“Professor Venna? Do you have a moment?”
Scipirre Venna looked up from his notes, smiling as he beckoned the shy student into his cramped office. Still a young man, he was freshly tenured at the University of Calastore - larger spaces were for the more established. The student picked her way around stacks of books nearly as tall as she was, overflowing off the shelves in piles that may have simply been left that way since unpacking.
“Certainly I do. Ah, I recognize you, from my Intro to Religious Studies class, correct?”
The first-year student nodded enthusiastically, happy this would be a less awkward interaction than she’d feared. “Yes, sir. My name is Lia. I just wanted to say, I’m really looking forward to your class this term.”
“Is that so?” Scipirre raised an eyebrow to go with his soft grin. “I’m glad to hear that, though of course today was only our second lecture. We have a lot of history to get through yet.”
“I know! I just… I was raised in the church, but it seemed I always had more questions for the priests than they cared to answer. Or knew the answers to, even? The gods compel us to learn from our past, but… It doesn’t seem like others are as interested in learning the origins of our faith in them.”
“Most aren’t. The Intertwined are here for us, as they always have been and will be. For many, that’s enough. What about for you, Lia?”
Lia pondered for a moment. “I believe our faith can be made stronger by knowing why we worship as we do, and how our world came to be as it is. The gods teach us to pursue these things, in their name and in our own.”
“Well said! Well said.” Scipirre waved a hand enthusiastically as he stood, a gesture of approval. “An impressive take for one so young. And fear not: while others from your upbringing may not have shared your curiosity, the field thrives in academia. And indeed, the church as well - they fund a great deal of my research here in the capital. Now, see here…”
The professor bounded the short distance over to one of his bookshelves, framing the only window in the office. His fingers paced the spines of his well-worn collection, before finding the particular tome he needed. Pulling it from the shelf, he flipped it open out of habit, scanning the familiar pages as he continued.
“Best we don’t get too far ahead of the syllabus, Lia. But, curiosity is rewarded in my classroom. This book here is an excellent read - as dry as you’d expect, but packed with so much of interest that it’ll keep you going. It’s a classic, from Janidi Miracevic, on the origins of the sevarotta and the positions’ prominence in government during the fourth cycle. I think you’ll find the perspective will balance with our early coursework beautifully.”
Scipirre snapped the book shut and extended it to Lia. As he raised his gaze, now standing in front of her without a desk between them, he saw she was clutching a book of her own. Though she held it close with both arms, enough of the cover was visible for him to recognize it immediately.
“But, I see you already have a book of your own, haven’t you.”
Lia started, looking down as though she’d forgotten she was even holding it. She quickly put it to hand, staring at the cover while deciding what to say.
“Oh! Yes, well I… It’s your book, isn’t it. Well, kind of. I know you didn’t… Um. I just thought…”
Placing his own book gently onto what little free space remained on the desk, Scipirre returned to the other side and sat down. He was still smiling, but his expression was muted. Pained, somehow.
“Would you like me to sign it for you, Lia? Many of your peers have come to ask.”
“What!? No, no absolutely not. That’s not why I… That’s not why I brought it.” Lia was deeply embarrassed, shuffling as she stood, but she did not retreat. “When I signed up for your class, I told my parents. They recognized your name, and said some things that sounded… They didn’t sound fair. So I bought…”
“You bought that thing?”
“Yes, I did. I bought a copy of your published… journal. From the expedition. And I…”
Scipirre gestured again, over to a box in the corner. It had been opened, but clearly not touched since.
“The publishing house sent me a box of them last year. I’d gladly be rid of the copies, shame I couldn’t have saved you the expense. Please, if anyone you know wants one of the accursed things, get it freely from me. So, why have you brought it here?”
“I know you didn’t publish it yourself. I know it wasn’t your intent… Or else, I know you didn’t consider what might happen after…”
“Now now, it’s quite alright.” The professor’s tone softened somewhat, perhaps remembering who he was speaking to. “So, what questions do you have?”
“First, I want to express my condolences for your lost companions. I know it was nearly five years ago. I just… I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” began Scipirre. “Though we can’t have known what we might encounter, they understood the potential risks as well as I did. Whatever happened to them…”
“Whatever happened?” Now it was Lia’s turn to interrupt. “But, they died, didn’t they? Killed by the monster you talked about in your journal.”
The professor took a deep breath. “The words in that journal, and the things you hear, and that damnable foreword by Levarson… That perspective may as well not be mine. I cannot remember any of what transpired. Please, know what they say is true, there.”
Lia looked down at the book, now again somewhat unsure. “I know you don’t remember what happened there, beneath Dolviano. I don’t mean to pry. It was just… So incredible. Your goal of delving into history, literally deeper than anyone before. Not even Hanero, below where we stand now. The idea that our psalms might not just be stories of worship, but literal accounts of what happened… Of the founding of Ithero… It’s inspiring.”
“Is that so? Does the service call you?”
“It… It might,” Lia decided, with greater firmness than she expected. “The wisdom of the Intertwined is absolute, and I want to better know it. If only we had the context for some of their earliest teachings.”
“I cannot disagree with you there, Lia.” Scipirre sighed, and settled back into his chair. “That is, or maybe was, my driving ambition. The lessons of the gods educate in ways that are all too compatible with our own mortal disciplines.”
“Then we should go back down there! With the knowledge we now have, we could surely return. We could find those deepest places, beneath the great cities of Ithero. Where the ships lie, just like in Dolviano. I know the way is closed there now, but we could find new pathways, like you did. We could find the Flotilla, even the Ithero we had to leave behind. We could find…”
Scipirre suddenly took a sharper tone, looking Lia squarely in the eye as he sat up straight. “Our history here is enough, Lia. Our answers all surely lie in the history of this Ithero, not anything before. If you have read that book, you’ll understand.”
“I do! But I think that the opportunity is too great. I haven’t seen as much of the world as you have, surely. I haven’t suffered the same… experience. But I think that if I pursue my studies, perhaps I could join the clergy as a researcher! I could go on my own expeditions, and pick up where you left off. Maybe I could delve beneath Remiliciggio, like you’d thought to. Oh, how I would love to see…”
The professor was standing now, out of his chair so quickly that Lia barely realized. There was a strange glint in his eye, and a look had come over him - unnatural almost, like a man possessed. He looked at his student, but through her at the same time, transfixed by something that was not there.
“We will not return. We must not return, do you understand? The Ithero of today is our birthright, and we may learn all we can, but that ancient knowledge is forbidden! We must not return!”
Lia stepped back without looking, knocking a pile of books to the floor. Scipirre didn’t seem to notice, instead continuing to stare glassy-eyed while repeating the same phrase. The student ran from his office, down the hall and away towards her dormitory, even as the professor’s words echoed in her mind.
We must not return. We must not return.
