Ürei
08-26-06, 01:37 AM
Raiaera; the Grand City of the Elves. Last time I was here it wasn’t grand and their walking late ancestors out numbed the poor Elves. A terrible calamity beset upon them by that foul mage, Xem'Zûnd. Glad I am that their walls stand once more though in defiance of their past. The land is still twisted and scarred, but even that will eventually fade away.
New generations come, and the old die with their memories of the tragedies. The new must conquer the old, yet always remember it.
Finishing the entry into his journal with a flourish of the feathered quill pen, Grimoir gently shut the Never-ending Journal and rubbed its cover. Pushing it off his lap with a brisk shove, it flew a few feet through the air before fading into an ethereal outline of its previous glory. Before the image even drew close to the grass it was gone without a trace. The intellectual figure dried the ink out of the quill pen and tucked it into a inside pocket of his long coat. Smoothing out the raven feathers embellishing the jacket, he stood and patted himself down gently.
Raising his eyes to the majestic sun that was cradled serenely by a wisp of milky clouds, Grim breathed the Elven air deeply as he left the rock that had served as his perch. A tumbling brook accompanied by a rocky beach ran alongside a patch of forest near one of the entrances of the Istien University. It was separated into four schools, each with private classrooms and tutoring areas. The Elves, of course addicted to the open air, had many rooms without ceilings, or simply wandered out to the courtyards to do their studies. Sweet sounds and chords of both joy and fury interlaced in the air, creating an almost tangible charm inhaled at every breath. Magic was thick here, and even the inept Grim could feel it.
Mounting the stairs leading to one of the large arching entrances of the Istien University, Grim was met politely by a tall Elven musician. Probably either a high ranked student or a teacher, the man quietly asked him which School and Classroom he was looking for. Grim simply chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, not entirely sure what to say. After a moment of thought, his optimism-edged voice came out in a bundle.
“Well, you see, I haven’t exactly enrolled in the school as of yet. I was hoping you could very well direct a fellow such as I to a place which within I may place myself upon the list of students here.”
The Elf took more then just a second to think about the words then smiled and nodded. Opening the door, he put on an air of kind superiority and gentle guidance as he led Grim into the school. The roomed they entered opened up as a large lobby. The entire building was of magnificent design, almost indescribable in its pure dedication to aesthetic value. Not exactly an architect himself, but moderate in physics, the building seemed to defy gravity, arching and hanging in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Though it was very unnatural, a pure unrequited aspect of nature was integrated into every aspect of the design. It felt as if you were standing in a marble jungle though you knew yourself to be inside a building. In all simplicity, it was beyond the imagination of Grim to know how they build this building. He barely even noticed when the Elf began speaking.
“You are in the Turlin School, is that where you want to be? It doesn’t matter where you enroll, enrollment applies for the entire University.”
Grim nodded and grinned, surprised that he had managed to get the right building.
“Yes, Turlin, that’s exactly where I had propositioned to present myself at this precise juncture in time. Now, where may I sign down my information and begin my lessonings?”
Excited and anxious, Grimoir went through the procedures and paper-work doing that an Elf secretary put before him before he was asked a few questions about his knowledge on music and magic. After deftly demonstrating his absolute ignorance on both subjects, the female Elf that was helping him laughed with him for a bit then suggested ‘Philosophy of Magic’. A brief comment about how Grim had always considered himself a philosopher ended the polite conversation and he headed down a hall with a map in hand. She had also suggested that he think up an instrument to learn so that he may further his studies in the school.
Now I must learn to create music from a untalented heart. I wish it false what they say about true music coming only from birth, not training. I’ve never failed to learn anything before, and I refuse to fail here.
Approaching the room designated by a mark on his map as his correct class, he pushed on the wooden-appearing door and entered whilst shoving the map into an inside coat pocket. Glancing around the room his eyes caught notice of a few windows and large desks strewn through the room with several organized yet empty chairs filling the room. An elf, which he was not yet sure if it was male or female yet, stood at one of the windows gazing out over the gardens of Eluriand’s inner city.
Coughing to announce his presence, he spoke up with a meager tone that didn’t fit his age.
“I’m here to learn about this sing-song magic you Elves prize so very dearly and I admire with adoration in my heart of hearts. I’m unskilled in music as of yet, but hope to learn before my time here is done. I am to become a master, you see, and I do not intend to stop until I do. Now, can you help me get started along that path?”
Finishing with a kind laugh, Grim twined his fingers and stood with relax, waiting patiently for an answer. Deep inside his mind he felt the line flux, but held it in hold. Breaking soul here would be fatal at best, and could possibly even get him expelled from this school before he ever started. Closing his eyes for but a second to concentrate, he abolished the line and ignored the existence of his others. They were not to be a part of this school.
New generations come, and the old die with their memories of the tragedies. The new must conquer the old, yet always remember it.
Finishing the entry into his journal with a flourish of the feathered quill pen, Grimoir gently shut the Never-ending Journal and rubbed its cover. Pushing it off his lap with a brisk shove, it flew a few feet through the air before fading into an ethereal outline of its previous glory. Before the image even drew close to the grass it was gone without a trace. The intellectual figure dried the ink out of the quill pen and tucked it into a inside pocket of his long coat. Smoothing out the raven feathers embellishing the jacket, he stood and patted himself down gently.
Raising his eyes to the majestic sun that was cradled serenely by a wisp of milky clouds, Grim breathed the Elven air deeply as he left the rock that had served as his perch. A tumbling brook accompanied by a rocky beach ran alongside a patch of forest near one of the entrances of the Istien University. It was separated into four schools, each with private classrooms and tutoring areas. The Elves, of course addicted to the open air, had many rooms without ceilings, or simply wandered out to the courtyards to do their studies. Sweet sounds and chords of both joy and fury interlaced in the air, creating an almost tangible charm inhaled at every breath. Magic was thick here, and even the inept Grim could feel it.
Mounting the stairs leading to one of the large arching entrances of the Istien University, Grim was met politely by a tall Elven musician. Probably either a high ranked student or a teacher, the man quietly asked him which School and Classroom he was looking for. Grim simply chuckled softly and ran a hand through his hair, not entirely sure what to say. After a moment of thought, his optimism-edged voice came out in a bundle.
“Well, you see, I haven’t exactly enrolled in the school as of yet. I was hoping you could very well direct a fellow such as I to a place which within I may place myself upon the list of students here.”
The Elf took more then just a second to think about the words then smiled and nodded. Opening the door, he put on an air of kind superiority and gentle guidance as he led Grim into the school. The roomed they entered opened up as a large lobby. The entire building was of magnificent design, almost indescribable in its pure dedication to aesthetic value. Not exactly an architect himself, but moderate in physics, the building seemed to defy gravity, arching and hanging in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Though it was very unnatural, a pure unrequited aspect of nature was integrated into every aspect of the design. It felt as if you were standing in a marble jungle though you knew yourself to be inside a building. In all simplicity, it was beyond the imagination of Grim to know how they build this building. He barely even noticed when the Elf began speaking.
“You are in the Turlin School, is that where you want to be? It doesn’t matter where you enroll, enrollment applies for the entire University.”
Grim nodded and grinned, surprised that he had managed to get the right building.
“Yes, Turlin, that’s exactly where I had propositioned to present myself at this precise juncture in time. Now, where may I sign down my information and begin my lessonings?”
Excited and anxious, Grimoir went through the procedures and paper-work doing that an Elf secretary put before him before he was asked a few questions about his knowledge on music and magic. After deftly demonstrating his absolute ignorance on both subjects, the female Elf that was helping him laughed with him for a bit then suggested ‘Philosophy of Magic’. A brief comment about how Grim had always considered himself a philosopher ended the polite conversation and he headed down a hall with a map in hand. She had also suggested that he think up an instrument to learn so that he may further his studies in the school.
Now I must learn to create music from a untalented heart. I wish it false what they say about true music coming only from birth, not training. I’ve never failed to learn anything before, and I refuse to fail here.
Approaching the room designated by a mark on his map as his correct class, he pushed on the wooden-appearing door and entered whilst shoving the map into an inside coat pocket. Glancing around the room his eyes caught notice of a few windows and large desks strewn through the room with several organized yet empty chairs filling the room. An elf, which he was not yet sure if it was male or female yet, stood at one of the windows gazing out over the gardens of Eluriand’s inner city.
Coughing to announce his presence, he spoke up with a meager tone that didn’t fit his age.
“I’m here to learn about this sing-song magic you Elves prize so very dearly and I admire with adoration in my heart of hearts. I’m unskilled in music as of yet, but hope to learn before my time here is done. I am to become a master, you see, and I do not intend to stop until I do. Now, can you help me get started along that path?”
Finishing with a kind laugh, Grim twined his fingers and stood with relax, waiting patiently for an answer. Deep inside his mind he felt the line flux, but held it in hold. Breaking soul here would be fatal at best, and could possibly even get him expelled from this school before he ever started. Closing his eyes for but a second to concentrate, he abolished the line and ignored the existence of his others. They were not to be a part of this school.