The day was like any other. A warm spring breeze blew gently across the lands. Rustling the grasses on the floating land masses above the Arnin’Thal Crater. Patchy rain clouds sauntered across the sky with the promise of an after noon rain. The temperature was that of comfort, not too hot but not too cold. The crater was the result of an arcane explosion that happened thousands of years ago. The energy still left in the air surrounding the crater, leaving huge chunks of land floating still in the sky. The expansive land below was fertile with many magical fauna and flora. On the floating land masses was the home of the Northdale Elven Magi Academy, a series of several buildings dedicated to the study and housing of all things magic. Home to some of the brightest elemental wielding minds the lands had come to know. A great many ancient magical relics and artifacts were stored on the grounds. As it was as safe a place for such history that one could get. Hovering platforms would bring visitors to the center using arcane geodes, or one could simply take the long floating bridge to the main building where the relics and students had studies. The other buildings on the various floating land masses housed an aviary, more libraries, sparing grounds and other facilities. The buildings were carved of granite and marble and shined, shining softly in the spring day sun. Tall columns rose high in the air, making an archway for the main entrance. The grand halls were wide, big enough for a dragon to walk easily through. Elegant paintings and plants grew in the building. Both elves and humans walked the halls. Both teachers and students. In the northern library how ever there was one young human man that seemed visually out of place. He was of average height, thought that wasn’t readily obvious since he sat leaned over a book. He wore not robes but a tunic and pants, dwarven in design with bold geometric shapes on the hems and earth and stone colors. His dark brown hair was shoulder length and combed away from his face and adorned with a pair of braids that started from his side burns. Still young his facial hair had not grown in thick and thinly covered his face. His blue eyes pouring over the book before him. Rukh waved his hand gently and a breeze of air turned the page for him. When he found something of interest he scribbled notes in his journal with a never ending ink quill. The books beside him were on teleportation and moving objects and persons from one place to another. The man so much absorbed in his material that he’d be oblivious to someone walking up to him. Even if they were to stand right in front of him.