Not Politically Correct

"Lady Dayfire, I'm sure you understand how difficult it would be to part with one of my sons," Lord Felair Fireward said with a smile. The pudgy, aging elf grinned at Biara from across the small coffee table that separated them, his fat, bejeweled fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass that was already half empty. He brought the drink to his lips, taking what was far more than a polite sip and actually burping before he set the glass down.

Biara Dayfire winced internally, taking a moment to compose herself before responding. Her manicured fingers picked absently at a non-existent thread on her red and gold silken dress as she considered the old lord and his three stooge-like sons that were thankfully separated from her by the conveniently placed furniture in Lord Fireward's parlor.

The one on the right, a skinny lad with fire red hair that was similar to her own, she had mentally nick-named 'Quiet One' as he had spoken not at all during the meeting and rarely made eye contact with her as if afraid to draw her notice. On the other side of the fat old leering Lord sat the two she had nicknamed 'Messy' and 'Spoiled', the two young Sin'dorei sporting matching red and gold coats with the difference being that Messy hadn't even bothered to tuck his shirt in while Spoiled had been making half-demands of her since the moment she had arrived as a guest to the Fireward Estate.

"I understand, Lord Fireward," Biara finally replied in a calm tone. "That is why I sought this audience; both to see your potential candidates as well as discuss the specifics of any deal we may strike up here."

Lord Fireward grinned, taking another sip of his wine while rather obviously running his eyes up and down her body. It was enough to make Biara shiver in revulsion, and he was not the only one doing it. Messy and Spoiled also were  having a hard time keeping their attention on matters at hand, while Quiet One likely was unaware that she was a girl or even in the room at this point. Biara let her thoughts return to the moment as Lord Fireward finally responded, "Your reputation is, unfortunately, not in the best standing with the Magistrate, Lady Dayfire. You must understand that the mortality rate of your apprentices is somewhat less than typical and rather undesirable, no?"

Biara grit her teeth, her irritation rising. Lord Fireward knew very well that she'd had her applications for new apprentices denied repeatedly due to the number she'd lost over the years. Her reputation was indeed 'undesirable' as an instructor and bringing it up was one of his negotiating tactics. She managed to keep her voice calm, her hands brushing an errant fire-red lock of hair from her face, "Yes, Lord Fireward, it is unfortunate that such a situation exists but my current research projects are far less dangerous. In addition, House Sunfire makes few forays into enemy territory these days as both my sister and I are rarely leading our troops into battle. I assure you that any worthwhile candidate would be ensured safety and security."

Lord Fireward nodded, his tone probably something he considered honey-smooth but one that Biara found grating, "That is excellent. All three of my sons have gifts with the arts, and I'm sure any of them would make a...worthwhile pairing with you." He smirked as he said this, his eyes again running over her form.

Biara suppressed another shudder and leaned forward, examining the three candidates in earnest now, "I presume you've tested all three using the standard methods, yes? All can handle the basic third-year spells that would be required to work in one of my laboratories?"

"Lady Dayfire, Biara if I may. Let me assure you that any one of my boys would do quite well under you," Lord Fireward responded in the same tone.

To Biara's utter disgust, Messy and Spoiled glanced at each other and nearly snickered at the term 'under you', as if it had some implication. Given the way the Lord of the house was eyeing her, maybe it did at that.

As if any of them could handle that anyway.

Biara refrained from commenting directly, instead looking at Quiet One...Faralen was his name, "And why do you wish to be an apprentice, young Faralen? What drives you to walk the paths of power?"

Quiet One nearly jumped off of the divan upon which he was resting upon being addressed directly. He looked at Biara in a panic, his tone stuttering, "I-I um...I want to um, learn and stuff...."

Biara sighed, immediately understanding that the young Sin'dorei was not yet ready for such a dangerous mental journey. She turned, looking to the other two. Before she could even open her mouth to speak, Spoiled spoke up, his tone demanding, "Is this really necessary? We've passed all the testing our father has required of us. I don't really see the need to further question our obvious capabilities."

Biara scowled, her tone firm, "It is indeed. Magic is extremely dangerous and I would not want to work with someone who didn't treat it with the respect it demands." She turned, looking towards Messy to see what he would say. She was immediately annoyed to note that he was staring at her bare legs where they were visible through the slit in her dress. She cleared her throat and finally managed to get his attention.

"And what of you? What leads you towards the path to becoming a Magister?" Biara said.

Messy's eyes remained locked on Biara's for all of two seconds before his gaze traveled back down to her legs. He murmured a response that set her irritation levels through the roof, "Oh, I think there are a lot of perks to it if you know what I mean."

Although she knew what the likely result would be, Biara tested those present by slowly sliding her crossed leg down and recrossing her legs in the opposite direction. Instantly all eyes except Quiet One's were no longer focused on her face at all. Given her already low impression of the potential candidates, she felt something inside her snap. Magic crackled on her right cheek as the defensive wards placed there activated in response to her mood.

In a huff she rose, startling those across the table. Lord Fireward rose as well, nearly spilling his drink in his haste, "Biara! Is something amiss?"

Biara glared at him, her tone scathing now, "I am the Magistrix Biara Dayfire, blood heir of House Sunfire. You will address me as such henceforth. I am concluding this interview as I find your candidates to be unacceptable."

Lord Fireward began to sputter some response as Biara whirled and began to walk away, the protests echoing behind her coming from all but Quiet One who had managed to slink away in the sudden uproar, unnoticed by his father. Biara made it exactly two steps before a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. She found herself face to face with Spoiled, his mouth curved into a sneer, "How dare you imply I am not good enough! Do you know who I am? You should consider yourself lucky that we allowed you into our estate to interview us in the first place! With your reputation for killing your apprentices....why, you're lucky you don't have to offer favors to get anyone to even speak with you."

It was the last straw. Deep inside, Biara heard her sister Kyliska's voice calmly and coolly instructing her on how to dismantle an opponent in hand to hand combat somewhere on a training field from years ago. Without even really thinking her hand came up, her delicate fingers curled into a fist that struck Spoiled so hard in the eye he tumbled backwards, the pathetic squeak that he uttered comical as he tripped over the coffee table behind him and fell on his rear.

For a moment, no one spoke a word, and Lord Fireward simply stared in disbelief. He growled at Biara finally, magic curling around his fat fingers as he chanted a few words, "You will pay for that, Magistrix. To think I was considering marrying one of them off as a favor to you. You'll go nowhere until the Blood Knights have had a word with you..."

Raging magic met his words, Biara's fury unleashed finally. Flames danced in the air around her and her eyes flared brightly. The blue wards on her face glowed, and the matching ones on her body were so bright they could be seen through the fabric of her dress. She reached out a hand and the magic in Lord Fireward's fist was snuffed out as if it had never been.

In a venomous tone that silenced everyone, Biara nearly hissed, "You should consider carefully why all of those apprentices died, Lord Fireward. You should consider this very carefully before you dare to use magic in my presence again. As for your Blood Knights, I will be more than happy to send my sister to your residence with her own Blood Knights to 'speak' with you if you'd like. I somehow doubt you would enjoy the encounter however. Our business is concluded."

With that she turned and stormed away, her power still a physically felt thing. Behind her Lord Fireward's voice chased her, his yelling sounding more like pathetic mewling, "I will complain about this to the Magistrate! You....you'll see! This is totally intolerable-"

His voice was silenced as she slammed the front door of his estate behind her, his servants scattering from the path of her fury. She had finally had enough politics, enough negotiations for once. For one time in her life, Biara simply wanted something to be easy, to go smoothly, to allow her work to progress and her life to have interesting, meaningful objectives. But no, it was always politics, always Lords and Ladies and titles and committees getting in her way.

"To hell with it all," Biara murmured. She barked out a word of magic, tearing a portal open before her. "I'll find my own damn apprentices."

And then she was gone, her fury and magic gone with her.