Snippet #2522077

Sherah strode through the passageways, her pace quickened by emotion. The robes she wore, white as a symbol of her proficiency in air manipulation, swirled around her feet, kicked and dragged about by their rapid movement. With a frustrated sigh, she lifted them up with a jerk of her hand. Had students been around, she would have never done so. Casually using one's abilities to do mundane jobs was look down upon. Fiercely. As a teacher, she especially could not be seen breaking one of the most fundamental rules of the Small Order. But the students were all sound asleep in their beds, on the other side of the compound. Their day had finished.
On reaching her destination, Sherah breathed in deeply. It was a thick wooden door, made of expensive oak, imbedded in rock. Its hinges were golden, and thinly scrawled designs sprung across the wood from each. They were illegible to her, but it was said they told a story in a language long since forgotten. It was unlike any language she had ever studied. Even the design of the door was ancient. She did not knock on the door, but she pushed it open slightly. After a pause, it opened by itself, a quiet invitation to enter.
She knew no kind winds blew on the news she would receive within this study. She would leave these same door with a heavier heart. But there was no stopping it. Stepping inside, Sherah nodded her head to the ground as a simple sign of respect and then straightened up. There was a short corridor that opened up to a circular study before her. Within a couple strides, she was in the middle of the study. The occupant of the study sat on a straight backed chair, staring straight ahead at the sofa where visitors were expected to sit.
Sherah did not sit. "Jaya came to us today. With news. She watched as Neiu left the city with two unknown companions. As far as I knew, she was on a scouting trip."
"You were correct."
"Scouting does not involve interacting with your subjects."
"She was told not to. Explicitly."
"She is my student, I demand to know what she is doing, leaving the city limits with the gale of the Rebellion about to break down our gates."
"Neiu is not a natural deceiver. She is a natural survivor. We mislead her so that she would deceive them in turn, far more successfully than she would have had she the time to overthink her task."
Sherah exhaled sharply through her nose. "Neiu is not ready. Birds nudge their chicks out of their nests, aye, but they stay with them as they flail about clumsily. You are throwing Neiu out of the garden, into the desert, leaving her to fend for herself."
"Neiu chose to dedicate her life to our cause."
"That does not mean she must give it up so soon!"
"That girl is a wisp of air caught up in Sha'ik's whirlpool. Where the Goddess takes her is where she's meant to go. Do you question her?"
"No, I question you."
"The Small Order welcomes honest feedback, but you must remember with whom you're speaking to."
Sherah ground her teeth in frustration. "What will I tell those who ask where she has gone?"
"Her place in this Rebellion lay elsewhere."
Sherah nodded curtly. That was as good an answer as she expected to get. She moved around the sofa and sat down across from the high backed chair. "We have other matters to discuss as well."
"Not at this hour. Go to your quarters. We will speak tomorrow." The voice almost seemed to soften. "You will need your rest."
Sherah pushed herself up again. "I greatly doubt I will sleep soundly, but I will go. Please watch over her."
"Keep her in your prayers, and Sha'ik will care for her."
Sherah paused. Then she nodded again. "For she is all knowing in her mercy."
A breeze passed over her face like a blessing. She took that as her cue to go. Readjusting her robes, she swept out and closed the oak door behind her with a heavy heart.