Correspondence Scholarship, Class Three [Tuesday Morning, June 24th]

[theexdisgracedacademic]

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!”

Comments

[themorbidsocialite]

As soon as the Socialite looked up from the sign in sheet, he smiled brightly on coming face to face with the Maven. "Ah, good morning! A pleasant day for it, truly pleasant. The False Summer does, at times, drag, but my wife came up with this wonderful method of cooling the flat and I would be more than happy to share--"

They soon paused, noticing something between strain and a lingering question in the Maven's gaze. Then they realized the oddity. "Dear Maven, I apologize, you were likely here at the front for a reason. Might I ask why? Is there something on your mind?"

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Oh, I did," Maven looked a bit embarrassed at being so obvious, "But after talking with the Chimeric Professor we agreed it's probably better to discuss it after class. Would you have time to talk afterwards with everyone else? We had an idea we wanted to discuss with everyone."

[themorbidsocialite]

The Socialite practically beamed, a far cry from the smooth and practiced charm of first meeting someone. His smile creased his cheeks and pushed at the corners of his eyes in a way that called upon his real age to give the look authenticity. "Ah, wonderful! I look forward to discussing it with the rest of you! Now, with the False Summer creeping in, may I tell you of this marvelous method my wife employed in cooling the flat? I apologize, I'm just so proud and enamored, I must seem like a giddy school child!"

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Of course!" Maven smiled warmly at the Socialite's demeanor and their obvious pride at his wife's work and brilliance, "I can tell you're just bursting to talk about it, and I'll admit any method to keep cool sounds very welcome!"

[themorbidsocialite]

"My beautiful wife, my Dinah, she employed the thirty Araby fighting weasels in my care to man a wheel pinned with flimsy roof tiling to create something akin to an automatic fanning machine. However! With the application of the chipping of ice from our icebox carefully applied to a bowl of water and position in proximity to the machine, the air is cooled before being spread about! It provides an outlet for the excitable weasels and chills the flat to a balmy twenty or thirty degrees! Remarkable, the ingenuity of one employed in the streets, I will say." The Socialite flushed a blight red. "Ah, but I've rambled long enough. Please, do pardon my loose mouth."

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Not at all, that sounds like quite the invention!" Maven assured, hanging on every word as they spoke, "So this is set up in their enclosure and hooked up to a running wheel? It does sound like a remarkable way to keep them entertained while also cooling the house; your wife seems like a brilliant inventor!"

[themorbidsocialite]

The Socialite laughed warmly. "Oh, she would so loathe to hear you say that. She has great pride in her work as a... sublegal contract courier. But her ingenuity, as with all human cleverness, comes from need. She's quite capable because there was a time in which she wasn't, she had neither the tools nor the know-how to create something so ingenious. I believe she's self-deprecating in some respect, but she has a point that invention comes from necessity."

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven nodded in understanding, the smile on her face still warm but now tinged with a bit of nostalgic sadness, "I see. I think I understand, my mother was very similar from what I can remember. Your wife sounds like a very resourceful and clever person."

[themorbidsocialite]

"She truly is. I am blessed by something, surely, that I should have such wonderful lovers..." With a soft chuckle, the Morbid Socialite looked up. "I apologize, I've talked so much of myself and my loves; what of you and the Devil?"

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Oh no need to apologize, it's very sweet to see how much you care for them. As for us, there isn't much to tell, we've been busy with our orphanage, taking care of the little ones, plus I had several house calls to make to patients. It's been busy, but nothing particularly eventful."

Then Maven's eyebrows shot up, "Oh wait, there was one really sweet moment that happened the other day! Often we'll get the children in our care presents, particularly if they are gaining an interest in something because we want to help foster that interest. One of the children in our care, Robert, he has gained an interest in cooking and baking, and has even been taking his reading lessons that much more seriously to try and read the recipes. Well, during one of my honey's errands he happened upon a cookbook for Robert to have, because up until that point he had just been using the kitchen's cookbook. But this way he could freely peruse his own personal cookbook on his own time without needing to borrow any from the kitchen, and he could make notes in the cookbook if he wanted, and anything he could want. And the way Robert face his lit up just about made my heart melt, giving the biggest hug afterwards, and Robert had him help taste test some stuff later..."

Her eyes drifted over to The Brash Devil, her face radiating pure warmth and love but simply saying, "It was very sweet, I think they had a lovely time together."

[themorbidsocialite]

"One would not have guessed it from his attitude in this class, but it seems our Brash Devil has a heart of solid gold. To witness the softer side of a person is such an intimate privilege and one not many get to experience. I am glad for you, that you have each other. From your stories, he does seem a lovely partner."

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

Maven smiled at that. There was a part of her that wanted to expound even more on that, to help everyone understand how wonderful she thought he was and to see how he was more than the attitude he presented to others.

But at the same time, she knew how insecure he was over the very things she loved about him. He had once told her how he never felt like a "proper devil." She could see that his uncaring and thorny behavior hid a heart that cared way too much than what was considered appropriate for a devil. The reason he wasn't often in the company of other devils, how painfully aware he was at how different he was from them, and that other devils took every opportunity to point out his shortcomings. That even in finding others to be around in the various urchin gangs, he would still always be an outsider.

Even as she wished others could see him the way she did, she knew it wasn't her place to make them understand. These were his personal demons and it would be awful of her to air it all out for everyone to see just in the hopes that they would understand him.

So she simply nodded, "Thank you. I do feel blessed to have him in my life. Even before coming to the Neath there were... a lot of hardships. But his friendship made things a little more bearable. And I think adjusting to life in the Neath would have been a much bigger trial if I didn't have him by my side to help explain life down here. I admit I have a habit of taking on far more than I should, and I... don't do the best job of caring for myself. But he helps me slow down when I need to, to have leisure time so I don't burn myself out, and making sure I'm eating and sleeping properly instead of working through it."

[themorbidsocialite]

The Morbid Socialite listened to her and smiled, soft and understanding. Love, all manners of it, was so very important. Love kept company the lost and alone. Love reminded the caring to care for themselves. Love motivated the weary and kept alive the suffering. Love could make a man enter the Neath and love could make a man at peace with never leaving. Love drove life, beauty, ingenuity, hope. The love between the Maven and the Devil was inspiring, as the two complemented each other, both singular wholes and yet greater together.

"Your love is what ancient poets sought and what all this wide and varied world turns for. Keep it and keep it close."

[the_soft_hearted_maven]

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Maven smiled at their kind words, "I wish the same for you and your spouses, it sounds like you have a very sweet and special bond as well."