Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to whomever really owns it. Though I am too lazy to point out who those people are, they know who they are.
Chapter 2
Lost in the Beginning
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If you would all gather around me now… yes, that's it, you all just stand there. Now turn around and tell me what you see. Look beyond the sun-kissed rooftops and out into the land surrounding us…
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, the grand landscape you see before us is indeed all Sword Coast University. Literally as far as the eye can see… this is, if you're looking in the right direction, completely obstructed by the immensity of the Wood of Sharp Teeth. Now, don't let the name fool you, there is absolutely nothing sinister lurking within that forest and you are completely safe to explore it at will… as long as you're accompanied by certified instructors and remain within the designated boundaries.
SCU is famed for not only its modern and immaculate architecture but also for never forgetting the spiritual connection we all have with nature. Besides the well-kept gardens and flourishing trees generously sprinkled around campus, the natural world outside its halls is just as important to student life, if not venerated. The school is strict in its policy of keeping the surrounding environment as natural as the day it was settled around.
In fact to this day, other than university grounds, not a square inch of wild land has been cleared away, making Sword Coast University a truly unique model for the working relationship between civilization and the natural world. The local forests boast innumerable species of plant and animal life that work together to create a delicate ecosystem that we have only just begun to understand.
In case you're wondering where we get the necessary supplies and materials needed to support the school… well, let's just say a majority of your student fees are filling the pockets of many ship and caravan captains… which in turn will fill the coffers of many pubs and drinking halls.
Classes that deal with nature are usually held within the Wood of Sharp Teeth and Snakewood Forest as well as in the grasslands and local mountains, so as to better accustom our students with what they're learning. Remember, here at SCU, we believe in hands-on experience for the student to truly grasp the fundamental skills needed in life. Druidic and ranger courses are regularly conducted in those woods, from beginner's tracking to ritualistic shamanism.
But it isn't just the Forestry students who get to enjoy the great outdoors. Other courses often make use of the opportunity to hold their classes there. In carefully prepared areas, combat classes will conduct mock battles as potions students will gather their own ingredients. The quiet stillness is a favoured reason why many students hold prayer sessions out here and the thick foliage makes it an ideal place for practicing how to stay hidden.
Because of our insistence of disturbing the natural order as little as possible, we are the only university that can allow our students to truly observe things as they normally happen. Everything from migrating herds and flocks to the effects of seasonal changes have been integrated into the curriculum…
This is why I must stress that all bonfire parties are no longer allowed to be held within five leagues of the woods… the local druids have still not forgotten the rather heated incident with a small, although fatal, forest fire over three hundred years ago. As a tip, I wouldn't recommend bringing out a lit torch at night, instead just bring along any friend who has infravision. Believe me, you'll avoid a lot of lecturing, paperwork, hassle… and a vicious beating with sticks… lots and lots of sticks…
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"Imoen, slow down! You're charging forward like a rampaging, snorting orc!"
"Snglort!"
"No offence!" Aerie yelped a quick apology to a passing orc who had a rather offended look on his face.
She rushed away before a harsh rebuke could be issued, running down the same path she had earlier that day, trying to catch up to the same girl. It was not that she normally ever had trouble keeping up with people… it was just one of those days where things seem to happen in fast forward.
The second Professor Jermien concluded the day's lecture, Imoen bolted out of the room faster than a thief on gold. Aerie had stayed behind to collect both the course outline and the week's homework assignment that were being issued after she had already left. Of course there was the mad rush to get the papers plus the timid avariel had to stutter a hasty excuse why she needed two of each to the professor who suspiciously interrogated that if she was collecting one for her friend, why was that friend not present, what, was his lecture not good enough to attend that they had to send a lackey to take notes for them?
The red-faced avariel finally caught up to her equally crimson flushed friend, albeit the human's coloured tinge stemmed more from barely contained emotional rage rather than physical exertion of movement.
Aerie concluded that Imoen was very angry.
"That stupid… that sonuva… bloody stupid sonuva… ooohhhh!" she sputtered, unable to find the right coherency to vent her anger, so instead finding it more satisfying to stomp her foot as hard as she can.
Aerie winced, feeling quite sorry for the poor ground, "I… I guess you're upset that he's in the same class as us, huh?"
"Upset? Upset!? I'm beyond upset, I'm steamin,' stinkin' pissed off! What's his Abyss damned problem, why can't he just leave me alone? Every time, every single stupid time, he's gotta treat me like I'm some kinda… some kinda science project!"
"Maybe he, I don't know, maybe that's just the way he acts around people?"
They continued walking down the gravel path through carefully tended grass areas where spread about the green blanket here and there were people enjoying the warm noon sun of late summer. There were groups catching up over the holidays, a few reading books and scrolls, while others were passing the time lying on their backs.
Aerie looked fondly around her. Pointless gossip, joyous laughter and contemplative conversations abounded in the atmosphere that played like sweet music to her ears. She knew that it was a laidback time that students were taking advantage of before the workload of the semester could truly weigh down on them. On the other hand there were also others who were still oblivious that it was the end of holidays and usually only around the time of midterms and the handing in of the first homework assignments will panic mode finally set in.
The light feeling sparked the avariel's sense of romance, "Or maybe he only acts like that around you. What if he really, really, really likes you but he just gets so nervous that he becomes so stiff that he's unable to express how he truly feels?"
"Hah!" Imoen scoffed at her friend's naïve gushing, "Jon doesn't know how to feel, he's as emotionally crippled as a doorknob used to stopper a bull's arse!"
"Imoen!" Aerie gasped, her sensitive ears still unused to the provocative language often heard spewing forth from her friend's mouth.
"What? It's true, ask anybody else. He thinks he's all high and mighty just cuz he's always top o' the class an' he just so happens to be takin a buncha honour courses. And I heard he's even got it good wi' some royal elven family or something. C'mon Aerie, y'know all them noble types are snootier than a chimney. Ugh!" Imoen growled throwing up her hands, "Y'know what, forget about it, I don't wanna talk about that pickle-pricked stiff anymore. We have to meet Nalia for lunch anyways an' I only got an hour before my next class."
Aerie was about to say something when she saw something past her friend that made her forget her tongue.
"Hello, my dove," an accented voice said.
"Oh why did the gods have to invent men?" Imoen groaned, her ire rising with the approach of the new person.
"H-hello, Haer'Dalis," Aerie greeted back.
The human girl cast a quick sad glance back at her friend whose voice was both a sorrowful mix of nervousness and loss. She fixed a hard glare at the young man. Despite the vibrant blue hair, smooth features and piercing dark eyes, Imoen was immune to his exotic looks, contempt dripping in her less than friendly greeting.
"What do you want numbnuts?"
Haer'Dalis narrowed his eyes at the human but his gaze softened when he focused back on the avariel. Imoen would not let her imagination get the best of her but the tiefling almost looked… regretful.
"You've been well over the summer?" he asked.
"It… it was fine… it was good seeing everybody at the circus again."
"That's good… it gladdens my heart to hear that."
"…"
"…"
Imoen rolled her eyes at the awkwardness.
"Er… h-how was your summer?"
"Well… it went well… Raelis visited-"
"Okay, that's enough, you're fine, she's fine, we're all fine!" Imoen interrupted, seeing the frailty in Aerie's eyes, "We can chitchat later but for now we've gotta meet a friend, so if you'd get out of the way…"
She grabbed the avariel's hand, shoving past Haer'Dalis despite his protesting, "Please wait, Aerie I must speak with you!"
"Sorry, busy!"
"I was speaking to her!" he shouted, losing his patience.
"As far as I'm concerned, ya lost all your speaking privileges so why don't ya back off!" she screamed back.
"Imoen, don't!" Aerie pleaded, turning to Haer'Dalis with sad eyes, "I'm-I'm sorry… but… we really have to go."
"I…I," the tiefling tried desperately but eventually gave in, "As you wish… I shall… seek you out another time then."
"O-okay," the blonde elf managed before Imoen forcefully yanked her away, looking back and seeing Haer'Dalis had already turned away.
They had gotten further down the path when Aerie finally managed to yank her hand free, "You shouldn't treat him like that you know."
"What? Are ya kidding me?" Imoen cried incredulously about to vent her rage… but the downcast look of the avariel halted her tirade.
"He's… he's not a bad person."
"Aww, Aerie," she said piteously putting her arm around the slender elf's shoulders, "Ya can't be that naïve to forget that he's the one that cheated on you."
"He didn't mean to!" the avariel defended, "a-and… he admitted it… he said he couldn't… couldn't lie to me…"
Imoen sighed heavily. It was the same argument and excuse and for the life of her, she really did not want to go through any of it today.
"Whatever, let's just find Nalia."
"Yeah…"
They walked on in silence for a few minutes… but Imoen's impatience got the best of her,
"Ya know, the offer still stands, I could always get my brother to have a talk wi' him."
Aerie gasped in shock as if Imoen had just suggested first-degree manslaughter… which is essentially what she did.
"No, you can't! He'll kill him and then the police would question us and we'd say, 'no, we don't know anything,' but they'd still know we were lying and then they'd charge us with 'accessory to murder' and then I'd get sent to prison clipping toenails for about ten to fifteen for a really big woman who makes me her baby bi-…!"
Imoen guffawed all throughout her friend's frantic fantasies of prison time.
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Once, it was during those precious moments between heading to class and arriving when she felt the most at peace. Courses were held within the woods far enough for campus noise to fade like memory, only the murmuring of other students faint enough to meld with the voice of the land. As the year would wear on, the experience changed… but the peace would always remain.
…When the trees turned into a hue of yellow and red that weaved with the dark gold of her hair, it was like walking through a warm fire, crackling leaves underfoot and the crisp aroma of 'goodbye' but with a promise of 'hello, again…'
… The crunch of white powder as she left footprints that would be forever lost as she gazed upon the dark skin of bark delicately balancing a burden of countless snow flakes, each crystal tragically without a twin…
… The opening blossom of freshness and rain would assault her senses as the vibrant birth of green, blue, yellow, red and everything in between the rainbow would blur her vision in a cornucopia of exploding life…
… Everlasting heat filling the atmosphere with a lazy charge of activity amongst the whispered breaths of cooling breeze spreading the scent of the fully bloomed forest declaring teeming excitement for the ever bright days…
… Once…
Now the leaves were heavier, the colours duller, the land quieter and the path… lonelier.
The lecture was held in a wide open clearing with a lone standing willow surrounded by rows of fallen logs covered with cushions of moss. Against the backdrop of dense forest and the carpet of plush grass it seemed more like a meeting area of fairies than for students. The professor was standing by the willow, her silver hair tied with a bundle of oak leaves and already half the class was there on the logs while others chose to sit on the ground instead.
Normally she would be up front where she could be seen dedicating half the class's lecture time for the professor to answer her questions… but instead she made her way to one of logs near the back, silently sitting down.
For the entirety of the lecture she diligently took notes and appeared to be listening to the professor speak of the intricacies of spider webs and cloudy skies. She was content to just be there, the only other sign of life in her was accepting paper assignments and outlines as they were handed out.
When it was over she stood up and calmly walked away, only offering faint smiles to those who took the time to acknowledge her.
No one paid any heed her quiet behaviour but to one person's mind, she was like a ghost.
"Jaheira! Hey, Jaheira!"
But she appeared not to have heard someone calling her name, walking further and further away.
"Eh? Cernd, you know her?"
Eyes like polished mahogany followed as the lone half-elf distanced herself from the rest of the class, concern tinged in his tone, "Enough to know what's wrong."
"What do you mean?"
Cernd turned to his friend as they too began walking back to campus, "… It's not my place to say… but… she is no longer the oak atop the grass… but like the plucked rose stolen into a vase..."
"… Mate, you've really gotta stop talking like that."
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"This is an outrage! I demand you recheck the files again! And then recheck them all over again! (Hmph, perhaps even such simple repetitiveness is beyond the abilities of these drones of buffoonery.)"
"Sir," the receptionist said monotonously, "It says so right here… there's nothing else that can be done."
If Edwin was hoping that his patented 'Glare of a Superior Being that Destroys All Unworthy Simians (That's Everybody Else) with Unspoken Ridicule' would have any effect, he was sadly disappointed.
The pink-cotton haired receptionist remained unfazed by his attempts at intimidation, shouting, threatening, invading her personal space and general lack of cooperation. Typical of the usual encounters endured with the thousands of students who came before seeking assistance.
The admissions office was at a peak of activity though there is always general uproar and chaos during the first few weeks of semester. Papers were piling up and not moving anywhere, line ups were growing longer meaning that students were getting even more late for classes, more and more staff were going out to lunch and the screams of annoyance and pleas for help increased in volume.
Classes that were enrolled were not listed while classes that were not listed were enrolled. There were rooms that have been mistakenly switched and so there was priority in getting a tutorial of explosive potion makers out of Fire Salamander Taming 227. A potential riot of enraged females was on the brink of burning down the dorms when a fraternity of halflings were accidentally bunked with a sorority of moon elves. Someone had lost an entire class of first year foreign students somewhere in the Snakewood Forest and a rescue party was being organized… and the meeting to decide who will actually do the searching will be held tomorrow.
On Edwin's right, a halfling lass was on the verge of jumping up to snap someone's neck, the frustration of telling the administration that, no she was not in Clerical studies so why in the Nine Hells should her credits be going into that instead of being counted as her Thievery credentials? Further down an ogre mage was making a scene bawling, weeping, snivelling and crying tears that splattered the unmoving administrator, begging them to let him into one course, just one little course that he needed for his graduation requirements and that he is willing to stand in the back all year long if necessary, just please, please, please, let him register for that course.
People who had waited in line for over an hour were sent back because they had no idea they had to fill in specific forms. Everything from credit transfers to transcript requests were mixed with one another on a table far too small to accommodate the mass of paperwork. The crowd of limbs and cussing mouths trying to grab any form that may be of use seemed a scene more fitted for the discount days at the local supermarket than in an educational institution.
Edwin thought that the administration made it purposely so that they could amuse themselves with the madness of the mainstream simpletons who dared call themselves 'undergraduates.'
"(Obviously dignity is as much a foreign concept as individuality.) I refuse to be treated with such casual disregard, I demand to see your superior!"
"He's out to lunch, sir."
"This is preposterous! How can the personnel in charge of maintaining order for these degenerate masses of cretins be out consuming victuals during this crisis at hand? (The fat embezzlers of the mind are probably gorging themselves on the pre-processed pig slop they call food around here.)"
"They're just hungry, sir, it is lunch time. Even if you could see my superiors, they'd still say the same thing, sir."
"But-but this cannot be! There must be some mistake! (Of course, it's a mistake, I'd expect nothing less from these bureaucratic clones.)"
If the receptionist heard the young man's mutterings, she made no indication of having doing so. Her passive posture retained its glazed look and she continued to snap gum with amazing loudness and clarity. Edwin sneered down at her, his ire growing steadily as he took in her horrendous pink hair, make-up that was put on so thick it would take an archaeological dig to uncover her skin… and that robe is so last century.
"Oh, wait a minute, sir," the monotonous voice droned on, "it seems there is a note attached to your file."
"Ah hah!" Edwin crowed triumphantly, "Once again this training facility for the commercially enslaved has failed to prevent me from toppling its oversized dictators…"
"It's from your father, sir."
"My father?"
"Your father…"
"…"
"…"
Blink.
Blink.
"…"
"…"
"… Well?"
"Well what, sir?"
"(When the revolution comes, your lacklustre social standing shall be the first of many to go.) What… does the note… say?" Edwin ground out.
"It says, 'Tell my son that if he thinks I'm going to pay good money just so that he could sit on his arse protesting one corporate takeover after another, he can forget about it. No child of mine is going to waste the family's hard earned wealth if they cannot even appreciate where it came from.'"
"…"
"…"
"… WHAT!?"
"… It says, 'Tell my son that-'"
"No, I heard you the first time, (overbearing administrator of political tyranny). I just… I mean he-he can't do this!"
"He did, sir."
"But-but… what happened?" Edwin's voice as lost as paperwork through the shredder.
"Your father deposited half your student fees before the start of semester but if you don't pay the other half before the end of the year, you'll be dropped from your classes and lose all credits countable this semester."
Doom fell upon Edwin Odesseiron as he dreaded his next question, "Wh-where am I supposed to come up with that kind of money?"
"It's called a job, sir."
"…"
"…"
"… N-no… No… NNNOOOOOOOOO!!! (I'm screwed.)"
"Will that be all, sir? You're holding up the line, sir."
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"Before we begin I want you all to listen very carefully, I'd like to get one thing straight. I am not your friend, so in the hours before and after class unless during a scheduled appointment, don't you dare greet me in the halls, don't talk to me, don't even smile at me. I'm not your guidance councillor, if you're too stupid or ignorant to figure things out on your own, they have people to help you with that two floors up. I am not your role model, I don't need gullible children who cannot even decide their own outlook on life, create their own personalities or come up with their own philosophies. I'm damn well not your mother, I will not coddle, nurse, be lenient, pity, be merciful, understand or even care about you. In fact, you can't even really call me your teacher because what that will imply is that I must be concerned enough to take you under my wing and explain the facts of life to you. No, I'm not. What I am, ladies and gentlemen, is your educator… meaning I am simply a professor which in turn means that you do not screw up around me."
"…"
Like the rest of the class, Anomen could only stare wide-eyed numb at the professor who practically stalked the floor. A strange panic welled within him, the root of the fear probably being residue from the class he just had before. It seemed as if luck was set against him because none of his courses so far appear to be simple… or at least slack worthy.
Egads, Tymora just handed me over to Beshaba on a silver platter.
"If you didn't get it the first time, let me make it crystal. My only purpose here is to educate you, to train your minds so that they will be used for things other than planning how to satisfy your libidos. I will get you to think. I will get you to understand. I will get you to challenge," the speaker paused taking in the audience before him, "From the faces assembled before me, I see that was easier said than done. Know this! There will no longer be any adolescent bliss like when you were ignorant teenagers, you've all chosen to leave that behind the second you decided to come to this school and into my class. I expect nothing from you but to be competent young adults with the ability to think, organize and act independently for yourselves. If putting your pants on every morning is the only true extent of your mental capabilities then I suggest you drop out… now."
Chuckles broke out sporadically.
"I'm sorry… did you think I was making a joke? Did I crack a grin of some sorts, perhaps some humorous sparkle in my eye that indicated I was attempting to befriend you with light camaraderie?"
Immediately the mirth died faster than their hope.
"If you think your future is a joke then by all means, go ahead and laugh… laugh yourselves to death because that's exactly what's going to happen to any of you who choose not to take this class seriously. You will fail because you cannot comprehend the work and your spirits will die because you've decided to believe that fool who said 'laughter is the best medicine.' Jokes will do none of you any good in here, this is Knowledge and Morality 332, ladies and gentlemen. Only by my approval shall you pass… and the only way to pass this class… is if you can prove to me that you know how to use your mind."
"Excuse me, but what do you mean by that?"
Though the lecture room was quiet before, it seemed a dead silence had descended. Like the lion finding its prey, the professor slowly settled his gaze in one person's direction.
At first he was confused as to why the professor was staring at him… then Anomen's heart leapt into his throat. In his shock he realized that it was himself who asked that question.
Suicidal… yes, I must be suicidal…
A grin that was not friendly grew, "What I mean… is that you must prove to me that you're worthy enough to call yourselves… students."
To his dismay, Anomen's mouth just would not play dead, "I'm sorry, I… I would think it obvious that… that we already are… students. We are, after all, attending classes."
"HAH!" the amused cry making half the class whimper in fear, "As far as I'm concerned your quills are more like students than any of you. Just because you're here, sitting down and listening to me talk does not mean that you have any right to call yourself students. If you don't apply anything with what is being said to what you know, then all you're doing is using up my breathing air. If that's the case then the desks have more of a right to call themselves students, they don't waste oxygen, they're here every day, and are never tardy! No, just attending does not make you students… learning does. Now do you have anymore pearls of obviousness or must we continue this witty conversation and waste even more of your peer's time?"
Anomen bit his tongue. Hard.
"Are there any more questions from the rest of you?"
Only a few were brave enough to shake their heads.
He let his gaze linger on before moving back to the center of the floor, "Remember… I will not suffer laziness or idiocy, I'm not your friend. You will call me Professor Balthazar and nothing else… and believe me, I will test you all to your limits... and then you will have to break through them."
That day, a piece of everyone in that room died a little.