Handoff.
The decision was one made deep into the night possibly with more irrationale than Anthonie would have preferred. Having just recovered from the exhaustion of the aftermath of running a fever, he had plunged himself back into the piling work that had been left on his desk after his few days’ of absence. His glances over the paperwork were mostly cursory, and for more times than one he had to slow for a cup of tea or a change of environment to the school’s many creak sides, if only for a chance of better focus. He had caught himself yawning, and once, even rolling his eyes at a particularly tedious paper for review.
There had been cracks the weeks before, if anyone had stopped closely enough to realise. He had mentioned exhaustion, and brushed it off as just seasonal. He had mentioned fatigue, and reduced it to just poor sleep. He had mentioned the headaches that now struck his mind like the common lightning storms of Uagadou, and was advised simply to take some medication. Magic, as they say, solved every problem. If that was the truth, why did he have to swallow his words as soon as they brimmed to his lips?
If magic solved every problem, he would not be here in the first place.
His family would be the first to know. They deserved to, after all they had done for him, and all the expectations they bore. The letter was drafted in a bout of insomnia, and while of the disposition to be on usual good terms with sleep, he had decided to forsake it as his quill moved faster than his mind, his hand furious across the parchment. The writing, a cursive that demanded attention, was legible, bar a few words written with particular haste, and a few phrases scribed with especial uncertainty. It shook, here and there, but no blotches of ink would be visible on paper. He signed it off in his best signature, and sealed it into an envelope. The light on his desk flickered.
He knew the answer that would come. Not confrontational, not disappointed, simply curious. And perhaps, it was this fate that made it all the worse. Simply, Jacobus and Elmarie would ask: what next?
And it was precisely that question he could not quite answer. He had his life figured out, at the tender age of twenty-five, without realising he was locking himself into a path that would fuel more hatred than anything in its tedium. When his peers were still exploring the vast open fields of possibility, he had chained himself into one position and promised years of dedication. His arguments had been simple, direct, straight to the point — but only now did he realise he had been fighting for something that would never benefit him. He had been foolish, and utterly dissociated from himself, when he had made the decision to set onto a path so young and naive.
He supposed this had always been a transition. He had already made it something much more meaningful than its ends would have allowed. He had already upheaved the teaching methods, from the traditional lectures to more liberating discussions. Yet the visionary had only taken up teaching, pivoting from law, after the death of his grandfather, his family delving into arguments he wished to steer away from. He had never expected it to be lasting — he had only imposed it upon himself that it ought to be. But who was he kidding, that would have never worked for the young man, who, from boyhood, ached to explore.
The truth was, the word extraordinary was different from what Anthonie had thought it would mean. To his younger self, so caught up in his world changing philosophies and ideals, he thought it would be to work his way up to the highest position, until he held the power to change the system entirely in his grasp. Yet to him now, stood at the crossroads after these fateful, impactful twenty-five years, he had different thoughts. To be extraordinary was to explore the world’s breadth, was to traverse the earth’s length, was to understand humanity’s width, and was to comprehend his own depth. It was through trying new things, through bravery, determination that it was achieved, along with friends made along the way. There were two ways to reach the mountaintop: a tree-bound, steep stairs heading straight up, or the winding path that circumnavigated the mountain, and offered a breathtaking view of the valleys below.
And by all means, Anthonie Engelbrecht still wanted to be extraordinary. This time, however, it would strictly be on his own terms.
In the meantime, he would keep the news silent from his colleagues, his students, and any other prying ears that was awaiting his downfall. It was only a matter of time before whispers would start. The Engelbrecht heir who had taken a different route, only to see a short-lived reign. People, he had learnt, never cared about what you did best, only what you did worst, and what they could scrape off of your own failures.
The joke was on them. The Engelbrecht household never saw anything as a failure. If winning was not an option, learning was one. But looking through the right perspective, there could always be more wins hidden, just where you would not have expected them.
The joke was on them. Anthonie never saw anything as a failure.
But, failure or not, this was still a pressing issue, and it was then that the matter became evident. His replacement. The name crossed his mind almost as soon as the owl had been mailed, for he saw no reason to search outside of the school’s bounds when they already held such talent within. It was a full circle moment, almost, as the next morning, he found himself stepping up to the office door of the alchemy and potions professor, exactly the job he had been promoted from. A few sharp knocks signalled his presence.
@Nadira Bakari | Banner by Prat Pass
we are all stardust and stories. we are all dreams.
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova
Handoff.
Uagadou
—————————————
@Anthonie Engelbrecht
—————————————
687 words
—————————————
That May morning started like any other with Nadira rising early with the sun to begin her daily routine. She loved the structure of a well laid out routine, she loved organization, she was very much a perfectionist in every aspect. Once she had gotten ready for the day, she made her way down to the New Moon floor where she went outside every morning to sit out in the open field and enjoy her light breakfast, that morning specifically some fruit as she wasn’t very hungry. After the peace and quiet that came with sitting out alone in the fields enjoying the morning air, she helped tend to some of the fields within the school’s caverns. She always loved the self sufficient nature of the school and not relying on outside sources, plus the harvests they produced always tasted better than anything else to her.
Along her route to the classroom, she stopped to greet and talk with some of her students. She loved when they would stop her to ask questions, most of the time anyway. But she did truly love the position she was in since it gave her a fulfilled feeling as she taught them everything she could in the world of alchemy and potions. It was her passion after all, something she found out in the very classroom she was now teaching in and now she was sharing it with the next generation of young witches and wizards. Quite the full circle moment for her, one she had never imagined before taking the position. Nadira loved her time at the school but had never considered she would be back in the very halls she once roamed as a staff member. However with Headmaster Engelbrecht moving into that position and opening up the position for Potions and Alchemy professor, it seemed to be an amazing opportunity she couldn’t pass up, and one that pleased her family quite a lot.
Once she made her way into the classroom, she kept the door open, as she tried to be available for her students whenever, and went to sit at her desk. She went over her lesson plans for the week ahead, a few nods here and there as she went over what she would discuss that day. She prepared the materials for the first lessons of the day, getting out any supplies and ingredients they would need and carefully laying things out on one of the tables near the front of the classroom by her desk so the students would be able to come up and gather their materials as they came in the room.
It was then as she was in the middle of her preparations that she heard a knock at the door. A smile flittered to her face as she wondered what brave student was coming to see her so early in the day. Her bright smile turned into curiosity as she slightly tilted her head at the sight of the Headmaster standing in the doorway. Had she done something wrong? Not that she could think of. Was there some sort of trouble that he needed help with? Many questions flew through her mind in an instant as she met his light blue eyes. “Good morning Headmaster Engelbrecht, what brings you by this morning?” She asked him as she put the last of the materials out and walked towards the door.
Anthonie was nearly a decade younger than herself, something she did admire about him as he had secured himself such a position at a young age. The young headmaster had come into office in the beginning of October, with Nadira taking his place as professor shortly after. She had enjoyed some conversation with him here and there, mostly sharing tidbits about potions and alchemy as the two had that professor position in common. Otherwise the few times they spoke was strictly business related, she never pried much into personal matters with him as he never seemed to be fully open to disclosing anything either. He was indeed an interesting creature. She could only wonder what brought him to her that morning.
Handoff.
“Good morning Headmaster Engelbrecht, what brings you by this morning?” A smile, a greeting, and the faint, distinct feeling that her amiability had been reserved for someone else.
An expected question. The door closed with swift decisiveness, yet his hand still guided it to a shut with gentleness. He did not want it so slam. Not so early in the morning, not so early within a conversation. Not at all, he hoped.
Headmaster that he was, the truth was it was within his prerogative to step into any room with an aura of intimidation, but it was an entitlement that he rarely deployed. Often wreathed with smiles, blessed with eyes that shone as bright as his soul, windows to a world of the clear sky in cerulean blue, he was pure of heart, with a moral compass that did not malfunction. Not because he thought he was above any sin, but because there had never been a reason for him to play around with the polar scale. Any man who had to scare someone into respecting them was not a man worth respecting.
“I am sure you are curious.” He leaned back on the door. Casual, careless, harbouring no deeper subtext than a languid resting. He crossed his arms, not in accusation, but amicability. The reminder that their co-existence was one beyond formalities. He tilted his head towards her, straightening as his eyes glimmered in questioning, expecting an answer even before Nadira had the chance to hear what he had to ask. “I am too. My curiosity, however, is directed at you.”
A few swift strides carried him forward. He contemplated, finding a compromise between a straightforward reveal and heedless beating around the bush. If her intentions did not align with his own, the former’s lack of cautious phrasing could have been hidden treachery; if he did not express his preposition with enough clarity, she might even wonder why the headmaster decided it was an appropriate time for morning chatter, just before lessons. Finally, he decided it was not uncouth to direct a question back at her instead.
And so he inquired, eyes settling on the rich pools of Nadira’s: “What do you think your goals are with this position, Professor Bakari?” A variety of answers could have been expected, yet his tone had already asked her to save both their time and gloss over the most generic of the responses. For some, it was love of the craft; for others, desire to pass down knowledge. Yet, a few also regarded the position as a stepping stone — always leading to something bigger, always leading to something more. What he was looking for was that glimmer of ambition never absent from the eyes he could trust to take on his legacy. And something more than ambition. Compassion.
The decision to pursue education was not an accidental one, even if it was one fuelled by accident. Food parcels bought a child another day; a good education bought a lineage another chance. And it was on the backdrop of the family’s generosity and dedication towards philanthropy that he had set out on his own endeavours. Continuing the family name in a way that spoke out to himself. In any case, they broke through the walls of injustice with the light of knowledge. Compassion and education were privileges and rights that could not be separated in the treachery of the world’s darkness.
That was a noble undertaking. He wondered if Nadira had the confidence to walk in the footsteps he his footfalls had left.
A laugh rang out in the room. Some words that he hoped were adequate to cover the sharp ringing his previous ones had left. It had sounded more like a demand than a collaboration, and he assured it was not his intention. “I do not intend to interrogate you, do forgive me if I came off as such.”
Next was a musing, a quick of the lips and a tilt of the head. A statement, not just directed at her, but the very walls around them. “Simply… many opportunities lie ahead, and I do not want you to miss any of them.”
A statement that was, in essence, directed at himself too.
@Nadira Bakari | Banner by Prat Pass
we are all stardust and stories. we are all dreams.
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova
Handoff.
Uagadou
—————————————
@Anthonie Engelbrecht
—————————————
655 words
—————————————
Nadira watched as the young headmaster carefully and calmly closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. It was not that the actions were out of character for the man but she was immediately intrigued by his words. Why was he curious about her all of a sudden? Where was he going with this conversation?
She let her eyes fix on the man, following his movements, analyzing every step and gesture carefully. As their eyes met once again, Nadira cocked her head to the side at his question. It was certainly a loaded question for such an early hour, but not one that she hadn’t thought of even in her short time at the school. She, of course, had higher ambitions than just professor, even though she had been settling into the role nicely over the last months. But she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want to aim higher for herself, although it was more of a long term plan that she hadn’t expected to be put forth for a while so she could prove herself worthy of such positions. She couldn’t help but consider what this question meant for him to be asking it. It wasn’t just idle chatter between the two colleagues over a casual cup of coffee in the morning. No. Nadira’s mind raced as she considered what to say in response.
“Well, sir, I believe my goals in life have been pretty clear. I would like to aim higher for myself, and to make my family proud.” She paused as she thought how to continue, somewhat dancing around the subject of her ultimate goals. “I do intend, as far as my career pursuits at Uagadou, to inspire the students and teach them all I can so they can go on and do well in their own pursuits.” It was true, after all. Nadira’s love for teaching these students had came somewhat naturally, as if she was watching children of her own learn and grow, she took pride in their accomplishments. “I believe, sir, I would love to see the school and the students thrive and prosper.”
She looked at him curiously as he laughed, a warming change from the somewhat cut and dry questions moments earlier. His apology that followed simply left her confused and even more curious to what led the young headmaster to stopping by her classroom that early morning. The somewhat cryptic, vague questioning was making her wonder. Was something going on with Anthonie? Was there something going on within the school? Perhaps even the Council of the Wise had said something to him? So many questions but where was this all leading?
His next words swirled in the air around her. What opportunities was he referring to? Had some position opened up that she hadn’t yet heard about or was this his attempt at letting her know ahead of the general announcement? For a brief second she considered something she believed to be too far fetched. Could Anthonie be stepping out of his role as headmaster? Hardly an option, he was young, fairly new in the role, he had so much care for the school from what she had seen, it was impossible.
“Forgive me, Headmaster,” Nadira said, letting her hands fall to her side before clasping them together behind her back. “Where is this coming from exactly?” She asked, tilting her head at him as she tried to study his face for any tells. “I’m afraid this rather vague yet cheery demeanor is quite odd for you.” She joked lightly but was quite serious of the fact that he was acting stranger than usual. Indeed she wondered why he seemed like he had something just sitting on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t quite spit it out. Nadira leaned against her desk, mindlessly fidgeting with one of her crystals she kept on her desk as she watched him.
Handoff.
Nadira’s life goals, in essence, did not differ drastically from Anthonie, and it was there, where understanding with bridged, that he understood her for her deeper self. They stood on similar paths, yet two with far different trajectories. Both aimed to reach higher, unsatisfied and lacking complacency. It was a quality, a value, and a virtue, this ambition that fuelled them. Yet used recklessly, it could also be their greatest flaw. Used recklessly, they would be flying without sense, sweeping into thunderclouds and doing tricks no being would survive. Yet, after all, perhaps it was innate in their bones, for they were no ardhini. Their life, as it had been spelled out for them, was to reach for the skies, and leave the tethers of the grounds behind them. Wizardry could have been their greatest blessing and deepest sin.
Goals ought to be clear. How could the stars ever be reached under a perpetually overcast sky?
It was, however, in their more specific goals, that Nadira and Anthonie drew their differences. They understood a higher reach as different meanings. He had learnt, after these twenty-five years of self-observation, that he was not destined for a stagnant fate. He never reached one position and grew comfortable in it, no matter the power it granted. So while Nadira was pledging her life to the prosperity of their school, Anthonie saw possibilities elsewhere. Anthonie had once made the same decision. To him, it had been a mistake. He could only hope that it would prove to be much different to Nadira. His idea of the extraordinary was different now — one that only served him and no other.
Perhaps Nadira would not understand; perhaps his students would not understand; perhaps his colleagues would not understand. And perhaps, this world would view his pivot in career with suspicion. Yet, no matter, he understood. That was all he cared for.
“Forgive me, headmaster.” Her hands clasped behind his back as Anthonie tracked her movements. Her delicacy with this matter, her serious approach, it was written on more than just the sole facet of her face. He could sense how heavily she took the matter, and it was within these subtleties of micro-actions that he had decided she was fit for the position. Just almost, he could have seen the gears that spun her psyche. How she could have touched on the truth, and how easily she could have dismissed it. It came as a surprise to most. Most of everyone, except for himself. It only went to show how little the world truly knew of him, and for that, he both thanked and grieved.
“Where is this coming from exactly?”
“I have been considering my place in this school.” He decided there was no better approach than to tell the direct truth. After all, if Anthonie believed he could trust Nadira with this school, he would have believed he could trust Nadira with a few words. Watching as she fiddled with her crystals, Anthonie stepped back and spread his arms out in admission. “I have no better alma mater. I care for this institution greatly. I am deeply thankful for the education I have been exposed to here, both while I was receiving it and while I was providing it.”
From enrolment to the beginning of his career, Anthonie had dedicated close to a decade to the school, whether as student, professor, or headmaster. Memories had been made. He would cling onto them, but he would also move on from them.
“It is for that reason that I wish for it to be in good hands, always.” He lifted his chin. He was placing immense trust in Nadira’s hands, and he hoped that it was trust she would treat gently. His eyes met hers with the resoluteness of a man who harboured impossible ambitions. His eyes met hers with the resoluteness of a man who knew he would make them possible. As those pools of cerulean blue steeled into something more demanding, his words did not quite come out as challenging, but rather the one of a colleague extending an offer to another. “I am hoping that, if I were to offer you an administrative position, that you would take it.”
@Nadira Bakari | Banner by Prat Pass
we are all stardust and stories. we are all dreams.
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova
Archer Duncan | Liliya Starkova