Chapter Text
“YOU’VE been reading the same page for ten minutes.” Wilem’s thick accent cut through the silence that had dulled the sounds of the day all around us and I looked up, a stiffness in my neck that I hadn’t been aware of before.
“It’s Teccam.”
“And?” Wilem raised a bushy brow, as if I’d merely informed him of the time of day.
“And,” I tapped the page, which was suddenly lifting in the wind, “There’s a lot to dissect in the first few pages.”
“I said page.” He gave a light smile, smoothing the flapping leaf under my fingers before taking another solemn bite of his sandwich.
Sim had been awfully quiet between us, and I looked up, wondering what miracle would have him so engaged that he avoided picking at our attempt at conversation.
“There’s Master Elodin.” His voice was strangely curious and I followed his gaze some distance down the road.
He was walking far slower than a stroll, his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his Master’s robes, his eyes a calm contrast to his wild and disheveled hair. He was coming down the road, I suddenly realized, that led from Haven.
“Why do you think Elodin is the only one who visits?” I asked.
Sim finally glanced up, his fingers sticky with jam. “Huh?”
“Elodin.” I said. “He’s the only one of the Masters that visits Haven. At least, he’s the only one I’ve seen visit.”
Both Wilem and Sim were quiet and I looked over, sensing that I’d once again said something wrong.
“What?”
They shared a glance, but Sim eventually answered. “Haven isn’t really… it’s not—”
“It’s not a place to ‘visit’.” Wilem clarified and shrugged. “You go to stay. Or so I’ve been told.”
“But Elodin visits all the time.” I pointed out. At least, he seemed to.
Sim nodded, understanding what I meant.
“Yeah, but…”
“But?”
“Elodin’s different.” He said simply. I still didn’t understand his meaning.
“I know it’s a hard place to be. But none of the other Masters even care so much as to mention it.”
Wilem looked uncomfortable and Sim shifted away, letting his eyes fall to the grass. “Everyone knows the risks involved studying sympathy. There’s nothing that can be done for a mind when it cracks, Kvothe.”
I raised a brow. “Elodin managed to recover his sanity.”
In part, at least. But I kept the last thought to myself.
Sim shrugged. “Elodin’s managed a lot of things no one else has. There’s a reason he’s Master Namer.”
I glanced back to where Elodin had stopped, still staring blankly into the field, his disheveled hair blowing in the wind. Strangely, he looked somewhat ethereal. As if he were simply a piece of the landscape itself.
I turned back to Sim.
“That still doesn’t answer my question.” I said. “Why is it that only Elodin visits?”
Wilem and Simmon shared yet another glance and by then, I was getting tired of them.
“There is a rumor…” Sim started and Wilem immediately shook his head.
“A rumor.” He said. “Nothing more.”
It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t intrigued. “Rumors are based in truth,” I said, though I was mainly grasping at straws, since I wanted to hear more of Sim’s theory.
“Not this one.” Wilem interrupted and Sim took out a sandwich and wolfed down a bite.
“It’s one that’s been floating around since before we came to the University. So it can’t be so impossible as to be untrue. In fact, it’s more of an accepted legend.”
“And that is..?” My fingers were suddenly twitching as I fingered the edge of my book and Sim leaned in close, his voice lowering as well as his sandwich.
“In his second year, Elodin befriended a girl who’d been released from Haven. They were close, and it’s only natural to assume that they were…” He paused, looking over his shoulder as if Elodin could’ve somehow sprinted across the road and appeared at our backs to eavesdrop on the conversation. (Though the thought was entirely plausible). “That they were… fond, of each other. That they’d been in love.”
I couldn’t help it: I laughed out loud, the sound traveling like a wave through the courtyard and breaking our charged silence. Sim hushed me with a look that could’ve stilled a storm, glancing towards Elodin, though the Master Namer still hadn’t moved from his zen-like position.
“Elodin?” It was far too amusing of a thought, and I shook my head. “He’s practically unpredictable.”
Sim scowled at me. “He’s not always crazy, you know. How do you think he became a Master?”
The question was fair enough that I stopped laughing and smiled. “Alright. He was in love. She was fair and bright and beautiful and every bit as disenchantingly cracked as he could be. How did it end in tragedy?”
Sim shook his head. “She wasn’t cracked.”
I raised a brow, admittedly, not expecting this. “She had to have been, at least a little bit, if she’d come from Haven.”
He gave a slow smile, taking a bite out of his sandwich and facing the courtyard again. “I suppose it’s too boring of a tale for you gentlemen.”
Wilem groaned, shaking his head while Sim jabbed him with an elbow, but I, unfortunately, had fallen prey to his perfectly cast bait.
“Tell it.” I commanded and his smile only widened.
“I thought you were engaged quite profusely in Teccam?”
I set the book down, showing my genuine interest in his tale, knowing he liked an attentive audience, for all his teasing.
“I’m listening, Sim.” I said and he glanced at Wilem, taking another hearty bite of his sandwich. “And I assume this is the part where you complain that I’m simply beating a dead horse, and then lecture me about repeating idle gossip?”
“It is nothing more than gossip.” He said brusquely. “But if you must beat your dead horse, then I will let you beat it without interruption.”
It wasn’t a kind picture, but I smiled nonetheless. “I’ve got an hour until Adept Sympathy. You’d better get started.”
Sim lifted his hand, sandwich waving through the air like a flag of truce, and after a moment to collect himself and a deep breath, he began his tale…