Children Of Infinity (IC)

[Wolfenium]

Village, Muramasa
Seven Years Ago

Muramasa, a Cathedral locked between fire and ice. A frozen, mountainous wasteland perpetually covered in winter and dark ash skies, its inhospitable nature was matched by its violent, destructive eruptions, giving the planet its foreboding name by Kusanagi colonists. Barely a few outposts in the polar regions remnants of the failed colonial projects made by various Orders in the past, were all that remained in the vast, greyscale landscape. But for those who could endure its vicious conditions, it remained home, for better or worse. Of recent years, its scattered inhabitants had made a living off scavenging from the ruins and old wreckage. Many were from the insurgency left behind by Dragon Host and their opposing knight-errants, damaged chariots and Pegasii as well as equipment looted off the corpses of the dead. Some date back further to the colonization, though most of what was left were but ancient ruins of stone and brick. It was a difficult life to travel out into the toxic landscape outside, but few had any choice if they wished to survive.

Seated along the sides of a valley, one such village stood as the periphery of human civilization. Small huts, built from scrap and stone, held flimsily against the trickling snow above. Caves dug along the wall of the mountain concealed precious food stores from foraging, trade and mushroom cultivation, all that the villagers could hope to survive on in the absence of better farming tools and conditions. Larger smithies cluster around the shanty towns where blacksmiths process and recycled the salvage material for sale or personal use. In all, it was a harsh existence which few could follow, one that had been virtually forgotten by the distant, core Cathedrals of Aradain.

Huddled along the muddy road, a young, dark-haired girl in nothing more than a greying cloak silently faced towards the distant chasms across the valley. Haggard, pale and drained of life, the girl appeared unresponsive as passers-by nervously rushed past in front of her. Few shared whispers among themselves as furtive gazes tear away at the slightest instance of her notice. Her dull eyes locked into the distance, she appeared still as stone, staring into an endless abyss with no end in her sights.

"A remarkable sight," a voice calmly mused in amazement in front of her, "that such a desolate borderland would still yield such fine talent."

Raising her eyes a bit, the messy girl focused her eyes a pair of strangers standing before her, a man and a woman. They look nothing like the emaciated, monochrome residents of the village, as their brightly coloured robes and healthy skin contrasted with the grim atmosphere around them. It was not that hard to tell that they were off-worlders, especially the dark-skinned woman in the egg-coloured sundress, her equally raven hair wrapped in a pair of buns. But it was the man that proved the most striking, a blonde titan sporting a pair of dark shades. Dressed in a bright crimson vest and pants over a white inner shirt and boots, with a sheathed shamshir by his side, he appeared composed and proud for the onlookers who passed him.

"Get lost," the girl uttered in a sulk at the couple, "I'm not interested in any orders."

"Oh," questioned the knight with intrigue, "I never even asked and you've already took it that we're recruiting. This must not be your first time."

Narrowing her eyes a bit, the grime-covered child grunted, "strangers don't normally come to a place like this. Those that do aren't interested in anything else."

"That's not an incorrect assessment," the knight admitted, his cool baritone a hallmark of his character, "the only Redemit that ever comes to such remote lands are those branded by the dragons and those that hunt them. Strictly speaking, we fall into the latter catagory, but we are not here to claim heads. Or at least, she isn't."

His gaze shifting at his partner, he made his referral quite clear to the Muramasa-jin. While the dark-skinned woman was herself armed with an ivory trident, she did not look the part of a knight-errand at all. As she stepped forward to face the raven-haired girl, she quietly squatted down to meet her eye to eye. Her teal irises clear as day, she appeared keen to survey the child, a discomforting sight for the latter despite the woman's gentle features.

"I'm a scholar," she spoke to the child as the latter tried to avoid her gaze, "I can tell you have a great power in you. But you are clearly troubled by matters of the heart. Care to share it with us-"

"I don't need your help," yelled the angered child, putting up a fit as she stood up in frustration. Gritting her teeth, she took a while to realize her own burning temper as she tried to get a hold of herself. Looking away in relent, she spoke solemn, "sorry... It's just that I don't like it when people keep probing at me. I don't have a family; and I don't have a home. My power scares the villagers here. I can't stand it..."

"Is it because they called you a 'dragon spawn'," the blonde went smugly, his arms crossed as he leaned on the wall in front of her. Agitated, she shot back again, "who asked you! What do you know about me!"

"Mâykel, stop intimidating the girl," the woman defended her, looking quite concerned as she stood as well.

"I'm helping her confront her fears, Yasa," her partner stated calmly, "she needs to learn that people's opinions are theirs to air, not her's to accept. If she keeps getting defensive over it-"

"I'm not being defensive," the girl shouted, her temper raging as she waved off his verbal attacks, "what do you want from me, you jerkass!? Who gave you the right to probe into my business!?"

Shifting off the wall as he dropped his hands, the man slowly stepped forward to face her, a dominating air around him. His eyes glaring right at her through his shades, he proclaimed insistently, "when my wife sees justice to be done, it becomes my business. When I see something out of line, it become my business. When I see one of great potential wasting her life in this dump, it becomes my business. If you're not happy with that, then fight me. I'll shut up if you can beat me."

"Mâykel, stop it," Yasa tried to persuade. But as he held his shamshir up in front of her, he stated with conviction, "let me handle this. Don't worry, I won't leave anything too serious for you to heal."

"You're not going to use your weapon," hissed the girl angrily, "are you looking down on me?"

Smirking under his shades as his partner took his blade, he responded coolly, "far from it. I just thought I level the field. After all, you have no weapons. It wouldn't be fair if I used mine." Taking the time to observe the ill-tempered child, Mâykel toyed with her a suggestion, "how about this? If you win, we'll leave you alone. You can even try to kill me if you're up for it. However-"

"-if I lose, I come with you, is it," the girl interjected, quite eager to get the small talk over with, "this isn't the first time I was challenged. The last guy who bet with me like that was knocked out for days. It's not too late to back out."

"You talk tough for a maiden your age," the bemused warrior answered, chuckling a bit as he circled her cautiously, "you must not have faced very strong opponents before. Now, let me show you... the difference in experience!"

In a blink of an eye, the warrior vanished before her sights, the young lass awestruck as she was caught off guard. Her eyes darting rapidly, she tried to spot for any sign of the warrior, her mind trying to race for his apparent invisibility. But a sudden punch in the gut sent a surge of pain right through her nerves. Coughing up a bit, she realized too late that he was right beside her, sinking a punch into her stomach as her body lifted slightly off the ground from the impact.

"Why you," she cursed, a sudden surge of energy engulfing her body. In a split second, the shade of her black hair and eyes was overwhelmed in a cyan blue aura, evidence of her power taking form. Swinging her arm, a large whip of water condensed right in front of her, sweeping like a torrent towards her target in rapid succession. But right before her eyes, the warrior again faded in a blur of crimson. This time, however, she could tell what his strength was. He was fast, and ridiculously so.

'F-Fast,' she reacted in shock, 'that's three times as fast as the last knight I took out! But how-'

"You don't have the time to stand and think, girl," the warrior jabbed confidently again, this time swinging a bone-crunching kick into her back, sending her flying out of the alley and off the roadside cliff. Crashing into a shack just a few feet below, she quickly clamoured back on her feet, spotting the senior leaping off the cliff after her as she made a fierce barrage of water jets in his direction. But again, the warrior proved just how large their skill was, effortlessly dodging through her attacks in the air. Sensing her inability to keep up, he goaded, "it doesn't matter how powerful your attacks are if you can't hit me! In the end-"

Closing the distance as he slipped through a gap between her torrents, the warrior prepared to send a kick down right on her spot. In haste, she sent a water jet right below her upwards, propelling her off as the blonde's kick shattered the ground where she stood. Desperation creeping up on her, she began to condense the air again with droplets. This time, they began to freeze up into shards, firing in a wanton barrage at the pursuing red knight as he leaped up to deal her another blow.

"Get away," screamed the girl at the top of her lungs, firing the shards in a lethal hailstorm. Sadly, despite their numbers, the shards simply did not make their mark, flying harmlessly into the chasm as the warrior weaved around them with incredible precision. Unable to hold her nerves, she rapidly conjured up a large, blade-like shard. With a wild swing, she tried to make a swipe at the warrior as he closed in, no longer restrained by any reservations of drawing blood as she willed herself to distance him from her presence.

Sadly, it was not to be, as his figure faded into a blur a final time right as the blade streaked through. A cold whisper in her ear, 'futile,' followed as a stinging pain shocked the back of her head. Before long, her world began to turn black as she lost all sensation to her body. She felt like she was drifting to the floor, falling towards the blackness of her mind while a warm embrace held her back from the fatal plunge.

Chariot
Seven Years Ago

Stirring from her deep slumber, the young girl could not help but hear a faint hum ringing in her ears. It sounded artificial, like the circuitry of electronics churning in life. Cracking her eyes a bit, piercing shafts of light cloud her vision she could not help but wince. It was bright, far too bright to belong on the ash-filled skies of Muramasa. Instead, opening her eyes slowly, she could make out a blurred image of a woman looking down on her under a bright fluorescent light. It was the scholar from before, gazing down on her with a gentle smile as the girl rested on her elder's lap.

"Are you alright," Yasa asked of her, as the girl tried to recall her ordeal. She was quick to notice the bandages all over her, evidence of the blonde thug's trouncing. Glancing around, she made out a strangely modern bunk room, with a bed, cabinets and other amenities. But what was most striking was the window before her. An ink-black screen mocking greeted her presence here. It was plainly obvious she had lost her bet, but she never expected to leave right at that instant, despite having nothing but the cloth on her back to bring along.

"...ah..." she whimpered in resignation, feeling a bit downcast as she checked on her wounds. The woman clearly did a good job mending her injuries, even cleaning her up and putting a new shirt and shorts on her as well. It all seemed rather sudden to her, as if she had just been kidnapped. Of course, her feelings were not lost to the scholar herself, patting the child's head in apology.

"Sorry, Miss," she told the girl, "Mâykel... no... my husband, Sir Shirazi, isn't all that good with words. He has a strange habit of challenging others to a fight in order to understand them. But I have to say, he really did hold back."

"Why do you want me," she questioned solemnly, still rather put off by the loss, "is my power that strong that you have to challenge me to a bet for it?"

Hearing her grim query, the woman could not help but giggle. For some reason, the girl had said something weird to her, leaving the child a bit agitated. However, as the woman held her hands, she answered dearly, "silly... It's not your power that I want. Didn't he say before? That it's his business when I see something wrong going on? What I saw wrong down there wasn't a potential knight in need for hire. It's a girl in need of family. I don't believe any of those rumours are valid reasons to shun a struggling child. He was not wrong when he said you had the potential to be a knight. What he didn't say was that he wanted you to be our daughter. My daughter."

"Daughter..." blurted the girl in surprise, blinking at the unexpected answer. Was the woman telling her the truth? Was that warrior beating her up just so she would agree to be adopted? It seemed a bit silly, and too good to be true. But as the woman brought up a film picture to her, it showed her right in the middle of a pack of technicolour kids, most of whom did not resembled her or her husband at all. Looking up to her face to face, she told the child, "I love children, and the two of us run an orphanage for the Order of Xorshid on our home Cathedral of Mervarid. But fate has cursed me never to bear another child, and my only son, Mehran, would never have another sibling of his own blood. But we realize that a family does not have to be constrained by blood ties alone. Does it matter at all that a child has to be your own in order to offer your love to him? That's why I decided, that wherever we see a child in need of care, we will take him in as our own. We will not deny a child a warmth of a family.

Feeling rather muted, the girl had a bit of trouble processing. Not once had she ever asked for their help, and yet this bizarre duo went out of their way to drag her kicking and screaming to their home like gods. It felt odd to her, and rather discomforting. But there was a sense of warmth to the news as well, the first time she had ever felt anything of the kind in her life.

"You're rather selfish to abduct children like that, Miss..." she mused awkwardly, rubbing her arm as she thought over her explanation. Giggling again, the woman introduced herself, "Yasamin. Yasamin Shirazi. If you're that against it, you don't have to accept the adoption-"

"I'll accept," blurted the girl instinctively, looking a bit startled as she heard the woman offer her a chance to reject. Unnerved, the raven-haired girl rubbed on her long, now-washed hair, restating in embarrassment, "it... it wouldn't be fair if I went back on a bet. I did lose, after all..."

Noting the girl's rosy cheeks, the scholar could not help but laugh. She felt rather amused at the girl's flimsy justifications, all while the Muramasa-jin sulked at the ridicule. But to the child's bewilderment, Yasamin quietly embraced her in a tender hug. Before long, tears began to trickle down the child's eyes involuntarily, as emotions suppressed inside her throughout her isolation began to well up.

"Alright, alright," Yasamin said, "a bet is a bet. From now on, your surname is Shirazi. We won't force you to change your name, so care to tell us?"

Wrapping her tiny arms around the scholar's waist, the child blubbered in a weeping response, "S-Suiren..."

"Suiren, is it," mused the Indo-Xorshid, "that's 'water lily' in Kusanagi tongue, isn't it? In our tongue, it's called 'Niloofar'. You don't mind if we call you that, do you?"

"No..." she went, crying into her bosoms of her new mother, "I don't mind..."

Behind the door in the bridge, the blonde knight who had defeated her quietly listened as he held the steering gear of the chariot. Forming a faint, honest smile, he was quite glad that Yasamin had managed to coax her. Mâykel was used to pulling such unorthodox methods to force his way before, but for once, he was actually unsure that he was doing the right thing. To his fortune, it apparently was, allowing the girl to put behind her past and look forward to a new life. In the end, it mattered little to the couple who Suiren was. What matters now was who Niloofar would become.

Infirmary
Silver Hand Academy, Arcadia
Present

Waking on the side of Mehran's bed, Niloofar could not help but rub her eyes in lethargy. Vyna herself had long left, which finally gave her the opening to see her brother. Falling asleep by his bedside, it took a while for her to notice that he was out of bed already. As he quietly buttoned up his shirt, she could not help but feel a bit put off by the cold shoulder. Standing up, she questioned in agitation, "why didn't you wake me up when you're about to leave?"

"I didn't want to disturb you," Mehran stated calmly, a reflection of his father's aloof nature, "you seem to be having a nice dream."

"Shut up," she went in a pout, turning her head away in a light blush, "it's not you concern. Let's just go, brother."

Putting on his shades with a beaming smile, Mehran need not say another word. Gesturing at the door, he let the fiesty girl lead the way as he followed behind her out of the ward. Many things could set off the young Xorshid girl, Mehran included. But her words tend to have more bark when dealing with those she cared about.

---

"...So that's all I wanted to say. Congratulations on your duels, everybody." Aressa told the recruits as they all sat calmly in the tranquility of their common room. She no longer bore the golden robes of the aspirants and the pristine white uniform of the students, instead clad in a simple white shirt and a pair of black pants, having taken a moment to change upon arriving to the dorm after leaving the stadium. Her crimson hair was tied up into a ponytail and she had visibly relaxed after the solemnity of the welcoming ceremony and the accident that occured during the duels.

"Now, you're all free to change into something else if you wish, but bear in mind that, starting tomorrow, you'll only be allowed to wear civilian clothes while in the student floors or during certain holidays." She said, before hearing a light knock on the door. And as she moved to open it, she found herself face to face with the black-robed woman with the scar over her eye.

Stepping up to the back of the crowd as Aressa debriefed the students, the Shirazis merely held their silence as they listened in to their instructions. There was not really much to do for either of them - student life in the academies in Mervarid were fairly mundane as it were - and Mehran was sure his sister would step in if he went back to practice immediately after that stabbing. In any case, there appeared to be nothing more for them, at least until Aressa was interrupted.

"I see you've gotten along remarkably well with your charges, Alistar." The woman said, quite aware of and in fact amused by the sheer surprise displayed by Aressa's face at suddenly finding one of the instructors of the Academy in front of her door.

"A-ah... Miss Cyranis. What can I do for you?" The surprised aspirant asked.

"Oh, nothing much. Just show these late arrivals around, they'll be part of your group from now on." The instructor stated, motioning towards the three students that stood behind her, before patting Aressa on the shoulder. "Now then, I'll be leaving. Have a nice day." She smiled at the students, and departed.

Left behind with the three new arrivals, Aressa looked at Cyranis leave for a few moments before turning her attention to the three students in front of her. "Well, I suppose lunch will have to wait a bit. Come inside." She said, stepping aside to allow them entrance to the common room. "My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be one of your guides. The other one, Arcander, is currently with some other students." The aspirant said. "You may want to introduce yourselves or leave your things here so that you won't have to carry them everywhere. You're also free to change into more comfortable clothes, we have permission to walk around the school in civilian wear for today." She explained. "We were just about to head to the top floor to get something to eat, in case any of you is hungry."

Raising his eyebrow, the sunglass-sporting lad was rather intrigued by the sudden appearance of the recruits. Glancing back at Niloofar, he was sure she was the last to arrive. Regardless, he felt a small tinge of anticipation over their coming duels, though his injury had tempered his passion quite a bit. A quick look at Jynna's meeting with what appeared to be her brother, he finally began to make his way out of the crowd. There was nothing more they needed to do, rather disappointing considering his plans to observe the other duels right after he finished.

"Boring..." he mused, as Niloofar caught up beside him, "to be honest, even if you didn't come, I would have returned to Mervarid quite soon. As much as I'd like to take up their headmaster's challenge, I'm already feeling a bit awkward being here."

"You didn't seem that precocious when you were out in the arena, brother," grumbled Niloofar with a pout.

Peering at her through his visor, Mehran merely mused, "well, you're not really in the position to consider such trivialities when you're out on the field, are you? Isn't that why you lost Father's bet back then?"

Scowling a bit, the girl defended herself, "shut up! I was too stunned to react! Besides, how am I supposed to know he was a part of the Zhayedan!? I was eleven!"

"Do you regret it," joked the young lad, much to the girl's chagrin as usual. But rather than voicing her anger as usual, Niloofar could not help but pause at his words. "Regret..." she mused to herself, slowing down behind him as she thought over his words endearingly, "who knows... I guess I'm still waiting to challenge him... that 'Red Comet'."

She never imagined that she would be here, as a knight-errand in the company of a family member. There were times when she questioned if she really was a daughter of the Shirazis, whether any of their children, barring Mehran, had any right to claim it. But the family that took her in when no one else would dare look at her proved her doubts wrong. In Mehran's eyes, she was family. It was a trait few clans in Mervarid held, and one that quite surely saved her from a life of despair and destitution.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

After tossing Alfenn the seal, Aressa had to quickly step aside in order to avoid having Jynna collide with her, and watched with a slight smile as the blonde charged straight towards one of the new arrivals who appeared to be her brother, lifting him off the ground as she hugged him. The brother, Jonran, appeared to be in a bit of pain, much to her amusement. She turned her attention back to Alfenn as he made a comment while returning the seal to her. She raised her eyebrows at his words, wondering what kind of situation he was in that led him to make such a statement, though she said nothing about the matter, understanding that it was likely wiser not to pry and that if she was meant to know, she would, sooner or later. Catching the seal effortlessly, she raised it slightly. "I'll be keeping it in case you happen to need it for something." She told the child of the Black Cup. "It is not unheard of that some students lose or damage their uniforms, after all."

After Jyn and Jonran had finished their talk, Vyna had finished changing, and Rystan had at least acknowledged the others, Aressa stepped through the open door of the common room of her group's dormitory, gesturing for the others to do the same. "Very well then, I'm sure at least some of you are hungry after your journey and after the duels some of you decided to take part in, so our first stop will be the cafeteria on the rooftop." She said, her very demeanor a tad less strict and solemn than she had been during the ceremony, though respect and sincerity both remained, and in fact she seemed eager to take the students on their tour around the school.

Nevermind that she was hungry herself.

She took the recruits through the hallways of the student floor once again, leading them to the elevators and boarding one, though this time, instead of inputting some arbitrary combination of numbers, all she did was press a single button marked with the symbol of an arrow pointed upwards, encased in a circle and with three shafts instead of one. At the press of said button, the elevator began moving once again, shooting upwards through the floors of the Academy until it came to a halt shortly afterwards, its transparent walls vanishing to let the students on the elevator walk out onto a large, open space.

The rooftop.

All around, students of all ages and grades were seen, some wearing their glorified argent, crimson or auric robes while others were simply clad in civilian clothes, ranging from the mundane to the exotic and foreign. Nearby, on the grass, a group of students was sitting on the grounds having something similar to a picnic, though they were all eating different things. Not far from them, a pair of recruits, miffed by the school's regulations on the use of swords outside sanctioned areas, had taken to sparring with a pair of unusually long baguettes. One of them blocked the other's swing with a single hand before revealing in his other a hidden bread roll, which he pressed against his opponent's chest, ending the duel as one accused the other of cheating. Groups of students walked around appraising the statues laid out throughout the rooftop, while some others sat down near the refreshing fountains to enjoy their meals and speak with each other about their experiences at the Academy. Further away still, a recruit that Arogisl would undoubtedly recognize was getting into a somewhat heated argument regarding the existence of the legendary hero Vermilion. Elsewhere, a bloodrobe who had in a certain person's mind been described as a "big friendly giant" was speaking to another group of similarly dressed student, making a particular swinging motion and in turn watching another member of the group make a slightly different one, their discussion one of tricks and techniques. The void-garbed woman of fearsome visage was by herself as she leaned on the rooftop's railing and devoured what seemed to be a fried dough pastry sprinkled with sugar, supposedly originating from the same culture that gave the holiday known as the Feast of Remembrance to the rest of the Known Universe, and while this claim was uncertain, the certain thing was that no one seemed too eager to wander too close.

"This is the rooftop. As long as you have no classes to attend to and respect the curfew, you are free to come up here to relax." The scarlet-haired aspirant said with a broad gesture, before noticing, from the corner of her eye, that Arcander was approaching the group, with a familiar girl with lilac hair in tow. The two had decided to wait for the others so that they could all have their meals together, and so, they had been wandering through the gardens and past the fountains of the rooftop as they awaited the arrival of the others.

"Well now, if I didn't know you I would be convinced that you're trying to impress me." The white-haired aspirant joked casually, noticing his partner had changed clothes while he himself was stuck with the golden robe, as he had been looking after Mehran, and later Ritz. His comment earned but a snort and a headshake.

"If I didn't know you, I would punch you." She said sincerely, a lopsided grin on her face.

"Yes you would." He confirmed, nodding. "Anyway, what kept you so long?" He asked afterwards, glancing at the group and already getting an idea of the answer.

"Well, Cyranis dropped off three more recruits for our group." She explained, looking a bit sheepish as she mentioned the instructor's last name. Arcander raised an eyebrow as he stared at her for a few moments, but finally shrugged and turned his attention to the new arrivals who were among the other recruits.

"My name is Arcander Brightshield, and this is the fifth time I've had to say that today. Pleased to meet you, I will be one of your guides from today, along with Aressa here." He stated.

Afterwards, the group continued on to what appeared to be the cafeteria. It was rather large, taking up about one third of the rooftop's extension, though there were stairs in place to go above the cafeteria, where a couple more gardens resided. Dozens of entrances were there for the students to use, and once the group stepped inside, they would find themselves in a large room, white like the rest of the architectural works up there, and at the wall opposite to the entrances, several dozen open booths of sorts were present, a box inside each one of them, evidently placed there for product delivery. Thankfully, though there were many students present, the place was not too crowded at the moment and some of the booths were free, though that was prone to change at a moment's notice.

"It's fairly simply to work these machines." Arcander said with a didactic air about him. "You just speak the name of the dish you want loud and clear, and if the ingredients are available and the recipe is known, the AI will have it prepared for you. You can also ask for raw ingredients to cook them yourself, if any of you happens to be into cooking. Speaking of which, I should stock up while I can, I hate standing in line." He stated, before giving the students a casual salute and heading off towards one of the booths to the far right side of the 'cafeteria', which seemed to be a lot less used than the ones on the rest of the room, evidently reserved for seniors.

"The general consensus is that the AI knows how to prepare most dishes, but not all." Aressa explained after Arcander had left. "A good rule of thumb is that if the ingredients are normally comercially available, the AI can make it." She advised. "Now go and ask for whatever, though you should be sure not to request something that you're not going to burn afterwards. Get your food and we can all eat outside in the sunlight." She said, smiling at the recruits before walking off after Arcander, heading towards the aspirant booths as well in order to fetch her own meal.

[Sil Arion]

-snip-

She said my name. Aris could only sit there, astonished, amazed even more. He knew his jaw lay slightly open, his lips parted. His name was hers now. Her alone. And it was a wonderful feeling. This bond they now shared, giving of their names, themselves to each other, like the stories of old lore spoke. Silvalladine and Kaios. Sun and moon. Heaven and earth. And her name. Beautiful as she, with a meaning to match her spirit and likeness. And he was glad. That she had lived a life filled with light and love of a family, with good-hearted parents to teach her – no great sadness or suffering to be found. Thank you, Lord Aradain, for watching her. He found his voice then, adoration and devotion spilling from his lips as he held her hands, “Ellyn Tarembor. O blazing light of first dawn, you light the way and spark my heart afire, and make me whole. This day you first spoke to me was the day I learned of what happiness is. This day we first held hand was the day I learned what tenderness is. This day we first kissed was the day I learned what devotion is. This day we first lay together was the day I learned what passion is. And every single day after this day is a day I love what love is. You are and always shall be my first, last, and forever love.”

How he loved her hands, so skilled, so strong, so soft as they sat in this secret place beneath crimson skies, her warmth washing over him like cleansing waters. He raised them his lips, slowly kissing the knuckle of each delicate finger, lingering on the last as he cast up his eyes at her.

Then his stomach growled. A second later, so did hers. Aris looked up at her, his growing smile matching her own. And again they were laughing together at the silliness, the romantic moments gone in the wake of their awakened hunger. He raised himself from his seat, lifting Ellyn with him as he spoke in his best imitation of some foppish noble, a lopsided grin on his face and mirth in his gaze, “Since I believe my stomach might commit mutiny if I don’t, may I have the honor to lunch with you, my lady?”

“You may, kind sir,” she replied demurely, lips curled, honey-gold eyes shining with suppressed laughter as she played along. He held out an arm, and she slipped her own inside his. He bent his knees slightly. A flash of white-gold light and sound. Then they were arcing through the air once more, floating like light and fluffy clouds above the rooftop promenade. High above, they passed through the peak, spinning and twirling like winged faeries flying in the winds as they fell from the sky, her hair fanning out like a rays of sunshine as it caught the light. His smile was wide and bright as they descended, dancing around the other in the air, him performing dual acrobatics with her as they did. Oh, beloved, how lovely you are. As they neared the stone, he caught her hands in his and flipped her over him as she slipped her arm inside his again. Another flash of light, and they were softly landing on the balcony with grace and balance borne of skill. Our harmony is nearly perfect.

Truly, he could hardly wait to truly dance with her, on stage, in a performance. To teach her to sing. So much to look forward to already!

The smell of warm foot filled his nostrils as Aris strode through the fountains and gardens with her at his side, now hand in hand, the crowd parting before them as they made their way to the cafeteria. There were a few whispers as he passed, but he paid them little heed. She was what mattered most. Ellyn.

Into the shade of the cafeteria, he stepped through one of the dozens of doors into an expansive white room, decorated in dark woods of red and brown, the floor of seamless black stone shot with veins of gold and silver. It was quite grand, cool and comfortable. And quite packed. He cast his eyes about the room, seeing Arcander and Aressa standing beside several first-years. Ones he remembered from not long ago when he and Ellyn had last left the dorm. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but guessed at its content as Arcander walked towards the far right side, followed by Aressa, where many other aspirants were getting their meals. A section for seniors? He turned and entered into one the lines on the left, standing behind several other first-years waiting before a booth. An order taken by voice. A meal delivered by the machine. If an AI was responsible for cooking – well. He wouldn’t ask for anything too complicated or that’d take long to prepare. But what to eat then?

Oh! Perhaps he could share some of his homeworld’s cuisine with her! He was terribly hungry too, so perhaps a large lunch for the two of them? He’d ask her then – he had a few dishes in mind.

“Ellyn, agápi mou, would you like to try my homeworld’s cuisine?”

[Kassaran]

Rystan had watched. Silently. It was what he did. He wasn't here to play, he wasn't here to goof off. He was here to learn, and be taught how to become great... how to become a savior to other worlds. Worlds like his own that had been kept in their own dark and selfish ways for far too long and had been consumed in the inferno which erupted upon them. He was a child in stature perhaps, or moreover just a few years old, but he was a veteran of a war he had lost. That everyone partaking of it had lost. His family, his friends, his teachers and their families and friends, they were all dead. Particles adrift in the cosmos somewhere, and he had to take responsibility in part for that, for their deaths. He had now settled for doing what he could do best, what he'd learned to best. He watches, observes, acknowledges, and lives.

He watched as they entered the room under the banner of A-23, he observed the interactions between family (a heart-warming moment no-doubt, but hardly one he cared to indulge in), but breaking from habit, h had acknowledged with nothing more than a mere nod of the head to the others. He wasn't inclined to speak, not until he knew more. Not until he'd lived more to learn more and practice more. He had followed all along silently as they had left that room and entered yet another elevator and soon emerged upon what was assumedly the rooftop of the school. It was here he felt a slight moment of wonder before he returned to his previous bearing, the bearing of a soldier.

He shook his head, he wasn't a soldier, he was a child masquerading as a soldier, and that was dangerous. He needed to learn how to stop doing that soon or he'd end up doing something else he'd regret. He wasn't going to make that mistake again, not when the stakes were so high. Here he'd learn to control himself and his skills, and he'd be useful. Here he'd be able to reach out to those darkened places among the stars where the Truth wa shidden away. He would break open the vaults that held it back and give it to everyone else, he'd make the Truth known. for now though, his digestive system let loose a slight rumbling reminding him of his current physical needs, the need for food, for chemical energy in the most basic and rudimentary of forms, and he'd be certain to fulfill its request.

Turning to bow and take his leave of the older student whom had guided the new arrivals to this recreational zone, he gave a quick word of thanks. It was enough for him and so now he stood straight, turned back towards the cafeteria, and made his way deeper into the structure towards the machines he assumed served as the rudimentary feeding devices aforementioned. Therein lay an AI, back on his homeworld, he'd only known AI dedicated to the crafts he'd always assumed the Redemit were born for; war, death, disease, destruction. These were the collective knowledge of his people, of his kin, and they had been versed in the msot forbidden of practices. This was the terror that the lack of Truth had caused. He winced as he outstrecthed his hand towards the machine, attempting to interface with it, only to stop short and realize these weren't the crude machines of his homeworld.

Refinement was shown in its very casework, the aesthetic beauty and decoration in simply how the varnish upon the polished casement showed this. These were machines of peace, they knew no suffering, no strife, no limitations of the arts or mind. He smiled for this was the beauty he'd seen reflected in the eyes of those whom had awoken him, and it was that beauty he strove for. It was indeed peace he sought, and it was indeed a glorious sight. He refrained from contact with the machine and instead settled for the less direct & less confrontational of events. He spoke," A-I. Transfer Rystan Q'art, requesting food. How might I go about doing so from your construct?"

"Speak and it will be brought if possible." the small device intoned. It was a crystal clear voice and Rystan bowed his head apologetically. The machine had indeed only repeated what had been told him before.

He spoke again," do you have the cuisine local to my Home Sector?"

"Speak and it will be brought if possible." the small device responded. It was hardly a conversationalist, and Rystan again bowed his head apologetically. To the average passerby, the sight would indeed be a strange one, but this was a custom to which Rystan had grown up with, and the standardized answers to which he was receiving were all welcome. The showed no differentiation, no segregation and no inclination to deny him based on his origins, it was simply a servant. The tall warrior clad in his white robes was indeed quite the sight bowing repeatedly as over the course of the next minute he continued to ask similarly vague questions bowing to each of the answers the small device gave and the machine patiently waited upon him. This was a man near a tool he'd been raised to revere, and it was here, waiting upon him. Before they had been weapons of suffering, but here the Phantom Blade had made them docile creatures, hardly a thing to be feared, save you knew how you wanted your food prepared.

Finally the time came to order, having assessed the situation enough to obtain the information he needed," I wish for a Viriell Shi'aquil. Standard home dish of my Sector, Order Designation 1002-dash-335."

A small hum, and a minute later there it was before him, a plate of what appeared to be some sort of vegetable and pasta dish. The vegetables here however were very much alive holding within them semi-alive protien-rich bacteria. While hardly easy on the tastebuds, the rich taste of the fermented organics was complemented rather kindly by the implementation of powerfully seasoned noodles which wrapped about the living vegetation. To one unfamiliar with the dish, it would appear as nothing more than a rancid plate of salad with yarn wrapped about it, but to those who knew of this delicacy, they could vouch for the incredible sweetness of the pasta and the saltiness of the vegetables within. The powerfully nut-like flavor when consumed together created a fulfilling delicacy that had only originally been prepared upon Rystan's homeworld. While perhaps his world, his society lay in ruins, its culture had not and many of the refugees from the war had escaped with their culinary practices.

It was in the aforementioned exodus of those few culinary chefs and herbalists that the culinary culture of his world, one no longer referred to by name in honor of its loss, survived and lived on. It was simplistic, but incredibly powerful, moving but rooted in deep agragarian societal practices. To most, it'd appear nothing more than a barbaric ritual, but to the people of his homeworld, Rystan's homeworld, it was an art to grow the plants that he now was to eat. He thanked the few whom had grown him his commercially available strain of Viriell Shi'a (this being the bacteria-rich vegetables, the 'quil' being short for Nastaquil being the pasta now wrapped about the Viriell Shi'a) and once again left the building and apprached where now people were gathering. All about he could see people from all walks of life lounging about, and again he smiled within himself. Perhaps for now his visage remained stony, cold, analytical, but inside he was truly melting in the heat of the warming starlight overhead and he was hardly against it. Perhaps now he'd be able to live again. Perhaps here he'd be able to fight again, but for this time, he'd fight for what was good and righteous; he'd fight for the Truth.

[Atlannia]

Alfenn listened to Arcander's introduction and explanation of the cafeteria equipment and eyed the machines warily. He had certainly never heard of an AI used to prepare food before but then he supposed the Academy contained a great many things he had never heard of before. Ordinarily he would prefer to observe for a while before meddling with unfamiliar technology but the the pangs of hunger tugging at his stomach stirred him to action. One of the other students had already moved towards the empty booths anyway so Alfenn moved purposefully towards one of the few remaining empty booths and stopped in front of the innocuous looking boxes. He looked at it, opened his mouth and then closed it again. The box, unsurprisingly , did nothing. I have no idea what to eat realised Alfenn suddenly. At home the meals had always been selected and prepared by the kitchen staff. If Alfenn had been born a girl he might have been expected to learn how to select meals, organise the servants and plan functions or host guests but all of that was considered beneath the only male heir of the Cortagne line and so he had always simply eaten whatever was in front of him. Closing his eyes Alfenn used his Sonomancy to amplify his hearing and listened to the occupants of the booths either side of him, desperate for inspiration.

To his left an older student ordered something utterly unpronounceable and then sent it back repeatedly, each time with the alarming request that the dish be made "more gelatinous," Alfenn shuddered and cast his attention to the right. The boy who had moved towards a booth before him was having a protracted conversation with the machine in his booth, but he was eventually rewarded with some mysterious dish Alfenn had never heard of, local cuisine of the boy's home world apparently. Still it smelled promising, Alfenn determined after a quick sniff and at this point he was happy to try anything as long as it wasn't gelatinous. Alfenn poked his head around the thin wall that separated them and coughed pointedly to get the boy's attention.

"Excuse me," he said, "What did you say that dish was called again?"

[Kassaran]

The voice was so faint in having been behind him within the crowded confines of the cafeteria that Rystan almost missed what had been said. His eyes narrowed and he let his gaze fall from the view outside to the ground behind him. He was a rather tall fellow, but the student whom had spoken to him was one of the new arrivals alongside him. It also appeared he had caughten a whiff of Rystan's meal and was currently asking how it be pronounced so presumably he might order some. It was a most intriguing situation for the young man mind you because perhaps for the first time in his life, he wasn't being talked up or down to, but rather, just simply talked to. He smiled and walked over to the booth the boy was in. He was the one from the foreign order, one that he'd never heard of though this would have been unsurprising given Rystan naturally came from one of the msot unreached sectors in the galaxies. If this was the case, then it was highly possible for one to be of significant power, but of a nearly unheard of status in comparison to the larger orders like the Phantom Blade.

Moving to the student's side, he leaned over and spoke to the machine," Viriell Shi'aquil, standard dish of Sector 1002-dash-335."

the machine complied and began to hum softly as the meal was prepared, he turned to the student and decided to give him the warning he figure he was near contractually obligated to give the student," mind you, its a powerful dish, incredibly rich in flavor and texture, these vegetables here," he paused to use a small eating utensil to point out the living food on his plate," is technically spoiled, but the way it has been grown, it has become very stale. The sauces boiled into it to culture the bacteria upon it gives it the flavor, the bacteria gives it the sweeter taste alongside the noodles which have been soaked in a special root glaze also from my home planet. An easy enough meal, but don't let it intimidate you. I hear it is often compared to a sort of nut desert, even in spite of its high nutritional content."

Turning away, Rystan began to walk away once again, he had done what he figured had been asked of him so thus he'd be better off not troubling the student anymore. Then again, maybe he had wanted to speak with someone? Rystan smiled to himself and shook his head again, somehow he must appear some sort of demented for seemign to react visibly to his own thoughts. This again was perhaps moreover a cultural quirk than a personal flaw, but hardly something to be taken lightly.

[Charmera]

Vynaria
Vyna sighed, having caught up with her brother quickly before they had left, though he seemed a little reluctant to talk to her as he usually was. She could guess part of the reason why was due to the tension which was between the two of them. After all, they were both possible suspects in each other eyes. Despite the bonds of sibling-hood, they had seen too many times how corrupt and machinating the rest of their family could be, and had been away from each other long enough that their mere sisterly or brotherly word was no longer enough.

As she walked towards a booth, Vyna couldn't help but wonder how this all came about. She shook her head, pushing such thoughts from her mind with force. She headed over to the box, her booth luckily not having a line. She bent over slightly and inspected the machine, cocking her head. What to have...? She wondered. The cuisine of her home world was quite unique, mostly for the fine line between "refined delicacy" and insanity. Food was either too rich and portion light or too tough and hardy. Vyna was used to it.

Yeah, I've really had enough of Lets try something new... "Cydnia Ikbaraia Fillet." Nice and simple.

For a moment, she was sure it wouldn't work, but the machine hummed to life, summoning the dish for her. She smiled slightly at the things efficiency. Though perhaps she should have ordered a side dish too... Oh well...

She took her meal and begun heading out of the booth. She noticed Jyn and Jon over in the distance arguing about what to eat.

Jon and Jyn
"Why do you have such a problem with sharing brother?"

"Every time we decide to share something, you take almost all of my food!" Jon replied, irritably. Jyn was less heated, more exasperated with her little brother.

"That's because you order such large portions and eat so slowly... Just let me know if I'm going too fast..."

"That's irrelevant! And I do!" Jon replied, then he calmed down. "Look, I'd rather just have my own food, okay."

Jyn shrugged. "No one was forcing you. I just suggested it." Jyn replied.

Then there was a pause.

"Are you okay Jon? You seem really... tense."

"I'm fine."

Jyn sighed. Retrieving her food from the box. Yendran Hadrox steak with vegtables. "Alright..."

[The Unites State-Of-Minds]

-Znip-

The beginnings of a dull ache had begun to form within his chest during the short ride up the elevator, but Arogisl paid it little mind. Instead he found himself far more occupied with the mass of students occupying the open space. Glancing around he heard a somewhat familiar voice, which upon further inquiry revealed its source as his opponent from earlier that day. Had it been but minutes earlier he may have scarce been able to resist rushing in her direction, but his mind had cooled down a bit and was no longer in the mood to actively seek conflict. Besides, she was already actively engaged in conversation, which would be rude of him to interrupt, and the rest of his group was heading in the direction of a large structure which appeared to be the source of the food many possessed.

He listened to the Aspirants short explanation of the method to obtain sustenance, finding himself somewhat taken aback at the supposed ease to which it would be provided. Nevertheless, he took his place within a rapidly forming line for one of the booths. Once his turn came, he spoke the name of a preferred dish into the dispenser after a few moments dispensed a bowl filled with a red gelatinous soup. Looking into the liquid he frowned for a moment before muttering into the machine once again whereupon a shallow bowl teeming with a writhing mass of tiny shrimp like crustaceans was dispensed. Seemingly satisfied with the end results, Arogisl exited the booth, emptying the smaller bowl into the larger, the creatures then proceeding to do their best to swim through the viscous liquid. Looking around for the group, he noticed Vyna standing not too far away. She had seemed quite eager to take part in the Silver Games, and he had enjoyed his short time speaking with her and her sister. With nothing else of precedence upon his mind, he walked toward her and announced his presence.

"Greetings Miss Ayendor, it is a pleasure to see you. I take it from our earlier correspondence that you had an enjoyable match?"

[Wolfenium]

Eamonn

Sitting under a tree at the corner of the rooftop garden, Eamonn appeared sullen and melancholic as he feasted on his plain meal. Consisting of a loaf of rye bread, a bowl of cream soup with assorted mushrooms and some black pudding blood sausages, the fare seemed comparable to rural residents in the outer worlds of civilization, albeit more flavourful and refined thanks to the ingredients and aritificial culinary expertise of a wealthy, urban setting. He did not appear to pay much heed to taste, gnawing down each ripped piece of bread as he soaked it in the soup. Much less were his table manners, as each new bite of the sausage produced an audible snap to anyone who happened to be in his immediate vicinity.

"Odd," he went, "even Eirean food taste better here than on Eiru..."

It was a rather cruel joke on his part, a self-depreciation of his own origins. Looking out at the skyline, he could not help but sulk at the elitist residents here. Few here knew the full extent of the lawlessness that plagued outlying worlds like his. He felt out of place in an academy like this. Even the food itself felt otherworldly to him.

---

Mehran and Niloofar

The Xorshids were an austere sect, favouring simplicity over luxury in the inhospitable climate of Mervarid's surface. Its underground farms alone could barely supplement its food supply, and variety of crops was scarce, if not virtually limited to rice at times. But the Shirazis' mother, an offworlder from a relatively close core world, had a far different outlook. What the local produce lacked in taste, she supplemented with spices and herbs from her own world. Grown in their own backyard, she was quick to impart her skills in the kitchen to each and every one of her daughters, and it showed with Niloofar right at that moment, as she worked with her cutlery to dice a set of chilis on her cutting board.

"The variety of ingredients here is staggering," Niloofar mused as her brother sat and watched on, "I don't think I've even seen most of the vegetables and meats outside Mom's old cookbooks."

"Mother did come from Nartakī (Hindi: नर्तकी)," Mehran answered her, "a core world with all the bounties of nature rolled into one is hardly something our cold, desolate wasteland could hope to match. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Shut up, blind man," she jabbed back, brandishing her chopper at the shade-wearing lad (though they're pulled to his forehead), "I'm trying my best to improve. Even Mom said I'm doing well now. You have no taste by giving me that sour look."

"That's because no one but Mother can take that level of heat," grumbled the lad, "you could melt the Mervarid's ice sheet with your curry."

Pouting in frustration, Niloofar quickly got back to work preparing the food. A focused young woman, she paid no attention to her brother's irked reaction as she began to cook the curry in the pot. It looked like nothing special, a Rogan Josh made with Kusanagi beef and served with papadum, rice and a side of yoghurt. It was a dish the AI could have easily served on its own, but Niloofar insisted on working on the dish herself, and she was adamant that Mehran try as well.

"Done," squealed the gleeful young girl, presenting a dish to her brother in grave anticipation, "give it a try. Who knows, you might actually like it."

Staring down at the seemingly innocuous dish, the unnerved guardian grunted, "I highly doubt it."

"Eat it. I put more yoghurt and paneer into the curry to lower the spiciness this time," she began to insist, looking quite displeased with his refusal. Exchanging a long hard glare, the two looked locked in a test of wills yet again. But as per any taste test, Mehran ultimately conceded, his stomach unable to handle another wait at the booths' snaking queues. Hesitant, the lad quietly picked up a piece of the tortilla-like biscuit as he broke off a slice to dip into the curry. Scooping up a small piece of beef and curry with his slice, the strain on his face in anticipation was showing, readying himself for the burn to come. Finally, as he sank his teeth in, the papar broke along the ridge of his bite, the food sinking inside his mouth with all its flavour. Chewing animatedly, he appeared to be rather worried about the spiciness about to sting him. For a moment, it never actually came, much to his relief.

"Strange," he admitted with his mouth stuffed, looking rather pleased with her, "this isn't actually half-bad-"

Unfortunately for the lad, his praise was quickly cut short as his tongue began to tickle to life. Virtually lit on fire by the excessive chili peppers and spices dumped on his taste buds, his face turned a smokey red as the tongue-searing food tore apart his nerves. Immediately, he raced for the nearest water cooler in sight, yammering an apology while shoving a hapless lad in the queue aside as he began to drown his throat in ice cold water to soothe the pain. It was too much for him to take, even in full view of his schoolmates and aspirants. Undoubtedly, the one most piqued by the scene was his sister herself, looking extremely put off as she hauled the pot of curry aside.

"Fine," she growled, "if you're that much of a wuss, I'll let someone else try. Everyone," she called out eagerly, "who wants to try some authentic Nartakīan curry!~ My treat!~"

After that display, it was obvious no one dared to step forward at all. As much as the growing queues were putting off some people, the result of her first victim was evidence enough of what kind of treatment they would get for trying. But perhaps someone might be able to take the heat from her food. Niloofar, for some reason, had the aptitude to take that hellish level of spiciness, so why not someone else?

[Charmera]

-Znip-

The beginnings of a dull ache had begun to form within his chest during the short ride up the elevator, but Arogisl paid it little mind. Instead he found himself far more occupied with the mass of students occupying the open space. Glancing around he heard a somewhat familiar voice, which upon further inquiry revealed its source as his opponent from earlier that day. Had it been but minutes earlier he may have scarce been able to resist rushing in her direction, but his mind had cooled down a bit and was no longer in the mood to actively seek conflict. Besides, she was already actively engaged in conversation, which would be rude of him to interrupt, and the rest of his group was heading in the direction of a large structure which appeared to be the source of the food many possessed.

He listened to the Aspirants short explanation of the method to obtain sustenance, finding himself somewhat taken aback at the supposed ease to which it would be provided. Nevertheless, he took his place within a rapidly forming line for one of the booths. Once his turn came, he spoke the name of a preferred dish into the dispenser after a few moments dispensed a bowl filled with a red gelatinous soup. Looking into the liquid he frowned for a moment before muttering into the machine once again whereupon a shallow bowl teeming with a writhing mass of tiny shrimp like crustaceans was dispensed. Seemingly satisfied with the end results, Arogisl exited the booth, emptying the smaller bowl into the larger, the creatures then proceeding to do their best to swim through the viscous liquid. Looking around for the group, he noticed Vyna standing not too far away. She had seemed quite eager to take part in the Silver Games, and he had enjoyed his short time speaking with her and her sister. With nothing else of precedence upon his mind, he walked toward her and announced his presence.

"Greetings Miss Ayendor, it is a pleasure to see you. I take it from our earlier correspondence that you had an enjoyable match?"

Vyna smiled as Arogisl approached her, remembering what pleasant conversation he had been, though her smile wavered somewhat when she mentioned the match. "it... was indeed an enjoyable match for the most part. Mehran was a worthy opponent indeed... How was yours?" She was reluctant to elaborate on what she meant by "for the most part" at this moment, as skewering another fellow student was still somewhat embarrassing. She felt uncomfortable for a moment, then continued speaking, noticing the other students meal/ "That seems like an interesting dish you have there. Mind if I ask what it is exactly?"

After that display, it was obvious no one dared to step forward at all. As much as the growing queues were putting off some people, the result of her first victim was evidence enough of what kind of treatment they would get for trying. But perhaps someone might be able to take the heat from her food. Niloofar, for some reason, had the aptitude to take that hellish level of spiciness, so why not someone else?

"I wouldn't mind trying some." Jynna spoke, ever the adventurous if mildly reckless Jyn, heading towards the two of them. Jon had already gotten her food. He was eating somewhat light, a small salad with some fish native to his home planet. He looked at Jynna and then the two of them, waiting for Jynna to tell him who they were.

She looked over to her brother, chuckling nervously. "Oh right... Sorry." She looked back to Niloofar and Mehran. "This is Jonran, or Jon. My little brother." Quite litteraly, Jon was practically dwarfed by Jyn, in fact he was unusually short and somewhat wiry. "Jon, this is Mehran and Niloofar."

Jon nodded. "Pleased to meet you both." He replied with a raised eyebrow, already guessing the two of them were brother and sister. "And will you stop calling me "little" Jyn, I'm almost as old as you."

"Oh, sorry brother. I do sometimes forget you're sen-" She stopped, and chuckled nervously again as she got a murderous glare from her little brother. She turned back to Mehran and Niloofar. "So... Can I have a try of that curry?"

[Wolfenium]

"I wouldn't mind trying some." Jynna spoke, ever the adventurous if mildly reckless Jyn, heading towards the two of them. Jon had already gotten her food. He was eating somewhat light, a small salad with some fish native to his home planet. He looked at Jynna and then the two of them, waiting for Jynna to tell him who they were.

She looked over to her brother, chuckling nervously. "Oh right... Sorry." She looked back to Niloofar and Mehran. "This is Jonran, or Jon. My little brother." Quite litteraly, Jon was practically dwarfed by Jyn, in fact he was unusually short and somewhat wiry. "Jon, this is Mehran and Niloofar."

Jon nodded. "Pleased to meet you both." He replied with a raised eyebrow, already guessing the two of them were brother and sister. "And will you stop calling me "little" Jyn, I'm almost as old as you."

"Oh, sorry brother. I do sometimes forget you're sen-" She stopped, and chuckled nervously again as she got a murderous glare from her little brother. She turned back to Mehran and Niloofar. "So... Can I have a try of that curry?"

"Ah, pleased to meet you," Niloofar gleefully greeted, setting the pot on the table as she bowed, "and of course you can try! I'll get a bowl for you."

Staggering back from the water cooler, Mehran's lips were noticeably redder than before. His equally rosy tongue out as he tried to expel the pungent taste, he appeared a bit tongue tied to speak properly. Still, he did make an introductory bow to Jon as he turned back to Jynna. Waving them off and making indistinguishable sounds as he gestured at Niloofar, he seemed desperate to dissuade them, much to his sister's chagrin.

"How cruel," Niloofar sneered, brushing him off as she carried a small bowl over with a crisp papadum chip dipped in. Handing her the bowl and a pair of utensils, she chimed, "here you go!~ I noticed they had premium Kusanagi beef, so I took the opportunity to experiment. Hope it's not too bad. You can have some too, if you want, Mr Jonran."

[Charmera]

"I wouldn't mind trying some." Jynna spoke, ever the adventurous if mildly reckless Jyn, heading towards the two of them. Jon had already gotten her food. He was eating somewhat light, a small salad with some fish native to his home planet. He looked at Jynna and then the two of them, waiting for Jynna to tell him who they were.

She looked over to her brother, chuckling nervously. "Oh right... Sorry." She looked back to Niloofar and Mehran. "This is Jonran, or Jon. My little brother." Quite litteraly, Jon was practically dwarfed by Jyn, in fact he was unusually short and somewhat wiry. "Jon, this is Mehran and Niloofar."

Jon nodded. "Pleased to meet you both." He replied with a raised eyebrow, already guessing the two of them were brother and sister. "And will you stop calling me "little" Jyn, I'm almost as old as you."

"Oh, sorry brother. I do sometimes forget you're sen-" She stopped, and chuckled nervously again as she got a murderous glare from her little brother. She turned back to Mehran and Niloofar. "So... Can I have a try of that curry?"

"Ah, pleased to meet you," Niloofar gleefully greeted, setting the pot on the table as she bowed, "and of course you can try! I'll get a bowl for you."

Staggering back from the water cooler, Mehran's lips were noticeably redder than before. His equally rosy tongue out as he tried to expel the pungent taste, he appeared a bit tongue tied to speak properly. Still, he did make an introductory bow to Jon as he turned back to Jynna. Waving them off and making indistinguishable sounds as he gestured at Niloofar, he seemed desperate to dissuade them, much to his sister's chagrin.

"How cruel," Niloofar sneered, brushing him off as she carried a small bowl over with a crisp papadum chip dipped in. Handing her the bowl and a pair of utensils, she chimed, "here you go!~ I noticed they had premium Kusanagi beef, so I took the opportunity to experiment. Hope it's not too bad. You can have some too, if you want, Mr Jonran."

"Jon is okay if you want" Jonran replied, feeling a little uncomfortable with the Mr prefix. He shrugged, supposing it couldn't be that bad. After all he had tried curry before... "I wouldn't mind trying some." Jyn let him go first, he took some of the papadum and dipped it in.

"Now you have no problem with sharing?" Jyn said, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up." he muttered, tasting the curry. Actually not bad. He thought, he smiled, consuming the rest of the papadum. You know, I quite like th- oh dear... hereee it comes that was when the spice hit. He felt like someone had shoved alight white phosphorus in his mouth. He carefully handed the bowl over to Jyn and ran to the water cooler to save his burning tongue.

Meanwhile, Jyn had taken the opportunity to try some, having a hardier constitution than her brother, though it was still somewhat overwhelming, though she could take it. Then again, it was much too powerful for her to have a whole meal out of. Jyn gave an approving smile. "It's good... very hot but good." She looked over to Jon and shrugged.

[Wolfenium]

"Ah, pleased to meet you," Niloofar gleefully greeted, setting the pot on the table as she bowed, "and of course you can try! I'll get a bowl for you."

Staggering back from the water cooler, Mehran's lips were noticeably redder than before. His equally rosy tongue out as he tried to expel the pungent taste, he appeared a bit tongue tied to speak properly. Still, he did make an introductory bow to Jon as he turned back to Jynna. Waving them off and making indistinguishable sounds as he gestured at Niloofar, he seemed desperate to dissuade them, much to his sister's chagrin.

"How cruel," Niloofar sneered, brushing him off as she carried a small bowl over with a crisp papadum chip dipped in. Handing her the bowl and a pair of utensils, she chimed, "here you go!~ I noticed they had premium Kusanagi beef, so I took the opportunity to experiment. Hope it's not too bad. You can have some too, if you want, Mr Jonran."

"Jon is okay if you want" Jonran replied, feeling a little uncomfortable with the Mr prefix. He shrugged, supposing it couldn't be that bad. After all he had tried curry before... "I wouldn't mind trying some." Jyn let him go first, he took some of the papadum and dipped it in.

"Now you have no problem with sharing?" Jyn said, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up." he muttered, tasting the curry. Actually not bad. He thought, he smiled, consuming the rest of the papadum. You know, I quite like th- oh dear... hereee it comes that was when the spice hit. He felt like someone had shoved alight white phosphorus in his mouth. He carefully handed the bowl over to Jyn and ran to the water cooler to save his burning tongue.

Meanwhile, Jyn had taken the opportunity to try some, having a hardier constitution than her brother, though it was still somewhat overwhelming, though she could take it. Then again, it was much too powerful for her to have a whole meal out of. Jyn gave an approving smile. "It's good... very hot but good." She looked over to Jon and shrugged.

For a moment, Jon's frantic escape for the cooler quite dampened her mood again. She had trouble understanding how small the threshold of an average person would be against her sort of curry. Fortunately, Jynna was remarkably resilient to the scalding spices. Hearing her praise, she squealed with glowing appreciation, "thank you! I added bhut jolokia ghost peppers for that extra kick. I'm glad you like it! If you want, I could offer more."

"Naw, I don dink dat's waise," Mehran interjected, recovering some ability to speak. Holding her hand, he simply stated, "jus suich out de hot pebbers for someding milder. Maybe den, peopal wound be moar eager to dasde id."

Put off, she grumbled, "it's not my fault you can't take ghost peppers. The food's getting cold. I'm taking my dinner now."

And with that, the girl quickly went back to her pot, serving herself some curry as she proceeded to dig in. Shaking his head at her stubborn demeanour, Mehran finally rolled back his tongue and answered, "sorry. She has a bit of trouble understanding people's threshold for pain. Here," he offered his bowl of yoghurt, "have some yoghurt. It'll cool the sting of the peppers. I can always get another bowl, don't worry."

[The Unites State-Of-Minds]

Vyna smiled as Arogisl approached her, remembering what pleasant conversation he had been, though her smile wavered somewhat when she mentioned the match. "it... was indeed an enjoyable match for the most part. Mehran was a worthy opponent indeed... How was yours?" She was reluctant to elaborate on what she meant by "for the most part" at this moment, as skewering another fellow student was still somewhat embarrassing. She felt uncomfortable for a moment, then continued speaking, noticing the other students meal. "That seems like an interesting dish you have there. Mind if I ask what it is exactly?"

Oblivious to Vyna's apparent change of heart in regards to the match, Arogisl responded cheerfully, "Well, I am most pleased to hear that you enjoyed yourself."
and was all but too happy to discuss the nature of his own battle, but when questioned about his food, it was his turn for his expression to falter as he became somewhat evasive in his spech. "What, this? It is but a common dish among the worlds of my home. I thought that seeing as the AI had little difficulty in producing the dish that it may have been common here as well, but you're more then welcome to try some if you so desire."

Seeking to shift the topic back to that of combat, he answered Vyna's initial question, "But as for my match, I regret to say it was inconclusive, ending in a tie. My opponent was quite the fighter, and one utilizing methods I find myself ill equipped to deal with."

[Charmera]

"Jon is okay if you want" Jonran replied, feeling a little uncomfortable with the Mr prefix. He shrugged, supposing it couldn't be that bad. After all he had tried curry before... "I wouldn't mind trying some." Jyn let him go first, he took some of the papadum and dipped it in.

"Now you have no problem with sharing?" Jyn said, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up." he muttered, tasting the curry. Actually not bad. He thought, he smiled, consuming the rest of the papadum. You know, I quite like th- oh dear... hereee it comes that was when the spice hit. He felt like someone had shoved alight white phosphorus in his mouth. He carefully handed the bowl over to Jyn and ran to the water cooler to save his burning tongue.

Meanwhile, Jyn had taken the opportunity to try some, having a hardier constitution than her brother, though it was still somewhat overwhelming, though she could take it. Then again, it was much too powerful for her to have a whole meal out of. Jyn gave an approving smile. "It's good... very hot but good." She looked over to Jon and shrugged.

For a moment, Jon's frantic escape for the cooler quite dampened her mood again. She had trouble understanding how small the threshold of an average person would be against her sort of curry. Fortunately, Jynna was remarkably resilient to the scalding spices. Hearing her praise, she squealed with glowing appreciation, "thank you! I added bhut jolokia ghost peppers for that extra kick. I'm glad you like it! If you want, I could offer more."

"Naw, I don dink dat's waise," Mehran interjected, recovering some ability to speak. Holding her hand, he simply stated, "jus suich out de hot pebbers for someding milder. Maybe den, peopal wound be moar eager to dasde id."

Put off, she grumbled, "it's not my fault you can't take ghost peppers. The food's getting cold. I'm taking my dinner now."

And with that, the girl quickly went back to her pot, serving herself some curry as she proceeded to dig in. Shaking his head at her stubborn demeanour, Mehran finally rolled back his tongue and answered, "sorry. She has a bit of trouble understanding people's threshold for pain. Here," he offered his bowl of yoghurt, "have some yoghurt. It'll cool the sting of the peppers. I can always get another bowl, don't worry."

Jyn was about to say she was fine, after all though it was burning her mouth intensely, she quite liked the curry. However, at that moment Jon decided to return, looking somewhat shell shocked by the ghost pepers. He quickly took the bowl. 'Tanks" he spurted through burnt tongue, grabbing a small spoon and tasting it, sighing in relief almost comically.

He coughed slightly, recovering decently quickly. "I'm assuming you've already met my sister Vynaria. After all she's often keen on socialization." Jon commented, a little bitter bite to the comment, grabbing his food back from Jyn who had held it for him as he rushed to the water.

Jyn nodded, then looked to Mehran, oblivious of her brothers repressed bile. "Oh, thats right. You fought Vyna." She recalled. "How'd it go? I had forgot to ask her."

Vyna smiled as Arogisl approached her, remembering what pleasant conversation he had been, though her smile wavered somewhat when she mentioned the match. "it... was indeed an enjoyable match for the most part. Mehran was a worthy opponent indeed... How was yours?" She was reluctant to elaborate on what she meant by "for the most part" at this moment, as skewering another fellow student was still somewhat embarrassing. She felt uncomfortable for a moment, then continued speaking, noticing the other students meal. "That seems like an interesting dish you have there. Mind if I ask what it is exactly?"

Oblivious to Vyna's apparent change of heart in regards to the match, Arogisl responded cheerfully, "Well, I am most pleased to hear that you enjoyed yourself."
and was all but too happy to discuss the nature of his own battle, but when questioned about his food, it was his turn for his expression to falter as he became somewhat evasive in his spech. "What, this? It is but a common dish among the worlds of my home. I thought that seeing as the AI had little difficulty in producing the dish that it may have been common here as well, but you're more then welcome to try some if you so desire."

Seeking to shift the topic back to that of combat, he answered Vyna's initial question, "But as for my match, I regret to say it was inconclusive, ending in a tie. My opponent was quite the fighter, and one utilizing methods I find myself ill equipped to deal with."

"I'll be sure to give it a try later." She replied politely. Unlike the rest of her family, she could be quite hesitant when it came to food, and the food seemed... still alive. She did not comment on that though. "You're welcome to try some of mine too. It's a somewhat unfamiliar dish to me, but I had heard tell that it was good from those of the neighboring sector.

"A tie... that's interesting..." She commented, clearly surprised by his answer. She didn't know a tie could be possible. "Who was your opponent, out of curiosity?"

[Wolfenium]

For a moment, Jon's frantic escape for the cooler quite dampened her mood again. She had trouble understanding how small the threshold of an average person would be against her sort of curry. Fortunately, Jynna was remarkably resilient to the scalding spices. Hearing her praise, she squealed with glowing appreciation, "thank you! I added bhut jolokia ghost peppers for that extra kick. I'm glad you like it! If you want, I could offer more."

"Naw, I don dink dat's waise," Mehran interjected, recovering some ability to speak. Holding her hand, he simply stated, "jus suich out de hot pebbers for someding milder. Maybe den, peopal wound be moar eager to dasde id."

Put off, she grumbled, "it's not my fault you can't take ghost peppers. The food's getting cold. I'm taking my dinner now."

And with that, the girl quickly went back to her pot, serving herself some curry as she proceeded to dig in. Shaking his head at her stubborn demeanour, Mehran finally rolled back his tongue and answered, "sorry. She has a bit of trouble understanding people's threshold for pain. Here," he offered his bowl of yoghurt, "have some yoghurt. It'll cool the sting of the peppers. I can always get another bowl, don't worry."

Jyn was about to say she was fine, after all though it was burning her mouth intensely, she quite liked the curry. However, at that moment Jon decided to return, looking somewhat shell shocked by the ghost pepers. He quickly took the bowl. 'Tanks" he spurted through burnt tongue, grabbing a small spoon and tasting it, sighing in relief almost comically.

He coughed slightly, recovering decently quickly. "I'm assuming you've already met my sister Vynaria. After all she's often keen on socialization." Jon commented, a little bitter bite to the comment, grabbing his food back from Jyn who had held it for him as he rushed to the water.

Jyn nodded, then looked to Mehran, oblivious of her brothers repressed bile. "Oh, thats right. You fought Vyna." She recalled. "How'd it go? I had forgot to ask her."

Watching Jon's rather sour look, Mehran could not help but empathize with a sulk. He could not imagine how anyone could stand Niloofar's pungent cooking, and he had to applaud Jyn for holding up despite the level of heat. Admittedly, she was a lot better at the craft than her first try. However, her own personal tastes did little to score her points all around.

However, shifting his gaze back to Jyn, he noted, "ah, her. It was a good fight. A couple of accidents in the middle, sadly, but nothing to be incredibly worried about. I just wished it had gone more smoothly."

"'Smoothly'," griped Niloofar with an agitated gaze, "you could have died, Brother! Do you know how nervous I was when I saw that sword in your gut!? If anything happened to you, I would have-"

However, taking a glance at Jyn, Niloofar retracted her statement, apologizing in discomfort, "sorry... I know I shouldn't blame your sister... Accidents happen... I just can't help it!... I don't want to answer to our parents if the worst happened then..."

Rubbing her arm, Niloofar felt a bit awkward about the situation. She had let off a lot of steam back at the arena, and she felt rather guilty for taking her anger out at the girls there. If she could, she would try to apologize. But Niloofar was also a prideful young warrior. She hated being answerable to anybody, even if she was wrong, herself.

"Besides which, what about yours," she asked Jyn, diverting the question, "my brother said you were up against some emo who was playing tricks on people on board the chariot earlier today. How'd you fare?"

[Charmera]

Jyn was about to say she was fine, after all though it was burning her mouth intensely, she quite liked the curry. However, at that moment Jon decided to return, looking somewhat shell shocked by the ghost pepers. He quickly took the bowl. 'Tanks" he spurted through burnt tongue, grabbing a small spoon and tasting it, sighing in relief almost comically.

He coughed slightly, recovering decently quickly. "I'm assuming you've already met my sister Vynaria. After all she's often keen on socialization." Jon commented, a little bitter bite to the comment, grabbing his food back from Jyn who had held it for him as he rushed to the water.

Jyn nodded, then looked to Mehran, oblivious of her brothers repressed bile. "Oh, thats right. You fought Vyna." She recalled. "How'd it go? I had forgot to ask her."

Watching Jon's rather sour look, Mehran could not help but empathize with a sulk. He could not imagine how anyone could stand Niloofar's pungent cooking, and he had to applaud Jyn for holding up despite the level of heat. Admittedly, she was a lot better at the craft than her first try. However, her own personal tastes did little to score her points all around.

However, shifting his gaze back to Jyn, he noted, "ah, her. It was a good fight. A couple of accidents in the middle, sadly, but nothing to be incredibly worried about. I just wished it had gone more smoothly."

"'Smoothly'," griped Niloofar with an agitated gaze, "you could have died, Brother! Do you know how nervous I was when I saw that sword in your gut!? If anything happened to you, I would have-"

However, taking a glance at Jyn, Niloofar retracted her statement, apologizing in discomfort, "sorry... I know I shouldn't blame your sister... Accidents happen... I just can't help it!... I don't want to answer to our parents if the worst happened then..."

Rubbing her arm, Niloofar felt a bit awkward about the situation. She had let off a lot of steam back at the arena, and she felt rather guilty for taking her anger out at the girls there. If she could, she would try to apologize. But Niloofar was also a prideful young warrior. She hated being answerable to anybody, even if she was wrong, herself.

"Besides which, what about yours," she asked Jyn, diverting the question, "my brother said you were up against some emo who was playing tricks on people on board the chariot earlier today. How'd you fare?"

"My sister stabbed you in the gut!?" Jyn asked rather loudly, surprised by this. An annoyed expression on her face, irritation, embrasment and concern. Besides her being Jyn's loving sister, Vyna's actions reflected on all of them. If she made a mistake, it tarnished the whole family name. And Jyn genuinely cared about Vynaria's own reputation too.

Jyn turned to Niloofar. "There is no need to apologize, I understand your concern for your brother." She replied. "I assume it was an accident... but still... I apologize on her behalf if she has not already."

"Knowing how pig headed and prideful she can be, she probably hasn't." Jon commented. Jon looked not at all surprised by this development. "Wonderful. First day at school and my sisters are already causing major injuries." He looked to Mehran. "I hope she didn't hurt you too much."

"You give Vynaria too little credit brother. I'm sure she did the right thing and apologized." Jyn said, turning back to Niloofar and Mehran. "She did say sorry, right?" She had a face of concern on at the moment, hoping the hole her sister had dug herself wasn't too deep.

[Wolfenium]

Watching Jon's rather sour look, Mehran could not help but empathize with a sulk. He could not imagine how anyone could stand Niloofar's pungent cooking, and he had to applaud Jyn for holding up despite the level of heat. Admittedly, she was a lot better at the craft than her first try. However, her own personal tastes did little to score her points all around.

However, shifting his gaze back to Jyn, he noted, "ah, her. It was a good fight. A couple of accidents in the middle, sadly, but nothing to be incredibly worried about. I just wished it had gone more smoothly."

"'Smoothly'," griped Niloofar with an agitated gaze, "you could have died, Brother! Do you know how nervous I was when I saw that sword in your gut!? If anything happened to you, I would have-"

However, taking a glance at Jyn, Niloofar retracted her statement, apologizing in discomfort, "sorry... I know I shouldn't blame your sister... Accidents happen... I just can't help it!... I don't want to answer to our parents if the worst happened then..."

Rubbing her arm, Niloofar felt a bit awkward about the situation. She had let off a lot of steam back at the arena, and she felt rather guilty for taking her anger out at the girls there. If she could, she would try to apologize. But Niloofar was also a prideful young warrior. She hated being answerable to anybody, even if she was wrong, herself.

"Besides which, what about yours," she asked Jyn, diverting the question, "my brother said you were up against some emo who was playing tricks on people on board the chariot earlier today. How'd you fare?"

"My sister stabbed you in the gut!?" Jyn asked rather loudly, surprised by this. An annoyed expression on her face, irritation, embrasment and concern. Besides her being Jyn's loving sister, Vyna's actions reflected on all of them. If she made a mistake, it tarnished the whole family name. And Jyn genuinely cared about Vynaria's own reputation too.

Jyn turned to Niloofar. "There is no need to apologize, I understand your concern for your brother." She replied. "I assume it was an accident... but still... I apologize on her behalf if she has not already."

"Knowing how pig headed and prideful she can be, she probably hasn't." Jon commented. Jon looked not at all surprised by this development. "Wonderful. First day at school and my sisters are already causing major injuries." He looked to Mehran. "I hope she didn't hurt you too much."

"You give Vynaria too little credit brother. I'm sure she did the right thing and apologized." Jyn said, turning back to Niloofar and Mehran. "She did say sorry, right?" She had a face of concern on at the moment, hoping the hole her sister had dug herself wasn't too deep.

Giving an assuring smile, Mehran quipped, "you should place more trust in her, the two of you. Miss Vynaria may come off as another upper class type, but she's not without civility. She looked distressed and apologized profusely for the accident. I told her not to mind it and challenge me some other time instead."

"You're too kind, Brother," Niloofar groaned, "I'd have her the heat if I were on her end of the blade."

"You like to give others the heat, don't you," Mehran spoke, still a bit miffed by his taste test earlier, "please, learn to loosen a bit. You're not going to make many friends with that kind of attitude."

"Like you're here to make friends," retorted the pouting girl, looking away in a equally indignant look.

For a moment, Mehran paused slightly at Niloofar's mention of his behaviour. True, for a while, he had put his intentions for a short stay in the academy at the back of his mind. He did not question the hospitality provided by the school and its body. But some things were just not agreeable for him, and his tutelage under the Xorshids dominated his every thought. The grim outlook on his face made it readily apparent his rather conflicted position. After a brief moment, he quietly snapped back to the conversation, his tone noticeably more terse than before.

"Yes, I apologize," Mehran told them, "I'm was just in a bit of a lull. To be frank, I might not stay long in the Silver Hand. I have a task from our order to obtain tomes from the Phantom Blade for safekeeping in Mervarid. I didn't expect my sister's arrival, but I feel I should stay on that task regardless. There are certain philosophies practiced here that I do not agree with. I will not try to force my views on anyone, but I have to ask that you forgive me if I offend you in any way."

[Atlannia]

The voice was so faint in having been behind him within the crowded confines of the cafeteria that Rystan almost missed what had been said. His eyes narrowed and he let his gaze fall from the view outside to the ground behind him. He was a rather tall fellow, but the student whom had spoken to him was one of the new arrivals alongside him. It also appeared he had caughten a whiff of Rystan's meal and was currently asking how it be pronounced so presumably he might order some. It was a most intriguing situation for the young man mind you because perhaps for the first time in his life, he wasn't being talked up or down to, but rather, just simply talked to. He smiled and walked over to the booth the boy was in. He was the one from the foreign order, one that he'd never heard of though this would have been unsurprising given Rystan naturally came from one of the msot unreached sectors in the galaxies. If this was the case, then it was highly possible for one to be of significant power, but of a nearly unheard of status in comparison to the larger orders like the Phantom Blade.

Moving to the student's side, he leaned over and spoke to the machine," Viriell Shi'aquil, standard dish of Sector 1002-dash-335."

the machine complied and began to hum softly as the meal was prepared, he turned to the student and decided to give him the warning he figure he was near contractually obligated to give the student," mind you, its a powerful dish, incredibly rich in flavor and texture, these vegetables here," he paused to use a small eating utensil to point out the living food on his plate," is technically spoiled, but the way it has been grown, it has become very stale. The sauces boiled into it to culture the bacteria upon it gives it the flavor, the bacteria gives it the sweeter taste alongside the noodles which have been soaked in a special root glaze also from my home planet. An easy enough meal, but don't let it intimidate you. I hear it is often compared to a sort of nut desert, even in spite of its high nutritional content."

Turning away, Rystan began to walk away once again, he had done what he figured had been asked of him so thus he'd be better off not troubling the student anymore. Then again, maybe he had wanted to speak with someone? Rystan smiled to himself and shook his head again, somehow he must appear some sort of demented for seemign to react visibly to his own thoughts. This again was perhaps moreover a cultural quirk than a personal flaw, but hardly something to be taken lightly.

"Much obliged," said Alfenn, taking the dish and giving it an experimental sniff. It smelled just as good up close, better even. The boy's warning had been mildly concerning but then again plenty of foods had bacteria in them at one stage or another and the dish was in front of him now. with a small shrug Alfenn coiled up some noodles with his fork and took a bite, chewing and rolling around the food in his mouth with a thoughtful frown. "Hmm," he said before taking another bite. "That's not bad actually, pretty good actually," He turned his head to see the other boy walking away, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Alfenn watched him leave without comment, deciding he had impinged upon his time enough already. As soon as the other boy had left though he hurried out of the booth, not wanting to occupy it longer than necessary. Once free he made for a vacant table near the edge of the room to eat his meal and engage in some light people watching. Finding a suitable location Alfenn settled down and began trying to pick out his new classmates, curious to see of he could learn anything useful about them.

[The Unites State-Of-Minds]

"I'll be sure to give it a try later." She replied politely. Unlike the rest of her family, she could be quite hesitant when it came to food, and the food seemed... still alive. She did not comment on that though. "You're welcome to try some of mine too. It's a somewhat unfamiliar dish to me, but I had heard tell that it was good from those of the neighboring sector.

"A tie... that's interesting..." She commented, clearly surprised by his answer. She didn't know a tie could be possible. "Who was your opponent, out of curiosity?"

Arogisl's cheerful demeanor faltered for a moment as he grappled with his poor memory for names before managing an answer, glancing around as he spoke to see if the individual of discussion had happened nearby.

"If i recall correctly her name was Elsis Salasanger. In actuality we passed her on our way over, she was engaged in a seemingly heated discussion regarding the historical viability of Vermilion so I doubt she took much notice of our passing. As for the unorthodox conclusion to our engagement, the adjudicator declared it a draw before we could reconcile on our own."

[Charmera]

"My sister stabbed you in the gut!?" Jyn asked rather loudly, surprised by this. An annoyed expression on her face, irritation, embrasment and concern. Besides her being Jyn's loving sister, Vyna's actions reflected on all of them. If she made a mistake, it tarnished the whole family name. And Jyn genuinely cared about Vynaria's own reputation too.

Jyn turned to Niloofar. "There is no need to apologize, I understand your concern for your brother." She replied. "I assume it was an accident... but still... I apologize on her behalf if she has not already."

"Knowing how pig headed and prideful she can be, she probably hasn't." Jon commented. Jon looked not at all surprised by this development. "Wonderful. First day at school and my sisters are already causing major injuries." He looked to Mehran. "I hope she didn't hurt you too much."

"You give Vynaria too little credit brother. I'm sure she did the right thing and apologized." Jyn said, turning back to Niloofar and Mehran. "She did say sorry, right?" She had a face of concern on at the moment, hoping the hole her sister had dug herself wasn't too deep.

Giving an assuring smile, Mehran quipped, "you should place more trust in her, the two of you. Miss Vynaria may come off as another upper class type, but she's not without civility. She looked distressed and apologized profusely for the accident. I told her not to mind it and challenge me some other time instead."

"You're too kind, Brother," Niloofar groaned, "I'd have her the heat if I were on her end of the blade."

"You like to give others the heat, don't you," Mehran spoke, still a bit miffed by his taste test earlier, "please, learn to loosen a bit. You're not going to make many friends with that kind of attitude."

"Like you're here to make friends," retorted the pouting girl, looking away in a equally indignant look.

For a moment, Mehran paused slightly at Niloofar's mention of his behaviour. True, for a while, he had put his intentions for a short stay in the academy at the back of his mind. He did not question the hospitality provided by the school and its body. But some things were just not agreeable for him, and his tutelage under the Xorshids dominated his every thought. The grim outlook on his face made it readily apparent his rather conflicted position. After a brief moment, he quietly snapped back to the conversation, his tone noticeably more terse than before.

"Yes, I apologize," Mehran told them, "I'm was just in a bit of a lull. To be frank, I might not stay long in the Silver Hand. I have a task from our order to obtain tomes from the Phantom Blade for safekeeping in Mervarid. I didn't expect my sister's arrival, but I feel I should stay on that task regardless. There are certain philosophies practiced here that I do not agree with. I will not try to force my views on anyone, but I have to ask that you forgive me if I offend you in any way."

Jon raised an eyebrow and Jyn shrugged. The sister was a little disapointed that the two of them wouldn't be staying long, after all he was one of the few people she had actually talked to. Jon wasn't quite sure what to say at first, the heat of the curry still distracting him somewhat. However he decided it might be best to speak.

"There's no need to apologize. You've not offended either of us at all. Not all us Phantom Blade types have closed minds when it comes to differing points of view." Jon said, it was true, coming from a more liberal family. "We can accept that you may have different opinions to us, and we'll not blame you for it." He continued. "Though... I'm not sure if the same goes for Alris if you ever meet him..." Jon muttered under his breath

Jon smiled before he continued. "Also, it'd be rather hypocritical for be to be upset by something someone else says." Jon replied in a slightly quieter voice.

Jyn again shrugged. "I concur, there is no need to fear offending me or Jon." She said simply. "Though, we hope even if your stay isn't long that it is at least enjoyable."

"I'll be sure to give it a try later." She replied politely. Unlike the rest of her family, she could be quite hesitant when it came to food, and the food seemed... still alive. She did not comment on that though. "You're welcome to try some of mine too. It's a somewhat unfamiliar dish to me, but I had heard tell that it was good from those of the neighboring sector.

"A tie... that's interesting..." She commented, clearly surprised by his answer. She didn't know a tie could be possible. "Who was your opponent, out of curiosity?"

Arogisl's cheerful demeanor faltered for a moment as he grappled with his poor memory for names before managing an answer, glancing around as he spoke to see if the individual of discussion had happened nearby.

"If i recall correctly her name was Elsis Salasanger. In actuality we passed her on our way over, she was engaged in a seemingly heated discussion regarding the historical viability of Vermilion so I doubt she took much notice of our passing. As for the unorthodox conclusion to our engagement, the adjudicator declared it a draw before we could reconcile on our own."

"Ah... i was wondering how a draw would be possible... Did you run out of time or something of that like?" She asked, much more comfortable talking about his duel than her own. "Also, you spoke of that being a local dish for your home. Where exactly do you come from if you don't mind me asking?" She questioned, though she stopped after that one as she didn't want to seem like she was interrogating this man.

[Wolfenium]

Giving an assuring smile, Mehran quipped, "you should place more trust in her, the two of you. Miss Vynaria may come off as another upper class type, but she's not without civility. She looked distressed and apologized profusely for the accident. I told her not to mind it and challenge me some other time instead."

"You're too kind, Brother," Niloofar groaned, "I'd have her the heat if I were on her end of the blade."

"You like to give others the heat, don't you," Mehran spoke, still a bit miffed by his taste test earlier, "please, learn to loosen a bit. You're not going to make many friends with that kind of attitude."

"Like you're here to make friends," retorted the pouting girl, looking away in a equally indignant look.

For a moment, Mehran paused slightly at Niloofar's mention of his behaviour. True, for a while, he had put his intentions for a short stay in the academy at the back of his mind. He did not question the hospitality provided by the school and its body. But some things were just not agreeable for him, and his tutelage under the Xorshids dominated his every thought. The grim outlook on his face made it readily apparent his rather conflicted position. After a brief moment, he quietly snapped back to the conversation, his tone noticeably more terse than before.

"Yes, I apologize," Mehran told them, "I'm was just in a bit of a lull. To be frank, I might not stay long in the Silver Hand. I have a task from our order to obtain tomes from the Phantom Blade for safekeeping in Mervarid. I didn't expect my sister's arrival, but I feel I should stay on that task regardless. There are certain philosophies practiced here that I do not agree with. I will not try to force my views on anyone, but I have to ask that you forgive me if I offend you in any way."

Jon raised an eyebrow and Jyn shrugged. The sister was a little disappointed that the two of them wouldn't be staying long, after all he was one of the few people she had actually talked to. Jon wasn't quite sure what to say at first, the heat of the curry still distracting him somewhat. However he decided it might be best to speak.

"There's no need to apologize. You've not offended either of us at all. Not all us Phantom Blade types have closed minds when it comes to differing points of view." Jon said, it was true, coming from a more liberal family. "We can accept that you may have different opinions to us, and we'll not blame you for it." He continued. "Though... I'm not sure if the same goes for Alris if you ever meet him..." Jon muttered under his breath

Jon smiled before he continued. "Also, it'd be rather hypocritical for be to be upset by something someone else says." Jon replied in a slightly quieter voice.

Jyn again shrugged. "I concur, there is no need to fear offending me or Jon." She said simply. "Though, we hope even if your stay isn't long that it is at least enjoyable."

"I'm glad to hear it," Mehran answered, "I suppose I'll try to make my trip here as memorable as possible. No one would feel good sulking all the time, would we?"

"Anyway, it's quite a sight to see so many of your family in the same class as you," Niloofar remarked, loosening up a bit, "we hardly see each other even in the same madrese back home. It's about the same size as this school, though it's a lot gloomier, being underground. It might be since we take different subjects for our field of study. If you asked him to read a book that isn't a training manual or action novel, he usually end up bored to tears."

By reflex, Mehran quietly pulled his visor back on, quite keen to hide his embarrassment over her statement. Looking aside, he made a quick glance at Vyna as she chatted with what looked like one of their classmates on the fight. Focusing back on the others, he never seemed to be able to put his full focus on the conversation. Perhaps it was exactly what he said earlier on the chariot; he was never good with doing 'small talk'.

[Charmera]

Jon raised an eyebrow and Jyn shrugged. The sister was a little disappointed that the two of them wouldn't be staying long, after all he was one of the few people she had actually talked to. Jon wasn't quite sure what to say at first, the heat of the curry still distracting him somewhat. However he decided it might be best to speak.

"There's no need to apologize. You've not offended either of us at all. Not all us Phantom Blade types have closed minds when it comes to differing points of view." Jon said, it was true, coming from a more liberal family. "We can accept that you may have different opinions to us, and we'll not blame you for it." He continued. "Though... I'm not sure if the same goes for Alris if you ever meet him..." Jon muttered under his breath

Jon smiled before he continued. "Also, it'd be rather hypocritical for be to be upset by something someone else says." Jon replied in a slightly quieter voice.

Jyn again shrugged. "I concur, there is no need to fear offending me or Jon." She said simply. "Though, we hope even if your stay isn't long that it is at least enjoyable."

"I'm glad to hear it," Mehran answered, "I suppose I'll try to make my trip here as memorable as possible. No one would feel good sulking all the time, would we?"

"Anyway, it's quite a sight to see so many of your family in the same class as you," Niloofar remarked, loosening up a bit, "we hardly see each other even in the same madrese back home. It's about the same size as this school, though it's a lot gloomier, being underground. It might be since we take different subjects for our field of study. If you asked him to read a book that isn't a training manual or action novel, he usually end up bored to tears."

By reflex, Mehran quietly pulled his visor back on, quite keen to hide his embarrassment over her statement. Looking aside, he made a quick glance at Vyna as she chatted with what looked like one of their classmates on the fight. Focusing back on the others, he never seemed to be able to put his full focus on the conversation. Perhaps it was exactly what he said earlier on the chariot; he was never good with doing 'small talk'.

Jyn smiled back, comforted that they were both comfortable in this line of conversation. "I suppose it is nice to have family around. We haven't seen each other too for some time before we came here..." Jyn commented, when they had got the summons for the accademy, Vyna had just happened to be nearby and so they went together. "Though considering how many of us popped up I half expected to see brother Alris to show up too..." She shrugged.

Jon noticed Mehran's discomfort with a degree of empathy. If Vyna was here, Jon was sure he would be more than a bit embarrassed, and not just because of anything Vynaria had to say. He honestly hoped the source of that discomfort never came up in conversation. Pushing that from his mind for now, he looked at Niloofar. ""Indeed, apart from somewhat recently we've been a package deal... I suppose our lifestyle and the rest of our family encouraged us to form tight bonds."

[The Starlight]

-snip-

Ellyn smiled warmly, as Aris replied, his beautiful words flowing and rising, warming her heart and soul. And as he kissed her fingers, she, as if in dream, reflected on how blessed she was to have Aris. Always, she would cherish him, and this wonderful gift of love he had, and had bestowed upon her, for him.
And then, they flew once more, soaring through the sky, and again Ellyn felt the rush of glory and wonder come back to her. As they walked into the cafeteria, hand-in-hand, Ellyn responded as Aris asked her to taste one of his homeworld's dishes.

"I would indeed, beloved, I would love to. And I shall show you some of my own homeworld's foods, if we are not too full, but I do not think it will be the case, as we are both famished, or starfished, as those on my homeworld say." Ellyn responded, with a soft smile.

[Wolfenium]

"I'm glad to hear it," Mehran answered, "I suppose I'll try to make my trip here as memorable as possible. No one would feel good sulking all the time, would we?"

"Anyway, it's quite a sight to see so many of your family in the same class as you," Niloofar remarked, loosening up a bit, "we hardly see each other even in the same madrese back home. It's about the same size as this school, though it's a lot gloomier, being underground. It might be since we take different subjects for our field of study. If you asked him to read a book that isn't a training manual or action novel, he usually end up bored to tears."

By reflex, Mehran quietly pulled his visor back on, quite keen to hide his embarrassment over her statement. Looking aside, he made a quick glance at Vyna as she chatted with what looked like one of their classmates on the fight. Focusing back on the others, he never seemed to be able to put his full focus on the conversation. Perhaps it was exactly what he said earlier on the chariot; he was never good with doing 'small talk'.

Jyn smiled back, comforted that they were both comfortable in this line of conversation. "I suppose it is nice to have family around. We haven't seen each other too for some time before we came here..." Jyn commented, when they had got the summons for the accademy, Vyna had just happened to be nearby and so they went together. "Though considering how many of us popped up I half expected to see brother Alris to show up too..." She shrugged.

Jon noticed Mehran's discomfort with a degree of empathy. If Vyna was here, Jon was sure he would be more than a bit embarrassed, and not just because of anything Vynaria had to say. He honestly hoped the source of that discomfort never came up in conversation. Pushing that from his mind for now, he looked at Niloofar. ""Indeed, apart from somewhat recently we've been a package deal... I suppose our lifestyle and the rest of our family encouraged us to form tight bonds."

"Lifestyle," wondered Niloofar inquisitively, "I always assumed noble families cared about nothing about that. There are many who were willing to kill just about their entire clan just so they inherit their fortune and castle. It's a rather scary thought compared to how austere our society is."

"Greed," Mehran mused, "there's little else that could drive men to depravity more. At least it's good to hear that you're not adhering to such twisted mindsets. Travesty will come the day kinship is worth less than gold."

"Ah, I just recalled," blurted the girl out of the blue, rushing off to the side of the kitchen out of the blue. Returning with a marker and a small card folded into a prism, she scrawled a sign onto one of the faces as she displayed it in front of the pot. Returning with a satisfied smile, Niloofar appeared oblivious to her brother's strange looks. A quick glance back showed that she had written the name of the curry on the card, on display in front of the pot like a buffet item.

"You should put a warning on that," Mehran nervously alerted, adjusting his shades with a trembling hand, "I don't want to be the next person who gets a helping of it."

Defensive, Niloofar growled, "how rude. Don't blame me for your weak stomach, brother."

Grimacing quite clearly, Mehran was clearly more concerned than before. Shifting his eyes back and forth at the pot, he seemed very disturbed at any sign of people lining up in front of it. But with Niloofar just as attentive at the reception, he was quite torn at how to act. Should he try to stop anyone from eating her instant hellfire, or should he just let them take the risk?

But as he pondered over his options, a figure mysteriously popped into view beside him. Shocked, he watched as a pale-faced young man in long flax hair* silently scooped up a bowl of curry with a ladle, swallowing a piece of beef with an almost robotic expression. For a moment, the Xorshid was not sure if the lad was going to burst in panic at the searing spiciness like he and Jon did. After a few seconds, the sullen lad uttered a monotonous praise, "tasty," walking off with the bowl as if he had only drunk chicken soup.

Equally astonished as her kin, Niloofar wasted no time to mock the guardian, chiming, "see? And you said no one could take it well."

"'Well'? He was practically inhuman! A man of steel! He didn't even as much as bat an eyelid eating that! That can't be normal," Mehran yelled in a startled tone.

"What does it matter if someone could take the pungency that calmly," Niloofar retorted, "he said it was tasty."

"He hardly sounded like he liked the taste, though," mused the disturbed lad, still eyeing Eamonn's back as he walked off, "it's like he's dead inside for some reason."

A second look at the lad, Mehran could recall him being part of their class. He had not heard much about the results of the arena battles, but he did recall that he was chalked up for a loss against an Aspirlacial. Eamonn did not look excessively bitter, however. In fact, he did not look like he felt anything about it. Something bothered the guardian about that lad, a sense of brooding that he dared not fathom about.

---

*Eamonn