"Does anything we've found here explain the draw you've felt to this place, Wisps?"
Akoril wonders aloud "I wonder if there was something here... something important that's gone now."
"Was the leader of the serpentfolk using this room to craft whatever it was that drew you and the other anadi?" Chimwemwe wonders. "I wonder if the serpentfolk was summoning the insects to campus, and Stone Ghost and the gremlins simply took advantage of them. But that was not their actual reason for being here."
"We've found some strange things here, but nothing really explains what all of the anadis have been feeling."
Outside Tzeniwe, Gosss, Masta, and Savana eagerly await you. What happened? Is it safe to go inside?
The three Anadi seem very interested in the building. After you explain what happened inside, Goss exclaims: We don't like our dorm! They're still mean to us! We should move in here and it can be our own place!
Tzeniwe frowns. It would have to be cleaned out… but no one's using it, that's for sure… I don't know… what do you think?
"I'm worried that you would be even more isolated in here by yourself. I suppose that isn't worse than being somewhere with people that make you miserable, though."
Goss looks at Alrinkiri. We can have a housewarming party!
----
You should report to Jatembe. He happens to be in his office with Ot, they grow quiet when you knock.
We were just talking about our star pupils! Have you found anything interesting?
"I could uhh come visit." suggests Akoril awkwardly.
"Yes. The, hmm, snakes need to be relocated. And serpentfolk to be handed over," Chimwemwe says. "The frogs from the pond could satiate them. Make them easier to handle. The snakes. Not the serpentfolk. Maybe Teacher Koride would house them. But then it would be safe."
"Teacher Janatimo," Chimwemwe begins, "We discovered a pair of serpentfolk hiding in an old storehouse. They have a leader who has hidden sects around the city if the ones we captured can be believed. They are still secured within the storehouse. They had installed magical curses--Wisps and I were afflicted--and golems to guard a workshop where their leader may have been creating the thing that drew all the insects and the anadi to the school."
Akoril clumsily interrupts "Me too, I was cursed that is."
Janatimo is alarmed at the news. We will have to keep an eye on this. An interesting theory, Chimwemwe.
Ot takes the spies to the city watchmen — the Chime-Ringers — for processing. Nantambu is a place that believes in rehabilitation; the presence of Serpentfolk cells throughout the city means they need to be kept under close guard, and everyone is on alert now.
Over the coming days (given time to prepare spells) Ot also de-curses you for free.
Oba's zoo is running a more legitimate operation thanks to your efforts, but she still wants nothing to do with the school. Thus, the snakes are handed over to Koride, who has the leshies build a pen until she can find time for an expedition to free them. She enjoys getting students to extract venom for research, using them to "demonstrate" the dangers of nature to students who aren't careful.
Mariama can't help but gloat about serpentfolk spies. Told you so! Maybe people will LISTEN to me now!
Spring blossoms, and so do relationships. Things are changing.
☀☀☀
Okoro and Ignaci move into Ignaci's room, throwing the delicate ecosystem of the dorms out of balance as another room opens up for the taking. After much infighting the students convert the room into a gaming space, complete with a large table, dice trays, and shelves and shelves of games and rulebooks.
Chizire begins distilling and bottling Boukha (a clear spirit made from fermented figs), with the intention of selling it but is too lazy to follow through and soon a hundred bottles are piled up in his room. Soon they are spilling out into the hallway.
Haibram wins the championship against the MECHA-LESHIES, using fire to burn the constructs to the ground; he's recruited to the Tempest Sun mages by Mafika and soon helping teach martial arts lessons on the quad; they form a "dojo" of students who aim to one day win the Ruby phoenix tournament. The top students in the dojo are given bomber jackets with badass leopards stitched on the back. Mariama, vindicated in her theory, starts a conspiracy club on campus; the newest theory involves the cryptic messages found around campus and their connections to demonic forces (you know who). She starts to fall behind in school.
The anadi move into the old building once it's made safe. it's a new place for parties, especially ones that go late into the night because the place is removed from the other buildings on campus. The anadi (including Tzeniwe and Wisps) still feel an echo of what pulled them there, but it seems to be gone for now.
☀☀☀
Binji has learned to read, so her job board is no longer pictorial. One day she notices that the Magaambya's mission is one of service… helping others. She looks to Akoril. Students help! Binji helps! Why can't Binji be student? Then she help more!
Zachva and Zanvi are taking preschool lessons with other kids from the city, in the Magaambya's after school program that's run by volunteer Conversants (a rank higher than you). They have a rocky start because they prefer spider form and approach Wisps about it instead of their mom. "Auntie Wisps, it makes mom sad when we have problems with the other kids. So we don't wanna ask her. How can we be ourselves in school? Sometimes the other kids are mean to us."
Esi starts to fall behind in her studies compared to the rest of you. Her star is descending, and she notices. One morning, after 48 hours of caffeine and sleepless studying, she comes home weeping. She throws the lab report from Koride onto the ground, marked up in magically-enhanced bright red ink. She throws herself into a chair in Chim's room. Mom's going to KILL me. A "B-"?! She holds her head in trembling hands. It's no FAIR! I was here first! I SHOWED YOU around! You're not supposed to be BETTER than I am! She pauses. I'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that… Exhausted, over-caffeinated, she breaks down weeping.
One day Noxolo and Soomdevi are watching dust motes in the graveyard. Bounty hunters in town. She puffs a clove. Whatever. They're looking for a man. She is silent for long minutes. Ya know, they cared enough to plan everything for me. All the details for my whole life. Everything they told me I should want. She stares at a mote. Told me. Sometimes, I feel bad about running. She shrugs. I mean, whatever, right!? Soomdevi knows his friend is asking a question. Should she feel guilty?
It was then that the powers came. She started hearing the dead birds whispering to her. They told her where she could be free to truly be herself, and where the past would be dead forever. The Magaambya.
As her self-confidence grows, Anchor Root finds that she's brave enough to attend concerts alone; she gets there early and doesn't;t talk to anyone, and stands in the very front row staring at floor and gently bobbing her head to the music even when the band plays heavy songs. She records the events on rhythm bones and begins sharing the music among the other students. Word is getting around and pretty soon people are trading and sharing bones in a sort of club. One night at a Mithrilica concert Root almost has her rhythm bones confiscated! Seems the band caught wind of it and wants to get PAID for ALL their recordings, and hired security forces to look for a small gnoll and confiscate any and all bones from her. Luckily, Alrinkiri was able to help her sneak away without getting caught (after extracting Lucky bones from the mosh pit, of course). Root cries a little afterward. It's not fair! Music should be SHARED, right? And I thought Mithrilica was cool — that's so not metal. Alrinkiri, will you help me sneak into concerts and make more recordings, or do you think I should stop?
☀☀☀
In addition to these moments, you can make a branch advancement check. If you are maxed out on your branches now, you can try to befriend another student with a check related to their interests.
When you are complete with this, please level up.
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"If it makes you happy, I think you should continue" Alrinkiri replies. "Do you know where the next concert is going to be? These venues aren't exactly fortresses. There must be a dozen ways inside, and plenty of places to stash a rhythm bone where no one will notice it." After a few moments of thought, they continue. "Let's go do a little scouting of the next venue tomorrow. We'll find a way in and stash one of your bones inside, somewhere that no one will notice, but that will get a good recording when the band starts playing. That way, all you have to do is switch it on and leave it alone while you enjoy the show. Then we'll sneak back in the next day and retrieve it! If you don't have the bone on you, then they can't confiscate it, right? And if they find you there a few times without any rhythm bones on your person, they'll probably stop bothering to check."
---------
Alrinkiri joins Haibram's quad dojo, glad to have a standing opportunity to train with other students. They attend regularly, selecting a new sparring partner as often as possible, hoping to learn a variety of techniques to add to their repertoire. They frequently find themselves surprised by the creativity and unusual styles of their fellow students, which in turn pushes them to adapt and innovate in their own fighting style.
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Chimwemwe smiles at Esi. ”It’s alright,” he says, brushing away the unintentional insult with a wave of his tattooed hand. He closes the lid on his herpetarium and takes a puzzle box off of a shelf. Resting one hand on Esi’s shoulder, he offers her the puzzle box with the other. ”My father made these for me. He would give them to me when I was upset or stressed.” He looks out the window and smiles to himself briefly.
He crouches down beside the chair and balances on the balls of his feet. ”You put so much of your self into being the best student. That grade challenges your identity. But, for one thing, you’re not defined by Teacher Koride’s grades, which I’m pretty sure are influenced more by her mood and the moon phases than the actual value of the work. I even made a chart.” He chuckles and offers her a patterned scarf to wipe her face.
Chimwemwe continues. ”For another, Lirgeni astrology teaches that all things in creation wax and wane and wax again. The moon is not always at his brightest every night. The sun does not own the same amount of the day every time she crosses the sky, though I read that it is easier to see this closer to the poles than here in the Mwangi. So too do our star signs rise and fall, draw nearer and further, and influence our strengths and our weaknesses.”
He stands up and pats Esi’s arm. ”Speaking of strengths and weaknesses. Did I tell you about the ceramic golem outside the storehouse? That thing handed my hind end to me on a plate. But I got up–after Wisps stopped my liver from bleeding–and continued on–to nearly get my kidney lacerated by a serpentfolk–”
He shakes his head and laughs. ”I’m losing my point! Those are not good examples! Let’s go up on the roof, and I’ll read your stars. Maybe I can identify a tactic that will work for you to convince Teacher Koride to revise your grade. But even if she doesn’t, you’re still brilliant and resolved Esi Djanai.” The Lirgeni flushes and awkwardly changes the subject. ”After that, you can help me with the insane assignment that Zuma gave me: tell five truths with seven lies. What does that even mean?”
Chimwemwe hands Teacher Ot a thesis on how the traditionally simplest of magical manifestations–cantrips–could be modified by subtle alterations calculated on a astronomic scale. Shields could manifest as wall-like barriers, magical hands could be amplified to knock a person back or more tightly controlled to allow fine manipulation, and other such ideas.
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Wisps's face falls as the kids reach out to her, but she quickly plasters on a bright smile.
"You don't have to hide who you are. The other kids just aren't used to seeing anadis in spider form, though. Maybe you can bring in something to share with them? Your favorite toys or we can even make cookies! We should substitute nuts for the crickets, though."
Akoril talks with Binji
"Maybe you could... I'm not sure what we have to do, but lets find out."
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Alrinkiri can be seen walking around with their own jacket, and gets quite good at practicing throws with Haibram near the Soaring Spire where combat bouts are a lot more fun. At night they help Root plant rhythm bones under the stage at the upcoming Sovereign show (he's performing the complete Purple Reign) and though she's searched Root makes it out! The recording sounds excellent.
☀☀☀
Thank you. Says Esi. They go up on the roof and look at the stars together late into the night…
Ultimately Chimwemwe finds that the "B-" is deserved — though some of Koride's comments are a bit harsh — Esi was just pushing herself too hard. Helping Chimwemwe with his paper (which is ultimately about the narrative that we have of our lives from within is fundamentally a lie), helps get her back on track. The break helps her slow down and refocus; soon she's getting straight A's again. Sometimes you have to go slow to go fast, I guess…
☀☀☀
Akoril talks to Ot about Binji's education, and her desire to become a student and help others. The teacher chuckles. Her heart is in the right place. What more can we ask? You can sponsor anyone for the university yourself, once you are raised to the rank of conversant. He thinks. She would go through the same process as you did… though perhaps some remedial schooling would be a good idea first? Do you think you could help her learn?
☀☀☀
Wisps, Zachva, and Zanvi make two batches of cookies: "Arrrgghhhh" sugar cookies shaped like pirate hats with sugar glazing and "Chocolate Chirpie" where half the sweets inside are chocolate chips and the other half are crickets. You never know what you'll get in each bite. Surprisingly, the cricket cookies are a hit with the kids after some of the tougher kids in the school eat them on a dare!
|
In the graveyard, Soomdevi scoffs at the mention of bounty hunters.
"They're not going to find him," Soomdevi says with confidence.
Blinks sleeps curled up at Soomdevi's side, and Soomdevi strokes the shadow hound's spiky fur.
"Have you thought about writing to your family and telling them all is good with you? It might not stop them, but it might help you feel less guilty."
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Noxolo bobs her head to an imaginary beat as she thinks, always dancing. Maybe. If can get it posted from Absalom or something.
Wisps writes about the strange building that draws all the anadis, inventing possible reasons for its effects.
At the end of the spring semester, a kingfisher finds Soomdevi as he returns from a mission to the perfrieied forests of the Shadow plane for Koride. Another one chirps at Wisps from the window while she bakes with Tzeniwe and the kids. A third one alights on Alrinkiri's shoulder after they throw Haibram 60 feet into the air near the Soaring Spire. Another one picks a flea off Akoril's carpet and still another lands on a log at Frog Pond where Chim is trying to show mariama the frogs aren't actually cursed.
Each holds a letter.
My dear pupil–
You’ve exceeded the Magaambya’s high expectations of its students. You’ve shown that you are ready to expand the scope of your connections and your magical studies, learning how magic and the world both shape each other.
Because of this, I am pleased to advance you to the rank of conversant. You will represent the school to the outside world while you continue your studies. This representation is significant, and it reflects the trust the Magaambya is ready to place in you.
It’s true that your advancement is unusually rapid, but your services and exploits have been unusually admirable. I, and many others, feel this advancement is long overdue.
Please give this invitation to an associate with whom you wish to attend our small ceremony — someone special to commemorate your promotion. Join us at dusk a week from today. I’ll ask you to speak briefly about how you see magic being most useful in the world, so please think about that in the meantime.
I know I’ll be telling your tales one day.
—Teacher Janatimo
Akoril paces back and forth, worrying.
One invite... mom or dad... They both attended. Dad taught me my first spell, but mom taught me to string my first bow and about the magics of the world. I'm sure they'd both be so proud. Maybe I should just send them an invite and make them deal with it. "Dear Parents, I have one invite to share for my Conversant rank up. Looking forward to seeing whichever of you attends". That feels pretty cowardly though.... hmmm."
"Hey Benji... I've got a problem... Any ideas?"
Binji help! Binji puts down her doll and runs over to read the invitation out loud. "Please give this in-in-in-vi-ta-tion to an a-a-a-as-so-ci-ate…"
She scratches behind her ear. Binji would… Binji would… The grimple thinks for a solid minute, then wags her tail as she comes up with an idea. Bury note in garden, hide under blankets! She smiles at Akoril, proud of her solution. That way, no feelings hurt!
Passing by with his own note in his pouch, Chimwemwe comments, "That's not a bad idea, Binji!"
The students have a variety of reactions to the news.
Wow so special good for you says Ignaci when he finds out. Okoro says You might make at least a superficial attempt to be nice.
Esi runs off to do her homework — muttering something about "catching up."
Mariama examines the letter. It may be a forgery! Be careful…
Haibram gives Alrinkiri an enthusiastic high-five that huirts their palm.
Anchor Root asks Akoril to record it all with a Rhythm Bone so the dorm can listen in later.
Chizire yawns. Mmmm. Sounds like you got tricked into doing more work.
Tzeniwe gives you all hugs. The spiderlings are worried that you will move out at first — especially Wisps — but are happy after they are reasurred that you'll still be living in the dorm.
Noxolo just says Cool and watches motes of dust.
Of course Goss, Savana, and Mazta are thrilled for you.
Wisps writes home, inviting her father, who attended the Magaambya himself, to attend the ceremony.
"I wish that I could invite my mother," Chimwemwe comments to Soomdevi while doing chores around the dormitory. "She would love to see the Magaambya. My father would, too, but he'd be more interested in the clockworks in Nantambu than the school. Hmm. Not that he wouldn't, hmm, wouldn't appreciate my accomplishment. Anyways. Even if they could get a message to them by magic, Jaha isn't really, hmm, safe to teleport near, and the journey is far too dangerous for my mother to take alone."
It’s time to go to the ceremony, which is to take place in Whistle Tower. You wear your nicest outfits, and bring your masks!
The atmosphere in this lavishly decorated room in Whistle Tower is congenial and lively. People talk in several small groups about magic, politics, philosophy, education, and more.
--
Wisp's father is here, returned from his travels. He beams proudly at Blazing Spider and brought her a fine silk robe that everyone in the village contributed to weaving.
Akoril's elven mother is there; she brings him a bowstring from home… as well as a letter from his father.
--
Noxolo dances and shrugs as Zuma tries to recruit her for his latest play, which will be an avant-garde dance show featuring silence instead of music. Mafika gives you high-fives (a complex one involving a few martial-arts moves for Alrinkiri). Ahassunu asks you to sign her copy of Glimmer rain. Koride has also brought a fearsome-looking bearded vulture to the soirée — she sips her wine and openly smirks whenever it startles or annoys a guest.
--
In the center is a large round table is laden with food. “Smart, to put it in the middle of the room,” opines Chizire casually as he picks up a mango tart and pops it into his mouth. “In case any Kurshkins shoot fireworks at us, that is. Mmmmmmmm.” He licks his fingers.
The amurrun yawns and looks at Alrinkiri and Chimwemwe "So… who did you invite, anyway?"
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Alrinkiri discreetly asks Okoro to attend, offering their thanks for his help in learning the Uzunjati methods of study as they explore their own past.
You have helped me as well, Alrinkiri. Thank you again for saving me from that terror in the greenhouse.
Okoro is working on an assignment for Koride about dragons so he pesters Akoril's Ekujae mother with question after question about their ancient enemy Dahak — what did the dragon-god eat? Did he like rotten food? What was his breath like? What shape were his teeth? (Some of you may note that Koride's assignment is about the scavenged diet of Komodo Dragons, not DRAGONS!)
It's Ignaci in disguise!
It looks like the young spy is here to observe the proceedings himself, and perhaps a little jealous his boyfriend was invited.
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Wisps's father wears his own mask: an elegant scene of the night sky with a glittering moon.
Wisps wears her new robe with pride. She wonders about whether anyone knew that he was an anadi before, but her openness has probably revealed his own heritage.
She does, however, take the opportunity to ask, "Do you feel anything strange here? A draw to this place? Is it different than when you first came?"
"Esi," Chimwemwe answers succinctly, knowing that that amurrun would grow bored and disinterested before he even finished explaining how he unfortunately invited her at the last minute, having debated internally too long who he wanted at the ceremony and fearing how one invitation might make another feel. However, outside his cohort and other than Teacher Ot, Esi had done the most to make Chimwemwe feel at home at the Magaambya from the very start and had been a constant support during his studies.
Wisp's father smiles when he sees how pleased she is with the robe. I never told anyone I was anadi. You are making the world a better place. He turns his moon-mask sharply toward her when she asks about being drawn to the campus. I thought that I must be nostalgic for this place… but yes… I do feel something. How odd.
☀☀☀
Koride brings Soomdevi a glass of wine; she looks a little tipsy. Wine's the only way to get through these tiresome ceremonies. When one must attend. She hands him a pale, ringed stone shot through veins of black. Did you know the mwangi jungle in the shadow plane is petrified?. This is a sliver of shadow-mahogany. Consider it a good luck charm for the next stages of your journey. She blatantly snubs all of the other students at the gathering, spending the bulk of her time sipping wine and feeding her pet vulture the finest hors devours.
Esi gives Chim an antique Lirgeni volvelle. I wanted to give you something astrological as a "thank you" for helping me and as a memento of reading the stars… I purchased it from an antique vendor in town. She laughs. I'm still not happy you're getting promoted, but I'll catch up — and surpass you! It's meant to be!
Okoro gives Alrinkiri a gift too. Ahh. I almost forgot, so distracted talking to that fascinating elf woman about the fearsome Dahak. She seemed annoyed. Well anyway… I was researching post-earthfall civilizations for history class and came across a small drawing upon a misplaced scroll fragment down in the stacks. I reproduced it as best I could. He hands Alrinkiri a drawing — as always Okoro's attention to detail and artistic skill is marvelous. An impossibly-thin arch soars above a clouded gorge that might be thousands of feet deep. Upon the bridge rise towers and minarets; organic garden pathways grow below like the roots of a magnificent tree, dangling into the void. A flock of mechanical birds is wheeling out of the cloud cover in the near distance. Akoril experiences dizzyingly intense deja-vu.
☀☀☀
In a moment Janatimo rings his glass, calling for quiet.
“Friends, I am glad that you have all made it here to mark the growth of several of our students. They have proven that their studies don’t register in their minds as mere theory or academic exercise, but as a force that they can use to influence the world at large and in turn be influenced by it. Magic is not a tool we use, but a living thing that we experience and embody. Becoming a conversant means that these students take this understanding and expertise out into the world.
“But before we welcome them officially, I’d love to have each of our advancing students tell you for themselves what is the best use of their magic out in the world.”
Janatimo turns to you. It's time for a speech.
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Akoril tucks the letter away close to his heart, waiting until after the ceremony to read the letter in private. His speech is a bit awkward which is not surprising given Akoril frequently freezes up a little bit when called on to speak in front of large groups.
He does manage to make a few salient points at least. "The study of magic has always been integral to my life but it wasn't until here that I learned how magic flowed through and interacted with everything. Before I merely dabbled in the arcane, using it as tools for my own purpose, but now I see how it's part of everything, not something we can control as we please, but a greater force that flows through everything that we can tap into and influence just as magic taps into and influences us."
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Alrinkiri slowly pads to the center of the room, where they sit and scan the faces of those around them. "I would like to tell you a story if I may.
"There once was a sailor, lost and alone aboard a small and leaky boat. With sails torn and ropes frayed they drifted, tossed about by the sea and the storm with no control. They drifted for so long that they began to forget. They forgot the faces of their friends and family. They forgot the name of their home town. Eventually, they forgot the sight of land altogether. They drifted alone and without aim or purpose or hope.
"The sailor continued in this way until one day, as they stared into the endless sky, a strange shape appeared, gliding through the air with grace and joy. So long had they drifted they had lost all memory of this creature, but oh how it wheeled and danced through the sky. They watched, transfixed, until it wheeled away from them and began to recede. To lose such a sight so soon would be unbearable, they though, so they began to paddle with a broken board, urging their boat forward as the bird--for so it was, though they did not remember--danced overhead.
"The sailor's eyes were so taken by the soaring bird that it was not until it dove down to snare a fish that they realized they were near an even stranger sight! Another boat, its sails whole and full of the wind, sailed ever closer until they could hear the shouts of the fisherman aboard it. Our sailor, of course, had long ago forgotten how to speak, but that did not stop the fisherman. Though his nets were yet empty, he threw a rope with a hook and he towed the sailor all the way back into harbor where he gently helped the sailor ashore.
"You can no doubt see how the story goes from there, so I will allow your imaginations to fill the following days and weeks and months. The sailor learned the name of town, and of the people, and of their friend the fisherman. They learned again the joy of a warm fire and a hot meal and happy song. They learned to fish, and to sail, and to throw a rope, and they learned how not to be alone.
"The sailor studied maps of the sea and spoke with the other sailors, who knew winds and the depths and the stairs. They repaired their boat and charted a course and laid in supplies, and when one day, the sun shining and a strong breeze blowing off shore, they sailed away from this town again, it was with a smile and with a purpose and, most importantly, with others. They sailed out, their small boat one of many leaving harbor to fish or to trade or to travel. They followed the coast or the wind or the stars, always with another in sight, ready to help with a stout rope should the need arise. They carried their hope with them, that one day they would find their way home. Just as importantly, though, they carried the memory of that town, in that small harbor; of the people who welcomed them, who taught them, who prepared them to brave the ocean again. Most importanly, they carried their own rope and a hook, just in case they met someone lost and adrift upon the waves."
Their tale done, they rise and pad back to their seat.
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Wisps speaks deliberately.
"I am blessed with many gifts. The magic of stories. The magic of fire." She forms a blaze in her hand to emphasize.
"Fire is not good or evil on its own. It is simply a thing. A fire can be used to burn and kill or to warm and nourish. Stories are the same. Stories can give us hope or teach us lessons, but they can also turn us against each other."
"I resolve to use all of my gifts thoughtfully. To make sure that my fire is used to help. That my stories are louder than those that tell us to hate each other."
She closes her hand and the fire goes out, leaving wisps of smoke that dissipate into the air.
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"Wait, hold on, it's petrified?!" Soomdevi takes the stone from Koride in awe. "I need to see that jungle!"
later, Soomdevi waits his turn, applauding for his friends, then steps to the center of the room. He nods to the crowd and holds back a smile. He is proud and excited, but wants to play it cool.
"The best use of my magic, huh? So many choices. Has it been to make friends?" He looks to his cohort, to Noxolo, even to the nondescript Bonuwat man in the back.
"To learn, and grow, and take risks in my studies?" He looks to Koride and her buzzard.
"Maybe it's been to thwart attacks, and threats against the Magaambya itself." He gives a shrug. "Whatever. Who wouldn't have, right?"
"No, I think it's been all that and more. All that, and the pursuit of a dream I've had since I was young. A dream that, as Zuma would argue, isn't a dream at all because it's real, an actual thing that exists, as all of you here can attest. A dream that can be achieved, and that I hope we can continue to achieve together. Not only for ourselves, but for those who will come after us, you know?"
He smiles then, sincere, fangs and all.
But can't help undercutting himself with, "Rah, rah, Magaambya, and all that." Before he gives up the center of the circle, and slips back into the crowd.
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"It's perfectly, hmm, perfect!" Chimwemwe says with a flush and smile as he takes the volvelle. "Thank you," he says sincerely to Esi before adding, "We are all where we are meant to be when we are meant to be there."
--<>--
Chimwemwe moves to the point of attention to speak. He clears his throat nervously a few times. "I cannot, hmm, cannot match Alrinkiri's allegory. That was deeply insightful," he says with a smile and nod toward the automaton.
With no more ways to procrastinate, he begins. "When I was young, I watched my father help people with his craft. A man with no magic repaired bridges and built pulley systems that allowed other people with no magic to fly over the deep sea between the constructed islands of Hyranteum. When we moved to the mainland, he constructed aqueducts and irrigation systems that created water in the fields during the dry season. The people of the village would have that power even after we moved away. They were not reliant upon a cleric or druid to share the magic. My father gave the magic to them.
"My mother--who did have her own magic--helped others in ways without magic. She taught others what plants possessed what properties, what they looked like, and how to find them as well as the instructions on how to prepare them and combine them so that people without magic could bring healing to their loved ones. She wrote books to carry her teachings to far away people and well beyond her life. Hmm. She's alive. I mean, hmm, hmm, the books will last longer than a, hmm, a human lifespan.
He pauses to get his words under control. He goes on to explain how his work is designed to make the benefits of magic more accessible to everyone no matter how great or small their status in the world.
Everyone in the room listens intently. Well, except Koride who seems rather tipsy and bored. Each of you earns enthusiastic applause.
Janatimo stands. “Thank for showing us where your understanding begins — that magic is all around us, can be a tool to pass down a kindness or drown out hate, a living dream that grows beyond ourselves to be shared by all and help —
Binji tumbles out of the centerpiece where she was precariously perched… right into the spicy mangoes. Fleas dance among the chili-flecks.
Janatimo pauses for just a beat. — the world. I look forward to seeing how your understanding deepens and evolves as a conversant.”
☀☀☀
While Binji cleans up her mess people stay to chat and eat for while, wishing you well and striking up conversations about your studies. Mariama passes Soomdevi a note that says no demons spotted… not inviting me was a clever plan to throw them off the scent! The note then spontaneously combusts (happenstance or magic?) On the way out she makes a silly face at Esi, who just rolls her eyes at the rules-breaking Chaos Magnet.
As things finally wind down Janatimo approaches you. I would like to privately discuss your duties as conversants.
He explains that Conversants represent the Magaambya in and around Nantambu, advancing the school’s interests and helping the community. He already has a few tasks in mind for you. You are some of the youngest Conversants we've had… at least, in quite a long time. Do you have any questions about the process or your new role?
"As Conversants, when we are outside the school or class, to whom do we report?" Chimwemwe asks. "And how much autonomy in solving problems do we have?"
I may give you tasks, and others at the academy may do so as well. Report to the people you are helping — not to me. You serve them. I will be giving you full autonomy in your tasks and trust you to complete them when you can, while keeping up with your studies first and foremost.
I already have your first task. But before that, I would like to share a story with you. Surely it cannot compare to Alrinkiri's metaphorical tale, but I hope you will indulge me. I thought of telling it during the ceremony, but I didn't think Koride could sit through a minute more of the pomp and circumstance!
Each year, the four hunters would come together in a contest, to see who could first track down and capture a creature, and each year, the contest would end the same way: as all four were equally skilled, they would always each track down the creature at the exact same time, and the contest would be a draw. So long did this go on that the hunters felt disheartened by the contest. After all, if it ended the same way each time, how would they ever grow?
This year, the hunters gathered and made camp as they often did, and while they were deciding what they’d hunt—Zebra, Antelope, or perhaps even Crocodile—a star fell in the distance. One hunter (it does not matter which) turned to the others and said, “My fellows, I have seen the perfect quarry: that star falling in the distance! The one to capture it first shall be the champion of our contest.” The other hunters agreed, and the four raced for the horizon.
The hunters soon came to a raging river, as wide across as four villages and treacherous in its churning. All four would be able to cross, though it would tax their strength to the very limit. Halfway through the crossing, West was swept back to the river’s bank, for she was overly competitive. She had pushed herself to beat the other hunters, charging ahead through the river, and she had run out of strength halfway. Only three hunters continued on.
They soon came to a cliff, one that stretched so high that its top melded into the clouds. North took one look at the cliff and gave up, for he was overly cautious. Tired from the long swim, he feared tackling such a challenging climb and the unknown dangers ahead with anything less than his full strength. He sat down by the foot of the cliff in defeat. Only two hunters continued.
East and South reached the top of the cliff to see a thick jungle in front of them, deafening in its screaming and howling, and beyond it, a shine of gold against the clouds. East charged ahead into the jungle, for East was overly optimistic. She knew her strength was waning from the swim and the climb, and yet she thought she could keep going just a little bit longer, pushing through this one last challenge. She was wrong. The beasts of the jungle tore at her flesh, and the trees screamed vicious words to wound her heart. Without the strength to defend herself, East fled the jungle, injured in both mind and body.
While East rushed ahead, South rested, for he was wise and knew his limits. Rather than press on or give up altogether, South gathered his strength, knowing that only when he restored himself could he take on another challenge. As East stumbled from the jungle, South charged in, his feet steady, his endurance restored. The beasts’ claws and fangs could not break his shield, and the trees’ insults and invectives could not break his spirit. South fought on, until he crossed to the other side.
Passing a ring of stone statues, South found himself in a beautiful city, the streets paved with gold and its people welcoming. He walked through its golden streets until he found a crowd gathering around the fallen star. “We have no need for this strange stone,” they said. “You are welcome to take it with you, but you must tell no one of what you have seen here.” The townspeople pressed the star into South’s hand and a sweet drink to his lips that would make him forget the way to their city, and South took his leave, the champion of the hunters’ contest.
South left the golden city, and as he crossed its borders, its location faded from his mind, but South had pressed his memories of the city into the star, just as the townspeople had pressed the drink of forgetfulness to his lips. He collected East, North, and West as he made his way back to their camp, breaking off a piece of the star for each to wear as a medal. Even if South’s memories of the city remained within the star’s fragments, the lesson that had helped him get there remained in all the hunters’ hearts for all their days after.
You are embarking upon a new journey. Chase your star… but know your limits and take on the challenges you can.
☀☀☀
Janatimo smiles. Xokan has mentioned needing help. I've let him know I'd send some Conversants his way soon. Please visit him when you have the time.