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Estva
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Founded: Nov 26, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Estva » Sun Dec 14, 2014 3:35 pm

Koren had noticed the disturbance, the flash of light, as many of the other students had. The breakage of the radio no doubt meant something strange was happeneing, although Koren could not decipher the wordage. Whatever was happening he had no control over, and if it were to have any affect on his life, then later perhaps he would deal with it.

Eventually, the chariot landed to their destination after their long journey. The sheer majesty of the planet was not lost even on Koren, who was rarely one to be impressed by the existence of the physical. He had to appreciate whatever standards were in place to keep the planet so pristine. It was certainly different to the smog Koren was used to whenever he went to a city.

As he and the other students departed, Koren noticed the chaos that was quickly enveloping the crowd. While some people seemed to know where they were going, quite a few were milling aimlessly about.

Hearing what seemed to be instructors yelling out names, Koren made sure to block out the noise of the crowd and focus on anyone announcing his name. It took some time, as he too had moved in a meaningless direction to move with the crowd, but eventually he found the instructor that called his name. Ahead of him, the two royals had already arrived and were introducing themselves, as were others, such as Mehran an Argosil. They had made their introductions, and now it was time for Koren's. He made sure not to add any honey to his words, the instructors would no doubt be unimpressed.

"Koren Arn, reporting sir. I look forward to our acquaintance."
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Dec 14, 2014 4:07 pm

As he continued calling out the names present on the list held in his hand, the tall white-haired man noticed two students, evidently recruits, approaching him and stopping nearby. One of them was a young man with brown slicked back hair, something unusual to see and which humored him, though he did not let it show out of respect for his fellow student. The other one was instead a girl, or so he thought, one with long black hair and purple eyes, an unusual color in those parts of the galaxy, though it was by no means unthinkable for a student to have come from much further away, perhaps a different quadrant altogether. Whatever the case, the two of them had approached him, yes, but they didn't seem to do anything else after that, making the guide wonder what exactly they were looking for or expecting. If they were in the group assigned to him and his partner and had come because they heard their names, then why they weren't saying anything was beyond him.

"...Hello. Do you need anything from me?" He said after seeing them stand there for a while. "Are you lost, perhaps?" He asked, wondering what they were doing, though before they had a chance to answer, another student came along. This one was a young man, a noble judging by his surname, and he was most definitely one of the recruits he was to guide, as he soon introduced himself, confirming that he was one of the people on his list, Arogisl Ignobilis. Upon hearing him introduce himself, the guide simply raised a hand and waved it slightly in a dismissive gesture.

"Save that for the haughtier aspirants and the staff members, you don't have to be so formal with me. I'm Arcander Brightshield, and I'll be one of your guides during your first three years at the Academy. Pleased to meet you." He said to the nobleman, nodding at him before glancing down at his list and crossing off the name Ignobilis. Looking back up, he noticed two other students approaching him, this time two girls of around the same age, one blonde and one with white hair, the former taller than the latter, who seemed to be staying behind the former for some reason. They seemed to have some sort of ressemblance with each other and didn't seem to mind each other's proximity, so Arcander inferred that they were probably related. And indeed, as they arrived next to him and the blonde one introduced herself and her companion, he learned that they were sisters, and that the surname that had apparently repeated itself belonged to them. More nobles, it seemed, though that was hardly a surprise. The Academy didn't favor those of noble descent when looking over applicants, but the simple truth was that these families often had the resources required to give their children quality training since early on, so it was no surprise that many nobles still found their way to the argent halls.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm afraid you will have to bear with it for a bit, as we'll have to wait for the rest of you and then attend to the welcoming ceremony, but after that you will get some time to rest. I'm Arcander Brightshield, and I'll be your guide in the Academy. Pleased to meet you, Jynna and Vyna." He said kindly to the both of them, regretting a bit that he was unable to help out some more in his current position, and then looked down to cross off both of their names from the list.

Just as he finished, another student. This one was another boy, and he soon introduced himself as Koren Arn. Arcander nodded at him. "No need to be so formal with me, Koren. Pleased to meet you. We have to wait for some others before heading towards the auditorium for the welcoming ceremony, so until then, just stay with me." He said to the newest arrival, before addressing all of the people around him at once. "I have to continue calling the others, but feel free to interrupt me if you have any questions." He offered, before looking down and crossing Koren from the list. He then continued cycling through the names that had not yet been crossed off from the list, waiting for them to arrive. "Akaion. Aspirlacial. Hygbros." He called.
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The Starlight
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Founded: Jan 11, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Starlight » Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:13 pm

Ellyn sucked in a breath as the chariot arrived. She hadn't been able to get a full look, but perhaps she would be allowed to take a chariot up for another painting. As she tried to memorize it as much as she could, she then saw the Academy. Yet another thing to paint, she thought sighing in both wonder and exasperation. At this rate she wouldn't be able to keep up! As she stepped off the chariot, she saw the other chariots landing. This is what she had be looking for, she thought, looking straight at the Academy. This is where she would start to forge her name in the stars forever. Shaking herself out of her wonderstruck thoughts for now, she heard the instructions, after which she heard her name being called. Following the voice, she soon found herself in front of a young man, with white hair. Seeing that some of the other students had already come, she stepped forward, and said, "Hello there, I'm Ellyn Tarembor. Pleased to meet you."
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Eon Prime
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Founded: Nov 05, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Eon Prime » Sun Dec 14, 2014 5:36 pm

The disturbance jolted Anaya awake, and in her disoriented state it took her several moments to make sense of her surroundings, by which point the audio station’s interference began. Everyone seemed silenced by the foreboding words, and even after the chariot driver’s reassurances that silence hung over the recruits for the remainder of their descent. Anaya didn’t know what to think. If the cryptic message held some subtle meaning it had gone straight over her head, which wasn’t surprising to her when she considered that she was far from astute.

Soon, the sight of Cathedral Arcadia distracted Anaya from the brooding atmosphere of the chariot. The scenery was almost exactly as she imagined it would be, the crimson skies staining the rest of the landscape with a subtle reddish tinge to her eyes. Oceans like rubies lapped against the coasts fitfully, and she imagined what swimming in red water would be like. It was all very exotic and enticing, looking nothing like her home world. As the chariot was pulled lower some students exclaimed at their first sight of the Academy, but it was a few more seconds before Anaya caught sight of the distant white structure. As they drew closer she became more aware of its design, it was a remarkable feat of engineering and the most beautiful building she had ever seen, so far at least.

Despite the unusual events that had just occurred, Anaya was not one to dwell on things, so she was visibly excited for their imminent arrival. She beamed as the chariot finally settled onto the landing platform and, after the chariot driver’s optimistic message, everyone began filing out into the morass of new students. Since she was farthest from the door, Anaya was one of the last handful to exit the craft into the crowd. Students seemed to be milling about in confusion as they sought their guide, but Anaya had the fortune of catching the name ‘Phaenan’ called over the crowd and made her way towards the guide. After pushing through the crowd, she found herself before a handsome, cheerful student who stood at least a hand’s span taller than her, reading through a list of names. She was nervous, but noticed some of the others from her chariot and relaxed.

“Anaya Phaenan?” she asked, seeking assurance that she was in the right place.
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Wolfenium
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Founded: Jan 17, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Wolfenium » Sun Dec 14, 2014 6:48 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"...Hello. Do you need anything from me?" He said after seeing them stand there for a while. "Are you lost, perhaps?"He asked, wondering what they were doing, though before they had a chance to answer, another student came along. This one was a young man, a noble judging by his surname, and he was most definitely one of the recruits he was to guide, as he soon introduced himself, confirming that he was one of the people on his list, Arogisl Ignobilis. Upon hearing him introduce himself, the guide simply raised a hand and waved it slightly in a dismissive gesture.

"Save that for the haughtier aspirants and the staff members, you don't have to be so formal with me. I'm Arcander Brightshield, and I'll be one of your guides during your first three years at the Academy. Pleased to meet you."


A slight grimace on his mouth, Mehran did not believe he would be stay for the whole of three years. Still, he kept quiet, not wishing to sound like a bastard in front of the guide. Bowing to the guide, Mehran answered, "pardon the silence. I didn't want to distract you while you rallied the other charges. Mehran Shirazi, Order of Xorshid. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Eamonn, however, did not respond immediately, staring at the ground as he waited for the others to finish introductions. Pulling his hair back, he uttered to the guide, "Eamonn MacÌomhair. My surname is written in my native tongue. So, if you have trouble saying it, just call me MacIver."
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Charmera
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Founded: Jan 18, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Charmera » Sun Dec 14, 2014 7:32 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Save that for the haughtier aspirants and the staff members, you don't have to be so formal with me. I'm Arcander Brightshield, and I'll be one of your guides during your first three years at the Academy. Pleased to meet you." He said to the nobleman, nodding at him before glancing down at his list and crossing off the name Ignobilis. Looking back up, he noticed two other students approaching him, this time two girls of around the same age, one blonde and one with white hair, the former taller than the latter, who seemed to be staying behind the former for some reason. They seemed to have some sort of ressemblance with each other and didn't seem to mind each other's proximity, so Arcander inferred that they were probably related. And indeed, as they arrived next to him and the blonde one introduced herself and her companion, he learned that they were sisters, and that the surname that had apparently repeated itself belonged to them. More nobles, it seemed, though that was hardly a surprise. The Academy didn't favor those of noble descent when looking over applicants, but the simple truth was that these families often had the resources required to give their children quality training since early on, so it was no surprise that many nobles still found their way to the argent halls.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm afraid you will have to bear with it for a bit, as we'll have to wait for the rest of you and then attend to the welcoming ceremony, but after that you will get some time to rest. I'm Arcander Brightshield, and I'll be your guide in the Academy. Pleased to meet you, Jynna and Vyna." He said kindly to the both of them, regretting a bit that he was unable to help out some more in his current position, and then looked down to cross off both of their names from the list.

"Pleased to meet you too." Jynna replied, practically radiating warmth and excitement. She couldn't wait to see the academy, barely holding in said anticipation. She wasn't prone to such excitement, but she had been waiting for this moment her entire life, as had Vyna. It was just a shame she couldn't quite enjoy it at the moment… Jynna turned her thoughts back to their new guide. "Just call me Jyn if you want. It's what everyone calls me." She remarked. "Do you mind if I call you Arcan? Or Arc?" She asked, a slight bit of nervousness in her voice, though it was almost overwhelmed by her excitement. "Or is that a little too informal?"

"Pleased to meet you too…" Vyna replied weakly, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She was a little annoyed that Jynna had introduced her with her nickname. The name Vynaria had an essence of class and elegance to it, while Vyna was something she usually only let friends and her siblings call her, though most people ended up calling her Vyna either way.
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Sil Arion
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Founded: May 07, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Sil Arion » Sun Dec 14, 2014 8:18 pm

As Aris held his bow, a spear of blinding light thundered by the chariot, and he braced himself against the seats as the carriage spun and bucked. A few cries of fear, jostled belongings and stumbles. And then it was over. Out of view and well past, into the distant void in just mere moments, but heading the Gryphon Constellation, one the few he recognized in this strange new sky.

The cheer in the room was gone, and any happy calming effect of his song turned over. A sigh. But then he heard it. A deep, grating voice emitting from forward at the audio station. No longer the news. He listened intently, hoping for an explanation. But that was no explanation. What was that? Heart’s Fire? Awaken the Cursed Blood? Grave words, even out of context, without background story. Perhaps a visit to the Archives is in order after getting settled in… He would meditate on this, certainly. To be prepared for whatever manner of disturbance that was. Discover its story. Whoever they were, or whatever, they would not harm his new family and home. Not without a fight. He might fail again, perfectly imperfect as Aradain created all his children to be, but he would give everything of himself first. Never again to repeat that. Oh, Hellen, dear sisters…

An announcement came then, in the charioteer’s soft voice, visibly calming many of the children. Arrival in a few minutes. Lost in deep thought as he was, his gaze turned out the window again, contemplating. But what he beheld.

Beautiful. His breath was taken away with it. Truly, it was a world unlike even his most wonderful dreams! He could only watch and wait, intoxicated with the changing scenery. Their descent was swift through white clouds arrayed in golden raiment, rays of brilliant sunshine piercing through like beacons to guide them over the sea red as heart’s blood and precious stones, so vivid and filled with life as a herd of great whales breached the surface in a swell of foam, before arching back down into the deep. Rocky islands covered in greenery and tall trees, dotting the waters like notes on a staff in flowing script, the waves as bars. And it was beautiful.

Then he saw it. A shimmer there, some dozen kilometers far. Twin white towers, rising so majestically from within three rings of concentric rocks, hundreds of floors high and stretching above everything in sight. A marvel of craftsmanship as he admired the architecture and towering sculptures of Kaios and Lady Syvalladine and countless others in lesser glory, but all so awesome to behold; the glittering fountains and lovely balcony gardens, the decorative columns and marble plinths, the sprawling courts and slender bridge spanning the two towers. So much to explore! As the chariot circled above, others joined them in their final descent, joining the dozens more already landed upon the vast black pad nestled on the second tower. A host of children covered the platform, ones just like him. His new family, and all future heroes and heroines. All extraordinary, with stories to match their journey here. Hundreds looked to be milling about as they set down, so softly. Then the hatch open, and a breeze blew in, so fresh and clean.

He barely caught the next announcement, but managed to whisper an unheard thank you to the charioteer. A prayer under his breath as he gazed out. And thank you, Aradain, Creator and Father, for this wonderful gift of a new future to your wayward son and all your children.

Silver Hand Academy. This was it. My new home. It felt so good to say. An outpouring of his overflowing heart. His smile felt so bright, and eyes shining in happiness and wonder. He was here. After so long. And Headmistress Ion had been right! It was more than she could ever hope to describe in a few words.
Children began to stream out of the charioteer, a few carrying personal possessions while most seemed to be relying on their hyperspace storage units. He lifted his cithara case in hand, standing beside the aisle to let others pass first, gazing still outside through the open gateway to world beyond on the high platform.
A roll call? He slipped into the flow and walked outside, case under arm. The warm sunlight beating down on his bronzed skin, so high in the lovely red sky. The feel of the platform on the soles of his feet. The cry of gulls as they circled overhead. The cool west wind blowing through his hair, the smell of the sea in his nostrils. The sounds of voices in the hundreds, thousands, as introductions were made and everyone gathered together. Cheer and bustling about, energy abounding. So vibrant and lively!

Aris followed the voice, and his sight set upon a younger man, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. And a voice with a tinge of musicality. An upperclassmen, and guide. Perhaps a member of the orchestra as well? A musician certainly, and perhaps a singer too!

He was tall. Quite tall, and strong-looking, alike the great ironoaks that stood welcome guard over Delphi’s gardens, offering shade and shelter to all with arms open wide and an expectant smile. A good man. Someone to emulate, admire. And with silvery-white hair and warm amber eyes just like his own! A little strange, but a welcome surprise. Like finding a long lost sibling, an older brother almost. Would wonders cease? The uniform he knew from the brochures and stories he heard. But the symbol on his chest opposite the Phantom Blade. And the silver-trimmed robe of gold. A member of something else too perhaps? A Student Council? Or simply to identify senior students? A shake of his head. First he would answer the call and introduce himself. Questions later. He was so curious though! This new world to discover. And all the people and places in it.
Walking over, he slid beside Ellyn, case in hand and waited for the others present to finish introducing themselves. He took another moment to bask in the warm light and all the sights, and look again at her. His heart felt like a star born anew here. It’s all so wonderful. Even his own dreams weren’t this good!

Mehran. Studious in his silence. Another boy, almost uncaring by posture. Arogisl, first to speak, surprisingly formal in words and bearing. Vyna and Jynna, curiously close together. Travel sickness? More to it than that, I believe. But what could be hurting the girl so much the sisters had to hide the cause? Then Koren, polite as usual as he projected himself again. Ellyn, ever so beautiful and lovely. A new girl, Anaya, nervous, but steadily becoming more comfortable.

A few more words, first from Mehran, and the other boy, Eamonn, then the sisters. And so different from in the carriage! They would share in time, though. A brief silence. Go.

“Akaion, here; please call me Aris. And glad to meet you too, Arcander. I’m in your care,” he answered warmly, smiling bright as he nodded in greeting, not bothering in trying to hide his happiness. He felt he should be honest and upfront with this man. Arcander Brightshield. Though his accent slipped through a bit at that. And a little too bold perhaps. But. It was all so much, this fantastic first day, this new beginning. So exciting! Wonderstruck was the word of the day!

He was finally here. After so long. So much anticipation and effort. He looked up into the sky, hand shielding his eyes as he basked in the sunlight like a spotlight. And declared to himself.

The future begins now!
Last edited by Sil Arion on Sun Dec 14, 2014 8:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Dec 14, 2014 10:56 pm

As he finished greeting the recruits who had already made their way to him, their senior and guide, and continued calling the names of those who were yet to arrive to him, Arcander noticed another student headed in his direction. This time it was another girl, a pretty one, with golden locks of hair. She seemed excited, as were many of the other students who had arrived to the Academy that day, which was perfectly understandable. The white-haired man would lie if he were to claim that he had not been filled with joy and anticipation himself the day he had arrived at that very same landing platform, years ago. And so had been the guide that had been assigned to him back when he was a mere recruit, and more than likely, that guide's guide as well. Being accepted in the Silver Hand Academy was an amazing thing already, but to actually arrive was on a completely different level. Understanding this, he gave the girl the same welcoming smile he had given the other recruits and welcomed her formally.

"Welcome to the Academy, Ellyn. I'm Arcander Brightshield. If you just wait here for a bit, we'll head for the auditorium when the rest of you arrive." He explained to the girl, crossing her name off the list as he had done with the others.

Looking back up, he noticed yet another girl standing in front of him, one who seemed to be a tad nervous. This, too, he understood perfectly. While it was not something he had felt himself upon his arrival, enthralled by the sights as he was, many of his companions back then had definitely been nervous, and he knew why. The Silver Hand Academy, it was a name that inspired respect and admiration all across the Known Universe. The reasons for this were far too numerous to list, as many people had different concepts of the Academy and not all of them originated from any sort of first-hand experience, but the general opinion was that the school had very high standards, something that, while by no means false, made many nervous about being there and, more importantly, staying there. Thus, he couldn't blame the girl for it, though he could try to help a little. "Yes, indeed, Phaenan, good to see you. I'm Arcander Brightshield, your guide. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. We'll head for the auditorium in a bit." He explained.

Not long after that, the two silent students who had arrived first finally spoke up, and Arcander nodded at them affably. They didn't seem too terribly excited to be here, unlike some of the previous arrivals, which was somewhat disappointing, though he could only hope that they would come to appreciate their stay, no matter the reasons for their lack of interest. "Very well. Eamonn and Mehran then. Welcome to the Academy." He said, crossing them off as well and moving on to address one of the two noble sisters he had met not long ago, the taller one with the blonde hair. Hearing her inquiries, especially the last one, made the guide chuckle ever so slightly, amused by her, though not in a bad way. "Well, I would advise you to refer to me as Brightshield in front of the Academy's staff, but aside from that, feel free to call me Arc, Jyn. It's what everyone calls me." He said kindly, sparing a glance at the white-haired sister. She definitely seemed to be quite uncomfortable here, for some reason. It was probably not travel sickness, as the blonde one had claimed, but it was also not a good moment to address her about that, not in front of everyone. It was probably nothing serious anyway, as the girl didn't seem to display much other than some discomfort, or so Arcander hoped.

After a brief silence, another boy who had arrived spoke up to introduce himself. He was obviously one of the more excited newly arrived recruits, unlike the Xorshid. An honest and clear young man, with hair and eyes the same color as his, oddly enough, though their features were still different enough to make it clear that they were not related, or at least not closely so. Hearing the boy's intrdouction and greeting, Arcander simply continued smiling. "Yes, of course. Leave it to me, Aris." He replied, nodding at the musician, before returning to his routine, crossing the new arrivals off the list and calling the names of those who were yet to arrive. Only two names left, and then they could leave for the auditorium. "Aspirlacial. Hygbros." He called, pausing after every second call before continuing. "Aspirlacial. Hygbros..."
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Escalan Corps-Star Island
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Escalan Corps-Star Island » Mon Dec 15, 2014 11:49 am

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Suddenly, turbulence. A spearhead of light, born from the void and bound for the void, cruised past the chariot, causing it to shake violently, the wagon spinning around several times from the force with which the unknown object passed next to it. . .
"I apologize for the disturbances the chariot has just experienced. However, it appears that nothing grave has happened, so, please remain calm for the remainder of the journey. We have just arrived at Cathedral Arcadia. We will be landing soon." The soft voice of the charioteer said through the vessel's speakers in an attempt to make sure that the recruits would be tranquil during the last stage of their journey. And indeed, if they had become distracted with the strange event that had just transpired, they would now undoubtedly notice that they had finally arrived at the Red Citadel, the land of skies of crimson. Through their windows, they would be able to see, above, the red skies that had given the Cathedral its nickname, and below, the colorful, bountiful lands and the magnificent oceans that reflected the skies, causing the optical illusion that the sea down below was in fact an enormous, fluctuating landmass of precious rubies.

As the chariot swiftly lost altitude in its descent towards its destination, the most gifted sights would be able to see, down below, amidst the sea, a speck of white, naught but a point of light in a swirling canvas of cosmic lifeblood. As the seconds passed, others would be able to see it as well, and before long, they would all be able to make out certain details of it, identifying it as a man-made structure. A tall, towering building, surrounded by the reflective water and the occasional stone formations poking out of the water, it was quite obviously one of the most sophisticated work of the Redemit kind. Green fields and even trees adorned the top, along with statues of ancient legends of the Phantom Blade, like Sylvalladine and Kaios, and on a large circular platform, separate from the rest of the school, one could clearly see the sign of the Phantom Blade, set in the middle of a large, silver glove, the symbol that represented the Silver Hand Academy of the Phantom Blade.


Kiri had been on the verge of offering a response to Arogisl when her attention was torn away. Momentarily captivated by the bolt of light, she watched as it continued its tumultuous and lonely journey. Pausing for an instant and hardly hearing the odd voices over the airwaves, she watched the stars out the window, looking after the mysterious phenomenon until the first red wisps of cloud began to obscure her vision. Only then did she seat herself again, having heard the announcement about their imminent arrival. As the clouds thinned again, she looked down from where she sat to the distant white spire of the Academy, alone and tranquil against the crimson backdrop of the ocean. This was a far cry from Kusanagi, where she was born, but in looking at the architecture of the structure, she thought suddenly of home.

Typically Kiri was not over-inclined to sentimentality, but for whatever reason– perhaps something to do with the slight sadness the bolt of light had aroused in her– the girl remembered the one time in her life she had seen military units of the Phantom Blade. Her father had needed to travel to the administrative headquarters of the Cathedral to have his merchant's license renewed, and he had kindly offered to take her along. Kusanagi was a fairly small Cathedral as far as circumference was concerned, so the major centers of population were situated along the high-speed rail line that girdled the equator, catapulting inhabitants to and from their respective homes and workplaces. As an eleven-year-old, she had been fascinated with and delighted by these sleek-looking vehicles, and had a habit of stopping under the pylons for the elevated rails on her way home from school to watch the red-and-white carriages fly by overhead, the breeze ruffling her hair as it rolled off the soundless rails.

Naturally, she leapt at the chance to travel, and delight overtook her upon arrival in the capital when she discovered there was a foreign corporate delegation in town for the day– they were sure to have an honour guard as much to make them feel important and welcome as to make them feel safe. As with all things of such a bureaucratic nature, there was a line to wait in and forms to be signed. While her father dealt with the formalities, Kiri wandered about the main floor of the building, dancing in the light that streamed through tall, red-tinted windows and slashing about with an imaginary blade or two. She stopped in front of a sealed bloodwood door, looking up in wonderment at the two individuals who flanked it. One was male and one female, and the markings (5th one down) on their armour matched the tint of the bloodwood door they guarded. They smiled at her; the woman set her helm on the floor and dropped to one knee.

Kiri remembered asking them if they were indeed Knights of the Phantom Blade, and politely asking if she could see one of their swords. It had been so heavy, she thought, recalling the way the hilt had dragged down on her slender arms. The woman had smiled and placed one worn hand on hers, helping her to lift it and waken the blade. Kiri could feel the energy pulsing through the elegant but simple hilt of the weapon as the crimson blade shimmered and danced in the warm, dusty air.

She had been that way when her father walked in looking for her. He smiled, thanked the knight warmly, and took her hand to lead her out of the building and on towards home. Later that day, she had sworn to her parents that she would become a knight and defend them and their Order. It had seemed such a distant dream at the time, and to think that she was now en route to achieving just that goal. . . She smiled in spite of herself, corners of her mouth pulling up brightly. She saw Arogisl out of the corner of her eye glance over, but ignored him as she continued to look at the structure, the chariot drawing ever closer to its sleek, sun-warmed surface. Beautiful indeed. The nearer she got, the more she could discern the windows and other irregularities in the smooth facets of the towers, their dozens of floors rising like the fins of some massive fish from the placid ocean at their feet. As they set down on the pad proper, she looked over the sea of faces, seeing nobody even vaguely familiar, and debarked the shuttle with nary a rearward glance.

As her name was called, she dawdled briefly, looking around at the sky, sea, and building for a few heartbeats before sauntering calmly over to Arcander. She sized him up: although he was an Aspirant, he didn't seem to pretentious, and he was kinda cute with the white hair and all. . . The real question was whether or not she could whip his tail in a fight, and right now the answer probably sounded a bit like "NO". Furrowing her brow, she tapped her foot for an instant as she decided what to say, and then looked up at him and offered, "Aspirlacial." The accompanying smirk should be enough to make him pay attention, she reasoned. . .

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The Unites State-Of-Minds
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Ex-Nation

Postby The Unites State-Of-Minds » Mon Dec 15, 2014 8:09 pm

Charmera wrote:As they got there, they noticed one of the others introducing himself. Jynna smile warmly while Vyna smiled awkwardly, trying to mask how obviously uncomfortable she was. "Hello, I'm Jynna and this is Vyna. We're the two Ayendors... We're sisters." She then looked over at Arogisl, pausing. "She's... travel sick, is all..." She weakly lied to both of them.


Noticing the looks of the more vocal sister, Arogisl conjured up a weak smile and gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. The other was obviously uncomfortable, and whatever the reason for it, he had no motivation to interfere. Calling attention to it or trying to involve himself would surely be of little value, and most likely would only serve to exacerbate whatever issues were at hand. After all, the girl had her sister with her, who surely was better equipped than he to deal with any problems as they arose.

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:-Snip-


Arogisl relaxed his posture, but retained his stance at the order to ease by his guide. Well, perhaps order was not the correct term, as he seemed rather dismissive of formalities Arogisl thought appropriate for introductions. Despite this, he did not appear condescending in manner, and in fact appeared rather affable in nature. As far as appearances went, he didn't seem much older then himself, and while white hair was not terribly uncommon, the amber shaded irises certainly were a new sight leading Arogisl to intentionally divert his gaze away so as not to find himself staring. He may have been told to relax, but he certainly wanted no possibility of any action or word causing offense, which as always left the safest option being to wait exactly as he was and observe until circumstances altered themselves.

There was a certain...informality about the man; Relaxed, yet fully aware of his surroundings. It was clear that between them existed a gap of uncertain measure in skill, with Arogisl coming up short by far. He couldn't yet distinguish if his developing feeling was one of admiration or respect, most likely the latter as the former would normally require more exposure, although the presence projected by the man was certainly an impressive one, not quite intimidating, but enough to make him wary. In his momentary delay of action, most of the other names called by their guide worked their way over, and it seemed that most of those he payed attention to from the chariot were of the same group as he. The guide gave his name to one of the others at their greeting, Arcander Brightshield. A name he would have to remember. Even if he was to find very little, he hoped to put whatever he could into finding out from what his new colleagues emerged, and of the most important to do so would be his superiors. Placing the name along that of Aspirlacial, he debated for a moment before deciding to look them up in chronological order. Chronological was always easier to recall then other methods of sorting.

Escalan Corps-Star Island wrote:-Snip-


One of the last remaining students approached and introduced themselves while Arogisl mulled over the unfolding events. Glancing in her direction he noticed it was the girl who had taken a tumble back aboard the chariot, Aspirlacial. He had wondered about her and was somewhat pleased to see her again, and his memory of her brought a slight grin to his face. He allowed himself a few moments of the expression before e wiping his face of the expression and shifting his gaze about their group. It seemed they were short only by one now...

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Zarkenis Ultima
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Tue Dec 16, 2014 5:26 pm

Finally, another student arrived at where he stood, which Arcander appreciated. By his calculations, the welcoming ceremony was about to begin, and indeed, though still quite crowded, the landing platform was no longer as full as it had been upon the arrival of the recruits. The student in question seemed to be thinking about something for a moment, tapping her foot on the floor for a moment before finally looking up and pronouncing her name, which he instantly recognized as one of the two he had been calling, Aspirlacial. Now knowing that she was one of the two students that he had yet to cross off from the list, he nodded at her. "Ah, Aspirlacial. Alright then, welcome to the Silver Hand Academy. If you just wait a bit with us, we'll head for the auditorium soon." He explained to her. Now, there was only one student who was yet to arrive. Fortunately, the student in question, Hygbros, arrived not too long after, introducing himself without a hitch. All of them had finally gathered together, and so, it was time for Arcander to make the next step and take them to the welcoming ceremony. Thus, he put the list on one of his pockets and spoke up.

"Very well, since you are all here now, we'll be heading to the auditorium for the welcoming ceremony. If any of you feel nervous at any point, just remember to follow the instructions, and everything should work out fine." He stated, giving everyone a reassuring smile before turning around and beginning to walk away. With a steady pace, he walked to a door on the landing platform that led to an empty room. Long stairs descended into the depths of the tower, before revealing another door. Upon crossing it, Arcander and the recruits found themselves on a long empty hallway. A transluscent ceiling and walls of similar properties allowed them to see the vermilion skies above, and if they looked to their sides, they would undoubtedly notice: There were other such hallways, many others, all around them, all of them with groups of new arrivals led by an aspirant clad in a golden robe just like Arcander's. Many of said recruits were quite surprised at the strange sight before them. Many others were eagerly talking among themselves, not too concerned, and yet others seemed to be trying to communicate with people from the other corridors in quite amusing ways.

Arcander's group continued walking, eventually reaching another door, which led to a different hallway, a larger one, no longer transparent, where they quickly blended into a long line of students headed in the same direction. After navigating through the school in such fashion, they arrived, at last, to the auditorium. As they walked in, they would see an pristine white room of enormous proportions. Austerely decorated, it was mostly blank, except for the large symbol that represented the Silver Hand Academy, plastered on the front wall. Also on the front was a raised stage, with a podium on it. At the present moment, it was empty, but it was more than evident that at least some members of the staff would be present there, most likely to give a speech and welcome the new students. For the time being, however, no such personalities were there.

However, the absence of staff members did not mean that the auditorium was empty. No, quite the opposite. The auditorium was in fact brimming with students, both those with the silver-trimmed golden robes and those without them, as well as many students who, instead of a golden robe, bore a blood red one on their shoulders, with the same symbol on the back. Recruits, trainees and aspirants alike filled the place, but perhaps more impressive was the fact that the room was easily able to fit them all inside comfortably, clearly designed specifically with such events in mind. They were, however, arranged in a somewhat peculiar way. At the back of the room, the blood-robed students were formed in groups, though each group was carefully alligned with the others, giving an orderly look. And then, at the very front of the room, between the blood-robed students and the stage, were the recruits, arranged into groups as well, each group standing in front of two golden-robed students. This was the idea, at least, and many students had already been formed in such manner, but not all of them, understandably, as many had just arrived and many more were yet to arrive.

This, however, did not seem to deter Arcander in the slightest. Motioning for the recruits behind him to follow, the tall man walked forth, weaving a path for them through the masses of students present in the auditorium, frequently looking back to make sure that all of the recruits were following him, and other times looking around the auditorium, as if searching for someone, though his confident stride indicated that he knew exactly where to go, even if he seemed to be looking for a specific person. Eventually, he stopped this, simply continuing to walk through the auditorium, finally arriving at a spot near the opposite end, close the stage and the front of the room. Finally, they had arrived at their place.

There, Arcander approached another golden-robed student who stood in front of him and the recruits. She was a striking young woman of about the same age, minute when placed next to Arcander, but still somewhat tall for a girl. Her head was graced by a cascade of fiery hair like the vermilion skies and the bleeding seas of Arcadia, flowing freely in thin locks down to her waist. Her face was soft and with a tinge of regality, but with a pair of sublime gray eyes, almost silver but not quite, giving her an air of authority and power, not physical, but spiritual. Her figure was quite feminine, and yet at the same time she looked more than capable of holding her own in a fight, a testament to the ability which had led her to become an aspirant in the first place. She had her back straight and her arms crossed in front of her chest, standing next to two pedestals, one bearing an ornamented metal sword, the likes of which were only used in ceremonies, and another bearing a device of sorts in the shape of the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy. Just like Arcander, she had a golden robe with that very same symbol on her back, and bore the same uniform as everybody else, though this one was without any sort of variation, unlike the one Arcander wore, which had the green flame and crescent moon.

"Aressa. I bring you our charges." Arcander said to the other student, motioning towards the recruits with some theatrical flair. However, his fellow aspirant seemed unimpressed, and merely nodded at him before looking at the recruits.

"Very well." She replied, her voice soft and calm, though even then it bore a component of authority. The aspirant addressed by Arcander as Aressa then introduced herself. "It is my pleasure to meet you all. My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be your guide along with Brightshield here. I assume you have already been told that we are here for the welcoming ceremony, so I will not say anything about it. As long as you are capable of following instructions, everything should proceed smoothly." She explained politely as she casually analyzed each of the recruits with those two gray orbs of hers. "However," She continued after a pause. "we should still have a bit of time until the ceremony actually begins, so, if you happen to have any questions, now would be the ideal time to ask them, as interruptions during the ceremony will not be tolerated." She stated, giving them an offer and a warning for them to take or leave.
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Wolfenium
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Postby Wolfenium » Tue Dec 16, 2014 7:57 pm

Stepping into the massive hall after Arcander, Mehran would be lying if he did not feel awed by the space. Mervarid's enormous underground libraries were by far the only spaces comparable in size, but the nigh-infinite columns of stuffed shelves would have made anyone claustrophobic instead. It had a homely feel to it; nothing wrong with that. Halting in front of another of their guides, he watched with a bit of annoyance as Arcander introduced them to her.

"We're not children, by Jove," he grumbled under his breath, "I'd rather just get to studies."

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Aressa. I bring you our charges." Arcander said to the other student, motioning towards the recruits with some theatrical flair. However, his fellow aspirant seemed unimpressed, and merely nodded at him before looking at the recruits.

"Very well." She replied, her voice soft and calm, though even then it bore a component of authority. The aspirant addressed by Arcander as Aressa then introduced herself. "It is my pleasure to meet you all. My name is Aressa Alistar, and I will be your guide along with Brightshield here. I assume you have already been told that we are here for the welcoming ceremony, so I will not say anything about it. As long as you are capable of following instructions, everything should proceed smoothly." She explained politely as she casually analyzed each of the recruits with those two gray orbs of hers. "However," She continued after a pause. "we should still have a bit of time until the ceremony actually begins, so, if you happen to have any questions, now would be the ideal time to ask them, as interruptions during the ceremony will not be tolerated." She stated, giving them an offer and a warning for them to take or leave.


However, before he could pose his question, another voice echoed his sentiment in a far less enthusiastic tone. Speaking from behind the group, Eamonn asked in an unhesitating voice, "when does training start? Can I skip the welcoming ceremony? I'm not good with waiting through mundane speeches."

It was a direct question, and a grim one. Observing the young... man(?), Mehran could tell he was not asking out of sheer anticipation for studies. Moreover, he explicitly stated 'training' instead of 'studies', which showed his eagerness for combat and magic training, in addition to his impatience for preachy welcoming speeches. To be honest, Mehran would have asked something similar. However, even he would not put such as cynical spin to his queries and come off like a jerk.
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Escalan Corps-Star Island
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Escalan Corps-Star Island » Wed Dec 17, 2014 3:45 pm

Kiri's first impressions of the auditorium were, quite naturally, its size and blandness. She had seen other rooms of comparable dimensions on occasion at home, but those had been more richly decorated, often with panelled walls and ceiling, and great chandeliers hanging from the rafters. This seemed rather austere by comparison, though it managed to be not inelegant at the same time. Glancing around at the other students already gathered there, the rigid order in which they stood bothered her a bit. It wasn't that she hated organisation, but her family had always kidded that she had an affinity for making a mess. And they were probably right– when she was younger, she would have friends over and promptly tear the cushions off every piece of furniture in the house to build a citadel in the entry hall, from which they would assault any poor soul who opened the door.

The memory made her smile– too bad there didn't look to be much furniture around, let alone cushions. Sighing, she continued to follow Arcander, weaving through the crowds of unfamiliar faces in the aspirant's wake. The red robes look prettier than the white, she thought to herself as she walked. I should find out what exactly they mean when I have a spare moment. I should also think about roommates. . . maybe the girl the singer was making moony faces over? She seems nice enough, and I'd get to mess with them if they start going out or something. That would be great!

The recruit in front of her stopped so quickly she almost tripped and plowed into him, but she caught herself just in time. She poked her head around his arm, hair falling to the side as she listened to Arcander. He introduced someone she couldn't see as "Aressa", and when she stepped into the light Kiri was surprised at her natural gifts. She wasn't jealous, though; such things were inconvenient and attracted the wrong sort of attention. She looked for the singer to see his reaction, but couldn't find him. The girl heard Aressa state her last name as "Alistar", and her attention returned. Alistar. Wasn't there an Alistar with Uncle in the Chalice War? She resolved to ask the Aspirant the question, and tried to jostle her way closer to the front of the group.

"Excuse me," she called in an uncharacteristically polite fashion, "but did you happen to have any parents who served as Knights of the Phantom Blade? Your name sounds familiar."

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Zarkenis Ultima
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Wed Dec 17, 2014 11:52 pm

After offering to answer any questions the recruits still had, Aressa merely continued observing them, analyzing them with an inquisitive gaze. However, soon enough, she heard one of them, Eamonn, speak up. Listening to the question he uttered, she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, amused at the boldness of the question. She let her arms drop and walked up to the student in question, stopping some distance in front of him. "I am afraid that skipping the welcoming ceremony is not possible, MacÌomhair. I am truly sorry that your self-discipline seems to be in such a poor state, but as a student of the Silver Hand Academy, you are expected to follow the traditions that have been in place for over six hundred years." She explained, before tilting her head slightly at the student before her.

"Honestly, you should have known about these traditions. No matter if you were invited or applied to attend to the Academy, what kind of person would agree to come without doing a bit of research? Surely even prestige cannot be so blinding, much less so for someone who does not belong to the Phantom Blade." She spoke, honestly believing what she said, not scolding Eamonn or chastising him for his lack of foresight as she was merely stating her opinion on the matter. She crossed her arms in front of herself once again and then resumed talking. "Regardless, your training will be provided according to the schedule of the Academy, not when it is demanded. For all of you, your training and studies will commence tomorrow. Until then, you will have to be patient. The ceremony should not take too long from beginning to end, and you will have some time to relax afterwards, so make sure not to interrupt and everything will proceed nicely." She said, finishing with a nod. She could understand the eagerness of some to begin with their instruction in the arts of battle at once, but something like skipping the ceremony was strictly forbidden and she, as an aspirant and as the guide of these recruits, had to see such a ruling enforced.

Not long after she had finished talking to Eamonn, Aressa noticed another recruit trying to get to the front of the group. A girl with long black hair and purple eyes. She asked in a rather courteous manner about her family, specifically those who might have served as Knights of the Order, stating that her name seemed familiar. At this, the red-haired aspirant sighed and replied with a nod. "The Alistars have always been loyal to the Order of the Phantom Blade. Most of my family has served in the Phantom Host. My father Mercius is still in service, fighting the heathens in the Low North West. My great-grandfather, Aurelius, served in the Chalice War, as well as his brother, Arcadius." She stated, before turning around. "...I would appreciate it if you did not dwell on it too much." She added afterwards, no longer making eye contact with the girl as she returned to her post at the front of the group, next to the pedestals.

"Arc, formation." She snapped suddenly, making a gesture with her hand. Arcander, who had been standing off to the side as Aressa spoke with the students, immediately looked at the front of the auditorium, noticing a door opening. Through it stepped a man, a man with short, well-trimmed hair, painted gray by the passing of time. Those closest to the front would be able to tell that his face, slightly wrinkled as befitting his age, was one of stern features. His skin was tanned by the suns of countless battlegrounds, and his step was slow, but inexorable. He was old, yes, quite old. He was, in fact, several hundred times older than the oldest student in the room, easily. And yet, despite that, it was no difficult task to look beyond the gray hairs on his head and the wrinkles on his face and see the venerable soldier that he was, tempered in the battlefields for so many decades. His body was no longer that of a warrior in his prime, but he was a warrior, there was no arguing that. Over his shoulders he wore a black robe with silver embroidery and the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy on the back, much like the golden and red ones worn by the aspirants and the trainees, except for the color, evidently.

Immediately, Arcander set to work. "Alright then. New recruits are required to stand at attention, but first, you and you, stand here. You, give her that spot and stand here..." He started, giving out a handful more similar instructions until everyone was standing at attention in their given positions, before moving to stand at attention himself, occupying a spot next to the pedestals, behind Aressa. Every sound in the auditorium died down swiftly, leaving nothing to be heard but the hushed respiration of the students present, and the echoing footsteps of the old man in the black robe, who had already crossed part of the room and was now walking up a couple of steps to ascend to the stage. He soon reached the podium at the very center, and once there, he finally turned towards the back, staring down at the students. And if they looked carefully, they would see, once again, sublime gray eyes, giving the man an intimidating gaze.

"Children." He spoke, his strong voice echoing throughout the whole auditorium without the need for a device to augment the sound, his first word boldly contradicting Mehran's mutterings. "Children from beyond the sky. Children of the Phantom Blade. Children from beyond our stars. For centuries, these halls have served as the training grounds of many. Now, they will serve as the training grounds for you. Whether you are here to become mighty warriors or powerful mages, I have only one thing to say to you." He said, pausing and letting the echo of his words die down before continuing. "Never forget the reason you are here." He stated firmly, and then folded his hands into his sleeves. "I welcome you, on behalf of the council, to the Silver Hand Academy. The aspirants may proceed." He concluded. As a speech, it was quite short, yes, and with very little of the embellishment used by many other public figures everywhere. But it certainly got the message through. It was short and to the point. Such was the style of Augustus Alistar, who now gazed sternly upon the thousands of young souls in front of him.

As soon as the head of the council had pronounced the word 'proceed', Aressa and Arcander, who had been deathly still before, began moving once again. The red-haired aspirant turned around to face the recruits once again, taking the small device in the shape of the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy with one of her hands and gripping the hilt of the ceremonial metal blade with the other. Arcander, meanwhile, had moved to the back of the group, next to a small platform which had risen from the ground, bearing what appeared to be several dull gray robes.

"The first of you may step forward." Arcander called from the back of the group, though his voice had suddenly adopted a martial edge which made it clear that it was not a request, but an order.

Once the first person had stepped forward, Aressa took the device in her right hand and pressed it unto the uniform of the student before her, imprinting the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy upon their right breast.

"I name thee a student." She stated solemnly. Afterwards, upon their shoulders, Arcander placed one of the dull gray robes from the pedestal that had risen from the ground, before stepping back to his place at the back of the group. Aressa raised the metal blade and, with surgical precision, lowered it upon the student's left shoulder, stopping just above the cloth of the robe. However, though it did no damage to the robe, or to the uniform, or indeed to the student's arm, such a movement did sever a thread of the robe. And with that severed thread, the dull gray cloth slid off, falling away and seemingly fading into nothingness, revealing what was underneath: A robe of shining silver, with embroidery of gold and the symbol of the Silver Hand Academy, outlined in red. The silver equivalent of the golden robes of the aspirants, it could be said.

"I pronounce thee a recruit." The red-haired aspirant stated, before raising the blade from the student's shoulder and motioning for them to circulate to the back of the group.

"The next of you may step forward." Arcander said, and so the second would step forward...
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Sil Arion
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Founded: May 07, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Sil Arion » Fri Dec 19, 2014 8:27 pm

Aris followed as Arcander led them, from the platform standing so high above the sea, then descending into the Academy. To its heart. And the welcoming ceremony.
The senior led them down a long well of stairs, passing their way through great sliding doors into a high hallway seemingly made glass and air, the crimson skies above clearly visible, the shining sun wreathed in clouds of white and gold. Marveling at the architecture, he viewed other groups of recruits following behind other gold-cloaked seniors, dozens upon dozens in hallways just like their own. He was not alone in his watching, and he waved to several across from, and to those above and below. There was much pointing, laughter and waves and funny gestures as people tried to communicate without sound. When one boy in particular plastered his face to the window to his left, he chuckled some himself. Everyone is so filled with cheer! With excitement! It was wonderful.

Another door, and the transparent walls ceased. Larger, and more doors and ornate halls. And it was all so beautiful. Moving pictures of past heroes and heroines greeting them as he passed, the scenes of famous battles playing out on screens, busts of white marble and grand statues recessed in the walls, ensconced with flower beds. But he did manage to memorize the route, for all the beauty about and great labyrinthine corridors. Then, an auditorium. An austere room of pristine white. And utterly massive. By Aradain, this dwarfs even the sanctuary at Delphi. It was like a coliseum, and could likely seat tens of thousands in its many tiers recessed in the towering walls, all surrounding a central stage like a great amphitheater, a podium at the front. Only the lowermost tier was occupied though, as recruits streamed in by the hundreds from many dozen doors, clad in their plain mantles as the followed their guides. It was magnificent. And could likely fit every person at the Academy in this one room. But where are the Masters? The Headmaster? He saw no staff standing about. Or adults at all. But there were other senior students, garbed in cloaks red as blood, and standing in their own groups. Who could they be?

Arcander wove his way through the masses, and Aris followed, trailing with everyone else just behind. As they walked nearer the stage, he could only gaze up. Up into the deep empty space, at the ceiling so far above as sunlight streamed in, welcoming the warmth on his bronzed skin, a contrast to the cool indoor air. A glance, and he stepped up beside Arcander, who had stopped before a young woman. She was rather pretty, indeed, perhaps beautiful suited her. Though she was only a star in the sky compared to Ellyn, hi sun. But there was an air of authority about her, a nobleness. And her uniform. Her cloak. It was slightly different. Perhaps an outstanding student? Certainly someone special. Someone who deserved respect, and one he should listen to. Aspire to emulate, like Arc.

Aressa Alistar. She nodded to them all, rather austerely. Aris nodded back politely, smiling faintly. Then she spoke. Definitely one who bears the mantle of responsibility. She felt familiar though. Almost like he’d met someone like her. A relative of hers. But where?

Regardless. One of their guides was apparently even exceptional among the some of the best aspirants of the Silver Hand. He felt blessed at that, and so whispered a brief prayer of thanks. There was so much for him to be thankful, truly. However they’d been chosen for this honor, they still had been. To give his all to learn from their example, and to join with them as family. He would give his all.

Oh. Dear. Eamonn. So direct, but rather rude. And disrespectful. Did that boy know even less then he knew coming here? The little research he could do himself at least notified him of the welcoming ceremony, certainly one of the important traditions. He gazed around at the others behind him, gaging their responses. It appeared only a few others had similar feelings, Mehran unsurprisingly among them. Though Kiri was looking rather… Devious? He knew that look at too well. Blasted twins. She was going to be fun to deal with. She seemed the type. Perhaps retaliatory prank was in order after the first blow was struck?

Ouch. He winced slightly as he caught Aressa’s rebuke for Eamonn. She was certainly direct herself, and authoritative. But honest, and still respectful.

Another noble soul. But do all in these halls share this disposition? A miracle if true. Delphi hadn’t been perfect by any stretch, with some of the less-than-polite aristocrats.

Wait. Arcadius? She was related to the Red Knight himself? Simply incredible. He could only imagine the responsibility she bore then, the legacy of one such as that. But he didn’t speak. She was his senior after all, and family now. He’d obey her orders. So long as they were right and good. But he didn’t fear otherwise. He stood there, waiting then.

Soon after, she called for formation and he followed Arc’s directions. Front row, first from the center aisle. Once in place, he gazed around again, watching the thousands of other recruits as the sound of chatter petered off and a steady silence spread itself through the space.

Then he saw him. Striding down the center aisle, right past him. I know you. He knew this man, he knew him. While he knew not the face, the bearing, the posture, the aura. The same as the mysterious man he only knew as Augustus. The man who had chosen him in the blind interview, that aptitude exam he alone of all his family at Delphi passed. He memorized the man’s appearance, from the silver-grey hair like an ironoak’s bark, to the embroidered mantle set on shoulders like the black as the void. A Master.

From the podium the man spoke, and he listened with rapt attention. But he still heard the whispers of other students as they too focused their attentions on this man.

Augustus? It was him. But. He was astounded. The Headmaster himself had chosen him? The mysterious man who personally oversaw his test at the Cathedral Delphi was none other than the most powerful and wisest of all in the Phantom Blade? Incredible. Will wonders never cease here? He laughed internally at that. Aradain had ordained it, certainly, for all this to be, so miraculously. And the Headmaster must be related to Aressa somehow, by appearance and bearing, their aura of authority too much the same. Not father and daughter, no. Not enough similarities in physique. But perhaps as uncle and niece, or other close kin? Certainly.

Arcander’s voice cut through his thoughts, an edge to its tone. An order. He was first then? His trademark faint smile rose on his face as he strode up the short stairs, onto the platform for all to see.

He knelt before the altar, Aressa before him and Arcander beside, the right sunlight shining down, the stage arrayed in beams of gold as he bowed his head. An awesome, wonderful feeling permeated the very air, powerful yet serene. An invisible strength hanging just above and around him, strong and warm. As if his very future rested on this moment. And it did. He held himself motionless, bowed, as Aressa dubbed him with the gleaming sword-of-ceremony and Arcander spread a grey mantle over his shoulders. Another tap of her sword and the grey fell away, disappearing into the air to reveal a shining silver robe, embroidered finely in golden thread and light as air. But for all its lightness, he felt the weight of the Silver Hand on his back. The mantle of responsibility he now bore. And it was a welcome weight. This was it. This is my road; I now walk.

He rose then, smiling faintly, shoulders set as he gazed out at the awaiting others. His new family.

Then he was past, walking to the back as another took place on the stage. Moisture shone in his eye, but it was alright, taking his seat at the rear.

Thank you, Aradain, for this wonderful gift. He would do them proud. All of them. And for her. Ellyn.

Now to watch and wait. And this wonderful first day was still not yet done!
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Charmera
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Founded: Jan 18, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Charmera » Fri Dec 19, 2014 10:20 pm

Vynaria was next, the Ayendor sister stepped forward. She still looked somewhat uncomfortable, but seemed to be mostly able to deal with it. She stood strait and proud, a serious expression on her face, one of determination. She could not afford to show any more weakness now, especially not after she had embarrassed herself coming off the chariot. She was ashamed of how she had been so easily unnerved. She shouldn't have to rely on her sister for something as simple as navigating a crowd.

Once there, she paused, waiting to go through the same process Aris had. She had noticed how his eyes had been moistened afterwards. Again? There is no shame in crying... but he seems to do that a lot. She thought, suppressing a childish smirk. Ah... I shouldn't judge him for that. This is a big day in all our lives after all... Still... it's amusing. She ended such thoughts, keeping her eyes forward.

Jynna was further behind Vyna, a smile on her lips. Her sister seemed to be coping well now, though perhaps it was because everything was so orderly. She mentally shrugged, and her mind came back to this event, now. She did not doubt he most important step she would take in her life would be that one. I don't know whether I'm more excited or nervous... She thought to herself. Either way, I don't believe I'll be forgetting this moment... ever.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:And here, we see a wild Shittonicus Charactericus, coloquially known as Charmera, in its natural habitat. It seems to be displaying behavior expected from one of its kind, producing numerous characters and juggling them with its front paws.

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Wolfenium
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Founded: Jan 17, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Wolfenium » Fri Dec 19, 2014 11:25 pm

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:After offering to answer any questions the recruits still had, Aressa merely continued observing them, analyzing them with an inquisitive gaze. However, soon enough, she heard one of them, Eamonn, speak up. Listening to the question he uttered, she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, amused at the boldness of the question. She let her arms drop and walked up to the student in question, stopping some distance in front of him. "I am afraid that skipping the welcoming ceremony is not possible, MacÌomhair. I am truly sorry that your self-discipline seems to be in such a poor state, but as a student of the Silver Hand Academy, you are expected to follow the traditions that have been in place for over six hundred years." She explained, before tilting her head slightly at the student before her.

"Honestly, you should have known about these traditions. No matter if you were invited or applied to attend to the Academy, what kind of person would agree to come without doing a bit of research? Surely even prestige cannot be so blinding, much less so for someone who does not belong to the Phantom Blade." She spoke, honestly believing what she said, not scolding Eamonn or chastising him for his lack of foresight as she was merely stating her opinion on the matter. She crossed her arms in front of herself once again and then resumed talking. "Regardless, your training will be provided according to the schedule of the Academy, not when it is demanded. For all of you, your training and studies will commence tomorrow. Until then, you will have to be patient. The ceremony should not take too long from beginning to end, and you will have some time to relax afterwards, so make sure not to interrupt and everything will proceed nicely." She said, finishing with a nod. She could understand the eagerness of some to begin with their instruction in the arts of battle at once, but something like skipping the ceremony was strictly forbidden and she, as an aspirant and as the guide of these recruits, had to see such a ruling enforced.

Not long after she had finished talking to Eamonn, Aressa noticed another recruit trying to get to the front of the group. A girl with long black hair and purple eyes. She asked in a rather courteous manner about her family, specifically those who might have served as Knights of the Order, stating that her name seemed familiar. At this, the red-haired aspirant sighed and replied with a nod. "The Alistars have always been loyal to the Order of the Phantom Blade. Most of my family has served in the Phantom Host. My father Mercius is still in service, fighting the heathens in the Low North West. My great-grandfather, Aurelius, served in the Chalice War, as well as his brother, Arcadius." She stated, before turning around. "...I would appreciate it if you did not dwell on it too much." She added afterwards, no longer making eye contact with the girl as she returned to her post at the front of the group, next to the pedestals.


Eamonn... did not take it well. Hearing her rebuttal, he felt like she was mocking him for applying in the academy for the sake of pride. The fact was that he did his research on the academy, but only for the part that mattered to him - the training. Worse was her suggestion that prestige had any part to do with his decision. He did not become a student here just for the sake of being one. His teeth clenching behind his lips as his eyes began to widen with anger, he felt tempted to shoot back. Fortunately, Kiri had cut in with a question of her own, cutting short his tirade as his target turned her attention to her. Heaving quite heavily, he tried hard to calm back down. Releasing his fists, he finally got a grip of himself again. On hindsight, Eamonn realized how ridiculous he would have looked if he had barked back. Last thing he needed to do was make more enemies here. Wiping his face, he was having a difficult time shrugging off Aressa's comments.

'Alistar,' he thought, glancing back at Aressa, 'no wonder that name sounded familiar. Doesn't that makes her the Red Knight's great-grandniece?'

However, he did not appear that awed by Aressa, especially after she chewed him out. If anything, at least he was relieved she told them not to dwell on it. He would be a lot more pissed if she harped on the legacy of others, even her own kin. In retrospect, it really did not matter who her family was. She was a senior, plain and simple, and someone he expected to learn from in the coming days.

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:-snip-


Standing for his turn, Mehran quietly steeled his nerves for the ceremony to come. At the very least, he was willing to give the old headmaster some measure of respect by listening, no matter how grating those first lines were to him. But what struck him most was his last lines, a reminder of keep his own goals in focus. Giving a small sniff, Mehran quite easily took those words to heart, if only because he had every intention to follow them through.

Following through with the christening, Mehran showed every discipline that was required of a guardian of Xorshid. Stepping before the aspirants, he calmly took off his shades as he took a long bow. He was not the least enthralled with the painstaking procedure, keeping his expressionless facade from twisting into a sulk while he was presented his robes. But he was focused on his responsibilities as a representative of his homeworld and order, and he had no intention of slighting their name because of his own disposition. As long as it put him one step closer to the Phantom Blade's most prized tomes, he willing to take the dull, mind-numbing barrages of Aradain-esque propaganda for his entire term here.

Eamonn, In sharp contrast, acted just like a zombie. An unenthusiastic, shambling wight, he was barely putting in a minimum in terms of discipline as he went up the podium. At the very least, he was mindful not to make a scene, keeping his eyes fixed from rolling over or his frown corpsing onto his face. Stepping down as his turn was up, his gaze shifted over to the other students watching him. If anyone close enough had been attentive, they would notice something missing in his eyes. A dull emptiness sunk in despondence, his thoughts were now fixed solely on the day ahead - training.
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Estva
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Founded: Nov 26, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Estva » Sat Dec 20, 2014 7:08 pm

Koren quietly smirked when he hard the beat-down Eamonn received from Arissa. He was always one to enjoy such a thrashing, but he didn't think lesser of anyone for it.

After the verbal thrashing, people stared being called up to be declared students. First the others went, so Koren had time to stand back and think. He never had appreciation for feel-good ceremonies like this, but never spoke out because that was a good way to be branded unpopular, as what had happened to Eamonn.

As he stood there, Koren got to reflect upon his own prejudices. Many of the children here were noble, aristocrats, or oligarchs. Few of them made here on the scholarship money he had, many probably just made it on their parent's fortunes and made the minimum requirements for entry. Hatred grew in him, arming itself against many of the people that felt elevated over the common rabble. Even though he had no respect for many of the peasants he lived with, their lives were one of constant hardship and pain. Those not driven to obsolescence and thus death, were forced to prostitute themselves in degrading and shameful careers. And yet, here, the children of the elite solidified their nepotistic positions. The few that made in on their merits were exceptionally hard workers, and yet he felt they would never be enough. This school was simply the highlight of the generational nepotism that plagued the Redemit, especially in his home world. Koren's parents, if he were not successful, would likely live and die on their planet in their serf-like lifestyles.

Still, none of these contemplations were useful for him now. While he doubted the seniors were monitoring his thoughts, any hostile snarkiness would no doubt come through his body language and speech. He repressed these thoughts and put on his grateful appearance.

He would use this school for his needs. He would likely grow no pride for his membership here, and if anything he would grow a steady contempt for the longstanding institutional members. These ivory tower mages, so detached from the lives of the commoners, focused solely on the "big questions" all the while following the fanatical worship of the Red Blade. Critical thought here had a tenuous existence, with the sycophantic worship somehow coinciding with the expansion of young minds. The conflicts of the past left billions of unnamed dead, yet the focus is never on them. The focus is always on the heroes, always on the fanatics. The banality of life, its tediousness and repetition, is never focused on. Because here, life was not like that. Life here was not a constant effort for survival, it was an enjoyable experience where your life was set upon graduation. The billions who lived outside this institution were not cared for. This elitist institution disgusted every bone in Koren's body, but he suppressed such disgust. For now, he must bide his time.

Then, his name was called.
Last edited by Estva on Sat Dec 20, 2014 7:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Escalan Corps-Star Island
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Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Escalan Corps-Star Island » Sat Dec 20, 2014 10:03 pm

Kiri waited until nearly the end of the line, not out of nervousness for herself so much as a desire to see how the others reacted. Aris stepped forwards first, clearly shaken by the weightiness of the occasion, and perhaps by something else. She thought she might have seen tears in his eyes as he fell in in his original place. But instead of smirking or even ignoring him, she was curiously touched by the sight, and for a moment she felt as though a great weight of tradition and responsibility lay upon her shoulders. The sensation dissipated as the next of her acquaintances approached Aressa. One of the sisters, the slender one, stepped forwards with a more inscrutable expression, her sister following her quietly. Those two were curious, she decided; with such different personality she had no difficulty telling them apart, but it'd be interesting to try and understand the unspoken things that passed between them.

The Xorshid and another followed next, neither betraying their emotions with their countenance. I should really watch out around him, she thought silently. I really don't know his motives for coming here, but I kinda think they aren't based on training to be a warrior or mage of the Phantom Blade. Koren was the last to go before her, and he was the most interesting to watch. She could tell from the hard set of his shoulders and jaw as he waited that he felt. . . out-of-place, maybe even a bit irritated by the ceremony. Whereas she shared Aris' sense of tradition and history, enamoured as she was of stories about the Chalice War, she could tell that common sentiments lay elsewhere. In truth, Kiri doubted whether many of her future classmates took the ceremony entirely seriously. But no matter: as Koren's robes parted under the touch of the blade to reveal the silver beneath, she heard Aressa's voice only peripherally.

"I pronounce thee a recruit." The words rang in her ears strangely, the Aspirant's red locks almost glowing in the austere half-light of the hall. For an instant it seemed as if the surroundings were suffused with the red light of the skies; then she blinked and Koren was stepping back, looking pleased in spite of his tenseness. Arcander motioned her forwards, seventh in line. The girl shook her head lightly, hair falling to the right side of her face and partially covering her eye. She breathed in, savouring the general atmosphere of bated breath and quiet expectation that she knew so many shared. Here on the cusp of realising her goal of training to be a Knight, there was no hesitation in her heart save that which told her to pause and revel in the moment, ephemeral as it was.

Quietly she padded forwards, feeling the warm air caress her cheek and elicit an inaudible swish from the silky fabric of her uniform. Aressa lifted the small device in her hand. Raising her eyes to the older girl's face, she saw no special emotion in her eyes, just the same dark inscrutability that she had answered Kiri's earlier query with. Breathing in and swelling her chest, she felt the soft touch of the implement upon her chest, pressing not quite uncomfortably into the clothes she wore underneath. She resisted the urge to reach up and touch the symbol, waiting for an appropriate moment as Aressa spoke. "I pronounce you a student." Kiri twitched involuntarily; now came the fun part. Arcander lifted a grey robe and draped it around the girl's shoulders, the weight barely noticeable. Aressa lifted her blade ever so slightly before touching it to the sleeve of the robe. Something almost like an electric shock jolted through the Aspirlacial girl's arm, a fleeting purple spark flashing between the blade of the descending weapon and the edge of the cloak. Kiri blinked, this was a feeling she had felt once before under very different circumstances.

She shook the thought out of her mind, instead watching as the grey parted and fell aside, leaving only the evanescent silver of the robe behind. She lifted her hand slightly, feeling the airy fabric slide smoothly over her knuckles soundlessly. "I pronounce thee a student," came Aressa's voice as if from a great distance. Kiri glanced up again. There was perhaps a hint of unsettlement in the Aspirant's gaze, though she could very well be imagining it. Any further thoughts were batted aside carelessly as she turned to face her classmates-to-be, and she couldn't help but smile broadly as she processed back to her spot, purple eyes beautifully alight with pride and determination. Let them bring what they will. Challenges, duels, even studies– I can handle it now. And Father said he would send me something once I settled in. In the meantime, I want to see where I'm sleeping!

Falling in felt only vaguely anticlimactic, flushed with success as she felt at the moment. A few more had yet to go forwards, the blonde girl from the chariot among them. She watched with the same interest as she had before, in the meantime bouncing slightly as she stood ever-so-slightly on her toes.
Last edited by Escalan Corps-Star Island on Sat Dec 20, 2014 10:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Zarkenis Ultima
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Dec 21, 2014 12:45 pm

The moments passed, and the golden-robed students continued performing the initiation ceremony upon the recruits, placing upon them the silvery robes that identified them and displayed their rank within the school. These aspirants who were at the moment proclaiming these new recruits as students had, too, been crowned as such before in a similar ceremony days prior, as had the newest among the blood-robes. All of them had followed the traditions of the Silver Hand Academy, the way the recruits were doing now. One by one, they were crowned as members of the Silver Hand by the ceremonial metal blades held by the steady hands of the golden-robed aspirants, seniors of the recruits before them by eight years exactly, in regards to their time at the Academy. All of them, too, had been in the position of the ones now before them, standing in line until their turn came, advancing to the aspirant at the front and being proclaimed as a student by the seal and the blade and the robe. All of them had felt themselves become part of something greater, all of them had felt that warmth in their hearts as they were accepted by those who had come before them. And now, they transmitted that feeling to the ones who stood in front of them, the ones who had come after them, for now it was them who wore the golden robes, and it was them who held the seal, and the blade, and the robe.

"I proclaim thee a recruit." Aressa said in a firm tone, her voice calm and her hand steady as her blade descended upon the last student's shoulder, crowning them, too, as a member of the Silver Hand Academy, before allowing them to return to their place among their fellow recruits, all of them now officially part of the school, all of them now officially crowned students of the prestigious institution. Blades and seals were placed back upon their pedestals, though the silvery robes remained upon the shoulders of the students for them to bear, the symbol representing the Silver Hand Academy proudly stamped upon their backs. And as everything returned to its rightful place in the auditorium, the sounds slowly died down once again until only the agitated breathing of some of the more excited students broke the silence that permeated the chamber.

It was then that, once again, the man with the nigh-argent gaze spoke.

"I welcome you, once again, to the Silver Hand Academy. Here, you will learn to fight, and you will learn to bleed. You will learn to struggle. Not all of you will be in these halls in ten years. Not all of you will be in these halls in eight, or in four. Only those among you who truly wish to be here will truly reap the benefits of your stay. Only those of you who truly dedicate yourselves to the Academy may take away knowledge from its halls." Augustus spoke, his powerful voice once again reverberating through the whole hall, sinking into the minds of every student within reach. He made a small pause, allowing the echoes to fade, before continuing with a simple, brief sentence. "I dare you, children, to stay." He said sternly. After that, however, he turned his back on the students, facing the symbol at the far back of the room.

"We will now recite the Phantom Oath. Those among you who hail from distant lands, I ask you only for your respect and silence. Those of you who have come from the lands of Sylvalladine, repeat after me." He stated. Then, he raised his left arm, placing his hand upon the center of his chest, his forearm drawing a straight line parallel to the ground between his hand and his elbow. And as soon as his hand had settled, every student clad in gold and every student clad in red did exactly the same, raising their left hands and placing their hands on their chests, their posture perfectly straight and perfectly still. The silence had become something powerful and solemn, and now not even faint breathing could be heard over the sublime quiet atmosphere.

And then the Oath broke the silence and the man clad in robes of the void led the way with his voice, a symphony soon following.

"I, the wishful warrior,
Promise to become the shield of my people,
To bring lasting peace to our lands,
And protect them with my life;
Promise to become the sword of my people,
To bring swift defeat to our enemies,
And banish them with my might;
Promise to become the spirit of my people,
To bring hope to their hearts,
And inspire them with my light.
By the honor and blood of those who walked before us,
And the hearts and hopes of those who are yet to come,
I, the wishful warrior, promise to serve the Phantom Blade."


A truly melodious intonation drowned its own echo as it filled the air, a chant so symphonic it might well have been a song. The Phantom Oath, rumored to have been first pronounced by the Lady herself on a night with no moon as she held the shattered sword of her once lover in her hands, calling out to the endless void and enunciating not only her promise to protect and enlighten those who had vowed to follow her, but also her promise of everlasting love to the fallen warrior. Those words, spoken once so long ago by the holy maiden of moonlight hair and divine silver eyes, were now being recited by tens of thousands of souls in that pristine hall, and it was powerful, it was powerful indeed. Every aspirant, every newly crowned recruit, every blood robe pronounced the words at the same time. A single voice had made an incursion into the darkness of the room, and then a thousand more had light up the night with stars so bright they blinded the sun and gave sight to the blind and voice to the voiceless. Aressa, an aspirant who had pronounced these very same words countless times before, found herself just as enthralled by their significance as she had the very first time, and Arcander, himself foreign to the Phantom Blade, found it simply impossible to disrespect the words that were spoken in the room, such was their power. Magic in its purest state, that was what many had called the Phantom Oath before, and they were not too far from the truth.

After the Phantom Oath had been enunciated, Augustus took his hand off his chest and then allowed it to drop to his side, before turning back to the students. They, too, lowered their hands, but the silence prevailed still, for the ceremony was not yet over.

"Never forget where you have come from. Never forget where you must go." The head of the council said with his solemn voice. "Always seek to improve yourself. Always seek to better the world." He stated. "Never forget that which must not be forgotten. Always seek that which must be sought. That is your duty, as the ones chosen to walk these halls. No matter your beliefs, always remember your duty." He looked at the students, his gaze making it seem that he was staring at every single one of them in the eyes, but not with severity. Rather, he looked at them with the utmost... serenity, and then spoke once again, for the last time. "I leave you, children, in the care of your guides. There is no one you should trust more." He said. "This concludes the welcoming ceremony. You are all dismissed." He stated at last. And then, he stepped down from the podium, and headed towards the door he had come from at the beginning of the ceremony, his inexorable step taking him there once again, leading him through the threshold and out of the auditorium.

The perfect order and absolute silence prevailed for some moments after the headmaster had stepped out of the auditorium. And then, all of it promptly broke down. Excited chatter and sighs of relief suddenly began filling the air as recruits filled with emotion began discussing how they felt when the sword crowned them and proud aspirants relaxed their posture, returning their tools to the pedestals and talking to the new students that had been placed under their care. Many felt quite exalted about what had just happened, not only the recruits, but the aspirants as well.

"Well, that's that." Aressa said, casually tossing the seal and the sword back into their respective pedestals, which retracted into the ground bearing their contents, most likely to be stored away until they were to be used by the eldest among the blood robes the next year. There was something, though. Her voice seemed much less stern, more relaxed, her words flowing with more freedom. She turned back to the recruits, resting her left hand on her hip, and instead of the solemn, impassible expression that had been on her face during the ceremony, she now wore a slight smile. "One day you'll all hold these ceremonial blades as well. I won't be here by then, but I'll look forward to it all the same." She said to the recruits. Her smile then faded, replaced by curiosity as she looked in Eamonn's direction. "Ah. MacÌomhair, you looked sick back there. Are you quite alright?" She inquired.

Arcander, meanwhile, had relaxed as well, going as far as to lean against the pedestal that bore the robes, almost falling as a result when it too began retracting into the ground. Chuckling to himself, he left his position at the back of the group and advanced towards the students, shoving one of his hands into one of the pockets of his uniform, fishing for something inside. "Congratulations to you all for being here. You'll have to work hard if you want to take the old man up on his dare. But then, if you weren't capable of that, you wouldn't be here, now would you?" He said to the students, his characteristic smile on his face once again. His voice had lost its martial edge by now, becoming friendly once again. Finally retrieving something from his pocket, he lightly tossed it at Mehran. "Shirazi, catch." He warned. The object in question was a seal, much like the one used in the ceremony, with a symbol that could be imprinted on the uniform if the seal was pressed against it. However, this was different, bearing not the Phantom Blade sigil over a silver gauntlet, but rather, the symbol of a sun with sixteen rays, the emblem of the Order of Xorshid. "They sent me this for you. It's yours if you want it." He said, and then pointed to his own uniform, where the green flame over a crescent moon stood opposite to the symbol of the Silver Hand.

After that, he carried on, speaking to the other students. "Now, listen. Technically, the ceremony's over, and you're all free to decide to head to your dorms and relax for a bit. We would be compelled to take you there in that case." He explained. "However, if you all want to do something interesting, there's always the Silver Games. If you choose to participate, you'll each get to participate in a duel with another first year recruit. You might end up against one another, or against a stranger, though there have suspiciously been many more cases of the former as of late." He continued with his explanation. "Anyway, after that, you will all participate together against another group of recruits, under the care of another pair of guides. Well, those of you who choose to participate, anyway." He concluded.

"Is any of you interested, then?" Aressa asked the recruits, gauging their reactions to the offer to participate in the games.
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Wolfenium
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Posts: 10593
Founded: Jan 17, 2010
Father Knows Best State

Postby Wolfenium » Sun Dec 21, 2014 10:55 pm

Heaving a sigh as he heard the applause thunder around him, Mehran was glad the ceremony was over. It had been shorter and more concise than he expected, which was always good. But trying to resist the urge to plug his ears when the other students were reciting their creed proved a bit taxing for him. He always had his father's rebellions streak.

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Well, that's that." Aressa said, casually tossing the seal and the sword back into their respective pedestals, which retracted into the ground bearing their contents, most likely to be stored away until they were to be used by the eldest among the blood robes the next year. There was something, though. Her voice seemed much less stern, more relaxed, her words flowing with more freedom. She turned back to the recruits, resting her left hand on her hip, and instead of the solemn, impassible expression that had been on her face during the ceremony, she now wore a slight smile. "One day you'll all hold these ceremonial blades as well. I won't be here by then, but I'll look forward to it all the same." She said to the recruits. Her smile then faded, replaced by curiosity as she looked in Eamonn's direction. "Ah. MacÌomhair, you looked sick back there. Are you quite alright?" She inquired.


Hobbling out, Eamonn gave the aspirant a great long stare when she asked of his condition. The bands in his eyes made his skin exceptionally pale, though that was not the only cause for his rather sour appearance. As his thoughts swam through his head, he grunted on instinct a flat 'no', a word heavy on self-depreciation and grimness. Turning back to his front, he began walking to the back of the crowd like a wandering spirit again, as if trying to avoid any more queries.

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:Arcander, meanwhile, had relaxed as well, going as far as to lean against the pedestal that bore the robes, almost falling as a result when it too began retracting into the ground. Chuckling to himself, he left his position at the back of the group and advanced towards the students, shoving one of his hands into one of the pockets of his uniform, fishing for something inside. "Congratulations to you all for being here. You'll have to work hard if you want to take the old man up on his dare. But then, if you weren't capable of that, you wouldn't be here, now would you?" He said to the students, his characteristic smile on his face once again. His voice had lost its martial edge by now, becoming friendly once again. Finally retrieving something from his pocket, he lightly tossed it at Mehran. "Shirazi, catch." He warned. The object in question was a seal, much like the one used in the ceremony, with a symbol that could be imprinted on the uniform if the seal was pressed against it. However, this was different, bearing not the Phantom Blade sigil over a silver gauntlet, but rather, the symbol of a sun with sixteen rays, the emblem of the Order of Xorshid. "They sent me this for you. It's yours if you want it." He said, and then pointed to his own uniform, where the green flame over a crescent moon stood opposite to the symbol of the Silver Hand.


Hearing the call, Mehran reacted instinctively as he raised his hand to catch the seal. Raising his shades to check, a sense of glowing appreciation began to lit up in his eye. Raising the sigil in full view, he thanked in a bellicose tone, "I appreciate it, Senior Brightshield!"

For some reason, seeing the sigil energized him somewhat, bearing the symbol of his treasured order for all to see. If there was anything that lightened his mood, it was being a Xorshid guardian. He fed on the pride of being the part of the foremost academic order in the known universe, and in kind built on it by dedicating himself to his job. For a moment, all that brooding over being in the center of Aradain fanatics was put in the back of his mind. He felt he was damned if he let his own personal reservations get in his way of the Xorshid creed 'to seek knowledge'.

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:After that, he carried on, speaking to the other students. "Now, listen. Technically, the ceremony's over, and you're all free to decide to head to your dorms and relax for a bit. We would be compelled to take you there in that case." He explained. "However, if you all want to do something interesting, there's always the Silver Games. If you choose to participate, you'll each get to participate in a duel with another first year recruit. You might end up against one another, or against a stranger, though there have suspiciously been many more cases of the former as of late." He continued with his explanation. "Anyway, after that, you will all participate together against another group of recruits, under the care of another pair of guides. Well, those of you who choose to participate, anyway." He concluded.

"Is any of you interested, then?" Aressa asked the recruits, gauging their reactions to the offer to participate in the games.


"Oh," mused the lad, pulling down his shades as he dropped his arm. The lenses flashing, his heart burned with anticipation as he clutched his fist in front of him in a dramatic pose. At the mention of 'duel', he began acting like a totally different person entirely. Amplifying his voice, he cried out in an operatic show, "a battle, is it!? Interesting. In that case, let me be the first to volunteer! Let me test the steel of any who seeks to face me-"

"-rejected."

"Do not obstruct me, Niloofar," the young man rambled on, uttering a name on instinct when he heard the rejection, "my heart screams for battle! I... 'Niloofar'?"

In an instant, all the tension and adrenaline building on his head seemed to melt away at the realization. Turning back, he quickly recognized the face of the girl standing outside the rim of the group. Dressed in the same uniform as the rest with black twintails and brown eyes, the young girl stood cross-armed, tapping her foot in disapproval. Apprehension quickly seized his nerves as he tried to force his shock down his throat. Marching briskly to face the girl, he leered close to her face in a threatening shadow as he growled beyond the earshot of the party, "what the hell are you doing here? The committee didn't send you."

Undaunted, the girl answered the fettered duelist, "Mother sent me here. She's in the committee too, you know. She wanted me to check on you in case your autism acts up-"

"I don't have autism-" hissed the agitated lad through his teeth.

"Maybe if you stop hyping up like a clown, I'd believe otherwise," the girl jabbed back in a cynical voice, "last thing she needs is for you to get hurt."

"In any case, since when did you arrive," grumbled Mehran, "I didn't see you in the chariot."

"It was a last minute call," went the raven-haired girl, "I had to get on another one. Though you should have noticed me on the podium by now, unless those shades actually make you blind indoors," she concluded, stepping aside while the lad absorbed the news.

Facing the aspirants, the girl raised a set of papers in front of them. Handing the documents, she introduced in a straight tone, "Niloofar Shirazi, Order of Xorshid guardian. Pardon me for the delays, but I was told by the admin to give this to you when I reach here. I specially applied for a transfer under your guidance. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

It was a traumatic set back for the hotblooded young man. He appeared dead set on his mission here, and he felt that he was free to pursue his thrill for battle. Having his own sister appear to embarrass him was quite a stinging blow to his pride. It was not as if he was a child anymore, no matter how the headmaster here put it earlier. But part of him felt something else about Niloofar. For all her faults and snarkness, she was family to him. He felt an odd sense of relief being around someone he could recognize, a bit like the two Ayendor sisters he had spoken to. In any case, it was not like he had any choice but to stick with her.

"Bloody hell," he conceded in resignation, lifting his shade as he heaved a long sigh. He was going to regret this, but it was one he was content to live with as a brother.
Last edited by Wolfenium on Mon Dec 22, 2014 12:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Estva
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Founded: Nov 26, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Estva » Mon Dec 22, 2014 12:36 am

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:The moments passed, and the golden-robed students continued performing the initiation ceremony upon the recruits, placing upon them the silvery robes that identified them and displayed their rank within the school. These aspirants who were at the moment proclaiming these new recruits as students had, too, been crowned as such before in a similar ceremony days prior, as had the newest among the blood-robes. All of them had followed the traditions of the Silver Hand Academy, the way the recruits were doing now. One by one, they were crowned as members of the Silver Hand by the ceremonial metal blades held by the steady hands of the golden-robed aspirants, seniors of the recruits before them by eight years exactly, in regards to their time at the Academy. All of them, too, had been in the position of the ones now before them, standing in line until their turn came, advancing to the aspirant at the front and being proclaimed as a student by the seal and the blade and the robe. All of them had felt themselves become part of something greater, all of them had felt that warmth in their hearts as they were accepted by those who had come before them. And now, they transmitted that feeling to the ones who stood in front of them, the ones who had come after them, for now it was them who wore the golden robes, and it was them who held the seal, and the blade, and the robe.

"I proclaim thee a recruit." Aressa said in a firm tone, her voice calm and her hand steady as her blade descended upon the last student's shoulder, crowning them, too, as a member of the Silver Hand Academy, before allowing them to return to their place among their fellow recruits, all of them now officially part of the school, all of them now officially crowned students of the prestigious institution. Blades and seals were placed back upon their pedestals, though the silvery robes remained upon the shoulders of the students for them to bear, the symbol representing the Silver Hand Academy proudly stamped upon their backs. And as everything returned to its rightful place in the auditorium, the sounds slowly died down once again until only the agitated breathing of some of the more excited students broke the silence that permeated the chamber.

It was then that, once again, the man with the nigh-argent gaze spoke.

"I welcome you, once again, to the Silver Hand Academy. Here, you will learn to fight, and you will learn to bleed. You will learn to struggle. Not all of you will be in these halls in ten years. Not all of you will be in these halls in eight, or in four. Only those among you who truly wish to be here will truly reap the benefits of your stay. Only those of you who truly dedicate yourselves to the Academy may take away knowledge from its halls." Augustus spoke, his powerful voice once again reverberating through the whole hall, sinking into the minds of every student within reach. He made a small pause, allowing the echoes to fade, before continuing with a simple, brief sentence. "I dare you, children, to stay." He said sternly. After that, however, he turned his back on the students, facing the symbol at the far back of the room.

"We will now recite the Phantom Oath. Those among you who hail from distant lands, I ask you only for your respect and silence. Those of you who have come from the lands of Sylvalladine, repeat after me." He stated. Then, he raised his left arm, placing his hand upon the center of his chest, his forearm drawing a straight line parallel to the ground between his hand and his elbow. And as soon as his hand had settled, every student clad in gold and every student clad in red did exactly the same, raising their left hands and placing their hands on their chests, their posture perfectly straight and perfectly still. The silence had become something powerful and solemn, and now not even faint breathing could be heard over the sublime quiet atmosphere.

And then the Oath broke the silence and the man clad in robes of the void led the way with his voice, a symphony soon following.

"I, the wishful warrior,
Promise to become the shield of my people,
To bring lasting peace to our lands,
And protect them with my life;
Promise to become the sword of my people,
To bring swift defeat to our enemies,
And banish them with my might;
Promise to become the spirit of my people,
To bring hope to their hearts,
And inspire them with my light.
By the honor and blood of those who walked before us,
And the hearts and hopes of those who are yet to come,
I, the wishful warrior, promise to serve the Phantom Blade."

Koren did not technically hail from the Sylvalladine lands, in the sense that it was not enforced state religion, but such faith was fairly common among some of the communities. He felt that abstaining from the oath, without hailing from so clearly a distant land like the Xorshid, would prove to be arrogant and stand offish. So, with the other students, he repeated the path without putting any meaning into it. Of course, he found nothing objectionable about it save the last line which he repeated without really saying the words. In the mass chorus of voices, his abstention of the last line was not noticed, and to all others he simply appeared as another faithful, or at least dutiful, student hailing from the lands wishing to serve the Phantom Blade.

The speaker continued the ceremony, saying things he expected to hear and that most academies tell their students.

Then, he said something that really struck a chord in Koren.
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Never forget where you have come from."

This line meant more to Koren then it probably did for most people in the room. He remembered, certainly, and he would never forget where he hailed from. Yet, he couldn't decide if the remark was offensive, or simply earnest, as what followed was a simple order t better yourself, no matter your stature. He eventually concluded that the speaker meant nothing offensive, and most likely knew that there were students from less well-to-do backgrounds. Perhaps he even was talking directly to students like Koren, challenging them to stay in the academy and prove those who had been given their futures how one could make a future instead?
Zarkenis Ultima wrote:After that, he carried on, speaking to the other students. "Now, listen. Technically, the ceremony's over, and you're all free to decide to head to your dorms and relax for a bit. We would be compelled to take you there in that case." He explained. "However, if you all want to do something interesting, there's always the Silver Games. If you choose to participate, you'll each get to participate in a duel with another first year recruit. You might end up against one another, or against a stranger, though there have suspiciously been many more cases of the former as of late." He continued with his explanation. "Anyway, after that, you will all participate together against another group of recruits, under the care of another pair of guides. Well, those of you who choose to participate, anyway." He concluded.

"Is any of you interested, then?" Aressa asked the recruits, gauging their reactions to the offer to participate in the games.


The proposition given intrigued Koren. Fighting with other students in such "Silver Games" would not only be fun, but if he were to be paired against a student focused on martial abilities, it could easily become a useful learning experience.

His thinking was cut off by Mehran's exclamation, and then shameful rejection by what appeared to be his sister. What was going on?

As the conversation continued, Mehran was painfully shut down, so much even Koren cringed at the remarks made by his sister.

Even only those two would be paired in a fight, that would truly be interesting.
he thought.

Shutting his mind up, he stepped forward to announce his desire to enter the Silver Games.

"Yes, I would like to participate. It should prove to be an....interesting experience."
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The Unites State-Of-Minds
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Ex-Nation

Postby The Unites State-Of-Minds » Mon Dec 22, 2014 3:27 am

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:-Snip-


The arrival of the last missing student belonging to their group was not marked by a terribly long wait, and almost immediately after was followed by their departure for the auditorium. The path they took seemed to display the wealth of the academy, particularly the translucent halls, although even they would pale in comparison to the auditorium. Despite the lack of decoration, aside from the symbol of the academy, the great room of white indicated in every sense the power and affluence of the academy.

He found himself feeling curious of the white material the room was crafted of. At first glance it appeared almost as though it had been hewn from a single, absurdly large, chunk of white granite; however, closer inspection brought such an appraisal into doubt despite providing no alternative hypothesis as to its origin. Regardless of his interest in taking a closer and more in depth inspection, Arogisl remained mindful of the fact they had yet to arrive at their location, and in maintaining his pace with the others was unable to devote much attention to his curiosities. In following Brightshield they weaved in and out of the crowds populating the auditorium, seemingly aimless in direction. Yet this senseless movement eventually found the intended destination, as they eventually followed Brightshield to a slight clearing in the crowds where he introduced the group to a woman as their fellow charges, presumably another aspirant they were assigned to. This one seemed closer to what Arogisl had expected, more authoritative in nature and presumably less tolerant. Brightshield gave the name of her person in calling her, Aressa, a nice name by all accounts; to which she in turn gave her full name of Aressa Alistar to her newly acquired flock of fledgling students. The name surprised him, as it was among the more famous of their civilization, which gave him enough reason to swallow his tongue in regards to inquiring as to the primary material the room had been crafted from.

Following her curt introduction, she voiced an allowance for inquiry while they awaited the ceremony to begin, an opportunity taken by two students before time ran out. Neither inquiry bestowed any confidence within him, as both seemed merely to instill a sense of irritation within their female aspirant, the latter question more tired exasperation then irritation whereas the former had been met with some derision. The responses by the aspirant seemed not to inspire confidence in the queriers and seemed instead to anger one. Arogisl was somewhat impressed that the one who had been derided for his question had held his tongue, as he seemed the prideful sort from the question itself and his general demeanor.

It was at this point that his thoughts were disrupted by the sharp call to attention, to which Brightshield responded by shifting everyone about into formation. Following the immediate gaze of the two aspirants, Arogisl noticed that a door had opened at the front of the auditorium, from which emerged an elderly man clad in a brilliant robe of black and silver. His advanced age was obvious, yet in spite of this he exuded a strong sense of poise and discipline cloaked within a general feeling of strength. The chatter which had kept the auditorium filled with an indiscernible buzz of voices ceased to be at the appearance of the wizened figure. It seemed clear that the one who commanded such respect was obviously of a significant position within the academy, and if the texts were to be believed then this was Augustus Alistar, head of the Academy Council. Reaching the podium at the center of the great room and with all attention focused upon him, he delivered a short speech extending welcome towards the new students before issuing permission for the aspirants to proceed with the formalities. At this point the formation in which they had been arranged took meaning as the order in which they were to move forward and be take part in the ceremonial inauguration to the academy.

When his turn came, Arogisl stepped forward and was stamped with the academy symbol upon his chest; which then was followed with the more ceremonious endowment of recruit robes. Yet, unlike the robe of grey which fell from his shoulders and faded into nothingness, his anxious thoughts remained about him. He stared forward with a blank gaze, not really taking in what was before him, trying instead to retain a general awareness of the general direction of the ceremony itself. Although, somewhere in the back of his mind he pondered over the exact relation between the two Alistair's before him. Once all recruits had experienced the endowment of their robes, there was another speech, somewhat longer then the first, which then was followed with the declamation of the Phantom Oath. He found it particularly thoughtful that before reciting it they made clear that those who were not of the best upbringing were not expected to know the words by heart. Although he had read of and studied the wording of the oath, the fact that he was not of the Sylvalladine lands left him somewhat unsure as to his exact course of action for a moment. Copying the salute of the speaker, he stood at attention for the duration of the oath, only relaxing once not only the speaker but the aspirants around him had relaxed as well.

And just as quickly as it had commenced, the ceremony had concluded. There was but a short speech to close the event before the speakers left just as they came, leaving the auditorium as silent as before. Almost immediately, the quiet that had gripped the auditorium broke down and returned to the indiscernible buzz of voices layered atop one another, making it once again nigh impossible to make clear what one said as close as a few meters away. The aspirants too, had greatly relaxed following the ceremony. Brightshield had returned to his less then stern disposition, and even Alistar seemed to have adopted a more casual stance. After tossing something to one of the other students, Brightshield addressed the group, informing them that they were now free to retreat to their dormitories and relax or, if they so wished it, take part in what sounded to be an introductory competition for new students. At the mention of a chance to test his own against another Arogisl stepped forward. He has spent more then enough time passively watching and now was the finally the time to take some action and enjoy himself.

"I must admit, it certainly sounds as though it could make for an interesting exchange. I would like to take part."

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Zarkenis Ultima
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Founded: Feb 22, 2011
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Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Mon Dec 22, 2014 4:56 pm

Aressa looked back at Eamonn upon noticing him reply to her question with a long stare. She heard him grunt out 'no' with a sour mood and saw him begin heading to the back of the group. Frowning slightly, she called out to him. "Eamonn, come back here." She ordered, though without much force behind the command, not believing that shouting at him was going to accomplish much at the moment. "If you are not feeling fine, then you need to tell us so that we can see what is wrong with you. The last thing we need is for one of you to get sick before classes even start." She said calmly, but firmly. "If there is something wrong, you can tell us. We aren't your guides for nothing, you know." She told him, expecting him to understand the situation, before moving on to something else, noticing that a girl had arrived and was handing her a set of documents for her to review, explaining that she'd transfered to their group. Raising her eyebrows ever so slightly, Aressa reviewed the documents, flipping through them rather quickly. Everything seemed to be in order, so the red-haired aspirant nodded and passed the stack of papers to Arcander before addressing the girl.

"Very well then. Everything seems to be in order. Welcome to the group, Niloofar Shirazi. I presume you already know our names if you transferred specifically to be with us, so I will spare you the introductions." She said with courtesy. "Your brother there has a seal with the symbol of the Order of Xorshid, if you would like to bear it in your uniform during your stay with us, like Brightshield with his flame." She added afterwards, pointing at the symbol of the green flame over the crescent moon that was present on Arcander's chest, opposite to the Silver Hand.

Arcander, meanwhile, had been quietly snickering at the show put on by Mehran and his sister Niloofar. His ears weren't as acute as to catch the more sensitive bits and pieces of what was being discussed, of course, but regardless of that, he was very amused to hear the comparatively smaller girl qualify the older one with words such as 'autism', 'clown' and 'blind'. He attempted to suppress his snickering upon noticing that Mehran had turned back to the group, only partially succeeding, and decided to focus on other things. The girl seemed to have asked for transferring, for some reason, most likely to keep tabs on her 'autist' brother, the senior thought as he chuckled once again. Looking over the papers Aressa handed him, he, too, saw nothing wrong with them, and so, he placed them in one of his pockets for the time being, before addressing the students once again.

"Alright then, that would be the elder Shirazi, Arn and Ignobilis participating." He stated. "Who else would like to participate in the Silver Games? You're welcome if you want to, Niloofar. Same to you, Eamonn, unless you're feeling too sick to fight." He said to the students under his care.
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The Starlight
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Posts: 10422
Founded: Jan 11, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Starlight » Mon Dec 22, 2014 5:17 pm

Ellyn had said the Phantom Oath proudly, her voice never quavering or decreasing in volume. She could scarcely believe that this had all happened. She was getting too many ideas for paintings to take, and yet now she had another one, of the sea of students, pledging, saying the Phantom Oath. She glanced at him, Aris, finely and beautifully glad in the garb of the Order. The clothes seemed to fit him perfectly, and he seemed like he should have been wearing them all himself. After the Phantom Oath, she rejoined the group and observed the events quietly, musing, studying, glancing at each of her fellow students, and of course, at him. Aris. As Arcander spoke again, she tuned in, her eyes brightening as he heard duels. It brought her back to her memories of the few tournaments she had participated in back home, before she came here. She stepped forward slightly and said, "I would like to participate in the Silver Games. Sounds like a good opportunity to me." She dearly hoped that Aris too would join in, it would be fun to see his abilities and to see him in action, perhaps even against herself.
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