Ghost Story

[Marian Hawke]

"Promise? I can stay here?" she asks, quietly. 

[Varric]

Some instinct, perhaps born from his innate nature of wary honesty, perhaps born from a promise still freshly broken, makes him hesitate a few heartbeats. "You can stay as long as you need to stay, until you're ready to go on to more," he says, each word chosen and shaped with great care. 

[Marian Hawke]

Emma nods ,curling her arms around her knees. "Okay," she whispers. "Sorry about all this."

[Varric]

Done worse for worse. "Not that much a hardship really. For me I mean. Not trying to make light of-- Just mean that it's fine. For me." He scowls. "Don't worry about it."

[Marian Hawke]

Emma sits in silence for a long moment before another shiver runs down her spine. "Can we go back inside now?"

[Varric]

You were the one who came out here... "Sure. Want to start working on the lower bath." He gives her a thoughtful look. Good with numbers and memory. "Need to make some defoiliant for the mold. Interested in helping?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I don't know how," she says quietly. "But I'll learn if you want."

[Varric]

He just nods. "That was the plan. You're good with maths, learn fast and can follow instructions without being overly bound by them. Good traits for an alchemist."

[Marian Hawke]

"It's not magic, right?"

[Varric]

"Not what I was going to teach you, no. Not anymore than breathing is anyway."

[Marian Hawke]

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay. So long as we do it inside." 

So saying, Emma picks herself up, hands twitching a bit as she makes her way inside. 

[Varric]

Varric watches her for a moment before following. What the fuck did they do to her?

[GamesMaster]

It will take some weeks for the test materials to arrive; in the meantime, the quickest and most likely place to find educational materials and perhaps even exams is the local school. 

It's not looking good as he arrives that afternoon. There are a handful of kids and teens playing in the yard, and one teen boy sweeping dirt out of the front of the small schoolhouse. The building is painted bright red, as many schoolhouses are, but it's not very large, perhaps the size of a large cabin, with a handful of aging windows scattered about the exterior. Inside, he can see one large room with a supply closet. Said room has one wall of chalkboards, with a teacher's desk in front of it, and the rest of the room nearly full of desks all pointed toward the chalkboard wall. On the board are the remnants of the day's instruction: bits of math equations, all very simple, despite the children mostly seeming on the cusp of pubescence. 

The teacher is a half-elf, like Emma, and yet not like her at the same time. This woman is grown, after all, a young adult barely seeming older than her pupils. Sure, she works at it; her hair is up in a severe bun, and the frown on her face ages her somewhat. But to his practiced eye, she's still young and full of energy, at that awkward stage where the propulsion of merikos youth has slowed and her aging has just settled into its new rate. Perhaps she is in her forties, but no older. 

"Can I help you?" she asks, turning from packing up her books to face the intruder as the sweeping boy  slips past, aiming for the well.

[Varric]

Gods above and below, this is an outrage. Without really thinking it over, Varric changes tactics on the fly. "Fair days and restful nights, Mistress Educator. My name is Varric Tethras, the new owner of the Verbury estate." He inclines his head, polite and respectful while also claiming the socially superior position as his due.

[GamesMaster]

"Greetings. I am Miss Silverstone, the schoolma'am." Schoolma'am? Not even teacher, let alone Doctor So-and-so, but she only claims the old fashioned title of 'schoolma'am'? Still, she curtseys prettily enough, taking the books to the back of the room where many textbooks rest on shelves. "How can I help you, Mr Tethras?"