[The West Wing] People of the Northern Lights (Solo)

[Satevis]

18th Day of Spring, 512 AV

It was mid-morning, and time for him to officially start his classes at the university. He had met with Professor Cyril last night about his assistantship. The professor had seemed pleased to have an Ethaefal working with him, and Satevis was to start later that night. For now, he had an anthropology class to get to. Satevis glanced at the timetable in his hand, taking note of the room number and looking up at the classroom in front of him to make sure he had the right classroom. He opened the door, stepping inside.

The class was smaller than expected, consisting of about five other students. He supposed that in a university this size with this many classes, anthropology as a class was more or less overlooked. All eyes turned towards him as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. The professor, an human who looked about in his sixties, looked up at him, frowning as he checked at the roll.

"Are you Satevis?" he asked.

"I am," he said in reply, walking over to one of the empty desks and placing his bag down. He didn't take a seat, instead politely waiting for the professor to finish speaking with him. He didn't sit all the way in the back of the room, but neither did he go for one of the front row seats, instead preferring to sit in the middle row. He had never really liked being the center of attention, something that made his nightly transformation a little difficult.

"That's not a typical Benshira name," said the professor. "It's the Shiber translation for the star Antares, isn't it?"

"It is," said Satevis, surprised at the man's knowledge. But then again, he was an anthropology professor. He wouldn't have this position if he couldn't pick out cultural differences in the various human subraces. "I am Ethaefal."

"Ah, a son of Leth," said the professor, unfazed. The same couldn't be said for the rest of the students, who murmured amongst themselves. "Well, we are pleased to have you at the University. My name is Nicholas Chandler, and you may refer to me as Professor Chandler, or simply professor. Honor to the tents of your fathers." The last phrase was said in almost-fluent Shiber, and Satevis stared. He was shocked. Shocked and...impressed. The man had officially gained his respect.

Satevis recovered and smiled, leaning forward in a slight bow from the waist. "Honor to yours, Abi," he replied in the same language, straightening up.

Professor Chandler nodded, gesturing at the desk he stood next to. "Take a seat," he said.

Satevis did so, ignoring the murmur of 'teacher's pet' that came from somewhere behind him. He supposed that the speaker was a small, somewhat rough-looking human girl that he had seen as he walked into the room. If he was right, then she was the one sitting in the back row, her feet propped up on her desk. The professor set the roll down on the desk in front of him, picking up a piece of chalk and turning towards the class. "Now, Mr. Satevis. Since you enrolled a little late in the term, I'm afraid you're a little behind. We're currently studying human subraces. What can you tell me about the Vantha?"

He frowned, thinking back to the things he had read on the subject--journals mostly, from people who had encountered them. "They call themselves the people of the Aurora Borealis," he replied. "They dwell mainly in Avanthal in Taldera, and are famed for their storytelling. They are well-adapted to extreme cold, and their eye-colors are said to change with their mood."

Professor Chandler gave him an amused smile. "That was a good summary, Mr. Satevis. Now what can you tell me about their culture?"

Satevis frowned, falling silent and lowering his eyes to the desk. None of the journals he had read had been able to give him something very in-depth. The Vantha were probably the people farthest from his own, so he had never had any reason to learn about them, besides idle curiosity. A part of him wondered if that, more than his lateness, was why the professor had asked him about them.

He slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't tell you much, professor," he admitted.

"Good," said Professor Chandler, smiling. "Admitting ignorance is the first step to gaining knowledge. You should know that we spent the past few lectures discussing the Svefra in depth. See me after class, and we can go over a suitable extra credit assignment so that you can make up for it."

Satevis nodded, taking out the blank book and writing set that he had bought and setting it up on the desk in front of him as Professor Chandler went on. Now, he began. "About the Vantha..."

[Satevis]

"The Vantha believe, as it is said in their histories, that they arrived in Mizahar by walking through the northern lights, which they call Morwen's Lights. They revere the lights strongly in their day to day life, many of them believing that the lights themselves can be channeled into a pathway into other worlds..."

Satevis remained quiet as the professor continued his lecture, his quill moving over the pages of his book as he jotted down quick notes on the man's words. He didn't attempt to transcribe everything he said, instead writing short phrases that would remind him of the topic of the lesson. His notes alternated between Shiber and Common. It was easier to copy Professor Chandler's exact words in the language that they were spoken in, but his own thoughts on the subject came most easily in his native tongue.

Northern/Morwen's Lights, he wrote. Believed to be origin of Vantha people. Believed to be pathway into other worlds...

He paused for a moment as he wrote it, staring down at his notes. Without even thinking about it, he had underlined the phrase 'other worlds'. Did the Ukalas count as another world? Could it be possible, if there was some truth to the Vantha's stories, that the northern lights could open a pathway home?

His fingers tightened almost painfully around his quill, and he forced himself to shelve the thoughts for later. He couldn't allow himself to become obsessed with finding a way home. He knew that it was difficult, if not impossible, and he had seen what it had done to some of his brothers and sisters. He knew what he was like, how devoted he could become to a cause. Obsession would only consume him.

He dipped his quill in ink, listening to the lecture. He had missed some of it when his mind went off on that tangent, but it was easy to fill in the blanks. "...possess eyes that change colors according to their mood. They are one of two human subraces for whom eye color is a good identifier of race. And the other is...Mr. Satevis?"

Satevis smiled, his quill pausing in the middle of a sentence. "The Benshira," he replied. What was it that was always said of his people? Eyes like water in the desert.

"Very good," said the professor, nodding.

"Professor," said one of the students in the class, raising her hand. She was a young woman, in her late teens or early twenties, with long blond hair that she had tied back in a braid. Her fingers were stained lightly with ink, and Satevis noticed as he looked over at her that she had been furiously writing, trying to copy down everything the teacher said.

"Yes, Miss Thorne?" asked the professor, turning towards her.

"Couldn't the Svefra also be identifiable by eye color, considering their blue eyes are a feature of their race?" she asked.

"If someone did not have blue eyes, certainly you could say that they were not a member of the Svefra," said Professor Chandler. "But imagine that you met someone who had blue eyes, but none of the other distinctive cultural traits we discussed in our previous lectures. Say that this person had never been on a boat, lived far inland, and was disgusted by the taste of fish. Would you then assume that this person was a member of the Svefra, solely on the fact that they had blue eyes?"

The girl frowned, but slowly shook her head. "No, I suppose not," she said.

"However, if you happened to meet a person whose eye colors shifted constantly with their mood, even if they were not in Avanthal, would you be able to positively identify that person as a member of the Vantha?"

"I would, professor," said the girl, nodding.

"Certainly, it is a Svefra trait that every member of their race has blue eyes. But blue eyes themselves are not unique to the Svefra. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, professor."

Professor Chandler nodded, and continued, describing the Vantha's physical characteristics. Satevis copied them down beneath his brief notes on the Svefra from the exchange between the two of them. He knew that he would probably need them for the extra credit assignment he was expected to do. His quill moved smoothly over the pages, writing down the physical attributes of the Vantha people--almost always black-haired, with distinctive highlighting, delicately-featured, hardier than they appeared...His thoughts wandered as he wrote, going back to the night he had washed up in this city.

He had met a Vantha once, or at least, a man who had once been Vantha. A son of Leth--his brother in that regard.

What had ever happened to Eridanus, he wondered?

He didn't know. He had asked, but apparently, the other Ethaefal had left Zeltiva shortly after he did, five years ago. Ah, well. The Ethaefal were solitary people. It was best that he wasn't here. Proximity with other Ethaefal, although they were his family, only caused pain. They would meet again someday. All of them. And Leth and Syna would be present. He had to keep up hope that this separation would only be temporary, or risk being Forsaken.

And that would be the greatest fall...

He frowned at the grim direction his thoughts had taken, forcing himself to focus on his professor's words, his quill moving over the pages again. "...the Vantha live between eighty to one hundred years on average. Women are typically married between the ages of sixteen and twenty. An unmarried woman above age twenty is rare, and is considered an old maid. The Vantha outside of Avanthal divide into smaller settlements called Holds, of which there are seven..."

Holds... thought Satevis with a smile as he wrote down the word. Like the Benshira's tents, but it sounded like more permanent a structure than that. It was a concept that was familiar to him, although most other humans would balk at the concept of living outside of their main cities. Here was another comparison he could make between the two of them.

Perhaps the two races weren't so different after all.

[Satevis]

Satevis leaned back and stretched, shaking out his writing hand as Professor Chandler paused in his lecture. The class had been going in full swing for the past half an hour, and Satevis had been writing furiously. He didn't ask any questions on this day, instead preferring to listen to the questions his classmates asked and gauging the mood of the class. Tomorrow, he would begin to ask his own questions, once he was sure that his questions hadn't already been covered in a previous topic.

"We'll take a short break from lectures for a minute, as I have a small activity for you to do," said the professor, taking a small pouch out of his desk drawer. He shook it into his hand, revealing several small, round wooden pieces. He handed them to the boy who sat at the front of the room, giving him instructions to pass them out evenly. As he worked, the professor stepped back, addressing the class.

"I have here some samples of Vantha carving, as well as samples from other well-known non-Vantha carvers. I want you to compare the two, and write down any traits that you find unique to the Vantha carvings. Work in pairs. You are free to discuss your ideas with each other, but don't disrupt another pair's work."

Satevis frowned, looking around for someone to pair up with. The blond girl who had asked the question earlier met his eyes, and he nodded once, gathering up his things and coming to sit next to her. She had already received a set of carved beads, and was studying them intently. The girl moved to give him room as he sat in the desk next to her, setting his notes down. She smiled.

"I'm Liana Thorne," she said, holding out a hand towards him. "It's nice to meet you."

"Satevis," he said, returning the smile and shaking her hand. "And likewise."

"Are you really Ethaefal?" she asked, turning towards him. "My brother said they had a unique appearance."

"I am," replied Satevis. There were some questions that he was simply used to by now. "As a son of Leth, I take on my Ethaefal form between sunset and sunrise."

"Oh," she said. A small frown appeared on her face as her fingers moved over the beads on the desk. "It must be hard for you..."

He knew almost immediately what he was talking about. It was rare to meet someone with enough knowledge about the Ethaefal to know about their separation from their patrons, but this was the University of Zeltiva. Anything was possible. His expression darkened slightly as his thoughts turned to Leth, of the fleeting memories Satevis had of him. "I manage," he said quietly. It wasn't wholly a lie. He did manage. It just wasn't as easy as he made it sound. He turned his attention towards the beads on the desk, so that he wouldn't think about the home he had lost. Satevis picked up one of the nearest beads, rolling it between his fingers and examining the intricate carvings carefully. "Which specimen is this?"

"That is one of the Vantha carvings," replied Liana, noticing his change in subject. She didn't ask any further questions, moving her notes aside to reveal a set of three beads, resting at the top of the open boo. "These are the non-Vantha specimens. They all have a black line painted on the blank side, to tell them apart."

Satevis nodded, taking one of the non-Vantha beads from her and examining the carvings. He rolled it between his fingers, feeling the weight of the bead and the indentations made by the carver's tools as they engraved the design. He compared the three beads to the three Vantha specimens that they had been given, studying the patterns. Beside him, Liana worked quietly, her own hands going over the beads and studying them.

"The Vantha specimens tend to have animal patterns," she said after a while.

"Mm," said Satevis, writing it down on a sheet of paper. "Also, here..." He picked up a bead, rotating it between his fingers and showing her the carvings that encircled it. A man with a spear, a boat in the ocean, and a fish, then back to the man with a spear. "These beads all seem to have a small story carved onto them," he said. "The professor mentioned that they were a storytelling people, so it makes sense that that would transcend to their art."

"You're right," said Liana, taking the beads from him and examining them as well. She smiled slightly, setting them down. The girl took the sheet of paper from him, writing down what he had said. "I like doing things like this," she said as she wrote. "You can learn a lot about a people from looking at their art."

"True," said Satevis, with a nod.

"What about the Benshira?" asked Liana as they examined the beads. "What sort of art do they do?"

Satevis frowned, thinking back to his people. He still considered them his people, even though he was far from their lands and was no longer technically human. "We weave," he said. "Well, our women do. And we sing. We have many traditional songs." His mind went back to long gone days, days where he sat outside his father's tent, listening to the people around the campfire as they sang the old songs, their voices rising into the sky. His heart ached with a familiar sense of nostalgia. "Shiber is a...rough sounding language," he said. "But it becomes beautiful when sung."

"Can you sing?'

He chuckled. "Everyone can sing," he said. "But not everyone can sing well. Even in my past life, my father always said I was made more for study. I remember all the words, though." He set the bead in his hand down. "The Vantha carving is also more delicate," he said. "The cuts are lighter, more varied, and more intricate."

She nodded, picking up the quill and writing down his observations. "Someday, I'd like to visit Yahebah," she said. "And everywhere else. My brother used to think I was crazy, wanting to study cultures. He always wished I would study more practical things."

"Your brother is a student here?" asked Satevis, turning his head towards her.

Her eyes darkened, and he knew immediately that he had struck a nerve. Liana looked away, lowering her eyes to the beads in front of her. "No," she said. "Not technically. Not anymore. It's not important."

Satevis frowned, but said nothing. She didn't say anything for the remainder of the class, except to point out observations and to agree or disagree with his own. He wondered what had happened to her brother. There was grief in her eyes, and she had spoken of him in the past tense. Perhaps he had died? But then she would simply say so, wouldn't she?

At any rate, it was her secret to tell. He certainly had a few of his own.

About twenty minutes later, a chime rang overhead, signalling the end of class. Professor Chandler stood up. "Turn all your papers in," he said. "Continue reading the journals I assigned, and I will see you in class tomorrow. Don't forget to return the specimens."

"Well, see you tomorrow," said Liana, getting up and collecting the beads into her hands. She walked over to the front, handing them to the professor and exiting the classroom quickly. He got the feeling that she had been waiting for class to end--that she suddenly wanted to be alone. He understood that feeling, and wasn't offended as she left. Instead, he wrote both their names down on the top of the piece of paper and slowly began packing up his things.

By the time he finished, he was one of the last people left in the classroom. Satevis took the piece of paper up off the desk, walking over to the front of the room and handing it to the professor.

"Thank you," he said, taking it and putting it on top of the stack of papers. He picked up another list, folding it in two and handing it to Satevis. "These are the journal articles I required the class to read on the Svefra, as well as a few others that might be of assistance," he said. "Read them on your own time. The material will be covered in the final. For your extra credit assignment, I'd like you to write an essay describing one aspect of Svefra culture in detail, due two weeks from now. All of those articles are available at the library."

Satevis nodded, slipping the list between the pages of his notes. "I'll get that done," he said. "Thank you, professor."

"You're welcome," said the professor, nodding. "Good luck in your studies."

Satevis nodded in thanks, turning and leaving the room. He shut the door behind him, glancing at his timetable. Archaeology left, followed by glyphing after lunch. He put the timetable away, walking down the hallway towards his next classroom.

[Paragon]

Adventurer's Loot Satevis' Loot : Satevis Skill XP Reward Anthropology +2 Philosophy +1 Writing +2 Socialisation +1 Observation +1 Investigation +1 Rhetoric +1 Lore: Preferring the Middle Ground, Morwen's Lights, Vantha: Holds, Vantha: Life Expectancy, Liana Thorne (acquaintance) Items or Consequences: One Class Thread Complete! This was really good -- I mean it. I can see you put a lot of thought into it, so well done - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.