Chapter 30: Acclimation

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Ber, Day 25  of Melia, Solar Eclipse, Year 602

Not much is known of the Locked God. He has no understood visage and is depicted in temples as a blank cube. Mention is made of the Locked God in the Facerum. He appeals to those drawn to his mystery and secrecy. —Divines, a Primer

* * *

Evin cried for hours after Tadyath left her at Craestor.

Her new room was comfortable enough, but empty and quiet compared to her time at the Red Dove, which seemed always to hum with the energy of others on premises.

The registrar had informed them that though courses at the university generally carried through the whole year with no breaks, they were taking a holiday just now in honor of the impending solar eclipse and Emperor Beynon's summer celebration. The whole continent would be celebrating and making merry, and classes would not resume until the following Staos.

Unhappily, Evin accepted that she would lurk quietly about Craestor until she had somewhere to be. She sniffled tragically and sat up on her narrow bed. There was a window on one side of her room, and she got up to peer out. Below her, Craestor's grassy courtyard stretched from one side of the compound to the other. She'd noticed the construction during her first visit. A few people were walking about on the grounds, appearing small to her, like little dolls.

The university had been built in the shape of a hollow square, with a tower studding each corner. On the lawn inside were a few scattered trees and gardens, and she remembered that the open space was where most of the combat classes were held.

Her heart skipped a bit when she thought of that. Fighting—would she be good at it? Would she like it? She thought that she might. She would certainly try her best at everything set before her. Just because she was coming in with hefty financial assistance from the school and less formal training than others did not mean her work had to show it.

Evin wiped her damp face and attempted to breathe in through her tear-swollen nose, which whistled comically as she tried to force air through it. This opportunity that had been afforded her was precious. Not many young people without family—she loathed the word orphans and refused even to think it—were given the chance to attend a premier university with the empire's support. She counted herself very fortunate to have met Tadyath, and to have received the careful if unofficial training from Stacia at the Wheel and Well in the first place.

A cramp brought her out of her reverie, and she rubbed at her belly uncomfortably. Now? What horrible timing. Here she was alone in a strange new place with no friendly folks about, and her menses were starting?

She moved away from the window and back toward her bed, but when she started to sit back down, it started. She was bleeding. Her heart sank. It was slight for now, but with the promise the flow would be substantial later.

"Divines," she grumbled, rummaging in her bureau for a clean eborel cloth. "Womanhood is trench fodder."

Speaking of trenches—she sought the washroom, which was down the corridor a ways. There was no door, just an open archway and a sharp corner that concealed visitors from prying eyes.

Evin went in and looked around. They were the most clean and efficient facilities she'd ever seen. She was accustomed to chamber pots; this room was equipped with a polished wooden bench set into the stonework where people could sit and eliminate waste through the carved holes. It must travel through an unseen chute, she imagined. On the other side of the large room, a stone trench ran the length of the wall—with a conspicuous drain hole off to one side—and two iron pumps stood by like sentinels.

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