A train blew its whistle, screeching into the hot, stagnant air of the East Skyside Station, sending pigeons on its roof into harried flight. The horrible sound sliced through a sheer lace curtain and bounced around the room beyond. Quite suddenly, from the beauty of sleep, dream, and peace, Kroweth was painfully, horribly awake.

Our Cohort awoke upon their first Moonday in the Magaambya, safe within the thick stone walls of the Spire Dormitory, with the pattering rain against their windows and ceiling, and all met in the common area, decorated with colored tessellated tiles, comfy couches, and tapestries.

Deep within the city of Nantambu, in the rain of the greatest school for the magically-inclined, ancient and impressive in its scope and structure, known everywhere as The Magaambya, a band of five brand new students met at a campfire in a pleasant glade. These five students, of wildly different backgrounds, homes, and personalities, were here to attend this magical school, all bound to be a Cohort, a group that would protect, help, and be there for each other.