Sense of Self

Handeroth Academy

The silhouette of the island was much different than the pictures from the pamphlets she had found. Without the two-dimensional flattening, the castle seemed almost more... intimidating. Even from the safety of the boat, nestled between the bags that would give her comfort for the rest of her time here, she felt almost what came off as a presence from the stone structure. It had this almost... silent message, which made her muscles tense.

She shifts in her seat. She shouldn't have been surprised. This was a magus institution, after all. Handeroth Academy had produced some of the most powerful and renowned mages across the centuries. Merlin, Jesus, The Crimson King. They all started here. Some becoming near gods among men, others witch hunters in their own right...

The raven haired woman swallows roughly. Her kind had always been hunted down by humans and mages alike. Were the reasons justifiable? She still didn't know the answer... Witches were known to have a talent for chaos and little restraint to contain it. In fact, that's why she had come here. The learning opportunity was invaluable, albeit extremely risky. Did that change the small bubble of anxiety that the mere view of the place gave her? Of course not... she was anything but stupid. Did her parents, as crazed as they were with their own twisted power, not try to stop her, by force even, from walking into this last ditch effort that doubled as a death wish? She had to fight them off of her quite seriously... Though they had wandered into the unknown when she was a child, at the age of 18, she began to see them in passing at times. Roaming the forests where her aunt had cared for her all these years. And as soon as she tried to leave the property, excess magic pouring from her body, they descended upon her to corner her back in. As ferocious of creatures as they were, there was still a small shred of them that registered a breath of love for their only child...

"Nervous?" the kind man rowing across from her asks. He had been eyeing her curiously ever since he had picked her up from the mainland, as most had. Growing up deep in the mountains away from any and all socialization had distanced her from what was normal and customary for the majority of the world she was so unfamiliar with. She had been to one of the mountain villages at the base of the formation a few times, but otherwise had stayed secluded with her aunt. Who was she to know that clothing was much more modern than she was used to? That people didn't just wear cuffed bracelets, circlets, and refined necklaces of pure silver and turquoise to cleanse their spirits and focus magic to the points of expelling throughout the body? That frilly and puffy sleeved white blouses were a century behind in fashion and that in wearing it and exposing the shoulders and stomach for freedom of movement, she was odd? That people didn't use hides they tanned themselves to craft slit hemmed skirts for the same purpose as a means of stocking their entire wardrobe? She actually had to purchase simple sandals with what little coin her aunt had procured for her selling their crops and game before boarding the boat, not realizing prior that going barefoot was also apparently taboo. Her ferry guide had been graciously kind, however, despite her being such an oddity. In fact, she wondered why he had been so accepting of her strange appearance.

She forces her hands to relax around her bag in her lap, riddled with stitches and patches. "Just a bit," she admits with an anxious laugh, looking down at her black nails with dried chamomile petals suspended in the paint. She had painted them as such in hopes of carrying calm energy with her, but still, her worry was apparent to the older man.

He nods in surprising understanding. "Scholarship?" She returns the gesture, her head bobbing slightly. "Sorry," he apologizes, shifting in his seat to correct them from curving their course from the breeze that was assisting them across the inlet. "It just seemed so obvious compared to the apprentices that come here from the paid tuition alone. They're more prepared for the experience, you know?"

She grins softly in understanding. "Yeah. Is it that obvious I'm a novice?"

He chuckles in response. "Well, if you're in on a scholarship, you're obviously not a novice with magic Sweetie," he reassures. "Novice maybe on the high society lifestyle."