Remembering The Past

Writers: Estelle, Francesca
Date Posted: 24th January 2025

Characters: Arrilon, Zahira
Description: Arrilon thinks back to the first time he interviewed Zahira.
Location: Harper Hall
Date: month 1, day 18 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Jayala

Arrilon walked towards Master Zahira's quarters, notes in his hands.
He had met with her several times over the past months to learn about
teaching at the Hall during the plagues. While she remained
intimidating, he liked to think they had developed a bit of a rapport.
Speaking with her was a nice change from classes or time in the
Archives. As he approached her door, he thought back to their first
meeting.

**Flashback**

Arrilon was nervous. He was as prepared as he could be, having
reviewed his notes and written and organized his questions. However,
he wasn't sure what to expect. And Zahira wasn't just anyone. She was
a Master, and Jayala's grandmother. Doing his best to ignore his
nerves, he arrived at her door at the agreed upon time and knocked.

"Come in!" The voice was an elderly woman's, but still clear and strong,
the legacy of Harper training.

The retired master's quarters were comfortably furnished and well lit,
with brightly colored rugs on the floor. In brackets on the walls, in
place of other decorations, were musical instruments - a gitar, a violin
and drums of different sizes. In one corner stood an empty music stand,
perhaps to be used by a student - or victim, given her reputation.

Despite what the other harpers had said, Master Zahira didn't look
particularly fearsome. She was seated in a chair between the window and
a low shelf stocked with neatly bound books. Her hair was white, but it
was still long, thick and neatly braided, and her eyes were bright in a
deeply lined face. Her posture was only slightly stooped with age, and
the resemblance to her granddaughter was clear in her sharp, elegant
features. An unrolled hide lay open on her lap, revealing a musical
score. Her fingers might no longer the strength or the agility they had
once, but Turns of practice had left her able to 'hear' the music in her
head with great clarity.

"You must be Journeyman Arrilon." She rolled up the score and used it to
gesture to a chair. "Sit down, sit down. I don't bite."

"It's nice to meet you Master Zahira. Thanks for speaking with me."
Arrilon took a seat at a chair facing her, papers in his lap. He
launched into an explanation of his research project on the effect of
the plagues on teaching practices at the Hall. "I honestly haven't
been about to find much in the Archives; just a few brief comments.
Since you lived through the Plagues, I'd be interested to hear what
you remember." He gestured to the list in his lap. "I have some
questions..."

"Of course. Most young people don't care about those times, and even
some of the older ones would rather forget. Hardly surprising giving
their shameful treatment of the journeywomen and female apprentices
after the plagues." There was a sharp note in Zahira's voice. Clearly
the memory still rankled, even after so many Turns had passed. "Well, if
I'm going to remember what happened back then, I'll need some tea." She
pointed to a pot on the hearth. "We both will."

Arrilon was happy to have an excuse to do something, since he was not
sure how to respond to her comments. He stood and approached the
hearth. To the left of it was a small table with delicate-looking
teacups, several containers with tea leaves, and sweetener. "What kind
of tea do you want?" He was not much of a tea drinker, but did not
want to give her any reason to have a bad first impression of him.

"The jar with the blue lid, I think. The herbs are supposed to have
calming properties." Zahira had not noticed any such effect on herself,
but perhaps the young journeyman would appreciate it. She waited while
the tea was prepared, gathering her thoughts. When he brought over the
cup, she breathed in the aroma and sighed. "Ah, thank you. All right,
let's get started. What did you want to ask me about?"

The Journeyman took a sip, even though he was not really a tea
drinker. It burned as it went down his throat. At her question, he set
the cup down and looked back at his notes. He had thought a lot about
the first question. He did not want to ask anything too personal at
the start, but also wanted a targeted question that hopefully sparked
a memory. "Can you talk a little about what classroom behavior was
like when teaching apprentices, especially junior apprentices, before
the plagues? I was able to find some old records from Master of
Apprentices and, from what I could guess by looking at names, male and
female apprentices were disciplined similar amounts, and for similar
reasons. Not much detail was provided though." While there were
exceptions, his recent experience in the classroom showed that female
apprentices tended to be reluctant to speak up and classroom behavior
issues were almost always caused by male apprentices. He wondered if
this was very different in the past.

"Well, there were the usual misdeeds. Fidgeting and chattering in class,
silly pranks, not doing assignments. Even back then, I'd say the girls
were a little more diligent and mature, but they certainly weren't
exempt from mischief. Or perhaps they were just better at not getting
caught," Zahira mused. Her expression didn't change, but there was a
glint in her eyes that wasn't far from mischievous itself. "Those types
of behavior wouldn't usually have been serious enough to be recorded,
though. That's the drawback of relying on records. Only really bad
behavior - cheating, bullying, damaging Hall property - would get as far
as the Master of Apprentices, and I'd say that was about equal between
girls and boys. The Hall was a competitive place, and there was ambition
and jealousy even among the apprentices."

Her eyes unfocused as she thought back to those times. "I remember one
incident in the choir, a group of girls targeting a new apprentice - it
was over a solo for the Turn's End concert, as I recall. The ringleader
was sent home in the end. And all for nothing. It was only a few months
before the first cases of illness were reported... None of them ended up
singing that solo." She shook her head. "That was one of the worst,
though. Mostly, anything of that nature was dealt with before it got out
of hand."

Arrilon diligently took notes as she spoke, glad he was a fast writer.
He would be able to analyze everything more fully when he was back in
his room. For now, he did his best to pay attention enough to think of
what to ask next. "It doesn't sound too different from now." After
all, people were people, and apprentices were apprentices.

"What did you do when everyone started getting sick?" Then, worried
the question was too personal, he quickly added, "If you don't mind
sharing?"

"No, that's all right. It should be remembered." Zahira was silent for a
moment, gathering her thoughts. "At first there were only a few cases. A
journeyman who'd just returned from his assignment, and a couple of
apprentices. The healer moved them to a separate room when we got more
news from his Hall, but by then it was too late. A few days later, the
Hallmaster suspended all postings and classes, and closed the Hall to
visitors, so we stayed put. People mostly kept to their own quarters,
and only came to the dining hall to collect their meals. The apprentice
dormitories were all but empty, they'd been sent home, or they were in
the infirmary. The only ones left either had family here, or they had
nowhere else to go. It was quiet... It had never been quiet in the
Harper Hall before."

She looked down at the fragile teacup in her hands, now veined and
age-spotted, but still strong. "Perhaps that's enough for today. But if
you wish, you may return and ask more questions."

"Of course." Arrilon's hand was tired, so he was glad they were
stopping. "Thank you for sharing." Her words had made the past come
alive in a way the records he had found in the Archives hadn't.

**End Flashback**

Ready for another conversation, Arrilon smiled and knocked on her door.

Last updated on the February 11th 2025

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Remembering The Past