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< Iron Horse's Prelude | Red Ice Logs | The Fourth Student >

• Xansha Niestro smiles slightly at the correct answer. "Yes, Kinqueduran, that's right. The first circle demons are much like animals, minor expressions of the Yozis. They are multitudes of the same creature."

Her angular face is framed by dark hair cut in a boyish style and her plain clothes are unflattering, simply functional. The only bit of decoration on Xansha's entire person is the ornate Daiklave strapped at all times to her back. Looking down her crooked nose, the Elder appears questioning. One of the few concessions she makes to appearances is the tall-legged chair that boosts her short form above her students as they lounge around the great hall of her Citadel.

"And you've read the books I gave you, Anstice?"

• Anstice Cyzarin nods. "Yes, Niestro."

Xansha Niestro: "And what did you think? Do the Yozis make sense now?"

Anstice Cyzarine "I am not entirely sure that I will ever fully understand the Yozis. Every time I think I have their nature pinned down, I find an exception."

Xansha Niestro: "Of course. You will not. If you do, we will have to slay you. Do you understand better the reasons for the Primordial War?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "That I do, yes."

Xansha Niestro: "Explain it to me."

• Xansha Niestro folds her hands on her lap, sitting back slightly in her chair.
• Anstice Cyzarine: walks through the most basic of the reasons first, going back into detail on the earlier points after that, and managing not to be entirely too academic in his explanation, though Niestro can probably identify the passages he's thinking of by language similarity.

Xansha Niestro: "Well, at least you can memorize..." she shakes her head lightly.

Anstice Cyzarine: "I'm not entirely sure what you mean... I would have assumed that the detail given there would be more important than putting it into the terms I personally think of."

Xansha Niestro: "Understanding is most important. Do you understand what you are so glibly repeating back?"

Anstice Cyzarine: "Only in the manner someone who has no personal experience with such can, I am afraid."

Xansha Niestro: "In between your physical training and assigned readings, I am going to have you copy a book. When you finish copying it, read it. Then give the copy back. And tell me what you think after that."

• Anstice Cyzarine nods, not entirely surprised at the added work. "Of course, Niestro."
• Xansha Niestro rises from her chair, gesturing for you to follow. "Come along. Kinqueduran, remain here and begin your physical exercise."
• Anstice Cyzarine obviously follows, if a bit nervously.
• Xansha Niestro leads you into her private study and waves for you to sit in one of the spare chairs, giant poufs of stuffing and plush fabric in a deep crimson. "Here. This is the book. You may take it to your room, but don't take it anywhere else. And be careful with it, another student of mine made this copy for me some time ago and I'm rather fond of it."

The book is a massive leather-bound tome of a thing, tooled binding and covers with complicated patterns and symbols crisscrossing the entire surface, multiple pictures overlapping each other without apparent pattern. Old Realm characters scattered over the front indicate this is "The Journal Of A Soldier in the First War."

• Anstice Cyzarine: takes a moment to appreciate the binding, and then another, finally running a finger carefully across the seemingly intentional path the characters make. "I see. I will take the utmost care with it."
• Xansha Niestro nods. "Good. Now, off to your room. You can make up the physical training when you've copied the first chapter. I'll be awake, come and find me."
• Anstice Cyzarine does indeed head off with it, cradling it carefully. The copying goes surprisingly quickly for someone as determined to get the text juuust right. He does take a little extra time before heading off to find Niestro, though, as he doesn't want to seem too careless in the copying duties, and it's nice to get loose before training.

Even so. the first chapter is a good gross of pages in a book nearly as thick as your outspread fingers. The introduction page has, penned in a flourish of violet ink, "To my first pupil and love, by Rising Dusk Feathers". The book seems to be a journal of this Rising Dusk Feathers, an Endings Caste who fought in the Primordial War

Anstice Cyzarine: Besides... it's hard to resist reading as you go along, so in the end it comes out about right for a slower copyist before he meets Niestro.

The moon hangs fat in the night sky and the other students are long asleep, Kinqueduran resting with heated bags of sand resting on the sore muscles Xansha's work outs leave everyone with. Despite being in the best shape of any of you except Iron Horse, the poor Red is pushed harder then the rest because, obviously, he should excel. He's a red! Xansha doesn't leave much room for slackers, even ones she imagines.

Anstice Cyzarine: For not the first time, Anstice is glad he's a green.

< Iron Horse's Prelude | Red Ice Logs | The Fourth Student >