Searing 68, 121. The Greater Institute, Zaichaer
Gold had been elusive but after several weeks, careful saving, and some negotiations with the admissions office, Jane was finally able to enroll in a class at the Greater Institute. To once again walk its marble halls was refreshing and it was nice to see all of the familiar faces she had come to miss during her absence. She had only been gone for the better part of a season's time between Glade and Searing, but she already felt so behind, noticing that a few of her classmates had gone on to enroll in the College of Sciences. Regardless, she was grateful that she was able to afford even one class. Progress was progress after all, though she feared her mother might rescind permission to attend if her studies distracted from her “social obilgations”.
Not again, Jane promised herself. She was not about to let her mother, or her busy schedule, get in the way of her studies, though the fatigue from working two jobs fought against her. She was finding it difficult to sit through her Zoology class, often yawning and nodding off during lectures. It was not until they had a practical lab that she was able to stay alert.
The professor, an older Hytori man named Dr. Jhaeros Arajor, had a mischievous expression in his eyes as he brought what looked to be a thick glass jar covered by a dark cloth. He smirked as the students watched him come in and place the mysterious container on his desk.
“Now--”, he said, adjusting the dark covering, “Who has heard of the tuffted squealmouse?”
The majority of students raised their hands, Jane included. The class knew that they were going to be dissecting something that day, but the professor had kept it a mystery until now. The Hytori had a bad habit of surprising his students, saying it was to keep them prepared for anything, though most suspected that it was more that their reactions amused him.
He smirked as he examined his students, “Who hasn't? Annoying little pest, isn't it?”. With that he pulled off the cover, revealing a tufted squealmouse cowering against the side of the jar. As soon as it was exposed to light and saw the professor standing next to it, it opened its mouth absurdly wide, but its screams were muffled by the thick glass. Some students at the front laughed at this pitiful display and the professor only chuckled and turned a valve at the top. A whistling screech tore through the classroom and hands that had once been raised now flew to cover the ears of their owners.
“As you all know, or just discovered, the squealmouse is best known for it's terrific scream. Quite the defense mechanism, I'd say. It's painful for us but to predators with keener senses it's positively excruciating. I've seen plenty of squealmice drive off owls and cats with a well timed scream.”
The old man took out a small brown bottle and poured a modest amount onto a cloth. He then dropped it into the narrow opening of the jar, causing the squealmouse to let loose another scream before it slowly succumbed to the fumes. Unscrewing the jar from the its base, he began to prepare the tiny creature for dissection.
Jane took out a sheet of parchment paper and began to jot down notes as the professor adjusted a dragonshard powered lamp to illuminate a projector. He motioned to a couple assistants and they quickly drew the shades, dimming the classroom. The image of the pinned squealmouse was displayed on a large white canvas on the wall behind him. Very carefully he began to open the chest cavity of the mouse with delicate incisions, pulling back skin and muscle to reveal a shimmering red rib cage.
Using a pair of fine tweezers and scissors, he cut open the bone to show off a pair of lungs that seemed almost too big for it's body. A tiny heart beat furiously between them, still trembling with life. The professor delicately prodded the lungs as he spoke.
“Tremendous set of lungs. You'll notice that a rat's are hardly a half as big, despite both creatures being similar in size.”, He slipped a skillfully drawn diagram of a dissected rat's body cavity into frame for comparison. Jane wrote all of this down and attempted to draw a diagram of her own, but gave up halfway through. Art was never her forte.
The professor continued, “The vocal chords are incredibly well developed too, very thick. Hard, Almost like gristle.”
Using the scissors he began to snip away the throat, instructing as to how correctly remove organs from a specimen. He finally removed the throat and showed it off under the projector, instructing his students on how to document the organ, noting the size, texture, and any possible abnormalities.
“Here's something fun—”, he said, taking the squealmouse's dissected throat in his hands. He blew into it like a whistle, producing the very same scream they had heard before. Groans of disgust came up out of the crowd, followed by retching. Jane for her part struggled not to gag.
“Come now, don't be so squeamish! You're about to be dissecting your own squealmice after this! And I'll have you know that some people use squealmouse throats for whistles...though I do suppose they dry them first.”, he said, wiping his lips with a handkerchief.
Dr. Arajor's assistants raised the shades and began to distribute dissecting tools. Squealmice preserved in some strong smelling fluid were given to each student. They began to dissect the rodents, following the previous instructions and documenting their progress. Jane's specimen seemed rather unremarkable until she realized that it was pregnant. Very carefully, she sliced open the womb, amniotic fluid seeping out around a tightly clustered litter of fetuses. She silently celebrated her luck and recorded her findings.
“Excellent work everyone!”, the professor said, clapping his hands together as he walked around the tables, “As extra credit, let's see who can remove the eyes. You'll have two chances.”
The first eye burst under the point of ill-placed tweezers, leaking a jelly like fluid and leaving the socket sunken. Adjusting the angle of her instruments, she gingerly removed the other eye whole from the squealmouse's skull, pulling a white nerve along with it. It had been something of a labor and she realized that her classmates were struggling too. During this time the professor had taken to reading a large, old tome as he waited for the class to complete this task.
“Excellent! Now, who was able to remove both undamaged?”
A single, delicate hand shot up. It belonged to a girl with wild, curly blond hair that fell past her shoulders. Jane had known her from previous semesters; Her name was Chel Margarit, a military child who aspired to be a defense corp surgeon. It seemed as though her training was beginning to pay off. Chel cast a sardonic smirk at Jane in silent triumph and she frowned in return, turning back to her notes to distract herself.
“Was not an easy task, was it?”, he asked. The girl shrugged dismissively, inspecting her cuticles.
“For some perhaps”
Humility was not a virtue that Chel possessed, making her both a subject of admiration and resentment among her peers. Jane’s sentiments towards her fell somewhere between though leaned heavily towards the latter.
Dr. Arajor gave an amused chuckle, “For most, I can assure you. Especially without severing the optic nerve from the eye.”
The girl’s face fell and she leaned back in her chair, “You didn’t tell us not to.”
“I did not, but a delicate touch is necessary when collecting samples. That’s what separates a dissection from an extraction. No use in damaging specimens--or patients”., the old man said in a somewhat chiding tone. Chel lowered her gaze defensively, scratching the paper as she wrote with her quill.
The professor returned to his projector, adjusting a knob that magnified the image on the canvas. He focused as close as the mechanism could manage, bringing a small black eye with a white trailing nerve into view.
“If you look closely, you’ll see that the back of the eye is pearlescent, as is the nerve.”. He carefully turned the eye with a pair of tweezers, displaying the shimmering effect. This piqued the class’s curiosity.
“Most of you likely know that the squealmouse has superb night vision, but this goes beyond the natural capabilities of most rodents. The optic nerve and disk are actually very sensitive to aether and can detect ambient aetherium that exist in all matter—“.
Jane raised her hand and Dr. Arajor paused, addressing her, “Yes, Miss Farraway?”
She cleared her throat, “This trait—was it noted in squealmice pre-Sundering? Are there any apparent differences between squealmice who inhabit aether-dense areas and those that don’t”.
The professor raised his eyebrows, ”Ah, well, those are excellent questions, but not easy ones to answer, not at least in the time we have today. The records that we have from that time are esoteric and not wholly reliable, however, it’s generally thought that this traits and others like it are a response to the increased Aetherium in the environment. Squealmice have been noted to be one of the first animals to flee when Dread Mists appear, but they respond similarly to most natural phenomenon as well, so it’s difficult to say if they have a preternatural awareness of the Mists or not—“
He pulled a small glass vial out of his jacket pocket and held it up thoughtfully. It was filled with a thin, murky grey liquid that appeared to subtly shimmer. The class listened on with intrigue.
“As for differences—its said squealmice that live in aether dense regions have a better quality of night vision and are more sensitive to detecting aether. Some alchemists who use their eyes for potions swear by this, though most I've spoken to have found it negligible."
The sound of a chair abruptly scrapping against the floor snapped the class's attention to a stern young man wearing the uniform for the Riverland Corps. He was well-built but his face was smooth, obviously young, and he bore no insignia, likely still in training.
"Sir! I must object to such a substance being presented in class! This is Zoology, not Alchemy. Magic and magically related topics are not be discussed as a part of this curriculum, per the Institute's policy."
At once the class was shocked, some even outraged, at this apparent infraction. Dr. Arajor, however, looked as though he'd be offended if he weren't so baffled by his student's audacity.
“Young man, administration is well aware of my curriculum and has approved what I intend to teach this semester. The rule you quote relates to the instruction of magic. Showing you a potion will not teach the recipe nor how to create it.”
The young soldier swallowed hard, “What's the point of tempting us then?”
“If you are tempted then that sounds like a personal matter, not one to share with the class.”, Dr. Arajor said dismissively, putting the vial back in his jacket pocket. “If magic is your concern, this potion has actually helped the Order from relying too heavily on Semblancers in their investigations. You'll likely encounter it in your career as well—if you go on any night missions, that is.”
“Elf, I enrolled in this class to learn about fauna—not magical crafting”, The soldier quickly collected his materials and left the classroom, slamming the oaken doors behind him. A deathly silence followed and the rest of the students sat stunned.
“Unfortunately,”the old professor said, turning off the projector, “our world, even the mundane, is irreparably saturated with aether. This will become more apparent as we continue, so if you object as our friend did, feel free to leave. For those returning next class, read chapters 10 through 20 of Sir Amalays's essays and be prepared to discuss any of the topics therein.”
With that, class was dismissed. Jane left, shaking her head at the stubbornness of the young soldier, thought she still wondered how close her studies would take her to the precipice of the forbidden.
Gold had been elusive but after several weeks, careful saving, and some negotiations with the admissions office, Jane was finally able to enroll in a class at the Greater Institute. To once again walk its marble halls was refreshing and it was nice to see all of the familiar faces she had come to miss during her absence. She had only been gone for the better part of a season's time between Glade and Searing, but she already felt so behind, noticing that a few of her classmates had gone on to enroll in the College of Sciences. Regardless, she was grateful that she was able to afford even one class. Progress was progress after all, though she feared her mother might rescind permission to attend if her studies distracted from her “social obilgations”.
Not again, Jane promised herself. She was not about to let her mother, or her busy schedule, get in the way of her studies, though the fatigue from working two jobs fought against her. She was finding it difficult to sit through her Zoology class, often yawning and nodding off during lectures. It was not until they had a practical lab that she was able to stay alert.
The professor, an older Hytori man named Dr. Jhaeros Arajor, had a mischievous expression in his eyes as he brought what looked to be a thick glass jar covered by a dark cloth. He smirked as the students watched him come in and place the mysterious container on his desk.
“Now--”, he said, adjusting the dark covering, “Who has heard of the tuffted squealmouse?”
The majority of students raised their hands, Jane included. The class knew that they were going to be dissecting something that day, but the professor had kept it a mystery until now. The Hytori had a bad habit of surprising his students, saying it was to keep them prepared for anything, though most suspected that it was more that their reactions amused him.
He smirked as he examined his students, “Who hasn't? Annoying little pest, isn't it?”. With that he pulled off the cover, revealing a tufted squealmouse cowering against the side of the jar. As soon as it was exposed to light and saw the professor standing next to it, it opened its mouth absurdly wide, but its screams were muffled by the thick glass. Some students at the front laughed at this pitiful display and the professor only chuckled and turned a valve at the top. A whistling screech tore through the classroom and hands that had once been raised now flew to cover the ears of their owners.
“As you all know, or just discovered, the squealmouse is best known for it's terrific scream. Quite the defense mechanism, I'd say. It's painful for us but to predators with keener senses it's positively excruciating. I've seen plenty of squealmice drive off owls and cats with a well timed scream.”
The old man took out a small brown bottle and poured a modest amount onto a cloth. He then dropped it into the narrow opening of the jar, causing the squealmouse to let loose another scream before it slowly succumbed to the fumes. Unscrewing the jar from the its base, he began to prepare the tiny creature for dissection.
Jane took out a sheet of parchment paper and began to jot down notes as the professor adjusted a dragonshard powered lamp to illuminate a projector. He motioned to a couple assistants and they quickly drew the shades, dimming the classroom. The image of the pinned squealmouse was displayed on a large white canvas on the wall behind him. Very carefully he began to open the chest cavity of the mouse with delicate incisions, pulling back skin and muscle to reveal a shimmering red rib cage.
Using a pair of fine tweezers and scissors, he cut open the bone to show off a pair of lungs that seemed almost too big for it's body. A tiny heart beat furiously between them, still trembling with life. The professor delicately prodded the lungs as he spoke.
“Tremendous set of lungs. You'll notice that a rat's are hardly a half as big, despite both creatures being similar in size.”, He slipped a skillfully drawn diagram of a dissected rat's body cavity into frame for comparison. Jane wrote all of this down and attempted to draw a diagram of her own, but gave up halfway through. Art was never her forte.
The professor continued, “The vocal chords are incredibly well developed too, very thick. Hard, Almost like gristle.”
Using the scissors he began to snip away the throat, instructing as to how correctly remove organs from a specimen. He finally removed the throat and showed it off under the projector, instructing his students on how to document the organ, noting the size, texture, and any possible abnormalities.
“Here's something fun—”, he said, taking the squealmouse's dissected throat in his hands. He blew into it like a whistle, producing the very same scream they had heard before. Groans of disgust came up out of the crowd, followed by retching. Jane for her part struggled not to gag.
“Come now, don't be so squeamish! You're about to be dissecting your own squealmice after this! And I'll have you know that some people use squealmouse throats for whistles...though I do suppose they dry them first.”, he said, wiping his lips with a handkerchief.
Dr. Arajor's assistants raised the shades and began to distribute dissecting tools. Squealmice preserved in some strong smelling fluid were given to each student. They began to dissect the rodents, following the previous instructions and documenting their progress. Jane's specimen seemed rather unremarkable until she realized that it was pregnant. Very carefully, she sliced open the womb, amniotic fluid seeping out around a tightly clustered litter of fetuses. She silently celebrated her luck and recorded her findings.
“Excellent work everyone!”, the professor said, clapping his hands together as he walked around the tables, “As extra credit, let's see who can remove the eyes. You'll have two chances.”
The first eye burst under the point of ill-placed tweezers, leaking a jelly like fluid and leaving the socket sunken. Adjusting the angle of her instruments, she gingerly removed the other eye whole from the squealmouse's skull, pulling a white nerve along with it. It had been something of a labor and she realized that her classmates were struggling too. During this time the professor had taken to reading a large, old tome as he waited for the class to complete this task.
“Excellent! Now, who was able to remove both undamaged?”
A single, delicate hand shot up. It belonged to a girl with wild, curly blond hair that fell past her shoulders. Jane had known her from previous semesters; Her name was Chel Margarit, a military child who aspired to be a defense corp surgeon. It seemed as though her training was beginning to pay off. Chel cast a sardonic smirk at Jane in silent triumph and she frowned in return, turning back to her notes to distract herself.
“Was not an easy task, was it?”, he asked. The girl shrugged dismissively, inspecting her cuticles.
“For some perhaps”
Humility was not a virtue that Chel possessed, making her both a subject of admiration and resentment among her peers. Jane’s sentiments towards her fell somewhere between though leaned heavily towards the latter.
Dr. Arajor gave an amused chuckle, “For most, I can assure you. Especially without severing the optic nerve from the eye.”
The girl’s face fell and she leaned back in her chair, “You didn’t tell us not to.”
“I did not, but a delicate touch is necessary when collecting samples. That’s what separates a dissection from an extraction. No use in damaging specimens--or patients”., the old man said in a somewhat chiding tone. Chel lowered her gaze defensively, scratching the paper as she wrote with her quill.
The professor returned to his projector, adjusting a knob that magnified the image on the canvas. He focused as close as the mechanism could manage, bringing a small black eye with a white trailing nerve into view.
“If you look closely, you’ll see that the back of the eye is pearlescent, as is the nerve.”. He carefully turned the eye with a pair of tweezers, displaying the shimmering effect. This piqued the class’s curiosity.
“Most of you likely know that the squealmouse has superb night vision, but this goes beyond the natural capabilities of most rodents. The optic nerve and disk are actually very sensitive to aether and can detect ambient aetherium that exist in all matter—“.
Jane raised her hand and Dr. Arajor paused, addressing her, “Yes, Miss Farraway?”
She cleared her throat, “This trait—was it noted in squealmice pre-Sundering? Are there any apparent differences between squealmice who inhabit aether-dense areas and those that don’t”.
The professor raised his eyebrows, ”Ah, well, those are excellent questions, but not easy ones to answer, not at least in the time we have today. The records that we have from that time are esoteric and not wholly reliable, however, it’s generally thought that this traits and others like it are a response to the increased Aetherium in the environment. Squealmice have been noted to be one of the first animals to flee when Dread Mists appear, but they respond similarly to most natural phenomenon as well, so it’s difficult to say if they have a preternatural awareness of the Mists or not—“
He pulled a small glass vial out of his jacket pocket and held it up thoughtfully. It was filled with a thin, murky grey liquid that appeared to subtly shimmer. The class listened on with intrigue.
“As for differences—its said squealmice that live in aether dense regions have a better quality of night vision and are more sensitive to detecting aether. Some alchemists who use their eyes for potions swear by this, though most I've spoken to have found it negligible."
The sound of a chair abruptly scrapping against the floor snapped the class's attention to a stern young man wearing the uniform for the Riverland Corps. He was well-built but his face was smooth, obviously young, and he bore no insignia, likely still in training.
"Sir! I must object to such a substance being presented in class! This is Zoology, not Alchemy. Magic and magically related topics are not be discussed as a part of this curriculum, per the Institute's policy."
At once the class was shocked, some even outraged, at this apparent infraction. Dr. Arajor, however, looked as though he'd be offended if he weren't so baffled by his student's audacity.
“Young man, administration is well aware of my curriculum and has approved what I intend to teach this semester. The rule you quote relates to the instruction of magic. Showing you a potion will not teach the recipe nor how to create it.”
The young soldier swallowed hard, “What's the point of tempting us then?”
“If you are tempted then that sounds like a personal matter, not one to share with the class.”, Dr. Arajor said dismissively, putting the vial back in his jacket pocket. “If magic is your concern, this potion has actually helped the Order from relying too heavily on Semblancers in their investigations. You'll likely encounter it in your career as well—if you go on any night missions, that is.”
“Elf, I enrolled in this class to learn about fauna—not magical crafting”, The soldier quickly collected his materials and left the classroom, slamming the oaken doors behind him. A deathly silence followed and the rest of the students sat stunned.
“Unfortunately,”the old professor said, turning off the projector, “our world, even the mundane, is irreparably saturated with aether. This will become more apparent as we continue, so if you object as our friend did, feel free to leave. For those returning next class, read chapters 10 through 20 of Sir Amalays's essays and be prepared to discuss any of the topics therein.”
With that, class was dismissed. Jane left, shaking her head at the stubbornness of the young soldier, thought she still wondered how close her studies would take her to the precipice of the forbidden.
