Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[Hopeflower]

"Going home to have dinner and rest," Firel replied as though it was obvious. His pace didn't slow, even when the heel of his boot came down on a hidden patch of ice and threatened to slide out from under him.

[C S]

Dahnae bit her lip at the loss in poise, but did not do as she normally would and throw herself to Firel's rescue. She didn't know if doing so would send him into the snow, for one, and secondly, she didn't want to annoy anyone again. She simply accepted it when the elf did not tumble and continued on. "Oh. I thought you were trying to be a sneaky-sneak, hiding your head and all," Dahnae replied.

[Hopeflower]

"It's cold," Firel replied simply, keeping the lie simple by sticking to pointing out the obvious. "I think I'd like to keep my nose attached to my face."

[The Kingpin]

It wasn't very long until the Scholar spotted Ceridwen rounding a corner. Beshayir was walking at her side, or rather, skipping along excitedly. Septimus smiled at that; a good day in class. He had been worried, because she had been one of the youngest people in the class when he first brought her there. She wouldn't have to worry too much about bullying, as everyone there was essentially an adult and most of them seemed mature enough that they wouldn't be a problem. But for a girl so young to be put in this place alone to learn magic, when previously she'd been afraid of being left alone by the Scholar and the Mage for fear that they wouldn't return, it was quite a leap.

As soon as she was close enough, she dropped onto the bench at Syria's side, sandwiching her between the Scholar and herself.

"Productive day?" asked the Scholar.

"Very," answered the elf. It was almost surreal, hearing her speak that way. She had, at this point, all but mastered the language. Gone were the days where she was afraid to speak for fear of slipping up, and even her occasional pauses, where she had forgotten what word she wanted to use in the language, had become surprisingly rare. She'd even picked up some of the Scholar's and Daavenian Mage's mannerisms.

[C S]

"Details, dear," Syria beckoned. Unsurprisingly, Beshayir carried with her a dry aroma. It was difficult for her to describe as she ruminated on the sensation. The pure smell of fire that only ate the air itself, and produced no smoke. But there was something else too. Steam...?



Dahnae tilted her head. "I don't like the cold either, and I'm no expert on snowy things, but I don't think it will get cold enough for your nose to fall off." As far as she knew. Did Firel know something she didn't? It worried her.

True to the viking's word, she was off doing her rounds. Except, in this instance, being out and about town meant sitting on a bench down the street the two were walking down with a book in her lap, and a mug of something steaming placed beside her. Her scaly armor took to the light in a strange way, its rumpled texture collecting light on the bumps and ridges but delving into shadow elsewhere. Her helmet was the brightest part about her, shining underneath the streetlamps.

For all appearances, it looked as if Evisa was just waiting for Firel to turn up, and by luck alone he chose the wrong street to head down. It would have been easy to forget she had the means to keep her drink warm indefinitely as she sent her eyes down the lines of text. A bestiary.

[The Kingpin]

"Ms. Orthelia did a demonstration today. The Hydromancy instructor came to the gymnasium after we finished practising our streams and dismantling spells and duelled our Instructor and there was fire and water and steam and ice everywhere!" said Beshayir, a bit more excitedly than she intended. "Um...I tried to ask Moira if she could teach me a bit of hydromancy...but Ms. Orthelia told her off for inviting us to her classes," she added a bit sheepishly.

"And you were afraid she'd get upset with you," continued Septimus understandingly, the Elvish girl nodding slowly. "Hmm...I think we'll have a talk about your classes for a while and see if we have time to enroll you for that. If not, then I'll teach you myself," he promised with a smile, which immediately washed away the uncertain expression on her face.

[C S]

Syria, perhaps following along a bit too literally, raised a brow. So another teacher stepped into the gym after a lesson, tried to offer her classes to the students and was challenged to duel for her efforts? The mage blinked. Really, what was Septimus going to do with her? As long as Beshayir was happy and felt like she was learning things, she was just fine. "I don't know much about that kind of stuff, but I'll give it my best as well!" Syria pledged.

[Hopeflower]

"It's not a matter of how cold it is, it's a matter of how long you're - "

Firel caught sight of the waiting woman and cut himself off with a curse that was almost snarled. For a change, his temper was directed inward rather than outward. He debated, for a long moment, turning down one of the unlit alleyways along the street to avoid walking by Evisa. That, however, was just asking for even worse trouble.

The incidents being spoken of behind closed doors had not gone unnoticed by civilians. People, most notably elves, were being assaulted at an alarming rate. Some were turning up dead - or worse, not turning up again at all. It was getting more and more common to see someone, usually just one person, asking after a friend or a coworker.

With an inward sigh, Firel kept walking. He cleared his throat and finished his earlier statement. "It's how long you're out in it."

The unrest was something that was also weighing on Viho as he walked the now-familiar path home. The years had taught him never to completely lower his guard, but he was unusually tense on this night, even for him. The shadows that had once seemed soft and comforting in the streetlights looked darker now. He sent out probes to check the length of every alley he passed thoroughly, even though he already knew they were more than likely empty.

Hunted. That was the word for the knot of anxiety and anticipation curled tightly in his gut. He felt hunted, in this city that aimed to be a place for heroes.

It was almost funny.

[C S]

Dahnae looked from Firel to the evident source of his distress, and did a double take between them a few times before offering, "I can take her. All I need to do is keep my hair out of her reach and I'm golden."

Evisa, on the other hand, simply flipped to the next page of her book and continued her reading, caught in her own world for the time being. A little break from being den mother, however short it was bound to be.

[Hopeflower]

"No," Firel replied maybe a touch too quickly. "It'll be fine." I think. The last thing he needed was to inadvertently start a fight between two women who clearly had bad blood between them already. Besides, Evisa seemed to be on good terms with Viho, and he wouldn't let his students get into potentially lethal trouble without lifting a finger to help...or so Firel hoped.

[The Kingpin]

The girl hugged the Mage at that, reaching for Septimus too, the Scholar obliging.

A moment after the child relinquished her grip of them however, she was talking once more. "I learned how to narrow out my stream. I can make it spin like those...What're they called....Uwafeer?" she said, glancing at Septimus for help with the last word.

"Dust devils...So, like a cyclone, perhaps?" he offered with a smile of amusement, and not a small measure of pride.

"Yes! Like a cyclone," she said, putting special emphasis on the word so she wouldn't forget it. " But not just like a cyclone. Cyclones go up. I was making the stream spin like that, but going straight instead. I can make it as thin as a finger now! Nobody else has done that in class!" she said eagerly.

"Oh that's useful! But...Well, you might want to ask Orthelia tomorrow if she thinks you should keep doing that in class. I don't think she'll disagree, so long as you can control it. It'll keep the fire from getting wide enough to risk hurting your classmates, but she knows better how to run her class. She may be planning to teach you all that later," suggested Ceridwen, speaking up for the first time since they arrived here. She had grown rather attached to the young Elvish girl. She was beginning to see why Septimus had taken her in as he did.

[C S]

"It's a wonderful thing if Beshayir is ahead of her class," Syria observed with some reserved pride. Now if only it were some other kind of magic. It couldn't be helped if the desert child took after all that was hot as second nature, though. It certainly couldn't be helped if she especially took after Septimus' fiery nature. "Just try to not make everyone too jealous, dear." Syria said that much with a genuine smile.




Dahnae gave her classmate a look that silently asked, 'You sure?' before relenting, again, not wanting to irritate him. "Your nose might fall off if you just stay still," was all she had to say about that. She reflexively began massaging hers.

[The Kingpin]

"I won't, I promise," said the Elvish Apprentice with a mock roll of her eyes. "But I want to learn more...I want to be able to...make water appear out of thin air and make food grow with a flick of a wand," she said, getting absorbed into her wishful musing.

"All in good time, Beshi. You'll learn everything in time. Just be patient. For now focus on your pyromancy in class and we'll teach you to do other things afterwards. Perhaps, drawing water out of the air. That would be useful wherever you go," stated the Scholar as he rose to his feet. "Now then, shall we walk?" he asked, Ceridwen nodding, wanting to move somewhere she didn't have to worry about obstructing any paths. She was beginning to see why Septimus spent so much time in his Elf form around cities...

[C S]

"And we'll be off," Syria agreed, rising and helping Beshayir to her feet. There was just a little pang of sadness at the thought that the girl was at the point where she wouldn't want to be picked up like she used to. Not that Syria was in any shape to be lifting Beshayir with any regularity. It was the gesture of it all, rather than feasibility that got her. All just a part of Beshayir growing up.

[Hopeflower]

Firel managed to refrain from sighing, but he couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "It won't be that long," he said. Hoped. He started forward again, sticking his hands in his pockets to ward off the chill biting into his fingertips.

[C S]

Evisa would have missed the elf if she hadn't stopped her reading to pick up her mug and drink. It was almost comical, seeing her lift the mug to her helmet and drink through the sharp space between the metal. "Oh, hey. It's you," she said in a bit of an underwhelming greeting. Nothing much to be brave about, it seemed. "You still up for that lesson, or did Viho tucker you out? You look just about done with life from where I'm sitting."

[The Kingpin]

The Scholar stepped to one side of the young, though admittedly not very small Elf, letting Syria stand at her other side. The young girl was growing, steadily nearing Syria's own height, at this point only a head shorter. It was strange to think that one day soon, she would be her own woman, leading her own life, probably without Septimus and Syria guiding her.

"Syria and I went on a little shopping trip while you two were away. I think you'll like what we've purchased," said the Scholar with an entertained smirk, looking forward to the reaction he'd get next.

"What did you get?" asked Beshayir and Ceridwen simultaneously.

"A whole barrel of honey!" exclaimed Septimus in the most enthused tone he could muster. That earned him a smack on the arm by Beshayir, and a nudge on the head from Ceridwen, the Scholar cackling all the while.

"Why would we need that much honey?" asked the Elf, completely confused.

"That isn't for us. It's a gift for Desrium. But we did get things for you two as well. I promise it's something you'll like," he said afterwards.

[C S]

"Finding a whole barrel of the stuff this time of year wasn't easy, I'll tell you what," Syria stated. "We had to head out into the woods to find some rare berries that I swear are literally just bits of ice stuck to bushes. Apparently they only ripen in the cold, figure that, and the Draxonians have made a bit of a delicacy of them." Syria rubbed her stomach. "They made some good pie, I'll say that much. And the barrel of honey for our trouble wasn't so bad, either."

[The Kingpin]

"I wish you'd saved me some," grumbled the Elf disappointedly.

"Honey?" teased Septimus.

"Pie," answered Beshayir grumpily.

"And you assume we didn't?" he asked. That lit her up, the frown suddenly turning upwards to an almost comical degree.

"Can I have some?" she asked.

"After dinner," he answered.

"What if I want it for dinner?" she suggested.

"You'll miss what I went to so much effort today to prepare for you if you do that. A meal fit for a monarch," he responded handily.

"Lots of it?" asked Ceridwen, a grumble, coming from somewhere that was not her mouth, punctuating her inquiry.

"Unfortunately not more than usual. But I can promise you it will taste so exquisite you'll forget all about that. And again, there's pie to have afterwards," stated the Scholar, a short whine coming from the hungry dragoness at that. Septimus felt guilty for it, but added, "Don't worry. I'll see to it you get a hearty meal in the morning. Before Beshi needs to go to class, we'll go looking for something to contribute to your morning meal. How's that?" he suggested.

"I swear, Septimus, if you suggest 'flatcakes' one more time I will torch every stand in the city to the gr-" snapped Ceridwen before the Scholar cut her off.

"We'll go hunting. Just us two. A few hours before dawn. Sound good?" offered the Scholar.

The dragoness was beaming. "Really? A hunt?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Yes. We could fly South beyond the borders. We're fast enough. Go some place a bit warmer, nearer to a river, where we'll find more game, or maybe fish," he promised.

"Thank you," chirped the dragoness quietly, more thankful than the Scholar had expected.

Sleeping in that stable must not be as warm as I thought for her to be so hungry, he thought quietly. He would see the problem solved.

[C S]

Syria couldn't help but be a little amused by the happening. There was a time when Ceridwen couldn't stand cities, and for over a month she'd been handling Brodudika about as fine as one could expect a wild dragoness to. Instead of being at unease because of her surroundings, she was at unease because there just wasn't enough room to roam and feed. Her heart went out to the feathered drake, glad that Septimus was able to meet her half-way in compromise. "Let's not delay any longer, hmm?" she suggested.