RP:Further Studies
Valaran steps into the Academy of Magics for the first time in his life; truly this is a remarkable occasion for the young scholar for he stands in awe, mouth slightly agape, as he takes his first look at the Academy’s spacious halls. The young man appears to be in his early twenties and, as indicated by the notable obsidian robes upon his being, seems to be a mage of the Xalious Tower far to the southwest. It’s apparent that the man had traveled the long distance between the two establishments of higher learning for his vesture is covered in a light dusting of filth from the road. A single slender digit rises to usher his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he steps further in to the spacious main room. He walks down one row of desks, tracing the oak and pine surfaces of those on one side with the corresponding hand as he makes his way to the apparent master’s area connected to the rest of the room via an elegant staircase. Not daring to be so bold as to ascend the staircase, Valaran instead peers up at the alcove in search of a master and, should he find one there, hopes to catch his or her eyes.
Luthentius would be found deep within the lone heart of the majestic sanctuary of magic and knowledge- Comfortably seated within the usual high ridged chair, behind an seemingly masterly carved desk of dark oak, the grey one reside. Before the regal wizard of high elven origin countless sheets of papyrus appear claiming the overall space of the desk, scattered across the polished surface of the tabletop, nevertheless, his attention was evidently entirely devoted toward an seemingly oversize tome that currently adorned a great portion of the desktop. Within a loose grip betwixt slender digits an extravagant pen of a goose was swiftly guided across the papyrus of this large book, the script elegant and accurate despite the obvious haste of which it was written, the 'ink' seemingly glistening within an remarkable hue of deepest scarlet. Luthentius had, however, not been as inattentive as would have be anticipated when taking upon him to finish his notes within the Book of Grey, but had indeed observed, yet not with steely sight, the entrance and presence of the youthful male. As the scalp of the youngling as well his glance would elevate to match that of the height of the alcove, the gaze of the Wizard of Grey rise to meet his, Approach.. rumbled the vocals of the elder in an commanded undertone.
Valaran turns aside to ascend the staircase and approach the Wizard of Grey, naught but the clack of footsteps and sweep of pens disrupting the silence of the room. The young magus balances his spectacles with one hand as he bows respectfully before the master. “Hail, Master Luthentius,” he says, rising from his bow, “I am Valaran of Xalious, a student of the Mage’s Tower there, and have come to you in search of further knowledge.”
Luthentius allowed his stare to remain momentarily upon the seemingly frail exterior of the youngster, granting him an time of scrutiny before taking to word. The elderly one's own visage and posture indicated highly toward the status, filling the male with an deep serene display of utter and unwavering indifference. Salutations, young Valaran of Xalious... became the retort in response to Valaran as the pen ceased it's rampage upon the relatively rough surface of the papyrus, A student of magic, are you? Another swift glance served to eye the man from toe to cranium. Know, youngling, that this academy specialize mostly toward the elemental aspect of the arcane world. We educate the basics of the spheres in order to elevate the standards of to day's children, as incompetent as they have become. The elder silenced, allowing the younger to respond.
Valaran nods in understanding as he listens to the master’s brief explanation of the Academy. “Indeed,” he says, “And should I be found an acceptable addition to your institution, I would very much like for you or one of your teachers to have a look at this.” The young magus pulls his pack from off of his back and from it procures a particularly old and archaic tome. Upon the book’s brown leather face is carved an intricate rune above which is written a title in some long forgotten language. “This recently fell, quite literally, into my possession… I wonder if the language is one you are familiar with?”
Luthentius casually leaned forth in to his, faintly throne-like, high ridged seat, allowing further insight of the leather bound book presented, Hm, an interesting piece. Sharp eyes of mercury hues timidly squint, gaining even further advantage to see the scripture mentioned. Seems to be elven, yet not of these times. Eight, maybe nine-hundred years of age, I would say. The inscription is ancient, from a language spoken by a group no longer existing. The lore is... not for the ears of a child. The wizard once more reclaimed his comfortability, allowing his length to rest against the pillowed ridge. However, he began, successfully shielding the display of curious to reveal itself upon the visage of old, dispite the urge to claim the tome for himself. On the issue of acceptance, there are a few rules of which you would be bound to follow. Calmly the aged scholar shuffles through the papyrus and soon comes to produce a single sheet of parchment, Take this and read it through. Secondly, young Valaran, you are to decide what kind of element you wish to further your insight of.
Valaran takes the parchment in question and reads over it not once but three times to ensure acknowledgement of all written thereon. A few things cause the young mage to wince, notably the decision to be made; up until this point, he had been a scholar of every school of magic… To pick a specialty at this point is no simple task. Nevertheless, Valaran nods once done reading the agreement. “I agree with all written herein, Master Luthentius,” he says, his voice solemn and low, “As for an element… I wish to learn more about the school of pyromancy if that’s acceptable.”
Luthentius ' narrow lips slightly purse upon the continuous error in the young man's speech, "Within the halls of this academy, the title of my authority is Headmaster, youngling. Yet such will be clearer at the end of the first lesson, I assure you. No matter. I noticed a slight fluctuation in your persona, as is common by the youths coming to these halls. It is their belief that they will magically become masters of every single element, fire, earth, water and wind..Yet such is not the case. To become adept in the field of elemental magic, one must be patient, learning the weave of each string of magic- bringing the fabric of reality to completion. Or do you believe you are able enough to master that of all of the spheres, Valaran?" The Wizard of Grey gently rose from his seat now, elevating his true length to overshadow the persona of the male before him, not for intimidation, rather to gain ability to scout the ever shifting weave swirling about his aura. "It takes a -true- elementalist to skillfully and appropriately wage the magic of all the spheres with sufficient wisdom not to rip an entire whole in the reality as we know it. I, myself, spent much over five-hundred years of each to fully understand their power. No, specialization is key, unless you'd rather take the place at a teachers side, then that of a Master? For the teachers job is to prepare the pupils that are not ready for an elementalist's tasks, giving a more general knowledge before advancing to become a pupil of a Master."
Valaran shakes his head at Luthentius’ inquisition. “No, of course not, Headmaster. I am no fool,” he bites, obviously feeling slightly offended for some reason or other, “It’s taken me twenty five years to learn what little I know. It’s just… I’d much rather understand the basics of all than the intricacies of one.” The young magus waves his hand through the air as if to dismiss the topic. “No matter,” he says, “I have made my decision… As far as the academy is concerned, I shall delve deeper into the school of fire.” A hand reaches into his bag and withdraws a pouch full of coins. “Is the two thousand to be paid to you or someone else?”
Luthentius said to you, "Very well. I shall make the necessary arrangements needed for your admittance. You will receive a letter with further information about whom will be lecturing you and how to get in contact with this person. The coins you can place on the desk, and then you simply have to wait for an reply from the academy."
Valaran nods yet again, dropping the hefty bag of coins upon the table. “I appreciate the opportunity, Headmaster,” he says cheerfully, “Now… If you will, can you perhaps recommend an inn nearby? I will be seeking more… permanent residence upon my acceptance, of course, but I would be loathe to make the long trek back to Xalious if I’ll have to come back soon anyway.”
Luthentius said to Valaran, "I can, in fact. I highly recommend you visit the Red Ogre Inn, a pleasant little establishment in this good city."
Valaran said to Luthentius, "If you could, perhaps, write out some directions, I will be on my way."
Luthentius inclined a nod, leading forward to reclaim the extravagant goose-pen previously used, dipping it in to the vial of scarlet ink, a hastily note was written down. Once finished, the wizard settled the tip of the pen to rest against the wall of the ink-well and extended the small parchment toward the youth, There you are. Now, off you go. I have plenty to do before the day is over. Once being relieved of the parchment, Luthentius waves in dismissal toward the massive gate leading out toward the cold streets of Larket.
Valaran takes the parchment in hand and, without another word, makes his way down the staircase and towards the Academy gate. Once again, he fondly traces a single hand across a row of desks as he makes his way down the aisle. He pauses only once upon reaching the gate, taking the time to check the directions given him, before stepping out onto the streets.