God of Discovery [high fantasy, slow build, mlm]

Arc 4 - 8. Patience

D'Argen stared at the wall in front of him and tried to concentrate. Abbot was slouched against it, just out of sight, but D'Argen refused to look over and either confirm or deny that the artist was looking at him.

Darania had said he cracked the wall. Walls had beginnings and ends, no? Did it stand on something? Was it too high for him to climb over?

No.

He focused on the sandstone in front of him.

The sound of charcoal against paper made him hope that Abbot was drawing him instead of just staring. Now that D'Argen had been sitting still for so long, Abbot may be able to get a proper sketch in of him.

The curtain at the window fluttered with a breeze that turned into ice fingers when it slipped down the back of his shirt. He was not sure whether it was trying to tickle him or comfort him.

"I can't," D'Argen groaned. He flopped back into the pillows behind him and stared at the ceiling instead. It was carved in intricate patterns that his eyes could follow. More interesting than the wall.

Yaling laughed somewhere over his head.

Abbot scratched against his paper. "Almost five minutes this time," he said.

D'Argen groaned. "This is stupid," he spat out. "Why am I doing this again?" he asked.

When he twisted his body, top of his head to the floor so he could look at Yaling upside down, she just laughed again.

"You tell us," she said.

Darania had told D'Argen about the wall. She had told him that he should be fast enough to pass through it without breaking it. He just needed to understand it first. And she had also told him not to go breaking down the complex by experimenting.

"I'm done," he said and got up. There was a spring in his step, his mahee bidding him to get out of the room they were in. "I'll see you all—"

"Darania said—"

"I know what she said," D'Argen interrupted Yaling right after she tried to speak over him.

Yaling rolled her eyes. At least she was not scowling at him like yesterday.

"I need to get out," D'Argen said. He did not wait for either of them to acknowledge him and left the room. The curtain at the door tried to strangle him and he almost ripped it out of its rod. By the time he was in the open courtyard, he felt short of breath. Neither Yaling nor Abbot followed him. Good.

In the courtyard was a small class. There were over a dozen mortals sitting in the grass and on pillows in a circle around one of the older women that worked as a teacher at the complex. They were all silent as she moved her hands in intricate forms, teaching them the silent language.

D'Argen had thought it would be good to learn it, but he had lasted even shorter in one of her lessons than staring at the wall with Abbot and Yaling as silent company. Both Fran and Joel were in the circle. When Joel noticed him, he grinned wide and waved over. Then, his face scrunched up in concentration and his hands moved in a few patterns, bending his fingers and turning his palms around. He was glaring at his hands as if he was doing the forms wrong. D'Argen could not tell. He only knew how to say, 'thank you' and 'goodbye' using his hands.

While Joel was focused on his hands, D'Argen exited the courtyard.

"Hey, have you—" D'Argen's words died out when the mortal put a finger up to her lips. He knew that one as well. Right. Silent classes. She walked past him and into the courtyard he came out of. D'Argen wandered the vined and cobbled paths until he finally heard someone speak again.