Lunas wore a eager expression at the sight of them, never having seen the strange birds from so close. The black sheen of their feathers was deep, a kind of darkness he had only ever seen in the depth's of St. Lorraine's Chapel.
His pulse rose in tempo, spreading a sprout of fear throughout his body before Bai'el pulled him and Enora down the road towards their next stop. The crows leaped into a flurry of black rising into the sky, several of their fallen feathers landing upon their path. Bai'el pulled them again, this time to the other side of the road where they continued a little faster than before.
Lunas wasn't worried, as Bai'el wasn't, but Enora's eyes darted back and forth along the road ahead, like she was on the hunt for something. After several moments of watching the road, her gaze sharpened at the doorway to a small market.
She tugged at Bai'el's coat, pointing and asking "Is it there?" Bai'el gently shook his head and they walked past the store, but he directed the children down an intersecting street.
'Retilan Street...' It was the first street Lunas had noticed the name of, and for good reason. It was easily double the size of the street they turned off of, and far more open.
The sides weren't clustered with shopfronts or stalls, instead lined with thin stretches of dying grass, wooden benches, and the occasional trash bin. At its end stood a partially dried out river, barely serving as a barrier between the two boroughs.
They crossed the stone arch reaching across the river without breaking their quickened pace, only slowing down when they came to another crossing lined with stalls. Bai'el lead them towards a shop they hadn't noticed, before being led towards it.
Across the street from them, a wave of people left a small theatre. Several men in suits and armor, a group of women dressed in the Krail Fire Brigade uniform, and eventually the last of the guests trickled out. One man in a light brown suit crossed the street directly, looking to the undispersed group of other suited men down the road before following after Lunas and the others.
Bai'el didn't bother to look at their pursuer, but he felt him there, staring at them. He closed the brass lined door behind him once Lunas and Enora were inside. A burly man behind a wooden counter to the right of the door nodded to Bai'el, asking "Just you three?" His jaw clenched after the words, tearing a piece off the toothpick between his lips, but his teeth seemed to catch it before it fell, and he continued, "There's no blood to spill here, and certainly none to drink. The boy may enter, " his eyes darted between Enora and Bai'el accompanied by a pointing finger, " you two stay here, away from the door."
Enora started to protest, but barely a word was uttered before Bai'el shot her a stern glance. "The boy is the only one shopping, you will have no trouble from us." He turned his gaze towards Lunas, handing him a thin pouch full of coins. "Follow your gut in there. If the students make a recommendation that piques your interest, don't hesitate to follow it. All you have to do is ask their Shepard for help with the flame prism, and they will take care of the rest."
He felt a little cold, knowing he would go in their without the two who he had spent so much time with since his exile, but he nodded to Bai'el's words and took slow steps through the thin hall.
At it's end, a swinging door waited to be pushed aside, and when he did, he saw three lines of oak tables extending a couple dozen meters in front of them. Bookshelves stood stuffed alongside each table, and countless students in robes and other uniforms wandered about, reaching for or delving into the books surrounding them.
His eyes widened at the sight of orderly rows of dreadfully thick books, horrified at the notion that he was expected to delve into any of them, much less several. A student with red wings embroidered along the seam of his robes approached him, his eyes kind but quick. They darted across Lunas's attire and stature, and in a breathe, the gentle look upon his face fell into one of boredom, like he didn't want to deal with another child.
He gestured towards the shelves behind him, "What are you here for? Ether condensation guides? Or maybe a picture book?" Lunas' face almost fell, but he mustered the words as a flush of blood turned his face a bright red, "I'm here to speak to the Shepard. I need guidance with decoding a flame prism."
Shock enshrouded the students eyes as they settled upon his heart and he muttered something Lunas couldn't make out. He didn't ask what he said, because after the last word left his lips, a fire began to burn within his irises. It grew and took form, two pairs of thin burning wings at rest around his pupil.
"There's a fire in you too, who would have thought. You don't look like your soul burns, and if you're here, you need guidance. The Shepard will provide it. Follow me." He turned and walked down the short steps into the hall, the trim of his robe glittering in the all-encompassing light from the lanterns adorning the sides of each bookshelf. Lunas of course followed, his mind a blur."
'Was that ability from a seal? Could mine do that?', his mind shot between the image of the wings upon the student's eyes and the back of his cloak, as he quickened his pace to keep up with the student. At the end of the centermost hall of shelves, another wooden door stood.
This door was loosely hung too, but it's weight kept it still. The thin iron plates along the edge of the door stretched across its middle in three riveted bands. The student turned before opening the door, looking seriously into Lunas' eyes. "Don't forget to tell her Kuren Ignoss helped you upon entry," a smile took over his serious demeanor as he opened the door and gestured inwards.
Thick candles dripped like stalactites from the ceiling of the room, illuminating the space with a gentle orange glow. A dark spruce desk stood askew to the right in the corner, it's angle only making the disarray of the room more clear. Books stood stacked upon almost every surface, several of the top of the stacks wide open. Wax had made every nook and cranny it's home, little mounds settled on the desk's surface and splattered across the surface of countless books, open and closed.
From behind a thick board he now recognized as an easel as it pivoted, exposing a pair of wide silver framed glasses, surrounded by a mop of curly red and black hair. Spirals of red extended from the mass of black hair like loose springs, the occasionally long lock having intertwined into a magmatic cascade of color.
Lunas was lost in the mess, barely able to tell where the stacks of books and the hair ended, but he glanced down to where he expected a nameplate to be upon the desk, but found himself left stranded, helpless. She was the polar opposite of everything the hall outside seemed to represent, a great hoard hidden behind the orderly rows of knowledge and studious youths.
She almost reminded him of one of his former family's servants, a kind and hardworking lady who had incidentally created more of a mess than she had arrived to see, but her voice pulled that memory deep beneath the front of his mind.
"I smell fire on you boy, have you come to burn down my shop?"