Admission of a Scribe

[Rigil Kentaurus]

74th Day of Spring, 510 AV

It was during Rigil’s last burst of speed towards the city of Zeltiva that he fell over his saddle. Why he tripped was rather evident. There was a large hole in the middle of the road.

“Woah, woah,” he called out to soothe Synaree. He pushed himself off the ground, his blue cloak stained with the residue of dust that gathered during his travels. His dark green eyes were narrowed under the light of the sun, yet he wore his blue hood over the long mane of his blonde hair. It also covered the curving green horns that crowned his head. “Easy, girl. We’re here.”

He crouched down to study Synaree’s legs, his gaze falling over their sinewy limbs. Fortunately his usually reliable steed had not been injured at all. Just hopeless riding on his part, he mused.

Leading Synaree into the city, he finally entered it and made his way through the streets, his footsteps falling heavily against the cobbled stones, the salty tang wafting into his face from the sea which he was all too familiar with. He grimaced, his eyes narrowing slightly while he continued to walk.

“We’re here, Synaree...at last,” he sighed in relief, his voice calm and soothing, as though the ocean itself brought its own rhythmic notion of tranquillity. Rigil stood there, waves of people passing around him to head to their own prerogatives. It was only a few chimes later did he see across the horizon the University in which he had come from stood.

So he made his way, the repetitive hooves of his horse clip-clopping against the ground, beating up a staccato rhythm, holding his scribal kit in his hand, the leather strap crossing his shoulders while Synaree carried the rest of his large and heavy backpack.

[Hadrian]

The amount of research that Stonemiller required of him was, in fact, prodigious. He only stepped out of the College of Magic now for a bit of fresh air, though he might go in soon to find something to eat at the cafeteria. Luckily for the students, there was that; the rest of Zeltiva lacked restaurants, making eating at home or the occasional in the only other options.

Though Zeltiva had its share of cosmopolitan elements with its thriving seaport and the University that drew people from far off places, it still wasn't exactly common to see an ethaefal riding into town. Hadrian gasped when he saw Syna's beloved, shining in the sunlight. Their beauty, especially when hitting the eyes out of nowhere, was overwhelming, and for a moment he hoped it was Caelum, finally come back from his travels, but he did not recognize this one.

He watched. Some might say he stared, but he was trying to grow accustomed to being in the presence of a fallen celestial before speaking to him, or at least burn out his vision like a sunspot so that he could maintain a semblance of decorum. His reaction to the fallen avatars was not sexual, per se, though his first encounter with Caelum had caused some uncomfortable self-examination. No, though some people--young maidens and old, married women especially--channeled that awe into their nethers, but to Hadrian it seemed almost an echo of whatever ecstatic experience those ethaefal had felt in the presence of their deities.

A little flare of jealousy stabbed into his guts, but he ignored it and approached.

"Hullo, sir," he called to the ethaefal. "Welcome to the University. Do you require any help?"

[Rigil Kentaurus]

Coruscating beads of sweat glimmered upon Rigil’s forehead beneath his hood. To be sure, the sweat was not granted source by the heat of the sun but by the long travels he undertook, wandering around the outlying villages. As the Ethaefal walked on, making his way through the crowd, at first he was completely oblivious to Hadrian nearby staring at him.

It was the neighing of Synaree that alerted Rigil and he flicked his gaze towards the man. Earthly green eyes studied the figure approaching him. The seemingly tall human was around his height, Rigil noted. His eyebrows knitted down into a semblance of a thoughtful frown. When Hadrian called out to him, he stopped and dipped his head to the student.


“Good day,” he replied, his Common had no accent, which usually surprised people. It was a refined voice, which accentuated his clarity and serenity within him. A faint smile lingered upon the edges of his lips. Taking in Hadrian, he was confused why this man out of all the people had come to him. A servant, perhaps? Throwing that thought away, he then cleared his throat.

“Indeed, good sir, help is exactly what I need,” he spoke, chuckling aloud in that amiable manner of his. “I have just arrived here, so to speak. I have come to seek more knowledge from the University of Zaltiva. Would you be able to grant me some more information or to lead me to some place where I can find it for myself?”

He looked at Hadrian expectantly, tapping his foot on the ground while his fingers bunched over Synaree’s reins.

[Hadrian]

"Well, many of these buildings are part of the University," he said, indicating the pre-Valterrian architecture of the Old Quarter. If you want to sign up for classes, you would speak to the Registrar, who could also help with any questions you might have... But I've been a student here for a few years so I might have some answers, too."

The last was offered up half out of kindness and half because he was sure that the ethaefal had secrets within them that might be shared with the people they had left behind. Now that they were back, shouldn't they want to share divine lore with the unlucky scabs who had not yet ascended into the gardens of the gods?

"I can try anyway."

[Rigil Kentaurus]

While Hadrian spoke, Rigil’s eyes wandered around to take in the ever changing surroundings. The constant flux of people moving around hither and thither provided his own twisted and rather obscure sense of entertainment. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, nodding his head to Hadrian.

“Sign up for classes?” he mused aloud. “Indeed, I have been thinking of doing such. I came here....what was it now? Over a year ago, to be sure. Still, I only was here for a fleeting moment. Tell me, how are the philosophers here? I have this desire to learn all I can about the nature of society as a whole.”

He smiled thinly, looking at Hadrian in that curious manner of his which conveyed his own deep yearning for knowledge. Still holding Synaree’s reins, he waved his hand towards the University.

“Lead on, my friend, and perhaps we can talk as we go along. Trying is one thing, but I’m sure an intelligent student like yourself knows the difference between success and failure. Is there even a difference at all?”

Rambling words seemed to part from his lips, and yet there was a semblance of wisdom in every single syllable he spoke.

[Hadrian]

This one seemed loftier than Caelum somehow. Curiouser and curiouser. He nodded and turned to lead him toward the Registrar's Office. It wasn't so very far, but he was curious to see what the ethaefal would do if he took up residence in their city. Silence fell for a few paces as he thought about his answers.

"I haven't taken any philosophy classes here," he admitted, "but from what I understand, the professors are brilliant. I mostly read philosophy on my own... I don't have time to take every single class that interests me. Sadly. I have studied philosophy with regard to magic here, though. But that's within the College of Magic.

"And... well, I've always learned more from failure than from success, but I still strive for success. You just can't see an end as anything but another beginning. Everything's cyclical or circular... Huh, I guess that's philosophy, isn't it?"

He grinned.

[Rigil Kentaurus]

As Hadrian walked on, Rigil pulled on his steed’s rein and turned to follow. The silence was bearable. In fact, silence had become his closest companion ever since his arrival within the realm of Mizahar. It brought about its own form of clarity and peace which he personally thrived in.

“Philosophy and magic?” he enquired, turning to look at Hadrian while he pondered over this. “I know there is much to study in magic, but I never assumed an actual class of philosophy and magic was taught here. Otherwise I would have stayed longer to learn. This...this is most interesting, my friend. Yes, what you are describing is an ouroboros, where the end meets the beginning. That is philosophy indeed, albeit everything is philosophy, if you ask me.”

He returned the student’s grin. It was a moment later though as he ruminated over Hadrian’s words that he paused.

“Wait,” he called out. “Since my interests also lay within the realms of personal magic...projection magic, to be accurate, perhaps I should look into this College of Magic you mentioned. What can you tell me about that?”

[Hadrian]

"Everything is everything," he said. "I once knew this actor who said that he fell in love with the theater because it touched on everything within the realm of human experience: history, psychology, science, magic, dreams... everything. I study magic because the djed is omnipresent. It's everything too. So... I suppose I'm agreeing with you. Magic is everything. Everything is philosophy. So it follows by the transitive property of equality that magic is philosophy too... It's all connected."

And from what he understood from other ethaefal, the interconnectedness of all things was more clear from the celestial realms.

"Ah, as for the College of Magic, well, there aren't classes on everything, but there's the regular curriculum and generally there are a few visiting professors every year. The Registrar can tell you what's available right now. Perhaps you could teach me some projection someday..."

[Rigil Kentaurus]

Narrowed eyebrows indicated the extent of concentration and thought Rigil seemed to be putting into Hadrian’s words. A soft thoughtful hmming sound permeated from his parted lips as he pondered. Their walk was a slow pace, embroiled within the verbosity of words that they tangled themselves into like all those who had a keen sense of yearning for knowledge and sharing it.


“Everything is everything, indeed,” Rigil echoed and this time a smile crested itself upon his face, his lips twisting slightly upwards upon the edge. “The Djed is indeed distinctive when one comes to study, albeit I have never truly undertook any vigorous study on that subject, something I wish to remedy as soon as possible.


“It never ceases to amaze me just how much one can learn about this world, Sir. Unfortunately, I too, am still learning the basics of Projection, but I suppose once I am settled down here, we can teach each other. Is that a deal?” he said, looking out towards the sky as he spoke. However, his gaze lowered and as he heard the clip-clopping hooves of his steed, he frowned thoughtfully. “And yet so much are we into discussing philosophy that I forget to introduce myself.”

He laughed gently at that, grinning at Hadrian. Then he provided a gentle bow of his head towards him and cleared his throat.

“I am Rigil Kentaurus,” he finally introduced. Then he looked at Hadrian, evidently expecting a name in return as they walked along towards the Registrar’s Office.

[Hadrian]

"Hadrian Aelius," he said, returning the favor and the information. "And I am always happy to learn, and to teach."

Indeed, he did like to learn and to teach, though he felt that the only thing he was qualified to teach was magecrafting, and from what he understood of the ethaefal, that was not something in which they had more than passing interest. Caelum, to be sure, would seek out anything that might lead him back to Syna, but from what Hadrian knew of the ethaefal, they were drawn more toward the ecstasy of spiritual communion with the divine than the fruits of dedicated mental exercise. Thus, shamancy seemed more suited to those fallen avatars, but perhaps if Izurdin, god of industry, had ethaefal of his own, they might gravitate toward magecrafting.

But this was a futile line of thinking; if this Rigil Kentaurus wanted to learn magecrafting in exchange for another magical discipline, Hadrian would most likely trade. He wanted knowledge and he wanted a greater ability to interact with the fundamental forces of creation.

And who knew: perhaps one of these ethaefal might let something slip that would lead to a glorious epiphany.

As they approached the Registrar's Office, he wanted to slow his pace so as to draw out the discussion, but he would do what he had promised and lead him to the Registrar. Perhaps some other day they could continue this.

"That's the building over there," he said, pointing. "Registrar Sanderson's office is inside."