She sat in a room of walls made of thin glass that was fluffed and filled to the ceiling by plants.
It smelled mostly of lavender, as did Magi-mioa's perfumed lavender-dyed robes. It matched her straight lavender hair, which was tied up high in a ponytail.
The only other students at this time were a noble boy of ten from Timbana and a girl, not much older, who hadn't said where she was from.
The magi hadn't wanted them to know of each other's lands. It was to protect one another from making false statements about what they believed to be true.
They were only meant to learn of each other as they were now, in this time and in this place.
There were possibly other royals here, but of course, Salīa would never be privy to know.
These were the only two other disciples she shared classes with. And she never really got to see the faces of others during times in the meditation hall. Nor was she allowed to mingle with the others in the dining hall.
The magi always kept a strict eye out, so the only real time she got to have careless conversations was when she snuck over to the campers. It's not that the two other disciples weren't interesting, but only one of them ever spoke to her.
The boy. He was quite a short boy with a mostly shaved head, except for a small black piece that was tied back and spiked out.
He had large, pierced ears, slightly tan skin, and a deeply serious face. His brows were often furrowed, which made him almost seem harsher against the chubbiness of his cheeks and his inability to hold back when hearing a funny joke. And Salīa often had plenty for him as he did in return.
Yet he also had an unmistakable toughness and would often take great pride in it when Salīa offered to spar with him. It allowed them both to improve, but also gave him a chance to impress the girl disciple. Of course, he'd never admit such a thing, yet it wasn't hard to pick up with how much he stuttered around her.
The girl was less phased by things.
From the moment she walked in, she kept her nose up to the ceiling and couldn't even bother greeting them with even a nod.
She had thick black hair that was cut into a fringe and plaited loosely on both sides. Her eyes were always deeply intense and large, yet she never let anyone look at them too deeply. That voice of hers was quite soft yet prideful.
The only reason they came to know that is that, in their shared classes, she'd answer each magi, with the utmost bluntness, saying only what is necessary.
The boy fawned and wilted, always trying to joke with her or gift her something simple that he made, yet she mostly paid him no mind.
Unbeknownst to the boy, she didn't always reject him.
There were times when Salīa caught her staring at him when he wasn't looking, or how she'd tightly clench her fists when he was sparring, and glare at any of his opponents.
Salīa caught her a few times and just grinned when the girl realized, but then her face went sour, and she looked away, continuing as is.
This did make some of the more dragged-out lessons more amusing to Salīa throughout these months. Yet she couldn't care to be amused at this moment. She wanted to go home.
They sat on pillows with their parchment in front of a thick bush of roses, while Magi-mioa Lali began.
"Love," she smiled fervently. "What is it to you?"
This was a long, long lesson, and Salīa kept shaking her legs and biting her nails. The next lesson was to tend to the few animals that roamed these forests, especially springbok.
Like the magi-mi, and alongside the two others, she'd tend to their feeding, nurturing, and walking.
Some moons ago, she even helped with the birthing of one. As much as she enjoyed them, she found herself constantly peeking up, willing the sun to lower.
There were many lessons still, and by the elements class, all her nails had been chewed to the core. She had been so proud of herself, not doing so ever since she got her. Yet she couldn't take this.
The house of being that is patience has its opposite ruin, which is anger. And she was feeling quite angry right now.
This didn't seem fair, having to wait like this. Being unable to do as she needed. She thought the Faraway Forests were meant to free her, yet felt undeniably caged.
Yet what was there to do but go on?
Magi Ai would always teach her something new about the flow of air, water, earth, fire, and sometimes metals. This was blended in with her midday meditation as she would immerse herself with the element and would be tasked with interacting with them.
This was a class of fire and walking over stones. She had done well with it before, yet collapsed at the end of this walk, the burns eating at the dead skin of her coarse feet.
"Princess, you must rest. Your spirit is trying to escape your body."
"I thought I am spirit," she breathed hard.
"Yes, it is you trying to escape yourself," he said. "Why?"
She said nothing, feeling her rage boil hotter than her burns. The magi-mi bandaged her feet in something cooling, a blend of paste and earth fruit juice.
They had given her leave of her lessons, and so snuck into the dojo.
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