[div style="width:50%;opacity:0.5;font-size:0.85em;border-bottom:1px solid #ffffff;"]TUESDAY, JUNE 20, 2000, 9:01 PM[/div]
Ah, June. The beginning of summer. The end of the school years, which meant that some Discipli would come to Inverness for part of the summer to learn their Element, and some that had just finished their final year of wizarding school would come to stay and become Advocates.
For Aiolos, the arrival of June also meant the end of May, the end of his "vacation" month, which meant he was back on the rotation for taking care of the Typh Shrine, teaching Typh Discipli (and various other Discipli who wanted to expand their knowledge beyond their own elements), transmitting orders from the Harbingers to the Zealots, and having to feel his own element by means of meditation, rather than morphing into air itself. As the sunset approached, he was on his way to the latter right now, a work day of lessons and communing once again completed.
All Elementals, even those of the same Element, tended to do things differently. For instance, Aiolos only knew of one other Typh Elemental that meditated the way he did -- outside of the Council complex, on a grassy hill where the falling sun and impending twilight cooled the air and created the loving, caressing winds that he could barely wait to surround himself with. And, the other Typh didn't use words like "loving" and "caressing" to describe the wind. Such differences only broadened the entire Elemental culture's understanding of The Six, Aiolos believed. Allowing each Elemental to pursue their Element in a manner that was consistent with their personality and circumstances, kept the entire culture from going stagnant.
Unfortunately, it seemed sometimes that the Council wanted to keep the Elementals stagnant. Not that the Harbingers didn't endorse learning and growing and increasing one's powers, but there were, shall we say, prescribed ways to do it. Aiolos' methods, while different, were still rather conservative, so he hadn't been called out on any of his behaviours. But he had seen and head others who were.
Such broodings aren't conducive to an evening of happy reflection, Aiolos thought to himself as he shut the door to his quarters, having changed from his Acolyte robes into loose white linens and a grey sleeveless V-necked shirt. He turned down the hallways and headed out to the western exit of the complex, pleasantly greeting all Council members that he passed. As he neared the columnar archway, he warmly clasped the hand of a Demin Zealot who was "guarding" the passage, but who was familiar with Aiolos' evening routine. He let the Typh Acolyte pass, and Aiolos prepared to step out onto the cool evening grass, his mind already distracted by the breeze he felt coming into the passage.