Flashback An inconstant Student (Theo Coaststrider)

[Zenobia]

10th of Summer 508 Zenobia had arrived late to the Wright Memorial Library. She had hoped, of course, to be there early in the morning in order to make the most of the day, but she had run into an old beau and now it was close to two o'clock. With a sigh, she noted that her usual spot under a large statue of the goddess Qalaya had been taken by a young blonde woman, forcing her to move to another table elsewhere. Eventually though, besides all this distraction and contradiction, she settled down to work with a large book. Today, existence, a contradictory subject if ever there was one. She flicked through the thick volume tome bound in green leather, entitled 'The Tragedy of Existence' by Huanesh Yun, these words sprawled across the front in swooping, swirling golden lettering, and found the page she meant to take notes from, in order to criticise and rebuke the ideas constructed therein completely and whole-heartedly. Critical thinking of a sort. "The basic fact about human existence is not that it is a tragedy, which it is, but that it is a bore. It is not so much a war as an endless standing in line." Zenobia narrowed her eyes at this, diligently proceeded to copy the quote down in her narrow, even writing before writing a statement underneath it. "Mr Yun, though clearly educated in these matters, seems to have neglected easy enjoyment in his analysis of existence, as exemplified by this quote. Can one not be happy with simple pleasures - watching a couple walking together hand in hand, feeling the heat of a light Summer Sun on one's bare skin, fresh bed sheets, making someone smile unexpectedly? Could Mr Yun perhaps refrain from criticising the human race? For it is not until one points out the monotony of life that the selfish start feeling sore with their lot. There are people in Mizahar who are slaves, who are prostitutes, who are starving, and since it is not these but the privileged who Mr Yun addresses in his book, he is simply stirring the fuel of discontent amongst those who have no right to be and wedging an even larger rock between the rich and the poor. On balance, he has neglected to create a fair and objective argument for what he terms the human 'tragedy'." She paused and looked to another page. "The Poor have much to be thankful for, for those who live on the edge may be allowed to experience true freedom." At this, Zenobia snorted with mild derision. What world was the writer living in? "Mr Yun makes a good point about living on the edge, though his point that poverty allows and caters for this is ridiculous. Maybe he should have visited the brothels of Zeltiva, the slave markets of Sunberth, before making such a broad, sweeping statement. Maybe he should have ventured outside the privileged area of West Street in which he lives and talked to the hungry." Zenobia looked up, and rested her chin on her left hand. Yes, the subject was interesting, but it was such a beautiful day. She looked around her at the other occupants in the Library and, though she would never have admitted it, she was not exactly looking at the women. She smiled with mild amusement. Maybe her mother was right in saying that what she needed was to spend a couple of years within a secluded Konti tribe, away from men. Though, with that said, thought Zenobia, she wasn't sure her tastes wouldn't develop with her surroundings. With this thought in mind, she made another desperate attempt to focus on her book. "Possession and Property is the enemy of Freedom, but even with such a Freedom, existence is futile." Well that's a load of rubbish.

[Theo Coaststrider]

Theo thundered his way through the library with a practised disregard for his fellow students. Something, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what, was clearly agitating him. It wasn't, he thought, that he was surrounded by mousey wastes of space who's greatest ambitions were to cloister themselves as far away from the plight of their kin as possible. Theo was, in his opinion, a generally tolerant man and on any other day he could forgive them their miserable, table scrap of a profession. It wasn't the fact that despite his best effort--and most careful analysis of the archaisms of the library filing system--he could not for life of him find the book his batty old professor had assigned him. It might, he supposed, be that he had spent nearly two weeks away from the sea and hadn't gotten himself into a single scrap, or drank so much of a drop of ale, since he arrived in this gods-forsaken mess of a city on board his father's ship. He had been racking his brain for what capital offence he had committed to warrant this exile, what sin had wrought him this fresh hell. Was it his "dalliance"--at least he had learned a few five dollar words--with those girls at The Anchorage? Had the Lia found out about him "borrowing" mother Julia's casinor? Had she noticed the missing barrel of rum? He didn't view his year long exile to Zeltiva as a fair punishment for any of those offences. It felt like his generally prudent Lia was throwing good Mizas away in an attempt to imprison him. There were plenty of perfectly good gallows in the Suvan. His mother had tried to explain to him her reasoning, that a part of his pod was being sent to deliver tons of goods along the western and northern coasts of the continent and that it was the Lia's wish that he be dropped off in Zeltivar to 'fill his empty head with something useful.' It all seemed very stupid to him, and now he was stuck in the city for nearly a year! Bringing his mind back to the task at hand he took a few powerful strides towards a young woman sitting underneath a statue. The little blonde waif of a thing was holding a thick, red leather bound tome and Theo pulled it quickly out of her hands to inspect the title. 'A Brief History of The Aktavari' was scrawled across the front of the book in large, lazy handwriting. "What a waste of time. I hope you didn't pay good Mizas for that course." He shoves the book back into the girl's hands brusquely and trots off without a second thought, leaving her to grumble her protests at his shadow. The people of Zeltiva were very strange to the young Svefra. To his eyes they were, at the same time, fiercely possessive and incomprehensibly quiet. They seemed to close themselves off from the world and retreat into themselves in a way that he hadn't encountered amongst his own folk. He repeats his highwayman routine on several other students, convinced that one of the mouse-y folk had absconded with his book. As he skims through a long list of 'Introductions to something or other' and 'brief histories' of extraordinary length he finally happens upon a large table occupied by a lonely woman with a dark complexion. She caught his eye for a moment longer than most of the other students that had been shying away from him. It seemed to Theo that her little section of the library had developed it's own aura of stillness, quiet dignity and even a certain confidence that he had found to be quite rare among the people of Zeltiva. Rather than roughly yanking the book out from under where she was writing Theo decided that it might be prudent to show a modicum of respect and sat himself down directly across from her. The tables hadn't been made for someone of his considerable height and it took a bit of bending and craning to fit himself into his position with any sort of dignity. After a few moments of his rustling and bending he leans across the table to speak to the woman. "Excuse me, but I don't suppose you're the one that's made off with 'The Tragedy of Existence,' are you?"

[Zenobia]

The page of nonsense really didn't approve as it went on for she was now reading something that could easily have been condensed into bullet points entailing twelve reasons why true freedom lies in poverty and, oh dear, celibacy. She thought she might kick in with some petty insults in the direction of the writer - which, as a student of philosophy, was probably best avoided - and his advocating of celibacy seemed, to her, to make him an easy target but, at that moment, she looked up and noticed a young Svefra causing no little disturbance. The other students visibly were not too pleased with having their books forcibly removed, ridiculed and rejected, but most just let the matter slide. Well, thought she, as long as he does not decide to remove my book, though it was a book worth ridiculing. And then he sat down opposite her, with no ease for he was a great, tall man and obviously uncomfortable in such an environment. She perceived this with no little amusement but continued looking at her page of notes with determination, looking but not exactly reading until he addressed her. "The Tragedy of Existence? Well yes, but you should thank me for it, otherwise you would be reading it and having to deal with some of the views therein expressed." she paused with a light smile, "On the other hand, maybe I should thank you for not wrenching it from my unwilling hands, as you have done with others. Do not think that that is a reprimand for, believe me, it diverted me from an odious passage about how dreadful children are when one is searching for freedom. Oh, and I suppose I am also more than gratified by the clear preference which you have allowed me. I can only imagine as to why, but it would indulge me further if you would give me your reasoning." Zenobia slowly started gathering her notes together into one neat pile (she worked so messily most of the time!) but hardly took her eyes off the character opposite her. She looked at him pensively. "You must be a Svefra."

[Theo Coaststrider]

It was a quiet dignity, but not a silent one. The confidence was certainly there and even a gentler sort of disdain. Theo liked her. In a deft motion he plucks the book out from under her and begins to flit through it quickly. While his socialization may have needed a bit of fine-tuning he was no monster, he was careful to tuck his pinky onto the page the woman was on so he didn't lose her place. The paragraphs were thick with what, as far as he could tell, a very elaborate way of saying absolutely nothing at all. After a few short minutes of scanning the book he mumbles a brief statement. "Am I supposed to follow the ridiculous instructions of this cloistered little virgin or strike out and grasp freedom for myself? If his life is such a bore he should go pick a fight or un-pinch his mizas and pay for a courtesan." His frustrations vented he looked up to face the woman. Now that he knew the book was a waste of time, he could take a moment to consider his response. Upon further consideration, she was quite pretty in her own exotic way. She certainly didn't look like any Svefra woman he had ever met, and the care with which she appeared to be measuring her words was completely alien to the young man. His folk were much more liberal with their jibber-jabber. "Guilty as charged. I'd ask what the first hint was, but the fact that I'm kneeing myself in the chin really takes a touch of the mystery out of it. I'm 'fresh off the boat' so to speak." He spoke with a lilting accent, barely attempting to mute the volume of his booming voice. Just as quickly as he had snagged the book he slipped it back towards the woman, careful to flip back to the page she had been pondering when he interrupted her. He hesitated for a moment, as if the directness of her initial inquiry had put him off balance. "As far as the special treatment, you just don't strike me as the kind of person who would respond well to someone stealing your book unannounced." His response was rather weak, considering the boisterousness with which he had entered the library with. If he was being honest, he couldn't quite figure out why he hadn't just grabbed the book. It would have been considerably easier than folding himself into this seat, there also would have been fewer probing questions. "You seem considerably more likely to 'excercise your freedom,' than the nervous mice tucked away in their little corners of the library." This answer seemed to satisfy him, even if it didn't really strike at any particularly poignant insights. He did what he did because he did. Perhaps he was more in need of a philosophy course than he had initially suspected. "And where are you from, Miss? I'm afraid I'm not quite as keen an observer as you."

[Zenobia]

"You're correct in that respects. I would not have been wholly happy to have the book snatched from me, but at least you introduced yourself before you did." Zenobia smiled and closed the book, "I memorised the page number." She started putting away her items into her bag, still sat down and indicating she was not in a rush to be anywhere, and let her eyes quickly flow from top to bottom over the figure before her. He was a very tall man - a statuesque structure, skin gilded brown by constant exposure to the Sun, topped by a wild bird's nest of golden hair. She supposed he was rather attractive and yes, he was right, there was really no mystery in his background, for she was sure she had never seen someone look so at odds with their surroundings, which was saying something acknowledging that she had lived all her life in Zeltiva, which attracted all sorts of people from every corner of Mizahar. Zenobia listened to what he said with a smile, not caring that he was speaking so loudly that he would probably get thrown out of the Library, and her with him for encouraging him in his raptures. "You'd have to be a keen observer, I think, to guess exactly the first time in regards to me. I wonder whether I should leave it a mystery to you, after all enigma is supposedly very enticing, but background is of such little importance. I was born and raised here, in Zeltiva, but my father is a Benshira Nomad and my mother an Eypharian, making me a strange little desert mongrel, brought up among the beautiful blonde pedigree ladies of the city." said Zenobia warmly with her usual coquettish laugh. She crossed her arms and leant back slightly in her chair, tossing her hair back, out of her face. "The book is not so bad, if one takes it quite satirically, which I do much too much of at any rate. I have this dreadful tendency of taking serious things frivolously and treating the frivolous with utmost seriousness. It irritates the hell out of most people." Zenobia tucked a strand of hair, which refused to stay back, behind her ear. "But then again, a lot of people irritate the hell out of me."

[Theo Coaststrider]

A brief frown crossed the young man's face. Whether he had paused to chew on what the woman had said or the ridiculousness of the few passages he had just skimmed was up for debate. It certainly wouldn't be odd for him to consider her statements for a moment before speaking. He had never met a Benshira, and had only seen a few Eypharian's in passing. The sun scorched desert seemed like a distant hell to the Svefra, a world almost completely devoid of water was a boogey-man story used to scare naughty children back at the pod, for this woman's people it was a day to day reality. As he let his mind water he realized he was being silly, she said she was born in Zeltiva. The desert was probably little more than a distant dream for her as well. Perhaps it was better to avoid that particular minefield of his own ignorance. "I wouldn't call them beautiful. I suppose they're nice enough if you wanted something to stick in a birdcage and watch from a distance, but they seem awfully fragile for the wear and tear of day to day life. They also have the manners of a pit viper and venom on their tongues!" His final sentence was elevated slightly, as if he wanted it to be clearly heard by a pocket of girls mumbling together a short distance away. His jabs taken, he leaned in to continue speaking with the woman in front of him. He was finding it difficult to formulate his thoughts, she was putting him off balance. He couldn't quite place it, but there was a layer of mystery wrapped within her coy giggle, carefully measured speech and hair tossing that was telling him to put his guard up and then pulling it right back down again an instant later. Oh well, that would have to be future Theo's problem. "That doesn't sound *so* intolerable. To hear my classmates tell it, I come from a race defined by casual frivolity. My name is Theo, by the way." Pushing any note of apprehension out of his mind he gave the woman a beaming grin. As the conversation continued he seemed to calm a bit, the wild energy that had terrorised the library just minutes before being replaced by a veneer of decorum. It wasn't that the man lacked any form of socialization and a basic grasp of manners. Theo just didn't see why he owed all the reverence of a ritual to Laviku to a gaggle of gossiping songbirds pretending to read the complete collected pontifications of a long dead virgin. "I don't suppose you would allow me to copy out your notes? I think the patience of this particular pocket of students is wearing thin and I'd rather not stick around with my nose in that book long enough to let them form a mob." His offer was a simple one, but he knew that many students had a stringent ethic around this sort of things.

[Zenobia]

"Don't I appear a little fragile? I've obviously failed in my attempt to show proof of feminine vulnerability, which I am told is a most charming quality." Zenobia let ambiguity remain as to whether or not she was joking, "It's surprising really, the large number of men - and some women - who are attracted to delicacy and frailty." She smiled though at his depreciation of the native women of Zeltiva, many of whom she numbered among her friends and though she supposed she should have been angry on behalf of them, she could not help feeling acutely flattered. "My name is Zenobia and I won't bore you with trying to explain the particulars of my surname. It's a pleasure to meet you Theo." Theo had a nice smile, she decided. Completely without any restraint or social convention inflicted on his features and emotions, which was a pleasant change. Once she saw him smiling, she realised that the rest of his face looked almost odd without it, as if it had lost some of the manic elements of his evidently wild personality. Well, presently wild personality. Zenobia remembered that, as a child, she would often parrot to her mother that she disliked forming judgements of people too quickly but her reasoning at the time was, "In case they're wrong and people laugh at me." she so detested being wrong and, though she still did, her reasoning had changed. Zenobia did not judge people for the simple fact that character analysis was one of her hobbies and, like all her hobbies, she took great pride in achieving accuracy. If one judged too quickly, one might have missed out vital elements. It was while thinking this that she almost missed his next request to copy her work. She blinked twice and raised her eyebrows before nodding. "Of course, though I must insist that if you are to hand it in to the University, you must change the wording and maybe the order slightly. That is all." At this, Zenobia stood up very quickly. "I've already packed away. Let's go somewhere and I can give you the notes there."

[Theo Coaststrider]

Theo lets out a gentle guffaw as he picks himself up from his seat. "No, I wouldn't call you fragile and I wouldn't call frailty a positive trait, or an attractive one. A man only wants a fragile women if he's trying to keep her as property." He stretched out his muscles as he pulled himself out of a cramped position. It was nice to be back at his normal height and not awkwardly confined. Theo might not be a erudite philosopher of any great reading, yet, but he had his opinions. It hadn't taken him long to make up his mind on the cloying relationships of the Zeltivans, these were a sickly people who *would* treasure a quietness and frailty in their women. Shaking his head gently he turned toward Zenobia. "Let's go to the tavern down the road. I heard from my folk that they had a small supply of kelp beer delivered the other afternoon and I'd hate for it to go to waste." He still hadn't quite acquired a taste for the Zeltivan's Kelp beer, but it would have to do. The cities extreme remoteness cut them off from easy access to the "real" liquors of the continent and Theo wasn't nearly wealthy enough, or welcome enough, to frequent the upper class taverns that dotted the city. It was a shame, he had a feeling that Zenobia wasn't a complete stranger to some of the better things in life. He considered the woman for a moment, now that she had stood. Her figure was striking, and it suddenly wasn't so surprising that he found it difficult to keep his guard up. Her patient dignity was an easy foil to his own energy and it seemed to be having a calming effect on the man. He hadn't felt this at ease since he stepped off "The Dawnbringer" and registered with the port authority. "I appreciate you letting me borrow your notes. I won't be copying them though, skimming them just saves me having to drag around that reprehensible text."

[Zenobia]

"Ah, well, if you want some real Kelp Beer, and although there are many establishments a good deal closer, we'd have to go to the Kelp Bar. It's around by the docks and therefore, because of the nature of the establishment and the strong alcohol it sells, mainly frequented by sailors and shipyard workers. Of course, there is always a poet or two, trying to soak up the atmosphere. On the other hand, the Dancing Donkey always has a little Kelp Beer handy, though their prime seller is wine. It's closer, home to less drunken laughter and shouting and a different experience entirely. More expensive too so I don't know what to recommend. It's your call." Zenobia paused, waiting for his answer, "I don't like Kelp Beer, but since I have been meaning to acquire some taste for it, there is no time like the present." That was almost an understatement really, saying that she didn't like Kelp Beer - she loathed it. Her Mother, who had been brought up in one of the many gilded palaces of Ahnatep, had once made comparison between a man's lifetime Kelp Beer intake and their likelihood of developing degenerative diseases, a fair comparison to be just but Zenobia knew full well it was the food of her mother's snobbism, fuelled by her dislike of anything raucous or coarse or vulgar. When they were both standing, she was quite patently dwarfed by Theo's great height - not that it bothered her. "I understand." she said with a smile, in response to his criticism of the book, "And I appreciate that." She started walking gracefully towards the exit of the library, then stopped suddenly and tossed her head around in a flurry of curls to look at Theo. "Are you coming?"

[Theo Coaststrider]

Much to the relief his fellow students, Theo cut a direct line out of the library. It wasn't such a bad place, the statues that were sprinkled throughout the space were absolutely gorgeous, but he hadn't acquired a taste for the crowd. "I'll take it you don't know many Svefra. I'm no hard sell on the docks, it will be nice to be down near the water for a change and it won't kill me to hear a bit of song and merry-making after an hour in this tomb."

He shortened his gait to keep pace with the woman as they wound their way out of the library and down towards the docks. It was a very different experience walking through the city than it was strolling through the anchorage. Without the constant sloshing of the sea and whispers of the sails it seemed...quiet. As he idly chatted with his companion he considered some of the texts he had been reading on "existence" since he had arrived. It seemed, to him at least, a rather broad topic and he got the impression that the goal was for each student to make their own way through the inquiry.

“To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.”

He had been mulling the little aphorism considerably since he had happened upon it. It had a certain ring to it, even if he couldn't quite grasp the full meaning. For Theo, life had presented relatively few changes, the pod, the sea and his responsibilities had been more or less constant since he was a small child and, if he wanted, he suspected he could continue that life unchanged until Laviku chose to take him back.

“Liberty consists in doing what one desires”

This maxim had a much greater appeal to the young Svefra. "So you're going to have to tell me a little bit more about yourself, Zenobia. My family would have me cast out into the desert if they knew I was wandering the streets with a complete stranger, my people are known for their strict morals and hard stance on chastity."

He couldn't finish his sentence without breaking out into a rolling chuckle. As they made their way towards the water his accent, a curious pattern of off-beat inflections and rolled syllables became thicker.