Barely had I collected my satchel and my coat from the cloakroom in the terraced building when there was a shout from behind me.

“Mr De'Erebus!”

Frowning and turning I blinked in the bright sunlight, aware of the gulls overhead. If one of them dared to poo on me I would gore it with my horn. Not that my horns were used as often as I was sure others were - for me it was far more of an aesthetic feature.

The first man to have spoken - the primary interviewer - was hurrying out towards me. Now he was standing I could see that he was tall. White hair showed his age alongside his beard, as did his wheezing. High elves were supposed to cease to age, but this one seemed akin to a wizened human. Excepting the wrinkles.

He came to me as I stood there in the light of day watching as he finished the last step towards me. Then he gave a dashing smile.

“Good. Hello.”

I inclined my head, happier. “Sir,” I replied, “I thank you for making the effort, but you do not need to-”

“We wish to hire you,” he interrupted me. And I stood there, stunned, as my lips parted.

“You …”

“Indeed,” he nodded fast as he caught his energy.

I pulled in a breath, my hand tightening on the strap of my satchel. “I … I do not know what to say. If you felt pressured by my brother in any way …”

“We all have our black sheep in the family,” he smiled, now straightening again. Pausing, he took a moment to settle himself. “You seem genuine and vastly unlike Lord Morningstar. You have gained a place here by your own merit.”

I looked away, my eyes moving to look at the terraces. They were a row of offices, curving alongside the street itself and edging down the hill. Grey stone and black slate tiling for the roof they were houses that did not scream learning, but had enough books at the windows, life within them and robed individuals heading in and out of the doors that one could assume. Behind them, standing bold against the sky, were the three towers that marked where the main university building was. When I had first come to Tor Elythis I had marvelled at the towers, but had come to appreciate the terraces more.

“I never introduced myself - I am Magister Parin Hamil, however, as we are to work together, please call me Parin.” He extended a hand.

Hesitantly, I took it, my heart thumping as suddenly the pieces of my life were falling into place once more. “Charles, please. Or Char.”

He bowed his head, and I reacted in kind as we became properly acquainted. After a while he removed his hand from mine. “Hera will be delighted to show you an office tomorrow. If you do accept, which I presume you do, then be here tomorrow morning at eight.”

I agreed. “I will endeavour to do so. There would only be one reason why I would.”

“And we will learn to cope with your unusual situation.”

They had given Morningstar the honorific of 'Lord’ which bestowed him with a resemblance of respect here. They had also named me as a tiefling, which inferred that they believed his was an aristocrat amongst demons. This placed him somewhere in the feudal system of the hells, which would explain to some degree his nature. I imagined he was to some of them as a king and a god, but to the rest he was a deadly noble who had a slightly nicer brother here. He was known here well, which was already a massive difference to my life at Akashima or Ettermire.

It placed me at an advantage to some degree, in that I was related to the aristocracy, but also at a disadvantage - from the moment that I would begin my career here, I would be subject to rumours. I also would not know who was a spy for my brother. Already I knew that many of them did not care for his ways of threats and lies, but amongst them were those who followed his every word. They could be those who served him, knew the truth about him and I in our identities. Some of them could even be out in the open - like the one who had been terse with me at the interview.

I did not know how my situation had been explained to them, but I knew that they knew I needed time away unexpectedly. Why I needed it was another matter, but I did not want to get into the conversation that every few weeks my brother might decide to kidnap me.

“I will try to ensure it is not much of an issue,” I apologised. “Hopefully I will be able to have enough time to get a message to Madam Hera … or would it be yourself?”

“Either, or,” he shrugged, in a very non-elf way.

Taking a small step back I bowed again. “Thank you Magister Parin. I will endeavour to bring pride to your great house of learning.”