Annotate
Tavi of Calderon
History will attend to itself.
28 May 2010 @ 04:28 am
24 May 2010 @ 09:27 pm
07 March 2010 @ 01:23 am
15 February 2010 @ 09:46 pm
It started out in mathematics, of course. They had been working a problem, and a suggestion made by someone was utterly wrong. Tavi could see what to do, but he was several steps ahead. He had no idea what the actual answer was--but he could see how to find the rest of it at a glance.
Another hand went up, several desks away. A glance took in a boy just about his own size, sort of mousy. He started filling in the details--and when they got to the next step, Tavi supplied the method.
(Next to him, he suspected Max was paying little to no attention--but then, there was a particularly pretty classmate of theirs a few seats away. It hadn't taken more than a couple days to figure that out about the Antillan. It was amusingly exasperating to Max's far more studious roommate.)
The rest of that class was much the same way, really--Tavi seeing the method and generalization of the approach, the other boy (Ehren, he remembered noting) supplying the details and specific answers. It was a natural rhythm, in its way, and between them they didn't miss a beat. Tavi had flashed him a quick smile as the class ended, but both of their small sizes meant he lost track in the crowd leaving.
*
Once outside, Tavi stops and starts scanning the crowd. "Max, wait up a minute. There's someone I want to talk to--maybe he'll want to come to lunch."
Another hand went up, several desks away. A glance took in a boy just about his own size, sort of mousy. He started filling in the details--and when they got to the next step, Tavi supplied the method.
(Next to him, he suspected Max was paying little to no attention--but then, there was a particularly pretty classmate of theirs a few seats away. It hadn't taken more than a couple days to figure that out about the Antillan. It was amusingly exasperating to Max's far more studious roommate.)
The rest of that class was much the same way, really--Tavi seeing the method and generalization of the approach, the other boy (Ehren, he remembered noting) supplying the details and specific answers. It was a natural rhythm, in its way, and between them they didn't miss a beat. Tavi had flashed him a quick smile as the class ended, but both of their small sizes meant he lost track in the crowd leaving.
*
Once outside, Tavi stops and starts scanning the crowd. "Max, wait up a minute. There's someone I want to talk to--maybe he'll want to come to lunch."
17 December 2009 @ 05:17 pm
Tavi has been telling himself for days that he's not worried about the start of his term at the Academy. After all, it's what he's wanted for years.
(He's not worried at all about going in without any furies. He doesn't need them--he's gotten this far without them. And he knows, from being in the Bar, that not everyone has furies. That the Alerans came from the Romans and the Romans definitely didn't have furies, and they somehow learned and built the Realm. So crows if he couldn't do the same. And he would. That much he is dead certain of. )
But he's gotten used to being a page, and learned his way around a little bit. So classes on top of that can't be too bad, right?
(The whole roommate thing isn't intimidating at all, either. After all, he doesn't have to worry about what kind of impression he makes, right? Besides which, under Gaius' patronage or not, he was still just the furyless Calderon boy. So long as he stays normal and friendly, the rest of the impression really doesn't matter. It won't be anyone important anyway. It's not like he's a little nervous about dealing with whole new world like this all alone.)
So, after a day of running a few messages for the First Lord and learning his way around the city more, he's finally headed back to his room, still munching on some bread from the market and fully intending as he pushes the door open to simply flop on his bed and maybe get some reading done for classes ahead of time--if only for lack of anything to do.
(He's not worried at all about going in without any furies. He doesn't need them--he's gotten this far without them. And he knows, from being in the Bar, that not everyone has furies. That the Alerans came from the Romans and the Romans definitely didn't have furies, and they somehow learned and built the Realm. So crows if he couldn't do the same. And he would. That much he is dead certain of. )
But he's gotten used to being a page, and learned his way around a little bit. So classes on top of that can't be too bad, right?
(The whole roommate thing isn't intimidating at all, either. After all, he doesn't have to worry about what kind of impression he makes, right? Besides which, under Gaius' patronage or not, he was still just the furyless Calderon boy. So long as he stays normal and friendly, the rest of the impression really doesn't matter. It won't be anyone important anyway. It's not like he's a little nervous about dealing with whole new world like this all alone.)
So, after a day of running a few messages for the First Lord and learning his way around the city more, he's finally headed back to his room, still munching on some bread from the market and fully intending as he pushes the door open to simply flop on his bed and maybe get some reading done for classes ahead of time--if only for lack of anything to do.
24 November 2009 @ 12:03 am
"...as you will study next term, the theories that the records are implying non-furycrafting methods of engineering are blatantly ridiculous..." The instructor paused as a small and completely un-tentative hand went into the air. "...Ah. Tavi Patronus Gaius. You had a question."
Tavi kept his voice steady with some effort. "Why are they ridiculous, sir?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
He could already hear the snickers, could feel the knowing looks, and was already certain that Brencis would find an excuse to beat him bloody again after class. Bloody crows. "Why are the theories ridiculous?"
The instructor look at him almost pityingly, his voice condescending as he replied, "While I understand your interest, Academ, the idea that Alerans would need to resort to other methods so long as we had furycrafting is absolutely perposterous. Now, as I was saying... Yes, Tavi?"
"Is there any evidence against the theories?"
That earned him a glare. "Simple common sense, young man."
"But what if we didn't always have crafting?" There was a weighted silence, and Tavi bravely forged ahead. "I've read some of the older texts, sir. The Gallic Wars. It's standard reading for strategy instruction. It makes no mention of crafting."
After another pregnant pause, the teacher said coldly, "Doubtless because it was implied. You may take it up in more detail next semester, Academ. Now, unless you have anything productive to contribute, I would suggest you remain silent."
Tavi sighed internally. Just what he needed. And then he felt a small pebble hit the back of his head, and winced. "As if the freak could ever produce anything worth while," he heard Kalarus Brencis Minoris sneer.
He sank into his seat a little, hearing Max as Brencis if he needed his head slammed into the ground again, and the teacher angrily calling for order. Today was not going to be fun.
*
Later, after class, Tavi sat silently eating his lunch, trying to ignore the throbbing in his nose and face. It hadn't been too bad, today--Brencis had only slammed him into a wall. Ehren'd been worse off--Max had taken him to the healers. Tavi's nose was really only a little bloody.
Still hurt like the crows, though.
Tavi kept his voice steady with some effort. "Why are they ridiculous, sir?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
He could already hear the snickers, could feel the knowing looks, and was already certain that Brencis would find an excuse to beat him bloody again after class. Bloody crows. "Why are the theories ridiculous?"
The instructor look at him almost pityingly, his voice condescending as he replied, "While I understand your interest, Academ, the idea that Alerans would need to resort to other methods so long as we had furycrafting is absolutely perposterous. Now, as I was saying... Yes, Tavi?"
"Is there any evidence against the theories?"
That earned him a glare. "Simple common sense, young man."
"But what if we didn't always have crafting?" There was a weighted silence, and Tavi bravely forged ahead. "I've read some of the older texts, sir. The Gallic Wars. It's standard reading for strategy instruction. It makes no mention of crafting."
After another pregnant pause, the teacher said coldly, "Doubtless because it was implied. You may take it up in more detail next semester, Academ. Now, unless you have anything productive to contribute, I would suggest you remain silent."
Tavi sighed internally. Just what he needed. And then he felt a small pebble hit the back of his head, and winced. "As if the freak could ever produce anything worth while," he heard Kalarus Brencis Minoris sneer.
He sank into his seat a little, hearing Max as Brencis if he needed his head slammed into the ground again, and the teacher angrily calling for order. Today was not going to be fun.
*
Later, after class, Tavi sat silently eating his lunch, trying to ignore the throbbing in his nose and face. It hadn't been too bad, today--Brencis had only slammed him into a wall. Ehren'd been worse off--Max had taken him to the healers. Tavi's nose was really only a little bloody.
Still hurt like the crows, though.