Laur had gone out to the neighborhood early, not wanting to get caught up in something else. She made it a point to be early to most things. As a child, her father had told her the old rule that if you are early you are on time, if you are on time you are late, and if you are late, well, you've just wasted your time, and Laur followed it to a T. On a rare whim, since, although she was at school, it was the weekend, she had dressed out of uniform in a blue-grey dress inspired by Hoxian fashions. Supposedly there was a Hoxian ancestor somewhere far, far, far back, but Laur just rather liked the design and colors. Today, she had covered her shoulders with a shawl, not wanting to catch cold again. It was obviously not a formal event; wearing the matching hairdo would be silly. Instead, she left her hair down, but braided two pieces and tied them in back. Visual interest. Perfect. Hopefully it wouldn't be ruined by the slight red tinge of her nose or the small dark circles under her eyes.

She sat on a wooden bench somewhere in the neighborhood, drawing diagrams to include with her biology paper due the next day in a small notebook. There was a small pocket sewn into the bell sleeve of her dress for carrying things, and she had decided to put it to good use. Her tiny purple glasses were perched on her nose. There she sat, umbrella next to her in case of rain, which was sure to come, though now only a cool breeze was blowing the clouds through a grey sky. Waiting for Horace, wherever he was. Where was he? She'd imagined he might have been a bit more punctual. He was certainly gallant enough, saving her from further embarrassment on the Lawn. She'd woken in the infirmary a few minutes after he'd brought her in, Naul's spell worn off, freezing and with a fuzzy memory. Apparently she'd been brought in in the arms of a tall boy. That she knew. He must have run off right after, being rather late for his formal dinner. One should never be late to those, she supposed; she wasn't angry that he had rushed off. The fact that he'd taken her in, though, confused her.

The twentieth was one of the best days of that month for Horace. It had been quite some time since he had leisure time, he was surprised he was spending it with Laur. He hadn't seen her since he left her at the infirmary, he hated to just run away while she drifted in and out of consciousness but sadly, the formal supper was more important.

Horace walked up the main road of Two Falls, one of his favorite neighborhoods in Brunnhold. It made him feel like art was the truest form of expression. He was wearing one of his favorite coats out of his wardrobe. It was crimson colored with gold accents, it truly shined in the sun. Although, he hadn't seen the sun in about twenty days. Under his coat was a burgundy vest, and dark grey pants. If someone didn't know Horace they would have thought he was dressing for a special occasion.

When he finally spotted Laur, he waved. He didn't think he saw her though because she seemed to be preoccupied with a sheet of paper. From Horace's distance it looked like she could be sketching something.

When he was finally walked up to Laur, he peered down at the paper she was drawing on. He didn't quite understand what she was drawing but it looked like a mutilated earthworm. Horace would have remarked on it but he thought, To each his own ... I guess

"Hello Laureline. I hope I did not keep you waiting." Horace checked his pocket watch. "I seem to be right on time."

"Oh, excuse me, I was finishing a diagram for my biology paper. It must look rather gruesome." She put her glasses and notebook in her sleeve pocket, and stood. "No, you're not late; I'm just simply early for everything. It's a good policy. Shall we go then?" Her dress was straightened out as well as her hair--she was actually quite proud of her outfit for today, and thought she looked rather nice. "Are we just going to walk around the district?"

When Laur stood up, all he could say was, "Wow...". She was obviously wearing a Hoxian inspired dress, it made her look rather cute. "You like ... nice, Laureline." He barely saw any of the girls out of their uniforms, Laur made him want to see more.

"Oh yes, I was thinking since it looks like the rained has lightened up ... slightly, we could stroll around this lovely neighborhood. Take in the sites, hopefully see some work of art. Maybe make a day out of it. I was wondering how you were doing since the sixteenth and this place always makes me feel better. It could do the same for you" Horace smiled, showing his caring side to Laureline, once again.

"Oh, thank you very much, it's nothing special." She chuckled a bit. It kind of was. But according to the books for some reason it was improper to say so. "And that sounds lovely. I suppose you're some sort of artist, with such an appreciation for it? And I'm feeling much better. Thank you for taking me to the infirmary, by the way. I doubt I would have been able to take myself." She looked up at him, tried to smile nicely. "Well, lead on. I don't know my way around Two Falls."

"Oh yes, I am some sort of artist. My mother is a painter and my father is an accomplished violinist. I have taken after my dad in the music department." Horace chuckled. "I am not half bad at painting either. A piece of my mother's is on display in one of these galleries, I forgot the name though."

Horace started to stroll down the street. "Two Falls is a rather large neighborhood, it is probably best I lead." He said, smiling down at Laur. He pointed out some of his favorite establishments for a few minutes. Then he remembered something Laur said back at the bench.

"Oh and you're welcome about the sixteenth, I guess it was just instinct. I would have stayed with you, but I could not be late for formal supper."

"Oh, really? It's good to have something you like to do. I, unfortunately, do not do anything such as music, or art, of any merit. I've carved out my spot in Brunnhold as the constant studier. This has enabled me to be quite good at magic and academics, but leaves no time for anything else. If there was a club of people like me, there wouldn't be. We'd all be begging off club meetings to go study for a test we had three months in the future. I'm attempting to branch out, but I think I'm a little late for the musician club. Don't you all start playing with toy instruments from birth?" She noticed a gallery along the other side of the street that caught her eye, for some reason or another. "What's in there? Do you know? Should we go look? I honestly have no idea where we are. I barely leave my room, though in its defense it's quite nice. I hated the communal dorms. Didn't you?" Laur was suddenly aware that talking was a nice thing and she should probably do it more often. She settled her shawl slightly off her shoulders, exposing some. It was quite a nice day right now. "Just a note--if it starts raining, you have to hold the umbrella."

"Oh that's the gallery! That's where my mother's painting is housed!" The sign above the giant show windows read "Leron's Portrait Gallery". Horace took Laureline by the hand and led her across the street. "I think we should go in. They have such wonderful portraits housed in here." I am pretty sure my mother's painting is in the back. Horace was too excited about the portrait gallery that he completely forgot Laureline's question about the communal rooms.

He had touched her hand. It was...strange, to say the least. He had nice hands, although they were rather huge. Laur had tiny little dainty hands, a perfect fit in little gloves, but today she hadn't worn any.
"Oh, good, we'll have to go see that then. Just show me the way, and I'll follow. I'm terrible with new places."
The inside of the gallery was quite warm, and nice. All around, on the walls, which were painted a neutral shade so as not to mess with the colors of the pieces, were framed paintings in many styles. She wasn't an artist, but she was an art appreciator, and she was certain Mrs. Aquila's painting would be quite nice, if not amazing.

Horace looked in awe at all of the portraits. There were plenty of famous galdori faces. He saw old headmasters, kings, queens, writers, musicians, and artist.

"This way." Horace said, leading Laur down a hallway filled with portraits. "I'm pretty sure it's right here." Horace stopped right in front of a giant portrait. A plaque under the painting read "Jaimeson Trajan by Mania Aquila". A long face stared back at Horace and Laur. He had a stern, almost menacing look to him, almost like he was seeing into their souls. He had blonde hair and rich blue eyes. The background was a solid green. His mother was never good at backgrounds

"So what do think? This is a writer my uncle illustrated for. That's how my mother came to paint him. I think he wrote some sort of book on some healer stuck in an all human town."

"Oh, that's very well-done. I think I may have read that book, actually." This was of course true. Laur had read mostly everything she could manage. The book had been perused when she had finished exams seventh year. She considered it rather mediocre at best, but this portrait of the author almost made her remember the book fondly. Perhaps that was the point of it. "Her brushwork is quite fine around the eyes. It really looks quite real. Has your mother done any more work for galleries? Your family seems quite the group of artists." She thought for a moment. "Perhaps I'll hear you play sometime, hmm? I'm sure it'd be an enjoyable experience."

"Oh thank you my mother is quite the artist. She has such great talent, I am so proud she calls me her son." A smile had spread across his face. "I remember when I was a child, she was trying to teach me to paint. I was not very good. When I was accepted into Brunnhold, mother made sure I was put into an art class. I have developed a better understanding of visual art, I guess. My first love will always be music though."

Horace started viewing some of the other paintings in the gallery, he was impressed by such the talent one person could have. "Well not for galleries, technically. She does commissions. A person will pay her a sum of money and she will paint them. She gives the painting to the commissioner, not the gallery. A few of her commissioners have donated their portraits to galleries. So her work is in several galleries throughout the country. She even did a portrait of me recently, It was such an amazing gift. It really was."

"Oh yes, it would be a treat if you heard me play. I have been playing since I was four, so I have plenty of practice of playing around others, and they have said it is a nice experience. I hope they are not lying." Horace smirked. "I think you would like it."

"Hmm. I'm sure I would. They can't have kept you playing for so long if you were terrible, after all. Unless they were just humoring you." She smiled at him gently, to let him know she was joking. It was most definitely softer than her usual smirk. She squeezed his hand gently, on a whim, then let go, quickly. That wasn't proper at all. Why had she even done that? Why did she smile? She'd probably scarred him for life. In truth, her smile had been perfectly normal, but Laur had been told by her mother that she didn't smile right many years ago, and every time after that when she'd looked in the mirror, and she was sure she still smiled like a serial killer on drugs.
"These are all beautiful," she said, attempting to get them talking again, somehow.

Horace was stunned by the sudden squeeze of his hand. Not many people had deliberately held his hand before that. He gasped, looking at his hand as if it was dissolving right there and then. He probably couldn't tell but he was blushing.

He sat there in silence for a minute, staring into space. He then looked down at Laur to see how she looked. She was smiling. From what Horace has seen of her, she had never smiled. Most of the time she had a hollow look on her face.

Could that just had been an odd twitch? If it was, why is she smiling?

He was going to ask her what happened, but then she mentioned the paintings, again. "Oh yes, they are quite beautiful. Would you like to stroll through the neighborhood a little bit more, Laureline? There are some beautiful statues down the road more."

Yeah, it must have been a twitch.

It was not a twitch, and the smile still showed on her face when she answered him. "Of course! That'd be lovely. And please call me Laur. No one besides substitute professors ever uses my full name. It rather annoys me."

Today was going rather nicely. But where would it go from here? She pulled her shawl more closely around her as they walked out the door of the gallery.

Horace was still confused about the smile on her face, it was so out of character. He wasn't complaining though. He was happy that she was happy. As they walked down the road, he kept glancing down at her, the day wasn't turning out so bad.

"So Laur, what's your family like? You seem to know everything about my mother now. What's yours like?"

"My family? Well, my mother is rather like me but with an extra dose of ice. She's perfected a disdainful look that could freeze you to your place if you aren't careful. She was a Static major back in the day. also apparently there was a big scandal when she married into the family. She's four inches taller than my father, and according to the elder Almonds that was barbarically 'stretched.' No offense to you, of course. The elder Almonds are quite batty by now. My grandfather has apparently had intelligent discussions with blueberry-lemon scones. He says the strawberry ones don't talk, though. Funny. My father is a very little man, though slightly taller than me, and he enjoys whiskey and having a good laugh, except when he's angry at someone, which is a terrifying sight. I'm sure I don't know everything about your family. You probably don't know everything about your family."

"Well, it seems you have quite the family. A very interesting bunch." Horace's family was a different breed of galdori. They were artist, slightly more liberal than most. His family's view of the lower races was still rather conservative, though. Horace's view was actually more radical then most of his family.

"Actually, my family seems to be more open than most other families. My father taught me a lot about life before I came to Brunnhold. He was very straight forward. never hiding the truth." Horace pondered for a moment. "You know, I don't know if that was good or bad for me? I guess I have to wait and see."

"Ah, yes, very interesting indeed. We're quite the eccentrics. However, none of us are artists. A shame, really. We just go a bit strange as we get older, is all. One could write quite a nice story about us if one put their mind to it." She continued walking down the street with him, occasionally looking up. "You know, this is quite the pretty neighborhood. It's funny I've never been here before."

"You've never been here? Seriously?" Horace chuckled briefly. "I thought that every student had at least been here once, if not more. I thought almost all history classes went to the museum of antiquities for field trips." Horace wasn't go to press the matter any further, he was just confused. Almost all students he knew loved Two Falls and frequented it. Well, most of the students he knew were either Art or Static majors. Two Falls was their drug of choice.

Horace and Laur were coming up on a beautiful fountain. It was carved with an old man with fourteen stars above him. Horace wasn't sure what it meant. He had always passed it, pondering it's meaning.

"Do you know what this fountain represents? I sure don't."

"Oh, you don't know that story? The fountain is referencing an old legend called 'the Ten Gifts.' Your parents never read it to you?" Laur's parents hadn't, but she imagined others would have. "It's quite a nice reproduction of the end of the story, I think. If you haven't read it, you should. I think I may have a copy." This was a lie. Laur knew she had a copy. Laur had a copy of nearly everything. If Laur didn't have a copy of it, it was either in the Library and needlessly expensive for her to have her own, out of print for too long, or not worth reading. "And I may have been here for that, but I certainly don't remember it. I've taken lots of history, but perhaps I didn't go on the field trips or they weren't memorable."

"Oh a copy? That would be much appreciated, this fountain makes me want to read the story." The fourteen stars shimmered, they must have been trimmed with gold. It looked as though the fountain cost a fortune to make. Horace was happy it was created though. If it wasn't for the fountain, he would have never known about 'The Ten Gifts'. "Do you like the story, Laur? I know that just because you have read something that doesn't mean it's a good read. I usually pick my stories and novels on referrals."

"Hah. Yes, you can borrow my copy. And I think it's a good story. Certainly not the best ever, but I only own things I've enjoyed. Most of the books I have here I borrowed from my father's library when I left. I return the ones I've finished on breaks. I'm still not quite done yet. My parents own quite a few books. Currently I'm working on learning other languages. I usually have my current read on me, though I'm bagless today. Father got me a book of operas in Heshath when he last visited there, so I've been figuring them out. Languages aren't that hard. I wish they offered more classes on them here. I have so many free periods this year...there's just nothing I'm interested in taking anymore. I'm sure you're still finding things to take, Horace. I certainly did sixth year. I forgot what I took, though." She sat down on the edge of the fountain, pondering. "Do you think it's going to rain again?"

"Oh, yes. There are plenty of classes I am discovering this year. I have been put into plenty of intermediate and advance classes. Professor Prichard is my new history professor, he is very intelligent. I have learned more this year about history than I ever did my first four years here." Horace thought about his third year with Professor Figg, not one of his favorite professors. "Have you ever heard of Professor Figg? He is the Anaxi history professor. He is a monster of a man. I mean, he is nice, but he gave us hundreds of paper." Horace was exaggerating, he only had to do four papers that whole term, but that year was not one of his best, academically. A girl had gotten in the way of priorities. "Have you ever had a treacherous professor?"

"Ha. I had him either first or second year. Can't remember now. There were only a few papers! I get at least that many a month in my simplest class now. It gets more difficult as you go on, but you must rise to the challenge. My father always said that. I don't know exactly what challenges he ever rose to, but perhaps he didn't and he simply wants me to. Parents are very confusing. Especially when they have sayings.

"I don't believe I've ever had a professor I couldn't handle. There were some who didn't like me, yes, despite my best efforts to the contrary, but I handled them and did the work and they gave me appropriate grades. It's how that works. I believe I had Prichard a few years back. Possibly the same year as you. They all run together, after a while. I can't believe I've been here ten years. It seems much less, really. Can you believe you have only four years left to go? It sounds like an eternity now, but it won't be later. You'll be wondering where they went."

She thought for a moment, fidgeted with her skirts. "So how did your lesson go with Stephanie? I've been planning to have one with her for weeks, but I never have the time. Especially this week, with that accursed spell cold. I'm quite happy it didn't morph into pneumonia on me, or I wouldn't be here. It's turning out to be a rather nice day for the middle of Loshis, actually."