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[color=B43104]It was the third night of the standoff and Joshe Intaba - at least the statue of him - looked as hideous as ever. Biros, junior faculty, and regular citizens had gathered round, holding torches and placards, waving banners, and chanting for the return of Penny Pellerin, the resignation of Arch-Zeno Tojarra, and the reinstatement of Eloise, Yvette, and Jean-Marc. As of the past few hours, however, they had taken on a new and dangerous bent. There was talk of storming the Enclave. There was talk of a coup.

Now, as the final rays of sun began to fade from the sky and Eshiran looked towards Dami, the city's hundreds of bells sounded. Was it simply the passing of an hour or a call to arms? The swollen mob, feeding off of its own energy, had tried, more than once, to march towards the Violet Enclave, where the [i]true[/i] seat of the academy's power lay. An army of mercenaries, City Guards, and constructed golems faced them, interspersed with Zenos, Tan-Zenos, Centuries, and even a few Lamplighters. 

These blocked every path they could find between the angry mass and their employers but, every once in a while, someone got through, slipping off into the dusky depths of the Arboretum. Every once in a while, one appeared outside of the Enclave. They began to gather. The defenders began to split their forces. The enormous city gates closed for the first time in years, sealing off all contact with the outside world on this night - this destined night - of Lepdes, the thirteenth of Velles, DZ55. It was in Dami's hands, or perhaps even Reshta's now.[/color]

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[color=848484]What happened on the night of Lepdes, the 13th of Velles? That there had been some sort of fight - some sort of violence - was a fact to all who lived within the walls of Ersand'Enise. Those who lived without had seen, clearly, the fires lighting up the darkness into the wee hours of the morning. They had seen the great beacon at the top of the Forked Tower flicker and disappear. People were left without sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, and others who had not upped and died for no reason. It was generally accepted that there had been a revolution and that the revolution had not been broadcast. The white walls held firm.

Yet, the vast majority of students had played only a lesser role in the fighting. They may have cut down a handful of mercenaries. They may have found themselves rushing and shouting through the hallowed halls of the Violet Enclave with torches in hand and anger in their hearts, but they had not done much more. There were mysteries at the heart of everything that they would never receive answers to: what had happened to Claresse Upta, the undoubtedly corrupt and biased but genuinely peace-loving Zenith? Why would she have called mercenaries against them? What had taken place in the Forked Tower - Ersand'Enise's centre of power? Some swore they'd seen demons swarming out of it. Others had awoken in infirmaries after trying to infiltrate the double-towered prison known as the Nashorn. Clearly, it was no normal prison, but a place of infamy. Finally, what of Alassa Tojarra, who had precipitated this entire conflict? None knew her whereabouts, and it was the topic of endless speculation. 

It was mostly the rebelling Zenos, Tan-Zenos, and a particular group of about thirty students who'd been involved in clandestine work for these in the past who seemed to know more about these mysteries. Yet, perhaps some did not [i]wish[/i] to remember and, as the magic of master internal chemists was used upon much of the city to... [i]soften[/i] their memories of the uprising, these thirty were given a choice: keep their knowledge of the horrors they had encountered or return to blissful semi-ignorance.[/color] 

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[color=A9D0F5]That, indeed, seemed to be the operative word for much of the city. The swathes of the Arboretum that had lain in ashes for the first twenty hours following the violence were restored with speed and a degree of imperfection. They were not trying to hide, in its entirety, that something consequential had happened. They were merely trying to return matters to a semblance of normalcy. The towers and rooftops and warehouses were restored in short order. Pardons were issued to all but the most egregious of offenders, and the wards of the Violet Enclave returned, and stronger than before. The port was first to reopen, and then the gates - but not to the refugees of Tanso, Parmoy, and Yarsoc. Businesses were back at full capacity or something like it within a week, as classes were placed temporarily on hold. The scouts of the Perrench Legion, who had made camp outside, turned back once they were satisfied that the Princess Royal was safe. In retrospect, the events leading up to her arrest had been such a comedy of errors that it ought to have raised questions. 

Classes remained suspended for a further week as the faculty voted upon, implemented, and announced a sweeping series of changes. Claresse Upta had been stripped of her office, position, and pension. Declared Anto, she had been sent back to Joru in disgrace. The same had gone for Riu Kai-Tan. Giacomo Giarrone had announced his retirement, scheduled for the end of the year, to give him time to wrap up his duties and move to an emeritus position. Joshe Intaba had been promoted into the role of Zenith over his own misgivings. The position of Paradigm was made formal, and not merely the purview of retired Zeniths as it had been before Hugo Hunghorasz had made something of the office. Karim Harrarchora remained ensconced there, but there were greater changes as well. While Arderedelle Latvar had fallen on the right side of history and retained her position as Arch-Zeno, she was now joined by a pair of newly-promoted High Zenos in the form of Sigmund Bastañer and João Fabio. Tarthas'talix'tuura and Sienna Afraval had been promoted straight from the rank of Zeno, which was highly irregular, and the disbarred Vaughn Marbrand had been reinstated not as a Zeno, but as an Arch-Zeno. Finally, the council had been expanded, with its two new positions going to recently-promoted High Zenos Olivier Masson and Giancarlo Silvestri. Much was done to balance matters between those two great political alliances of the outside world: Sovereign Pact and Central Alliance. Much was done to placate the latter that this was not simply a coup of the former. Much was done to assure the former that their position would, indeed, improve.

Yet, there was still more. Numerous Tan-Zenos found themselves preemptively promoted to full communion and pressed into teaching duties, a fact that a handful grumbled about. Administration decided to fill the gaps left in the same way that it had with one of these - Jocasta Re - by holding a series of interviews for 'Advanced Placement', allowing students seventeen years of age or older who demonstrated levels of maturity, magical understanding, and ability that significantly outstripped their peers' to test and interview for Tan-Zeno positions. Thus, it was, as the conflict that had torn the academy and city apart slipped from immediacy to recency, as dorrad sweltered, refugees gathered at the gates, and trade once again bustled, the tryouts were held and classes resumed. There seemed, once more, to be something to look forward to.[/color]

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