Chapter 4
*
Dean Gareth had seated her in his office, and had sat down at his desk, facing her.
"Where are you from, Liara?" he inquired.
Liara did not want to tell this man about herself. She did not want to give him a reason to discriminate against her. "Why do you need to know, sir?" she asked in return.
The Dean was surprised as her expressionless tone, and stared at her carefully. Her face was completely expressionless, and her eyes held nothing but glassy shadows. He did not see life in that face, and inwardly he shuddered.
"We send messages to a Chosen's family, to tell them about what happened." He replied at last, still gazing at her.
"I have no kin to send a message to, sir." She replied.
Gareth had Thoughtsensing, and Empathy, and he was shocked to find no emotions tagged to this comment. She felt no grief or pain as she spoke of being alone in the world.
:Seren,: He sent to his Companion :Ask Deilan what happened to her!:
:He won't say,: came the worried reply. :He just says that he came too late.:
This worried Gareth more than just a little. If she had gone some severe emotional trauma, and wouldn't even talk about it - They might just have a dysfunctional Monarch's Own.
He continued his questioning while deciding on a mentor for the girl. She was fifteen, two years older than most of her yearmates, so he could chose someone her age and yet more experienced in Colegium matters.
"I've decided on a mentor for you." He told Liara. "She's two year groups ahead of you, but she's exactly your age."
He guided her through a maze of hallways and into the Heraldic Colegium. There he showed her to a medium sized and extremely plain bedroom, which he allocated to her. After that, he sought out the trainee he had in mind.
"Kirstie!" He called to the girl walking downstairs. She turned around quickly and climbed back up again.
She was a friendly looking girl. She was shorter than Liara, with shoulder length, dark blonde hair, which she had pulled back in a tail. "Sir?" she asked, smiling at the new girl.
"Kirstie, this is Liara. She's the one Deilan brought in. Do you think you could look after her?"
"Certainly, sir." The girl nodded, before leading Liara back down the stairs. " It's dinner time, and if we don't hurry, we'll be late." The hurried down the stairs together. "So where are you from? I'm from up near Rethwellan, in some small town you won't have heard of."
Liara stayed silent for a moment before replying. "I'm from Karse." She replied quietly.
Kirstie stopped. "You're joking, surely." She whispered, shocked.
Liara shook her head. "No joke." She said firmly. "But, if it makes me more acceptable, my parents were Rethwellan mercenaries before they got stuck in Karse." She spoke bitterly, now knowing that prejudice would run even higher than she had feared.
Kirstie shook her head anxiously. "It seems so odd." She admitted. "I mean, Jerreth, Deilan's last Chosen, was killed in a battle with Karse. It seems strange that Deilan would Choose a Karsite." Kirstie then, obviously, tried to dispel all her worries. "Well, you were Chosen, so you must be a good person." She could have had no idea how much her words hurt.
*
Liara sat in her room and considered the bare walls. They needed some decoration, to take the echoing dullness away - but what? Liara had no money to pay for pictures.
The thought came to her that she could use her elemental magics to create a display, but what would be appropriate? Then an idea came, and Liara set to work.
She made a hanging on either side of the fireplace, and three hanging above the desk, five tapestries showing all the different aspects of the world.
One - silver and gold in jagged stripes, splitting down from a mess of dark gray embroidery.
Two - a blaze of reds and yellows, licking up the tapestry with sparks of golden thread.
Three - swirls of blue and green, spiraling with silver wisps in complex circles.
Four - a lazy weaving of soft greens and browns, using gentle colours and materials.
Five - A light design, showing whirls of white, gold, and silver, weaving on a creamy background.
The five elements, Lightning, fire, water, earth and air. Each was a decoration, and yet still a warning - for hidden deep within each tapestry, was the image of a sharp and deadly dagger.
*
Dean Gareth had seated her in his office, and had sat down at his desk, facing her.
"Where are you from, Liara?" he inquired.
Liara did not want to tell this man about herself. She did not want to give him a reason to discriminate against her. "Why do you need to know, sir?" she asked in return.
The Dean was surprised as her expressionless tone, and stared at her carefully. Her face was completely expressionless, and her eyes held nothing but glassy shadows. He did not see life in that face, and inwardly he shuddered.
"We send messages to a Chosen's family, to tell them about what happened." He replied at last, still gazing at her.
"I have no kin to send a message to, sir." She replied.
Gareth had Thoughtsensing, and Empathy, and he was shocked to find no emotions tagged to this comment. She felt no grief or pain as she spoke of being alone in the world.
:Seren,: He sent to his Companion :Ask Deilan what happened to her!:
:He won't say,: came the worried reply. :He just says that he came too late.:
This worried Gareth more than just a little. If she had gone some severe emotional trauma, and wouldn't even talk about it - They might just have a dysfunctional Monarch's Own.
He continued his questioning while deciding on a mentor for the girl. She was fifteen, two years older than most of her yearmates, so he could chose someone her age and yet more experienced in Colegium matters.
"I've decided on a mentor for you." He told Liara. "She's two year groups ahead of you, but she's exactly your age."
He guided her through a maze of hallways and into the Heraldic Colegium. There he showed her to a medium sized and extremely plain bedroom, which he allocated to her. After that, he sought out the trainee he had in mind.
"Kirstie!" He called to the girl walking downstairs. She turned around quickly and climbed back up again.
She was a friendly looking girl. She was shorter than Liara, with shoulder length, dark blonde hair, which she had pulled back in a tail. "Sir?" she asked, smiling at the new girl.
"Kirstie, this is Liara. She's the one Deilan brought in. Do you think you could look after her?"
"Certainly, sir." The girl nodded, before leading Liara back down the stairs. " It's dinner time, and if we don't hurry, we'll be late." The hurried down the stairs together. "So where are you from? I'm from up near Rethwellan, in some small town you won't have heard of."
Liara stayed silent for a moment before replying. "I'm from Karse." She replied quietly.
Kirstie stopped. "You're joking, surely." She whispered, shocked.
Liara shook her head. "No joke." She said firmly. "But, if it makes me more acceptable, my parents were Rethwellan mercenaries before they got stuck in Karse." She spoke bitterly, now knowing that prejudice would run even higher than she had feared.
Kirstie shook her head anxiously. "It seems so odd." She admitted. "I mean, Jerreth, Deilan's last Chosen, was killed in a battle with Karse. It seems strange that Deilan would Choose a Karsite." Kirstie then, obviously, tried to dispel all her worries. "Well, you were Chosen, so you must be a good person." She could have had no idea how much her words hurt.
*
Liara sat in her room and considered the bare walls. They needed some decoration, to take the echoing dullness away - but what? Liara had no money to pay for pictures.
The thought came to her that she could use her elemental magics to create a display, but what would be appropriate? Then an idea came, and Liara set to work.
She made a hanging on either side of the fireplace, and three hanging above the desk, five tapestries showing all the different aspects of the world.
One - silver and gold in jagged stripes, splitting down from a mess of dark gray embroidery.
Two - a blaze of reds and yellows, licking up the tapestry with sparks of golden thread.
Three - swirls of blue and green, spiraling with silver wisps in complex circles.
Four - a lazy weaving of soft greens and browns, using gentle colours and materials.
Five - A light design, showing whirls of white, gold, and silver, weaving on a creamy background.
The five elements, Lightning, fire, water, earth and air. Each was a decoration, and yet still a warning - for hidden deep within each tapestry, was the image of a sharp and deadly dagger.