3. the missing master

she'd been in the Floor almost 3 months, and she didn't know how much more she'd be able to take. He was an awful master. He was a bad master. And then, she thought she was being petulant and unfair. It wasn't that Roujshe didn't teach Subliming when he wasn't there. He. just. never. was. there!

He's the missing master-- she thought as she stroked the leaves of the Motian violet before her. She knew she mustn't be upset and impatient, but she had waited so long to finally become a sublimist. And at this last stage, to be put into a room with stacks and stacks of books and wovings which she could barely decipher -- because of a missing master? Well, that, that was what poor Amaline could barely tolerate.

She looked in dismay at the crushed leaf she was clenching. "Oh no..." she muttered. Ammi pulled her cup of tea near -- it was cooling fast, but the smallest vapor still rose. She quickly drew into it and with a quick thrust, pushed the curling mist over the Motian violet. "I hope that serves as a decent apology," she said and looked carefully as the plant, almost imperceptibly, brightened.