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[Nkemi pezre Nkese]

Afternoon, 34 Dentis, 2719
Lecture Room, Richards Wing, Clairvoyant Building

Nkemi stood at the front of the small classroom with its rising seats in rounded rows, next to the low, square table. She had drawn the monite runes and symbols around it in neat chalk earlier in the day, tracing them into the floor one by one in a well-memorized pattern. Once the lines were drawn, Nkemi had rolled out the heavy copy of the map of the Rijards wing, and weighed down each corner with a smooth, well-worn rock, with small monite symbols detailed into them. She had smoothed the map last with her hands, studying it bright-eyed and enthusiastic, and set a small tray of ink just below it, on the edge of the table. Only then had Nkemi stepped back out of the spell circle. She waited, behind it, watching the students trickle in to the classroom, including one unexpectedly familiar face.

It was very cold in Brunnhold; it was not so cold inside the buildings, at least, for which Nkemi was grateful. She imagined that students could not learn very well if they were too preoccupied with being cold. She wore her favorite orange scarf wrapped tightly around her head, tucked into itself, and a thick gold-colored sweater, which was very warm and somewhat too long. She wore also the warmest pants she had brought from Thul Ka, which had already proven too thin for the weather – especially as Nkemi had woken again this morning to see a thin dusting of white snow, clinging briefly to the ground. She was glad that she had bought the heavy boots which had been recommended to her; at least her feet had not gotten wet walking through the campus.

Professor Andressa Jacquemoud stood on the other side of the table, all her gleaming red hair piled up in a bun secured with sticks; Nkemi admired it, though she thought the professor robes of Brunnhold sad and a little dull in comparison in Thul’Amat. Andressa smiled at Nkemi, and winked at her; Nkemi grinned back, cheerfully. She had not been sure what to expect in this professor, who had done her graduate studies at Thul’Amat, and was a contemporary of Nkemi’s mentor. She had found her warm and friendly, and much more excited by Nkemi’s own work than she had expected. Nkemi had written tentatively, unsure if Professor Ruedka’s note had even reached Brunnhold, and received back a lengthy, enthusiastic missive, and a request that she come and give a presentation in Brunnhold.

“Good afternoon, students!” Andressa did not quite raise her voice, but it had the sharp crack of authority in it, and all of the students fell silent; the room turned towards the front, conversations dying out, notebooks shifted against desks. Nkemi looked wide-eyed up at the room of students. It was not so intimidating as it had been to cast before her tseruh committee, but she could not think of having had such an audience before – especially not with all their pale faces, and so much bright red hair.

Andressa smiled. “As you know, we are fortunate enough to have a special visitor today. Please welcome Junior Subprefect Nkemi pezre Nkese of the Windward Market district of Thul Ka,” she smiled over the table at Nkemi. “She is currently on secondment to the Seventen, with a posting in Vienda, and has been kind enough to visit us for this demonstration.”

Nkemi grinned back, and grinned up at the room of students. She bowed, deeply; she felt the warmth of the title all through her, lifting her spirits. She felt grateful, too; a little pulse of it went through her field. Andressa was already smiling; Nkemi felt her return the pulse, her more powerful field of soft clairvoyant mona comfortably caprising Nkemi.

There was a polite scattering of applause.

“Subprefect Nkemi,” Andressa continued, “will be demonstrating for us today a version of her honors project from her studies at Thul’Amat. I shall let her make further introductions.”

Nkemi bowed again, more lightly this time. “Thank you, Professor Jacquemond,” she said, politely. The name was pronounced very differently from how it was written; Nkemi rolled the consonants carefully through her mouth, the vowels as soft and lilting as ever. She grinned at the class. “I am very pleased to be able to share this project with you.”

Nkemi took a deep breath. “There are many challenges which we face in clairvoyant conversation,” Nkemi said with a little grin, her hands settling behind her back. She found what she thought of as her prefect posture, drawing herself up to every inch of her slight height. She looked around the classroom, curiously, her eyes settling first on this student, then on that, and never quite lost her smile.

“One is the difficulty of interpreting that which it is we see,” Nkemi continued. “We search for information in a sentient mind; even when we frame our question well, and the mona respond, it can be difficult to convey that which we find,” she grinned. “My project focuses on the transmission of information through the medium of static casting,” Nkemi explained, “with a specific case study: the creation of a map from the scryer to the witness.”

Nkemi glanced down at the table in front of her. She took a deep breath. She did not think of other maps, of casting alone over a map of Thul Ka, with too many emotions to name swirling like colors through her heart. She did not think of casting in Thul’Amat before serious, set frowns of professors and other students alike. She looked up at the classroom, instead, at the bright, curious faces before her, and grinned a little wider.

“I think it best if I make a demonstration,” Nkemi said, cheerfully.

"Mr. Swinton?" Andressa ased, raising her eyebrows at the student in the front row. "Unless you've changed your mind about assisting, Nicholas?" The student rose.

"Mr. Swenton,” Nkemi explained, “will be the witness for the spell. He shall choose now another location in the building, and wait there for several minutes,” Nkemi grinned, a little sheepish. “Then he shall return, to tell us whether the map was correct. After, I should be very glad to take questions about this spell, or anything else you may wish to ask!”

Nijoles bowed, a faint smirk on his face. Andressa had said that she did not think he would make it easy; Nkemi was not sorry for this. It seemed to her a good opportunity to practice the casting of the spell; it was not so easy, always, to find proper maps.

Nijoles left, then.

Nkemi waited a few moments, and, slowly, stepped into the circle. She knelt, and took a deep breath, focusing her gaze solidly on the map. She began to cast, then. Her tone was friendly; she called upon the mona respectfully, but cheerfully too, enthusiastically. She began with the clairvoyant component of the spell, reaching out for Nijoles’s mind; her field flexed etheric in the air around her, the clairvoyant particles blanket-soft.

Nkemi found the connection, and held on, transmitting her request for information to the mona with easy, well-practiced words. The request faded into the leybridge; now Nkemi dipped two fingers into the ink, and set them lightly on her location in the map, their classroom marked with a small pencil x.

Nkemi breathed steadily through the static cast, mingling clairvoyant and static conversation as she wove. The softness around her became warm; she felt it draped over her shoulders, wrapping around her, comfortably.

The ink beneath Nkemi’s fingertips began to move. It trickled out, slowly, tracing a long thin line through the paper; it crept forward, out of the classroom, and turned down the hall; it turned, again, and again, and, went down a mapped staircase onto the next floor; it wound about through the halls, and settled in a small alcove at the far end, drawing a long, thin line between them, broken here or there, but easily traceable. Nkemi curled the spell, studying the map before her. She lifted her fingers up; there was no trace of ink left upon them.

Nkemi rose, then, and looked down at the map. She grinned up at the classroom of students before her.

Andressa led the applause; she spent a few moments discussing the spell, asking one or two students to recall and explain the meaning of several clauses.

The door opened, then, and Nijoles entered, smirking.

Nkemi grinned at him. “Welcome back, Mr. Swenton,” she bowed, carefully, and gestured him to the map.

Nijoles came forward, and glanced down at the map. His eyebrows rose; his eyes went slightly wide. “That’s right!” He said, surprised. “But I went downstairs – I didn’t think – “ he flushed, abruptly, coloring in all the space between pale freckles.

“Thank you, Mr. Swenton,” Andressa said with a grin. “You may take your seat.” She gestured him back to it.

Nkemi had grinned down at the map, as he spoke, and then shone her smile back up at the classroom.

“All right, students,” Andressa was still grinning as well. “Any questions for Subprefect Nkemi?”

Rolls

Clairvoyant locating: SidekickBOTToday at 8:57 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (4) = 4
Static transmission: SidekickBOTToday at 8:58 AM
@moralhazard: 1d6 = (4) = 4

[Pleasance Hedgethorne]

Lectures held in the cold of the autumn and winter months, for Pleasance, were far preferable to those that were held in stuffy audience chambers in the middle of Roalis or thereabouts. At least in the colder months she could regulate her comfort levels with a capelet, standard issue from the uniform code of Brunnhold. This was often trimmed with a bit of fur when she could afford it. She’d only just visited a tailor with some mink fur she’d bought from a trader, and now her caplet was lined with the comfortably warm furs. Otherwise, she wore her winter uniform, consisting of finely woven wool. She still had some lingering moisture on her shoes, from when she’d trudged through the snowfall on the way there. The droplets of snow were swiftly dispelled with a short incantation, and a dismissive gesture of her hand. Thus the water sloughed off the leather of her shoes, and beneath the seat in front of her.

Once that was settled, she rested her chin on her hands and watched as the professor introduced a familiar face. That was that Mugrobi woman that she’d met in Vienda! There she’d made a short visit to a candyman, trying to acquire some ‘party favors’ with limited success, held up by the Mugrobi’s appearance at the Candyman’s wagon. She suppressed her surprised expression, however, and maintained eye contact with the presenter.

Idly, Pleasance glanced around the room, to see if she noticed anyone else that she recognised in the lecture hall. But for the most part Nkemi had her undivided attention, as she was introduced,including her full titles and position. Seventen… Interesting. So she was law enforcement! This brought up many more questions as the lecture proceeded. Especially the idea of clairvoyant conversation paired with static.

The demonstration was an impressive one. The ability to track a person remotely via a clairvoyant connection and then record their path through a map seemed like it could be very useful, especially to one in Nkemi’s mode of work. She was determined not to let her paranoia get the better of her. But at the last, when they called for questions and comments from the students in the hall, Pleasance was among those who raised their hand first, ”Hello Ms. Nkemi. First, welcome to Brunnhold. This was a very impressive display, and I can see the use of it in investigative purposes… However I have concerns. Would you not require a warrant in order to track someone in this way in your work among the Seventen? Or do you have free reign to use just about any magic you please? I’m a little fuzzy on the laws regarding arcano-ethics.”

She lowered her hand, after giving her piece, and then went silent waiting for an answer. She was interested not just from a scholastic standpoint, but also for her own protection. It wouldn’t do to have people stalking each other with this kind of ability. Which was precisely what concerned her.

[Ezre Vks]

Richard's Wing

Afternoon on the 34th of Dentis, 2719

Ezre had been looking forward to the guest lecture hosted by Professor Jacquemoud since he'd first been told about it last week. She'd seemed particular about making sure the Hoxian was made aware out of the small class of upper form, advanced Clairvoyant students, though he had no indication that she favored the tattooed ninth year so much as she had more than once singled out his less than conventional thought processes when it came to uses and methods of the Conversation.

Ezre was, however, more tired today than he'd planned all those weeks ago. Autumn brought the end of the school term, which meant final projects, term papers, and exams. Anaxas had a love of paperwork above example, unfortunately, and it was a cultural difference from the academic atmosphere of Frecksat that the Hexxos Guide had struggled to really overcome, so wired to show and do instead of explain and record that he found the expectations of Brunnhold frustrating and exhausting. He'd sought the quiet of the Crypts, far from his suite mates, but of course, he'd not refused Lilanee's companionship.

Reading for the comparative anthropology class they actually shared had turned into a lengthy discussion about what little had been kept of records about Shotha centuries ago before the Lost Kingdom closed itself off from the world. That had in turn taken a detour into a spiritual discussion about how each Kingdom had chosen their patrons from the Circle, about whether or not the Circle was actually complete, for there were hints in crumbling old scrolls that perhaps, just maybe, the gods had once numbered more than ten. Preposterous as it was, of course, that side trail had digressed further into forgotten religious practices of other cultures, into Hexxos tattoos, and, finally, accidentally, totally unintentionally, into wandering hands and lips.

In retrospect, studying together was very distracting and the upper form lack of curfews meant that what little sleep Ezre had managed to scrounge from the last hours of the night were totally insufficient to be entirely attentive in the one class he'd been so eager for today.

The heat of Yaris had faded swiftly, and the snow on the ground from the night before had been a welcome sight to the groggy Hoxian that rolled from bed and faced the daily struggle of that ridiculous Brunnhold uniform, too scratchy and too warm for this season in the Kzecka-born galdor's opinion. He poked his way through what was edible at breakfast, much more nourished by conversation than by whatever had been served. He'd deftly navigated icy paths to his morning classes, skipped lunch for time at the Gyre, and still managed to make it into his seat near the middle-back of the Richard's Wing Lecture Hall too early to realize that taller students would definitely sit in front of him. Ezre was also early enough to be able to see the marks on the floor near the front of the room drawn in chalk but not early enough to at all appreciate how the golden slant of afternoon sun made the room too warm, groggily settling into the wooden chair and feeling heavy once he'd prepared to take notes.

Perhaps he drifted a little, the murmur of other students arriving with the wash of their individual fields—invisible signatures and wordless, unspoken forms of expression—lulling him into a moment of non-thinking. His dark eyes were studying the blackboard, trying to decipher the faded Monite written upon it over the decades ... and then, all of a sudden, a bright voice cheerfully greeted the class and he startled, very awake.

Had he been asleep?

Blinking, Ezre leaned to peer around the shoulder of the taller student in front of him—Dalinnae Thayek—was a typical Gioran, pale and statuesque and domineering in her confidence. She was an aggressive communicator, invading vestibules during Clairvoyant exercises like she longed to be born a Da Huane. The smaller Hoxian leaned to get a glimpse of the petite Mugrobi, listening to Professor Jacquemond inform the class that the young woman dressed just as bright as her smile and her lilting desert Kingdom accent was a Subprefect—perhaps something like the Karmine or the Seventen, he imagined—and had studied Clairvoyant conversation at Thul'Amat.

The dark-haired Guide was immediately invested, shifting in his seat to peer further around Miss Thayek's shoulder, only for the graceful blond icicle of a student to also lean, resting her elbow on her desk to support her sharp chin.

Subprefect Nkemi spoke of interpretation and how ambiguous it could be and Ezre was forced to listen instead of see, curious about the use of a secondary magic to build a visual reinforcement. The creation of a map? With Static conversation? The promise of a demonstration had him scooting just a little more to the edge of his seat, a little more once Mister Swenton left the room, a little more as he felt the motion of Clairvoyant particles in the air, the sensation familiar and comfortable, and finally a little more—

Thud.

That was too far, apparently.

In his attempt to get around the Gioran in his way and see the Mugrobi and the map she'd laid out so carefully with her prodigium, Ezre had slid himself right out of his chair and onto the wooden raised section of the floor in the middle of the class with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. He said nothing, apologies barely a Hoxian afterthought, culturally speaking. Any form of sorry he'd learned in Estuan had been an Anaxi adaptation, really. He hardly blushed, either, shoving a loose page back up on his desk and choosing to sit right there on the step where he'd fallen to make sure he had a view and to keep from further interruption.

The tattooed ninth form cared little for the glares in his direction as he curled his arms around his knees and watched with very rapt attention. He picked apart Nkemi's enthusiastic Monite phrasing, thoughts dwelling on her leybridge into static while his dark eyes followed her fingers. They dipped in ink and he might of held his breath in curiosity, the mona obeying her carefully woven-together spellwork with fascinating results.

The ink moved!

It crawled across the map on the floor, trailing a dark stain in a very obvious path as if it were a shadow chasing the boy who left the classroom down the hall.

Ezre's eyes widened in fascination—he'd not considered such a clever combination of conversations, nor had any class suggested such a thing. Mugroba's focus on Clairvoyance clearly opened the path to totally different opportunities, it seemed. He might have gasped, inhaling sharply once Mister Swenton returned and revealed the path traced was, indeed, correct.

Subprefect pezre Nkese looked up with such a grin that the Hoxian felt it necessary to glance away, to look down at his well-worn shoes, and to use the moment to slip back into his seat while hands raised with questions. Dark dark eyes might have strayed toward Miss Hedgethorne and he resisted arching a delicate eyebrow. By Bash's heated patience! Anaxi legal matters were so convoluted and as a culture, the Anaxi people were always so hung up on second-guessing the gods-given order of things.

He waited, as calmly as possible beneath the weight of his well-honed rhakor while his heart thrummed against his inked chest and his thoughts danced with possibilities. He waited out several questions until he finally attempted to reach above Miss Thayek's blond braids, raising his hand in the Anaxi acceptable fashion of obtaining permission, strange though it was.

Professor Jacquemond acknowledged the Hoxian and he stood to be seen, meeting Nkemi's gaze after looking down at the map one more time, tattooed hands folded together in front of himself in perfect, attentive posture:

"Thank you for your demonstration. Please excuse the related questions all at once: What are the distances you have tested with this sort of spellwork—as in, how far have you been able to track individuals? Must they be willing witnesses, prepared for your contact? And have you found ink to be the most effective Static form of expression?"

Half the class must have turned to stare at the Hexxos Guide as if they could feel the enthusiasm in his otherwise usually deadpan tone of voice. He stood and ignored it, countenance bright with interest. Ethics and emotional entanglements over racial issues aside, Ezre wanted to know how it all worked!

[Nkemi pezre Nkese]

Afternoon, 34 Dentis, 2719
Lecture Room, Richards Wing, Clairvoyant Building

Nkemi watched, bright-eyed, as students around the classroom put their hands up. The pride of the spell was still warm in her chest; she could not help grinning at the green-clad figures, with all their bright faces.

Andressa called on one of the students in the first row. “Yes, Mr. Charington?”

“Good afternoon,” Jarengten rose. He had a mop of thick, curly red hair, a heavily freckled face, and pale golden eyes; the tie of his uniform was loosened, just a little, and the sleeves of his coat pushed up. “Thank you for the demonstration, Subprefect Nkemi,” he said, politely. He grinned. “Have you used the spell to track down criminals? Like – real ones?”

“Mr. Charington,” Andressa said, her eyebrows lifting.

Nkemi giggled. “It is all right,” she said, inclining her head. “Yes, I have. Once.” Nkemi said, a little more solemnly.

“Ms. Hedgethorne,” Andressa said after a lighter question about mechanics, turning to the girl Nkemi had met in Vienda.

Plesans Heggthorn asked a different sort of question, and it did not escape Nkemi’s notice that the girl was curious about the workings of Seventen investigations. She grinned at her, friendly, all the same. “I am very new to the Seventen,” Nkemi said politely, “and so I cannot answer with confidence about their methods and procedures, although I am confident they were designed with great thought and care for rendering justice in Anaxas.”

“I can offer instead something of how it is done in Thul Ka,” Nkemi said. “There are some spells which a prefect may use freely in investigative work – static spells which can determine the presence of particular compounds, as one example. Other spells, which are more intrusive, can only be cast under certain conditions. I would seek out a writ from a magistrate before using some such, and even with permission, the evidence would be weighed accordingly when presented before the courts, given the inherent uncertainty in many casts. A prefect is taught to use many tools, Ms. Heggthorn,” Nkemi grinned at her, a little wider.

There were more questions, then; Nkemi answered them, bright-eyed and cheerful, unfaltering. When she could not answer it, she told them that as well; she did not pretend to any knowledge or expertise which was beyond her. At the same time, she did not downplay the accomplishment of the spell; this too, Nkemi knew, was not honesty.

“Mr. Vks,” Andressa called.

A Hoxian boy rose from behind a tall Gioran with hair as pale as all the snow Nkemi had seen. The light caught strange shapes tattooed dark over his face. Nkemi smiled at him, and her grin only widened as he kept on, asking eager question after eager question.

“I am very pleased by all of these questions,” Nkemi promised. She glanced around the room again, and offered an even-brighter smile, and turned her attention back to Vickes. “The answer to your first two questions is much the same, I believe,” Nkemi said. “In principle, the spell should work with any scrying which opens a ley channel to a witness. The invocation used and the strength of the caster will determine the distance and whether the witness must be willing. There may be exceptions; I have cast it several different ways.”

“That said,” Nkemi said with a little frown, thoughtful, “usually the spell is cast under some uncertainty as to where the witness is. Therefore, a detailed map may be difficult to come by over some too great distance; if the map is not precise, the result will not be precise either.”

“I have found ink to work very well,” Nkemi continued, cheerfully. “After much experimentation and the ruining of several maps,” she grinned, and a giggled scattered through the classroom, “I have settled upon an ink which contains some particles of metal, which can be withdrawn from the paper with a static spell as desired. But I have not tested sufficient other materials to say whether it is most effective.”

“Excellent questions, class,” Andressa checked the clock, and turned back to the students, smiling. “We have time for a few more, after which I’ll release Subprefect Nkemi – and all of you. Are there any other questions?”

A few more hands shot into the air, waving back and forth. Nkemi turned to face them, her enthusiasm not yet remotely dampened.

[Aeinsa Zahaarina Salifa]

Brunnhold University Lecture Room

on the 34th of Dentis, 2719 Afternoon

Rina settled into class, a smile brightening her face as she saw the extra person in class. Professor Jacquemond had mentioned there was going to be a special lecturer, but she had not mentioned that the woman was Mugrobi. Seeing someone else with Mugrobi blood in the class filled a small hole in Rina's heart that she hadn't known was there.

Rina's peers generally didn't care that she was half-Mugrobi, differences in skin color being less important than differences in the ability to use magic. But, children being children, she had still dealt with some teasing from her peers about her skin color and hair texture. She had learned to let it roll off her back, but there were times when she wished she lived around people that looked like she did. As disastrous as her stay in Thul Ka had been, she missed being around a bevy of people who had skin colors that were outside the pale canvas of the typical Anaxi galdor's skin.

As usual, Rina was near the top of the room, her wheelchair being unable to move to the front of the room. She had a clear view of the Mugrobi woman, though, which she was immediately grateful for once Professor Jacquemond described why the Subprefect was there. She had been working with her supervisor on a way to try to transmit blueprints via clairvoyance. One of the main duties of a University Liaison was to facilitate research, but the process could use some more efficiency. They could send the gist of the information, but any detailed blueprints or data had to be sent via courier. Rina was determined to figure out some way of at least sending over a basic idea of what the blueprint would look like to try to speed up the development of the product on the other end of the Conversation.

Totally enraptured by what was going on, she barely noticed when the Hoxian fell out of his chair. She listened to each answered question, her mind swirling at the possibilities. When Professor Jacquemoud asked if there were any other questions, she raised her hand.

"Thank you for the presentation, Subprefect! This is fascinating and the possibilities and permutations are endless. I've been working on something faintly similar with my mentor, though it's been a bit of the opposite – we're trying to transmit a map, rather than tracing a track on an existing one. How did you settle on combining Clairvoyant and Static?"

[Ezre Vks]

Richard's Wing

Afternoon on the 34th of Dentis, 2719

Ezre had listened to the other questions and answers, giving the Mugrobi Subprefect his full attention when she replied to his combination of curiosity, sifting through the information given thoughtfully. He bobbed his head in a slow, respectful now of acknowledgment and thanks, sliding back into his seat to allow other students to ask their questions.

The tattooed Guide didn't look back over his shoulder, but he knew the voice of the young woman who spoke up next. He had heard bits and pieces about Salifa-vumein’s own research project, though he'd not made connections about similarities before. Tilting his head to at least give notice to her presence, even if he'd learned it was somewhat rude in Anaxas to let one’s gaze linger in interest if it could easily be mistaken as staring (something that wasn't at all a consideration in his homeland of Hox), Ezre was interested in the answer, for he figured it would reveal more of the Subprefect’s thought processes.

The Gioran in front of him also raised her hand with a slow, languid grace like some pale, marble statue suddenly brought to life and the Hoxian let his dark gaze follow the stretch of her unmarked fingers before he looked back down toward their guest and his professor.

"How do you adjust your spell-work for all of that as-mentioned uncertainty?" Her vowels were so lengthened and pronounced in stark contrast to the Hoxian's emphasis on consonants in their almost opposite accents. Both from mountain homes, though only the tall, pale galdori chose to hide away from the harsh landscape by burrowing inside the rocks like frightened hingles. At least his people faced the weather head-on—

Dalinnae was still talking, adding quietly to her question, "When you are reaching for an unwilling or unaware witness whose location you do not yet know, what are your conditional clauses? How do you address the mona for such a search?"

Ara!

Ezre’s dark eyes widened as if Thayek-vumein had read his mind without his permission, delicate brow arching in interest while he leaned again, just so, on one elbow with a little more care than last time, attempting to peer past the taller, paler student in front of him to see the smaller Mugrobi officer in front of the class. He thought of his various ideas for attempting to search for Lilanee's father, supposedly lost somewhere in Western Anaxas and totally unaware that someone would be searching for him—Clairvoyantly, at least. The dark-haired Guide had considered the endeavor, of course, but had thus far come up short with any reliable ideas on how to plan out attempting to discover whether he was living or dead.

Either way, honestly.

The problem would be locating a witness who might not know where they were, especially if anyone wanted to actually find them.

Nkemi pezre Nkese's demonstration was quite a curious inspiration.

[Nkemi pezre Nkese]

Afternoon, 34 Dentis, 2719
Lecture Room, Richards Wing, Clairvoyant Building

Ms. Salifa,” Andress said, lifting her gaze up to the girl sitting in a wheeled chair towards the top of the lecture hall.

Nkemi lifted her gaze to the girl; she stepped lightly to the side for a better angle, her own height a detriment when it came to seeing through the rows of pupils. There was the faintest quick brightening of her already wide grin at the sight of the student’s curly hair, dark and thick enough that there was no mistaking her antecedents. If her accent was surprisingly Anaxi, at least from the Thul Ka prefect’s perspective, there was not the slightest fading to her smile.

Nkemi nodded at the substance of the question. “When I began the project,” she said, seriously, “I intended to follow the approach of incaustomancy, and hoped that the relatively straightforward nature of the information,” she paused, and grinned a little more, “and considerable hard work would allow me to circumvent the need for a trio of casters. I found, however, that this approach was beyond what I could manage individually.”

“However, for what I wished to convey, I still felt that an ink-based method would be both of convenience and practical,” Nkemi explained. “Static conversation, which I had enjoyed the study of very much, felt a natural fit for the manipulation of ink particles, although I did not and do not believe it the only way forward. My thinking was also influenced by the writing of Qali pez Anamadhi, whose unpublished manuscript ‘On the failures to transcribe the message of a seerstone’ was most instructive.” She paused, and grinned. “I do not know if Professor Qali’s writings may be found in the Brunnhold library…?” She turned to Andressa, lifting her eyebrows.

“There are several of his books here,” Andressa said with a smile. “None of his unpublished manuscripts; I believe Thul’Amat keeps a hold of those. Students,” she turned back out to the class, “anyone who wishes to do further reading based on today’s demonstration will be able to find a list of suggested – available - readings pinned to my door by tomorrow afternoon.”

“There are many paths that the water may follow through the river,” the Mugrobi added, cheerfully, looking back up at Ms. Salifa with a warm smile. “I hope to hear more of where yours leads you and your mentor, in time.”

“Last question, students,” Andressa said, smiling. “Ms. Thayek, please.”

Nkemi smiled at the taller Gioran student, standing as straight and upright as she had before the casting of the spell; she did not bother with the wearing of her solemn prefect-face before this audience, but she stood and held herself with the benefit of all that training.

Nkemi inclined her head lightly. “These are very important questions. Today, as you will have heard, I used the follow clause to target the search for Mr. Swenton,” she recited the monite in clear, even tones, one of the parts of the spellwork that Andressa had not asked the students to parse themselves. “This I have found works well for a witness whose location I know in a general sense – so I may describe the building or the rough area in the second part of the tempering – but whose precise whereabouts I am unaware of. It is a fairly standard modification from one of Professor Eloi pezre Jaeyi’s spells.” She named the Thul’Amat mainstay with a smile.

“In general,” Nkemi said, thoughtfully, meeting Ms. Dhaeq's gaze, “I have not found the clairvoyant portion of the spell to differ significantly when interwoven with the static spell than when cast independently. As prefects, we are sometimes called upon to assist in the finding of a man or woman missing, when the local guard cannot do so through secular means,” Nkemi straightened up just the tiniest fraction more. “A spell like Raza pez Amin’s finding of the hands which held, or Professor Lafiya pez Bole’s linking of the body could easily be tempered for such a purpose. However, the more tenuous the connection, the more difficult it is to extract the precise information.”

Nkemi paused. “The question of broader location is more difficult,” she added, “and presents a larger challenge. If it is not known what neighborhood of Thul Ka to search, or – perhaps – what city of Anaxas, often the best my spell can offer at the moment would be to enable a narrowing. I have found that it can work with maps of varying scale, but the level of detail returned depends, very often, on what the mona have to work with. In this case, however, when the question is targeted to a broader geography, the requested information is often easier to access. As with many spells,” Nkemi grinned, brightly, “it comes down to balance.”

“Very well, class,” Andressa nodded lightly to the room. “Please show your appreciation to Subprefect Nkemi.”

There was a burst of applause; Nkemi bowed politely at the front of the room. “Thank you, again, Professor Jacquemond,” she turned, bright-eyed, to the rows of students, “thank you also, all, for your attention and your questions! You have shone a light on me, and I am grateful to be illuminated.”