Light
River Tam had an almost constant light in her eyes.
Inventing tales of Independents, dinosaurs, and cannbalism? Every genius girl's delight. Calculus? Tricky— and fun. And when the music played, nothing could keep River still.
And through it all, River enjoyed it. They didn't know how to teach her properly? No curriculum challenging enough? She'd figure it out herself. When she ran into a challenge, she whispered 'I don't know' in an awed voice, then dance around because here was a challenge! She'd figure it out, and then she'd be happy because it made sense.
Simon Tam had come to the conclusion that nothing could stamp out that light in River's eyes. No matter what happened, River would treat it as a challenge, River would enjoy it, River would figure it out, River would be his genius sister. His beautiful sister.
The Academy had taken that light from her. And River just couldn't see it all the same way. Life had gone from a challenge to dance through to a cage. River Tam had flown through life, and the Academy had pinioned her.
Simon had walked in to check on his sister, the pilot.
"Serene wings," whispered River.
"I know," said Simon, who understood.
"And dinosaurs. Will we have to resort to cannibalism?" It took Simon a moment to remember their old game.
"I don't think so, River."
"Too bad."
She turned and he saw that light back in her eyes.