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An unexpectedly bittersweet feeling invaded the trip out of Alliance territory and up into the mountains she now called home. It was difficult to say why; she’d handpicked the officials in charge of her current obligations and she’d promised to send regular letters home. Travel wasn’t especially hard on her either. Goddess knows she’s been on the road plenty in her lifetime. She’d spent a good portion of the trip mulling it over, and cursing that Jorah wasn’t there to just tell her, and when she finally found it, it seemed silly. It was the smell. Or specifically, the lack thereof. Home meant the sea and the salt sweet scent that permeated everything on the coast. It was a constant in her life, even in Diedru, and now she was turning her back on it. The mountain air was crisp and light but it wasn’t home.

Arrival at Garrag Mach banished any such qualms. Her excitement returned in full force as she traversed the halls of the monastery. She’d dreamed of seeing the headquarters of the Central Church since she was a child but she’d never considered that she’d actually come. An air of serenity pervaded every nook and cranny and she couldn’t help but bask in it. She basked under the watchful eyes of the Saints, in the presence of the Goddess that echoed in every footstep and laugh, and a sense of rightness settled on her shoulders. This is where she was meant to be, exactly as the Goddess wanted it. The smile wouldn’t leave her face knowing the Bishop was right and she beamed at the end of the Archbishop’s speech. The Goddess truly did bless everyone of them, didn’t She.

Of course, what goes up must come down. Clarissa appreciated Professor Kalonic’s direct and brisk handling of affairs. She didn’t linger on anything and didn’t repeat herself, one of Clarissa’s greatest pet peeves, but Clarissa’s good mood instantly collapsed when she announced the House Leader. They chose Jorah over her? The heir who didn’t want his position, who spent so much of his time running away from his responsibilities Duke Riegan locked him in the capital, who couldn’t face anything without turning into a joke if he didn’t blatantly shrug it off? She’d spent years working on the organizational and leadership skills while Jorah perfected his escape artist performance and they chose [i]him[/i]? She cared for him as much as any friend could but even he’d admit he wasn’t suited―Jorah probably wouldn’t want it anyways!―handling the responsibilities. She had half a mind to go after the Professor and demand they reconsider.

She deflated quickly though. Those thoughts were entirely inappropriate and rude. Jorah would wake up and step into his role just fine; he was adaptable and he knew when he needed to take something seriously. It wasn’t as if this was entirely unexpected. She’d wanted the position terribly but as usual, she had that irritating little issue that always held her one step back. Of course the Church wouldn’t want someone with the Crest of Maurice leading their students. Willingly put a betrayer in leadership? She should probably count herself lucky they even accepted her then. Clarissa gave a tiny shake of her head, trying to clear out the resentment and resignation that settled over her like a blanket, and focused instead on the challenge. The Goddess gave her the opportunity to prove herself and like every time before that, she would. 
Clarissa made a mental note to spend some extra time in the Cathedral praying once everyone settled in and waited for Raimund to finish his little introduction. She rolled her eyes at his familiarity with Jorah. He should at least wait until their House Leader made his introductions before publicly falling into their friendship. She knew it had been two years since the Duke refused Raimund’s visits Jorah but they waited this long, surely they could wait a few more minutes. Of course, she didn’t know why she thought anything less; these two brought out the childish sides of each other and she had an eerie feeling someone was going to be cleaning up messes behind them.

[color=FF650E]“In that vein, I’m pleased to make everyone’s acquaintance as well. My name is Clarissa von Edmund, heiress to the Margravate of Edmund.”[/color] Clarissa curtsied, having worn a longer and heavier skirt than the original specifications. The mountains were supposed to be cold and she was averse to the idea of being half frozen for an entire year. [color=FF650E] “It truly is an honor to have the opportunity to work together with such a diverse group and I hope that, true to Alliance philosophy, we find a way to meld our differences together in a way to make all of us stronger.”[/color]