- 89th of Spring, 519
"Quills down, class! We're going on a field trip!"
Madeira barreled into her classroom at the Dusk Tower in a flurry of red velvet and sharp, eager smiles. She all but threw her rucksack across her desk in her haste to leave, knocking over a length of black beads and a dozen heavy iron nails that crashed to the floor. The six alumni students, ranging in age from mid thirties to nearly sixty, startled at their desk, and indeed many quills were dropped in their shock. But they were not moving fast enough for their professor's taste. The gold and ruby flames that dripped from her ears and that rose in shimmering sequins from the hem of her dress flashed dangerously as she whirled on them.
"On your feet! I'll explain on the way, now, move!"
It still took a nod from the enigmatically smiling Aldagre Dusk, patriarch of the Dusk Tower, to get these powerful men and woman to reluctantly follow their eccentric teacher as she whipped out the door again.
"Miss Craven, what kind of supplies will we need!" a dark, powerfully built man called after her, his voice dripping with confusion and no small amount of annoyance.
"None, mister Royce, come along", Madeira's voice began to fade with the tapping of her slippered feet.
Scrambling not to be left behind, her small class piled out of the room and together the most powerful spiritists in Lhavit thundered out of the dignified Tower and spilled out into Zintia Peak.
Leth hung high and bright in the sky, shedding his silvery light on the sleepless city. The constant rain was in attendance too, dripping from eves and collecting in treacherous puddles between the cobblestone. Most of Lhavit was indoors, and strings of music and laughter could be heard from bright, inviting doorways. After a few chimes of buzzing past every hope of a dry, quiet evening, Aldgare finally voiced what the rest of the class were to wary to say.
"I believe we were promised an explanation, my dear miss Craven." The taller man lengthened his stride and fell in beside Madeira. "Can I inquire as to the purpose of this outing?"
Madeira was squinting into the dark, but was obviously not following her eyes. Another sense was propelling the spatially defective Avalad headlong to her destination. Her eiyon mark itched under her glove, and she massaged it with the thumb of her opposite hand.
"We have a brilliant but extremely time sensitive opportunity for education, sir. One we must act on if we hope to keep it. I have found a truly fascinating haunting at the Basilika while on my way to Sesr. Unfortunately by the time I sniffed it out the curator had already sent for someone else." A flash of irritation sparked behind her black spectacles. "So I plan to beat him to it."
"Him, as in Rothsam the Curse Eater?" Aldgare was watching her from the corner of his eye in a way Madeira immediately didn't like. Petching aurists. He could probably see exactly what vile thoughts that name conjured. Rothsam was the Spiritist of Lhavit, he owned the shop people came to with haunting, possessions, and miscellaneous ghostly activity. They had gotten on each others bad side the moment she stepped onto Lhavit, when he cornered harmless little Emma and nearly killed Allister in the ensuing fight. Since then the Myrian had an uncanny ability to show up wherever she may be, and knew things about her that she only trusted to her those closest to her. Their battle was escalating, as they both tried to get the jump on the other and their parallel careers. Culminating when he had tried to kill her by indirectly causing her fall from the skybridge, and she retaliated by making him piss himself with fear in a little magic show she borrowed from the moon god himself.
She coughed delicately, buying time as she composed herself. Acting against her emotions was coming easier to her, and being smack in the middle of a nest full of aurists made that particular skill painfully necessary. She adopted a smug, arrogant attitude in the tilt of her head and the contact of her eyes, rolling her shoulders candidly.
"Rothsam and I have a rivalry that goes back seasons. Don't tell me you disapprove? Such things can bring a wonderful sense of motivation as we strive to be better Spiritists. Perhaps I find his personality irritating and his technique barbaric, but he is a good spiritist in his own right. Unfortunately for him, I'm better."
Aldgare's eyes lingered a moment longer. While she couldn't hide her feelings for Rothsam from the master aurist, she could hope to muddle their meaning. If her acting was good enough she might be able to attribute her intense feelings to a spirited rivalry rather than all out war.
WC: 826
Madeira barreled into her classroom at the Dusk Tower in a flurry of red velvet and sharp, eager smiles. She all but threw her rucksack across her desk in her haste to leave, knocking over a length of black beads and a dozen heavy iron nails that crashed to the floor. The six alumni students, ranging in age from mid thirties to nearly sixty, startled at their desk, and indeed many quills were dropped in their shock. But they were not moving fast enough for their professor's taste. The gold and ruby flames that dripped from her ears and that rose in shimmering sequins from the hem of her dress flashed dangerously as she whirled on them.
"On your feet! I'll explain on the way, now, move!"
It still took a nod from the enigmatically smiling Aldagre Dusk, patriarch of the Dusk Tower, to get these powerful men and woman to reluctantly follow their eccentric teacher as she whipped out the door again.
"Miss Craven, what kind of supplies will we need!" a dark, powerfully built man called after her, his voice dripping with confusion and no small amount of annoyance.
"None, mister Royce, come along", Madeira's voice began to fade with the tapping of her slippered feet.
Scrambling not to be left behind, her small class piled out of the room and together the most powerful spiritists in Lhavit thundered out of the dignified Tower and spilled out into Zintia Peak.
Leth hung high and bright in the sky, shedding his silvery light on the sleepless city. The constant rain was in attendance too, dripping from eves and collecting in treacherous puddles between the cobblestone. Most of Lhavit was indoors, and strings of music and laughter could be heard from bright, inviting doorways. After a few chimes of buzzing past every hope of a dry, quiet evening, Aldgare finally voiced what the rest of the class were to wary to say.
"I believe we were promised an explanation, my dear miss Craven." The taller man lengthened his stride and fell in beside Madeira. "Can I inquire as to the purpose of this outing?"
Madeira was squinting into the dark, but was obviously not following her eyes. Another sense was propelling the spatially defective Avalad headlong to her destination. Her eiyon mark itched under her glove, and she massaged it with the thumb of her opposite hand.
"We have a brilliant but extremely time sensitive opportunity for education, sir. One we must act on if we hope to keep it. I have found a truly fascinating haunting at the Basilika while on my way to Sesr. Unfortunately by the time I sniffed it out the curator had already sent for someone else." A flash of irritation sparked behind her black spectacles. "So I plan to beat him to it."
"Him, as in Rothsam the Curse Eater?" Aldgare was watching her from the corner of his eye in a way Madeira immediately didn't like. Petching aurists. He could probably see exactly what vile thoughts that name conjured. Rothsam was the Spiritist of Lhavit, he owned the shop people came to with haunting, possessions, and miscellaneous ghostly activity. They had gotten on each others bad side the moment she stepped onto Lhavit, when he cornered harmless little Emma and nearly killed Allister in the ensuing fight. Since then the Myrian had an uncanny ability to show up wherever she may be, and knew things about her that she only trusted to her those closest to her. Their battle was escalating, as they both tried to get the jump on the other and their parallel careers. Culminating when he had tried to kill her by indirectly causing her fall from the skybridge, and she retaliated by making him piss himself with fear in a little magic show she borrowed from the moon god himself.
She coughed delicately, buying time as she composed herself. Acting against her emotions was coming easier to her, and being smack in the middle of a nest full of aurists made that particular skill painfully necessary. She adopted a smug, arrogant attitude in the tilt of her head and the contact of her eyes, rolling her shoulders candidly.
"Rothsam and I have a rivalry that goes back seasons. Don't tell me you disapprove? Such things can bring a wonderful sense of motivation as we strive to be better Spiritists. Perhaps I find his personality irritating and his technique barbaric, but he is a good spiritist in his own right. Unfortunately for him, I'm better."
Aldgare's eyes lingered a moment longer. While she couldn't hide her feelings for Rothsam from the master aurist, she could hope to muddle their meaning. If her acting was good enough she might be able to attribute her intense feelings to a spirited rivalry rather than all out war.
WC: 826
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