Blood and Honey.

"A gift for a Queen."

She moved amongst the clocks considering her choices as varied as the chosen recipients. She needed one that fit the avaricious personality of the Vampiress. Inner workings coated in blood. The drip of insanity twined with the hunger of the mad.

The Mistress of Shade and Shard studied the pinkly hued clock that apparently did not work. This, this would be the gift for the Vampiress who greeted the arrival of the Institute with her own gratuities.

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To one who stands outside the crushing power of Time, I gift you with this marker of passing, an instrument of blood and fascination. Your acknowledgment and reception of the Institute is to be recognized and rewarded.

With sincerest awareness
The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle,
Satariel Shah.

The glass casket held within an oaken reservoir that housed a grotesque surprise was hand delivered by four burly dockworkers impressed with the importance of their task. Hired for their fortitude-laced base behavior and controlled through fear.

Upon arrival at the Estate of one, Moira Samovila, the gentlemen who unloaded it quite suddenly turned on one of their companions. The explosion of violence erupting with the savage intensity created by the desire of survival. With brutality and vicious physicality they would be successful in their subdual of the youngest of their quartet. Quickly and efficiently shoving him inside the box within a box.

The lid held a motley assortment of gears and shafts and as it was brought across and closed with a latch, the wooden box would shift to reveal the needled probes that shot forth to pierce the soft flesh of the captive. The glass stained crimson within seconds as he was violated by the strangely technological creation. Slowly the gears cranked and turned, whirled and stirred to life as the clock that ran upon blood was fueled.

As the casket washed with pink the poem inscribed atop it became clear:


Time Long Past, (Percy Bysshe Shelley)

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past.

There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last--
That Time long past.

There is regret, almost remorse,
For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's belov?d corpse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
From Time long past.

Lyrical Authority

The steady clicking thrum of the clocks stole her attention from the Shades. She stood, unmoving, head tilted slightly at an angle. No breath stirred her breast. No pulse flickered beneath her skin. No flutter of her lashes protected her reflective eyes from the dry dusty air. She was immovable. An artifact much like her clocks. Something to be admired, studied perhaps, or overlooked. Despite the implacable exhibit of her lack of mortality, her mind continued to function at the pace of the savant. Drifting over the myriad schemes and plans of the Shaitan.

Government. Whether elected or inherited, heralded or conquered, those who took on a position of power opened themselves up to a wealth of interactions both benevolent and sinister. Manipulated or manipulative, coerced or concerned, such intrigues became intertwined with authority. The marriage of good intentions to malevolent outcomes seemed to balance quite evenly with dictatorial instincts braided with beneficial conclusions.

This Governor of RhyDin apparently wore his newfound status with all the comfort of an untailored suit. It seemed an uncomfortable fit that distracted and annoyed while it hung heavily about his shoulders. His first order of business had been to surround himself with other targets, for the true cloak of a position of power came with a bull's-eye squarely inscribed upon one's back. Now the power, the recognition, and most assuredly the blame could be evenly divvied up amongst the participants. More players only added to the game.

A game she was adept at playing.

Satariel hesitated in her summoning of the Sierene as the list of the Ministers appeared before her. No, there seemed to be a loose end dangling amongst the tapestry and the potential for mismanagement loomed. She needed to focus the Sovereignty on the playground of the powerful. She'd leave the office-spaces for another to infiltrate and decipher.

What tribute to pay? The faces of the clocks surrounded her and she spent time in her consideration.

What did she know about this Governor?

From his appearances at the Beltane Festival and the Gubernatorial run he was well-connected, well-dressed, manipulatively aware of what strings to strum as seen by his commercials, the natural charisma and charm of a performer and managed to weather a reputation of a born again reprobate: drunk, man-handling and obligatory bed-hopping.

Most importantly however was his proclamation, "I have no plans of enforcing any laws in which the people are not in full majority support of themselves."

At first glance, misguided. A secondary look reveals the implications of a majority swayed by such a charismatic ruler.

And therein, she found her answer, alighting upon the perfect tribute for his Governorship.

It would be delivered to his new offices in the morning with this note:
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Governor Driscol,

A token of our appreciation of your leadership and vision. May your Time as Governor be both lyrical and memorable.
With sincerest regards,

The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle,
Satariel Shah

?Let us see what the day, shall bring us, eh??


As it happened to pass, as with any other day, Brian himself, was present within the office of Public Works (Temporary mind you, as he is working on establishing, a true home for the unsung heroes, that are the Public Works, officials), as the delivery had arrived. Even surrounded by paperwork, in his own office, with the door somewhat closed, he heard the twins, cry out as one, in alarm.

?HALT! Who goes there!? State your business! Who?AUGH, he?s ARMED!?

Brian sprang to his feet, as he reached for ?Pulgasari?, the sheathed katana reacting to it?s master, as the twins came barreling through the door. Quickly, the little Ravenlocks, scrambled behind the desk, as their father bolted into the reception area, the sword drawn on instinct alone. The girls, emerged from their cover, one armed with a bow, the other, a chakram, seemingly ready to back their father, yet in reality were scared as all get out.

What followed, was a bit of chaos, as words were exchanged. Miss Westbury, could be heard yelling, coupled with the delivery staff. The armed guard, and Brian as well, could be heard facing off, as well, as others, who had arrived, namely, Kerrithra Al?Tuatha (aka Kerri, the self proclaimed queen of Mithra Mayhem), and Henrietta. After a few moments, which felt like a lifetime to the girls, Brian entered the office, and his expression was one of, ?It?s on?..

The Katana set upon the desk, as he eyed the twins, addressing them, ?Both of you, put down the weapons, and get yourselves, in that reception room now..?

That look.. The twins knew it.. It was the same look , that their mother, had sometimes given them, and more so, it was a look that screamed ?Get your arses moving now, before someone?s foot finds your arse..?, among other things. In other words, they said nothing what so ever, quickly disarmed themselves, and more so made for the reception room, where they rightly apologized to the delivery staff, and guard.

Rejoining them, Brian eyed the girls, with a somewhat frown, as the pair apologized yet again, and again. Shaking his head, Brian sent the girls off with Kerri, and Henri, as he himself, offered an apology, and assured there would be no repeats. Miss Westbury resumed her duties, as Brian continued to speak with the delivery staff, and guard, offering them some refreshments, as well.

The delivered crates opened carefully, as the delivery person waited. After a quick inspection, Brian rightly tipped, the man and his assistant, as well as the guard for their time, and effort, and again made sure to apologize for the girls. That said and done, the men, and guard, made their way out, as Brian continued to work on the larger of the two crates. After a bit of time, and the following clean up, the end result was astonishing.

?My goodness?, was basically all he Brian could say, as he his eyes panned over the three wondrous works, in front of them. The letter that accompanied, was read..

Brian Ravenlock, Minister of Citizen Resources,

Welcome to your position as Minister. I hope that this gift represents our appreciation of your appointment. We here at the Institute of Arcane Principle look forward to your future guidance and support. The Governor has impressed upon us his wish for us to have a meeting to establish our mutually beneficial relationship.

Please let me know what day and time works best for a man of your busy stature.

With sincerest regards,
The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle
Satariel Shah


The letter re-read once more, as he smiled faintly.. Setting it down, he moved towards the larger of the clocks, his eyes panning over the work of art, rather carefully, as he spoke softly aloud, ?This is amazing.. Simply, amazing..?

Softly did his fingers trace the aged wood.. Eyes closed, a moment, as he commited various grooves, and carvings to memory.. Such a familiar nature indeed, yet he knew, this was in fact the first time, he had seen, let alone felt this particular piece of art.. Granted it was a clock, and any who saw it would agree, yet Brian, would be the first to correct such a notion.. This was in fact a work of art. The elegance, and craftsmanship blended amazingly with the stoic presence.. The oaken strength called out to him, as he nodded in reply.. Oh yes, an experience, that he was sure, not many have shared. Soon his eyes opened, as he looked over the work of art, in a rather knowing manner.

?This will be placed in my office, and those two incredible pieces, with Aleyah, and Nathressa?s desks?, said Brian, as he smiled to Miss Westbury.

The lady nodded, as some interns arrived to assist with the largest of the clocks, as they began to move it into the office. While they did this, Brian looked over the pair of clocks, that were left for his daughters. He smiled once more, appreciating the wonder that was the pair of works, as well. He knew full well, the girls would absolutely love these gifts, when they arrived later.

Looking to Miss Westbury, he asked, ?So have you heard of this, Institute of Arcane Principle, or it?s Deaconess??

The lady shook heard head, a somewhat shrug offered in kind, ?No I have not, actually, but I can see you are intrigued, Raven. So shall I have this looked into??

Brian smiled, as he shook his head, softly. Looking to Miss Westbury, he replied, ?No.. No need to, dear. I think, that no written reply, will ever do, in this instance. I believe, a visit is in order, to assure first hand, that she understands, how much this is appreciated.?

?She may not be present, Raven,? countered the lady.

Brian smiled, and nodded to her logic, ?True, but at the very least, she will know I replied in person, and then we can make that appointment as well. Truth be told, I believe she may be there, and if she knows anything of me, she knows, I will more than likely decide to visit, straight away. After all, can I do any less??

?So no political motions??, asked Miss Westbury.

?No.. I feel the wheels are turning, and truth be told, I am intrigued. If anything, I spent, an afternoon out and about. Yanno??

?Very well, I shall ready the coach.?

?No need to, I will take care of this personally, and make my way. I can do no less, for such an effort on their part.?

That said, Brian smiled and gathered his things, as then left his office, to wherever this would take him.

?So let us see, where this day takes us, eh??

Academic Enthusiasm and Magical Appreciation

A Minister of Magic demanded the attention of the Institute of Arcane Principle. A self-proclaimed ?student of academic culture? would surely appreciate a school devoted to the honing of one?s magical talents. In fact, a relationship should be sponsored as an act of reputation building. Soon it would be time to hold a banquet in honor of the incoming students and to introduce the new faculty members and what better guest speaker than the government appointed Minister of all things Magic?

Satariel turned a measuring eye upon her clock collection. There were many available options that operated on arcane talents alone but she had been made aware of the young man?s debut performance and this media clip she reviewed for clues to his persona. Youthful exuberance, a clearly designated sense of right and wrong, a willingness to place himself in danger and to step up to a position of authority to do the ?right thing.? No, some of the darker arcana at her fingertips need not be considered.

She eyed the vision before her yet again. Silas Greyshott. His displaced boyishness and clearly befuddled sense of his current surroundings reminded her of an odd mix of a puppy and a dragon. The lack of consistent attention was not a testament to his intelligence but instead a revelation of the rapid-fire intellect at work. He was most assuredly working his way through a multitude of theories and experiments at any given time.

The governor had placed him in charge of magical anomalies and he appeared to have a vested interest in the Denubae that had been problematic in recent weeks. A brief thought given to the creature Vesper had recently managed to capture and the lone survivor of a Denubae attack that had been summoned for interviewing. The students of the Institute had already been limited as to their travels and their participation in the magical dueling arenas put on hold as the magic-eaters rampaged. It would be wisest to commune with this young man to determine what other cautionary and exploratory decisions remained to be made.

There were many things to consider and as the tapestry unfolded before her, Satariel made her decision, the floating orb drifting near as she whispered an arcane word. Magically invested air spun and stirred as the orb descended, the flash of her reflection held inside the bubble.
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A mischievous air elemental inhabited the crystalline sphere and hued it a rich flesh tone, the golden numbers held in immovable stasis. She?d need something to place it in as without it the ?clock? had a tendency to wander indiscriminately.

The box discovered she placed the object gently inside it. A whispered caress of her fingers across the smooth surface as she made her farewells.

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Parchment readied she chose her words carefully:

Silas Greyshott, Minister of Magic,

We at the Institute of Arcane Principle would like to extend our welcome to your new post. We are certain that one of your background would easily appreciate an academic setting devoted to magic. With you in office we hope that issues such as the Denubae attacks and other acts of magical violence will be dealt with expediently and successfully.

We recently acquired a Magic-eater and are in the process of examining it. Any support, interest, or advice would be well-received.

Please accept this token of our appreciation as it measures your time in office and the successful endeavors your appointment promises.

We look forward to working with you in the future.

With sincerest regards,
The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle
Satariel Shah

She had not been in attendance when the good lord Ravenlock had stopped by; a situation that bore remediance.

A special visit would most assuredly be arranged to escort him about the Institute's grounds. A tour was indeed necessary.

The arrival of the cream coloured envelope had hastened her need to see to the rest of her plans. Minister Starblades' polite response receiving its very own place of honor with the other ones.

Agricultural Logistics and Calculated Growth

She had already chosen the next of her recipients, the Minister of Agriculture, to be welcomed into office.

The clock itself had been harder to choose. The woman was a challenge. Her position appeared to be based more upon her logistical nature than that of an agricultural one. No doubt she would do well in her position, but it was not through a love of Greenery that she would excel.

Review of the speeches drew Satariel's attention to a telltale hint. A war wound? The Governor's own introductory speech spoke of Merriam Ksyshravor's past--if only hinted. A decorated war veteran came with a past and most likely a past haunted by the dirtiness of war.


It was this that led Satariel to choose:

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The trickle of water was soothing, a washing away of sins, as the clock steadily thrummed beneath the energy created. It stood as a rock hard sentinel to the passage of time. An edifice that hinted of the erosion of water and time while refusing to bow under the pressure. A reflection of the new Minister of Agriculture.


Parchment readied she chose her words carefully:

Merriam Ksyhsravor, Minister of Agriculture

We at the Institute of Arcane Principle would like to extend our welcome to your new post. We are blessed with a large preserve inside the Southern Glen that is home to our school grounds. The potential held in the lands of RhyDin is vast and will assuredly reach its fullness under your apt guidance.

Please accept our token of appreciation for your diligence in your new position.

With sincerest regards,

The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle
Satariel Shah

Scientific Archmage

As was usual when dealing with time constraints, Satariel discovered that the Governor's reign was soon to be reassessed. She'd almost managed to send a gift to every Minister and extend the hand of diplomacy. The remaining two drew equal parts consternation but for very different reasons. She found science to be an unnerving magic she could not quite grasp. In fact, the mechanics of many of her clocks surpassed her understanding.

Standing before the scrying device she replayed the speech of the Governor as she considered the bespectacled scientist. There was something quite fascinating and appealing to the idea of a catalogue existing for misunderstood species. Such information could prove most beneficial.

Recognizing her delay for what it was, she selected a clock that had proven the most disconcerting and had it packaged for delivery to the Governor's offices.


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Drake Valkonan, Minister of Science and Technology:

We at the Institute of Arcane Principle would like to extend our welcome to your post. We apologize for the lateness of our acknowledgment as progression on the school has taken most of our attention. With your experiences and background it is satisfying to know that the Realm of RhyDin has one of your expertise to oversee such diverse growth. Should you find yourself in need of a student to assist you in a learning capacity I am sure our school would be happy to send over an intern of appropriate intellect.

Please accept our token of appreciation for your diligence in your position.

With sincerest regards,

The Deaconess of the Institute of Arcane Principle
Satariel Shah