The sound of the ocean was a calming one. The rush of water against the grainy sand. The cresting of the waves as they reached their peak, creating white, foamy bubbles. Sea creatures bathed in the beautiful world that lived separate from that of the dry land.
Sadly, today was not a day to absorb such beauty.
I sat there on the edges of the shale cliffs and stared at the vast ocean far beyond the edge of the world. The sound that had me occupied was the crinkling of the parchment in my hands. I folded it and unfolded it, creased the edges and the bent them back the other way.
The entire piece was one large, crinkled mess, soft and bendable like a handkerchief. I didn't want to look at it. I couldn't look at it – not again. I had already read the words about two dozen times, and each time I felt a compounding frustration welling up inside of me.
This was it. It was my last hope. It was my last chance.
I felt my jaw aching from how many times I had clenched and unclenched those muscles. The frustration came in waves, much like the ocean, and crested into anger from time to time.
Why would those scholars lie to me?
Why would they give me false hope?
Were they just hoping to get me out to their university in hopes of courting me? Getting me to promise forever? To fall for them?
Ludicrous!
Stupid!
This was the most horrid, uncultured…
I crumpled the paper again into the tightest ball I could muster and raised it to chuck it off of the edge of the cliff when I heard it.
*Thud*
*Thud*
*Thud*
I closed my eyes and felt the vibrations of the earth, knowing that it was Steele walking along the edge of the coast. By the sound of it, he was probably wading through the water back up to shore. My shoulders slumped. The frustration and anger drained and dwindled into irritation once again. Steele had that effect on me.
When the thudding stopped and the sun eclipsed in front of me, I knew he was standing there, watching me with those insightful violet eyes of his. I opened my eyes and came face to face with the aging face of my adoptive Orion dad. He smelled of the deep ocean and there were droplets of water clinging to the strands of his hair. Bare chested and drenched with water from head to toe, he looked slightly out of breath, like he had just gone for a long swim.
"Good noon, Terrilyn. I did not expect to see you here on the cliffs," stated Steele. He reached up and brushed back the straggling hairs that hung in his eyes, using his fingers as a comb.
"Good noon, dad," I said, lacking his same enthusiasm. It was his natural awareness of me and my behaviors, having known me for so long, to know instantly that something was off about my demeanor. His eyes narrowed and he looked skeptical, reading all of my features and trying to discern what was the matter before asking a probing question.
His crow's feet by the corners of his eyes narrowed and he squinted and unsquinted his eyes to set me in better focus, part of his growing age undoubtedly, until those violet eyes flecked with unnamable colors fell onto the crumpled ball of parchment in my hands. Eyes widening, it was like he understood instantly what was bothering me.
"The university response is not good?" he asked. I shook my head and, once again, uncrumpled the parchment, revealing the inked words that I despised with every fiber of my being.
"Not in the slightest," I groaned as I began to read aloud in the most pompous voice I could muster.
"Dear Ms. Terrilyn Lun; Thank you for your correspondence and your interest in entering our esteemed university. Your list of qualifications and interests is certainly impressive and vast. Your home-grown education seems to have not left you wanting and has enabled you to become a well-spoken and well-read individual.
"The books you studied are some of the works we teach here at university. Also, your offer of educating our staff about the Orion and Orion culture and language is a generous one. Unfortunately, the administrative staff and the deans responsible for admissions believe you may be overqualified for our current educational program.
"While we appreciate your initiative and have heard great things about your character from your connection here at the university, we believe that it would be in your best interest to find a program that will challenge you and fulfill your educational desires. If you have any questions or would like to appeal the admissions process, please respond to this letter promptly and the admissions board will reevaluate their stance on your acceptance.
"Wishing you all the best in your endeavors, Dean of Department Admissions Joseph Eurelities Barumi of Riversun Valley University."
That seething frustration welled up inside me again and, once again, I crumpled the letter in my hand. Then, in frustration, I stood, turned on my heel, and chucked the heavy parchment as hard as I could behind me. It soared through the air and bounced in the thick undergrowth of wildflowers, vanishing from sight in a patch of black-eyed Susans.
I slumped to the ground, spinning once again to face Steele, and drew my knees up to my chest. My insides felt like they were a boiling pot, sizzling and overflowing but with nowhere to go. I could have screamed myself hoarse with how frustrated I was, but I decided it wouldn't solve anything.
Instead, I sat there and kept my knees to my chest and allowed myself to pout. The ocean breeze ruffled my hair, playing with a few strands of my hair so it looked like auburn ribbons, as I kept my body hunkered down.
It might have been childish, but pouting right now was making me feel better.
Steele, seeing this reaction, sighed and nodded a few times. He reached up a little distance away and set down several handfuls of what smelled like kelp and fish before crouching and washing his hands, scrubbing away the scent with the sand and water, before standing and resting his fingers on the ledge of the shale cliffs. Several stones plummeted to the ocean's side as he reached forward and pressed his fingertips into my shoes.
His fingers still stank of the ocean, but I kind of liked that fishy smell. Undoubtedly, Steele had gone diving for kelp for his afternoon meal and picked up a few of those larger fish to supplement his diet.
"Can you not… eh… koonyardo vi… appeal it? Request reconsideration?" asked Steele. His attempt at making me feel better was a thoughtful gesture, but not one that was feasible in this case.
"No. That is the point. That letter was my appeal, and that jag weed, Dean Joseph Eurelities Barumi, treated it like the first time I had written him. It could mean a lot of things really. It could mean he didn't even look at my application. It could mean that he looked and tried miserably to let me down easy. It could also mean that he considered it and is refusing to bend the rules because of my background," I spat. I moaned and, to help burn off the frustration, forced myself to my feet and began pacing back and forth across the shale stones vigorously.
"Do not be discouraged. There are other places," encouraged Steele, but that was where he was wrong.
"No, there's not," I snapped, instantly regretting the harshness of my tone. Shoulders slumping again, I looked over at him and bowed apologetically, making sure to apologize in my tongue and his. "I'm sorry. Gav rye-een. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I'm just… I am just frustrated and angry with all of them. I've done everything I can to get their attention, and none of them will give me the time of day.
"If I went there in person, perhaps they would reconsider; but, even then, they would only reconsider because they think I'm attractive or a good match for someone on the admissions board. They don't know me, and they obviously don't care because all of their letters pretty much say the exact same thing."
I didn't realize that I had shifted into speaking Steele's language entirely as I spurted off my thoughts. I had a habit of switching languages when I was feeling flustered and needed to convey something quickly to Steele.
Even though I was frustrated and even though I snapped at him, Steele's violet eyes still warmed with pride as I spoke his tongue with ease. I almost missed it because I was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated.
Short of going to these people directly and making a scene, I was at my rope's end of things I could do. I continued to pace vigorously, trying to work out my frustrations through my pacing. The wind, which usually comforted me, only continued to mat and tangle my hair as a large gust of wind caught my billowing shirt and bohemian styled britches which I sewed together last week.
"Have… you considered teaching here? In the Creewood?" asked Steele after a few minutes. I reached up and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my wrists.
"That… is… a possibility," I muttered. "I mean, I've considered it, but who would learn from me? And, on that note, I've been here my whole life. The point is to go and explore. I want to travel, Steele. I want to add something to this world. Living here in this small town for the rest of my life is not what I want."
There was a momentary pause before Steele spoke again. "Is there something so wrong about enjoying the life of a small town?" asked Steele. I bit my lip and felt a smidge of guilt come over me. This was all coming out all wrong.
"No," I muttered, looking up boldly into Steele's eyes. "But you asked me once what I wanted, and I want to learn. I want so many things. I don't want to just stand in line at the temple waiting to be hitched to some local boy who used to bully me and now suddenly realizes the error of his ways."
At this, Steele chuckled and nodded slowly. Obviously, he saw another root of my frustration.
"So, Jul asked again for your favor?" asked Steele in that knowing, fatherly tone he had mastered after years of being my dad. I moaned in frustration and scratched my scalp by the base of my neck.
My adoptive Orion dad was right. When I went into town earlier today, Jul approached me and struck up a conversation. The once pudgy faced thug who led the gang of tormenting boys had the nerve to talk about days gone by and how he was so horrible to me. He talked about how he just had "feelings" for me and wasn't sure at the time how to address it, so it came out in aggression and teasing.
What a load of nonsense.
I decided to not emasculate him right there in the town square, but a firm grip on my blade and a subtle first position stance as well as my frigid responses told him that I had not forgotten the past. Sure, I forgave him. I know kids to stupid stuff.
Still, I could not push aside the feelings that once ruled my loathing for that boy.
"Yes, he did; and you know where I stand on that, so let's not dredge that up," I said. Steele's thunderous chuckle sounded like rolling storms. When he recovered, he looked at me sympathetically.
"What about those other boys? Chep? Drenek? Korvem?" Name after name, Steele was able to rattle off boys who, when I was younger, showed their interest in me in one way or another. I considered each name and thought about how they made me feel.
"They're… nice," I mumbled. "I mean, they all have their good qualities. They didn't bully me like Jul did, so there's that. I just… don't find any of them interesting. They possess skills and respectable occupations. They have decent reputations in Creewood and with the nomads and caravan traders.
"It's just… I don't like any of them like that. I mean, I can't see them in any kind of romantic sense. I think they're only interested because I'm the 'old maid' of the town. Or, at least, I'm becoming the 'old maid' of the town and they realize their options are limited. I mean, let's face it. There are few eligible women in our age group who aren't already promised or otherwise engaged." I walked over and tapped on Steele's hand, and he rotated his wrist so I could climb up onto his palm and lay down against it.
The warmth of his skin against my back was soothing. I closed my eyes and used my senses to detect his pulse, which was calm and strong. I felt his muscles and tendons flex as he curled his fingers slightly around me as he lifted his palm. I sensed he changed positions from standing to sitting along the shale shelf based on the way he moved, but it wasn't confirmed until I opened my eyes and glanced up at the tree trunk sized fingers to my left and glimpsed the ocean between the gaps in his fingers.
"You know I have yet to meet any of them directly. Only the one, and he was only a friend who quivered like a leaf in a storm," stated Steele, gazing down at me thoughtfully. At this, I had to stifle a partial scoffing snort.
"You sound like my mom. I think she is starting to get antsy about me getting married. She doesn't want me to live all alone for the rest of my life," I stated. "I get it. I understand. I don't want to be alone forever either, but I don't want to surrender what I want just because of what others want or what is expected of me."
"And you don't have to," reassured Steele, his hand flexing under me again. "Terrilyn, you are free to live your life as you see fit. When the time comes and you want something, you will be able to achieve it. You are fierce and determined, and anything is possible. Do not lose heart now."
There was such truth in Steele's words that, despite the perceived failure of the day, I was inclined to believe him. I was capable of anything, as long as I set my mind to it.
This temporary hinderance wouldn't stop my overall goals of traveling and furthering my education. If not today, then one day soon.
I sat up and leaned against Steele's curled fingers.
"Bromidian, naperna," I smiled, which was his tongue for "thank you father." A look of overwhelmed memory and endearment swelled in Steele's violet eyes. I never used these words lightly, and when I did he always got this look in his eyes. Like he had done so many times before, he lifted the hand I was in toward his forehead and carefully leaned forward. I closed the distance, leaning up and spreading my arms as far as I could to embrace him as I pressed my forehead to his.
We stayed there for several minutes, completely unmoving and simply enjoying one another's company, before he lowered his hand back to his knee.
Now, of all times, was a good opportunity to ask him to tell stories of his land.
"Steele?" I asked. "Tell me about the schools in your home. About the libraries and the universities."
Steele smiled and, as I asked, began telling me about his world across the seemingly endless ocean. He told me about books that were as large and as thick as a house. Steele reminisced about how the universities were practically endless, so much so that he himself had gotten lost numerous times in its halls. He talked about lights that did not require oil and fields that made him feel like he was my size.
Steele talked of battles and councils, magic and mages and how rare it was to have these professions because someone needed to be born with arcane abilities. He talked about strategies he studied and art that seemed to span all the way to the sky.
I don't know when, but his stories wove together and pulled me into sleep where I dreamed his words into my mind. I saw buildings that touched the clouds and spiral stairs that led to libraries that seemed to extend beyond the horizon. I saw it all through my mind's eye and the imagination gifted to me by my mother.
When I woke, the wordless desire of seeing this place saturated my mind.
Perhaps, one day, I would see it.
Little did I know that such a day would come…