Zarkut is fascinated, but ultimately this doesn't answer the big questions. So he leaves the lab again, and heads to the central building, to explore it.
One of the scribes explains "someone, I don't remember who, said the aura is hungry, or aspected for hunger. Food doesn't grow well here, and the water, it is gone instantly. People eat more but they grow thin instead of fat. As for mundane threats." He laughs "They would have to make it across the desert and through the mountains, which are so complex my father still has to... lead me... but now my father is my age too." his face falls.
"A beautiful name," he observers. He was already fond of the creature. That makes sense, if it was his familiar.
The butterfly clearly wasn't a creature of exacting memory and notification - which makes sense, for many reasons. For one, Plasmatoris wasn't one to keep track of exacting numbers and dates, and all that. With this in mind, Plasmatoris decides to ask the butterfly about the paintings and sculptures he had collected into his gallery, to see if he could gather more from his potential familiar than he could from his possible muse. "Do you know anything about these paintings, or sculptures?" he asks in his mind. "They seem to all have been done in the last eighty years, but I have no memory of them - My body and mind have returned to their youth, if the situation is to be believed."
To further his study of the situation, he finally decides to go looking through his studio - and if he can find it, his lab - for notes on what was happening. What was going on with this strange world, and strange situation. Not that I expect much, he thinks. I'm terrible at keeping notes. My Parens would be quite mad.
Silas scowls as the scribes speaks.
“A rather unpleasant site by your account. But something must have drawn us here... More than just the isolation I assume”
Silas focuses entirely on the student. Trying to get a read on his face.
“Your father and you are the same age? This sort of thing has happened to others here? Who’s your father lad?”
Silas looks up and down the scribe trying to determine if he resembles anyone of the magi he has already encountered.
It must be one of them surely. Would a magi really be concerned with some mundanes crossing the desert? I suppose someone needs to be able to do it but still… it’s a bit below a magi surely
The butterfly responds "they are pretty" when asked about the artwork.
Plsmatoris' laboratory is attached to your gallary- or perhaps it is the other way around? In any case it has a large blank wall on one end and a massive window on the other, being well appointed with luxuries and artwork (palatial virtue & superior decoration), with a summoning circle just off of the middle, it is refined, spacious and disorganized, with faeries everywhere.
The boy answers Silas "My Father is Rashid al'Katubi, he is also a scribe, but unfortunately he was less motivated in his studies when he was young, so even though he taught me Latin, he now does not know Latin. He always told me 'you do not want to be like me Ibrahim, and not learn Latin until you are 23, it is easier to learn when you are young.' "
Plasmatoris gives the butterfly a bright smile, though he isn't sure the creature - his familiar? - can understand. Still, even the small compliment is a delight.
Then he moves finds himself staring at a swarm of faeries milling about his supposed laboratory. Ugh.. terrifying. He shakes his head. He is in a new situation, and apparently his Master's abject dislike of faeries was overcome during the last fourscore years. He pushes his hair back from his face, finally scrounging up a paint-spattered tie to hold his hair back from his face, and begins looking around the spacious lab for any notes that would include information on the missing years.
She bows her head to it "That is a wonderful name, but I will not be able to reproduce it when I need to talk to you. What does it mean?"
As they are talking, she enters her lab, and starts her search.
”So all of the mundanes have been returned to their youth, as well?”
Then the only people who know anything about how this covenant works are people who have always lived here, such as these boys, Lares thinks.
”Tell me, friends: what year were you born, and how old are you now?”
”At least we won’t have to deal with mundane foes on top of all this!” He suddenly seems startled. ”But… what about Barshako? Does she have any chance out there? I thought she would know her way in the desert, but she will have forgotten all about it… We’ll have to go get her!”
As the handsome young man steps into the library, he sees the gathering and heads in their direction.
"At least I'm not alone," says Argentius to himself.
Walking toward them, the young man looks over the group, pausing for a moment longer at Silas before looking on the next person. He clears his throat politely.
"I am Argentius ex Verditius, and I have no idea how I came to be here at Covenant de Liberte. Are you confused as I am?" He smiles faintly, almost hopefully.
Silas moves his gaze from the student to Lares as he begins to sound alarmed. Silas looks rather confused by this new name and concern.
“Barshako? Have you already made friends here?”
Before Silas can continue with more questions Argentius approaches them. Silas looks suspiciously upon the new arrival but as he introduces himself suddenly a spark of recognition fades away the doubt.
“Oh finally something I do remember in this place. The Contest of 1180… What was it now again? a ring? Yes you made that ring which won didn’t you?”
Silas smile at fellow House member. However, in the back of his head a small ting of familiar feeling once again emerges. Envy and injured pride. His own creation did lose to this man, which is not something which is easy to forgive. Silas tries to control his face as he continues.
“You might not remember me, but I also took part in that Contest. My name is Silas de Verditius of Himmis’ honoured confraternity. Liberte you say? First time I heard that name. But yes, we are just as confused as you. Somehow, we have woken up with no memories and in our young bodies. We believe the current year should be something like 1284.”
Aetherius stares in awe at the laboratory. Clearly this hasn't been built overnight. "Why on earth... What was I working on?" He approaches the mirror magnifying the heavens and the astronomical equipment to see how the setup is made, whether it was looking at something in particular. Then he checks the map with more attention.
the boy starts to answer Lares but closes his mouth while the magi speak.
The window the mirror in Aetherius' lab focuses through is closed, probably for safety since magnification of the sun might present a hazard in daytime. From the map it seems he as checking astrological alignments that were supposed to be associated with the lost temple of Mercury, and where it might be.
”Yes, I believe that the same fate has befallen everyone in this covenant. We must urgently develop a common plan of action – but first –”
”Barshako seems to have been my wife, but is now a young girl. She was as confused as one might imagine waking up here, and left the covenant a few moments ago to search for her mother. The mother must, I assume, be dead by now. I let her, figuring that she would soon realize that her situation is not as she thought. I wasn’t aware, however, how dangerous this place is - magical monstrosities, starvation, and thirst being just the dangers I am aware of.”
He waves at the boy encouragingly.
”Please, tell me: is it dangeros out there for someone such as herself? If so, I must act quickly before she gets too far.”
Argentius nods to Silas, though his eyes narrow slightly. "A brother Verditius. Yes, that was me at the Contest. A year ago." He looks more deeply at Silas. "Or not a year ago. A hundred years ago? I vaguely recall a Silas…" Perhaps the young man has changed his hair style…
Argentius turns as Lares speaks, listening to the interaction with the boy.
"Sounds like the same complexity the woman in the kitchen talked about: a girl who is a mother and a mother who is a girl, both are supposed to be my cook. The scale of this magic is unbelievable."
Argentius grows silent as he listens again to Lares and the boy.
Do my notes have anything more on this lost temple?
Not sure if it got lost, didn't see a response.
The boy inhales at Lares question "For someone like her? I do not know, I know she is... not a normal person. Nor is her mother dead, her mother is simply not human anymore. I believe she now feeds on the flesh of humans, you were looking for a way to spare Barshako the same fate. It seems you, or someone, has succeeded for the moment."
Aetherius has volumes of notes on the lost temple.
The Monocerous snorts "It means great beast who should not be challenged and slayer of elephants." he follows you into your lab.
The only notes Plasmatorius finds in his laboratory are lab texts and notes on pieces of artwork he apparently studied years ago,
Lares stops and looks at the boy quizzically.
”…not normal how? Was she a magus? And her mother – she just likes the taste, is a dragon, or what?”
Is it something I could read and get acquainted with over a couple of hours / days, or is that something I should consider to be seasonal study material?
seasonal study material
Theboy answers "her mother is a Bouda, a sometimes hyena, and a witch. Or was, now she is just a hyena monster"