Difference between revisions of "Logs:Walk, Madilla, Walk"

Madilla hurried down the corridor, still clutching her notes from the day's classes, aware that she was going to be late for dinner unless she was really lucky. Her last class had been at the Harper Hall, and it had run long.

Exams had come and gone, and it seemed, now, that most of the hall was more interested in turnover - still two sevens away! - than their studies, though classes had not been dismissed. Classes might be more casual, concentrating more on refresher and exam review than new material, but timeliness was still adhered to.

As she ran, grateful for the speed her long legs allowed her, Madilla considered with pleasure the fact that, now, she had officially been here for one turn's worth of classes. Her writing was better, too, almost completely unrecognisable from her efforts of a turn ago, though she kept up with her Harper studies, determined to get better still. There was no point not making the most of the opportunity she'd been given, after all.

She turned the corner, relieved to see that there were apprentices still filing in, and rushed to join the end of the queue as it snaked into the dining hall. She still didn't have that many close friends among the other apprentices, but she was greeted with smiles, and welcomed to the Junior Apprentice table - "Made it! Just."

Madilla returned the grin, noting, in a lowered voice, "They were having an argument about poetry. I couldn't get away!" Laughter, then: these apprentices were too practical to appreciate the merits of that. She put her notes under her chair, settling in just in time: dinner was beginning.

But there were announcements, first, as per usual - and promotions, which was not on everyday occurrence, but still not infrequent. Madilla listened without paying too much attention as a single Journeyman joined the Masters table, and three Senior Apprentices stepped up to join the Journeyman. She had a little more interest for the six Apprentices who became Senior Apprentices: she knew a couple of them, at least in passing, and was pleased for them.

Then, the Junior Apprentices. There was a buzz at the table: end of semester meant a more than normal amount of promotions, meant that maybe even most of them might take the step up. She watched as one apprentice after another was tapped upon the shoulder, and walked up towards the Apprentice table. She was so intent upon them that, when there came a tap upon her own shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her chair, swinging around in horror and surprise.

She knew the Apprentice standing behind her. Deean, a pretty girl of sixteen or so, who was now grinning at her so broadly it seemed half likely her face would split in half. "Walk, Madilla, walk," she said, clearly - and, as had been done for all the others, the call was picked up by the others at the Apprentice table - most especially those who had been sitting near her just moments before.

Madilla could barely believe her ears and eyes. Not... She'd not... But as Deean beckoned her, she rose from her seat, cheeks burning with embarrassment as she followed the older girl to her new table, where she squeezed in on the end, broad grins all round. Three others joined them, making a total of ten; Madilla cast a glance back at those left at the table, embarrassed for herself, disappointed for them. But she had a new knot in her hand, and - she couldn't help it. She'd earned this.

After the meal, Madilla hurried back to the Junior Apprentice table to rescue her notes, which were still sitting beneath her abandoned chair. Most people had dispersed already, but there had been congratulations to receive, and people to talk to, so it had taken her longer to get away.

"Madilla! Congratulations."

The voice behind her was a familiar one - Journeywoman Delifa, who wore a beaming grin when Madilla turned, drawing herself back to her feet, notes now in hand. "Thank you," she said, suddenly shy at all the attention.

"Don't be shy - you earned it, silly," Delifa said, laughing. "Anyone can see how hard you've been working. You got nearly full marks on your pharmacy exam, did you know?"

Madilla hesitated - "I did? I thought I'd gotten half of the things wrong, I mean--"

"You did. So you'll be in the advanced classes, next turn. It's clearly your strength. Which isn't to say that you didn't pass the rest of your exams, but... one has to play to one's strengths, right? I think you've made the right decision, focusing on this. It's what you're good at, after all."

Fighting a stab of disappointment, Madilla swallowed, and nodded. "Right," she agreed, attempting to make her voice sound more sure, more confident, than she really felt. It was one thing to know that something was important, and that she was good at it, but... She still wanted pediatrics. Still. Always.

"And it looks like I'll be taking that class, next turn, so you'll have me again. You'll catch up to everyone else in no time at all, I'm sure. Anyway - I should go. But: congratulations again."

"Thanks," repeated Madilla, smiling. Evidently Delifa wasn't paying too much attention to her responses, because she was sure there was no way she was being convincing about it.

It wasn't fair, she told herself, as she returned to the dorms. She'd been so excited, so happy. And all of that gone, just because she was good at something. Delifa was right, probably. Everyone knew she wasn't assertive enough to be a good hands-on healer, and pharmacy really was her strength. But she could learn. She would learn. And maybe, then, people would change their mind.

It never really occurred to her that she didn't have to do what people said. When had it ever?