Solo [Scholar's Asylum] Birds of a Feather

[Dordei]

Spring 19th - 514 AV Dordei closed the door behind her, her pale hand lingering a moment on the handle as she felt a strange prickling sensation creep up the nape of her neck. She didn't like this place. There was a strange feeling hanging in the air and it made her wrap herself all the more tightly in her cloak. She felt out of her element, like a fish that had grown legs and stumbled upon a family of lizards. Her place wasn't here. It was among the books in the library, where her quill could scurry across empty pages and fill them with wondering whispers and ideas that evaded even the wildest of imaginations. It was in the classrooms where her mind thrived and sprouted like a blooming flower. Not this dwelling of the unclean and broken. She shivered to herself and glanced across the warmly lit room with a sense of apprehension. And to her surprise was met immediately with an equally warm, lovely voice. "You must be D." Dordei blinked and nodded, taking a seat. It took a moment for the full effect of the woman before her to hit her; Bethany, for all purposes a simple name, something she'd garnered from an equally simple nameplate, but the way she carried herself was anything but simple. With hair like silken fire and a smile that could turn the stoniest of men into gushing blubberballs -- Dordei soberly realized why such a person had been elected as an inquisitor and guardian. She was clearly brilliant. No individual held themselves with that sort of poise without an intent, and her intent was clear. Dissection. "It says here you're seeking an entrance to the College of Djed." There was that voice again. Smooth and methodological. "Now, as simply as you can, I'd love it if you'd be so kind to explain why?" "I have an interest in furthering the realm of magic, as both I understand it, and as the rest of the living do." Dordei responded calmly. She'd recited this moment over and over in her head. "And the undead?" Dordei blinked and quietly frowned. That took her off-guard. "Pardon?" Bethany's finger traced over a small book, flipping one of the pages softly. Her voice took on a curious tone, "The undead." The woman's voice was warm. "You said you wish to further your interests for the living, what of the undead?" The girl stared at her, a dawning spark of understanding emerging within the corners of her thoughts. This wasn't an evaluation based on merit, or knowledge. This was something else entirely. Her skin prickled. "I suppose." She uttered slowly. "That my findings, and research, would be published within the confines of the University. That way only those deemed worthy would have access to such knowledge." "You're avoiding the question, dear." There was that creeping warmth again. It felt invasive, almost smothering. Dordei appraised the woman a moment further, frowning quietly. "I'm sorry, I just want to make sure I'm in the correct room. This is the examination for the--" Her voice dwindled as Bethany's demeanor changed. The woman was turning stiff, her eyes losing their previous warmth and radiating an instant coldness that cut through Dordei's chest and into her heart. Something was wrong. "You are correct." The woman responded. "Now please refrain from any chit-chat. We're here to speak in a professional manner." A strange and yet sweet smile crossed her features. "About the undead." The air had changed. There was no pretension of warmth anymore. "They're undead." She responded carefully, watching her inquirer. "What do I think of them? They're inconsequential I suppose. There are hardly any in the world that could even begin to fathom what happens within the halls of the university. And since I've yet to see one beyond brutalizing a man's corpse --" Her words were met with an interruption. "I see." A series of scribbles were made in the book. An awkward silence filled the air as the red-head wrote.

[Dordei]

Dordei watched her until she couldn't bear to look at her any longer. What an odd setting. She took a moment to soak in her surroundings. The room was at first-glance, comfortably furnished. Cushions decorated the chair she sat upon, giving an appearance of comfort, but were stiff and firm. The walls were painted a bright yellow, which, in the first few moments of study, seemed a rather jovial color, so naturally she hated it. And yet the longer the girl observed, the more she found the prickling on the back of her neck seemed to creep up her spine. She tore her gaze away from the wall and back to Bethany, who, was already staring back at her with a faint smile. "You're just not going to cut it." The woman sighed. Dordei stared at her. "I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong?" "Not at all dear, not at all." Bethany responded smoothly, her voice a gentle purr. "It just so happens that we have a strict policy, here, you see. Purely for the public's safety. It's not your fault, just policy." Dordei couldn't help but stare. "You only asked me one question." She was met with a kind smile. "That was all I needed." "I demand an explanation." "You don't need one." "I beg to differ." "Beg as you please." The young woman's face had turned a faint pink, a stark contrast to the cascade of black that surrounded her face. "I refuse to back away from this. I want to know what I've done that is worthy to deny me access." "Oh do you?" Bethany laughed softly, a gesture that evidently only made the girl tense further. Her voice tinkled like bells. "My dear child, do you understand the dangers this college presents?" "I've witnessed the halls of the Asylum, yes." "Then you understand why I cannot allow you in this particular section of the establishment. Greater figures than you have broken from stresses so minor one would think them a mere simpleton. But the truth, is, child." The last word was like a lash to the face, and Dordei flinched as she felt it burrow into her head. "The truth is that you are unfit." Bethany's voice had dropped to a whisper, that disturbing smile still evident. Her startlingly green eyes were filled with hidden malice. "You are unfit, and you will not make it because you do not possess the capacity, the desire, the fortitude, the wherewithal, the talent, the aptitude to harness or control: Djed. Men and women have stood above you and moved worlds, ingested energies you cannot begin to comprehend, conquered minds and bodies that evade the definition of what it means to be mortal." The woman's eyes were no longer filled with malice. It was something more akin to a sociopath's gaze. Empty, only to be filled by a reflection of the prey. The little scholar was white as a sheet -- the blood had drained from her face. The seconds ticked by and stretched. She understood now, and she was disturbed by the truth. The room wasn't what was making her neck prickle. It wasn't the cushions, or even the knowledge of unseen, broken patients lying strapped and screaming so deeply inside their own rooms that not even the Gods could hear them. This was the test. This was her individualized test, from Bethany's bluntness to the surroundings. This was meant for her, this moment, those words, and everything from the way the furniture was organized to the clothing her questioner wore was designed to heighten the experience. And it was working. Her lips were dry as they parted and she mouthed silently, her lips making the motions but the words slowly forming a second too late. "Then say it." "I don't believe you." The words burst out, rushed and angry. She had never felt so carved open. Her fears of inadequacy, her lack of talent, plagued her on a deeper level than she cared to admit. And here was someone who within a mere few minutes of meeting her who possessed the ability to bring it to the surface. It appalled her. It made her feel nauseated. Bethany stood up, placed the book on the desk, drew a sheet of paper out of a thin stack, and made a tiny scrawl towards the bottom. She flourished it and handed it to Dordei. The girl took it and furiously began to study the contents, ready to refute what she knew to be a mistake. The pamphlet was simple, a form of admission. It read as a letter of acception. Dordei eyes met the woman's, confused. "Your potential is not in question, but your zealotry is. Ensure that you sleep often and don't overwork yourself. Time is not your concern, your mental-state, however, will be if you are not guarded and constantly alert." The words were listed like a medical diagnosis. Dordei was still staring. The red-head was hunched over her papers, the tiny book she had been holding laying open and empty. "I thought--" "Go. Before I change my mind." The woman looked up lightly. Her eyes were faded, and she seemed much older than she had when Dordei first entered the room. That smile was still there, though. "I've asked what I needed to and made my decision. You are lucky you came to this university as early as you did. Do not make me regret this, or I will make you regret it when you've been locked away." The girl stood hesitantly, slowly gathering courage and drawing herself up before nodding her head silently and simply stepping away. Her skin was cold, she noted as she walked through the hallways and turned past a busy scribe, nose buried in scrolls. And her head ached. But the prickling was gone.

[Neologism]

Grade Awarded!

Skills

Skill	Points
Observation	+2 xp
Persuasion	+1 xp

Lores

➢ The Scholar's Asylum: It's creepy
➢ Bethany: Is Intimidating
➢ Potential Is Not The Problem, Dedication Is
➢ Avoid Overworking yourself
➢ You've been accepted into the College of Djed

Comments

Great Job Dordei! I have to say, I love your writing. Its pretty great how you can pulled out Dordei's personality as a way of showing her dedication ... Since I am a JrST, I need to get my grades approved before I can post them. I apologize for any late grades. If you find any problems or are concerned about anything, please let me know and we can work it out.

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