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Time: Noon
At noon, a bell began to ring. Those who took note would hear twelve distinct clanging peals, not precisely melodic, but not excessively clamorous, either. Certainly the bell was loud enough to be heard throughout the Academy.
Throughout the balconies of the student rooms, older students called "Lunch, firsties! Come to lunch!" There was good-natured laughter as they led the way, down the various stairs and through the nearest of the two doorways leading inward from the Great Hall.
Those in the left hallway took the first right, while those in the right hallway took the first left, and they all met in the middle, where another double door stood open.
The Dining Hall was a large room, longer than it was wide, with four pairs of narrow parallel tables down its length, and one perpendicular to them at the far end. As the students entered, the Chatelaine directed them: "Suns to the left, Candles to the right. First-years to the back two tables and please be seated. Suns to the left, Candles to the right--"
Luthien de Mendici, headmaster of the Liminal Academy, stood in front of the final table, the one that was perpendicular to the others. He was facing the two closest parallel tables, and equidistant from them both. When all of the first-years were seated at these two tables, Luthien looked the gathered students over, smiling slightly, his gold eyes gleaming with a warm light.
"Welcome," he said, his voice clear and precise. He lacked either of the local accents, speaking with neither the abridged and slurred diction of Shadowtown, nor the particular enunciations and cadences of Aeolia. "I am very pleased to welcome you all to the Liminal Academy."
"Though I have met most of you but briefly, it is my impression that you all have great potential, which I hope to see blossom in your time here. I will shortly ask you to introduce yourselves to your new classmates and teachers, so that we may all begin to get to know each other. Before that, though, it is my duty to inform you of the rules of the Academy."
"Firstly," said Luthien, "Many of you carry weapons, either openly or concealed. I would be the last person to fault this practice, but you should know that attacking a fellow student with a deadly weapon is grounds for expulsion, regardless of any actual injury sustained. Likewise for magical assaults of any kind. There is, of course, an exception made for drills and sparring under the supervision of an instructor."
"Secondly, there are many doors to and from the Academy. However, you are not permitted to leave the Academy via any door but the one you entered by, except under the supervision of a teacher. If you came from Shadowtown, you may return there via the left-hand door from the Great Hall, and likewise those from Aeolia may return via the right... but in either case, you are not to enter the other city."
"Finally, I expect you all to respect and obey your instructors, as well as the other staff members of the Academy. Some of you in the House of Candles are unaccustomed to having adult authorities in your life, while some of you in the House of Sunlight are perhaps more accustomed to giving orders than to following them. Nonetheless, I expect you all to make an effort in this area."
"And now, if you would each stand up in turn and give your name, and perhaps say something about yourself, if you wish." Luthien smiled, and gestured to the first of the first-year students, inviting them to stand and introduce themselves.
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When the Headmaster brought attention the the subject of weaponry, Peridot, not for the first time, felt the loss of her dagger that she had always kept on her hip in Shadowtown. The worn leather handle had been too big for her slight hand, and the indents from the previous owner's grip had been too far apart. However it had been her father's, one of the last items her mother kept when she was forced to sell their home and most of their belongings. She had always kept the blade sharp and polished, until her step-father had insisted that a young lady had no use for such an object. She had made one last plea, before leaving for the academy, but her step-father still refused to give it back.
At the Headmaster's mention of the doors leading to and from the Academy, Peridot couldn't help but look at the one that led to Shadowtown, her old home. It would be so easy to slip through, leave this place. She could begin a new life, on the streets. She shook her head to clear away those thoughts. It had been so long since she was in Shadowtown, she had forgotten the layout, and with no money to start out with she wouldn't survive long. As much as she loathed to think it, Aeolia was her home now.
The Headmaster finished his speech and the room grew quiet. None of the first years seemed keen to be the first to introduce themselves. With a sigh Peridot decided it was best for her to go and get it out of the way. She stood, and turned to face the Headmaster.
"I am Peridot Zircon." Simple and concise, with no elaboration, she sat down again.
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"I am John Mortimer."
He says simply, before taking a chair and sitting, his eyes once again scanning for the man who ruined his life.
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The red-head rolled her eyes at the curt introductions. She herself didn't want to give away much of herself, but still. Was this place just full of stuffy up-turned people who couldn't even be bothered to say what their favorite color was?
Internally frustrated, and with an act to uphold, April finally stood up, small bounce included in her step, and smiled widely, waving her fingers slightly. "Hi everyone! I'm April Summers. I'm from Shadowtown. I like flowers, and....well, any magic that any of you might have won't work on me. Nevertheless, I look forward to studying with all of you!"
Introduction finished, she sat down with a smile, hands folded on her lap. Bubbly personality established, as well as some sort of authority...now that was how you did an introduction.
Ellard
The red-haired girl spoke as confidently as he was nervous, and he could feel his knees shaking under the table. Public speaking was something he never cared for. Public anything in fact, was something he never cared for. He almost wished he had gone sooner, just said his name and be done with it like the others, but this girl, April, had set a new precedent.
Well, best to get it over with now, before people started adding more information. Shakily, Ellard stood up. "Um..." he started to say, starting to raise his hand and then realizing how foolish that was. Pulling his arm down, he looked about nervously before stammering out, "M-m-my...my n-name is...er...I m-mean...I'm...I'm Ellard...and...and, er...I...um...I..." he wasn't sure whether to add what his power was. If you could even call it that. What if the others tried to make him sneeze all the time?
"I...I like m-maps," he finally sputtered out, and hastily took his seat, ears violently red and the rest of his face starting to follow suit. He stared at his plate, hoping someone else would introduce themselves quickly.
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The Headmaster began a speech and, at first, it calmed Phoebe as she was beginning to find her place in this school. However, she stiffened at the mention of weapons. It hadn't crossed her mind that other students would carry them. She had very little knowledge of weaponry. Being homeless in her part of Shadowtown was only dangerous due to the weather. Her power could potentially be used as weapon, but she'd never really tried. Suddenly, the safety that she had felt dissipated.
When introductions came around to Phoebe, she still had the weapon issue weighing on her mind, but wanting to make a good impression, she smiled as she stood. "Hi. I'm Phoebe. I like gardening." After her short intro, her legs dropped her back onto the seat beneath her.
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"I'm Alina Rivers," she said, in a clear firm voice. "I'm blind, but I can 'see' magic. And I've been waiting to come here since I was seven."
She made a small bow towards the headmaster, and sat back down.
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The speech is not one already known to Cecil about the weapons; in many of the places he went about with his uncle, there were many a sensitive thing that needed protection. People, artifacts, objects of old and new renown...
But it didn't seem like he was going to have any sort of problem at all. After all, many of the student population were girls, and though it could be rumored that an angered vixen might create a crafty scandal, it was unlikely that anything more than a little wrong was done at this point. There shouldn't be any problems this early, besides that tongue-severing incident.
Concerning the teachers, Cecil had no real qualms about that. He obeyed his entire life when there came a need for it, and for obeying, he was rewarded an opportunity to not just survive, but thrive here, in this very Academy.
However, there was a question he had pondered in his mind...
After a few given moments of formulating it, he finally took his turn to stand and cleared his throat.
"I go by the name of Cecil Tudor, and I am honored to be here with you all," he said, though he was careful to put in only a little enthusiasm. Any more and perhaps one of those girls would pass him off as an artificial bigot. That wouldn't be good. But dammit all to hell, he was standing a little after his introduction.
"...I did have a question in mind for the Headmaster, though. I entered through the gates of Shadowtown, as my uncle wanted me to see the festivities of the town beneath the skies. But I am also one of the House of Sunlight. Am I to be directed to Aeolia from this point on, or do I continue to visit Shadowtown?"
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"In point of fact, the rule is intended to allow students to visit their homes, while preventing excursions into a city not their own. To the best of my knowledge, your uncle does not reside in Aeolia or Shadowtown. Under the circumstances, I'm afraid I must ask you to stay within the Academy, except under supervision -- unless you are able to obtain written permission from your uncle to visit Shadowtown."
He cleared his throat, and addressed the students as a whole, "This is not a priviledge granted only to Master Cecil, and I apologize for neglecting to mention it. If any Aeolian student gets written permission from their parent or legal guardian, they are permitted to enter Shadowtown. Unfortunately, the reverse is not true -- access to Aeolia remains limited to those who have residence there."
"Now, if there are no more questions, let us continue with the introductions."
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"Thank you all. Now, if the instructors would kindly introduce themselves, and say a few words about the class or classes that they teach." Luthien gestured to the table immediately behind him, where the instructors were seated.
A dark-skinned, darker-haired woman stood up. She was dressed in a white ruffled shirt and long pants, affecting a style more common to men, in Alyria. She wore a rapier and a dagger at her right and left hip, respectively, and moved with an unselfconscious ease, clearly accustomed to being armed.
"I'm Maya de Mendici, or Instructor Mendici to you lot." Unlike the other Mendici, her accent was pure Shadowtown. She also bore no physical resemblance to him, appearing to be of mixed Millennial Islander and Alyrian descent.
"For you first-years, I teach Self Defense. Y'got the option of taking my class, or taking one of Instructor Zhao's. He'll teach you how to fight. Me, I get to teach those of you who can't or won't learn to fight. Fortunately for you, children, I enjoy a challenge." She grinned, toothily. "Again, it's him or me -- you don't get to bow out. So I look forward t'seeing some of you in class tomorrow."
She sat down again, still smiling her slightly predatory smile.
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This was the famed Tristan Rephaim, a necromancy teacher of renown. For those who lived in Aeolia, his name could be faintly remembered on the news' headlines. For those who lived in Shadowtown, it was more than likely that they probably had seen his face during a soup kitchen or the like. And for those who descended from places of politics and adventurers, he was known as the Bane of Estra, the old empire.
At a glance, it was hard to say that he even knew Necromancy. Most of those who taught the controversial subject were men and women in their middle age, experienced and learned professors who sought eternal life. As for Tristan here...he was a child in comparison with the stereotype. His movements were casual and relaxed, but his face showed bitterness.
"...students, I'll get straight into it. For those who do know me, please wait quietly. For those who don't know me, I'll go over a brief synopsis of myself.
I am Tristan Rephaim, your Necromancy teacher. I will teach you how to re-possess the dead, if you're into that sort of macabre hobby. If you are taking this class to get into crime-related occupations, I will teach you how to communicate with the spirits of the dead. If you are using this class as a filler, then I'll teach you how to preserve corpses and thralls. I doubt anyone wants to really be a mortician, but niches do need filling. I cannot hope you will become a niche-filler. In fact, I expect that at least half of you will find no profit in this branch of magic. For those who come into this class with their heads held high, you will have your ambition rent to shreds. For those who come into this class without self-confidence, not even a single rat will obey your words. If you come into this class hoping to learn laughs, then take Illusion. This is not an empty threat, but if you cannot control yourself around the dead, the dead will not control themselves around you.
I am NOT your friend, I am NOT someone you should be friendly with. I will treat you with respect if you will give me that same respect. Do the same with your partners, unless you want me to personally see you to becoming a mortician. The only time you should speak with me is if it concerns about necromancy or vitaemancy, whether you want to apply your own principles or if you need review on a principle. I will not help you re-possess a thrall, I will not do any ritual for or with you without good reason and pay.
If you're interested, you can advance onto vitaemancy. A great deal harder, and it pertains not to the un-death, but to the concept of living. Unlike the deal with the monkey you saw earlier, you DO get to bow out of my class, as necromancers are hated in these parts and widely around the world. I will respect your want to live if you do not want to formally take my class.
And if you came here to kill me, it's a waste of your and my time."
He sits down, and takes a glance around the room.
"Y'want t'throw down with me, Tristan? Y'think I can't run you through before--" "Maya." Luthien's raised voice cut across hers. "Sit. Down."
There was a pause... and then she did, her lips pressed together, both hands gripping the table in front of her.
"Professor Rephaim," Luthien said, turning to him. His voice was perfectly level. "I believe an apology to my sister is in order." There was just the faintest emphasis, there.
His expression was as neutral as his voice, but his eyes glittered in the light... and the perceptive might note that there was no light present that could plausibly illuminate them to such a degree.
Tristan seems to be as difficult as usual this year...if not more so. It couldn't be because of the surprisingly absent Clarice, could it?
Maya chimed in, "Or don't. I'll take satisfaction by blood, if y'don't."
And indeed, it's no coincidence that the weapons Maya carries are common to duelists... though whether Luthien would really permit such a thing within the Academy is... uncertain. Especially when his brash younger sister is, in fact, without any magical talent of her own.
But he said, finally, "Very well. Let us continue with the introductions, then."
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"Please, please, my dear friends," He began, standing up, and clasped his hands. "It does no good to show such animosity with the students watching, even if it pleases me to no end." As his hands clasped, the two teachers' faces were conceleaed behind a large smiley face
"I'd rather you two do not show your facial expressions for now" He stated, grinning.
"But, alas, I must actually introduce myself, and not add wood to the flames of annoyance, as much as I'd like to." He stated, as he began pacing.
"Now, for the poor students who do not know of me. I am Atir Farouz, master illusionist, and, in my humble opinion, the best teacher in this school."
"As a teacher, my job is to teach. As such, I will teach you. But, that's not why I am here. As a Master Illusionist, I could be doing so many different things. Swindiling the foolish rich, for example. I teach, since it gives me the chance to do what I please. I follow my whims, and my only obligation will be to teach you."
"You can approach me, for anything, but I can not promise that I will do anything to alleviate a problem." He stated, as he sat back down into his chair.
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Chiming bells and a moving crowd gave Luken something to do. Tongues, locked doors, crowds...he was still absorbing. At the back of the long table on the left, he was glad to find out names, powers. Ellard was indeed a stuttery lad. Weak. And he confirmed his roommate Cecile.
When he introduced himself, he gave only his first name "Luken..." eyeing a few around him with a curled smile. He refused to let anyone have the upper hand on him. April's power did interest him though. Impervious to their powers? He kept smiling politely, imagining how he could test that as he took his seat.
But what flipped a switch in his mind were the classes.
In particular, Necromancy.
He'd never thought about it. At least not in the sense of actually being able to do it. Control them. The dead, in the ground, rotting, smelling, lost to this world...Surely anyone who could master that skill would be powerful, untouchable. Straightening his collar, his eyes flickered back and forth at the invisible possibilities before him. Forget water manipulation...he could have real power.
In fact, many of the classes intrigued him. Surprised, he folded his hands, laughing. Maybe he would like this place.
Glancing to Cecile, he muttered, "Should be a fun year," eyebrows high.
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"O-oh...I guess," is all his reply to Luken. It's hard to tell what he's exactly thinking behind that straight face he was making, but whatever it was that got him thinking disappeared soon after; his attention was redirected on the squabbling teachers, and he could hear a small scoff deriving from Cecil's mouth.
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"I am Milhera Zandras," she said, speaking with a quiet confidence that belied her youthful appearance. She had long brown hair and clear blue eyes, and her green dress was patterned with vines and leaves. "It will be my pleasure to teach the proper use of the natural forces, to those of you who wish to learn. Light and darkness, fire and ice, earth and wind -- all of these will answer to your call, should you learn how to address them. As for myself personally, I am always pleased to help when I can. Please, do not be shy about bringing your questions and concerns to me at any time." She smiled warmly at them all, and resumed her seat.
Next, a young man -- though not as young-looking as Milhera -- rose to face the students. He had short dark hair, and wore a long-sleeved, high-collared black robe. He regarded the students sourly for a moment. "Thomas White," he said curtly. "Healer." He sat back down without further elaboration or comment.
Finally, a dark-skinned man, heavily muscled and bristling with weapons, stood up. "I am Jan Zhao," he said, his voice deep and subtly accented, "Servant of Al-Monj, and teacher of non-magical combat at this illustrious Academy. To be more specific, I teach Unarmed Combat, Bladed Weapons, Blunt Weapons, and Ranged Weapons. As my colleague Instructor Mendici explained, it is mandatory for first-year students to take either a non-magical combat class, or self-defense. If you are undecided as to which might suit you best, please feel free to speak to either or both of us before you sign up." He inclined his head, and sat down, moving with a remarkable grace for someone so heavily armed.
Luthien nodded, and addressed the students again. "Unfortunately, several teachers were unable to be here. You will certainly meet them in the future, so for now, I will simply list their classes: Summoning, Alchemical Potions, and the Art of Magic. Now, does anyone have any questions about any of these classes, or those taught by any of the instructors present?"
After Luthien and the others answered any questions, lunch was served -- a well-seasoned stew, brought out in two large bowls per table, with stacks of smaller bowls for the students to serve it into. There were also baskets of fluffy round rolls, and butter to go with them. It was simple fare, by Aeolian standards -- much more the kind of thing you'd eat in a Shadowtown tavern, albeit one of the nicer Shadowtown taverns.
As the servers were still working on bringing out the food, Luthien said to the first-years, "After you've all eaten, please meet in the Great Hall, where you first entered, for a tour of the Academy. That's also where you'll find the class sign-up sheets, against the back wall. Simply add your name to the sheet for each class you wish to take. You may take up to six classes, although I recommend four or five. And since we cannot always arrange the schedule so as to provide everyone with all of the classes they wish to take, please put a star next to your name for those that are a particular priority for you."
"Now, please enjoy your lunch," he said, smiling.
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