Goma guzzles water straight out of the pitcher as Sanctuary, wearing only light linen trousers from his work in the garden, begins to dress himself. “Hah, just imagine…” he muses as he pulls a long blue tunic on. "Arch-Mage Sanctuary.” He seems to find this notion ridiculous as he good-naturedly rolls his eyes. He slides his arms through a turmeric yellow cardigan with light russet trim and ornamented with simple tie-dyed stripes along its shoulders. Sanctuary lingers in front of a full length mirror leaning against a wall to fix his disheveled hair, tying it back into a neat bun. “No, I don’t think any esteemed institution would put up with this mess,” he says with a self-deprecating smile.