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(Edit-change of plans, watch this space)

"Hmm," Rayne mused, glancing curiously at the large nearby window, the pastel colours of early evening seeping through its warped glass and blanketing the room in a wonderfully soft warm glow that seemed to cling to every surface it touched. The day had moved on without them, and the kit was beginning to feel a little peckish again, though frankly it was more of anther distraction then an actual problem. However, before he could bring this point to bear on the stagnating conversation, there was a rush of air as the door behind them burst open, and a rather energetic Wren came rushing in from the corridor outside.
"Hay Rayne! You got'a come check this out! Seth found a dead rat upstairs and it exploded when we poked it!
Rayne's eyes widened with the mental image of a rat spontaneously disappearing in a miniature fireball "No way! Exploaded?"
"Yup, it was all like-" Wren chirped, imitating the sound and making an exaggerated gesture with his hands. "Dad thinks it musta' ate a fish popper or something, it's so cool! Come on before mom gets rid of it!" And with the boy ran off, beckoning Rayne to follow from the door way as he slipped out.
The kit was still a little unsure, but once a quick nervous glance at Kathryn had been returned by a week smile and a few words of warning to remain within the tower, he quickly slipped off the chair and scampered off after Wren, yelling ahead for the older boy to wait for him.

The rest of the day just seemed to fly by. The rat had made quite a mess, bits of fluff and limbs were scattered across the floor, radiating from a small red splat near one corner where Seth had dragged the dead vermin out of its hidey hole in the wall. However, much to the children's disappointment, Indria had already begun to quickly clear away the various impressive stains, Rayne looking on it utter fascination as she levitated a sponge to clear off the floor while she brushed away the remains of the carcass. Now determined to know some more about the magic he'd been endowed with, Rayne almost continually bugged Wren to show him more tricks. Though he couldn't learn them as easily, given the older boy's poor instructions, by the end of the day he at least had a better idea of just how far behind he was. Levitation, air moving spells, making water race around in a bole until it tipped over while standing on the opposite side of the room, there seemed to be no limit to the magic's reach or Wren's talent. Suffice to say, Rayne came out determined to figure out at least half the feats he'd seen that day, to the point of experimenting with the water boles every time he passed one, managing to get it to bulge slightly at the middle as though it were being pushed up from below.
Kyvan wasn't back till particularly late in the afternoon, fur choked with black soot from the furnace and wearing a satisfied expression, happy in the fact that some things seemed to be finally becoming a little more stable after the last few days of torment. Once everyone was finally back at the tower after their numerous endeavors, a short tea was brought up from the kitchens and laid out on the second floor dining room for them, something much appreciated by everyone, though tomorrow they would either have to cook something of their own, or join the rest of the student body in the main hall. The air in the room was significantly more relaxed too, the tension that had built from the various attacks seeming to ebb away as the evening wore on and gave way to nightfall. Not that Rayne noticed this change, as he was far too busy kenning the utensils through napkins and trying to make a sugar-shaker fall over by staring at it, receiving a sharp glance from Kyvan when he realized what the lad was trying to do.
By morning, however, the change in temperament had dawned on the kit, a kind of melancholy wafting through the curtains of the bevy along with the morning breeze from an open window. It was that same feeling that everyone but him seemed have settled into a norm, still acting as though he was still the lost boy that they had stumbled upon at the tavern. He had expected them to at least act a little different around him, yet so far only Leon seemed to have done so, and despite how much that had disturbed him, it was comforting (in a strange semi-detached way) to know that there was someone who didn’t join in with the masquerade with the others. The same sense of melancholia had woken him several times during the night, his attention being drawn to the now neatly folded message which he had stashed in a heavy book for safe keeping along with his pendent. These two scraps were practically all he still had that actively linked his mind with the events of the past few days, giving a much needed anchor to the reality of his situation from the dreamy memories that seem to fade away all too quickly when his focus was not upon them. From his mysterious rescuers signature, he had begun to drive what the message said on his own, having forgotten its details in the hype of the counsel session. It had been more then a little unusual when he finally derived a word from the botches of strange ruins, pronouncing the word in a totally different language while still fully understanding its meaning, not even requiring the English equivalent for him to make the correlation, as though he’d been reading both languages all his life and had just forgotten the letters to the latter of the two. The rest that he still couldn’t make out he had resolved to ask Kathryn about in the morning, but now as the light from the door way crept through over kyvan’s sleeping form, he found the message and its broken content quite far from his thoughts. Once again, he left the pendent well hidden beneath the books along with the folded note, being sure not to wake Kyvan as he clumsily clambered out of the bevy and padded into the living room. From the pail shades in the fresh light, he could tell it was still remarkably early in the day and for a while he considered going for a wander around the tower, maybe go up to the roof to watch the sunrise over the grate breadth of cloud that seemed ever present on the horizon. But met by the stern faces of the guard, standing like a granite statue outside the silently opened door, the child changed his mind, and slinked back into the softly lit room to await the others arrival for breakfast.
Things were still far from normal, and Rayne had begun to doubt they ever would become ‘normal’ again.

Kyvan rolled over and yawned. His eyes blinked open and he look towards the window.

Starting to get light out, he thought, I'd better go get Ayshe and introduce him to his first early morning at the forge.

Kyvan sat up and looked over to see Rayne missing. Not surprising, considering all that had happened to the boy recently.

He probably needs to think some things over, Kyvan mused, As long as he doesn't try to knock anything else over, we'll be fine.

Kyvan smiled at this last thought. It was good to see the boy learning to use his Lux, even if it wasn't up to snuff with other kits his age. He had only been a Raconian for a short time. He stopped in the middle of putting his shirt on.

Why is it always so shocking for me to remember what he actually is? he thought, It can't be easy for him and I've got to remember that he's not a normal kit.

Kyvan finished getting dressed, picked up his hammer and went out to get Ayshe. He nodded to the guards as he climbed the stairs and entered the room that Ayshe and Leon shared. He padded over to Ayshe's bevy and gentley shook his shoulder.

"Ayshe," Kyvan said in the low voice, close to Ayshe's ear, "Time to go to work, lad."

Greentree had gotten up very early, waking while dawn was still a dim blur on the eastern horizon. He stretched, as well as he could with his arm in a sling, and then went outside for a brief run in the early morning light. Don't want to get soft waiting for this to heal. Three days lazing around is enough.

He returned to find their young charge sitting alone in the dining room. "Good morning, Rayne. Shall we go raid the pantry?"

Ayshe was sleeping very peacefully in his bevy. There was a calmness over him that Kyvan was glad to see. He felt a tinge of guilt having to wake him. Ayshe rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. They were glowing blue, matching the amulet he wore around his neck. Slowly they returned to their natural color and he grinned.

"Have you eaten yet? I got the urge to cook before we go."

"No, I haven't," Kyvan said, just as his stomach growled, "Let's head down to the kitchen."

Turning away from the spot from which a small silvery ring had just vanished, the kit gave the guardsman a watered down smile and gently shook his head, still looking a little groggy.
" 'am okay, sir. Not really hungry, an' the others are going to be too long now."
Naturally it was a complete lie, he was aways ravishing in a morning, but the boy was hopping to get some more private practice with the strange sting like anomalies. It wasn't that he'd taken Leon's warning to hart, but he had filed it under 'things to consider' in the back of his mind. The last thing he wanted was to end up back on the bio-mancers exam table, he'd had more then his fair dose of prodding and shocked gasps to last a life time.
The guard was clearly quite invigorated from his morning excursion, Rayne could practically smell the exertion oozing away from the Rac's fur.
"Have a good run?"

Greentree shrugged with one shoulder. "Not a proper run - jostles the broken arm too much yet. Just enough to stay a little bit in practice." He chose a spot down the table a few spaces away from the boy, respecting his uneasiness. "There's usually fruit or something in the cooler if you're up before the cooks. And you're probably hungry if you've been practicing with Lux for the first time."

He got up and went into the kitchen, and found a bowl of melon cubes and berries left over from the evening before. He smiled slightly to himself and took it back, setting it midway between his spot and Rayne's, taking a few and popping them into his mouth. "Have some."

Adam woke up and immediately wished he hadn't. He'd stayed awake too long thinking about the events of the day, trying to make sense of them and hold onto his sanity. It hadn't been easy, and in the end he'd opted for staying sane and getting some sleep. Unfortunately, his old guardsman instincts were back, including that annoying inner alarm that wouldn't let him sleep past the early morning hours. Even today he was likely only behind by an hour or two at most. When duty called, it was best to greet it wide awake.

He got out of his nest and dressed quietly, not wanting to wake his roommate. Who was it they put me with again? The courier? Or someone else? His mind was too groggy to really think about it, so he just left his room and headed for breakfast, well before most of the others. He still wasn't much of a people person.

Greeting the guardsman outside his door, he headed downstairs, thinking over yesterday's events. It had been a stroke of luck to run into an old contact, a bartender who lived and worked in the Tumbledowns and had taught him a few street fighting tactics. Those lessons saved his life a few times, especially when some punk tried something he knew, and he had always tried to find time to slip down to the bar out of uniform. He wish he'd never lost touch with old Tanner, especially if the rumors the bartender reported were true. Strange attacks, disappearances, people torn to shreds... it just wasn't natural.

Speaking of unnatural, there was the small matter of one Ayshe Aushwaan (How the heck do ye spell it anyway? he wondered), a young man who wasn't quite that. Adam had witnessed him killing the griffit, or whatever it was, while the others were waiting outside at his insistence. The compass becoming public knowledge was bad enough; now he had evidence of illegal biomancy. Experiments on Rac Conans were strictly regulated, and only permissible if the subject agreed and the risk was small. For the most part, there were effectively no such experiments. And yet, here was the evidence walking right in front of him. Bad enough that one of the enemy's artifacts come into the public spotlight, especially if they had spies in their midst. It'd be a nightmare if it was learned that one of Rayne's protectors was a monster created by biomancy the likes of which hadn't been seen since Rosad Beither. The press would have a field day with it.

He'd threatened the shopkeeper to keep him quiet, but he didn't think it worked. The man might say nothing of Ayshe's little bit of showing off, seeing who his employer was, but the compass was powerful, and the greedy always craved power. The only ways he could think of to ensure the man's silence were either a slit throat or a hefty bribe. He knew he did not have just cause for the former, and he was not foolish enough to think he had enough funds for the latter. So he settled for grabbing him by the front of his shirt and implying bad things would follow any leak of the unusual events or conversation that occured. In all likelihood, the man had already informed his employer of the compass, a pathetic lapdog begging for scraps. Such men disgusted him.

But what disturbed him most was the apparent connection between the two problems and that ancient evil who had created so many terrible things. Were the Disciples of Rosad Beither a myth or fact? And if fact, did they have anything to do with young Ayshe, or the strange happenings in the Tumbledowns? Had another vault been cracked and its secrets unleashed?

As he descended the final steps to the breakfast hall, these troubling questions kept his mind whirling, his grip on the bannister just a bit more firm than necessary. Too many questions; not enough answers. How was he going to solve these mysteries? And how much of his sanity was he going to pay?

It took him a moment to realize that he was now at the bottom of the stairs, and that someone had just said something to him.

"Hmm? What? Oh, sorry... didn't catch the question..."

It didn't take long for Ayshe to whip together a first class meal, even without the resources of the Manos at his disposal. Soon the smell of breakfast was drifting throughout the complex Ayshe whistled happily, making plenty of portions as he guessed others may soon be joining them for breakfast.

Barnard walked in, pulled one of the chairs out from the table, spinning it 360 degrees on one leg before plopping down, and pulling up to table.
"Looks good, my only question is were to start and how much I shall indulge my sweet tooth..." said Barnard selecting a roll to start with while he considered his options.