[u][b]Thessir[/b][/u]

Submerged in black waters he thrashed. The light was too far to see and all that surrounded him was the cold grip of the pool starting to pull him underneath. As he felt the current start to jostle his flailing form he recalled watching the bowl floating away, the sickly yellow paste inside dissipating into the stream. He couldn't breath. He was moving but he was too cold to struggle. The nothing he could see was joined by the darkness behind his eyelids as he lost consciousness.

_
It was evening. The sun was just starting to touch against the horizon. The beams of light were cast through the clear windows below, faint particles of dust caught in the illumination. Up above, in the dark shadows of the rafters slept the diminutive young elf. With his head rest against the wall while he slept atop the roof beam he had his hat set over his face to block out any stray light to save from discomfort.

[b]"Omigosh! I can't wait to see who shows up at the tournament!"[/b] One overly cheery voice from below remarked in what was clearly not their indoor voice.

[b]"I hope plenty of cuties sign up this year!"[/b] The girl's accompanying friend added, speaking with an annoyingly shrill and squeaky voice.

Thessir stirred, rudely roused from his slumber by the two empty-headed girls passing under, gossiping about the upcoming tournament. He never cared for sleep, not with the dreams such rest brought however waking was never pleasant either, especially when it was still daytime.

"Tournamint this, tournamint that." He muttered in irritation, largely to himself. Pushing himself up he sat his hat back upon his crown and stretched, yawning deeply as he did. Grabbing hold of the side of the beam he lowered himself a bit before letting go and landing on the floor below with deft grace.

"Weire it not for the lightniss in my pouch and the locks to the library I'd say nay but here I am no liss, off to sign up in the hopes of moving forward." He rambled on, talking to himself until he caught notice of someone staring from the corner of his eye. A flower beast-kin half submerged in the garden soil was looking out from under her petals at him questioningly. After all, talking to one's self was not normal behavior, at least not in Zauberheim. Seeing her staring back at him he grumbled and turned away, cutting through the garden on his way out of the academy.

_
He had made his way to the market where he purchased a wooden dowel for a measly few coins. While of little use for him now after some work he saw potential in it as a weapon. Perhaps not a fine weapon of elegant make but a weapon no less.

Heading into the northern courtyards of the academy he found himself enjoying the experience less and less. Bustling crowds of people filled the streets, most of them a fair bit taller than him making it quite hard to navigate. Even from underneath the brim of his hat the sunlight made the world far too bright, hurting his sensitive eyes as he looked around. Keeping to the walls and trekking through shade whenever possible he eventually made it to the pavilion where numerous purple registration tents were set and ready to recieve applicants.

With his hat low he kept a low profile and continue towards one of the tents chosen largely at random. There were people that knew him but none he'd really describe as friends. He was a strange sort and strangeness often brought a sense of alienation with it. Affiliated with neither elf nor beast nor man despite his racial heritage he stood out from the accepted and the welcome. It wasn't so much discrimination as it was isolation. No one had much to do with him or his kind and he even less so.

So he had no real friends to speak of, which was fine in his opinion. In the wake of his failure solitude has clung to him like the scent of sea water no matter how many people surrounded him. They did not know, he did not need for them to know.

He was Thessir, he was not from here. That's all he'd ever share.