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benthic_university2025-06-24 12:01 am
Correspondence Scholarship, Class Three [Tuesday Morning, June 24th]
This week, The Academic was on time for their own class. They’d cleared the chalkboards, refilling them with an extensive list of symbols. Though each clearly corresponded to The Correspondence, not one was scarcely more complex than the radicals they’d learned last week.
“While technically correct, you will almost never see any of these symbols on a plaque or temple wall. We’re still one step away from proper symbols." The Academic stepped away from the display, inviting the eyes of the students to begin to roam over the writing." But put your goggles on now, and look! You can see it now, can’t you?”
Not all of the symbols were rendered in plain white chalk. Every tenth symbol or so, there were tinges of something else, something reddish, or violet, or-
The Academic smacked the dust from their claws. “Yes, there is a touch of violant pigment in some of the chalk. I’m making very, very sparse use of it, in order to assist you in memorization of these patterns and connections. Under regular circumstances, it would take a scholar roughly a year of back-breaking expeditions to The Forgotten Quarter, or Bazaar Back-Alley deals to find and collect scraps of symbols from under the watchful eye of the government.” The Academic clasped their hands behind their back. “Don’t try to memorize it. Simply take your time with it, as you might glance at a broadsheet on your way to the green grocer.”
It wasn’t impossible to look away from. These symbols were laced with neither compulsion nor trickery. If anything, it was little more than a word search. There was no need to read from right to left, when the pattern is as interesting upwards, or diagonal.
But the longer you look, the less the symbols seem to be aligned into strict rows and columns. The entire thing feels convex. But that can’t be right, because each one is right above the other. Some on either edge of the entire grid have more in common with one another than the ones that are next to them. But why does the noun for “light” have so much in common with the verb for “to commit violence?” Why is your stomach so tight? How does your gut balance that with the satisfying scratching under the surface of your skull, the itching sated again and again by noting which symbols connect to which ones connect to which ones connect to which-
A snap as wood clatters against wood. You aren’t done when The Academic pulls down a second layer of boards, filled with another grid. But when you glance at the wall, over an hour of the class’ time has fled into the void of the past. That feels wrong both ways. You’d only just looked up. But you’d also been playing for days. Playing? Yes, of course. If it hadn’t been fun, you would’ve looked away. But your mind feels as though you’ve finished solving a fiendishly tricky puzzle. Indeed, as you look back to the new symbols, you’re about to connect new information. You’re not just looking.
You’re reading.
The Academic clapped their hands, startling any new reveries before they began. “You may wish to stretch your legs before diving into the next set. These ones shouldn’t take quite as long, but you’ve already been working very hard.”
Faces stirred around the classroom, the other students managing to blink. Each stirring snap of eyelids knocked tears loose to stream down their faces, landing and pooling in the cups of their goggles.
Oh. There was a tickling sensation on your cheek, and a coldness at the rim of your googles. You too.
Perhaps that break wasn’t such a bad idea.
Once everyone had a good chance to stand up, get a good drink in and a good cry out, The Academic reconvened class.
“This is applied use of The Correspondence. Heavier usage of violant pigment can force a reader to recall certain words, and there are ways to inscribe symbols in a way that conveys, conducts, or enhances meaning.” The Academic gestured back to the board. “This grid system invites the reader to draw connections, and the use of the faintest dash of violant helps the mind to hold onto important information while continuing to read. This effect is only temporary, but the best study happens when you are able to begin employing the symbols on your own terms. Perhaps the effect could be made permanent if I’d written the entire thing with a stronger shade of violant...” The Academic clucked their tongue against their teeth. “But I’m not looking to burn my readings on these symbols into your mind. It’s much better for me to pass on what I know as a foundation, and to get you building your own voices as quickly as possible.” They tapped their boot on the stone floor, and lifted an eyebrow. “If we wanted everyone to simply agree with me, we might as well throw me into a Rubbery vat and attempt to make copies. But your perspectives are valuable. Irreplaceable. Don’t forget that, while you look at the next set of boards."
As before, the end of class came before anyone was quite done. The Academic rolled up each and every board, spiriting the grids out of sight.
“That’s it. Don’t ask for any more time with them. The correspondence can be highly addictive, but looking at these grids won’t teach you anything else you don’t already know. If you’ve still got the itch, look over your study materials this week. Next week you’ll begin writing in earnest.”
The Academic gripped their lectern. “You may be experiencing the dread beginning to overtake you. This is normal. Learning languages opens up new ways of thinking. Learning The Correspondence opens up venues of cognition man was not meant to know.” Claws adjusted their monocle, like fingers worrying at a cuff. “And the speed with which you have all broken new ground this week will be…trying. Your sleep tonight will be unpleasant. That is one side effect of studying The Correspondence. Thus, you have two homework tasks this week. First-“ The Academic added this to an empty chalkboard, “-write down one of your nightmares. Especially if a particular vision proves to be recurring. You don’t need to do anything but be aware of it. If a dream repeats, there is a kernel of truth in it, and it’s better to be aware of what it’s telling you.
Second assignment: get rid of the nightmares.” The Academic underlined this, twice. “If they get worse, you’ll be forced to take a stay in hospital, and that will get in the way of your studies, and effectively waste MY time, too. So. Find something soothing. A good meal, time spent with someone you think you can trust, several bottles of opiates. I don’t care what you use, so long as it works. You don’t need to bring it into class; I’ll be able to look in your eyes next week and tell. Anyone who comes into class with a haggard and haunted look will…” The Academic looked from face to face, then smiled.
“…not receive homework points!” They tossed their chalk back to the lip beneath the chalkboard. “That, of course, is all the punishment which I care to offer. If you choose to ignore my warning, then tonight you will immediately receive a somewhat more natural incentive.” They took up a rag and an atomizer of their own, before promptly beginning to clean the chalkboards.
“Class dismissed!”
Re: Break Time
Re: Break Time
"Ah, yes, I don't see why not..." The Pupil cleared their throat and heavily avoided direct eye contact for the moment.
Re: Break Time
Re: Break Time
"Mmhm," The Pupil lowered their eyed, closing them slowly and taking a second to feel the pressure behind their eyes unwinding. For a second they imagined their eyes would fall out the moment they reopened them, roll out and sprout spider eyes, skittering away without them... But when they did open their eyes none of such nonsense occurred, they were just alone in a cool hallway with a lovely seeming person. "You really don't have to do that. I'm sure you must feel... Pretty awful yourself, that is to say..."
It would seem it was time to make a fool of themselves as they sputtered and tripped over their words as to not insinuate it was because of her looks, or her manner or anything untoward. "Really, truly, surely... Thank you."
Re: Break Time
Re: Break Time
It was always worse to wretch with an empty stomach and with their thoughts so preoccupied, The Pupil couldn't actually recall what they had last eaten. Apologetic, borderline pathetic eyes flicked up momentarily to The Brash Devil, then back to The Maven as they went to accept the handout.
Re: Break Time
Re: Break Time
"You brought scones last week, didn't you? Lavender ones... Do you prepare them often?"
Re: Break Time
She had noticed the side-eye, and felt compelled to ask, "So, is everything alright? In terms of the experience just now, and otherwise?"
Re: Break Time
"You are fine, Maven. And so am I, will be at the very least." They hummed a confirmation, finishing of their beverage before standing. Their tone was a bit all over the place and they knew it; they tried not to sound annoyed at the poor girl but in being agitated that was just how the metaphorical scone would crumble. "I have a good sense of smell, for better or worse is all." Their shoulders weakly lift into a halfhearted shrug. "Also, I do believe you may have said what was bothering you in spite of yourself." The Pupil tried a smile to break the tension.
Re: Break Time
She had to conclude that the Pupil must be messing with her. Given their odd tone and the side-eye just now, that seemed to make the most sense. She continued to wonder if she did something to offend them at some point. Maybe she could ask during their promenade, whenever they schedule it, but now was probably not the time with all that happened.
She let it go for now since the Pupil seemed to be trying to break the tension. She returned the smile, allowing the tension to ease as she said, "Well, I don't think I did, but I'm glad you seem to be feeling better at least. Do you feel alright to return to the class, or do you need some more time?"