Before them stood the elegant, gilded tower of the magi-biological department of the Istien University. It was a lonesome place, technically part of the Lissilin - healing - school of the university, but far more inclined to research than applied practise. White, made of a solid form of stone and washed over with lime it stood as a proud, but solo, testament to a secretive section of academia. Many who passed by it presumed it was another small observation tower, another hallowed hall to the pursuit of knowledge. Yet, alas, it was almost another school on its own, dedicated to the art of studying the physical form - with a keen interest in the magical possibilities the were kin to it.
Vitruvion strode up the small gallery of stairs that led to the ornate, oak door, the portal that had led them here merging back with reality easily. He was robed in fine indigo, with a smart tailcoat and breeches. At his throat was a ruffle of white silk, matching his ponytailed hair. For a moment he gazed up at the bright blue summer sky, a soft smile playing on his lips, then he twisted his head and gazed back at the exceedingly self-conscious kenku.
With her arms wrapped around her she followed in relative silence. She had now accompanied her usual loose tunic with a cloak. It was a heavy woollen and cotton mixed material, that covered around her shoulders and down to her knees. A perceptive individual would notice the small, but definitely misshapen bulges that were present beneath her shoulders. Her fingers gripped to the edges of the cloak, firm and sure, so that there was no chance of her wings even peeking past.
“My dear,” he said quietly, gazing at her sable beauty beneath the pale blue sky. “There is absolutely no reason to hide them here. No one judges you.” His eyes shone. “If they do then they will have a rather larger trouble to consider.”
However, she refused to look at him, and hugged herself all the tighter. She did, though, stride up the stairs and come to stand beside him, a great breath huffing from her lungs. With a grunt, Vitruvion raised his cane and gently knocked on the front door. As he did he curled his hand around her shoulder, and left it there, but it did not tense. So far in this strange and unfounded adventure he had not once threatened her. He had not once commanded or forbidden her from anything. Instead he had been oddly patient and a good-hearted, taking her frustration and her directed hatred of him, and dealing with it as calmly as was possible.
Today he was similar to a summer breeze, soft and cooling, refreshing yet still with a form of bite when it breathed that little too harshly.
With a defining creak, the door opened, revealing behind it a thin elf with a wispy beard that was knotted around several brass beads. He had a pair of pinz-nez on the end of his long nose and he rose his brows at the sight of Vitruvion and Stare.
“Ah yes? How may I help you?” He had an incredibly aristocratic accent - even more so, if it were possible, than Vitruvion. It seemed as if he spoke through his nose purely, for the notes were rounded, short and with a haughty tone.
“Illiu. I am looking for Professor Illiu. He still teaches here, does he not?”
The exceedingly posh man eyed Vitruvion up and down. “And you would be?”
A small smirk appeared on the god's face. “Sir Vitruvion Elssmith. And this is my steward, Lady Stare Tsukaka.”
Quite surprised at this sudden expression of a title she had never heard of, Stare glanced up with large eyes at him before he hissed in her mind quickly.
Go with it, Stare.
The kenku blinked, then switched the attention of her gaze around to the bearded man at the door. Sure. She would go with it. Why not be a noble for a single afternoon?
Their pleasant conversation partner paused a moment, and he observed with scrutiny behind his glasses, before an extraordinarily graceful smile appeared on his face. “Sir Elssmith,” he curled a hand in an elegant fashion onto his chest, and bowed his head. “Lady Tsukaka. Forgive me. Of course, Professor - Lord Illui will be most happy to see you I am sure. Please.”
And he spread a generous hand in, opening the door wide for them. Bringing a gloriously agreeable smile to his face Vitruvion inclined his head. Then, without warning he reached out and grabbed Stare's hand. It was wrenched with godly strength from her side as he pulled her awkwardly and as forcefully as he could insist without penalty or suspicion from the doorman. As she formed her stumble into a step he swept directly into the tower. She caught sight of a simple round entrance hall, with a desk, chair and many, many shelves. Around the outside of the room was a curving staircase that took the form of a wide spiral. Vitruvion gently but with pressure encouraged her before him as he gave a short and simple incline of his head.
“Thank you …” he tailed off, a querying look in his eye as he directed Stare to the staircase. His energy cast her over a few paces, away from where he let go of her hand. However, then she was stuck, pausing at the bottom step as he waited to hear the name of the bearded elf.
“Therian …’ was the reply.
“Ah. Thank you, Therian,” Vitruvion grandly dismissed the need for him with a flourish of his hand. It left the man blinking, shocked and uncertain of how the situation had abruptly altered to the ‘half-celestial’ being in command. “We can find our way from here.”
A pause. A blink. Then - “Right, then my dear Lady Stare, shall we-”
“You - you would not prefer me to accompany you, sir?” the elf looked puzzled, but Vitruvion shook his head firmly as he strode straight to the staircase. Stare had by now grabbed the side of her cloak again, and when she saw Vitruvion she turned, to begin the weary walk up the stairs. Within seconds the familiar presence appeared behind her.
Keep going, he urged, This is the best place I know to find answers.
I know, she whispered a reply, I just wish now that you had never found me. That I was just Avis, the baker, without any of these powers.
A hand curled around her shoulder, one that squeezed in an attempt at comfort briefly, then acted as a gentle guide to help her up the rest of the stairs.
I certainly do not, Stare, he said, as he gave one last very sickly congenial smile to Therian - evidently the administrator as he took the seat behind the desk. Life is what it is now, however. We continue on. I don't keep you around because you are weak you know.
She grunted. No, because I am stubborn.
And he let out an amused laugh. “That you are, my dearest. That you are.”
