Glacies Orientation (3)

Through the majestic golden archways, passing the terrifying yet awe inducing Eye of Babel, and bypassing the courtyards of the Administratum, the trio stepped onto the path leading towards the Academy. With each step they took on the granite path, their curiosity or anticipation grew depending on who was thinking it of course. As they walked, one leading and two following side by side, they passed by a steady stream of people who were starting to trickle towards Glacies as well. Most of which who were of similar age to the trio, most likely fellow students, but curiously enough there was also far older people as well who were most certainly not fellow students. This mattered little to the trio, however, as they were finally upon the long building of Glacies. Long indeed it was with little width to it, instead resembling a large cut of a log.

Of course, this 'log' was of fine make with large marble stone pillars erected to hold the towering entryway up that looked to be covering the heavens if one looked upwards. The long walls of Glacies were dotted with rectangular windows that were tinted black, obscuring those who wished to peer inward. Approaching the walkway, after hearing directions and instructions being yelled by a young man wearing red mage robes, they headed towards the large revolving doors that stood taller than an adult man of average height, and waited for their turn to push through it and enter the main hall of Glacies.

"A slow-moving revolving door, an odd choice especially when Glacies has to accommodate for such a large influx of people yearly. Causing the mob to wait is just asking for problems" thought Cyrus.

As if he had received a gift of prophecy rather than essence manipulation, a loud argument began to break out in the line next to him.

"I came here early and I still have to wait, unbelievable!" shouted a large obese man, sweating hard in the morning sun. He was towards the back of the slow moving queue, followed by what appeared to be similar to a crew of thin and lanky backup dancers whose only job seemed to be to repeat what the obese man said.

"Wow, I thought those stories we read as a kid were simply just that…stories. It appears they had a basis in reality after all, I am actually impressed" remarked Cyrus as he glanced behind.

His remark caused the immediate surroundings to follow Cyrus' line of sight, eliciting more than a few laughs from fellow book lovers at the expense of the obese man. Not being as daft as he looked, the man noticed the laughter directed towards him and began bristling ever more. His face turned red and his breathing turned ragged as he shook, causing small waves to form along his chest all the while. This did more than to cause the laughter from the niche lovers of action novels to spread to those who did not partake as well.

The man, apparently forgetting where he was, started to scream and yell incoherently as he threw a punch towards the closest laughing person. Mighty the punch was, as it had the force of a raging obese bull thrown behind it. If it connected with the laughing mans face, surely it would have at least broken his nose if not more. The man did not seem to care however, as he merely began to laugh even harder. Surely the bull of a man would have realized something was off, if he was capable of coherent thought in his rage that is, but alas fate had already decided what to do with the man.

His fist mere inches away from the laughing individuals very own, it was caught with ease by a third party. The bullman, or perhaps pigman, was even more outraged that someone would dare to stop his fist and was more than prepared to break free and pounce on the interfering party. Unfortunately for him, his fist would not budge…not even a centimeter. Realization finally dawning upon him, his rage subsided enough for him to gaze upon the countenance of the third party which immediately dissipated any rage that had built within the man and replaced it with a shock and terror.

The interfering man was not tall, of impressive stature, nor was he threatening. In fact he was just a young man who appeared to be in his late twenties that seemed genteel and compassionate. He was wearing a white tunic with a loose white cape draped over his shoulders, with the Imperial Leo patterned on it. What was most noticeable, however, was the two interlinked black and white chains that hung from his neck. The chains, looking thick and heavy, were intertwined with one another and at the ends of each connected one half of a small scale. Currently, however, the scale was slowly moving from one end to another as if weighing an invisible object.

The pigman's attention was caught by the action, his fear and terror growing larger with each passing second. Mere moments later, the half of the scale with the black chain attached to it dipped downwards in one fluid motion.

"The weight of your sins has been weighed. Imperial Grand Law III, disturbance of the peace is prohibited. Claudo."

As the man spoke the last word, of the ancient tongue, black chains appeared on the arms of the now quieted man that slowly contracted causing his arms to be forced by his back. The chains then wrapped themselves tightly around the two arms, binding them together in a manner that looked to be quite painful.

The one being chained, however, had no desire to complain as he wisely shut his mouth before his charges were increased. He was then dragged forward, as if he was being pulled by a chain, and followed in tow of the one who had chained him. This individual, however, glanced at Cyrus for a moment perhaps understanding that he was somewhat responsible for the escalation. Alas, the scale did not move thus he broke his gaze and continued on his way.

Imran whistled and said, "Seems the Judicars were invited to maintain order. I guess while it would be simple for the mages themselves to maintain order they see it as below them to deal with the rabble."

"Judicars…" thought Cyrus as he recalled the description of them he had read long ago.

"If I recall correctly it read like: Order Judicas, the militant wing of the Empire's Judiciary. They wield the power of the law to capture and imprison criminals, maintaining order throughout the Empire'. At the time I did not think that it to be literal. That they actually wield the law as if it were magic, but that was no magic that I know of. No essences were manipulated or created, how strange" thought Cyrus, his curiosity piqued.

His train of thought was broken by Imran as he pointed towards the now open area in front of them, it was their turn to enter through the impressive revolving doors of glass make.

As Cyrus pushed through the gargantuan revolving doors, with Minerva still stubbornly at his side, he realized the true purpose of such a set up.

"Visually, it is appealing as well as a neat little trick of ingenuity. Its practical application is where the true purpose lay; the doors naturally slow and limit the amount of people who can come inside at once, thus allowing for an easy scanning of each one who comes in" thought Cyrus, as he felt a strong sense wash over him.

"What could they be looking for in specific though? Spies? How would one sense that though, as far as I can tell it only allows one to see the essences all around us…"

Nevertheless, he continued onwards along the entry way as he followed the crowd towards a grand hall where the opening ceremony would take place. Passing through the spacious halls, taking fleeting glances at all the beautiful and vibrant murals on the walls, the trio finally came to the entryway for the grand hall. At the entrance were several tables occupied by what Cyrus assumed to be similar in nature to the lackeys of Caligo. One entryway led towards the middle of the hall where a copious amount of padded wooden chairs had been arranged while the other led to a peripheral area for spectators that, of course, came at a fair price. The trio headed towards the table overseen by students, where they were stopped with a question.

"Names?" asked the student, as he looked over an oversized book full of names.

"Imran Mercator"

"Cyrus"

"Minerva"

Flipping through the book with an astonishing speed, the student located each of the names and wrote a checkmark beside each name. He then waved them onwards, without so much as a verification of their identities.

While walking through the entryway, past a watchful eye of a Judicar who was standing in between the two paths, Cyrus thought

"Do they trust that no one will impersonate another completely? Or perhaps…can these Judicars even tell when one is lying?"

Temporarily pushing aside his guesses and doubts, he took a seat alongside his two companions and inspected the room at large.

In each corner of the room was a large dark granite pillar adorned with banners of the Empire. The first was the tower symbolizing the seat of power for the mages, the second was an eye symbolizing the vision of the mages that reach everywhere, the third being the Imperial Leo and the last being an icicle which the hallmark symbol of Glacies. Other than that, the room was of standard make with the open center populated by unending seats and the walls lined with temporary tiered seating reminiscent of a large set of stairs. In between the pillars were large crystalline constructs that ran like a line connecting each pillar to one another. They each emitted a dim light that lit up the interior while a large skylight poured in the natural morning sun. At the head of the hall was a stage, on it a single podium of simple make.

Taking all of this in, Cyrus sank into his thoughts whilst awaiting silently for the ceremony to begin.