First Lesson An armored figure walks out of a portal in The Twilight Valley* “Lord Sylver?”, they whisper quietly. The figure has arrived in a garden in Sylver’s palace—the geometry has formed itself to take them here. Sylver is knelt over, tending to a field of black and white flowers underneath a willow tree. “That is I,” he says without turning around. The armored figure bows and removes their helmet* “I am Keria. Short for Ikeriabelle. I have come to start my studies. My father sent me believing this would be a prime time to start.” Sylver spins to a standing position. Today, his fluctuating appearance bears one silver eye and one gold. Small runic tattoos run up and away from the silver eye. “Ikeriabelle. You are Crowley’s child.” It was not a question. “You have arrived… within time,” he said, as the rate of time often fluctuated here. If you will follow me?” “Of course.” Keria follows Sylver, keeping pace behind him* Sylver leads her around a corner of the garden, between two close bushes, and suddenly they are in a sitting room, the fire already lit. “Please,” he says, “have a seat.” “Thank you.” Keria sits, the armor evaporating into nanotech as she does and the wave of nanites flows into a necklace on her neck* “Now, tell me a little. What magics are you most proficient at?” “I have limited magma manipulation due to a gland in my side. Annoyingly enough, lava has a tendency to seep into several of my organ systems. I do have the standard manipulation of hellfire”, as she says this her right pointer finger bursts into fire for a moment, “and that’s about it. But due to the torc around my neck, I have an eidectic memory, and a ability called charmspeak.” He nods. “I can work with that. And I assume you use both a gun and a sword?” “Yes. I am slightly more proficient with a blaster or gun, since my reflexes aren’t the best. I have an Amban Sniper Rifle (a disruptor rifle, targets are disintegrated) and two RSKF-44 blaster pistols.” “Hmm... no sword, yet?” “Not yet.” He nods again and reaches his hand into the air. He draws through a wrapped scabbard and holds it lightly. “Take this, he says.” “Thank you.” She takes the package and unwraps it* As soon as she peels back the last of the wrappings, it becomes immensely heavy and falls from her grip. It makes a thud when it hits the ground, but is nowhere to be seen. “Hm. Interesting.” “Your weapon is currently in the Gardens. It has a strong wielding enchantment placed on it. When you are able to lift that blade, you are ready to wield it. Until then, you will practice as all aspiring bladesman do: with a dulled infantry blade—well, yours won’t be dulled.” “I understand. Thank you sir.” “Until that time, you will train under me and my two vassals, Luck and Ambition. You will be provided with a frequent supply of mana, stamina, and some other elixirs. Be sure to keep stocked. You will need them.” “Yes sir.” “If you walk out that door,” he nods to a dark mahogany door on the side of that room, “the palace will lead you to your quarters. Get settled, you will begin training tomorrow.” “Thank you. Understood.” Keria stands up to leave*