A Cervani in the robes of a mind mage sweeps into the room and eyes the dozing figure of Envoy. "I was informed that you were done with her, Dean Ssrithiri," he says, voice cool, not looking at the serpent to whom his question is directed.

"I am, for now, Dean Viscoi. She sleeps because she is tired, I am sure," the other master replies.

Viscoi flicks his gaze briefly to the massive Naga, then turns to Envoy and begins to chant, the sound accompanied by ritualized gestures.

Envoy blinks and wakes up shortly after the Mind Mage begins, then smiles and looks around. "Oh, hello Dean Ssrithiri," she purrs in Nagai, and gestures to the chanting Mage. "Aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

"Good evening, Mage Envoy," Ssrithiri replies, after a moment of hesitation. "This is Dean Viscoi of the Sphere of Mind." The Cervani frowns slightly, though is isn't clear whether it's with concentration or in response to something said.

"Oh!" Envoy says, holding a hand to her mouth. "I hope I haven't spoiled his spell." Looking from the stag to the snake, she whispers to the Naga, "What is he doing, exactly?"

"Examining you, Mage Envoy," Ssrithiri explains. "You would have to do more than just talk to ruin his spell. Dean Viscoi is a master of the craft, of course."

"Oh, I don't mind examinations," Envoy smiles, then winks to the Naga, "so long as the doctor doesn't have cold hands."

The buck's frown deepens, but he does not pause in his chanting, and all the occupants of the room can feel the magic gathering to him, now visible as pinpricks of light on his fingertips and the points of his antlers. Ssrithiri shifts his coils. "He will be done soon," he tells Envoy.

Envoy nods, and smiles to the Cervani. "He is certainly more handsome than Dean Malthus was."

Mage Clover's ears turn bright pink at Envoy's remark, while Ssrithiri only blinks. Viscoi shows no reaction, continuing his chant undistracted.

After about fifteen minutes, the mind mage finishes his chant, and for some moments stands, searching Envoy with dark gray eyes, while lines of light dance along his fingers and antlers. His gaze flicks to a point beyond her head, southwards, and he gestures with his hands. The lines of light leap to Envoy's face, circle her head, then dart off to the disappear against the southern wall of the room. He nods, once. "She is possessed," he announces. "Send for an exorcist."

The watch officers blink in surprise, and Clover gasps. "Possessed? But – how?"

Viscoi directs his gray gaze to Clover. "A distant ritual – and a major one at that, going on for a long time now, I would judge. I do not know how or why they managed to focus on Mage Envoy, but they have, and she has been possessed by their spell. Now, get me an exorcist."

Dean Ssrithiri slides forward, away from the wall. "Let's not be over-hasty, here, Dean," he interjects.

Envoy blinks again, showing a look of surprise. "Possessed by what, Dean Viscoi?"

"Over-hasty?" Viscoi looks askance at Dean Ssrithiri. "The girl is possessed. I can't imagine that even you managed to overlook this fact." The buck ignores Envoy's response entirely.

"I think possession may not be the correct term for her condition," Ssrithiri says quickly. "It is more a … union. With shared goals and purposes. Perhaps."

"I don't suppose I could get a third opinion, please," Envoy asks politely. "Is there a Spirit Mage available? Surely that would clear up the confusion over possession."

Smiling again at the stag, Envoy adds, "I mean no offense or attempt to impugn your findings, Dean, but in the past the results of Mind Magic on me have been … well, less than satisfactory."

Viscoi stares at the Naga. "Have you gone mad? A union?" He looks at one of the watchmen. "You. Get me an exorcist. A master of the Spirit Sphere. Now."

The man jumps at the command, then nods and starts to leave the room.

Ssrithiri moves to block the watchman. "Listen to her – she's an Exile; they don't work the way that natives do, Dean," he protests.

"I'm not going to listen to the dubious wisdom of a possessed girl," Viscoi snaps. "Go," he orders the watchman, and the man darts past Ssrithiri to flee the chamber.

Envoy sits up straighter and takes on an indignant tone. "I am a fellow Mage, Dean. And while the Sphere of Mind has never been accepting of me, I had hoped that it would now at least behave with a bit more civility and respect.Dean Malthus nearly got me abducted by a Chiga during the last Mind ritual I was subjected to, and I will not be put at risk against my will again."

"Dean Viscoi, Mage Envoy has been dealing with the problems in the Dream Realm – and you know how dear this subject is to my own heart – for some years now, and apparently her Exile nature has afforded her more safety in this realm than all our magicks have. What has happened to her is the culmination of this work. Do not dismiss it so lightly based on the results of a single ritual," the Naga tells his fellow mage.

The Cervani looks between the two, then tosses his antlered head. "What she has done is gotten herself in far over her head," he says, acerbic. He looks at the Exile. "All right. For the sake of argument and because I can't do anything until the exorcist arrives anyway, what do you claim your current condition is, Spirit?"

"I am Envoy of Lothrhyn," Envoy says, glaring at the Mind Mage. "And I do not accept that I am being possessed by any spirit until a Spirit Mage can confirm and identify such a claim. I will not have you unwittingly 'exorcise' some vital part of my consciousness, which is of a rather unique nature and which has been augmented by Sifran magic as well in the past."

"As it happens, we agree on this point. I am not an exorcist, and, as this is the College Esoterica, we are well-supplied with experts on that subject. I have neither reason nor inclination to try to cure your condition on my own," Viscoi says, his tone still clipped. "So you would try to convince me that I cannot tell the difference between possession and mind-alteration? You appear to be suffering from some of the latter, as well, but the possession is far more easily fixed."

Grinning again, Envoy asks, "And in what way am I suffering, Dean Viscoi?"

The watchmen earlier dispatched pokes his head through the door. "Mage Hymu is on her way, Dean."

"Good," Viscoi tells him, then looks back to Envoy. "You may not be suffering at all, Spirit, but the personality you have displaced is, I suspect, less pleased. Did your makers give you a name, Spirit, or did they just tell you to adopt that of whatever host they gave you?"

Envoy sighs, placing a hand to her chest and adopting a put-upon expression. "Perhaps I am the Ghost of Candlemass Past. Or Amenlichtli's nicer sister. I could claim to be the vengeful spirit of Mage Isstan, come to seek revenge. But I'm afraid it really is just me, Envoy the Exile."

Mage Clover wrinkles her nose at Envoy. "Weren't you the 'Avatar of Inala' earlier this evening?" she interjects skeptically. Viscoi glances between the two, then pulls up a chair, settling himself into it comfortably, still watching Envoy.

The Aeolun turns her smile on the Lapi, and wags her ears in a Cervaniesque show of amusement. "So nice of you to remember, Mage Clover. But being infused with the spirit of deity is not the same thing as having that spirit take up residence. Gods are not Spirits, after all."

The rabbit looks irritated, while Viscoi comments, "Ah, religion. Unfortunately for you, the College does not distinguish between such niceties."

"Perhaps we should," Ssrithiri says, sliding up to the table.

Continuing, the serpent adds, "You are, surely, aware that the problems with the Dream Realm are enormously complex. Mage Envoy has been using an entirely different tact in pursuing them. She has enlisted the force of a Babelite Goddess, Inala, to help us reclaim the Dream Realm from the Babelite Mages who have warped it. Her current interaction with Inala is the culmination of years of work within the mages' own ritually-created device. Acquiring Inala's aid was a masterstroke on her part, and one which we may all benefit from – or at least those of us who practice the Dream Arts."

"I'm sure that everyone can benefit from Inala's largess," Envoy smiles proudly.

"This is absurd pseudo-mystical nonsense. Dean Ssrithiri, surely you cannot be so desperate as to believe that your salvation lies in a spirit that's been created by the very mages that have ruined Dream Magic in the first place?" Viscoi folds his arms across his chest.

The Naga glances to Envoy. "I believe Mage Envoy has subverted the intentions of the spirit's creators in forming an alliance with Inala. Inala can be our weapon against them now."

Envoy does not comment, unsure whether to back up the Naga's assertion, or point out that Inala is not a mere magically created spirit, any more than she is merely a golem.

"And Mage Envoy thinks this all ideal, does she? Quite happy to be sharing your body with a goddess?" Viscoi's gray eyes study the Exile's face.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Envoy remarks, smirking. "I was created to serve such a purpose, originally. Or did you forget I am artificial?"

For the first time, the mind mage seems taken aback. He rests the backs of his knuckles against his chin for a moment. "There is that," he concedes.

A small beige Zerda in white robes walks through the door, silver bells tinkling in her ears. "Dean Viscoi? You requested my presence."

The serpent turns and gestures for the Zerda to come in. "Welcome, Mage Hymu. Verify for me that Mage Envoy is possessed, please."

Envoy winks at Clover, and stage-whispers, "I'm beginning to think there is a conspiracy to keep me here indefinitely, in order to boost the morale of your officers."

The vulpine mage's eyes widen, and she nods to Viscoi. "At once, sir. Ah … are you consenting or protesting this, Mage Envoy?" she asks, managing to look polite and worried at the same time.

The Aeolun bows to the Zerda, and says, "In the interest of clearing up any misconceptions, I consent to being tested for the presence of any possessive spirits."

"Oh, good. Would you come with me to the other room, then? This one isn't already set up for such rituals," Hymu says. "I assume you want a comprehensive analysis, Dean Viscoi? This will take me … a while. You might want to get some rest, especially since the subject is cooperative."

"No chaperone?" Envoy asks with a giggle.

"I think the Watch can provide us with adequate security, at least in the room I have in mind," the Zerda continues.

Mage Viscoi rises from his chair. "I'll watch."

"As will I," Ssrithiri adds, eyeing the other Dean.

Envoy asks suspiciously, "There aren't straps and dental tools involved, are there?"

"No, just white candles, incense, smoke, and some blood," the Spirit Mage says cheerfully. "Come along, now." She leads the way from the room, waiting for the others to follow.

The Aeolun follows along, looking faintly disappointed at the description of the room.

Some hours later, Mage Hymu completes her ritual, and pronounces Envoy possessed, in quite scandalized tones. She suggests an immediate exorcism, but when pressed on the matter, admits that the possession is unusual in nature, and that the personality of Envoy does seem to be exerting an unusual degree of free will – although she would not by any stretch say it was complete. After substantial wearying discussion, Ssrithiri finally invokes "Dean's privilege" – an ancient custom allowing a Dean of the College to prevent a fellow mage from casting a ritual until a Council may be convened to analyze the situation.

Five mages gather at the head of the table. By their robes, they are each from a different sphere: Mind, Water, Dream, Spirit, and Chaos are all represented. Ranged in chairs away from the table are a handful of other mages – Viscoi, Cyprian, Ssrithiri, Yffryn, and Hymu. All look up, and an ongoing argument falls silent as a white poodle in Templar robes enters the room.

Upon arrival, Elise stops a few feet into the room and presents a military curtsey, left hand steadying her sword by resting on its pommel, and a slight dip with a careful and practiced motion of the feet. "You summoned me?" inquires the poodle of the gathered mages as she looks between them.

"Yes," the water mage who heads the table intones. "I am Dean Hio of Water. My fellows here are Dean Fyiara of Chaos," a feline on his left smiles prettily to Elise and waves, "Mage Whimver bar Boathe of Mind," A brown Eeee nods solemnly, "Dean Hyacinth of Spirit," a gray Jupani who likewise nods, "and Mage Mystico of Dream." The rabbit smiles, maybe a little nervously, at Elise in recognition.

"We are here to conduct an inquiry on Mage Envoy's current state. We were informed that you might have information of bearing on her … condition," Hio continues in his sonorous voice.

"I see. Very well then, I will join you honored mages at your table and present myself to your inquires?" asks Elise, looking to the head of the table.

"Yes. Have a seat." The mage gestures to a chair opposite the five, and to the left of the where the other mages are currently seated. "I must inform you now that the three Mind Mages present will be scanning your words and surface thoughts to determine the veracity of your statements. Do you have any objections?"

The Templar officer walks toward the chair and, after pulling it forth, inclines her head to Dean Hio. "No, however I must remind you as per my duty to the Ambassadoranything shared here or any magic used upon me will be furthered to him in the required reports," answers the lady. She then brushes her robes and cape aside, adjusts her sword, and takes a seat with her hands folded in her lap.

"Understood. Mages?" Viscoi, Cyprian, and Whimver approach her to cast their spells – Whimver and Viscoi take about ten minutes each, while Cyprian, curiously, only spends a minute or so. His face betrays no emotion as he works, then returns to his seat. None of the mages' spells look the same to Elise, rather bewilderingly.

Elise, for her part, remains more or less motionless for each of the spells. She does shift or glance around but for the most part remains quiet and calm, lest she provide a distraction. Given the spells are all directed toward her, being silent at least may help her to understand them in some minor way by listening as well, she hopes. "Your rituals are complete, then? If so, I am ready for your inquiries," the poodle says.

"If I may begin?" Hio says, and the mages all nod to him. "Lady Elise de Bellefeuille, I realize that you are a lay person and not familiar with the intricacies of our arts. I ask this of you, as a lay person: How would you describe Envoy's condition at the time you last saw her, and compare it to the occasions upon which you have encountered her previously?"

"Mage Envoy has undergone a shift in personality. Before, I found her moderately reserved, somewhat innocent in manner, calm and curious. I would venture to state that we are friends, and I found her company previous to welcome. I would not say she was unhappy, though I will admit to also finding her somewhat alien," replies Elise in response to the first part. She then takes a moment to sort her thoughts, brows narrowing thoughtfully. "The change in her personality is obvious to me. Now she seems to possessed of a happiness, a bliss, that she did not before possess. She seems inclined to flirt, with as far as I can tell anyone, something I have never before seen her do. She speaks of happiness and pleasure, and seems inclined to bring forth these things in others. However, she also appears haughty, where the previous Mage Envoy was humble. And she now firmly believes she is the Avatar of Inala – most certainly a new development, hinting perhaps at delusions of grandeur."

"Also," adds Elise, "she carries a glamour about her that she did not before. And from what little I have seen, she appears to possess magical abilities beyond her previous ken. She also appears to act less intelligent than before."

The water mage nods solemnly, while the feline from Chaos looks bored. She plays with the chain around her neck. The mage from mind asks, "Would you describe this – transformation – as something Mage Envoy was trying to achieve? In other words, did she want to change the way she behaved?"

"Oh, give me a break," Mage Hyacinth complains quietly, rolling his eyes at the Mind Mage's question.

A shake of the head from the Templar. "I would say she gave me no indication this is what she desired. I can say that a part of her was well against such things. I can also say that this did not appear to be the goal of Mage Envoy, but rather something she seems to have stumbled upon for all I am aware. However I must also say that never did I hear by her own words she was directly against such a thing from happening. It is only my observation of her that I speak of. Were I to use that alone, I would say she did not expect this, plan for this, or directly desire this before the transformation occurred," responds Elise at length.

"It's a legitimate question – many people consult with people of my profession because they want to change their own behavior," Whimver asides to Hyacinth after listening attentively to Elise's answer.

Whimver returns his full attention to Elise. "So you would not say that Envoy's original intention was to assist Inala?"

"I would not," answers Elise simply, and with conviction in her voice.

Fyiara studies the sharpness of one of her claws. "Yeah, I think that's just what she was not saying, Whim," the Chaos Dean says, loudly. "Is she lying or what?"

"She tells the truth," Cyprian avers, and Viscoi nods his assent, as well.

Whimver grumbles. "Ssrithiri told the truth, too, and he said that Envoy was trying to help Inala."

Fyiara claps her hands together in lackadaisical applause. "Look, more proof of the fallibility of (pick one) a) magic, b) people, c) all of the above. Next!"

Elise looks to Mage Whimver and nods to him. "She is, now," she tells him. "However, there may be an aspect of this you are unaware … "

"We didn't ask you a question," the water mage protests.

Fyiara cuffs him lightly. "Then we'd better. Elise, dear, do tell us anything you think we should know, mmm-kay?"

Elise inclines her head in apology to the head of the table. "Pardon my interruption, Dean. I meant only to assist," she tells him.

The Templar inclines her head to Mage Fyiara as well. "Very well then. I will need ask a question of all those who have encountered Envoy within what I will dub the 'Dream Realm'. What is the state you have encountered Envoy in?" she asks, looking around the room – mostly to Dean Ssrithiri.

"To clarify, what did she look like? Would you describe her actions as that of Mage Envoy previous, or Mage Envoy current? Or, something else?" adds Elise.

"The one time I met Envoy in the Dream Realm," Cyprian says, slowly, "She did not look like her real-world self at all. She looked like a golden, humanoid, dragon. She behaved … logically. Similar to the impression I had of her prior to the miracle. Very different from her now."

A nod, and the lady shifts her gaze to Mage Ssrithiri for his response, ears perked.

Mystico pipes up, "Same here – she looked like a dragon when she and Elise rescued me, and when I went in to rescue her."

Ssrithiri shifts his coils, looking a little uncomfortable as all eyes follow Elise's in watching him. "I neverencountered her dream-self prior to my investigation of her, after this latest incident."

He adds, "In my investigation, she appeared the same Exile she does now."

"And this is my point, Mages," says the noblewoman. She shifts her sword to the side, allowing her to sit up and lean forward slightly. "I have encountered Mage Envoy in no less than five forms within the 'Dream Realm' – that of the golden dragon that Mage Cyprian and Mage Mystico saw, that of a child version of herself, one of a strange gaunt and insatiably curious version, her form as you see her now, and a large black form that appears like a living shadow and appears male. I know Mage Envoy from these dreams more than waking life, and I tell you, they each seem to desire something different. It is like having five different people placed in one person. So when I say, a part of her found Inala distasteful, I am referring to one of these parts, that of the Dragon," Elise explains.

"She's schizophrenic?" Whimver squeaks.

A quirk from the poodle, and she reaches a hand up to her lips, eyes focused on the table as she attempts to explain. "Not … exactly, at least I do not think so. The versions of her were forced within the dream, represented by mirrors she would look in to in order to switch between her … her selves." The poodle runs her free hand through her hair, brushing it to the side. "It may be due to her alien mind, for all I am aware. I should also note that within a house of mirrors in the realm of Inala, one – namely myself – could look into similar mirrors and take on aspects of one's self. However Mage Envoy was able to bring this ability with her, and had the mirrors well before that dream. From the very start."

"Curious. And you believe only one of these – aspects – of herself would object to Inala?" Whimver asks.

"From what I observed, they each held different qualities of Mage Envoy. Aspects, if you will. The Dragon, cold and logical, objected to Inala. The Child, innocent and happy, found the realm of Inala interesting and amusing. The gaunt aspect seemed inclined to take in whatever it could get, and ask whatever question that came to mind, no matter how bizarre. The shadow man … I do not know of, as I only encountered this one briefly. Before I left Envoy she was in the form of the Child and had reached Paradise," answers the lady officer.

During all this, the water mage leaned to one side to whisper something to Mystico, who shrugged. Whimver tapped his fingers against his chin, while Hyacinth looked angry. Fyiara chewed at the tip of one her claws, looking bored again.

Elise looks between the mages assembled at the table before her, patiently waiting any commentary or questions that might come.

Mystico says, his voice soft beside the questions of the others, "Elise, do you think that Envoy, in her current state, can help us with the problems that we're having in the Dream Realm?"

Hyacinth makes a disgusted noise. "She's not even a mage, Mystico! What's she supposed to know about that?"

The dream mage counters, "She and Envoy saved me. That's a sight more than most mages can attest to."

" … I think that only disaster can come from furthering the will of Inala. Anyone remotely familiar with the Babelite Goddesses will tell you they are not to assist mortals, but to bring them to ruin. Paragons of what they represent, and amazing indeed in their ability within their'sphere', but I do not think they care. Nor do I believe an avatar of them would truly care. You may perhaps weaken the Dream Realm by furthering them and that may be a method of solving this … but I warn you, do not let Envoy as this Avatar have her way. She is the most pleasant of the possibilities," the Templar glances around the room, "but can you imagine the Avatar of Sunala? Blakat? I think Mage Envoy is dangerous. I do believe that she may hold some key to ending this problem, but you should not desire this key so much that you let her have her way in anything."

Fyiara makes a little mew noise and looks up from her hands. "So you think maybe we should leave her like this, and see what happens?" she purrs, curious.

A nod from Elise. "I believe you should keep careful watch on her, perhaps confine her in quarters that can contain the magicks she has shown. And be certain she cannot charm anyone into doing as she wills. I noticed several of the Watch easily swayed by her. I also believe you should attempt to determine if this change can be reversed. However, I have been given the idea that solving the paths of the Goddesses weakens the 'Dream Realm', so perhaps you may wish to pursue that. But bind and be ready for what manner of form wakes when the game is won," Elise suggests. She lowers her hands back into a folded position on her lap, and looks to the Dean of Chaos. "I recommend you do not worship her, awake, or asleep."

The feline purrs, looking briefly amused, then she returns her attention to the chain around her neck, toying with its links. Hio looks around the table at his fellow mages.

"Also, I would suggest you do not let news of this occurrence spread. It could cause considerable problems if news that an 'Avatar of Inala' had been created, replete with miracles," offers the poodle woman. She shifts her gaze from the Dean of Chaos, to the Dean of Water, then settles her gaze on the Spirit Mage at the table. Her ears perk and she inclines her head to him. "Have we … met? You seem familiar to me. Though, it is difficult to tell. Ah, but we have not met, have we?"

"There's no such thing as miracles," the water mage huffs. Fyiara rolls her eyes, then winks at Elise.

Hyacinth, meanwhile blinks and frowns at her, then shakes his head. "No, I don't think we've met before."

"Hm, no, that man had a … white right hand. Yes, quite unique," Elise tells the Jupani. A tilt of the head. "I do not suppose you would humor me and remove your gloves?"

The Jupani folds his hands together. "No, I would not," he says, stiffly.

"He's cranky like that," Fyiara stage-whispers to Elise, then says aloud, "Anyone else have any questions for our dear guest from Rephidim?"

Cyprian stands up. "I do."

The water mage frowns. "You're not on the panel," he blusters, and the Chaos Dean tosses her head back.

Lady de Bellefeuille raises her eyebrows in mild surprise and, after a moment, leans back. "I see," she says simply. Glancing between everyone present, waiting for further questions, until Mage Cyprian speaks up. She looks directly at him. "If the panel approves, I will answer."

"For pity's sake, Hio, loosen up. You should've been an Earth Mage. Yes, Cyprian, go ahead?" Fyiara waves to the bat.

"Why do you want to see Hyacinth's hand?" Cyprian asks Elise, locking her gaze with his own.

"I believe I have met this man before, Mage Cyprian. Gray fur, a long muzzle, and a white right hand, and most certainly a mage. Though I did not learn the name of the man who possessed these features, though I am almost certain he is here right now. And perhaps I shall learn his name finally," answers the lady, her own eyes watching Cyprian carefully.

"Why is it important to you that you identify him?" Cyprian asks, pushing the issue.

Viscoi says, "You're lying. You don't think you've met him at all. But you do think you'd … recognize … him." The Cervani sounds more baffled than angry.

Whimzer says, nervousness in his voice, "What does any of this have to do with Mage Envoy?"

Her gaze shifts from the Mind Mage to review Mage Hyacinth more carefully, as if sizing him up for something she is mentally reviewing. "You are most certainly right, I am lying. And you will learn exactly what this has to do with Mage Envoy. But to answer Mage Cyprian, and clarify a statement, yes … I do think I recognize him. And, as I am being reviewed for the truth, I say that the situation I know him from is quite grim indeed," she explains, her voice lowering slightly.

"I … yes, I imagine I could even venture so far as to tell you where he was five years ago. How would I know, never having been there? You will find I believe I know, and you will see I tell the truth in not having been there. Oh … and I know who was with him as well. I imagine you have records of the doings of your most esteemed mages, five years ago? Not that I will need them but they are important to what I will say … Also, " the lady poodle's blue eyes watch Mage Hyacinth for a moment longer as she pauses, then shift to look around the room at each person in turn, "I could tell you what they were doing." The probing eyes of the poodle, as if suddenly much the Inquisitrix, look directly at Mage Hyacinth. "If he is not already, I would request Mage Hyacinth be checked for lies. If you do not believe me to have reason to do so, I will gladly give it to you. But I think the Mind Mages present will assure you I believe I do."