood tasting with the other nobles was coming up faster than he’d prefer. He cautiously accepted the glass shoved in his direction, pleasantly surprised at the flavour as he considered his answer.

He wasn’t sure how realistic Hilda’s aspirations were, but he cautioned himself against rushing to his immediate judgement that she had her head in the clouds. She sounded like she wanted to be some kind of breadwinner, which of course on the face of it seemed ludicrous, but it occurred to him that he really had no idea what sorts of vampire-mage dynamics were common among… well, among commoners. Not every vampire was an aristocrat, he reminded himself. And she did have a point; he’d heard down the grapevine that mages were entering certain professions considerably more in recent years. Show business, as luck would have it, was one such industry. Aaron himself saw mages in shows and movies surprisingly frequently, a change he always attributed to the convenience of using actors capable of real magic rather than having to spend the money to add the effects in after the fact. The way Eris talked about mage actors made them sound more like exotic pets brought in to entertain co-workers than colleagues in their own right, but there was no denying their increasing prevalence.

“The industry is opening up,” he replied noncommittally, offering Hilda an innocent shrug. “Besides, you do see a lot of Primaries in movies. They can be very flashy if done well, and I think they appeal well to vampire and human audiences who don’t have a great understanding of the workings of more complicated affinities.”

_{Warming up with @Achronum and gang}

Scion: Children of Light

Zahra had opened her mouth to retort to her brother’s outrageous accusation, but fortunately for her, the pink-haired boy - Khota, she thought she heard the bird call him - raised a much more intelligently worded defense before she got the chance. “Yeah!” she added indignantly, crossing her arms at her brother with a haughty expression. “We were enlightening.”

Radaam paid her little mind, focus instead on the boy before him. He wasn’t sure he’d seen anyone quite like this boy before, with light skin and such brightly coloured hair, though given how rarely he ventured out into greater Photep, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, it was clear this boy wasn’t cut from the common cloth; Khaemtir was a noble and if he decorated himself in gold, then this boy was armoured in it. It was hard for Radaam not to stare at the cuff on Khotanebre’s bicep as he took his offered hand, solid gold and inlaid with stones he wasn’t even sure he could name, but it seemed no matter where else Radaam looked on the boy, similar gem-encrusted finery jumped out at him. Colleague or not, it was a little hard not to be intimidated. Radaam would admit he wasn’t well-studied on the strata of Photepi nobility - or really, any sort of politics that extended beyond the Red Orders - so who could tell that this boy and his family couldn’t sic half the Rehati on him if he stepped out of line?

But no, he had to stop thinking like that. If he froze like a cornered rat every time he had to speak to someone wealthy, he’d turn to stone before he even crossed his pyramid’s threshold. Admittedly, the job of manning up a bit was made easier by Khotanebre himself; Radaam couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at his mention of ‘superstitions’. He was well aware that Chenziri beliefs weren’t shared by greater Photep, but Aetheric theory may very well also have been regarded as a ‘superstition’ before the Aemeni taught its mysteries to the other tribes of Ea.

“Radaam Esi, Cult of the Crow,” he finally introduced himself, a bit stiffly but at least not as awkwardly as before. “And this,” he gestured to his sister, “is Zarha. Pleased to meet you, Khotanebre. And thank you for keeping my sister out of trouble.”

At the mention of her name, Zahra was all smiles again, rocking on the balls of her feet with hands clasped innocently behind her back. Radaam turned to her, voice gentler than before. “I need you to go find Ma and Da, okay? Get something to eat and rest a little while,” he not-so-subtly suggested.

Zahra pretended to consider for a moment, before heaving a dramatic sigh. “Fiiiiine,” she conceded, hanging her head theatrically.

Radaam smiled - at least, as much of a smile as one could get out of him. “Thank you. And you,” he shot Toruk a commanding glare, “keep her out of trouble.”

The snake shrank back in response, but tightened his grip around Zahra as confirmation. Instantly brightening up and offering a wave and a “Goodbye!” to Khota and Teken, Zahra bounded off into the crowd, in a direction Radaam was fairly sure wasn’t going to lead her to their parents.

“Eyes above me…” he murmured exasperatedly as he watched her go, though it was soon clear that he’d struggle to follow her and he was probably better off trusting Toruk and however many of the Khenetai were stationed around the Dijat to look after her. At least one of those could be relied upon to keep her out of too much mischief.

He turned a sheepish version of his stone-faced smile back to Khotanebre once she was out of sight, shaking his head. “What can you do?” he joked, hoping this boy had at least one sibling he could relate Zahra’s antics to before clearing his throat to quickly move on.

“The Cult of the Phoenix, you said?” he tried, his mother’s lectures about making conversation echoing in his mind. “I must say, I don’t envy you that. Then again, being called upon by the Cult of the Crow was also… unexpected.” He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling tightly. Yes, of course; not only was this a very rich Novitiate, probably the son of someone very powerful, but he was a pyromancer of all things. Wings on the wind, it was as if the guardians guided him to this boy just to force him to face his fears. “Were you much of a pyromancy student before this, or did the assignment surprise you, too?”

_{@Scribe of Thoth}

Scion: Children of Light

lol whoops

Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

<Snipped quote by Obscene Symphony>

oh my god i haven't thought about flight rising in YEARS

@Ammokkx

Apparently they're still kicking, I signed up on day one XD

Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

Nah. It's more common than you think, you just need to know where to look - a LOT of forum RP happens on forums that aren't actually dedicated to RP, for example. I started 7 years ago in the Flight Rising forums, and my boyfriend to this day RPs exclusively on Paradox Interactive forums, to name just two.

Also, don't take a perceived slowdown of this site as evidence of a decline. Firstly, the site goes through slow and busy seasons, and it's also entirely possible you're just not looking in all the right places. Secondly, I'd wager that half or more of the RP that happens here happens in PMs, not in threads, so there's that additional truckload of RP happening where you just can't see it. There's also a ton of discord and google docs rp - not technically "forum" RP, but written RP nonetheless. (Yes I know OP wasn't talking about specific sites but other people have, sue me)

As well, like someone else said, age is a factor too. I started as a young teenager and things felt way more active back then, but then again I have no way of knowing if they actually were more active or if it just felt more active. For all I know, my experience in the format and managing RPs and posting and all that might just make things seem slower because I've gotten faster at writing or otherwise more efficient with my writing time.

Plus, people tend to gravitate toward their own age group (generally speaking, obviously) so it's also possible things feel slower because your age group is now older with more shit outside of the internet to be doing.

I don't think forum RP is really going to go away, since at least for me, there's nothing else that scratches the same itch. Writing solo loses the fun social aspect of RP, and IM RP or D&D or in-game RPing or whatever don't give you the same narrative freedom. That might only be relevant to people like me for whom the actual writing part (not just the role playing) is the fun part, but I doubt I'm alone there.

Of Blood and Magic

Ah, there was the look of distaste he’d been expecting. Although, in all fairness, Ander’s feelings about Varis were understandable enough; Aaron wasn’t sure he’d have wanted to be in the same room as the Count either if he wasn’t the one serving him. He was a little skeptical of how Ander could think he was a ‘cool dude’ without ever having spoken a word to him, but he could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his head as he considered it, chastising him about refusing compliments. Still, the acidic thought popped into his mind that this Ander guy must not have been around the dining hall much near the start of the semester, or otherwise have been living under a rock all year not to hear whatever vitriolic garbage got the rest of campus looking at him funny. Maybe whatever people said about him wasn’t as ubiquitous as Aaron thought, but given how crowds parted anytime he needed to get somewhere, it could have fooled him.

But he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth—not yet anyway. After the night he’d had, it was probably worth it just to keep an open mind, go along with it, and potentially clear his name a bit and have a pleasant evening with some new people.

Potentially. He’d still keep an eye out for any sudden drops in temperature.

It didn’t take long to get to the library, and Aaron would admit that when the door to study room 6 opened up, he was taken aback. The flowering clearing on a lake at sunset was nothing like the bright, sunny beach where he’d met with Hannah; in fact, it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Growing up in the depths of Noila forest didn’t allow for much waterfront time, and while attending the Academy brought with it his first real-life glimpse of the ocean, this would still be the first time he’d seen a lake in the flesh. Part of him wondered if the water was really there, or if the room really did stretch out to the trees on the other side. If he had more time, he might be tempted to try and find out.

A screech of laughter turned his attention from the far coast to the picnic blanket full of people nearby, and Ander wasted no time tugging him toward it. He rattled off introductions almost too fast for Aaron to follow, the light mage certain he’d forget most of those names, but one was brought into sharp focus when Hilda piped up from the blanket.

“Wh— I— No!” Aaron stammered out indignantly, visibly flustered. Was that why Ander dragged him here? Just to verify gossip? That ridiculous rumour had been floating around since the first night of classes—Aaron thought people had moved on from it by now!

His left ear was flushed when he tugged on it, and he was just about ready to turn around and walk out, mostly deaf to the rest of the conversation as his suspicions about this little ‘chance encounter’ were confirmed. Oh yeah, it was all laughs and banter for them, the group moving on with introductions with nary a pause for breath. No skin off their backs when a man’s reputation was torn to ribbons, they just wanted to see the Starag monkey dance. It was bad enough when Varis humiliated him, but at least he had the authority to do so; Aaron wasn’t about to stand there and be prodded at for answers like a magic eight ball by a bunch of mages. He had better things to do tonight than generate the next round of rumours, thank you very much.

He very nearly walked out, too, before he clued back in to the conversation. Alex, at least, sounded like he had a bit more of a decent head on his shoulders. But as his embarrassment and anger started to subside, the rational side of Aaron’s own brain started to kick back in, and he took a long, steadying breath. Maybe he should just calm down a bit. No one on the picnic blanket was looking at him with anything more than innocent curiosity, and it wasn't like they were accusing him of anything; the ‘gossip queen’ of the group just wanted an answer from the source, and apparently she didn't even think the rumour was true to begin with. He supposed that was more consideration than most of the student body gave him. No one ever bothered asking him anything, they just made their judgement based on whatever nonsense they heard and kept their distance. Maybe he should be grateful for that.

“It was… a bit of a slog,” Aaron admitted, responding to Alex at long last and finally moving from where he'd been rooted to sit on the blanket. The sore spots on his arms reminded him of their presence as he unbuttoned his coat, deciding to give the group a chance. A small chance—he'd be out the door in a heartbeat if this turned into gossip twenty questions—but a chance nonetheless.

Gingerly pulling his coat off, he looked around at the spread. Fruit and cheese were scattered on plates between people, everyone looking quite at ease as they lounged on the blanket. His family had the odd picnic back home when they had their nights off during Revel, but those were a bit more… refined, to say the least, and definitely didn't involve anyone rolling on the grass—not since Aaron himself was a child, anyway. In fact, the only person who looked like she came from even remotely the same background as Aaron was the girl in black and white. Lilith, if he recalled correctly.

“It's nice to meet you all,” he belatedly greeted, offering a bit of a tight smile. Hopefully he hadn't made a terrible impression with his little crisis, but he figured it was best to just move on. “I'd introduce myself, but it looks like you all already know me.”

He grinned again, a bit more convincingly this time, before looking over to the modestly dressed girl. “Lilith, right?” he asked, “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but it’s nice to meet another Sound mage. I’m a Light mage myself—though I guess you guys probably knew that, too—but my aunt is a Sound mage, and I don’t think I’ve ever met another one.”

_{Skittish but trying with @Achronum and gang}

Scion: Children of Light

“Oh! There he is!”

Head snapping up from the spiced bread he was enjoying, Radaam was met with the sight of his parents edging their way politely through the crowd, smiles lighting up having finally spotted their elusive son. Not that he really meant to be; he had set off with the intent of meeting up with his parents, but the enduring density of the crowd made it difficult enough for someone his size to squeeze through that he figured it would be easier to stay still and let them find him. As it turned out, not a bad strategy—they’d spotted him in a matter of minutes, probably over the heads of other attendees.

“We were wondering when you'd have a spare moment for us,” his mother continued happily when they drew near, already fussing with his cloak.

“Hello, Ma,” he greeted fondly, meeting an amused look from his onlooking father. “And Da. How are the two of you liking the banquet?”

“It's just wonderful, Daama,” his mother insisted, leading Radaam and his father to a seat at a nearby table she must have spotted on her way over. Radaam’s father was visibly relieved to sit and get his bare feet off the hot ground—he'd lent Radaam his good sandals for the occasion—and it was clear from her smile and the way her wide eyes darted around the Dijat that his mother was having the time of her life. It really was heartening to see; she rarely got the chance to dress up, and she'd leapt at the opportunity. Her hair was intricately braided and her jade green saree (easily the nicest thing she owned) had been pressed and draped with utmost care—Radaam even thought he saw a few new lines of decorative stitching along the hem. His father, while not quite as pressed and preened as his mother, was still dressed to the occasion in a tunic similar to Radaam’s own and his hair and beard neatly combed and braided with a few ceramic beads.

Sitting pin-straight herself, Radaam’s mother smoothed out the skirt of her saree and leveled her son with her patented ‘tell me everything’ look. “But how are you finding it? Have you met your classmates yet? Did you speak to your teacher?”

Another look was shared between father and son before Radaam let out a fond—if exasperated—sigh. “He’s called the Magus, Ma,” he gently corrected her, “And they’re my colleagues. And yes, I did speak to them. The two studying under my Magus, anyway.”

His mother’s face lit up, his gentle chastising rolling off of her. “That’s excellent!” she exclaimed, beaming between her husband and her son.

Radaam chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he replied quietly, avoiding his mother’s gaze.

“And?” she insisted, not fooled for a second by Radaam’s obfuscation.

“And,” he continued, “one of them invited the other two of us to his, erm… manor after the banquet is over.”

“That’s great! I’m always telling you, you need to get out more,” his mother reminded him, utterly unfazed by the opulent wording.

“Yes Ma, I remember,” he offered a tight-lipped smile, looking between his parents. “Though, apparently this boy is a noble of some flavour, and his mother wants to meet the two of you before I go.”

The hairs on the back of Radaam’s neck stood up in the moment after he said that, both his parents’ eyes fixed on him, but this time, it was his father’s turn to break the silence. “What’s that funny look for, then?” he asked jovially, sharing an amused look with his wife. “We’d love to meet your colleague’s family.”

“Of course!” his mother chimed in enthusiastically, “and it’s perfectly reasonable for her to want to meet us. I would too if you or Zahra were bringing a stranger’s child home.” She chuckled.

Radaam relaxed a bit, laughing with his mother. Once more, he wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so worked up. Was it just him who felt out of place among the riches and finery? His parents couldn’t have felt like they fit in either, but they were making themselves at home—very much so, if the satchel over his father’s shoulder smelling of bread was any indication.

“I’ll find you two later on to meet them, then,” he agreed, looking around once more. “Where did Zahra get off to?”

“Exploring with Toruk, I imagine,” his mother replied, taking a cursory look around herself. After a moment, she pointed behind Radaam and added, “Ah, there she is there.”

Following his mother’s gesture, Radaam happened to spot a flash of Zahra’s clay-coloured dress through a gap in the crowd. Standing up for a better look, he couldn’t quite see her, but he did see a head of pink hair—how strange—near where she’d been, the boy beneath it looking startled. The hawk perched on his shoulder was all Radaam needed to realize that that must have been who Zahra was talking to, smitten with animals as she was. As the bird floated to the ground, Radaam spotted a hint of gold and white where it had been sitting; the boy must have been another Novitiate. Unfortunately, Radaam couldn’t claim to remember seeing him go up to the dais, as wrapped up as he’d been in his thoughts at the time.

Still, an uneasiness crept into his stomach at the sight all the same. Zahra was sweet and personable, but manners weren’t her strong suit at home, let alone among the top of society in the Dijat, and, well... she'd be hard-pressed to find others of their family's social standing here.

“I’m going to go get her,” he told his parents hastily, before taking off to nudge through the crowd at an excruciatingly slow pace. His parents weren’t nearly as concerned as they watched him go, but they paid it no mind; their son had always been a bit of a worrier, and anything that got him talking to his fellow Novitiates was a win in their book.

It took a moment for Radaam to make his way over, though his fears were realized when he saw the blaze of white across the boy’s chest confirming his Novitiate status. But come now, he really needed to relax; how much harm could a little girl do to someone his age, anyway? Surely no one in their right mind would take offence to the antics of a child of barely ten. If anything, Toruk was the one he should worry about; his satchel-searching habits would probably make a prime target for someone to accuse him of stealing, and Radaam didn’t need to be getting off on any more wrong of a foot than he already had.

Still, he approached the two, offering the boy what qualified for him as a friendly smile. “Hello, I hope my sister isn’t bothering you,” he greeted politely before turning a stricter gaze on girl and tutelary alike. “Zahra, it’s impolite to pester people, remember?” he reminded her.

_{@Scribe of Thoth}

Scion: Children of Light

Zahra

Zahra hardly noticed the boy’s falter, too busy lighting up when the hawk took the offered meat like she’d seen her neighbour’s falcons do before. She bounced on the balls of her feet as she watched him, immeasurably pleased that her little ploy had worked out. She didn’t even need help that time!

Toruk, meanwhile, was a little less pleased, tensing at the hawk’s cheeky little wink. He kept his eyes trained suspiciously on the bird, lowering himself to either curl protectively around his young charge or discreetly hide himself behind her; it was hard to tell which, and Zahra wasn’t paying attention anyway.

Zahra looked between boy and hawk as they had their little exchange, breaking into an excited fit of giggles when the bird spoke. “Yes, yes!” she replied exuberantly, braids bouncing with a quick nod. “He did great! He must be very smart. And pretty,” she turned her attention to the bird, leaning over to deliver her compliment. “Your scarf is very handsome,” she told him sweetly.

Straightening up, she turned a serious face to her brother’s tutelary. “Toruk, why don’t you ever talk?” she demanded, though she got little more than a bashful shrink out of the snake before he threw the hawk an equally accusatory glare for making him look bad.

The girl hmphed at the non-answer, but was all smiles again when she looked back up at the boy with the pretty pink hair. “A hawk family!” she declared again, suddenly remembering she’d been - sort of - asked a question. Crossing her arms and straightening up, her voice took on an overly-stiff ‘grown-up’ tone, imitating her father when he explained it in his stories. “Every family has a guardian, either a snake, a hawk, or a cat,” she explained, counting them off on her fingers. “You know, they bring you luck and protect you from evil! My family is protected by the snake.”

She held up the arm Toruk had coiled himself around to demonstrate. “This is Toruk. He’s my brother’s tutor-ary. Radaam says he was just a coincidence, but I’m pretty sure he showed up because we’re a snake family.” She grinned matter-of-factly before looking around, hoisting herself up on her tiptoes. Luckily even from her diminutive height Radaam was easy to spot, towering over much of the crowd not far off from them. She pointed in his direction, expecting the boy to know precisely who she was referring to. “That’s him over there. He’s a sorcerer like you!”

“Anyway,” she added, daintily repositioning one of her braids, “we’re a snake family, but I bet you’re like my neighbour. He’s a hawk family too - he even taught me how to feed them.” She perched her free hand on her hip, beaming triumphantly both at her excellent explanation and her suburb hawk-feeding skills.

_{@Scribe of Thoth}