[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/X9wM8k0.jpg[/img]
[h1][color=dodgerblue]Emerson L. Pèlerin[/color][/h1]
[h2]"[color=dodgerblue]The Prodigy[/color]"[/h2][/center]
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[i][color=dodgerblue]I don't belong here.[/color][/i]

It was a thought that had been creeping into Emerson's head more and more often as she made her way across the countryside of Lancelot's domain. As someone who had grown up on the other side of the border, he'd always had an outsider's view of the evil domain. Sure, whispers and rumors spoke of what lurked in the shadows of this land, but it was somehow... distant. Now though The Prodigy caught glimpses of evil shapes across the landscape, hiding in the crags of mountains, scurrying through the trees. Still, none bothered him during her journey, almost as if Lancelot had demanded personally that she reached her destination unharmed.

Whatever the case was, it made for an uneasy trip. For the majority of it Emerson tried to float at a running pace, spending her time both taking in the sights of her new home, and imbuing the outfit he had chosen as her uniform (If indeed Lancelot himself chose not to provide one, which would be disappointing) with some minor magic. A slow process, having to go through every single thread and enchant them individually, but one that the mage had two whole days to spend it on. 

When the uniform was finished though Emerson realized she was taking far too much time with the adventure, and that Moonlake Keep was a [i]much[/i] greater distance from the border than he had first realized. For the last half a day, once every hour, the countryside echoed faintly with a cry of “Seeya Joe, gotta go!” as the Prodigy zipped for miles across the landscape at a time. The final one had brought Emerson through the room's giant window, unnoticed as Lancelot commanded the attention of all gathered.

He lay collapsed against the wall, struggling not to pass out from exhaustion as their new leader introduced himself- the mage having not missed much of the meeting at all. Still, while Lancelot commanded an impressive presence, The Prodigy couldn't help but look across the room from his vantage point and look over his new peers.

[i][color=dodgerblue]I don't belong here.[/color][/i]

Emerson felt more like a sheep among wolves than one of the most powerful mages currently living. Some of those present were quite clearly monsters, and others certainly gave off the presence of being such under their armor and clothing. She was not completely foreign to the concept of course, being one dedicated to the magical arts, but personal experience with anything other than Humans was something he distinctly lacked.

[color=dodgerblue][i]These are my peers now.[/i][/color]

It was that thought which settled the mental debate over Emerson's current situation. They [i]were[/i] his peers, and that meant Lancelot considered him to at least be equal to them. With strength slowly returning to her limbs she quietly listened to their leader finish speaking, and at his departure struggled to stand. 

She didn't quite manage it.

With a small sigh Emerson contented to watching his fellow knights for a few minutes more. The initial horror she had felt was slowly giving way to curiosity as she observed them, and was especially piqued by the half-dragon and Camilla. There was [i]certainly[/i] magic at work there, and not the kind Emerson had much knowledge with. Other than the spell he had prepared especially for Aurelius, The Prodigy shied away from magics directly affecting the body. The experimentation process was simply too messy, and unreliable without test subjects. While he was sure that many of his peers in this room wouldn't have any qualms about experimenting on living things, torture was not something that appealed to Emerson. 

Pushing those grim thoughts out of her head, she tried to stand once more- with far more success. Wishing that he had decided to wear the uniform that had been prepared on the road- instead being garbed in a simple shirt and pants that was common fashion among the middle classes of Nell Egg- and that she had chosen a more dignified color than pink for her hair that morning, Emerson finally made her way down the stairs and to the table in the center of the room. Acting as casually as possible she put together a light meal to quell the appetite she had worked up on the road, and battled an urge to socialize with a desire to be ignored entirely by the monsters around him.