The Adeptus Sociological was at the Austerium Academy of the Adept. He carried an awful lot of emotional baggage.
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Proctor Alma was not an Adeptus or a Trainee Adeptus. He was a Master Adept. He had run his institution with pride for years, reporting cheerfully to the omnipresent figurehead of the Academies - The Chancellor of the Adept - until he had gone missing under suspicious circumstances.
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And when his old friend and alumni of his Academy appeared, he was ready.
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"You may have forgotten your name, Adeptus of Sociology. Alas, I have not. It was Jacob Outen before you tossed it aside. However, it may have been a pseudonym... The Adeptus Historical claimed his real name was Horiato S. Tory, which makes his initials HST, clearly not a real name!" Alma said amicably.
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The Adeptus Sociological mentally decided to go by title only. The Adepti had done so ever since the Academy of the Adept was established in 337 YBP, which put a rough estimate of its age at 478 years.
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"I assume you got my letter, and Limos did, in fact, send his lapdog, yes? I left the main part of my plan out as a countermeasure against the letter being intercepted."
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The Adeptus of Sociology merely nodded.
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"I will be bringing all my institutes Apprentices, Master Adepts, Trainee Adepti, and Adepti with me that wish to come, which all of them do. The Novice Scholars will be transferred to the Technologensia Academy of the Adept." Alma said anxiously.
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The Adeptus decided it was finally time to speak, "I think that it is safe to presume that the Chancellor of the Academies is dead and that we will not be hearing anything from the specialist Western Military Academy or the Institute of Aeronautical and Ætherical Excellence anytime soon."
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Proctor Alma frowned at this. "Are you sure you do not wish to come with me? There is plenty of room up north!" he said with a grin.
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The Adeptus Sociological would very much have liked to go instead of returning to be ordered to do things like stopping the Brotherhood of Unionised Steamworkers from striking - Something that the group of engineers, metalworkers, designers, welders, suppliers, and craftsmen were in fact doing, much to the annoyance of Technocrat Limos - but he could not. Not yet, anyway.
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"I will travel north when I am ready." He told the Proctor firmly wifh a steely edge to his voice.
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Proctor Alma snorted in amusement before he replied, "You mean when CATAE offer you a seat at the big boys table? Have no fear, Adeptus, I will convince Eirlys Ravyn-Valtor to offer you one!" he said through a growing smirk.
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The Adeptus Sociological suddenly became very confused - a rare and unpleasant feeling that he was not used to having.
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"Who?" he asked carefully.
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"He is like you, friend, only known by his title. He is the Shield of Empyrea, the head of the mentioned big boys table. In other words, he leads the Assembly of the Sixteen Gaurdians and, by extension,....all of CATAE." He sounded surprised as he spoke.
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"When are you going to the north?" The Adeptus asked of him.
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"As soon as I explain a few things and give you a parting gift. Firstly, the Coalition Against the Æbyss has offered to set up a temporary Academy so that I may continue...Proctoring for the want of a better word. Secondly, I can actually get CATAE to extend you an offer to become a Gaurdian, but it will cost you. And the gift is this newspaper."
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Proctor Alma extended his hand out. It clutched a newspaper, one that the Adeptus had already read. The headline was "Jiro made Gur Khan!" and referred to the second son of Khagan Xantè being made Heir after his elder brother died. "Thanks, but I have read it already." The Adeptus muttered.
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"Not this one. Here, let me show you." Proctor Alma said as he raked through drawers and pulled out a chunky torch with a purple lens.
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A whitish-purple beam streamed from it when he turned it on. Words became visible. they must have been written in invisible ink.
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It said:
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Transport ready, Proctor. Find us someone positioned close to Technocrat Limos that can be trusted, and we will take it from there.
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- Eirlys Ravyn-Valtor, the Shield of Empyrea
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"Is there anything else?" asked the Adeptus, his voice cracked slightly.
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"Tell them you were unable to stop me from resigning and melting into the shadows, but luckily, the Academy will be accepting Covenant of the Void members as Novice Scholars. I must go, expect an encounter soon."
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"Very well." He said as he held out his hand.
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Proctor Alma shook it, gathered up his belongings, and left the Adeptus in the room alone with the storm of thoughts blowing in his mind.
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Oh, so many thoughts...
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