6th Vhalar, 719
It was always nerve-wracking, Faith considered, as she looked at the books around her. She had to prepare the last of her arguments for her thesis in order to meet with the professors from the Institute of Science, where they would question her and clarify whether her thesis was accepted for her Licentiate. She had wanted this since the moment she had met Malcolm Krome in park in Andaris and he had told her about the university. A place, filled with people who wanted to learn? It had been a dream then, and when she had told Jamal of that, he had immediately beaten her and she had not been allowed food or sleep for two trials. That hadn't been the worst of it, though, he'd sent her to the University grounds, to speak to the people there, to find out what she was missing and to ask them about their lives, their studies. To know what she would never have, to see who she could never be.
There, she had met Tristan Venora. He had bought her, from Jamal, and he had introduced her to more kindness than she had believed possible. Of course, he'd asked at the University if his slave could attend and he was told no. So, he'd hired her a tutor and Faith had scampered to that tutor's house. Of course, he had been one Padraig Augustin and the rest, as they say, was history. From his first words to her, you're a slave she recalled with a wry smile, the two of them had fallen into the easy banter which still underpinned their relationship. And now, here she was, a married woman with three children and a professor - about to be chancellor - in a university. This trial, she was preparing for the final presentation of her thesis and sometimes, Faith could barely believe it.
Yet, it was true.
Her history, her academic history at least, had been about pushing boundaries. Diseases which were considered incurable and separating blood, putting blood into people, and then there was the plague-curing and the impact of ether and the Spark on the blood of mages. She had been studying this throughout the War and it had, now, all fallen into place in terms of the rest of her research. It was a part of her thesis now and Faith recognised the irony of the fact that her learning had been solidified by the most difficult experience of her life.
"Alright," she said, softly. "Time for a last read-through."
She would need to defend this, after all, when it was time to face the professors, the dean and the chancellor. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous because she was. But, Faith was more than used to dealing with emotions and, frankly, nervous was a walk in the park. So, she got on with what she had to do. She picked up her book, in which was her thesis, and Faith began to read.
There, she had met Tristan Venora. He had bought her, from Jamal, and he had introduced her to more kindness than she had believed possible. Of course, he'd asked at the University if his slave could attend and he was told no. So, he'd hired her a tutor and Faith had scampered to that tutor's house. Of course, he had been one Padraig Augustin and the rest, as they say, was history. From his first words to her, you're a slave she recalled with a wry smile, the two of them had fallen into the easy banter which still underpinned their relationship. And now, here she was, a married woman with three children and a professor - about to be chancellor - in a university. This trial, she was preparing for the final presentation of her thesis and sometimes, Faith could barely believe it.
Yet, it was true.
Her history, her academic history at least, had been about pushing boundaries. Diseases which were considered incurable and separating blood, putting blood into people, and then there was the plague-curing and the impact of ether and the Spark on the blood of mages. She had been studying this throughout the War and it had, now, all fallen into place in terms of the rest of her research. It was a part of her thesis now and Faith recognised the irony of the fact that her learning had been solidified by the most difficult experience of her life.
"Alright," she said, softly. "Time for a last read-through."
She would need to defend this, after all, when it was time to face the professors, the dean and the chancellor. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous because she was. But, Faith was more than used to dealing with emotions and, frankly, nervous was a walk in the park. So, she got on with what she had to do. She picked up her book, in which was her thesis, and Faith began to read.
