[center][color=red]The Archives, Red Seminary catacombs, Magnagrad[/color][/center][hr] [center][sub][written by Lovejoy & Scout][/sub][/center] Viveca's gloved hand gently caressed each spine as she read each title of the books she was surverying. Now that she was an Inquisitor, she could actually explore the vast network of archives, absolutely forbidden to pupils, beneath the Red Seminary. Nobody knew she was here, but so long as she was on time for the Steam Ark, there would be no problems. If only she had more time before her first mission, she could live down here for years. Maybe the church still had books on the older civilizations, before the Ravenous Lord swallowed them. But tonight was not the night to sate her curiosity for a history she might never get to see again. No, tonight she had questions that needed answering and she dare not go asking her fellow Inquisitors. Viveca closed her eyes. She could still see it. Feel it. The vision. When the aspect spirit of Varya known as X-XIX touched her, it was as if her soul had been taken somewhere far away. She was floating on a boundless blue ocean. The waves carried her gently as radiant white birds soared through the endless blue expanse above her. White clouds slowly trailed across it, casting soft shadows on the gentle waves below. She felt... something. A pleasant warmness touching her skin. She saw a halo of light shining down at her from high above but had to turn away when its radiance began to blind her. She marveled at it with squinting eyes, for she had never seen the sun as it wa. All her life she could only glimpse its vague presence shrouded behind the white Varyan sky. But in this place it had revealed itself, shining down proudly upon the world in all its splendor. There, in that impossible ocean, where the frost that had imprisoned her world was nonexistent, she felt at peace. There was nothing but her, the sea and the birds. It was then that she noticed it. An ornate blue circle on her chest. It seemed to be branded directly onto her skin, and when she traced her fingertips across it she could feel the strange brand growing frigid within her chest. It was as if someone had suddenly filled her heart with ice. Viveca began to cough. Frigid air escaped her lungs. There was something in her, something cold that was spreading to every inch of her body. She was still shivering when she opened her eyes. She still felt it. The cold unlike any other. Viveca had been three days into her expedition into the archives and still couldn't find a sign of a single book that could tell her what this vision was about. She had packed few supplies and was growing hungry, but it was hardly anything like her trials as a pupil in the Seminary, where during the milestones they had gone weeks with little food, water, or sleep. She could get plenty of sleep here in the library, but her eyes were a little over-adjusted to the darkness by now. Thanks to her power, however, she had a more or less natural light under her control. In the last three days, she realized, she spent a lot of time in her own head. Both because she was in comfort, rather than distress, and because she was relieved having finished her studies. As her mind drifted, Viveca thought of her last conversation with her most respected mentor, Mother Indira. [center][color=red]Grand Ballroom, the Great Basilika, Magnagrad[/color][/center][hr] [center][sub][written by Lovejoy & Scout][/sub][/center] It was the night of The Rising, the celebratory gala where all of the graduating Inquisitors were given their first real, liberating experience. It wasn't exactly debaucherous, considering all of the attendees were new servants of the cloth with little in the way of social skills, but at least they could try to cut loose. Viveca held a glass of water in one hand while the other arm crossed over her chest. Her eyes scanned the crowd almost lazily from the side of the room. Several of the new Inquisitors were dancing, or at least attempting to, and she had no desire to make a fool of herself like that. "Why aren't you dancing, love?" It always puzzled Viveca how such a harsh, stern woman managed to sound so sweet outside of class. She had a voice of satin, and her skin was surprisingly soft when it wasn't wielding a cane to strike your spine. The girl snapped from her reverie and looked up; she had, as the rest of the attendees, dressed quite formally for the event. Viveca was garbed in a glimmering silver dress which only partially hid her shoulders and gold bangles on her wrists. Her hair still held the familiar royal blue bow: she was never caught without it. It was hardly her style, but she figured it would be the only night like this she would attend for a while. Phoenix Warband had a much larger turnout than Leviathan, partly because they had more survivors in their class and partly because the rest of the Leviathan Warband were more anti-social than usual. Few Warbands put stock in how many survivors there are in a class - it could just mean their classes were easier, and it could mean that they just genetically had a lucky group of fighters. But the teachers for the Leviathan band were renown for their harshness and high mortality rate. Finally, she found the words she was looking for. "Oh, Mother Indira, my apologies. I didn't see you there, I was too busy watching the rest of the... erm... festivities." She gave her mentor a half-hearted smile and rubbed her shoulder gently, "To be honest, dancing isn't really my thing. It's like fighting without a clear winner. I think I'll stick to my falchion and bracer and leave the heels to the common Varyan or Lanostran women, if it's all the same to you?" The woman asked, offering a respectful bow and salute. It still hadn't sunk in that in less than a matter of days they would be peers instead of apprentice and master. [center]***[/center] The Omestrian summoner narrowed her eyes, then stared at Viveca's water glass. With a sigh she removed it from Viveca's hand and placed it on the table beside them. Indira, with the grace and fluidity of a dancer, snatched a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant. She handed it to Viveca. "Don't give me that, Viveca. You will drink and enjoy yourself tonight. That is my last command. Now come, I need to show you off to my famous friends." Indira snaked her arm around Viveca's and led the girl from her secluded spot near the drinks table. The two walked arm-in-arm through the fringes of the ballroom, exchanging pleasantries with the visiting officers, priests and socialites. Indira had taken to introducing Viveca as "her azure rose, an Omestrian sorceress with mastery over light," which seemed to impress them well enough. Mostly, it was Indira doing all the talking, with her pupil standing there quietly, smiling when it was necessary, laughing when it was convenient. When the two finally had a moment to themselves, Indira abruptly stopped the show. "Very well, I thought you were just nervous about the party, but something's wrong. Speak to me." [center]***[/center] As the weight of the water glass left her hand, Viveca almost protested. However, the replacement wine wasn't something she was planning on turning down; It was more than refreshing, right down to the dry aftertaste left in her mouth after she took a sip. The newly ordained warpriestess swirled her glass tentatively before giving a nod and following her mentor. Mother Indira wanted to show her off? The Omestrian woman hardly understood why, but followed after anyway. Politely introducing herself to each of them, now and then giving a small demonstration of her unique, though arguably unnecessary, talent. The first introduction caused her to blush, but she finally got used to it; the flattery was so strange coming from her, it was the last thing she expected after the way she was trained for the last several years. When Mother Indira abruptly switched topics, Viveca rubbed her shoulder and had another replaced her now-empty wine glass with a fresh one. "No, ma'am, I'm perfectly fine... I guess it's just mission jitters," She suggested half-heartedly. Culmination was days prior, and even now Viveca couldn't make heads or tails of I-XIX's vision. And beyond Mother Indira, the only person who had ever known or been able to teach Viveca about her heritage was the inquisitor who took her in as a child. Even he didn't teach her a whole lot, both of her teachers were tight lipped about it. But Mother Indira, to her credit, always said that thing... And it was always in the back of Viveca's mind. Deep within you, you have a flame. Never allow it to go out. "Actually, Mother Indira, that... that thing you always said, to Oren and to me... Why do you say it? What does it even actually mean?" [center]***[/center] Indira took a quick intake of breath when the question left Viveca's lips-- it was a controlled, disciplined reaction, almost seeming rehearsed in a way. "My dear..." Indira began before trailing off. The rest of her words seemed stuck in the back of her throat. The summoner scanned the room, her golden pupils quickly taking in everything around them. When she was satisfied that no one around them was listening, she looked upon her former student and offered her a sad, almost embarrassed smile. "It was... something I used to hear when I was a girl. My ashe-rahn would always say it to us. It was a mantra to grant us strength-- To keep us from falling into despair and darkness. And so, I passed it on to you two." Indira stopped then. She rubbed her arms, as if a sudden chill had come over her. Her eyes were cast downward, the gold in them seeming to lose some of their brilliance. "Of course, because of the nature of that word, we cannot use it. But, it is [i]our[/i] word. And I've always felt as if we've a right to say it without fear of the consequences. To perhaps even... reclaim it some day." She then took Viveca's hands in her own. "Just forget about my silly old saying," she said, grinning. "When I first started as an instructor, I was young and naive, barely older than you are now. Quite frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I looked at Antonin and Creid, and wanted so desperately to be like them, to be to trainees what those two were to me when I was in the Seminary. Creid had his own little creed he would say to us, and so, I believed I also needed one. That's when I remembered my darling ashe-rahn." At that moment, a trio of Varyan officers sauntered past, the youngest of them flashing them a pearly white smile. Indira watched the soldiers as they headed toward a table of young beautiful women. Their blonde hair shone gold in the etherlight. Indira tore her eyes away from them and met Viveca's gaze. There was something in the summoner's expression that seemed... off to the young inquisitor, a look of worry but, something more. It took a moment for Viveca to realize what it was. It was guilt, an expression that appeared entirely foreign on the summoner's face. "I need to tell you something about the invasion," Indira said in a voice barely above a whisper.