Chapter 13 – A history lesson to forget
I spend last night in the forest. With Mr. Patrick present I assumed the barrier would be lifted at some point to let him out. I sat ready with my letter positioned behind a big rock by the exit. As it turns out I’m not entirely stupid, and I did manage to slip the letter out under the barrier. Once on the other side, I could easily move it around again, it was only the physical thing I couldn’t get out. Not knowing where my family is, and not being able to locate them with the world as my haystack, I simply put it in our old mailbox. And yes, I’m actually quite proud of that feat, it is a bit of a distance after all. If Hale is back in the states that would be where he’d expect communication to show up. If Hale is back in the states I have a chance at getting in touch with them. Just in case his gift works through the barrier I have specified where I am, room number, windows counted from the right, windows counted from the left, windows counted from below, approximate height of my window, everything that could possibly help him locate me here.
I went back to my room and waited, hoped. I got no reply. So I went to bed, and like a little kid waiting for Santa, I hoped there’d be something for me in the morning. Like a little kid waking up and seeing no presents and the milk and cookies still untouched, I woke up and saw the sketchpad I had laid out still blank. I suppose with how long it took me to get a message through I cannot reasonably expect Hale to manage the task in just a few short hours.
I get up, there is no point sitting here all day.
By order of the mighty headmaster, I am to attend Professor Holt’s classes and theory and history classes. I have been given no schedule, no timetable of where I’m supposed to be when, so I figured it was up for me to decide. Since
I’m sick of trying not to move when I move things, I’ve decided today is as good a day as any to see what they teach in history here.
I make my way down to room 601, the first of the history rooms. The class seems pretty full, so I move on to the next one. I’m not sure which one I’m supposed to be in, or what the differences are between them.
“In here miss Langdale,” an old man with white hair so long he looks like a movie wizard indicates to the first door again. “The rooms each have their time to focus on, it might be best if you started at the beginning.”
“Sure.” Whatever. I follow him back in room 601 and take a closer look at the students in there. Apart from me, the oldest student is probably around 15 at the most. I take a seat towards the back. The teacher doesn’t say hi or any of that nonsense, he just turns to the blackboard and starts teaching.
“We only have literary references to the Five Families of Old, no factual account, so we make due and take what we can from that,” he begins in a flat voice reminding me of a stewardess giving the same instructions for the thousandth time to people who can’t be bothered to listen anyway.
“We see no mentions of the Five Families of Old in common history or literature, which tells us the Five Families of Old too valued secrecy. They didn’t use their powers when around normal people.
“We know that careful records of marriages and births were kept by the heads of the Five Families of Old, we see them referenced in all of 7 different songs, but where the records are now we do not know. Some think the Langdale family has them all and is keeping them secret in order to prevent anyone else from proving their pure blood or their relation to one of the Five Families of Old. This, of course, is just a theory, but we do know the Five Families of Old took great care of these records, so it is unlikely they would simply let them disappear.” Should have saved them in the cloud then. Oh, wait, the school was built in the 16th century, the families died out before then… Wonder what could have happened to papers in an era with live flames everywhere. That is a mystery indeed.
“It seems most likely that the papers still exist…” Why? Do you know of someone who had the ability to protect them against time? “And that they are either hidden deliberately or unknowingly by a normal person in a museum or private collection. All we know for certain is that we don’t have them here.”
He drones on about how a few records show that ‘the Five Families of Old’ fought in wars and such, used their powers to help out around them, but never got caught.
“Doctor Alexander Debay saved more people than any other in the Angelo-French war in 1213.” He drones on about the heroics of the acts performed there, and only as an ending remark remembers to tell us that due to the tradition of giving out fake names when dealing with normal people, we only have the lost records from the Five Families of Old to historically document the affairs, and we only know about those from a song written about his heroic deeds.
“Henry Clifford, years later fought for Scottish independence, and though no normal historian of the time would have dared write such a thing down, there were tales of a mighty beast roaming the plains, but no Scottish casualties were ever recorded.” He drones on about Henry for at least two years before moving on to Timothy Forasting who got enemy plans of attack in the Battle of Helsingborg and Anthony Skyler whose heroic deed of transporting an entire battalion of soldiers into the sea was never recorded in normal history books due to the embarrassment it cost them and the inexplicableness of it. He then goes back to talking about the lost records. By lunchtime half the class is asleep, and I don’t blame them. It all sounds more like a morality lesson and an anti-Langdale propaganda.
“Howard Langdale slowed down time during the fires of Atlanta while his wife helped people get to safety,” I interrupt him. He turns around slowly as if he just felt a ghost walk over his grave. It seems people don’t normally interrupt him.
“Really?” he asks, but I can quite decide if his tone is excited at the possible new information or annoyed at the interruption.
“I’m a Langdale, and I say so,” I tell him. “Isn’t that how it works here? If someone from one of the families says it’s true, it is.”
“Do you have any documents to back up this claim?” he challenges. I pick up a piece of paper and a pen and scribble something down.
“Yes, of course, right here:
Brave and mighty he strode
Through fires burning like hell
All agreed he did well
When the wounded rose
.
Time did his bidding
And countless lives he saved
When Howard the behailed
Let them to winning.
I don’t remember the rest of the song, but by your standards, this should do, shouldn’t it? Also, General Lee was a Langdale, and if you’d believe it so was Lincoln.”
“You will kindly not interrupt my class again with such nonsense,” he tells me and turns back to his blackboard.
“Why are my claims nonsense and yours are facts?”
“I have historical documents to back me up,” he tells me sternly, still not offering me as much decency as to make eye contact.
“And history is anything in the past, this document,” I hold up my hastily scribbled, and rather poor, rhymes. “was written in the past, making it a historical document – written by a reputable source none the less.” The class is awake now, some of them clearly enjoying the show, others more offended that I dare question their methods here.
“Your word has no authority here, miss Langdale, however famous you might think you are. We deal with historical facts here, not made up heroes and fables.” I feel the anger rising up a little. What started as an attempt at some source criticism is now personal. I might not know a thing about dear Uncle Howard who apparently disappeared before I can remember, but the sergeant, my father, was awarded a medal of honor after he pulled 30 men to safety in the Gulf war. It’s tucked away in mother’s drawer now, out of sight and away from him. He says he could have gotten more out.
“Do you have any source, not one-sided, any information gotten from anything but fiction written to celebrate heroes? Do you have any source not European or American?”
“We see many examples throughout history of people with abilities…” He simply ignores me and continues his lecture. I get up and leave. If the library is saying the same kind of mumbo jumbo this is going to be harder to get through than anticipated.
“I’m looking for some history books?” I ask the librarian when I get to the seventh floor.
“What kind of history?” she asks in a bored voice, somewhat annoyed at my lack of specificity.
“Let’s start with the five families.” I almost add the ‘of old’, but manage to stop myself in time.
“What about them?” I sneak a peek around me. The library is huge, with closely set rows of old, discolored books, most of them with leather spines, and most of them rather dusty. It doesn’t look like the kind of place you’d find the Harry Potter books.
“A professor mentioned old sources describing records of births and marriages, I’d like to see those as well as anything you have on the 1876 education reform and any records or sources from when the school was first opened.” She looks up at me, for the first time sparing me more than a glance.
“Right this way, miss…?” I hesitate. With the reactions I have had so far, I don’t particularly want to give her my name.
“Langdale,” I admit. I doubt the Lester pseudonym would do me much good at this school.
“Langdale?” she inquires in surprise, but I can tell my mention of the educational reform had a bigger impact on her.
“Lizzy,” I elaborate.
“This way.” She gets off her chair and moves around the desk, leading me to one of the shelves towards the back.
“Everything is sorted by date in the history section, you’ll find the Five Families of Old in the oldest works, sources from that time will be in there.” She points to a section set apart with iron gates and a huge lock. “No student is allowed in there without supervision, and no material is allowed to be removed.” I assume I will have to earn that privilege. “For information on the Five Families I suggest you start with ‘A Historians View’, ‘History and Myth’, ‘Sagas unfold’, and perhaps ‘Origins’ if you want, but that one is less factual and more theoretical.” She points at the books as she mentions them, and they fly down for her to hand to me. I float them in the air.
“Transporter, I see.”
“Yes,” I agree, unsure why that is important enough to remark on.
“Interesting,” she remarks and moves on to the next shelf. “The schools were built in the 16th century, those records you will find here.” She points up to a shelf even more dusty than the rest of them. I suppose not many students are interested in that; the Lord of the Rings books are more entertaining I guess. She picks out ‘The Evolution of Teaching’, ‘Scholastic Theories’ – again with a warning about the historical theories – ‘The Value of an Education’, and ‘School – in and out’. From a shelf practically across the room, she picks ‘Educational Laws and Degrees’ and ‘Reformers Reformed’. I’m starting to be really happy I don’t have to carry these by hand, and my nose is tickling with a sneeze because of all the dust.
“Is there someplace I can sit?” I inquire when it seems like she’s done handing me book-bricks. She thinks about it for a second.
“There is the balcony,” she answers. “But that connects to the other half of the library, the fiction half.” And fiction is bad it seems.
“I think I can survive it, thank you,” I tell her. I haven’t seen many people stop by the library yet, and besides, classes are still going. She points towards the back of the library again, and sure enough, well hidden behind the shelves there is a small staircase leading up to an inside balcony looking out on the path to the school and the small shed marking then entry point. smaller counterpart outside present on every teaching floor. I walk up the stairs and sure enough, once up there you can see the balcony continuing into a much lighter, much brighter library – you can even spot some books with colors and pictures on the covers. I take a seat and spread out the books, looking at them properly for the first time.
By eight o’clock my stomach is telling me to stop by the cafeteria – which luckily has long opening hours so not all 1,500 students have to eat at the exact same time (except for at lunch). The librarian lets me keep the table so I don’t have to pack everything away, and I come back after dinner. I come back the next day too, and the next. Boring as all of this might be, if I want out, I have to learn it. As dictated by the 1871 educational degree the core elements of an ability focused education should be:
- Control of the ability
- Regular school (as in maths and all that)
- Understanding of the five groupings
- Basic understanding of the history and theory of abilities
- Understanding of the laws and rules applicable to anyone with an ability
The sooner I learn that, the sooner I can get out. Pam and I have agreed to meet up after classes every Tuesday and Thursday for my energy sensing lessons with her, as well as on Saturdays. I fit in as much library time around that as I can: after school, sometimes before school, sometimes instead of – all depending on my mood. I learn a lot, some of it perhaps even useful (I hope).
According to ‘Sagas Unfold’ the Five Families were not only successful in the old days, they quite often held key positions in villages and towns – many Natures, for example, were excellent healers, many Minders had easy access to political positions, it could be that Timers and Transporters could have collaborated on building things, and Transformers could have been useful in times of need – if say there was a drought and food was scarce. According to both ‘A Historian’s View’ and ‘History and Myth’ that was because the Five Families liked sticking together, and would often have their own villages. ‘A Historian’s View’ raises the question of what would happen when outsiders came to the village, but ‘Origins’ state that outsiders were welcome, as long as they accepted and adhered to the rules set by the families. At least that’s the explanation I find the most plausible – others include shields like the one at the school and our hose back home, which is impractical over such large areas when not isolated by for example water, or that visitors were kept out of town by old-fashioned force, in which case there should be records of wars being led on the families since the human reaction to ‘you can’t come in here’ is ‘watch me’.
According to ‘The Value of Education’, the reason behind the sudden appearance of schools all over the world was the supernatural scare running over Europe. With the witch trails starting up and people growing suspicious of the supernatural, it was deemed better to teach children away from danger.
‘Reformers Reformed’ tells of how the school system evolved and lost track of why they were doing it, and the reform that followed. It also tells the story of how some of the people forcing the reform through soon regretted it when the consequences became clear. People rose up against them, and within no time at all they had so many people against them that they were forced to re-reform the system. In the re-reform, it was decided that education, when mandatory, should be free, and support for students with normal parents should be available. That seems fair enough, right?
I rest my eyes for a second, and the books are replaced by Andy in an old-fashioned school uniform setting fire to the curtains when he tried to blow out the candles on his birthday cake on his fourth birthday.