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authority, or the lack thereof

Chapter 7: Gallery

Summary:

Elidibus’ duties include habitual and regular visits to all parts of Amaurot. This particular day, he attends the decennial exhibit held by the graduate students of the Department of Arts.

Chapter Text

Elidibus had never been gifted in the arts though he had ever been filled with an appreciation for them. Some of his teachers in his youth had later wondered if his mind was too rigid, his hands unable to fathom how to create beyond what had already been invented. Though his control over his aether was exemplary and his temper diligent, it was this lack of creativity that truly barred him from understanding Altima’s domain.

Perhaps that had been why he had become so close to the other.

“What you see before you are the graduate pieces of this decade’s crop of students,” Altima announced proudly, spreading her arms as if to encompass everything within the hall. “Spanning from the visual arts to even elemental invocation, I do believe that this decade boasts the most variety yet. Fourteen students in total—an auspicious number, wouldn’t you say?”

Elidibus wasn’t sure what exactly was auspicious about that number beyond it being the same number of Convocation members, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Would you show me around, Altima?” He asked her. “I don’t know where to start.”

The woman grinned at him, the cheery expression at odds with the solemn mask set above her lips. “Of course. But wouldn’t you say that we should start… right at the start!” She let out a laugh, gesturing for him to follow her.

She led their way to an exhibit in the north-eastern corner of the hall. This particular corner seemed to display more traditional art pieces, for Elidibus could see two paintings displayed alongside a colossal marble figure.

It was a curious and marvellous statue. A near-exact replica of a man half-masked, robes in the process of falling from his body. One eye was left exposed as the mask threatened to fall from his face; his hood was down to reveal long locks that flew due to unseen wind; his chest and belly were revealed, though his robes had pooled where they had been gathered at his hips.

The visitors that had visited the gallery in the early hours since the exhibition started had marvelled at this piece just as much as they had murmured in disapproval. It was an intentionally sensual piece, Elidibus was fairly certain, scandalous in the figure’s exposure. But he paid no mind to the anatomy on display, his eyes instead following the curved lines of the marble so incongruous to its usual sharp and angular nature. Somehow, the sculptor had managed to chisel the stone so smooth and fine that light shone through the marble as if it were made truly of fabric.

“This is Pygmalion’s graduate work,” she introduced once Elidibus had had a moment to peer over the exhibit. “Pygmalion is slated to enter the stonemasons guild, if I’m not mistaken. Ever since he had first entered the Department of the Arts, he showed great affinity for earth manipulation. I do believe that he created this by hand once he had conceptualised the marble from which the statue was hewn… But I may have misremembered. Each of the students left descriptions along with their piece, things that they believed would enhance one’s understanding of their art.”

Elidibus nodded. And he looked to the small plaque that had been placed unobtrusively at the base of the statue. All that had been written was My Love .

Was it a tribute to something that the student loved? To someone? It was ambiguous enough to leave Elidibus pondering over the description.

Altima seemed pleased when he finally looked over at her. “Done? Next up, we have twin paintings from twin students,” she continued to explain, showing their way through the room.

One after the other, Elidibus was introduced to works of art that he examined with a growing sense of wonder at the sheer variety of works that could be created.

His favourite was difficult to pick when each and every work was imbued with the hard work and dedication of each student. Nevertheless, the most technically impressive had to be the elemental invocation that Altima had mentioned previously. It was a wondrously small orb, a swirling vortex of aether that bled from element to element; it was a display of perfect mastery over aether that it didn’t collapse even when opposing elements would bleed into one another in spite of its size.

“Imagine my surprise when Hekate decided against accepting the invitation to join the Words of Lahabrea!” Altima had exclaimed. “Apparently, his passion was far more aligned with destroying concepts than making them. Perhaps Fandaniel will be able to make something with his talents…”

“Would Pashtarot’s order not be more suited in this case?” Elidibus had wondered. “Among their Words are those dedicated to keeping the star safe from rampant beasts and concepts.”

“Oh, you’re right. I’ll have to remember to mention this to Hekate…”

The last of the art pieces that had fascinated Elidibus was a concept matrix for something described as a “printing press”—a method to create a high volume of parchment texts without the need for a quill.

“This particular student I can see having a great future within the Bureau of the Architect,” Altima had said with a content sigh. “Could you imagine? Creating books would be greatly optimised with this concept.”

Elidibus wasn’t certain if this would be able to truly displace the necessity of memory crystals and tomestones within Amaurot, but it was most certainly both a useful and wonderful creation. Books were greatly preferred beyond the walls of their great city after all.

“The future of Amaurot remains ever bright,” Elidibus murmured as they passed by the last of the fourteen exhibits on display. “Their talents are all so very promising. Thank you, Altima, for your work in guiding the star.”

Altima’s resplendent smile widened. “And thank you Elidibus for yours. It is your patronage and advice that keeps our people connected.” She reached out, placing her hand atop of Elidibus’ head. “You are to head over to the Bureau of the Administrator next, are you not? Send the Chief Overseer my regards.”

“I will. May the star ever guide your way.”