Spring 2nd, 519av, 19 Bells
Gemma pumped her legs as she dashed down the stairs. She was going to be late! She had planned to get to class early, but she had slept in and now she wasn’t going to make it. Her breath came in ragged pulls as she tried to will her heart and lungs to keep up with her body’s needs.
Finally she got to to the academy just as the bell marked the start of class. But she was still several meters away from the classroom. There was almost nobody in sight, so she kept running to try and get to class sooner. She checked her schedule and compared it with the various numbers next to the doors. Finally she found the right door, and she could already hear Izo’s voice inside. She had had him for herbalism basics a few years back. She stuttered to a stop, tried to steady her breathing, smoothed her skirts, and knocked.
“Come in.” Izo’s voice came.
Gemma pushed on the door and it swung open.
“Hey, Mr. Raphey.” She said, bashfully. “Sorry I’m late.” She said.
“That’s all right! You’re all allowed one tardiness per season, and you just used yours. Such an overachiever.” He mocked playfully. “Well, take a seat with group two.” He pointed over to the far end of the small room, where two students sat at a table that looked like it was intended to double as work stations. She hadn’t had those when she’d had class before. She could see marked jars as she walked across the room, keeping her head down to avoid eye contact.
She took her seat and grabbed her notebook, setting it on the table and preparing for the class. She made it a point never to be late again. She felt like every eye was on her, and she was afraid to look for fear that it might be true.
“All right, well as I was saying, this is the Tier Three Herbalism Elective. You’re all here because you have already gone above and beyond what most of your peers have been able to accomplish academically. This season will be highly practical, and your final grade will be determined based on a series of projects both in and out of class. You are not required to attend all the classes. You are not graded based on attendance. However, unless you have some other way of learning the information we’ll be covering, you will likely want to be here for as many classes as possible to ensure a high mark. For our new student,” He said, turning to one of the students in Gemma’s group. “Your grade doesn’t effect whether or not you’re allowed to take other classes, but it will be cited if you want to get a recommendation from the academy.” He said.
“Today we’re starting with advanced infusion blends.” He said. “By now you should all know how to make an infusion. If not, I hope you catch on quick.” He said, moving on. As he talked, Gemma’s eyes were drawn from his feet up to his face and eyes. He had an aloof, playful quality about him that softened the harsh truth of what he was saying. He didn’t seem to care if someone passed or failed. What they did was their choice. He wasn’t there to hold their hand. But it wasn’t apathy that she saw. It was almost like an eccentric passion, but muted. It was hard to pin him down, but his voice and body language were magnetic. Had he been like this when she had last taken his class?
“All right, everybody up. You’ll be standing for the lab portions.” He said. Everyone stood, scraping their chairs against the floor.
“First, I want you to make a Comfrey Infused Oil.” He said. “You’ll find Comfrey at your tables.”
They looked, and sure enough, there were enough jars of Comfrey for each of them.
“Today you’ll be working alone, but be prepared for collaborations. You are welcome to talk and help your group if you want, but if you miss something I say because you’re talking, or if you don’t finish on time or do something wrong, I will accept no excuses.” He said.
The group got to work making their infusions. Gemma glanced around her table to the other two students present. She didn’t know their names yet, and she wasn’t sure she should worry about that for now. Of course everyone knew how to make an infusion. They wouldn’t be in a class like this if they didn’t. Sure enough, everyone seemed to be doing just fine. The foreign student had a little bit of a different style, but Gemma was sure that the end product would be the same.
She put the Comfrey flowers into her mortar and just bruised the flowers before putting them in her prep jar and prepared her vegetable oil. She poured in the oil until it covered the herbs and then pushed the herbs down a bit until they were under the oil. She then sealed the jar and shook it a bit.
“Now, while you’re preparing this, who can tell me another name for Comfrey?” He asked the class.
A hand went up in team one. A pale, chubby lad in a blue coat.
“Yes, master Masters.” He cracked a smile at the joke. Master Masters did not.
“Comfrey is also called knit-bone because when applied to the unbroken skin around a fracture, it can help to speed recovery of the fracture.” He recited.
“Very good, master Masters.” He said, turning to the rest of the class.
Gemma raised her eyebrows. She hadn't known that. She wrote some quick notes about the application of Comfrey.
The class had all finished the preparations for their infused oils, and Izo brought out a box of infused oils to swap out with the students.
"Make sure your name is on your jar and give it to me, please. Then take one of these already infused oils for yourself." He said.
Gemma marked her jar and gave it to Izo, taking a new jar from him. He seemed so close when he offered her the jar. She could smell some kind of cologne, but it was light, almost hidden under the scent of herbs.
"Thank you." She said. She could feel her throat drying. This would be a long class. And she was ok with that.
Finally she got to to the academy just as the bell marked the start of class. But she was still several meters away from the classroom. There was almost nobody in sight, so she kept running to try and get to class sooner. She checked her schedule and compared it with the various numbers next to the doors. Finally she found the right door, and she could already hear Izo’s voice inside. She had had him for herbalism basics a few years back. She stuttered to a stop, tried to steady her breathing, smoothed her skirts, and knocked.
“Come in.” Izo’s voice came.
Gemma pushed on the door and it swung open.
“Hey, Mr. Raphey.” She said, bashfully. “Sorry I’m late.” She said.
“That’s all right! You’re all allowed one tardiness per season, and you just used yours. Such an overachiever.” He mocked playfully. “Well, take a seat with group two.” He pointed over to the far end of the small room, where two students sat at a table that looked like it was intended to double as work stations. She hadn’t had those when she’d had class before. She could see marked jars as she walked across the room, keeping her head down to avoid eye contact.
She took her seat and grabbed her notebook, setting it on the table and preparing for the class. She made it a point never to be late again. She felt like every eye was on her, and she was afraid to look for fear that it might be true.
“All right, well as I was saying, this is the Tier Three Herbalism Elective. You’re all here because you have already gone above and beyond what most of your peers have been able to accomplish academically. This season will be highly practical, and your final grade will be determined based on a series of projects both in and out of class. You are not required to attend all the classes. You are not graded based on attendance. However, unless you have some other way of learning the information we’ll be covering, you will likely want to be here for as many classes as possible to ensure a high mark. For our new student,” He said, turning to one of the students in Gemma’s group. “Your grade doesn’t effect whether or not you’re allowed to take other classes, but it will be cited if you want to get a recommendation from the academy.” He said.
“Today we’re starting with advanced infusion blends.” He said. “By now you should all know how to make an infusion. If not, I hope you catch on quick.” He said, moving on. As he talked, Gemma’s eyes were drawn from his feet up to his face and eyes. He had an aloof, playful quality about him that softened the harsh truth of what he was saying. He didn’t seem to care if someone passed or failed. What they did was their choice. He wasn’t there to hold their hand. But it wasn’t apathy that she saw. It was almost like an eccentric passion, but muted. It was hard to pin him down, but his voice and body language were magnetic. Had he been like this when she had last taken his class?
“All right, everybody up. You’ll be standing for the lab portions.” He said. Everyone stood, scraping their chairs against the floor.
“First, I want you to make a Comfrey Infused Oil.” He said. “You’ll find Comfrey at your tables.”
They looked, and sure enough, there were enough jars of Comfrey for each of them.
“Today you’ll be working alone, but be prepared for collaborations. You are welcome to talk and help your group if you want, but if you miss something I say because you’re talking, or if you don’t finish on time or do something wrong, I will accept no excuses.” He said.
The group got to work making their infusions. Gemma glanced around her table to the other two students present. She didn’t know their names yet, and she wasn’t sure she should worry about that for now. Of course everyone knew how to make an infusion. They wouldn’t be in a class like this if they didn’t. Sure enough, everyone seemed to be doing just fine. The foreign student had a little bit of a different style, but Gemma was sure that the end product would be the same.
She put the Comfrey flowers into her mortar and just bruised the flowers before putting them in her prep jar and prepared her vegetable oil. She poured in the oil until it covered the herbs and then pushed the herbs down a bit until they were under the oil. She then sealed the jar and shook it a bit.
“Now, while you’re preparing this, who can tell me another name for Comfrey?” He asked the class.
A hand went up in team one. A pale, chubby lad in a blue coat.
“Yes, master Masters.” He cracked a smile at the joke. Master Masters did not.
“Comfrey is also called knit-bone because when applied to the unbroken skin around a fracture, it can help to speed recovery of the fracture.” He recited.
“Very good, master Masters.” He said, turning to the rest of the class.
Gemma raised her eyebrows. She hadn't known that. She wrote some quick notes about the application of Comfrey.
The class had all finished the preparations for their infused oils, and Izo brought out a box of infused oils to swap out with the students.
"Make sure your name is on your jar and give it to me, please. Then take one of these already infused oils for yourself." He said.
Gemma marked her jar and gave it to Izo, taking a new jar from him. He seemed so close when he offered her the jar. She could smell some kind of cologne, but it was light, almost hidden under the scent of herbs.
"Thank you." She said. She could feel her throat drying. This would be a long class. And she was ok with that.