Art and inspiration

As an apprentice of the Mournwatch, who had not yet completed his training, he shared his room with a fellow trainee—though, unlike him, the other boy hadn't been startled awake, as a quick glance toward the other bed in the dim light revealed.

Yuriel got up and stumbled toward the door; he wasn't fully awake yet. It had to be those youngsters again, sneaking out of their dormitory to play pranks on the older students. If he caught those little brats...

He yanked the door open, but instead of looking into the guilty face of a child, he found himself gazing into a familiar face. Veryl, a Mournwatch mage just like himself, though a couple of years older and thus more experienced, seemed to be prepared for... trouble? Or a date? Or both?

Unlike Yuriel, his comrade was fully equipped and impeccably turned out. His robe was smooth, his mage’s staff polished—and after blinking in surprise at the unexpected visit, Yuriel even noticed details like the subtle stroke of dark kohl beneath Veryl’s eyes; he had really spruced himself up. His long silken black hair framed his delicate formed face with the beauty of a noble raven. Yuriel had more than once witnessed heads turning for him - and he could not blame them in the slightest.

He was about to ask the all-important question when his visitor made a silent "shh" gesture, holding a finger to his elegantly pursed lips. Without another word of explanation, Veryl slipped him a small note, glanced furtively around, and gave Yuriel a final nod before vanishing into the darkness of the corridor. Secrecy likely hadn't been necessary—older students were permitted to be outside their quarters even at a late hour—but Yuriel had a hunch that Veryl was up to something; so, he took a look at the slip of paper Veryl had quickly pressed into his hand.

Yuriel found no written message on it—only ornate symbols, arrows, and caricatures of… people? Yuriel frowned, then finally smiled. His companion clearly delighted in testing him with cryptic messages.

He was still standing in his sleeping trousers by his room’s slightly ajar door, running his fingers through his unruly red hair.

Finally, he smiled and shook his head as he solved the puzzle. Moving very quietly so as not to wake his roommate, he crept over to his dresser and grabbed a robe suitable for going out. Once dressed and having tidied his hair, he picked up his own mage’s staff and left the room.