A pink envelope arrives.

[Ceruse]

A dusty morning.

Ceruse had to stand on her toes to reach the book she wanted. The stool she was stood on didn’t seem to stable, she wobbled a bit, but managed to grab the tome. A heavy, dust-covered thing for a book. She sneezed as she blew the dust off the cover and smiled as the title was revealed. She was happy she had put on the Kirin Tor tabard, it functioned well as an apron to keep her robes from getting covered in dust amongst these dusty books. She sighed, muttered “They really should get someone to organise this place”. Fact is, that it was her job to do so, but she’d been much too busy lately to handle all her tasks. She laid the tome down on a table and turned her head, looked out of the pink stained glass window that gave Dalaran a rosy tint.

She was happy the city was flourishing again. Her father would have been pleased. Although she never quite got used to the Horde being there. It was still odd passing a Forsaken in the middle of Dalaran. After having spent quite a lot of time lately shooting fireballs at the scourge, it was a hard urge to resist when seeing something undead. Not to mention the Tauren. That smell will take a lot of time getting used to. The phrase “Cow-man” popped up in her head, the name she had for them as a child. Her father would read her books and show her pictures of different races, different places, different times. He seemed to have a story for every occasion. She missed him. Thinking of him made her smile - he would’ve been proud of his daughter, Archmage Ceruse Snowdon of Kirin Tor. She was pretty proud of that herself, too.

Ceruse flicked some pages in the tome, trying to find the right chapter. There was no index to help her find it. She cursed the mages of old, who wrote this book, for not being very considerate of future mages like herself. She tied her hair back, it kept brushing against her cheeks and getting in her eyes whenever she leaned her head forward. While absently turning one page after another her mind wandered, she thought of Tierney. It had been a while since she checked on the girl. She was glad she’d made such a good friend. Such an unexpected friend. “I’ll go to Stormwind and see her… Maybe…”, she thought, and finished the sentence by saying “Tonight” out loud.

“Tonight, what?” Someone said at the other side of the room. Ceruse jumped and looked up, spotting a mage she’d seen often in the library lately.

“Oh erm.. Nothing.” She forced a smile and closed the book, giving up on finding the bit she was looking for, for now. “Excuse me.” She left the book on the table and walked out hastily. She brushed off her tabard, grey with dust. In the quietness of her rooms, she sat down by the old oak desk that had been in the family for generations, dipped her quill in ink and started writing…
---

“To the officers and members of Rhyme and Punishment,

As one of the most respected guilds around, I’m sure you get plenty of applications from people wanting to join you. Do you have room for a mage with a tendency of setting things (mostly undead ones) on fire?

I’ve noticed some of you occupying the crate area of the Trade District of Stormwind. I don’t seem to come to Stormwind as much anymore, but that’s because of lack of time, rather than wanting to. I don’t have many friends left in Stormwind (and sadly, not many left alive) anymore, and I would happily, and proudly join you, as you do seem like a nice lot, from what I’ve seen and heard. I miss having a social life. That’s where Rhyme and Punishment comes into the picture. It’d be nice to feel like I belong somewhere, and have people to turn to.

I come from a long line of mages, my father was in the council of Kirin Tor, and now I am as well. I was born and raised in Stormwind, but my heart is now in Dalaran.

My husband died a few years ago, after which I buried myself in work, and thus worked my way up in Kirin Tor. It’s a busy life. Should anyone for some reason want to catch me for a chat, a good bet would be the Dalaran mage library. I’m supposed to help sort the place out a bit, but there seems to be an endless supply of distractions, and not many people willing to help. Must be some sort of fear of dust, which there is plenty of.

As much as I like books, they don’t say very much, or make good company at taverns. If you’d be willing to take me on, and think you could handle my endless chatter, please do contact me.

All the best,
Ceruse Snowdon”
---

She folded the letter and slipped it inside a pink envelope, walked down the stairs and dropped it inside one of Dalaran’s many mailboxes.

[Shevron]

[Falcore]

That approved stamp needs to be green, get to work.

[Shevron]

>:|

[Serendipity]

I say blue.

[Pepple]

Yapoe.