[color=DECAB0][b]Magus Dagon[/b][/color]

Continuing to look down from his position on the dais, Dagon eyed Ishara with that soul-cutting gaze of his. He blinked slowly, and something resembling weariness crept into his features. He nodded to his student solemnly, and said to her, "[color=DECAB0]Your mother is very wise. Now, off with you. Make a new friend. Glean that from my experience.[/color]"

He turned his back to his students, Magus' cloak swaying gently, and stepped off of the dais. He wasn't any less intimidating when he wasn't looming over them, as he was still quite tall and his posture was painfully straight. Even so, there was a certain hesitance in his movements, like he was bearing some kind of invisible burden as he walked. Despite this, he was not slowed down any, and strode over to where Magistrate Amon had been standing nearby, conversing with some other Sorcerers.

"[color=DECAB0]Magistrate, if I may have a word?[/color]" He called to the elder Sorcerer, before stepping just out of earshot. Though, if anyone was particularly curious nearby it would not have been difficult to eavesdrop.

[hr]

[color=black][b]Magus Nevrakis[/b][/color]

Berenice's greeting brought what looked like a petulant scowl to her mentor's face, an expression that spoke clearly of disappointment. The Magus did not let the question of her disapproval linger long in the air, as she replied, "[color=black]You're not in the bloody military, girl. Don't salute me. You're a Sorcerer now, have some dignity.[/color]" Just as it seemed she was going to bark some orders at her in turn, the final member of their circle arrived, and Nevrakis' expression lightened. "[color=black]Ah, good, you're all gathered.[/color]" She sounded relieved, like she had just finished accounting her taxes.

Nevrakis rose from her seat, dusting the crumbs of spilled food from her lap, and immediately set off at a brisk pace. She whipped around, cloak billowing with a flourish, and beckoned to her students. "[color=black]Well? Come along! I wasn't joking when I said your training has started. Hop to it![/color]" With that, she turned back and continued to weave through the festivities quickly enough that her students would have had to have made a concerted effort to keep up with her. She walked clear across most of the Dijat, until her destination was clear: she was heading directly toward one of the Cults' pyramids. The icon carved thirty feet high into gleaming silver on the inward-facing edifice of the pyramid made it clear whose it was, though it was perhaps not a great surprise. A coiling, winged serpent taking flight. They were entering the pyramid of the Cult of the Serpent.