As my apprenticeship with the Archmage began, I still wasn't at my best, understandably. The war trudged on and served as a constant reminder of my circumstances. Having always believed myself to be strong-willed, forward-thinking, and just plain stubborn, I'd become uncharacteristically subdued during my first few weeks with the Archmage. 

My mother's death, over sixteen months ago, had finally hit me. A fact I had not realised at first. I guess throwing myself into finding employment and then focusing on studies kept certain emotions at bay. I hadn't realised I'd been wandering around in a sort of limbo, becoming demotivated and empty. Lost.

The Archmage knew of my mother's passing and to be fair, she was compassionate - for a while. Three months into my role, however, she took me aside to tell me the time for grieving was over. Now, I needed to work. She pointed out in no uncertain terms, that if being part of the Magocrasy was my dream, I needed to put the past behind me. Allowing myself to sink before I had even attempted to swim was, as she put it, "pitiful, tragic, but above all, extremely discouraging."

I won't lie; I took that conversation hard. My initial oversensitivity to her remarks threatened to derail my progress, but a period of introspection and solitude led me to a profound realisation. My mentor's seemingly harsh words were a catalyst for my growth. And so, I embraced my studies with renewed vigour and set about absorbing every lesson she imparted.

It was also around then that my friend Geraldine made my life a million times better. Since being assigned to our respective mentors, we saw each other infrequently. I missed the times we used to study together and just hang out enjoying what free time we had during our first year.

I met her one day while acquiring some items Archmage Modera had requested from the Apothecary in the Magus Commerce Exchange. My friend was there on a similar mission, but for her father, who was an alchemist.

Geraldine handed me a small package. "I've been meaning to get this to you for a while now," she said.

I looked at the gift a little blankly. "What is it?"

"Open it and see," she replied, smiling. I could tell she was desperate for me to open her gift.

I did as she said and found a pair of blue-tinted spectacles. I confess I baulked, but trying not to sound ungrateful, I asked, "What are these for? My eyesight is not impaired."

"Well, technically, it is," she replied candidly. "But they are not for short—or long-sightedness." She quickly hooked the frames over my ears. "They will, however, help you when reading."

I was confused. "What? How?"

She pointed to her own glasses, which had pink-tinted lenses. "I have the same problem that you do," she said.

I was still unsure as to what she was referring to, and I think my face said it all.

"My father had a bit of a mishap in his laboratory, but as a result, he inadvertently created these." Again, she indicated both our glasses.

My inability to grasp what she was trying to tell me was evidently frustrating her. Looking around, she grabbed a pamphlet from one of the counters and thrust it at me. "Read it!" she insisted.

I heaved a sigh but decided to humour her, even though I knew it might take me a while to decipher the words.

For the first time in years, words did not dance upon the pages; they were no longer muddled or incoherent. I was speechless. Amazed!

Smiling, she explained it had been a complete fluke that her father happened across the miracle lenses when one of his experiments had 'backfired'. Fortuitously so, as it happened. "My father says I suffer from a condition called word blindness, and when I realised you had the same difficulties with reading as I had, I asked him to make another pair for you. I'm sorry they aren't pink like mine." She handed me her glasses and asked me to try them. I did, but strangely, I found the blue ones served me better. I was extremely grateful to my friend.

"Thank you, Geraldine. I – I cannot tell you how much this means to me. Please tell your father I am very grateful."

Geraldine shrugged and smiled coyly.

"But I must pay for these, I can't accept..."

"No! They are a gift. From me."

"I can't, I..."

"No more discussion. Accept my gift and let's go have something to eat."

I was quite overcome, and agreed, on the condition I bought her lunch. That was acceptable.

So, now in possession of the coolest blue-lens glasses, I was, unexpectedly, considered trendy. Ha! Me? Fashionable? As a very plain individual, I must admit, the prospect amused me highly. Best of all though, the theory part of my studies was less arduous and time-consuming, and I managed to read through all the textbooks at a far better pace.

Over the next few months, the Archmage lost some of her iciness. I wouldn't say she exactly warmed to me, but the sharp critiques eased, replaced – albeit sporadically - by congratulatory phrases; 'Well done,' 'Good call,' 'Well, I never!' I was improving, refocusing, and learning fast. In some cases, my progress resulted in commendations from several peers as well as a few Archmagi.

Even my father declared he was impressed by my dedication; that was as close to a compliment as I'd ever had from the man, therefore, it meant a great deal to me. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Well, Geraldine's gift has certainly helped with Klara's dyslexia and, therefore, impacted her learning.

So, now Klara's education will speed up considerably, and with Archmage Modera at the helm, I'm sure she'll do well. 

What did you think of Modera's initial advice for Klara regarding her grieving? Was it deserved? Just?