NOVEL NEXT Book 2: Chapter 14 - School Lunch [Part 1]
Book 2: Chapter 14 - School Lunch [Part 1]
At a certain point in their existential experience, the oppressed feel an irresistible attraction toward the oppressor and his way of life. Sharing this way of life becomes an overpowering aspiration.
- Paulo Freire.
Seraphina could practically feel the curious stares pressing down on her from the classroom windows overlooking the main courtyard. She lifted her chin, brushing back a lock of her golden-blonde hair in a vain attempt at composure. It was mortifying enough to have everyone's eyes on her, but the source of the spectacle was even more exasperating.
Standing at the Academy's main gate was Ibn: a small, now leaner boy with dark, tangled hair and piercing red eyes. He wore ill-fitting armor that looked like it had been cobbled together from large chitin shells and various other animal hides and parts, all scuffed and battered by a week of hard travel. The smell of sweat, damp leather, and exhaustion clung to him, and there was a wild glint in his eyes—part haunted, part victorious. He had clearly fought tooth and nail to reach the Academy.
Seraphina shot him a stern look, her tone sharp as she tried to project an air of noble authority. "Ibn, you are late," she chastised, her voice clipped., "And just look at you! Whatever are you wearing? Heavens, this is so embarrassing. You really do need a bath," she added disapprovingly, shaking her head.
The boy's face fell at once. Whatever effusive praise he had been hoping for, replayed a thousand times in his imagination as he struggled with wild beasts, vanished with her words.
"Now," she said, softening her voice only a fraction, "did you bring what I asked for?"
Ibn nodded once, as if afraid even that motion might draw more scorn.
"Good," Seraphina continued. "Now, hurry along to the servant's entrance and have them see to you. You really do look positively terrible. What did I tell you about the fact that you represent the de Sariens? Some lessons just don't stick with you, do they?"
Again, the boy nodded, staring at the ground as though it might swallow him. "Yes, Lady Seraphina," he managed under his breath.
She released a measured sigh and forced a small smile. "You truly have the gift for bad timing. I am quite busy at the moment. That being said… well done, finally bringing everything, late though you are." Then, in a gesture that was equal parts condescension and reluctant affection, she reached out and gently patted his head.
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For Ibn, that gesture was enough. He might have hoped for more, but if a small spark of warmth was all she offered, he would clutch it tight. Even if the stares from the windows and the burning heat of his own embarrassment still lingered, he had returned victorious.
And, in spite of the harrowing week spent in the woods, he realized that he had grown stronger. He had, in a way, bonded with the blade at his side. When life had been in the balance, the gifted blade had become both tool and protector. Was this what Lady Seraphina was trying to teach him? Had he misjudged the young noblewoman all along? he thought to himself, his young mind trying to puzzle out his lady's intent as he slowly went to do as he was told.
***
Finally, after a bit of rushing about and asking some of the serving staff at the Academy, she was able to join up with the rest of her group. She even saw the brothers, Krayton and Giles, pottering about the grounds, trimming hedges with very mean-looking shears. They nodded to her as she passed by them.
Seraphina brushed an unruly strand of hair from her face and let out a small sigh. "It's impossible to find competent help these days," she lamented. Her Page, she explained, had somehow gotten lost in the woods while running errands.
Standing beside her were Rashana and Michelié, who nodded in understanding at Seraphina's predicament. Rashana and Michelié both knew it would be boorish to question Seraphina too deeply about her servant's failings, for such things were common annoyances among those of higher status.
The group continued their orientation of the Academy grounds under the guidance of Rashana, who walked ahead with graceful confidence. First, she showed them the rose gardens, a popular spot for students to sit with borrowed library books whenever the weather permitted. Next, they visited the Dullstone-lined magic training rooms beneath the Mage's Tower, where more advanced students practiced offensive spells and honed their arcane skills.
From there, the half Al-Lazarian girl led them to the Academy's laboratories, where aspiring Alchemists pored over recipes and eagerly attempted to perfect their concoctions. Across from them, Seraphina noticed Eloise with her own tour group, listening intently as an older student explained the workings of an alembic. Eloise caught Seraphina's eye and waved cheerily. Seraphina offered a small wave back but made a deliberate show of ignoring Crown Prince Velens, who stood nearby.
They continued to the chapel, the Academy's original building. Dedicated to the Goddess, it was small, made from simple grey rough-cut stone, and reflected the now venerable institution's once humble roots. Next, the group visited the stables and menagerie, where students learned about creatures from distant lands and even had the chance to ride exotic mounts. A distinct animal smell hung in the air, but Seraphina barely noticed.
Thanks to her magical necklace, she could hear the beasts within grumbling about their caretakers. She mused that if Cornelia—her serpent companion—were to grow any bigger, she might have to be housed here someday. Sensing Seraphina's thoughts, Cornelia remained still and silent, not wishing to draw attention to herself.
Adjacent to the stables stood the glasshouses, maintained at a sweltering tropical heat so that all sorts of vibrant flora could flourish. Seraphina glanced longingly at the strange fruits growing within, her stomach growling faintly, but she refrained from stepping inside.