Library of the Sphere of Fire
Unlike the libraries of most of the other schools on Caroban, the Library of Fire does not have comfortable velvet cushioned reading benches or richly stained wooden walls and decorative tapestries. Rather than grand windows, it has square skylights set into the cinderblock ceiling. The stacks are also made of cinderblock, with the manuscripts, scrolls and tombs protected behind sliding panes of thick glass. Even the furniture and reading stations are made of gray cinderblock, just to be safe. Buckets of water and sand are stacked at the end of every row and table as well, and magical alarm enchantments are scattered about to give warning of any fire magic building up or being carried about.

After the smoky decadence of the mushroom cave over at the School of Earth, the stark bleakness and austerity of the Fire Sphere's library is like a cold shower: very sobering. As such, few students ever actually study within the library itself, which means anyone seeking a bit of privacy can pretty much have the run of the place. The young keiltyn thus does not expect to be disturbed in his research.

Blinking blearily, the fox-mage rubs pauses to rub his eyes. I will miss these talks with Master Sharif, but I will not so much miss the hazy vision and urge to snack. He coughs once, to clear his head and his lungs, and then strides down the idles. "Let'ssee … ," he murmurs as he watches row after row of shelves pass him. "Now, where did I see that treatise by Veliquin the Luminous?"

While searching, the fox begins to realize he's not alone in the library. Someone is shadowing him through the stacks.

The fox mage doesn't break his stride, or even look back. Instead he flicks an ear and keeps searching. After a few more shelves, he pauses and runs a finger down the glass of the case next to him. Ah, yes. The Way of Heat. Standard, but useful, and in … Imperial … Gallisan? … Eeee … Ah, Standard. The case is opened, and the scroll retrieved. With the item tucked under his arm, the fox walks on. "I'm not available for private tutoring," she says as he walks, hoping that will ward off anyone following him.

"Errr," a soft voice says from around the corner of a stack. A brown-furred Lapi-head peeks around, and says, "Actually, I was… uh… asked to bring you a message, Mage Kessler… "

"Really," Mage Kessler says as he pauses to bend over and peer in to another case. "A message? Does Master Sharif need me so soon?" Like any proper bookish mage, he seems more interested in scrolls than living company.

"Umm, no, it's not from Master Sharif," the Lapi says. Coming around the corner, he can be seen to wear the robes and braid of an Apprentice. "It's Mage Envoy that would like to see you, if you're available."

"The Exile?" Mage Kessler leans back, blinking. His eyes look a little red. "How unexpected. Well, I suppose I shouldn't keep a fellow mage waiting." He pushes the case opening, nabs a scroll titled 'Primus Fire,' and tucks it under his arm. After straighting, he looks around as if lost of deep in thought. "Where would she be, exactly?"

"Well, it's after Choir Practice, so," the Lapi rubs his chin in thought. "Oh, right! She said to meet her at the Plaza of the Spheres, on the Earth campus. Do you know it?"

"I dare say I do," the mage replies. "Well, this will need to wait then. I'll find the other scrolls later … and that tome … Of course, I'll need a lens … " The mage frowns, staring intently over the Lapi's head, mumbling about reagents, locations, and other arcane things – and completely distracted by it.

---

Plaza of the Spheres
This plaza near the School of Earth's student gardens is relatively small, just a circular area that serves as a junction point for several major walkways. Stone planters squat around the circumference, holding small trees and flowering plants to make the air cool and pleasant smelling, with long wooden benches against their walls. Instead of a fountain, the plaza has a central patch of soil from which grows the Tree of All Spheres: a towering thing made from twelve different kinds of wood, all grafted and growing together. The canopy is a panoply of different branches and foliage. Each type of wood is meant to represent a different sphere, loosely based on color.

The Lapi comes along with Sam, until they reach the Tree of All Spheres, where Envoy waits. "Thank you, Xander," she tells the Lapi, who nods and dashes off. The plaza has a few clusters of people, all the green or brown robes of Earth with a few Water mages added in. Only the Aeolun wears an amber robe. "I'm glad you could come, Mage Kessler."

"I'm glad I could come too," Mage Kessler says, scratching his chin and staring off in to space. Now what was Master Sharif saying? He glances at Envoy, then inclines his head. No, it wasn't about attractive exiles … "What did you need to see me about, Mage Envoy?" Like Master Sharif, Mage Kessler wears Khattan Emirate-style robes, only his are red with yellow patches and black detail.

"Oh, I found your observations interesting, and wanted to see just how far you were willing to take them," the alien says, grinning as always. She gestures to the giant mixed-wood tree, and says, "You see connections between the Spheres that others do not. Can you look at this tree and figure out the secret it is relaying?"

The male mage's gaze focuses as he turns and looks up at the tree. After a surprised, "Agh!" as he catches the sun's light, he sheilds his eyes despite the glare being minimal at best. It is, perhaps, an irony that the mage who would conjure the sun's light is so sensitive to it. After a moment of looking, he replies, "The tree symbolizes the interwoveness of magic, that all Spheres form the same Whole." Another blink, and he leans forward and adds, "Also that 'Xander,' heart, 'Nalia.' Hmm."

"Well, actually, that's just what the tree is supposed to look like," Envoy explains. "Don't worry though, only Botanists have ever seen the hidden truth. The secret is that these twelve different kinds of trees, all from different parts of the world, are growing out of the same soil. The soil is where the magic is."

"Ahh," the mage breathes as he leans back. He continues to shade his eyes, despite no longer looking skywards. "So, you're saying every endeavor is rooted in a strong foundation, hence the meeting?"

"Actually, I'm trying to say that the magic isn't in the Spheres," Envoy notes. "I've seen the source of magic. The Spheres are completely arbitrary constructs that serve to hinder the accumulation of magical knowledge."

"You've seen … " Kessler blinks down at Mage Envoy, " … the source of magic?" The skepticism in his voice it exceeded only by the surprise, undoubtedly not the first time Mage Envoy has caused that reaction.

"Yes, it's how I gained my own ability to use magic," the Exile notes. "But that's really beside the point. You need to be careful as you expand your studies. Don't be surprised to suddenly find a lot of official resistance once you try to move into a third Sphere."

"Hmm," Mage Kessler murmurs thoughtfully, rubbing his chin again. "Well, I'm not one for politics. I'm afraid I'm rarely in Caroban as it is these days, what with our services being in high demand. Are you saying you have reason to believe Caroban will resist my attempts to bridge the Spheres?"

Envoy nods. "If you need a reason for it, just look over there," she says, pointing to a group green and brown-robed Earth Mages talking to some Water Mages. "The two halves of Earth, botany and mineralogy, along with Water, form the base of most of the Guild's regular income. Working together, they can check soil quality, local water tables, dig wells and prepare land for farming. Three mages are needed, since there are almost no Earth mages that practice both halves of the Sphere. Now, imagine if one mage, a wizard, focused on just those elements of each Sphere needed to perform that task. One mage, one-third of the fee. Caroban wasn't cheap to build, you know."

"And one mage to fight the wars, Light and Air and Fire. I see what you suggest, Mage Envoy. I would claim that the Collegia isn't half so mercenary, but how can I say such, as I am a mercenary?" The fox-mage laughs a little. "Master Shafir and I, how many wars has it been now? But, I digress. What you suggest is that we make our lives difficult, for the purpose of income?"

"The Guild is a business, the Collegia is… scholarly," Envoy says. "And there is the Temple and other governments as well. Nobody wants to see a Mage who can master several spheres. I've been told that in no uncertain terms when I've talked about learning all of the Spheres myself."

"The power a single mage would possess, if one knew ALL Spheres, would be formidable indeed." Samael finally lowers his hand, but continues to squint uncomfortably. "I suppose I can't blame them for being nervous. It is as you say, I'm sure: one mage could do much, and undermine the earnings of others. We are a business, yes, yes we are." Kessler closes his eyes, then shakes his head. "Also, to what purpose … A mage with that much power, what purpose would he or she serve? There would be influence, and ability, but what would be crafted from it all, I wonder?" The question doesn't seem directed at Envoy, rather, it sounds like the mage is thinking out loud.

"It is one of the reasons the Collegia and Guild are sanctioned to get rid of hedge wizards," Envoy says. "Look to the Necromancers of the last era. Individuals with too much power. The Collegia and Guild make it possible for Mages to live, by ensuring that none of them will become too big a threat. Otherwise, Mages would be ruling the world, wouldn't they?"

The other mage opens his eyes, looking down at Mage Envoy and nodding slowly. "Yes, yes, perhaps. Of course there is more to ruling than sheer power, or so I am told. Our powers are just tools, after all." He then side-steps, so that he's solidly under the shade of the great tree. "Of course, we lost so many in the last war. We are not so great, I think, Mage Envoy. It is perception that makes us seem great – you don't need magic for that."

"True," Envoy says, then reaches out to put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I just wanted to warn you. Be careful who you share your research with, and suspect that what you do reveal will draw attention that may not be positive. I'm lucky, I chose Earth – a double-headed Sphere. They don't watch me so closely anymore. Also, would you like to sign up for my choir group?"

"Well … thank you for the warning, Mage Envoy," Mage Kessler says, a bit taken aback. "But, I am but a humble dog of war. I am sure as long as my sword is theirs to wield, they won't mind how I sharpen it." Kessler smiles a little, although it looks a bit forced. His ears then skew as he considers the second question. "I do not sing," he says apologetically, "although I have tried to create an elemental that could do so."

"You should come and practice then," Envoy says. "It will do wonders for your concentration and casting speed. Especially under distracting circumstances."

"Well, no promises, but I'll see if I can come. Since you're also interested in my research, perhaps we can share notes? Having a mage outside of Light and Fire would be quite productive, I should think. I'm afraid my mastery of wood and earth stops at burning them."

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of the singing at least," Envoy says, smiling. "Why, when Xander started, he sounded like a metal clock being ground up by a flour press. And after just a year, he's managed to just sound like the metal clock without any oil."

"The timid Lapi apprentice? Ah, I would wonder how he could stand the crowds. Well, that shyness won't last a few conflicts, for better or worse." The fox-mage pats the top of his scimitar, which is so polished that the other mage may wonder if he's ever actually used it in a battle.

"I'm sure Master Sharif has a wonderful singing voice too," Envoy notes, then leans in to whisper, "Guys who can sing get all the girls, you know."

"Ah, then perhaps then his daughter would love me. Or not, for I am no prince," the mage says with a laugh. "Master Sharif, he can sing well, especially when he has been motivated. Now then, I'm sure I can combine these efforts, I'm much for interconnectedness after all. I shall conjure my great bird of the desert, and we shall sing, and all the Collegia shall marvel at us both. I will make him as the sun, with a voice of angels."

"I'm sure it will work," Envoy says, nodding. "Even though the only singing fox I've known had horrible horrible luck with women. And men too. And small animals. But he did have a very nice hat."

Samael's ears perk, and he tilts his head. "You knew a singing fox? A fox like me," he points at himself, "or some other sort of fox?"

Envoy holds her hand out at about chest height. "He was a bit small. And also an Exile. Could come up with a tune like you wouldn't believe though. Really, you wouldn't believe it. He was lead actor in the opera I was in some time back. Good at screaming."

Samael reaches up and scratches his nose, pursing his lips. "Ours is a poorly represented people, alas," he admits. "None the less, he sounds quite entertaining. Personally, I'm fond of the arts, myself. Master Sharif has been quite kind in opening my eyes to the many wonders of the Khattan Emirate. Have you ever been there, Mage Envoy?"

"Not yet," Envoy notes. "But I've been hearing that the Emir is looking for an Earth Mage, so I may yet get to see it. I'm the only active Amber Earth Mage on Caroban, so I think my chances are good."

"Ah, how lucky you are to be called on by the Emir!" Mage Kessler takes a seat beside Envoy, then places a hand on her shoulder while gesturing expansively with his other hand. "I am only ever called to fight the battles of its desert princes, its army conquests, and its defence operations! Once did Master Shafir and I go to war against a nomad tribe of some size, for he is a leader there, and must occasionally return to protect his people. There, you see, is the best use of magic!"

"Fighting?" Envoy asks. "I would think healing, or food production… even architecture… But really, is magic any better at killing people than arrows or bombs?"

The mage's hand pauses in the air, and he turns to look Mage Envoy square in the eyes. "Ah, now you are the one who misses the secret, yes?" He pulls his gesturing hand in, cupping it. "We cradle our loved ones with our magic, and fight for what we need. Some of it is glory, yes, and some of it is profit – but the best of it is in defense. The killing and the petty wars, not so much, you see?"

"I see. I also fight to protect those I care about," Envoy says, nodding. "I just don't like to kill."

"Killing is part of life, Mage Envoy. The trick is to know when it must be done, and when it should not. It is like the flame, or the tree:" Samael gestures to the three again, then towards its base. "The roots, they consume, yes? You and I, we too consume. The flame consumes, empires consumes, we all burn bright by the fuel we feed upon – but to what purpose? Ah, why the flame burns, that is what we should ask ourselves. Why does the fire burn. Mage Envoy," he looks back, smiling, "would you like to share a cup of mateh with me?"

"Certainly," Envoy says, smiling. "And I always thought that fire burned because of oxygen."

"Well, let us be off then. I will tell you how other things burn, and why. It is not a fair world, but there are joys in it." Mage Kessler stands up, then offers Mage Envoy his hand.

Envoy takes the offered hand, and says, "I think Master Sharif is starting to shed on you. Or is it 'rub off' on you?"

"Rub off is the term, and it is as it should be. There is much wisdom in the master to go around, and he shares freely. If ever you would question a fire mage on the art of war, form the prospective of a man who leads others, with much family, I urge you to seek Master Sharif," Mage Kessler replies. "He says to me, "life is short, burn bright.""