Out of all the rooms and chambers at the Institute of War, the least visited one would be the one belonging to the champion known as LeBlanc the Deceiver.
It wasn’t a question about courage or danger – on the contrary, the Matron was quite an amiable woman, entertaining her visitors with hospitality and a cup of tea. Rather, it was more of a question of actually finding the room – the stone door with a small, silvery plaque engraved with a single rose could never be found in the same spot twice. It would magically change its location, and on some days, it wouldn’t appear at all – most likely when the Matron either isn’t in her room or when she doesn’t feel like entertaining visitors.
Presently, LeBlanc was comfortably sitting with her legs crossed in her high-backed, cushioned chair, the armrests and feet carved out to look like detailed rose heads. Idly rocking her airborne leg, she reached out to the table next to her – carved in the same fashion like the chair, depicting rose motifs all over the surface – and picked up a small cup of tea.
LeBlanc brought it in front of her, breathing in the steam rising from the liquid before exhaling, a seemingly relaxed expression mirrored on her face. She closed her eyes and brought the cup of tea to her lips, ready to take a sip …
… only to linger. LeBlanc kept her eyes closed for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. She tilted her head slightly and let out a soft, disappointed sigh before lowering the cup of tea. She opened her eyes and looked expectantly at the door – in the blink of an eye, an ethereal, blue hummingbird phased through the door and began buzzing around the champion. It seemed to have a small note in its beak.
LeBlanc placed the cup of tea back on the table and watched the conjured bird with a disinterested expression. She spoke out sarcastically as she pursed her lips in displeasure.
In a quick motion, LeBlanc grabbed the hummingbird by its tail feathers and gracefully held it still between her fingers. With her other hand, she plucked the note from its beak, before letting go of the conjuration and casually waved her hand through it, making it disappear in blue smoke.
The Matron patiently unfolded the note in her hands before her eyes carefully read the message within. She had a bemused smile playing on her lips, one eyebrow raised mirthfully. She casually folded back the note and placed it on the table next to her cup of tea.
So, I am expected to be sociable and entertain those that wish to speak to me? Well then, best I prepare myself for visitors …
She smiles and leans back on the chair, snapping her fingers together. A similar chair to her appears out of nowhere next to the table, as well as a tray with a porcelain tea pot and several other cups around as well as little spoons and a sugar holder, all depicting a single black rose on the surface.
Seeming pleased of herself, LeBlanc clapped her palms together twice before she tilted her head slightly, staring at the door.
Perfect~… Let them come, then.