Yet for all that, the halls were empty and silent, and serene, tiles still glimring against the sunlight through windows high emplaced above. Wood, so richly saturated with a resolute color, a touch of age in so many parts of the building— the academy was not a new thing. A long ti ago, it had been built to last, and it lasted still… changed, but not beyond recognition.
The regular classes would be getting out soon, which… he did not want to get caught up in the rush, especially with how very energetic so of the students could get when it ca to interrogating their instructors. Why he, an Immortal Sovereign, seed unable to command the sa respect as Instructor Nin was beyond him, but he was loath to experience that again…
Making up his mind after only a second’s indecision, he changed his course, taking a right deeper into the academy and only a minute or so later pushing open the door to the staff break room. This room was different again from the rest of the academy— clearly more modern in construction, counters tiled and walls plastered over first with drywall and then again with a cheery coat of pastel orange paint, and a third ti with a bunch of posters that probably should’ve been torn down a long ti ago. Sunlight stread into the room through a large window, catching on the chairs and tables and cascading off the edges of them, and illuminating the whole place aureate aglow. The scent of coffee hovered strong in the air, a sharp tang that seed to suffuse the entire place.
It was… nice enough, he supposed. The aura of the place lacked the singular purpose of the library’s book-sorting room, but was all the stronger for it… relaxing, reminding, urging to greatness and despondently pooling all the sa, a thousand different parts mixing and mingling and playing against one another.
“I wasn’t expecting you here.” He blinked at the voice, for a mont dreading that Kaihe or Suzhong or worse, Yuxan, had managed to track him down, but— no. He cocked his head in confusion, taking in the sight of the small, well dressed man, not recognizing him in the slightest. “Ah. Of course… sorry. I realize now we’ve not spoken. I’m Instructor Kana Jie— I teach Aurelian Literature and Culture Studies.” That didn’t particularly clarify— “Avyr is in one of my classes.”
“I see.” Well, he knew the two history classes were where Avyr struggled the most, so it would probably behoove him to at least try to get a better understanding of the situation. “He hasn’t been any trouble, has he?” He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at Jie, daring him to say otherwise.
Jie just waved his hand, smiling obtusely— purposefully or not, Mingtian couldn’t quite tell. “No, of course not. I was worried a bit at the start— which of us wouldn’t be seeing sothing like that walk into their classes? But, no, I can assure you he’s been a model student. I heard that you were responsible for ensuring that he attended?”
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“In a sense,” he responded, guardedly—
“That’s good.” Mingtian blinked, but Jie just kept on— “it’s all too often that we let our own divisions hamper us. I won’t lie and say that Avyr’s differences aren’t bigger than most, but they’re not so insurmountable as to allow for the sort of attitude I see so of the other teachers tolerate against him.” A slight scowl settled onto his face, clearly not directed his way.
Mingtian had barely even considered that side of things. Avyr had been a dedicated student— possessing a drive to succeed that had been obvious from the first ti he’d t him. That, and… he frowned slightly. “It was unfair,” he supposed— what Guxi had tried to pull in hope of such short sighted gain.
Avyr was a delightful kid. It must have been such a relief for him, to finally find sowhere he could settle down after whatever had sent him running, so long ago.
“It is, isn’t it? I think it’s one of the great injustices of our age— they were one of our most important allies in the past war, you know? The cats of refuge had long been a bulwark— alongside Fenfeng, obviously— and the way they’re treated now that they’ve been either forced out of their own lands or enslaved…” Jie shook his head, frowning. “It’s just not right. It warms my heart that you think the sa, but even Avyr is a special case— most of the refugees weren’t even in Shedding. He was in an advantageous position from the start.”
“He’s co a long way since then.”
“I know! He barely knew anything about classical sect literature when it first stepped into my class, and now he’s in the upper echelons of the class.” Jie sighed wistfully. “It always makes happy, seeing my students really achieving, you know?”
Mingtian… didn’t. Standing to hide his frown, he made a show of pulling out a mug from one of the cupboards and filling it, tracing a rune along its ceramic surface and bidding it— warm. And it ward, and he steeped so of his tea in it, waiting until the aroma was just right before discarding the leaves before he sat back down.
Between them, he realized, in that mont of silence— there was a fundantal distinction. Jie well and truly cared for his students, each and every one of them and he… he did not, really. Most of them were beneath his notice. Lily and Avyr, he liked. Xinshi… he respected what he’d made of himself. The others… for the most part, he didn’t really care whether they failed or succeeded; he’d always intended not to teach another year, regardless.
They were simply… people within the sea of mortals, so many, so nurous… he took a long sip of his tea, savoring for a long mont the strength of its flavor. There was a lot that he could say, but finally, after thinking over things for a long while, he settled on— “thank you.” Jie stared at him, surprised— “for taking care of Avyr.” Mingtian was not a teacher. That, he knew… but Jie was, and not a bad one either.
Jie opened his mouth as if to respond— hesitated— then closed it, just sitting back in the pooling sun and basking in the long silence of it all.
Quiet..
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