The door to the cell cycles open, revealing a white-furred Eeee with silver-grey hair, dressed in drab prison garb. She looks up from a mass-produced book titled "Better Living Through Magic", then smiles as she sees the visitor. "Envoy!" Wynona squeaks, "It's so good to see you again!"

The Aeolun smiles and carries in a small bag of Harvest Tide treats. "I'm glad to see you too, Wynona! Have they been letting you out to stretch your wings yet?"

The door slides shut behind Envoy, latching securely.

Wynona shakes her head. "No, I'm afraid not. Though they sort of hinted that something will be decided soon." She grimaces. "I have no real idea just what."

Envoy sits down and hands over the bag of goodies from Little Babel. "Have you heard about the High Prince, and the magical spies?"

Wynona absently takes the bag, then says, "I don't hear much of anything in here, truth be told. I'm not in contact with any other prisoners. They'll sometimes bring me reading material – and necessities, of course – but that's about it."

Nodding, Envoy says, "They didn't talk to me much when I was in here either. But the reason the investigation may be wrapping up soon is that Mage Qing traced back a spell to the Palace in Babel, and the High Prince was just murdered. Maybe they'll decide the whole thing was just part of an internal Babelite power struggle."

Wynona's eyes open wide, and her voice shifts up an octave, as she squeaks, "Murdered? Boghaz? But … but … why?" She looks hurt at the thought.

Wynona seems to have completely forgotten the bag of goodies in the meantime. (But once anything starts crawling out, that might get her attention again… )

"Because he was the High Prince," Envoy suggests, "and he tried to change the way things were done."

The Exile ponders for a moment, then says, "The Emperor-Potentate is the only ruler of a major power that hasn't been whacked yet. Do you think he's nervous about that, or looking forward to dealing with inexperienced leaders?"

Wynona furrows a brow. "'Whacked'? What exactly do you mean? And I can't say as I personally would want to deal with inexperienced leaders. They might do something brash."

Envoy says, "I suppose you're right. I meant 'assassinated', sorry." Then she asks, "Do you know much about Collegia Esoterica politics?"

Wynona shrugs. "Only a little. I haven't really gotten involved in it much myself. I do know that there is a certain rivalry between the major Colleges on the surface, and the College here in Rephidim – There are certain 'cultural differences' that sometimes translate into differences on moral issues of what can or can't be done with magic."

"Can you tell me anything about sponsorship?" Envoy asks next. "Like… well… what does a sponsor do, exactly?"

Wynona elaborates, "The Nagai are far more free in what they consider to be allowable in the realm of Necromancy, for instance. Here in Rephidim, for the most part it is shunned … though I've heard that the Spirit Mages here may use a bit of Necromancy from time to time … but they try to keep it quiet, I suppose. The Babelites are fairly contradictory on the matter, but for the most part they're very touchy about desecrating the dead, so Necromancy would be a no-no, so long as it involves the animation of dead bodies." She breaks out of her chatter to actually register Envoy's next question. "Oh! Sorry … I got on a train of thought there."

Wynona says, "Well … a sponsor? I never had a sponsor. It usually means that someone is paying your way through the College. Or else they're advocating your admission, or doing something else to help you along. Most of us are on our own, though."

Envoy blinks a few times in thought. "Aren't you going to eat your treats?" she asks while thinking.

Wynona blinks. "Oh! You got me treats?" She quickly grabs one of the little crawlers that is trying to make good its escape (not like it can get much further out of here than Wynona can). She daintily nibbles on it. "Mmmm! Spicy!"

Grinning, Envoy says, "Thought you'd like that, after the usual Temple food. I can't wait until you get out, so I can show you the room they gave me at the Earth Dorm. It's a penthouse! Then you can tell me if I should be worried about having a secret sponsor or not."

Wynona eagerly munches on the snacks like she's starving (though she doesn't look emaciated). Momentarily forgetting her manners, she says in between bites, "Shecret shponshor? Wha dosh dat mean?"

"Mostly it means that nobody will tell me who it is," Envoy says. "But it has to be someone that knows an awful lot about me, even down to the size and cut of my robe. And even that I like amber. The only person I know of that might know all those details would be Dean Malthus of the Sphere of Mind, and he hates me."

Wynona ponders. "Would the Temple know anything about that information?"

Envoy hmms. "Well, I suppose so. At least about my dimensions. But they never asked much about my personal preferences towards living accomodations. But why keep it a secret? Mage Iona made it sound like it was someone she knew – that is, someone connected with the Collegia."

Wynona says, "Well, I wouldn't have any theories then. Is it important? Nobody's asked anything of you unusual, have they? And it's not like this is anything you asked for, right? If someone tries to make it sound like you owe, then you can back out, I suppose. I don't think the College would stand for someone abusing a student by 'supporting' them and then taking advantage. Or … I sure hope not!"

Envoy nods. "I just worry about it being something political. Maybe sponsoring me to annoy someone else, for example. I've been warned to stay away from the School of Mind already."

Wynona frowns. "Well … that doesn't sound all that far-fetched. If it bothers you that much, I suppose you could simply refuse whatever perquisites you've gotten from this 'sponsor', and demand that you know who he or she is – or they are, even."

The Aeolun looks at her knees for a bit before answering. "What if the sponsorship is the only reason I was accepted, though? Can the dean of another school force out a student that's enrolled with a different one?"

Wynona shakes her head. "No one dean could do that. There's enough rivalry between the Spheres, that allowing that would risk deans sniping at each other by dismissing each others' star pupils. Not that I seriously think that's going to happen. But they have a council to handle such matters. Once you're inducted, getting expelled isn't a casual matter."

Wynona says, "After all, that's what the Guild is for. Job security."

Envoy looks Wynona in the eyes, and asks, "But aren't these the same people that had you held here for suspicion just because they didn't want you around?"

Wynona slumps. "Well … you have to understand … I earned that. I'm 'Wrong Way', remember? A laughingstock of the Sphere of Air. Do you know how much one of my mistakes can cost? Well, I don't know, either, but it's a lot. I mean … I've done a few noteworthy things since then, but I haven't exactly exonerated myself."

"That's no reason to punish you, though!" Envoy says. "I've gotten into trouble before as well, what with undead sorceresses and dead mages and Temple conspiracies and all, but they don't make me wear a big sign or anything. Having you put in jail is a bit beyond chiding. It could affect your career more than any of the mistakes you've made."

Wynona rests her chin in her hands. "Well … yes. I'm not exactly pleased about all of this. If nothing else, I'm not exactly earning money by cooling my wings here."

Just then, there's a chime at the door.

Wynona sits up. "Oh! That's the 'I'm about to open the door, so make sure you're decent' sound." She hurriedly stuffs a few more bugs in her mouth and chews furiously.

Envoy blinks. "Were you expecting anyone?"

Wynona shakes her head in the negative.

The door cycles open. "Mage Wynona?" barks a guard. "We've got some good news for you. Looks like you get to go."

Wynona smiles! She looks to Envoy. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Envoy blinks again. "I don't think so. I mean… the Temple never seemed to really suspect you in the first place. It was just going along to keep the Collegia satisfied."

"But they should be bringing you your clothes soon," Envoy says, smiling. "I can wait for you outside, and then we can go celebrate if you like."

The guard adds, "Oh yes, and there are some messages for you. You'll be given those when you check out."

Wynona nods, and gathers up her books. It looks like they didn't bother to stick her in manacles, so she's able to walk freely out the door. "Just lead the way," she squeaks, in much higher spirits now.

Envoy follows along, glad that her friend is finally free again.

A while later, past a little bit of bureaucracy and changing into "civilian" clothes again, Wynona is out in front of the Temple again, opening up a message pouch. "Hmm. This has a rather fancy seal on it."

"Maybe it's a voucher for the income you lost while being stuck in the Temple?" Envoy says, hopefully.

Wynona says, "No, I already got that. It wasn't much, but … Ohhhh!" She drops everything but the letter in her distraction. "It's … oh my. It's from Saraizadze!"

Envoy kneels down to pick up the dropped messages. "Good news?"

Wynona unfolds the letter further. "It seems that she's now the 'High Princess'. And she's … she's offering me a job!"

The bat's jaw drops.

Envoy looks up at Wynona. "Umm… what sort of job? Babel can't be very safe at the moment… "

Wynona says, "She wants me in her court! As a personal mage! She wants someone she can trust. That … that would make me a Royal Mage! This … this is unbelievable! I mean … surely you have no idea just how … how outrageous this is! I … I feel like I should be swooning or something like that." She pinches herself. "Ouch."

Envoy stands up and frowns. "Wynona, the dragon in me says this is a bad idea. Your detractors will see this as proof of collusion between you and the Princess, with this being the reward promised to you for sabotaging Zahirinee's pool."

Wynona blinks, and her smile quickly fades. "You … oh dear. You've … " Her wings slump. "Ow. You're right." She lets out a long and dejected breath.

"The offer doesn't make any sense either," Envoy points out. "Like you said, it's outrageous. The Princess must know that you wouldn't last in that sort of political environment. They'd eat you alive."

"More likely, they want you as a hostage to keep Cryona quiet," the Exile suggests, frowning.

Wynona looks to Envoy. "But … a hostage? But this is Saraizadze. I mean … we were both on Paradys together. We're friends! I mean … not close friends, of course … but … I can't see how … "

Envoy says, "You don't really know it's from Saraizadze. There certainly hasn't been any official announcement about her taking over."

"And as Boghaz's successor," Envoy adds, "She's the number one suspect for having him assassinated. Remember Cryona… nobody may be who they seem anymore in Babel."

Wynona slumps. "This is getting scary. I'm wondering if maybe I was safer inside the Temple." She glances back to the Temple as she gathers up her belongings. "Or maybe on Fortunatis."

"Fortunatis has its own scary temptations," Envoy says. "We should go to the School of Spirit and make sure you don't have a spy attached to you. They even had one following me around in case I led them to Cryona."

Wynona nods quietly. "That sounds like a good idea."

Envoy thinks a moment and adds, "Better have the letter tested too."

In the austere, dreamy surroundings of the School of Spirit, Envoy and Wynona wait in an unnecessarily large lobby to the Dean's office. None of Wynona's Spirit Mage contacts seemed to be available.

A bored-looking Eeee receptionist files her nails, sitting at a desk in the middle of the room.

"I wonder where everyone is?" Envoy asks in a hushed voice. "Maybe preparing some sort of ritual?"

Wynona shifts around in her chair restlessly. "I don't know," she whispers back squeakily.

After an annoying pause, the door to the Dean's office creaks open. A corvid beak pokes out. "Is there anyone else?" he caws.

The Eeee receptionist looks up from her nail-filing to glance in the direction of the bat and alien. "Yes. Two for an exorcism."

Envoy jumps up, "Exorcism?"

The dean caws, "Exorcism? I don't do exorcisms! I'm the Dean, for … *caw*!"

"I crave your pardon, Dean," Envoy says quickly. "This is Wynona Windcaller, one of those possibly… having the same situation I did not long ago." She hopes the Dean knows what she's talking about.

Wynona curtseys. "Yes, Dean Faust. I'm terribly sorry to trouble you … but everyone seems to be unavailable at the moment."

The crow gives an annoyed look to each of the visitors. "I'd recommend Mage Qing, but it seems he has taken an extended leave of absence. Come in, come in … we'll make it quick. *caw*!" He waddles back into the room, leaving the door cracked open.

Envoy holds the door open for Wynona, smiling with relief.

The Dean sits on a perch behind his desk, shuffling around a few papers, and grabbing up some candles in a wingclaw and tossing them to the floor. He then flutters down and begins arranging them around a circle carved into the tile floor. "All right. You know the routine. Please be seated, Mage Wynona."

Wynona sits down in the center of the circle, trying to hide her nervousness … and failing.

Envoy smiles helpfully. "Don't worry, Wynona. it can't be any worse than a Diagnosticism."

Wynona shudders.

The Dean sets up several colored stones and candles, and pours colored chalks along grooves set in the floor, caw-chanting to himself as he does so.

The Aeolun is careful to watch every action, wondering just how necessary the material components are to the success of the ritual, or if they're just for enhancing the Mage's concentration.

The ritual progresses, taking a very long time – hours, most likely. Just when Wynona is on the verge of falling asleep, though, the crow claps his wing-claws together. "There," he caws. "It is finished. I know this is not terribly exciting … but there was nothing to be dispelled. You are 'clean'." He sighs in disgust, and starts cleaning up.

"Even the letter she received from Babel?" Envoy asks.

"Not a thing on it," says the Dean. "Just a bit of silver in the ink to try to thwart scrying on the contents."

Envoy makes a bow towards the Korv, "Thank you for your expertise, Dean Faust, and I apologize for the interruption of your schedule."

Wynona gets up, then bows as well. "Yes. I'm terribly sorry. I wish I could explain … but that would just waste more of your time. We'll be leaving now. And I'm very grateful. This is quite a relief." She carefully makes her way out of the room.

Envoy hurries after the Eeee. "Are most deans grouchy?" she whispers to Wynona.

Wynona ponders this for a moment, but doesn't answer until they're out of the receptionist's area. Then, in a whispered voice, she squeaks, "Yes."

Back in Envoy's dorm room (or penthouse, depending on how one looks at it), Wynona sits by the pool in the center of the chamber, occasionally gawking at the surroundings. "I … never had a room this nice. I don't think I could afford to rent one!"

A couple of silhouettes appear just outside the amber door – Summer Forrest (the Cervani) and Spring-Meadow (the Lapi). They have Rockjaw (the Jupani) with them.

"See why I was worried?" Envoy says, then notices the shadows. "Oh, that must be Summer and Spring and their friends." She goes over to slide the door open.

"Hello!" Spring-Meadow and Summer say in unison. "Mind if we come in?" Summer asks. Rockjaw just stands there, looking uncomfortable.

Envoy smiles! "Come right in. I was just about to get some juice for my friend Wynona."

Wynona gasps, "You have a juice dispenser here? I'm so jealous!" She giggles despite herself.

"Oh, I keep it in a pitcher actually," Envoy says.

Summer and Spring-Meadow shuffle in, quickly saying their hellos to Wynona, and they set down their bundles – bread, as usual, along with some cookies. Summer counts the cookies, then furrows her brow and counts them again. She gives Rockjaw a suspicious glance. He tries to look innocent.

Envoy brings out cups (cheap ones) and some almost-fresh juice courtesy of the balcony garden. "You must be Rockjaw, the Stone Mage apprentice?" she says to the Jupani. "I hope the ceiling isn't too low for you."

Rockjaw smiles at the compliment. Despite his best effort to restrain it, his tail wags slightly.

Spring-Meadow unfolds some cloths and sets things out on a "natural" table in the main room. "By the by, I think that robe is really nice. And you keep this place so clean! You put us to shame… "

Envoy sets out the refreshments, and blinks. "Clean?"

Summer leans over to whisper, "You don't have dirty clothes lying around. I keep getting on to her about that – OW!"

Spring-Meadow tries to look innocent. "Oh! Sorry! However did my elbow did over there?"

Envoy ohs, and giggles. "I don't have many clothes. I haven't cleaned my ball dress yet, though. I wore it for a Harvest Tide party at a friend's castle."

"A CASTLE?" all three of them (even Rockjaw) echo in unison. Wynona smiles, hiding her mouth in a cup of juice.

Turning to Wynona, Envoy says, "You remember Jynx, don't you Wynona? He's a Count now, down in Sylvania."

Wynona's eyes go wide this time, but she avoids doing anything unladylike with her juice. She sets down her cup, coughing, and wipes her mouth. "Jynx?! Really?"

Envoy nods! "He even fought off an army, and vampires, and all sorts of monsters. He still slouches though. His sister Eve is the Duchess, and is going to build a railroad through Sylvania. It turns out his great-grandfather was a powerful Earth Mage, and the whole castle is practically built on magic."

Wynona boggles. "That's … extraordinary. I had no idea… "

Envoy grins and winks at the doe and bunny. "And he's not much older than you two, either."

The Lapi's ears perk up. "Is he … " Then she claps a paw over her mouth.

Rockjaw rolls his eyes.

Wynona says, "I'd heard he was a hero, at least. His sister made a play about him."

"I wish I'd gotten to see it," Envoy says. "He had the foppy fox bard playing there too, only there were magic harps doing the singing, so it was pretty pleasant."

Wynona covers her mouth, giggling this time. "You didn't say that to the fox, now did you? And I never did catch his name."

"Whenever I mention his name… or rather, the name I remember him having… he panics and hides," Envoy says. "Did you know he was my leading man when I played Chi Marie?"

Wynona says, "That was the same fox? My. How did he ever get the part?"

"He had his own costume, I think," Envoy says, "and he can sing loudly. Projection is important in opera." Sipping her juice, she turns to Rockjaw. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to monopolize the conversation. Tell us about yourself, Rockjaw."

Rockjaw looks quite surprised, and he shrinks down just a little. "Uh … uh … I … uh … I'm a Stone Mage. Apprentice, I mean. Stone Apprentice. Part of Earth. But … with stones. I mean. Magic."

Envoy asks, "What's your favorite spell so far?"

Rockjaw smiles, then barks, "Quake!"

Summer shakes her head. "He probably just wants to become a Journeyman, so he can play Net-Quake with the other Stone Mages. Good thing they only let them do that down on the surface, or Rephidim wouldn't last long."

Rockjaw frowns, and his ears droop. "Not true. I also like 'Mold'. And 'Gemlight'." His ears perk up, and his tail wags. "I know you like 'Gemlight'!" he says to Summer.

The Aeolun blinks three times in surprise. "There is a game played with … earthquakes?" To Wynona, she asks, "Do air mages have games like that too?"

"I'd like to try Gemlight on my horn sometime," Envoy muses. "As long as there weren't any Vartans around, at least."

Wynona sighs. "Ours aren't as … exciting. 'Airball' and 'Fly the Creen'. That sort of thing. Just pushing things around with well-aimed gusts of wind. Or, more often, badly aimed gusts of wind."

Summer leans over, whispering, "They're just localized quakes. Don't worry!"

Rockjaw says, "Aw, Vartans don't go ga-ga over glowy things. Only shiny things. It's different. Otherwise, they'd just stare at the sun all day."

Envoy giggles, and asks, "What about kite wars, where you try to knock down the others with your own kite?"

Wynona nods. "Oh yes … They do that in the Nagai Empire, without having to use magic."

"What do you girls play that uses Nature Magic?" Envoy asks Summer and Spring. "Probably something like… oh… hypersea racing?"

Summer sticks her tongue out, then says, "Some boys like to play mudlump racing. Ewwww. But a lot of times, we just have flower races and beauty contests."

Spring-Meadow adds, "Beauty contests for flowers, of course!"

Envoy blinks, "You can race flowers?"

Summer clarifies, "You can race at growing them."

Spring-Meadow says, "You know … make them sprout faster. Grow faster. It's harder than just chanting, because you have to make sure you provide enough nutrients for them, and keep them happy."

Rockjaw says, "I'm no good at that. I just do rocks."

"Ohhhh," Envoy says. "But Rockjaw, didn't you know that plants can grow from rocks? You could still enter by making your rocks produce the nutrients needed for the flower to grow. It would be a team sport then."

Rockjaw brightens. "Oh?" His tail wags.

Summer says, "Wow. That's a great idea. We could put together teams and … give ourselves team names!"

Envoy says, "If there's a good old-growth forest nearby, we can have team hypersea races too! Each player finds a tree the same distance from a central pond, with each team having vials of a non-mixing colored liquid, one color per team. You pour the liquid over the tree roots, and the first team that gets their color to travel the fungal root network to the pond wins."

Summer, Spring-Meadow and Rockjaw make various expressions to the effect of "Cool!"

Wynona smiles. "That sounds interesting. Can you see the liquid move?"

Envoy thinks. "Well, a soil mage might be able to. It's all underground, and the network is usually fine as hairs. You need to urge the network to pump it where you want."

Envoy says, "If you know where the pools are, and get good at it, you can use the network to send messages and stuff over large distances."

This gets another chorus of "wows".

Wynona smirks. "I think by the time you graduate, the School of Earth isn't going to be quite the same, Envoy."

Envoy blinks, "Oh, for the better I hope. I won't try to raise an army of carrot-men until afterwards."

The Exile giggles.

Wynona eeks! The earth (and rock) mages laugh along, though.

"And I'll see if Sinai can support some silicon-based pseudo biotics too," Envoy promises. "Then the stone mages can grow flowers too, of a sort. They'd just be made of living glass."

Wynona finishes up her cup of juice. "Say … I have an idea … in order to celebrate my freedom – and lack of criminality – what say that I use some of my compensation from the Temple to treat everyone to dinner?"

Wynona says, "I've heard of this great place called 'Zsofi's'. It's supposed to have really unusual atmosphere."

"I knew I liked you for some reason, Wynona," Envoy giggles. "Hey, I know of an Exile named Zsofi… "