[Nardothis] Admission or Admonishment
Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2021 3:01 pm
Frost 69th, 120
Daravinic Citizenship Acquired Here
The interrogation was... thorough despite the pair being Valran. They asked many questions, but nothing too invasive. They wanted to be sure of the Rathor’s loyalties to the Empire before allowing them onto these ‘sacred’ grounds. Nuraku left it feeling a sense of suspicion that what she had given them was not enough, but Aeraku seemed more confident to her.
Striding through the academy, Nuraku bore witness to such marvels upon the outer edges of Nardothis’ sweeping ledges and archways, towering columns carved with history and arcane extravagance. It was unlike anything the mage had seen, but when she looked to Nuraku, he seemed rather focused on the path ahead of them. “There is so much magic here,” she said.
”The very air feels so different.”
“I suppose...” said Aeraku. There was blood in the air, and that surprised him more than anything. Someone had bled nearby, as they crossed through thecentral arch into a great courtyard lined with shuffling students. Hanging braziers brimming with plants, not flames, hung like silent, verdant guardians.
Spirits of all manner caught the mage’s attentions. Even the practical uniforms of the students here showed little skin--the Candor was quite strict.
Flanked by guards, the Rathor were a spectacle that drew many whispers and gossip. Daravinic modesty was notorious--a Molded Animus mage was partly uncouth. Presently, Nuraku was a wolf, and callous laughter circulated through the courtyard as the Candor-riddled auditory pox of nobility spread through the area. “This may have not been such a wise idea for us,” said Nuraku to her companion.
“It will pass,” sighed Aeraku.
”Let us see what the headmaster has to say.”
Led high up into the bowels of a great tower, Nuraku continued to admire the architecture, the glowing sconces of mystical stones and bio-luminescent plants lighting the corridors for which there was little light. The Halamire escorting them both stopped before a large office with several students waiting with impatient reverie upon scattered chairs.
“We’re here. Nuraku, I would suggest not talking with anyone until you have had a chance to study the Candor,” he said in a hushed muttering. “Else you suffer your time here.”
Aeraku made a good point, so Nuraku formed an appointment under Aeraku’s guidance and waited, crawling beneath a chair and laying there in abject anxiety. I hate...
This place...
Conformity was not Nuraku’s raison d’etre, as they say. Life within these grounds would no doubt be difficult. The pair waited in silence for the Headmaster to see them, for theirs was a special case--neither of them had funds, nor were they locals. Special attention would be needed to permit their tenure.
Eventually Aeraku was called upon, and he left with his head held high, creeping into the office like a skulking bat. Some half an hour later, he returned. “How did it go?” Nuraku asked.
“Well enough,” Aeraku said simply. “We shall converse later. You should be--”
“Nu-Rak-Uh?” questioned an elderly steward to the hodgepodge of students.
“They didn’t mispronounce your name,” muttered Nuraku to her friend before rising from beneath the chair, trotting over to the woman. She seemed flustered by Nuraku’s mere presence. “Present,” she stated. “I am Nuraku--shall we?”
The lady made it a point to not open the door for her, merely standing by it with the glimmers of some petty game high in her mind. Nuraku sighed, offering the woman a sly side-eye before hopping onto her hinds and pulling the latch to the heavy door, riding forward with its sway and trotting inside.
Within, a man decorated in flowing robes stood sipping wine beside an ornate window, the light filtering in from the sunset quite warm in its orange and purple hues. He turned with a discerning stare, a hand rising to stroke through his long beard. “What’s this?” he questioned as he saw there. “My, my, what are you?”
“A Rathor,” Nuraku answered directly. The Headmaster fetched spectacles from his pocket, and looked down upon her with a certain curiosity. “An Animus mage? Why come to me Molded?”
Sliding beside the desk, she crept up onto the chair and took a seat upon her haunches and tail. “Because my Quirk has left me unable to assess my base form,” she told the Headmaster. “However, unlike other Animus mages, I may Imprint from within any form, which gives me an edge unlike any other.”
The old fellow hemmed and hawed, but eventually relented, taking a seat. “There are few Animus mages within the Darivinic ranks,” he stated as he sat down. “The Candor, even if meant for the Entente, will also influence politics among even Halamveir. Molded forms are seen as immodest. The curriculum typically stresses Integration over Molding as a result, but few students get far in the discipline this way. I am afraid if you are seeking an education here, you will be quite limited socially. It is a simple fact of the ruthlessness of Candor, you see.” The man adjusted his spectacles.
”However, I am under pressure to help streamline graduates for the war effort,” he admitted.
Nuraku tilted her head. “Have you read my admission forms, yet?” she questioned. The man hadn’t, and picked them up, reading over the papers.
“Oh, so you’ve survived four initiations?” he mumbled. “Brave.”
”Bravery will not help you here, however.”
”Might I suggest a form more ... mmmh, homely? A bird or a small and demure thing may earn you more disarming looks. The fur of a wolf is symbolic for ill connotations here. Especially in such gaudy dark hues. Perhaps you can use your Integrations to make something of a dressure. There should be a peacock within the menagerie to Imprint upon. Its feathers should assist.”
Nuraku nodded. “I have imprinted upon an Ermine and a Raven both. I shall use those forms, and then Imprint upon this Peacock for livery.” She sighed. “There is the matter of tuition. I do not presently have a single coin to my name.”
The Headmaster sighed. “There may be a Grant to help lower your personal cost, and the Employment Office will find something for you. Anything else shall be owed on a loan to the institution. You will be in debt for anything you cannot pay, but most pay their debts within a few years of service.”
Nuraku nodded. “Thank you,” she told him.
The headmaster opened a large book filled to the brim with well-used pages, each heavy with ink. His fingers traced the worn pages, flipping through them as he wrote with his other hand in a sprawling, elegant fashion. Soon enough he bound two pages together with a needle and thread, passing them to her. When she realized the woman had no thumbs, he offered a scroll case. “Here,” he said. “This is your missive to the employment office, and your syllabus. It is late in the season, so I have picked classes for you which may allow for catching up, so-to-speak. This academy is a pass-fail system.”
”Mistress De’Amaraise will see to it that you share a dormitory with your scientist companion. You may find her within the Room Authority, which you may find upon the maps to the campus ground etched into the walls about the place. Look for the initials R.A.”
Nuraku nodded to each piece of information streamed to her, reaching out and placing her paw on the tube of papers. “I will not disappoint,” she promised, rolling it forward and snapping it up into her jaws. The headmaster offered one final smile to her before she dipped down from the chair and left, already feeling the chains of the institution weighing upon her free spirit.
Aeraku was waiting for her, ready to go. Setting the tube down momentarily, she spoke to him simply: “I was accepted. I need to visit the menagerie.” Then she picked the tube back up, her ears splaying back. Aeraku could already tell she was not so lively about this.
“Tonight perhaps we could find some wine,” he told her.
Nuraku looked to him before moving her eyes forward, but she did not speak. I would like that... she thought.
The pair first found a map, and navigated through the maze of the academy down, down to the menagerie where there were glass terrariums lining the walls. Students stood nearby with their clipboards, jotting down anatomical notes. Nuraku perused the many animals and found the Peacock in question. Fixating upon it within her mind, she observed the creature silently.
A tug at her jaw broke her concentration, Aeraku taking the scroll case from her. “Uh, thanks,” she mumbled before sighing and refocusing. The bird strutted around with such lack of care for the world. Imprinting upon it felt ...cold, an odd feeling. Unnatural, even. “The Immersion is dull,” she remarked to Aeraku, who feigned a shrug of understanding.
Aeraku studied the bird, how it strutted and moved its eyes. It seemed focused on food, well out of mating season. Still, the tail feathers would be useful. By the time she had fully Imprinted, she had a rough understanding. “We should go somewhere more private,” she mentioned.
“I’m willing to bet the lavatories here are equipped with dressing rooms. Daravinians do love their dressage,” said Aeraku. “I saw one down the hall.”
Nuraku nodded. “That shall suffice.” She followed after Aeraku, who stood watch for her outside while she Molded into an Ermine. With that slowly accomplished, she thought to the Peacock, its tail feathers, lining up the short little ermine tail she had and imagining where the feathers would fall. Drawing upon her magic, she began Integrating fur to tailfeathers, until she had a dozen long, colorful feathers trailing behind her as she hip-hopped out.
Aeraku grunted with surprise as the white, feathery Ermine climbed his robe and perched upon his shoulder. “Did you read our syllabi?” she asked.
He nodded. “I took a glance. We only have Gentevarese in common. Your new form is lovely--I’m sure the students here will adore you,” he smirked.
“I’m not really one for dress,” Nuraku shrugged. “But if I’m going to get back to my body, I’ll put up with looking pretty for now.”
”Housing authority?” she asked.
“I was thinking the same thing. Hopefully the dormitories are at least somewhat private,” he lamented.
”I do hate how the sound carries within this architecture. There is nowhere beneath this dome where you cannot speak without your voice being heard elsewhere.”
“I know...” muttered Nuraku. “This place puts me on edge, as nice as the Headmaster seemed.”
