QW14 - School Time

"Did you go to school when you were young?  You must have, surely, to be a scribe, right?  Where was it, Waterdeep? Neverwinter?"

In Candlekeep, Tiaumil looked up from where he had been absently listening to the young scholar who had taken up residence in his room during the remainder of their break.  The youth had been peppering him with questions that, when he was feeling more generous, he might answer.  But those particular questions were more than scholarly interest, more than learning.  It was about learning, certainly, but there was a curiosity there that hid a deeper threat of poorly hidden avarice for knowledge unearned.

"No," he said, not bothering to specify what he was denying, letting his gaze fall more fully on the annoyance in front of him, to better remember someone who wanted to raise in the ranks by any means possible.  All he saw was a poor attempt at looking innocent and curious.  Nothing to see there, the persona said, but it tasted like lies that Tiaumil was, amusingly, schooled to watch out for.

Schooling when he was young was not about books or writing.  It was about survival.  Childbirth was already rare in the Shadowfell, but made all the more catastrophically dangerous because babies and children did not know how to regulate their emotions.  They were creatures of feeling and needs, and that was dangerous for everyone.  That any children and families that managed to conceive them survived, was frankly astonishing.  They had some small magics to help, certainly, but there simply weren't the protections they had in the city.  Children brought danger to everyone.

So early schooling had been about having your needs met promptly, or managing them without complaint or distress.  It was about meditation techniques, about hiding, about knowing what to hide from.  If you survived to four years old, you got taught other things; of the physical threats.  The monsters.  Of the first training with weapons to see what small skill might be gleaned even from such a young age.  What you might learn proficiency with.  After that, well, you had to learn of other monsters.  Of the people.  Of the lies they told in every look, every gesture.  Of the cruelties and how to avoid them.  Of the word games, the dance of culture and society, of who to avoid and why, and who might be worth currying favour from.  They were taught to form groups of friends for safety, of never being out alone if you could help it, no matter what form the monsters took.

He let his gaze fall back onto the scrolls in front of him, ignoring the follow-up questions that came from the youth on the other side of his desk.  It had been a pathetic attempt at verbal prodding and investigation, and he wouldn't reward anyone for such a pitiful offering.  

Eventually, the youth left his room, and he focused more fully on the scroll in front of him.  He needed to copy several of these before his day ended, and he preferred the silence to the yapping of pups.

Caelyth leaned back against the log, the fire’s glow painting light and shade across the night. He swirled the little tin cup of wine in his hand, took a sip, then gave a faint smile. "Schooling, you say? Hah. In Evermeet, that is not a simple thing to measure. We do not speak of a few years of letters and numbers, then off to a trade. No, there, learning is life itself." His eyes drifting toward the flames as memories started to flood his mind...

"I was born into the Hawksong line. Much of what I learned as a child came from my kin themselves. Stories of our ancestors, the beauty of our art, the delicate shapes of song and poetry. When the lessons turned to things the family could not provide, tutors were arranged. A soldier to teach the principles of blade fight, for instance. History of the elven people and the Seldarine, of course… specific lessons on stories and rituals connected to our Goddess, Sehanine Moonbow. She is… close to us, you see. Some whisper she is patron of our house. Many tell stories that non-elves are not able to find Evermeet... and that is indeed true. From her priests I learned about the veil of illusion she cast over our island Herself, hiding it from eyes who are not entitled to see it." 

He poked the log with a stick, sending a flurry of sparks rising into the night. "As soon as I reached the proper age, I was sent to the Academy of Magic. That is where talent is honed, the gift tested. I did well - enough to be noticed, anyway. They sent me on to Tower Reilloch after the first years, where the most promising students are shaped. There, my path turned to abjuration. Wards, shields, the very bones of defense. I served in the defense circle of our city, weaving my spells into new barriers to protect our land from those who would pierce it. And in those libraries, I spent hours, days, years reading the wise words of those who came before... brilliant minds, like Araevin Teshurr. His tomes are impressive, his studies on the nature of High Magic... Anyway, I start to lose myself..."

For a moment he fell silent, listening to the fire pop. The dwarf, another guard who was hired to protect the caravan, as Caelyth, seemed to be listening to him - if really interested in his stories or just enjoying his ale with some background noise, he couldn't tell. Caelyth smiled faintly, wistful. "And all the while, the forest itself taught us too. The fey dwell close in Evermeet. The boundary to their realm is thinner than a whisper. Many of us, myself included, spent time learning from them, in small ways. A song, a riddle, a fragment of truth wrapped in laughter. It was… a good life. Good memories."

He lifted his cup and drained it; his eyes focused, as if he was thinking and talking to himself. "And yet," he gestured vaguely toward the caravan’s wagons and to the road around them, "there is beauty in other ways too. Human cultures, dwarves, halflings, gnomes… I’ve seen glimmers already that make me hungry to know more. You build, you remember, you adapt in ways that fascinate me. Different life spans, perceptions, objectives... My people have much to learn, though they might not admit it."

"Cheers to that, elf. You know, you are less annoying than I remembered your people to be", he said with a wink - Caelyth couldn't decide if it was a joke or not, but decided it didn't really matter.

He leaned forward, setting the empty cup aside, and gave his companion an intent look, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. "So then, I have spoken enough of elven towers and forests. Tell me, master dwarf, you said you were born in the Mithral Hall, did you not? What was it like, to live beneath the steady mountains of the North? I imagine your halls must have sung with a different kind of wisdom entirely." 

Schooling? She hadn't even heard the word before coming to the material plane. Knowledge in the feywild was shared between creatures either willingly or through tricks or deals. She had soon realised things worked differently in the matieral plane. You could actually just walk into a building were they just let you read tons of books with all kinds of knowledge. Some of these buildings were a bit more exlusive but it was often very easy to get in one way or another. But the information was there! Written down, for anyone to read. 

The only thing that seemed to be a limiting factor was money or wealth and with that time. People with no money or wealth didn't really had the time to go to a school or to these places of knowledge cuz they had to spend their time making a living instead. Wealthy families however they just sent there children to learn a lot of things from a very early age, they were more or less forced to learn. Very intriguing!