Children Of Infinity (IC)

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Note: Please do not post here unless you have been accepted in the Out Of Character Thread.

---

Children Of Infinity
Millenary Shadows

The Universe, vast and magnificent, full of darkness and full of light, stretched out before the eyes of the ones who looked out at it through the transluminic metal panels that acted as windows for the people within the chariot, a bullet-shaped red, silver, black and gold vehicle with the symbol of the Order of the Phantom Blade visible on the top half, right in the middle. Said vehicle was dragged along through the black void by a smaller, similarly colored spacecraft with a form like that of a pyramidal star, an energy chain coming out of each of the star's five points and connecting it to the bullet, the 'wagon' as it was called by the people, where the passengers of a chariot sat during the journey while the small but powerful star drive bound to the wagon did all the job of getting the passengers to their destinations in a safe manner, for its functions were not limited to providing horsepower for the chariot, it was also a shield generator, tasked with destroying or otherwise deflecting anything that posed a threat to the safety of the passengers.

Of course, the passengers of this chariot could not actually see any of this take place, as they were comfortably seated inside the vessel, waiting to arrive to the last stop of their journey. Students, they were, students headed towards a place far from home: the Silver Hand Academy, named so in honor of Lady Sylvalladine, whose hands clad in silver armor wielded holy spells and mighty swords alike and forged the Order which now sent the most promising of their youth to that academy, built in that place where the skies were made of molten rubies, the Red Citadel of Arcadia. They were sent there to become champions, to become heroes, but for now, they sat within the chariot, led on through the stars and on towards their destiny.

The inside of the chariot where the recruits sat was nothing too extraordinary, truth be told. A white cylindrical chamber with two parallel lines of gray metallic seats laid out, a black cushion on each seat for the comfort of the recruits. Above, the symbol of the Order of the Phantom Blade was again to be found, and once more in a door to the side of the vehicle, which remained closed for the time being. Aside from that, the room in which the students sat and waited was austerely decorated, pieces of Phantom Blade heraldry visible here and there and not much else. On the walls that were not composed of transluminic metal sheets, meters could be seen displaying the temperature, oxygen levels and hull integrity, if only for the peace of mind of the passengers, and similarly, dials were available, one for changing the temperature and another for changing the volume of a small audio device with a built-in station changer that was currently broadcasting a report about increasingly frequent skirmishes between the Order and a group of dragon-worshipping heathens on the other side of the quadrant. The temperature dial was set at the very middle in order to provide a tolerable environment for everyone, while the volume dial was set relatively low so that it could be heard or ignored, depending on the wishes of the passengers. Both, of course, could be overridden by the pilot or lock down automatically if abused somehow, but so far none of that had been necessary.

Conversely to the interior of the chariot, the view outside was far more outstanding. Out there, in the black sea, a hundred stars and a thousand planets were visible, if one paid attention. The chariot had just passed the Medusa Constellation, but the image of the majestic Gryphon had appeared on the horizon in its stead. Down below, a great distance away but still very much dominating everything with its light, the sun of Arcadia, the mighty star Antagon could be seen, great eruptions and sunspots galore visible on its burning surface. Once upon a time, the White Demon had threatened to destroy all of this and more with his army of foul dragons, but thanks to the valiant efforts of the heroes of the Orders of the Known Universe, and the Red Knight's slaying of the King of All Dragons, that threat was no more. A thousand years had passed, and it seemed that the Order of the Phantom Blade and its affiliated territories had recovered much of the splendor they had lost as a result of the Chalice War. There was proof of this for the disbelieving, of course, for there, no longer very far from the recruits' vessel, one could clearly see the crimson skies of the Red Citadel, Cathedral Arcadia, standing proudly amidst the void and housing thousands of aspiring warriors within itself.

A brief monotonous sound quietly echoed through the chamber all of the sudden, shattering the silence only to be followed by a calm female voice. "This is your charioteer speaking. We will arrive at Cathedral Arcadia soon." The voice said before fading, leaving the recruits alone with each other once more.

[Wolfenium]

Human knowledge had always brought forth the best and worst of humanity itself. The highest achievements made by the Redemit and our ancestors, had always been shadowed by our worst excesses of human conflict, greed and destruction. It was a heavy heart that as I renounced our ties... my ties... with the world beyond. But some things are too dangerous to be left in lesser hands. What happened with the Lost Chalice was neither inevitable nor an accident. I will not have Ay be made another example of that.

-Headmistress Aylin Sadik of the Ay, Year 13 since the Chalice War

Those were the words of last known headmistress of Ay, Aylin Sadik, a thousand years since the destruction wrought by the dragons in the Chalice War. As Ay's famed 'Ejderha Avcısı' (Turkish: Dragon Hunter) and one of the few who followed the Red Knight in his quest for the Lost Chalice, her election as the head of humanity's most foremost, perhaps only scholarly order, was all but guaranteed. Given her ties with the scholarly and militant factions that had since split Ay, her presence was to be a unifying force for an order fragmented by internal conflict and paranoia of the outside world. However, her experience with Lord Pandracon, Aurex of the Phantom Blade, and his refusal to hand over the Chalice to Ay, dictated her actions later, cutting the dervish off from the rest of humanity in their new stronghold of Kemik-kum (Turkish: Bone Sand). Since, the event, known only as the Eclipse, resulted in the single greatest loss of human knowledge to the wider world since the loss of Gaea itself. Today, Ay was but a legend, its own existence in question and its survival even more in doubt.

But not all had been forgotten, as new orders sprang to take Ay's place as the centre of human knowledge. One, in direct opposition to the symbol of the Order of the 'Moon', was the Order of the 'Sun', the Xoršids. Founded by an exiled scholar from Ay, the Order of Xoršid had filled the void left behind by Ay's isolation, even its old cathedral of Inci, known now as Mervârid by translation. From its House of Wisdom, Ay's former Grand Library, the Xoršids hoped to recover, rebuild and ultimately expand on humanity's lost knowledge. All that required the help and cooperation of other orders in collating their archives for recording, and not all were cooperative. Nonetheless, the Xoršids struggled on, as the scholars of old always had. It had been a difficult period, but generations since the Eclipse, the light of wisdom, while dimmer than the days of Ay, was once again illuminating the universe.

Seated around the corner of the cabin, one particular Xoršid appeared more enthralled with a rather archaic-looking screen pad, his ears plugged with headphones that would have been more at home in a museum than in actual use. A pair of shades over his eyes and his hair combed back messily, it seemed a bit obvious that the shades were not for shielding his eyes from any sunlight coming from the windows. The screen pad itself projected no holograms, instead showing images on a flat screen. It was rudimentary, even laughable by today's standards. But it was also practical in keeping prying eyes away, as anyone who tried would be easily noticeable from an awkwardly turned head. The video in question was but one of the many holorecords smuggled from Ay by the first Headmaster of Xoršid, Ahmed. It was one Xoršid scholars like Mehran had grown up learning; the reasons behind the Eclipse which had befallen humanity.

"Many scholars still debate the legitimacy of Headmistress Sadik's account of the Chalice War," the voice of his old lecturer blared in his headphones, "some questioned her own objectivity to the incident, citing her long-standing ire for the Order of Kerberos for the Hazine Massacre, as well as her sympathies for the radical Ayça faction. Others felt that her anger for the actions of Aurex Pandracon and its results was justified enough to warrant such a scathing description of events. In truth, history is but a long collection of accounts written in the perspectives of its witnesses, and interpreted and reinterpreted by contemporaries of later times. Until the day when we obtain more accounts of the Red Knight's quest, we may never have a more conclusive picture of the Chalice War. One thing is for certain, the aftermath brought about a complete loss of trust between Ay and the other orders. What secrets they have accumulated for human existence was now lost to the universe again, perhaps... for time immemorial."

"'Time immemorial'," went Mehran in a low grunt, "there's no such thing. Only a matter of time."

For a scholar, Mehran made for a rather poor one. Lacking much interest in the dreary studies of human sciences, his academic grades were markedly mediocre, a disqualification from further studies in the House of Wisdom. However, his skill with the dual swords more than made up for it, putting him squarely in the path of a guardian in training. It was what he always intended to be, that since he was unable to pursue the quest for knowledge, he would do his utmost to protect those who did. But shoving him on a course for Arcadia was not his idea of a dream career. There was much he did not like about the Red Cathedral and their hosts. Facing the root of the Eclipse was one of them.

A brief monotonous sound quietly echoed through the chamber all of the sudden, shattering the silence only to be followed by a calm female voice. "This is your charioteer speaking. We will arrive at Cathedral Arcadia soon." The voice said before fading, leaving the recruits alone with each other once more.

Unplugging one of his headphones, Mehran made a scant note of the announcement before returning to his taped lectures. To him, the vast emptiness of space and its gleaming stars and bodies were just images in the black sky, hardly an amusing sight. He much preferred the thrill of thought in the annals of history, among the only academic subjects he fared well in and loved. His only hope that his stay in the Silver Hand is short. He was not sure how much more he could take the awkwardness of being in a foreign world of an order his peers had derided so much.

[The Unites State-Of-Minds]

The view of the outside realm consumed Arogisl's attention. He found himself lost in the sea of lights that permeated the curtain of space, in awe of the immense volume of celestial bodies which were themselves but a drop within a sea larger then imagining. Constellations he once viewed from his home were but shapeless dots of light, their relevance found only if viewed upon while situated in a particular area of the galaxy. In their place were shapes new to him, histories yet untouched by his consciousness, painting the skies with a thousand tales of those who tread before.

If not for the drifting of his mind within the glowing sea surrounding their encapsulating chariot, he would have been wrecked with apprehension. Weeks of near panic at the task ahead had been the focus of his mind until the view of stars took hold of his consciousness. The calm the sight of galaxy instilled within him was such that he took no notice of the disembodied voice alerting them of their impending arrival, and it was only with the gradual fade of the stars to be replaced by skies of red that his awareness would touch upon their growing proximity to the Cathedral. The shift in focus came with a rekindling of the anxiety suppressed by his slowly fading view of the stars above. He found himself wishing that he had kept one of his books on his person for the final stretch of the trip. Oh well, too late for excuses to turn back now. Not that he could make such a choice anyway; He could never bring such shame to those who lifted him here. And within that simple resolution, he found his unease abated ever so slightly. The faintest of smiles crossed his face; If nothing else, he could expect to enjoy his time once things were settled.

[Charmera]

Human knowledge had always brought forth the best and worst of humanity itself. The highest achievements made by the Redemit and our ancestors, had always been shadowed by our worst excesses of human conflict, greed and destruction. It was a heavy heart that as I renounced our ties... my ties... with the world beyond. But some things are too dangerous to be left in lesser hands. What happened with the Lost Chalice was neither inevitable nor an accident. I will not have Ay be made another example of that.

-Headmistress Aylin Sadik of the Ay, Year 13 since the Chalice War

Those were the words of last known headmistress of Ay, Aylin Sadik, a thousand years since the destruction wrought by the dragons in the Chalice War. As Ay's famed 'Ejderha Avcısı' (Turkish: Dragon Hunter) and one of the few who followed the Red Knight in his quest for the Lost Chalice, her election as the head of humanity's most foremost, perhaps only scholarly order, was all but guaranteed. Given her ties with the scholarly and militant factions that had since split Ay, her presence was to be a unifying force for an order fragmented by internal conflict and paranoia of the outside world. However, her experience with Lord Pandracon, Aurex of the Phantom Blade, and his refusal to hand over the Chalice to Ay, dictated her actions later, cutting the dervish off from the rest of humanity in their new stronghold of Kemik-kum (Turkish: Bone Sand). Since, the event, known only as the Eclipse, resulted in the single greatest loss of human knowledge to the wider world since the loss of Gaea itself. Today, Ay was but a legend, its own existence in question and its survival even more in doubt.

But not all had been forgotten, as new orders sprang to take Ay's place as the centre of human knowledge. One, in direct opposition to the symbol of the Order of the 'Moon', was the Order of the 'Sun', the Xoršids. Founded by an exiled scholar from Ay, the Order of Xoršid had filled the void left behind by Ay's isolation, even its old cathedral of Inci, known now as Mervârid by translation. From its House of Wisdom, Ay's former Grand Library, the Xoršids hoped to recover, rebuild and ultimately expand on humanity's lost knowledge. All that required the help and cooperation of other orders in collating their archives for recording, and not all were cooperative. Nonetheless, the Xoršids struggled on, as the scholars of old always had. It had been a difficult period, but generations since the Eclipse, the light of wisdom, while dimmer than the days of Ay, was once again illuminating the universe.

Seated around the corner of the cabin, one particular Xoršid appeared more enthralled with a rather archaic-looking screen pad, his ears plugged with headphones that would have been more at home in a museum than in actual use. A pair of shades over his eyes and his hair combed back messily, it seemed a bit obvious that the shades were not for shielding his eyes from any sunlight coming from the windows. The screen pad itself projected no holograms, instead showing images on a flat screen. It was rudimentary, even laughable by today's standards. But it was also practical in keeping prying eyes away, as anyone who tried would be easily noticeable from an awkwardly turned head. The video in question was but one of the many holorecords smuggled from Ay by the first Headmaster of Xoršid, Ahmed. It was one Xoršid scholars like Mehran had grown up learning; the reasons behind the Eclipse which had befallen humanity.

"Many scholars still debate the legitimacy of Headmistress Sadik's account of the Chalice War," the voice of his old lecturer blared in his headphones, "some questioned her own objectivity to the incident, citing her long-standing ire for the Order of Kerberos for the Hazine Massacre, as well as her sympathies for the radical Ayça faction. Others felt that her anger for the actions of Aurex Pandracon and its results was justified enough to warrant such a scathing description of events. In truth, history is but a long collection of accounts written in the perspectives of its witnesses, and interpreted and reinterpreted by contemporaries of later times. Until the day when we obtain more accounts of the Red Knight's quest, we may never have a more conclusive picture of the Chalice War. One thing is for certain, the aftermath brought about a complete loss of trust between Ay and the other orders. What secrets they have accumulated for human existence was now lost to the universe again, perhaps... for time immemorial."

"'Time immemorial'," went Mehran in a low grunt, "there's no such thing. Only a matter of time."

For a scholar, Mehran made for a rather poor one. Lacking much interest in the dreary studies of human sciences, his academic grades were markedly mediocre, a disqualification from further studies in the House of Wisdom. However, his skill with the dual swords more than made up for it, putting him squarely in the path of a guardian in training. It was what he always intended to be, that since he was unable to pursue the quest for knowledge, he would do his utmost to protect those who did. But shoving him on a course for Arcadia was not his idea of a dream career. There was much he did not like about the Red Cathedral and their hosts. Facing the root of the Eclipse was one of them.

A brief monotonous sound quietly echoed through the chamber all of the sudden, shattering the silence only to be followed by a calm female voice. "This is your charioteer speaking. We will arrive at Cathedral Arcadia soon." The voice said before fading, leaving the recruits alone with each other once more.

Unplugging one of his headphones, Mehran made a scant note of the announcement before returning to his taped lectures. To him, the vast emptiness of space and its gleaming stars and bodies were just images in the black sky, hardly an amusing sight. He much preferred the thrill of thought in the annals of history, among the only academic subjects he fared well in and loved. His only hope that his stay in the Silver Hand is short. He was not sure how much more he could take the awkwardness of being in a foreign world of an order his peers had derided so much.

"Finally." Vynaria muttered, not exactly comfortable on the chariot, after all she was used to more regal transportation. Plus the journey had not been exactly exciting, watching constellations and stars out the window had ceased to be appealing and she had not had anyone to talk to. Jynna was being unusually quiet even thought she was sat next to Vyna, still towering above the white haired heiress despite sitting down. In fact Jynna seemed to be avoiding Vyna's gaze and looking away from her older sibling. Vyna knew why she was too. Someone had hired an assassin to kill her, and that someone could be any one of the Ayendor siblings, including Vyna. Though she had tried to convince her sister that she was not indeed after the fortune, her sister still seemed ill at ease.

This inheritance is threatening to tear us apart... Vyna thought. Why would Alris or Jon do something like this? I thought we trusted one another...

Vyna pushed such thoughts from her mind for now, supposing she should give Jynna some room to think. She turned to the person on the other side of her. He seemed to be listening to something, whether it was music or some other audio she couldn't say, neither did she care. She was bored, and wanted someone to talk to, arrogantly assuming that whomever this was might appreciate some conversation. Besides, he seemed mysterious, and Vyna was eager to unravel some of that mystery.

"Hello there." She started, talking to Mehran. A friendly smile on her face. "Sorry to bother you, but I was just curious, what are you listening to?"

[Wolfenium]

Those were the words of last known headmistress of Ay, Aylin Sadik, a thousand years since the destruction wrought by the dragons in the Chalice War. As Ay's famed 'Ejderha Avcısı' (Turkish: Dragon Hunter) and one of the few who followed the Red Knight in his quest for the Lost Chalice, her election as the head of humanity's most foremost, perhaps only scholarly order, was all but guaranteed. Given her ties with the scholarly and militant factions that had since split Ay, her presence was to be a unifying force for an order fragmented by internal conflict and paranoia of the outside world. However, her experience with Lord Pandracon, Aurex of the Phantom Blade, and his refusal to hand over the Chalice to Ay, dictated her actions later, cutting the dervish off from the rest of humanity in their new stronghold of Kemik-kum (Turkish: Bone Sand). Since, the event, known only as the Eclipse, resulted in the single greatest loss of human knowledge to the wider world since the loss of Gaea itself. Today, Ay was but a legend, its own existence in question and its survival even more in doubt.

But not all had been forgotten, as new orders sprang to take Ay's place as the centre of human knowledge. One, in direct opposition to the symbol of the Order of the 'Moon', was the Order of the 'Sun', the Xoršids. Founded by an exiled scholar from Ay, the Order of Xoršid had filled the void left behind by Ay's isolation, even its old cathedral of Inci, known now as Mervârid by translation. From its House of Wisdom, Ay's former Grand Library, the Xoršids hoped to recover, rebuild and ultimately expand on humanity's lost knowledge. All that required the help and cooperation of other orders in collating their archives for recording, and not all were cooperative. Nonetheless, the Xoršids struggled on, as the scholars of old always had. It had been a difficult period, but generations since the Eclipse, the light of wisdom, while dimmer than the days of Ay, was once again illuminating the universe.

Seated around the corner of the cabin, one particular Xoršid appeared more enthralled with a rather archaic-looking screen pad, his ears plugged with headphones that would have been more at home in a museum than in actual use. A pair of shades over his eyes and his hair combed back messily, it seemed a bit obvious that the shades were not for shielding his eyes from any sunlight coming from the windows. The screen pad itself projected no holograms, instead showing images on a flat screen. It was rudimentary, even laughable by today's standards. But it was also practical in keeping prying eyes away, as anyone who tried would be easily noticeable from an awkwardly turned head. The video in question was but one of the many holorecords smuggled from Ay by the first Headmaster of Xoršid, Ahmed. It was one Xoršid scholars like Mehran had grown up learning; the reasons behind the Eclipse which had befallen humanity.

"Many scholars still debate the legitimacy of Headmistress Sadik's account of the Chalice War," the voice of his old lecturer blared in his headphones, "some questioned her own objectivity to the incident, citing her long-standing ire for the Order of Kerberos for the Hazine Massacre, as well as her sympathies for the radical Ayça faction. Others felt that her anger for the actions of Aurex Pandracon and its results was justified enough to warrant such a scathing description of events. In truth, history is but a long collection of accounts written in the perspectives of its witnesses, and interpreted and reinterpreted by contemporaries of later times. Until the day when we obtain more accounts of the Red Knight's quest, we may never have a more conclusive picture of the Chalice War. One thing is for certain, the aftermath brought about a complete loss of trust between Ay and the other orders. What secrets they have accumulated for human existence was now lost to the universe again, perhaps... for time immemorial."

"'Time immemorial'," went Mehran in a low grunt, "there's no such thing. Only a matter of time."

For a scholar, Mehran made for a rather poor one. Lacking much interest in the dreary studies of human sciences, his academic grades were markedly mediocre, a disqualification from further studies in the House of Wisdom. However, his skill with the dual swords more than made up for it, putting him squarely in the path of a guardian in training. It was what he always intended to be, that since he was unable to pursue the quest for knowledge, he would do his utmost to protect those who did. But shoving him on a course for Arcadia was not his idea of a dream career. There was much he did not like about the Red Cathedral and their hosts. Facing the root of the Eclipse was one of them.



Unplugging one of his headphones, Mehran made a scant note of the announcement before returning to his taped lectures. To him, the vast emptiness of space and its gleaming stars and bodies were just images in the black sky, hardly an amusing sight. He much preferred the thrill of thought in the annals of history, among the only academic subjects he fared well in and loved. His only hope that his stay in the Silver Hand is short. He was not sure how much more he could take the awkwardness of being in a foreign world of an order his peers had derided so much.

"Finally." Vynaria muttered, not exactly comfortable on the chariot, after all she was used to more regal transportation. Plus the journey had not been exactly exciting, watching constellations and stars out the window had ceased to be appealing and she had not had anyone to talk to. Jynna was being unusually quiet even thought she was sat next to Vyna, still towering above the white haired heiress despite sitting down. In fact Jynna seemed to be avoiding Vyna's gaze and looking away from her older sibling. Vyna knew why she was too. Someone had hired an assassin to kill her, and that someone could be any one of the Ayendor siblings, including Vyna. Though she had tried to convince her sister that she was not indeed after the fortune, her sister still seemed ill at ease.

This inheritance is threatening to tear us apart... Vyna thought. Why would Alris or Jon do something like this? I thought we trusted one another...

Vyna pushed such thoughts from her mind for now, supposing she should give Jynna some room to think. She turned to the person on the other side of her. He seemed to be listening to something, whether it was music or some other audio she couldn't say, neither did she care. She was bored, and wanted someone to talk to, arrogantly assuming that whomever this was might appreciate some conversation. Besides, he seemed mysterious, and Vyna was eager to unravel some of that mystery.

"Hello there." She started, talking to Mehran. A friendly smile on her face. "Sorry to bother you, but I was just curious, what are you listening to?"

A quick shift of his eyes up beyond his darkened shades, Mehran took a moment to unplug his headphones. Taking off his shades as a courtesy, he was not expecting any company. To be fair, he preferred not to talk, but he would not want to come across as rude to a lady.

"Not much," he answered politely, bowing his head, "just a history lecture recording I took from my old school. I doubt most would want to bore themselves with one. It's not an easy subject to find appreciation in."

"Mehran Shirazi, Shield Bearer of the Order of Xorshid, though it's just a title for cadets branching into the guards department," he introduced himself, "and you are, Miss?"

[Charmera]

"Finally." Vynaria muttered, not exactly comfortable on the chariot, after all she was used to more regal transportation. Plus the journey had not been exactly exciting, watching constellations and stars out the window had ceased to be appealing and she had not had anyone to talk to. Jynna was being unusually quiet even thought she was sat next to Vyna, still towering above the white haired heiress despite sitting down. In fact Jynna seemed to be avoiding Vyna's gaze and looking away from her older sibling. Vyna knew why she was too. Someone had hired an assassin to kill her, and that someone could be any one of the Ayendor siblings, including Vyna. Though she had tried to convince her sister that she was not indeed after the fortune, her sister still seemed ill at ease.

This inheritance is threatening to tear us apart... Vyna thought. Why would Alris or Jon do something like this? I thought we trusted one another...

Vyna pushed such thoughts from her mind for now, supposing she should give Jynna some room to think. She turned to the person on the other side of her. He seemed to be listening to something, whether it was music or some other audio she couldn't say, neither did she care. She was bored, and wanted someone to talk to, arrogantly assuming that whomever this was might appreciate some conversation. Besides, he seemed mysterious, and Vyna was eager to unravel some of that mystery.

"Hello there." She started, talking to Mehran. A friendly smile on her face. "Sorry to bother you, but I was just curious, what are you listening to?"

A quick shift of his eyes up beyond his darkened shades, Mehran took a moment to unplug his headphones. Taking off his shades as a courtesy, he was not expecting any company. To be fair, he preferred not to talk, but he would not want to come across as rude to a lady.

"Not much," he answered politely, bowing his head, "just a history lecture recording I took from my old school. I doubt most would want to bore themselves with one. It's not an easy subject to find appreciation in."

"Mehran Shirazi, Shield Bearer of the Order of Xorshid, though it's just a title for cadets branching into the guards department," he introduced himself, "and you are, Miss?"

"Vynaria Ayendor." Vyna replied, still smiling. "And next to me is my sister, Jynna Ayendor." She put some unconscious emphasis on the last name, her pride in her family showing through. She leaned a little more towards him, intrigued by this stranger.

Jynna heard her name and turned around a little to face Mehran, she smiled with not mere friendliness, but genuine warmth to the stranger, very characteristic of her. She gave a curt nod, "Pleased to meet you." She said simply.

Vyna was glad her sister was being a little more talkative now. Melancholy did not suit Jynna. "Xoshid... Interesting... I've never had the... pleasure to meet anyone from your order." She commented, noting the information she knew about them, and the prejudice they held against the Phantom Blade. But Vyna was determined to be amicable. "So what brings you to Cathedral Arcadia exactly?"

[Wolfenium]

A quick shift of his eyes up beyond his darkened shades, Mehran took a moment to unplug his headphones. Taking off his shades as a courtesy, he was not expecting any company. To be fair, he preferred not to talk, but he would not want to come across as rude to a lady.

"Not much," he answered politely, bowing his head, "just a history lecture recording I took from my old school. I doubt most would want to bore themselves with one. It's not an easy subject to find appreciation in."

"Mehran Shirazi, Shield Bearer of the Order of Xorshid, though it's just a title for cadets branching into the guards department," he introduced himself, "and you are, Miss?"

"Vynaria Ayendor." Vyna replied, still smiling. "And next to me is my sister, Jynna Ayendor." She put some unconscious emphasis on the last name, her pride in her family showing through. She leaned a little more towards him, intrigued by this stranger.

Jynna heard her name and turned around a little to face Mehran, she smiled with not mere friendliness, but genuine warmth to the stranger, very characteristic of her. She gave a curt nod, "Pleased to meet you." She said simply.

Vyna was glad her sister was being a little more talkative now. Melancholy did not suit Jynna. "Xoshid... Interesting... I've never had the... pleasure to meet anyone from your order." She commented, noting the information she knew about them, and the prejudice they held against the Phantom Blade. But Vyna was determined to be amicable. "So what brings you to Cathedral Arcadia exactly?"

Watching her glowing face inching near him, Mehran's throat nearly seized. He tried not to show it, but he felt ill at ease at the girl invading his personal space, especially since she was a girl. Bowing his head in answer, he replied, "likewise. Our order rarely ventured outside Mervarid in groups larger than a handful, if at all. As for my presence here, it's nothing more than my sole duty to obtain and store knowledge from all corners of the universe. The Phantom Blade is of no exception to that, I assure you, though my lecturer did advise me to... socialize more..."

Shifting his gaze away a bit, he did not quite like that thought. It was not his character to engage in small talk. However, ettiquete dictated that he try. He was never one to upset a girl deliberately, even Phantom Blade knights.

"You two are related, if I'm not wrong," he remarked, "sisters, by any chance?"

[Charmera]

"Vynaria Ayendor." Vyna replied, still smiling. "And next to me is my sister, Jynna Ayendor." She put some unconscious emphasis on the last name, her pride in her family showing through. She leaned a little more towards him, intrigued by this stranger.

Jynna heard her name and turned around a little to face Mehran, she smiled with not mere friendliness, but genuine warmth to the stranger, very characteristic of her. She gave a curt nod, "Pleased to meet you." She said simply.

Vyna was glad her sister was being a little more talkative now. Melancholy did not suit Jynna. "Xoshid... Interesting... I've never had the... pleasure to meet anyone from your order." She commented, noting the information she knew about them, and the prejudice they held against the Phantom Blade. But Vyna was determined to be amicable. "So what brings you to Cathedral Arcadia exactly?"

Watching her glowing face inching near him, Mehran's throat nearly seized. He tried not to show it, but he felt ill at ease at the girl invading his personal space, especially since she was a girl. Bowing his head in answer, he replied, "likewise. Our order rarely ventured outside Mervarid in groups larger than a handful, if at all. As for my presence here, it's nothing more than my sole duty to obtain and store knowledge from all corners of the universe. The Phantom Blade is of no exception to that, I assure you, though my lecturer did advise me to... socialize more..."

Shifting his gaze away a bit, he did not quite like that thought. It was not his character to engage in small talk. However, ettiquete dictated that he try. He was never one to upset a girl deliberately, even Phantom Blade knights.

"You two are related, if I'm not wrong," he remarked, "sisters, by any chance?"

"Indeed. As I said, she's my younger sister" Vyna said, sensing she was invading his personal space she backed off a inch or two. The only boys she had regular contact with were related to her by blood, so she was used to a slightly less distant personal space. Part of her was sizing him up somewhat, mostly out of habit. As a talented duelist, she tended to do so from time to time. "I'm the eldest and Jyn here was the second child, (though she looks like the eldest...) then our two brothers, Alris and Jonran."

Jynna rolled her eyes as she claimed the title of eldest. It was especially obnoxious now they were older. Jynna then raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any siblings?" asked the taller sister, curious.

"If you don't mind us asking that is." Vyna hastily added in the interests of not upsetting Mehran.

[Wolfenium]

Watching her glowing face inching near him, Mehran's throat nearly seized. He tried not to show it, but he felt ill at ease at the girl invading his personal space, especially since she was a girl. Bowing his head in answer, he replied, "likewise. Our order rarely ventured outside Mervarid in groups larger than a handful, if at all. As for my presence here, it's nothing more than my sole duty to obtain and store knowledge from all corners of the universe. The Phantom Blade is of no exception to that, I assure you, though my lecturer did advise me to... socialize more..."

Shifting his gaze away a bit, he did not quite like that thought. It was not his character to engage in small talk. However, ettiquete dictated that he try. He was never one to upset a girl deliberately, even Phantom Blade knights.

"You two are related, if I'm not wrong," he remarked, "sisters, by any chance?"

"Indeed. As I said, she's my younger sister" Vyna said, sensing she was invading his personal space she backed off a inch or two. The only boys she had regular contact with were related to her by blood, so she was used to a slightly less distant personal space. Part of her was sizing him up somewhat, mostly out of habit. As a talented duelist, she tended to do so from time to time. "I'm the eldest and Jyn here was the second child, (though she looks like the eldest...) then our two brothers, Alris and Jonran."

Jynna rolled her eyes as she claimed the title of eldest. It was especially obnoxious now they were older. Jynna then raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any siblings?" asked the taller sister, curious.

"If you don't mind us asking that is." Vyna hastily added in the interests of not upsetting Mehran.

Making a small smile, the young man was unsure at how to answer. It did sound rather personal, but Vyna already told her about her family. It was only fair that he do too. Combing back a fringe of hair, he said, "I have siblings. Almost too many to count. My parents love children. Wherever they go, orphans would follow them back to the House of Wisdom. Me? I'm but their eldest brother, and the only actual child born of them. I suppose I owe it to my adopted siblings for making my life a messy hell. Well... a fun one regardless."

[Charmera]

"Indeed. As I said, she's my younger sister" Vyna said, sensing she was invading his personal space she backed off a inch or two. The only boys she had regular contact with were related to her by blood, so she was used to a slightly less distant personal space. Part of her was sizing him up somewhat, mostly out of habit. As a talented duelist, she tended to do so from time to time. "I'm the eldest and Jyn here was the second child, (though she looks like the eldest...) then our two brothers, Alris and Jonran."

Jynna rolled her eyes as she claimed the title of eldest. It was especially obnoxious now they were older. Jynna then raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any siblings?" asked the taller sister, curious.

"If you don't mind us asking that is." Vyna hastily added in the interests of not upsetting Mehran.

Making a small smile, the young man was unsure at how to answer. It did sound rather personal, but Vyna already told her about her family. It was only fair that he do too. Combing back a fringe of hair, he said, "I have siblings. Almost too many to count. My parents love children. Wherever they go, orphans would follow them back to the House of Wisdom. Me? I'm but their eldest brother, and the only actual child born of them. I suppose I owe it to my adopted siblings for making my life a messy hell. Well... a fun one regardless."

"That's sort of how our childhood was too." Vyna related, whistfully thinking back to the days when everything was less complicated, Jynna seemed to be having the same nostalgic trip, until her eyes met Vyna's and Vyna's met hers, and the taller girl looked away awkwardly, a combination of guilt and nervousness in her as she did so. She pretended to be looking out at the stars, though she was really trying to avoid Vyna's eyes.

Vyna sighed slightly, biting her lip, before turning back to Mehran with a slightly forced smile. "Though it wasn't exactly hell. We were... quite well off." She stated simply. Bragging slightly and subtly about her upbringing was something Vyna liked to indulge in, but she couldn't afford it now really. Not with the possibility of the same thing that happened to Jyn happening to her. She reluctantly changed the subject. "I'm guessing you're as excited as I am about this whole thing are you? Going to Cathedral Arcadia and training there... I mean you're Order isn't exactly a fan of the Phantom Blade."

[Wolfenium]

"That's sort of how our childhood was too." Vyna related, whistfully thinking back to the days when everything was less complicated, Jynna seemed to be having the same nostalgic trip, until her eyes met Vyna's and Vyna's met hers, and the taller girl looked away awkwardly, a combination of guilt and nervousness in her as she did so. She pretended to be looking out at the stars, though she was really trying to avoid Vyna's eyes.

Peering at the duo exchanging their glares, the Xorshid could tell there was something wrong between their family. Jynna's apprehension showed that pretty clearly, though the reason was not clear. For a moment, Mehrad's curiosity nagged him to ask, if only to see if he could offer any advice. However, having only spoken to them for the first time, he felt that it was not wise to probe.

Vyna sighed slightly, biting her lip, before turning back to Mehran with a slightly forced smile. "Though it wasn't exactly hell. We were... quite well off." She stated simply. Bragging slightly and subtly about her upbringing was something Vyna liked to indulge in, but she couldn't afford it now really. Not with the possibility of the same thing that happened to Jyn happening to her. She reluctantly changed the subject. "I'm guessing you're as excited as I am about this whole thing are you? Going to Cathedral Arcadia and training there... I mean you're Order isn't exactly a fan of the Phantom Blade."

However, as Vyna changed topics, Mehran could not help but pause with a sulk. He was clearly unhappy with his posting. It was something he himself had difficulty hiding. Taking a deep breath, he thought hard on making a suitable reply. Finally, he answered, "I will admit, I do not enjoy this assignment very much. I mean no offence to your order, but we are still haunted by the Eclipse that followed the Chalice War. To us, the day Ay, the last lingering light of human wisdom, chose to shroud that light from humanity is a greater tragedy than the mountain of corpses that littered the blackness of space in the wake of the dragons. You might think I'm insane to belittle the cost; I must clarify that I do not. But so much had been lost in the Eclipse that human civilization had once again been set back to its darkest age, when the first cathedrals of its existence ceased to be. What happened with the Chalice could have been avoided had Ay been given the right to safeguard it. They have experience in discerning what knowledge is ultimately dangerous and what is not. Not even Ay's schism was enough to justify risking what happened in the Chalice War."

Pausing again, he added, "do forgive me if I came across as condescending. I just felt what happened the past millenia could have been avoided. This isn't the first time humanity had experienced such crises before. It's just... frustrating to see us make the same mistakes as our predecessors.

[Sil Arion]

A brief monotonous sound quietly echoed through the chamber all of the sudden, shattering the silence only to be followed by a calm female voice. "This is your charioteer speaking. We will arrive at Cathedral Arcadia soon." The voice said before fading, leaving the recruits alone with each other once more.

Aristos opened his eyes. Hm. So soon? Gazing out at the sea of shining stars, he felt... out of place, among such strange stars he had never seen before. But still such beautiful stars, like home. To lose such track of time, he must have been more tired than normal, to be so deep in reverie. He laughed under his breath. Headmistress Ion would surely scold him if she heard of his lapse in focus! And only the most vocal for him. To everyone's constant amusement. Did he already miss her? All his family left behind?

A faint smile. It was time again to make new family then. A new home. Not the first time though, no?

He glanced around. Many of his peers appeared to be resting or relaxing, reclining in their seats or reading, listening to music or watching a video on their personal devices. He smiled as he saw a cute girl snuggle into her pillow. He couldn't forget that while each and every one of them was chosen personally to be recruited, they were all still children. And everyone had their stories. Would he meet anyone like him here? He closed his eyes, a hope stirring at that thought, but he looked up as the sound of voices reached him. Three, a boy and two girls across from him. Sisters? Most certainly, if their appearance was anything to go by.

Ah. So they were. He listened in, feigning sleep just a little longer as he let the conversation wash over them. It always warmed him to hear others voices, sharing their stories and learning about one another! To let other know you cared as you listened and spoke in turn. Hm. He didn't want to wake everyone else, but perhaps he should join them? At least introduce himself, and let the conversation flow from there. Hestia had time and again told him he was good with people, and he dearly wanted to connect, especially after -

Ayendor? The way the girl, Vynaria, stressed that name was subtle, but spoke of more than a little pride. He may not have been watching them with open eyes, but she was surely smiling. An aristocrat, by that unconscious cue. She was... different though, from aristocrats he had known on Akaea. Amicable, and genuine warmth in her voice. But her sister, Jynna, positively beamed. Sunshine. She was like warm light after a cold, wet day of clouds.

Hellen... There was a resemblance, but only a seeming, thankfully. It had not been long since -

A Xorshid Shield-Bearer? He was a bit unfamiliar with the history of different orders due to his rather unfortunate lack of education til recently, but by the boy's speech, they didn't seem to view the Phantom Blade in... the best light. He smiled faintly, tempting as it was to open his eyes and watch. Not yet. Mehran was clearly uncomfortable being here, as he listened. Wearing your heart on one's sleeve though was no bad thing; a sense of honesty radiated from him, even if he was not yet wanting to be here. But polite, and still willing to be kind. He would grow to be good man then. A True Knight. And he had many adopted siblings?

The mood seemed to sour as he listened to Mehran. He hadn't heard of the Eclipse, or the Ay, and knew little of the Chalice War. But he knew very well how to brighten people's lives and warm their hearts and mediate conflicts. So he bent down and reached beneath his seat and pulled out a case of dark wood, engraved with curling vines and flowers and leaves, with a tree centered on the cover, all in bronze. He opened the brass latches and pulled out what lay inside. A surprise parting gift from Headmistress Ion that was now perhaps his most treasured possession, even beyond Solaris and Stella.

Echo. His cithara. He sat still, eyes closed as he warmed the strings with a few soft melodies and tuned to cooler air of the chariot, humming to himself the notes. And then he struck his fingers to the strings and sung:

This is our Road!
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.

It was warm, happy melody, the music of the words filled with hope. An old favorite, and the first full song old Gaea had taught so many years ago in the orphanage that was his first home, where he first too found the wondrous love of a family. His family. His feelings flowed through his fingers and into his voice as he began the second verse:

Our Road we travel on!
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.

It was a old ballad, bright and beautiful in its praise and allegory of a knight's path, the road one must take. And the road Gaea told him of taken to faraway Arcadia, founded centuries ago by the descendants of the Red Knight in his honor, and in pride of Lady Syvalladine, most valiant and greatest of heroines, and brave Kaios, her lover and knight, and the Phantom Blade. Praise, and a prayer the Redemit still say before bed.

Sing now, ye kin of Crimson Citadel!
For the King of Dragons is ended forever,
and the Dark Time is thrown down.

Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Phantom Blade!
For your watch hath not been in vain,
and the Black Gate is broken,
and your Knight hath passed through,
and he is victorious.

Sing and be glad, all ye children of the Stars!
For your Knight shall come again,
and he shall dwell among you
all the days of your life.
And the World that was withered shall be renewed,
and he shall plant it in the high places,
and the Realm shall be blessed.

He flew on, his fingers flowing like water over the strings as he raised his voice, filled with inspiration as he sung the final verse.

Sing all ye people! Arcadia! Arcadia, between the Mountains and the Sea!
West Winds blew there; the light upon the Silver Hand
fell like bright rain in gardens of the Knights of old.
O proud walls! White towers! O wingéd mount and swords so bold!
O Arcadia, Arcadia! Shall Men behold the Silver Hand,
And West Winds blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?

Ever the performer, he raised his bowed head as he finished with a graceful flourish of his fingers, and raised his gaze, soft but warm and hopeful, looking to the three across from him. He could hear the murmurs of others in the surrounding seats, the weight of eyes on him, but he wanted to know. The question posed in that final verse: did they too believe?

[The Starlight]

Ellyn, snuggling in her pillow, awoke from her slumber, awakened as the announcement came on. Looking out the window, she nearly gasped out the marvelous of that beautiful but terrifying, bright but so dark universe. The stars glimmered like silver gems, and she looked into the vastness of space, ever marveling and wondering at its beauty and power. She could stare into the deepness of the Universe, as if it was a never ending well. She could not miss a chance like this.
Getting out her drawing notebook she began, or at least tried to. But how could she, the vastness of what she was seeing was beyond her. But nevertheless, she sent pencil to paper and began, drawing in light strokes of her own perspective looking out at the view. Next were the orbs of the vast planets, Ellyn using thicker but still light strokes to display them. Then, there were the stars, oh the stars. Their beauty surpassed anything she had ever seen, and she did her utmost best to pour her passion, her wonderment and skill into the drawing. Her strokes and scratches became faster as her inspiration grew and she no longer looked at the beauty, having an perfect image in her head, which she applied down to the paper. Her eyes closed, all seeming silent to her ears, as her hands moved instinctively, automatically. She couldn't explain it, but she just knew how she wanted the drawing, and that she did, her strokes and brushes of the pencil across the paper. The puzzle began to fit itself together, especially as she took out her colors, and started to color in what she had drawn. And then, the spell was broken, by a soft voice.

But a whole new spell began, and after a moment's pause, continued, her strokes of the colors going in rhythm with the music. With a flourish, she completed it, and just a second later, the song died down. Looking at the drawing, she believed it was one of her best yet, the splash of colors and yet, the evident darkness of the scene upon the paper which lay before here was still present, and provided a fitting contrast. But her most valued and beloved of her own works, was the painting of Lady Sylvalladine. The lady stood upon a rock, surveying the sunset. Her face was radiant and her sword long and sharp, as the other delicate hand, displayed various runes of magic. The silvery armor laid upon the heroine strong, powerful and beautiful, but as if it was the light of a feather. Looking up from the painting and closing her drawing book quickly, she located the beautiful voice, sniffing away a tear. Then, she stood silent, raising a palm to her eyes and touching the tear. It had been a long time when she, Ellyn Tarembor had cried from sheer joy, and delight. She settled for a few soft claps, before speaking her first words upon the chariot, though soft they were. "You have a voice gifted by Aradain. I have never heard the ballad sung so well in my few years. I am Ellyn Tarembor, pleased to meet you." said Ellyn in introduction.

[Charmera]

"That's sort of how our childhood was too." Vyna related, whistfully thinking back to the days when everything was less complicated, Jynna seemed to be having the same nostalgic trip, until her eyes met Vyna's and Vyna's met hers, and the taller girl looked away awkwardly, a combination of guilt and nervousness in her as she did so. She pretended to be looking out at the stars, though she was really trying to avoid Vyna's eyes.

Peering at the duo exchanging their glares, the Xorshid could tell there was something wrong between their family. Jynna's apprehension showed that pretty clearly, though the reason was not clear. For a moment, Mehrad's curiosity nagged him to ask, if only to see if he could offer any advice. However, having only spoken to them for the first time, he felt that it was not wise to probe.

Vyna sighed slightly, biting her lip, before turning back to Mehran with a slightly forced smile. "Though it wasn't exactly hell. We were... quite well off." She stated simply. Bragging slightly and subtly about her upbringing was something Vyna liked to indulge in, but she couldn't afford it now really. Not with the possibility of the same thing that happened to Jyn happening to her. She reluctantly changed the subject. "I'm guessing you're as excited as I am about this whole thing are you? Going to Cathedral Arcadia and training there... I mean you're Order isn't exactly a fan of the Phantom Blade."

However, as Vyna changed topics, Mehran could not help but pause with a sulk. He was clearly unhappy with his posting. It was something he himself had difficulty hiding. Taking a deep breath, he thought hard on making a suitable reply. Finally, he answered, "I will admit, I do not enjoy this assignment very much. I mean no offence to your order, but we are still haunted by the Eclipse that followed the Chalice War. To us, the day Ay, the last lingering light of human wisdom, chose to shroud that light from humanity is a greater tragedy than the mountain of corpses that littered the blackness of space in the wake of the dragons. You might think I'm insane to belittle the cost; I must clarify that I do not. But so much had been lost in the Eclipse that human civilization had once again been set back to its darkest age, when the first cathedrals of its existence ceased to be. What happened with the Chalice could have been avoided had Ay been given the right to safeguard it. They have experience in discerning what knowledge is ultimately dangerous and what is not. Not even Ay's schism was enough to justify risking what happened in the Chalice War."

Pausing again, he added, "do forgive me if I came across as condescending. I just felt what happened the past millenia could have been avoided. This isn't the first time humanity had experienced such crises before. It's just... frustrating to see us make the same mistakes as our predecessors.

"Interesting..." Vyna said then paused, a little unsure of how to proceed. She appreciated that Mehran was entitled to his own opinion, but it was mildly callous to say that the loss of knowledge is more of a tragedy than the horrific loss of life during the war. She also found holding a grudge and prejudice for something that happened so many years ago was pointless. However she didn't really know much about the war to argue her point, though Vyna was arrogant enough to try.

She was about to pursue her point when she heard the singing, shaking her thoughts. She looked over to the Aristos, surprised. He was good, and Vyna was somewhat impressed, though she honestly preferred symphonies and orchestras to the single man with a cithara, considering them to be higher art. However she did enjoy the song somewhat.

"That was... really nice." Jynna said to the man, a little moved by the music, though not quite the type to cry. She noted someone else was also interested "Where did you learn to play like that?"

After the singing, her mind got back to talking, turning back to Mehran, but deciding the change the subject. She reminded herself she wanted to avoid an argument. "I suppose we all have our... views." She muttered, then addressed Mehran directly, "You must have considerable martial skill if you're being sent with us to the SIlver Hand. I'm curious.... What kind of skills do you possess exactly?"

[Lavan Tiri]

Dum, dadadumdum dum, dada dum dum dum, dadadumdumdum

Many people are annoyed by the sound of drumming fingers. They find it irritating, distracting, and childish. But not Slevaenter Hygbros. No, to Slev, the drumming of fingers upon a hard surface was soothing, and aided in his thinking.

Of course, some might thinking that drumming one's fingers upon the wall of a spaceship isn't the best of ideas, but those people are idiots.

Slev, deep in thought, was yanked out from his own head when the announcement came on. The voice startled the young man, and he jerked up, becoming quite aware of something.

Oh. There are people on this thing.

Might as well attempt to make friends, right?

And so, Slev rose, and strode over to the girl who'd complimented the singer, who was quite good. As he moved, Slev's knees grew weak; he was not a people person around strangers, even less so attractive female strangers.

"That's really good", Slev said quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. Really, no attention would be best, but that was sadly not possible. And now, he realised, he'd gotten himself into a social situation, and couldn't get away.

So might as well go all out, and devil take the hindmost.

Slev turned to the girl he'd for some reason gotten himself next to. He tried to think of something witty and cool to say, but nothing. But his mouth moved and sounds came out anyway.

"Hey………h-he-hell-gottohell-he………I-I-spaceship……………awkward………"

After a minute, Slev became aware of what he was doing, an shut his trap, a horrified look springing onto his face. Only I could ruin my chances with a girl before she knows my name, he thought, and smiled wryly.

The girl was still there, and probably wondering what kind of disease this freak had by now. Or if he was some sort of pity case for the Academy. Whatever. Buck up and do it, no going back now.

Slev took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and spoke again "Hello. That was……… my evil dragon-worshipping twin………… Blev. Not me. I'm Slevaenter, Slev for short. Your name?"

He hoped she believed him. That twin think had taken nearly twenty seconds to come up with.

[Sil Arion]

“You are too kind, my fair lady.” He returned softly, bowing deep, voice warm at the praise and the heartfelt tears she shed. Warming hearts was why he played, after all; for his own and for others even more. And he did so love a phrase of seven words. Drama was his world, after all.

“But my songs are only shadows of the light that is your art you hold in hand.” And such was truth, as he lost track of the everything around him. The drawing, if it could be called something so simple in name alone, was beautiful. Bright. Bold in color and rendition of one of his two favorite characters and persons in all history. Lady Sylvalladine. He smiled faintly.

“Did I not now know your name, I could have thought you Lady Sylvalladine. But that could have led to unfortunate confusion.” There was more than a likeness to her, as he met her gaze. Truly.

And because she was beautiful. Eyes of amber-gold. Warm and sweet as honey, deep as the polished wood of his cithara and dark lashes. Bright and reflecting the light. Set in a fair face, an oval. Like a teardrop, delicate and delightful to behold, strong; her skin so pale and pure. Her hair a sheaf of sunshine and starlight, soft as silk and long, laying free as the wind. Her smile stopped his heart, so easy and honest. Her lips were red. Not the garish painted red so many women believed made them desirable. Lips red, morning and night. As if minutes before he saw her, she had been eating sweet berries, or drinking heart’s blood. And the tears down her cheeks gave a dreamlike vision he could not resist. She was beautiful to her bones, he could see, no matter whatever fault or flaw she might have.

We stare at a fire because it flickers, because it glows. The light catches our eyes, but what makes a man lean close to a fire has nothing to with its bright shape. What draws one to a fire is the warmth when one comes near. She was warm. And he was drawn, as like a pencil to a paper. Fingers to string, voice to song, his heart to music.

“Please, call me Aris. And... thank you.” His voice was just a whisper now, his head bowed, gaze down. Starstruck? More than a little, he chastised himself. And unmoving stood there, not quite trusting his own tongue to not say something foolish next. To her. To Ellyn.

He heard another girl’s voice. Jynna’s. Answering, his voice cautious, “I learned from an old wise-woman, Gaea. She was… like a mother to me and the other orphans, and taught me much before – “ His voice caught. He hadn’t meant to say so much. He wanted to connect, to make new family, but. By Aradain. He was in a right sort, wasn’t he? A slight sigh.

“Sorry.” His smile tightened. “I’m not the best when it comes to telling stories.” Well, now that was a blatant lie if he ever heard one. No matter if he was tended to understatement and self-deprecation. Returning to his seat, he picked up a quiet tune, serene and lovely. A song he always returned to in times where his heart and mind were troubled. Perhaps they would understand, even if he couldn’t say it in words. Where he learned, why he loved music as he did.

It was a song of the perfect moment of found peace and joy in life, and mourning the memory of lost loved ones where the word bittersweet isn’t enough to describe that feeling. But a good feeling. A song said to have been written by the Lady herself in the wake of her lover’s death at battle’s end so long ago. The Lay of the Phantom Blade.

His fingers flowed slowly along the strings, and closed his eyes again as he slipped into the music of his heart once more…

[The Starlight]

Turning to the newcomer, she gave him a soft smile. "Pleased to meet you Slev. Are you eager to reach the Academy, I sure am." she said. She understood and sympathized his nervousness, a bit, she herself had been terribly frightened and nervous in her first duel. So many things had been running through her head. But she had gotten over it, and she was sure Slev was too. She for some reason didn't feel a dislike for Slev, she disliked cowards with a passion, but she was sure no coward would've been able to get into the Silver Hand Academy, and he had been courageous enough to come over. Those thoughts passing through her mind quickly, she patted a hand on a seat nearby. "Take a seat, Slev." she said.

Turning back to Aris for the time being she replied, "Nice to meet you, Aris. And you flatter me, I am no Lady Sylvalladine," a blush rose to her cheeks before she stifled it down again. "Though in my youth, and sometimes still in dreams I made myself as the lady. But I thank you, I don't often show my art to others, as you have shared something of yours, I shall share something of mine, that is when you finish the Lay, which I insist you must." said Ellyn. She was amazed with Aris. The music had enchanted her, in the same manner and way that her art did. And he himself, he was unlike anyone she had ever known or seen. She wanted to know more about him, and though he had undertones of pain and sorrow in his speech, in front of all of that, was this beauty and wonder, just like the universe. There was so much to be discovered about it and Aris, and she wanted, nay, needed to know more about these hidden mysteries, and she would, no matter how long it took, she promised to herself.

But she drew herself from her thoughts and laid pencil to a fresh page once again, ready to draw if any flash of inspiration struck her.

[Wolfenium]

-earworm-

As he waited for Vyna to answer, a soft hum of the string began to ring around the cabin. Glancing over at the bard, Mehran did not seem as enthralled by Aris' melodious voice as the others. It was not because the song was bad - even he felt he had a gift in song - but the content only served to grate at his nerves. It appeared as if any mention of glorifying the Phantom Blade was a mention he was eager to refute, though he was consciously trying to repress it out of courtesy. Even he was not that foolish to antagonize his hosts. Instead, he quietly shut his eyes, clapsed his hands as he laid his forehead over and muttered a short incomprehensible prayer under his breath.

"Interesting..." Vyna said then paused, a little unsure of how to proceed. She appreciated that Mehran was entitled to his own opinion, but it was mildly callous to say that the loss of knowledge is more of a tragedy than the horrific loss of life during the war. She also found holding a grudge and prejudice for something that happened so many years ago was pointless. However she didn't really know much about the war to argue her point, though Vyna was arrogant enough to try.

She was about to pursue her point when she heard the singing, shaking her thoughts. She looked over to the Aristos, surprised. He was good, and Vyna was somewhat impressed, though she honestly preferred symphonies and orchestras to the single man with a cithara, considering them to be higher art. However she did enjoy the song somewhat.

"That was... really nice." Jynna said to the man, a little moved by the music, though not quite the type to cry. She noted someone else was also interested "Where did you learn to play like that?"

After the singing, her mind got back to talking, turning back to Mehran, but deciding the change the subject. She reminded herself she wanted to avoid an argument. "I suppose we all have our... views." She muttered, then addressed Mehran directly, "You must have considerable martial skill if you're being sent with us to the SIlver Hand. I'm curious.... What kind of skills do you possess exactly?"

"Pardon me," he apologized to the sisters, ending his brief meditation with a small smile, "I'm not one to appreciate songs of heroism. It puts a shroud on the results of their actions. We're always taught to look into an event in multiple views, not just our own. In any case, I won't bore you with my lecture."

"To be honest," he replied, this time with slightly more enthusiasm, "martial skill is all I ever had in full. I am not cut out for the life of a scholar. I always found the thrill of combat more appealing. I suppose that's why my lecturers sent me here. As for skills," he revealed, holding up a pair of sheathed blades by the scabbard, "I have these. They're not much, just normal energy swords. I always preferred dual wield if I could help it."

[Sil Arion]

“As you wish,” he spoke softly, a faint smile and all twinkling eyes as he looked up one last time. His last sight was of her beautiful, blushing face. A warmth spread in his heart and rooted deep, and his thoughts wandered as he began.

The Lay of the Phantom Blade. It was the song he knew best of all. The one he empathized with most, for all its tale of love and loss and lust for life, family never forgotten no matter the time passed. The one he always played when siblings fell to the Dragonblight. Those slain by criminals and vile beasts that dwelled in the darkness of the lower levels of the world-city Akaea, their home. Music sung for tears shed and shared grief when Hellen and the others –

He paused for a moment, briefly if abrupt. Feeling lost. Had he never healed since then, those years ago? But that was alright. Time would help. A new home and new family too. And he said it again for the hundredth time since that first day at the orphanage. That prayer. To Aradain. For it is well with my soul. And he swept into the melody again as minutes passed by in seconds, verses flying from his lips like the great western winds. Words he knew so well not a thought was needed, and bare minutes stretched into infinity as he wandered the starry sky of his mind’s eye, memories flashing by. And he played, the pace picking up, the melody rising.

She enchanted him, truly, he knew. He was not so stupid to not notice the signs himself. His sisters had spent more than enough time drilling that sense into him. But, still…

It was strange, if welcome. His first time feeling this.

Perhaps… Was this true love? The same spoken of in the very song he right now sang? His smile grew, full and warm. It certainly didn’t happen every day. But, the parallels were startling, if maybe unsurprising somehow. Aradain works in mysterious ways, no? He remembered Headmistress Ion’s sermons, hearing the wondrous spoken word of Aradain, Lord, loving and kind and merciful to all his children – and how he worked in small and subtle ways to bring them together to build his dream, to grow in strength themselves through every struggle for each other, even millennia after he ceased to walk the worlds who followed him. Was this part of Aradain calling to him? To follow in Kaios’ footsteps?

A pleasant peace filled him, like calm, cool waters at dawn, his mind lucid and heart clear. This music to heal his soul, and anyone else willing to listen. It was his gift from Aradain. And he would answer this call, to be the best Ardain wished him to be and share who he was with all his fellow children. It was all he ever wanted, after all. To love and be loved in return. And now, to be hers.

The song nearing end. The high point. A final verse all remembrance of memories and lost loved ones, and celebrating eternal life together. A sound like rushing water and cascading falls, soft, somehow close yet distant as he played through the last and most complex part, all his focus required – the two harmonies played at once on one instrument. His fingers flew faster and faster and his voice rose as he sang that final verse, the joyous rejoining of Kaios and Silvalladine in the land after death, that realm beyond the sea of stars where Aradain ruled on high with all his children, where he would be reunited with all his lost loved ones far in the future.

The great Sundering Sea between them lay
And yet at last they met once more,
Though long ago they did pass away,
Singing sorrowless on that far away shore.

Tears fell down his cheek, little rivulets of pure emotion escaping him. And it was alright.

“For it is well with my soul,” he whispered, again, for that last time. He was at peace once more, and even if his heart was not yet whole, Aradain was offering an opportunity to heal and grow, because he knew now, no matter what the future held for him. He would live for all of them. The children of Aradain, his family; everyone.

And he would live for her. Ellyn.

[The Starlight]

Ellyn quickly averted her face down, towards the paper, as he began. The strings seemed to hum along as Aris plucked them, and it seemed that he bended the very notes to his will. And oh, what a glorious song it twas, and if possible, an even more glorious performance of one of the greatest ballads of all time. Oh, the Lay of the Phantom Blade. Within it dwelt, sorrow and longing, fear and worry, but also love and hope. Aris's voice rang clear, the accompanying instrument seeming so small beneath its artist, who seemed to grow in power and strength he sang. What was Aris doing as a knight or mage? she wondered. She could only imagine if he had become a bard, villages, towns, and cities, all would bow before his magnificently clear voice. With a voice like that, he could call the name of the wind, and it would come willingly. Such a voice! Planets, the oceans, even the Great Sundering Sea, all would bend before such a voice, and not in fear or under coercing, but as a mother soothingly calls her children to her side. She was stricken, blinded by the brilliant light that was his voice. And she knew it, but loved it all the same. Such a voice belonged in Aradain's realm, it was not fitting for mere mortals to hear the magnificence.

But she was glad, that Aris was not a bard, as she herself would've never hurt this. She would have never felt this unsurpassed joy and warmth when looking at Aris. His smile was radiant and brilliant, his fingers strong, growing in strength with each pluck, and his long white locks of silvery hair, he was magnificent, that was the only word she seemed to be able to use. That face held so many secrets, and the eyes, which came near to matching hers in color, were filled with such sorrow and yet radiant, jubilant joy. And so she began to draw as she looked upon Aris as he raised his voice in triumphiant and glorious song, first drawing the Great Sundering Sea and the Parting of Ways. She drew, and her strokes were bold and strong, wavy and brilliant, representing the Sea. But the drawing seemed almost sorrowful, as was the setting, Ellyn drawing the shadows of two peoples reaching out for each other, so near, and yet so far. And then she began to color, taking up blue and silver and green and maroon, blending each color into the Sea in different ways.
As tears fell from Aris' eyes, she resolved to finish the coloring later and began on Aris himself. First she drew a sketch of him upon a rock, looking on with such power and grace, holding a hand forth and calling the name of the wind. But she made sure that the sketch was not detailed enough for Aris to tell that it was him, at least that is what she attempted. She would draw the full picture later, but for now, she simply wanted to pour her tears, and her joy into her art, and that is what he did.

The chariot fell silent once again. She looked up, hating that it was over. Her eyes too glistened with tears, and though she managed to keep them from escaping, she could not speak. For there were no sufficient words to express the dam of emotions she wanted to let loose. She remained wordless for a second more, shoving down the dam once again for now, looking up once more to Aris' tearstricken face. "Beautiful." she simply said, letting that single word convey all of her feelings. In return, as promised, she held out her art book to Aris. "I hope you like it," she said, again finding herself speechless. What had he done to her? Was it magic, or some strange alchemy? Was it trickery, was it all lies. No it was magic, the magic found in his voice, that had enchanted her, and bound her. And she found herself wishing, wanting and hoping, never to be let loose.

[Estva]

Koren woke.

The golden chariot was approaching the planet he had long dreamed of, yet he could not muster any excitement. He had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, easily outpacing all the wannabe knights on his poor home planet. By all rights, he had every reason to feel proud.

Yet he didn't. The vast constellations in front of him did little to impress him, all he saw was another version of reality that could very well be false. The sheer magnitude of the universe, its sheer majesty and power, all appeared before his eyes, yet he knew, the most powerful of mortals have dared tamper with it. He knew not of why these thoughts came to his mind, but Koren knew his interest in the arcane, and its sheer existence, was what drove him.

He had been previously meditating, quietly listening to some of the ambiance of the chariot. The collected backgrounds of his fellow pilgrims, which he did not specifically identify so as to not intrude upon their privacy. The collective feeling was one of anxiety and excitement, and the other students had every right to feel this way.

While most of the students had been asleep, and still were, a few had gotten up and about. Two women, which he could only assume were sisters by their mannerisms and physical look, had engaged in conversation with the scholar. The scholar himself had given a small, but powerful speech on why he was not the biggest fan of those they would b studying under. This blunt honesty would serve him well in some circles, and would no doubt get some appreciation by the guardians, but Koren found no special appreciation for it. Honesty was useful, but, in the end, he could harm you. Surviving in his wretched town had taught Koren many things about Redemit.

Soon after, another student had broken out into song. Several nice melodies repeated after each other, and Koren would be lying if he said he did not find them pleasing. He cared not for the lyrics, it felt like proselytizing and Koren cared not for the wars of old.

Eventually standing from his position, Koren decided it would be best to begin socializing, as ostracizing yourself was never a good thing. Forcefully disciplining his mind, to purge all nervousness and signs of weakness, as well as to make himself appear charming, Koren began approaching one of his fellow students. The two sisters and the scholar seemed very athletic, and one thing that could not be said of Koren was his athlticism.

The other two had been engaged in a subtly flirtatious dialogue, where they had both begun complimenting each others talent. While possibly genuine, Koren found the act to his distaste, as it seemed sycophantic to him. Of course, all these thoughts were hidden beneath his mental wall, and thus were not presented in any way to the others.

Slev, who had made a clumsy pass at Ellyn, had resigned his fate and sat down.

Of the options available to him, Koren decided to approach Ellyn, Aris, and Slev. Bursting his magic to make himself seem as charismatic as possible, he began to speak.

"Greeting, my friends! Aris, you are one of unimaginable skill. On my home planet, the best we could have were small, self-trained bards who could had to scratch together a living. It is nice to finally hear the voice and melody of a man truly dedicated to his craft, and if you are truly attending this Cathedral, I can not wait to hear what symphonies you develop."

As this happened, Koren could feel Aris was a mentally strong man. His mind was clearly powerful indeed, and any attempt to influence it in this context would likely be futile. He had high focus, and was acutely aware of his mental thoughts.

Ellyn, however, was no so much the same. Her mind was less aware, less keen to the presence of others. Koren could do nothing big, but because he desired it, Koren made sure to attack a small, but appreciable sense of irritation towards Aris. Irritation towards his songs and melody, as Koren was interested in seeing they would both react.

[Charmera]

Ellyn quickly averted her face down, towards the paper, as he began. The strings seemed to hum along as Aris plucked them, and it seemed that he bended the very notes to his will. And oh, what a glorious song it twas, and if possible, an even more glorious performance of one of the greatest ballads of all time. Oh, the Lay of the Phantom Blade. Within it dwelt, sorrow and longing, fear and worry, but also love and hope. Aris's voice rang clear, the accompanying instrument seeming so small beneath its artist, who seemed to grow in power and strength he sang. What was Aris doing as a knight or mage? she wondered. She could only imagine if he had become a bard, villages, towns, and cities, all would bow before his magnificently clear voice. With a voice like that, he could call the name of the wind, and it would come willingly. Such a voice! Planets, the oceans, even the Great Sundering Sea, all would bend before such a voice, and not in fear or under coercing, but as a mother soothingly calls her children to her side. She was stricken, blinded by the brilliant light that was his voice. And she knew it, but loved it all the same. Such a voice belonged in Aradain's realm, it was not fitting for mere mortals to hear the magnificence.

But she was glad, that Aris was not a bard, as she herself would've never hurt this. She would have never felt this unsurpassed joy and warmth when looking at Aris. His smile was radiant and brilliant, his fingers strong, growing in strength with each pluck, and his long white locks of silvery hair, he was magnificent, that was the only word she seemed to be able to use. That face held so many secrets, and the eyes, which came near to matching hers in color, were filled with such sorrow and yet radiant, jubilant joy. And so she began to draw as she looked upon Aris as he raised his voice in triumphiant and glorious song, first drawing the Great Sundering Sea and the Parting of Ways. She drew, and her strokes were bold and strong, wavy and brilliant, representing the Sea. But the drawing seemed almost sorrowful, as was the setting, Ellyn drawing the shadows of two peoples reaching out for each other, so near, and yet so far. And then she began to color, taking up blue and silver and green and maroon, blending each color into the Sea in different ways.
As tears fell from Aris' eyes, she resolved to finish the coloring later and began on Aris himself. First she drew a sketch of him upon a rock, looking on with such power and grace, holding a hand forth and calling the name of the wind. But she made sure that the sketch was not detailed enough for Aris to tell that it was him, at least that is what she attempted. She would draw the full picture later, but for now, she simply wanted to pour her tears, and her joy into her art, and that is what he did.

The chariot fell silent once again. She looked up, hating that it was over. Her eyes too glistened with tears, and though she managed to keep them from escaping, she could not speak. For there were no sufficient words to express the dam of emotions she wanted to let loose. She remained wordless for a second more, shoving down the dam once again for now, looking up once more to Aris' tearstricken face. "Beautiful." she simply said, letting that single word convey all of her feelings. In return, as promised, she held out her art book to Aris. "I hope you like it," she said, again finding herself speechless. What had he done to her? Was it magic, or some strange alchemy? Was it trickery, was it all lies. No it was magic, the magic found in his voice, that had enchanted her, and bound her. And she found herself wishing, wanting and hoping, never to be let loose.

Jynna too was speechless, again finding his music tended to carry emotional weight, she was... impressed by his talent. She would have teared up slightly, but she didn't. It wasn't in her nature to cry. It was more about showing weakness than anything else. She was the strong, stable type. But she was none the less moved by his song.

To her shame, she found herself becoming slightly jealous of Ellyn. She was pretty, seemingly radiantly beautiful, while Jynna didn't really consider herself such. After all, Jynna was very tall and rather formidable, her build almost masculine, though there was definite femininity there. Boys tended to be more intimidated by her than attracted to her, while they seemed to be flocking to Ellyn... She caught herself thinking such jealous thoughts, and was immediately slightly disgusted with herself. She hated when she caught herself thinking self pitying thoughts, especially as she was the emotional backbone of the siblings. She shook such thoughts and smiled her warm smile again. She got up and moved towards Aris, her mind completely forgetting about Mehran and Vyna.

-snippity snippity snip-

She however found herself bumping into Koren slightly before she stabalized herself, evidently not noticing his path. "Oh! Sorry!" She replied, recovering her balance before she fell. She looked to the person she had bumped into, her poor awareness meaning she had not noticed him. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" she asked nervously, mentally cursing her clumsiness. She always did things like this, her clumsiness tended to cause her much grief.

-earworm-

As he waited for Vyna to answer, a soft hum of the string began to ring around the cabin. Glancing over at the bard, Mehran did not seem as enthralled by Aris' melodious voice as the others. It was not because the song was bad - even he felt he had a gift in song - but the content only served to grate at his nerves. It appeared as if any mention of glorifying the Phantom Blade was a mention he was eager to refute, though he was consciously trying to repress it out of courtesy. Even he was not that foolish to antagonize his hosts. Instead, he quietly shut his eyes, clapsed his hands as he laid his forehead over and muttered a short incomprehensible prayer under his breath.

"Interesting..." Vyna said then paused, a little unsure of how to proceed. She appreciated that Mehran was entitled to his own opinion, but it was mildly callous to say that the loss of knowledge is more of a tragedy than the horrific loss of life during the war. She also found holding a grudge and prejudice for something that happened so many years ago was pointless. However she didn't really know much about the war to argue her point, though Vyna was arrogant enough to try.

She was about to pursue her point when she heard the singing, shaking her thoughts. She looked over to the Aristos, surprised. He was good, and Vyna was somewhat impressed, though she honestly preferred symphonies and orchestras to the single man with a cithara, considering them to be higher art. However she did enjoy the song somewhat.

"That was... really nice." Jynna said to the man, a little moved by the music, though not quite the type to cry. She noted someone else was also interested "Where did you learn to play like that?"

After the singing, her mind got back to talking, turning back to Mehran, but deciding the change the subject. She reminded herself she wanted to avoid an argument. "I suppose we all have our... views." She muttered, then addressed Mehran directly, "You must have considerable martial skill if you're being sent with us to the SIlver Hand. I'm curious.... What kind of skills do you possess exactly?"

"Pardon me," he apologized to the sisters, ending his brief meditation with a small smile, "I'm not one to appreciate songs of heroism. It puts a shroud on the results of their actions. We're always taught to look into an event in multiple views, not just our own. In any case, I won't bore you with my lecture."

"To be honest," he replied, this time with slightly more enthusiasm, "martial skill is all I ever had in full. I am not cut out for the life of a scholar. I always found the thrill of combat more appealing. I suppose that's why my lecturers sent me here. As for skills," he revealed, holding up a pair of sheathed blades by the scabbard, "I have these. They're not much, just normal energy swords. I always preferred dual wield if I could help it."

Vyna talked over the next song, visably irritated and not wanting to let something else interrupt her. "I'm not exactly a fan of such songs either, I prefer symphonies and orchestras over the lone quaint bard with his little instrument. As romantic as that image is, I find such music lacks... complexity..."

She looked at the blades. "Dual blades... thats an interesting style. Not many people try to master it. I am impressed..." She commented. She patted her own rapier, "I prefer lighter blades myself, allowing me precision, flexibility and speed which longswords don't... As for my sister, she doesn't have so much... finesse, so she prefers axes over blades."

[Wolfenium]

Vyna talked over the next song, visably irritated and not wanting to let something else interrupt her. "I'm not exactly a fan of such songs either, I prefer symphonies and orchestras over the lone quaint bard with his little instrument. As romantic as that image is, I find such music lacks... complexity..."

She looked at the blades. "Dual blades... thats an interesting style. Not many people try to master it. I am impressed..." She commented. She patted her own rapier, "I prefer lighter blades myself, allowing me precision, flexibility and speed which longswords don't... As for my sister, she doesn't have so much... finesse, so she prefers axes over blades."

"I see..." Mehran spoke, lowering his blades as he considered her words, "I suppose I feel the same way, though I don't really have much preference either way. I can lend you a few pieces in my devices if you like. It's not much; they're quite ancient. But a few date back to the times of old Gaea itself. I hope it's up to your taste."

A quick glance at Jynna looking at the crowd forming around the bard, Mehran did not quite agree. Sure, she seemed to have a fairly bulky build, but nothing wrong with crude fitness if it perfected one's strength in combat. Turning back to Vyna with a bow, he answered, "you flatter me, Miss Ayendor. I appreciate it. Of course, I believe everyone has his or her own style of combat. I don't feel there should be an objectively 'correct' style, just one that you have to find which suits you. Just because your sister relies more on brute force doesn't make her a lesser fighter, neither would using a light blade make you beneath anyone. Ultimately, it's how you use the tools at your disposal- oh dear, I'm lecturing again, am I," he blurted, cutting himself short woth a chuckle before he starts rambling again.

[Charmera]

Vyna talked over the next song, visably irritated and not wanting to let something else interrupt her. "I'm not exactly a fan of such songs either, I prefer symphonies and orchestras over the lone quaint bard with his little instrument. As romantic as that image is, I find such music lacks... complexity..."

She looked at the blades. "Dual blades... thats an interesting style. Not many people try to master it. I am impressed..." She commented. She patted her own rapier, "I prefer lighter blades myself, allowing me precision, flexibility and speed which longswords don't... As for my sister, she doesn't have so much... finesse, so she prefers axes over blades."

"I see..." Mehran spoke, lowering his blades as he considered her words, "I suppose I feel the same way, though I don't really have much preference either way. I can lend you a few pieces in my devices if you like. It's not much; they're quite ancient. But a few date back to the times of old Gaea itself. I hope it's up to your taste."

A quick glance at Jynna looking at the crowd forming around the bard, Mehran did not quite agree. Sure, she seemed to have a fairly bulky build, but nothing wrong with crude fitness if it perfected one's strength in combat. Turning back to Vyna with a bow, he answered, "you flatter me, Miss Ayendor. I appreciate it. Of course, I believe everyone has his or her own style of combat. I don't feel there should be an objectively 'correct' style, just one that you have to find which suits you. Just because your sister relies more on brute force doesn't make her a lesser fighter, neither would using a light blade make you beneath anyone. Ultimately, it's how you use the tools at your disposal- oh dear, I'm lecturing again, am I," he blurted, cutting himself short woth a chuckle before he starts rambling again.

"I would be glad to listen to them... Age isn't exactly an issue with me." She replied, resisting the urge to show just how interested she was in favour of keeping her aloof air. She was especially fascinated by older music, the works of a few key composers especially though she wasn't quite able to obtain such things all the time, which was unfortunate. "In fact the older the better. There's less chance that I might have heard it before." She might ask if he happened to have any of those composers in his collection depending on how he responded.

Vyna smirked wider at said lecturing, and that he pointed it out. "Yes, a bit." She replied, chuckling slightly with him. "It's fine though. I don't mind it so much." Vyna did her own fair share of lecturing, though unlike Mehran's they tended to be a little more condescending. "I never meant to insinuate that my younger sister is a lesser fighter. In fact if you've ever seen her in battle, you'd be surprised how much ferocity she can bring to bear." She commented. "And like you said, It would be pointless for her to try and wield a shorter lighter blade as much as it would be pointless for you or I to try fighting with her favoured weapon, of course assuming you have little experience with axes. She plays to her strengths very well." Vyna chuckled slightly again. "Now I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I'm very proud of her, of all my siblings..."

[The Starlight]

The other two had been engaged in a subtly flirtatious dialogue, where they had both begun complimenting each others talent. While possibly genuine, Koren found the act to his distaste, as it seemed sycophantic to him. Of course, all these thoughts were hidden beneath his mental wall, and thus were not presented in any way to the others.

Slev, who had made a clumsy pass at Ellyn, had resigned his fate and sat down.

Of the options available to him, Koren decided to approach Ellyn, Aris, and Slev. Bursting his magic to make himself seem as charismatic as possible, he began to speak.

"Greeting, my friends! Aris, you are one of unimaginable skill. On my home planet, the best we could have were small, self-trained bards who could had to scratch together a living. It is nice to finally hear the voice and melody of a man truly dedicated to his craft, and if you are truly attending this Cathedral, I can not wait to hear what symphonies you develop."

As this happened, Koren could feel Aris was a mentally strong man. His mind was clearly powerful indeed, and any attempt to influence it in this context would likely be futile. He had high focus, and was acutely aware of his mental thoughts.

Ellyn, however, was no so much the same. Her mind was less aware, less keen to the presence of others. Koren could do nothing big, but because he desired it, Koren made sure to attack a small, but appreciable sense of irritation towards Aris. Irritation towards his songs and melody, as Koren was interested in seeing they would both react.

Ellyn smiled and nodded at the newcomer, he seemed friendly enough. She looked out into the wide expanse again, feeling small, all of a sudden. And she was, compared to the universe, she was not even a mere speck or dot. What made her special? she wondered. Why her, of all people? She concluded that it most have been fate, it had to be fate, guided by the hand of Aradain, which had brought her to this very moment. Perhaps one day, she would become more than just a speck, and she hoped that the Academy would help her do just that. One of the fear things she often feared was being forgotten, with the name Ellyn Tarembor lost among the stars forever. She wanted to do something, she wanted to be someone, who impacted the Universe. And whether that would be by her brush, her sword or her magic, that is what she was resolved to do.

Deviating from those thoughts, all of a sudden, she became irritated. She delved deeper into the unwelcome feeling, where had it come from? Perhaps she was unsatisfied by her drawings? No, that couldn't be it, though she wished she had an easel to properly paint, not just draw. She had no irritation at the Universe, no, her life was getting better. Then, she discovered it. It was at Aris, and his song. How dare he defile the name of Lady Syvalladine, whose very name was holy? How dare he destroy her peace, disturb her thoughts? His song brought memories upon her, memories of home which made her want to weep. As all these thoughts raced through her head, Ellyn frowned, though not voicing any of them. No, no, where did all that come from? She had enjoyed the song, she liked Aris, right? Now she was utterly confused, what had she been thinking, just a moment ago? She had just waxed lyrical in her head of the qualities and skills of Aris, and now she was irritated. She really didn't know what was going on. In response, she leaned back and closed her eyes, letting her face relax and smooth, as she waited for the sense of irritation to pass. Her drawing book laid in Aris' palm, she looked forward to seeing what he thought about them, and so she waited, trying to restore peace and order over her thoughts.