Deep within the enchanted marble walls of the citadel, Endymion the Master Magician was deep in slumber while his apprentice scribbled notes across the desk from him.
To look at him, an old grandfatherly figure snoozing away in his favorite chair, one could be forgiven to not realize they were in the presence of one of the mightiest spellcasters to ever walk the nine realms. In his youth, Endymion was a feared battlemage. In his exploits and adventures he had earned fame and accumulated enchanted treasures to rival any dragon's hoard.
Due to his status and experience, Endymion found it increasingly difficult to relate to the vanilla mortals around him. Wise enough to recognize the growing problem of isolation and madness, he had decided to populate his citadel with humans rather than the automatons and magical constructs that had existed only to serve him. The lonely keep was transformed into a school for higher learning.
The girl sitting at his desk was Endymion's apprentice, called Silent by everyone around her. "Silent" was not her birth name, of course. Silent was so named because as a child she was found abandoned in a ditch with a nasty gash across her neck. Most likely, she had displayed magical talent in some manner that her own parents disapproved of and so they had attempted to kill her.
She was taken to Endymion, who was able to save the girl's life despite the massive loss of blood. A miracle, even for the old wizard who could conjure thunderbolts and level mountains. He was more of a battlemage than a healer, and so when he mended her flesh he could not repair the damage to her voice. The girl was rendered mute, and Endymion forever shamed himself for his failure. He raised her in the citadel and made sure the girl wanted for nothing.
Silent was short, fair of skin with some freckles that others described as cute. Behind her silver framed glasses were a pair of large green eyes that shone like emeralds. Her dark blonde hair always fell in front of her eyes, even on days like today where she tried to hold it back with a sky blue bandana. Her shapely body was hidden by a very thick and fluffy white robe to guard against the chill of the autumn night. The scars across her neck were faded, but the ever shy and self-conscious girl hid them the best she could.
Silent was good at keeping secrets, as she could only communicate through writing and so carried around a dusty chalkboard in order to scribble simple responses to others. People talked freely around her, perhaps overlooking her or thinking her both deaf and dumb. The other apprentices her age avoided her out of awkwardness and disinterest. Silent noted rather cynically that the only people that were regularly nice to her were the Sentinels of Endymion, a group of paladins and crusaders that guarded the Citadel, and they only did so because the mature knights all wanted to fuck the nubile apprentices they watched over day and night regardless if they were great beauties or not.
Endymion stirred restlessly in his sleep before settling again. Silent looked over the sheets of alchemical formulae and geometric glyphs and runes. The private lessons had become necessary, as a natural bookworm Silent was already outpacing the other students of her year. She had become easily bored with basic material, even this advanced binding spell Endymion had her studying seemed simplistic to her. Little did she know that the old sage was grooming her to one day take his place and prestige, but in the moment she was a teenage girl that needed stimulation and excitement.
Silent stood up and walked through a side door into Endymion's personal library. Past the great bookshelves loaded down with hundreds of tomes, litanies, and grimoires were more tables and shelves displaying various artifacts. Silent could recognize the spiral horn of a unicorn, a thunderbird's tailfeather, a red stone that could very well be an alchemist's magnum opus, and more curiosities. Silent glanced at her reflection in a magic mirror, but avoided looking herself in the eyes to prevent being trapped on the other side. Wandering among the collection of strange and dangerous artifacts, Silent finally stopped in front of a great crystal decanter that was filled with a clear but shimmering liquid.
Carefully, Silent picked the vessel up from its place and tenderly brushed a thin layer of dust off of it. Quickly she made her way upstairs into the master magician's private bathroom. It was a large room, finely decorated with marble tiles and glazed terracotta. The magician had designed plumbing devices to bring water all the way up from an underground cavern to this room through gilded pipes while simultaneously heating it. Silent stepped down some smooth cut stairs into the great basin, and made sure the drain was tightly closed before slipping out of her robe, tossing the bundle of clothing back onto a stone table.
