A Proper Education: Chapter Three

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Credence imagined she would learn reading and sums in school.

Given that she felt proficient in both, she assumed she would do quite well, and might even excel beyond her peers. Or perhaps they would learn a bit of alchemy or even history, subjects which had always intrigued Credence, but were rarely taught at home due to their lack of usefulness. Maybe school would be more like her time with Lilith, and they would brew medicines and learn about wild beasts and how to use every piece of them.

What she wasn't prepared for were the Headmaster's lessons, which had nothing to do with reading or history.

They weren't centered around anything important at all.

"Today," the Headmaster announced, "we're going to talk about colors."

It was a silly topic, but it sent a thrill through the other students, especially when the Headmaster called on each of them to say which was their favorite. A few of the girls gave their favorite color as pink or yellow, while Gregory revealed his as black. The other boy said blue, but only the bright kind. When the Headmaster came to Credence, she realized she didn't think much of colors at all. It felt childish to have a favorite, for all colors had their place and beauty.

But Credence knew this answer would not be pleasing, so when she opened her mouth to give her reply, she thought of the only color that ever held any meaning to her.

"Purple. A very dark purple. Dark enough that it could almost be red, like the color of wine."

"Excellent choice," the Headmaster complimented, making Credence feel proud, "and a difficult one to spell. Tell me, do you know what letter the word 'purple' begins with?"

Credence nodded. "I could write it for you, if you like."

The shoulders of her classmates tensed, and the Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"You can spell?"

"Yes, Headmaster. I can read and write. My parents taught me."

"I see."

From his pockets the Headmaster withdrew a piece of white rock, about the length of his finger. He moved to the black wall behind his desk and tapped the rock against it.

"Come and write the word here."

Credence hesitated, wondering if she might be walking into a trap, but rather than risk the ire of the Headmaster she walked to the front of the room. She took the piece of white rock and pressed it against the black wall to form the letters of the word, and the class waited in anxious silence until Credence stepped back so the Headmaster could appraise her work.

"My, my," the Headmaster said and added nothing else.

Credence glanced at the other students, expecting them to be awed by her ability, but their faces held worry.

"Did...did I do wrong?" she asked the Headmaster. "Am I not supposed to spell?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "You've done nothing wrong, Credence, but not many here can read words, let alone write them."

"Don't you teach them how?"

A few of the students gasped and Credence instantly feared she had offended the Headmaster, but he chuckled.

"School is not for reading and writing. School is for helping you get ready for the Auction, to prepare you for potential keepers. You do not need letters for that."

"Oh." Credence paused before her next question. "What do I need?"

"Exactly what I'm teaching. Colors, for example, are an absolute necessity. You may retake your seat."

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