Khymarah stepped off the small white carriage, her travel case in hand, cloak pulled close to her. Dual colored eyes looked up, taking in the familiar sight of Brunnhold. It felt like an eternity since she'd been here, but it was only a month or so. Since returning from the harbour, the redhead had felt out of place, like a carriage without a destination...a soul without a purpose. All resistance activity had dulled since the rescue, and even Ivan had become quiet, withdrawn. She needed to do something with herself, before she withdrew too.

By chance, she had recieved another letter from Abeline. Their corrospondance had escalated, and Khymarah began to build an idea. A purpose for her now limbo life. It was time to set herself to her magic. It was time to look for a teacher, she was ready to advance herself. After much discussion with the healer, the young woman had decided to return to her school of yore, taking residence in the healers room itself.

Walking through the vast gates of the university, Khymarah made her way to the healers room as the carriage pulled away. She hadn't brought much, just some essentials and a change of clothes. It would be easier to just go shopping for dresses in Brunnhold rather than bring her wardrobe. As she walked, the silvery trinkets in her loose scarlet hair tinkled lightly, catching the morning light. Taking a left hand turn, she glanced up at the very familar building before her.

"The girls dormitory. I haven't missed you at all." She muttered to herself, before entering and taking the path to the healers room. Knocking lightly on the door, she cleared her throat.

"Abeline?"

A vibration from the lighthouse, a song plucked from a long string, and the bridge was gone. An illusion. A trap with light and warmth and music as the lure--

She was falling, falling...

"Abeline?"

That's not my name.

The healer opened her eyes, staring at the solid ceiling. Was it spinning? It wasn't. Not now. Morning. Afternoon? She feared looking at her clock; the movement would agitate the migraine that was swiftly wheedling its way into her skull.

Abeline?

Yes, that was her name. Regrettably.

Khymarah.

Now there was a pretty name. Pretty person, too--

"Bloody hell," mumbled the healer. With care, she slowly slid out of bed. Her first attempt at standing was a miserable failure, thankfully contained in her private quarters. No one would have to know about it.

So few came to visit Miss Abeline Ixbridge, especially since-- but then, Khymarah was just old enough to have not heard about that. Thank the stars.

"Just a minute!" Abe did finally stand, wobbling slightly. Where had her slippers gotten to? And her hair was surely a mess. Not at all presentable. She smoothed down her silken night gown, blushing thoroughly, and tried to tie her robe. Her nervous, fastidious fingers manged only to tie themselves in knots.

Just open the damned door, Abby. Mustn't keep a Lady waiting.

The latch clicked, loudly to her ears, and she gingerly swung the portal open.

Like a pale ghost guarding the entry to a dark cave, Healer Ixbridge stood at the threshold, barefoot, in only her flimsy nightgown and an open, dark-blue robe. Her waves of brown hair, so accustomed to being imprisoned in a bun, frizzed without restraint, forming a savage halo about her head. Compared to the lovely gem before her, she felt alien and untamed and dead.

"Good mor--" Wincing at the bright light of day, she pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd forgotten to wear her glasses. "What time is it?"

Khymarah held her case in front of her with both hands, a polite smile on her face as the door opened. Her smile fell slightly and she blushed a little.

"Oh my, I..er..well its about eleveth of the clock? Not that early I though...I..uh..." She felt awful! Had she come too early?! Was Abe ill, or perhaps, had a guest. Shuffling a little, she looked down the hallway.

"I..perhaps...should I come back later? I can go to the cafeteria and have something to eat?" The red head said in an unsure tone. She'd never seen Abeline without her hair done, her glasses on and in a nighty. In fact, she'd not seen much of anyone like that. Politely, she averted her eyes.

"Eat?" the unkempt healer echoed, whispering as though she'd lost the meaning of the word in her disordered state. She fiddled in her robe's pocket, hoping to find it there.

Out of habit, she bowed slightly, though she wasn't acutely aware of what she was doing. She knew she should have been excruciatingly embarrassed, but her brain was occupied in empathizing with any porcupine that happened to get stuck in molasses while on its way to a funeral. If there ever were such creatures in the past, present, or future, she'd be highly qualified should they choose to hire her for mutual commiseration.

"Oh. Food," she said at last. "I need that. Bread, pastries, something. And coffee." She bowed again. "Definitely coffee. Spare me a moment, and I'll--" She ran her fingers through her liberated hair, glancing down the hall. Was someone coming? "And-then-we'll-have-brunch!"

The door slammed hastily, and Khymarah was again alone in the hall.

Khymarah blinked, pulling back and jumping as the door slammed shut. Her blue-green eyes widened for a moment as she tried to decipher what had just happened. Abe was coming back out...right.

"Alright..I'll just..uh...wait here then I suppose." She muttered to herself, placing her case beside the door and moving to remove her cloak. Placing it on the case, she smoothed out the fine green dress she favored and ran a hand over her hair. Turning, she sat on the small box of essentials, perched, waiting for the healer. Looking down the hallway, she sighed softly. The school was so familar, and such a reminder of poor memories. How would it work this time? Would the students be as cruel to her as her own peers had been? Surely, they would have more manners than to degrade a stranger on school grounds...still...

Old habits die hard, and the redhead dropped her gaze to the ground as a small group of girls walked past.

A few minutes and some mysterious thumps later, Abeline was at the door again. The spectacles were on, the black suit was donned, and the umbrella was hooked over her arm. Her hair, too, had been civilized, if forcefully. For a strict pacifist, she was oddly comfortable with self-inflicted pain, and her uncharacteristically vice-tight bun merged with her headache beautifully. There was absolutely no chance of her falling asleep anytime soon, even without that cherished elixir of wakefulness.

"Sorry," she croaked, then coughed. "Sorry to have assaulted your senses like that. Entirely unkind of me. Now then. Madam, shall we-- oh, your things."

She pressed her back to the door, opening it wider, all the while staring at the box upon which Khymarah was perched (like a bird of paradise, she thought). "Do come in."

Inside, the curtains had been opened, and the grey Hamis morning poured into the little room. The walls were not paneled wood, but shelves--shelves jammed with books, tomes, grimoires, and bizarre knickknacks. A skeleton of a weasel stood posed on one shelf, and on another a tiny brass orrery turned and ticked.

Near the window, an elegantly-carved cherry wood desk supported a small ecosystem of curiosities, ranging from a pot of ink held by a bony hand to a partially-disemboweled clock. The red reading chair beside it bore the luxuriant wear of establishment, as though it had been lounging there for decades rather than a few years. A richly-colored quilt was snuggled on it, draped over a slightly-dented pillow.

The bed was sequestered in the far corner; it was made, and it looked like it had been that way for days.

She motioned weakly to the bed, saying quietly, "I suppose you can put that over there. You can have the bed, too. I'll take the chair, which I often do anyway."

Khymarah looked up as Abe returned, standing and draping her cloak over her arm, picking up the case. Entering the healers dorm with curiousity perked, her eyes roamed over the shelves on the walls. Walking past them, she paused to bend slightly and look at all the intersting and ticking contraptions when they popped into view.

Walking slowly past the desk and its collection of curiosities, she turned slowly, giving the room another once over. It was nice, in a strange sort of way. Very homely, for an Abeline Ixbridge.



The redhead looked to the bed, to the chair and back to Abe.

"Are you quite sure, I don't want to impose myself on you Miss Ixbridge. That would be improper." Still, she could see Abeline was probably not in the mood to debate propriaty, so quickly she placed her case and cloak beside the bed. Offering the healer a smile, she waved a hand.

"You seem a little under the weather, if I'm not being to bold. Why don't we go see about that er...coffee? This can all wait I'm sure." Khymarah didn't drink the bitter beverage, but she did understand that other people did, and that a lot of them couldn't function right without it.

Abe smirked privately as Khymarah spoke. The other woman sounded like she was reading cold from an etiquette pamphlet. The concepts couldn't have been new to her, surely her parents foisted such things on her in childhood, but it seemed it hadn't sunk in at all. No wonder that ruby-headed girl had been so reclusive in school. There was more than one reason she wasn't accepted in student society.. least of all her lovely eyes.

It's a strange twist of history that little Abby didn't try very hard to prod the older girl out of her shell. They could've been the best of friends.

Oh, well. No time like the present.

"Too bold? Not at all. I like bold." The healer exited her chamber with a failing smile.

She was being too open again; it was a dreadfully charming quality in others, but simply a dreadful one in herself. She carried too many of other people's secrets to natter on like other women. Professionals entrusted her with their most delicate and personal details--from birthmarks in the strangest of places to diseases that could ruin reputations.. to mysterious stabbings in the dead of night...

Come to think of it, she really should brush up on counter spells. All the honor in the world could not protect her charge from skilled perceptive mages.

She furtively touched her pounding head, then motioned with her umbrella down the hall. "Onward."

Smiling and offering the healer a small respective nod, she followed the woman out, walking down the familar hallway of her youth. There, the spot where she had waited as the older girls had teased her in third form...and over there, the alcove where she'd taken refuge during more than one lunch break. As they passed closed doors, the redhead wondered how changed her own room now was. Five years was quite a long time, things changed so fast nowdays...months felt like days.

Looking over at Abeline, she shook her head.

"Did you ever actually leave Brunnhold when you graduated?" It was a question of genuine curiosity, coming from someone who couldn't get out of it fast enough.

"I had plans to," the healer replied, stepping out into the overcast morning. She practically stabbed the air as she promptly opened her umbrella. "However, the mechanisms of the universe have a way of not requiting, no matter how ardent one's intent."

Her pace quickened, her boots slapping the inconsequent yet numerable puddles on the cobblestones. A distance grew between her and the other woman, for Abeline was suddenly quite focused on the goal at hand. Additionally, she had grown accustomed to the companionship of a longer stride. It had been some time since she last strolled with a lady, and she had forgotten that they tended to drift at a slower speed (the better to appear more graceful or some rot--she'd received similar training from her Aunt Sagacia, bless her archaic heart).

Abe glanced back and slowed slightly. "I'm continuing my studies here, but I still wish to open a practice in Vienda. Depending on how things go," she huffed at the rain (though it might have been a sigh), "that may be sooner rather than later."

With only a short pause, she breathed, "And.. what have you been up to? How's Vienda?"

Khymarah looked up to see Abeline striding off before her, and with a little start, she lifted her skirts slightly and walked faster to try and catch up. Obviously the healer was not one for a stroll through the gardens. As the woman looked back at her and slowed, the redhead let down her dress, but kept a faster pace then before.

"Vienda..."

Its become a dirty, crime ridden place, grey and unwelcoming wrapped in predjudice and racism.


"Vienda is well. The wicks have been given a little more leway of recent, but the exodus still stands. What have I been upto? Oh, just...painting and studies. A little embroding in the evening." The galdor said softly, giving her last sentace a little more of an empty headed tone, cheeks slightly red. Better the healer think she was stupid than realise she'd been sleeping with a human, flying the sky's, breaking humans out of prison, defying Seventen, hiding resistance members...killling galdori...

"Nothing too exciting really."

Tilting her head, Abe listened carefully to Khymarah's voice. As guileless as she seemed, the lady was not at all vapid. Thoughts were going on, but their precise nature still remained occluded to the healer. That is, provided she was not woefully mistaken regarding Khymarah's depth.

She lowered her own voice, saying, "From what I hear, you're exceptionally lucky."

A day ago, she received a letter from her father. Among general tidings and the requisite concern for her welfare was a bit of unfortunate news. An elderly wick toymaker--a tsat with whom her father had done business since Abe was an imp of small size--had lost his modest shop. It seemed his human regulars could no longer afford his wares, and the majority of his galdori clientele would no longer buy from a wick. Only regret for the loss of a business aquaintanceship was expressed in her father's written words, but she knew he held a high regard for anyone who had skill with their hands. The shop would be missed, most sorely by the previous occupant of course, yet there was not much anyone could do about it.

"I'm glad you're vacationing here," she added conversationally. The hardships of the underclasses were not to be mentioned, but the euphemism-padded inconveniences of galdori were relatively safe topics. "I don't know if you'll be willing to stay so long, but the hills will be quite green come summer. I'm sure they'd make a lovely painting."

Surely prettier than burning warehouses and bloodied marketplaces...

Khymarah nodded with a small smile. Painting...she blushed deeply at the thought. She hadn't picked up a paint brush in a long time...it reminded her too much of...

"That sounds lovely, I believe I may well be here then. It all depends on how long it takes to find a Master to teach me." Her mind wandered...would Ceres be here yet? What would he say if he saw her? Would he...would he teach her? No. Obsurd. He had enough on his plate as it was...still...

"How is Professor Moore? I have not had a chance to speak to him of late I am ashamed to say. Not since the ball actually. I do hope things are well."

Finally, the dreaded question.

Abeline squinted at the morning rainfall; reality itself seemed a silver veil through which she could peer. Whatever was on the other side was not pleasant, if one were to judge by her grave stare.

"The.. research continues well enough," she eventually said. Her umbrella shifted, momentarily hiding her face from view. "However, I.. I do not think the professors tell me everything."

Slowly, she peeked out from under her umbrella, noticing Khymarah didn't have one of her own. She smiled, and tentatively moved the umbrella to include the other woman under its protection.

"But, I've come to expect that of men." With an arch smirk, she added, "They probably think scientific ideas can't fit in my maiden head."

Khymarah watched the healer with a curious expression, knowing that stare. It was that of one who had seen more than they wished to, and did not have the ability to speak freely of it. The professors did not tell her everything....ironicly Khymarah knew too well that comment. Ceres...was he here? She accepted the umbrella cover greatfully, knowing the rain would turn her hair into a wet, curl gnarled mess. And it would take forever to dry in this weather.



An unlady-like snort sounded from the redhead, who quickly lowered her gaze with a deep blush.

"They are fools if they think that Abeline. Women are just as clever as they are, cleverer if you ask me. Silly professors. Perhaps there is something else that holds their tongues, for surely stupidity cannot prevail for too long." She smiled, glancing up again.

"Has Moore found anything more out with his...contraptions?" Khymarah refered to the frightening chairs the professor was so fond of.

Abe smiled at the blushing Khymarah with perhaps a tad more satisfaction than was decorous of a respectable woman. Nothing like a little ribald feminism to deflect an interrogation.. if only for a minute.

Her smile dropped at the second mention of Moore, and she shook her head sharply.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it." A nervous, apologetic curve slithered down her spine. "I-I wish I could tell you. I really do, but the data we have.. what it suggests.. it needs to be analyzed very thoroughly." She absently pushed up her spectacles, hiding her frown if not her disconcerted brow. "Moore's still whipping the math into shape, I believe," the healer stated, her tone a wavering neutral, "though, honestly, I haven't seen him at all the last couple of weeks.."

Once again, she applied pressure to her forehead, and her eyes squinched closed to avoid the sting of the cloud-diffused morning light. Though the sun's position was hidden, its brilliance struck her wherever she looked. It's much too early in the day for this.

Khymarah was an artist, a lover, and a hopeless romantic at heart. As Abeline fumbled her way through the partial discussion of the passive chairs and mathamatics, the redhead could see the faded smile and the flustered expression. A small, altogether catlike smile came to her lips.

"Abeline Ixbridge, are you intersted in Moore? He seems like quite a gentleman, a little ecentric mind, but still. He's rather handsome. Goodness me, and here I was prattling on about work. Tell me, have you discussed it with him?" The young woman smiled, somewhat smug she'd seen through the facade. Then it faded a little, why would Abeline keep such a thing to herself...unless. Oh dear, had Moore rejected her advances? The redhead bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, I pry too much. Please, just ignore what I said." She mumbled, lowering her eyes to the ground. Oh, how she wanted the cafeteria to suddenly appear. Awkward was not her best look.

Abeline blinked, shocked by the other woman's boldness. She did not yet consider Khymarah a trusted friend, and, in her experience, the girls who tended to ask such questions before earning the answers also tended to skip off to their coterie and giggle.

As much as she hoped Khymarah was not that sort, it was all too easy to envision the redhead sitting at a dainty tea table and recounting to Viendan high society the latest chemistry at Brunnhold. And not the interesting kind of chemistry, either.

Blasted women. They were just as bad as men.

These potential replies sprang up, crashed into one another, and failed to be said:

Honestly! Just because we work together--

Can't a woman build a career in the sciences without accusations of hunting for a--

And there's still the possibility that he might be a--


"I believe I shall," the healer snorted bitterly, tugging at her coat. "If you kept carrying on like that, I'd have to revoke my protection." Her tone was sardonic as she waved the umbrella in an only slightly-joking threat.

"Not that it would've mattered much at this point," she amended as they neared the covered entrance to the cafeteria. Abe slowed, sequestering her free hand in her pocket. Khymarah could get the damned door for herself.

Blushing heavily, the redhead moved ahead to open the door, stepping into the Cafeteria and holding it open for Abeline. As she looked around, she felt a little pit of dread in her stomach. Brunnhold. The cafeteria. Students...and lots of them. They were younger than her, but clocks, they were still almost the same students she had attended with.

"My, this place hasn't changed." She said softly as she waited for Abe. There was a selection of breakfast dishes in the smogusboard at the front of the eating room, complete with plates and cups, and kettles with hot beverages. It smelt particularly bacony this morning. With a sudden growl, Khymarahs stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since the early evening of the night before.

It wouldn't have been entirely true to say that Angus was eating his food. If he had bothered to consult a dictionary he'd have seen that he technically was but it would have been difficult to do, seeing as he was busy inhaling a plate stacked high with bread, bacon, eggs, potato and some sort of relish, he wasn't sure what it was. His rate of consumption was not conducive to tasting his food.

He looked up from his morning business to see a red-haired women of such extraordinary prettiness that it would have swayed him quite deeply had he any attraction to her gender. As it was, he merely noted it and wondered if she was a new teacher. She seemed the sort to blush easily.

And 'lo, what was this? Abeline behind her? Was this the pretty friend she had spoken of? Angus raised his hand and waved to them both. He would have called out as well but he was masticating a combination of foods that had no call to be anywhere near each other and opening your mouth while chewing was rude.

"Sorry," the healer breathed as she passed Khymarah. She turned to face the older woman, bowing apologetically. "I tend to be a little crabby in the mornings. I suppose I should've warned you.. but then you might not have come."

A chortle exited her nose as she scanned the cafeteria for a table. She confessed, "I honestly could use the company of a.." Is that--? "..friend." Yes, begads, it is! And he's waving!

"Ah, Master Worthing," Abe hissed through her nervous smile. "You're looking.. well..." She hunched slightly, her hands clasped and placating. "This," she tilted her head at the redhead, "is Miss Theraldon. My friend. Who I told you about."

Her glasses slid along her downturned nose as she made brief, blackmailed eye contact with the boy. Then, when she turned to her companion, her mouth drifted agape and her brow furrowed in bewilderment. There was a short pause.

"Khymarh. This is Angus Worthing. He is.." she wavered, her hand flopping like a dead goose, "a.. fine.. uh.. athlete. Yes. Good climber, too."

If Angus had caught Abeline's stare, heavy with a threat against his reputation, he would have been quite sad indeed. Perhaps surprised to the point of leaving the table and going to the Brunnhold gymnasium to hit a punching bag and think. He trusted Abeline not to bring that up because she had promised not to and because she was a healer. Luckily, he did not catch her eye or meaning, he was too busy looking at Khymarah.

He finished his mouthful, his throat working visibly to dispose of the last of his bread roll, before standing and bowing to them both deeply. Abeline's friend really was quite lovely. She was pretty in the way few people were, without some effort. He did not notice her different coloured eyes.

"It is always a pleasure to make new acquaintances." Angus said, his voice not at all like it had been the last time Abeline had spoken with him.

He was actually trying to sound like an upstanding member of the student body, for once.

"Healer Ixbridge has told me of your involvement in Professor Harper's research, quite a noble pursuit, I don't know many who would be so kind to the sciences. I would be happy to assist you in any way I can, madame." Angus said.

Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth.

Khymarah waved a hand as she followed the healer, curiously watching the boy waving at them as he chewed on what appeared to be a whole platefull of food in one mouthful. Well, at least he didn't open it.



The redhead flashed Angus a smile as he stood and introduced himself, quite a gentleman actually! Bowing in return, she blushed a little. She'd been worried for nothing. The students here weren't the students from five...ten...fifteen years ago - and she'd do well to remember that.

"Why thankyou Mister Worthing. I guess you could call me the silent partner. I don't do any of the scientific side of things, but I help on the sidelines." Folding her hands in front of her, she looked at the buffet, before smiling at him again.

"We didn't quite as outstanding a layout when I went to school here. It's refreshing...and rather apetizing by the looks of your plate."

Perhaps it was a good thing that Angus hadn't seen the healer's look. Too often, her terror and embarrassment could come off as indignation and resentment. She knew this. The tendency had caused her a few.. problems.. in the past. However, there wasn't much she could do about it.

In her view, Angus was in the advantaged position. He was relatively widely known to carouse in bars and whatnot, whereas she was supposed to be a responsible adult with whom the elite could trust their children. Fraternizing with a student, they'd say.. and in a rather risky manner, too.. or so it would seem to anyone who hadn't heard of Angus' preferences (or Abeline's, for that matter).

Angus could deal quite a lot of damage with pure facts, and much more with embellished fictions. What Abe had on him was confidential; she would take it to her grave--or further, if necessary. Besides, a boy so supremely comfortable with himself could hardly be embarrassed about something that happened years ago. No threat was intended, for any threat would have been a pointless bluff.

Instead, Abeline was biting her lip, a breath caught in her throat, as she helplessly watched the conversation unfold. Nothing bad yet...

"Ah, yes, the buffet.. that coffee is looking rather glorious right about now." She smiled weakly, eying a silver pot on the buffet table. Like a knight in shining armor, it stood ready to slay the dragon that was presently chewing her skull.

She bowed lightly to Angus, bouncing on her toes as if prepared to flee at any second. "After we've acquired our comestibles, do you think-- might we join you? If that wouldn't be too much of an imposition?" A nod to the redhead, and she added, "Khymarah will need someone to talk to while I'm busy at the infirmary. I'm sure you'll both get along swimmingly."

Angus had chosen the moment they were both looking at the buffet to take another bite out of his pasta. His innocent expression when they turned back was again accompanied by a throat movement that resembled a snake consuming a mouse.

"Lunch is rather delicious today, please take your time, I would be happy to keep a place for you both." Angus bowed his head in kind at Abeline before directing his attention back at Khymarah. "I would of course also be available to keep you company while Healer Ixbridge is indisposed. It would be my pleasure."

It would also get him out of a history class. History was boring and readily available in his textbooks. New faces were rare as hen's teeth and more valuable than diamonds. Angus hoped she'd want to walk around with him. She was just so sweet-tempered, apparently and delightful-looking and Angus was feeling a bit shallow.

Happened to the best men, really.