Closed [Scholar's Asylum] A Game of Woes (Altaira)

[Perplexity]

42nd of Fall, 514 AV

Mid-Morning

Bethany sat quietly within her office reviewing one of the more recent case files brought to her attention. Suffice it to say she wasn’t in the least bit impressed with what she was reading if the frown on her face was anything to judge by. One of elegant hands picked up a teacup from its saucer. She brought it to her lips sipping thoughtfully as her eyes roamed the page. During her time as the Warden of the Scholar’s Asylum she had seen a number of people come and go. She had seen budding minds warped into horrific madmen. She had seen the seemingly mundane become wise and powerful scholars. All who came to her office held an innate potential and it was her job to dissect all of them with little more than a convincing smile and a few well-placed words.

If there was one path of magic that she found unnerving though it was Spiritism. The ethereal and ritualistic ways of the world magic devoted to the dead was chilling to say the least. Its practitioners were often touched by death in some way shape or form. She often found them morose, generally creepy and unpleasant which was far from the image that the College sought to display to the public. With a sigh she set down the missive placing the teacup back upon its saucer. Rubbing her temples she folded her hands together considering how she was going to approach the upcoming interview. She was not hopeful. There had been so few worthy candidates in the past few seasons that she was beginning to wonder if the College of Djed would survive the winter.

There came a knocking at her door.

“Come in.” Her voice was gentle and inviting. It was indeed always best to exhibit a sweet disposition when dealing with those who bear the potential to be deranged. Wizards were a dangerous bunch. They could be smiles one moment and stark raving mad the very next. She would know. Such an event had happened to her. The event had changed her but she was careful with how that change affected her work. When the door opened she gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

“Please, have a seat.” Placing her hands upon the surface of her desk, Bethany observed the individual in front of her. Her green eyes were sharp, keen, observant and for the most part welcoming but there lurked a cunning in them. Already Bethany was searching for perceived weaknesses. The College was no place for the weak but that didn’t mean they were any less useful.

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[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

One bonus the kelvic woman had found to the restriction of a tight budget was how her tastes were wearing. Her pride in mere appearances alone had been in sharp decline since the event of her marking, though she still drank compliments with a fierce thirst for the short time that followed, with her line of work at the time allowing for enough coin to spend and splurge on the finer things that struck her fancy, her clothing itself at the time little more than simple shoes and a rather plain, dyed green dress.

It was the shifting seasons and the time she'd spent tied in study and learning in the Purple Forest that had done the bulk of beating her pride out of her - her lack of skill and talent in those which were quite clearly crucial to her Lady's work pressing the woman for an almost dire need to further and better herself. She'd learnt not to take pride in the mere taking down of a handful of Dira Forsaken nuit scum, for in the presence of one whose age and life lived could have measured in the centuries - her achievements were nothing. She was nothing.

"Left? Or right?"

The words spilled from her lips as a soft and solemn hum, Altaira's golden eyes sharp on the walls and doors as she worked her memory. She was foreign to the ways of applications and interview, her life thus far dedicated to work and practice, with formal teaching of any sort quite simply alien in all respects. When her gaze hit the door her memory snapped into working, her breath quickening and pace increasing before she found herself firmly planted in front of the desired door.

She gave herself the shortest moments to bade her beating heart to calm and her breath to deepen, before she gave three solid knocks to the door, the few ticks passing like chimes before she heard a voice from deep within, and her body jolted before she reached for the handle and made her way inside.

Before she could say a word herself, there was a gesture to a seat and the kelvic took little hesitation in acknowledging it, giving a polite nod to the red haired woman before giving a short, sweeping look about the room and finding the seat offered. "Thank you," she ventured, quite entirely unsure as to how to respond in such a situation.

"My name is Altaira," there was an obvious effort to her words, strong and clear though not entirely certain of the situation, "And you are?- forgive my lack of experience in situations such as this."

Whether the kelvic was 'accepted' or not - she'd still find a way to learn all that was required.

[Perplexity]

“Yes, I know who you are Ms. Readva.” Bethan smiled at Altaira. It was charming, full of inviting warmth and delightful openness. Something about it wasn’t quite sincere but it was no less welcoming.

“I am Bethany Loris, Warden of the Asylum and Evaluator for the College of Djed. The file that was forwarded to my office says that you are interested in studying Spiritism? An interesting choice for a young woman such as yourself.” Bethany gave Altaira an appraising look. The examination had begun the moment the woman had walked into the room whether she realized it or not. Every twitch, every movement that Altaira made, from the slightest shifting in her seat to the manner in which she carried herself was being watched. It was obvious that Bethany knew what she was doing. For some her gaze might have been uncomfortable in its intensity.

On a deeper level Bethany received a level of satisfaction from that. She enjoyed the game of making others fidget. There were those who found her scrutiny to be a challenge. Those were always the fun ones. More often than not they proved to yield the most interesting conversations because of their unwillingness to accept that they were not in a position of authority. No, in the confines of that office the only authority was Bethany’s. She decided who entered the College. She decided whether these backwater hedge wizards were free to study in the astute halls of the University. This was her realm. It was her game.

But every now and then she ran into the unique individual who changed up the rules. She wondered if Altaira would be such a person. The Hypnotist didn’t yet feel the need to nudge Altaira with her powers but time would tell.

“What is it about Spiritism that catches your attention? What are you hoping to achieve with it? To what end?” As she asked her questions Bethan took up a piece of parchment and a quill pen. She dipped it into an inkwell then prepared to scribble down notes on her assessment of the woman.

NoteShorter post but I didn't want to ask too many questions without giving you the opportunity to respond.
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[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

'Ms Readva.'

The use of her mother's the name sent a shiver down her spine.

It was a name she took for clarity- one to honour the dead and live on in their name, and to make the assimilation into such a cut and dry city as Syliras with greater ease. 'Just Altaira' was a way that would set herself up for scrutiny; the more human the name, the less prejudice she'd been hit with. But for the life of her, she couldn't recall a single occasion prior where it was only that it was only the placeholder of a name that was used to address her. It almost made her regret bringing it to Zeltiva.

If there was nothing else to comfort her, there was the charming smile and shifting of the woman - Bethany - before her. With a sharp gaze not unlike her own, and smile that was worn and self-serving, there was almost a calm of familiarity that took hold. A certain squire who'd given her Hai in her first days of living in Syliras ensured that she'd never endure a more painful social intercourse or assessment of person, and though the stakes were higher in terms of best interest, she acknowledged that there was no threat of incarceration, and she'd learned her lesson of not attempting to play a game she knew she was in no place to win. At least, she was not from what she knew.

Thoughts and wonderings were quickly cut, the ginger haired woman then bringing up a point to which Altaira could do little more than raise an eyebrow. 'What is so strange of it?' It was a thought that'd never crossed her mind- it was a need, not a choice or half hearted endeavor. When she'd come face to face with those who outranked her, she did nothing to question their methods, knowing their age and experience so far more advanced than her own she could not fathom it. If a Priest of Dira and a woman who ferried the dead for her life and living believed spiritism to be essential in the work of her Lady, then spiritism she would learn. There was no room for question, nor any for doubt.

'An interesting choice had I not given myself to My Lady Dira.'

By the time she'd settled, a more angled question was asked, one she knew was targeted enough to warrant full answer, though her mouth set agape for the briefest of moments all thoughts and experiences rushed to mind. "Big question," she said, working her shoulders and neck as she sought a proper place to begin.

Several ticks passed, before she settled and cleared her throat, giving an apologetic glance to the woman before she began. "Spiritism is not one thing among many I could have chosen from," her words were slow and measured, though her gaze itself did not leave Bethany's. "It is not," she gaze a look of disgust, "Some half hearted interest or enthusiasm. I've not merely met a ghost and decided that I'd let mere curiosity have me."

She gave a moment as thoughts shot back to Shiyami. It was true indeed that he'd had a part in her awakening to the awe and majesty of Dira - but it was a growth she did not doubt would have been stimulated elsewhere, had not it occurred then and there. "Spiritsm is a need. My duty. Part of my charge as a servant of Goddess Dira."

Altaira shifted in her chair to a position higher, with a straightened back and head held high, her gaze even with the woman before her. She was a representative of Dira, she'd not let any misconduct on her own behalf smear her Goddess' name, though she ensured not to allow her height or gaze reach such a level that she spoke to Bethany as anything less than equal- if even so low. "I wish to improve- safely. I've learnt little from others. Basics." It was becoming easier to speak with every word, devotion and dedication to Dira moving her. "But I hear you teach things you cannot learn by watching or listening or doing."

She pressed her lips as she recalled what else was asked, working her memory as she wading through her own pious words. "The end I wish is that I may continue to serve Dira and learn the ways of Spiritism in a way that does not hinder my task, or hurt those I wish to help. I've heard horror stories of possession, brothers and sisters of mine who've died before their duty was complete, and those else who suffered in consequence." She paused, and licked her lips, her tone taking such defiance and authority it almost surprised herself. "I will not be one of them."

After her spiel of duty and honour and all her devotion to her Goddess- the kelvic felt the need to blink thrice and roll her shoulders loose once more, her own winsome little smile taking to her features. "I hope I've answered your questions," the look she gave was almost eager, the woman passing up no chance to speak of the righteousness of her Goddess Dira and the work she was given. To her, there was no more noble a goal than the aiding of lost souls find peace and Dira, and the ridding the world of the vile rot that were the returned Nuit scum.

[Perplexity]

42nd of Fall, 514 AV

“My, my, my, such an eloquent speaker. Having a way with words will serve you quite well here at the College.” Bethany allowed a false chuckle to escape her throat. In her years as the evaluator for the College she had seen all number of people who could speak quite finely. To say that she wasn’t impressed would be an understatement. The red haired woman had to suppress the urge to scoff at the mention of the Goddess of Death.

“You wouldn’t be the first to profess themselves as a servant to the Grim Lady to walk these halls. I doubt you’ll be the last. You say that you have been taught some “basics”?” Bethany’s voice crept upward in pitch.

“What are these basics? Where did you learn them? Who taught them to you?” Another occurrence that wasn’t at all rare. Bethany had seen hedge mage after hedge mage creep up from the dregs of society doing their very best to claw their way into one of the finest institutions in the world. She had turned just as many away. More often than not these self-taught wizards had a very poor grasp on the fundamentals of magic and its use. They treated it as an abstract mystical force when the reality was that magic was the product of careful study, science and research. In her clinical mind, Bethany often looked down upon these unrefined practitioners.

“What is it that you believe you can achieve with Spiritism? More than just duty to your goddess, as you claim, what do you actually intend to do with it? Do you even know anything about it?” Bethany’s tone wasn’t unpleasant but it was perhaps the phrasing of her words that would tell Altaira she didn’t have high hopes for the girl. Truthfully, of those who came to study the Discipline of the Dead, Bethany had found that most of them hadn’t the foggiest of what the world magic could actually do or what was involved in its application. Most, if not all of them, believed that it would suddenly grant them unquestionable power over the dead and dying which couldn’t have been further from the truth. If the Evaluator of the College got even the slightest hint of such notions of grandeur from Altaira, well, they would not be points in the girl’s favor.

“On another note, what exactly have you heard about the College? Do elaborate for me what they say about us in the far parts of the world.” She had heard it all, really. It was still amusing to listen to the stories though. Every now and then she heard something noteworthy to add to her repertoire of jokes.

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[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Scorn was always unpleasant, though it gave peace of mind to the woman the fact that all were equal, in part, in death. Dira would not place one on a pedestal above another, arrogant in life or not. She shortly wondered as to whether or not more time and care to the manners of word and wit would serve her, and her head tilted slightly as she considered such effort. Surely her Lady would not give a single thought or care to honeyed words and false pretences?- And it was not as though the kelvic took any care to hide her will and duty.

The woman did not seem to be the slightest bit pleased to learn of Altaira's hedge knowledge, and she took such annoyances as heavily as she could care to. "Calidus and Whisper, as well as the writings of the Lavender Ruins," she said, a tinge of disdain for the woman beginning to take hold, as she pressed her lips and sought the proper place where in to begin. "Whisper intended to teach me naught - she is the Spiritist of Syliras, one who keeps close company of a ghost, and from her I learnt more so by watching one learned and dignified in act."

She rolled her shoulders as she gauged the woman's eyes, was it a name that rung familiar, or not one at all? "I aided her in a certain nuit infestation some seasons ago- understanding of soul darts, ghost beads, and safe zones, soon joined my own repertoire." she was not quite sure what and where she was taking her words, and quite shortly returned to words of her senior. "Calidus is a brother in arms - a priest of Goddess Dira."

Her mind slipped to her time in the Purple Forest, and she shortly brought forward such teachings. "From him, how soul mist is formed from a dough of the mixing of a vial of blood, and three ingredients of different sources. I was pressed to greater my skills in mediation to aid in both the forming of soul mist and the baring of possession, to ensure that I studied with clarity. He taught me that the world magic of spiritism is not one to take lightly, nor any magic for that matter - that there is a certain form of finer and higher learning that must be studied, and that some of the talents used to combat ghosts will extend to ethereal undead themselves once your study has reached a level such as his own."

"I've learned that its an ancient art, and one of great solidarity, more akin to shamanism than another alike from the writings and notes that are perhaps too many in the Lavender Ruins." As she concluded her words, she thought perhaps that she should have given greater note to the places and persons of interest, and perhaps less on the small writings.

When words once more circled to her own reasons for the study of the art, removed from that of Dira herself, the kelvic could scarcely help short survey of the room as she mulled her words. "I believe that I can give greater aid through the studying of spiritism, and invite enlightenment into the life that is my own. Too many people fear death and lust for a life that is not theirs to live - I am unable by spirit to understand such folly - but in learning spiritism I yearn to come closer to such a revelation. I want to know why it is so many fear Dira, and walk by those who have wandered from My Lady as they embrace that life is precious because it must come to an end, to help them see the necessity of passing on, and return them to Dira's side, so she may guide them to their rightful place in peace. There is nothing quite so sorrowful as a soul that is lost and sick, and nothing so pitiful as one driven mad. Spiritism will allow me to reason with ghosts in a way that is otherwise impossible- to learn of why they chose to break from the cycle and then assess which manner it is that will suit best their returning."

She wet her lips and rolled her shoulders once more - she was so awfully tight and awkward and the words that ran from her lips seemed as though they would never end. "I've never done things by halves," her tone fell to a far quieter hum. "And I've no intent of beginning to do so now. From spiritism- it is the ability to do what I cannot without, and the wisdom inherent that I seek."

When the question came to what the woman had heard of the college in places oh so far, a simple eyebrow was raised. "I do not recall any mention of the College in my birth place of Avanthal - we heard more of The Magic Towers of Lhavit, far closer as they were - though there was more mention of it in Syliras. What was heard explicitly in both cases was quite simply the truth, that the teachings of magic in a proper institution came with far finer learning and higher regard than that from mere books and streets." The woman fought the urge to shrug, she could understand the pride, she supposed. But it was the tone that set the question sound strange.

OOC :

So sorry for the lateness of my reply, I've been hoping to get some of the older threads and a quest (mostly the quest) cleared so I can more accurately answer the questions given, but I am going to have to just assume the knowledge awarded.

The fact that I am terrified of Alta possibly being rejected helped naught. >.>

[Perplexity]

Bethany considered the young woman’s words carefully. She had to admit that she was impressed. Her sole purpose was to scrutinize the intentions of those who came into her office. Altaira presented herself as a clear and concise professional. While Bethany might have said that the finer points of her education were lacking and perhaps her religious zeal might be a concern, she could not argue that the girl’s reasoning was sound. The evaluator picked up a quill pen dipping it in ink. She gave a firm nod.

“Ms. Readva, I must say that you display a remarkable capacity to impress upon another your willingness to learn. But I must be frank, as is my purpose.” The Warden of the Asylum began writing down several notes on the sheet of parchment in front of her. As she wrote, she spoke without looking up from the paper.

“You have in you a kernel for endless amounts of compassion. Magic is not compassionate. Indeed it is neither cruel nor compassionate. It is a tool that is to be used for the betterment of society, which is your intention. It is a science that is to be as much practiced as it is studied. I see in you the potential to become lost in your own ideals.” She glanced up from her writing giving the young woman a once over. Bethany had seen men and women with very pure intentions plunge themselves down very dark and terrible roads. Many of those same individuals were confined to the deepest sections of the asylum undergoing the heaviest of therapy.

“I also see in you a hunger for knowledge. Do not let that appetite become insatiable. There is a difference between a wiseman and fool who pines after unanswerable obscurities.” She finished writing her notes before taking out a bar of wax. She held the wax over a candle allowing a few drops to fall upon the bottom of the parchment. Bethan then pressed the seal of a ring on her finger into the wax until it cooled before accompanying it with her signature. Rising from her desk she extended a hand to Altaira.

“Welcome to the College. May your studies be true. May your answers be found.”
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[Altaira Readva]

Bird Speak | Common | Vani | Others

Altaira steeled her face and form as the woman appeared to be drawing a close to the so called university psychological evaluation. She bade her heart and breathing to slow as pressed further trust in herself and her dedication, the slightest falter quite possibly costing her all of the ground work that she had just finally laid.

The first few words spread joy and eagerness through her, she was hopeful and settled on the brink of excitement. Then Bethany made what could only be described as an ambiguous statement, and the kelvic froze near shock still. It was such a bittersweet trail of words that she'd said, and Altaira was bitter herself for being almost led on. She gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, for she was at least true to her words, though was quite unprepared for the words that followed.

Compassion, tools, potential, ideals.

Insatiable appetites, fools and wisewomen.

The string of compliments and warnings and fair points were difficult to be taken in a single swallow, and the eiyon did her due best to take each shred of advice as though she did not take personal offence. 'By Dira, I should not think myself a perfect being. I have faults and flaws - and by you I shall grow and learn. I will heed the warnings given, and I will heed them well.'

Then, relief broke, and a breath of pure delight rolled from her lungs, pressing her lips tightly as she barred a smile from painting her expression. It took her a moment to quite properly comprehend the parchment extended to her, though once she did, she did all in her will to recover.

Her own standing from her chair was as dignified as she could make it, giving a slight bow to the woman as the piece was taken. "Thank you- I will heed your words.

[Perplexity]

You have played well, but the game is at an end.

You have been bested. Beaten. Checkmate!

However, here is a consolation prize: a wealth of Experience and Lores! If you have any questions or concerns regarding this grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. I'll be more than happy to assist you!

 

Altaira

XP

• Rhetoric | +1 EXP
  Persuasion | +2 EXP
  Storytelling | +1 EXP
  Socialization | +1 EXP

LORES

• Bethany Loris: Warden of the Scholar’s Asylum

MISCELLANEOUS

• You have been admitted to the College of Djed as of Fall 514. In order to continue eligibility for formal lessons under the tutelage of a Zeltivan wizard associated with the University, you cannot leave Zeltiva until the conclusion of your education. Should you leave Zeltiva, for any reason, your enrollment as a student in the magical arts at the University will be terminated and you will not be allowed to re-enroll in a formal capacity. For questions and concerns contact me directly.

Until Our Next Match,
-Perplexity, DS of Zeltiva
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