Inyanga's Star and Other Constellations

Circles Part 4 - Mingxia's Star

Those afternoons in the spring, the campus so serene and placid, began to turn into sparring matches in the tutorial rooms.

Mingxia's circle met in a conference space in ad-Dafira Hall, a small, intimate room for a dozen desks in a circle, with a sun roof open to the sky; a real one, not a link window, that allowed the afternoon sun to pass over the heads of students deep in debate. Each session, the circle of chair desks became a sparring ring within fifteen minutes.

Whenever Mingxia entered the ring, she still spoke meekly, like a timid mouse. "Some of the problems of creation may be unsolvable, yet we know that the stars speak to us, and listen. Not only did they teach us the schematics for the Star Dial, they transmitted the materials to construct it — to construct a single dial, to be controlled by Constellation, granting control over magic to the Solari Empire alone in the world. It seems intentional, which may imply that the stars, being sentient, act and react not according to natural laws the way physics and the sciences do, but according to choice or agency."

She would come back again and again to her previous debate with Storm Gloriam, like a thorn she couldn't get out of her flesh. 

"Perhaps the stars make decisions, for example how much to reveal to us, and when."

And some days Inyanga would come to her defence. They would take on Storm together. Her voice held no such timidity, particularly when butting heads. Leaning forward out of her chair desk, Inyanga would snap, "Listen, Novae Storm, no one's saying we should stop all research and experimentation. No one has argued any such thing. It is worth considering whether certain questions delve into the unknowable." A new emotion filled Mingxia's belly when she took her side. A swell of warmth at the tiny expression of allegiance.

Storm was always like, "But isn't it a waste of time? How is it worth considering? It's not like we're going to run experiments with the hypothesis, 'We can never know whether it's possible to know anything.'"

If Amafu were still in their circle, Mingxia imagined she would joke, "Why does the tutorial for Practical Spellcasting always descend into low level theory and, dare I say it, outright philosophy?"

Momentarily, Mingxia thought she would perhaps try to deliver the joke herself, attract some more allies, provoke some laughs — yet she feared her meek voice would be too quiet. The comedic effects Amafu created relied on good timing and bombastic vocals.

Most nights Mingxia lay awake worrying about every word she said that day. Had she sounded stupid? Had she said anything wrong? Stated any falsehoods like they were facts? Sounded disrespectful when critiquing anyone's ideas? Each statement, comment, postulate, she turned over in her mind. Thoughts racing, she often couldn't sleep. Yet eventually those thoughts turned to reasoning, and she followed the logic to conclude that she should be grateful to have an adversary like Storm.

She was speaking in tutorial consistently now. She should be grateful, even if her palms were sweaty and she thought her voice would shake if she didn't focus on puffing air into her lungs and pushing the sound from her diaphragm. Doctor Azikaze said even if it was scary, her sessions with Storm were an excellent execution of exposure therapy, and if she continued, her body would eventually learn there was nothing to be afraid of, there was no danger. Nothing could harm her, what people thought of her could not harm her. There was no danger to speaking in a circle of strangers who were almost becoming acquaintances. Her body would learn she was safe, nothing could harm her, eventually her body would learn, Doctor Azikaze assured her. At the end of the semester, Mingxia received XIV/XX on her participation, and, in all honesty, she had Storm to thank. She was up to four or five sentences per tutorial session.