Lyra breathed deep of the fresh frigid air, caught for a moment in the revelry of the winds that dashed against the stones of Kaldun. Young men had many admirable qualities, but few manifested when they were cramped up in an enclosed space for days on end. For one, they stank to high heaven. Additionally, while generally left to her own devices, Lyra had found cause to deal with more than one potential peeping tom. Thankfully she'd spent most of the voyage above decks, glorying in the frigid squalls the others cowered from for the most part. But now the oceans were behind her and here was another great ugly lump of stone, impressive in its size and little else.
A great swarm of students milled about the docks, and Lyra was aware of a sudden, pressing reality. So many first year students... and yet this was merely the start of it. How many second years? Third years? Each and every one of them at least a novice magi. The extent of Kaldun's potential political clout was abundantly clear. What possible force beneath heaven kept these people from grasping the sword? What was the lever necessary to move such a monolithic entity to action? Would they be content to live forever? Forever a parasite, shifting from host to host as the men and women on the mainland fought and bled and struggled? What a sad turn that would be.... Of course, as soon as Kaldun did what was necessary, as soon as it flexed its muscles, it would plant the seeds of its own destruction. But wasn't that better? Every empire must live its time and then die, better than clinging to eternity in a hollow, half-life. Though... truth be told, there was a third option... had the lords and overseers of Kaldun found it? Only time and further study would tell.
An older woman broke away from the press of bodies further up the dock and introduced herself as one Professor Yanshi. Kazma made his little quip, and a few chuckled along, but the professor seemed a bit befuddled. Lyra strode forwards towards the woman, and into the path of a hard-flung, rather sizable leather book. It was a simple thing really, an almost instinctive reaction. A little gust of wind surged against the book, nothing much, just enough force within it to negate the book's forward motion. The book hung in the air for a fraction of a second and in the next dropped like dead weight into Lyra's palm. She cocked an eyebrow at the one who'd thrown it, the intended target wasn't hard to determine.
This lad... which one? Gaius? Yes... Gaius. Lyra's time aboard the cramped little vessel had been productive to say the least, her mind clicking away, storing away little tidbits, little nuggets of information for future use. Gaius, the dwarf, well spoken but possessed of the sort of wit that tended to get most men beaten and tossed into gutters. A summoner, one of the few. And something else. Lyra couldn't be sure, but certain looks... and the lack thereof, suggested that the rather handsome little fellow was proof against some of the more... overt wiles in her arsenal. Bright eyes scanned the title of the book and Lyra offered the young dwarf a ghost of a smile. Her voice flowed steady and calm, touched with an almost musical lilt, and most importantly, loud enough to be heard by most of those present, "Lysentium's Treatise on the History of the Summoner, a valuable tome no doubt. You must watch your step, dear friend, you nearly lost your lovely book. One must always tread carefully, a hard lesson to learn but a valuable one."
Lyra handed the young man his book and pitched her voice for his ears alone, "And yes, I'll agree that some lessons need teaching, but perhaps a more subtle hand might prove more effective."
The girl's eyes flickered down to her feet for a moment, before she righted herself and strolled off towards the teacher. Where her foot had been, a slight film of moisture had flash frozen over the wood and stone of the docks, clear as glass and slick as oil, barely visible until the light stuck it just right. A tiny trail coiled out from that little point and wound its way over to Kazma's feet, spreading in a puddle over all the ground nearest where he stood. Lyra took Professor Yanshi's hand, offering the older woman a surprisingly warm smile considering the ice water that seemed to flow through her veins, "Pay a boy's jests no mind, mistress. Shall we proceed? You spoke of arrival duties...."
