[center][h1]A Welcome Fit for a King? Part Two[/h1][/center][hr][center][h3][color=D2691E]M[/color]arlijn [color=D2691E]V[/color]aanse[/h3][/center][hr]
Marlijn knew that she had no chance of being chosen. Indeed, the four names that the Arch-Zeno called were all of the ducal or princely rank, all with RAS levels above eight. At least he didn't draw it out. At least she'd get to learn soon. Her eyes rolled back and forth across the diminishing group of Zenos. They came in all colours, shapes, and sizes, the only thing binding them together being their shared mastery of the Gift. Vitas was called up to join a bookish-looking sort and Marlijn could tell that he was hiding a scowl. Randan was chosen by - to the amusement of all - Randan the Red. There was a smirk on the Zeno's face as his new apprentice joined him, and the boy grinned back. 

More names were called. The sun disappeared below the buildings and its fading light silhouetted them in stark relief. The unpicked group dwindled and Marlijn was able to find Owain easily enough. [color=D2691E]"So, what do you think?"[/color] She intoned, leaning in, [color=D2691E]"last one picked, just like when we were kids?"[/color]

He stared lightning at her. "Maybe you," he retorted. 

[color=D2691E]"Dream on, kid brother."[/color] He was half an hour her junior and there was no surer way to get on his nerves than to rub that in. [color=D2691E]"I'm the pick of the litter,"[/color] she added. Then, a tall severe-looking woman onstage called out a series of four names. "Owain Vance" was among them. Owain stuck out his tongue, turned on a heel, and [i]just [/i]remembered to give her a hug before he left. "Don't be last, big sis." 

More Zenos moved onstage. More names were called. Siblings and old friends hugged each other. Strangers shook hands and chatted, their voices and bodies weaving introductions and stories through the night air. Some, lucky enough to have been placed with existing friends, cheered and jumped up and down excitedly. Still, the ceremony went on until Marlijn noticed - much to her embarrassment, that there were only four Zenos and sixteen students left. One was Leon Solaire. One was Lady Anesin. Marlijn swallowed. [color=D2691E][i]Just not last,[/i][/color] she thought. [color=D2691E][i][b]Please [/b]not last![/i][/color]

A pretty Torragonese woman strode onto centre stage, her slightly revealing dress resplendent with gold-laced embroidery and gemstones. "Zeno Sienna Afraval," the crier announced. [color=D2691E][i]Afraval! She's a royal![/i][/color] The Zeno rocked back on the balls of her feet for a moment and cleared her throat, a bit of a grin creasing her lips. Marlijn wouldn't mind being with her. That would be alright. [color=D2691E][i]A Torragonese royal would actually be pretty-[/i][/color]

"Anesin of House Bjelke, Penny Pellegrin, Onarr Yidlob, and my countrywoman: Linnah Aranda. It will be my pleasure to serve as your master and mentor."

Marlijn's heart sunk. It would've been nice if she could've been with Anesin - someone to speak Eskandish with, at least - even that ghastly Ath dialect. The new group made their introductions as they walked offstage. Zeno Afrafal was replaced by a large Virangish man with a bushy beard and an impatient bearing. "Zeno Hamir Zemana!" called the crier. He nodded in the man's direction. "Yes, thank you Roderick." He pivoted, hands clasped behind his back, and regarded the twelve remaining students. "Hmp-hmm," he cleared his throat. Marlijn would even take him, she decided. Even him! "Mayu of House Iovina, Seung Eun-Ji - I hope I'm not mispronouncing your name, girl, Manfred of House Hohenfelter - same goes for you, boy, and finally Karim Nazeri. If you're half as sharp as your parents, this should be quite a partnership." He smiled warmly. The new group joined him.

There were two Zenos remaining: a petite young woman of profoundly exotic background whose face paint reminded her of that from old Eskandish legend but was somehow very different at the same time, and large Belzaggic fellow with a simple, martial bearing. The former filled Marlijn with a sort of unease, and she wasn't sure why. The latter was... actually kind of handsome. [color=D2691E][i]Dami, please give me one thing today,[/i][/color] she prayed inwardly. [color=D2691E][i]Just this.[/i][/color] She remembered to make the sign of the Pentad, at which she could've sworn that the facepainted Zeno rolled her eyes. [color=D2691E][i]Gods no! What if she's my master!?[/i][/color]

"Ladies first?" asked the handsome Zeno, turning to his counterpart. She smirked, as if having a thought, and Marlijn liked her a bit better for that. "Thanks, big guy," she said with an accent that the girl had never heard before.

"Zeno Fades-in-Moonlight, of the Nashibansek," called Roderick, whose voice had held up admirably well. [color=D2691E][i]Nashibansek![/i][/color] Marlijn thought. No wonder she'd seemed so exotic. She'd come all of the way from western Callanast! The Eskandishwoman's eyes widened. Moonlight sniffed and fished a piece of paper from her skirt. "Uhh... we got Leon Solaire." She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Carmillia Carbonneau, Jomurr Ikon III and um... Ila-" She bit her lower lip, eyes narrowing at the paper. "Is it [i]Ilannak[/i]? Ilannak Sigmund...daughter?" She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry if I butchered any names. What's an attendance list without some casualties, huh? I promise we're gonna have a good time, though." She tried on a smile. "Why don't you all come up here?" 

Marlijn was in the last group. She had to accept that, but if the choice was between Zeno Moonlight and the other guy, she honestly felt like she'd just dodged a bullet. Then, even though it was obvious who'd be chosen, the last Zeno stepped to the centre of the stage. Marlijn spared a glimpse at her groupmates-to-be: a dour-looking Torragonnese, a Rettanese girl who looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and... a boy who she could only describe as a street urchin. Her cheeks flushed with shame. What had she done to deserve being lumped in with these people? 

"Zeno Zander Mozaru!" announced Roderick, with a hint of a grateful smile. The Zeno clasped his hands behind his back, bowed slightly in the crier's direction and turned to face the crowd. "You've all been waiting quite a while," he announced, "but sometimes waiting is good for you. It helps you to value things more. I'm proud to welcome Miss Pan Yimu." That was the Rettanese girl. [color=D2691E][i]Fourth last,[/i][/color] Marlijn thought. "And Lord Selio Taraves." [color=D2691E][i]The sad guy, and third last. Gods no![/i][/color] Things were proceeding with a certain sort of inevitability at this point. Zeno Mozaru's eyes settled on her and they twinkled warmly as he smiled. "Lady Marlijn Vaanse, it is an honour." [color=D2691E][i]Phhheeeeewwwww![/i][/color] All of the air escaped her and she grinned and bounded over to the stage. "Young master Vyrik Oldenrath," the Zeno added as Marlijn hurried up to join the others. "I believe I had someone pass you a notice. Hopefully you're not [i]too [/i]behind the curve anymore."

No sooner was their apprentice group complete, then there was a fantastic flash. All of the torches and lamps lining the edges of the plaza blazed to life, their ambient light so vivid that it seemed almost like daytime again. People oohed and aahed. There was a second flash and, suddenly, the ancient wizard who had been seated towards the back of the group was standing at the lectern without having moved a muscle. [color=D2691E][i]Hugo Hunghorasz! A teleportation spell![/i][/color] Zenos Mozaru and Moonlight bowed deeply in his direction. He stroked his beard, and his tired old eyes peered out from beneath drooping eyelids. "You have much to do tonight, and over the next few days," he rumbled, voice only slightly tremulous with age, "Dare I say this will be the most exciting period of your lives. Take it from someone who's lived as long as I have." He grinned slightly. "Now go. Go be the mages - the [i]people [/i]- you were meant to be. As a former Zenith and on behalf of the Zenith and all of my colleagues, I dismiss you and welcome you to Ersand'Enise, class of Ahn-Ipte Zept Fifty-Five!"

With that, the lights dimmed to a more normal level. Kings and faculty alike stood and clapped - for Marlijn's classmates, for Marlijn, for the mages of the future. It was only moments before the fireworks began - a show such as she had never seen. The girl took a deep breath of the cooling night air and allowed herself a shameless, relieved, satisfied smile. Tomorrow, in earnest, it would begin. 
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