Afterthought

They’re saying a lot out there. They’re saying that the threat is past, that people saw Ioth repairing the hole in the sphere, that things are different now. I only know the last one for certain. There’s this lingering feeling in the air, and I’m not just talking about the chill left over from the storm.
 
I can’t bring myself to say that what happened with Boreas and his minions is over now, but I’ll acknowledge that there’s a pause. A moment of respite. Classes are canceled for the week – privately, I’m a bit disappointed that I don’t have them as an excuse to just bury my head in a book and take my mind off of things. I’m sure I’ll be thankful for the rest in retrospect, though.
 
In the meantime, I’ve just been...biding my time. I sent a letter home early – as insular as the academy is, my mother still has her whisperers, and I’d rather she hear about what happened from me. Best to tell her I’m alive and well so she doesn’t bring her own wrath down upon this school. Since then, I’ve just been trying to keep my hands busy. I’ve been spending a lot of time in the gardens, playing my instruments when no one’s around, reading when they are. I managed to get enough space in the kitchen to make some spiced biscuits – they’re not quite as good as the ones at home, but they scratch the nostalgia itch well enough. I force myself to talk to at least one student every day, even if it’s just to ask how they’re doing. I’ve gotten some strange looks, but had some good conversations too. I want people to know that I see them.
 
I can’t parse what I’m feeling about it all, really. I’m not an infant – I know that for all the academy’s safeguards, the world is too dangerous for some of it not to slip in every now and then – so it’s not that I’m shocked, or that I feel betrayed. I think I would rather feel something strongly, even if it was anger. I just feel a bit...hazy. Like I’m witnessing this aftermath from somewhere outside of my body. I went to one of the counseling sessions, and the caretaker I spoke to was very compassionate, but I still struggled to find the words for how I feel. I keep wanting to grab myself by the shoulders and shake, tell myself I didn’t even see the worst of it, that other people got hurt, other people saw things far more terrible than myself. I know it’s not fair to me, but the pesky thought keeps making its way back.
 
It helps to play songs. I still can’t bear to have anyone watch me play, but I try and do it by open windows, or outside. Maybe someone will understand what I’m feeling if they hear it that way. Maybe it’ll make them feel something, too.
And now this Dokkalfar Sage is here, so people are naturally talking about that too. They say she’s here to root out potential infernal corruption within the academy, and I suppose we’ll see if that’s the case. I’ve come to understand that no one is necessarily just doing the thing they say they’re doing, so I anticipate there’s more to this. If you ask me, I’ve had enough secretive strangers with unknowable intentions just showing up around here to last me a long while.
 
I don’t like feeling so cynical. When people started saying they saw Ioth during the storm, I heard people asking why he appeared to fix the sphere, but not to help us. I couldn’t help but wonder – who expected him to help? He’s been gods-know-where doing gods-know-what for however long now, leaving the academy to the people we actually know – the people who died protecting this school. They’re the ones who will actually stand up when things get difficult the way they did. And if there’s one thing I learned from these past few days, it’s that we can rely on each other more than anything. We don’t need him, so the timing of his appearance doesn’t matter.
 
But I should do my best not to let bitterness seep in. I wonder if Dart has any tea at the ready. I could use some.