Deep in the office a groan could be heard. Soon after there was a crashing, then another groan. Before long a light smacking sound could be heard before the door handle let out a loud "Chak" noise. An annoyed squeak was heard before another loud "chak", then another, until finally a third "clack" noise had the door slowly creak open and a little elderly otter in a small bowtie and little reading glasses stuck out his tiny head and gave a two note squeak that sounded very similar to a "Hello?"

[color=fff79a]“Uhm…h-hi?”[/color] Isil looked down at the small otter, once again not too impressed with the general atmosphere and care the staff here had showed so far. An otter of all things! As cute and adorable as they were, you did not have a cute otter come and wait on you and take care of your important business! Incompetent didn’t even begin to describe it. The elf cleared her throat before continuing. [color=fff79a]“You…are certainly not the headmistress.”[/color] Isil straightened her posture, exhaling in mild impatience. [color=fff79a]“Is the headmistress in? I would like to speak with her about my class assignments.”[/color]

The otter squeaked positively and gave a little paw wave to follow him. He led the elf into the office, still littered by papers everywhere covering bookshelves and glorious artifacts that would be impressive... If you could see it. The windows gave a wonderful view of the open sea, spanning the whole back wall of the room. There was a woman laying on the desk right in front of the window, small trinkets that looked unimpressive yet unusual littered the left side next to a small painting of a small girl and a kindly old man that could be recognized as the same an in the painting in the foyer. The otter approached the desk and gave a squeak. [color=f7941d]"What is it Jonathan?"[/color] The otter gave another small squeak. [color=f7941d]"What?"[/color] The otter responded with another brief chirp. The woman shot her head off the desk and looked at the elf girl, quickly giving a panicked flick of her finger and swiftly the papers all organized themselves in a maelstrom that made the room instantaneously clean again as if they were never there to begin with. The only sign of the mess left as the brief rattling of tea cups to their right and the now swinging metal balls clacking in the front of her desk. [color=f7941d]"[i]Ahem[/i]"[/color] The head mistress sat up in her chair, her hair now done up proper though her eyes were still showed signs of exhaustion. [color=f7941d]"Please have a seat young Ms.Mornelis. Jonathan, the tea if you will."[/color] Her voice was gentle and collected.

Whatever she had been expecting, was once again completely shattered by the disorganized appearance of the room. Granted, she could understand getting a little carried away in one’s work and making a mess of things but you should never leave a mess behind. That was just…poor manners. Huh, at least the view was nice. Especially that window with a rather fantastic view of the ocean. For a very brief second, she wondered what It’d be like to sit in the chair herself, but dismissed the thought when she saw Lady Miatri passed out at her desk.

At least she could clean it up quickly.

[color=fff79a]“Mhm…that shan’t be necessary. I will try not to be long and I prefer to stand, but thank you regardless.”[/color] Unlike Miatri’s own voice, the young Elf’s own voice was much sterner and carried a hint of annoyance in it. [color=fff79a]“Restoration Classes.”[/color] The elf began, frowning. [color=fff79a]“I would assume you know I almost have zero skill in the restorative arts, as well as no desire to actually learn them. I request to be moved to a more suitable class at once.”[/color] Isil would at least attempt to be civil and not let her own temper and annoyance get the best of her…for now.

[color=f7941d]"Well. Just for me then Jonathan."[/color] The otter was already half way done pouring the second cup and looked at the headmistress as she spoke, lowering his head in disappointment when she addressed him a second time. [color=f7941d]"Well that can't be right, all high elves are naturally gifted to [i]some[/i] degree in the restoration arts."[/color] She raised her hand and it began to glow a gentle [color=fff200]gold[/color] color. [color=f7941d]"Even someone with diluted blood like myself."[/color] The otter brought over her tea, and she took it with a slight bow in thanks. She took a long drink, and then spoke again. [color=f7941d]"But if that is so... It cannot be undone easily now."[/color]

The elf frowned.

[color=fff79a]“What exactly do you mean it cannot be easily undone?”[/color] She questioned, eyes narrowing slightly. [color=fff79a]“I am quite aware of my people’s natural tendency for Restorative arts. It comes naturally to us no matter our origins.”[/color] There was a definite hint of disgust in her tone. [color=fff79a]“However, if it were those arts I wanted to learn, I would have stayed in Bistrial.”[/color]

[color=f7941d]"Is that so? From my sources it was [i]my[/i] understanding that you were incredibly discredited in Bistrial for, shall we say,
 less than agreeable opinions."[/color] The headmistress took a long drink from her tea.
 
 [color=fff79a]“My history and the blindness of my kin are completely irrelevant!”[/color] The elf harshly replied, perhaps a bit too defensively as she motioned with an arm. Of course she’d know. There was really no way she wouldn’t know, was there, but she shouldn't let herself get so defensive about it.  [color=fff79a]“[i]Ahem[/i]”[/color] She took a brief second to collect herself. [color=fff79a]“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any less from someone in your position.”[/color]

[color=f7941d]"'The blindness of my kin'..."[/color] Her tone was suddenly sharper, more judgmental as she leaned back in her chair with her tea, crossing her legs. [color=f7941d]"You certainly have a specific... View. Don't you? I may have been correct to think that some time with Master  Liyva would do you good..."[/color] Her face lost all sense of warmth, beginning to feel there was something a bit more self serving in her intentions. [color=f7941d]"I agree there may be a lack of open mindedness in the leadership of Bistrial, but I do not think that you should dismiss your own kind's historical standings so lightly. There may be hidden reason in their views little elfling."[/color]

[color=fff79a]“And what historical standings are those?”[/color] Isil scoffed. [color=fff79a]“Sitting on their own passivity and weakness?”[/color] She leaned over, resting her hands on the headmistress’ desk. [color=fff79a]“I fail to see what reasoning of theirs can conclude that they not help others when they can except their own cowardice. If one could bring peace or help to another, then they should.”[/color] The elf fixed the headmistress with a stern gaze before shaking her head. None of this mattered, and she didn’t want to linger on any topic dealing with Bistrial or her own history.

[color=fff79a]“Tsk, we’re getting off subject. I take it I will be unable to convince you to change my classes?”[/color]

The Headmistress let out a deep sigh as a small porcelain clak came from her cup meeting it's saucer. [color=f7941d]"It's not that I'm not willing to change the subject of your study to fit your needs, but rather that it simply cannot be done so easily. The assigned students are distributed in such a way that the teachers will not be overwhelmed by the amount of students they have. As you know the Arcanium teaches hundreds of students, and lectures are open to anyone that wishes to go to them. To focus on individual students for evaluation and independent subject mastery is incredibly arduous efforts. Having even one extra student in their class means far too much attention than the teachers can pay to others taken away from the ones already there."[/color] She handed off her cup to the Otter assistant and he handed her a new cup, she stirred the cup carefully and reflected on the situation.

Isil frowned. She could understand that reasoning at least – even so, it was ridiculous to her. At least, shouldn’t the students be able to choose their own fields of study then, instead of having them told what they were going to be put in?

[color=fff79a]“I see.”[/color] Isil replied, straightening her posture. [color=fff79a]“I can understand that logic. It prevents things from getting over-crowded and eases the workload among the individual instructor. Then let me ask a question. Would it not be better for the student to choose the field of study as well as the master, then?”[/color] Isil fixed the headmistress with an inquisitive look as she folded her arms across her chest, lightly tapping the side of her arm with a finger. 

The Headmistress gave a casual hrm noise as she shook her head slightly. [color=f7941d]"You really [i]didn't[/i] learn anything in Bistrial did you? The world isn't a simple place little elfling. Conflicts arise, people hold hatred in their hearts, and while the Teachers here at the school are individuals sworn to the preservation and expansion of knowledge there are [b][i]some[/i][/b] who might hold more radical views."[/color] Her gaze drifted onto Isil for a moment then turned back to her tea. [color=f7941d]"These individuals may cause quarrels with their beliefs as a rationale to justify their actions or words. As you may come to understand, this can cause more than a few problems for all of us."[/color] The Headmistress put down her cup and drifted her hand over to the metal ball swing, still tapping back and forth through the conversation only to stop it before returning to a elbow supported resting position so she may place her chin on her hands. Her robes dropped down on the surface of her desk and settled around her elbows revealing her tender pale arms with a few aged scars. Her hands had a decent few as well, momentous from a her adventuring days. [color=f7941d]"Naturally you could understand that we'd want to avoid these potentially hectic scenarios. So we place the students in the classes that cover their stated interests on their [i][b]application[/b][/i].[/color] The headmistress lifted her hand and a sheet shot out of one of her organization cabinets and into her hand. It was clearly Isil's application.

[color=fff79a]“What could I have learned?”[/color] Isil replied with a frown. [color=fff79a]“That my fellow elves have an irrational dislike for dark elves as well as are so unconcerned with the world outside the isles they blind themselves to it? And any young elf who dares speak out about it are basically laughed out of their respective fields if they open a serious discussion?”[/color] It was easy enough to realize what the headmistress was speaking of with that comment about racial identities. She herself had no dislike for any race – as long as they were useful or skilled…there was no reason to hate one based on what they were. That was ridiculous. She glanced over at the application the headmistress presented her. Of course, it said ‘Restoration’ written on it. She sighed, shifting her hands to her hips again. 

[color=fff79a]“Perhaps I should have written Alteration instead.”[/color] Truthfully, she could only blame herself for this little…mishap. Realistically speaking? Compared to most people at the Arcanium she only had gained an interest in magic in the past year or two and still had quite a bit to learn regarding what magic fell under what school. She liked to think she was skilled in the actual application of it, but even so, she was no expert [color=fff79a]“Mhm. Then there is nothing to be done? I must shift my own personal focus with that of another set of skill and hamper my own progress – need I say that is already slowed by my own heritage?”[/color]

The head mistress let out a long sigh, dealing with young elves was always so difficult... She laid the paper on the desk and spoke softly to herself. [color=f7941d]"You are so misguided young one..."[/color] She looked up to her and spoke to her once again. [color=f7941d]"If it bothers you so much, there is something that can be done. If you find a new master that has open spaces to teach you, or if you can find a student willing to switch with you then you may exchange your class."[/color] She turned the chair to face the right, recrossing her legs and picking her tea up once again.

[color=fff79a]“Mis…guided?”[/color] Isil narrowed her eyes at the headmistress. [color=fff79a]“…I am not sure what you mean by that, but I doubt I would agree.”[/color] If it was as simple as finding someone to switch with her, then it’d be easy. Kyvir. She could just order him to change their classes. That said…that would require a bit of thought to go through with. Kyvir would undoubtedly be exceptionally skilled with destructive arts. He already had some training with them, at least.

[color=fff79a]“But…very well, I will take this into consideration.”[/color]

The head mistress turned and faced the windows and spoke without looking at the young elf, [color=f7941d]"Is that all you needed Ms.Mornelis?"[/color]

[color=fff79a]“Mhm.”[/color] She sighed. [color=fff79a]“Yes that will be all, Headmistress. Thank you for the consideration.”[/color] With a polite bow, Isil left the headmistress’ office. She hadn’t gotten what she wanted exactly, but she was used to working for her goals. This would be no different. She would need a bit of time to consider her options, but switching with Kyvir would be the easiest…

As the elfling left her office she waved her hand over a small square scrap of paper. It twitched with a blue aura for a moment, and then began to move sharply into folded shapes eventually forming a small paper beetle. [color=f7941d]"Keep an eye on her, take note of every book she reads here at the Library."[/color] The beetle flew it's way to the entrance of the room and crawled under the door. The headmistress let out a long exhausted sigh and sank into her chair, the Otter let out a small questioning squeak tone. The headmistress shook her head and placed her fingers on her temples. [color=f7941d]"She shows such promise... I hope it won't have to come to that..."[/color] She began to recline back into her chair as Jonathan began to squeak a reply, only to find that half way into his prolonged ottery wisdom she had drifted off into sleep. The otter looked at her for a moment, his whiskers twitching in contemplation of what had just transpired. He drew the curtains to keep the sun off his friend, and diligently he began to pick up her used cup that was now growing cold in it's prolonged abandonment.