Chapter 6

Every year the three academies' (Barra Velve, fighter's school, Orbb Magthere, priestess' school, and Faer Qu'ellar, mage's school) oldest students met in a large, shared auditorium for graduation ceremonies. Hundreds of surviving pupils from each academy poured into the multitude of seats. In one section, the female priestesses of Orbb Magthere seated themselves, new wizards of Faer Qu'ellar in another, and the fighters from Barra Velve in another sector. Instructors from Barra Velve and "volunteers" patrolled the entrances, guarding the auditorium from any possible interference.

First in Barra Velve's graduating class, Sab'vrae found himself seated only a few dozen rows behind the front and center of the complex, a high honor for a non-priestess. Only instructors and important visitors (such as Matron Mothers' older daughters of the higher houses) occupied the seats in front of him. Orbb Magthere's lead student would begin the ceremony at the center of the surrounded stage.

Though their history together began with the banishment of the Nasandra family from the elder city, Ched Nasad and Menzoberranzan shared much in common in regards to social structure and traditions. Like the larger city, Ched Nasad's graduation ceremony involved evil incantations and bouts of carnal urges among the newly graduating students.

Orbb Magthere's best new high priestess made her way slowly towards the huge, flaming brazier in front of her. The gathered students hushed, transfixed. The female drow stopped, spreading her arms high above her slender, nude ebony body. In a low, haunting voice, she began her incantation, weaving her fingers and arms about the air in ritual gestures. She screamed shrilly, stinging the plethora of sensitive ears about the room. Behind her, three long, thick, rocky curved spikes erupted from the earth, a flaming portal wavering between them. Large, deep crimson red talons escaped from the chaotic portal, digging into the stony ground, heaving the rest of its body through. A balor, a powerful demon from the Abyss, stood before the gaping students, its flaming wings leaving a sinister lighting upon the stage.

Sab'vrae slouched back in his seat, disinterested in the demonic being. He knew well that the new priestess should have no trouble keeping it bound, otherwise she wouldn't have graduated at the top. If problems did occur, the senior priestesses present could banish it back to its own plane. The male drow snorted at the thought. Let the females take care of everything, just like always.

Long ago he'd grudgingly accepted the fact Ched Nasad was a chaotic, matriarchal society, wrapped around Lloth's little finger. That didn't mean he had to agree or like it. The years in the drow city, especially at Barra Velve, had chipped away at his childish ignorance and happiness, leaving him cynical and apathetic to his surroundings. Unlike most other dark elves, most of which were evil and chaotic, Sab'vrae felt no strong pull towards law or chaos, nor towards evil. Goodness and kindness were foreign ideals to the young drow, so, naturally, he felt no allegiance to good, either.

The Balor released a great roar, bringing Sab'vrae focus back to the stage. Its great skull like head looked at its surroundings, slowly recognizing the reason for its summoning. Much like Sab'vrae, the demon grudgingly accepted its fate for the moment. After all, demons were often called for much more tedious reasons. It did let out an annoyed growl, showing its protests to the interruption of its normal daily routines.

Oblivious to the creature's aggravation, many of the students cheered and howled in excitement, fear, lust and befuddlement flooding through the masses of young drow. Male and female students eyed each other lewdly, and before long, mass mingling among the students commenced. Already scant clothing littered the floor, the drow entangling themselves amongst each other.

Sab'vrae watched the spectacle about him in surprise and even mild disgust. Modesty never held a place in drow vocabulary or social settings, but the amass of lusting, adolescent elven bodies left a slightly bitter taste in the Aleanani noble's mouth. He bit his lip, sinking low into his chair, wrapping his piwafwi tightly around himself, attempting to blend into the scenery as much as possible. The thought of having to please a female drow in such a way sickened him, especially since his only view on females was based on his sister, mother, and Vicala. However, he intended to live, so if he must, he must.

Moments passed, and his classmates seemed to completely disregard him. Sab'vrae breathed a low sigh of relief, then instantly regretted the action. Before he'd completed the movement, he felt slender fingers brush lewdly up his thighs, tantalizingly close to his groin. He raised his gaze to see a young priestess he didn't recognize. Probably a high ranked student, judging by her attire, which she quickly discarded. She flashed a feral grin at the noble boy.

"You're the only male I find worthy of me at the moment," she commented coyly, running her fingers through his silky white locks.

"Are you positive about that?" Sab'vrae retorted. Or at least, he wanted to, but wisely bit his tongue instead. Drow held beauty and perfection in high regard -- any sign of weakness or deformity often meant disgrace or, more likely, death. Sab'vrae never considered himself a handsome drow, though, apparently, from the comments he received from females while on guard patrol at Barra Velve, others believe differently. Now, as the unnamed female hastily removed his bluish chain mail armor, he almost wished he did have an unflattering disfigurement.

Sab'vrae furrowed his eyebrows, trying to block out the scene before him. Determined to survive in the evil, insane drow world, even with his bleak outlook, the middle class noble inhaled deeply, reluctantly accepting his fate. The female removed his leggings slowly, pleased at the view before her. Already removed mentally from the ordeal, Sab'vrae gave no reaction, allowing her to take control. That's what mattered to drow women, anyway. Why avoid the inevitable?

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"So, the elderboy finally returns to serve his house." Bhin'ree observed at the entrance of Dilaere and her son into her throne room. Sab'vrae knelt before his mother, still disgusted by his encounter with the young Lloth priestess. Physically, the ordeal was, admittedly, pleasurable, but mentally, the young male wished he could wash the incident from his mind. Memorizing the beautiful female's face in his mind, he already decided to make an effort to avoid her in the future, to deter any possible unwanted encores.

"Did the graduation ceremony go well, Sab'vrae?" the Aleanani matron asked in a sickeningly false doting tone.

"It went… yes, it went well, Matron." Her son hesitated a moment before choosing to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Has Dilaere notified you of your new place in this family, Sab'vrae?" The adolescent elf glanced at his former mentor.

"No, not at present."

"Then he may inform you now." The matron mother nodded to her patron, silently ordering him to explain the situation. Dilaere cleared his throat, surpressing an exasperated sigh.

"Matron Bhin'ree has chosen you, elderboy, to be the new captain of the guard." He finally voiced.

"It is a great honor, dread mistress," Sab'vrae answered to his mother after a moment's reflection. Truthfully, the important rank surprised him little -- noble offspring, especially the elder and more skilled, often took hold of desirable posts once returning to their houses from academy training. However, the promotion didn't pique his excitement or ego, either. He simply accepted the reality of his new responsibilities. Nothing seemed to affect him much one way or the other. Even the affair with the female drow already grew stale in his mind, stored in the unimportant concerns of the past.

Sab'vrae almost hoped his family entered a house war soon. Only the heat of battle seemed to stimulate him much anymore.

Dilaere didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed by the Aleanani male heir's blank expression. Lack of ambition in a drow was a dangerous trait, but hardly his concern if the young male fancied keeping his current station. In fact, he preferred that reality. If Sab'vrae contented himself in the captain's position, Dilaere need not worry about his life and station of weapon master. At least, not from the elderboy himself. Bhin'ree, in truth, decided if Sab'vrae moved forward or not.

He intended to keep himself on her good side as much as possible from the moment onwards, for his own sake.