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[center][sub]Dates: September 21st - October 7th[/sub][/center]

[hider=9/21: Aaron & Varis]
[center]Turning the Tide[/center]
Aaron’s day passed slowly, the mage fading in and out of sleep for what felt like no more than five minutes at a time; he had opted to spend the day in one of Eris’ armchairs, leaving the couch to Salem. The night’s events coupled with the distinct discomfort of staying in another vampire’s dorm made it difficult to relax, and it wasn’t until briefly before sunset, when exhaustion overwhelmed his sensibilities that Aaron was finally able to drift into something resembling sleep. 

Of course, like any other chance for Aaron to relax, it was short-lived, a secondary alarm he’d set for himself blaring him back to life shortly before the sky turned completely dark. He silenced it quickly, hoping it didn’t wake Eris up, and made his way from the dorm as quietly as he could, sneaking across a still-deserted campus. A few times he spotted an obsidian-clad patrol in the distance, but they paid him little mind, and he was able to make it to the noble cul-de-sac unmolested. 

When he finally shambled back to his dorm (disheveled from a sleepless day in an armchair and what he assumed was a developing hangover) the delivery woman was already there, watching him with unveiled amusement. 

[color=gray]“Rough day, kid?”[/color]

Aaron didn’t bother to hide his look of contempt, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to look a [i]little[/i] presentable. He did his best to shake off his lingering grogginess and approached the woman.

[color=f0d705]“You’re early,”[/color] he greeted flatly, voice dry. As if on cue, the first alarm he’d set to wake himself up for just this occasion went off in his pocket. 

The delivery woman didn’t seem bothered. [color=gray]“It’s a slow night,”[/color] she explained, smirking as she handed over her clipboard to be signed. 

Silencing his alarm with one hand, Aaron signed the clipboard with the other, not bothering to take it from her. He cleared his throat as the woman handed over his usual package, warm to the touch and smelling of raspberries. [color=f0d705]“Thanks.”[/color] 

The woman chuckled, amused by Aaron’s unusually short demeanour. [color=gray]“Happy Revel,”[/color] she replied, turning back to her bike and not bothering to hide her snickering. 

Aaron glared after her, though he gave that up before she even got her bike started, leaning against the wall and doing his best to blink the sand out of his eyes. A cursory glance told him it was 7:58pm., giving him only two minutes to prepare for what he was sure would be a thorough dressing-down when he finally got inside. 

He cast a wary glance at the dorm. His immediate fear of these encounters had since lost its edge, replaced now by an exasperated, yet familiar, sense of dread. He was a mess; he set the box down on the top of the wall to brush himself off, doing his best to get the creases out of his pants while simultaneously knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. He flattened his lapel unnecessarily - his jacket was hopelessly wrinkled anyway - and hung his mask on his elbow, doing his best to rub the sleep out of his eyes and futily hoping the growing headache pounding behind his eyes would subside. 

At 7:59 Aaron made his way to the door with his package and stood for a moment at the threshold, taking a deep breath. He didn’t know what awaited him on the other side of that door - though he had a couple guesses - but he resolved that there was no sense giving himself time to get worked up over it, and knocked. 

Varis, for once, set an alarm himself the night before when he realized the incompetant oaf was late. Once again, Varis had to wonder what they taught them behind those castle walls. Maybe the royal family was just letting them lounge about like exotic pets until it was time to put them on parade. That would explain all the poor manners the boy had. The earlier hour added an extra edge to his irritation as he got ready. He chose a royal blue suit today with ruby cufflinks. He didn’t wear it often but he was feeling a little color today after the cathartic night before. And raking the boy over the coals would be the perfect way to clear out the last vestiges of weakness he succumbed to. 

His next alarm rang at 7:45 as he was stepping out of his room. He’d made sure to draw the curtains when he finished cleaning up his mess. A quick appraising eye around the room and he fixed on a couch cushion left askew; otherwise, everything looked to be in order. Not a thing out of place and certainly nothing to suggest he’d reverted to a childhood habit. He repositioned a chair in the middle of the living room, took a step back, decided it wasn’t quite right, and put it back. It was important to make an impression. The boy was, irritatingly enough, taller than Varis and he wasn’t sure just standing would be enough of a power play to remind the boy of his position but the chair had been used so frequently in recent nights, Varis was afraid its effectiveness was fading. 

Varis would never admit it but he lost track of time, startling at the knock at the door. He huffed and straightened his jacket, smoothing out any last wrinkle, drew back the curtains, and went to unlock the door, not bothering to open it as he turned away and made his way back into the living room without looking at Aaron. Varis kept his back turned and snapped once at the spot next to him. 

Aaron heard the lock slide over, unsurprised that the door didn’t open, and opened it himself, stepping in with his package under his arm and doing his best to act like he [i]didn’t[/i] look like he’d just returned from some wilderness excursion gone wrong. By the time he got in he could already see Varis in the living room, dressed uncharacteristically colourfully and staring thoughtfully out the window. Yeah, that couldn’t be good. Varis usually sat for their little talks, presumably to lord his comfort over his mage’s groveling and give himself the freedom to perch a shoe under Aaron’s chin, so forgoing that luxury tonight and standing certainly meant he had something [i]different[/i] in mind. Great. He’d do his best not to dwell on that too much. The snap, at least, was expected, and Aaron made only enough of a detour to deposit his package on the kitchen counter before promptly kneeling where Varis indicated, gaze trained silently on the floor. 

Varis let the silence stretch between them for a minute. He closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasant aroma of the pastries and the tension that must certainly be in the boy’s shoulders. He let out a sigh. [color=f7976a]“After all the progress you’ve made, after you’ve earned a day off, after you made me believe that you were improving. A curfew. That’s all you had to do. No other rules, no other responsibilities. And you couldn’t be bothered to meet it.”[/color] Varis sighed again and shook his head in disappointment. [color=f7976a]“I was considering the next step would be covering one of those awful letters in your room but I clearly need to rethink that.”[/color] Varis let him sit on that for a while longer.

[color=f7976a]“I’m disappointed, boy. What do you have to say for yourself?”[/color]

Aaron almost jumped when Varis broke the silence, but truthfully it was nothing more than he expected. In a way, Varis echoed his own thoughts on the matter. Everything he said was true; following a curfew wasn’t rocket science, and after how excited and grateful he’d been to receive his night off, he repaid that kindness by falling short of the only expectation he had to follow. It was shameful, and Aaron would have been just as displeased if the roles were reversed. 

[color=f0d705]“You’re right, Master,”[/color] he agreed. [color=f0d705]“It was a simple order, and I’m disappointed in myself that I couldn’t manage to follow it. For what it’s worth, know that I had every intention to get back on time. Please accept my humblest apologies.”[/color]

Varis resisted an exasperated eye roll. Immediately taking responsibility? Exactly as the boy should do but it took all the fun out of this. He thought on the matter some more, considering whether that was enough to let the boy off the hook. Probably not. [color=f7976a]“Your apology is being considered. While I am glad you didn’t shirk your responsibility in this matter and accepted your failure for what it is, it still begs the question of why. If you had every intention, what distracted you? The Starags’ reputation suggests perfection to the point of obsession when duty and responsibility are involved so what was so important that you miss your curfew? Walk me through the last hour or so of your evening.”[/color] 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Aaron suppressed a sigh. Again, Varis was right, both about his family’s reputation and how he himself usually behaved. He self-admittedly pursued completion of his orders with single-minded purpose; the problem was that he had to admit it was the pursuit of someone [i]else’s[/i] orders that made him late. 

Swallowing his apprehension, Aaron forced himself to speak, resigning himself in advance to the furious response he expected to receive. [color=f0d705]“Most of my last hour was unremarkable,”[/color] he began, [color=f0d705]“I spent it enjoying Revel with Ms. Dionne - the Eve mage - and a few others, with alarms set to return for my curfew. Ms. Dionne stepped on a bottle before we left and cut her foot, and while I did help her home, I was still on track to be here on time.”[/color]

He took a breath before continuing. [color=f0d705]“However, when we arrived in the cul-de-sac, Princess Ryner was standing at the threshold of the Eve dorm with an Eve by the name of Count Benjamin - apparently [i]another[/i] replacement for their House’s spot here, Countess Mariette having apparently vacated the position. Of course she wanted to talk, and given her station I was loath to refuse her. The conversation carried on a bit longer than expected, and on top of that she asked me to relay her contact information to the new Count.”[/color]

Aaron’s next steadying breath was more of a sigh, a bit of lingering exhaustion sneaking into it as he recalled the fiasco at the Eve dorm. [color=f0d705]“He invited me inside, and I could hardly leave without giving him Her Highness’ information as requested. He seemed reluctant to release me, and by the time I finally got out of there, I had missed my curfew.”[/color] 

The little tidbit about the new Eve―Count Benjamin? He’d have to look into that later.―was filed neatly away for further inspection. If that had been the end of the story, Varis may have ended their little discussion there with a lighter sentence than originally intended. It was important to encourage good behavior as much as it was to punish bad behavior without going overboard but it didn’t. Of course, it was something about [i]Ryner[/i]. The entire reason the boy was in this situation was to distance him from them and here she was, meddling every five bloody seconds! She hadn’t been without him for a semester and here she was, upsetting everything he was trying to accomplish. Varis sneered and whirled on the boy.

[color=f7976a]“You missed the [i]simplest[/i] expectation because you wouldn’t bother explaining that your Master expected-”[/color] Varis stopped short as he finally laid eyes on the boy. The colors, the mask… All of it screamed Noila loyalist. Noila colors. On [i]his[/i] mage. Out at a public event. [color=f7976a]“Would you care to explain this ensemble, boy?”[/color] Varis spat, jaw clenching as he held himself back from repeating the scene at Ryner’s dinner. The utter disrespect of this situation, first with the curfew and now with his obvious Noila preferences, was a slap to the face and Varis seethed. If anyone saw this brat in this outfit and recognized him… Varis didn’t even want to think about the social consequences of a mage promoting, no flaunting, their loyalty to their previous owner. 

Aaron had an explanation on the tip of his tongue - albeit he wouldn’t know what it was until it came out of his mouth - when Varis cut himself off, stopping Aaron’s thoughts in their tracks. A cautious glance up showed Varis’ eyes darkening, a look Aaron was much more familiar with than he felt like he should be, though expected given the situation. 

Sure enough, the topic switched to his clothes; Aaron wasn’t surprised at the outrage, but somehow this had been the first time he really thought about the consequences of dressing himself up as a de facto Noila mascot for Revel. Sure, Varis wouldn’t be out in the mess to see it firsthand, but what reaction had he expected when he came back at the end of the night?

A stone of dread dropped in his stomach, and he suppressed a shiver. [color=f0d705]“Just something sent from home, Master,”[/color] Aaron replied quickly, [color=f0d705]“I had no say in the matter.”[/color]

[color=f7976a]“Oh? You had no say. Well, that makes everything better!”[/color] Varis said derisively. [color=f7976a]“Are you saying someone came into my home, put a blade to your throat, and demanded you put those clothes on? Are you telling me you didn’t put each and every piece of that gaudy outfit on, check for wrinkles, make sure your cuffs were buttoned up properly, check the lacing on your shoes more than once because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself and trip while dancing? Did some sort of enchantment compel you into putting these clothes on because from where I’m standing, it seems to me that you very much had a say in the matter.”[/color] Varis crouched, grabbing the boy’s chin firmly, and made him look him in the eye. He let his thrall reach out into the mage, letting it fill the boy with a sense of security despite Varis’ visible frustration.

[color=f7976a]“Why don’t you tell me how wearing those clothes made you feel. Was it nice wearing Noila colors again?”[/color] Varis asked, his tone sweet and soft. 

Aaron resisted flinching as Varis let loose his barrage, each point lowering his head a little further with shame. Because it was true. And it [i]was[/i] shameful. And foolish. Foolish to think he’d get to enjoy that one evening of respite from reality. Good lord, he’d have been better off coming home naked! The break was [i]nights[/i] away and he couldn’t wait that long to pretend that his House hadn’t cast him out? Sure, he hadn’t requested the ensemble himself, but he hadn’t told his mother otherwise either, and he’d admired it and cherished it as a memento from home, and somehow hadn’t thought about the consequences. Once more he’d brought this on himself; so much for not making the same mistake twice.

The chin grab was all but expected, though Aaron’s insides squirmed again when he was forced to look into Varis’ black eyes. Strangely, though, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came; Aaron saw the look of utter contempt on Varis’ face, saw the rage swirling in his eyes, but somehow wasn’t bothered by it. It was the same feeling of calm he used to get as a child when he had to be ushered out of the way, warm and distinct. Varis was probably thralling him, but Aaon wasn’t terribly concerned about it. 

[color=f0d705]“It was… a nice reminder of home…”[/color] he softly repeated his words to the stranger at the ball, drawn in by Varis’ welcoming tone. 

[color=f7976a]“Yes, I’m sure it was.”[/color] Varis kept his voice level and slow, not wanting to snap the boy out of his control. Even if all he wanted to do was to drag the boy outside and sell him off to the Astorios for embarrassing him like this. [color=f7976a]“Do you ever wish you could go back?”[/color]

Only every night, but Aaron couldn’t tell him that. Or, maybe he could? Varis seemed to want to know, after all. He shouldn’t lie; Varis had made clear his contempt for dishonesty. Of course, there was one caveat. 

[color=f0d705]“Yes,”[/color] he answered honestly, though his voice did go a little quiet. [color=f0d705]“But… I don’t think they’d take me.”[/color] 

[color=f7976a]"And why is that?"[/color] Varis asked, letting concern leak into his voice. He'd heard it plenty from Ryner when she was consoling other vampires that it was easy enough to imitate. [color=f7976a]"You're the only male in the Starag line. Isn't it odd to think they wouldn't take you back?"[/color]

Indeed it was, but it was the only conclusion Aaron could come to. His hopes of being a diplomatic tool had gradually been dashed as Varis’ opinion of him worsened - after all, no one gives a defective gift to curry favour - so why else would he have been sent away? He used to dream of attending the [i]Queen[/i] for fuck’s sake, and now here he was, tripping over himself to obey the simplest orders from a [i]Count[/i]. Clearly he'd overestimated his capabilities - maybe that was why he was here. Maybe being the only fertile Starag left was what kept him from having his name stripped for good, but otherwise, Aaron had to assume that he was here because the Noilas thought he wasn’t worth the trouble. 

[color=f0d705]“I suppose,”[/color] he answered Varis’ question somberly, [color=f0d705]“but I can only imagine that if they still wanted me, they wouldn't have given me away in the first place.”[/color] 

Varis had enough of the boy’s pity party. He’d never cared for the servant class’ depressive tendencies. It left an unwelcome taste in his mouth like all their other emotions. He stood back up, breaking his thrall, and took a moment to process. Playing with the boy’s head gave him time to collect himself and he no longer felt like an Astorio brute despite the simmering anger. The fact still remained that Aaron disrespected him in one of the worst ways possible, and publicly no less, so he needed to rectify that immediately. He gave Aaron a few moments to shake off Varis’ influence and collect himself before immediately returning to chastising the boy. 

[color=f7976a]“This disrespect is unacceptable, boy. You flaunted another house’s colors, your old house’s colors, in public which sends an unmistakable message to anyone with more than two brain cells. Which thankfully rules out the majority of this school but the rare few are going to be talking about this everywhere. I guarantee that the staff at the very least will spin rumor after rumor that’ll have to be handled sooner than later.”[/color] Varis muttered at the end, rubbing his temples as he considered how to handle that. He was definitely going to lean on Eris for that one. The vampire knew how to play the public like a lute and Varis wasn’t above making another headline to avoid this one. 

[color=f7976a]“For now, I want that off. Everything you’re wearing needs to come off right now. Fold it neatly and leave it right where you are. Shoes and mask included. Then, you’ll lead the way into your room and take a damn shower. Clean yourself up because you are disgusting and I will not tolerate that for another second. Just looking at you makes me want to vomit. And then we’ll deal with the rest of your Noila belongings like I should have at the beginning.”[/color] Varis ordered.  

Varis stood, and the calm that had fallen over Aaron immediately began to lift, an ugly ball of dread coming in to replace it. Oh no. No no no. He did [i]not[/i] just say all that out loud, to [i]Varis[/i], did he!? 

Coming to the full realization of what had just occurred, it was all Aaron could do not to panic. He’d just admitted some things to Varis he would hardly admit to himself, and all of them unbearably traitorous. And now, Varis was silent, and all Aaron could do for a moment was stew in dread. 

Mercifully, Varis finally broke the silence, and Aaron had never been so happy to be ordered to strip; better than a million of the much less pleasant alternatives his panicking mind had come up with. He did just as he was told, wasting no time worrying about modesty as he stripped and folded his clothes as commanded. There was no time to wonder what would become of them before he took off to his room; once there, he unceremoniously removed his earring as he turned on the water, leaving it on the bathroom vanity and not even waiting for the water to warm before jumping in the shower.

Varis inspected his nails as Aaron rushed to complete his tasks, rolling his eyes. At least he still did one thing right. Varis followed Aaron into the room and ignored as the mage threw himself into the shower. Varis shook his head. The boy could rival Eris for his dramatics. He helped himself to the boy’s closet, barely bothering to look around as he snatched things off hangers and shelves and tossed them on the floor. Trash, trash, trash… Varis tossed two of his undershirts on the bed, two pairs of slacks, underwear, socks, and the least irritating pair of shoes he could find alongside them. Those would be enough to tide the boy over until he returned to the castle with his tail between his legs.

[color=f7976a]"If you don't finish washing in the next five minutes, I'll finish it for you."[/color] Varis said as he walked into the bathroom and grabbed the earring off the counter before returning to the bed, sitting down, and examining the jewelry. 

Aaron didn’t have to be told twice. He’d already been washing at a fever pace anyway, scrubbing like mad to keep his hands from shaking. Part of him knew he really needed to get this stress response under control, but tonight… tonight was different. Aaron wasn’t sure he’d ever screwed up this bad with Varis; even being dragged around the Princess’ dining room by his neck hadn’t felt quite this urgent. As far as Varis was concerned, that episode had merely been incompetence. This… this was much worse. [i]This[/i] was purposeful disrespect. 

He didn’t even need the full five minutes to finish; he emerged with about a minute to spare, drying himself quickly but thoroughly. He left his towel hanging on its rack - experience told him it would only irritate Varis, and Aaron had bigger things to worry about at the moment than nudity - and made his way back into the bedroom, sparing only a glance at the mess that was his closet and the clothes delegated to the bed. Seemed about right. The Noila belongings Varis wanted to “deal with” constituted just about everything Aaron owned, and it seemed like Varis really was intent on “dealing with” all of it. A bit of distress sparked up in the back of Aaron’s mind as he considered exactly what that entailed, but he forced it aside as he took his usual place at Varis’ feet, noticing only then that the Count had his earring in hand. That couldn’t be good, either. 

Varis waited until the boy settled to turn his attention away from the earring, folding his hands in his lap as he considered the mage at his feet. Varis put his foot beneath his chin and tilted the boy's face to meet his gaze. [color=f7976a]"This is much better. I'm quite sick of these Noila trappings you wrap yourself in. There is little more disrespectful than my own mage trapessing about in another family's colors. Plus, it only serves as a distraction. It'll be better once we- you- deal with these, receive your punishment, and we can move on from this mess."[/color] Varis clicked his tongue in disappointment.

[color=f7976a]"But before that. I'll admit I can't quite wrap my head around something. Why, after everything you said, would you even do this? Why scorn the House that took you in after Ryner cast you to the wolves? Do you blame me for this situation you’re in? Is that why you're acting out?"[/color] Varis demanded.

Aaron struggled to meet Varis’ gaze when his face was lifted, and this time only partially because of his usual aversion to eye contact. Mostly, it was because he was embarrassed; not even so much from the kneeling or the nudity - he was used to that - but from his behaviour. He didn’t have the heart to try to defend himself, tell Varis it was never his intention and he simply wore what was sent to him, nothing. Not only would Varis not believe him, but it wasn’t even [i]true[/i]. The truth was, he’d known [i]exactly[/i] what he was doing when he put on that suit and strapped on that mask. He was dancing the night away in his nostalgic little bubble, pretending he was back home and everything was fine. Above all, he didn’t just disregard the flagrant disrespect it showed to his new House - he [i]enjoyed[/i] it. 

[color=f0d705]“I don’t blame you, Master,”[/color] he murmured. At least that much was true - Varis seemed no more the willing participant in this match than he was. If anything, it was [i]him[/i] who got the short end of the deal, being given a mage as incompetent and reprehensible as Aaron was learning he was. 

For a moment, though, he wasn’t sure how to continue. How could he? Anything he said would only serve to further insult Varis, not to mention expose him to more of those mortal emotions he viewed with such contempt. But Aaron had already spilled so much of his guts under Varis’ thrall, was it worth keeping the rest of it a secret now? Wouldn’t it be better to get it all out of his system, take whatever punishment resulted and finally move on?

[color=f0d705]“Mortal attachments are illogical, Master,”[/color] he finally continued, opting to just come out with it. [color=f0d705]“Serving the royal family is all I’ve ever known or wanted, I’ve broken a centuries-long legacy, and… I suppose I’m still struggling to accept it.”[/color]

[color=f7976a]"Interesting. Tell me, how do you feel about this?"[/color] Varis unfurled the earring and dangled it in front of the mage. [color=f7976a]"Be honest. I don't have the patience to take the answers nicely this time."[/color]

Aaron watched the earring swing with hard eyes. Be honest, and expect consequences. Bite the bolt and get it over with. It seemed he had the right idea to start with. [color=f0d705]“It feels like a cattle tag, Master.”[/color] 

[color=f7976a]"It feels like a-"[/color] Varis stared in silent amazement at the boy. Varis gave him a claim of ownership, not his first pick of course but an effective one nonetheless, and the boy calls it a cattle tag? Once again, the slow building interest in the boy crashed at his utterly ungrateful behavior. The boy should be thanking him that Varis bothered to show interest in him at all! Varis wasn't the one tossed out from his home, Varis wasn't the one kneeling in front of another, Varis wasn't the one being used as a pawn in some twisted game! Varis closed his eyes and swallowed back the bubbling anger. Mostly.

[color=f7976a]"A cattle tag. I give you a gift and you treat it like a common piece of garbage. How predictable.”[/color] Varis scoffed, returning the earring to his lap. [color=f7976a]“I never realized the Starags were such an ungrateful bloodline. I assumed yours above such things but clearly I was wrong. Just another thing on the list of things to correct I suppose. And I thought it was finally getting shorter.”[/color] Varis sighed and tapped the toe of his shoe against Aaron’s chin thoughtfully. If the boy didn’t care for it, then perhaps he’d indulge him. Considering the offence, a bolder statement would probably be better anyways as much as Varis disliked the thought. But this mage was as dense as they came and seeing that in the mirror would be much more reinforcing than an earring.

[color=f7976a]“After some consideration, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps this mark is treating you too much like livestock.”[/color] Varis voiced his thoughts out loud. [color=f7976a]“Something more personal would be suiting. Would you like to be treated like a pet instead? I’m sure any number of craftsmen would love to be the first to design a collar for a Starag’s neck. I’d even pay to have it prioritized and sent to you at home. That would clear up any misunderstandings quickly enough. We can't have my mage wearing refuse, now can we."[/color]

Varis had a talent for tearing people down, and it seemed to Aaron that no matter how often he thought he’d hit the bottom, there was always a little bit further to fall. Aaron shook his head as best he could against Varis’ shoe, doing his best to contain his disgust at the idea of a collar. 

[color=f0d705]“No, Master, that won’t be necessary,”[/color] he insisted, defeated. [color=f0d705]“Forgive me for not recognizing your generosity. I’ve never been given this type of gift before.”[/color] 

[color=f7976a]“Good. I don’t think I could handle seeing a mage of mine in something as hideous as that.”[/color] Varis didn’t bother hiding his contempt for collars as he held out the earring for Aaron to take. [color=f7976a]“Put this back on. As for forgiveness, that will be much more difficult to earn. This is the third time you’ve slapped me in the face in less than a night and your punishment will need to reflect that appropriately. The first step is easy enough at least. I don’t think you’ll figure out a way to mess it up.”[/color] Varis waved at the clothes on the bed. 

[color=f7976a]“For now, get dressed. What I’ve laid out is what you’re permitted to wear until you’ve returned to the Noila castle. As plain as it is, it’ll do you some good to take away one of your defensive layers for a while.”[/color] Varis stood, his foot leaving Aaron’s chin, and he gave the boy an appraising look. He needed to make sure he had the boy’s measurements before he left. Varis couldn’t have him wandering the school like this forever so he’d need to bring an entire wardrobe back with him. Probably a tailor too for quick fittings. [color=f7976a]“After that, I want everything on the floor folded and brought into the living room. I have your publicity stunt last night to handle so hurry up.”[/color] Varis left Aaron in his room, settling out on the couch with his laptop. He had all his work from yesterday to catch up on and this disaster to avert so he sighed and set out typing emails to whoever he thought useful though he paused over Ryner’s contact information. He’d hold off on that one. Aaron would probably enjoy adding his input to that correspondence. 

That Varis seemed as uninterested in a collar as Aaron was was as a small comfort, though of course, it didn’t linger long. Aaron knew quite well by now that forgiveness was a difficult thing to come by in this household, and this latest and most severe of transgressions was certain to prove one of the most difficult yet to erase. He put his earring back on when told, quite practiced by now at securing it, but his jaw nearly dropped when he finally got a good look at what Varis had left for him to wear. This was hardly even [i]half[/i] of a complete outfit! He was smart enough not to hesitate, but there was still plenty of time for the horror to dawn on him as he dressed. An undershirt? That was all? He realized Varis seemed to be purging his entire wardrobe, but surely it would reflect poorly on him to have his mage walking around half-dressed, wouldn’t it?

Varis left, and Aaron stole a precious second when he had his clothes on and the others folded to look into his full-length mirror. In just an undershirt and slacks, arms and shoulders hanging out like some hillbilly in a movie, he felt even more exposed and underdressed than he did when he was naked. The shirt almost felt see-through, though he didn’t think it actually was. Rubbing his bicep absently, he was marginally comforted by the fact that there were no classes to attend between now and when he went home, though that’s when he realized the worst part of all; he’d have to show up at the [i]castle[/i] dressed like a homeless madman. But there was no time to dwell on that while Varis was waiting, and Aaron didn’t tarry long, moving promptly to the living room to deposit the folded clothes and take his place once more at Varis’ feet. 

Varis finished replying to an email about a disagreement between a Duke and Duchess under his purview then opened a blank email for Ryner. Or at least her pet mage considering the Princess could barely use a flip phone. [color=f7976a]"Now before we move onto the next step, I have to notify a few people that may also be affected by this development and since you grew up groomed for service to the royal family, I thought I'd use your expertise. How would you tell the Princess about your involvement in this incident?"[/color] As he spoke, a sense of dread washed over him as he realized he'll soon be in a similar position as the boy. Chances were she already heard and was just waiting to see how faithful he'd be. But that was a task for later, once the boy was away.

How would he tell the Princess? Aaron wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He’d already told Varis that Princess Ryner had seen him last night; she was perfectly aware of the situation, and (he realized, a little late and a lot uncomfortably) also doubtlessly aware of the consequences, given her familiarity with Varis. Although, now that he thought about it, Ryner probably wasn’t the object of Varis’ attention at all. Certainly he knew her skill - or lack thereof - with electronics, and knew that all of her emails went through one of her mages before being transcribed for her to read. Un prior years, that duty fell to her personal mage, Aaron’s mother; but now, with her declining health keeping her at the castle and working remotely, one of Ryner’s other mages had taken over that part of the job while the Academy was in session. Aaron had to bite back a proud little smirk; had Varis just missed the mark? 

That must have been it! This was just another humiliation tactic. The email wasn’t for Ryner’s benefit, but for the mage transcribing it; he clearly thought it would be Aaron’s mother - which would have achieved his goal quite disastrously, no doubt - but he hadn’t paid enough attention in recent years to know that job had been passed to a mage Aaron barely knew. Ha! Even in the face of the disaster he’d wrapped himself up in, that one little detail changed his mood more than he ever would have expected. 

Doing his best to contain his satisfaction at finally being on the… well, not the [i]winning[/i] side of one of these little punishments, but at least not too far on the losing side either, Aaron shook his head, tucking his tiny victory away for later. He had an idea of how he might turn things around, even just a little bit. [color=f0d705]“I don’t think that will be necessary, Master,”[/color] he replied evenly, though a bit more confident than before. [color=f0d705]“Her Highness is already aware of my disgrace, and besides, I have it on good authority that she might have her hands full with other matters for the time being.”[/color] 

Varis narrowed his eyes at the boy as he considered the question. Varis would give him credit - the boy kept his reactions well in line but Varis made it a point to observe his mages while outside of his direct attention and he quickly realized he'd made a mistake. Varis made a note to look into Ryner's staff. As far as he was aware, Ryner should be relying on one of the boy's relatives to keep track of her emails but the brat barely seemed phased. His response lacked the typical pause when he was forced to consider duty versus pride. Varis put the laptop aside, crossed his legs, and rested a hand on his knee and another on the back of the couch. It seems the boy won that round. 

Disgusting as it was, Varis felt, dare he say it, excited. Not only did he play his victory off with a quiet confidence, just a bit more training and he could erase even that, he twisted the conversation away from a track that Varis would have likely picked at until the boy bled. It was the faintest twitch, one Varis wasn't even aware of, but an involuntary smile at the corners of his mouth appeared and vanished before his unimpressed expression radiated disappointment once again.

[color=f7976a]"Of course she has her hands full with other matters. Ryner is one of the primary diplomatic administrators of the entire government and thus, the world. If she didn't have her fingers in twenty different operations, I would walk into the sunlight from the shock. She calls me a workaholic but I've watched her resist sleeping for two weeks and not suffer an iota of fatigue."[/color] Varis said dryly but he gestured for the mage to continue anyways. [color=f7976a]"However, I will indulge this obtuse attempt to redirect the conversation. Go on. We'll discuss how you'll dispose of these offending articles after you spit whatever important information you have to offer."[/color]

[color=f0d705]“There was a murder on campus last night,”[/color] Aaron wasted no time. [color=f0d705]“I spent my morning after curfew apprising myself of the details. Mr. Spellman and Mr. Alderman discovered the body, followed by Mr. Samael. It was drained of all blood from a vampire attack. Apparently the scene was gruesome, though Mr. Spellman was adamant that the wound on the victim’s neck had to have been made by a vampire in their right mind.”[/color] 

Aaron inwardly cringed at the thought. [color=f0d705]“The three of them were taken by campus guard to Princess Ryner’s office, apparently to avoid interrogation by Princess Nox, though they claim Her Highness was impersonated by a mind mage. After the illusion was broken, all three went back to Mr. Samael’s dorm, where Salem summoned me to hear the details.”[/color]

Varis considered the information. A murder on Ryner’s personal property? Whoever took on that task was clearly an idiot or suicidal with a thirst for vengeance. At least if it was the latter, Varis could respect the decision especially since they were clearly competent. What a waste of potential. With Nox personally on the case, he had little doubt that vampire would be staked for the sun sooner rather than later. Despite their estrangement, this was a clear attack on Ryner and, by extension, the Noila family and Nox was nothing if not protective of their status. Too bad he wouldn’t have an opportunity to invite the vampire to dinner. 

[color=f7976a]“That is interesting. A murder in Noila territory. And then she hid the three prime suspects from her sister’s investigation?”[/color] Varis clicked his tongue disapprovingly. [color=f7976a]“She must have had suspicions about the real culprit and went out to handle the situation herself. How disappointing. I haven’t seen her get into a physical altercation before. I would have loved to see that.”[/color] He was more than a little curious why Eris hadn’t immediately contacted him. He doubted the vampire was pleased at having the wool pulled over his eyes with Ryner’s little trick and that sort of thing wasn’t a minor slight. 

[color=f7976a]“If it were any other vampire, I would almost believe the murder was staged. A shocking death is a good way to distract from something. Perhaps I should have one of my contacts look into that anyway.”[/color] Varis nodded, making a mental note to set it up when he returned home. And then a wicked little light bulb went on above his head. Ryner handed him a little mole on a plate. [color=f7976a]“Of course, you’ll tell me everything you hear while at the castle and you’ll make sure to keep a keener ear than you used to. You’re a Sinnenodel mage now, after all, isn’t that right?”[/color]

Any lingering satisfaction from his tiny victory fled from Aaron as Varis held his position over him, a ball of discomfort taking its place. Impressed or not, Aaron was painfully reminded of his place, and Varis certainly knew how to twist a knife. A storm of indecision whirled in his head, duty to his new Count - assigned to him by Ryner, no less - conflicting with his lingering loyalty to the Noilas. Secrets and rumours flew around like flies back at the castle, and not even the unspoken ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy that governed the servants could inoculate him to them completely. And now he was asked to go [i]looking[/i] for them; who knew what he’d find? 

Of course, Aaron reminded himself, it was that lingering loyalty that got him into this mess. Like it or not, Varis was right; he [i]was[/i] a Sinnenodel mage now, and he needed to come to terms with that sooner rather than later. Easier said than done. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Surely [i]someone[/i] at the castle must have anticipated this; it couldn’t come as a surprise that he’d become a Sinnenodel earpiece. Really, with that in mind, it was remarkable that he was being welcomed back at all. 

[color=f0d705]“Yes, Master,”[/color] Aaron conceded, defeated. His earring hung heavy from his ear. [color=f0d705]“I will keep you abreast of the situation.”[/color] 

[color=f7976a]“Good. Though I doubt you’ll find anything useful, it won’t hurt to give you a task over the break. No need to see your mind stagnating with the Spellman boy around.”[/color] Varis said, dismissing the matter as soon as it was resolved and moving forward. [color=f7976a]“Was there more information you had to offer or should we continue on with how you’ll make up for your blatant disregard of your new position?”[/color]

[color=f0d705]“Just one more thing, Master. The reason for my lateness, in fact.”[/color] Aaron spoke expediently, anxious to get on to whatever demoralizing punishment Varis had in mind so he could get it done and over with. [color=f0d705]“I mentioned earlier that House Eve has a new representative at the Academy. His name is Count Benjamin; I’ve heard of him a few times before, he's a prominent mage rights advocate, certainly a black sheep of his branch. He took quite an interest in me, though he seemed a little unsure about Ms. Dionne. But that's not the interesting part.”[/color] 

Aaron shifted on his knees as the [i]other[/i] mystery from the night before resurfaced. [color=f0d705]“When we were talking, Princess Ryner let skip that Countess Mariette’s absence is due to a [i]death[/i] in her family. But I've heard of no such death, so it's either very recent or very well covered up.”[/color] His eyes flicked up, just for a moment. [color=f0d705]“Does any of that sound familiar to you, Master?”[/color]

Varis frowned at the phrase “mage rights activist”. First a Marivaldi and now a tolerant Eve. As if he didn’t have his hands full handling his Lady’s business in the family as it was. He needed to figure out who he was as quickly as possible but as much as he hated to admit it, it wasn’t a priority. Dracul’s “death” was a matter of urgency and at this point, Varis wasn’t sure if he had the resources to handle another point of interest. Throwing in some family death on the previous Eve’s part, which Varis was willing to bet a walk in the sun Ryner made up some excuse on the fly, and Varis was going to lose his goddamned mind if she didn’t settle the fuck down this instant. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

[color=f7976a]“Frankly, I’m surprised the Eves still have anyone left at the rate they’re dropping.”[/color] Varis grumbled. He was concerned that so many mage tolerant vampires were in close proximity to the boy. If even one of them reached out and with the intent of offering succor without Varis knowing, doing his job would become ten times harder. He didn’t want to cultivate any relationships with the plebeians but he may have to assemble a little coetere to keep him in check when Varis wasn’t around. Damn bleeding hearts. At this rate, he was going to stake the damn Princess himself.

[color=f7976a]“If Ryner let her leave to a death in the family, I’m inclined to believe it. It’ll be something to look into later.”[/color] Varis said, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. [color=f7976a]“Though I doubt your precious Princess would appreciate your speculation. A Starag questioning a Noila, I never thought I’d see the day. I’m glad to see you taking your lessons well.”[/color] Varis chuckled at the thought. 

[color=f7976a]“As for this Count Benjamin, we’ll see his colors soon enough. It’ll be interesting to see why she chose this one. He clearly has political clout, as poorly directed as his efforts are, but not enough for me to know him. I wouldn’t doubt if Ryner was grooming him into a puppet for later. She is in a unique position to cultivate favors and helping someone rise in their family significantly would put that vampire on a leash for a century or two.”[/color] Varis mused and shrugged. [color=f7976a]“Something to consider later. For now, it’s time we moved onto dealing with your transgressions. Since you performed well enough in your duties as a Sinnenodel mage, I’ll forgive your tardiness. Do not do it again.”[/color] Varis said as he leaned forward, catching Aaron’s chin and turning his gaze to the pile of clothes.

[color=f7976a]“But that transgression I cannot forgive. Your naivety put my reputation at risk and there must be consequences for that.”[/color] Varis shook his head in disappointment. [color=f7976a]“I think it only fitting that it be symbolic of your departure from the House. I want every scrap of fabric from your closet burned to ash. You’ll watch every ember wink out and then you’ll burn anything that survived. That awful outfit from last night will be the last thing on the pyre.”[/color] Varis let him go, gesturing to the mask.

[color=f7976a]“That, however, we’ll deal with now. I think it’s the perfect way to affirm your dedication to your new House. Pick it up, admire it if you want. It is an exquisite piece of work. Think of who sent it to you, what it means that the Noila house cared enough to send it to you, that your family cared enough to send it to you.”[/color] Varis said. [color=f7976a]“And then, I want you to break it right here. Into as many pieces as you can possibly manage and I want you to remember they let you go. Kicked you out from where you were supposed to be without warning into a strange and confusing world without so much as a peep. I want you to remember that despite your many failures, I took you in, I gave you a place,”[/color] Varis gently touched the earring, keeping his voice soft and low, empathetic. [color=f7976a]“I’ve given you direction and a purpose. And despite this slap in the face, I fully intend to continue to do so. One mistake isn’t the end of the world, no matter how great the stumble, but I need your dedication to this. Can you do that for me? For us?”[/color]

Varis’ point about questioning the Noilas caught Aaron off guard; how strange, he hadn’t even considered it. Varis was right, it wasn’t like him to question things like that. He figured he was only questioning the source of the information, but he had a point; speculation like that would never fly at home, where everything was governed by a strict unspoken policy of “don’t ask, don’t tell”. Up until this point, Aaron thought he’d been barely stumbling through Varis’ roundabout ‘lessons’ and only (poorly) acting the part, but now had to wonder… was all the espionage actually changing the way he thought?

While he was on the back foot, wondering if the Sinnenodel methods really [i]had[/i] begun getting into his head, Varis explained his punishment and just about bowled him over completely. So he was to purge himself of all his Noila-given belongings? Well, he supposed that was [i]almost[/i] all of his belongings, but his clothes made up the bulk of them, every article made to measure to exacting Noilan standards and lovingly taken care of. Aaron’s gut twisted at the idea. Destroying all he’d been given felt like treachery, like a slap to the face of the family who gave him so much throughout his life, the family he owed everything to. 

The family, as he was painfully reminded by Varis’ next instructions, he [i]thought[/i] he’d spend his life trying to repay. 

He followed Varis’ gesture, eyes falling to the mask. It really was a beautiful piece of work, glossy black enamel and feathers laden with gold. Regal, elegant, opulent; the very pinnacle of Noilan perfection. Even the crack in the beak only added to its beauty, broken just enough to make it shine. That was how he’d always imagined his upbringing under the Noilas, come to think of it. Like every swing of a switch over a mistake or an insult was a stroke of a sculptor’s hammer, each one expertly molding him a little bit closer to form. The pain was temporary, and he always came out the other side better than he started. Over time, as the corrections grew less and less frequent, he’d thought it was because he was nearing perfection. Lately, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was because he was beyond repair. 

Maybe he’d gotten lost somewhere along the way, gone by the wayside and fallen short of expectations. Maybe they thought he wasn’t worth the effort of rebuilding, or that he couldn’t fill the sizable footsteps left by his ancestors. Maybe they thought he’d make a better diplomatic tool than an attendant, and figured they could kill two birds with one stone by giving him up. Whatever the reason, Varis was right; they’d thrown him away. But what hurt the most, what kept him up during the day, was that he didn’t know [i]why.[/i]

Aaron froze when Varis touched his earring. He sat stone-still, heart pounding like an animal in a predator’s sights, Varis’ soft tone of voice sending a shiver down his spine as he listened. But what hurt and shocked him was that everything Varis said was true. Aaron was embarrassed to admit it, but something in him welcomed Varis’ reassurance and reached out for it, pining for the sort of stability he described. The Count’s methods were torturous, but were they so different from what he was used to? Methodology aside, they seemed to be working. Was it so absurd to think he might fit the Sinnenodel mold better than he fit the Noilas?

The very thought twisted Aaron’s heart in his chest, like he was betraying every Starag who came before him even just entertaining the idea. But what else could he do? Like every other, the choice had been made for him. His place wasn’t with the Noilas - not according to them. They thought fit to uproot him and turn everything upside-down, jettison him off into a world that - just as Varis said - he didn’t understand. That they’d never prepared him for. But worst of all, they took away his chance to carry on his family’s legacy. His whole life’s purpose, as far as he’d been concerned. Without it, he was aimless. He was nobody. 

Aaron picked up the mask, resolve flaring in his chest, though he nearly faltered as he cradled it in his lap, admiring the details and running his fingers over the feathers. His mother meant well in sending it, but looking at it now, it almost seemed a mockery, a feeble glimpse at what he could never be. Sure, he could parade himself naively around in Noilan colours for a night, but at the end of it he’d still have to take them off again, wouldn’t he? Take off his face and name while he was at it and turn back into the unrecognizable thing he was now.

But who said he had to stay that way?

Shocking himself, Aaron suddenly snapped the mask in half, and in half again, and again and again with a vigour he didn’t even know he had. Each snap incensed him further, every hour spent tossing and turning and agonizing burning their way to the surface as he worked. By the time he was done, the mask lay littered on the floor at Varis’ feet like confetti, an unrecognizable pile of rubble and feathers. His eyes stung, and a painful lump formed in his throat, but he remained resolute. 

[color=f0d705]“I can try,”[/color] he finally answered, voice betraying a conviction he still didn’t quite understand. 

Varis watched as Aaron shattered the mask at his feet. Frankly after all Ryner has put him through so far, it was nice to watch her little pet destroy her family’s image so energetically. Cathartic. He felt something in him ease, a worry he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and he smiled. At least something of his plan was going well. The boy clearly thrived on a supportive relationship with his vampire and Varis would definitely exploit that as a plan B. He of all vampires knew not to trust anyone and Ryner screamed caution. Varis brushed his hand down the side of the boy’s face and guided his gaze to meet with Varis. He knew his eyes would be quite clear considering how pleasant the sight of a Starag destroying [i]Noila[/i] property was.

[color=f7976a]“I believe you’ll do much better than try.”[/color] Varis kept his voice soft, his tone light, before releasing the boy and resuming his typical briskness. He waved at the mess. [color=f7976a]“Now, discard this and handle your punishment. Once you’ve done that, meet me in the study. We have plenty of work to do this evening.”[/color]  
[/hider]
[hider=9/23-10/6: Solo]
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[color=f0d705]“Would you keep an eye on Salem for a little while?”[/color]

Hamish looked up with surprise at Aaron, who was dressed in his riding clothes and cradling a cloth-wrapped wooden box under one arm. He perched a hand on his hip. [color=gray]“Sure, no problem. Where are you going?”[/color]

Aaron shrugged, subtly gesturing to the box. [color=f0d705]“I’m going for a ride in the woods.”[/color] 

Suddenly understanding, Hamish gave Aaron a knowing look and a solemn nod, gesturing to the door. [color=gray]“Of course. Leave Mr. Spellman to me.”[/color] 

Aaron nodded and headed to the stables, saddling up his favourite horse, a cream-coloured mare by the name of Star. At first he took the normal riding path, a leisurely, winding trail around the castle grounds and through the most appealing portions of the surrounding forest. Star knew the way well, and Aaron was able to let her lead the way to a point, allowing himself to relax and drink in the crisp forest air, admiring the wealth of nature the grounds had to offer. Fireflies flickered in the bushes amidst moonlight that filtered down through the trees; a cool, fresh breeze whispered through the pines, and once or twice Aaron heard the soft hooting of owls somewhere in the branches, no doubt watching his horse navigate the path below. It was beautiful and soothing, a welcome respite from the bustle of castle life, but tonight, it wasn’t what Aaron came for.

There was a point in the forest where the path came to a bend, curving away from an area of forest that grew thicker than the rest. There, wild young evergreens pressed in on all sides, a stark contrast to the spacious trunks of ancient pines that made up the rest of the trail. The thicket marked the border of the castle grounds, where the undergrowth was no longer kept at bay and left to crowd together, and any sane rider would know to follow the path, as there was no way to traverse such thick foliage on horseback, or even on foot for that matter. 

Of course, every castle had its secrets.

Aaron nudged Star in the direction of the thicket, and she turned without argument, uncharacteristically calm. Most horses would balk at being led into what was essentially a wall of trees, but this one knew better; she and Aaron passed through a spot in the foliage without so much as a scratch, the boughs opening up to accept them and closing seamlessly behind them. Salem might be impressed at the plant magic involved, Aaron mused. Too bad he’d never, ever see it. 

The trees opened to a less-trodden path, practically a tunnel of firs until it opened up at the mouth of a small clearing. At the back of said clearing, bathed in moonlight, was Aaron’s destination: A small, cubic structure of shining white marble, that had no earthly reason to be there. 

Leaving Star to graze in the clearing, Aaron made his way toward the structure with his box, pushing in through a heavy inset door and shoving it closed behind him. Inside, the only light came from a tiny skylight in the ceiling, admitting only a sliver of moonlight, but it was enough for Aaron. Two walls held sconces bearing unlit torches; placing the box he’d brought on a stone bench in the centre of the room, he fished a book of matches out of his pocket and lit them, bathing the room in a warm, yellow glow. 

The chamber was constructed entirely out of pristine white marble, square in shape and relatively unadorned, contrary to just about everything else on castle grounds. Along the back wall, though, was the exception: facing the doorway stood an exquisite, life-sized statue of Landar Starag, standing tall at a height of 6’4” and dressed in full Noilan livery. In one outstretched hand, he held a polished censer, and in the other, a carving of a scroll. Behind him on the wall was a hulking tablet of black marble, contrasting the surrounding white, and written upon it in gold script were Landar’s name, his dates of birth and death, and the names of the vampires he served: King Geoffrey Noila and Queen Anastasia Noila. His was the only statue in the room, but the other walls held similar tablets, bearing the names and information of Landar’s wife and children. Aaron knew that behind each tablet, the ashes of each of them were interred in an urn inside the wall, in keeping with an ancient burial ritual Landar had requested for himself and his family before his death. Generously, the Noilas had kept up the tradition with his family ever since, despite the usual vampiric abhorrence of death; thus, this very mausoleum was born. 

Slowly and silently, Aaron unwrapped the cloth from the box he'd brought and used it to carefully dust the statue. It was already spotless - someone had been here recently - but that was irrelevant. It was the process that was important, and Aaron worked meticulously, reverently, like he was carefully carrying out some delicate ritual. Which, in a way, he supposed he was. This was what was done out here, a tradition that dated back to when Landar and his family had first been laid to rest. 

When he was finished, he set aside the cloth and turned to the box itself, a small oak rectangle set delicately on the mausoleum bench. Opening it revealed a number of small cones of incense set into a bed of felt, and predictably, one of them was missing. He set a cone into Landar’s censer and lit it with a match; his mother always lit it with her magic when she came here, and Aaron remembered looking forward to a day he'd be able to do the same after he Awakened. The memory brought a faint smile to his face as he extinguished the match, depositing it in a small compartment in the incense box to be disposed of later. Things hadn't worked out quite in his favour in that regard, but he had learned to love his affinity even if it meant having to light incense with matches. 

And of everything that hadn't worked out as he'd planned, that was the least of his worries. 

After a moment, fragrant smoke curled delicately up through the holes of the censer, drifting dreamily through the still air of the mausoleum and encircling the statue of Landar like a protective companion. Aaron breathed deep the warm, familiar scent and finally bowed to the statue, his little ritual complete. 

Sitting on the bench before the statue, he looked up at it for a long time, following the tendrils of smoke that surrounded it and the folds of his clothes, all the way up to his grandfather’s stoic expression, eyes fixed on the door rather than whichever of his descendants had come to sit before him. 

It always had a way of making him feel small. 

Maybe it was because it really did stand three inches taller than him, or because he’d been staring wide-eyed up at it ever since he was little, but sitting in front of it, Aaron always felt… insufficient. 

He remembered how, as a child, that stern expression would always make him stand a little straighter, more effective even than those [i]looks[/i] from his teachers. It still had that effect on him now, the man he’d become posturing up a little taller. All through his life it had been a habit; even on his saddest and most frustrating nights, nights when he was convinced he’d never do anything worthwhile and wanted to throw it all away, when none of his teachers, his family or even the Noilas could motivate him, the look in his grandfather’s eye always brought him back down to earth, grounding him and reminding him of his place. That storming out wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the Starag way. 

A little smirk tugged at Aaron’s lip. The number of times he’d run to this place in a fit of rage or worry was larger than he cared to remember, but it had always done wonders for him. The place was calm; the air was cool, the crypt was quiet. There was a weight to the room, like history itself was pressing down on him, that always managed to calm him when no one else could. When last he'd come out here just hours before his awakening, that weight had stilled the fearful trembling in his hands; when he'd come back out after discovering he really was a mage, that same weight grounded him out of his fit of giddiness and brought him back to quiet dignity. No matter what, this place could always soothe him, bathing him in torchlight and silence and the watchful company of his ancestors. 

[color=f0d705]“A lot has changed since then,”[/color] he murmured out loud, shaking his head. 

He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating saying something more, but he could hardly get his thoughts straight. So much had happened, and there was so much he wanted to say he didn't know where to start. Eventually, he decided to think on it; there was something else he needed to do here anyway. 

He ran a hand along the smooth marble of Landar’s arm on his way to the corner of the room, taking a torch from the wall before kneeling before one of the large marble tiles that made up the floor. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand flat in the middle of it, closing his eyes. After a second, the tile shuddered in place and began to rise, grinding up out of place until Aaron could catch the edge and pry it up by hand. Beneath it was a tunnel with a ladder, leading down into murky darkness. 

Torch in hand, Aaron took the ladder down to a lower chamber, lighting another torch in a sconce at the bottom. This chamber was a mirror of the one above, but larger; tall marble pillars supported the ceiling and the walls were lined with black tablets as before, ancient stone urns bearing the ashes of his ancestors settled neatly before them. Where Landar’s statue should have stood, though, there was a different one; a 6’1” red marble likeness of Geoffrey Noila, with the Noila and Starag crests carved neatly into his hands. The people buried here were almost as ancient as Landar himself, his closest descendants, and there were more levels below, the graves in them getting more and more recent as they neared the bottom. 

There were only a few graves on the bottom level that contained people Aaron had ever met, but that didn’t matter. Making his way slowly down through the crypt, he could practically [i]feel[/i] his ancestors there, as absurd as the concept might be; it was like he walked among them, countless generations watching as he passed. Some nights that presence felt intimidating, like each urn he passed was judging whether he was worthy to count himself among them; other nights, it was reassuring to think that his ancestors were watching over him. 

Most of them had died long before his time, but Aaron knew their names as well as any of his living relatives, and their stories, passed down as bedtime stories from generation to generation, were as familiar to him as his own memories. Even after all this time, it was still hard to shake a feeling of wonder as he walked among the tombs; to him, the Starags of eld were all characters in a grand epic stretching back to the formation of the Treaty, heroes and warriors and loyal servants alike. 

Aaron always wondered what part he would play.

Reaching the bottom, he finally found a few graves of people he could remember in his own mind’s eye. There were only two he [i]really[/i] knew, though. One was Basil Starag, his great-grandfather who had died when he was quite young; Aaron’s only memory of him was of a very old man with sparkling eyes and a wide smile, lifting him high above his head as a toddler. The next Aaron was much more familiar with: Clytemnestra Starag, his grandmother, who had passed at the beginning of the year. She was nothing like her father; Aaron had largely avoided her once he was old enough to manage it, and she seemed perfectly fine with that. Most of his memories of her were of a cold, harsh stare or a dismissive comment to encourage him to leave her alone. A quiet joke among her daughters was that she was every bit an ice mage, though they always marveled at how the Queen could tolerate having her for an attendant. Clara always joked that her blood must have tasted of piss and vinegar. 

A flash of cold resentment surfaced in Aaron, followed promptly by a wave of guilt. But he couldn’t help it; the woman was a bitch, and as terrible as it was, no one was particularly devastated when she died. She would have hated being buried here, too, having shown nothing but contempt for their family’s traditions throughout her life - one of many ungrateful tendencies of hers. And yet, despite her cruel demeanour and muted distaste for… well, everything, she’d been a mage to Queen Anastasia herself for over sixty years. 

Aaron could see his reflection in the tablet marking her tomb, and saw his eyes go cold. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been happy she was dead. At long last, he’d thought, an attendant’s position had opened for him to finally take, and for the [i]Queen[/i] no less. He’d always thought that Queen Anastasia would have welcomed a happier, more vibrant attendant after decades of chilly indifference from his grandmother, that maybe even if he needed just a little more polishing before he was ready, there would finally be a spot for him at Her Majesty’s side. 

Clearly he’d been wrong. 

He tore his gaze away from his grandmother’s tomb, forcing himself to walk away before he got more heated. Past her grave were a few more, as yet unfinished: empty tablets lined the walls past Clytemnestra’s grave, along with a few that bore inscriptions, but were incomplete. Aaron went straight to the end of the line, past the tablets bearing the names of his mother and his two aunts, to the last one with a name on it. His. 

Every tablet in the crypt was pristine, but his was clearly newer than the rest, having been inscribed and installed only about three years prior. As per tradition, it was put in shortly after his Awakening and inscribed with his name and birth date, the death date and name of his master left blank. He’d been there when it was installed, as a part of the regular ceremony for a Starag’s awakening. He remembered being [i]elated;[/i] after so much time spent fretting and worrying about not being a mage and losing the only home he ever knew, he had finally been given reassurance that no matter what, no matter what happened or how difficult things got, he would always have a place here, immortalized in history alongside his ancestors. 

A painful lump jabbed at his throat at the sight of it now, something in his chest twisting. Could any of that be relied upon now? Sure, his stone was still here, but he’d learned that it wasn’t the anchor he’d thought it would be. Clearly it had done nothing to cement his place with the Noilas, so who was to say he wouldn’t be tossed into the soil to rot when he died like any other common human rather than cremated and interred here like he was meant to be? He doubted Varis would go to any length to accommodate him after death - would one of the Noilas take care of him in his stead? 

Would anyone even care?

The very thought made Aaron sick, and he fled from the chamber as quickly as he could without making too much noise, extinguishing the torches and hauling himself up the ladder. He shoved the floor tile back in place as if some monster from below was coming up after him, and stayed on his knees in the corner for a second, trying to catch his breath. 

[color=f0d705]“Give me strength…”[/color] he strained out, choked by a sob threatening to escape.

[color=f0d705]“How ashamed you must be,”[/color] he whispered, hauling himself up shamefully to sit on the bench before his grandfather, head bowed. [color=f0d705]“I failed them. I failed you.”[/color] 

The muted tension he’d been feeling since he arrived came out in full force, and Aaron finally let the tears fall, gripping the edge of the bench. [color=f0d705]“I don’t know how, or why, but I [i]failed.”[/i][/color] His body shook with a shuddering breath. [color=f0d705]“I failed and they threw me away to the [i]snakes!”[/i][/color] 

Aaron gulped for breath, trying his damndest to shut himself up and stem the flow of nonsense he was spewing. It took a few solid minutes of sobbing to finally calm down, weeks of frustration and uncertainty and pain finally working their way out. 

Finally, after a long while, Aaron coughed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. [color=f0d705]“What a fool you must think I am,”[/color] he told the statue, voice gravelly. He looked up at his grandfather, tall and stalwart, and felt small. [color=f0d705]“Here I am sobbing about my own shortcomings in front of [i]you[/i]. How pathetic.”[/color]

He shook his head angrily, resentful of his own weakness. He could practically [i]feel[/i] Landar judging him, and rightfully so. Who on earth was he to whine about his lot in life in front of [i]him?[/i] The man had sacrificed his freedom, his children’s freedom, that of every mage for a cause greater than himself, he’d bent the knee to people he [i]hated[/i] for the greater good, and what, Aaron expected him to feel sorry for some poor excuse for a grandson who was unhappy with his new master? 

[color=f0d705]“You’re right,”[/color] he agreed, clenching his jaw. He was acting like a petulant child. So what if he didn’t serve the Noilas? So what if he wouldn’t be buried with his kin? None of this was about [i]him,[/i] it was about millions of humans who were safe because of [i]his[/i] sacrifices, and the thousands of mages who made that same sacrifice every day for the same greater good his grandfather had fought for. His own selfishness blinded him to that fact, but as always, a little trip to see his grandfather made it abundantly clear. 

[color=f0d705]“Thank you.”[/color] He stood up in front of the statue, briefly remembering all the times as a teenager he’d measured himself up against it, and steeled his gaze, following Landar’s toward the door. Looking toward the future, as his mother always told him. 

What he had to do was get a grip and do the same. 
[/hider]

[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjU0LmYwMTcwYS5VMk5vYjI5c0lGTnJhWEEsLjIAAAAA/shlop.regular.png[/img][/center]
[center][sub]Dates: October 8th - November 4th[/sub][/center]

[hider=10/8: Lilie & Aaron]
[color=DEEB11]“Welcome back to Spell Theory 101. I assume you’ve taken this break to reflect on the importance of your schooling and returned refreshed and eager to learn. As I said before our last class, we start applying the theories we’ve reviewed thus far in our first arcane spell: Dark Eyes.”[/color] Professor Hayes spoke in the same monotone drawl as he looked over the class. The bags under his eyes deepened over the break, the lines in his frown harsher than before, and his shoulders displayed a weariness he hadn’t shown previously. [color=DEEB11]“Named after its visible physical alteration upon a successful casting, the Dark Eyes spell is a critical tool for any mage dedicated to the service of a vampire. The basic spell grants a mage a temporary heightened sense. Like how a light mage’s eyes naturally adjust to even the poorest light conditions, there still must be some light present. As your mastery over the spell grows, you’ll have the opportunity to learn its modifiers to enhance and alter the spell’s nature. That will come in time and with the appropriate specialization.”[/color] Hayes pulled a wand out from his robe and, with a flick of his wrist towards the computer, it flickered to life as did the projector. The screens behind him dropped down and displayed a brief review of some of the topics covered over the past month.

[color=DEEB11]“Before we continue on, we will freshen your memories of a few details we covered before the break. Arcane magic is a form of magic that is separated from the elemental aspect. The incantations and mental exercises that allow us to cast in such a fashion serve to strip the rigidity of our elemental nature and allow us full flexibility with our magic.”[/color] He slid his wand back into his robes and looked over the students. [color=DEEB11]“Mages with primary affinities tend to struggle with this. Primary affinities are instinctively intune with their affinity whereas secondary and tertiaries are a step more removed, thus allowing them to separate themselves from their affinity with much more ease.”[/color] Hayes took a sip of his water before continuing. 

[color=DEEB11]“Now, we left off before the break discussing the different types of arcane magic. In arcane magic, there are two types of spells: Static and Continuous. Static spells are cast and take hold, no longer taxing a mage’s magical reserves. The Lance spell spell, for example, conjurers a bolt of arcane energy that moves straight out from the mage’s front. This bolt, once created, requires no further effort to expend its effect. On the other hand, continuous spells tax a mage’s magical stamina and require active concentration for its effect to persist. Dark Eyes is one such spell. Although the incantation much only be said once, the mental pattern must be held to maintain the effect.”[/color] As he spoke, his wand came out again and he flicked at the computer, changing the slides as he discussed each type. It flicked forward one more, a depiction of the Lance spell under both continuous and static. The Static header showed a mage shooting the barely visible bolt while the continuous one showed several of those same bolts suspended in the air around the mage. [color=DEEB11]“Many spells can shift between the two types. In this case, the Lance spell becomes suspended in the air while the mage holds the spell in an attempt to find a more advantageous position. In this situation, the mage must continuously resist the base spell’s effect which takes a toll on the magical reserves. Dark Eyes does not have a developed static form. The last time it was attempted, it melted the eyes of those who developed it."[/color]

[color=DEEB11]“Attempting arcane magic requires two components: an Incantation and the Pattern. The Incantation is simple enough, only requiring the appropriate phrase and pronunciation. The Pattern, also known as the Intent, is the mental pattern required to strip away the affinity from your magic. Each spell has a unique pattern that must be kept in your mind and your magic pushed through. Failing to perform either component will cause the spell to fail. An improper incantation won’t result in anything spectacular but a failed pattern will, in more cases than not, cause some form of elemental reaction.”[/color] The slide shifted, the four primary elements listed above a series of eyes. Water affinies displayed various amounts of tears, ranging from a slight watering to a complete waterfall. Earth showed dry eyes, the most extreme harsh and cracked. Fire displayed actual smoke from boiling out at the corners and air showed temporary clouding over the eye. [color=DEEB11]“With this spell, none of the effects will harm you and will only last for a few seconds. As you delve into more advanced ones, the consequences of failure become more extreme, so it's always important to properly study your pattern and fix it in your mind before working on the Incantation. You'll have access to a physical reference for the pattern during our exercises that you’ll be able to take to study with outside of class. In the event you lose it, each class sends an updated list of student permissions and will replace it.”[/color] The slides shifted and the phrase "Oppolik" and a few other phrases around it.

[color=DEEB11]"Now arcane spells are grouped into sets known as families. These families are spells similar in nature, share the same pattern, and require the same modifiers. The Ward spell, the simplest of protection spells, is a weak shield capable of blocking a single hit or two in order to allow the mage to remove themselves from a bad situation. Its modifiers change the shape and location of the primary shield effect. Watch as I demonstrate. Oppolik."[/color] A grey disk the size of a steering wheel materialized in front of Hayes.  [color=DEEB11]"Actopplik."[/color] The disk doubled in size. [color=DEEB11]"Fleci Actopplik."[/color] The disk curved, turning into a partial dome. [color=DEEB11]"Fleci Actopplik Scansis."[/color] The shield shifted so it hovered directly above his head before vanishing. [color=DEEB11]"Such is how modifiers work in a family."[/color] The slides shifted again, the title displaying Dark Eyes and the imagine of a simple drawn eye with a curled pupil. Beneath it was the phrase “Tiltoure”. 

[color=DEEB11]“This is the pattern and incantation for the spell Dark Eyes. Refrain from attempting the spell. We will move into the next room for that. For now, take a moment to consider what you see and fix it in your memory. Are there any questions before we move into the practice portion of the class?"[/color] Hayes asked. [color=DEEB11]"I'll discuss the finer details in the next room."[/color]

Lilie was entirely unamused by the presentation, a dread hanging over her. Now that the time had actually come for magic, a lot of her previous enthusiasm was balled up in her stomach, making her feel sick. She had gotten to practice a lot of her affinity, but she had known from the very beginning that arcane magic was going to be a struggle. Figures as much, getting a tame affinity with little payoff. She let herself mope a little as she took meticulous notes, often underlining once in a while. She circled the part about primary affinities, her head dropping in defeat for a few seconds before she would take note of the consequences. Ren always said she was a crybaby, so it was kinda funny to see that was the consequence of a failure. But she was a little curious about the difference in static versus constant for a visual spell. Maybe it was because of the constant channeling magic through the eyes? She'd have to put some research into it, scribbling a note to herself as a reminder on the corner of her page. 

The shield demonstration was really cool, and she thought she remembered one of Kanalie's friends practicing something like that in the arena. The development of magic and their families grabbed her attention, her hand working like crazy as she continuously scribbled her own thoughts in between the notes given. That Lance spell definitely caught her attention more, though, the thought of slinging thunderbolts at an opponent more tempting than she wanted to admit. Patterns didn't seem too hard, but then again, she had no idea how hard it was actually going to be. Picturing something didn't really sound like a biggie, but she was sure there was probably more to it. She hastily copied the symbol and wrote down the name of the spell followed by the incantation, raising her hand to ask something.

[color=00BFFF]"How do you pronounce that?"[/color] Lilie asked.

Hayes stared at her for a moment, pursing his lips. [color=DEEB11]"I'll repeat it in the lab in a moment but I'll say it once. It is pronounced Tihl-toor-ay."[/color] Hayes clarified slowly. [color=DEEB11]"No one attempt it yet. A few more questions and then we'll move into the lab."[/color]

Admittedly, Aaron struggled to pay attention through the review portion of the lecture; not only had the return of sleepless days and growing stress over choosing an arcane major sucked the energy out of him, but Hayes had a talent for making a very interesting topic sound very… boring. Instead, he took to drawing a series of lazy swoops in the margins of a piece of scrap paper, mind wandering back to his new dream until the bob and weave of Lilie’s cute little puffball pen caught his attention instead.

He did come back to reality when Hayes switched to the topic of the night, sitting a little straighter and watching raptly as the professor showed off a series of shielding spells. Maybe defence would be a good major? If only he could convince himself; unfortunately, recent events made him feel like only one (unappealing) major would suffice. 

Aaron grinned to himself when the professor recited the Dark Eyes spell; he [i]knew[/i] learning latin as a teenager would come in handy somehow. He waited for Lilie’s question to be answered before holding up his own hand. [color=f0d705]“I have two questions, if I may,”[/color] he asked politely. [color=f0d705]“First, how does Dark Eyes interact with a light mage’s natural abilities? Is there any indication beyond the spell’s effect that it’s working?”[/color]

He glanced at his notes and back to Hayes. [color=f0d705]“Secondly, can arcane incantations be abbreviated if time is of the essence, or are we tied to lengthy casts?”[/color]

[color=DEEB11]“In practice, a light mage gains no benefit from the spell. Their natural ability to adapt to low light environment renders this spell obsolete. There are a few situations in which their instinctive magic is suppressed or otherwise unavailable so it is still a required spell.”[/color] Hayes explained. [color=DEEB11]“Our exercises and practicals will include an affinity resistant compound that reacts normally to arcane magic. This ink is known as Viatymbol for the bacteria it is extracted from. Each person will be given a piece of paper with a design written with Viatymbol and expected to use the Dark Eyes spell to determine the symbol. The solution will glow blue on the page.”[/color] Hayes looked unamused at the second question.

[color=DEEB11]“You are not to take shortcuts with magic. Ever. Simplifying your incantation risks failing the cast or worse, casting something else entirely.”[/color] Hayes said shortly, looking around for anymore questions and when he found none, he continued.

[color=DEEB11]“Now, we’ll move on to the practical exercises. Follow me into the next room.”[/color] He exited stage right, a flick of his wand and a door in the wall popped open. He flicked the lights on and revealed a room not unlike their spell mastery class. Tables with two chairs set around them were set in even rows through the dimly lit room. Each table had two pieces of parchment rolled up and a short divider that ran through the two tables. Each piece of parchment had a person’s name written on a small index card in front of them that also had the pattern and spell name on it. Hayes stepped to the end of the room and folded his arms behind his back. 

[color=DEEB11]“Find your seats quickly and quietly. For this exercise, each person will alternate between practicing and spotting. Those practicing, keep your pattern fixed firmly in your mind’s eye and visualize your magic flowing through it. Feel free to look at your reference material as necessary and incant firmly and slowly. Eventually, you’ll find the words come more naturally and quickly but for now, control is more important than speed. Your magic may resist at first; this is natural and try to refrain from struggling against it. Like any muscle, your magic may have to build up the strength to withstand the spell.”[/color] Hayes waited for people to settle before he continued. [color=DEEB11]“Spotters. Your job will be to look for tells of a successful casting. Black eyes and sudden sensitivity to light are the two mostly easily noticed signs. Once they have, you’ll hold your parchment up for them to read. Once you both have managed to successfully cast the spell consistently, you can verify that your partner was seeing the correct symbol on your parchment. This probably will not happen this class but everyone should be casting successfully within the next few days. Please begin.”[/color] 

Lilie tried to remember as much as she could, scribbling down notes until the last possible minute before promptly depositing everything into her bag. No abbreviations, pronounce it right, focus. Apparently, this was the time to learn just how behind everyone else she was going to end up. The ball of dread grew, and she ended up taking several long, deep breaths once they transitioned to the next room. She could do this. It was magic. She was [i]born[/i] with the ability even though she spent her entire life not knowing she could do it.

Man, she really needed to work on psyching herself up ‘cause she felt worse by the time she sat down.

The one small comfort was sitting next to a familiar face, except that was a complete lie because once the two sat down, the idea of embarrassing herself in front of her best friend dominated her thoughts. Aaron already held her hand through Treaty Law as it was. Was she just destined to suck at everything?

Suddenly feeling very shy, she cleared her throat as she turned to him. [color=00BFFF]“So, um, do you wanna go first?”[/color] She asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

Aaron followed into the practice room, a little pang of habitual dread as the furniture brought to mind so many tense exchanges with Salem in Affinity Mastery. But tonight, he had much more pleasant company, though he wasn’t blind to the fact that she seemed a little out of her element. At first he thought she might have just been homesick coming off the break, but by the way she spoke when they sat down, maybe it was the magic she was worried about.

He offered her a comforting smile, pretending not to notice her unease. [color=f0d705]“Sure, I can go first.”[/color] 

He took a moment before attempting his cast to set out the necessary materials, taking his card in hand and smoothing out the provided parchment on the table. Like Professor Hayes had said, his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting immediately, so his vision was clear; the parchment, however, remained blank. At least that would serve to tell him whether he succeeded or not.

He studied the pattern on the card for a moment, picturing what it would feel like to guide his magic along that path. It looked like it should be easy; light didn’t appreciate bending, but all of his affinity practice involved guiding his magic into a circular path for the light to follow. Same concept here, right? He’d been making spirals for weeks, he was practically an expert. 

When he closed his eyes and tried to do it, though, Aaron was met with unexpected resistance. His magic had never resisted him before; it had always been malleable and eager to please, its ‘will’ reflecting his own. But guiding his magic through the Dark Eyes symbol felt like herding crows; as soon as he thought he got part of it down, a different section sprang away from him, apparently unwilling to sit still. More than once he felt the familiar urge to draw in light from around him, almost doing it once or twice but managing to resist. 

After about a minute of fighting with it, he could feel the effort of wrangling his magic grow taxing. Still, he couldn’t let himself give up without at least one full try, so he got his magic as situated as he could manage and recited, clearly and slowly, [color=f0d705][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color]

His pronunciation was perfect, but as soon as the word left his mouth Aaron saw a painfully bright flash and his vision clouded with a large, blotchy afterimage. [color=f0d705]“Oh dear, I’m blind,”[/color] he chuckled good-naturedly, eyes open wide as he tried to blink away the splotches. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes were glowing yellow again, like they did when he practiced with his affinity. Still, he had to grin. [color=f0d705]“I don’t think that worked out.”[/color]

Lilie watched Aaron, though after a moment, she realized that nothing was going to happen until he spoke. Maybe he was focusing? Right, focus was a big part of it. She waited until he finally made an attempt, shrinking back a little as she noticed his reaction.

[color=00BFFF]"I think you used your affinity,"[/color] She told him. [color=00BFFF]"Your eyes glowed."[/color]

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. [color=f0d705]“Maybe,”[/color] he admitted. [color=f0d705]“I can get my magic to follow patterns just fine for that, but I think it wasn’t too fond of an arcane spell and reverted to old habits.”[/color]

He made it seem so easy, but he still failed. Well, the professor said to expect it, so it wasn't that bad to not get it right away. Lilie tried to subtly inspect Aaron, noticing his blinking. She wondered what the rebound did to him. Taking a quick look around, she could hear a few others giving it a go as well, several different kinds of reactions all ending in failure, too.

She turned back to Aaron. [color=00BFFF]"Feel like giving it another go?"[/color] She asked.

Looking around rapidly as his vision started to clear, Aaron shook his head again. [color=f0d705]“I think I’ll let you go next,”[/color] he offered. [color=f0d705]“To be honest, it’s… surprisingly taxing.”[/color] 

Oh no. Lilie thought she would have more time before trying! She forced a smile and nodded anyway, turning to her own parchment. Slowly unrolling it, she laid it flat on the table, her nerves creeping up on her. Okay, she could do this. This was just a door to a lot of other things, there was no need to worry about it. One step at a time, and she would have control. Nothing bad was going to happen. No one was going to get hurt.

With card in hand, Lilie brought her left index and middle finger together as she traced the pattern physically. At least that part didn't seem hard. Her magic bent easily, mimicking the movements of her fingers and giving her a much needed boost of confidence. Okay, now time to try.

Taking in a breath again, Lilie's face scrunched up in concentration. [color=00BFFF][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color] She probably said it quieter than she should have, but she didn't even get a chance to brace herself as a stinging sensation shot through her eyes. Squeezing her eyes shut, her free hand flew to her face, and to her surprise, she felt several tears flowing down her cheeks. It was even more than when she cried hard! Was this normal? She put down the card on the table as she tried to rub her eyes, the stinging ceasing, but the tears still flowing for a few more seconds.

When she finally looked up and at Aaron, she looked like she had exploded into sobs without any usual redness of puffiness. [color=00BFFF]"Uh--Uh I don't--oww…"[/color] She rubbed her eyes again, letting out a tiny whimper. 

The tears threw Aaron for a loop, but he reminded himself that it was just a side effect of her affinity. Still, he didn’t like to see Lilie in tears. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket - now sporting the Sinnenodel crest after Varis’ little wardrobe makeover - and offered it to her.

[color=f0d705]“Just like in the picture,”[/color] he commented, trying to keep things light. It was nothing to be ashamed of, after all. [color=f0d705]“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”[/color]

Lilie shook her head, opening and closing her eyes a few times until it went away. Exhaling a long breath, she gratefully took the handkerchief. [color=00BFFF]"It's like cutting an onion,"[/color] She explained, wiping her cheeks dry and carefully dabbing at the corners of her eyes. [color=00BFFF]"I used to hate dicing a lot of them, they always made me tear up and I'd have to take a small break just so I could see."[/color]

Aaron nodded, though admittedly he didn’t have a clue what that felt like. When had he ever had occasion to cut an onion? He knew how to fry eggs, toast toast, and pop popcorn, but that was about it. 

[color=f0d705]“Oh, yeah, that’s the worst,”[/color] he lied, feigning understanding. It was simple little moments like these where he really felt the consequences of his sheltered upbringing. [color=f0d705]“Peppers do that to me too, it’s so annoying.”[/color] 

Lilie blinked a few times, her mouth slightly opened, but after the moment ended, she burst into a fit of giggles. She quickly covered her mouth as she noticed how loud she was, shaking her head at Aaron. [color=00BFFF]"That's...that's a good one,"[/color] She admitted as she calmed down, her grin wide. [color=00BFFF]"You're so funny!"[/color]

As she calmed herself and looked down at the handkerchief, fingers tracing the stitched symbol. It had a nice silver color to it, different than the other blue one that he had lent her before. Her expression fell slightly as she noticed that it didn't have the Noilan symbol on it, instead it had the Sinnenodel one. It was then that she realized she never did return the blue one, or even the gold one that he had lent her after they had gone to the arena!

[color=00BFFF]"Oh no, did you run out of the other ones?"[/color] She asked, feeling guilty as she showed him the symbol.

Aaron forced a laugh as Lilie did, jotting down a mental note that he was probably wrong and that peppers probably didn’t make people cry and eagerly moving right along. He watched her examine his new handkerchief, spinning his ring. 

[color=f0d705]“Oh, no no,”[/color] he half-lied; he didn’t exactly run out, but he didn’t exactly have them anymore either. [color=f0d705]“Master just took the opportunity over break to… update my wardrobe.”[/color] Yeah, that was a gentler way of putting it than telling her that Varis made him burn the clothes he came with. Aaron painted on a smile and opened his arms, showing off his new clothes. He’d chosen the most formal outfit he could come up with tonight, a black button-up and slacks, though he knew sooner or later he’d have to ease himself out of his comfort zone and into the more casual clothes Varis insisted he wear. [color=f0d705]“I’m practically a new man.”[/color] 

Her lips formed a small 'o' as she looked him up and down. His outfit was darker than she was used to, but it still suited him nicely. It was flattering to his already good figure, and while it completely contrasted his usual colors, she found herself liking it. There was a thought that maybe his count was trying to bring his fashion sense to this century, but she kept that to herself. As she met his eyes, she nodded in approval. [color=00BFFF]"Good thing you're hot enough to look good in anything,"[/color] She teased, pulling at the collar of her own blouse. 

At least Count Sinnenodel got Aaron flattering clothes, she looked like she just came home from one of those stuffy private schools. The black turtleneck covered her from wrist to neck, the brown, billowing skirt easily reaching her ankles. Even the Eve pendant reminded her of one of those rich old ladies who liked to drink wine and gossip. Aaron’s comment on castle attire was something her count decided was a great idea, the outfit making her feel ancient. Oh well.

For now, she brushed it aside as she crossed one leg over the other, her hand fiddling with the silver pendant she had been gifted. Her thumb ran over the rubies as she sighed. [color=00BFFF]"At least thanks to you I talked to the count and I'm getting some stuff that isn't so plain,"[/color] She told him cheerfully, lightly dabbing at her eyes with her free hand. [color=00BFFF]"I know you probably agree with him, but I really don't want to look like I'm sixty years old. I'm only eighteen!"[/color]

Aaron’s ears burned at the compliment, and suddenly he felt much less disdainful of his wardrobe changes. The mention of Lilie and Count Benjamin working things out lifted his spirits further, too; he really didn’t think the Count had cruel intentions at heart, and he was secretly glad that Lilie was coming to terms with dressing appropriately for a mage of her station. Still, he couldn’t help but laugh at her comment.

[color=f0d705]“If you thought those clothes made you look sixty, you must have thought I was two-hundred!”[/color] he joked, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. He realized he was beginning to sound like Varis, going on about how his Noilan clothes were outdated, but this time it didn’t feel as… mean. [color=f0d705]“I’m happy the two of you could reach a compromise.”[/color]

[color=00BFFF]"Only thanks to you,"[/color] Lilie replied sincerely, her expression dropping a touch as she looked down at the handkerchief. If only her brother could agree. But she didn't want to think about that right now, instead deciding to confess to her crime. [color=00BFFF]"And...I haven't been the best friend to you. I keep stealing your handkerchiefs and never returning them!"[/color] She smiled bashfully. [color=00BFFF]"I still have the blue one from Revel [i]and[/i] the gold one from when we saw each other at the arena. You're gonna have to start charging me or something for always keeping them!"[/color]

Lilie’s gratefulness did nothing to stem the flush in Aaron’s ears, but he allowed himself only a moment to savour it before tucking it away to be reflected upon later. Her admission brought his grin back, and he laughed, shaking his head. 

[color=f0d705]“Don’t worry about it,”[/color] he insisted, holding up a hand. [color=f0d705]“I certainly have no shortage of them.”[/color] Not to mention that Varis would have a fit if he caught him with Noila colours again. Besides, there was something… gratifying about knowing Lilie held on to something of his. 

[color=DEEB11]"I take it you both have sufficient mastery over the Dark Eyes spell?"[/color] Hayes interrupted, looking decidedly unimpressed at the pair's sudden interest in socializing. [color=DEEB11]"And if you haven't, I would request you return your focus to the task at hand. I doubt our audience up above is as interested in your social life as they are your magical  progress. Let's see a demonstration, Mr. Starag, and then we'll see how Ms. Dionne is doing."[/color]

Lilie jumped in place, clearly not expecting the professor, and she gave him a sheepish look. [color=00BFFF]"I'm sorry, sir, we just needed to recharge a little,"[/color] She tried to explain. [color=00BFFF]"I wasn't expecting it to backfire so hard."[/color]

Aaron was startled too, and a lifetime of teachers with rulers and sticks made him sit a little straighter and speak a little clearer. That, and the reminder that Varis was up somewhere in the stands, judging his every move. [color=f0d705]“Yes, beg your pardon. We just got a little side-tracked.”[/color] 

Clearing his throat, Aaron took up his index card again, focusing hard on the symbol. With the pressure on, he found his magic more willing to cooperate, though it still vibrated with excited unrest as he tried to guide it through the pattern. [color=f0d705][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color]

While this cast was painless and lacking the eye-glowing from before, it still wasn’t successful. Instead, all colour drained from the room, and the parchment on the table remained decidedly blank. [color=f0d705]“Not quite, but better than before…”[/color] Aaron admitted, looking up at a black-and-white Hayes. [color=f0d705]“My magic seems a little preoccupied, but it’s starting to cooperate.”[/color] 

Hayes’ expression didn’t change. [color=DEEB11]“All the more reason to continue practicing. Ms. Dionne, if you would.”[/color]

The girl sat up immediately when addressed, quickly snatching up the index card. Should she do the same thing and try to get advice? But repeating her mistake would be pretty embarrassing. Her two fingers traced the symbol, giving her a feel for it, but she had no idea what to do differently. Even now, it all felt familiar, but that couldn't be right. Her affinity let her magic flow freely so that wasn't a problem, but it was almost like a really clingy friend that wanted to go with her everywhere. Maybe she could try pushing it away?

Despite knowing it would end in failure, Lilie braced herself this time. She placed the index card down, her fingers drawing the pattern before she uttered, [color=00BFFF][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color] She visibly winced as she squeezed her eyes shut again, using Aaron's handkerchief to try to stop some of the tears coming out.

[color=DEEB11]“Failure is the harbinger of success. Focus and determination are the key to successfully separating your affinity from your magic. Needless social distractions can wait until you’ve exited my classroom.”[/color] Hayes said, continuing more quietly. [color=DEEB11]“Next time you need a moment to compose yourself, I suggest you keep the topic of your conversation firmly in this classroom and on the spell at hand. I understand teenagers have a propensity for indecorous conversation but I’m sure you both understand your positions demand a higher degree of composure.”[/color] 

[color=DEEB11]“Now Ms. Dionne,”[/color] Hayes voice raised to normal levels once as he changed the subject, [color=DEEB11]“I take it your second attempt was nearly identical to your first? Would you please walk me through your experience?”[/color]

Sheepishly keeping her gaze on the desk whenever she didn’t have tears pouring out, Lilie threw Aaron an apologetic look. She wasn’t used to getting in trouble, but of course Professor Hayes was right. Goodness, she needed to get a hold of herself, she was a good noodle! When he raised his voice, Lilie reluctantly looked up at him. 

She put Aaron’s handkerchief down and picked the index card back up, placing her fingers on the pattern. [color=00BFFF]“Um, yeah. But I don’t really know what I’m doing wrong,”[/color] She admitted, tracing the path. [color=00BFFF]“I can feel my magic going in the direction I want, but then the spell is just...not working.”[/color]  

[color=DEEB11]"It seems you're treating this like your affinity mastery class. Your magic shouldn't feel comfortable when you cast it. It should be struggling or feel bland at first."[/color] Hayes frowned as he considered it. [color=DEEB11]"Some water students in the past have found visualising the aids as filters rather than traceable patterns helps like when you separate impurities from water. Your magic stays in the pattern while the affinity drains away on the other side."[/color]

Lilie stared blankly at Hayes as he spoke. What? Wasn't it the same? Her gaze slowly dropped to the index card as she bit her lip. She figured this is what the textbooks and lessons talked about. Well, she wasn't the first primary student, so obviously this was just something she had to do. 

With that in mind, Lilie scrunched up her face in concentration. So all she had to do was what she had been doing, just without her affinity. As the thought crossed her mind, though, she found her magic actively resisting her. Her eyes widened before she narrowed them, focusing on the path, but it was like her affinity was forcibly tagging along. That couldn't be right, could it? Was she doing something wrong?

[color=00BFFF]"It won't let me,"[/color] She muttered, shoulders tensing as she struggled. [color=00BFFF]"It's like...it's being super clingy!"[/color]

[color=DEEB11]"Primary affinities do display an increased resistance to arcane magic. The instinctual connection works against you here. Now that you've found the proper path, you'll just need to continue practicing until your magic doesn't fight you constantly."[/color] Hayes confirmed. [color=DEEB11]"Continue practicing and stay on task. Understood?"[/color]

Lilie visibly deflated. So [i]this[/i] is the primary affinity struggle. She should’ve known it was too easy to go through the pattern. She quietly nodded and offered no response, deciding to focus on the pattern on the index card. Well, they definitely wouldn’t get in trouble for talking now—Lilie did [i]not[/i] want to fall behind. She wasn’t going to settle on anything less than perfection, and she wasn’t going to let something stupid like her own dumb water magic stop her.

Aaron was glad that Hayes directed his attention to Lilie, that little reprimand having brought the heat back to his ears once more as he redirected his attention to his index card, doing his best not to look as embarrassed as he felt. It reminded him far too much of the lectures Count Julian used to give him as a teenager when he caught his gaze lingering too long on female staff, hammering in the importance of maintaining a comportement appropriate for his station and keeping his ‘urges’ in check. Aaron suppressed a shudder. No matter how many times he’d heard it - and he’d heard it a lot - it never got any less uncomfortable. Inwardly he slapped himself. Hadn’t he left this childish ogling behind in his teen years? 

After using Hayes’ conversation with Lilie to collect himself, Aaron nodded up at the professor. [color=f0d705]“Understood,”[/color] he confirmed quietly. He continued to study his pattern until Hayes had occupied himself at another table. 

[color=f0d705]“I think I’ll give it another try,”[/color] he said, taking a deep breath. By now he had the pattern memorized; all that was left was to convince his magic to calmly go through it. 

Chastened by Hayes’ reprimand, Aaron closed his eyes and took a more stern approach to his magic this time, ultimately pleased by the result. His magic simmered down considerably, following the path set out for it with relative ease and this time, without tugging so much at the light around it. He could still feel a restlessness, but it was much more subdued, and it felt as if his magic was starting to ‘click’ with the idea of operating sans affinity. [color=f0d705][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color]

Aaron didn’t feel any backlash this time, but when he opened his eyes, the room looked just as it had before. He was ready to let go of his concentration in disappointment until he glanced to the parchment. To his surprise - and satisfaction - it was no longer blank, instead sporting an ornate drawing of a tree with a wide canopy and outstretched roots. 

[color=f0d705]“Oh!”[/color] he exclaimed, glancing rapidly between Lilie and the parchment, [color=f0d705]“I think I got it!”[/color]

Lilie had been so absorbed in trying to make [i]some[/i] progress that she jumped at Aaron’s exclamation, eyes wide as she looked at him. As soon as she registered what he said, a mix of excitement and disappointment clashed together. He got it already? She couldn’t even get her magic to cooperate past the first curve! 

Catching herself, she lowered the index card to her lap. [color=00BFFF]“That’s great!”[/color] She congratulated him, slightly taken aback by his eyes. Shoot, that was actually a little scary! [color=00BFFF]“Ah...you have the eyes and everything, too.”[/color] She confirmed, squinting. [color=00BFFF]“Does...does it hurt?”[/color] She knew it was a silly question, but goodness, it looked so [i]off[/i]. 

Aaron glanced excitedly around the room as Lilie spoke, eyeing symbols on parchments from nearby tables happily. At the mention of his eyes, he pulled out his phone and turned on the front-facing camera, wanting to get a look at himself. What he saw—his own face unchanged but for his eyes having turned pitch black—actually startled him.

[color=f0d705]“Oh, wow,”[/color] he breathed, turning his face this way and that with eyes on the screen. Yep, he could definitely see where the spell had gotten its name. It was creepy; he’d seen his eyes fully yellow before from using his affinity, but he’d never seen [i]just[/i] the iris change, and certainly not to [i]black.[/i] He offhandedly remarked how this was what he would probably look like if he was a vampire and angry, though he pocketed his phone at that discomforting thought. 

Looking back up to Lilie, he shook his head. [color=f0d705]“No, not even a little,”[/color] he assured her, offering a smile. [color=f0d705]“It’s interesting, though,”[/color] he continued, [color=f0d705]“everything looks exactly the same as before, the only difference is the symbol.”[/color] He tapped the parchment. 

She followed his tapping before slowly looking back at the index card. He got it so fast. Why wouldn’t her magic just listen? Of course, she knew the answer to that, as her fears were ultimately coming true. It was disheartening, but it couldn’t be helped, she supposed.

Narrowing her eyes, she decided to try again. Pulling her magic along felt like trying to swim with someone actively pulling her down. Her affinity just would not let her do anything without it! It was actually starting to get on her nerves, feeling like she was playing tug-of-war with a really strong, immature child. No matter how much she pulled, she felt just as much resistance. Trying not to pull so much gave the same amount of pulling back, so that didn’t help. 

Despite her frustration mounting, she made a last ditch attempt at a cast. [color=00BFFF][i]“Tiltoure[/i]--ow!”[/color] She winced, nearly doubling over. Oh, that one hurt a lot more than last time. She blinked repeatedly as she rubbed her eyes, letting out a sigh. [color=00BFFF]“I’m not very good at this.”[/color] She mumbled.

Lilie’s shout made Aaron lose his concentration, and a soreness like eye strain bloomed behind his eyes as the spell suddenly dropped. Squeezing his eyes shut for a second, the pain was quick to fade, and he turned his attention to Lilie. 

[color=f0d705]“Try not to be discouraged,”[/color] he told her gently. [color=f0d705]“Like the professor said, it’s to be expected. You just need a little time.”[/color]

Slowly blinking, Lilie looked at Aaron with one eye while she held the other one closed. Too much pulling and [i]that[/i] would happen. That failure hurt, though she wasn’t sure if it was the physical pain or her own ego that was hurt more. She let out a slight huff, slowly nodding as she looked back down and waited for the pain to subside. 

[color=00BFFF]“If I take my time, I’m going to fall behind,”[/color] She told him as she kept her eyes closed. [color=00BFFF]“I mean, I’m already behind as it is. I just have to try harder.”[/color] She insisted.

Aaron shook his head. [color=f0d705]“You can’t rush this sort of thing,”[/color] he patiently insisted, subtly noticing the irony. He’d been the same way when he first Awakened; he could understand the urgency, but it was ultimately for nought. 

[color=f0d705]“My aunt has a primary-presenting affinity and she had trouble with arcane magic too,”[/color] he mentioned, hoping an example from a family like his might help Lilie not to feel self-conscious. [color=f0d705]“It will come, but if you push too hard you’ll only hurt yourself.”[/color] 

Lilie slowly opened her eyes to look at Aaron, although she averted her gaze for a moment. It was hard to admit it, but she felt like she had something to prove, like she was here for a reason. Not helping matters was the small voice in her head telling her that she needed to keep up with Aaron, and she would be lying if she said there wasn’t a tiny ounce of her that had hoped she would have had the edge here. But that was not the case; once again, he bested her. Oh well. 

[color=00BFFF]“Yeah, I’ll try to slow down, that really hurt,”[/color] She said, returning to her first exercise and slowly tracing the symbol with her fingers as she pulled her magic along at a slower pace. She paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her, wondering if she should ask, but she didn’t want to get them in trouble. She quickly looked around to make sure Professor Hayes wasn’t close before asking, [color=00BFFF]“If I never catch up...do you think they’ll throw me away?”[/color]

Aaron was taken aback, the unexpected question stirring a few of his own anxieties to the surface. Part of him had no idea where Lilie would get such an idea. Did mundane schools expel students who didn’t meet academic standards or something? Or was she worried about her House rather than the Academy? His knee-jerk reaction was to tell her that no, of course they wouldn’t, that even mages who couldn’t ever control their affinity were outfitted with obsidian safety collars rather than tossed to the wayside outright; unfortunately, what with his own circumstances… well, sometimes he didn’t know what to believe. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that. That was more a ‘him’ problem than anything.

[color=f0d705]“Of course not,”[/color] Aaron told Lilie instead, his tone hushed, but unequivocal. [color=f0d705]“Princess Ryner hand-picks every student in her academy, and she would sooner stake herself for the sun than forsake a single one of them.”[/color] That he did know to be true. [color=f0d705]“You were brought here for a reason, and a little delay in arcane magic isn’t going to change that. Plus, I doubt you have anything to fear with your Count either.”[/color] 

He offered Lilie a comforting smile, but leaned a little forward and glanced pointedly to the observation balcony, hoping Lilie would get the message. He lowered his voice to a whisper. [color=f0d705]“Still, it’s probably best to keep those concerns out of these classrooms, okay?”[/color]

Lilie wished she could say that she was comforted, but she honestly completely forgot about the observation balcony. Her face flushed red with embarrassment, pointedly looking back down at the index card and repeating her tracing. [color=00BFFF]“...R-right. I'll just...keep practicing...”[/color] She sighed. Great, like Count Benjamin needed [i]another[/i] reason to think she was hopeless. She didn’t dare look up, focusing entirely on the pattern. Honestly, she couldn’t admit that she secretly hoped being a bad mage meant she got to go home, but maybe that was too much to ask for.

But what possible reason could the princess want her here for?

She shook her head at herself, disguising it as a little frustration at her uncooperative magic. If she started thinking about that again, she was going to give herself another panic attack. Going home wasn’t an option, so she would just have to try. She wondered if slowly pulling her magic along would be easier. She couldn’t tell if it was more or less effective, still feeling the resistance. Stupid water affinity. If Aaron could do it, then that meant she should be able to get it by now, too.

[color=00BFFF]“I’m going to try again,”[/color] Lilie said, concentrating to the best of her ability. [color=00BFFF]“Can’t let you make me look bad!”[/color] She joked, squinting at the card. Slowly, she pulled her magic through the pattern again, focusing on pulling it away from her affinity. [color=00BFFF][i]“Tiltoure.”[/i][/color] She muttered, bracing herself for the inevitable sting. At the very least she wasn’t gushing tears anymore, but clearly she wasn’t using enough magic. 

Aaron chuckled at the joke and went back to practicing as Lilie did. It seemed his magic had figured out the arcane thing, no longer resisting separating from his affinity and flowing through the pattern readily. His next cast was successful again, and this time Aaron held it longer, noting the subtle difference in how it felt to maintain an arcane spell rather than an affinity exercise. After about a minute or two, he felt his stamina start to slip, and noticed the same pressure behind his eyes as he had when he’d dropped the spell by accident the first time. It interested him how much more taxing it felt to maintain the arcane spell compared to affinity magic; he could reliably get through an entire one-on-one session of Affinity Mastery with minimal fatigue, and was getting stronger every night, while this spell had tired him in a matter of minutes. Still, he was heartened by his existing improvement. If that was any indication, he imagined his stamina would pick up pretty quick here, too. All the better if Varis was going to be watching. 
[/hider]
[hider=10/18: Ben & Aaron]
[center]Second Impression[/center]
Aaron checked the time purely out of habit; it was the middle of the night on Saturday and he’d gotten his duties out of the way early, with nothing left on his schedule but one last errand before a morning of doing his best to study. But he was used to keeping to a schedule, doing things in a timely fashion, and in his state, sliding into routine and checking things off a mental list was a welcome distraction. 

For the time being, he focused on his task: washing dishes. It was a chore he never particularly minded—really, the only chore he especially disliked was ironing—though tonight was a bit of a mixed bag. Usually he enjoyed tedious work like this, as he found turning his mind off and going through the motions relaxing, but tonight the mindless work seemed to do the opposite. Whenever his mind wandered, it always wandered to the same place: A sunlit manor with a bubbling fountain and a familiar face, buried deep and unwelcome in the woods in his head. Every time he heard Varis mumble to himself from where he was grading papers in the study, he saw that horrible masked figure in the candlelight, heard that same voice whisper frightening nonsense to him in a pagoda on the beach. And each time he tried to tear his mind away and refocus, he could feel the stress wear on him a little more, unable to shake the feeling of [i]wrongness[/i] in his head. 

Setting the last cup aside to dry, Aaron reached for the last dirty dish, bigger than the rest. It was Lilie’s cake platter, still dirty with a few crumbs and a bit of strawberry icing, and when he saw it, Aaron finally came out of his head a little to smile. It had been so thoughtful of her; he’d mentioned offhandedly that his birthday was coming up and the next thing he knew, Lilie was on his doorstep on the 15th with this beautiful strawberry cake. Even more astounding was that Varis had let him keep it. He looked like he’d been ready to tell Aaron to throw it out until the scent hit him, and he agreed to let Aaron keep it so long as he could get rid of it in a timely fashion. That was certainly no problem. The thing was [i]delicious[/i]. 

Aaron smirked. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to think so. He knew Varis liked the smell of sweets, but what he hadn’t expected was to find a swipe of icing missing and the Count retching in his bathroom, insisting he was fine. Aaron almost wanted to convey the compliment to Lilie—it wasn’t every baker who could entice a pureblood to try eating—but he figured it was best to save Varis the embarrassment. He had plenty of mortal praise to heap on her anyway. 

Setting aside the rest of the dishes to dry and be polished later, Aaron drained the sink and dried the cake platter by hand, ensuring there were no streaks before going to change. He’d slowly been getting accustomed to his new wardrobe, and as much as his troubling encounter with Hannah made him want to crawl right back into his old habits, conservative suits in mild colours were sadly no longer an option. Instead, he decided to try and be a little daring, remembering how Lilie seemed to like the new, more ‘stylish’ changes. Maybe she’d like a pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved button-up, too. 

…Maybe with a vest. He was going to a Count’s dorm, after all. 

He stole a glance in the mirror as he left his room and concluded that while he [i]did[/i] look a little tired, it could probably be written off as him putting a little extra effort into affinity practice or something. Which he [i]had[/i], although the faint circles under his eyes would be more accurately attributed to the days of fitful sleep he’d been suffering since his meeting. Though, honestly, she might not even notice. Since coming to the Academy, fatigue had become a recurring feature on his face. 

He got little more than a hum in acknowledgement when he informed Varis through the study door that he’d be heading next door for a few minutes, and without further delay Aaron was on his way. He climbed the steps to the Eve dorm with more enthusiasm than he’d enjoyed in some time, but took a second (as he always did) to put on his polite face before he knocked. 

There was a moment of time before the door opened courtesy of Benjamin Eve. The previously concentrated expression fell to an ill-conceived joy, the count composing himself a few seconds later than he should have. He assumed that he would be receiving a package, but the visitor on his doorstep was much more welcome. The young Starag looked a little worse for wear, perhaps in need of a decent night's sleep, but his more casual attire pointed to being off duty. Or at least, that was his assumption.

[color=C0C0C0]"Good evening, Mr. Starag,"[/color] Ben greeted him kindly. [color=C0C0C0]"How do you do?"[/color] 

The Count behind the door took Aaron by surprise, though it seemed at the feeling was mutual. Aaron collected himself a little quicker than the Count seemed to, though, and offered the vampire a bow. 

[color=f0d705]“Good evening, Count Benjamin,”[/color] he greeted politely in turn, [color=f0d705]“I’m well, and you?”[/color]

He snuck a quick glance past the Count into the dorm before returning his attention, surprised to see no sign of Lilie. Of course, maybe he shouldn’t have been. If Lilie were home, surely it would have been her answering the door. 

[color=f0d705]“Pardon me for disturbing you, I thought Lilie was in,”[/color] he explained, producing the cake platter. [color=f0d705]“I was just looking to return this to her.”[/color] 

Ben recalled the making of the pastry as he had walked into the madness that was baking in the kitchen. For some reason, that level of disaster coming from the neat mage had been a sight to behold, but that was neither her nor there. He was surprised that the recipient hadn't returned the platter with cake in hand but he supposed even the Sinnenodel count couldn't find fault in the fruity flavored dish. Nonetheless he was glad for the mage's timely arrival, even if it was obvious who he was here for. Perhaps he could tempt him into coming into the dorm with something? It was as good a chance as any, after all, but he feared without his mage around, he would soon rather drop off the platter and take his leave.

[color=C0C0C0]"It's no trouble at all,"[/color] Ben replied slowly, looking back into the dorm. What could he say to help convince him? He could not offer him a cup of blood, but he could offer him something else! [color=C0C0C0]"I don't suppose I could ask for a small favor from you, could I?"[/color] He suddenly asked, invigorated by the idea.

Aaron was admittedly a little taken aback, and for a moment almost refused. Things hadn’t ended well the last time Count Benjamin asked something of him, though Aaron couldn’t blame him for that. He’d dug his own hole that time, but this time he didn’t have a curfew creeping up on him, or really much of a time limit at all. And he supposed it wasn’t [i]that[/i] strange a request; maybe Count Benjamin just wanted him to relay a message to Varis. 

He checked his watch, more out of habit than anything. [color=f0d705]“Oh, I suppose,”[/color] he replied, looking up at the Count. [color=f0d705]“What can I do for you?”[/color]

Ben tried not to show his excitement at Aaron's acceptance as he kept his cool. He placed both hands behind his back in an attempt to show some pause, crinkling his expression. [color=C0C0C0]"Well, you see, I've come across a new hobby that is proving exceedingly difficult,"[/color] He decided he would explain himself so as not to make it an obligation; he truly meant well and would rather have some semblance of trust between the two. [color=C0C0C0]"I've been trying to learn how to make tea."[/color] The announcement was a touch more grandiose then intended.

Aaron’s eyebrows raised a touch, though he was as careful as ever to keep his responses measured in noble company. First Varis with frosting, and now Count Benjamin with tea; was this normal for young purebloods? Aaron thought he knew the ins and outs of vampires, more or less, but this was new. 

[color=f0d705]“Oh, how interesting,”[/color] he replied smoothly, holding back his curiosity for the moment. Curiosity, and the overwhelming oddness of the situation at large. [color=f0d705]“Is that what you’d like me to help with?”[/color]

Ben had probably just made a fool of himself, only just realizing how the entire affair must have sounded. A pure blood had no use for anything that wasn't blood. He could feel Aaron's interest slipping quickly. There must be something more convincing he could use. [color=C0C0C0]"Indeed. Of course, I understand if you would rather not,"[/color] He spoke slowly as he bought himself a little time, coming to a decision on the fly. [color=C0C0C0]"But I can only ask for mortal help at this point. I would ask my own mage, but it wouldn't be prudent to spoil the surprise."[/color] That wasn't entirely a lie, either; he [i]did[/i] initially decide to take a stab at tea-making for her sake, but she had openly spoke of how odd that decision was. But it would be beneficial if he did succeed! 

[color=f0d705]“Oh, I see.”[/color] Now [i]that[/i] made a lot more sense. Aaron still found it a little bit odd for a Count to go to such trouble for his mage, but given what he’d heard of Count Benjamin as an advocate for mage rights, not entirely unexpected. [color=f0d705]“That’s very thoughtful of you, Count.”[/color] 

Aaron teetered on the edge of a decision for a moment. Varis had made clear his disdain for donating time—[i]his[/i] time, as he was so fond of reminding him—with no promise of recompense, but… maybe he could justify it as repayment for the cake. Not wanting Count Benjamin to feel like something was owed to him. Yes, that would work nicely. One kindness for another, and no one left indebted. 

Mind made up, Aaron nodded. [color=f0d705]“How can I help?”[/color]

Ben stepped back as he gestured inside the dorm. [color=C0C0C0]"You could be my tester as a start,"[/color] He joked.

Aaron grinned, dipping his head and following the Count inside. Again, it was strange to be in another noble’s dorm, but at least this visit lacked the palpable awkwardness of the last one. A tiny fear that he was about to be poisoned nagged at the back of his head, but Aaron doubted any tensions between House Eve and Sinnenodel were severe enough to kill him over, especially considering that would also antagonize the royal family, and House Eve was certainly not stable enough to withstand that. 

At least, Aaron [i]thought[/i] it would anger the Noilas; these nights, though, he found he couldn’t be sure. 

He pushed that thought aside with the others and accompanied the Count to the kitchen, placing the cake platter on the counter before giving Benjamin his full attention. [color=f0d705]“Okay…”[/color] he began, realizing he wasn’t entirely sure how to initiate this sort of exchange. He was very used to receiving instruction from vampires, but definitely not the other way around. [color=f0d705]“Is… there any particular part of the process giving you trouble, Count Benjamin?”[/color]

Ben carefully walked around Aaron and to the stove where the latest cup sat, still steaming. He took it and offered it to the mage. [color=C0C0C0]"I believe the instructions stated that the best way to make tea is to boil the water and then to soak in the leaves afterwards,"[/color] He said, explaining his process. [color=C0C0C0]"Some places suggest grounding out the leaves, others state placing them into tiny bags is best, but I felt I would try with the entirety of the leaf in order to enrich the water with flavor."[/color] He seemed proud of himself as he spoke even though he had absolutely no idea which way was actually best.

Aaron took the cup, nodding as Count Benjamin spoke. The tea he was given was weak, leaves still swirling and free of any kind of filter. Ah-ha. Aaron wasn’t much of a tea drinker himself, but his mother and one of his aunts practically made a hobby out of it ever since they started having weekly get-togethers with William, and he’d picked up a working knowledge of tea from their conversations. At the very least, he knew enough to tell that the Count had his work cut out for him. 

[color=f0d705]“I see,”[/color] Aaron said slowly, still examining the cup for a moment before looking back up. [color=f0d705]“Well, grinding certainly isn’t necessary; the leaves you have here seem fine. Whether you bag them or not is personal preference, but you’ll want to filter the leaves from the tea somehow, either with a fibre bag or a metal strainer. Otherwise drinking it can feel like eating grass.”[/color] He chuckled a bit, but remembered himself, a little self-conscious. Was he over-explaining? It wouldn’t do to insult the Count’s intelligence, but he really did seem clueless on the topic. 

Best to move along. [color=f0d705]“What variety of tea is this?”[/color]

Ben was attentive to the criticism received; he hoped he had something positive to bring, but alas, it seemed he had much to learn. This was, of course, a positive for the moment, as Aaron felt the need to explain how to properly blend the flavor into the water. He matched Aaron's chuckle, as he had definitely thought it odd that mortals would enjoy what was essentially water with leaves. But he did see Lilie drink a cup, and apparently it was popular enough, and so there they were.

He took the package of leaves in hand and squinted at it as he tried to remember the name of the leaves. [color=C0C0C0]"I believe these are dried white peony leaves, they're commonly served among the mages under me,"[/color] He recalled placing the order. [color=C0C0C0]"I read somewhere that it had a refined taste. After the...fiasco my partner and I experienced, I think slowly easing her into a life of nobility one task at a time would help smooth the transition."[/color] He almost believed that himself had it not been for Lilie adamantly protesting nearly every change he had made, but Aaron didn't need to know that. 

Aaron nodded again, remembering how upset Lilie had been. Good, he was glad that the Count really had taken her concerns to heart. She needed someone understanding to guide her and he was pleased to see that she was lucky enough to finally be paired with someone who would consider that. 

[color=f0d705]“That’s smart,”[/color] he complimented, looking back down at the cup. Frankly, he was surprised that he chose a white tea—from what he heard from his mother, it took some getting used to—but if that was what his household was accustomed to, all the better that Lilie got used to it. [color=f0d705]“I think you’re right, Count. Although, if I may, it might be prudent to have a backup plan.”[/color] He gestured to the cup. [color=f0d705]“My own mother told me white tea took some getting used to, and while I admit I can’t say if that’s normal or unique to us—”[/color] a bashful expression crossed his face for a second as he was again reminded how far removed from other mages he really was, [color=f0d705]“—it might be a good idea to have a different type on standby in case Lilie doesn’t take to it right away.”[/color] 

Ben hadn't considered that possibility. There were a good dozen different teas served in the castle alone. It seemed like the smallest oversight, but that was precisely why he needed mortal input. There was the added bonus of the subject being one where Aaron was well versed, and it did give him an odd comfort to see the mage at ease. He sincerely appreciated everything he said, but simply taking the advice would end the visit prematurely—he couldn't let him run just yet.

Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notepad with a pencil looped through the binding. Flipping to an empty page, he looked to Aaron for his expertise. [color=C0C0C0]"What do you recommend?"[/color] He asked simply. 

Aaron was surprised to see Count Benjamin whip out a notepad; he supposed in the back of his mind, it was just weird to see a vampire apparently hanging on his every word. The Count must have really taken Lilie’s concerns to heart if he was going to such lengths to make her feel more comfortable; he’d have to ask her later what exactly she told him that had such an effect. 

[color=f0d705]“A black tea would probably be best,”[/color] he recommended, recalling the few times he’d joined his mother and Dora on their little tea dates. He’d be the first to admit that his palate was garbage, and he always found he couldn’t taste much in the more delicate teas they tried, but black teas could always be made to work. [color=f0d705]“They have much stronger flavours, and they can be sweetened as well if she prefers. They’re a good option if Lilie finds this one too subtle.”[/color]

Ben carefully wrote down everything Aaron said. Black tea first. That seemed easy enough to remember. He tapped the page with his pencil, staring at it. He wondered if perhaps ordering an entire variety would be best. The academy would surely provide. He gave Aaron a grateful smile as he stowed away the notepad for the moment. He was about to thank him when he realized that he would likely leave. What more could he say to get him to stay?

[color=C0C0C0]"Your insight is wonderful, thank you,"[/color] Ben started. [color=C0C0C0]"If you don't mind, perhaps I could bother you with a few more questions? It won't take much of your time."[/color] And hopefully he would take his time deliberating so Ben could think of any questions. 

Aaron dipped his head politely at the praise. [color=f0d705]“My pleasure, Count.”[/color] 

The added questions were a surprise; Aaron figured he covered everything pretty well, though he could always be wrong. Strangely though, he was starting to feel like Count Benjamin was… stalling. Was he trying to keep him here for some reason? Aaron didn’t sense any malice, but he felt like the vampire’s principal concern wasn’t tea. Maybe he was biding time until Lilie got home from wherever she was? Or maybe this was just how this Count was; he’d shown the same reluctance to let Aaron leave at Revel as well. 

He checked his watch. Varis usually lost track of time while he was grading; it was probably fine. [color=f0d705]“Of course,”[/color] he obliged. [color=f0d705]“What would you like to know?”[/color]

Ben was elated to hear the acceptance, but he had unintentionally put himself in a difficult position. What did he want to know? There were very few questions that he could ask that didn't come off as patronizing or made him look like a complete fool. Perhaps he could ask for advice on how to handle Lilie, but if Aaron told her, that would possibly stir up trouble in their relationship; while he was certain they were steady, he didn't want to undo all the progress that they made. He should just say the very first thing that came to mind.

[color=C0C0C0]"I was wondering for a little advice on...magic,"[/color] He chose a random topic he had absolutely no prior knowledge on, but what could he possibly ask? [color=C0C0C0]"It's certainly a curious thing."[/color] He realized that was not a question the moment he left his lips, and he mentally chastised himself. He could come up with responses on being interviewed during his father's dinners but couldn't come up with a simple question to ask a mage without tipping him off? 

Magic? What? Aaron kept his expression carefully neutral and attentive, but he was getting more and more… [i]concerned[/i] for this Count by the second. He knew some of the other Eves at the Academy had been strange, but surely it couldn’t be [i]all[/i] of them, right? 

[color=f0d705]“It certainly is...”[/color] Aaron assented slowly, a little at a loss for words. If he didn’t know any better he’d think Count Benjamin was lonely and just longing for someone to talk to, but disregarding how thoroughly [i]weird[/i] that would be, it also couldn’t be true. In any case, he had no sweet clue how to respond to the Count’s inquiry. Normally it would be rude to try and openly discern a noble’s intentions, but Aaron couldn’t help but feel like the Count had painted himself into a corner and could use the prompt. 

[color=f0d705]“Forgive me Count Benjamin, but if I may,”[/color] he began cautiously, [color=f0d705]“is there another reason you wanted to speak with me?”[/color] 

This was his comeuppance for coming up with the shoddiest of excuses. Ben slowly shook his head, ashamed of himself. Alas, there was little he could do but come clean and hope he hadn't alienated the mage completely. He straightened up considerably as he would speak, [color=C0C0C0]"There is. I ask that you forgive me for the roundabout line of questioning. I will say firstly that your advice is genuinely appreciated."[/color] And this was true. [color=C0C0C0]"I had been hoping to apologize, but admittedly bringing it out immediately after receiving some much needed advice seemed out of place. I suppose I owe you two apologies now."[/color]

His lips straightened as he considered which way to go about it, but since he had been caught, a direct apology seemed best in his opinion. [color=C0C0C0]"On the night of the Revel, I couldn't help but feel that our introduction had gone awry,"[/color] He said. [color=C0C0C0]"I sincerely apologize for the awkwardness and any other discomfort you might have suffered. It was not my intention, I only want to honor the princess' invitation and the promise I made to foster relationships between all four noble representatives. Those relationships include those of their mages as well, and I feel there must be something I can do to make it up to you."[/color]

Aaron almost voiced his surprise, but refrained, momentarily stunned by Count Benjamin’s confession. Aaron wasn’t the kicked puppy Max and Salem seemed to think he was, but he would freely admit that a vampire—and a [i]noble[/i] at that—prostrating himself like this over a presumed offence toward a [i]mage[/i] was entirely alien to him. This wasn’t just an offhand pardon from an unusually polite vampire; Count Benjamin seemed sincerely bothered by the idea that he might have put Aaron in a bad position, and apparently wanted forgiveness bad enough to lure him into his dorm under false pretenses. Aaron was at a loss for words. 

Luckily, he had some stock responses for such an occasion. [color=f0d705]“That’s not necessary, Count,”[/color] he insisted, dipping his head. [color=f0d705]“Your apology is kind and appreciated, but please don’t feel as if you owe me anything.”[/color] 

The very thought was absurd. Short of ill-conceived gambling debts, what on earth could a noble owe a mage anyway? Aaron was comforted to hear that the Count regretted the events of Revel, but the thought of a noble feeling indebted to him—not his master, but [i]him[/i] personally—was just bizarre. 

The response was expected and disappointing altogether, but Ben supposed he had brought it upon himself. The damage seemed to have been done—his lowbrow scheming probably did not help his chances—and this was the result. Perhaps he had hoped for too much after all. Of course that didn’t mean at least they couldn’t be cordial and if that was all he would get then he would have no choice but to accept it. He could disguise the motion as one of goodwill, or even simple neighborly affection.

Ben gave Aaron a short, curt nod, but he felt he could not give in just yet. [color=C0C0C0]“If you do not mind my asking, is that the Sinnenodel mage response, or is that the Aaron Starag response?”[/color] He asked. [color=C0C0C0]“I would much prefer the latter, if I can be earnest.”[/color]

Aaron blinked, then blinked again, stunned into silence and entirely unsure what to make of this vampire. He almost sounded like Princess Ryner the way he seemed intent on coaxing him out from behind his court manner walls; but Princess Ryner had known him since he was born, and this Count had met him all of twice. 

Clearing his throat, he opted for a more ‘genuine’ response, even if in this instance, his ‘Sinnenodel mage’ answer and his ‘Aaron Starag’ answer were practically one in the same.  [color=f0d705]“...I beg your pardon if I came across as disingenuous,”[/color] he tried to recover, [color=f0d705]“I suppose I’m not used to being apologized to by nobles.”[/color]

Bringing his hands together, he started spinning his ring. [color=f0d705]“I’m happy that you’re taking Her Highness’ aims for the Academy to heart, I really am,”[/color] he insisted. That, at least, was true. [color=f0d705]“The Revel was a… strange night, but rest assured after our exchange I was no worse for wear.”[/color] He [i]had[/i] spent the day on the lawn and gotten a thorough punishment from Varis for his trouble, but he didn’t blame Count Benjamin for that. 

Aaron wasn’t sure what else he could say that would satisfy the Count, but as his gaze wandered back to the cake platter on the counter, he had an idea. [color=f0d705]“Your apology really is enough for me, and I thank you for it,”[/color] he began. [color=f0d705]“But, Count, if you have your heart set on making it up to me somehow, then I would say you already have.”[/color]

He gestured to the cup on the counter, still steaming. [color=f0d705]“Frankly, I’m happy that you’ve put so much effort into helping Lilie adjust to noble life.”[/color] He was sincere. [color=f0d705]“As I’m sure you know, she’s had multiple masters abandon her—not to offend your House, of course, but I’m afraid it’s true—and with her background, she’s been struggling.”[/color] Good lord, Lilie would kill him if she knew he was saying this to her partner, yet Aaron continued. [color=f0d705]“She’s my friend, and I hate to see her struggle. I’m heartened to see that she’s finally found a master who’s so eager to help her thrive.”[/color] 

Now was probably a poor time to admit the tea was meant purely to lure Aaron in. Fortunately, it seemed the fates smiled kindly on him. Aaron’s response was truly one of Noilan fashion: polite, distant, and with a dash of an odd humility thrown in. Ben would take what he could get at this point, as alienating the young man would only undo the kindness given to him. However, his words did confirm a lingering suspicion, and he had unknowingly done him another favor. 

There was a short pause on Ben’s part, but he came to a decisive conclusion. [color=C0C0C0]“I have to thank you again for informing me. Miss Dionne—Lilie is not forthcoming with her struggles,”[/color] He said. There was some guilt in exchanging information on his mage, but it was oddly satisfying to get the truth at last. He wanted to impose once again, but perhaps he was hoping for too much. He needed to be more cautious with mages, and he would rather play it safe for the moment. 

[color=C0C0C0]“However, I will say it is a relief to see someone care for her wellbeing,”[/color] He continued. [color=C0C0C0]“I can only hope that someday you’ll allow me to extend that courtesy to you. There isn’t any reason we can’t at least be acquaintances, you and I.”[/color] It did not need to be said that this was solely between the two of them. [color=C0C0C0]“I’ll need someone’s assistance to see if my tea making has improved, after all.”[/color]

That Lilie didn’t admit her trouble wasn’t exactly surprising—it seemed like her faith in vampires had faded a little, although he was still pretty sure Lilie didn’t [i]dislike[/i] her Count—though Aaron was more interested in the Count’s next words. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say this Eve wanted to befriend him. Sure, friendships between mages and vampires weren’t unheard of; in fact, he’d seen low-class purebloods and embraced mingle with mages on campus as if they were one in the same. Hell, it even happened in his own family; his mother and Princess Ryner carried on like old friends, and even Clara displayed some affection for Princess Nox. But those examples were either low enough on the social ladder that the distinction between vampire and mage mattered little, or well within the bonds of servitude, where developing a certain fondness was practical and expected. A Count pursuing the company of a rival House’s mage, on the other hand, was strange at best. 

Aaron inwardly grimaced. Varis would call him a fool for even entertaining the idea that seeking friendship in another House’s ranks was anything but subterfuge. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Count Benjamin was genuine; his reputation as a mage rights advocate preceded him, and aside from some petty complaints about the trappings of life with a noble, Lilie hadn’t said anything bad about him either. He also had Ryner’s approval going for him, but mostly, well… Aaron didn’t [i]feel[/i] like he was being manipulated. 

That wasn’t to say it wasn’t still weird, but at least it didn’t seem [i]maliciously[/i] weird. 

Nodding, Aaron decided that he’d at least humour the Count, even if he didn’t quite understand him. [color=f0d705]“I’m honoured by your interest, Count,”[/color] he offered, dipping his head once more and offering Benjamin a polite smile. [color=f0d705]“I’d be happy to help you again, if I can.”[/color] 

Ben prevented himself from getting overly thrilled, but through his own bumbling he managed to earn the wary mage’s trust for the moment. He could not ask for more, and to expect anything else was a fool’s wish. He was entirely satisfied and sincerely hoped that with time, the two could be on amicable terms. Next time he would take the advice for a better tea to properly entertain him and come up with better conversation starters; he could not lean on the topic of his mage too much, lest he form a dependency.

[color=C0C0C0]“The honor is mine, Aaron Starag. Truly,”[/color] Ben responded to Aaron’s humility with his own and gave him a slight bow. Once he straightened he chuckled. [color=C0C0C0]“I’m sure I’ve kept you long enough. Please, don’t let me keep you any longer, perhaps if our free time coincides I can invite you over again.”[/color]

Still taken aback, both by the general absurdity of the situation and now the added spectacle of the Count’s little bow, Aaron could only smile and return it with a deeper one of his own. [color=f0d705]“Perhaps,”[/color] he agreed. [color=f0d705]“Good evening, Count Benjamin.”[/color] 

He waited until he was off the Eve property altogether to heave a deep breath, looking around at the other dorms and the forest and the stars for any indication as to what on earth he’d just been party to. By the time he got back to his own porch—at a more leisurely pace to account for some deliberating—he concluded that he had no idea what to make of all that, but he supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Whatever the Count’s… intentions, he’d been pleasant, and Aaron had no reason to believe he had malicious designs. At the very least, those twenty minutes of [i]strangeness[/i] served as a welcome distraction from visions of masked figures and false memories, though as he opened the door to his dorm, he supposed all good things must come to an end. 

Aaron fully expected an earful from Varis regarding why exactly the returning of a platter to a dorm forty feet away took twenty minutes to complete, but to his surprise, none came. In fact, there was no response of any sort from the study; Aaron was used to being met with utter indifference anytime he didn’t quite deserve scorn, sure, but he at least expected to hear a few more murmured insults and violent pen scratches as Varis graded papers for his ‘invalids’. 

A gentle nudge of the study door confirmed Aaron’s suspicions, bringing a smirk to his lips. There, once again, was Varis, slumped over at his desk and fast asleep. Shaking his head, Aaron closed the door once again, taking the opportunity to sneak to his room undetected. His chores were all but done, and Varis had been working himself ragged lately; maybe he could let the Count rest for a few minutes longer, and get in a little rest of his own. Moon only knew he needed it. 

But even as he lay on his bed, eyelids like lead when he closed them, he found he couldn’t relax. Try as he might, he just couldn’t justify it; Varis hated falling asleep and wasting precious time like this, and as much as he would have loved the chance to take a nap, Aaron couldn’t let himself cast aside his Master’s wishes like that in favour of his own. He was an attendant, his job was to make life as easy for his charge as possible, and while Varis made it clear that so far he’d been failing on that front, that was no excuse to let small obligations like these fall by the wayside. 

Inwardly groaning, Aaron dragged himself upright again, cursing his own devotion as he went. But, it was for the best. Maybe the Count wouldn’t have much to say about it anyway. 
[/hider]