[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/200708/20a34491986e4c8e6ecacb3c1adb7b5c.png[/img][/center] [color=9DB8C7]“Oh! There he is!”[/color] Head snapping up from the spiced bread he was enjoying, Radaam was met with the sight of his parents edging their way politely through the crowd, smiles lighting up having finally spotted their elusive son. Not that he really meant to be; he [i]had[/i] set off with the intent of meeting up with his parents, but the enduring density of the crowd made it difficult enough for someone his size to squeeze through that he figured it would be easier to stay still and let them find him. As it turned out, not a bad strategy—they’d spotted him in a matter of minutes, probably over the heads of other attendees. [color=9DB8C7]“We were wondering when you'd have a spare moment for us,”[/color] his mother continued happily when they drew near, already fussing with his cloak. [color=437D99]“Hello, Ma,”[/color] he greeted fondly, meeting an amused look from his onlooking father. [color=437D99]“And Da. How are the two of you liking the banquet?”[/color] [color=9DB8C7]“It's just wonderful, Daama,”[/color] his mother insisted, leading Radaam and his father to a seat at a nearby table she must have spotted on her way over. Radaam’s father was visibly relieved to sit and get his bare feet off the hot ground—he'd lent Radaam his good sandals for the occasion—and it was clear from her smile and the way her wide eyes darted around the Dijat that his mother was having the time of her life. It really was heartening to see; she rarely got the chance to dress up, and she'd leapt at the opportunity. Her hair was intricately braided and her jade green saree (easily the nicest thing she owned) had been pressed and draped with utmost care—Radaam even thought he saw a few new lines of decorative stitching along the hem. His father, while not quite as pressed and preened as his mother, was still dressed to the occasion in a tunic similar to Radaam’s own and his hair and beard neatly combed and braided with a few ceramic beads. Sitting pin-straight herself, Radaam’s mother smoothed out the skirt of her saree and leveled her son with her patented ‘tell me everything’ look. [color=9DB8C7]“But how are [i]you[/i] finding it? Have you met your classmates yet? Did you speak to your teacher?”[/color] Another look was shared between father and son before Radaam let out a fond—if exasperated—sigh. [color=437D99]“He’s called the [i]Magus[/i], Ma,”[/color] he gently corrected her, [color=437D99]“And they’re my [i]colleagues[/i]. And yes, I did speak to them. The two studying under my Magus, anyway.”[/color] His mother’s face lit up, his gentle chastising rolling off of her. [color=9DB8C7]“That’s excellent!”[/color] she exclaimed, beaming between her husband and her son. Radaam chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. [color=437D99]“Yeah,”[/color] he replied quietly, avoiding his mother’s gaze. [color=9DB8C7]“And?”[/color] she insisted, not fooled for a second by Radaam’s obfuscation. [color=437D99]“[i]And,[/i]”[/color] he continued, [color=437D99]“one of them invited the other two of us to his, erm… [i]manor[/i] after the banquet is over.”[/color] [color=9DB8C7]“That’s great! I’m always telling you, you need to get out more,”[/color] his mother reminded him, utterly unfazed by the opulent wording. [color=437D99]“Yes Ma, I remember,”[/color] he offered a tight-lipped smile, looking between his parents. [color=437D99]“Though, apparently this boy is a noble of some flavour, and his mother wants to meet the two of you before I go.”[/color] The hairs on the back of Radaam’s neck stood up in the moment after he said that, both his parents’ eyes fixed on him, but this time, it was his father’s turn to break the silence. [color=596A74]“What’s that funny look for, then?”[/color] he asked jovially, sharing an amused look with his wife. [color=596A74]“We’d love to meet your [i]colleague’s[/i] family.”[/color] [color=9DB8C7]“Of course!”[/color] his mother chimed in enthusiastically, [color=9DB8C7]“and it’s perfectly reasonable for her to want to meet us. I would too if you or Zahra were bringing a stranger’s child home.”[/color] She chuckled. Radaam relaxed a bit, laughing with his mother. Once more, he wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so worked up. Was it just him who felt out of place among the riches and finery? His parents couldn’t have felt like they fit in either, but they were making themselves at home—very much so, if the satchel over his father’s shoulder smelling of bread was any indication. [color=437D99]“I’ll find you two later on to meet them, then,”[/color] he agreed, looking around once more. [color=437D99]“Where did Zahra get off to?”[/color] [color=9DB8C7]“Exploring with Toruk, I imagine,”[/color] his mother replied, taking a cursory look around herself. After a moment, she pointed behind Radaam and added, [color=9DB8C7]“Ah, there she is there.”[/color] Following his mother’s gesture, Radaam happened to spot a flash of Zahra’s clay-coloured dress through a gap in the crowd. Standing up for a better look, he couldn’t quite see [i]her[/i], but he did see a head of pink hair—how strange—near where she’d been, the boy beneath it looking startled. The hawk perched on his shoulder was all Radaam needed to realize that that must have been who Zahra was talking to, smitten with animals as she was. As the bird floated to the ground, Radaam spotted a hint of gold and white where it had been sitting; the boy must have been another Novitiate. Unfortunately, Radaam couldn’t claim to remember seeing him go up to the dais, as wrapped up as he’d been in his thoughts at the time. Still, an uneasiness crept into his stomach at the sight all the same. Zahra was sweet and personable, but manners weren’t her strong suit at [i]home[/i], let alone among the top of society in the Dijat, and, well... she'd be hard-pressed to find others of their family's social standing here. [color=437D99]“I’m going to go get her,”[/color] he told his parents hastily, before taking off to nudge through the crowd at an excruciatingly slow pace. His parents weren’t nearly as concerned as they watched him go, but they paid it no mind; their son had always been a bit of a worrier, and anything that got him talking to his fellow Novitiates was a win in their book. It took a moment for Radaam to make his way over, though his fears were realized when he saw the blaze of white across the boy’s chest confirming his Novitiate status. But come now, he really needed to relax; how much harm could a little girl do to someone his age, anyway? Surely no one in their right mind would take offence to the antics of a child of barely ten. If anything, Toruk was the one he should worry about; his satchel-searching habits would probably make a prime target for someone to accuse him of stealing, and Radaam didn’t need to be getting off on any more wrong of a foot than he already had. Still, he approached the two, offering the boy what qualified for him as a friendly smile. [color=437D99]“Hello, I hope my sister isn’t bothering you,”[/color] he greeted politely before turning a stricter gaze on girl and tutelary alike. [color=437D99]“Zahra, it’s impolite to pester people, remember?”[/color] he reminded her. [right][sub][@Scribe of Thoth][/sub][/right]