"...And you just let them?  ...No, Void take it, you were probably right to, Marcus, but who would do that?  Did they tell you anything?"

Esmerelda Dawnchaser, Knight-Hospitaller, turns from receiving a quiet 'They said she doesn't understand language', to the five-year-old human child in her infirmary.

"...Hey there," she crouches down and waves.  "I'm Esme," she taps herself.  "I heard your name is Desta," she makes a similar gesture towards the child, but doesn't touch her.  Once bitten, twice shy, and all.  "Esme," she repeats the gesture, "Desta," and once more points to the child.  "Did I get that right?"

"Desa," she nods, after a moment.

Esme nods back.  "It's nice to meet you, Desta."

'"Doesn't understand language" my foot.  If there's a problem it's something else.'

"I'm a healer, Desta.  Do you know what that means?  ...You can just nod or shake your head if you want."

It again takes her a moment to respond, and the look on her face is more confusion with a hint of wariness than incomprehension per se.

'Definitely not a problem of not understanding me.  She knows what I'm saying.  But that - delayed reaction - is odd...  I'll have to see if we know anything about that.'

"...You don't?  Or you aren't sure?  Okay.  I'm a healer.  It means I can do magic that makes people who are sick or hurt feel better.  I'd like to make sure you're not sick or hurt.  ...Is there anywhere that hurts, right now?  You can just nod, if something does hurt, or shake your head, if nothing does, or you can point at what's hurting."  (If Desta continues to communicate, Esme will continue down her list of things to ask, such as 'are you bleeding', 'do you have a cough or a fever', and so on.)

She doesn't particularly respond to this, except for a glance at the door her mother left through that may or may not be related.

'...Oh, shhhhsugar biscuits.  This is going to be one of those conversations.'

"...You're busy thinking about something else right now, huh?  That's alright."

If she could, she would absolutely be interrogating Marcus for all he's worth about what this kid overheard, but she can't.  Especially not in front of the kid!

"...Is what you're thinking about something I could help with?"  She pauses, giving enough room and a little bit more for an answer.  "Something Marcus could help with?"  She points at the somewhat skittish man with a clipboard.  "Or do you just want to think about it on your own?"

She follows the gesture to look at Marcus - without a delay this time - and takes a few steps in that direction, then looks back to see if that's what's wanted of her.

Oh.

...This is horribly outside her remit.  But she's still going to do her best.

She shakes her head, and beckons the kid back over.

'Now how to communicate this...'

She points at Desta, taps her ear, and shakes her head no.  She points at Desta, taps her mouth, and shakes her head again.  She - grabs the clipboard from Marcus, flips the paperwork over so it's blank, and writes 'Can you read?', before offering it to Desta.

It's obvious that the answer to that is yes even before she nods.

'That's good.  Can you write?'

This time she gives Desta the clipboard and the pen.

She'll demonstrate that she doesn't have the dexterity to hold the pen.

She requests the pen and clipboard back.  'Okay.  We'll figure something out.  I want to make sure you can tell people things when you want to.  If I write the alphabet, could you point to it to spell words?'

"Yeh."

'That's good.'

"Marcus, can you go get us a blank sheet of paper and a spare clipboard?  We can give yours back after, but Desta does actually have problems hearing and speaking."

"I - ah - yes, of course -"  Marcus zooms off.

'He'll be back in a minute; he's getting us some paper and another clipboard so we don't keep needing his stuff.'

She nods at this and glances at the door again.

And here comes Marcus again!  He looks rather flustered.  "Here, this should work?"  (He's brought several pieces of paper, in fact.)

"It should, I hope."

She fills out the alphabet, but - noticing that there is still space left on the paper - continues on with a few words and phrases.  "Yes, no, I don't know, ?/Question, I/me, You, They, Need, Want, Food, Water, Bathroom, Help, Hurt, Sick" - and she leaves some of the spaces she could fill, empty.  She's going to ask the kid what she should put there.

...She should probably demonstrate.  Desta's a clever kid, but clearly nobody's been trying to work with her before, instead of around her.  (...If nothing else, it will help Esme learn how to read this contraption.)  'D-O-E-S T-H-I-S L-O-O-K G-O-O-D Question'.

"Yeh."

'M-A-M-A Question Question'

...Fuck.  It is this conversation.

She's going to write this down, on a different sheet of paper.  Spelling it out would be - positively torturous.

'...I wish I could tell you I think she will come back for you.  If I did, though, I fear I would be lying.  She brought you to an orphanage - where kids who don't have parents, or whose parents can't take care of them at all, go.  If you want us to try and find your parents, we can try that.  But I don't know if they'd let us put you in their care again - or if we should do that, because leaving you here like that isn't a good sign about your mama's ability to be a good parent.'

"Mm," noncommittally.

...Hm.

'...Do I need to use different words?  I'm not sure you understood what I wrote.'

She relaxes considerably. "Yeh."

'If that happens again, if I say something - write something - that confuses you, you can tap "I Don't Know" and the words you don't know, okay?'

'...There's no good way to say this, so, I'm sorry.  Your mama left you here.  I don't think she's going to come back, because this place is a place for kids who don't have mamas or papas, or anyone else who can take care of them.  We can try to find your mama - or your papa; do you have a papa? - but, since they left you here, I'm not sure they'd take you back, and - I'm worried that if they did, they might hurt you.'

She taps 'do you have a papa?' and  'yes', and after another moment 'find your mama' and 'no' and wraps her arms around herself.

She nods.  Taps 'Question find papa', pretty much expecting a 'no'.

(...She's going to need more word sheets.  Maybe some kind of arcane widget.)

That gets a headshake and a "no", yeah.

"Hug?"

She nods, and offers a hug.

Gods, this kid needs one.  She kind of does too.

She really does, yeah. She clings and doesn't really relax into it.

...Oh, her heart.

Does gentle backpatting help?  She would try soothing noises but she's pretty sure that wouldn't work as intended, here.  (She's just going to let this hug go on until either An Emergency or until the kid wants to stop.)

The backpatting doesn't seem to hurt, at least.

She clings for a couple minutes before she lets go; she's not crying but it's obviously a near thing.

'I-T-S O-K-A-Y T-O C-R-Y'

...Let it out, here and now, so it doesn't sneak up later.  Even though it probably will.

Well that just sounds fake.

...

'I C-R-Y T-O-O'

She blinks, and the tears that were watering in her eyes, fall.

'I-T-S O-K-A-Y'

She backs up a step and chews on her lip.

...She's not going to push.

She will, however, very visibly busy herself with writing something, for a bit.

'...Is there anything you can tell me about why - hearing and, I'm guessing, speaking, don't always work, for you?  Like what tends to make it happen?  I have a couple guesses, but I don't want to guess wrong.  And depending on what's wrong, we might be able to find something that will help you.'

She taps 'I don't know' and gestures to the latest block of text as a whole, but then taps 'why', 'hearing', 'don't always work', 'L-O-U-D B-U-S-Y H-U-R-T'.

She nods.

'I'm not sure what you need me to explain about that last bit?'

'...I have some ideas for how we might be able to keep things from being too loud for you.  It will take a few days, though, for most of them, and some might take weeks, so - while I'm working on that, I wanted to ask if there's any other words you want to have on this board?  I'll write them for you.'

She reads at least some of it, but taps 'I don't know' and gestures at the whole thing, again, and takes a step back and sits crosslegged on the floor and looks at her knees.

...Okay, she's clearly Done.  Alright.  She can understand that.  "Okay.  That's okay.  Sorry."

She's going to add 'Too much' to the wordboard, if it's been set down, and then...

To be honest, she really hasn't been trained for this as much as she'd have liked, and then the circumstances are exacerbating precisely the everything she wasn't trained for and also causing what knowledge she has to clash with itself.  ...Right now, she kind of still needs to do basic precautionary healing, but that would also be a horrible idea to do without buy-in, because Desta has probably had so much more than enough of people just Doing Things to her without so much as a by-your-leave.

She flips the paper she's writing on over, to hopefully avoid stressing this poor child's processing too much again.

I'm sorry.  That was too much.

I'm bad at talking to you.  That's my fault.

Let's leave that stuff alone until I am good at talking to you.  It can wait.

There is one thing I need to ask now, though.

It's my job, as a healer, to make sure nobody gets sick. 

I want to cast some spells on you, to make sure you're not sick.

May I do that, please?

She leaves that message for when Desta's ready for it, and - assuming Desta doesn't immediately answer - starts a quiet conversation with Marcus about where to room Desta, while they look for a fostering.  (Yes, Esme is invested, but that can't be true of the entire staff, and at least one is probably going to be an ass.  That's how people are.  ...To say nothing of some of the children.  Far better for everyone, she suspects, that Desta not be so consistently exposed to that sort of risk from sheer volume - there are so many children here, and she's particularly vulnerable.)

...Other things that go on the todo-list include 'recover Desta's personal effects', because there's no way she only had the clothes on her back - they're in too good repair.

It doesn't take her all that long to decide to read the new note, and then she goes over to tug Esme's pant leg and tap 'not sick,' 'spells,' "otay."

Then Esme will say "Thank you," and concentrate, and there will be a brief swirl of Light around Desta, and any diseases that think they can hijack Desta will be so one with existence that they stop existing as independent entities!

(It doesn't really feel like much, from Desta's perspective.)

'You're not sick', she taps!

You're done with stuff that needs a healer.

I have to stay here.  Someone else might need a healer.

Can you follow Marcus, please?  He will take you to the people who are going to take care of you, while you're here.

"Otay." Follow follow?

Indeed.

...Does Desta have any objections to elevators?

Nope.

Then, after Marcus swipes his identification card over the sensor-circle to activate the controls, they will head up a few floors.

"Ah, hello there, Marcus - and hello to you too, child," comes the voice of the woman who meets them at the landing, with a smile and a wave; if Desta has ever met her grandparents, this woman looks about as timeworn.  "I'll be with you in just a moment.  Marcus - the healer mentioned special circumstances?  Knowing Esme, there's bound to be a report on its way just as soon as she's finished writing it, but what can you tell me about what she needs?"  ...The clipboard she can't help but notice this new child holding on to looks as though it might have something to do with it.

"...She can read, and only sometimes hear, but she cannot write - or, she cannot hold a pen, that's all we tried yet - nor has she yet spoken beyond yes-or-no, or her name.  Esme wanted to send her somewhere quiet; I think that's related to why."

"...I see.  That should be something we can work with."

Ah, and there's the intake paperwork.

Now for introductions.  Properly this time.

...The paper is appreciated, Marcus; she has a pencil.

'Hello, Desta.  My name is Giselda Mirren.  Most of the kids I care for call me Miss Mirren or Miss G, because Giselda is hard to say.  I'm one of the people who will take care of you, while you're here.'

"Otay."

'When we go inside, I'm going to tell the other kids your name, and a little bit about you.'

'Is there anything that you want me to say?  Or anything you want me to not say?'

She shrugs.

'Alright.'

'Do you want me to tell the other kids to not bother you until after lunch?  There's some kids who will just run up and start asking questions, if I don't.'

That's not really going to help with a new group of kids figuring out that she can't talk, but she's not exactly looking forward to that, she'll take the opportunity to put it off. "Yeh."

She nods.

'You can come in now, or wait here until I tell the other kids.'

And once she's handed that to Desta, she'll walk to the door and place her hand on the handle, waiting.

...she'll wait.

Then Giselda will enter the room alone; Desta sees a flash of colorfully-painted walls, and hears children playing, as the door swings shut.

She rings a bell, a single 'donnnggg' that speaks over the noise.  "If I could have everyone's attention, please!"

And she waits, the children turning to her.

"I have an announcement to make.

"Today, we will be welcoming another child here; her name is Desta.  Be kind to her.

"She has trouble speaking and hearing, trouble healing can't fix, so you will need to use your reading and writing skills to talk to her.  And I know some of you are excited, and you want to ask her questions, but she doesn't want to answer them right now, okay?  Please don't bother her."

"Did everyone understand that?  If you need me to repeat something, or if you have any other questions, please raise your hand."

"Does she have a favorite book?"

"...Wait until I call on you, Alicia.  I didn't ask her that, and you will be patient and polite and wait until after lunch to ask her yourself."

Aww...

There's a couple more questions in the crowd.

"Clara?"

"Umm...  You said she doesn't want to answer questions, but does she want to play?"

"...I'll let her know you asked, dear."

"Thankyou Miss G!"

"...Opal?"

"Whose room is she going to stay in?"

"We're going to give her some time to make friends before we decide on that, Opal."

Though given how Opal is with some of the other kids, she has a feeling that at least one room will be volunteering itself.

"...Anyone else?"

Looks like nobody.

Well, then.  That's that.

It's been a few minutes; Giselda opens the door again and passes Desta a note.  'One of the kids - Clara, I'll point her out to you once we're inside - asked if you wanted to play.'

"You can go now, Marcus, I've got her."

She'll follow her in, then, sticking close as she looks around the room.

The walls are adorned with flowering plants, low to the ground; many of the flowers have handprint-shaped petals that are obviously a child's doing.  The floors are carpeted.  The common area has two big long tables; there's a few kids at each, doing things like coloring or practicing their handwriting or reading books, while the rest are - well, there's presently some kind of quiet conference going on in a far corner, but there's kids building a blocky castle, an ongoing game of jacks, and one kid's just flopped out on the floor, reading something silently.

There's a desk sized for adults in one corner, and a similarly adult-sized soft chair in another - that's playing host to ambitious construction, at present.  Along the side walls are doors with names on them at kid-height, most with names that were clearly written by their kids, but some that weren't.  (There's also a 'Quiet Room' and a 'Loud Room', on the sides.)  There's three bathrooms - two in the walls behind Desta as she enters, and one in the far wall where rooms with names including 'Miss Giselda' are.

There are also framed placards with rules and guidelines on them, scattered about where they're relevant - for example, there's one next to a toy chest, and one next to the short bookshelf.  Everything also has labels - words and pictures, joined together.

Giselda points out one of the kids that's playing jacks.  "That's Clara."

Well jacks is a definite no when she can't pick up any of the pieces. She'll go read the various signage, how about.

Lots of "Sharing is caring!" and "Remember, these are for everyone!" and "Don't leave messes for other people please!" messaging to go around, there.

It seems like there's also some other places she can go, in the building, if she asks permission first and has 'her rune-key'?  There's a bigger library that's mentioned, at least.

She needs to get that, actually, and write a note explaining what it does.

Desta might notice that all the kids have a bracelet or a necklace, with the same sort of stone and pattern, but different numbers and letters on it.

This is your rune-key.  It's a magic item.  If you haven't used a magic item before, let me know.  I'll help you attune it.

Your rune-key does a few different things.

It pairs with a chest like the ones in the bedrooms, so that only your key can open it.

(If someone has already paired their key with a chest, it will blink red.)

It lets you open the door and use the elevator, if you have permission.

And most importantly, when we're outside, it lets me know where you are, and it lets you know where I am, so you don't get lost.

It's important that you keep it with you all the time, so we have bracelets and necklaces that you can wear it on.

Please let me know which one you'd like.

Read read.

'Necklaces,' she taps.

Then she will have a little chain to wear the rune-key on!

Sure, she'll do that.

She goes back to reading the signs, and if nothing else has happened by the time she's done with them she'll go assess the block castle situation to see if she can join in.

The little knot of kids in the corner has broken up; one of them has moved to the table and started writing something, and the others are talking to other kids - but that doesn't have much to do with the block castle.

One of the kids - they're perched on the big chair - waves.

Another one looks around and then runs off to get some paper.

If it doesn't look like she's going to get run off from the block castle, she'll get some blocks and join in.

She's not very good at making stable structures, which quickly becomes pretty obvious.

Oop!  Yeah, that didn't look very stacked up straight...

...And she doesn't look very happy about it.

The kid with the paper scribbles down a question.

'Um, would you like some help?'

That's new.

Uh.

Uh?

Uh.

"...yeh?"

"Okay!  Um..."

Paper scribble.

'You give me the blocks and point where they should go, maybe?'

Well that's not playing with the blocks at all, is it. She'll go do something else, how about.

...Okay!  Darn.  "...Bye!"

There's book girl?

And the bookshelf in general.

There's also some worksheets.

The game of jacks looks to be being put away.

Worksheets require holding a pen but she knows how to manage a book, more or less. She picks out something likely-looking and finds a spot a little ways away from the other reader.

She looks over and smiles.

(There are a few copies of every book on the shelves.  This girl's book is not one of them, because there aren't any duplicates to be found.)

Book!  Books are great.

Also wiggles.

Meanwhile...

"...yes, the kid's name is Desta Moonflower, I don't have her parents' full names..."

"...Hey, Sam?  Can you do me a favor and run this to the Speaker that's doing their career presentation today?  I want a consult from them.  ...No, you accurséd gossip, not like that, I haven't even met them, it's a magic thing.  We have a new kid and they need help I can't give them on my own.  If we had an enchanter I'd be asking them too.  ...Thanks, Sam, I owe you one - one reasonably-sized favor."

"Speaker Hartley, thank you for coming to see me..."

And now it is lunchtime.

Giselda passes Desta a note.

'It is lunchtime; I am going to ring a bell, and then we are going to go to the cafeteria in small groups to get our food.  We will come back here to eat it.  We normally group everyone by their rooms; you will go with Alicia's room today.  Alicia is the girl you're reading with.'

'One of the other adults who take care of this group will start doing that after lunch is over.  I will make sure you meet them before I stop.'

And then there is a very emphatic (but not exactly loud) 'ting!', as she rings the meal bell.

"It's time for lunch, everyone; group up in front of your doors.  Desta will be going with room 3 for right now."

She startles a little at the bell, even with the warning, but gets up and joins Alicia's group.

Ooh yay!  Book friend!

Uh, sure?

...Oh, hello there.  All moves according to her design-- She's (preemptively) glad to be of help.

...Ah, yes.  She does have paper.  Er, paper that's not already in use for something else.  'Hi, I'm Opal.  The people who give us food at the cafeteria might want you to talk to them.  If you stay next to me I can talk to them instead, and you can just point at what you want or something.  Alicia does that sometimes when she's feeling really shy.  You don't have to, though.'

(They aren't the first group moving, today - it seems they're near the middle.)

Huh. "Yeh."

...actually that's really unusually nice of this kid, she'll put in some extra effort. If, y'know, the situation doesn't move on without her while she's mustering it.

Opal beams happily at Desta!

...she's a bit nonplussed at the additional social pressure but she's kind of committed now.

"Tank."

...Yay!

'Thank you!  I like helping!'

She may be vibrating with joy; she's a bit occupied showing Desta her message to properly express that, though!

Opal is acting weird, and that's a stronger predictor of trouble than being nice is of its absence.

Not that she knows what to do with that, so she'll just stand there awkwardly.

...Opal, she can feel you vibrating from over here.

...Sigh.  She'll probably have to put down her book.  The sacrifices she makes for her friends.

She nudges the other girl gently, and says - "Opal.  Too loud."

And then she applies Firm Hug.  That tends to get her less...  Flyaway.

...Oh.  Yeah.  ...Right.  Now that she is once again firmly contained in her own skin...  Looks like it's time for lunch?

...huh.

She follows the group to the lunchroom. Observant bystanders may note that she's orienting herself more to Alicia than to Opal, though with any luck they'll stay close enough together that it's a subtle difference.

With Alicia following Opal like a duckling, the difference is quite small indeed.

Unfortunately, the cafeteria, for all that it is not, actually, where people are eating, gets rather loud and chaotic nonetheless - people serving things and the sounds of cooking and food carts trundling and people talking in line combine to make a din, especially with the acoustics of the place.

This does not stop Opal from walking directly to the line the other kids their age are in and copying things down from the board that says 'TODAY'S MENU' on it (for the benefit of the staff who go through here, as much as anybody) onto her piece of paper.

...Goodness.  Opal is going to grow up to be quite something, someday, if she continues to be this determined about it.

Yeah, yeah, the painful chaos, we've all seen it this is worse than anything her old kindergarten ever asked her to put up with, actually. She continues following Opal but quickly has her shoulders up around her ears and her hands covering them.

...hm.  That's not good.

(Alicia doesn't like it here either, but not quite to that extent.)

...But what can she possibly do about this?  She's not a mage; she ran into arcane theory in her youth and bounced right off.  And that's probably what she'd need to make things less loud for Desta.  ...Perhaps one of her colleagues knows enough to help, for all that they're busy and she can't leave her kids to go looking.

(If she'd known beforehand that this would happen, she would have asked her relief to take this batch; Niriel Cethena, for all that she would protest the description and say things like 'I didn't graduate from the Academy' and 'I can barely cast class-two spells' and 'you know that that's not actually how being like me works, right', definitely has the eyes of a mage (according to Giselda).)

(To say Niriel Cethena has 'the eyes of a mage' is both true and false: true because due to a quirk of fate or wild coincidence she was born with a heightened ability to exert her will on reality relative to baseline - one that is reflected in her glowing eyes - but false because those are not just mages' eyes, even if that is the most common path for people like her in the Kingdom of Villarosa.  Niriel Cethena, by temperament, is most like a druid, for all that she is too busy with important work to study that craft.)

There are some hobbyist mages and enchanters amongst the staff, regardless of Niriel's circumstances.  Benevolent coincidence appears to have fetched Giselda's group up next to one of them - a man who weaves enchantments into his knitting.

"...Excuse me, but - Arthur?  I'm sure you're just as busy as I am, but - I don't suppose there's anything you could do to help with -" she gestures at Desta, in lieu of spelling everything out.

"...I can try, at least."

His fingers twitch through a series of somatic components as he attempts to invert some basic enchantments that make sound into a temporary spell to suppress it.  ...Thank goodness Esme had already asked him about this sort of problem, it's fresh on his mind - was this why?

...It might not last as long as he'd like, but it might last long enough regardless.  Now he just needs to deliver it -

...Opal is watching him.  Suspiciously.  You're not supposed to touch people without their permission!  Even if - okay it looks like he isn't doing that.  And it sounds like he's trying to help.  But still!

"Ask nicely!  ...Wait.  Um.  I'll do that."

There's a menu on the side of the paper that Opal shows Desta, but she's pointing to 'Miss G asked this man if he could help with the noise.  Do you want him to?'

It takes her a minute to orient enough to read the note, but when she's done she nods.

Then, with the characteristic purple glow of active (and otherwise ~unaspected) arcane magic, the sounds that reach her ears are stilled.

Things may not be completely silent - the magic does not reach inside her to interrupt the things that process sounds at any point, merely stilling the membrane that collects them - but it is quiet.

...um?

...yes?

He turns to Opal.  "Ah, may I borrow -" Opal folds the paper over and passes it blank-half-up to him.

'Is something wrong?  What should have just happened, is, there is a thing in your ear which moves when sounds hit it, and I just made it impossible for sound to move that thing for a few minutes.  That should mean that most of the noise is gone.

You might still feel some sounds, because sound is, eventually, just things shaking, and I can't stop your body from doing that.

That's all I can do that might help, right now.

If this is worse than the noise, I can remove it.'

Ohhh.

'For a few minutes', she taps, and then gestures vaguely; she didn't know that part!

'...Oh!  Yes, it won't last very long.  It just can't; I'm not that powerful a mage.  And even if I was that powerful, I wouldn't turn off someone's ears for too long without much more asking!

'I'm sorry, though - I still should have tried to tell you that before I did the spell, but I didn't know how to tell you things until your friend here demonstrated, and you looked like you were hurting.'

'If the spell does last long enough that you want it gone before it stops, you can just turn it off, like you're turning off an enchantment - except that once it's 'turned off' it's gone forever, because it falls apart.

'If you do want to try that, I can cast the spell again, afterwards.'

She reads.

She's a fast reader for a five year old, but that's not the same as being actually fast, and it hasn't at any point occurred to her to get out of the path of traffic.

Things aren't moving that quickly, being as the line is full of children and there's only so many people who can dish up food at a time.

And if she's been keeping together with the rest of the group so far, Opal has been shuffling them along when the occasion arises.

Fortunately she's used to navigating the painful chaos by way of following lines of kids, and has been shuffling along with her without especially noticing herself doing it.

"Otay", she says, when she's done, and then makes a face, because that's even weirder than the unexpected deafness.

...He needs to mind his kids through the line, now.

Opal, if she can have the paper back, would like to point out the menu, now that they're next in line.

(The offerings here are simple fare, being as they're bulk cooking, but there are generally a couple of choices for each - well, what Earth would call a major food group.  Children in Desta's age group pick exactly one item - no less, and no more - out of each set, and may have a small dessert (at their caregivers' discretion), unless they have special dietary requirements.)

She only winds up holding the line up a little bit, figuring out which thing in each category seems the most familiar and pointing them out to Opal.

She's seen worse.

The spell wears off while they're taking the elevator back up.

...It is now Alicia's turn to be, well, V I B R A T I N G, because there was magic and that was cool and she is going to be the Best Mage when she grows up, though she's doing an admirable job of keeping a lid on it right now.  (And maybe if she gets Miss Giselda to let her learn how actual casting works she can cast that spell when Desta needs it!  Or, well, if she does, too, now that she's thinking about it.  If things are that bad for Desta, and Desta reminds her of her, then maaaaaybe particularly loud noises are not supposed to be experienced as physical pressure?)

(...Though, that's also how sound works...)

(Ow.)

...okay, she's going to ask.  Well, she's going to ask Miss Niriel, probably, after lunch - but she's going to ask.  ...Again.

It's just that this time she has reasons beyond 'I promise I won't do anything bad with it' (...that's not a reason, but, well,) and 'I want to, really really bad, pretty please may I'.

...Oh dear.  That's Alicia's I Have Made A Decision face.

"...'licia, what are you thinking about?"

"...Desta needs - or, could really be helped by - having someone that knows that spell that that guy used, around.  All the time.  I'm good at books.  If they'd let me, I could probably learn it."

...There is no amount of precociousness and rulefollowing that will convince policy on the orphanage's reference copies of spellcasting tomes to be bent, even as Alicia is otherwise rather tearing through every bit of knowledge she can get her hands on.  Nor will even a carefully-saved five-year-old's market allowance usually permit independent purchase of such tomes.

(Even if it did, it would be too dangerous to permit such a thing to be learned here; the Royal Academy has quite stringent standards for novices' practice facilities for a reason.)

...Hope springs eternal, nonetheless.

Regardless - the elevator arrives back at their floor, Giselda grabs the next handful of kids, and Desta and the others are left to find seats -

- under the watchful supervision of an elven woman, whose irises gently shimmer like aurorae.

...She'll leave introducing herself for later.  Lunch waits for no woman.

Opal, as she usually does, places herself a few seats inwards from a corner, to be a social buffer between - Alicia and Desta, this time - and everyone else.

...Alicia puts her plate next to Opal's, and then quickly grabs some paper.  'Would you like the corner seat, or can I have it?'

She can take the second seat from the end, sure. Presumably Alicia will move her plate when she goes for it.

Yeah, she will.  'Thank you!'

She eats at a steady pace, not making any attempt to socialize with the other kids.

Alicia eats quickly, though still thoroughly, not socializing either -

- and Opal has already gotten around to saying all that she needed to say about current events, to the people who needed to hear her, earlier, so she mostly just exchanges a few polite nothings, and collects some papers.

...Well, that should be more ominous than she thinks it is.  (But that sixth sense in the back of her mind is insisting that there's nothing wrong, there, and it has never been wrong before.)

When it looks like everyone is about to finish their lunch, a casual circuit of the room allows her to place a neatly-folded sheet of paper with Desta's name on it next to her plate; it's written in a particularly crisp hand.

Desta

Hello.  My name is Niriel Cethena¹.  You can call me Miss El, for short.  I take care of everyone who lives here in the afternoon, until it is time for dinner, baths, and sleep. 

Speaking of sleep, Miss G has paired you with room 3 for lunch.  If you don't find a group you like better, that will be your bedroom, here.  We try to make sure everyone shares rooms with people they want to share rooms with.

Every afternoon, we go outside for a while, unless the weather means we can't or shouldn't.  Usually, we go to the playground.  We will go to the playground with another group of children like this one.  (Sometimes we go other places.  When that happens, most of us call it a 'field trip', even though we are not usually going on a trip to see fields.)

This afternoon, you will be getting some new clothes.  The quartermaster - the person whose job it is to keep track of all the stuff we use - will send someone up here who makes things out of cloth, and they will make sure you have all the clothes you need, and hopefully clothes that you want.  Think about what colors you might like, and what sort of clothes you want, though I'm sure the tailor - the person who makes things out of cloth - will be able to help you if you have any questions.

She doesn't get very far into the letter before she folds it back up, sets it as far from her as she can comfortably reach, and stares at the far wall, clearly distressed.

...oh.  Blast, she put some of those things in the wrong order.  ...She doesn't think that she can be the source of comfort Desta needs in this moment, either, not after having been the proximate cause of her distress.

....Opal would like to offer Desta a hug.

Opal will have to get Desta's attention in order to do that, and Desta startles a little when she notices her trying, but she accepts the hug. Clings, a little. Sobs, quietly.

...oh.  Oh, she thinks she knows what this is.

(She grew up here.  But she's seen others that didn't.)

There will be a lot of hug.  Maybe even soothing pats.  Her plans for a welcome letter get unceremoniously pushed off.

Now that she's started crying she's not sure she can stop. Or rather: she can't stop. It's not even getting better.

The hugging will continue until morale improves.  If it looks like it's going to take a while she might try moving them to a bedroom.

Yeah that might need to happen. She's trying not to cause a scene but she's not really succeeding at it.

...She doesn't know how Opal came across this sense of - far too much responsibility - but blast it she can't let it break her.  And it probably will, if she doesn't intervene - she can see the way Opal is trying to hold back her own tears.

Once Opal has gotten Desta out of the middle of the shared space - with the scene it could have been veiled from its putative audience by powers arcane - she's going to knock on the door.

"...Opal.  I think you know what this is, and I think you know it's not something you can make better.  You've done everything you can.  May I try?"

"You hurt her.  You're supposed to help her.  Not hurt her."

"I know, and I'm going to apologize to Desta for what happened as soon as I can.  It was an accident, on my oath.  But - you're not big enough to carry all that sadness I... dug up, Opal - and I am.  I know how to.  Please, let me help her - and please let me help you.  ...If you told me that this doesn't hurt you, too, I think we both know that would be false."

...

...

The door creaks open, Opal just close enough to reach the handle from where she's sat herself and Desta.

(Well, it doesn't literally creak open.  But still - it opens but a crack.)

...She's still fixing an 'I'm-watching-you' glare to her face, though.

...As is, however painfully, her right.

...Right.  She's inside, the door's shut, now how is she going to distract Desta from the all-consuming grief...

"...Opal, you can stay with Desta for now, but once the rest of the world has Desta's attention again, the things I want to talk to her about might be private, okay?"

"...I guess that's alright.  If Desta wants that.", she says, while - in Alicia's fancier words - 'testing the hypothesis' that things that help Alicia when she's sad might also help Desta, by introducing a small soft thing to hug, squeeze, and/or pet.  (...Alicia calls him 'Mr. Rabbit', sometimes, but he's a toy, not a pet bunny.)

"...Yes, if Desta wants that."

...Okay, that's going to go how it's going to go, but....  Hm.

If she starts up a magelight - not the enchanted sort, but a little free-floating ball of light - and moves it around, is Desta tracking it?

Being moved to what she's assuming is the room she's supposed to sleep in tonight, rather than her own room in her own bed, has made things worse rather than better. So, uh. No.

...oh dear.

"...Opal, dear, let's move Desta to the quiet room, instead of in here, hmm?  I don't think it's helping her.  ...I mentioned where she'd be sleeping, and I think that was the problem.  So, while this is a private space, and it's good that you thought of that, it's not good for Desta to be here right now."

...Oh no she made it worse? --

...She's going to have to apologize too.

Uh.  Is Desta still going to move with her?  If she tries to do that?

Yeah she's clinging pretty insistently.

Then, yeah, Opal will move them to the quiet room.

And Niriel will walk between them and the rest of the room as they do that.

The Quiet Room is, well, quiet, as well as dim, and there are quite a few soft things in there.

(She signals an older kid, themself an orphan who has volunteered their time to their juniors, to make sure that nobody else comes in.)

The change in location helps, a little.

...That's good.  And - she appears to be tracking the magelight, this time.  That's...  Good.  She was worried that she'd need to take Desta to the infirmary.  (She still is, to be honest.)

The question, of course, is - having at least proven that Desta is not completely catatonic - whether her charge will be able to process much else - for instance, writing - let alone communicate anything she might need to say.

...If Opal knew this was the kind of problem that Niriel was dealing with, she would definitely agree it was beyond her means.  As it is, she's just focusing on hugs and possibly providing soothing stims (as observed from Alicia), not that she would know them by that name.

...One step at a time, Niriel.  First, compose a message - "Can you read this?" ought to do - and second, introduce it.

She watches what Desta is looking at carefully, as she presents the piece of paper beneath a magelight.  If it doesn't look like she's reading things, then...

Hm.  Perhaps she could light each word up, one at a time.  It's just identifying the ink, it can't be that hard.

(For many mages it would be relatively difficult, but she's cheating.)

She's reading it, or at least she looks like she is, briefly.

Alright.  First, stabilize the kid.

'This might sound kind of silly, but when you are feeling too much, it can help to take slow, steady breaths.  People feel with their bodies, as much as they do with their souls.

'I can tell you how to breathe in a way that should help you with how much you're feeling.  If you want me to do that, please nod your head.'

She thinks she is feeling a perfectly reasonable amount for how horrible things are, actually. But it's rarely a good idea to be upset when grownups don't want you to be. She nods.

If she had any insight into what Desta was thinking, she would agree that this whole situation is very horrible, and the problem is that life must go on anyway, but, well, she doesn't.

What she does have is a neat little illusion and some breathing instructions, which are in this narrative elided because the author doesn't trust their ability to make recommendations.

...sure.

It takes her a bit to focus on the exercises enough to do them, but they work pretty well once she does. She continues to cling to Opal and she's clearly not happy but she's not actively freaking out anymore.

'...I owe you an apology, Desta.  I did not mean to do it, but I hurt you, and I am sorry.  I should have been more careful with the things I said.'

'I also want to say that it is quite normal to be upset about - well, everything that is happening right now - and that I am not upset with you, or your feelings.'

'Your feelings are very normal feelings to have.  I just don't want you to get buried under them - like how loud noises are bad for you, but with your feelings, if that makes sense.'

...She's seen enough kids be worried about that that the reassurance is automatic, though the comparison of them to loud noises was something she actually thought up in the moment.

Is this always what grownups are like, when you can understand them? It's weird.

"Otay."

...It's what they should be like, but many often aren't.  Is what she would say if she knew what was going through Desta's head.

...As it is, she's just...  Glad that Desta doesn't seem to be holding this against her all too much.

Even if that bodes poorly for everything else that she needs to watch for.

'There are still a couple things I need to tell you, but they shouldn't be - painful to think about, on their own.  If they are, please let me know.'

'The first thing to know is, we go outside to play in the afternoon.  Sometimes we go other places, but we're not doing that today.'

'The second thing is that we're going to get you some new clothes today, so a tailor will come here and make sure you get things that fit - and hopefully things you like.  Do you have a favorite color?'

Read, read; nod, shrug.