After a weekend heavy with assignments--a paper for her electrocasting class, as well as two more for history and channeling objects--Key found her workload on Nortday surprisingly small, which was nice since she was sick of studying. She didn't really want to spend time in the common, either, so she headed downstairs to catch the last few hours before curfew outside.
Key wasn't really sure where to go, so she headed for the lightning ball pitch. Her natural born gift for electricity had taken the excitement out of lightning ball early, but she knew watching a game would relax her, and there was almost always someone playing. As she got closer, she realized one of the players was Ayan. And Miriam sat on a bench, cheering on her roommate.
Key took a seat next to the smaller girl. "I didn't know Ayan played lightning ball."
Miriam didn't even glance at Key. "She's been trying to convince people to let her play since the first day of school. Last week, Mat got Antony to let her in."
"Sounds like Mat."
"I have noticed Mat goes out of his way to help people."
It didn't surprise Key that Matias would help Ayan in this way. Since they were children, Mat had regaled her with stories about Pelan athletes who had shot arrows with their feet and climbed walls without legs. Even the great Tsia Xitano had had a bad leg, something she'd reminded Mat of when he had lost his own.
"Mat would say that being different is no reason to keep someone from participating." And he likes to remind me that when we judge others, we deny ourselves the opportunity to see what they're really like, she thought, eyeing Miriam.
"Well, he's smart." Miriam nodded toward the pitch, where Ayan bounced the ball off her head. "She's really good. She's going to try out for the team next week."
Key watched the students fighting over the ball for a moment, and then asked, "do you play?"
"My cousin enjoys it, and we used to play after my uncle took me in. But I haven't played in years."
"I've only played lightning ball... twice? in my life? And at least once it was only because Mat asked me."
Miriam laughed. "That's okay, most of what I know about lightning ball, I learned from Ayan. She's the one who taught me to use my elbows."
"If I was using my elbows, I'd be tempted to elbow the player next to me," Key thought aloud. She found Ayan's ability to play with one hand less impressive than her ability to hold her own against students six inches taller than herself.
Miriam smiled. "That would be cheating."
Key looked at the pitch. Seven students currently vied to keep the ball out of their wedge. "How do they decide who puts the ball in the air?" She knew official rules only covered games with teams.
"Sometimes they pass around the circle, but usually whoever got the point puts it back in the air. I don't think they're all that concerned with fairness. They just want to play"
"And the time?" Key glanced at the game clock, which, of course, wasn't running.
"They usually play until someone reaches five points. They call it Horse."
"I've never heard of that." Key thought for a moment. "I bet Mat has."
"I didn't think he liked lightning ball."
Key chuckled. "Not to play, maybe, but Mat liked just about anything he can read a book on... except, perhaps, firearms."
Miriam cocked her head as she did sometimes when she heard a lie, though Key hadn't told one. Then she said, "You and your brother are really close, aren't you?"
The ball fell into on of the player's wedges and a collective shout came from the circle. Ayan scooped up the ball as the others left the pitch. "Yeah," Key told Miriam as Ayan walked toward them, "We really are."
