💕Amy 💕

Heels clicked as she walked down the museum halls. This internship was proving to be the strangest job Amy’d ever had.

The curator had left everyone written instructions that morning, having stated that he was far too busy to spend the morning with the students, and quickly Amy had realized a glaring contradiction. Were she to follow the instructions to the letter, the wing would become more disorganized than it had started. Now, she knew he had asked not to be disturbed, but she wasn’t going to risk her internship taking a guess at what he meant when he was literally a hallway away. Surely a twenty second conversation could solve all of this.

Maybe he just hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

About to knock on his office door, Amy stopped and turned behind herself at a soft crackling sound coming from the room across the hall. Was that smoke wafting under the door? She opened the door, about to rush in, when she froze, staring. This made no sense. Not Lathalia, as she had expected, but the bursar who had chosen her for the program in the first place. She stood over a metal box, flames licking up dangerously high as she tossed in a stack of papers, then reached down into an open filing cabinet.

“…uuuhm…” The noise escaped her without thought. If she weren’t so shocked she might have hid, or ran, or dove to stop the destruction. Instead she stared, blinking in the doorway. “I was looking for Lathalia…?” She held up her instructions half heartedly.

@murray-magnesium

murray-magnesium

Murray, who had no reason to think Bolaire would leave his office unlocked, much less that another would enter it, hadn’t taken the effort to clamor onto a chair and look over when she heard the door open. Curse tall-person furniture, or she wouldn’t be in this situation.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” she said, calmly. Or, rather, no more frazzled than she normally was these days, which was still considerably so. “I’m not harming the museum, and Lathalia knows what I’m doing.”

She was so, unbelievably, tired. That was the whole reason she hadn’t looked over the table; it was simply effort. She couldn’t get away with giving less than her best, though. There just wasn’t another choice.

She was still a teacher, though. Still a person.

Which is why she didn’t prepare the type of spell that would be lethal to a low level wizard, even though the thought occured to her. It was Sleep that found it’s way into her throat instead.

“I choose you,” she said, not yet letting on, “because you’re smart, and you’re trustworthy. Was I right?”

#amy belle #rp blog #murray-magnesium

Words died on her lips as she took in the situation. That wasn’t the sort of question that led to a normal conversation.

She picked her words carefully, truthfully. “I think that’s sort of situational, and the kind of thing you really should be deciding for yourself privately. No one’s gonna say no to that.”

She glanced out into the empty hallway, seeing no one, and made the decision to quietly close the door so nobody passing by would hear their conversation. Then she hissed, “Girl what the fuck is going on in this museum? It’s so weird in here—and not because of the artifacts. What did you sign me up for??”

Amy tapped her nails on the picnic table, eyes trained on a figure curled up with a book under a large, knotted tree in the courtyard. It was the fourth day in a row she had seen this person sat alone—Zuri, if she remembered right—and she’d started looking out for them around campus. Not once had she seen them talk to a single person. Not that it was that unusual, people often hurried from one class to the next, but there was something familiar about the way their shoulders hunched when they walked. A quickness to their movements, like they might be caught doing something terrible. Like, apparently, reading under a tree.

Her mind was set before she even noticed she’d stood, scooping up her sandwich and bottle of juice.

“Hey sweetiepie, do you mind if I sit with you in the shade?”

@amy-bellevierre

The Penteveral’s collection of books was, simply put, insane. There were hundreds of them, thousands even. Stories and tales from the past, fictional and otherwise. Zuri had never imagined there could possibly be a collection as large as the Penteveral’s, but apparently it wasn’t even the largest collection out there.

And, while inaccurate in reality, it felt as though the collection of books paled in comparison to the collection of students and staff that roamed the halls. The crowds felt overwhelming. Students laughed and talked with each other, always demonstrating the vast amount of connections they had already formed. Not a singular student looked out of place here. It only felt as though Zuri was the exception.

The sound of steps approaching them made the orc freeze. While her eyes still locked on the book, she remained focused on the periphery of her vision, waiting to see who was approaching her.

Zuri only allowed themself to look up when a voice spoke up, truly breaking the relative quiet of nature. They looked up at the figure above them, taking in their appearance briefly. Maybe a few times Zuri had seen her around the school grounds, but it had always been in passing or only for a few moments. And those moments had been spent just trying to maneuver through the halls and get to class on time or find a spot outside to breathe or let Freyr hop around for a while.

A small pause, hesitant, like Zuri was considering what the odds were for the request to be a genuine move and not something with an ulterior motive. After a second, Zuri inhaled and replied with a slow “sure..” as they gathered their stuff to make room for this new person looking for company under the single Dragon’s Claw Willow tree on campus.

“Cool, thanks!” Luckily she had worn a long, flowy skirt today. She knelt beside them in the soft grass, leaning against the surprisingly smooth bark of the tree while she set her things down beside herself. “I’m Amy.” She offered a hand to shake, an olive branch tattooed on that forearm. “I’ve been seeing you around but we don’t have any classes together. I’m studying music and conjuration.”

Zuri let the young woman– Amy, as she introduced herself– sit down beside her. They tried not to let their mind linger on how close in proximity she was. It was fine! Zuri could handle this. Just a short interaction with another student at school. She could do that! Probably. “I’m Zuri,” she responded back, taking just a moment to look down at Amy’s hand before shaking it, their eyes lingering on the tattoo. “That’s pretty. Olive, yes?”

“Oh, uh no, we don’t have any classes together. I’m.. more focused on druidic nature and creature conjuration, so I guess we may have some classes together in the future.”

The question made her smile, something like fondness behind her eyes. “Yeah! In some cultures an olive branch is seen as a peace offering, so I wanted it on my handshaking arm. I figure if I’m giving someone a handshake, it means I’m probably not declaring war.” She shrugged, taking a sip from the cup she had precariously balanced in the grass. “But I guess it’s possible.”

Being a druid explained the animal companion, could even explain a reclusive nature. But it didn’t explain why this person was so antsy at even her presence. Amy decided she was going to find out.

“I got it because as a teenager I was kind of a bitch—I still am, but I’m a little more choosy now. It’s a good reminder.” A wry smile crossed her face as she glanced to see if her joke landed right.

A smile, genuine. She could see olive being a symbol for peace. It was fascinating to get to learn how different flora could mean so many different things to different people and cultures. Not only was there so much to learn about each leaf, each branch, and each sprout, but so many meanings derived from them based off of various interpretations. Zuri wanted to learn about each of them/. Each interpretation, each meaning, each symbol.

“That is very cool,” Zuri responded, trying as hard as they could to not sound strained or awkward in any way. Whether it worked or not, they didn’t know.

Choosy. Zuri’s smile shifted from interested to amused, though something like shyness still remained on her expression. “It’s good to pick your battles,” they agreed, one of their hands fidgeting with the pencil in their grasp.

#amy belle #rp blog #zuri #untoldremnants #the scholars

“Aww, thanks babe!” Amy grinned and nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich. She liked talking about her tattoos, they all meant something to her, however small. In fact, she was itching to get another one soon, she just wasn’t sure what. But she had plenty of space still on her back for a tattoo! It was just, she wouldn’t be able to see it there.

She took a peek at the book in Zuri’s hands. It wasn’t one she recognized, but she knew how nerds worked, there was an easy in here. “So what are you reading?” It was an easy, familiar question. Maybe Amy was just drawn towards a certain type of person but hey, she’d stop asking when it stopped working out for her.

Heels clicked as she walked down the museum halls. This internship was proving to be the strangest job Amy’d ever had.

The curator had left everyone written instructions that morning, having stated that he was far too busy to spend the morning with the students, and quickly Amy had realized a glaring contradiction. Were she to follow the instructions to the letter, the wing would become more disorganized than it had started. Now, she knew he had asked not to be disturbed, but she wasn’t going to risk her internship taking a guess at what he meant when he was literally a hallway away. Surely a twenty second conversation could solve all of this.

Maybe he just hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

About to knock on his office door, Amy stopped and turned behind herself at a soft crackling sound coming from the room across the hall. Was that smoke wafting under the door? She opened the door, about to rush in, when she froze, staring. This made no sense. Not Lathalia, as she had expected, but the bursar who had chosen her for the program in the first place. She stood over a metal box, flames licking up dangerously high as she tossed in a stack of papers, then reached down into an open filing cabinet.

“…uuuhm…” The noise escaped her without thought. If she weren’t so shocked she might have hid, or ran, or dove to stop the destruction. Instead she stared, blinking in the doorway. “I was looking for Lathalia…?” She held up her instructions half heartedly.

@murray-magnesium

#amy belle #rp blog #murray-magnesium #((hello! heres a girl for you!!

#((omg omg i love them so bad #the girls ever #the scholars #amy belle #rp blog

💛/ 💕(???) for a scholars table moodboard perchance??

for @amy-bellevierre too :)

thetachonisboy

The second time fourteen year old Occtis ever met Amy, she already had hot, angry tears streaming down her face. Her eyes caught his as she walked through the entrance to the music room and she glared as hard as she could, scrubbing her cheeks of tears. She stood strong, arms crossed at the door as it shut behind her, her escort leaving the two alone together.

“I’m never going to love you.” She declared bitterly, not even a tremor to her voice. “I’m *not* going to marry you. And if you ever try to kiss me, I’m going to kick you in the balls every single time I see you for the rest of your life.”

@amy-bellevierre (the roommates!!!)

Occtis tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps. He had his arms loosely wrapped around himself, and when he saw it was only the Bellevierre girl he had been arranged to marry sometime in the future, his posture relaxed slightly, only for it to grow stiff as he realized the state she was in.

“Uhm,” he responded intelligently, like a proper noble should. Occtis stared at her. He didn’t know how to respond. He barely knew how to handle an emotional teenager, let alone one angry at the situation they had both been forced into. “...I’m sorry.” Was that helpful? Occtis had no idea. He wanted to help, but he barely knew Amy, and it kind of seemed like she wanted nothing to do with him.

#amy belle #rp blog #thetachonisboy #((the roommates ever!!#im so excited to see them

Her face screwed up like she was bracing for more. When only silence passed between them, her shoulders loosened just a little. “Well…good!” Unprepared for the lack of resistance, Amy searched for something to latch onto, some hidden trap he might have for her later down the road. “And I’m not doing chores for you, either! And I won’t laugh at your jokes, and I definitely won’t have kids with you ever ever ever!” Stood firm at the door, forcing herself not to blink.

She watched for his reaction. If he was angry, if he thought he owned her, then she would have to show him she really could beat his ass if she had to. She was not going to live like her mom. She was gonna have an awesome, fun, and beautiful life that would have nothing to do with this boy.

Amy tapped her nails on the picnic table, eyes trained on a figure curled up with a book under a large, knotted tree in the courtyard. It was the fourth day in a row she had seen this person sat alone—Zuri, if she remembered right—and she’d started looking out for them around campus. Not once had she seen them talk to a single person. Not that it was that unusual, people often hurried from one class to the next, but there was something familiar about the way their shoulders hunched when they walked. A quickness to their movements, like they might be caught doing something terrible. Like, apparently, reading under a tree.

Her mind was set before she even noticed she’d stood, scooping up her sandwich and bottle of juice.

“Hey sweetiepie, do you mind if I sit with you in the shade?”

@amy-bellevierre

The Penteveral’s collection of books was, simply put, insane. There were hundreds of them, thousands even. Stories and tales from the past, fictional and otherwise. Zuri had never imagined there could possibly be a collection as large as the Penteveral’s, but apparently it wasn’t even the largest collection out there.

And, while inaccurate in reality, it felt as though the collection of books paled in comparison to the collection of students and staff that roamed the halls. The crowds felt overwhelming. Students laughed and talked with each other, always demonstrating the vast amount of connections they had already formed. Not a singular student looked out of place here. It only felt as though Zuri was the exception.

The sound of steps approaching them made the orc freeze. While her eyes still locked on the book, she remained focused on the periphery of her vision, waiting to see who was approaching her.

Zuri only allowed themself to look up when a voice spoke up, truly breaking the relative quiet of nature. They looked up at the figure above them, taking in their appearance briefly. Maybe a few times Zuri had seen her around the school grounds, but it had always been in passing or only for a few moments. And those moments had been spent just trying to maneuver through the halls and get to class on time or find a spot outside to breathe or let Freyr hop around for a while.

A small pause, hesitant, like Zuri was considering what the odds were for the request to be a genuine move and not something with an ulterior motive. After a second, Zuri inhaled and replied with a slow “sure..” as they gathered their stuff to make room for this new person looking for company under the single Dragon’s Claw Willow tree on campus.

“Cool, thanks!” Luckily she had worn a long, flowy skirt today. She knelt beside them in the soft grass, leaning against the surprisingly smooth bark of the tree while she set her things down beside herself. “I’m Amy.” She offered a hand to shake, an olive branch tattooed on that forearm. “I’ve been seeing you around but we don’t have any classes together. I’m studying music and conjuration.”

Zuri let the young woman– Amy, as she introduced herself– sit down beside her. They tried not to let their mind linger on how close in proximity she was. It was fine! Zuri could handle this. Just a short interaction with another student at school. She could do that! Probably. “I’m Zuri,” she responded back, taking just a moment to look down at Amy’s hand before shaking it, their eyes lingering on the tattoo. “That’s pretty. Olive, yes?”

“Oh, uh no, we don’t have any classes together. I’m.. more focused on druidic nature and creature conjuration, so I guess we may have some classes together in the future.”

#amy belle #rp blog #untoldremnants #((the heat seeking missile approaches zuri :)

The question made her smile, something like fondness behind her eyes. “Yeah! In some cultures an olive branch is seen as a peace offering, so I wanted it on my handshaking arm. I figure if I’m giving someone a handshake, it means I’m probably not declaring war.” She shrugged, taking a sip from the cup she had precariously balanced in the grass. “But I guess it’s possible.”

Being a druid explained the animal companion, could even explain a reclusive nature. But it didn’t explain why this person was so antsy at even her presence. Amy decided she was going to find out.

“I got it because as a teenager I was kind of a bitch—I still am, but I’m a little more choosy now. It’s a good reminder.” A wry smile crossed her face as she glanced to see if her joke landed right.

Amy tapped her nails on the picnic table, eyes trained on a figure curled up with a book under a large, knotted tree in the courtyard. It was the fourth day in a row she had seen this person sat alone—Zuri, if she remembered right—and she’d started looking out for them around campus. Not once had she seen them talk to a single person. Not that it was that unusual, people often hurried from one class to the next, but there was something familiar about the way their shoulders hunched when they walked. A quickness to their movements, like they might be caught doing something terrible. Like, apparently, reading under a tree.

Her mind was set before she even noticed she’d stood, scooping up her sandwich and bottle of juice.

“Hey sweetiepie, do you mind if I sit with you in the shade?”

@amy-bellevierre

The Penteveral’s collection of books was, simply put, insane. There were hundreds of them, thousands even. Stories and tales from the past, fictional and otherwise. Zuri had never imagined there could possibly be a collection as large as the Penteveral’s, but apparently it wasn’t even the largest collection out there.

And, while inaccurate in reality, it felt as though the collection of books paled in comparison to the collection of students and staff that roamed the halls. The crowds felt overwhelming. Students laughed and talked with each other, always demonstrating the vast amount of connections they had already formed. Not a singular student looked out of place here. It only felt as though Zuri was the exception.

The sound of steps approaching them made the orc freeze. While her eyes still locked on the book, she remained focused on the periphery of her vision, waiting to see who was approaching her.

Zuri only allowed themself to look up when a voice spoke up, truly breaking the relative quiet of nature. They looked up at the figure above them, taking in their appearance briefly. Maybe a few times Zuri had seen her around the school grounds, but it had always been in passing or only for a few moments. And those moments had been spent just trying to maneuver through the halls and get to class on time or find a spot outside to breathe or let Freyr hop around for a while.

A small pause, hesitant, like Zuri was considering what the odds were for the request to be a genuine move and not something with an ulterior motive. After a second, Zuri inhaled and replied with a slow “sure..” as they gathered their stuff to make room for this new person looking for company under the single Dragon’s Claw Willow tree on campus.

#amy belle #rp blog #untoldremnants

“Cool, thanks!” Luckily she had worn a long, flowy skirt today. She knelt beside them in the soft grass, leaning against the surprisingly smooth bark of the tree while she set her things down beside herself. “I’m Amy.” She offered a hand to shake, an olive branch tattooed on that forearm. “I’ve been seeing you around but we don’t have any classes together. I’m studying music and conjuration.”

“Hey gorgeous!” A lady in the sparkliest knee length skirt and a worryingly low cut blouse caught Chiara in the hall. She handed over a flyer with a dazzling smile. “If you have time, I would love to see you at one of my shows! Free admission, food is half price until the show ends! Just show them this flyer, mkay cutiepie?”

The flyer seemed hand made, with little pink heart stamps lining the edges. It detailed a bard’s performance at a venue on campus—the name Amy Belle in glittery pink cursive across the top.

@amy-bellevierre

Chiara found herself caught off guard as a pet name was called out to her, and suddenly a girl skipped into view. Her aesthetic, bedecked in pink and shine, seemed in a direct contrast to the muted greens of Chiara’s own tunic, which seemed like perhaps a shirt for a much taller and broader individual belted at her waist, and the cool, purplish grey of her leggings. Practicality versus extravagance. The young Davinos wondered what about herself caught this stranger’s eye as a paper was thrust into her hand.

“I don’t believe I have anything on my docket tonight,” she replied, still somewhat on the back foot. She has a loose plan to do her homework this afternoon and find someone to spar with this evening… but she supposed it’d be possible to spar another night. Her face heated; it felt nigh impossible to say no to the bard. While not as amorous as her brothers were known to be, she had to admit to being easily persuaded by confident, pretty women. “I’ll see what I can to.”

#amy belle #rp blog #allexandrianrejects #((it’s girl hour!!

“Awesome! I’ll look out for you in the crowd tonight!” She blew the stranger a kiss, a pink illusory heart bouncing in the air towards her before turning into a tiny explosion of soundless sparkles and fizzling into nothing. Amy was already on her way, curls bouncing as she power walked down the hall. She had so many flyers to hand out and so much prep to do for tonight, she had to hit and run as many people as she could.

Hours later, Amy took a deep breath in the darkness backstage. She stretched out her wrists, watching the light flicker underneath the heavy curtains separating her from the stage. There was a fairly good turnout for the crowd, which was partially due to her work today and partially due to the agreement between the school and the venue. Students love half priced food.

Her clothes were a bit more formal than she preferred, but this was for a grade, her teacher would be in the crowd. The theme for the assignment had been elegance, and it was left so open ended that she’d had several late night panic attacks composing for it. In the end, she had a set list she was mmmostly proud of.

“Amaryllis,” a woman whispered, motioning her forward. “You’re up.”

“Amy.” The correction was instinctual at this point, a smile and slight nod to confirm, breezing past it. “Thank you hun.”

She closed her eyes and took one last centering breath, then pushed out past the curtains before she could change her mind. She wanted this. She loved this. It was just a little new and terrifying having someone judge her work so academically.

In the instant she was visible to the crowd Amy stood tall, enjoying the feeling of her hair brushing up against her exposed shoulders as she walked up to center stage. She drew her focus to the expectant hum in the air, potential. It made her grin like it always did, familiarity smoothing out the discomfort of the situation (and her skirt—truly, she should have chosen something that let her move better).

“Hi everyone! I’m Amy Belle, thank you all for coming out tonight! I have just one rule for my shows, and it’s that you have to think I’m the prettiest girl in the world while I’m onstage. Deal?”

Amaryllis Bellevierre

Human Bard—College of Creation

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 21

Backstory blurb: Forced into an arranged political marriage with Occtis Tachonis at a young age, this lesbian is studying at the Penteveral to become a bard despite her family’s wishes. Her betrothed roommate hasn’t come home in a while, but she doesn’t have time to wonder about her bestie because she has class in the morning!

Picrew link! 🔗 https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2795963

#amy belle #rp blog #snail thoughts #refs

A letter is returned on the way back from the Penteveral. It’s sealed with a heart shape stamped into the wax, smelling faintly of perfume. The outside reads “Tempris” in swirling cursive, but the rest of the letter is in fairly informal handwriting, with hearts dotting the i’s and exclamation points.

It reads:

Hello!

My name is Amy. I hope you don’t mind me sending you a little letter, I just really wanted to get to meet you! I think your rats are super cute.

You’re Occtis’ sister, right? I’m his fiancée, we’re roommates at the Penteveral so I see you sending him letters all the time. I heard you live in a tower? What’s that like? Also how many rats do you have? I know this one is Amadeus, do they all have names? Do you name them, or do their parents? (Or do they pick for themselves??)

Anyways, it’s nice to meet you!

🩷, Amy

@allexandrianrejects

The letter is a surprise, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Amadeus seems pleased with himself the bring it back to his mistress.

A different rat sends back a letter, penned in red ink with the slightest silver shift, labelled simply "Amy" in a sharp elegant cursive. The rest of the letter is written in the same hand.

Miss Amy,

Thank you for your missive. If I may be honest, I am eager for the correspondence. You are right; I am Tempris Tachonis, Occtis' sister— my twin brother Templar and I are his immediate elder siblings, I the sixth and Templar the seventh. I'm happy to meet my brother's betrothed, though I am a touch bewildered, as I was under the impression Occtis was to wed a young man of the Davinos line.

No matter. I understand why my young brother may not communicate such things, and I know our father holds little regard for what I know.

Yes, I do live in an arcane tower. I believe it once was owned by some sorcerer-priest of our family, but it has been uninhabited since the Shaper's War at least. It works for my purposes, but I cannot say it's what one would call cozy. Stately, perhaps, and a little wild from its time left to sit. The rats act as my couriers, constant company, and household help. It is amazing what a pack of them can do together. There are twelve in total, with the one who brought you this letter being Huxley. I apologize if he is misbehaving; he's an excitable one. I've named each of them myself, but as I can communicate with them as my familiars, I have assurance that they like their names. With my next missive I will send a complete list of their names and defining features, if you would like.

Warm Regards,

Tempris

Another letter arrives, this one with a slight bulge at the top. A plain baby green ribbon falls out, frayed and torn at the ends, though it looks fairly new otherwise.

Tempris,

Wow, they really keep you out of the loop. That marriage fell through years ago, though it’s not really my place to talk about it. Personal stuff, not my business. Safe to say, my dad swooped in and put me up on offer like right away. We’re making the best of the situation.

I’m so excited to hear that your rats like their names! And yes, I would love to get to know them! I fed Huxley a little cheese because Occtis said it was okay, he seemed to really like it. He’s so playful, I’ve been letting him chase a ribbon of mine while I write this. I’m going to let you keep it for him since he likes it so much. (Also he chewed it a little so I can’t wear it anymore.)

Well wish me luck, I’m about to stay up half the night doing coursework again. Luckily we usually get busy at around the same time, so your brother and I aren’t keeping each other up. He went to go get us snacks! :)

Have a snack in our honor!

🩷, Amy

Amy,

Most of the family does not contact me unless it's of an urgent matter, save Occtis and my twin. I suppose they find no use in keeping me up to date on political matters. Still, I do apologize if my ignorance offends; I mean no slight on your good name. I wish you and my brother happiness as your lives intertwine.

You should be pleased to know that Huxley became very excited upon seeing your gift. I believe he shall find great entertainment in the ribbon, though I know his siblings will get jealous. I'll have to invest some of my allotted funds in ribbon for them to play with. Huxley and Adora are, at the moment, rather entranced by my mage hand dangling the ribbon above their heads. A little cheese is alright for a treat; they also greatly enjoy fruit, especially berries, but I no means expect you to get any on their account. Even those from noble houses, I know the budget of a university student is limited.

May I ask what you are studying at the Penteveral? Are you also interested in wizardry? I find it all rather fascinating, but I know Occtis is somewhat shy about his studies, due to our father's prejudice against arcanists. I'm in the midst of some research myself, so I'll be thinking of the two of you while I likely am also up in the wee hours of the morning.

My Best,

Tempris

A second note is included in the envelope, a list of names (Adora, Huxley, Amadeus, Mignon, Sonny, Alfalfa, Wylie, Marvin, Nova, Reginald, Indigo, and Bean) and facts written on it. Each rat is described with its fur color, distinguishing features, temperament, and favorite treats. A few scattered paw prints decorate the edge of the page, as if one of the mentioned rats has gotten into the ink and scampered across the page— matching the red ink on Huxley's paws when he returns with the letter.

#amy belle #rp blog #allexandrianrejects

Tempris,

Don’t worry about it, sunshine! No offense taken at all. I’m sorry you don’t get updates like you should, but it kinda makes sense no one mentioned me, I don’t think I’ve ever been popular with your family (except Occtis, who is a sweetie and also legally bound to me so, there is that).

I did notice Huxley likes the ribbon, he kinda stole some more while I wasn’t looking and chewed them up. :( I think I’ll keep them here for him, but do you think you could tell him that my things are not toys unless I give them to him to play? I don’t want to tell him off but, I also like those ribbons.

But on another note, my studies! I’m not really interested in classical wizardry, though it does help in my study of bardic magic. What are you studying? We should tell each other little fun facts! My fun fact today is that all magic hums at a frequency, usually outside of mortal perception. But someone skilled enough can match that frequency and cancel out a spell entirely! (I can’t, I’m just a beginner but still!! So cool!!)

Thank you for the guide! I’m keeping it on my desk as part of my studies :)

🩷, Amy

A letter is returned on the way back from the Penteveral. It’s sealed with a heart shape stamped into the wax, smelling faintly of perfume. The outside reads “Tempris” in swirling cursive, but the rest of the letter is in fairly informal handwriting, with hearts dotting the i’s and exclamation points.

It reads:

Hello!

My name is Amy. I hope you don’t mind me sending you a little letter, I just really wanted to get to meet you! I think your rats are super cute.

You’re Occtis’ sister, right? I’m his fiancée, we’re roommates at the Penteveral so I see you sending him letters all the time. I heard you live in a tower? What’s that like? Also how many rats do you have? I know this one is Amadeus, do they all have names? Do you name them, or do their parents? (Or do they pick for themselves??)

Anyways, it’s nice to meet you!

🩷, Amy

@allexandrianrejects

The letter is a surprise, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Amadeus seems pleased with himself the bring it back to his mistress.

A different rat sends back a letter, penned in red ink with the slightest silver shift, labelled simply "Amy" in a sharp elegant cursive. The rest of the letter is written in the same hand.

Miss Amy,

Thank you for your missive. If I may be honest, I am eager for the correspondence. You are right; I am Tempris Tachonis, Occtis' sister— my twin brother Templar and I are his immediate elder siblings, I the sixth and Templar the seventh. I'm happy to meet my brother's betrothed, though I am a touch bewildered, as I was under the impression Occtis was to wed a young man of the Davinos line.

No matter. I understand why my young brother may not communicate such things, and I know our father holds little regard for what I know.

Yes, I do live in an arcane tower. I believe it once was owned by some sorcerer-priest of our family, but it has been uninhabited since the Shaper's War at least. It works for my purposes, but I cannot say it's what one would call cozy. Stately, perhaps, and a little wild from its time left to sit. The rats act as my couriers, constant company, and household help. It is amazing what a pack of them can do together. There are twelve in total, with the one who brought you this letter being Huxley. I apologize if he is misbehaving; he's an excitable one. I've named each of them myself, but as I can communicate with them as my familiars, I have assurance that they like their names. With my next missive I will send a complete list of their names and defining features, if you would like.

Warm Regards,

Tempris