81st Summer 513AV. The Enclave.
Two Avora had stopped by the Craft Gallery that morning, Johanne tending her stand with all the tender loving care she could afford. Here in this strange city of birds and stone, sometimes the only things Johanne could cling to were the arts she had once known: making paper, binding books. She had had an import of leather, cured and tanned in Thunder Bay, making its way in a caravan up the long and winding Pass, brought first to the armorers and second to the craftsmen. With a thin crafts knife Johanne had borrowed from the tailor the next stall over, she was cutting the leather into a size big enough to be wrapped around a collection of parchment, to make her own leather notebook.
Then the Avora had come. Their heads held high, near the top of the food chain they had nothing to fear. Johanne could do nothing when they asked for two of her notebooks for a discounted price. Handing them over, she received a pittance for them, putting the pinions dejectedly into her moneybox. But that was not all.
"Foreigner, you Common speak, yes?" Their Common was crude, but the message came across easily enough.
"Yes, I speak Common." Johanne nodded in the affirmative. The Avora looked at each other, and then the tall man spoke.
"The Enclave teach us how to speak it. A seminar. Do you know of it?"
"No..." But it was the wrong answer. Looking at each other in disappointment, the two Avora left her stall, leaving Johanne's mind reeling.
Without thinking, without finishing cutting out her leather, without neatening her desk, Johanne picked up her satchel and moved, quickly winding through the Warrens to the Enclave. She had visited the library before, but Johanne could not get enough of the smell of books, and the prospect of a seminar on them was tantalising. Quickly, once there, she made her way to the front desk.
"Excuse me, but the seminar... where is it?" Johanne could only hope the Inarta woman behind the desk would know what she meant, but the learned girl simply rolled her eyes and pointed to the back, where the classrooms were. Quickly, Johanne walked through, and into the seminar.
Two of the Avora were there, with ink and quills and the notebooks Johanne had sold them not chimes before. A few other Inarta were scattered around the room, and at the front of the room stood a blonde tanned merchant. An outsider. Just like her.
Quickly and quietly, Johanne scooted into a seat and waited for the class to begin.
xTwo Avora had stopped by the Craft Gallery that morning, Johanne tending her stand with all the tender loving care she could afford. Here in this strange city of birds and stone, sometimes the only things Johanne could cling to were the arts she had once known: making paper, binding books. She had had an import of leather, cured and tanned in Thunder Bay, making its way in a caravan up the long and winding Pass, brought first to the armorers and second to the craftsmen. With a thin crafts knife Johanne had borrowed from the tailor the next stall over, she was cutting the leather into a size big enough to be wrapped around a collection of parchment, to make her own leather notebook.
Then the Avora had come. Their heads held high, near the top of the food chain they had nothing to fear. Johanne could do nothing when they asked for two of her notebooks for a discounted price. Handing them over, she received a pittance for them, putting the pinions dejectedly into her moneybox. But that was not all.
"Foreigner, you Common speak, yes?" Their Common was crude, but the message came across easily enough.
"Yes, I speak Common." Johanne nodded in the affirmative. The Avora looked at each other, and then the tall man spoke.
"The Enclave teach us how to speak it. A seminar. Do you know of it?"
"No..." But it was the wrong answer. Looking at each other in disappointment, the two Avora left her stall, leaving Johanne's mind reeling.
Without thinking, without finishing cutting out her leather, without neatening her desk, Johanne picked up her satchel and moved, quickly winding through the Warrens to the Enclave. She had visited the library before, but Johanne could not get enough of the smell of books, and the prospect of a seminar on them was tantalising. Quickly, once there, she made her way to the front desk.
"Excuse me, but the seminar... where is it?" Johanne could only hope the Inarta woman behind the desk would know what she meant, but the learned girl simply rolled her eyes and pointed to the back, where the classrooms were. Quickly, Johanne walked through, and into the seminar.
Two of the Avora were there, with ink and quills and the notebooks Johanne had sold them not chimes before. A few other Inarta were scattered around the room, and at the front of the room stood a blonde tanned merchant. An outsider. Just like her.
Quickly and quietly, Johanne scooted into a seat and waited for the class to begin.
