[OM] [Open] The Twenty-Year Refrain

[The Quill]

17 July, 2026 x •x Openx • x Esikkent, Turkey

Late to the Gate! → Knock knock... → ??? (August 1) → ??? (August 8) → ??? (August 15)

The morning of the Twenty-Year Refrain had not started off well.

At 8:42, Professor Forrest discovered that the enchanted travel alarm on her bedside table had helpfully adjusted itself to Istanbul time, which would have been useful if she had not already manually adjusted the time earlier. At 8:43, Professor Malik discovered that the thing had affected his alarm as well. At 8:44, both professors reached the same conclusion from opposite sides of the corridor.

They were late.

By 8:45, Professor Forrest was moving down the hall of the student lodging house in a dressing robe, one shoe fully on, the other trapped under her arm, knocking sharply on doors as she passed.

“Up, please. Up. We are leaving in five minutes.”

Knock knock knock.

“Five minutes!”

Knock knock knock.

“Shoes. Clothes. Wand. Everything else pack with magic or leave behind!”

A door opened. Then another. One student emerged with their hair still wet. Another appeared with their shirt half-buttoned. Someone had clearly put on two different socks and either had not noticed or had decided to make a bold choice. Every student who had thought to set an alarm would have found they had suffered the same fate as their professors.

Professor Malik stepped into view at the end of the corridor, fully dressed in a way that suggested either discipline or magic. Still wearing his scarf despite the very warm summer day.

A few minutes later, the Penwick group was outside and moving through Esikkent at a rapid pace, with Professor Malik leading the pack and Professor Forrest at the back, frantically hurrying those who were falling behind. Residents and visitors alike moved in the same direction.

Down.

The Gate Floor itself was wide and open, cleared of ordinary foot traffic. Low ropes, carved posts, and white marker stones divided the viewing areas from the ceremonial space where the Janus Gate lay.

A ceremony attendant in pale blue robes approached the viewing area with the quick, controlled steps of someone who had solved seven problems already that morning and expected eight more before the ceremony began. A bronze cord crossed their shoulder. “Guests of Penwick?” they asked.

Professor Forrest smiled. “Yes. Apologies for cutting it close.”

The attendant’s eyes flicked over the students, then the professors, unimpressed.

“Your reserved spot is over there,” they said, pointing to a roped-off area at the front of the viewing area. “Please do not cross the white stones into the ceremonial area. If a student feels faint or suddenly certain they have been invited into the ceremonial space, they should inform a chaperone immediately.”

Professor Malik looked at the students. “You heard them.”

The attendant continued, “Wands may remain on your person. They should not be drawn unless there is immediate danger.” A voice called out, and the attendant quickly bowed their head and ran off.

As the group went to their designated spot, it was easier to see the hustle and bustle around them. Near the Gate, attendants moved around a low stone table. Two carried sealed documents bound in blue cord, another brought a shallow bronze bowl, and another placed a long wooden case beside the table.

Professor Forrest stepped slightly in front of the students, “Since we missed the leisurely version of this morning,” she said quietly, “you are getting the field version. Remember that this ceremony uses more than words. Placement matters. Silence matters. Timing matters. And make the most of this moment, it's a wondrous occasion!”

A soft note sounded from the bronze bowl, and conversation began to quiet down as the ceremony was about to begin.

Welcome to the Summer OM!

Please review the OM Rules and Moderated Thread Rules before participating.

• This is an "open thread", so feel free to join whenever, even if other Qill posts have already been made (in which case, act like you've been there the whole time).
• This is also a "moderated thread", so your character's abilities and health pool are at play!
• There will be a new message from The Quill in this thread about every week for a "mod post", helping facilitate your character's journey! Please do not write beyond what I have described in the mod posts (the gate opening, the ceremony starting, etc)
• You are welcome to lightly godmod Professor Forrest and Malik, as well as the attendants around the area.

The next Quill post will begin the ceremony. Have fun!

[June Selwyn]

JUNE SELWYN
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Date: July 17, 2026 | DM before interacting | Dialogue:X
────────────────────────────────

June Selwyn had not overslept.

She could only remember three times in her life when she had overslept, and none of them were particularly pleasant experiences.The first had been when she was eight and had stayed awake until nearly three in the morning reading beneath her blankets. The second had been after a particularly exhausting broom race at Hogwarts. The third she preferred not to discuss.

So, when the frantic knocking came at her door at precisely 8:45, June had already been awake for a while.

She was not, however, ready.

June had been sitting on the edge of her bed in her pyjamas, reading through The Hunger Games (as a certain friend had forced strongly urged her to do), waiting for her alarm to go off to start getting ready. She had calculated that she needed fourteen minutes to prepare herself and approximately eight to eat something before departure.

She had not accounted for Professor Forrest appearing in the corridor shouting to be ready in five minutes.

June stared at the door.

Five minutes?

"You're joking."

The renewed pounding and glance at the clock proved she was not.

What followed was perhaps the least dignified five minutes of June's summer.

She accio'd clothes to her hand, jumping around the room to put her trousers on as quickly as possible, shoved her book into her satchel, and spent several frantic seconds looking for her wand before realizing she was already holding it. Her hair, which had been intended for something more put together, was pulled back into a simple ponytail. Breakfast became an apple she found in the hallway as she left her room.

"What even happened? I could have sworn I set an alarm for 8:20," June asked to no one in particular in the hall.

"Dunno," a student beside her replied, "something happened with all our alarms. Seems they were all moved an hour ahead." An alarm clock's bells rang in the room next to them as if to punctuate the point. "See?"

"Bloody hell..." June huffed, agitated that the morning would surely taint the whole day. By the time they were moving through Esikkent, however, June had largely forgotten her irritation.

Every street fed into the same current of people, residents and visitors alike moving steadily downward toward the Gate Floor. June had known about the Twenty-Year Refrain before the trip, as both Professors had been sure to include lessons in each of their classes last year. However, reading about something and standing in front of it were very different experiences.

June barely registered the attendant's unimpressed inspection of their group, though the warning that students may be invited into the ceremonial space caught her attention.

Her eyebrows rose, but she stayed quiet.

Once they reached their reserved area, June slipped naturally toward the front, unwilling to let someone's shoulder obstruct a ceremony that only happened once every twenty years. Her blue eyes darted side to side, she was watching everything.

Each new object only produced another question. What was in the documents? Why were they sealed? Who had sealed them? What was the significance of the blue cord? What was kept inside the case? Had the same objects been used twenty years ago, or were they prepared anew for each Refrain?

June wanted to ask all of them, but she figured the attendants were too busy to answer them, and asking the professors would only garner a "you'll find out once the ceremony starts."

There was a particular sort of magic June had come to appreciate over the past year, magic that did not begin and end with an incantation. Old magic. She had spent enough time in Forgotten Arts to know how dangerous they could be.

The soft note from the bronze bowl carried across the Gate Floor.

In the moments that followed, June had a thought. Twenty years ago, she had not existed. Twenty years from now, she would be thirty-six. She hoped she would remember this moment then.

[Hazel Middleton]

---

---

Groggy and flustered, Hazel awoke to a series of sharp knocking on her door and raised voices. She bolted up in her bed, her vision adjusting after her sudden extraction from sleep. The knocking continued down the hallway outside, as did the raised voices. She was trying to understand what the instructions were. Five minutes. Five minutes. Sharp, hurried knocking.

Hazel was still struggling to understand the urgency of the situation, when the person, whom she suspected was Professor Forrest, came back down the hall, now demanding ‘Shoes. Clothes. Wand. Everything else pack with magic or leave it behind!’

Hazel suddenly understood. Panicked, she hopped out of bed and scrambled to get dressed, tuck away her wand and gather her things. She didn’t know how to pack her things with magic, so she just started gathering everything and shoving them in her bag. She checked and double checked she hadn’t forgotten or missed anything before sealing up her bag - with exceeding difficulty, though she managed.

Her brother Jamie appeared at her door. "Hurry up. Let's go." He didn't even wait for her to respond.

She hurried after Jamie to meet the rest of the group as instructed, and almost as soon she arrived, they were moving. She had no time or opportunity to absorb anything they were seeing around them as they charged as a group through Esikkent; Hazel was concentrating on keeping up with the school group.

In really no time at all, they had arrived at the Gate Floor - and it was like nothing Hazel had ever seen. For one thing, the Janus Gate was absolutely gargantuan. It was also very beautiful, and very mysterious. It was strange to see a gate seemingly opening up to nothing. People were flooding in from many directions, all being guided by people to designated areas. The Penwick students were ushered to their reserved area.

Hazel was only half listening to the usher’s instructions to the professors, but something caught her attention: “If a student feels faint or suddenly certain they have been invited into the ceremonial space, they should inform a chaperone immediately.” What did that mean? Confused, she followed the other students to the roped off viewing area. Minutes after the group had settled, there was some fluster - apparently something was already beginning to happen down by the gate. Hazel was struggling to see past the older kids, so she looked around for her brother and gently so as to not offend anyone, she pushed her way to the front so she could get a better view, standing in front of Jamie.

She stood and watched as some attendants began preparing things. She didn’t understand the significance of anything they were carrying. Maybe they were ritual items? She made sure to pay attention - maybe once she was at Penwick she could look it up in the library.

Professor Forrest addressed the students again. Again, she didn’t really understand what she meant or was really talking about, but she was hoping it would come to make sense once the ceremony began. Hazel began to think again about the comment from the usher.

What if she was ‘suddenly certain she had been invited into the ceremonial space?’

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17 July, 2026
Tags: Open for interaction

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[Tristan Verona]

Tristan Verona

Starring :

2026/07/17

Everything had meaning. Buttons, ribbons, letters. Tristan Verona had woken up early and had spent the last hour worrying about the way he should present himself. Professor Forrest had stressed the importance of every single little thing being significant. This was important; he had to make a good impression. Maybe he would be the only Verona a Veela might meet their whole life. Had his dad ever met a Veela? He didn’t know. The boy didn’t know much about his father’s magical life or travels. So it was best to imagine that he was the one upholding his family’s name on this trip.

He had just finished combing his hair when he finally heard the knock on his door. Five minutes seemed to be short notice, but he was ready, so he didn’t mind too much. He stepped out the door with a confident stride (and a few extra inches of height that no one would pay attention to). The panic that he witnessed took him by surprise as many other students seemed to be running late. Looking at the state of his classmates, if this was how they were going to present themselves, this would not end well. In his opinion, only Professor Malik looked presentable and was taking this seriously. Tristan decided to stick closer to the teacher as the group marched down to join the crowd gathering near the Janus Gate.

He couldn’t help but imagine all the meanings hidden in plain sight around them. The attendant had led the summer group to a viewing area, and now he could see so much more. The gate looked much bigger up close. Tristan had only seen the arches from the higher levels of Esikkent, but being at the bottom of the Threshold City put things into perspective. There were many inscriptions on the stone of the immense structure. He wondered if those were verses or poems that the Veela courts had sung. Should he have prepared a poem?

He wasn’t exactly the writer Julian Verona was. He tried to think about poems he knew and ended up stuck on “Roses are red”. He then imagined a world where a refrain starting with those words would be recorded to history under the Verona name. He couldn’t face his Father if that ever happened.

Silence matters.

Professor Forrest was probably right, and as the bronze bowl sounded, silence was what Tristan opted for.

Ability Major Morph in effect

[The Quill]

17 July, 2026 x •x Openx • x Esikkent, Turkey

Late to the Gate! → Knock Knock... → ??? (August 8) → ??? (August 15) → ???(August 22)

The bronze bowl sounded again, the metallic note rang sharp enough to cut through the layered murmur of the crowd. Then, all throughout the levels of Esikkent, pale blue apparitions flickered to life, magical projects that looked not too dissimilar to the Muggle idea of a hologram.

One appeared near the Penwick viewing area, just beside the white marker stones. Another appeared near the crowded terraces above. More shimmered into view beside stair landings, visitor platforms, public balconies, and side passages where latecomers had gathered in little clusters.

Each apparition showed the same young wix in pale blue robes, no older than twenty. “Good morning, everyone." The apparitions spoke in unison, and keen eyes would see they were mirroring the actions of the "real" wix tucked away on the Gate Floor. "My name is Emre, and I will be your guide to the ceremony as it happens. And, if our charms have worked correctly, you should be understanding me in your native tongue.” Their voice carried clearly, as though Emre stood a few steps away from everyone at once.

“First, we ask that no flashes be used when taking photographs. Please do not disturb the ceremony, the attendants, officials, named witnesses, or the people around you unless there is immediate danger. If you do not wish to hear my explanations, please take out your wand, tap it once, and recite the spell Muffaltus Apparitio. You will no longer hear my voice.”

The crowd shifted slightly as a few people drew their wands and murmured the spell. A student in the Penwick group mispronounced the charm, and the group was rewarded with Emre’s voice becoming louder for a moment before quickly being corrected.

“The ceremony takes place inside the marked circle around the Janus Gate.” Emre pointed toward the central floor where the white marker stones set around the Janus Gate began to give off a faint glow, one after another.

“You will now see some people preparing the Record,” Emre said, gesturing to the stone table. “Esikkent presents an account of the last twenty years. This includes changes in office, impactful deaths or births, discoveries, well wishes, and the like. Think of it as a newspaper for the Court that gets them up to speed on the most impactful part of the last twenty years.”

Emre pointed to the two documents that were bound in blue cord, each now being spread out on the stone table and read over by attendants. “The two documents are matching copies,” Emre explained. “The first remains in Esikkent for our own records, and the second will be given to the White Ember Court once the gate opens. At this very moment, on the other side of the gate, the Court is preparing their own version of their records from the last two decades.”

The attendants at the table began their work. There were three of them inside the marked circle now, all dressed in white and blue robes edged with bronze and pale gold. Two stood over the records, one for each copy. They moved through the scroll, reading it in careful sections, checking seals, running gloved fingers beneath certain lines, murmuring something to one another, occasionally nodding.

The third attendant was inspecting the long wooden case, kneeling beside it and checking each latch by hand.

“The wooden case contains Esikkent’s gift to the Court,” Emre continued. “It has been customary for each side to present a gift to the other during the Refrain.” The third attendant pressed two fingers to the final latch, then looked to the others and nodded. Together, the three attendants left the table and formed a straight line before the Janus Gate.

“Esikkent is ready to open its side of the Gate. The White Ember Court may not be ready at the exact same moment. That is common. Both sides prepare independently, and the Gate opens only when both have opened their individual side.”

The three attendants faced the arch and spoke in unison, their voices low enough that the words of whatever incantation they were speaking were lost. Blue-white light spilled down from the empty space of the Gate like water until it began to twist into a bright, swirling surface of colours and light.

@Hazel Middleton would feel it then.

No voice spoke her name. No attendant pointed at her. From the outside, nothing had happened at all.

But the certainty arrived all at once.

She needed to go into the circle.

The feeling was not gentle; it struck with the clear force of knowing something had called her name, even if no one else had heard it. The space inside the circle seemed incomplete without her, insisting on the same impossible next step.

Go forward.

Professor Forrest, who was standing beside her, would notice the shift in the girl's facial expression. "Is everything alright, love?"

And Hazel knew, with terrible certainty, that the ceremony was waiting for her.

Welcome to the Summer OM!

Please review the OM Rules and Moderated Thread Rules before participating.

• This is an "open thread", so feel free to join whenever, even if other Qill posts have already been made (in which case, act like you've been there the whole time).
• This is also a "moderated thread", so your character's abilities and health pool are at play!
• Please do not write beyond what I have described in the mod posts (the gate opening, the ceremony starting, etc)
• You are still welcome to join the OM even though it has already begun.

Now, for @Hazel Middleton...

Your character is being called into the ceremony. You are free to godmod Professor Forrest if Hazel needs a little pep-talk, or wants to make sure she is allowed to enter the circle (Professor Forrest will encourage her to go). I responded to your airport post as the Professor to give the two at least a small relationship before this moment!

If Hazel does not speak up or enter on her own, the attendants will notice her and bring her into the circle in the next Quill post. You won't die, I promise ;)