• Closed • Live and Learn

[Faith Augustin]

3rd Vhalar, 716

Live as if you were to die today, learn as though you would live forever. She had read that somewhere in the many and numerous trips to the library that she had taken. It was good advice, she supposed, but really it was a little odd. Maybe, she thought as she clutched the book tighter around her chest and she scurried towards the street in mid-town, maybe it was said by someone very old. Or maybe it was propaganda by the libraries to make people borrow their books. But then, why did libraries want that? She had often wondered about it and considered that, if she owned all those books, she really wasn't sure that she would let people borrow them. Of course, the notion of her owning anything was ludicrious and the young woman smiled to herself as she turned the corner into the correct street.

Yes, this was it. Faith could not help but pick up the pace of her walking, which was bordering on running to begin with, nor could she hide the grin on her face. It wasn't the university, granted, but when faced with being told that she could not go to the University, Master had come up with the idea that he would get her a private tutor. She had been delighted with the concept of it, but she had not held out any hope. Until, of course, Master had come home, given her the piece of paper with the address on and told her that she had a private tutor. He had told her the place and he had given her the time. Now, here she was.

And here it was.

The house. It looked perfectly nice and reasonable, although nowhere near her own standards of clean and Faith could not help but smile as she realised that she was judging it on the muck under the windowsill. One would have to be approximately two arcs old and even then with short parents to even notice such, but she spotted it straight away. However, she lifted a hand and rapped on the door.

Assuming that her tutor was there, the woman who stood outside the door looked to be in her late teens to early twenties. She had pale skin and eyes such a pale blue that they were more or less grey. Her jet black hair was piled up in a deliberately messy style, so that it fell over her shoulders. She wore a black dress with a tight black corset, which had been all the rage last season in Rynmere and subtle make up which accentuated her good cheekbones and eyes. She carried with her a number of books which she clutched to her like treasures. More noticeable than those things though were the trappings of her slavery, both ornamental and far less so. She had an obvious (and obviously useless in terms of being useful) decorative slave collar which was a pretty silver torque from which hung a long silver lead mad of a delicate silver chain. That lead was currently attached to one matching bracelet, the other bracelet was worn but had no function other than to denote her status.

Those were the pretty bits.

On her right shoulder was an old, probably as old as her considering the age and stretching of the scar, slave brand. Another on her neck and then, on her left shoulder was a much newer brand, burned into her skin less than 40 trials ago. The brand of House Venora, a rose was clearly evident.

But assuming that the door was opened, she smiled a genuine and delighted beaming smile and dropped a well practiced curtsy "Good trial. I am Faith, my Master sent me here for tutelage. Are you expecting me?" she asked, looking like she was doing her best not to bounce on the balls of her feet.

Mostly, because she was.

[Padraig]

The realities of needing to earn a living were inconvenient. The time and effort required were better spent on pursuing his own goals and endeavors. Like attending the university and meeting people who mattered. But if he was to achieve those things, in addition to funding the more mundane necessities of life in Andaris; like eating, clothing himself, taxes; then work, apart from his own, was a necessary evil. Padraig could teach. He could share some of what he knew. But it would only seem worthwhile if his student had a quick and curious mind.

He didn't know enough about his prospective student to know for sure. The request he'd received had come from someone. A man who didn't require tutoring himself. And wealthy enough at least to provide the funding for learning above and beyond what was required of anyone else. A young woman, he gathered. A daughter? A wife? A lover? Padraig couldn't begin to guess but it didn't bode well. Parents, lovers and benefactors, even husbands often indulge their beloveds, or believed them to be more clever than they actually were. But it was work, it paid, and if he made the right impression, it might just earn him a beneficial connection.

The knock on the door came right on time. Maybe it came a little early. That was good. He was reasonably as timely in answering the summons. It was a small house, and not very far to the door. And as soon as Padraig saw her, and his gaze slid from her face to the rest of her, he made a handful of quick deductions. Pretty. And the collar and chain, however useless and ornamental but probably expensive...A slave? His features adopted a curious frown. It could only take an indulgent master of the highest degree, maybe an infatuated one, to spend good coin on educating a slave beyond practical necessity. Judging by the woman's, not exactly modest clothing, chances were, infatuation was a powerful motivator. He glanced at the brands again, which weren't difficult to see considering her relative lack of covering. Several of them. She'd been past around, apparently. But the rose in particular caught his eye. The house of Verona. Not bad. Not bad at all. He should be much more polite and accommodating, than not. And then she curtsied. He wasn't exactly schooled in the ways of societal etiquette. Was it customary for a slave to curtsy to anyone not her master? Padraig decided to err on the side of, well, not knowing any better and finding the act to be unnecessary. He didn't return the gesture.

She'd find him dressed simply. Brown trousers, brown boots, a white shirt, all slightly rumpled but clean like the rest of him. And his dark brown hair was trimmed a medium length, and a little unkempt. Eyes in shades of dark amber and brown, he seemed fairly young.

"I was expecting you. Now I am not." It might have been an attempt at humor, except that he didn't smile. "You're a slave," he said, stating the obvious, and he sounded somewhat surprised. But her enthusiasm and her apparent inability to light somewhere and be still, seemed promising, or maybe no. Seeming to remember himself, he added, "Good trial, Faith. I'm Padraig. Please, come in." He stepped back, clearing a way for her to come inside before shutting the door behind her. There wasn't much to see. A small house, compact, clean and neat, not much in the way of decoration besides a woven rug on the floor. But that, with the fire in the hearth, was a practical thing, and kept the cold outdoors where it belonged.

The only clutter was on the small table, where he'd placed a stack of crude paper, an ink well and pen. "You can put your books there," he said, gesturing to a spot in front of one of two chairs. It was the books that had caught his eye primarily, after the collar and his initial impressions of the rest of her. Were they borrowed? Hers? Surely not. But her masters? Books were expensive after all. "Would you care for a cup of tea before we start?" he asked politely. "My field of interest is the sciences. What books have you brought there and what does your master wish you to study exactly?" he asked. "And what is it that you're interested in learning?" To Padraig, that was the more interesting question. Did her wishes only align with her master's? Or were they her own?

[Faith Augustin]

The man who opened the door looked her up and down and a slight frown creased his brow. Faith stood, quite used to such an appraisal and she kept the slight smile on her face. He was dressed in a reasonable fashion although she thought he probably lived his life alone, since he looked to be somewhat dishevelled. Crumpled, even. But, he had to spend the moment in his examination of her and so he did. She watched him and she smiled. He did not seem to notice, or perhaps more accurately care, about her curtsy, but that was fine because, simply put, she did it out of duty, because she had to.

"Yes, sir, I am" she said, when he said that she was a slave. Just in case he liked the statement of the obvious, she replied further "You appear not to be. I'm glad we are clear. Thank you" she responded as he let her in. Small, relatively neat (especially if he lived alone). A rug on the floor, a fire in the fireplace and then, an instruction. "Of course, thank you" she said and put the books down on the table. Then, he asked her the most odd question and Faith looked at him with a slight furrow of her brow. "A cup of...? Shall I make it?" she wondered. Because he seemed to be offering her the cup of tea and that would mean that he made it for her. Faith realised that she could not remember that ever happening in her life. "I do not believe that a free man or woman has ever offered to make me a cup of tea, and I am somewhat uncomfortable with accepting it. But I am also thirsty and would very much like one" she explained with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. She certainly didn't seem in any way bothered by her slavery. If he wanted her to make the tea, she would. If not, she would shuffle slightly and, in essence, accept the tea with thanks, albeit awkward thanks.

However, when he asked about the books which she had brought with her, she beamed a genuine smile of delight. "I brought a book on mathematics, one on history and one on medicine as I was not sure what you would be teaching me. Master has expressed only that he would hate to own a stupid slave, he has not expressed a preference for what you would teach me. I work two jobs so that brings in money for him and I had hoped to attend the university. He was happy for that, but I am not allowed to" she explained and as much as she tried to hide it, she was irritated by that. "So, he sent me to you. He has not expressed any further preference than that"

But what would her preference be? "I would like to learn everything there is. One trial, maybe, to have read and understood every book in the library. I go there most trials, to exchange one book for another. But science? That is fascinating" her eyes shone with delight at the prospect. "Although, my basic education is lacking in some areas. I was born a slave and my owners taught me only what they deemed useful. I have been reading on mathematics and I believe I have grasped it. What sciences?" she asked, genuine fascination evident on her face.

Wishes, it seemed, were most certainly her own. She looked positively hungry to learn. Once again - it was because she was.

[Padraig]

Padraig for the most part was a serious young man. It could cause others to believe he had no sense of humor. He did. But it was a dry one. It was therefore rare that he grinned openly. He did a little anyway, only when he turned his back to allow her into the small house. Well at least she wasn't dull witted. It would have made the coming session more tedious if she had been.

The books remained a curious feature of her arrival, even after she put them down on the table. That, combined with her status as a slave. It wasn't exactly his first exposure to slavery. Growing up, a few of his grandfather's more well off neighbors had owned a couple or more. And the bakery he'd helped out in had owned one as well. But they'd been dullards, workhorses in upright bodies. And they certainly hadn't been able to read. But he was brought out of that reverie with a start when a perfectly reasonable act of hospitality sent her into a tailspin. He blinked back at the woman, a single eyebrow crept upwards, but his bland expression was otherwise unreadable. Did she want the tea or not? And why shouldn't he make the it? It was his home, and she was not his slave.

"A compromise then," he said dryly. "I will make the tea, and since you may be uncomfortable accepting it, the right of refusal remains yours." The water in the kettle was still hot. He'd only finished the trial's first meal, moments before she'd arrived. He turned away and poured, into a cup, over the bag, and returned to place the cup on the table. Along with a small bowl of sugar. "Sit," he said, and then remembering himself, added, "Please."

So. Math, history and medicine. A wide range of interests, and apparently her own. "It doesn't surprise me." In fact he would have expected that slaves were barred from attending any centers of higher learning. Even were they to possess the aptitude, those with an interest in continuing the practice of slavery and profiting from it, would naturally prefer to keep those in bondage as ignorant as possible. It was only logical, and from a certain perspective, good practice. If slaves began to realize they'd something useful between their ears and learned how to use it, they might begin to question their place in the world, and attempt to rise up. But if Faith's owner wanted to indulge her cravings for knowledge, and it paid, then who was Padraig to question it? "You want to learn everything?" he asked. "Everything, is quite a lot. It may take you some time." As for himself and his areas of interest. "Alchemy, chemistry, physics...And mathematics. I'll be attending the university, the school of sciences if they'll take me," he told her, "once I've earned the tuition."

Maybe then, mathematics was the best place to start. He could whip up a few potions, even poisons. But of medicine itself, he knew very little. "Mathematics, then," he said and pushed a sheet of crude paper across the table to her as he sat down, and after, it, the pen and inkwell. "If you can grasp the basic principles of mathematics, then you can begin to understand how the physical world is ordered. It's an abstract science in itself. Of number, quantity, and space. It may be studied alone, as pure mathematics, or it may be applied to other disciplines such as physics, chemistry, astronomy and so on. Applied mathematics," he explained.

But better to know where to start, in order to discover where they were going. "If you can add two and two together and come up with a reasonable answer, it is pure mathematics. But" he added, "if you are a baker, can measure your ingredients with some sort of precision, and understand what it is that causes the dough to rise, then you might consider yourself a chemist of sorts. Applied mathematics. You can reliably add two and two together, I imagine, since you work, earn and must keep some account of your wages. But beyond that?" Padraig asked, wanting to gain some insight into how far her understanding went, before they went any further.

[Faith Augustin]

10th Vhalar, 716

"That sounds suspiciously like you make me a cup of tea, you know" she said with a smile which was almost apologetic but equally just a little amused. What strange experiences she had since meeting people for the first time "But thank you, that is most kind". She, of course, sat as soon as the word had come from his mouth, so was already perched by the time he'd said please and she watched as he placed the cup on the table, her grey eyes most serious. "Thank you" she said, her voice quiet and more suited to a library than a house or social situation, just barely above a whisper when she spoke and so she always was.

"It surprises me" she replied, honestly "And seems to be a contradiction to the simple fact that a slave's worth is determined by their skills and knowledge. Having made such an investment, it makes sense to me to have places where one can increase the worth of one's investment. If you make any purchase you wish to get the most from it, be that a table or a house or a slave" she shrugged, it was what it was and that was it. Many slaves, of course, would not be sent to the University at all, but having bought something, why one would not be allowed to improve it in the way that one saw fit? "It takes the choice from the owner, after all. The slave had none to begin with"

But as the conversation moved on, Faith gave a grin "Well, yes. Quite some time indeed. Thankfully, I'm naturally patient" she explained. Unlike him, Faith seemed to smile quite a lot and humour was very readily apparent when she found something amusing, like the idea that she was patient with learning everything and that he was going to be attending the university. So, the fact that she was no allowed to attend meant that he would earn enough money that he could. Marvellous, she considered with a grin, the universe maintained and irony was rife.

She looked down at the parchment, though and started to write. Her handwriting was small and neat and she wrote keywords down, allowing her to listen to him. Mathematics was abstract but would allow her to understand the physical world? She frowned slightly, not quite understanding that - did that mean that the physical world was abstract, or that it could only be understood in abstractions? She stored the question away for later (she certainly wouldn't be interrupting him!) and continued to write, double underlining the words abstract and physical in order to remind her of her question later, connecting the two by a line.

"Well" she said, gathering her thoughts in response to his question "I am a chef and baker. It requires me to know about quantity and ratio, but I know it in a practical way. I can tell you that a good pastry requires three part flour to two parts butter, for example, but I would not know how to denote that here" she tapped the parchment. "Quantities, ratios, applying the same reduction or increase, proportionally, to a specific quantity, that is all something I do every trial. I also work as a seamstress" she said and chewed her lip for a moment, trying to think of how to explain it "So, measurement, obviously. But also the ability to make even pleats, in a skirt, which means that I have to have the angle just right and lined up in each of the five pieces. I know how to do it and can draw it, but I do not know which mathematical skill that is. I can make a pattern for one size fit an individual larger, smaller, taller or shorter whilst still falling in the place that it should, proportional to their body size. Other than that?" she considered carefully. "My previous owner was an undertaker and I used to make coffins and incense. So angles, measure, area, that kind of thing. My owners in Athart, who owned me from birth until the undertaker bought me, never really taught mathematics, so that is all, I am afraid" There were probably big gaps, she recognised, in her knowledge and she looked at him expectantly.

Once she had finished explaining what she knew she sipped the tea and smiled "It is the best cup of tea I have ever had made by a free person. Thank you" What a strange thing, she considered, to eat or drink something she had not made. The way that people lived was most unusual to her.

[Padraig]

Such reverence for a simple cup of tea, Padraig had thought, when he'd sat down opposite his student. Curious creature. She seemed at once eager to please, while on the other hand, unafraid of speaking her mind. "Contradiction? Maybe," he'd said when she maintained that slaves ought be allowed to attend university. "But for the sake of argument, consider this. Let's imagine that a particularly clever slave, like yourself, but also very unlike you...is allowed to attend university. While there, he excels in writing, in rhetoric...persuasion, among other things. And then, he comes to believe that he is more clever than his master, and so becomes dissatisfied with their arrangement. All he needs is a few others like him, the opportunity, and a good following of others who aren't as bright as him but are easily bent to his purpose." Then, he didn't say aloud, you've got yourself an uprising. "And so it might be that there are those who don't believe the benefits of a well educated slave, are worth the risks. You haven't come for debate or what ifs, however," Padraig reminded her. "But science."

He watched Faith write, observing her small and tidy penmanship, and noted the lines that must indicate there was something she was curious about. Abstract. Whether she asked aloud or not, Padraig would explain that Mathematics, taken on its own, might not be referred to as a science at all. Why? Because by itself, it did not answer any real world questions. But when applied to any given scenario, in Physics for example, Chemistry, Astronomy, Mathematics became a critical tool. The study of Mathematics might then be considered the gateway to the other sciences.

"Mathematics can resolve questions in the real world. But on it's own? It's just numbers and calculations on a page."

"You know quite a lot already," he told then, after she'd explained the many jobs she'd had, and what she'd done there. "You just haven't known what to call it. As a baker, you've dealt with ratios and proportions, percentages...algebra. As a seamstress and a maker of coffins...angles, area, measurements and distance, geometry." While he talked, he'd taken the pen from her and on a second sheet of paper, he'd been writing in rows. "You can choose to learn some of either or both. But in order to do that, you should show some proficiency for basic Mathematics."

He'd already gotten an impression of what she was capable of. So when Padraig slid the paper back across to her, she'd see that the problems he'd written out for her, were a little more challenging than two added to two. There were eight to ten problems for her to solve. Some of them, addition, comprised in vertical rows of two, three or four, some of those rows, two to three digits long. There were similar ones to test her ability to accurately subtract large numbers from even larger ones. And then there were several instances that would challenge her in multiplication or division. He suspected she was more than capable of it. But he wanted to be sure.

And while she toiled away, he had a question of his own, that had been on Padraig's mind since he'd opened his front door. "Maybe you can answer a question for me, since I've answered many of yours. I was not raised in Andaris, and have had very little exposure to slaves, or to expected social graces in a city like this. I understand that it may be expected for a slave to bow or curtsey to any freeborn? But what, ideally, might that freeborn do in response?" he asked. It might not matter here in his own home, just the two of them. But it had occurred to him that should the question arise again but in public, he'd prefer not to embarrass himself in the open.

[Faith Augustin]

10th Vhalar, 716

"Of course, my apologies" she replied quickly when he reminded her why she was here. It was true, she was wasting his time with philosophical discussions. In truth, the situation which he spoke of was one which she had heard often in relation to why slaves should not be educated. To her mind, it was very clear that the fault lay, in that circumstance, in the system of creating, capturing and training slaves. The training was what was key, no doubt, and the law which said that they could not be educated did so simply to mitigate against flaws in the training.

He explained about the abstract nature of mathematics and it's use and she nodded with a thoughtful frown "So the bridge between the abstract nature of mathematics and it's use in the physical and far from abstract world is it's application through other disciplines? I see. That is fascinating." she was very genuine in her words and she lowered her head to write carefully, annotating the link between the two carefully on her notes.

She looked at the problems he had put in front of her and turned her attention to them, pausing only to ask what particular symbols meant - it seemed that whilst she was able to divide, she did not recognise the notation for it, for example, but she lifted her head and looked at him in some surprise at his question. It was not the question itself which surprised her so much as the way that he worded it. Like she might not answer him or that she might do so because he had answered her question; when he said he did not really know about slaves he was not kidding. She considered for a brief trill before answering him, putting the pen down for a moment as she did. "It is not etiquette for a slave to curtsy to a freeborn man or woman. It is etiquette for them to do what their owner has commanded. My experience is that many people ignore me, some get angry at me for being a slave when they believe that slavery is wrong. Others have used their position to hurt me, especially when I was owned by the undertaker, who had instructed that I allow that. My current owner does not. And then there are those rare few" she smiled and gave him a slight shrug "Who look at me and see a human being. I found that hard at first, having been instructed that I was less than that for so long. But those people are rare enough that they make an impact. So there is no etiquette, most freefolk would ignore the curtsy of a slave as beneath their attention" as, indeed, he had. Which category that put him in she did not comment on and instead she pushed the parchment back over to him.

"I believe I have finished" she said and watched him with a twinkle of what seemed like mirth in her eyes and waited to see what he wanted her to do next.

[Padraig]

"Exactly," Padraig said, when she sought to clarify, for herself, what he'd said regarding mathematics, it's usefulness, and whether in any given case, it was to be considered abstract, pure or applied. "Mathematics in reality may be only considered a genuine science, when it is applied to another more complex one. But for all of those sciences, it remains a critical tool."

In spite of his earlier concerns, she was far from dull witted. She wasn't difficult to look at, but happily, she wasn't just fluff with nothing of use between the ears. In truth, it complicated his views on the practice of slavery. Not that he'd given them much thought before now. But she seemed more clever than many of the free borns he'd known. The difference was mostly in the trappings, and her apparent acceptance of them. The collar, the brands, the signs of bondage both inside and out. "You should go back a step. You've forgotten to carry the two to the next column there," he said, as he'd been watching her work away at the problems on paper. Multiplication, that one.

So it was not customary for a slave to curtsy, and yet she had when he'd opened the door to her. But maybe she'd misread his failure to respond to the gesture in any visible way. "My failure to respond was not for lack of noticing," he said. "But due to simple ignorance. Besides," he added, and he might have smiled slightly, but it was fleeting if he had. "I might look silly, was I to drop a curtsy in between."

Nonetheless when she was done he looked over her work, and only pointed out one small mistake near the end where she'd tackled a particularly challenging exercise in division. "You seem to have a good understanding of basic mathematics. Given that, for your lessons, would you prefer to explore geometry, or algebra?" he asked.

[Faith Augustin]

"Are there any other disciplines that is true for?" she wondered, thought creasing her brow "That they are abstract in nature but can apply to the physical world and, by doing so, shape other disciplines?" She could not think of any other discipline that was true for and yet it was a fascinating idea to her.

The frown of concentration deepened and changed into a frown of irritation, though, when she realised that he was right about the two. "I am used to holding them in my pocket, not writing them on paper" she sounded exasperated at herself, because she was. "It is harder to remember to write it. My apologies" She would have to get used to the idea of notating, writing and showing everything. Because holding two in her pocket whilst she worked out what she needed to work out was a common occurrence for her when needing to multiply, for example, but remembering to write it was not. As much as her logic seemed to work from the end point back, so too the gaps in her knowledge and skills were quite back to front. Such was the situation when one was a slave and reliant on the education, or not, provided by others.

Speaking of slavery, though, the conversation turned and he asked about the curtsy and his response to it. When he explained why he had not responded, Faith shook her head with a smile which was entirely genuine "It is of no consequence. I curtsy to freeborn because my owner has instructed me to. It is not uncommon, but it is not a requirement of all." She glanced at him, though, with a rather surprised expression on her face when he spoke of curtsying back. "Whilst I trust that you would not curtsy, it would not be appropriate for you to return the gesture in any way. If you had acknowledged the curtsy with a nod, or a raise of an eyebrow or even a glance, that would be considered more than enough. Most people consider slaves less than human. You would not bark back to a dog or whistle back to a kettle" If it was a sore spot for her, she hid it better than well, her demeanour was entirely relaxed. If anything, her only concern was that he did not embarrass himself by reacting to a slave as he would if a free person should curtsy.

But what branch? She grinned in a way that suggested he was offering her chocolate cake and more chocolate cake. "Either. Both." she considered, with a cheeky smile. She had meant exactly what she said when she had said that she was happy with learning, and content to do so. "Maybe we could have a rolling programme of three lessons of maths, three of chemistry or physics, that kind of thing? If you would consider it acceptable?" It certainly sounded intriguing to her. "And is there homework?" she wondered, and whilst she was doing her best to sound casual as she asked that, Faith was fooling no one and she knew it.

[Padraig]

Any other abstract disciplines? There was a question that gave Padraig pause. "I'm not sure," he said. The young man had no qualms about admitting there were things he simply didn't know. After all, if there weren't any, he would be planning on attending university. Though he reconsidered after thinking on it a moment. "We usually think of abstractions as being more related to things like...Art, for example rather than science? I don't mean the painting style or sculpting style, specifically. But knowing how to mix and prepare paint is surely a skill of its own. But it's just stirring colors together if its not then applied to creating a portrait."

"So," Padraig reasoned. "Consider chemistry. Good chemistry usually comes from reproducing and imitating, maybe even enhancing the effects of nature," he explained. "But to be considered abstract, it would then need to be practiced in a way that is oppositional to nature, in order to be considered abstract."

He'd been joking really, about the business of dropping a curtsy in response. Point taken however, but still he smiled slightly. "I maintain that I would appear equally as ridiculous, were I to curtsy under any circumstances, as if I barked to the dog, or whistled to the kettle. So math, chemistry, physics? "You really do want to learn it all, don't you? Fair enough, however, we can rotate your lessons. I think we've used our time for this trial. But," he added with a slight smile, "I get the impression that you want the homework?"

Very well then. He took the paper from her again and turned it over so he'd a clean place to work on. And there on the page he recorded a number of problems for her to practice on. Again, more complicated multiplication and division questions. But since she had her book, and could turn to it in order to familiarize herself with future lessons, he laid down a handful more problems for her. Diagrams, these. Angles, lines, circles with notations indicating degrees on angles and distances for lines, diameter and radius. And he'd leave her to fill in the blanks before their next meeting. Whether she was able to or not was not the test. The test was to see if she'd try. But ultimately their lesson was done, and he'd see her off before turning to the business of the rest of his trial.