7th of Fall, 510 A.V. A fickle fall drizzle gusting in from the sea was beginning to squall through the streets of Zeltiva as Azilis made her way to the imposing granite buildings that comprised the University. She shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her, and drew her satchel closer to her in hopes that the books and papers she carried within it wouldn't become marred by the wet. Engaging a bit of her auristic vision so that she would be prepared when she arrived, she took cursory glances of some of the people hurrying through the streets, their shoulders hunched over and eyes cast down. Their auras writhed with frustration, perhaps about the rain or perhaps about the minutiae of their daily lives that she couldn't begin to guess at. When the tall, elegant buildings of the University came into view, she withdrew a piece of worn and creased paper from her pocket. On it was the name of one of the buildings, as well as a number, 312: the number of the classroom. Azilis glanced around the campus of the University until she caught sight of the correct building and scurried toward it, eager to be out of the damp. It was a building she recognized; her father's office had been here too, when he had worked at the University. As she made her way up the flights of stairs to the correct floor, her mind wandered to the course itself. She did not know who taught Auristics now, whether it was Professor Stonemiller himself or a professor she had not yet met. Curiosity made her steps faster and her eyes sharper as she tried to find the right room. 309, 310, 311...Ah, there it was, 312. The numbers were made of heavy bronze and winked in the light thrown off by the blue magelights that lit much of the University. Tentatively, she raised her fist to the door and tapped once, twice, three times. She tried to focus her auristic vision through the door, attempting to See if there was anybody in the room beyond. Azilis could detect a shadowy aura surging somewhere in the room, but she was not yet skilled enough to ascertain any specific characteristics about it through something as thick as a door. So she waited for her knocks to be answered, tugging absently at a lock of damp red hair. |