It was impressive. The clear explanation of the applicant's reason for wishing to join. Kuvarakh found his own, somewhat dusty, interest in history piqued just by reading this application.
Unfortunately, there was no listed address or suggested meeting time or location. 'How am I to inform this person of an interview?' he puzzled. 'There must be something' he thought as he reread the application. He didn't want to let this slip by.
Clearly stated, the intent to "discover lost arts...forgotten after the Valterian"! That was perfectly in line with The Order's intent as well. And written ahead of time, with no prompting by someone trying to guess what he wanted to hear!
He looked again..."Profoundly interested"..."wish to study the historical role magic played..." It was perfect. Such people are a wellspring of motivation and ideas - lost strategies and approaches found in mummified old tomes. Does this person HAVE any old books of her own? Kuvarakh didn't care if she even knew any magic! She represented a resource. A spark! An asset that may surprise even the most experienced wizard.
'Think! Damn it!' he cursed himself. 'Where would someone be that was profoundly interested in studying history...we have no university here.' Then it struck him. The magnitude of his lack of insight left him shaking his head. 'We have no university, but we DO have a library!'
He turned and started towards the last spot he had known the library to be and found a stairway leading down into a cornfield. It looked to be well over his head, but at the far end was an ice cave with images of the library reflected on the inner walls.
Several hours later, he dragged himself free of the slush and stopped to rub some feeling back into his feet. His boots were mostly dry by now, but his socks were a lost cause. He wondered if this Saige had found her way in through the maze of sparkling mirror-like ice tunnels to reach the Sunken Conundrum, Alvadas' library.
He pushed his way through the wall of water and made his clumsy way to Hirane Morcer, the head librarian. He was glad she was at her desk as the furniture gave him leverage to stay upright in the water. Not needing to breathe, he grew no gills, but found it subsequently difficult to speak.
She guessed his difficulty and handed him paper and charcoal which, by the grace of Ionu, somehow worked well underwater. He wrote his request for directions to the history section and she complied with a quick sketch and a few gestures. He put his finger over his pursed lips in the classic "shhhhh" style and she nodded sternly in return.
He wrote one last note and headed in to the history section, eventually finding a Pycon female floating about halfway up one wall, book in hand. He tapped her shoulder and when she turned he held up his note, folded in half:
I am Kuvarakh,
from the Order of Transcendence.
Did you place an application for membership in our mailbox?