Chapter Two – Part 4 – The Road to Jinda
Mireya’s hands shook, the orb cupped in her palms as she settled herself back onto the sofa, bringing her legs into a serpentine coil. Forgetting the sway of the ship, the sickness in her stomach, just watching the yellow veins wind over the globe.
“You didn’t know, before you paid for me…You couldn’t have known that this would happen. When I was eight I was exposed to a tap room, to serving food and cleaning tables…” Talking to him, but looking at the orb.
“I didn’t know. I had a feeling, however. I had no reason to know, until we visited the Duke’s Court. Do you recall when I made the room still? When weaving, projecting one’s power, those with talent feel like mud, compared to the rest being water. You, Mireya Maran, feel like granite.” He sighed, patting her shoulder softly. “So I purchased the debt from Auss, and now you go to Lockwood Academy at Jinda island with your friend Rhayd, to learn how to use that talent.”
“He’s not my friend.” The retort snapped before she has thought about it, a bitterness in her tone. Shying away from his touch as it hurts, backing herself further into the corner of the sofa. “How much is my debt, Master Thryche?”
“Does it matter? Auss has what he wants. You have your eventual freedom. The course of study at Jinda is three years. After which you will have a profession, a stipend as mighty as mine most likely, and the knowledge with which to decide what, exactly, you want out of your life.”
He tilted his head to the side, reaching out to tap the Ioun Stone once.
“I’ll accept one of these in return, when you are through with your studies.”
“I want to know what I was worth to my Grandfather.” Mireya was happy that Thryche’s expression showed he saw no vanity in the words, just sad acceptance. “You didn’t have to pay him anything, I was going to come with you anyway, from the moment I was invited. You wasted your money, Master Thryche and garnered an enemy of him, he kept muttering about it. About Jinda…He was livid.”
“He wouldn’t have been so livid if I had simply informed him you were coming with me. I asked him what he thought you were worth – it was far too low. That man has needed a lesson taught to him for years. But he is not an enemy worth note, a small fish in a small pond. He didn’t value you nearly enough.”
Mireya studied the shimmering stone for a moment more, resigning herself to ignorance as she had so often before.
“What will it be like, Jinda? Studying…I have never studied. What if I am behind everyone else.” Fixing him with a calm stare, Mireya pursed her lips. “I thought, at first, that you had paid like everyone else, then I thought perhaps you had need of more staff at the school. Only now, Balthas’ blazing pit, now I’m truly scared.”
“I was illiterate until I was five years your senior,” Edvard said with a small chuckle. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it. I’ve seen to it that you and Rhayd are placed under their finest instructor, an old student of my own actually. I suppose Kintere will be as well, though he was bound for Attensah. Too late for that.”
“Rhayd won’t care for that….My having the same tutor.”
A sweeping statement, letting her eyes drift back to the globe, tracing the golden lines. She felt the discussion was over, the rocking of the boat was returning under her seat. Needed something to focus on. Attensah. The sailors in Penance had spoken of the place as if it were cursed, talking about the war-magi from that school and their dreadful staves. Mireya shuddered to think of Kintere learning to be such a violent instrument.
“Kintere’s not going to leave us, is he? He’s my only friend.”
“No, Kintere and I had a long talk about this before he succumbed to the pain of his wounds. He goes to Jinda. I had decided on Attensah for him because of his… Unique talents. But he would learn nothing there, I see now. There is potential in him, vast potential. But it is locked behind so many layers of self-loathing – no. He needs what his new instructor can give him. Just as you and Rhayd do, as well.”
“Potential is nothing. It’s the way it’s shaped. How many more have talent but are never seen and waste a life. The keys to potential are different for all of us, I’ve seen many things, learnt many things…But what if we never find the right keys? ”
“I cannot say,” the mage sighed. “There are only eighteen Curia left, after the last war, and confidence in our work has become so… Lacking, lately, that I am certain the process may be retired all together. With the Academies as they are, there is little need to dispatch tutors about the kingdom to ensure the gathering of talents. Arbiters find, test, and relay those with talent to the academies. The art that Curia possess is dwindling.”
“Why?” Simply a question, but truly interested in his answer.