[Flashback]Magic so mysterious[Hadrian]

[Clyde Sullins]

509 AV, Winter 5 Walking through a pathway in the university of Zeltiva, Clyde found himself completely lost. He was pretty sure he was still in the school, since it did appear to have a scholarly look to it, however he had gotten himself all turned around. Suffice to say, Clyde was not learning the schools design to well, and had already gotten lost several times just this day. Rounding a corner which he thought led back toward the front, he walked into a dead end. Getting a bit aggravated, he would let out a loud curse, and scream out in general, "What is wrong with this school, and what sicko designed it!!!" Rounding about, he would quickly go back the way he had come, darting around his eyes, looking for something familiar, or even a window to find his place. Moving quickly and looking back and force, he was most likely making a lot of noise, with him moving fast, and his staff hit the ground every few paces.

[Hadrian]

Two days shy of his twenty-first birthday, Hadrian was still studying like it was his job. In his mind, academia was his employment. Besides, he wanted to have his thesis project planned out well in advance of the Spring term. Stonemiller would expect great things from him with the resources of the University at his disposal, and he wanted to avoid the more acid remarks from Nightshade, the creepy Symenestra professor. He backed out of a door, his satchel full of books and his arms wrapped around yet more. The librarians knew him well, and the archivists let him look at some documents more dubious students were prohibited from viewing without a professor's signature. He wasn't looking where he was going, of course, because he was always somewhere in his head rather than in the present moment, the here and now. This was how he bumped into, well, someone. He didn't see who it was before he fell on his backside, a death grip on the precious books that meant little effort was made to break his own fault. Hence what would likely be a bruised backside in the morning. "Ow, shit!"

[Clyde Sullins]

It seemed not paying attention while walking quickly through a hallway was not the best way to move. Who would have guessed? As he moved quickly, someone came walking out of a classroom, carrying books, as Clyde move on, looking the other way. The other person was knocked backward onto his butt, trying not to drop the books in his hands. Clyde on the other hand was moving forward, and kept on doing so. Tripping on the other person, he went flying forward, losing his grip on his staff. He would skid to a halt several feet along, and his staff would continue to slide quite a bit further. Trying to roll over, and regain his feet, he took in a large gasping breath, as the wind had been knocked out of him. Finally standing up, he would look around to try to see who he had run into. Turning, he would reach down and offer a hand to help the other man to his feet, apologizing. "Sorry about that, im a bit lost and was trying to find my way back." A bit distracted, he tried to locate his staff, which he had lost in the collision. "Have you seen a staff any were?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian stared at the kid who had tripped him, but accepted the help up, managing somehow to hold all the books under one arm, his satchel swinging and throwing off his balance, and all his movements ginger because his backside was aching from its impact with the floor. But the books were undamaged, which meant he wouldn't be fined by the library or killed by the librarians. Walking home, though, would hurt. He blinked at the kid, messy hair and willful energy. "Ahh, it skittered off down the hall a bit," he said, bemused and wondering why a kid would need a staff. Perhaps he had some handicap, which caused him to run into people. But he knew that he should have been watching where he was going, too. "I'm sorry, too. I wasn't watching where I was going." That said, he walked down the hall or, rather, limped, looking for the staff.

[Clyde Sullins]

Looking were the other guy pointed, he saw were his staff had gone. Racing down the hall he snatched it up, and lovingly brushed some dirt off the side from the floor. Answering the question he assumed was going to come, "Thanks, my dad gave this to me before i left, he made it himself. It has sentimental value. Though from the looks of those books they have actual value. Are they okay? I hear the librarians around here can get a bit violent about books." Saying this he would walk back to the other person, and take a look to see if there was any damage to the books. Holding out a hand, and then remembering he was holding books, he withdrew it, and said "I'm Clyde Sullins by the way, nice to meet you, even if the circumstances are not. So were are you headed?"

[Hadrian]

Relieved that the staff was found, Hadrian could only peer at the kid. He himself had been young when he arrived, a season shy of eighteen years, and certainly the children of professors and some special cases came younger, but it still seemed odd. "The books are fine," he assured the youth. "I padded their fall. But yes, if they had been damaged, nothing would have stood in between my ass and a beating, I'm sure." The books hefted to one side, balanced on his hip with his arm around them, he caught the kid's hand and shook it. He was an old pro with stacks of books by now. "I'm Hadrian Aelius. I was just headed to Stonemiller's office to do some research for him. They ran out of carts." He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, but... how old are you? Where are you from?"

[Clyde Sullins]

Relieved that the books were okay, he shook the other students hand. "I'm 16, and I will be 17 next season... is that so young for coming here? I arrived two seasons ago... Im from Syliras, not that far from here." Looking the older student over, he tried to decide how much to say. For many people magic was taboo, and not something to be discussed, however if he was a fellow magic user.... It might be okay. That had really been one of the principle reasons he had left Syliras, they were not so comfortable with magic, and tended to frown upon it, making him having to train in secret with no one around and outside the city... Being careful in his words, he continued on, "I decided to leave the city, for a place were i could develop my skills more... freely... Syliras is not the most.... open place..." Saying this he could not quite catch the others eye, afraid to look straight at him, or say something that might anger him. After saying this, he took a quick look at his face, to see how he had responded to this, whether well or badly.

[Hadrian]

"Oh," he said, thinking on that. "I wish my parents had let me come at fourteen. I would know so much more by now... Well, anyway, I'm from Syliras too." Most Sylirans knew the name of Trajan Aelius, his father, at the very least. "And I suppose it's not quite so open in Syliras. They have the magecrafter, but he works for the Knights, as do the mage-knights. You would answer to the knights if you wanted to practice any major magics, for certes. But you shouldn't feel like you can't go back..." Hadrian preferred Zeltiva for its distance from his family as much as for the font of knowledge that was the University. "So what are you studying in particular?" he asked, shifting the weight of the books and leaning against the wall so he could relieve the strain on his rather unimpressive muscles.

[Clyde Sullins]

At first Clyde was going to make a comment on his misunderstanding, since he had said 2 seasons, which meant half a year previous, and Hadrian had thought he had said 2 Years. But before he could say this, the full impact of what he had said had sank in, and he stopped for a moment. Quickly he recovered, and spoke with a new gush of energy and excitement. This person had not only spoken of magic, but seemed to have no problem with it, he did not even pause in his stride. A large smile cracked across Clydes face as he continued to speak in a gust of words "Everything! It is all so amazing! I dont think there is enough Miza for me to take the classes i wish to learn! For know i am wanting to learn more in magecrafting, and to be introduced some to webbing and auristics, of which i dont know really know anything. For know that is what i am the most focused on, since i must start somewere!!! At least for a beginning!" Perhaps Hadrian was winded from listening to that energy charged paragraph, but finally Clyde did notice that he seemed to be having some trouble holding all of those heavy books. Seeing this, but also wanting to continue on, he would speak quickly, so as to hear a response: "Oh im sorry, those look heavy, would you like me to take a few? I will be very careful. Or perhaps i could help you with them to were you are going, since i am not doing anything at the moment but getting lost?" This last bit would be said with a bit of a laugh, though in truth it really was all he was doing. He just did not seem to have a knack for remembering corridors. Clearly Clyde was a bit conflicted, as he did not want to be rude or to hold him up, but he also did not want to cease this talk. So it seemed the best thing to do was to go with him, and assist him on his trip, and to talk along the way.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian chuckled a little at the kid's vehemence, but it was only because he whole-heartedly agreed. He just wasn't as open and demonstrative about it. Being open meant being vulnerable, and he didn't like that. But he nodded, wishing that he had just grown up in Zeltiva rather than having to move at seventeen, at fourteen, or at any age. If only his parents were professors of magic and he could have been born into the right family, a family where he belonged. But it wasn't to be. "Well, Stonemiller and Nightshade are good magecrafting teachers. The former is helpful, the latter... well, you'll do better just to avoid his barbed tongue. Webbing... well, if you get adopted into a Drykas clan, you might have a chance at that. Nobody here teaches it, or if they do..." He shook his head. Auristics, of course, was common enough and they had plenty of good teachers for that. Hadrian had just been rather slow at picking it up. "Sure, take a few. You can walk with me to Stonemiller's office, anyway."