Prologue - New Year's Festival

Art observes the conversations of others with interest for a time, waiting for an opening to answer Celune's question without talking over another. In a way, there is an advantage to engaging in a crowd that he hadn't considered. There is simply less need of him to speak when others are there to fill the silence that they dislike. Meanwhile, he gets to take the time to consider what he might say.
Ngofu's smile seems to be the brief moment of silence that is timely for him to respond. After making a mental note about this strange tension and talk of methods of address between Ngofu and Shadow, he speaks. "I am here by circumstance. Ambition was foreign to me for most of my life." After a brief pause, he continues. "Perhaps like Danikle, I am the butt of a joke. I grew up feral for approximately a decade after being born. This fact has been an obstacle for me in many ways." Another pause accompanied by subtle stare. "Lineage is the reason I am here. Unavoidable facts that I won't waste time hiding. I am debatably Laureate of Crownforger. They are nobles of the Chorizemic Empire."
Art swallows, watching the others and waiting to see their response. His rationale revealing his identity early was sound, but it didn't stop his guard heightening reflexively.

Celune subtly raises an eyebrow at the conversation between Shadow and Ngofu before smiling to herself. But seeing the dismay smiles from Shadow, she drops this topic and continues another.

As a response from Ngofu's comment on her ambition, she nods.

"I am also looking to be Concordat Investigator like yourself. And with the same motive as Nightgleam's said, I am too quite interested in the wonder of higher and noble powers of our world.".

Having been briefly lost pulling out his sketchbook to show off the garden he had spent the last few days planning it is with some startlement that Danikle returns to the rather heavy introduction of Art's background.
He pauses a moment before settling on an appropriate response, his face taking on a warm smile.
"What an interesting twist of fate, a most uncommon background. Perhaps we will soon also get to laugh at the apparent humour of our situations!"
He then turns and passes his notebook to Ngofu.
"No garden bed yet but this is what I have planned for when the ground thaws suitably well for digging. Just a few errant pots on my windowsil at the moment."

Ngofu nods to Celune to make it clear she's not ignoring her, even though she doesn't seem to have anything specific to say in response. And when she actually spoke, it was about things Danikle and Art have said:

"The facts by themselves seem not all that rare: there are many ferals on various islands, and there are many aristocrats from grave-gardens, and even nobles adopting someone who had not grown up in their dynasty are reasonably common," she glances in the direction of Nightgleam and Sahrethe, perhaps implying a similar future. "But it is the overlap of these three things is remarkable, or at least the first two; I can see how the third might be a more likely outcome if the first two are already true."

Sahrethe, meanwhile, was whispering something quietly to Nightgleam, who presented his ear to her and nodded along.

Celune also taking a look at the sketch of Danikle's garden while hearing them talks about plants. She has never explores this particular topic before since she has so many things to research for but it seems that this topic is not as secondary as it seems.

But her attention is pulled back by Ngofu's commentary about the variety of their background. Her eyes unconsciously glancing at Shadow since he's the only one here knows about her past but she focuses her eyes again towards Ngofu and Arts, reminding her of what Arts has admitted seconds ago.

"Yes, I agree with Ngofu. Have no worries, Arts. Having no ambition is not a joke. These things are more common than you think."

Not to mention, the reason she is here is not entirely because of thirst of knowledge. Her disgraced lineage plays a big part too.

A flicker of realization passes through Shadow's eyes as he recognizes what Ngofu's smirk entails, causing him to roll his eyes discreetly, letting out an amused huff and crossing his arms. "And, fellow student Ngofu, I might suggest putting more emphasis towards your studies and ambitions here. It would be a shame if you got so caught-up by social decorum to neglect your education."

His eyes caught on Celune, and his expression changed towards one more contemplative. "There is no such thing as no ambition. Ambition does not always mean a lofty throne or a regiment at your beck and call. Ambition is a softer bed, better food, warmer walls and a roof which does not leak. As long as one thinks, one pursues comforts and higher luxuries, which is a form of ambition."

Danikle's response elicits a blank stare from Art. The idea of joining in on the laughter leaves him more confused, but he thinks it best to simply not respond rather than launch an inquisition into the meaning of the humiliated noble's words. Ngofu's analysis of the situation receives an affirmative nod, completely missing the subtle glance at Sahe and Nightgleam. However, the audible whispers of Sahe suddenly draws his stare before he can curtail the notion that the Crownforger family might want to adopt him. "Any special gifts I possess have escaped my awareness." The response seems to pay no attention the fact that the comment was not intended to be audible.
"Ambition is something I now possess." Art speaks, looking between Sahe, Celune, and Shadow. "It is a complex thing. It is made with thoughts and ideas. As a feral, there is only needs and simple desires. I would not say they are the same."

Seeing Sahrethe whispering to another jelousy burned through Danikle. For just a moment his "gift" rose within him perhaps to make his ear the twin of Nightgleams so that he might know what secret they shared. Just as quickly the shame at considering such a violation of privacy arose. Unable to help himself for long however he began to watch Sahrethe.
At some oportune moment when the group is distracted with conversation Danikle would give Sahrethe a curious look glancing from her to Nightgleam and lean towards her to whisper.
"What was that? Did I miss something?"

Sahe twitches slightly either at Art's comment or at Danikle's question."Sorry, just idle chatter," she bows and keeps her gaze low, and nudges Nightgleam to do likewise.

Curiosity sparked into suspicion in Danikle's eyes as he took a longer look at Nightgleam. Something deep and insecure in him rose up at the idea of Sahrethe sharing secrets with another something that he could not easily shove back down. He attempted to laugh it off with a flippant comment.
"Never mind I suppose I should be used to being excluded at this point."
The laugh came off much more terse than he had hoped and the remark much more wounded and self absorbed than he had hoped.

Meanwhile, in the background, about two dozen people have ascended to the the middle raised stage (the one on the opposing side from the entrance).

About half of them were clad in brown and yellow tunicas and trousers, reminiscent of the Shik style yet not quite the same, and wearing ceremonial masks. Their physiques were fit, and their postures uniform, clearly being trained for this event, yet not in a military way.

The other half were clad in garbs from all over the Fringe, and also wore the masks traditional for the corresponding cultures. Their postures were more spontaneous and bodies more varied by comparison. Perhaps most or all of these were professors and other officials.

One of the former group brought a large bowl full of murky liquid onto the raised stage.

Celune only smiles at Shadow's words because she partly agrees with him. But only partly.

Then the entrance of the dozen people attracts her attention. Her eyes lingers on the ceremonial arrangement, recognition dawning almost immediately.

The Lightbringer.

A familiar ritual, rich with symbolism. She smiles faintly to herself but kept the thought unspoken. There would be time for explanations later, should anyone ask.

For now, she simply watches in quiet anticipation.

The arc lamps under the ceiling began to dim, as did the light coming in through the windows - the flow of tamed lightning has been throttled in sync with the turning of Dayglare into Nightgleam. The gossiping cliques reacted to the dimming of lights by ceasing their discussions and turning their attention to the stage, on which everyone was now lined up in a more uniform pattern.

The ensembles began playing - a melody starting out quiet and light, but building up to a solemn and mysterious hymn.

One of the uniformly-dressed people - the master of ceremonies - spoke, in Hatambetl. "It is time. The end of the year is nigh, and its last day has come to an End, all in line with the celestial Order. But all that ends, gives way for something new. And every such Darkness promises," it gestured towards the glass bowl with a murky liquid, "the arrival of a new light."

The murky liquid in the glass bowl began to emit a bit of light, until the master of ceremonies gestured again, and a smaller, matte glass ball surfaced within it. The master of ceremonies picked it up and passed it to one of the other stage performers. They in turn continued passing it along, their gestures as they did so increasingly dramatic and dance-like, as the music also ramped up. As this happened, the dancers continued to pass along the lit globe amongst themselves, going repeatedly in an ever-expanding spiral. While their arm movements were wave-like and fluid, their footwork was more sharp and rapid, typical for city performers in the Shik Republic, though again slightly distinct.One of the professors stepped forward on the stage.

"And so today we say farewell to the dying year, not with sorrow, but with contentment. We dance, we sing, we play, we feast. We ensure the last evening of the year remains a happy one, and once it ends, we rest in the dark, for tomorrow's year will require us to be well-rested and hard-working, full of new events, new trials, new things to discover and learn. Let the festival begin!"

The ensemble's melody shifted from a solemn and ceremonial to a more lighthearted and ginger one. The professors walked down from the stage, while the professional performers continued their show, now performing what looks like a local step dance. The arc lights under the ceiling became brighter again.

A group of students - among whom Shik and Ingast attire seem most common - gathered in the middle of the ballroom and formed a circle, moving in sync with the melody. Their dancing style was, predictably, simpler and less refined, but also much more relaxed and easy-going than that of the on-stage performers. Many students from other regions seemed less confident about joining in at this stage.

The performance drew an end to conversations and confrontations, allowing Art to relax in the silent, unified purpose of being a spectator. As the glass ball was passed from performer to performer, he was more focused on recalling the Five Principles and their relevance to this ceremony due to their reference in the speech. His gaze briefly shifted to those around him as the curiosities about their beliefs began to rise. These thoughts, too, were pushed from the forefront as his peers began to dance. Awkward uncertainty held him. In order to not be left behind, he decided to resort to mimicry. Art glanced about to see if he could catch what Blooming Storm was doing.

Blooming Storm was standing alone by a wall, one of the many people who seemed not confident enough, or at least not familiar enough, to participate in the Shik-style group dance.

As for the drawing an end to the conversations, despite no longer making excuses, Sahrethe still looked a bit anxious after the latest exchange. Nightgleam was likewise silent, though his demeanour was calmer by comparison.

For some reason, Shadow's expression seemed to almost harden imperceptibly at the sight of the ritual, although outwardly he left no signs of anything other than studious respect for the school's traditions, as any proper pupil should. It was faintly noticeable, however, that his shoulders lowered fractionally once the ritual was complete, as if he was winding down from a fighting stance.

As the dancing began, Shadow crossed his arms and leaned back against a pillar, examining the dance intently but making no moves to try replicating it himself. A second later, however, he did glance at the others, including Hornet.

"I'm sure the time you've spent away from the homeland has yielded competencies in many foreign customs. Is this one of them, Ngofu?" An innocent question and a veiled nudge at their exile, perhaps in retaliation for the non-formal name term they were now on.

As the final notes of the ritual faded, Celune watched the dancers with quiet appreciation. The ceremony had unfolded almost exactly as she had expected, yet witnessing it firsthand carried a weight no text could quite capture. Her attention drifted across the room, lingering on Art as he hesitated at the edge of the dancers, then to Shadow standing with folded arms.

"It seems we're all content to observe first," she said with a faint, understanding smile.

Her gaze returned to the dancers for another moment. "The steps don't look overly complicated... though I imagine they're easier learned by doing than by watching." She folded her hands behind her back, her tone remaining light. "If either of you decides to give it a try, I wouldn't mind learning alongside you. Otherwise, I'm just as happy to enjoy the performance from here for a little while longer."

Taciturn and quiet Danikle watches the dancing and at Celune's question he remained stony faced but stepped forward with a hand out for them to follow.
"Why not, we will certainly learn more than whispering here."

Art glances curiously between his peers, taking note of Danikle's displays of aggravation and Sahe's meekness. It seemed the audible whispers weren't intended to be heard after all. Rather than slip closer to the dancing crowd in the middle of the room, the awkward karposark slunk away from Danikle and Celune toward the whispering duo. Blooming Storm's absence from participating informed him that there was no need to try to make a show of his abilities here, which was good as he had none.
"Apologies if I possibly contributed to this mysterious conflict." He says without whisper.