The sound of a great clanging and clashing sent Elfhild and Elffled scrambling out of their beds in a sleep-addled panic. Alarmed and frightened, they looked all around the chamber for some sign of the danger which would surely be upon them. However, instead of some great impending peril, all they saw were the amused expressions of the other novices, who were rising from their beds and stretching the stiffness of sleep from their bodies. The bright morning sunlight streamed through the ornate lattice panels which served as screens in the windows of the dormitory. Still, the horrible noise continued, clanging up and down the hall outside their sleeping quarters, punctuated by a shrill female voice barking out orders.

"It is just Assistant Headmistress Akeya banging on the gong, telling us that it is time to get up for the day," Rufina explained as she pulled her nightgown over her head. "No need to get alarmed – you get used to it after a while."

"But not so much that you can sleep through it," another girl giggled, her voice heavy with an accent which was unfamiliar to the twins.

"I think it would be impossible to sleep through anything which sounded so bad," Elfhild grumbled, causing the other girls to laugh.

The twins had been pleased to discover that Rufina was one of their bunkmates, with her sleeping pallet located beside that of Elffled. Elfhild knew little about her own neighbor, but she surmised that she would become more familiar with her as the days went by. She hoped that the girl was friendly. She did not need any enemies, especially not one who slept beside her.

As Elfhild prepared herself for her first day in her new home, she watched the way Rufina fixed her hair and styled her school uniform. She was not sure how she should dress or behave, and she did not want to seem ignorant or out of place. These people might believe all sorts of absurd things about the people of Rohan, and Elfhild wanted to prove that the Rohirrim were just as good as the people of Nurn. After all, she was going to spend the next several years with these young women, and she wanted to be well-liked and admired. Her stomach felt filled with butterflies, and several times her trembling hands fumbled with her hair brush, almost dropping it in the floor. She could sense that her twin shared the same anxieties.

While Elffled also fretted about how the other students would perceive her, she was equally as concerned with how they, the daughters of unlettered peasants, would survive at the School of Industry. She feared they would seem out of place among these scholars, who had so much more experience than they did. Would they ever be able to catch up to the progress of their fellow students? What would happen to them if they failed at their studies? Over the course of her captivity, Elffled had survived by attempting to go as unnoticed as possible, avoiding conflict, punishment, or other forms of unpleasantness. Here, though, her lack of education would cause her to stand out, and she hated that.

After Elfhild and Elffled had finished dressing, they followed the rest of the novices to the great hall. The enormous chamber was bustling with activity as the students settled in for breakfast, the lively drone of dozens of conversations filling the air like a hive of merry bees. Suddenly, a hush fell over the hall as the discordant sound of the gong rang out in a command for silence. As the crowd waited expectantly, Assistant Headmistress Akeya strode to the edge of the raised dais situated at the northern end of the hall.

"For those who are new here, we give each day an auspicious start by giving praise to the Lord of Middle-earth," Akeya announced, clasping her hands together before her heart. "I will first sing the words of this song in Westron, and then again in the language of Mordor."

The Lord of Middle-earth rules over all
From the highest mountain to deepest hall
Gifts He gives and knowledge He bestows
To the worthy. Our loyalty we owe
To the King of Men, the Lord of the Earth
Whom we serve with rejoicing and mirth
His Eye watches over each and every one
From the crack of dawn until day is done
Songs of praise we sing, His will we obey
As we wait expectantly for the day
When He is exalted in every land
And all Middle-earth obeys His command!

As the students around them lifted up their voices in song, Elfhild and Elffled exchanged horrified glances. Was this to be their life now, forced to sing songs of adoration to the Dread Enemy at least once a day? The faces of many of their fellow students were filled with zealous devotion, while others looked stoically ahead, their wide eyes filled with fear as their trembling lips mouthed the lyrics. Some, those who were apathetic and jaded by life, seemed bored by the whole spectacle, as though the words of the paean had no more meaning than a list of specials on the menu of an orc tavern.

Slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, the atmosphere in the chamber began to change. It was as though an unseen power had begun to manifest itself in the room, growing ever stronger in might as over a hundred voices united as one. The twins felt this power pulsing around them, subtle at first like the tension in the air before a storm, and then growing in dreadful magnitude until the tempest raged all around them. For a few brief moments, they felt dizzy, as though they were about to be pulled into the whirlwind and spun out into oblivion.

And then the song ended, and all was as it had been before. Staggering slightly, Elfhild put a shaky hand to her forehead. What had just happened? She looked uncertainly at Elffled, who shook her head in confusion, equally as bewildered. Perhaps it was naught but anxiety at being in unfamiliar surroundings, combined with the crushing realization that they would have to sacrifice part of themselves if they wanted to survive in the beautiful yet oppressive land of Nurn.

As Mistress Akeya resumed her seat, a young woman wearing the uniform of an apprentice climbed up the stairs which led to the raised dais. She was tall and slender, with dark skin and raven hair. Surrounding her head like a fluffy black cloud, her bouncy, tightly coiled tresses were pulled back from her face with a bright red ribbon; a puff of fringe rested upon her forehead to frame her deep brown eyes. In her hands she held a wax tablet with notes scribbled upon it.

"I am Koairy, the school crier," the girl proclaimed, her voice ringing out loud and clear through the great hall. "It is my duty to announce the tidings of each day and keep the students informed of events which will occur throughout the week. On behalf of the school, I wish to extend a hearty welcome to all the newcomers from the North." A round of clapping and cheering went up, quickly quieting down when Koairy raised her hand for quiet. "After breakfast, the new arrivals will be given a tour of the school and introduced to the various instructors who oversee our classes and workshops. The most important news of the day, however, is that Shakh Esarhaddon arrived safely home late last night." An excited murmur coursed through the crowd, and Koairy waited patiently until the students quieted again before resuming her speech. "After their tour of the school, the new students will gather in the great hall for an assembly in which they will be formally introduced to Shakh Esarhaddon and his family. The Master will celebrate his return this evening with a grand feast, with the students from the music and dance classes performing for his pleasure. While this feast will be held at the Master's manor house, the school will be hosting its own revelry, with a variety of fine foods and entertainment provided by our fellow students. This concludes the morning's announcements." Lowering the wax tablet, Koairy bowed slightly from the waist and descended from the dais.

Their minds still reeling from being forced to perform mandatory homage to the Lord of Darkness, Elfhild and Elffled spent the rest of the breakfast meal in a state of stunned silence. Perhaps they could get away with just mouthing the words to the hymn. After all, the other students would be eager to eat breakfast, and it was unlikely that they would notice this subtle act of disobedience.

The discordant clang of the gong announced the end of the breakfast hour, and the students began lining up in preparation for the next part of their day. While the novices and apprentices prepared to go to the first class of the morning, Mistress Juna came to collect the seven young Rohirric women so that they might embark upon their tour of the school. Although many years had passed since Mistress Juna had been a maiden, she was still quite spry, and some of the new arrivals had difficulty keeping up with her as she walked.

The first stop on the tour was the weaving workshop, which was overseen by Mistress Ushbarmí. The weaving room was fairly large and was brightly lit by windows facing the courtyard and windows facing the outside. Large vertical looms had been set up along the walls; cushioned benches sat in front of them to ease the discomfort of working for long periods. Several students were working at the looms and turned to look at the newcomers, happy for a distraction from their labors.

Mistress Ushbarmí had been talking to an apprentice at one of the looms when she saw Juna and the new students. Walking briskly towards them, she bowed to the headmistress. "Welcome to the weaving room!" The plump, middle-aged woman smiled at the newcomers, her curly dark brown hair bobbing with each movement of her head. "The primary purpose of the looms is to produce cloth for the household, with the surplus being sold in the marketplace. Here we make everything from scarves to rugs."

A row of large rugs had been hung along the wall as an example of the projects that students had completed in the workshop, and Elfhild and Elffled were fascinated by the bright colors and ornate designs. They felt a comforting sense of familiarity as they watched the apprentices work at the looms. This was the world that they had known back in the Mark, far different from this strange, dark realm in which they found themselves.

After giving the new students a few moments to look around the room, Mistress Juna commanded their attention once again. "It is now time to go to our next appointment. We do not have far to go." Leaving the weaving workshop, the headmistress continued down the corridor to the next classroom, which was dedicated to needlecraft.

"Mistress Juna, how good to see you!" exclaimed Mistress Fariela, a thin, elderly woman modestly dressed in a long beige tunic and baggy brown trousers. Her thinning silver hair was tied back in a bun at the back of her head, and her light brown skin showed the spots of age. "We had been expecting you." Her long gray hair was caught up under a neat round hat embroidered with colorful stitching.

"You are looking well today," Juna remarked as she acknowledged the other woman with a slight nod of her head. "I am sure many of the new students already know how to sew and embroider, but they may be unfamiliar with the techniques of other lands."

"I doubt there is any part of the civilized world where people do not know how to embroider and sew," Fariela smiled good-naturedly. "However, students in my class learn a variety of techniques from many different regions of the South and East. Most recently we have been working on the art of mirror embroidery: the practice of incorporating tiny mirrors into the needlework." She signed to one of her students, who soon brought her a pillow. The Rohirric maidens were impressed by the heavily embroidered fabric, which was adorned with many small circular mirrors which caught the light.

"That is lovely, Mistress Fariela!" Juna exclaimed as she looked at the pillow.

"This pillow still has work to be done upon it, but I would be honored if you would accept this pillow as a gift from all of us when it is finished." Fariela beamed proudly.

"I would be delighted!" replied Juna. "Such a kind gesture will always hold a special place in my heart." As soon as she had seen the beautiful pillow, she had hoped that Fariela would offer to give it to her. After all, really, it was her due as headmistress. She turned to address the Rohirric maidens. "While Mistress Fariela and I visit, you may explore the needlecraft room."

While the twins knew how to sew and embroider, they were amazed at the intricate floral designs that the apprentices were embroidering upon large rectangular frames. Back in Rohan, beautiful tapestries such as these would have hung from the walls in the keeps of thanes, denied from the view of lowly peasants.

"Elfhild! Elffled!"

The twins turned their attention away from the embroidered tapestries as they heard their names being called.

"Nurma!" Elfhild exclaimed when she spotted Nurma among the needlecraft students. The senior apprentice was embroidering beautiful red roses upon a vest. The thick threads had a luminescent quality, causing the flowers to appear almost real, kissed by the early morning dew. Elfhild moved closer, admiring her work. "I have never seen anything like that!"

"So you find this style of embroidery interesting?" Nurma's brown eyes met Elfhild's as she looked up from the cloth.

"Very much," Elfhild replied, nodding her head.

"I have been doing this since I was a child," Nurma replied, turning back to her embroidery. "The reason that Shakh Esarhaddon bought me was for my skills in needlecraft."

"Do not keep her too long, Nurma," Mistress Fariela called from a loom nearby.

"Yes, Mistress," answered Nurma, bowing her head. After the weaving instructor turned back to her conversation with the headmistress, Nurma jabbed the needle into the cloth and gave Elfhild a mysterious smile. "I make dolls, too. Clever little dolls. Some of them are very pretty, while others are not. Some say they can recognize features of people they know in their faces. Of course, that is just their imagination. They are only dolls made from scrap cloth, nothing of any value. I give some of them to others." She looked to Elfhild, and her plain round face seemed to glow with a strange beauty for a brief few seconds.

"Oh!" Elfhild replied, scarcely knowing what to say. Her mind took her back to Gorgoroth, where she remembered the cook's strange daughters, who stuck needles in dolls and then burned them.

"You look frightened," Nurma dropped her voice. "You need not be. They are only little dolls, after all. Nothing more, nothing less." She raised her voice again and smiled. "If you choose to attend the needlework class, we will see more of each other. There is much I could teach you if you are willing to learn. Embroidery, dolls, and… other things." With a clever lift of her eyebrows, she tilted her head downward slightly, the corners of her lips turned up in a mysterious smile.

"Hild!" Mistress Juna called sternly, her voice jolting the girls. "Come along! We do not have all day. There is still much for you to see here."

"Yes, Mistress," Elfhild answered humbly.

"It was good seeing you again, Hild," Nurma told her. "I have a feeling we will see a lot of each other."

"I would like to learn this kind of embroidery… and perhaps other things as well." Her heart pounding, Elfhild dashed away to catch up with the other novices, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

At the far end of the school, located adjacent to the bathhouse, was the kitchen. Although there were some students who were dedicated to studying the culinary arts, each student took turns working in the kitchen as part of their training. The cook, a plump gingery blonde who went by the nickname of Saffron, instructed the new students in how to make a dip from cooked chickpeas, olive oil, lemon juice, and cinnamon. After the dip was finished, the girls were given small pieces of bread so that they could sample their creation.

Although there was a healer in the nearby village of Blûgund, so many students resided at the School of Industry that Esarhaddon felt it was best for the school to have a dedicated healer. The infirmary was located beside the kitchen so that both facilities could use the supplies of the other if needed. The healer, an older woman named Maren, demonstrated the first steps involved in making a soothing salve for minor cuts and scratches, burns, and stings. Taking fresh yarrow that had been plucked from the courtyard garden, she chopped up the plants and then added them to a jar which she then filled with oil. She explained that the yarrow would need to sit for several weeks before it was ready for the next steps, which would be to strain the oil and then pour the yarrow infusion into melted beeswax to create the salve.

Leaving the infirmary, Mistress Juna led the new students into the courtyard, where a solidly built woman clad in light armor gave them a hearty welcome. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her tanned face and secured in a braided bun; her almond-shaped eyes held a look of confidence, and her square jaw gave her an appearance of determination. She introduced herself as Zora, Mistress of the Fighting Arts. The twins recognized her as the guard who had presided over the sparring matches the previous evening. Mistress Zora explained that she taught a variety of combat styles, from wrestling to fighting with sword and buckler. Several of her pupils were present, and she instructed them to perform a wrestling demonstration for the new students.

After the west side of the courtyard had been thoroughly explored, it was time to move on to the east side. Though there were considerably fewer rooms on this side, they were much larger. The first room Mistress Juna and her small entourage came to was the chamber of art, a fascinating room to behold. Shelves and tables supported projects upon which the students were working. There were small, colorful paintings depicting everyday life: ladies in beautiful gowns, an ensemble of musicians in performance, dancing girls at a party. Other paintings depicted public spectacles such as parades and festivals, as well as more peaceful scenes from the Nurnian countryside. Some showed events of historical significance and scenes from Mordorian mythology.

The art instructor was a slender, graceful woman who appeared to be in her late fifties, with warm brown skin that was delicately lined with age. She had wrapped a colorful scarf around her tightly coiled chestnut hair to keep it away from her face, and she wore a well-used apron over her tunic to protect it from paint and ink splatters. After introducing herself as Mistress Neshinara, she showed the students a book whose black leather cover was gilded with gold filigree; the insides of the cover were lined with marbled paper. "This is a book of poetry which will be given to Shakh Esarhaddon's honorable mother," Mistress Neshinara explained. "All of the work you see here was done by the students under my tutelage."

Every page of the book boasted a palette of brilliant colors, the intensity of the shades complimented by strategically placed gilding. Many pages were framed by gilded borders which resembled starbursts, and often these borders served to frame other borders which had been painted in contrasting colors and designs. Other pages featured paintings depicting scenes from some story or legend. Sometimes the illustrations filled the entirety of the page, while other pages featured smaller images surrounded by text. Occasionally illustrations replaced the floral and geometric designs which composed the decorative borders which framed many of the pages. Coming from peasant villages, many of the Rohirric girls had never seen the inside of a book in their lives, and those from more wealthier families had never seen a book of such extraordinary beauty.

Elfhild and Elffled were sad when Mistress Juna led them away from the art room, but their disappointment was short lived, for the next stop on the tour was the music room. To show the newcomers the wide diversity of musical instruments and singing styles taught in the class, a small ensemble of students played a short set of traditional Nurnian and Haradric songs. The instructor was Mistress Dariya, who was young and petite, with rosy peach skin and dark hair, and almond-shaped doe eyes of russet brown. Her face had one flaw – a nose that was slightly too long – but the rest of her features were so charming that they made up for that. She wore a green striped gown over yellow pantaloons, and a small golden cap upon her head. Her demeanor was pleasant and cheery, and she gave off an air of effervescent confidence. It was obvious that she loved music and was eager to impart her enthusiasm to her pupils, most of whom immediately liked her. She told the new students the history of each song, and explained that the school taught a more formal style of music than that practiced in the villages and city streets of Nurn.

In the next room, a group of students practiced dance moves to music played by a trio of student musicians on lute, zither, and drums. There were eight dancers in all, arranged in two rows of four. Their arms stretching towards the heavens, the dancers rose up on their toes and gracefully lowered themselves back down, undulating their bodies as though their spines had become serpents. One arm lowering as though beckoning to the audience, the dancers turned to the side, supporting their weight upon their left legs as they showcased a variety of isolated movements using their right hips.

The dance teacher was a woman named Linnet, who had creamy beige skin and long, wavy black hair which was crowned by a fancy cap adorned with feathers and tiny golden chains. "Dancing is very important here in Nurn, both for social occasions and religious ceremonies," she explained. "We will teach you the basics of dance, but you can always pursue your studies if you wish to learn more. There is a troupe of dancers here at the school, but you have to pass your apprenticeship and prove yourselves to be extraordinarily talented in order to be accepted."

After leaving the dance class, Juna led the novices to a large, pleasant room with the sunlight slanting through the windows. "You should be grateful to be students at the School of Industry, for not only will you receive an education and learn various crafts, but you also have the opportunity to study the performing arts." The headmistress' expression was slightly perturbed, and she blinked at the sunlight, the glare bothering her nearsighted eyes. "Now I will turn you all over to Sa-li, the Theater Mistress. I know absolutely nothing about acting and really do not want to know, but the student actresses here at the school put on some very exciting plays."

"Mistress Juna, what a delight to see you here, and your pretty doves." Sa-li walked over to the group and bowed to Juna.

Elfhild could not help but stare at the Mistress of the Theatre. Her scarlet gown boasted a scandalously low-cut neckline, and her huge breasts appeared as though they might burst forth from her bodice at any moment. Her dress was tight and form fitting, hugging the curves of her body, which was shaped like a voluptuous hourglass. Her rich, dark hair was curled and hung in long ringlets about her face and fell down over her shoulders and back. Her ivory cheeks were stained with rouge; her lips were painted ruby red; and her hazel green eyes were lined with kohl. When she moved, it was with a dancer's catlike grace, and the fragrant scent of flowers mixed with spices followed her nimble footsteps. Elfhild felt a mixture of awe and intimidation in the presence of this outrageous woman.

"Sa-li, this light has given me a terrible headache, and all this walking has stirred up a terrible thirst. I am going to sit down on the divan over there and try to recuperate. If you would just have the servants bring me some refreshments, I would be so grateful." Juna walked with as much grace as she could muster with her sore, aching feet. Inwardly, she cursed the lithe dancing instructor and the shoemaker who had made her dainty shoes slightly too narrow.

"Certainly, Mistress. Your wish is my command." She bowed low, pressing her hand to her heart. After Juna had settled comfortably upon the divan, Sa-li turned to the newcomers. "My, what a lovely group of students!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I am sure there must be some fine talent here for the theatre. While some might insist that it is a learned art, it is my firm belief that some people are born with the gift of performing." She paused for a moment as she looked at each young woman in the assembly. "I see doubts on the faces of some of you. To you I say this: Do not be afraid to try, for you may have talents that you did not know."

Sa-li was an affable woman, filled with great passion for her craft and an exuberance which was highly contagious, and the new students found themselves beginning to like the gregarious theatre instructor. "For those of you who have ever yearned to be an actress, you will have your chance to audition for any number of roles in our upcoming play, 'The Dissatisfied Prince,' a serial which runs the course of seven days. It is about a young sultan who, when told by his astrologers that he is fated to die prematurely, embarks upon an epic journey in the hopes of changing his destiny. The main characters are the prince, of course; a mute young man; a princess; and a pirate captain. Of course, some of you will have to play the parts of the men." She gave a chuckle, which the girls found infectious, and they giggled merrily.

Sa-li had become so enthusiastic that she was waving her well-manicured hands about in the air and was getting quite out of breath after her long speech. "Darlings, I am just about finished, but I will give you this piece of advice before I quit. Do not be afraid to audition! None of us are professionals. The only requirement is that you have some acting talent and are willing to try." She gave them a radiant smile. "By the way, Shakh Esarhaddon loves a good play... if that tells you anything."

The tour concluded, Mistress Juna escorted the Rohirric students back to the great hall, where Esarhaddon and his family were waiting. It felt strange to be meeting the powerful merchant lord's wives and children at last. Of course, Elfhild and Elffled already knew Goldwyn, for she had lived in their village back in the Eastfold. They also knew that she hated Esarhaddon, and they wondered why he had ever insisted upon making her his concubine when it was so obvious that she despised him. While the other two wives gazed upon Esarhaddon with adoring eyes, Goldwyn looked as though she wanted to murder the man and then dance upon his grave.

"Welcome to my villa," Esarhaddon remarked jovially as he addressed the seven young women from Rohan. "What a lovely sight you all make! Over the long journey to Nurn, I closely observed all of the slaves in my care, and decided that the seven of you showed the most promise. While you will spend most of your time engaged in study at the School of Industry, occasionally you will be summoned to my manor to attend the needs of my family. These are my wives, Shumeeren and Anúrnissa." He gestured towards the two women, who smiled benevolently at the new students. "Some of you may already be acquainted with my new concubine, Goldwyn, who also hails from Rohan." Looking utterly mortified, Goldwyn stood there stiffly, her face set in a grimace. "My sons, Abaru and Kabtu, are the pride and joy of my life." He beamed at the two young boys who stood at his side.

"I have impressed upon these new students the great honor it is for them to have been chosen to attend the School of Industry," Mistress Juna proclaimed, beaming with pride. "Students, you may now introduce yourselves to the Master's family."

After the Rohirric girls had finished their introductions, Kabtu walked over to Elfhild and Elffled, looked up at them for a few moments with his fists planted upon his hips, and then remarked, "You two look a lot alike."

"That is because we are twins, young master," Elfhild replied, trying to keep her smile of amusement modestly sized.

The little boy took another long look at the twins, as though he was uncertain if his eyes told him the truth. "I have never met anyone who is a twin before."

"Well, now you have," Elffled giggled. "You will probably meet other twins one day. We are not all that uncommon."

"Kabtu, these students need to return to the school," Esarhaddon gently admonished. "We should not keep them any longer, for this is their first day, and they have much to learn."

A look of disappointment upon his face, the little boy ran back to Esarhaddon's side. "Perhaps I can see them again later, Father?" His big, brown eyes were filled with eager hope.

"We shall see," Esarhaddon chuckled.