“It really can't be helped then.” her mother stood from the table with her plate approaching her daughter. She sat her plate upon Temora's own empty plate and put her hand on her daughter's shoulder to embrace the advantageous and inescapable position she had. Temora didn't show affection to her mother that way, and barely her father. It turned into a half-hearted attempt at a hug that her mother did not necessarily mind, but remained disappointing. Her mother had plenty of hugs, enough for the both of them.

As she began to turn away she leaned over to point at an oil spot on her undershirt and brushed off some crumbs from the fried tomatoes. Temora knew that brightfeast would do something to her uniform. Luckily, the overcoat buttoned fully from the front. A garment that was necessary in the cold sky, and with Argentis' unpredictable weather. “Thanks, mom.” She stood from the table and released the folded cloth from its place in the chair diagonal to her. “My pleasure, hun. Are you sure you don't need to bring anything else with you?”

“My instructor specifically told me not to bring any ‘personal effects’, and have no idea why. I guess I'll find that out today.” she said shrugging her way toward the front door of the house. “Take care hun, and please at least write.”, a final wave of concern radiated from her nearly glowing face. “I planned to Mom.” she smiled and laughed a bit, out of nervousness. “I do have to get going, they said ‘be there shortly after brightset’ so I'm probably already behind a few beads!”, she yelled around a conveniently closing door.

Temora was out on the street now, in uniform. In view were a few others just like her, on their way to the schools or the college, also in uniform. Their house was on the posh side of the city, close to many shops. She began her short walk down the side street to the main road. This street was made up of individually set stones in a dovetail shape creating a massive brickwork, as most of the streets in the city of Ushunfield were. These bricks were of multiple muted colors; greys, blue-greys, natural terracotta shades, whites, and blacks.

Ushunfield was built along a mountain side had many steep streets, but hers was not one of them. The stone that made up the street brickwork was sourced locally, and she remembered her late grandfather who worked on them. She was lucky to live on this particular street, in a single-family home. The street was not built for vehicles of any kind, but people still rode warbirds through it. Trees lined its center median spaced out a fair distance, stopping at the main road.

At that main road was a center courtyard, one of many in a city of millions. A few blocks down she could see her mother's lumberyard, and the merchants unloading there; as they had been all night. Her mother spent some time there each day, but her managers took care of most of the paperwork now that she wasn't as spritely. Her parents met at an early age when he needed her services to outfit the crew quarters after gaining rank. Her mom always told the story about “being weak around men in uniform”. Despite serving time in the military herself, she never left the skyland. Some of the arguments she had with her mother recently were fueled by a perceived hypocrisy.

Temora had the privilege of living very close to the college that she would be attending, due to the location of her parent's house. Demanding a house close to that building was almost a condition of their marriage. Her mother, in possession of all the wood needed for the house, sourced it for nothing. The Argentian military sent civil service to construct the building. They only ever paid the architect and landlord, both friends of her mother. The rather large house was practically a wedding gift.

The college was about six blocks from the courtyard, which did not mean much. The campus itself was so large that getting to the property was only half of the walk from her house. About half a redknot across the campus grounds, a full redknot from home. In total, about a ten-bead walk. The walk across the grounds was always pleasant. Its grass, trees, and garden were well-maintained and diverse. Seasonally there were flowers she had never seen before. Each semester was a visual treat. The groundskeepers were able to answer questions presented to them about any of them. Temora always liked flowering plants but never tended to them herself.

Across the paved grounds walkway was the collegiate hall. As close as she was, most of the area in front of the door was an intense blue blur. Uniformed students ran from class to class to meet their bell times at the other end of the campus. This was a feeling she knew all too well, as that ended for her just a few grads ago. She was glad to know she wouldn't have to put up with that for at least a few years while in service.

Temora approached the door, and the students broke their way around her. The three sets of double doors weren't enough, and passing through them was strife with accidental body checks from people moving too fast for their own good. Faces of wide-eyed hopefuls, and soul-sucked veteran academics occupied the same space. This was a place where social lives came to their final rest in the pursuit of merit and prestige.

She walked up the flight of stairs to the second level of the hall. Most of the students were coming from the ground floor which was sunken into the ground about half a story. Past a majority of the administrative offices, for student record keeping, standardized testing, and registration; was admissions. Temora peered around the door to the admissions office, propped open by a bin full of reams of blank paper. “Hello, I'm looking---”, the desk was an empty seat. She walked in, approached the desk, and looked around, seeing nobody.

Patiently she stood with posture in front of the desk. After a moment there was the sound of a stack of papers falling, followed by many unreasonable expletives. A short man in a poorly fitted and stained blue uniform exited a side office. Grasping firmly onto a pile of misstacked documents, he heavily stepped toward the desk. He tossed the papers onto the only square of empty space left on that desk, and briefly adjusted his posture and uniform.

“Who do you need to see Mame?” he stared up to her eyes as he sat squatly into his chair. “Prodean Falken sir.” Temora boasted assertively. “Mame. I will get ahold of him, can you take a seat next to the door, please? They'a call you when they're ready.” kind in voice, but visibly upset that he was required to stand up again. “What is your name mame?”

“Temora.” she stated firmly, still standing. “An' your family name mame?” he uttered downward toward the papers on his desk, which had the priority of his attention. “Fayn sir. Temora Fayn”, her gaze did not deviate from its position directly ahead, not once. The short admissions attendant finally glanced up from the desk briefly. “Fayn? You must be Keyt's daughter then ah'ght mame?” he smiled for the first time since she had seen him. “Correct sir.” still unwavering in her dedication to the forward stare.

“Please mame, take a seat. I'll do my best to see that Falken is here within the beat.”, he walked around the desk, motioning her to sit down. In his eyes was the intent to get her to relax, she picked this up instantly. Temora exhaled in full and came down from attention, which she did almost out of instinct. He then left the room pacing loudly down the hallway. Sans footsteps and chatter from outhall students, there was silence.