“Wisdom is the ghost of curiosity. Some would say curiosity is cursed, contrary to the consistency that keeps our island stable,” she tilted her head, no longer smiling as shelooked at me. “You have a gift for it, something that is increasingly rare. Be careful who you share this gift with.” She reached out and patted my arm in an affectionate way, almost sentimental. “We enjoy more freedoms than most citizens but that does not mean we are protected against retaliation when we go too far. I would think you, especially, should not forget the population revolution. Be careful of the questions you ask, and who you ask them in front of.”
My attention sharpened.
She was right, curiosity was frowned upon more than choices, and I'd asked her a lot of curious questions today. Even if they had centered around the lesson. Her reminder of the population revolution was a not-so-subtle hint at my own past: records that should have been sealed. How much about Apostates did the instructors know?
I studied her in silence for a few moments. “Is it alright for me to ask you more questions?”
She let out a bark of a laugh, her bun bobbing up and down with the movement.
“Of course. Although, there will always be ways to ask the right question to the wrong person. Or the wrong one to the right person. My job is to teach, and an inquisitive nature is a rare and wonderful aid for instruction. You remind me of myself, when I was going through training.” Her eyes softened.
A feeling of relief warmed my smile. I found myself grudgingly respecting Instructor Garcien more after her thoughtful words. She had the air of someone older, or maybe she looked young for her age. My gaze snagged on the Skinscript visible on her arms. “What do those mean?”
She chuckled. “And that is exactly the type of question that could get you into trouble.” She shook her head. She pointed to one of two lower on her left arm, more pointed than the other. “This one means 'Magnetism', and this one,” she trailed herhand up to the other, “Means Acumen.”
Before I could ask her more about them, she started walking away from me. “I think that’s enough for one day,” she mused, guiding me back toward the trail and pointing back down the path toward the training exercises. “And we should be considerate of time, since there are many trainees who I haven't spoken with yet.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. I started back up the trail.
“Oh, and Lisia?” she called.
Looking over my shoulder, her eyes were steady dark pools, warm but unwavering as she considered me.
“Don't ever be afraid to bring your curiosity to me. I will answer your questions as best I can, and I will not repeat them. Or penalize you for asking them, no matter what you want to know.”
I dipped my chin, returning the secretive look she gave me.
It occurred to me as I walked back that no one had ever encouraged me to be curious before. In fact, my parents and several in the Reformatory had actively discouraged my knack for asking questions.
But wondering about things was in my nature, even if I wasn't particularly observant. It happened without me even thinking about it, and the questions that sparked had historically gotten me into trouble. Instructor Garcien had shared a kernel of erudition that stuck with me, more so than everything else she'd said. I should consider my present company, before I expressed any questions.
Contemplating what she'd said about failure, I tried applying it to my continued matches against Rosa when I got back. To my surprise, I had her in a choke hold in under an hour.
And of course, Zevrial's eyes were still tracking me more than anyone else in the clearing.
Delight curved my lips with my small victory and I returned the smug expression he had sent me earlier. He raised an eyebrow at me, and something shifted in his expression. I couldn't tell what.
I took great pleasure in removing my weighted vest, but I didn't allow myself to lounge the rest of the day away. I took breaks, trained more, and thought about Instructor Garcien's advice about the upcoming midterm.
Even though I had been among those who had managed to pass today's lesson, I wasn't physically ready yet for whatever the midterm might throw at me.
I did shuttle runs until my legs felt like pain-filled ropes, and then sit-ups ‘til my stomach threatened to rebel.
To my satisfaction, Zevrial looked as tired as I felt when I stopped training. He shot me an annoyed look, wiping sweat from his face. I sent back a saccharine smile.
I was drenched in perspiration and exhausted by the time we headed back.
So exhausted that I didn't notice that we had fewer people with us than when we'd set out that morning.
Chapter 12
Surface Tension
Veridiana tossed her wooden blade into the air, its end whistling in the air before she caught it by the handle as it came back down. For the fifth time.
It looked incredibly impressive. Also, reckless.
My attention strayed away from her performance.
