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The first thing Leina thought as she entered the room was How could Ava move with all these books around? The room was barely larger than her own had been, but it was stacked to the ceiling with books both thicker than the length of her head and scrolls, yellowed with age and tied with strips of what her father had called suede. She simply saw it as leather that felt like velvet in her hands. Even one of these books and scrolls could be sold for a year’s worth of meat for her family, but Leina had the feeling that Ava was far more concerned for the contents within these books than whether she would be able to eat.
Thankfully, or maybe not so, the books created a labyrinth-like path for her to tread, and she had to tread carefully; one slip and a stack of books would fall, possibly on her head, but inevitably when they fell a large puff of dust would reach her nose and she would have yet another sneezing fit, not the best way to present herself to Ava if she wanted to persuade her to become her teacher.
She finally reached Ava to find her sitting behind a small table and poring over a scroll with the scribbled words “Zoverfell... of the people...” the words “liberty” and “equality” circled and such words as “economic, justice, fraternity” scratched out. She was guided only by candlelight, and Leina wondered how she could see what she was writing, for she could barely make Ava out from her shadow. She was surrounded by a cave of books, some gathering dust like a veil, one book Ava had just grabbed having had its veil lifted, and the candlelight focused itself on the edge of Ava’s hand, where the scrunched-up veil of dust had stuck itself.
Leina took a breath and walked to the chair in front of the small table, asking Ava, “I know that it hasn’t been very long since I arrived here, and that you’re probably really busy and such, but I was hoping that...”
“Don’t equivocate, Leina. You must have a motive for meandering around my quarters, so go on, explain yourself.” Leina gulped; Ava certainly intimidated her, especially in this dark, cramped room where Ava would surely drive her eyesight away in a few years if she kept herself studying in here. Still, she had to ask her, lest she regret it for the rest of her life.
After taking a few breaths, Leina asked, “Ava, would you do me a great honor and teach me what you know, or at the very least some of it?” Leina shifted slightly, feeling as if she had proposed a marriage, feeling like Kipvin was telling her he couldn’t marry her all over again.
After a silence that Leina wanted to rip into pieces with the dagger she had in her pocket, Ava looked up, and catching her gaze, answered, “Are you willing to suffer?” It was a whisper, caught by her ears like her hands could catch mist. She took a step closer, making sure not to lean on any of Ava’s beloved stacks of books.
“Say it again, Ava, I couldn’t hear you.”
Her right hand twitching in the most minute of ways, she repeated, her voice quivering but a bit louder, “Are you willing to suffer for what you ask to learn?”
Leina had heard it this time; she had never heard Ava’s voice sound so vulnerable before, cracking like she was trying to stop herself from crying. She must have known that she sounded this way, for she cursed herself in a whisper and stiffened her body, placing it straight against the back of her chair while forcing her hands down her lap. Leina, seeing Ava’s actions, replied, “What do you mean, am I willing to suffer?”
Ava sighed in consternation. “People, men and women alike, will more often than not fail to understand you; as a result, they will fear you,” she responded, taking a breath, then adding, “and because of this fear they will hate you.” Leina couldn’t quite understand what Ava was saying; why would someone with the knowledge she so desperately craved be held with anything other than high regard?
She barely escaped the fog of her thoughts in time to hear Ava state, “Because they hate you, they will want to see you hurt, to see you get punished for daring to know more then them,” and all Leina could think was how hard this must have been for Ava to say all this in a way that she could comprehend, with words whose meanings even she could figure out. Then Leina looked up and saw that Ava’s eyes were glazed with caged tears, unwilling to escape, and before Ava could bring up her book to hide her face, Leina grabbed the edge and tipped it down. Leina saw Ava’s eyes widen like a deer’s before the arrow as she grabbed the sides of the book, snatching it away from Leina’s grasp, and growled, “You either answer my question or get out.”
“Yes, I am willing to suffer, are you happy now?!” Leina snapped, and Ava grabbed her book, placing it directly in front of her face and huddling her legs close to her chest. She looked so young, it disturbed Leina for a moment to remember that Ava was twelve years older than her, and tears began to run down her face of their own volition. Wiping the tears away, Leina said, far more softly, “You’re not scared of open spaces, are you, Ava? You say you’re.. a-gor-a-pho-tic, pho-bic, something along those lines, but I think you’re scared of people, aren’t you?”
And silence never revealed so much. After what seemed like an hour, Ava placed her book on the desk, her eyes beginning to narrow to their usual calm, and asked once more, “Why do you come to me as a supplicant, begging for mere kernels of truth?”
Leina could sense something in Ava’s words meant to incite her anger, embraced it and replied, “I do not come as a beggar. I can create a ball gown fit for a noblewoman in less than a week. I can figure out what things to buy, what to trade for, and how to get a deal fit for my family to survive day by day. I am smart in these things, yet I know that in the ways of the world I know little to nothing. I can’t string words together with such beauty like you can, nor do I understand the full meaning of the words you have written on the scroll on your desk. I know this about myself, and I want to fix that. I want to learn things so that I could understand what you say every once in a while, so I don’t feel shut out when you and Emrys talk to each other, so people won’t call me an imbecile anymore, so I won’t accept being called a dolt anymore, and I want to learn the ways of the world so I can, in my own small way, make it the littlest bit better.” And I want to learn enough to one day prove you wrong.
Ava closed her eyes, her mouth curving into a smile. “That was the answer I wanted, Leina,” and she grabbed five small books from philosophers whose names she did not know, saying, “I assume you know how to read, correct?”
“Yes, but not too well,” Leina replied, standing still as she watched the candle begin to flicker and burn more brightly.
“Good, now read these,” Ava said, shoving the dust-covered books into Leina’s hands, and grinning, “and let your education begin.”