Sometime in the Age of Dreams
"For the last time, focus on the pictograph." Lana rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against the headache that was threatening to overcome her. She and Sierra had been at the temple for most of the day, at the same table, staring at the same set of scrolls for what felt like an eon. So much time had past that the Scribes had already begun to dim the glove lights that hovered high above, the ceiling steadily turning translucent to show the red light of sunset fill the air.
Sierra, for her part, sat with her head on the desk, groaning softly as she knocked her forehead repeatedly on the wood. Her gold hair fell like waterfalls over the edge of the table, shinning with the fiery red of the evening rays.
"I told you, I CAN NOT understand it." Her words were muffled by the scroll her face was currently buried in, which made Lana move to rubbing her temples instead.
"You have spent the last three hours staring at the wall, complaining of being too hot, then too cold, and wandering off to 'get reference material'. If you spent half the energy you use to avoid the work on actually completing the assignment we would have finished yesterday."
Sierra merely grunted, not looking up from the desk. Lana felt a fuming anger well up within her, and she clenched her fists at her side, truly considering hitting the frustrating woman in the head with one of the scrolls that was stacked on the table beside her. Lana's hand was even reaching for one of the scrolls when Sierra finally looked up and sighed, running a hand through her golden locks with a frustrated expression.
"I just don't understand Lana. The pictographs are all different. No two mages make the same one, yet somehow I am supposed to interpret the inner meaning?" This question she directed at Lana, who quickly hid her hands behind her back, shuffling away from the pile of scrolls as she did.
"Pictographs, in and of themselves, have no meaning unless a mage gives them such." She said, moving closer to sit down next to her friend. Pulling the scroll closer to her Lana pointed at the pictograph drawn there, "This one is one of the basic pictographs found in the manipulation of abstract space. A version of this was utilized in the Rift Gates..." her voice grew soft, but Lana pushed on, "Yes, you are correct. No two mages draw the same pictograph, though over time pictographs have begun to take on a sort of standardization. Designs that are passed from person to person so that they usually resemble one another, if only in passing." Sierra looked as if she wanted to say something, but Lana held up a hand, "That said, they do not require a similar design to be read. We, as Scribes of the Gods do not read the pictograph, but rather the intent behind it."
The golden haired woman groaned and slammed her head back on the desk, and once more Lana rubbed the bridge of her nose. She really wasn't cut out for this. Her talents, if they could be called that, were better suited to individual work. Something she could do in the quiet of her own lab, away from others where she did not need to speak, or teach, anyone anything.
The sound of voices nearby made Lana look up, and she caught sight of a pair of boys walking through the stacks. One of the boys looked her way, and sneered. They were too far away to hear, but she could clearly see his lips move in a familiar pattern.
Soulless. Doll.
Lana watched as the boy's retreated, laughing and shoving as boys did. A part of her felt... discomfort. Soulless... that was what she was called, though Lana could not fathom why. She was sure she felt things as strongly as anyone else, and that she could be hurt as anyone could. Yet still that title had followed her. Soulless, lifeless. A doll without a will of her own. Not that she minded that last part much. She never really felt she had a particular reason for doing anything, and so was content to simply be told what to do and when.
When she looked back Sierra was staring at her, silver eyes deep like pools of moonlight. When their gazes met Sierra shifted, sliding closer to Lana and taking her hand with a smile.
"I really am not made for this sort of work. The concepts... they escape me. Maybe if you spoke in terms I could understand that would help?
Lana blinked, "I am willing to try if you wish. What did you have in mind?"
Sierra's eyes danced with amusement and she stood, pulling Lana to her feet, "Come, let me be your tutor for a while. If I can show you a bit of what I understand, maybe you can do the same for me."