Hazumi’s steps were light as she walked along the main hallway, occasionally stepping to the side or skipping in sync with the music she could vaguely hear from the Ballroom. She didn’t recognise the song until she was almost inside. [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkAOasSJro0]‘Love like this’[/url] was what the children were settled on at the moment and the sea of instruments were barely containing themselves in a single rhythm, vocals and laughs and shouts all booming alongside each other in the sea of sound. A suitable choice, Hazumi decided with a chuckle, though she always mistook the lyrics and replaced ‘love’ with ‘life’. 

The woman sung along and spun around happily as the chorus erupted. Another verse, another few dancing steps and she noticed an unfamiliar face right at the entrance. Quickly adjusting her walk back to normal, Hazumi ran a hand across her long hair and shook off the sparkles, remaining on her hand. Along with it she was shedding her silly and childlike demeanor, leaving a more mature and feminine one. She’d gotten rid of the essence flowers, blooming behind her heels and the butterflies around her in order to look much more modest, if still beautiful. The frost-like shimmer in her hair and on her skin remained, as that could never be contained.

“Master Lazarus,” she guessed, choosing to address him by his alias, guessing that he’d appreciate it better. “I am happy to see you have made it. I will make sure to alert the staff of your arrival and someone should be here to receive promptly. Please, make yourself at home.” She said with a curtsy and excused herself. Something had caught her eye and it wasn’t either of the creatures hanging around the man, nor the peculiar girl – Mary, who she had to engage with soon enough. 

It was one of her students whose aura signaled distress. And not only. It wasn’t only his aura. The boy’s essence seemed weak in comparison to his Instrument’s. Something that shouldn’t be happening. With an ever-present smile, Hazumi approached said student and his companion.

“Master Saerne,” she gave the man a polite and friendly nod, “and Ian Snyder. I see you are experiencing a slight discomfort at the moment.” She smiled reassuringly, squatting down to Ian’s level and placing a hand on his. Perhaps it was an attempt to comfort him. Perhaps it was something else. “May I ask what’s going on?”