Valen waved his hand, commanding the various magical stones lighting the room with a fleeting glow to brighten; yet it was still insufficient to light the various dark nooks of the room. The three individuals remained silent. Filling would-be silence was Valen's movements. With the shift of his foot, a desk with stacks of books on top scratched against the stone ground as it moved. Every step he took was a loud crack against the ground. Farra watched in awe, taking note of how heavy each of Valen's movements were. Whereas Erres and Verrika effused confidence and sailed in the wind, whereas Gare had precise and calculated movements, Valen felt overpowering.

"Is he upset?" Farra whispered to a Teilve standing by her bedside.

"I don't think so, I'm not quite sure what the lord is doing."

After finishing shifting the heavy desks and chairs around, Valen took a jar in his gauntlet, clenching his hand into a fist and crushing it. The shards of the jar fell to the ground, mixing with the white dust the jar once held. Using a single large finger, he shifted the crushed pieces around, forming a rune from their pieces. With a wave of his hand, a blazing flame emerged, illuminating what the magic stones could not. Farra wiggled where she sat, feeling the heat from the flame flow to her, a feeling she could scarce remember.

"It would be a slight amount problematic if any pupils belongings caught aflame. And a waste." Valen turned, towering over the both of them. The longer Farra was in his presence, the more she understood just how this was in fact, Valen's tower. From the heavy stone gate, accommodating his towering frame, to the stone stairwell winding up the tower which proved a modest size for each of the lord’s titanic steps. He looked down to Farra. Behind the tall black helmet shaped into a diamond, Farra could feel no gaze, only a presence directing attention toward her. Valen's head turned, and with a slight crouch, a long arm reached down not too far before its palm touched the ground. When he retracted his hand back, a crude stone chair of a size befitting the lord erected from the ground.

"I think this to be a better position to speak cordially." He sat, both gauntlets folding over his lap.

Farra sat and looked on without a word, glancing to Teilve whom she had assumed would speak, only to find Valen's attention and words directed at her. Her lips parted, but the feirin found herself at a loss of words. Pale fingers grasped at the bed sheets as Farra's eyes shook, in her mind she knew this to be one of Erres most stalwart allies and perhaps friend from what she had come to understand. But still, she had not spoke with Erres himself since arriving here. Perhaps after what transpired, his opinion of her changed. Perhaps this overpowering behemoth in front of her already was privy to any negative opinion Erres might have of her.

“I'm sorry.” She murmured, her voice choking, “I can't find words right now.” Valen kept still, fixated on her like a giant curiously examining a smaller creature.

“Are you nervous?” The voice, echoed from underneath the armor in the same manner as before. It demanded to be heard, even when speaking in a hushed tone. Farra nodded her head, feeling her face fluster at her obvious intimidation.

“Take time to find your voice. Many find me a monster, but you are in Erres’ closest court, and therefore you are in mine.” Her head raised, searching for a way to respond. She glanced from side to side of Valen’s helmet. Her thoughts failing her, but coming to find one concern at the forefront of her mind.

“I have not spoken with Lord Erres since arriving here. Is he not upset with me?” She blinked into the abyssal helmet in front of her.

“It is understandable, you having such concerns and doubts. Rest assured, while the Lord is still mourning the passing of one of his dearest retainers, it will not cloud his judgment or give rise to any unnecessary hatreds regarding you. Rather, in the end his anger will be directed at these lands, the very place which has thrust us all into hardship, and the dark goddess who oversees this world from the shadows. The young feirin girl who he chose to associate with for belief in her gift, she is not the object of any of his ire.” He paused, grasping at the edge of his seat, crumbling the stone to a coarse dust. “I have existed long enough to know my words will not assuage all your feelings. Only your own reflections upon what you've experienced, coupled with time spent with the young Lord himself will do such a thing. But at least know that I hold no reservations toward you. Rather I am very curious to understand and learn more, not just of your peculiar ability, but your own circumstance.”

With every word Valen’s voice became less intimidating to Farra. The calm and understanding behind it could be felt, a desire to know was present, akin to the first time Erres met with her. Yet in that inquisitiveness was a discrepancy, Valen's felt as if it stemmed out of a want for simply knowing more, understanding more. It occurred to Farra, that perhaps this was a contrast between the two Lords who considered one another close allies. One was an inspiring warrior through and through, the other a scholar and practitioner of magics. Valen still possessed a profound charisma through his very aura, but he also brought an enigmatic feeling of knowledge around him.

Farra bit her lip, looking about for a moment, pondering over how to answer his inquiries.

“I don't know where to begin.”

“We are not too pressed for time, I believe this to be something of greater import. Any would be guests and pupils have been informed the tower's access will be closed for the time being. So please, start from the beginning Farra.”

“The beginning?”

“I wish to understand more about your tribe and species, and your arriving at the quarry in hopes it enlightens me as to your position. Speak as you please.”

Farra held her breath for a moment. Valen sat still, unmoving like a statue, lacking any breath or other sign of life.

“I’m a disappointment. But my mom and dad still loved me...in my tribe, magic and using it was probably the most important thing. Feirins are suppose to be a long-lived beast who are exceptional with magic, but I was called deficient when I couldn't create fire.”

“Fire, why that element in particular?”

“It is the one all feirins can do. When I couldn't, my parents and the tribe's elders tried to teach me to use other elements. I couldn’t though. Our elders distanced themselves from me and my parents. From that point on they had to work harder and separate from the tribe. They would go out and hunt more often for food to feed us when others wouldn’t hunt with them. I think other families started to distance themselves from my mom and dad because of me.”

“I find it curious, when was your ability for foresight discovered? Was it not of any significance to the tribe?”

She shook her head.

“The elders called it an aberration. My parents just said it meant I was bit different, but from the point on I heard that word, I didn't feel the tribe's adults thought of me the same way. I was probably too different to deal with, they were use to magic and not something like what I had.” She paused, finding herself trailing with her words and beginning to stammer. “Ah, I think I first realized what I was doing when I could first remember anything. My dad said even when I was young, I would sometimes avoid and try to wiggle from their attempts to pick me up, before they even touched me. And then I would start to cry if they were going to pick me up anyways. My mom thought what I could do was special, and my dad believed it too. Even when they learned I couldn't use magic, they started to look and care after me even more.”

Her head sunk, tears forming in her eyes and beginning to quietly flow. Teilve who had sat in silence put a hand on Farra's head, ruffling her hair furiously. The force distracted her, looking up with bangs hanging in front of her wetting eyes. “I'm sorry, I just had never thought about my mom and dad all too much until now. Every day after they were gone, I was worried about if the darkness would eat me away, if I would starve each day, and if the others might accept me.”

Valen broke into movement for the first time upon seeing the feirin's face streaking with tears, sitting back against his chair in silent contemplation, listening to Farra’s sobs before speaking.

“You mentioned that feirins live for quite some time. Certainly you would be a mouth to feed for some time, and in their eyes, unable to carry on the traditions of what their tribe or a typical feirin represents. But I sympathize with your position. I take no pleasure in seeing a broken child, one without sense of belonging or love, Such actions are oft the beginning of tragedies. Tell me, were your parents magically inept in any regard?”

Farra shook her head, attempting to stymie her tears.

“A curious thing then. But not one I would condemn a child for. But perhaps your tribe’s understanding or perception of magic is narrow. Your body may be magically deficient, but you have used magic.” Valen cracked another edge of his seat with his gauntlet, holding the crumbling stone in his hand, squeezing it into dust and sprinkling it to the floor before Farra.

“Whether you choose to see it as such is your decision.” Valen etched runes into the grounded dust on the ground. “It is not the perfect conductor, but behold.” He held a remaining clump of the dust in his open palm. From the heavy black gauntlet a soft and transient white light came. The once crumbled chunks of stone shimmered with a brilliance beyond that of the dust Farra previously saw in the desert.

“Open your hands, and pour this upon the rune etched below.”

Farra held her hands out together, feeling the dust ground from stone falling against her skin, shining in the dark room.

“Do not be deceived, it is the dust’s brilliance in fact, that betrays the inefficiency. For the magical energies are improperly stored, pouring out into the surroundings.”

She nodded, feeling the coarse stone bits roll over her palms. She parted her hands, turning and letting the dust fall against the rune, watching the rune glow with an earthen brown light. From the etched marking erupted a stone spire the height of Farra.

“An impromptu weapon.” Valen reached at the base of the spire, his hand crushing it into a handle, shaking it away from Teilve and Farra to fashion it into a crude stone lance. “What you just did would be something most consider beyond a novice level of earth-aspected magic. But because of the knowledge and material from which our runes can be created, you simply only need a magical catalyst to procure the effect.”

Valen heaved the spear, tossing it toward the tower's entrance with a loud crash, failing to crack any bit of the conjured weapon. “Do not think less of the process, it is through our knowledge we perform magic. It is as a unit, an army, that we enhance one another's strengths and alleviate our weaknesses. You are incapable of drawing magic from your own body, but you are not at all incapable of using it in a readied form Farra. As for your strength-” Valen sat back into his seat with another crack. “It too can be accounted for. But before I fill your head such thoughts, I wish to make certain of both your devotion and attributes.”

The tearful Farra nodded, swallowing the rest of her sorrows, managing to speak despite a choked throat. “I am weak. Beasts I think are usually strong, but feirins are weak, and I am even weaker.”

“Raw strength, power, is both its own blessing and curse. One who never knows weakness will never know when it is time to withdraw. The individual will never be able to overcome the feeling of adversity, to stare into imminent defeat and still emerge victorious. One who is weak but becomes strong understands the value of strength, understands the feeling an enemy has when cornered, for they themselves were once cornered. Matters of the mind aside, your physical frailty is exaggerated in these lands, as it is for all living things. Whether it is the miasma itself, a lack of nourishment, or constant exhaustion, victory often will not come to those who are the most powerful, but prepared. A foundation of strength is important, but the accompanying preparation is even more critical.”

“But that foundation of strength--how long will it take for me to become strong?”

“Far too long, as is the case for most things we desire. To rush matters is often a grave mistake. I have not finished hearing of your journey in surviving up until this point. But I have felt your desire to be apparent enough, I have heard of your exploits even when facing dire straits, and I already bore witness to your loyalty and care outside this very tower. You are young and full of not just the opportunity for growth, but to be forged as an ideal soldier and student. Though there are countless individuals who come to study rune magic, they do so in limited or too specific scope. While our most open-minded lords and officers are amicable to ideas, they scarce have the time to indulge in an enigmatic, yet sensible field. Instead they choose to bicker over whose might surmounts whose. Bicker over vain honor and glory while they clutch to their control over forsaken lands. We are of the war faction. To wage war is to conquer, defend, and crush, whether it be by means of blade or spell. We are allies against those who would oppose us. Those, such as those ones following Lord Raom, fail to comprehend such a notion.”

A quiet roar in the form of Valen's voice could be heard, his distaste for other elements of the war faction becoming obvious as the air carrying his disfavor drifted like a fierce gust.

“Farra, you will have much work to do, but I wish to come and see you as a proper apprentice.”

The feirin's ears shivered and bristled, Valen's words resounding in her twitching ears.

“But...Lord Erres would surely want me as a soldier would he not? For all he has suffered?”

“Undoubtedly so, but you mistake being my apprentice and his retainer as discordant. You will make all the better a loyal and trusted soldier for him, should you be properly trained beyond what any other warrior is.” Valen turned to the mage who sat quiet the entire session. “Give word to Erres that I will be tutoring Farra for the remainder of this moon. I expect him to come and personally find her a suitable means of combat now that he has returned to the temple. Given what has happened, we may well have an idea already.”

Teilve stood with a suave bow, no less unabashed in Valen's presence than any other. “Now that I have the chance, may I ask how the first council went before I depart?” He made a slow strut back, cloak in hand.

“As you could expect, some other parties took it as an opportunity to belittle Erres' call for unity. The notion of failure is unacceptable until it is one's own. They fear to capitulate any shred of loyalty, for fear it lessens their power, ignorant of what an ally is.”

“And ignorant of forfeiting their clout by not accepting Erres' offer.” Teilve chuckled, turning with a stride over the stone weapon, touching his ring to the gate.

“Teilve, be wary of unruly soldiers, needless confrontation does little for our cause, even with the support of the Warlords.”

With the gate parting, the open night and temple lying before Teilve, he waved a hand, stepping around the door’s edge and out of sight into the darkness. Farra turned back to Valen, only for Teilve to poke his head back for a moment. “Don't worry, it'll be far easier without that fearsome feirin around making everyone jealous of her talent.” The gate clasped shut when he again stepped out of sight.

Valen rose from his crumbling stone chair.

“Do you feel uneasy with Teilve's absence?” He did not wait for an answer, instead moving toward a makeshift bookcase that stood fastened to the spiraling stairs. As large and cumbersome as his figure might be, Valen was meticulous and deft. Farra blinked, watching him maneuver around the various desks and would-be entrapments scattered around the room with ease. Despite a comparatively large gauntlet, she realized that on the index finger of his gauntlet was a fine point, allowing him to shuffle through and search the bookcase, occasionally taking a book and flipping through its contents with relative ease.

“I do, but I think time will change that. We have been in the same company for most my time since meeting Lord Erres. Though it was only so long, the time feels very meaningful.”

“Meaningful. A curious way to describe it, though I suppose you mean to suggest that the little time you have had together with those in Erres court has been a significant part of your life.”

“I think so.” Farra pressed her palms to the bed, lifting herself up and off, feet touching the stone ground, pulling back for a split second, feeling the discomfort of uneven broken stone beneath her soles. Valen continued to flip through tome after tome. At times he would stop on a particular page as if musing over the contents, sometimes clasping it shut and returning it to its place, other times tossing it onto a desk below him. After a short period of meandering over, the feirin spoke again.

“Forgive me if it's not my place to ask, but you do not use Lord when you speak of Lord Erres, whereas you did for Lord Raom, why is that?” Valen turned, glancing at her for a moment before returning to perusing the book he held open in his hand. He flipped the page before shutting the book and setting it onto the growing stack of books.

“A peculiar detail to inquire about, though considering your age not a question that should come as unexpected. Familiarity is your answer. After long enough time, you find repeated use of titles to be tiresome and a waste of words. Lest we are trying to keep appearances, Erres and I both share a mutual respect and standing to where there is no need to refer to one another as Lords among our loyal court.”

“I do not quite understand what you mean Lord Valen.”With careful steps, Farra came closer to the desk holding a growing mound of books, looking over the exterior spines. Her voice hushed when she spoke, “I do not think I can read either.”

“Has it occurred to you yet Farra, that though you've encountered a variety of races by now, you have little issue in understanding or communicating ideas with one another?” She nodded her head, Valen taking note of her affirmation when he reached to an adjacent bookcase, pulling a book possessing more girth, setting it in front of Farra.

“A curious design isn't it? One that I lack an explanation for. One would certainly think such a variety of beings would have different manners of communication, as they certainly do traditions. Doubtless some mage would come in and bridge the language barrier before long with some manner of spell, but that it is not an issue to begin with should not be forgotten.”

Valen flipped the cover of the book, various symbols lying on the next page. “The same however does not apply to reading. Fortunately you can envision runes as a language to be learned. So long as we can communicate the idea behind each rune, then you will come to understand the language without written guidance. Many of these books for this reason, would be nigh impossible to understand without proper instruction, resulting in a need for excessive experimentation.”

Farra's mind held doubts, glossing over the first page composed of numerous runes of varying structure and shape. “Lord Valen, if you were to unleash magical energies upon these pages, what would happen?” Valen halted, turning to her. “Many pupils would be fearful of asking such a question that seems to question my work. However, I cannot look upon you with any feeling other than an innate desire to know and understand the very workings of my magics. The answer here is simple.” He reached for another book, this time on the opposite shelf. “Critical to rune magic is not only the runes themselves, but also the various catalysts and conditions, extending as far as to the aspect of magic with which they may be activated. These pages most simply put, are not composed of a catalyst that would cause a reaction.”

“Then the stone rune that was just on the ground you had me use was...?” Her ears perked.

“Inscribed upon my armor are various runes. And from its metal the properties necessary to create runes can be exuded. Within my being is magical energy, and though my interests lie within rune magic for various reasons, I am a mage proper. I possess the means to construct most runes of my choosing, within my knowledge, on a whim. Has your soreness subsided?”

As she heard the words, a pain Farra had become overly familiar with gnawed at her body. “I had nearly forgotten it.”

“My apologies then. It is curious what one's focus and interest can do to help them forget their woes. Keep to the bed when you study for the time being, the chairs and desks here will do no proper good for your recovery. Begin with this book, its contents are depicted in such a manner as to allow one to be self-taught.”

Farra raised her head for a moment, but Valen continued to speak, already anticipating her next question. “I will remain here contemplating over something that has piqued my interest as of recent. Feel free to ask me questions as you feel necessary, but I also wish to see how your interest does when allowed to wander for itself.”

“Lord Valen, did you not want to know of my arriving at the quarry?”

He shifted, taking long steps toward the stairs. “It will wait. Erres has already debriefed me on what he came to know around the time of meeting you and onward. Recovery will do us better for the future rather than dwelling on your previous strength. Your penchant for seeing into the future raises a slew of questions that we scarce have answers to, but Erres will take the time to train you and pin down details of your capabilities.” The voice faded as it proceeded up the staircase. Farra remained left with a stack of books which she would have to climb onto the table to pull from, and the single tome, thinner than the rest Valen directed her to read. She took it in her hand, finding it relatively light, albeit heavier than the armaments she felt comfortable with. Its binding was beige and completely blank. “Lord Valen probably knows whats in every single one of these books without looking.” Farra murmured to herself, holding the book with both hands, carrying it back over to her bed and taking care to not wander too close to gently burning fire that illuminated the tower floor.

Everything Farra glanced at relating to the runes raised questions, questions she hoped to find answers for. When Valen explained things, everything made sense, so surely there must be some answer as to why this flame remained burning as long as it did, something that was not unlike her tribe's magic. She flipped the cover open, finding that it was as the lord said. In the book was a lack of words, but instead crudely drawn pictures suggesting what a rune might mean. The first page was simple, four runes of different and simple design, next to a corresponding picture that was without a doubt an element. One next to fire, another next to water, another next to wind, and a last next to stone. Just as she had come to understand mages to use magic often corresponding with these four elements, for each element there was a corresponding rune of representation.

She looked over the design of each rune, having clearly remembered the runes for both fire and water in other contexts. She flipped the page, rustling into the bed where upon numerous other runes, some of which she had seen but taken little notice of, were inscribed all over the page. The temptation to ask Valen for the meaning of each floated in her mind, but she dismissed the thought, heeding his words and desire to see what she could figure for herself. She had come to feel Valen was one with wisdom, and would not have thrust such an open-ended task upon her unless he felt she could benefit from it.

Beside each of the new runes on this page were ones she knew represent the elements now with tiny alterations to their design. However the origin of each was clear, and if overlaid with the runes on the previous page would fit almost like a puzzle if scaled correctly with markings then appended on. Beside these were pictures of a similar shape with small accents and pigmented to suggest it took on a different element in each case. Farra glanced back to the runes, realizing that the bit appended onto each elemental rune was in most regards the same. She flipped the page, desiring to compare it to the previous page, shuffling around the bed and losing her other thoughts in the aspiration to know more of rune magic.