The Enclave

Before long, a woman dressed in long white robes in the same style as Julane swings the doors open, giving a slight bow to Cassandra. The sight that greets Cassandra is the picture of beauty: a mane of beautiful, wavy blonde hair, aquamarine eyes flecked with gold, and a very curvaceous figure that fills the revealing robes quite nicely and puts the Grand Healer's to shame, and when she raises back to her straight-backed professional posture and speaks, her voice comes out in a crisp, smooth alto.
"Good evening. Are you Lady Winter?" she asks, getting straight to the point.

"The coin," replies the woman without missing a beat, holding out her slim-fingered hand palm-up and staring Cassandra down unwaveringly. Her eyes, while beautiful in colour, are placid and nearly completely lacking in emotion, her thin eyebrows also perfectly level and unexpressive. She seems not to even acknowledge her own physical attractiveness, emphasizing none of her features with her straight-backed and completely unprovocative posture.

The woman takes the coin in forefinger and thumb and withdraws a tall white Elven Oak staff from a rack nearby. She mutters a hushed incantation and the diamond wrapped in wooden digits atop the staff begins to shine with an otherworldly white light. A ray of the glorious light casts itself upon the coin, and the coin glows a bright gold for just a moment before fading into transparency, revealing within it a forest green gemstone, perhaps some sort of jade, hidden beneath the gold plates. It has carved upon its face a motto in an ancient Elven script, whose flowing letters glow like the sun in the light of the staff. This script is undeniably beautiful, pleasing to the eye in a way one finds difficult to explain, its lilting, curving calligraphy gloriously elegant, while being inexplicably simple in design.

Unlikely as it is, if Cassandra can read the script, she'll see that it says, "Le nathlof hí." which translates roughly to "We welcome you here."
The mage studies it with a scrupulous eye for several moments before nodding in satisfaction and terminating the beam of light with a single, whispered word. She returns the token to Cassandra and gives the first smile since the beginning of their interaction.
"Welcome, sister," she lilts, "to the Enclave of Isranian Magi. Keep that token on you at all times, it identifies us as the Order of Healers to one another. Follow."
She beckons to Cassandra, before leading her up the massive, winding staircase that wraps about the central pillar of the tower. It must be twelve stories before they arrive at where they're apparently supposed to be, and the mage woman steps onto a ledge, guiding Cassandra through a tall pair of oaken double doors. After a few more dashes down winding hallways and labyrinthine corridors, they've arrived at a small, unassuming door of redwood marked with the same Elven script as before, and below it, the name Julane Gael.

The mage woman knocks twice, and Julane's soft voice carries through the door.
"Coming!" calls the muffled intonation, and several mysteriously loud thumps can be heard as the patter of Julane's feet approach the door. Finally, the door swings in and Julane's rudy face appears, seemingly winded but smiling, before the pair.
"Lady Winter! I am glad to see you," she exclaims, thumping her redwood staff upon the ground for emphasis.
"Thank you, Aetheria," she then says, turning to the mage woman and bowing her head in respect. The mage woman returns the gesture and scurries off, presumably to return to whatever she was doing before being put on door duty.

With Aetheria gone, the Grand Healer turns her full attention to Cassandra, giving an uncharacteristically excited grin.
"Lady Winter...or should I say, Initiate Cassandra Winter, are you ready to begin your training? There is a long, difficult road ahead of you, and one that will likely be a great deal different from your life up until this point," she exclaims, though her voice is still its soft and soothing alto despite her obvious elation at having a new apprentice.
"I will not lie, it will be hard, and it will be dangerous, but you will learn more here than anywhere else in the world. Still, I would not blame you if you were to run away now, fly back down those steps and never look back. I hope, though, that you do not. If you are ready, take my hand, and let me guide you to your greater destiny."
She holds out her hand, palm up in offering, waiting for Cassandra to grasp it.

"Excellent! I am certainly glad to hear it," replies Julane with a bright smile. Then, her expression turns more somber and she starts to murmur an incantation in a pleasant, lilting, flowing language reminiscent of a bubbling creek or a gentle, cool summer breeze. At first, nothing seems to happen other than the Grand Healer keeping hold of Cassandra's hand for an uncomfortably long time. Then, as her chants continue, a low white glow appears upon the back of Cassandra's hand, growing slowly in intensity.

The heat between their palms begins to grow as well, increasing in small increments until it's a searing, blistering heat that feels as if she's holding her hand in a fire, although if she attempts to recoil she'll find Julane's grip to be more than enough to hold her in place, surprisingly strong for such a slim woman. Julane's chanting grows in tempo, though her voice is still soft and soothing, and the glow of their entwined hands grows to such an intensity that it's nearly blinding, forcing one to look away lest the image is burned into one's retinas. Finally, it culminates in a brilliant flash, and the heat, as well as the intense light, have vanished, replaced instead by a rock hard, bulging weight between their hands. Julane finally releases her hand, which has oddly enough returned from the experience completely unscathed, cool and smooth and lacking in the second degree burns that one might expect.

When Julane pulls her hand back there lies within her palm a shimmering red gemstone, somehow cut into an impossibly perfectly smooth oval shape without a single edge or blemish. The ambient light refracts in two within the stone as Julane holds it up to her face and examines it closely, rolling it about between her forefinger and thumb, casting dancing lights upon the nearby walls. After several moments of squinting and examining and rolling the gemstone about, Julane smiles up at Cassandra.
"Ruby," she states, matter-of-factly, "egotistical and mercurial, quick to make both friends and enemies, but possessing potential for extraordinarily hard work and great dedication. As a focusing stone, it often presents itself to fire magi. It is...unorthodox for a healer, but certainly better than Midnight Iron or Jet."

She presses the stone into Cassandra's hand -- it's still hot to the touch, but not so much so that it burns -- and turns about, beckoning for her to enter. Julane's study seems a lot bigger on the inside than one might think from the modest door without. Huge, towering bookcases holding all manner of scripts and tomes in innumerable languages line three out of the six walls. Across from the centre bookcase, on the opposing wall a large hearth burns brightly before a long white oak table and six red, cushioned chairs sat about the it. Two windows look out over the Free City itself, with their shimmering silver curtains drawn, and a personal desk stands before one of the windows, papers strewn somewhat haphazardly about it. A twisted redwood staff with a smooth opal stone wrapped atop it with five wooden "fingers" stands against the wall, waiting for its master's call.
"Sorry about the mess," apologises Julane as she approaches one of the bookcases, searching the tomes with an outstretched index finger.
"The next stage before you go about learning our ways is to pick your staff. Different materials and carving styles resonate with different people; your focusing stone will likely change many times as you change and grow as a person, but your staff -- assuming it doesn't somehow break -- stays with you for life."

Julane stretches her arm out, and the redwood staff flies from its resting place and nestles itself in her palm. She turns to Cassandra and plants it in the ground.
"It's an important decision, and one that should not be made without careful consideration," she states, her tone teacherly, but very serious and grave. Then she turns back, and immediately finds the volume she's looking for, pulling it from its resting place in between a book about focusing stones and one whose title is in an incomprehensible runic script. She twirls about and hands it face-up to Cassandra with a smile. "'The Comprehensive Index of Magical Materials, Wands, Spellbooks, and Staves' by Magos Dominus Bertrand Vallian of the Gheridian Empire" it reads. It's an extremely thick and heavy book, and it doesn't exactly seem like a page-turner.
"Your first order of business," she states, "is to read this from page 1201 to page 2004 -- the part about magical materials and their relevance in crafting wands and staves -- and tell me exactly what material you want to use. Then, we'll go out to wherever this material is best acquired, and we'll find it, even if it's deep within the Blackfog Mountains, in a murky swamp in some dismal valley, at the bottom of the ocean...well, you get the idea."

"Just refer to me as Julane, if you please. We needn't use honourifics; I may be the leader of this organisation but I am not above you in status. I am but a teacher, not some tyrant. If you feel the need to address me as anything other than my name, you may use 'Muinthel'. It is the ancient Elven word for 'sister', and implies equal status rather than some sort of leader-follower relationship. I prefer it that way, and it is how those who preceded us referred to one another. Those few males in our Order are referred to as 'Muindor': 'brother'. I will teach you more about those ancient and wise beings who founded the Order more than a millennium before the Cataclysm upon acquiring your staff," replies Julane with a gentle smile, leading Cassandra to the fluffy chairs surrounding the hearth.

Julane sits her new pupil down in one before moving to her desk and leaving Cassandra in peace for a moment to read. She draws an enchanted hotstone from her drawer and traces the carvings to activate it. She then draws a small cast iron teapot from the same drawer, placing it gently upon the quickly smoldering hotstone, before casting a dusting of herbs into the pre-prepared water within the pot and closing the lid. She returns to the hearth with that floating stride of hers and sits across from Cassandra, examining the woman with inquisitive glacial blue eyes, tracing her every expression as she flicks through the pages.

Julane smiles gently as she deigns that Cassandra is, in fact, taking her reading seriously, and leans back, waiting for Cassandra to finish, as well as the tea. When Cassandra declares her desired material, Cassandra's smile broadens.
"An excellent choice. Most newer recruits request Elven Oak or mithril, thinking that the rarest materials will make them more powerful, but in truth it is you that makes the staff, not the reverse. Picking a material traditionally used by Sallowlands aquamancers is a brave choice, too, but browse the tome once more, just to be entirely certain this is what you wish. Remember that this staff will likely stick with you for life."
Just then, the teapot begins to scream, and Julane stands to take it off the heat.
"Tea?" she offers, producing two small, porcelain teacups from the same drawer that she drew the stone and pot from.

"You like Jasmine, I hope?" questions Julane as she returns from her preparation, setting one of the porcelain cups in front of Cassandra and cradling her own.
"It's a nice, flowery, subtle flavour. My favourite."
She smiles at Cassandra as she confirms that mangrove wood is in fact her final choice, and nods slowly.
"Well, I am glad that your heart was so set on it that you didn't bother to read back through the tome in earnest," she laughs. "We will leave for your gathering on the morrow. I made the proper arrangements prior to your arrival, so you need not worry about acquiring your own transportation. You will also sleep here, in the Conjunction tonight, as I've prepared your new quarters. Your room is, conveniently, right beside my quarters. I think you will enjoy it here. When the sounds and vibrations of life die down around you and the sun retreats beneath the horizon, you can feel the ebb and flow of magical energy here, coursing through the tower like the lifeblood of a great creature of legend. Open your eyes, your ears, and your mind tonight, and you will see exactly what I mean."

"Anyhow, your initial preparation is done. Is there anything you'd like to ask me about? Any questions you have about the Order you've just joined, perhaps? I am always here to answer your questions and I will do so to the best of my ability," concludes Julane, her lips still turned up into that ever-gentle, almost motherly smile.

Skylark limps slowly towards the entrance of the enclave, even from a distance it's clear that he is worse for wear, a think line of blood trailing behind him as he walks, painstakingly slowly towards the door.

As he looks up at the tower, it would be clear to anyone looking down that a long wound was fresh on his face, long and thin, tracing a line from ear to chin, it appears to be festering slightly at the edges.

Despite his pain, he stops for a moment to take in the sight of the Enclave, he'd long wished to see it, if under better circumstances. Rallying himself, he carries on towards the doors.

After a while, the entrance to the tower opened on it's own accord, and through the door walked Daedalus. The Minister of Magic smiled as he met eyes with Kargth.

"Welcome to the Enclave, I noticed you were making your way over, so I decided I would come out and greet you, I am Daedalus, Isra's Minister of Magic," he said, offering a hand to shake. 

Daedalus listened with interest to Kargth as he explained what he needed. Afterwards, the minister would simply nod once.

"Sure, follow me to my office," Daedalus said.

Through the door Daedalus had come in through and a short walk through some rather non-descript hallways, and they would find themselves at Daedalus' office. 

Daedalus would enter sitting at the desk within. There would be a couple of comfortable looking chairs in the room too in front of the desk for Kargth to choose from, or he could stand.

"Alright, so you're trying to figure out what you are? I can't guarantee I have the information you seek, though I certainly can try to help you. Do you have any other details, anything at all?"