Timestamp: 38th Day of Spring, 513 A.V.
Alses had worked hard over the last few days, ever since she'd actually agreed to teach Protector Lu Gavima, of the Shinya guard, and now it was almost time for their first lesson together. Splendid.
Although she'd not been back to the Solar Winds for several seasons, everything was – unsurprisingly in such an orderly city – exactly as she'd left it. The few books she'd left behind were carefully squared away on the shelves, the bed was made neatly, her desk was organized with almost pathological efficiency and there was no rubbish or clutter anywhere.
It truly did have the feel of somewhere unused, an entire room in storage, a space put away on a shelf and just waiting for its owner to come back and breathe new life into its walls. Well, here she was – not back permanently, by any means, but nonetheless the apartment had stolen back into the orbit of her life.
In some ways, it was like coming back to an old friend – she remembered fondly each and every bookshelf, the slightly battle-worn and ink-stained desk, the dark chest lurking at the foot of her bed and every other facet of the place besides.
The auras of the place were welcoming, too – she could see her own self reflected from everywhere around, overlaid onto the more static, unchanging impressions of the actual physical materials of her apartment – skyglass and wood, mostly. Honeyed wine and roses hung faintly, still, in the air – she vaguely remembered celebrating her acceptance to the Dusk Tower here one fine summer's afternoon – come to think of it, everything she could glean, impressions-wise, at least, was faded, like a letter left out in the sun too long.
The mantling layers of dust on everything didn't help a great deal, either, she realised, sneezing convulsively and mopping her streaming eyes as her footsteps stirred up the layer which had lain thickly on the skyglass floor, dulling its gentle shine. Something would have to be done about that, she realised with a self-mocking sigh – she'd been the one to suggest her apartment, after all, even though she knew petching well she'd not been back there in seasons.
Still, it was a familiar place and fortunately the position of the cleaning cupboard hadn't changed. Alses helped herself to a small selection of cleaning supplies, returning to her apartment with a grim determination that belied her own mild hatred of cleaning in general. Here, however, there was a purpose to getting the place sparkling; billows of drifting dust, although pretty when sunbeams caught the mote-shot air, also irritated the nose and eyes and therefore made it difficult to concentrate – and with magic, even world magic, that couldn't be allowed.
Besides, Alses intended to live up to the implicit expectations of being an Ethaefal. Sacred creatures didn't live in squalor – and never mind that this wasn't precisely her home any more. For that reason, therefore, she swept and dusted, damped rags and ran them along shelves and tables, shook cascades of tumbling gray from her bed linens and then remade it with exacting – although absentminded – precision, having remade it many, many times from the thrashing convulsions her tumbled dreams often brought.
She reorganized the furniture a little, too, pushing the desk and its accompanying chair across the skyglass floor in a series of protesting, woody shrieks, bulling through with brute strength until the table lay exactly adjacent to her bed, the perfect position for her to sit on the covers, her back to the window and the light flooding in, and watch her pupil's work in comfort.
Alses looked around the room now, hands on hips and breathing deeply, the pleasant smell of attar of roses – her favoured scent – having completely replaced the dead, slightly musty aroma of unopened, unlived-in rooms. She took stock – plentiful light, check, from the skyglass itself, the small fire burning to keep the room pleasantly warm and taking the edge off the lingering winter chill, check, paper, quill, ink, scrolls, her own notebook, a few slates and some charcoal she'd borrowed...yes, everything seemed to be in order.
Now all there was to do was wait. Perhaps best to do that on one of the benches, just outside the Solar Winds itself, where she could sun herself and go over her notes. That way, there'd be no chance of missing Protector Gavima when (if?) he showed up.
A
The day was a fairly pleasant one, Alses had to admit, the weak – although strengthening – spring sunshine mantling her head and shoulders as she reclined comfortably on one of the many civilised comforts that Lhavit afforded her lucky citizens – warm, dry benches, scattered in abundance about her leafy avenues and courtyards, perfect for the weary pedestrian or, as in this case, a teacher waiting for her student.
Alses used the time productively, or rather, attempted to, going over what she'd planned to say to him again and again in her mind, compulsively checking her own notes just in case. Nerves were tickling at her stomach – she'd never taught before, after all, and was terrified of getting something wrong. The fact that it was Glyphing she was teaching, a world magic and therefore rather safer than any branch involving personal djed, was small comfort.
'So if we talk a little about the applications and characteristics of Glyphing first, and then move on to describe the abstract-definite paradigm and how it applies to the discipline-' Alses shook her head – surely that was getting too complex, too fast. 'Maybe we should consider discussing the material side of things first – but then maybe that's self-evident? Anything that makes a mark on a surface can be used for Glyphing, after all – even soap, if it's thick enough.'
So not that, then.
'But if not that, then what?' Flipping absently through her notebook, she reached the beginning, and began to run back through it, occasionally looking up as people passed in front of her bench, looking out for the lithe and muscular figure of Lu Gavima making his way down the street.
And worrying.
