As promised, just after dawn a small entourage approached the Embassy. At it's head was a young woman in golden robes, soft, gentle features full of eagerness as she introduced herself and the Defender at her side to the guards. Behind her trailed a young man, barely more than a boy, in a simple white robe, bearing a pouch as if it was the most precious burden in the world. Bringing up the rear was a strapping man carrying a chest, his eyes carefully downcast.

After only a few minutes, the small group was let inside and messengers sent to both Daidoji Fuichi and Isawa Junpei that the brahmin Speaker of Sarswati who named herself Sabera Kalsekeron, of House Kosala, had come to offer aid to one and instruction to the other, in whichever order was most convenient or, indeed, both at once.

Fuichi arrived fairly swiftly(assuming he's not dead), and bowed deeply in greeting to his gaijin friend. "Greetings, Speaker. Welcome to the Embassy, though I had not expected to see you so soon."

Perhaps a bit less melancholy as he'd been over the past few days, Junpei could nevertheless not muster his former joie d'vivre no matter how hard he might have tried. The boisterous young man had left a little piece of his spirit with the kami on the tower, but all wounds heal in time. This one would just leave a very large scar. Able to put on his usual calm airs, he finally made his way to the small gathering of gaijin. Hands folded in his sleeves, he'd not been given his scrolls back, and assumed he never would, not that such a thing stopped a tensai from working his spells, it was mostly the feeling of nakedness that made their absence noticeable. Stepping up behind Fuichi, just to the side, he gave his own bows, although he remained silent.

Fuichi smiled and bowed in greeting to his friend, pleased as punch to see him alive, if slightly despondent.

"Good morning, Isawa-san!"

Junpei gave another short bow to Fuichi, giving a smile, or at least it might have been a smile, it was a touch to faint to tell for certain.

That brought a quirk of Fuichi's brow, but it would be fairly uncool to press further in front of the Speaker, so he remained mute.

Surprisingly, Qian-Fan had made his way back to the Embassy this morning and stepped into the room to join his fellow priests. He made a proper Rokugani bow to Fuichi and Junpei and then, after a moments hesitation, an approximation of the bow he'd learnt from observing the captain to the gaijin.

A smile and bow is returned to Qian-fan, though there is some marked residual embarrassment from the day before in the form of a slight blush.

"It is good to see you again, Fuichi...-san? This is the proper way to refer to one of like service, yes?" Sabera smiled prettily. "I have done some reading on your people in the interest of common ground. I have news for you, though perhaps you would like to learn with he I come to teach first?"

She slid her gaze between Qian-Fan and Junpei. "I am sorry, Seekers, but I am unsure which of you is my pupil. I was told to seek one with the colors of sunset but with two of you it makes it more uncertain. As for myself, I am Sabera Kalsekeron, of House Kosala, and it is my joyous duty to serve Sarswati, goddess of knowledge and art." She smiled and bowed to them, then laid a hand on the lad's shoulder. "This is my apprentice, Joti. He is also learning of our magic so I thought it best to bring him along. The young often see that which adults have forgotten and perhaps his views will be of assistance."

The boy, nervously, offered a namaste.

"I am Agasha Qian-Fan, Priest of the kami and advisor to Yoritomo Uminushi-sama. I am here to observe Isawa Junpei-san's sentence, Sabera Kalsekeron-san."

He stepped back, intending to find a spot by the wall to watch whatever gaijin sorceries would be revealed, and Junpei's reaction to them.

The woman made a pained face. "This is in service of justice, yes, but sentence? That is, perhaps, harsh...we offer understanding, surely that is a thing which those who serve spirits or gods of whatever realm should value?"

He nodded.

"It may be so, but the Inquisitors back in the Empire are unlikely to see things in such a manner with only one piece of testimony."

"Inquisitors? These are like the Speakers of the gods of Law for your people, I imagine...why should they be upset that you have learned that which will keep you and those around you safer?" Sabera seemed truly perplexed, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her brows. "No one expects you to turn from your own ways to ours, after all. Even if you wished it, it takes years of learning and practice...we do not have that sort of time."

"The Inquisitors do not have an open mind to the magics of others. Too often they prove to be the foulness of the Ninth."

He glanced at Fuichi and Junpei.

"But the Mantis would never have allied with your people if this was true here. Another voice in testimony will ensure the truth is known."

But do I condemn myself as well?

"What defines such magic as...corrupted?" The young woman was curious, yet wise enough to be hesitant. "Perhaps I can swiftly ease your worry by saying if our ways are so, or not so."

This was not a subject normally discussed openly, even amongst Phoenix.

"The magic of the ninth, blood sorcery most often, carries a spiritual corruption that erodes mind and body, turning one into a servant of the evil. The Sea of Shadows and the Shadowlands, north of here are lands blighted by this corruption."

Junpei remained silent. He was simply an observer, and prayed his engagement would have to go no further. Though he might appreciate the effectiveness of their arts without the divine guidance of Tengoku, the thought of being lectured by barbarians who thought themselves wiser than the sensei of the Phoenix would likely have had Lady Mitsuko in a rage. Still, it was for the good of the crew, and, in all hopes, would offer the answers he needed about these foreign gods. The only problem was that these people, even their, so called priests were apparently powerless to stop whatever monstrosity their pantheon had beset upon the land, making any information on the subject even more dubious.

At the words 'blood sorcery' the woman gasped and made a warding gesture, her ivory skin paling a few shades. "Fuichi told me that the Buddha had walked in your lands, or someone much like him, but to know that She who ends all may have an equal...it is a horrid thing. Let me assure you, then, that while I know of such foul sorceries, I would never practice them and, indeed, do not even know how it is that it is done."

Visibly gathering herself, she let out a long sigh.

"In this land, that which we call magic, pure magic, is based, at it's heart, upon will in two forms. First, there is the will by which you focus your intentions, the power that makes a brahmin a Speaker. This will, we believe, is found in the surety of one's own person, one's own soul, and how it is distinct from all others. It is a gift given only after one has reached a high enough place in the world, the higher levels of knowledge, that one is graced with such a distinct knowing of self. In seeing and knowing the self, we bind ourselves to our names. That is why names and naming are powerful magic here."

Here she paused, waiting for any questions that might be forthcoming.

In a sudden break of silence, Junpei speaks up, "What is the nature of these names?"

"Those with powerful enough senses of self become more aware of their atman, their soul. Part of sense of self is in the knowing of who one is, which is tied to the concept of one's name. Being called by one's name all of their life sets it not only into your mind but into the mind of the whole, the universe."

Sabera's brow furrowed again as she tried to explain something that every good brahmin knew in another tongue to people who might not even know what a soul was.

"Names are so powerfully bound that some remember prior names bound to their souls from previous incarnations in the wheel of life, though such is a rare gift. Regardless....it is with names that magic happens. Most often, it is by binding one's will for what should happen into words and then drawing upon the name of one's god, though for efforts that touch other people, you must weave their name into your words. Words, too, have power, for they frame the will. If it is done poorly, one may curse instead of aid entirely by accident."