20 Spring 512 She arrived a little early to class. It wasn’t that Fiera cared if she was late; she had found that most lessons begun in earnest only after the professor gave his ‘prep talk’ (which was both boring and useless) introducing what they would be doing. Instead, she had been so prompt in her arrival due to her inability to deal with the noise inside the dormitories. The spring storm brought along with it a spell of wet weather from which students could only hide. So, Fiera sat alone in the classroom, at the front. A book of notes lay open in front of her, displaying the essay she had written for homework, titled ‘My Personal Interpretation of Sentient Auras’ in a flowing script. She was confident that Professor Stonemiller would be satisfied with her efforts. She had spent almost three nights reading the notes of famous post-Valterrian Aurists so that she could present more than one perspective on the topic, despite it not being in the requirements. Fiera tapped her dry quill on the table as she reread her essay. *** Each Aurist perceives auras in a different way. Some recognise colours first; others manage to glean feelings or impressions. Smells and sounds are less common but still possible to interpret. Usually, the more advanced the Aurist is, the more senses can be invoked in deciphering the aura in question. I have only managed to unlock one sense; sight. In my earlier attempts of sentient Auristics, I could only see in tones; black and white distributed around the body. Quite recently, after much practice, I found myself also observing colours; very faint, and easy to miss. Now I no longer see pure white – it has dissolved into a multitude of different colours but black remains as impenetrable as ever. *** She paused here, dipping the quill into her ink pot, scratching out the word ‘impenetrable’ and replacing it with ‘solid’. It seemed more fitting to her. In the hallway outside, approaching footsteps echoed. |