Enrolling

[19:38] The old man takes Seifer's arm with one hand, puts the other in his bag-

And light starts to shimmer.
(Ethric Athelier)
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[19:38] Idris Selsk asks, "seem fair?"
[19:38] Seifer accepts this.
(Seifer Gardios)
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[19:38] Ethric Athelier says, "Fair."
[19:38] Ethric Athelier exclaims, "Hahn!"
[19:38] Ethric Athelier says, "Ahem."
[19:39] Seifer Gardios says, "..."
[19:39] Seifer Gardios asks, "Hahn..?"
[19:39] Ethric Athelier says, "So-"
[19:39] Ethric Athelier says, "Upon that observation I asked you to make."
[19:40] Ethric Athelier asks, "Were you able to do so?"
[19:46] It took time for them to finally get the opportunity to speak face-to-face. The young one had expected this moment to come in some sort of office where he could crack a joke or two, yet it was far from this. Instead he was prompted with the biggest question right away.

"I think I understand what you meant. I had a bit of trouble because we were outside but... It felt as if when Xuelian drained himself of all of his mana his magic died off with him. Not... In the spell fizzling out type of deal, but as if it lived through him."

He stopped for a moment, moving closer to the waters where he felt more comfortable. A hand is reached up to adjust his glasses.

"I saw... cold. More than cold. It was like a cold night far, far up north."

Maybe he was onto something, or maybe the magic put on display was hinting too much.
(Seifer Gardios)
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[19:56] "It doesn't die, in truth."

As they stand near the inlet of Starfall's many rushing flows of water, Ethric gestures with a hand- Inviting with a curl of fingers, and a motion over his shoulder, for the young man to follow.

"Mana- The breath of our soul, may burn out when we call and apply it into the world as our will. However, the impression it leaves carries on- Drawn back into the lifestream. An imprint, recycled into new essence for the world."

"Great emotions- Regrets and tragedies, unrest and violence, warmth and bittersweet joy- Cause us to let off essence into the world for it's fuel as well. Echoes that resonate into the spirit and are used as the casting molds for the life that springs up."

"Most magic gets carried away- But there are places distant from human civilization where the morass of humanity's power is flushed back into the natural world. Enchanted glades, holy springs, resonant peaks- These are where mages go to tap into the fresh, fully purified font."

"But-"

He steps southwards.

"Let me illustrate precisely what this is, then- what happens when what flows there begins to clog with rips. With foul emotion. With blackened mana."
(Ethric Athelier)
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[19:59] Following along the man's footsteps the young one added his own thoughts to the process, part of learning was to share such after all.

"So every spell cast dissipates not due to a lack of mana, but because mana itself is... drawn back into the world? Into the lifestream?"

Despite carrying books on him at all times he was far from being the brightest mind on Esshar. His worry seems to grow more and more as they approach the shadowy lands.

".. It's so dark."
(Seifer Gardios)
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[20:07] A slow, quiet nod-

As they ascend up, past the splotches of taint to a proper overlook over the southern horizon of Starfall.

Eyes. as far as they can see, behold the beginning of the Shadowmire.

The grass, in places, withers grey, before it starts to take on desaturated, sickly tufts of pale violet and weathered crimson. The treeline seems to grow skeletal, ill, as the hues of early autumn are forced into a sharp recusion, the leaves growing tight, sharp, barbed, and twisting down, down into unhealthy flat tones, where leaves don't simply lie bare and leave gnarled, dessicated corpses.

The more than the late evening sun, the further back that Seifer can see, a palpable GLOOM hangs in the air. Just looking at it provokes a sympathetic taste of iron and ash on the tongue, as the water flowing through distant creaks flows brown and tarry in the distance...

"This is the doing of man, so far from civilization."

"This is what needs actually fixed." A finger points.

"... People live there, Mister Seifer. They eke out an existence- The outcasts of creation, who are unsafe elsewhere. The vast majority of them are not cruel. They are not unkind."

"They are the descendants of the poor, the outlawed, the deformed, those born with occult magic and driven out, the creatures detested by humanity with nowhere else for them to huddle in safety. They form an unhealthy relationship eith their touch of the smog of dark magics."

"If you see a rift mage tear open a hole, it is not always there and then that the damage is done."

"Nethradin seep constantly out of what was formerly an enchanted glade, deep near the heart. Many of them harass and torment even the inhabitants."

"Tell me, Mister Seifer-"

"How would you heal this?"

His hand splays, over the vast, vast tract of blightland, spilling out before them in terrible misery.
(Ethric Athelier)
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[20:18] The teenager was met with more than a sight. He had believed that appearance was all that tainted these lands but the truth became more obvious as the scent of decay and destruction filled his nostrils with each passing step. His lips parted, sharing thoughts that were never prompted.

"It feels... hard to breathe."

A difficult, deep breath was had within this oppressive cesspool of dark magic, this deformation of the world itself tortured further by each and every tear in reality that came to be.

The world was beautiful.
The world was suffering.

The Headmaster's words reached him, and yet the boy would not answer just yet. His eyes were scanning the area around them. His body was drawing in the foul mana that floated around, leading to frowns, squints, and small unnerving shift in his form.

It was horrible. Who could bring themselves to destroy the world in such a way. A small shake of his head came with honesty.

"I don't know how. But..."

Green eyes make their way towards Ethric.

"I think I know who."
(Seifer Gardios)
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[20:26] The man's own slitted eyes slowly pan over.

"... I would like to."

"It is a difficult prospect- To heal this place, I need to heal the hearts of it's inhabitants." His voice is quiet, soft. "Many meet the inhabitants of these realms with violence. They crash, destroy, and kill places like these. Burn them desolate."

"Wait for the balance to return anew- If it ever does." A thinning of his lips.

"... I do not condone those methods. It is painful. Within that realm are many sapient souls who- If you speak to them. Will be grateful for your company and companionship."

"The mystery of who, and what, the creature known as Mother Nyx is, lies heavily over it. Are they the spirit of this wood, warped and tainted?"

"I am relatively certain they are not truly a primordial. The mythology they give their followers is falsified- Untrue. Like that of the Uraheim spirits who siphon their worship from the sirenians." A soft crinkle of his brow.

"It gives them hope, however. Without knowledge- I cannot crush that hope. Slowly- I believe with righteous action and assistance, the people intend to try to trade with Osrona. To touch humanity once more."

"With guidance, they could either lean into the cult that gives them faith and be betrayed- Or, perhaps, even the spirit of these woods might be rescued into something healthy, and the fae and ents of this realm might know peace and safety."

"... If you want to aid- Consider that your first grand task to begin." A pan of his hand, back to the dark woods...

"Find out who, and what, Nyx is."

"If you wish to do so without faltering, without being cut down, without igniting hostilities-"

"You will need to become wise enough to tell fact from fiction. You will need enough mercy in your heart to treat even those damned by black magics with generosity and kindness, and the understanding of justice to know when it is truly right to name a culprit= How to prevent wrongs from continuing, rather than the pursuit of revenge."

"Do you want to walk that form of path?"
(Ethric Athelier)
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[20:45] Amidst the darkness a small laugh escaped from Seifer.

"Oh. You thought I meant you."

He certainly had aspirations that were big enough; a necessity for all and any who walk the path of mending the world, surely.

His focus was then brought once more towards the dark woods as Ethric shared his thoughts, his empathy for the dark beings who could hardly reach the hearts of humanity. Vile feelings could only follow suit in a case like this one. The young hopeful one eventually spoke, sharing his own thoughts on the matter.

"Miss Loire and I spoke about something... similar to this. She feared that I should not have been so generous towards her. That I should have kept my money rather than give her some when she needed it. She shared that she may have been a bad person, that some may have died due to her actions.

I told her that even the worst person in the world could be redeemed. At least that's what I believe. The world is beautiful. Most of it. Places like this one were tainted by those who put their own personal gain above the world, but... I don't think we can judge them for that.

We don't know what brought them to take such extreme measures.

I understand that you want to know what Nyx truly is because... you like information. At least that's how I see it. Though it'll help me better understand what pains those creatures and maybe... Probably, it will help me better understand the world."

A moment of silence followed before Seifer's attention shifted to the man.

"Judging by their appearance some of these beings are long dead. And while killing them is not going to fix anything, I think that the greatest mercy I can offer them is to track down what they'll need to go on a peaceful rest. What keeps those dark magics in our world rather than finding itself recycled into the lifestream.

.. I don't know if I'm right, and I don't know if this is the path you're thinking of, but that's the one I'll walk.

Fixing the world starts with understanding it; I've seen its beauty already so I need to understand how ugly it can become."
(Seifer Gardios)
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[20:56] He flicks the young man's nose, casually, with a large forefinger.

"Oh, I knew who you meant. I merely wanted to inform you that I hoped to, as well." The corners of his mouth momentarily twitch upwards- Before he sobers, quietly.

"... I am perhaps the most biased on the topic of undead." His voice softens heavily. "What you must know is that- Most of them. Are sapient souls. They should have been allowed to move on. To become someone on their own."

"But- They are people. They do not know how many sensations they lack, the comprehension having been stripped from them." A thickness of his throat weighs down every note. "They were 'born' in the cruellest way possible."

"... Please be kind to them." A far gaze stares out for a long moment.

"If you can lay them to rest positively- That is good. I..."

"I know the undead far too well." Eyes shut, firmly.

A pause. He clears his throat, lids shut even still.

"... In terms of immediate work you can do."

He exhales. "I will get you registered for classes. Get me your full name. Age. Place of origin. Legal guardians. Magical affinities." A sharp cock of his head.
(Ethric Athelier)
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[21:07] The touch on his person was unexpected and nearly had him drop his glasses, barely catching them in mid-air before a terrible fate could happen. A small sigh escaped his lips while he adjusted them once more, listening to Ethric share a bit of his weakness aloud.

The way the man spoke seemed to have shifted, too. Seifer definitely noticed it; no longer was it an exposition of the world but more a request made towards a fifteen years old for him to overcome insane odds.

"It sounds like you have yet to make peace with someone you've had to lay to rest. I don't really know who, or why, or if they were undead but..."

Green hues peer over.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

His registration could wait.
(Seifer Gardios)
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[21:18] {Item} You picked up Zhrani Amunet's Letter To Ethric Athelier, 1828..
[21:18] {Item} You drop Zhrani Amunet's Letter To Ethric Athelier, 1828.
[21:21] For a moment, at the top of the hill overlooking the southern half of Starfall, the wind blows cold in the early fall. It isn't a stern breeze, but lips twist in it nonetheless.

"... Necromancy is an art that is fortunately, outdated." His voice is quiet. "Learn the white arts if you ever miss your loved ones. Learn the arts of contacting the spirits. Never get involved with it."

"If you find a man practicing it- Stop him. He has alternatives. Show him them." Hands clench into fists. "Options we never had, before."

"... I... I do not want to talk about that. No."

"I would rather talk about good memories. Not... Bad ones. I love remembering the warmth of his voice. His laughter, all forms of it. Spending hours talking about idle philosophy. His reaction to tasting food for the first time. How silly he was, when he tried to dance with me."

"I would rather remember those things. I would rather remember when it was not so hard to keep him lucid enough for a conversation."

Silence.

"... Ahem."
(Ethric Athelier)
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[21:29] The breeze that brushed against his skin and pushed down his form was nothing but cold in that moment. It was clear that Ethric had not made peace with the death of a loved one by this point, indicating that at the very least Seifer's empathy was on point. Rising to the tip of his toes the young one's hand reached up, placing itself upon the Headmaster's shoulder.

"Hey... It'll be fine. He's in a better place now. Probably wondering what's taking you so long to join him."

An attempt at cheering the man up along with a smile. For healing the world began with healing the hearts of those wounded. Evidently the Headmaster fell into that category. As the boy's hand fell down he finally provided the information needed.

"Seifer Gardios. Fifteen. Osrona. My parents are... gone. My mother was from Osrona, my father from Somewhere in Magnolia. He left for her and never saw his own home again. Water's the only magic I've got an affinity with."
(Seifer Gardios)
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[21:29] * You have been awarded 3 Roleplay Points! *
[21:43] Those initial words don't seem to put him at ease. If anything, it makes him fidget.

Something goes unsaid.

But the hand reaches a bit further, the man exhaling. His shoulder is tense, underneath the stiff fabric and difficult topic- But it slowly eases.

Dew subtly lines him- Touching him is ever so slightly damp, but clean. Cold like a stream- Not frigid like a glacier. A deep, slow breath in. The relative polarization of Ethric as a general font of mana is palpable.

Strong emotions elicited, indeed.

"... Apologies, then. I- Will take census." A hand softly waves- As he exhales quietly. "I... Would enjoy hearing your own tale, at another time, perhaps. If you would want to share it- Perhaps I would trade it for more of my own."

"It grows late." The sun has dipped at last before the horizon, leaving the darkness to creep forwards under the shadow of twilight. "We'll get you situated at campus. You'll need a dormitory partner. Consider asking Mister de Vir..."
(Ethric Athelier)
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[21:48] "I don't know if I'm ready for the campus life... Or having a dorm partner. Or even living in a dorm, really!" He said, shaking his head. This was a bit too much and a bit too sudden for him. Perhaps it was the shift in Ethric's mana that had him grow more honest instinctively, trying to escape a situation he hardly knew, or maybe it was the sensation he felt when touching him.

How odd.

"It's... a bit much, if I'm honest."
(Seifer Gardios)