Thread: Seeds of Spira (Broomhandle45 and Candira)

The Mi'hen Concourse Academy was settled in the midway point between Luca and the latter half of the Mi'hen Highway. It was a beautiful mix of Lucan architecture and Al Behd ingenuity, a clean white look that was complimented by refined and efficient machinery of elevators and other conveniences to make it a striking statement of the unity of Spira. The Academy had become something of a local fixture in the last ten years. It was more than just a high borne school for excellent students, it was the next generation of protectors for Spira. While political instability had settled years ago, the potential for dresspheres was a new problem that nobody had expected. While beneficial to nearly every experienced traveler and warrior, for those less accustomed to the mental rigors of combat and using a dressphere was immensely dangerous. And through the own rise of the Guardians at Mi'hen and Bevelle they placed a high demand legally and a higher demand on the black market. They fought against everything from minor issues more dangerous than basic police problems such as a large fiend or dealing with the LeBlanc Syndicate smuggling dresspheres to people who can't honestly control them. Being a student at either academy was the very best that Spira had to offer, fighting for the good of Spira for better or worse. For some, it was better...for others it was worse. Today was the big day for just about every Cadet, certification tests for their dresspheres had happened only a week ago. And they had been in the sorting process since then. Training, training...studying...more studying. It was the dull life of a student, but that would turn around for just about anyone who passed certification, which none of them knew if they really did or not just yet. That didn't stop many of them from being excited, others felt secure in their scores...some were dreading hearing them. Garen Birkett was one of the handful of students that seemed incredibly smug about his chances, and on the other hand he was acting like he was about to bolt out of his seat. It was rather surprising that he of all people would be so confident, but that cool sense of accomplishment was fading fast under a impatient streak. Okay, sure...maybe he barely passed most academic tests...and maybe he really didn't seem too interested in most of the processes except actually getting a dressphere. But most people considered it some eccentric Al-Bhed quality that he would just so mindlessly assume he'd succeed...which could probably be a fair guess. He was the ideal Al-Bhed image, with his hair braided in spots here and there and a set of worn and abused goggles nestled above his head. In earlier days, they'd be worn to hide the swirling eyes that identified them for prejudice. While some of that hadn't gone away, anymore the goggles and the jumpsuits were unfashionable cultural points for his people. Thankfully, Garen was a little more inclined to human fashions -and it was a bit more normal to be wearing pants and a shirt anyway-. The Headmaster had told every student to simply wait in their homeroom and they would be called. That was driving Garen absolutely mad as he reclined back against his desk with a long, frustrated sigh. He was one of many antsy to hear the results. They only had so many Instructors to let them advance to the next level, which meant they'd have to wait until that round of education would be over before they could even think about applying again. Drec ec cu cdibet! Why can't they just come in here and tell me I passed so I don't have to do more than this stupid desk work? Garen grumbled. Patience was never one of his strong suits, and it showed just seeing him attempt to sit at his desk. The operative word being 'attempting', considering he was reclining his chair on two legs.