"How shall we start this?" asked Amy, glancing at the pile of notes on the table.
"How about with first year?" Mia said, her arms wrapped around William.
"Well done, Mia, we'll ask you when we need such strokes of genius." Alex said flatly.
"Now, now, Alex, lets not be disparaging," Amy chastised mockingly. "At any rate," she continued, resuming her usual serious manner, "Yes, it is obvious to start from first year, but, how?"
"Hmm," said Alex, dipping his quill into the inkpot.
"What are you thinking?" said Lizzy curiously.
"'Have a good year….' Mia, what did your mum call you when you were eleven?" Alex frowned contemplatively.
Mia blushed. "Sweetheart, or dear."
"Well, sweetheart, that's so dearly nice of her," Tia said with a grin.
"Tia, that makes no sense," returned Lizzy.
"Erm." Tia looked around at them all. "So what? The story makes no sense anyways…"
"Coeptus," said Alex suddenly. "Coeptus de cerno de albeo e caligo."
"Whatever that means," Mia said, rolling her eyes.
"It's Latin, isn't it, Alex?" Lucy said, looking up from the window.
"Yeah."
"Care to tell us what it means?" Amy said tartly.
"The beginning of the separation between white and dark," Alex said softly.
"Why not light?" Amy responded, flicking through the sheaves of parchment.
"Those are all empty," Alex reminded her, in reference to the parchment. "Well, you come up with a basic word for light, Amy."
There was a thoughtful silence.
"Yeah, it doesn't work," Amy said reluctantly.
"Albeo it is," said Alex triumphantly, and continued writing.