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The night before found Luc hitchhiking into Pebblebrook on the back of a merchant’s cart, yawning and rubbing his eyes as a sharp rap on the side of the wagon roused him from his nap. His bag was nestled away in the back and he fished it out as the wagon’s owner chatted in his ear about something or another, but honestly Luc was ready for a bed to lay his head in so everything just went in one ear and right out another. A quick round of thanks, a meal, and a few rounds of [i]just one more story[/i], and Luc stumbled his way to bed, finally succumbing to the exhaustion clinging to the edge of his consciousness. 

Of course, a life of early waking didn’t disappear over one late night, but even the most stubborn tendrils of sleep vanished on the ferry as it passed through the glittering lights. Filled with child-like wonder at the sight, Luc couldn’t keep himself still on the ferry and tried to catch the lights hovering over the water like fireflies, stretching his hand over the edge to reach what he could. Just seeing them served as a reminder that he, Luc Dilore of all people, was here to learn [i]magic[/i]. Even the sharp pinch he gave himself (he still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t dreaming) didn’t diminish the goofy grin on his face as they approached the island. 

[color=mediumspringgreen]“Oh, you don’t- I can carry mine, really it’s fi- No, please rea… And they’re gone. Cool, cool, cool.”[/color] Luc held his hands up in surrender as the two bags he brought were promptly removed from his possession and whisked away ahead of him. The brief glances from the upperclassmen made him adjust his school uniform awkwardly, if only because it was nicer than anything his family would typically wear. Even their nicer clothes were, as his ma would say, well loved but still plenty nicer than their field wear. But Luc felt like the fabric didn’t quite sit right on him, especially with some of those around him having altered it in some way. Should he have done that? What would he have even done? He’d normally just felt like clothes were clothes, a way to keep a person decent and provide some protection from the sun and the bugs and the nasty thorns and sharp branches, but here, they felt a little more important. 

[color=mediumspringgreen]“Whoa…”[/color] Luc’s eyes grew wide stepping into the audience room as he spun in circles, unable to decide where to look first. The fire motes (yes he wanted to touch one. No, he would not. He was a commoner, not an idiot!) caught his attention first and then the soaring stained glass windows and then the enchanted instruments and then to the food. His mouth watered at the sight, his stomach making its interest known loudly enough that he apologized to those closest to him with an awkward laugh. [color=mediumspringgreen]“Just a little longer and you will be mine.”[/color] Luc promised the spread when he noticed they weren’t allowed to get any yet, before his attention was again on the splendor in the room. 

Everything looked fancy, everything looked expensive. Luc suddenly felt very out of place again. Briefly distracted by the wonders around him, he came to the sharp realization there was probably more money in the expensive decorations and stunning art than his family would get in a year, or even five, and that thought made him freeze up. What if he broke something here? Would he have to pay for it? How would he even pay for it? They wouldn’t make him pay for like, a normal thing, right? They were mages…Couldn’t they just magic it back together or something? It was fine; if he broke something, he’d just run for his life and live out as a recluse like Granny until they forgot he owed them money! Perfect plan, no possible flaws. 

The fall of silence over the crowd brought him back into the room and he turned as the Chancellor spoke. Second Battlemage Auristel, huh? If the silencing spell hadn’t been woven into place, Luc would have been tempted to ask how many families the Battlemage had torn apart, displaced at the behest of his masters. How many magicless folk suffered at his hand because they couldn’t defend themselves against whatever onslaught the tyranny of the Heptarchy demanded. This Battlemage was little more than a glorified dog- just waiting for his masters to snap their fingers like all his kind. 

Actually, they might be an insult to dogs. 

At the end of the day, it didn’t matter really. The Heptarchy won, the matter resolved, and the case closed. Luc shrugged off the dissatisfied slant of his mouth and embraced the excitement of the day instead, especially as the speeches [i]finally[/i] dwindled down and he shot like an arrow from a bow at the table, not above shouldering a few people to get to it. A heavily ladened plate later and a content hum of appreciation as he chewed on whatever was easiest to show in his mouth first, he drifted back to his cohort overseer. One of his Cohort members was already there and another one was already waiting, but Luc was itching to explore and if he could just get a finger in the right direction, he’d be out of everyone’s hair. Though, irritating people in a place he had no friends in may be a poor decision and he grimaced at the twinge in his ear from how often Ma had grabbed it when she was cross with him. He dutifully shoved another morsel in his mouth and waited to cut into the conversation, allowing himself to marvel instead at everything in the room.