Closed An Apple for the Teacher? [Hadrian]

[Ayatah]

||38th of Winter, 512. || 9th bell. ||

Ayatah was nervous.

It was an unusual feeling for the woman, who had braved the Falynder Jungle countless times without a twinge of worry. She had fought rivals greater than herself, and come out alive - if a little scratched.

But this was a different battle. It was one that nobody in her clan had faced before, and the enemy was unknown. Blades, arrows and kicks would not do in this scenario. It required her wit, her being calm, and portraying herself as a scholarly student. Not a savage.

Although the opinion of Zeltiva’s locals did not hugely bother Ayatah, the opinion of the scholars within the university did. Since arriving to the city, she had been met with staring eyes and whispered comments. It had intrigued the woman how the narrow minds of the locals perceived her as a full-blooded Myrian -- when she was anything but.

It was her Eypharian blood that had her leave the Jungle, but it was her devotion to the Goddess-Queen Myri that she used as an excuse, more to herself than anyone else. I will serve my Goddess, she had repeated over and over as she crossed the sea on a wretched cargo ship.

She would, indeed, serve her Goddess-Queen, but there was a secret selfish reason as well.

Her father.

Throughout her life growing up, Ayatah had dismissed the existence of a father - which helped his absence. Her mother, however, felt no animosity for the man who had gotten her pregnant. At least, no more than a typical Myrian woman felt towards outsiders. To her, the man had been nothing but a night’s worth of entertainment - even if the outcome had been a child.

Ayatah, through her desperation to prove herself as a true Myrian, grew up disliking her father purely because it was his fault that she had dirtied blood. It was because of him that her peers had teased her as a child, and expectations of her had been so low.

But it was also because of her father’s blood that she had lusted after knowledge and scholarly victories as much as those over the Dhani or Charodae. She had excelled in the academic side of her schooling in Taloba, and been particularly fascinated with the other races.

And since she had made her decision to leave the jungle, the idea of tracking her father down - or at least learning more about him - had attracted Ayatah’s attention increasingly.

Whether or not she would find her father, or even both looking, she had not yet decided. It would be a struggle for Ayatah to swallow her pride and admit that to herself. It would be even more challenging to go to Eyktol and socialize with the people of her Father’s race.

Baby steps, baby steps. She told herself

Today was the day she would meet her mentor - Skurak! What was his name? Henry? Harry? The doubt put Ayatah in a flurry, and she slipped a hand into her satchel bag. She pulled out a piece of paper, and read the name she had scrawled onto it. Hadrian Aelius. She would need to remember that - and how she was terrible at names.

She walked briskly, her nerves making her half-run to the office she had been told to go to. Finally, she was faced with her first challenge of the day: actually knocking on the door. Ayatah hovered for a few chimes, exhaling the last of her nerves before she finally dapped on the door.

Upon hearing a voice on the other side welcoming her in, Ayatah pushed open the door and stepped to the other side.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Hadrian]

There had to be a more efficient way to deal with all this paperwork, he thought to himself. But he wouldn't let his mind dwell upon the problem, for it would try to come up with a solution, and then he wouldn't be able to think about anything else until he came up with the perfect solution. That was just how his mind worked, and he knew some ways to circumvent it. But there was a great deal waiting for him when he returned from Sahova. And he had an appointment today; there was a note from Sanderson. A knock and, ah, it must be time. He bade her enter, then rose politely to greet her. He was a good Syliran boy at heart, raised to proper etiquette. "Hello," he said, a faint smile of welcome on his face. "Come in, come in. Please, have a seat." His office was rather spartan, but he hadn't had a whole lot of time to break it in. There was a fern by the window, a brazier near the fern to keep it warm. Little odds and ends here and there, and books, of course -- most of them from the library. If the room had personality, it was odd, incomplete. Some might say the same of the man inside it. "You must be Ayatah." He paused. "Oh, please correct my pronunciation whenever necessary. One likes to be precise. Ah, I'm Hadrian Aelius. You had probably ought to call me Professor Aelius in public, or if another professor is within earshot, but here in my office you may call me Hadrian. Oh, so..." He sat back down, assuming she had taken one of the chairs in front of his desk. Then he had to flip through his papers for the intake form Sanderson would have sent. "I apologize. I love teaching students, but I hate paperwork. Oh, here it is. So... could you please summarize your educational career so far? I need to know from where we will begin." He tried a smile again, and it was understated, but sincere.

[Ayatah]

She obligingly took a seat, smiling and nodding her thanks to the man behind the desk.

He’s twelve, her thoughts told her bluntly. Indeed, Ayatah had envisioned professors in the same naivety that a child may do; old, stuffy men that what they lacked in teeth, they more than made up for in droll stories. In Taloba, the one with the most knowledge were always the eldest. Although she had imagined that Zeltiva would be very similar, she had apparently, been quite wrong.

Looking at him carefully - but wearing an expression that implied interest in what he was saying, and not bewilderment at how young he was - Ayatah inspected him. Tall, skinny - and in reality, perhaps a little older than twelve years, though not by the thirty or so years Ayatah had expected.

His comment on paperwork bought a little wry smile to her lips. Ayatah shared the distaste for loose papers. Many times she had lost her patience whilst shifting through her previous work, and simply let chaos rein supreme.

”I am afraid my educational career… is somewhat limited.” It sounded like a poor excuse, but it was a true one. Academic brilliance was not something her Myrian fellows appreciate - it was more important that one could kill something as opposed to spell it. ”I have been doing some reading on the Eypharian race, but that is all.” She had had little guidance in what to read upon, so had chased her own personal interests.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Hadrian]

"Eypharians?" he asked, storm-bright eyes tracking up to her face curiously. "Interesting." He forgot about the paper in his hand. "Their language is one of the more interesting aspects of their culture," he noted, "at least for me. I don't speak it, but I will learn someday if my own research takes me in that direction. The complexity of their language must have some effect on how magic developed among their people." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then, "Not that I'm trying to get rid of you, but there is an expedition going down to Darva this season. I'm not sure if you're interested in fieldwork. In fact..." He looked to the paperwork again. "What is it you're hoping to learn from me?"

[Ayatah]

Ayatah had read a little about the Eypharian language, but it had not been the focus of her reading. Of course, if she was ever going to visit the land in which the multi-armed race lived, speaking their lingo might be helpful…

”My father was Eypharian,” she said, ”that’s what fuels my interest in his people.”

The fact she referred to the Eypharians as ‘his’ people emphasised how she perceived herself as wholly Myrian - culturally, at least. She had received next to no education about her father’s race in Taloba, but she had had an undeniable interest in them.

At the mention of the Darva expedition, she nodded, ”I am interested in going, though I need to learn a little more about the land itself.” She shrugged her shoulders. ”as for what I want to learn… I’m not sure. Taloba is not… the most academic of places, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

And she had not yet realised how many great opportunities were available when she was in an academic place such as Zeltiva.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Pulren Marsh]

A Grade is Coming
Your Wave

Not much here, unfortunately. Ah, Zeltiva. How I miss it.

 

Ayatah

XP

• Socialization 1

Lores

• Hadrian Aelius: Teacher and Mentor
• Hadrian Aelius: Younger Than Expected

Your Grader,


Pulren Marsh