Logs:Questionable Curriculum
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| RL Date: 21 January, 2014 |
| Who: Bristia, Edyis |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Bristia gets a student, but it's not exactly Harper lessons she's giving. |
| Where: Harper Classroom, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 11, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: The weather today is very pleasant. A few clouds chase each other across the mostly clear skies, and a soft breeze picks up in the afternoon to make for a fine day. |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions, Aughan/Mentions, Tevrane/Mentions |
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| Harper Classroom, High Reaches Weyr A thick door provides some soundproofing against the escape of sour notes and the chanting of Harper Ballads that are common in this room. Chalkdust from the blackboard lingers in the air, motes of the stuff catching the light from many glows clustered in a hanging basket in the middle of the ceiling as well as tucked into sconces around the walls. Just inside the door, cubicles line one wall, each labeled with a child's name and containing various bits of lesson equipment: slates, chalk, scrap hide and paper, pens, ink and pots of glue. Long benches span the room, providing seating for at least fifty children between the ages of seven and fourteen; a tall wood screen stands folded near the middle of one wall, ready to divide the room into groups of older and younger students for more age-targeted study. Storage shelves along the back wall hold musical instruments for learning, mostly small hand drums and single bore pipes plus two rather battered xylophones. Contents: It's two days after Edyis indicates she wants to meet with Bristia. Two days, and no response: enough to dishearten the enthusiastic. Mere minutes ago, however, one of the weyrbrats races into the records room and drops a note in front of Edyis, taking off without a backward glance. It reads simply: Classroom. Now. B. It's late, but then all of Savannah riders seem to keep those late hours despite more than enough time to adjust to the time difference; perhaps it's pure habit due to the climate. Bristia's scribbling something up on the board, a series of numbers, drawing back to examine them critically. It doesn't take Edyis much time to get from one place to the other these days, but cryptic notes are something entirely new. It doesn't take her long at a full run to reach her destination, satchel over shoulder, she doesn't exactly slide into the classroom, but she does look like she's just run from one end of the bowl to the other in a short time. "You sent for me?" "I did." Bristia tugs a hand through her hair, across her blonde ponytail, and glances over her shoulder at Edyis a moment with a purse of lips, taking in her state with a flickered gaze. "Turn around," she says, simply. Height was not something Edyis was blessed with, however she does draw her shoulders back, standing straight and turns as gracefully as she can manage. "Like this?" She catches a glimpse of the Savannah knot, and the realization seems to put a little extra steel in her spine. "I hope I am not late, I came as soon as I got the message." Bristia waits until Edyis has turned around. Once she's facing the door, the greenrider says: "So, R'hin mentioned you were... interested... in harpering. Tell me why?" There's amusement in her voice, and the faint sound of footsteps can be heard somewhere behind. "Harpers are responsible for the dissemination of knowledge through the generations. The collection of that knowledge and it's preservation are of particular interest, as well as the ways in which such information might be of particular use." Her sweet soprano carries all the inflection of someone reciting a verse from memory. "May I ask why I am facing the door?" If there's a roll of the eyes, it's certainly not audible in Bristia's voice: she's far too well trained for that. "You may ask," the harper rider allows, even if she doesn't follow it up with an actual answer. A brief creak of wood that suggests she's seated herself on the desk. "What do you make of the situation at Nabol? How it came about? Rone, Ienavi, Tevrane?" "Do you want the official version or the truth?" She asks. "Truthfully speaking, Lady Ienavi was a pawn who thought herself to hold more power than she had in truth. Many of the other players looking at the board were lead to believe such almost conclusively. Her marriage to Lord Crom was the turning point to secure the Hold for her son, and the seed needed to keep the Nabolese from starving and further gain her the esteem of her people. Lord Aughan saw an opportunity, and secured her hand while presumably simultaneously cutting down any chance she had her son's appointment and her status as Lady Warder. Someone campaigned very hard for Lady Tevrane, but who I do not know, and until more is known I cannot give any definitive opinion, from my knowledge of High Reaches Weyr, she has always dealt fairly." She pauses, "But that is an inconclusive summation, as there are facts missing." "I want your truth," Bristia corrects, as if this is somehow important, and warrants a pause to allow Edyis to correct herself, if required. "My truth." That elicits a pause, "I have no complete truth, only the conclusions I can draw from the facts. Lord Nabol's death could have been entirely natural, but the timing and the manner in which Lady Ienavi fled made her circumspect. Rone did more harm to his people than good, the fact that he was dead before the raid started probably isn't a coincidence. At the time of the Conclave in Keroon, appeared to be one of the most promising candidates, after though it became apparent that the Lord Holders would not accept her nomination. Again, someone in that room wanted her to fail, possibly Lord Aughan himself, though what he gains other than a bride I can't see. The only truth I am certain of is that there may be something larger at work, and that I can't see all the facts. That alone is quite frustrating. I believe several people made good use of circumstances to accomplish their ends." That answer seems to satisfy Bristia, or at least there's no further questions on that score. Instead, she says, "When you came into the room, there was a series of numbers on the board. Recite them to me." Edyis sighs, closing her eyes as though looking at the page of a book. It is a few moments before she answers, "24, 68, 19, and 12. Were in view on either side of you, though you may "What color hair tie I have in?" Bristia continues, without any indication of her correctness. Edyis says, "I would have to assume leather, since you don't seem to be the sort for frills and lace, and therefore ribbons are out of the question. I noted a ponytail, but not the color."" "You can turn around," Bristia finally says. The numbers, behind her, are different. Or at least, Edyis might've been sure about the first three, except the board shows 25, 66 and 18. The harper's grinning, gesturing to a seat, though unspecific about where. "Harper life will ruin you," she declares, with a lift of hand as if to stay comment until she continues, "There always comes a time when you start to question your own truth, your own version of things. Did you get those numbers right? Did I change them when you weren't looking? If someone else asked us both and we gave different numbers, who would they believe? In the end, as a Harper, none of that matters. The truth is what we choose to make it. The question is whether you can live with that truth, even knowing it is not your truth." She tilts her head, now, as if to elicit a response. Edyis squints at those numbers, she really squints at them. Her memory only rarely fails her, and this particular instance is completely unnerving as she moves forward plopping into the first seat pulling out that journal and making her first note of the lesson. (It may or may not say don't trust Bristia.) She really gives her a good look over this time, "So you are going to teach me how to be convincing in creating a truth." Even if that numbers trick will have the girl questioning herself for days, there's something of a resultant grin on her lips. Oh yes, these will be excellent lessons indeed. "That depends," Bristia says, with a sudden grin. "R'hin doesn't think you should be a Harper. He thinks you'd be wasted there. But I won't teach you to be a Harper." Another pause, another invitation for her to comment on that declaration. Edyis curves a dark brow studying the blonde, "Flattery, and enticing my curious nature. I am so very curious as to what you have planned with these lessons, since you came so well recommended as an instructor. If not a harper than what?" Bristia waves her hand airily, as if an exact description is superfluous. "Someone who can think and deduce and observe. Someone who can see truth. Someone who can take that truth, and paint a masterpiece of falsehood from a woven fabric of lies and truth. There's plenty of work for someone like that. Would you," the greenrider leans forward with an expectant smile, "Like your first assignment?" Except it's a question about more than just one assignment, it's a question of commitment. There is a caution to her expression, "So long as such a thing doesn't turn me into another botched attempt at diplomacy between Monaco and 'Reaches, I am all ears." A shrug from Bristia, as if to say, that's up to you. Aloud, she says, "It's a simple one: think of something you've told a friend of yours. A truth you've shared. I want you to convince them that you lied to them the first time, and replace that truth with a lie. Make them believe it." Edyis contemplates this, "Is it enough to prove that the truth is the lie, or must I convicince them that I lied to begin with." She responds, mulling over the truths and lies she has told. "The latter is the valuable skill you will need to practice," Bristia says, with a nod as she regards the girl. Standing, she dusts her hands. "We'll talk again, when you're done." Edyis says, "By what should I measure my progress?" "If you can't read your friends to determine whether you've succeeded," Bristia says, with a tip of her head, "Then you have no hope of reading a stranger. But," with a pause, "If you wish to test the strength of your weave, you can bring it up in a subsequent conversation." Edyis mulls over the facts thoughtfully. "An interesting challenge." Especially since most truths given, were given for specific purposes. "Very well, I will speak with you again when I've completed the assignment." With a tap to her lips, Bristia grins, eyes bright at the girl's confidence. Wordlessly, she sweeps from the room, although Edyis will notice, as she does, that the hair tie she wears is pink, though it's sitting on top of a leather one. |
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