Serial
2: Back to school
September
29th, 32 S.D. 10:27 Palostrol, Upper Vestel
By the time Mesel arrived in his designated classroom, there but remained a few minutes left until Master Eltin or perhaps one of his mentors would begin serialization exercises with them. Even so, the room was overflowing with talk when he entered. He glanced around wondering what could have set off such a commotion. This classroom was actually its own small building, but he’d heard their clamorous voices all the way outside.
Towards the center rear-end of the room, Aline sat there with her hands folded atop her lap, however, a cluster of other students crowded around her. She now wore her black garments like the rest of them, but since it was her first day, she’d yet to get a sash herself. Mesel was actually surprised to see her here, forgetting that class divisions were not always on the basis of the group’s relative progress and level but age as well. Their division was rather advanced for someone as new as she, yet many of the class’ students were roughly as old. Unfortunately, they were all still children and at times did not behave in the best of manners, as it happened then. In their fervor and curiosity, they surrounded the poor girl, probing her with question after question.
“Hey, Aline, which island did you come from? What’s it like?” one boy asked rapidly.
“Are you really from the Eastern Isles?”
“Hey, what was that you were wearing last night?”
“How’d you get here from there?”
“What kind of food do you eat?” another girl asked.
Aline looked about, unable to keep track of what was being asked from where. She opened her mouth to talk, but each time she did, only stammered, broken words fell out, incomplete ideas that made little sense.
“I... I-I am to... a-a far pla-place. We, live in... ah, I...” Never the matter that she was unable to respond to any of their inquiries, the cluster of students pressed on with their questions. Her voice was but meek and soft, no match for their collective loudness. To Mesel, he could clearly see her face flushing as she struggled to answer even one of them. It was evident that she didn’t speak Gandian all that well, and even if she could respond fast enough, the students would keep pelting her with more questions.
Mesel knew that - whether they had intended to or not - they were in effect pestering her in a most unwelcoming way. It was no manner to treat a new student, especially one just trying to adjust. He was on the verge of scolding the entire lot of them; however, even as he moved towards them, poised to say something, someone else actually beat him to it.
“This certainly does not appear to be the proper way we introduce our newest members to Palostrol, is it now?” Losha entered the classroom carrying several small folios in hand. She spoke loudly above even their crowd of voices yet revealed no signs of present anger. As her words began to reach their ears, they dropped into silence immediately in a mix of surprise, bewilderment, and sudden panic. Losha, as of late, had been teaching the older divisions, specifically for the students around Denze’s age. She rarely helped as a mentor to Mesel’s group, but everyone knew how uncompromising she could be about discipline. To say the least, it wasn’t worth testing her in any capacity. Even Mesel himself, who was closer to her than most other students, knew that acting up in her class was risky territory. Her words just then were a warning to settle down as well as a reprimand for their actions, albeit an uncharacteristically gentle rebuke. Perhaps she wanted to make a certain impression on Aline?
Whatever the case, everyone silently took a seat. Their desks were actually several long wooden tables that stretched about four students wide. There were six rows in all, stacked one behind the other. Mesel preferred to sit up front most of the time, and he saw no reason not to do so today. Despite her stern reputation, Losha was far from unanimated or uncheerful, and when it came to education, she became quite lively on the contrary.
“Good morning everyone. How are you all?” she asked, smiling, putting several papers on the small desk at the head of the room.
“Good morning Losha!” they all chorused, not actually answering the question of how they were.
“I know Master Eltin usually gives you your morning instructions, however, like yesterday, he is busy today unfortunately, and Rafela is mentoring another division today, so I will serve in that place.” Had Rafela subbed their class yesterday? Mesel didn’t know, as he’d sneaked out before class to play with Trisha... As a matter of fact, Mesel was positive that Losha herself was still unaware of yesterday’s little excursion.
He was presently regretting his choice to sit so close up front then, fearing that his secret might be revealed. He sure wasn’t going to incriminate himself, but one of his classmates might let some detail slip too casually, or perhaps Jillan would say something blatantly. For some reason or another, he always seemed to hold a grudge against Mesel, and such an opportunity as this all but begged exploitation. While Mesel’s mind sifted through its own paranoia, an unaware Losha proceeded with the day’s lesson.
“You all have a great many questions for Aline no doubt, however, I am sure you will learn about her in due time. I am also sure that she would like to know more about us as well, and it is only fair that we share just as much as she is willing to. We will reserve introductions until a bit later, however.” She extracted one sheet from the pile, examined it for a moment, then looked back up at the class.
“As it concerns new students, you are all aware of what today’s topic shall be then, correct?”
A staggered chorus of “Yes Losha,” responded.
“So stiff...” she commented with a small smile. “Digressing, we will cover the very elementary components of serialization, both to introduce the study of serialization to our newest member and to refresh your knowledge.” A few of the students snickered, pointing briefly to Hager, a boy who frequently forgot many of Eltin’s teachings. He looked around, mouthed the word “what” as he threw up his hands slightly.
“As we all are aware of, Master Eltin was the first person to establish the principles of serialization some 32 years ago. Before we continue, can anyone describe in their own words what serialization is?” Several hands silently rose into the air. Even though Losha did not mentor their group, she had nonetheless trained the names of the entire student body into her memory. With that, she could deftly and accurately call on any one of them.
“Yes, Velga,” Losha said, pointing to a girl in the second row.
“Serialization is the process by which one harnesses the power of the soul to perform a specific action.”
Losha nodded. “That is correct. Can you give me some examples of serialization, tasks that can be achieved with this art?”
Velga continued. “You could boil water, or lift a heavy object, or light up a dark room.”
“Very good. Those were all practical applications of serialization. However, can anyone exactly tell me what serialization cannot do?” This was a most curious question facing the class. They were all versed in the myriad ways they could use serialization, but they hadn’t ever precisely covered its limitations. Leave it to Losha to throw them a trick or two for even supposedly remedial studies. For a while, none dared to raise a hand. Bolvordio, however, ventured a guess after some time.
“Nothing?” he said.
“Not quite.”
“Anything permitted by the laws of nature, obviously,” Jillan said, assured of his own competency on the subject.
“I’m afraid neither of you is right, to an extent,” Losha said. A number of frowns appeared before her, as even some of the division’s brightest members were confused.
“Allow me to explain,” she began. “The study of serialization is in its infancy. That is to say, there is still much to learn about it. We do not yet know exactly what limits serialization might have, and all of the laws governing the nature of serialization are likewise yet discovered.”
Telal raised her hand and asked a question without waiting. “But... doesn’t Master Eltin know everything about serialization? I mean, he found it and all.”
Losha shook her head. “While Master Eltin certainly knows more than anyone else, there still remain many mysteries about the soul and how it can interact with this world. Many different techniques are still waiting to be developed, either by Master Eltin or perhaps some of his own students,” she said, pointing at all of them.
“Even though it is a rather young art, we have come to understand its basics quite thoroughly. Individual tasks or actions guided by serialization are called series. We call them this because they are actually a set order of what three processes, Randholt?”
“Aggregation, conversion, execution,” he responded slowly after a moment. He too was a relatively new student who had shown up some seven months ago.
“Correct. Aggregation refers to drawing out the raw form of energy the soul produces, what we call ‘seras’. The first step in performing a series is to gather the proper amount of seras. Next, we need to successfully convert seras into a more suitable form of energy, one that can more easily be manipulated, such as kinetic or electric energies. Closely related to this step is the final process, execution. In this stage, we need to control the output of conversion precisely to create the effect we are seeking.”
Losha set the paper she was holding down. “However, these are only abstract descriptions of a complicated process. There are many fine details factored into serialization that we have glanced over for the sake of brevity. I have not reviewed exactly how one goes about performing aggregation, how to perform conversion, or how one exhibits control over the end result. For our newest student, Aline, all of these idea may be hard to conceptualize right away. In that case, allow me to give you all a proper demonstration.”
Losha stepped away from the teacher’s desk and went over to one of several cabinets that lined the floor next to the eastern wall. A number of supplies were often stored in them, usually for practice in their serialization. Balls used in levitation, various utensils for bending and twisting, and a countless number of candles for lighting littered at least one of the cabinets. However, Losha passed this one and others up, instead heading over the the very last cabinet in the row. This one had a lock on it, and to the class’ knowledge it was seldom ever opened by Master Eltin, or at least none of the students had ever seen him open it in their presence. None of them, in fact, were even sure what exactly was kept inside it.
Being one of the master’s most trusted students, Losha apparently had access to its contents, for she drew a key and casually opened its small wooden door. Trying to crane their heads and bodies forward without scraping their chairs, the students all peered ahead, wondering what she could possibly be looking for as well as what lied within the cabinet. The door swung out towards them, however, and as such it perfectly blocked their view. Even those in the front row such as Mesel were enable to see inside. Losha spent but a few seconds rummaging around before she announced “here we are,” and retreated from the cabinet.
She closed and locked the unit with one hand while the other grasped an object they had never seen until now. It very much looked like a lamp of some sort, what with its broad, circular base that quickly molded into a slim, slender pole. The very top was fitted with an ovular glass bulb. Inside the glass sat a loop of coiled wire. In the middle of its shaft, a simple gauge was affixed, just a small, labeled circle with a rotating black needle. Losha carried this device over to her desk, planting it before the whole class.
“This is called...” She quickly referenced another page pulled from her folios. “Ah yes, Siersus calls this device a normalized serameter. With this I can show you all the three processes of serialization. The premise involves a series that simply generates heat at the base of the serameter. In a moment, you’ll see the results, but first allow me to perform the first step of aggregation.”
Grabbing the very bottom of the serameter with one hand, she held it there for several moments. Nothing happened for a while, yet soon her hand enveloped itself in a thick blue light. This radiance contoured her very hand as it brightly, steadily glowed on. To the current students who trained and exercised hundreds of series everyday, this was an ordinary phenomenon. Aline, however, had yet to familiarize herself with serialization, thus, even though she were soft-spoken by nature, she could not help but gasp at this sight.
“Sa,” Losha continued, momentarily lapsing into her native tongue. “The signs of aggregation can visually be confirmed by the presence of light. When seras concentrates into a particular location, the movement generates light that we can see. Seras is easily dispersed, hence aggregation is a continuous process for the duration of the series. At the moment, I am merely gathering seras around my hand, nothing more. The next step is to convert it into heat.”
She let go of the serameter and held her hand out to the side with her palm facing the ceiling. The glow continued, yet this time something more occurred. Wavy distortions curled through the air as vapors sweltered around her hand. In a radius of some 30 centimeters, an intense heat permeated from all sides of her hand.
“As you can observe, I am now transforming seras into raw heat, a form of kinetic energy. Note however that it has no direction, no aim. The only control I am using is in pushing the heat away from my hand fast enough so that I do not burn myself. Finally, we are ready to move on to execution.” She stopped the processes of conversion and aggregation shortly for a time as she touched the base of the serameter yet again.
“I suppose I should first tell you how this serameter works and exactly what you should expect to see. Inside the stem of the serameter, there is a coil that runs from the base to the bulb. Upon heating this coil, the gauge will move according to how much seras is used.”
Mesel raised his hand this time. He still couldn’t figure out exactly how a contraption of metal and glass could determine what the soul was doing. To him it just seemed utterly improbable that the soul of a living being could ever interface with a mere machine.
“But Losha, how does it know how much seras is being applied? It’s just a tube with a bulb stuck to it.” Losha sincerely frowned, but out of empathy, not anger.
“Poor Siersus would rather not have his inventions so belittled, Mesel. It is actually somewhat ingenious, if not cleverly simple. The gauge here is merely a modified thermometer.”
“Okay, I see,” Mesel said. “But where does that figure into things?”
“You will recall that seras is a form of energy, correct?” she asked, and in return he nodded affirmatively. “Imagine you want to perform a series to generate heat in a room, say one degree celsius more than its current temperature. The amount of heat needed to do so is a constant, known value. The amount of seras it takes to generate a specific amount of heat is also a constant, known value, therefore, the amount of seras it takes to raise the temperature of the room by one degree celsius is also constant. Whether you try it today, tomorrow, or while standing on your head, you expend the same amount of seras. Measure the temperature's change, and you can roughly measure the amount of seras you are using.” Across the room, a scattered set of “oh!”s were said. Losha smiled and nodded at their sudden realization.
“Now, I will perform a complete series using this device. The execution phase involves directing the focus of the heat at the base of the serameter.” She touched the base with her index as blue light once more spread, but this time only on the finger itself. Within seconds, the serameter’s bottom and parts of the lower stem began to glow too, bright red as if something inside were burning.
“Do not be alarmed,” she reassured them. “It will not melt at this temperature, and the stone pad underneath the base prevents things like this desk from catching fire.” They had to wait but an instant more to see the gauge move about half way. At this point as well, the coil inside the bulb began to glow red too. In fact, it was strong enough to work as a light source on its own. This alone would have impressed the class, but the serameter was actually not quite finished. The coil’s luminosity spontaneously changed from red to purple. Their voices collectively expressed a great deal of wonder at this feat.
“Whoa!”
“Did you see that?”
“Look, hey! It’s changing...”
“Shrieks, it’s purple now.”
“Um, Losha?” Taelor asked. “How did you do that?” Losha’s free hand dexterously shuffled through several loose sheets of paper as she searched for the necessary text.
“Forgive me. Siersus made this, and only recently. His notes, unfortunately, are not the clearest of things to read. At any rate, it looks like that coil is coated with a special chemical that reacts to temperature. By adjusting the amount of seras put into the series, I can change it from purple... to green... to yellow... to blue...” With each color, the serameter’s gauge further changed positions. By now, the students could no more keep to their seats. The second row leaned from side to side, and soon the third and forth rows stood up for a better view.
“Come now, gather around,” Losha beckoned. Quickly, amidst the scuttle and bustle of so many chairs, the class got up, swarming upon the desk at the front. They marveled at the serameter as Losha gently varied its colors back and forth. They huddled around her, gazing intently at the switching light.
“Who else would like to try?” she asked, only to hear several children exclaim their desire at once. “Alright, yes, Malkon, Fietzer, Jillan, Marcov...” she named off as best in order as she could. “Remember now, just use the basic series Master Eltin taught you: how to generate heat. Apply it here at the base.”
Under Losha’s instruction, they took turns lighting up the serameter. Although they were merely practicing the essentials of serialization, it were as if they now saw the art with fresh, curious eyes. Leave it to Losha to make them still feel that there were mysteries and unknown experiences left in even their most primitive of learnings. For Aline, however, she was indeed seeing such things for the very first time. She among all the other students crept and wiggled her way the closest to the table. From her lips come no word spoken, yet the glare of the serameter was all too evident in her eyes.
The class ended with a few more generalized discussions about the fundamentals of serialization, followed by class introductions for Aline, then dismissal. The popular buzz seemed to fade slightly from Aline to today’s lesson and partially lunch.
“Who knew Losha was such a vivid teacher?”
“Isn’t that obvious? She’ll be a master soon.”
“She still kinda makes me nervous, but that seratameter she showed us was amazing.”
“Serameter.”
“What I said!”
Messel was just about to join them as they left for the Training Grounds when Losha called out to him. Everyone else had since taken off, Aline included, thus they were spared a moment of privacy together.
“Yes?” Losha had just finished putting the serameter away in the cabinet; she now gathered her various loose sheets of paper from the desk.
“I need to speak with you for a moment,” she said. Mesel walked over to the desk and waited to hear her. “I would like you to - how to say this correctly - I want you to follow Aline around.”
“Like, stalk her?”
“No!” she responded, then sighed briefly, muttering something about her Gandian. “What I mean is, I want you to help her get used to Palostrol, the classes, her lessons, other students, and especially with serialization. I need you to stick by her for a while, just until she gets acclimated to everything here.”
“Acclimatiwhadda?”
“You know what I am trying to say,” Losha said, folding some of the folios back up again. “It is quite important. She is very shy and not yet comfortable with things here. Her Gandian is not the best at the moment either, so it is especially important that she have someone to consistently talk to.”
“Shrieks, if I spend too much time with her, everyone else will think we’re a hot item or something...” Mesel mumbled.
“Hot item?” Losha blinked. Even though she’d pretty much perfected Gandian as her second language, Losha still was no wiser to many of its slangs.
“It’s nothing,” he replied. “But why not one of the other girls? I’m sure she could relate to them better. They talk more than I do too.” Losha collected the last of her things and began to head towards the exit.
“Sa, shanidet akinov...” she said cryptically in Asten. “But, I cannot really let you off so easily for missing yesterday’s class.” With that and a knowing smile, she walked on out.
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