Natural Magic by barriesaxxy | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Matsias

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Even though he hadn't been to formal school since he was five, Mat had quickly gotten a feeling for his teachers' pacing, and he knew Mr. Connor had one more unit planned before the mid-year break. And though he should have been prepared for the topic, he was not.

"We have only one Major Continent group left to discuss before we move into more modern histories and how these groups have interacted," Mr. Connor said as the students took their seats, "And that's the Pelan." A chill ran down Mat's spine as an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. "As with the Huxoth, there are a lot of unsavory stories floating around about the Pelan people, which is why it's especially important we talk about them."

Mat stared at his desk. He lifted his eyes long enough to see that his teacher wasn't looking in his direction, but he nevertheless felt like someone was watching him.

He heard the sound of chalk on the board. "We're going to start with a KWL chart. What do we already know about the Pelan?"

Mat glanced up again. Mr. Connor's eyes swept the room as he waited for someone to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Mat saw a hand go up.

"Key?"

"They were originally nomadic. They rode the tusked soles, which are native to the mountains of Southern Feren. And they used sole wool to make fabric." Key spoke clearly and confidently, probably recalling information she'd learned while studying at the temple school with his father.

"Excellent, Key." Mr. Connor wrote these things on the chalkboard. "The tusked soles have become endangered, with people hunting them for their ivory, and the Pelan are the biggest voices in the fight to protect them now."

Another student raised their hand father off, and now that he knew the attention wouldn't fall on him, Matsias had the audacity to look.

"But I thought the Pelan made tools out of sole tusks. So... wouldn't they have been part of the reason they're endangered?"

Mat raised his eyebrows at Key, impressed at his classmates' knowledge.

Mr. Connor smiled. "Excellent question. Archaeologists have found evidence that some early Pelan travelers did make arrowheads and other tools from sole tusks. But surviving texts from the time indicate that this was not all Pelan, and that those who did it only harvested ivory from soles that had died of natural causes."

"They're matrilineal, like us," Matsias whispered to Key, "they're our animal kin."

Mat had seen pictures of soles in the temple. They looked like shaggy, humpless camels with two large tusks. As a child, he had traced those pictures and imagined finding a sole mate like the travelers of old.

Mr. Connor called on a third student. "I heard the Pelan are cannibals."

"And back to the cannibalism thing," Mat told Key. "that rumor didn't even start until a few hundred years ago." He spoke too loudly this time, and Mr. Connor did turn to him. Matsias went cold.

"The Pelan committed frequent crimes in Edych, until they were run out. The President of Ethion was kind enough to allow them in, despite their habits of dumping waste near their homes to spread disease. This is how the Southern Fever began." Mat's teacher paced in front of her Ethite class.

He bristled. Since he was only five, he hadn't lived through the pandemic, but he knew better. "That's not true! We don't dump waste outside our homes. The Book of Hospitality says..."

Slap! Before Matsias could finish his sentence, the teacher had clacked down the aisle in her heels and struck him across the face. "How dare you interrupt me."

"But you're mistaken." Matsias tried to be kind as he explained to his teacher. "Maybe because I'm Pelan, I know more about..."

Slap! She struck him again. "Maybe because you're Pelan, you know exactly what I'm talking about." She took his arm and jerked him to his feet. "Now apologize to the class for your lies."

Matsias couldn't see her face, so he glared defiantly at the grey veil that covered it. "The Pelan helped by..."

Slap. His lip trembled. He wasn't going to cry. "...making masks and bringing food to..."

"Stop." slap. "Lying." Slap. This one was backhanded, and he could feel the stone on her ring biting into his cheek. "Apologize."

Matsias tried to hold back his tears. As he opened his mouth again, he could see his teacher raising her hand again. He felt her fingernails as she tightened her grip on his arm. "I..." The grey veil was impassive before him. The first tears had reached the edge of his eyes. He blinked. "I'm sorry."

The teacher shook him by the arm. "So the whole class can hear you."

"I'm sorry." Matsias blinked. He was no longer at the Ethite school, but in another classroom. The whole class was staring at him, and his teacher had come closer, a confused look on his face. Key watched him from the seat next to him. His heart hammered in his chest.

"Mat?" his teacher said, "could you repeat what you said? In Shugbo?"

"I... I..." As he looked around the room, he focused on the students' uniforms. These were not the black and yellow uniforms of Ethite schools, but the orange and white of Faraday. He fingered the starfish insignia on his own shirt and realized he had spoken in Zhohu. His teacher looked confused because he hadn't understood. But what did he want Mat to say?

"The Pelan aren't..." his breath caught in his throat. He tried again. "The Pelan aren't cannibals. The Book of Hospitality forbids defiling a human body. The rumors are only a few hundred years old. They probably started after Pelan interactions with early Ethites, who were cannibals."

Mr. Connor turned to the rest of the class, a wide smile on his face. "Did everyone hear that? He looked back at Mat. "You're wrong though." Matsias tensed for a moment before his teacher explained. "Stories of Pelan cannibalism are unfounded. But they predate Pelan interactions with Ethite cannibals. Most likely, they began due to Pelan legal support for the Xurguwi to make jewelry from the bones of their dead."

Mat slumped in his chair as Mr. Connor began to talk about Tsia Xitano uniting the proto-Pelan tribes. He could still feel a slight tremor in his hands. Key reached out to squeeze one, and he pulled away. She knew what school had been like for him the year he had attended in Ethion. She would want to talk about it.

When the class reached an end, he packed up his things in silence. He knew Key would tell him no one had hit him here, but he didn't want that. He just wanted to leave the room. He jumped when he saw his teacher standing next to his desk.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Connor said, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

It took Matsias a moment to process what he had said. Mr. Connor must have figured this out because he repeated, more slowly this time, "are you all right?"

Matsias nodded. The teacher didn't look sure, but he also didn't block his exit.

Key followed behind him out the door, but before she could say anything, he told her he needed to get to class and fled.

He didn't go to lunch that afternoon. Instead, he found a quiet, grassy patch near the infirmary and settled himself on the ground, where he worked through Laura Pfieffer's travel journal. Reading calmed him, and he was so engrossed that he didn't notice time passing until someone was lightly kicking him. Mat looked up to see Charlie.

"You can go inside, you know." The older boy frowned. "You okay?"

"Just having a rough day." Mat could feel the tremor returning to his hands.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Though he expected Charlie to leave, Matsias realized he wanted the older boy to stay.

Fortunately, Charlie offered him a hand. "Why don't you come inside?" When Mat didn't move, he added, "at least come get a chair."

"But... I'm not working today."

"Doesn't mean you can't come in. I'm here every day. Jeez, freshmen." He rolled his eyes, but he was also smiling.

Mat let the older boy help him to his feet and followed him into the infirmary, where Charlie immediately set about brewing tea. They didn't say anything for several minutes, and then Charlie handed Mat a cup. "Here. It's an herbal blend that's meant to help..."

"Calm the nerves." Matsias finished Charlie's sentence for him. He recognized the smell instantly. It had never ocurred to him that they might have the same tea in the infirmary. "I have some in my room," he explained.

Charlie raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Matsias took a slow sip of the tea, testing the temperature, and Charlie to returned to work.

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