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⚫ Cloud's Spire, Castle of Cloud's Reach.[/center]
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A mere gaze at the diving, snow-covered valley beyond Cloud’s Spire would have been enough to conjure awe among any observer of such beauty. However, one would be forgiven for considering the three women presented before their King unamused, and untouched. Indeed, mysteries and tall tales spun like silk within tavern walls did not begin to scratch the surface of what had been said about The Fates. Some believed them to be actual creatures of myth from a far distant land, and others simply brushed the notion aside as a mere fairy tale. Yes, they themselves were observed stating, on more than one occasion, that a bard’s song held power. A cryptic message, to be sure, but one which hinted towards rumors, more so than truth. One could, of course, argue that a desire, or an agenda, dictated such motions. As most stories involving these exceptionally otherworldly beings ended, ‘the world may never know’. 

“Well..,” came an old, gruff voice. It was embodied by a large, well-dressed man who had clearly grown accustomed to luxury, which proceeded to be reflected by not only his regalia, but also an extravagant scene. A ceiling painted by masterful hands, furniture carved with grace, and gold lining every surface of note, this was the venue of a King. Not a throne room, no, but rather an enclosure dedicated to business, and conversation. A room that offered view of what an uneducated man would have considered the entire world. “Another year, and your school seems to have lived up to expectations,” the man continued. “How do you plan to move forward?” 

Lacquered wood and cushions of rare fabric, chairs accommodating the King’s guests would surely have halted most, where consideration for one’s own worth took center stage. However, with one leg over the other, each sister maintained a comfortable position upon their soft, golden-red surface. 

It was an easy mistake to make, thinking The Fates a single individual with the ability to mirror herself, but no, such was not the case. Truthfully, no one knew of the sisters’ abilities, as they had never been displayed. However, considering their alleged age of ancient existence, not even a King dared ask. “We plan to proceed as we have,” Shale spoke, the middlemost madame with Wisp and Spin at her side. It was no secret that Shale was the eldest, and less so that she maintained the highest form of authority among the three. 

“Silvermist has documented an increase in contracts from each successive, previous year,” Wisp added, her voice an exact echo of her older sister’s. Melodic, and pure. 

“Students are maintaining a constant level of improvement, and civil safety is undisturbed,” Spin continued, a voice yet again heard twice before. Each word was reflected in several documents gathered into a large, if organized pile. Naturally, only a fool would entertain the thought that King James would dedicate time to reading through every line, as it was far from his immediate responsibility. However, he had insisted on having annual meetings with the sisters, if for nothing else, the relationship between humans and mutant kind. It was a proposition that was met with little reluctance. 

“We’ll make sure to look through the numbers,” King James commented, patting a large hand onto the pile before a single motion towards his servants brought them to his table, where they proceeded to relieve him of the paperwork. This meeting had been in progress for far longer than a bystander would have cared to linger, but such was the way of bureaucracy. Stability was not always a fun, nor cheerful endeavour, but rather, a necessary one. “I take it we can summarize it, then, on a positive note?” 

A small smile stretched its way across Shale’s features, her bright, blue eyes meeting the king’s chocolate-colored gaze, “Silvermist Academy strives for happy endings, your grace.” 

“From within, and without,” Wisp added. 

“A colorful display,” Spin grinned, “and our students never cease.., to surprise us,” she finished, each word a playful tease, but filled with truth. Silvermist Academy was presented with new conflicts every single year, and each obstacle was always met by its unique, and mystical attendants. This year would be no different, and the expressions meeting King James spoke of anticipation. One could only look forward to an ever-unfolding future.

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