Saint took brisk strides through the hall, his long robe lighting tapping the floor as he hurried into his office. Waving his staff around a number of papers fell into line as he hurriedly looked for his paper. Finally finding it upon his desk he grabbed it and whisked back down the hallway. Almost sliding around the corner, Saint had not lost a step even at his growing age. Finally he arrived into the pleasant courtyard, where the trees were in blossom and the students were taking their seats.

Saint got up onto a wooden stage and pounded his staff on the ground three times. A loud boom erupted each time, sounding like an explosion. Instantly the students became quiet, all of them straightened in their chairs and all hi-jinx quickly ended. "This is the year 1480, and the start of another school year. We all know our purpose, we are here to learn how to use our magical abilities that were endowed to us by the creators so that we may protect Humankind from the darkness that is trapped within the portal some thirty miles down the road. For centuries we, members of the Imperiatical Society have stood guard in both the Magical and Human realms protecting the light from darkness. For centuries we will continue to stand on watch. That is why we need you, students of light, to train and learn the ways of magic, so that you may one day stand guard to guarantee the safety of all. It is with that in mind that we welcome this years class of one hundred students to the Imperiatical Academy of Magic. " Saint read allowed from the hastily scribbled speech that he had so desperately needed.

"It is with that greeting that I welcome you to another year, and I hope you all with have one of the best times of your lives!" Saint said as he motioned to the older students. "Each group of ten younger students has been assigned an older mentor, not only will he help guide you with your magical powers but he will show you were you live, the best things to eat, and how not to get in trouble!" Saint said with a warm smile. "Classes will begin in the morning so have a good nights rest and be prepared to see the wonders that good light magic can give you!" Saint said as he departed the stage. Immediately students and teachers were scrambling about to find their places. The youngest students seemed especially confused at first but then they were corralled by the older students and taken off to the dormitories.

"God damn. Another school year already?" Abigale let out a long breath and closed her eyes, gently pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbed it. "The years seem to be going by faster and faster." Dropping her arms to her side, she looked up and smiled. She may have been feeling older, but she loved what she did. Some of the students wore her down to her very last nerve, but no one is perfect. Rolling her shoulder, Abigale walked down the hall and continued to rotate her left hand, a small ball of wind gather itself, rotating and creating a small roar as the air gracefully weaving in and outside of itself. There were professors moving in and out of the halls trying to get ready for the students, and to get their papers in order. That only made Abigale laugh to herself as she entered the courtyard where the students were gathered waiting for Saint to make his entrance. All of the older students were calmly chatting amongst themselves whereas all of the students were looking around awestruck. "Oh, I remember those days," she mumbled.

Clenching her fists the ball of air dispersed in all directions. Walking to the very outside of the ring of students, Abby nodded and waved to many of her former students. Some very skilled, others who had a hard time with the element of wind. Which she couldn't blame them. Wind was very hard to harness. Especially when they try to master the tornado. Finding a large oak tree, Abigale walked to it and rested against the tree and folded her arms. Just as she did she saw Saint walk out on stage with his staff. He slammed it on the ground three times. Many of the young students jumped at the volume. Abby smiled and shook her head at them then looked up at Saint.

"This is the year 1480, and the start of another school year. We all know our purpose, we are here to learn how to use our magical abilities that were endowed to us by the creators so that we may protect Humankind from the darkness that is trapped within the portal some thirty miles down the road. For centuries we, members of the Imperiatical Society have stood guard in both the Magical and Human realms protecting the light from darkness. For centuries we will continue to stand on watch. That is why we need you, students of light, to train and learn the ways of magic, so that you may one day stand guard to guarantee the safety of all. It is with that in mind that we welcome this years class of one hundred students to the Imperiatical Academy of Magic. It is with that greeting that I welcome you to another year, and I hope you all with have one of the best times of your lives! Each group of ten younger students has been assigned an older mentor, not only will he help guide you with your magical powers but he will show you were you live, the best things to eat, and how not to get in trouble! Classes will begin in the morning so have a good nights rest and be prepared to see the wonders that good light magic can give you!" Abigale applauded and laughed out loud as the students began to scatter. The new faces were very refreshing. Bright and full of light. But there were others who looked hurt as well. But that would change here. And she knew it.

As the students separated Abby made her way to the foot of the stage and looked up at Saint and smiled. "You see winded my old friend. Lose your papers again?"

Sitting slightly of to the side with some of the other teachers, Gammelt Blisand couldn't help mutter to himself as Saint the head master gave this years opening speech. "Not the best predominance hes done. I think hes running out of material." As the head master ended his speech Gammelt rouse to his feet. He wobbled a little bit before he righted himself with his walking cane. He muttered some under breath curses at his old injury but continued walking down the courtyard.

Moving quickly despite his limp steps he reached the side entrance and hollered over the noise of the crowed. "Alright, alright everyone back to your quarters. Men's dorms are in the East wing, lady's in the South. Follow your dorm heads they get you set in, they should be the older students with the green arm bands on." He began waving his hands around in an effort to direct the students. "Come on, come on keep it moving. Curfew tonight is after nine, anyone caught in the halls after dark is getting an earful. You two, your dorm head is over that way follow him. Lets go, lets go your room number should be on the dorm posted board when you get there." He continued to do crowed control until the courtyard neared completely filled out.

It was another school year already, huh? Ulrich smiled slightly. He, like many other older students, lived in or around the school all year round. His parents were too far away and too poor to put up with him every Summer. Sure, they were better off than most commoners, but they weren't nobles or merchants. He missed his younger brothers dearly as well as his mother. As for his father... They hadn't spoken since he left. He looked over at the younger students, smiling slightly. This was likely the first fortress many of them had ever seen for that was what the school was with its high walls and high stocks of food, weapons, and supplies. Of course, it was good to be busy again...

He glanced around, frowning slightly. Where was Shiro. He hoped his fellow senior student didn't skip out on the announcement, not when they were both supposed to mentor the new students. It would be so like him. Before his thoughts could continue, however, he heard a a loud boom. He looked up to see that Saint had arrived and was giving his speech. He had heard it before, but there was always a chance he might add something new for the year if there were any new developments with the Imperiatical Society or the Darkness.

As the speech finished, he glanced over at the younger students before shouting amidst the whispers that erupted, "Alright. I am Ulrich Stein, all students assigned to me come with me!"

He waited a bit as the younger students began to sort themselves out, the ones that could read checking their parchments while the others tried to remember the name of their mentor. Ulrich was pleased that a few of the students he was mentoring found him right away. One kid, however, English from his accent, asked, "What did he mean by Creators?"

"The Imperiatical Society has no state religion, existing outside the authority of any particular kingdom as it is. Thus, all faiths are welcome..." he began. He saw the indignant look upon the boy's face, the familiar sign of religious intolerance. Thus, he weas relieved when he heard Gammelt's announcement. He smiled slightly and said firmly, "But we should get to bed. Come on."

He went about gathering the rest of his group and headed for the dorm he was sharing with them. Inwardly, he sighed. He had forgotten that he wasn't much of a people person.

The room was covered in shadows, a pitch black darkness that deified any attempt to peer into it's seemingly endless depths. But even as the mind began to despair at the darkness engulfing everything, killing even the notion of thought, a solitary island of light bloomed within that darkness. A beacon of hope that seem born of the desperate hope for something other then shadow. A perfect circle of exactly 13 candles, their white wax holding a faintly pleasant odour as it burned. The light revealed hardwood floors, bare of anything. And so to was a inhabitant of this shadow draped world shown, somewhat tall and leanly built the figure was of unmistakable Asian descent. From the refined facial features to the wisdom only the ancient kingdoms of the Far East could imbue shining in those strange grey eyes the heritage was obvious.

Clad in a long red coat of silk he shone with the candle's light even as his eyes became darker pools, taking on the shadows colour. In his hands was a long curved blade, shining with the craftsmanship that spoke wonders about the worth of it's wielder. This blade was a Katana, a sword all knew as both works of art and absolute lethality incarnate. It's scabbard bore a Mon, a family crest, of a family utterly unknown and yet infamous among certain circles. Pitch black was it's lacquered wood surface, just as the raw silk cord wrapping the hilt was.

Closing his eyes the figure drew the Katana from it's scabbard, twisting at the hip and knee as he did. The shining blade described a prefect circle at exactly the same height as the candle's flames. And in an instant the shadows returned, the light extinguished by the blade's keen edge.

A few moments later the light returned driving the shadow to it's own realm. Seven lamps placed along the walls showed the truth. A bare room of hardwood floors and a small bed, the only other items being a small wardrobe and numerous weapon racks. A small area, set up with the candles was bare, otherwise the weapon racks dominated the room. Everything was on display, the Long-Swords of knights, the Claymores of Scotland, Battles Axes of the Vikings, The Recurved bows of the Desert Dwellers, The Pikes of Infantrymen, The Glaives of poor folk, The Artistic Death of Katanas, The quiet elegance of Chinese Fencing swords, and knives and daggers in every shape and form. If it killed it had it's place in this collection.

This was his private sanctuary, this figure clad in a red coat. Here he retreated to practice the arts of combat known only to those who bore his blood line. The skills that were a legacy of his family, a legacy with which he only bore a small part. For he was torn from it before the teachings could be fully given. For the world had changed a great deal since the days of his forefathers.

Demons had come to Earth, let loose by the folly of man, given shape and form by his sins. And as there is an equal and opposite reaction to every action Angles had descended from Heaven, to aid man in his most desperate hour. Of course talk of Demons and Angels were soon put to rest. And the truth was made known to the multitude races of men, better they had died that day. For their saviours soon became their masters, demanding much in return for their services. And the mantle of hero was soon cast from them, humanity began to despair as greatly underneath their saviours as they had under their foe's claws. Children torn from families, taxes raised to pay for their Saviours whims, and forced recruitment into a war no one in their right mind wanted to fight.

Magic, once a fairy tale was now the lifeblood of the fight. For the gift was now the reason one was drafted into the army, nations once powerful and independent were forced to hand over their mages. And that is why he found himself here today, fighting for a cause he held no real belief in. Though like any veteran soldier soon stopped thinking about such things, and indeed stopped caring about it. One reason to fight was as good as another, and in the end that was all the race of men was good for. Weapons would be unsheathed for any number of reasons, this was as good of a reason as any.

Putting the Katana back upon a stand the red coat clad figure instead went to a stand set upon the head of the bed. Upon it's shape rested two Wakizashi, long daggers that were commonly used to commit ritual suicide. Their unique stabbing abilities and ease of use however share them favoured not only among the Samurai who used them in such a manner but also among those who lived a dark life. Shinobi had long favored the Wakizashi for exactly the same reasons, it's ability to thrust clean into any number of items, most notably the stomach and neck muscles. Even when protected by armour a swift and strong thrust could cut through. And like all Japanese edged weapons the Wakizashi possessed a edge keen enough to slice through even the air itself.

Hooking the long and curved daggers onto the belt at his waist the man of apparently eighteen, judging from his face, left the armoury of a bedroom behind him. The door opened up to reveal a quiet paradise crafted of a still pond and small plants placed in a somewhat odd order. A water sculpted rock dominated this 'Zen' garden while numerous bamboo trees surrounded it, though at the far end a path had been cut through them.

A pebbled path lead from the door to that opening in the fence the bamboo trees made. The stones were smooth and shining black, obviously from the flow of water. Walking with a unhurried grace the Asian made his way down to the opening, his every step seeming to echo with the confidence only those who master themselves ever achieve. But as soon as the gateway was passed the subtly of the garden were left behind.

And reality, in the form of the buildings the Saviours had ordered crafted hit him. Here in these cold stone halls they, the child soldiers, were educated and indoctrinated as he like to see it. Here was were the lies and secrets of their new lives were thrust upon them with the same brute force of a raider raping a virgin farm girl.

" Kusomajime uso tsuki." He spoke, a fragment of his native tongue spoken in a harsh and yet laughing tone. The words, a comment on how this place acted, summed up perhaps his entire thoughts on the place when he allowed himself the luxury of an opinion. Nonetheless this place and it's lies were his home, as much as the thought was distasteful it was undeniable. The chains binding him to this place forged of the very supposed gift he had been born with.

Shaking off the thoughts his words invoked he willing entered the belly of the beast as it were. The school such as it were was positivity bustling, the halls crowded with the faces of students both new and old. Their faces showing exactly what they thought of this place and the mission they had no choice but to accept. Some, he liked to think of them as fools, showed a pride in what they were doing and what was being done to them. Others like himself hated the very idea of having to save the world, and doing it against their will. The newer students showed anger,sorrow, and emotions deeper still as the full truth of what was about to happen began to sink in. This last group truly earned his pity, he remembered all too well the price that had to be paid. He had watched for years now as poor helpless children were educated in the horrors and duties of war. Things that would break full grown men were the standard around here, and sometimes the Asian half believed their Saviours delighted in the cruelty inflicted upon the new students.

And this new crop of students arriving to began their life long imposed duty did little to dissuade him. Be that as it may was a new year, with all that meant attached. And hurrying alongside the crush of students the Asian made his way to the courtyard of the school, a beautiful façade that hid the ugly truth for a moment, but only for a moment.

The new students filed in, the unblinking terror and anger of sheep being lead to the slaughterhouse written large on their face. The older students were equal parts sympathetic, disgusted, and even gloating in one or two cases. A buzz, not usual in a crowd this size, began to fill the area as the arrival of the Lord and Master had yet to happen.

"A hell of a thing huh Shiro." A large and very blond student asked him, clothed in full plate armour save for the helmet, he made a imposing sight. Even more so due to his very deep and loud voice.

" It never fails to inspire when a new crop comes in." The Asian now known as Shiro replied, his voice heavy with his native accent. For English was a tongue he care nothing for, viewing it as the product of idiots who didn't know what tongue they wanted to speak. Too many words were of origins other then English, it was in Shiro's mind the bastard offspring of every other tongue these white skinned people spoke.

" Think Lucifer'll give one of his inspiring speeches like he always does." The large blond student replied with a hearty laugh. Lucifer was a term the students of darkness had tagged onto Saint, the immortal in charge. For Shiro and other students of darkness saw past the lies he spoke, it was hard not to with their mental talents. And even those students of darkness that didn't also didn't buy a single word, the writing was on the wall after all. The rest of the student body for it's part view their use of Dark magic with suspension. After all they were here to fight the darkness, not join it.

Then the buzz died down as Saint walked on the stage, showing off as he usually did. His words were the standard fare, stale as old bread from the number of times Shiro had heard them. Then the buzz started up as students rushed to obey the orders they were given with the Senior students breaking the new students up into the ten men groups Saint had ordered. Shiro though a senior student felt no need to obey, if he was going to be forced to fight a war he'd be dammed if he was going to be a slave to the grind. Frankly Shiro found it odd that the supposedly ancient immortal didn't realize by now that he wasn't going to obey to the letter, that obeying to the spirit was as much as Saint could expect from the vast majority of them.

" Shinjimae." Shiro added with faint smile at the departing leader of this school under his breath before making his way through the crowds, classes would be starting soon. And the horror story of the new students would be interwoven with the story already being told.

Saint left the stage and walked over to an old tree that was rustling in the wind. Placing his hand on it a small symbol carved into the tree glowed with bright light... soon the light grew bright and brighter before the entire tree was engulfed in blinding white light. Moments later all of the light shot into the sky and streaks fell back down to earth exploding into fireworks. This event startled, and then amazed many of the students that were standing around, causing a number to break out into cheers. A new neat little trick every year Saint thought to himself as he walked away from the tree smiling.

Slightly startled by Abigale's comment after having launched the display, Saint whisked around. "A slight bit, and it is not nice to make fun of an old man like that!" Saint said. "However much I would love to chat I have matters that I must attend to right away. Stop by my classroom tomorrow morning, we will be putting on a display for the new students." Saint said with a wide grin as he walked away from the girl.

As he strode back towards the school he noticed the looks of despair on some of the students faces. Shaking his head, Saint knew these students well, the students who studied the darkness. Viewing the world in which they lived through much different glasses then Saint and his cadre did, these students tended to view others with great suspicion and every advance as violent and untrustworthy. The magic they wielded was both powerful and unwieldy, as it was comprised partly of the Darkness that they were training these students to fight. However the darkness they had was far more pure then the darkness they were to fight. This darkness was pure magic, not muddied or twisted that sought to use it to destroy humanity. While Saint wasn't particularly fond of this type of magic, as he used purely light, he realized the potential of having dark magic students and teachers around as they would be the first to feel that darkness as well as be able to understand the differences better then anyone else... including himself. While light was good at banishing darkness, light was never good at understanding it, which is why these individuals were quite useful towards the cause of keeping the human realm safe.

Saint discussed many topics with the teachers of the dark magic, and knew the thoughts of their students well. The darkness took a toll on them as well as their mental capacity, in turn these students tended to be more reserved, more angry, and more morose. But they were still excellent magic wielders and that was what was truly important, keep building a defense against the darkness... and if necessary prepare for another invasion. That thought broke Saints thoughts... another invasion. He had lost several of his friends and best warriors in the last confrontation with the evil that seeped from that portal. Saint had always wondered why the creators would have created something so evil, then create the humans for it to feed on... it just made no sense to him but the Society had assured him it was not his concern and while Saint was a contemplative man, he did not question the Society when it came to the grand matters. He had given up his seat upon the grand council to remain here among the Human race so that he could make sure that they would be able to live in peace.

Having finished this inner monologue with himself he noticed a number of the students he was just thinking about studying the new students and making rather snide comments... Saint smiled to himself and suddenly disappeared. Reappearing behind Shiro he put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Another year Shiro, good of you to join us!" Saint said with a wide grin on his face. "I would like you to come to my class tomorrow for the new students, in full battle armor if you would, I would like to demonstrate both light and dark power. Professor Ralamn recommended you as the perfect candidate." Saint said before disappearing, not giving Shiro time to give a response.

A bright light flashed up from Saint's display. Gammelt had to rub his eyes and grumble at the irritation. "Alright, now that old nut is just showing off." The elder professor finish rubbing the irritation out of his eyes and took one last stock glance about the courtyard as it neared finished emptying. He noticed that a small of students were apparently wandering about still confused with none of the senior students directing them. He did a mental check on where they were seated and what who was assigned to watch them.

"Shiro" He groaned. He had butted heads with that particular student a number of times in the past. Shiro Nakamura was a student from the far east, and had some built up resentment over the years toward his apparent 'imprisonment' in the academy. Gammelt could understand the boy's anger. Being taken so far from ones home and forced to learn how to fight for a cause he didn't believe in simple because of an agreement between leaders of foreign nations would probably leave any man feeling a little sore. Though it was unlike the boy to abandon a task like that.

Casting another look around Gammelt spotted the Asian pupil. Unfortunately, Saint had already caught up with him. The Professor groaned. "Is that twit trying to provoke the lad?" It was no small secret that Shiro and a good portion of the students of the dark element held some distaste for the headmaster. Gammelt decided to just leave the two alone. If he tried to re-prime the student for skipping out on his task now he'd probably just get irritated and think the staff was gaining up on him.

Spotting the nearest student with a quick glance he yelled. "Ulrich" He waved to get the German boy's attention. "Can you take care of that group over there as well? Their guide is a little indisposed at the moment."

The light show was impressive. Truly, light magic was among the most beautiful of the disciplines, though he had never chosen to study it. The wind called to him and he was rewarded for his faith in it. Speaking of wind, he searched for Abigale. She was perhaps his favorite teacher, probably because of her age and the fact that he spent the most time with her out of any of his professors. She had been the Senior student in his first year, when he was about 10.

Speaking of teachers, he looked up when he heard Gammelt shout for him. He looked from Gammelt to the kids and then back at Shiro, who had just finished speaking with the headmaster. He sighed That was never good. Perhaps it was the Japanese man's bitterness or the the fact that their personalities and elements were complete opposites, the two simply never got along. Well, the headmaster got along. Shiro simply fumed or, if he held his temper too long, exploded. He nodded at Gammelt and approached the children.

"Since your mentor is busy, I will lead you to your dorms," he told the kids, glancing over at Shiro one more time. He hoped that Shiro would at least try not to shove his bitterness onto the new kids this year. And that Saint would keep himself from antagonizing him. It was a good thing he was a praying man, he thought as he led them to their dorms.

Though the mental talents that Dark magic granted were not all encompassing the awareness of minds around a user of it's tainted power made it very hard to approach an acolyte unnoticed. And though Shiro even in his wildest dreams never thought himself the equal of the school's headmaster, Saint was nevertheless no exception to this rule. So it was with little more then a disinterested sigh he reacted to the sudden pressure of Saint's hand upon his shoulder. And a wonder of wonders a quiet chuckle of amusement as the man or rather immortal laid out the reason behind such an overt approach.

True to form the headmaster disappeared as quickly as the light he wielded with reckless abandon. The stares of the group assigned to him underscoring the rather amusing order rather nicely, the icing on the cake was Gammelt and a senior student...Ulrich if memory served right. They were looking at him as if trying to gauge how much longer the fuse on a powder keg would last. No doubt the open disdain he showed for the land of barbarians didn't help matters, he after all made no secret of his viewpoints and his wielding of Dark Magic didn't exactly endear him to anyone.

"Full battle armour, that's a good one." He said, gracing the world with the use of the English language as he threw back his head in a full throated laughing spell. Doubling over from the intense amusement his greys eyes dropping into the all encompassing black hue that singled out the core of power within him. The shadows were a subtle thing, the darkness needed not the shows the other elements indulged in. No flashes of light or lengthy spells, the only warning you got from a skilled acolyte was this shift in eye colour. Bringing his mirth into control he straightened into a normal standing posture as he left the now deserted courtyard.

Taking a hasty left he danced through the crowds rushing through the halls to their dorms, eager for all their varying emotions to have this over with already. The wind may boast of blowing through the things in it's path and the water flowing around them none could touch the Darkness's true grace. As he made his way it was obvious to the casual observer why Shiro had earned the nickname Dark Dancer. His steps even as he ran to catch up with the burden of duty were taken with the swaying grace of a ballet star, dodging good natured hits and confused new students alike .

Catching up with Ulrich he flashed a quick smile that seemed either a taunt or a simple expression of joyful greeting. Like so many things it depended on one's viewpoints, though his eyes in their black hue of power also seemed to tip the scales towards it being a taunt.

"Ulrich-tono right...?" Shiro asked, though any could see it was a rhetorical question,the use of the honorific seemed a joking added second thought" Lucifer is something else is he not. Full battle armour. Only idiotic Vikings think protection is worth trading speed and agility for..no offence of course Ulrich-tono" Shiro added with what was likely a insulting second take, though the smile made it hard to be truly sure. And as usual his heavy accent, the result of disuse of his English caused a few titters from the new students, it being a foreign one to these Europeans.

Shiro then twisted his head, the motion disturbingly similar to a falcon turning to eye a potential meal. " You have a problem with the way I speak your dog tongue." He spoke with a deadly cold tone as the black of his power deepened in his eyes. Then thrusting his hand out in a flat cutting swipe sent the students assigned to him flying back, tapping into one of the powers he commanded within the school of Dark magic.

"That is telekinesis my babes in swaddling clothes, a staple of any skilled dark magic user. With sufficient training it is more then capable of being used in any number of ways. For example with focused thought I can send a whole group of stupid dogs like you flying. I am not unreasonable but the next person who brings up my heritage in a negative manner will learn the next lesson the hard way."

The thrown students lay where they had been tossed equal parts ashamed, angered, and slightly terrified in more then one case. Shiro for his part turned back to his conversation with Ulrich as if nothing had happened.

" Ulrich-tono, I wonder why Lucifer is so stupid. Is he incapable of realizing the fact I do not fight with armour or does he simply want a reason to discipline me. I would not put it past him, sadistic son of a bitch that he is." Here as in the courtyard Shiro laughed as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world. The new students looked wide eyed at this Asian in his apparent madness, the other senior students wise in his ways paid him scant attention.

"No offense taken as I am not Scandinavian nor do I wear heavy armor myself. It is better to try not be hit rather than accept it as a fact of life, no?" Ulrich asked icily. He disliked the Japanese man's attitude, though he was not as easily riled up as some of the other students. He appreciated Japanese culture as well and had taken to having tea at least once a day, though he disliked Shiro's sense of superiority as well as his willful ignorance of the different European cultures he encountered.

He frowned a bit at Shiro's manhandling of the students but, rather than confronting him on it and probably ending up in a fight with him, he simply smiled at the students, "The Imperiatical Society accepts people of many different cultures, it would be wise to refrain from making fun of them while you're here. Nonetheless, I must apologize for Shiro-chan. As any among you who were not raised in an English household may know, the English language is complicated and requires an intelligent mind when learning it as a second language. Thus, you can imagine Shiro's frustration."

Ulrich smiled at Shiro as he drew a few nervous chuckles from the new students, already having gotten over his brief annoyance with his peer. Matching wits with him was always a good exercise and he truly respect the other teenager. He simply became annoyed with his attitude sometimes, though he did have some fair points.

"You know how Saint is. Believe it or not, he is not full of malice. He's simply childish in his old age. He is as fond of jokes as you are of your weapons collection," the German told him, annoyed with his nickname for the Headmaster but seeing the sense of it. He would never have known the devil's original name meant "man of light" until he arrived at this school.

"A slight bit, and it is not nice to make fun of an old man like that!" Saint said. "However much I would love to chat I have matters that I must attend to right away. Stop by my classroom tomorrow morning, we will be putting on a display for the new students." Abigale smiled at the elder man and nodded to him, taking a step back to let him continue doing whatever it is the man does. She shook her head at him as he turned and took off. Folding her arms she turned and began to wander through the students. The younger kids were in clumps some around seniors trying to figure out what they were supposed to do or where to go and then groups of seniors who were catching up.

Ahead Abigale saw one of her older students Ulrich chatting with the dark magic man and pessimist himself Shiro. Both were good students and very good in their elements. She slowly made her way over as the two boys were chatting. It was strange really; she was easily the youngest professors at the school ad she was even in class with Ulrich during her final year and his first year. Now she was training him and about to push him harder than ever before so he could graduate.

As she approached she heard Shiro going out about “Lucifer” again. Abigale rolled her eyes at the Dark magic students loving term for their Headmaster. Then a student went flying… "That is telekinesis my babes in swaddling clothes, a staple of any skilled dark magic user. With sufficient training it is more then capable of being used in any number of ways. For example with focused thought I can send a whole group of stupid dogs like you flying. I am not unreasonable but the next person who brings up my heritage in a negative manner will learn the next lesson the hard way."

The thrown students lay where they had been tossed equal parts ashamed, angered, and slightly terrified in more then one case. Shiro for his part turned back to his conversation with Ulrich as if nothing had happened.

" Ulrich-tono, I wonder why Lucifer is so stupid. Is he incapable of realizing the fact I do not fight with armour or does he simply want a reason to discipline me. I would not put it past him, sadistic son of a bitch that he is."

Abigale narrowed her emerald eyes on Shiro and with a flick of her wrist a vortex of wind shot from her right side, weaving in and out of the students and hit Shiro hard in the chest, the gust never letting up and holding him on the ground making it hard for him to breathe. In her thick Irish accent Abigale spoke loudly over the roar of the wind and the squeal of some of the kids. That is what we call ‘blow back’ kids. One of the very back attacks of those who are the master of wind, and Mr.Shiro here knows that since he is neither in class or a professor using his power to ‘teach’ you is against the rules.”

Letting her wrist relax, the wind halter all together and she looked at Urlich and smiled. ”Urlich, you really need to try and rub off on this guy. He’s gonna get himself into some trouble. Looking back to Shiro, she moved her left hand in a gentle circle and a ball of wind formed under his back and gently pushed him back to his feet. We all know you’re tough Shiro. But we teach by example and if you ever wish to graduate you need to accept that.

"We all know you’re tough Shiro. But we teach by example and if you ever wish to graduate you need to accept that."

Gammelt, having watched the whole affair gave a grunt, walked up, raised his cane...

SMACK

And lightly swatted upside the back of Abigale's head. "Maybe you should also listen too your own advise before you start assaulting the student's lass. There is such a thing as over-excessive discipline and hypocrisy." He grunted. The older professor had been observing, on ready too step if anything started too get violent. However Urlich had been doing a good job of diffusing the situation. That is until Abigale decided to intervene a bit more forcefully then necessary. "And what are the rest of you still doing here?" He shouted too the remaining students. "It's getting close to bed time. Get too your dorms now or I'll have a few of my familiars chase you there."

Walking over to Shiro he held out a hand to the fallen boy. "Let me help ya up mister Nakamura."

Events, like ripples in a pond spread out far beyond the source and given time become all encompassing. Their size and scope far outshining their humble beginnings. A simple holding of hands becomes a undying love, a first harshly spoke word creates bloody war, and even the noble cause of defending humanity becomes something else entirely. This was a fact of life the students of darkness were drilled in, till their every other thought was consumed with it. And Shiro, hailing from the land of the rising sun knew it for the truth as he felt the first touch of a wind based elemental attack.

There is only one here who would resort to such methods. He thought with a grim amusement as he felt the floor rush up to meet his body. And though he could in truth end this attack by simply absorbing it Shiro decided to let her rant, it was amusing enough even given his difficulty in breathing. Her words in his ears rang hollow, without any meaning, she knew nothing this young so called master. Well she knew her chosen craft enough he'd give her that. Arrogant he may be but Shiro was no fool, Abigale knew enough about magic to be in the position she was now. But no one, aside from Saint, truly knew what they were facing like the students and teachers of the darkness.

" Thank you Gammelt-sama." He replied in gratitude, genuine this time. Shiro saw in the man a residual understanding of the truth of nearly everything. Old age tended to do that in most cases, though not every one. He briefly considered the students that were under his charge before they were shooed away by Gammelt. The hall seemed far emptier without their presence. He then studied Ulrich, Gammelt, and Abigale with his still black eyes before releasing his grip on the darkness within. His pupils then regained their normal storm grey hue, a colour that would have earned him derision at home. For no pure blooded Japanese person has such an eye colour. But Nakamura clan did, and those few privileged to see and know more of them then the tip of a sword knew better then to mock such things.

"Tough, idiot vikings are tough Abigale-chan. Students of darkness possess a far greater gift, clarity of the situation." Shiro added with scorn laden laughter." But your beginning to bore me, cute as you are. Everything is this big old cause with you Abigale-chan." Here he threw up his arms before bringing them to rest at his sides and quite by chance it seems within reach of his weapons belted at his hips." You talk like I have a choice or any of us have a choice. But enough of such melodramatic affairs, there will be enough time for that when the Darkness breaks free of it's binding."

With that Shiro begin to walk away, his steel fronted riding boots glinting in the sunlight slanting through the hallway's windows." And Ulrich-san you win this round but the battle has only begun. Never thought a Saxon would outwit me." He threw over his left shoulder before resuming his laughter of earlier.

Ulrich sighed as Shiro walked away. As much as he admired and respected Abigale, he really had it under control at the moment. The way to get through to Shiro was through reason, he had found, not force. Making him question himself had far more effect on the Japanese student than giving him a good beating, satisfactory, though it may be. He couldn't help but wince when she was hit by Gammelt's cane, though. The old man could certainly hit hard!

"I see both still have your temper" he commented wryly.

"I see you both still have your temper."

Gammelt gave Ulrich a pointed look. "Temper has nothing to do with it runt. Some times somebody just needs to take a whack over the head to get your point across." He shot a slight glance at Abigale before continuing. "And what about you lad." He turned to face the German student. "I thought I told you to take this lot back to their dorms. They need to finish orientation dammit." The old professor gave Ulrich a few prods in the chest with the tip of his cane. "Get to it lad. You've all got class in the mourning and I've got to make my rounds tonight." He gave another sharp glance at Abigale. "And Abby, I want to give you a talking too in the mourning."

He turned away and limped off. Pausing only to make one final shout at the group of students. "And I was serious about sicking those familiars on ya. Caught a right nasty daedra the other day that is more then ready to tan yer hides if you're all not in bed before dark."

Ulrich sighed as he nodded in deference to the old man. It seemed that the cankerous old summoner was as gruff as usual. He respected that in the man, but he could be a bit overbearing. He turned to the kids that he was overseeing, now two groups, and nodded at them, "Alright. First thing's first. Nakamara group, I will lead you to your dorms first since Shiro has decided that he's too busy. Come now."

With that said, he headed for Shiro's dorm first to drop off his kids before he'd settle in his own group. He frowned. Why was it whenever Shiro was provoked, he cleaned up the mess?