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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]
Hadrian began to sense the bad feeling through the lens of his auristic sense; a smoldering red, the smell of something gone off. It was its own sense now, but betimes it bled over into phantom impressions in his more mundane senses. But Vhast explained, which satiated his curiosity without him having to ask. To tell him of his own misadventures in the city of chaos? Well, perhaps someday. He didn't know him well yet, after all.
"I grew up in Syliras," he offered. "I was raised to hate all men and women of Ravok. I have failed in that."
He didn't say more for a few moments, letting that sink in. People were people to his mind. Rhysol's presence and that of the fabled Voice, the Ebonstryfe and the Black Sun, those could corrupt the people around them who hadn't the wherewithal to flee and survive. Perhaps one day Vhast would return to be a light in the darkness, or perhaps he would never return, instead cutting all ties with a black past. Hadrian did not presume to judge.
"There are bad people in Zeltiva, too," he continued finally. "We must all find our own ethical code and try to stick to it." He produced a key and opened the door to his office, which was modest and still hardly decorated but for a plant in the window, a few books and maledicted bones on shelves, a pair of clockwork men as yet unanimated. There were chairs, though.
"This is my office. You can often find me here, or at least slip a message under the door if I'm out. We can figure out a proper schedule at some point, though there will be frequent amendments. Many things cannot be properly scheduled in my life right now. But if you lose your way to the office, you can ask for directions. Most people recognize me now.
"Shall I show you to the dormitories now? I imagine you will want to rest and refresh yourself after the long, arduous journey."
Simply hearing the name Syliras evoked a visceral surge of enmity to rise up within him. It was a conditioned response given merit, and one Vhast quickly grew ashamed of in the moments of its ascension. Chances were good that what he’d been taught of Syliras had been either blatant lies or twisted truths. It seemed only logical given what knowledge Ravok had provided him in the past on Zeltiva that simply wasn’t authentic now. It also helped to know that a man raised from the city was willing to take him on as a protégé without much deliberation. Vhast felt the strong urge to emulate his mentor growing within him already.
“I was raised similarly,” he spoke more gravely, eyes glazing over as he looked upon his surroundings in quiet contemplation. He wanted to say more but the words simply wouldn’t come.
Thankfully Hadrian continued, perhaps more for his sake than to leave an awkward moment pressed between them. Vhast was left wondering the limits of his ethical code, hardly noticing that they had arrived though keenly aware of how the path they‘d taken to get there. The building promised not to pose too much difficulty of finding it in the future, the student’s gaze absorbing everything that proved more timeless than the rest. Hearing the door open, he returned his attention back to Hadrian and stepped in with him.
It was as much as he might expect from a professor’s study, though the lifeless beings governed by gears and cogs held his scrutiny longer than the rest; a curious oddity that perhaps he could bring up at a later date. Appraising the room with arms tucked behind him and lips pouched neatly together, he nodded in approval and turned to face Hadrian when he spoke.
Only when it was brought up did Vhast feel his own exhaustion pulling at the threads of dexterity and consciousness. So wrapped with attentiveness to his new life, he had hardly considered the physical ramifications of a long journey's end followed by a sleepless night. It was only natural for the rest of his body to follow suit, each muscle reminding him of the duress he’d quietly ignored until now. “Yes. I suppose rest is in order.”
The student almost didn’t want to say it. There was still so much he wanted to learn, still questions left unanswered. Sleep was but a trivial affair and one he would have rather done without. But a bed yet defined called out to him, inviting him from not so far away. No… He still had one question left unanswered.
Stopping just outside the door as the pair were about to make way towards the dormitories, Vhast pierced memory and time and forced himself to recall Hadrian’s name. “I’ve read something you’ve written in the past. An anthropological piece if memory serves. About… magic.”
Hadrian held Vhast's eyes for a moment as they shared that understanding between them; they were more than the sum of their cities' culture. It was a testament, perhaps, to the pure study encouraged by the Regents of the University that a man of Syliras might take on a younger man of Ravok as a student with a certain degree of risk and trust. Perhaps the Windoak touched even those Sylirans who were not knights.
At the mention of rest, he nodded. There were limits to the human body, and he had learned long ago to take care of his body or it would not support his mind or his soul effectively. He was about to set a date for their work together to commence, but instead led Vhast to the dormitories nearest their collegium, pointing out bits of architectural interest, oddments of student lore, and they agreed upon a time to meet at his office.
Then, before they parted, Vhast asked his question. Hadrian nodded.
"The thrust of my studies are the anthropological effects of magic, yes." He waited patiently for Vhast to come to his point.
Their walk through the city gave Vhast time enough to ponder, his stale glances and dulled hearing showing only a mild interest to what insight Hadrian had to offer. Sleep was ever the more pressing factor, the student’s posture beginning to sag and his breath coming and going in drawn out wafts of air. What little attention he could devote to his thoughts without stumbling face first into the flagstones was given to the elusive mystery serving Hadrian’s identity, a yawn gaping his mouth wide as he thrust a hand to cover it.
But then, quite abruptly, it was time for them to part ways, a mutual agreement made for when the two would meet again. It lifted Vhast’s spirits to know his existence was again serving some purpose, the glimmer of life peaking back into the corners of his moss covered eyes. A smile drifted to the cheerless state of his features, and he straightened the rags of his burgundy vest down his abdomen with a stiff tug. A second wind was just what he needed to pose the question, though the answer was hardly revealing. Still, it inspired him enough to a sudden realization. The dawning of understanding was a palpable fixture upon his features.
“I read your dissertation on the effects of magic on society! You offered a theory on the djed storms that happened last season if memory serves.” He paused for a moment, allowing the information to sink into his searching eyes that wavered over oblivion. “Do you… Do you really think Ivak has returned?”
"Oh, no. My dissertation was published two years ago, well before the djed storms. You might have read my paper on collected observations along my travels from Avanthal to Zeltiva. That was only this season... I didn't realize it had made it to Ravok so quickly. Hm." He paused, thoughtfully. They were outside the dormitories now.
"The Everwinter City melted despite the presence of Queen Morwen. The Seers of Mura seem to think so, though an Azenth with whom I traveled seemed to grow more despondent and introverted as time went on. That would suggest otherwise, or it might have been that Azenth's personal problems and not a reaction to any movement on Lord Ivak's part."
He gazed at Vhast, gauging his sudden interest against his obvious exhaustion. With a tight smile and an awkward pat on the shoulder, he urged him into the dormitories. "We can speak more on this soon. For now, you should sleep."
Once inside, he spoke to the doorman, and then to one of the supervisors, introducing Vhast and letting them know he would be staying there, paperwork from the Registrar pending. If anything went amiss, he would be personally responsible, and Vhast could wonder at the Syliran professor's kindliness, seeing it was weakness or whatever else. But once it was all arranged, he turned to his new student.
"Well, is there anything else before I leave you to your rest?"
Enlightenment quickly switched to a mind addled by confusion, the sharp textures of his countenance knitting tightly together. “No, it must have been Nyka,” his thoughts materializing into a hoarse whisper as his gaze shot off to the side. While to Hadrian this may have been little more than an amusing distraction from the meat of their conversation, to Vhast it was all he could think about. There was still a mountain of knowledge left to be climbed it seemed.
Led into the dormitories with a pat on his shoulder that was decidedly foreign to him, the young man’s civility with the doorman and supervisor seemed less than courteous, a mixture of returning fatigue and the gravity of his thoughts compelling him to pay little mind to those he would be relying on in the future. Only hearing Hadrian’s voice did the sombre haired student break from his state of preoccupation. “Uhh, no Professor Aelius. And thank you for everything. I look forward to when we next meet.”
Though his manner was no more than a natural accessory to ten long adolescent years of training in etiquette, Vhast’s mannerisms seemed more forced than usual as he took a stiff bow. Turning to the supervisor with the stoic expression of a man more concerned with finding a bed than exchanging pleasantries, Vhast disappeared into the halls of the great dorm in the old woman‘s wake.
His room was perhaps the size of his pantry back home, two beds covered neatly on opposing sides and pressed into the corners. There was no décor to suggest that either of the beds were occupied by another student, the faint smell of lemon clinging to the sterile air. Hearing the sound of metal being placed gently on a table close to the door, Vhast looked back to see that a key was being left for him should he require getting back in.
Without much in the way of saying goodbye to one another, the supervisor left him with a soft click at the door. Light coming in from the casement windows was fraught with the haze of the afternoon sun, warmth spilling over Vhast’s entire body like thick pillowy blanket. He’d left his pack with the innkeeper at the World’s End Grotto, its weight something of a burden he was pleased to have gone without. He’d have to retrieve it later, but right now all that called to him was the invitation of the bed.
Slaking off articles of dust ridden clothing while each step drew him closer, Vhast eventually made it down to his skivvies before freefalling into the cushioned white depths of the mattress. The moment his head relaxed upon the pillow, his conscious thoughts quickly unraveled.
Lore: Zeltiva University: Registrar's Office Vhast Proctor: Student Vhast Proctor: From Ravok Vhast Proctor: Questions About Ivak Gaining a Student Zeltiva University: Dormitory
Vhast's Loot :
Skill
XP Reward
Observation
+2
Lore: Zeltiva University: Registrar's Office Hadrian Aelius: University Professor Hadrian Aelius: Vhast's Mentor Hadrian Aelius: Grew up in Syliras Hadrian's Office Zeltiva University: Dormitory Hadrian's Thoughts About Ivak's Return
Lovely thread by two very talented writers. Couldn't give too much XP because it was generally a socialization thread, but do enjoy your lores. I'm thinking this is a start to an excellent relationship between mentor and student, and I can't wait to see their future discussions... I especially want to hear more about their thoughts on Ivak's release! If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me!
by Vhast on August 4th, 2012, 5:51 pm 
