Horace had gone down to The Cloister just to relax. Half of the student population was gone for the break and he felt he could be alone for longer amounts at a time, which he loved. When Horace got to bored to even stand himself he started scanning the area to see if anyone else was around.

The area was pretty bare except for a few other students around but they seemed involved with themselves and their own conversations. When even time seemed to slow down, Horace let out a huge sigh. He wondered if he got anybodies attention.

Man, the ups and downs of your parents being in Mugroba for a month. You get to be alone but you quietly go insane.

Besides the Library, Nathaniel liked to do his homework in the Cloister. Beautiful, serene, and for the most part, quiet. He wrote many papers on the well cared-for grass. It was in this place that Nathaniel was just finishing a minor paper on a topic of Static magic that he owed to Professor Mars.

As was his habit, he had his tongue stuck out slightly between his teeth, scribbling down the second to last sentence in the conclusion of his analysis essay when he heard a startlingly loud sigh not even three meters away off to his right. He paused with his pen suspended over the parchment. Glancing off to the side, he spotted the source of the interruption as a tall boy who looked to be sightly younger than him.

Nathaniel glanced around some more, finding nobody else within ten meters of where the other boy was lounging around. Did he need something? It definitely sounded like a bored sigh, which wasn't unjustified. The campus was largely deserted for the rest of the week, with everyone who stayed behind's friends gone and the unlucky ones bored. Nathaniel had no one to go back to visit on a holiday, not anymore.

"Yeah, I feel you. Brunnhold just isn't the same without the usual thousands to rub elbows with," he gave a wry grin.

"You got that right, mate. The only people I bump into now are some of The Everine." Horace glanced over to see an Everine walking by at that exact moment. "Wow, what are the odds?." Horace whispered to the golden haired boy.

"I'm Horace by the way, Horace Aquila. What might your name be?" Horace said. "For some reason you look familiar but I just can't stick my finger on it. By any chance would you know Angus Worhting or Nauleht Siordanti."

Harte had no intention of screwing up like he had the previous week, and was sitting, as unobtrusively as he could, off to one edge of the cloister, working on some kind of paperwork while occasionally glancing around, looking for trouble. The mornings of the Fives and Sevens were his days to proctor in the Cloister. He didn't approach any students or try to join in their conversation unless they came to him first, though, knowing that The Cloister was supposed to be a place for students to come and relax. But he was prepared to step forwards if any dangerous magic or fighting started...

Nathaniel's wry grin spread, if only a little bit. He inclined his head without moving from his spot. He recognized the surname the instant he heard it. Aquila, the long-lived traditional family of musicians. I'm guessing he's the latest in that old clan's lineage, he thought interestedly.

"It's a pleasure to meet one from such a talented family of musicians. You must be proud of it. My name is Nathaniel, and yes. I know a certain master Siordanti," he paused, and then took a stab at conversation. "So, how come you've decided to stay here? We're here almost constantly and I can think of a few more interesting places in the world to be."

((SFSP ))

"Wow you think my family is talented. I mean people recognize the name but I don't see what they mean when they say my family is talented. We just do what we do best, play music." Horace was lying through his teeth. He loved to be noticed and have his talents recognized.

"Believe me if I didn't want to stay here. My family is in Mugroba at the moment. My father is performing for the king's court and my mother is painting a portrait for the young little monarch. They wont be back until the end of the break, ironically." Horace actually like being at Brunnhold, just when it was a little bit more entertaining.

Nathaniel's eyebrows raised a little. To both preform and take commissions from royalty!

"That's quite an accomplishment! Am I right in guessing that you yourself are following in either of your parent's footsteps?" He took a moment to jot down what he wanted to say in the last of his essay and tucked everything back into his satchel.

"It's not that big of a deal. My family is always performing for the outlandishly powerful." Horace had just met this student but was already loving how awe struck he was. "You're right, I am following in my Father's footsteps. I am a violinist, but I am nothing compared to my father or his father, they have real talent. Sadly I never inherited my mothers artistic talent. I can't draw for anything." Horace was right the best thing he ever drew was a doodle in Everus Dex's Religion class.

"Might I ask what you were just writing? It looked like an essay."

Nathaniel smiled lightly, seeing through the other boy's vehement self-depreciation. Eh, it's not really that big of a deal. He seems like a good kid, I'll play along for now.

"Oh, the essay I just finished?" he asked, tapping lightly on the body of his satchel. "I've been gone for two weeks until only three days ago. Needless to say, I missed a lot and I'm playing catch-up. This was an analysis research paper for Professor Mars."

"Wait, you're in advanced Static too? I am usually too focused on the lesson to notice who else is in the class. If you don't mind me asking, why were you gone for two weeks? Did you get into trouble with the school when you got back?" Horace was intrigued, he had never met somebody who was gone from Brunnhold that long.

Nathaniel felt slightly uneasy about discussing the nature of his absence, but he would have to get used to it. At least, that was what he supposed.

"Well for one, I'm not stupid as to get in trouble over such a trivial act of rebellion," Nathaniel gave a light smirk. "I had permission to leave. And as for the matter me disappearing, I had to go home and take care of...family business."

Nathaniel had stressed that last part of the sentence in just a way that he hoped that Horace would clearly understand that he did not want to discuss it further. At least, not until he got to know him a little more.

Horace was, sadly, oblivious to Nathaniel's subtle request. He had never been the best at understanding why people kept secrets.

"What type of family business? Has something bad happened to your family?" Horace presumed it was the death of a family member. "I am sure your family will recover from the loss. I hope I am not wrong to presume a death?" Horace could feel his heart churn, He had been over the death of Zara for sometime but he still couldn't handle the word.

Nathaniel could feel his own field turning into razors at the edges and tightening protectively around himself on its own accord, a reflection of the raging feelings inside of him. Horace had no idea. Both of what he was feeling and how accurate he was being. He took a quick deep breath to steady himself.

Even now, he still wasn't really for this.

"You speak of a dead family quite lighty," Nathaniel's wry grin became noticeably tight. It was all he could manage to say.He wasn't angry, just really stressed about talking about things before he was ready.

"How would I speak of them. I have found out in life that you mus not take death so hard." Horace couldnt help but think of Zara, his long lost love. "You must understand that Alioe has a path for all of us and we must follow it, devoutly." Horace didnt know where all this was coming from. He wasnt usually a religious man but for some reason something had taken over him. He needed to find a way to express himself and Alioe seemed like a good anology.

"I lost someone a long time ago. I have learned to got over it but not to forget her. I sulked for the longest while. It only made my life worse. Celebrate their life, don't sulk about the halls like a ghost." Horace was feeling actually starting bad for Nathaniel.

Nathaniel's brow didn't furrow as was expected. He was above this stupid situation. He did not enjoy being patronized, especially by a younger student.

"While I sympathize with your previous loss, you did not ever have to arrange and watch the funerals of your mother and father," he growled with an edge. He stood up, biting back vile words. Why did everyone feel like they had something to teach him?

"Don't talk down to me like you know what happened. You have had the benefit of distancing yourself over time. I've only had hardly over two weeks. If you knew anything about ghosts, you would have known not to disturb one if you met one. Good. Day."

He slung his satchel over his shoulder and stormed out of the Cloister.