19th of Yaris, 2719
WEST CAMPUS | AFTERNOON
WEST CAMPUS | AFTERNOON
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"I t is good to see you back on campus, Mister Siordanti. I especially enjoyed your presentations during the Gala of Physics! Will you be returning to teaching classes in the new year? Perhaps a bit of League participation?" Castor Devlin strode with the kind of purpose that Nauleth had always envied, moving with a grace and poise, mona thick and expressive in the Magister's Perceptive-laden field. He wore a bit of weariness in his features, however, and the redheaded younger man knew the sensation of worry far too well after his time spent practically imprisoned in Gior."I didn't think I'd ever actually have to say it's good to be back, Magister Devlin."
Naul almost grunted, glancing away from the dark-haired older galdor to glare out the windows of the hall they walked together through, feeling the glitter of glorious sunlight on his freckled face. He carried a rather heavy box full of personal belongings—really, just books—and over his shoulder was slung his satchel full of, yees, more books. He could have requested assistance, of course, from any number of the gated passive population, but, for so many reasons, Naul was admittedly hesitant. Instead, he chose to endure the dry season heat and the sting of damaged nerves himself, though it certainly didn't show on his face,
"But it is definitely my hope to return to both research—on the rifts and leyfabric and also electromagnetism—as well as taking up a class or two. I have already been asked to judge or coach for Dueling League, yes, though I'll admit I miss participating—maybe I should. Anyway, I have been invited to discuss monic theory with your own research partner, Professor Moore—I'm not entirely sure why, but I have a guess or two—"
"—he and I were, as far as we know, the first to discover a rift here in Anaxas, so there is already some research for you to catch up on. Your personal experiences will be very valuable, I'm sure. However, if it's our passive research that makes you question Harper's theoretical knowledge, then that is something you two will have to work out in conversation." There was a hint of amusement in Castor's voice, an awareness. It was more than likely that the Magister already knew of Naul's decision to become legal guardian of a Gioran passive, and that realization caused the younger man to frown,
"N-no. I can't say that is much of an issue. Or maybe it is. I'm not sure. I'm quite conflicted on that subject, but I've seen a rift with my own eyes and been so achingly close to it in the Deep that, honestly, the issue of passivity in our current society is perhaps the least of my concerns."
Ah, and then the other man laughed. It was knowing and strangely bitter, the Magister's dark eyes twinkling with a mischief Nauleth didn't understand. Clapping him gently on the back, Castor hummed his words, grinning like a hatcher in a way that was too disturbing for the redhead who'd faced the mythical beasts before and lived—barely.
"Oh, Mister Siordanti, I'm sure your experiences have opened your mind wider than that."
"Well—uh—" The younger galdor blinked, pausing there in the hall, heat crawling up the back of his neck toward his face. His mind wandered back into the Deep, past the gilded, bejeweled skulls of passive children and their empty eye sockets watching his intrepid party on their way toward their doom in the depths. He wasn't sure if Castor was trying to coax him into making a connection he couldn't see, wasn't sure if passives and the monic disturbances were somehow related, but he didn't have the presence of mind in this moment to steer his thoughts completely onto that course, "—perhaps. It's become rather complicated and difficult to articulate."
"All the more reason to discuss things with Moore and myself. I'm sure you will separate your research from your classroom teachings with proper prudence, Mister Siordanti."
"Yes. That much I'm sure of." Nauleth nodded, adjusting the satchel of books he was returning to his little narrow closet of an office over his shoulder with a shrug, feeling the dull ache settle into damaged nerves and ligaments of his left side, "There are things galdori students are not prepared or yet ready to deal with. Not to say I am—or was—ready, either, but here we are."
The Magister smirked in agreement, far too aware of where he was in the situation, in the status of Anaxi people, and in magical awareness. The Perceptive professor's well-developed field flexed and filled the space between the two men with its impressive weight, and Castor paused, tilting his head toward a hallway that led toward another wing of the Hall,
"Indeed, here we are. And now, much too soon, unfortunately, I must be off this way toward the Headmistress' office. May Alioe bless you getting settled back here on Campus, and I look forward to working on some research together."
"Thank you, Magister Devlin. That feeling is mutual." Naul mustered a smile, though somewhere in his narrow, freckled chest, he was sure he felt his heart grow heavy like lead, dragged down into his stomach by that irrefutable force called gravity that he'd bent so many times with magic. He watched the other man walk away, feeling keenly the ebb of the powerful sorcerer's field as it faded from his senses, only to see Castor turn one last time with an almost boyish grin on his well-aged face,
"Oh, and congratulations on your recent nuptials, Mister Siordanti. I hope your marriage is far more successful than mine."
Sunlight danced over his back, seeping through his clothes in the Yaris heat and it felt so clocking good he couldn't even care that he was already soaked. He blinked at the admission from the Magister, finding it hard to say thank you and give his condolences at the same time, "Well, I suppose you have an opportunity to impart some wisdom so I can learn from your mistakes."
Mister Devlin laughed again, shaking his head, and turned again, leaving Nauleth alone in the crossing of halls. The thrill of the Gala of Physics had faded, but he'd had several requests for more meetings and suggestions for patents on his work with alternating currents. Setting his office back up again in order to arrange for meetings on Campus instead of at his home full of Giorans seemed like the most expedient first step.
Not that he felt as though he had anything to be ashamed of, especially not any of his choices made in the escape from Gior and his companions, even Leyenak. Naul almost would have admitted to getting used to the feeling of dread that clung to him like some kind of after effect of overcasting or runoff from a series of too many League duels.
Turning away, the eldest Siordanti knew the steps to his old closet of an office by heart, the path ingrained into his muscle memory much like his bike route from his home in the Stacks. Not expecting many students to even know he'd returned to Brunnhold yet, nor really expecting any visitors at all in the heat of the dry season on campus, he made his way to his office nestled between the other professors of Physical conversation on one side and the Physics department on the other, setting his box down with a growl and thunk.
Leaning against the wall, he wiped the sweat from the side of his face with the back of his hand before fumbling in his vest pocket for his keys, quite sure he'd locked his door all those godsbedamned months ago.
Welcome to Brunnhold. Now go home.
