“It sounds like your uncle truly believes in you and your talent.” Teselin commented with a soft smile. “But I highly doubt that he expects you to be an exact double of him when it comes to art. After all, art is such a personal thing, isn’t it? It serves different purposes for different people. Surely he would respect that. Has he ever asked you why you destroy everything you create? Or has he not noticed, because he never has a chance to see what you are creating?”
It seemed as though she had misunderstood Nico’s intent for destroying his work. Having assumed he got rid of it because he didn’t want his uncle to notice the deviation of his taste compared to Ari’s, she now realized, through his explanation, that it was all part of the process to him. Create to destroy so that one could create again. While there was something undeniably morbid about it all, somehow it did carry its own logic. And the fact he destroyed as prolifically as he created did not seem to bother him, or plunge him into despair that he had so little to show for his own, personal art. On the contrary, he seemed to view it in an entirely different light compared to the rest of the world. Nico was far different from the rest of his family, it seemed, but she wondered how open the Canaverises would be if he did dare to be his truest self around them. Is this why he’d sought her out? One misunderstood person to another? The way he glanced at her, and so carefully chose his words, she wondered if he was trying to draw a parallel between his art and her. If only her destruction was as innocent as his…
“I would like that.” The young summoner said, without any hesitation. “To see your art, sometime. To see what you create. I’m flattered that you would trust me to lay eyes on it. Who knows--maybe spending more time around artists will help me develop some talent, myself.” She didn’t realize, until the words were out of her mouth, that she’d essentially confessed she wanted to see him again. That she didn’t want today, this festival, to be some one-off excursion from the otherwise chaos of her life. Nico had seen what she could do, what she was capable of: and he still liked her. Not even in spite of her chaos, but including it. Not that she would ever consider removing that magic-repressing manacle hidden under her sleeve, even in his accepting presence. That he wasn’t afraid of her was no good reason to put him in danger. But for all he knew, she could have been lying, and her magic could have been free… yet he took her at her word, when his sister had chosen to shrink away with fear. Had she been trying to befriend the wrong Canaveris all along…?
Sadly, that moment was interrupted all too prematurely, and she found herself hurrying away before anyone else could recognize her (or recognize her company and judge him accordingly--or, worse, alert Ari.) She’d never grown particularly winded from sprinting before, but as soon as they were in the clear and surrounded by an entirely different crowd, Teselin found she could barely catch her breath, and even the perspiration on her skin did not cool her with the relentless rays of the sun heating her up from the outside, as that small bout of physical activity heated her from the inside. “Sorry… I’m… alright. Just a little out of shape, I guess…” She explained between panting breaths.
When he offered a means of getting away from the crowd as well as the unforgiving sun, the Kristeva girl couldn’t agree fast enough. That was exactly what she needed… Maybe after cooling off for a bit, and once the crowds died down, they could safely venture aboveground to take in the sounds and sights of the solstice celebration. “That would be lovely. The sun today is hotter than I’d expected.” They fell into a more casual pace, both to accommodate her exhaustion and so as not to look particularly suspicious to the surrounding people, and it surprised her that Nico didn’t even need to think twice before refuting her concerns for being seen in her presence.
“I’m not sure that not revoking my invitation as a guest means that I am welcome…” She couldn’t help but argue. No doubt that if Ari caught sight of her, while he might not make a scene of throwing her out of the settlement, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t send someone in his service to escort her off the grounds. “But… thank you. For… well, I guess, just being around. I honestly didn’t expect your sister to accept my apology, and I’d anticipated leaving as soon as I arrived, but I… I’d really hoped otherwise. Even harbingers of destructive chaos enjoy a low-key celebration from time to time.” The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. “And I’m sure there would be plenty for me to see on my own, I’m… well, I’ve already spent a fair share of wandering this world all by myself. Today, I think… I really needed something different.”
What went unsaid, but was heavily implied, was the young summoner’s desire--no, her need for belonging. Just one day, where she was willing to suffer a little for the sake of suppressing her magic, she wanted to feel like she could actually be a part of the world around her, and do what a normal girl her age would do, without worrying about what might next trigger her power to incite disaster. And then… had Nico called her beautiful? Even with the pale hair and pale eyes that looked strange with her complexion? Did he mean it, or was it just more Canaveris prose?
She would never know--or at least, she wouldn’t find out in that moment, as her carefree day with Ari’s esteemed nephew drew to an abrupt halt the moment they encountered the Canaveris lord, himself. Immediately, Teselin did her darndest to hide beneath the wide brim of her hat. She didn’t dare say anything, not even when Nico couldn’t come up with a better alias than ‘Buttercup’, but even if she’d wanted to speak up, to try and convince Ari she wasn’t a danger to his nephew, she didn’t have the chance. Ari whisked Nico away for whatever task he was required for, and his nephew had the good sense not to argue. He must know who I am; Nico didn’t have anything on his schedule, today. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent all this time, meandering with me…
Teselin was helpless but to look on, hands clasped nervously in front of her, as Nico took his leave. Well… perhaps she had no choice but to enjoy today, alone. At the very least, she didn’t have to worry about her magic: while it would have been more fun to share today with someone else, that didn’t mean her prospects to experience life through the eyes of someone without magic had evaporated, did it?
Immediately, her thoughts jumped back to her previous comment: that just because Ari hadn’t revoked her invitation as a guest did not mean she was welcome, here. For all she knew, he would soon send someone to evict her from the settlement… perhaps it was best just to cut her losses and return to the palace. After all, she’d told Hadwin she wouldn’t be long…
The stables her located exactly opposite of where she currently stood, so the trek to retrace her steps was long and arduous in the sweltering sun, and by the time she arrived (which felt like an eternity later), she noted the horse upon which she had arrived was missing, and the stables were completely empty, save for the stablehand who tidied up the vicinity.
“E-excuse me…” Teselin asked in a small, breathless voice. She felt as though she’d been sprinting again. “Are… there really no horses available right now?”
“Nope, not a one. The settlement shares steeds and mares with the stables up at the palace; but all two dozen or so should be returned come nightfall, once they can get ‘em back at the speed of light. Lots of D’Marians wanted to see what was happening up near the palace, today. Hey…” The young man, who must have only been in his twenties, furrowed his brows in concern and steadied the broom in his hand. “You alright, there? Need some water? It’s sweltering out there, today.”
Teselin didn’t hesitate to nod. She was dizzy and weak; maybe it was the dehydration. “Yes… please.”
The concerned stablehand crossed to the other side of the empty stables where he poured water from a decanter into an empty cup, and handed it to her on his return. Teselin couldn’t down the cool liquid fast enough; she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she felt it cool her from the inside. But she didn’t want to seem too desperate (nor veer to close) to the stablehand, lest he recognize her, and hastily handed him the empty cup. “Thank you… I’ll check back later.”
Before he could say another word, the young summoner left and disappeared back into the crowd. With her way back to the palace temporarily unavailable, there was no reason to not take in the sights and sounds while she was waiting, was there? For the next little while (she has lost sense of the passage of time pretty quickly), Teselin watched performers from a distance, taking care to keep her head down and to keep towards the very back of the crowds. While it was thrilling, every performer talented and contributing to what was every bit a celebration, Teselin couldn’t shake the heaviness in her heart. This wasn’t something she had wanted to experience alone; it made it rather difficult to enjoy when you couldn’t get past the feeling that something was missing.
Sometime, during what must have been the late afternoon, her fragile hope flared when she spotted an unexpected friendly face. “Nico--how did you get away from your uncle? I thought I wouldn’t see you again today…” She beamed a smile and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands--and then he was gone. Or, rather, he had never been there to begin with. Was she… really hallucinating? Was she so desperate for connection that she was now imagining people she wanted to see?
Perhaps it was time to get out of the sun.
Leaving the scene of the settlement’s center behind, Teselin all but dragged her tired, sore body well away from the crowds, and toward the grassy knoll bordering one of the forests which confined the D’Marian settlement. There was shade, there were no people… and it was safe to collapse--literally. Teselin’s headache had grown too big to ignore, and her knees unbearably weak; once she found herself on the ground, she knew there was no getting up. Her arm throbbed, and with no one around, she came so close to removing that Mollengardian cuff around her bicep, but a voice at the back of her mind cautioned her otherwise. Don’t ruin a good thing; one day’s reprieve from worrying about magic…
And… it had been a good day, at least for a little while. Ultimately, it had been worth it; short, but worth that brief hour or so that she’d spent with someone who wasn’t afraid of her, but who saw and respected her and all that she was, both the good and the bad. Teselin plucked the buttercup Nico had tucked into the ribbon of her hat and twirled it between her fingers. “Buttercup… what a ridiculous name, Nico. What were you thinking…” She mused aloud and, cushioned by the cool grass, closed her eyes. She’d rest for now… and when she woke up, surely it would be nightfall, at which point the night steeds would be returning. She’d go back to the palace, and apologize profusely to Hadwin for taking so long.
Except that when Teselin drifted off into a fever-induced sleep, she did not wake up.
“Defend you?” Sigrid raised her eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Not at all; you did well defending yourself. With fangs like yours, you don’t need a used-to-be Dawn Warrior to defend you. I was just making sure the man running that ridiculous game stuck to his own rules… or lack thereof, it seemed. But this?” She motioned to the boar, which--she couldn’t lie--was making her mouth water. “It’s all you. But, well, it is your win. So if you’re not feeling particularly charitable, given that Hadwin little threw the both of us into that masquerade with no out… well, that’s your prerogative, and like hell am I going to stop you.”
Nonetheless, Bronwyn gave her the honours of carving the boar, which, if it wasn’t done already, would soon be. Taking the long fork and knife from the bucket, the blonde warrior cut deep into the flank to ascertain readiness. It appeared to still be a bit pink on the inside, but… this was Bronwyn’s prize. She knew the faoladh woman could handle it, and wasn’t about to make her wait any longer. “Here; why don’t you get a head start. I’d say you deserve it.” She cut off a few hearty slices of juicy meat which weren’t done quite enough for human liking, but for Bronwyn, it wouldn’t be a problem. Sigrid handed her the plate and some utensils, but made a point to add, “I won’t judge you if you’d rather not use a fork or knife. I’m sure at my hungeriest, I’ve decided to forego table manners and just use my hands.”
Sigrid’s hands stalled in lowering the carving knife back into the bucket when the faoladh woman suddenly made an offer that took her off guard: You can come with me, you know. The blonde warrior couldn’t find words for a good moment, unsure of how to respond, or… of what she wanted. Bronwyn had a point: Haraldur and Vega were not making a home in Galeyn. With locque gone, they would soon be bound for Vega’s home kingdom again, as Eyraille was probably eagerly awaiting the return of its princess and her prince, and the two royal children who would be a year old in the fall. But Eyraille was not Sigrid’s home: Braighdath had always been… because of the Dawn Warriors. A membership that she had rescinded, and while she knew that Roen would welcome her back with open arms if ever she was ready, she wasn’t sure that was what she wanted, either. What do I want? What future can a once-warrior like me possibly have? When Naimah had been alive, and when she had determined to spend her future with the Kariji woman, she’d have left it entirely up to her where they went or settled, if they settled anywhere at all. Evidently, making decisions about her own future wasn’t something that Sigrid was particularly good at.
“I suppose… you’re right. Haraldur wouldn’t expect me to follow them wherever they go simply because I accepted guardianship of his daughter as a token. Alster and Elespeth have token guardianship of their son, but their life and responsibilities are also separate from that of what awaits my cousin and his wife back in Eyraille. I have no obligation to Galeyn or to Braighdath since I gave up my place among the Dawn Warriors. For the first time in my life… I guess I have no real ties.” A shade of sadness crept into her voice as Sigrid looked off into the distance at nothing in particular. “When I left Galeyn last fall, shortly after the twins were born, I had no destination in mind. I guess I was trying to run away from my pain, but traveling alone… that had never been my desire. So if you don’t mind the company…” The blonde warrior stopped staring off into space and turned to fix her azure eyes on the she-wolf. “Can’t say I have any better plans. Maybe… I’ll take you up on the offer. But… what about Hadwin?”
She couldn’t help but pose the question, because while neither of them might have realized it, the brother and sister were rather… good for each other. Even if Hadwin was an infuriating shithead on the best of days, he did have his heart in the right place (most of the time), and had it not been for his interference, Sigrid wasn’t sure that she and Bronwyn would’ve developed this friendship, considering the former Dawn Warrior’s introverted nature, and the fact that she had been hurting for so long. However, it was also safe to assume that Hadwin would only go wherever Teselin went, and if Sigrid knew anything for certain, it was that Bronwyn absolutely could not keep the company of the young summoner. Not when she was a beacon for disaster, and triggered the faoladh woman’s fear with each and every incited disaster…
It did make sense: scheduling this wedding directly after the masquerade would have had Ari thinking that Chara was trying to overshadow all of the Canaveris lord’s hard work. And it was definitely on Nia for not having thought about that before. And perhaps she had acted too soon in thinking they could pull off this event today, but as far as culpability went, that was about as much as she could lay claim to, for everything else that Chara had to say--while it all logistically made sense--was quite literally the first time she was hearing any of this.
“Of course. A private meeting between you, and Lilica, and Ari. Obviously, I wasn’t there, because I’m still a goddamn prisoner. So then tell me: whose job was it to let me in the know about all of these details?” The Master Alchemist rubbed her temples and exhaled her frustration slowly. “Think what you will of me: maybe I was hasty, but this information, Chara? This is new to me. And it shouldn’t be new to me--this was my idea! Goddamn…”
Throwing her head back, Nia took a steadying breath to regain her composure. “I think you know that the last thing I want to do is sabotage Ari. I want him to move on. I want him to refocus his attention elsewhere; I don’t want him to wallow when he can make a great impression at another event. But at this point--maybe I should just leave it all alone. Leave this wedding to you, since you’re the expert planner. Leave Ari to pick himself back up whenever and however he sees fit. Fuck, I’ve been on the run all my life, and I’ve never felt so tired as I do now.” And why hadn’t Ari told her she was being foolish to rush out and try to make this happen today? Certainly, he had seemed shocked, but she’d chalked it up to his sense of defeat… and that he would not deny her anything. Not even a rush-wedding for a couple of friends. If only he’d told her what Chara was telling her now, that everything had been planned for another day, that the details were already worked out--hells, that she wasn’t needed, and she’d have listened.
Nia stood up slowly from the couch where she had all but collapsed and crossed to a window, where people in the town square not too far off were engaged in a merry street dance: no costumes or finery, just music and joy. “You know what? You’re right. I’m not an expert planner. I’m not a planner at all. But where you’re wrong is in assuming I’m all about this to exonerate myself. You're wrong about me wanting to ‘fix’ Ari. There is absolutely nothing about him to fix, aside from that goddamn curse. And there is absolutely nothing I can do, no amount of lives I can save, or people I can help, to exonerate myself in Galeyn’s eyes. If you really thought I wanted to spearhead all of this because I’m trying to colour myself as some saviour--then you really know shit all about me.” The Ardane woman turned her back to the window and spread her arms helplessly. “I wanted this because I wanted to do a solid for a friend who saw the good in me when no one else aside from Ari and Hadwin would. Alster’s a good guy: the least he deserves is the wedding of his dreams with the woman he loves. And--however stupidly--I wanted it to be today before everyone, Ari included, had a chance to wallow after last night’s disaster. I try to show the bright side because it’s all that got me through the majority of my life, and I want everyone else to see there’s always something to look forward to. Always something bright around the corner. But that doesn’t mean I don’t take into account what else might be lurking around corners. And with the necromancer’s return, I assure you, the bastard attracts chaos. No--he fucking invites it, and now that he’s back in our lives, you can expect that last night won’t be the last disaster that this little festival sees. So hang me… I wanted something to go right before it happens. Because I guarantee, it will. And why your esteemed Lady and Lover doesn’t kick his ass out of here and ward the kingdom against him the way their mutual father did… well, whatever. I guess it’s none of my fucking business, yeah? I’m still a prisoner; why listen to what I have to say.”
The Master Alchemist raked her hands through her hair. The tremors in her fingers had returned, since the disaster the other night; Ari was fortunately too distraught with his own feelings to notice. “It’s daylight. I spent hours on a horse in the heat to come here. I’m gonna go spend another several hours in the heat going back… and then I’m done. You’ve obviously got the wedding under control, that’s your jurisdiction. Ari will do his part because he’d never let anyone down, no matter how he’s feeling. Consider this in the hands of the experts. And if Vitali Kristeva sees fit to raise the dead to crash the wedding because he’s too miserable to see anyone else happy? Then I don’t need to say I told you so. If you don’t think he knows about it, then ask yourself how the hell he knew about the masquerade. Fuck…” Nia made her way back towards the door and leaned against the frame. “You know what? Drunk sounds like a damn appealing idea right now. Wouldn’t be expensive considering my tolerance at this point is probably shit. You want me to succeed? Well I promise you, I will succeed in giving Ari the life and uncomplicated existence he deserves… but right now, I’m going to get drunk before I just mentally shut down. But hey--enjoy the festivities!” She vaguely gestured to the window from which she’d moved away. “Looks like everyone’s having a grand ‘ol time at that street dance. When you’re done with all your master planning, why not go and be a part of the fun? You’re a hard and meticulous worker. Don’t pretend like you don’t deserve it.”
Despite her words, Nia’s voice was completely devoid of derision as she left. She had nothing against the Rigas woman; she meant what she said. But contrary to that tiny surge of hope she’d felt upon waking that morning, Nia now joined Ari in the pits of defeat, with no more optimistic rays of light left to offer.
“Frankly, I assumed Ari would inform you of our collective decision, but I suppose with the innumerable responsibilities he has assumed this past handful of days, float-building and masquerade-planning chief among them, that little detail must have slipped his mind.” It wasn’t like Chara to defend Ari, absent of the obligatory snarky comment or two, but since enduring their disdainful dance from last night, she was learning to dial back her exaggerated contempt for the Canaveris lord. He was, after all, correct; perpetuating hostility was a twisted form of penance that only served to harm both parties, the wronged and the wrongdoer, and delayed healing. By extension, her restructured, more productive methods of earning forgiveness included, unfortunately, Nia Ardane. She didn’t have to show civility, but an attempt at tolerance would suffice, for now. Keeping this diplomatic promise in mind, she schooled her face into polite indifference as the Ardane woman proceeded to lose her shit in her chambers. Short of scoffing aloud and throwing out some indecorous remark, as she did just earlier, this was an improvement of the highest order.
“You will find that Ari does not wallow for long. He cannot afford to wallow. It is against his code as a Canaveris and he is infuriatingly meticulous about his oaths and honor. As previously established, he is actively doing his part for the ceremony, and has been throughout this week. So I say to you again; slow down, if for your own health. I shouldn’t infer the reasons behind your manic behavior. They really aren’t my business, anyhow.” It was the closest to an apology she dared utter around someone she openly disliked. “But I stand by my assessment. You race too far and too fast and you are bound to stumble. That is all I will say on the matter. As for your outlook on life, I am sure you understand why Ari took such a liking to you, and it is because your philosophies and his philosophies intertwine. Call him Mister Brightside for how often he beams his annoying sun rays into your face. Yet, even he, like you, especially you,” she lifted an arch eyebrow at the fidgeting woman dashing around the room like a fly trapped in a jar, “is subject to moods. Allow him to have them without forcing positivity down his gullet. Heavens know he is subjected to that unsustainable Canaveris rhetoric on a daily basis. You cannot imagine how relieving it is for him to shed that persona around a trusted individual. I know so, because I was once that trusted individual.” She, too, found her eyes on the window, but for different reasons. It helped to have a clear view of something jovial and uplifting happening beyond the miasma that threatened to fog her vision with the still-fresh memory of the impervious, emotionally-repressed Aristide Canaveris confessing his ‘worst’ sins while in her company. Sometimes, I welcome the rain, he’d admitted, on a day where intense cloud cover forecasted heavy precipitation. When it pours, I like to stand outside in it until I feel the raindrops on my face, running down my cheeks without relent. It is the only time where I can experience the sensation of crying without committing to the tears. I know that I am borrowing the pain, borrowing the sadness, but I cannot have access to my own, so I steal them from the sky.
It’s because you’re not human, Chara cruelly had turned those words around on him, during his crucial moment of vulnerability. Stone can’t cry; it can only crack and crumble. Is that what you want? To crumble?
For once, Chara was thankful for Nia’s scathing remarks relating to everyone’s favorite necromancer, as they rerouted her attention on far more pressing and productive matters; namely, badmouthing that slimy, sentient bag of bones. Yet in another shocking twist for her, Chara approached the subject of Vitali from a…not altogether unflattering angle. Was she in the mood for contrariness, today, or did the events from last night unscrew her neck from her head? Or, worse yet, did Alster get into her brain and rearrange the place without her permission?
“I think you’re giving Vitali a little too much prestige as some evil puppetmaster, intent on scourging the land with his army of the dead.” Don’t make me regret this, Vitali, Chara ground her teeth as she continued. “That is most certainly not his style. Too much panache and not enough reward for the effort. Coming from someone who has dealt with him a mite longer than you, the contemptible necromancer is not one to attract chaos; rather, he benefits from chaos, and pain, and desperation, in order to turn a profit. He does not create the scenario, but he sure as hell will charge interest for his part in clearing it. He is a leech, a vulture, circling over his already injured and helpless prey, patient and assured of his meal. A scavenger he is, but not a predator. Speaking of—and I hate to say it because I actually owe the bastard my life—it’s the mongrel who most concerns me. He and Teselin, both. They feed on each other, for better or worse, but when it’s worse, it is at an unprecedented scale.”
Too jittery to remain seated, herself, Chara stood and bounded across the room in search of the water decanter. As a rule, she didn’t keep wine in her quarters for fear of becoming over-reliant on the intoxicating beverage, especially during the height of Locque’s reign, so somehow, she subsisted on only water. Raising a filled glass to her lips, she took a swig as if it were cheap, pub-grade swill, all while wishing for the alternative: actual wine. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, here, let’s focus on the facts. Teselin caused the explosion. Vitali’s literal reemergence from the dead had certainly pushed her over the edge, but he was not the sole variable involved. That courtesy belongs to the irascible faoladh everyone either loves to hate or hates to love. Alster gave me a vague, impartial account, saying how the mutt’s madness acted up and caused her a significant amount of distress—and it all snowballed from there. Other elements are at play, and they all equally deserve investigation before we go about banishing people from the kingdom all willy-nilly because they deigned to show up not dead. Rest assured, Vitali is detained and will remain detained for his involvement as a member of Locque’s coterie–however much he claims his loyalties were to the crown.”
“On that note, I shall say this only once.” She turned from the water decanter and delivered Nia a stare cold enough to break glass. Oh did she attempt patience and diplomacy, but her indulgences dried in her veins the moment Nia mentioned Lilica in a less than flattering context. “Kindly direct your vituperation away from my ‘esteemed Lady and Lover,’ or I shall view this remark as an act of treason. And do follow your own advice. Leave the politics to the ones in charge, and perhaps then, we will be more inviting—and trusting—of your opinions. It is too soon for us to forget, Ardane, the role you played in abetting the witch’s rise to power, and the damage she inflicted upon this kingdom is arguably worse than the accumulated crimes of Vitali Kristeva. Your scruples with the necromancer are your own. Now good day,” she waved Nia towards the door. “I will be certain to mention to Alster and Elespeth that the ceremony was your idea so that you may bask in one hundred percent of the credit. We are done here; enjoy the festivities on my behalf.” Her painted lips pulled into an austere frown. “Some of us have work to do cleaning up the pieces of the kingdom you and your esteemed Lady have shattered underfoot. Be mindful of your own chaos, Ardane.”
Something about watching Sigrid position the carving knife and fork in her hand and slice into the boar’s flesh with a practiced, sawing exactitude stirred in Bronwyn a rather…visceral reaction. Apparently, she was even hungrier than she thought, to linger in a fixated trance on the warrior’s hands, and the meat she rent open, and the aromatic smells airing out of the carcass like a freshly bloomed flower. So transfixed on the process, she hadn’t noticed that Sigrid spoke until she blinked and looked down at the plate offered to her. Three generous slabs of boar meat awaited her consumption, steaming and pinkened perfectly in the middle. However much she yearned to dig in right away, she tempered the urge, instead looking to her companion to see what she would do, first. When it occurred that Sigrid was also waiting for her to enjoy the feast she had “hunted” for them, confusion temporarily lined her brow. At her clan, she was among the last to eat, typically receiving the “shavings and bones,” as she before referenced in relation to what she would serve Hadwin. While she understood leaving the clan dissolved her need to follow a hierarchy (and being among the last far exceeded dead last, which, as the designated scapegoat, was a role her brother usually filled…until he left, and the onus fell on her), she couldn’t help but fall into old habits around people who carried authority…and who she respected. Sigrid happened to embody both roles, and so it became an unconscious automatic response to yield, follow, and obey someone considered as higher rank and of greater significance among friends and acquaintances in this region of the world.
Bronwyn worried on her lip. What was considered the most respectful course of action? To abstain from eating until Sigrid partook first, or to eat her share so her companion could cook the meat to her liking? The silly question formed on her lips before she thought it through: “Are you sure I should eat ahead of you? I mean,” she prodded the fire in earnest, blaming her fast-heating cheeks on the temperature and closeness to the flames, “it wouldn’t be right of me to scarf down all this food in front of you while you’re still waiting for yours to cook. It’d be rude, and my table matters as you know leave much to be desired. I definitely don’t want to be responsible for losing your appetite.”
Holding off for the time being, she set aside the incredible plate of meat on the log under the pretext of listening to Sigrid’s reply regarding her future goals post-Locque, and where she might go to secure a sense of belonging. Of course, it was not all pretext, because Bronwyn often wondered—hells, obsessively wondered—the same about her situation. “Well that makes two of us,” she laughed, gathering her hair into a bunch and rebinding it with the cord she had coiled around her wrist. “My only purpose in life has been to serve my father and serve the clan. Even when I traveled alone in search of…my sister,” she enunciated delicately, “I didn’t allow myself to take detours or to appreciate my surroundings, my mind was that dedicated to one and only one purpose. Now that I’m…unbound, for lack of a better term, I’d like to return to all those places I bypassed and view them in…a hedonistic gaze? The hell is wrong with me,” she muttered under her breath, dropping her hands into her lap in defeat. “I’m letting Hadwin’s wanton ways poison me. He’s a horrible influence, but he does have one good point. We might as well let loose while we still have the chance. I don’t know if that’s what you’re looking for in a traveling companion,” she gave a one-shouldered shrug, “but you can rest assured my version of hedonism, with the exception of that horrible night of drinking at the D’Marian settlement,” she shuddered at the memory, “is incredibly tame.”
Even while they partially explored the subject of her brother, Sigrid’s question invited Bronwyn to tilt her head in bemusement. “What about him? Do you actually want him to tag along?” She raised a skeptical brow, questioning, but not with any due seriousness, the blond warrior’s sanity. “All joking aside…I don’t know. It feels like I’m actually getting to know him for the first time, and yet, I still can’t get too close to him because,” she paused, but one could easily fill in the blanks. Because of Teselin. “But maybe that’s how it’ll always be, between us. It’s a little sister he wants, not a big sister. He’ll always choose her, and that’s fine. It really is. Not like I was ever there for him before, so I don’t have it in me to be shocked and appalled about his loyalties when he was never tied to blood and tradition in the first place. It’ll be hard to leave my remaining family behind, but as long as he’s stable, and content, and surrounded by people who can keep his nutty arse in line, more or less,” she smiled, but it carried little warmth; only wistfulness for a time never experienced, never shared, “we can cheer on each other from afar. I suppose the same can be said of you and your cousin, right?” The similitude of their situations didn’t always align perfectly, but she understood Sigrid had a compatible comparison in Haraldur Sorde, a relation from her childhood she hardly knew or remembered until recently, but who seemed out of reach, for the same reasons Hadwin seemed just shy of Bronwyn’s reach. Their paths had diverged, and they couldn’t figure out how to converge and walk the same road forward. And so the nostalgia set in. The nostalgia for a time never gained, which never could be gained. The what could have been, if the stars had aligned differently.
He tried to stay put, he really did, but after several hours of a Teselin no-show, Hadwin got too antsy to stick around indoors with fuck all to do but think about what could have happened out there. Maybe it was nothing; maybe it was the paranoia acting up, but it couldn’t hurt to ride out to the D’Marian village and check. Surely his presence couldn’t fuck things over that much if he just stuck his nose in and sniffed around a bit—unless Ari, in peak vendetta mode, was ready to sic his enormous golem on him in retaliation for kissing his sweet niece last night. That would definitely cause a stir, and if he caused a stir, Teselin would get caught up in his drama, and flip out, and…
Wait wait wait. He jumped out of bed, chasing out his runaway thoughts. She was wearing the Mollengardian manacle. It suppressed her magic, preventing her from unleashing hell on her immediate surroundings. Yes, that was all well and good, but…how long could she last under its stifling effects? …How long had it been?
Alright. Now it’s serious.
Renewed in a purpose fueled not by paranoia alone, Hadwin shifted back into human skin and threw on the same clothes from last night, his fancy ones he wore to the masquerade, left in a sprawl on the floor and rumpled from mishandling. He felt bad for their rough treatment, but it couldn’t be helped at this rate.
Luckily, the stables had an influx of night steeds available. It wouldn’t be a pleasant journey for a barely recovered bloke riding hard under the baking sun, but as long as he didn’t collapse and fall off the saddle, he’d hold it together just fine.
It took about an hour to get to the D’Marian village outskirts, and not a moment too soon on several counts. For one, he overestimated his endurance. The intolerable sun, coupled with the repetitive jostling movement of hooves, made him woozy something fierce. But even more important than the desire to slide off the steed, chug a waterskin, and throw himself into a lake to cool down, was the discovery his nose had made. Downwind, he smelled her, that unmistakable whiff of magic that burned his nose hairs even with her possession of the manacle tamping it down. Veering off road, Hadwin headed for the line of trees that acted as the D’Marian village’s natural delineation point, horse hooves clomping through dirt and grass.
Once reaching her place of reprieve, he dismounted, trying his best not to bowl over on his hands and knees and dry heave, but managing neither too well. The episode passed before long, and he righted himself to gulp replenishing streams of water into his gaping maw like a dumbass baby bird thinking its mam was a waterskin. But he was functioning a little better (more or less), and could take in the scene before him with a little more clarity. At first, he thought Teselin had fallen asleep. To the layperson, it would be the most logical and simple conclusion, considering how she’d slumped herself against the tree at an angle most advantageous for avoiding the sun. But Hadwin knew better than to think simple.
“Scamp, you awake?” Still, he did the whole song and dance, slapping her face and jostling her shoulder while his other hand gripped the manacle encircling her bicep and slid it free.
Except, the manacle did not slide off as planned. In fact, it wouldn’t budge at all, stuck as it was around an arm too swollen and inflamed to give way.
“Fuck.” No end of tugging and prying would prise the damn thing off, and he was bereft of resources. No oil, no clamps, no key (he checked her pockets), no healer to deflate the dangerous leavening of her arm and release the angry, metallic ring biting down into muscle and bone. Hells, no resonance stone to call for help!
“Dammit. Goddammit, Tes, are you asking me to rip off your fucking arm?!” His heightened senses caught the swift degradation of her heartbeat, once fluttering at a steady rhythm, now plummeting to a languorous drawl, fading, fading fast. How long did she have? Hours? Less?
“No. Nope, this isn’t happening to me again, you hear? I reject it!” Pure adrenaline shot him to his feet, and pure adrenaline hauled her into his arms. Hope was far from lost when they had a village breathing down their necks.
He was about to fling the unconscious Teselin atop his horse and gallop into the busy streets when approaching hooves stalled his work. From the main road, he could distinguish the distinct shape (and scent) of a woman he knew all too well.
“Nia!” Settling Teselin on the ground again, he threw his hands in the air, shouted, shouted some more, and stuck his fingers into his mouth to release a shrill, impossible to ignore, whistle. This seemed to do the trick, as she redirected from the road and eased her steed into a stop before them.
He didn’t waste a beat, crouching low beside Teselin and urging Nia to do the same. “See this manacle here?” He pointed to the embedded thing vising her arm into caterpillar segments. “I need it off. Now. Do your alchemy hokey-pokey thing or get help; I don’t care how you do it, but this thing is gonna kill Teselin if it doesn’t come off!”
Sigrid shook her head casually at Bronwyn’s concern for manners and politeness. It was rather… endearing, the way she worried about being perceived. Especially around Sigrid, who required nothing to be particularly impressed. “Bronwyn, I grew up predominantly around boys and men. You think they ever cared to wait for everyone to be at the table to eat?” The former Dawn Warrior chuckled at some private, fond memories that she would always hold dear. “Manners were never particularly emphasized in my own upbringing. When you’re hungry, you’re hungry, and you need to eat. Not to mention, your main dietary requirements have been so seldom accessible here in Galeyn--why wait when you need it now? I have the patience to let my share get a little browner. Rest assured, you’re not being rude.”
That seemed to be all the reassurance that the faoladh woman required. She bit into the rare meet with gusto, and frankly, Sigrid was… impressed. She had personally always been one to amaze a table full of men with how much she could put away. But the voracity of a hungry she-wolf was hard to contend with, even on Sigrid’s hungriest of days. She’d met her match in the amount of meat consumed in a handful of minutes; she had barely finished carving off a few more slices before Bronwyn had finished. “Hope you want seconds--and thirds, considering how much meat is on this beast. Even if we invite Hadiwn for a bite, we might still have to salt the remainder of the meat to store it for later consumption.”
As she went on to explain her intentions during travel, Sigrid found she could relate on such a deep level. Everything up until now had been determined for her, either by the Dawn Guard, or by an enchanted sword, or… but Locque. Finding herself free from any and all constraints and restrictions was frightening, to say the least. How was she to know if she was making a bad decision? And at this point… what did she really want from life? Happiness? To make a difference? To take up her sword again? “I think you’ve thought about the future far more than I have. I have no idea what I want in life at this point, let alone in a traveling companion, but… a little hedonism doesn’t sound like a bad start.” Sigrid smiled and put down the carving utensils as she let the boar continue to cook to the point where it would be safe for her to eat it. “And… you may be right about Hadwin. He and Teselin have found something in one another that they need in their lives. And it doesn’t mean he’s not still part of your pack; you can still be involved from afar. Just like Haraldur and I.” She let out a small sigh and folded her hands in her lap. “I won’t lie, I was jealous of Vega when I realized their relationship. I’d just found family, and… and that family had chosen another path. And a part of me gave up entirely once their children were born. I felt… like an extra, however irrational that seems. And then when Naimah…” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed. “...I felt like I had nothing. Haraldur had chosen his path; I couldn’t incorporate myself into his life when he had so much else going on. And that’s why I left. But I realize now how foolish that is. And that just because he is married with children does not mean we are any less family.
“So, if I’m being honest… I don’t know if I will wander aimlessly forever. I don’t know how long I can handle drifting without a purpose, but…” Her grin stretched to one side of her mouth. “I don’t think I am going to learn exactly what it is I want out of life as a free person unless I wander for a bit. And maybe engage in some hedonism, myself. If that’s the case, it certainly wouldn’t make sense for me to travel alone. After all… what am I going to do if I hunt an entire wild boar like this?” She indicated the beast roasting over the spit. “Certainly I can’t eat it all on my own. I’m going to need someone with an appetite that rivals mine to share it with.”
“If you want to call it treason, then you’re going to have to bring your consequences to more than just me.” It wasn’t a challenge Nia spoke, but a fact; and one that Chara would be hard-pressed to refute. “For one, if you want to hold me over the flames for my association with Locque, then what of the necromancer? At least I didn’t try to fucking deceive anyone; I never pretended to be someone I wasn’t, or that my motives were aligned elsewhere than where they were. I own what I did, and I am openly trying to make up for it, and what do I get? Trailed by fucking Forbanne wherever I go, and shut down when I try to contribute. And Vitali?” She motioned vaguely to the door. “He’s never seen the dungeon, here. And why? Because he gave some story about her martyrdom and how it helped lead to taking down Locque? Not only that--but you must know that I’m not the only person it doesn’t sit well with. You think Galeyn holds Vitali Kristeva in high regards? You think that Queen Lilica’s people would take kindly to knowing that, now that he’s come back from the dead, she is harbouring him safely within the walls of the palace? Where the fuck, may I ask, is his trial? Where is his death sentence, like I had to weather not so long ago? Do you think they’re too stupid to call out nepotism when they see it? Tell me,” the Master Alchemist expelled a slow breath from her lungs. “Had Vitali never died, but gone into hiding like I did when Locque was destroyed, would he have been held as equally accountable for all of the damage as me? Or was I always the perfect scapegoat?”
Nia didn’t have the tolerance to play nice anymore. It went beyond being left out of the loop for an event that she had really had her heart set on having a hand in organizing, if for no other reason than to show Alster and Elespeth that she harboured no hard feelings for past grievances. She genuinely felt they deserved something nice, but ultimately, was cast as too insignificant to know (or even contribute to) the details. “Forget it. Let this be a moment of glory for you and Ari. Why mention someone who wasn’t even involved in organizing the wedding?” She couldn’t help but mention bitterly. “I don’t need a pity credit, Chara. This is your domain--I get it. You and Ari are the experts. You don’t need to remind me that I’m not noteworthy enough to be a part of this; this kingdom has already confirmed that I’m less than nothing. Or, worse, only as good as my skills. Honestly, this is nothing I shouldn’t have expected. But if you are really more eager to throw the necromancer’s little sister to the gallows than the fiend himself…”
She didn’t even know how to finish that thought. Couldn’t fathom how Chara was rationalizing that Teselin was to blame, when Vitali was the catalyst. Was a dry forest to blame for catching fire when lightning strikes? Was a building to blame for crumbling when the earth beneath it shifts too drastically for it to remain stable? No one was going to argue that Teselin Kristeva was not dangerous. But no one blamed the trees for catching fire, or the house from crumbling. “Think what you will, do what you will, but here is something for your politics to consider. How will the public see it if Queen Lilica spares her half-brother over his half-sister, and Hadwin, at that, to whom she bears no relation? Be careful, Chara.” The Master Alchemist shook her head. “If not for anyone else’s sake, then for yours. And Lilica’s.”
Knowing better to remain where she wasn’t welcome (which was among most of the kingdom, at this point), Nia left without another word, ignoring the Forbanne guard standing in the hallway waiting for her. “I don’t suppose you’re gonna cut me a break and let me grab a drink anywhere, huh?” She asked without expecting an answer. The guy hadn’t even said anything when he’d followed her (by horse) all the way from the D’Marian settlement. Because, still, she couldn’t be trusted.
There was no shortage of spirits and ale beyond the palace, given the festivities and everyone's deep desire (or desperation) to feel joy--after Locque, and last night. Not everyone knew her face, and some who did wouldn’t care so long as she offered them coin in exchange for whatever alcoholic beverage they offered. She came very, very dangerously close to giving into her temptation to approach one of the pubs with a few attractive serving girls, pawning ale off on desperate men who were thirsty for more than just a good, cold drink… but just seconds before she approached, she couldn’t help but hear Isidor’s voice at the back of her mind. It was accompanied by the image of Ari’s disappointed face, and that was all it took to find her willpower. No… I made a promise. No alcohol. Not until Ari is no longer plagued by a curse.
“Don’t worry--you don’t have to tell on me for breaking the rules,” she sighed to the Forbanne soldier in tow. “Fuck it. Let’s just get back to the settlement. I think I’m done with celebrating when--let’s be honest, there’s nothing to celebrate.” Nia shook her head, and made her way back to the stables. There were benefits to having a silent guard who never spoke a word to her, either because he was ordered to, or because he didn’t feel like it. Sometimes it was fulfilling enough just to talk and voice her thoughts without expecting a response. “And if I so much as touch a drop of alcohol, I’ll probably be held in contempt of breaking the terms of my ‘freedom’--if you can call it that--or some other bullshit. Chara’s right: Ari’s got everything he sees fit under control. They don’t need me to contribute anything because it’ll just be perceived as stepping on toes. The palace will do whatever the hell it wants, and Vitali Kristeva will probably step in to fuck it all up for his own amusement--and then they’ll deny i ever warned them in the first place. And what the fuck was Chara thinking, suggesting Teselin is the problem, here? What’s the plan: kick that sweet young lady out of Galeyn because they’re afraid of her, just like what happened to Locque?” Locating her horse in the stables, she checked the security of the saddle before mounting. “Is this goddamn kingdom really that oblivious to history repeating itself?! Because if that’s the fucking case, I don’t want to be around when all hell breaks loose. Maybe I can talk to Ari about temporarily relocating the settlement elsewhere. I know they’ve worked hard on building what they have here in Galeyn, but this place won’t be safe for long is her Majesty Lilica is showing leniency to our most powerful enemies, and fucking over our most powerful allies.”
With her monologue out of her system, Nia took off on her horse for yet another long, hot trek back to the D’Marian settlement. Yesterday, she had been as excited for these little days of reprieve (where Elespeth was giving her a break from her grueling training); now, she just felt tired, and heavy, and with no inclination to contribute to an atmosphere that she no longer believed in. The one thing she’d wanted a hand in helping to organize just ended up to not be her place; that was heart-breaking enough. But realizing how much those in power were downplaying the return of the necromancer, and instead favouring the blame of his little sister, who had been understandably shaken by his return, and as such it resulted in a near-tragedy that she had never wanted. But Vitali had known--he must have known how it would affect that sweet, caring girl who wanted nothing more than to lead a simplistic and damage-free life that would likely never be possible for her. None of this sat well with Nia, and the more she ruminated, the more she began to wonder who her true friends and allies were.
That said, it didn’t help that she was reacting on an empty stomach (and her voracious appetite had returned, of late), nor did the heat of the sun beating down on her as she returned to the settlement, which was just as engaged with trite little festivities as the palace. Today--or the rest of it, at least--was officially a write-off. She’d go and tell Ari not to worry about her enthusiasm that morning, that the wedding wasn’t happening today (a fact he was already aware of), and would lay low until all of this was over. She’d already contributed her time and skills to the parade float; it isn’t as though they could accuse her of not doing a damned thing.
Nia’s horse galloped down the well-traveled roads, but as she approached the settlement, she veered the animal in an alternate direction. Her tolerance for merry-making had long since dissipated and so as to avoid galloping through the thoroughfare, she opted to take the back-door into the village, where no one would see her and she wouldn’t see him.
Except for someone who did see her, and recognize her, to the point where they were… waving her down? “Who in the… Hadwin?” Was something wrong? Wasn’t he supposed to be back at the palace? What could he possibly be doing here, on the outskirts of the D’Marian settlement?
It wasn’t long before she saw the limp form of a girl in his arms and realized she was happening upon an emergency.
“Hey--what’s going on? Who’s--” For a moment, the unconscious girl’s pale hair very nearly fooled her. But only for a moment. “Teselin? What’s wrong with her? Why has her hair changed?” Her hair was not the problem, she noticed very quickly, upon noticing the vice-like manacle squeezing her inflamed bicep. She didn’t need her alchemy to realize how dire the situation was as soon as she felt the temperature not only of Teselin’s skin, but of that manacle. It felt as though it had been sitting atop a hot stove; almost burning to the touch. She could only imagine what it was doing to the poor, unconscious summoner…
“I-I can’t… just melt it off.” Nia took a steadying breath and pushed her own sweaty hair behind her ears. “If I turn it to liquid, her skin might absorb it, and then we’re in some real shit. Before we do anything we need to get her somewhere more sterile and bring down her temperature. Ari’s got guest rooms.”
Without wasting any time, Nia got the summoner’s unconscious form on a horse, and rode at her horse’s full speed back to the villa, with Hadwin in tow. Minutes later, she dismounted, propped the small girl over her shoulder, and made for the entrance--where they were ‘greeted’ by Laz.
“Hey--we’ve got an emergency on our hands. Something’s wrong with Teselin; we need a room, and fast.” But her expectation that they could waltz in and deal with the situation was interrupted when the tall, intimidating golem woman insisted she needed to go and consult with Ari. “The hell, Laz? This is literally a fucking emergency. Do you really think Ari is gonna deny us?!”
All the same, they were made to wait as the loyal golem went and retrieved her master. Nia’s heart raced with both urgency and anger. What the fuck was going on? They hadn’t encountered this when they’d admitted Hadwin for emergency treatment. The sun hadn’t set, and they couldn’t risk making the trek all the way to the Night Garden in daylight, lest the young summoner not have that kind of time.
Fortunately, Ari was not far off, and hurried over, accompanied by Nico. “She needs help, Ari.” Nia insisted, sounding out of breath. “We need to get her to a room before I can help her--and we need to get some healers on hand. A Master Alchemist isn’t a doctor.”
But Ari… did he hesitate? The fact he was not ushering them in with the same urgency with which they resonated struck her as shocking and odd, especially considering Canaveris hospitality. Eyes wide and confused, she prompted, “Ari?”
At last, the Canaveris lord led them through the foyer and down a corridor with hurried steps. Nico still accompanied, and looked particularly concerned, himself. When they finally found an empty guest room, Nia--who had Elespeth to thank for her ability to carry young Teselin over her shoulder--lay the summoner upon the bed, and immediately plunged her hand into the decanter of cool water sitting next to the bed whilst laying her other hand upon the unconscious girl’s forehead. Within seconds, the water grew uncomfortably hot, but the drop in Teselin’s temperature was minimal. The Master Alchemist swore audibly and rolled up her sleeves.
“The manacle has to come off. I can’t turn it into liquid; I don’t know what that would do to her, especially if it’s already cut into her skin.” Taking a slow, steadying breath, she closed her eyes and tried to think. What could they do, short of severing her entire arm above the elbow? Upon opening her eyes, the Ardane woman took notice of an unlit candle sitting upon a shelf. An idea struck her.
“Give me that candle,” she said to whomever was listening. “There might be a way.”
When it was within her possession, Nia grabbed the wax cylinder and began to melt its composition: not to the point where it became liquid, but soft, and malleable. Then, with her other hand, she laid her fingers upon the manacle. That metal ring hurt to the touch and burned her fingers; and it took far longer than she would have liked, but sure enough, the metal began to melt into a putty as the wax in her other hand hardened like steel. She needed to transform it just enough to break it’s hold on the summoner’s arm… just over a third of it would do, and then they could yank it off.
She was right to have been concerned about the condition of Teselin’s arm, for as soon as enough of the manacle had turned to putty and was carefully removed, it became evident how it had bit into her skin through several, painful layers. Just as she’d suspected; and why she had requested the assistance of a healer.
“Ok… it’s off. It doesn’t feel as though any trace of it remains.” Nia nodded to the discarded, half-circle of what was left of the manacle on the floor. Whatever reaction it had had to Teselin’s magic had rendered it so hot that her own hands and fingers had burned and blistered and trembled with the pain. It was a damn good thing she hadn’t eaten today; funny, how things just seemed to work out. “She should recover now, right? Isn’t that what has happened in the past?” She turned to Hadwin, who had known Teselin the longest. And speaking of recovery, Nia didn’t realize how much she needed to sit down until she lowered herself to the floor to take the weight off of her trembling legs. “Why’d she do this? Do you know, Hadwin? Putting that thing on and then making the trek all the way here to… to what? And if she knew she was putting herself in danger, why was she wandering around alone? If she’d at least gone with someone, they could’ve gotten help before it amounted to this…” Was she trying to…? No. No, Teselin had not given up on life; she might have been struggling, but she had too much to live for--including Hadwin. This did not strike her as an attempt to end it. That brightly-coloured dress, the fact she must have had Isidor change her hair colour, the wide-brimmed hat they’d found next to her… it seemed to Nia that the summoner had only wanted to disappear into the crowd, unrecognized. There were quicker, easier ways to end your life; that wasn’t what Teselin had sought. Perhaps she’d sought to experience a day where she didn’t have to be herself. After what had happened last night… what if this was a desperate means to try to cope?
“...I wonder if we should seek out Alster.” Nia said, after a moment of thought. “In case she doesn’t recover quickly. Maybe this is something an ordinary healer can’t handle. Regardless… we need to do something about her arm.”
“Oh for the love of—!” Chara, like Nia, tired of her attempted niceties, slammed her hand on the counter upon which the water decanter rested. It quavered like clinking ice as she whipped around at Nia, her glare unleashed from the frost. “He. Is. Detained. Does the sumptuousness of his holding chambers anger you? Are you looking for fair treatment for crimes unequally committed? The truth is, Ardane, and Alster insists this is the case so you can bring it up with him if you’re so enraged by Queen Lilica’s ‘nepotism,’ he performed a generous deed for us, as is his claim, by implanting the key to destabilizing Gaolithe’s power and sacrificing himself to do so. He was a traitor to you and your esteemed Lady’s cause all along,” she sliced a cutting smile, ruby red against her mouth. “Now before you go on another fucking rampage and scream that he is deceiving us all, which I would then say is very Rowen Kavanagh of you,” her smile sharpened, “that is exactly why he is detained. His investigation will be launched in full after all Solstice festivities conclude. He earned a cushier room because I and Lilica trust Alster’s statement. After all, Vitali did implement Alster’s plan for Gaolithe’s destruction. No one is happy about his return, but we are dealing with his case as impartially as possible.”
“This comes to my second point,” she continued, surprised by her relative calm, however much it dripped with vitriol and barely-repressed rage. Why she even deigned to explain her and Lilica’s positions to an unhinged headcase who looked more ready for a long stint of rehabilitation over party-planning was anyone’s guess, but it helped not to have the scorned woman blabbing to any random Galeynian she encountered in the street about Lilica’s flawed policies in a revenge-borne scheme to discredit her. “We are not sending Teselin or Hadwin to the gallows, nor are we exiling them from Galeyn. Would you please for one minute calm your knee-jerk reactionary furor and listen instead of accusing us of prevaricating rhetoric, that would be wonderful.” Goodness, she thought, do I get this bad, too? “I merely said that Teselin, paired with Hadwin, poses a far more immediate danger than the likes of a detestable necromancer. Like it or not, this is fact. Teselin, through no fault of her own, is dangerous, and we wish to resolve this issue with care and understanding, not give her and her surrogate brother the toss!” A spit of that suppressed rage leaked out, sending her lips into quivers of indignity. Not again. She’d be damned to have another Elespeth on her case about the supposed unfair treatment of Teselin Kristeva. As such, she had absolutely no patience for accusations, let alone from an opinionated prisoner who felt entitled to every dribble of information about the crown and their ‘questionable’ decisions.
“Did you not hear me before? I owe the mongrel my life, and Teselin, my sincerest apologies for previous behaviors incurred.” She did not elaborate on what ‘previous behaviors’ meant, and would not for such a headache-inducing presence who, at this juncture, was worthy only of Ari’s and maybe Hadwin’s company, fractious and annoying as she was. “While we’re at it, why not oust Alster, as well? A man whose consciousness includes that of a cosmic beast of unfathomable power must qualify for receiving the boot, so to speak. The Thrice-Exiled Mage makes for an intriguing epithet, does it not?” She rolled her eyes, tone dripping with derision. “So please spare me your moralistic bullshit, Nia. You know none of our histories, and you do not inspire confidence to be informed of any goings-on in this kingdom, especially after today. Again, leave the politics to us, be grateful you still have a head, and begone from my sight.” She turned her back to Nia, and retreated to the window in a grand, cold dismissal. “Let Ari deal with you.”
With Sigrid’s permission, Bronwyn lifted her plate brimming with boar meat and tore through the contents, unleashing her hunger on the unfortunate target of her gnashing teeth. In her preoccupations, she’d forgotten to turn from Sigrid, allowing for an unshielded, in-plain-view of her sloppy table manners. While it wasn’t the first time Sigrid had seen Bronwyn devour meat with all the finesse of, well, a starving animal, it occurred to the she-wolf, somewhere, to show the least bit of restraint and modesty. No matter the number of assurances and allowances to ‘pig-out,’ it wasn’t an invitation to ram her face into the plate and unleash a chorus of loud and aggressive chewing sounds—which she did, shamelessly.
Reaching for a stack of clean cloths resting on the edge of the log on which she sat, Bronwyn wiped the gristle and hot juices from her face and hands, anticipating her need for a thorough scrub-down. “If this is a commonplace sight for you,” she gestured to herself, “then color me curious about your Dawn Guard brothers. You think I have a chance of whopping their arses in a friendly eating competition?” She grinned, and couldn’t help grinning all the way, canines fully exposed like some madwoman. Immediately, she withdrew the expression, wondering where in hell and creation that reaction came from, for she had never worn a look so open and…unrestrained. Fortunately, the subject matter transitioned to more contemplative and serious wonderings, granting her the ability to realign the hinges of her wildly-roaming jaw. It closed, and her lips with it, as she lent an ear to Sigrid’s…refreshingly compatible take on aimlessness, travel, and finding a renewed purpose in a life that granted few, if any, choices to discover the freedom, and the danger, of stepping outside one’s boundaries. Exhilarating as the feeling was steadily becoming, sometimes Bronwyn wondered if the familiar borders of her stultifying, but safe, clan had been protecting her from an uncomfortable truth that, now released from pack bonds and labeled a stray, she would soon come to realize, sooner rather than later. After all, every lone faoladh grappled with the throes of madness. Madness killed Rowen. Madness killed her mother, whose deviating antics identified her as a stray in everything but in name, and madness almost killed Hadwin. It was still trying to kill him, and maybe one day, it would succeed. …And come for her next.
“To be honest…I need structure. I need direction, a bearing, a mission, someone telling me what to do and when to do it. I suppose it’s not much different than a soldier following orders, but it’s what I’m accustomed to, and it’s eventually what I’ll need to find if I want any hope of not turning into a layabout bum like my brother,” she chuckled, electing for humor as it was world’s more preferable than the hollow terror of the unknown burning in her pit and whispering, ‘You’re next.’ “Though I realize it’s going to take a little surveying, a little trial and error, either from within or without, to figure it out. I can find something out there that satisfies my purpose, or I can find it through some epiphany that slaps me in the face upon waking up in the morning. Either way, it’s not something I’m keen on doing alone. And…I think you’re right.” Bronwyn swirled the plate in her hands, watching the red-stained puddles forming and separating, forming and separating. “You’ll always have a place in Haraldur’s life, considering how hard he fought to free you from that sword, and from your forced servitude. That isn’t the attitude of a person who wants nothing to do with you. And, while Hadwin isn’t one to say it out loud—in fact, he likes to claim the dead opposite—he likes having me around. Sometimes.”
Reassigning her attention to the boar rump and the sizeable chunk already hacked away and consumed, Bronwyn couldn’t help but bark out an amused laugh at Sigrid’s latest comment. “Excuse me. My appetite doesn’t rival yours. It exceeds yours. Unless,” she tilted her head towards the boar, the challenge in her eyes brightening, “you’d like to prove me wrong.”
The very important tasks Ari had Nico do amounted to cleaning brushes in the workshop and harvesting more marble from the ever-growing gouge in the crescent-shaped hill behind the villa. These chores, far from time-sensitive, could be achieved at any hour of the day, particularly after today’s festivities were done; yet, Ari continued to stress the importance of Nico’s travails, explaining the necessity of replenishing their dwindling art supplies for the upcoming surprise re-marriage of Alster and Elespeth Rigas, which may or may not take place that very evening. Far be it for Nico to argue, seeing as how his uncle, too, was hustling along to complete these preparations posthaste in concert with his enlisted (forced) assistance, but he also found Ari’s whirl of busy-work a convenient excuse for ceasing any mention of the broad-hatted, wheat-haired girl whose name was most certainly not Buttercup (he still cringed from the memory, fresh in his mind). His uncle simply did not broach the subject at all, as if he viewed the girl at face value and noticed nothing strange or out of the ordinary. Just a commonplace citizen, most likely a visitor from central Galeyn. But Nico sensed an offness behind Ari’s pleasant indifference—a subtle twitching of the brow, the overcorrection of his already stiffening, but not stone-stiff, posture—that revealed his discomfiture. Ari did recognize her, Nico concluded, but could only guess what he aimed to do with this information. Would he write an official decree, banning her from the settlement? Send Laz to trail her movements from afar? Inform the palace that their liability had escaped?
The hours spanned, however, and Ari contacted no one else, save perhaps for Laz, who needn’t a resonance stone or an attendant for correspondence as long as the bonds of their psychic link held firm. They worked diligently together, nephew and uncle, opening up a precious window of quality time Nico always yearned to receive since the Ardane bitch stepped into his life and dominated his attention. Yet, that longed-for block of quality time became awkward, stilted, and unearned, more a punishment for cavorting with Teselin than a reward for his accomplishments and hard work. Silence created a draft between them, cold, uninviting, and so reminiscent of his distant and deceased father. The comparison left him both disheartened and disappointed, in himself and in his relationship with Ari. Why did he think his uncle would pick up the slack where his father failed, and love him as a son? Why was he expecting something different, and fulfilling, when love required a particular tenderness and vulnerability that Ari—much less any Canaveris—hesitated to show, in fear of fronting to the world a weakened and breached veneer? No…he doubted his uncle would ever care to see the true face of his art. The jagged rawness of his emotion and the depths of his bleeding darkness, splattered on a canvas, would only serve to alienate Ari even further, and encourage him to do little more than snatch the paintbrush from Nico’s trembling hands and banish him from ever producing art under the Canaveris name. Truly, he would be disowned, because to create his startling, unsettling paintings as an independent entity was to reject the financial backing and support of his family.
Teselin…she would accept my creations. If only one person can look upon my art and not flinch, or cower, or question my sanity and wellness, then…then that should be sufficient. That is all I need.
Just as he wondered if Teselin chose to enjoy the festival on her own, or chose to return to the palace, and if she recovered her constitution, Laz appeared at their workshop door, her tone urgent as she approached Ari and pulled him aside, presumably to deliver some unpalatable news. Though he relocated with her outside and out of earshot, Nico snuck behind them, catching the most relevant words. Unconscious…emergency…
Teselin.
Nico pursued close behind Laz and his uncle, ignoring orders to stay put. If something was wrong with Teselin, he needed to be there!
They hurried to the front door, and the scene revealed itself. Sure enough, the faux sandy-haired summoner was in the company of her wolf guardian, resting against the arms of…Nia?! Why was she with Teselin? He ignored the detestable Master Alchemist a moment, focusing only on the rolled-up sleeve of Teselin’s dress, and a silver…manacle? squeezing her bicep as if it aimed to burst open her alarmingly inflamed and bulging arm. Nico’s mouth flew open in shock. “What has happened? Of course! Let’s—“
But he stopped short when he glanced aside at Ari, who was certain to echo his sentiments and allow them entry…and finding that he had not spoken a word of permission. In fact, he had not said anything at all, his dark eyes examining, rapidly calculating, if admitting Teselin was worth the risk. “…Uncle Ari?”
“The hell, Ari?” The loudmouthed wolf-man stepped in, those knowing, fear-seeking golden eyes fulminating like two furious suns. “She’ll be too fucking weak to blow this place sky-high! And I’m too fucking preoccupied to be off kissing anyone, so let us through or you’ll be dealing with worse than a room full of busted windows!”
Whether or not the overt threat helped (or if he just didn’t want to cause a scene out in the open, in front of prying public eyes), Ari shook free of his unresponsiveness and inaction, nodded, and dashed inside. “Follow me.”
Once inside an available guestroom, Nia rested the weakened summoner on the bed, and Nico withheld his disdain as he watched the Master Alchemist tend to Teselin’s fever by transferring the heat into the water basin beside him, which felt close to steaming after mere moments.
Without a second thought, he responded to Nia’s instruction and snatched the requested candle off the shelf where he stood the closest, handing it over with no delay. Obedient and unquestioning…was he actually cooperating with the accursed woman? For all he knew, she might use this opportunity to melt not the manacle but the girl’s flesh into a macabre puddle on the bed. Nico glanced at the wolf-man, who seemed to have no outward compunctions in entrusting Nia with this procedure, and if he seemed assured…then Nico would have faith in the Ardane woman’s success.
It worked! The soft, pliable wax in Nia’s hand calcified into hard, glossy steel while the manacle buckled and became malleable, putty-like, and eventually came off with a gentle tug. The metallic half clanked as it hit the floor, and Teselin’s arm, though bearing its grisly imprint, was free of the offending object.
“So…” Nico was among the first to speak, “will she…recover?” He glanced at Nia, feeling unable to carry any resentment towards her at the moment.
“Yeah. No worries lad; she will.” It was Hadwin who responded, his whole demeanor shifting from feral to tame as he patted Teselin’s unhindered arm, his relief palpable. “Can’t say how long her recovery will be, though. I’ve never seen her get to the point of losing consciousness and having her arm blow up like this, so I guess it’s up to Al or whoever to assess and monitor her condition. But your other question I can answer without a dose of speculation.” He turned from the bed and studied Ari, who stayed close to the door, a cautious spectator. “She wanted to make amends to your sweet niece, Ari, for the argument they had last night, but she didn’t want to cause a stir or potentially ruin anyone’s good time with another accident, so she got our resident hermit crab to mask her appearance and she slipped on her Mollengardian-grade anti-magic manacle. She’s conscientious like that, as you all are pretty damn aware by now. Or should be,” he lifted a brow at Ari. “It was supposed to be a quick in and out, she said, and I figured I’d let her go and handle things alone so she could still have some agency over her situation. Hells, she was probably tired of having me breathing down her neck, but,” he clicked his tongue and shook his head, a shade of guilt haunting his eyes, “that’s on me. Should’ve insisted I come along.”
“I found her speaking with my sister in the hallway,” Nico admitted, also seeking Ari’s calm but rigid gaze. “And I…invited her to partake in some of the festivities. It is only proper and hospitable for a Canaveris to see well to their guests, and we have not yet denied her that right. I bought her a hat and we made merry for a while, but then,” he redirected his story to Nia and Hadwin, “I needed to depart prematurely for a prior engagement with my uncle that I’d forgotten about, and left her alone, I am ashamed to say.”
“Yeah, that’s a lie,” Hadwin snorted, but his ire wasn’t aimed at Nico. “That last bit, I mean. Getting your nephew to cover for your arse, huh, Ari? That’s a new low.” He tilted his head, and those fear-seeking eyes flared like sunbursts.
“I did no such thing,” Ari left his post by the door, indignation chipping the fine porcelain of his graceful and gracious mask. “Nico did not wish to implicate me, so he spun a minor falsehood to preserve my faultless image. Much though I appreciate your solidarity,” he acknowledged Nico with a grateful nod, “it will not be necessary. I am, indeed, not faultless, for it was I who spotted my nephew with who I perceived to be Miss Kristeva in disguise, and I took decisive action into separating them by requesting his aid for an important, all-day affair. Once we departed from Miss Kristeva’s company, I informed Laz to follow her in secret until she no longer remained within the boundaries of the D’Marian village. She left the border some hours ago, and we found it fruitless to persist, so I called off Laz’s surveillance. That is all. We certainly had no knowledge of this magic-siphoning manacle in her possession. Had we known, I assure you, I would have handled this matter differently. You have my humble apologies.” In humility, he swept into a courteous, self-effacing bow. “Now if you will excuse me,” he withdrew a resonance stone from the inside pocket of his coat, “I shall inform Lord Rigas that we require his immediate services. His uncanny magic will, I am sure, summon him to my doorstep in minutes. Rest-assured, Miss Kristeva will not suffer for long, especially under the watchful gaze of so many concerned parties. I shall return with Lord Rigas, shortly.” But before exiting the room, he passed Nico a pointed look, one urging him to follow. Wavering in his footsteps, he came to a dead halt when a sudden arm clamped atop his shoulders, sabotaging the attempt to accompany his uncle.
“Aw, why not stay a while?” Hadwin crooned into Nico’s ear. “Tes’ll love to see a fresh, friendly face when she wakes. I’m sure she’s plain sick of my ugly, old mug anyway.”
“I am afraid that would be inappropriate,” Ari frowned from his vantage point at the doorway. “In addition, there is much work yet to be done if we are to have a projected ceremony by tonight, and I require as many hands as possible, my nephew’s included.” At that, he laid his impassive eyes on Nia. “Have you and Lady Chara reached a consensus concerning the date? Depending on your response, I will adjust accordingly. Also,” he gestured to her red and blistered hands, a bit of sympathy bubbling to the surface, “Please have Lord Rigas tend to your hands, as well. Certainly, you deserve as much for your swift and immediate response.”
It would have been a bold-faced lie for Nia to claim that she hadn’t been somewhat taken aback by Ari’s hesitation when they’d approached him with the unconscious girl in her arms. Of all people to come to when someone was in desperate need of help, it hadn’t even been an interrupted thought to turn to the benevolent Canaveris lord, who never denied a guest anything--particularly not someone who was unconscious and whose life might have been in jeopardy. So when he didn’t grant her immediate entry with the young summoner unconscious in her arms, it struck her as completely out of character, and she might have given a thought to concern, were it not for how lackluster Ari had seemed that morning. Perhaps he had not snapped out of it yet; really, after last night, she couldn’t expect him to have bounced back so soon. That must have been it, because there was no way her Ari would reconsider offering a room to an unconscious young girl…
Truth be told, the Master Alchemist didn’t think much more of it after that point. The situation was far too tenuous, and Teselin’s well-being took priority over suspicions and overthinking. As soon as they entered the room and Nia was able to relieve herself of the summoner’s meager weight, the only thing on her mind was stabilizing Teselin and figuring out how the hell she could safely removed that damned manacle without causing further damage to Isidor’s little sister. When the idea with the candle finally struck her, she wasn’t even entirely sure that it would work. Manipulating the solid matter of enchanted objects had its risks, and they could not always be reliably transmuted into whatever else the alchemist desired. Frankly, this was a job that Isidor would have been better suited for, due to his interest and expertise where it came to metals, rocks, and ores, but they didn’t have time to send word to Teselin’s brother. If Nia couldn’t safely remove that manacle, then they would be shit out of luck, unless someone like Alster Rigas could drop what he was doing and make it down here in a flash (which, to be fair, was not at all beyond his scope of capabilities).
However, to Nia’s surprise, her tactic did yield success. Not without its own repercussions; Teselin’s arm was long since wounded from the bite of the magical object, raw and bloody where it had sat like a vice across her bicep, and the steel had grown so hot in the Master Alchemist’s endeavor to help that it had left her own hands burned and blistered. But the worst was over: Teselin was still unconscious, still feverish, but the threat to her life had been essentially eradicated. Now that all that was finally out of the way, Nia sat back on her heels, pressing her back to the wall, and tried to dissect exactly what had happened, and how Teselin had ever ended up in such a position.
Hadwin was quick to come forward with what he knew, and she didn’t detect a trace of a lie in his account of what had happened. Nor did she fault him for even a second. Teselin had requested that she take on this task alone; he’d seen fit to oblige her request, after what had happened last night. He hadn’t wanted her to feel as thought she couldn’t be trusted on her own to solve her own problems or make up for her own short-comings. Truthfully, had Nia been in the faoladh’s situation, she probably would have done exactly the same thing. And, it just so happened that when Teselin at had least first arrived in the D’Marian settlement that morning… she hadn’t been alone for the entire time.
“Oh… the girl I spotted you with earlier this morning.” She looked to Nico as realization dawned on her. “That was Teselin. I only caught a glimpse of the back of her head, and the pale hair fooled me.” Nia couldn’t help it; a small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “It looked to me like you two were having a good time out there. But I take it, that if Sylvie wasn’t in the mix… Teselin’s apology didn’t go so well?” The situation spoke for itself: if Sylvie Canaveris had been ready to forgive the young summoner for their small disagreement, on top of what had occurred the night before, then it would have been the two of them traversing the D’Marian settlement to partake in today’s celebratory festivities. Instead, Nia was willing to bet that what had happened last night was still too fresh in young Sylvie’s mind, and then Nico, for whatever reason, had decided to pick up the slack. For all Ari’s nephew got on her nerves for various reasons, she had to hand it to him for being a friend to a sad, young girl who’d desperately sought a modicum of normalcy in her life.
No, she hadn’t expected such a gesture from Nico Canaveris, of all people… but neither did she expect that the reason they’d eventually separated, the reason no one had been around to call for help when Teselin had lost consciousness, was also standing in that room.
“What do you mean?” The Master Alchemist turned to Hadwin, who suddenly interrupted with the accusation that Nico wasn’t being entirely truthful. “But I saw them together, Hads. Nico’s telling the truth.” Except, that wasn’t the implication that the faoladh was contesting, and Ari was quick to explain. As Nia listened, the corners of her grin gradually flattened. At first, she thought little of the fact that the Canaveris lord had called on his nephew to help tend to tasks related to a wedding which, in all fairness, was her fault for causing him to think that it might occur that very day. There was no reason for her to think that he had removed Nico because it had, specifically, been Teselin with whom he was keeping company… but then, it became clear that he had known it was Isidor’s younger sister, and that he’d sent Laz to keep an eye on her whereabouts, even after he’d separated her from Nico. But only for as long as she had remained within the settlement’s limits. Had Laz not suspected anything was wrong with the young summoner? Had she not shown any signs of distress or deterioration? She could hide the manacle under her sleeve, but surely no one wracked with the level of life-threatening complications that she had suffered could pass as ‘well’...
No--she had to be misunderstanding. There had to be something that she was missing, surely… “Hey, Nico,” Nia’s gaze veered toward Ari’s nephew. “How did Teselin seem when the two of you were together? Did you have any reason to think she might be unwell?”
The question seemed to strike an uncomfortable nerve in Nico, the way he fidgeted and pointedly avoided her gaze as he confessed she’d seemed a little winded and not up to her usual strength. He did state that given the heat of that sunny day, he’d simply assumed she’d gotten too much sun, and had actually been on the way to guide her somewhere cooler when his uncle had intercepted. Nia couldn’t blame Nico for ‘abandoning’ Teselin when it appeared that it had always been his intention to spend the day with her. Ari was both his caregiver and superior; he couldn’t turn his uncle down, especially not with all of his attachment insecurities and his desire to really be seen by his uncle.
No one was a fault here: this was an awful situation that might have been handled better had things gone differently. Yet… Ari was concerned for the well-being of the settlement. So he ensured the danger was removed, and once it was gone, he saw no reason to continue to monitor it.
“There is no wedding tonight, Ari.” Nia said as much with little to no inflection in her voice. She stared at the wall in front of her without really seeing it. “Chara made that clear. Evidently I wasn’t as privy to the fine details as I thought. But, whatever; I’m no longer involved in that event. So whatever you need to know, or whatever has to be done, that’s between you and Chara, now. Well, and Hadwin, who has yet to make the cake.” She angled her head in the direction of the faoladh, and she managed a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Hope you can get baking soon. Not sure how much longer these festivities are going to go on, but the queen’s lovely advisor seems to want it to take place at a ball. I didn’t even know there was going to be another ball. Regardless, there’s nothing more to prepare for today. So what’s so inappropriate in letting Nico stay?” She turned her head to look between the Canaveris lord and his nephew. “Teselin’s unconscious. And when she wakes up, she’s going to be weak and disoriented, and in no shape to repeat what happened last night. Not to mention--I’m not going anywhere. Not until she wakes up.”
Staring down at her blistered hands, the pain felt like an afterthought to the cognitive dissonance that was wreaking havoc on her mind. Ari was the kindest, most generous person she had ever come to know… until he was afraid, apparently. That was where he drew a line. “She put her life at risk, just to show up and apologize to your niece.” Nia sighed, staring at the remains of the partially-melted manacle. She had a feeling Teselin would be disappointed to learn that she wouldn’t be able to don it in the future. “Teselin Kristeva… isn’t your enemy.”
True to Ari’s prediction, Alster arrived at the Canaveris villa not long after Ari had called for him, explaining they had an emergency situation involving Vitali and Isidor’s little sister. Of course, all one had to do these days was utter Teselin’s name, and immediately, the situation would be given priority. Nia hadn’t moved from her spot on the floor when the Rigas mage stepped into the guest room, where the young summoner still lay unconscious, albeit stabilized. “Oh--hey. Perfect. Someone who has some inclination toward healing.” The Master Alchemist sighed in relief and slowly pushed herself to her feet. “Apparently she had that thing on since early this morning.” She nodded to the destroyed manacle that anyone had yet to pick up from the floor in its partially-melted condition. “Hadwin found her unconscious just outside of the settlement. She had a wicked fever… I drew it out of her, but she hasn’t stirred. And I’m not sure what sort of damage that manacle did to her arm.” Teselin’s arm had been hastily bandaged to keep the burned, bloodied flesh from becoming infected, but no one had dared to any more to her already fragile body until someone more qualified arrived.
“I wonder if Isidor knew why she asked him to change her hair and her eyes. I wonder if he even asked questions… does he know?” It was no secret that Alster and the kingdom’s preferred Master Alchemist were close, and shared information when it counted. “I considered contacting him, as well… but I didn’t know how he’d take it, or if he’d feel responsible. This was Tes’s decision. Although… although, it didn’t have to turn out like this. If she hadn’t been alone…”
Nia glanced across the room to Hadwin, who had also remained, reluctant to leave Teselin’s side. She could only imagine how he must have been feeling, knowing that he had obliged the young summoner’s request to go off and deal with this issue on her own. He was not at fault; had she been in his shoes, she might well have done the same thing. Insisting she be accompanied would only have indicated to her that she couldn’t be trusted to solve her own problems, lest something set her off again and another disaster occur. Obviously, Sylvie Canaveris had in no way been obligated to step out of her comfort zone for Teselin, but… had Nico not stepped up, where his sister had backed away, would the young summoner have cut her losses and safely returned to the palace? Or would she have continued to wander alone throughout the settlement?
Her eyes settled once again on the manacle she’d destroyed, something that Teselin had no doubt cherished as a ticket to temporary normalcy. Something told her this hadn’t just been about an apology. The young summoner had wanted to know what it was like to experience a day when she didn’t have to worry about what set her apart from the rest of the world. Among her worries, she did not want one of them to be whether or not she would set off another natural (or unnatural) disaster. Something about that resonated with Nia in a way that made her want to jump to the Kristeva girl’s defense. Hadn’t she also spent years during her travels where she’d wished she had been someone, something, different than what she was? What she wouldn’t have given to be an ordinary girl without runes on her hands that made her wanted by her own home. Unfortunately, while she could change her hair, her eyes, even her skin colour, it was impossible to conceal those runes save for keeping your hands gloved indefinitely, which tended to attract suspicion. Looking upon the unconscious girl, whose breathing and pulse had begun to grow steadier since breaking her fever and removing the manacle, Nia was reminded of a time when she had been exactly the same: someone feared, who had only wanted to be loved and accepted. Perhaps that was why she could not share in Ari and Chara’s opinions or fear of the summoner. Her empathy got in the way.
“...this world isn’t kind to the misfits and the outcasts. And not everyone can put together a traveling circus like the Missing Links.” Nia stared down at her hands. Somehow, all of this resonated with her like it was some kind of defeat that she needed to shoulder, despite that her involvement was exclusive to removing the manacle from the girl’s arm. “Some people will go as far as jeopardizing their health for a taste of what normalcy is. She must have weighed the costs and benefits and decided that it was worth the risk…”
The Master Alchemist gingerly rubbed at her blistered hands. A little specialized salve would do the trick practically overnight; Isidor might even whip some up for her when she told him those burns were a result of her saving his little sister’s life. But she couldn’t help but wonder about the damage done to Teselin’s arm, even if the young summoner regained consciousness and was otherwise fine. The manacle had burned and embedded deep; while Teselin Kristeva might have been other than human, she certainly bled the same way. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if you didn’t find her…” She said to Hadwin, who hadn’t left Teselin’s side. “She’s lucky to have you.”
So it had been the manacle that caused Teselin’s body to wreck so much havoc on herself. Nico cast his gaze downward, at the half-melted thing abandoned on the floor, no more useful than a junk trinket. He’d believed her when she told him and Sylvie that she’d found a means to nullify her magic for the time being, but hadn’t thought to inquire on the nature of the nullifier, or wonder what consequences prolonged use would inflict on the wearer. Rather, his simple and single-minded focus latched onto the euphoria of obtaining her company, and little else, try as he might to accommodate her needs as best as he could interpret them. But if she was able to withstand less than a half-day under the effects of her manacle, why didn’t she depart for the palace immediately after conveying her apology to Sylvie, instead of humoring him for a festive stroll around the settlement? Did she view this rare opportunity for a few hours’ normalcy as worth the risk? …Was he worth the risk? He hardly thought so, but if she saw fit to use him as a proxy in place of Sylvie, or as a keystone for unlocking the door to the joys of unrestrained, albeit fleeting, freedom, who was he to deny her these simple pleasures to which she assigned so much importance?
He froze when the wolf-man clamped an anchoring hand on his shoulder, less startled by the suddenness of his “pounce” and moreso by his endorsement. Was this wild man, Teselin’s fierce guardian, vouching for his and the summoner’s burgeoning friendship? Ari, however, did not see it this way at all.
“Wedding ceremony preparations aside, it would not be appropriate for a young man to remain in a young lady’s sick-chambers, regardless of the supervisory parties involved,” Ari stated, his disapproving look resting on Nico. “It is not a matter of trust or distrust; rather, it is seen as indecent and improper in this specific context. People will gossip. My decision is firm. Nico, you may take the rest of the day off to partake in the festivities outside.” His stern and stony features loosened into a smile. “Good work today.”
They were words Nico always yearned to hear, and he usually accepted them with pride for the accomplishments that earned him his uncle’s praise, but now, his reaction to them felt…mixed. Was Ari only uttering uninspired accolades in a bid to snuff out any thoughts of rebellion, protest, or complaint, and bind him into willingly obliging his commands?
“Well, tough break, kid,” Hadwin dropped his companionable arm from across Nico’s shoulders and side-stepped out of his immediate space. “We’ll just have to schedule an ‘appropriate’ time with Tes then, won’t we?” He raised a pointed, almost challenging look at Ari, who demurred from participating in a direct confrontation with Hadwin. Of course; because nothing about Ari was direct if it threatened and impacted his stolid image.
Instead, he tilted his head and answered, coolly. “If you are to begin baking your cake and have it prepared in time to present to our married couple, I imagine you would need to return to the palace posthaste.”
The wolf-man released an amused guffaw. “Is this fancypants speak for ‘Get the hell out of here?’ No can do, I’m afraid.” He folded his fingers over the gilt headboard over Teselin’s bed and pressed them firm, a non-verbal signal to express his staying power. If Ari wanted him gone, he would need to physically drag him out of the villa. “I gotta bake the cake fresh, besides, so I got time. Just need one full day before the event, and I already got the heads up on when it’ll be. But,” he tossed his head in Nia’s direction, “seems like you missed the memo. Or rather, it was kept from you entirely.”
“I will shoulder the responsibility; I should have informed you that we had chosen a definitive date and time, Nia,” Ari said, clasping his hands together in a contrite position. “Mister Kavanagh,” he swerved his head like an owl and landed again on the wolf-man for whom he hid no distaste, “you are welcome to stay at the villa for the duration of Miss Kristeva’s convalescence.” Afterward, you are no longer welcome, the unspoken context implied.
“And no young, impressionable visitors on my watch. That goes without saying, yeah?” He raised a curious brow. “Funny how you allowed your sweet niece to visit me, multiple times, yet won’t let your strapping young nephew do the same. But,” he dramatically threw his hands up in the air, “who am I to argue the unassailable and definitely not arbitrary rules of your fine establishment here?”
A furrow of something approaching anger appeared on Ari’s forehead. “I am not here to quibble, Mister Kavanagh, but if you must know, you are exactly the reason why I am reinforcing this rule. Do not overstep your guest privileges, again.” The warning was clear on his tongue: Do not test me or I will take decisive action.
But Hadwin, for whom threats slid off him like oil on a duck’s wing, shrugged dismissively and formed a gesture of understanding with his fingers. “Gotcha. Crystal clear on my end, fancypants.”
Calling Nico to his side, Ari was about to take his formal leave, but Nia’s final words seemed to give him pause. Nico looked over his shoulder, reassessing the Master Alchemist as she stood bathed in a different, more favorable sort of light. Could this woman be, dare he say, not as insufferable as he initially thought? At least, in terms of where they stood in matters involving Teselin?
Ari, to Nico’s surprise, lowered the porcelain sheen of his impenetrable mask and allowed his eyes to droop, his mouth to slacken, and his head to sink, as if in defeat. He glanced over at the unconscious girl on the bed and regret touched the dark spots in his irises. “You are correct. Teselin Kristeva is not my enemy. How would I possibly think that?” he said, genuine sadness sitting in his voice, twanging his vocal cords in minor key. “I bear her no malice, not at all; nor do I wish for any harm to come upon her. It has not escaped my attention the worrisome lengths she took to ensure she would not repeat last night’s incident. But you must understand. Teselin Kristeva may not be my enemy…but her magic is.” With that ominous note, he headed out the door, Nico slogging behind, no longer interested in attending the festivities outside. He would go the route of his sister…and stay within the confines of the villa.
Alster arrived soon after receiving Ari’s request through the resonance stone, his speedy transport, despite the full swing of day, an obvious indicator of his instantaneous method of travel. He swept inside Teselin’s chambers, bobbing his head in greeting, before immediately making for the unconscious summoner’s bedside. The first thing he did was check her forehead for lingering fever, followed by her vitals. He noted the blood-spotted bandages, but didn’t remove them yet. “Well, she’s stable, but you already knew that,” he said, giving his initial assessment and first impressions. “Her heartbeat is a little sluggish, but within normal parameters, and either her fever is cooling, or you’re regulating her temperature at frequent intervals,” he affirmed, glancing at Nia. “Whatever the case, it’s making a difference. I can also confirm no trace of the nullifying agent in Teselin’s bloodstream, so she has the all-clear on that front. Now, for her arm.” Frowning, he placed a hand over the bandage, ready to unfurl and inspect the damage for himself, but Nia’s question halted his progress temporarily.
“No, I don’t think Isidor knows. To be honest, I haven’t seen him all day. I checked up on him earlier, but didn’t get much of a response from him. Last night was…a lot,” he blew out a sigh, “for everyone, true, but for him, personally, so I thought it best to give him space. Knowing him, he will take to heart what happened to his sister. I think it’ll be better to inform him later today, when he’s had a little more time to rest and digest everything. At least then I can refer to Teselin's condition in the past tense.” Carefully, he unwound the bandage’s outer wrapping, holding Teselin’s arm steady. “Why was she out here, alone? Even if this was her decision, given what happened last night, and given the fact that she was wearing such a dangerous artifact, someone should have accompanied her just for the sake of monitoring her wellness levels. I mean, what’s done is done, but I wouldn’t have her go anywhere with this in her possession without at least one other person watching her.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. It was a bad idea. Guilty as charged, Al.” Hadwin, in his position leaning on the wall adjacent to Teselin’s bed, raised an arm in confession. “Keep the punches coming; maybe they’ll knock some sense into me.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rummaging in vain for something that wasn’t there. “I don’t like folks trailing my arse like I’m a powder keg about to blow, and Tes shouldn’t be made to feel that way, either, or else she’s never gonna shake the belief that she’s nothing more than a walking apocalypse. Unlike me, the kid’s responsible as all get out, and I trusted she had a handle on things. And she did. But I know better than anyone that the unexpected can strike in the blink of an eye and you gotta be ready to change your course in a snap. So yeah,” he pulled one hand out of his pockets, fingertips coming away with blood, “I should’ve given her a resonance stone, or planned a meetup time like a normal fucking person, or went along for the ride. Not like that would’ve gone well either,” he muttered darkly, staring at some unseen shadow on the wall.
Realizing he somehow managed to rattle Hadwin, of all people, Alster’s eyes widened at his careless mistake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I wasn’t suggesting you did anything wrong, Hadwin. Your rationale is sound, and it’s only natural to feel like we failed someone, or that we could have done more for them in hindsight, but…I suppose I was speaking from personal experience. Matters involving magic are always complicated and complex, and I know I would have wanted someone to step in to monitor me if I was having any issues with my mine, because I’ve done some pretty questionable things when no one was watching, but that’s me, and my experience isn’t compatible with Teselin’s, I realize that, but…” He trailed off before he ended up lodging his foot further into his mouth. A wise decision. Wiser if he would have said nothing at all.
“Right. Next time, I’ll direct her to you,” Hadwin said, his tone clipped. “Fuck, Al, just take a look at her arm. Do what you came here to do.”
Wordlessly, so he couldn’t blunder another well-intentioned but insensitive string of unhelpful platitudes, Alster set out to unwrap her arm and examine the injury. He tried not to suck in a breath as he surveyed the ring of cauterized flesh around which the superheated metal had branded her, and the thin, circular strip where her skin had been cut open and sliced through to the tendon. In silence he operated, spot-healing easy-to-clean areas and soothing the burns with a stimulating charge of magic, but he knew he was doing a surface-level job, and required a much deeper dive to stitch, best as he could, the lacerated tendons into working order. Some semblance of it, anyhow.
“This isn’t easy for me to say, but bear in mind, this is a cursory assessment, and every person recovers differently. Not to mention, my understanding of the body is ever-expanding—“
“—Get to the point,” Hadwin snapped.
“I am, I am,” Alster hurried, trying to keep his cool under the faoladh’s intense gaze. “The manacle embedded itself so deeply into her skin, it broke through not only the dermal layers, but through the outer sheath of her muscles, too, severing the tendons, along with the nerves surrounding them. Now, I can heal her arm whole, and it will appear as new, relatively unmarred, save for some burn damage, but I’m afraid some of the internal damage might be lasting. As in…her arm might not have the full range of use for the foreseeable future.”
Hadwin pushed off from the wall, running fingers through his still-damp hair, a casual enough gesture if not for the frenetic way he did it, scooping up fistfuls at a time and clawing against his scalp. “So we take her to the Night Garden after you’re through and hope for the best, yeah? This ain’t a done deal, like you said. Fix this shit; whatever the hell you can do, do it.” He ratcheted his head, a jerk so violent it elicited a sick pop, at Nia, his smile like a spectre; wavering, colorless, and bound to haunt any who looked at it for too long. “Still think she’s lucky to have me? Yeah,” he exploded into an unsteady laugh. “That’s a crock of shit. Finding her when I did was the least I could do after sleeping on the job. It doesn’t suddenly make me her fucking savior. You are, Nia.”
Later, on the other end of the villa, Ari was entertaining an unexpected visitor.
To drum up the support he needed to supplant the Rigas seat of power and claim it for the Canaverises, the current Lord of Stella D’Mare brokered deals with influential noble families once loyal to the Rigases, buying their loyalties in exchange for favors. In general, these favors mostly amounted to business transactions, profit and resource sharing, and promised tax breaks once Stella D’Mare rebuilt an independent economical presence, but they also bought themselves a seat on his council, outnumbering the Canaveris representatives by a slight but significant margin. Typically, these noble representatives were satisfied with Ari’s conditional rulership and seldom touted an oppositional agenda—or if they did, it rested within the minority—but today differed. Today, Balin Elthor, speaker for the seven noble families comprising the Arcanum, the backbone of Old Town Stella D’Mare, arrived at Ari’s door with only a rushed envoy granting a half hour’s grace before heralding his arrival. As per Canaveris hospitality, Ari greeted him, brought him to the parlor, and fixed him a glass of the finest of Stella D’Mare’s ruby-dark wine, one of three bottles remaining in Galeyn. They chatted, as was customary, about the festivities, the twice-postponed announcement of the float competition winners, and other odds and ends, before Balin revealed the true reason behind his impromptu visit.
“I have heard tell from my son, who was in vicinity of your villa and in earshot, that you are currently harboring Teselin Kristeva within these walls. Am I correct in assuming this is the very same Teselin Kristeva who destroyed your ballroom—and injured a great deal of people—prior to the miraculous reconstruction performed by Tivia Rigas?” Balin swished the contents of his untouched wine glass, appearing almost bored in presenting this allegation. “He watched as you admitted the woman, alongside her unhinged wolf companion and the Ardane prisoner with whom you are seemingly on very cozy terms, indoors for some type of emergency aid. Is this an accurate rendering of today’s tableau, or should I reprimand my son for his overactive imagination and fanciful lies?”
Ari, who had already drained the majority of his goblet’s contents, had otherwise sat poised and unperturbed on the settee, already anticipating the subject matter of the Elthor nobleman’s inquiries. “Emergency aid. Precisely as your son had gleaned from our public exchange. I do not harbor her out of mere sentiment or sympathy, Lord Elthor, given her youth and tragic circumstances, but considering my choices, was I to reject her obvious need for immediate medical attention? Where else in the entirety of this settlement would she have found better refuge?”
Balin’s posture became rigid. “So you endanger us all, Lord Canaveris. Your citizens, your staunch supporters, for an emotionally unstable girl who unleashes untold devastation at the smallest upset? Do you intend on supporting her, another summoner, in place of your people, when we have yet to recover from the ravages of the last summoner’s unfathomable assault?”
“I understand your concerns, Lord Elthor,” Ari placed his now-empty goblet on the table before him and folded his hands upon his lap, “and I assure you, they are mine as well. But let me first underline the most essential difference between Teselin Kristeva and the tyrant, Locque. The latter lacked moralistic integrity. As such, she had no compunctions over destroying this kingdom as punishment for rejecting her rule. The former, however, is conscientious to a fault. She seeks not to harm, to the extent of which she would rather risk harming herself if it would prevent a repeat incident. It is for this reason I have received the request for succor. She fares poorly because she temporarily severed the connection to her magic, leaving her in a grave, sickly condition as a result. I could not very well ignore this request, as you well know, considering her importance to our Galeynian-allied benefactors. Denying her any measure of assistance would have placed us under direct contention with the crown. I need not mention how many enemies we would have made if we opted instead for willful negligence—-and during a celebration expressly created to strengthen Galeynian-D’Marian bonds, no less! How disingenuous the message of harmony and solidarity, to oust an ally in need, in spite of her controversial nature. Do you not agree, Lord Elthor?”
“And so we D’Marians are yet again forced to kowtow to another higher authority,” Balin elected for a dramatic sigh, but contained within that sigh was disappointment; disappointment in the man they endorsed as new Lord of Stella D’Mare, eager slave to their new set of overlords. “A friendly reminder, Lord Canaveris; you are not the sole arbiter presiding over this settlement. Without your supporters, I cannot imagine the chasm that might widen, or the civil unrest that might resume, should the defeated and downtrodden Rigases decide to lead an uprising to reclaim their lofty position as rightful rulers of the Arcanum. Do remember to whom you owe gratitude for your unopposed rule. If you aim to keep it unopposed, listen to my counsel, and heed it well.” Setting aside his goblet, Balin rose from his chair with a dignity that clashed with his not-so-subtle threats. “Remove Teselin Kristeva from the premises by tomorrow morning. Institute a ban. Enforce that ban. And should she attempt to disguise herself a second time and sneak into our borders uninvited, remove her posthaste. I do not care about the method, so long as she takes no retaliatory action on our people, who have been victimized enough by unstable magic-users. While you are at it, ban her wolf friend, as well. He will only cause trouble for us. If the Galeynian crown should give you any trouble and deny this ordinance, exercise your sovereignty rights. We have made this small patch of land our own; it is only fair that we should defend it and our endangered way of life. Do this, Lord Canaveris, and we shall trouble you no further.” Uninterested in hearing a word of Ari’s defense, Balin swatted a hand towards him as though he were an insignificant fly, strode across the parlor, and exited the villa without an escort or a formal dismissal.
Ari could remain seated a moment longer, not when he felt about to crawl out of his skin. Despite Isidor’s tonic, his heart pounded and cold sweat appeared on his forehead. He hurried to his feet, eager to move, to bridge the distance between himself and the parlor, to outpace the cloying, all-too-familiar prickle that chased him throughout his life when faced with any unpleasantness, activating…at the smallest upset.
He ended up outside, in the koi pond garden. With his head angled away from the sky, he didn’t notice the angry storm clouds collecting overhead until the pattering of light rain fell on his shoulders. A warning rumble of thunder introduced a thicker curtain to descend, fat water droplets drenching his coat and plastering his hair to his face, bleeding like black ink. Instead of rushing away to shelter like other villa attendants had done, Ari lifted his head to the bruised sky, closed his eyes, and borrowed an external sadness and pain in place of what he could not allow himself to feel. Crying without committing to the tears, he once called it. Slowly, the swelling, flaring sensations targeting his limbs had subsided, and drained, down and out of him, to the growing puddle at his feet.
“Right… right. I didn’t consider how bad Is must be taking the return of his supposed-to-be-dead brother.” Nia’s mouth twisted to the side thoughtfully. She wondered if his stance on Vitali’s treatment as a ‘prisoner’, himself, was at all similar to her’s. As much as he maintained that he couldn’t stand her, he certainly harboured no real affection for the necromancer, and had much more reason to hold a grudge. “Well… I’ll leave it to you, then. You’ve got his trust; he’ll be more apt to listen to you.”
Nia was afraid her comments as to why Teselin had been knowingly left to her own devices with an object that was detrimental to her health would strike Hadwin in all the wrong ways. But it wasn’t until Alster reiterated them that hit the faoladh’s nerves just right. “...I would’ve done the same. Exactly the same.” She decided to voice, in solidarity. “And just like you, I’d have beaten myself up over it. I want this poor girl to learn to trust herself, and how can we get her there if we don’t show that we trust her as well? Besides… she wasn’t alone. For a while.” The Master Alchemist trailed off. Damnit… just when she was starting to become comfortable in her opinion that Nico Canaveris was a spoiled little brat with absentee-father issues, now she had to credit him for being one in a million who’d willingly spent time with the new source of Galeyn’s fears. And the concern on his face when he’d seen Teselin… The kid might’ve been manipulative, but there was no faking what she saw. Worry; regret. And… sadness. He liked her, and had it been up to him, she was willing to bet he wouldn’t have left her to wander on her own.
The Master Alchemist kept out of Alster’s way as he assessed the damage that manacle had wreaked on Teselin’s system. “I’ve been drawing the fever out of her for the past hour or so,” she confirmed, and her shoulders visibly relaxed at the confirmation that there was no trace of that manacle in her bloodstream. Good; she had done the right thing, melting the metal only to the point of it becoming malleable, but not liquid. “But I can’t do much for her arm. I’m not sure any ordinary healer can. That Mollengardian manacle burned right through her damn skin…” And had blistered her own hands in only a quarter of an hour; she could only imagine what sort of pain Teselin must have been in, the way it reacted to her genetic makeup.
But if anyone could patch her up almost as good as new, it was Alster. Which is why his furrowed brow and the way he delayed offering a prognosis sank like a stone in her gut. “Okay, but once she’s stable--we can get her to the night Garden, like Hadwin said. And nerves and muscle can regrow; there’s no reason to think she won’t be able to use her arm in the foreseeable future, right?” Nia refused to fixate on a dark prognosis. Teselin never got sick, and to her understanding, had an incredible ability to heal with her magic wasn’t impeded. She was far from any ordinary human. “Soldiers and warriors have had it worse on the battlefield and manage to rehabilitate limbs. I, for one, have full confidence in her recovery. Thanks, Al.”
Nia clapped the Rigas mage on the shoulder, and winced, immediately regretting the action as her blistered hands stung. “I’ll be back in a bit. I need some more cold water in case her fever continues to come back. If you think she’s stable enough for me and Hadwin to monitor her, then go home and get some well-deserved rest.”
To serve as a buffer against the pain in her hands, Nia tore the hem of her gown and wrapped the strips of fabric around her blistered skin before picking up the pitcher of now warm water before taking her leave. She made a stop to the kitchens, where she dumped out the contents of the pitcher and traded it for one that was filled with icy cold water, and then made her way back. However, the Master Alchemist took a slight detour on the way back. One where she made sure to pass by Sylvie’s Canaverises room, and down a handful of doors to one she’d come to recognize as Nico’s. Ensuring the corridor was clear of onlookers, she knocked once, twice, and waited for half a moment before the door opened. “Hey--just thought you’d be happy to know that Alster Rigas feels reassured that Teselin is stable. And I’ve got high hopes that that arm of hers is gonna heal just fine. And, I just wanted to say… thanks for being a friend to her. It’s hard being ‘other’ and an outcast; I should know. I’m willing to bet you really made her day, treating her like a normal person. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I… think I’m starting to see a lot of Ari in you.”
Nia flashed a half-grin, and offered her bandaged, free hand for Nico to shake. Of course, the startled young man hesitated, and she was rather surprised when he silently reciprocated and took her hand. That was the opportunity the Ardane woman needed to slip something small, hard, and smooth between their palms. It was a resonance stone; one of the two that she and Ari had used to communicate, before she had effectively moved into the Canaveris villa. “I don’t know what the chances are that you see her again anytime soon… but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep in touch, if you can find the time.”
At risk of being caught, Nia decided to end it there, and left Nico with one half of a pair of resonance stones. She would ensure that the other found its way to Teselin for the same reason. It wasn’t a betrayal on her part; she hadn’t effectively told Nico to go against his uncle’s wishes. She simply presented him with the opportunity to make his own decisions, based on what he wanted, and what he thought was right.
It wasn’t long after Nia left to retrieve a new pitcher of water that Teselin finally began to stir. The young summoner waded through fever dreams, many of which stemmed from what had occurred during the aspects of her day when she’d been lucid. She saw a lot of faces: Sylvies and Nicos, and then faces she didn’t recognize. She heard a lot of shouts and laughter, lots of colours, smiles, and felt the excitement. She saw and felt the sun beating down on her, uncomfortably so, and then she began to melt away: from the faces and the voices and the sights. She melted, and they remained, stable and solid but out of her reach, and she had no way of knowing if she’d see them, hear them again…
The young summoner awoke to jumbled memories and unclear thoughts. She felt heavy; her head throbbed. Everything felt hot. But those bright, pleasant dreams had left her in a state of brief euphoria. Like she had been privileged to live a life that wasn’t her own, even for a short period of time. When she opened her eyes--which were dark again--Hadwin’s face was the first to come into her view. “...Hadwin. Did I come back… too late? I’m sorry. I took too long.”
She quickly learned how difficult it was to keep her eyes open, however, and promptly allowed them to shut. Her throat felt thick; she was thirsty, and hungry, but so, so tired. Her right arm felt heavy like lead, so she didn’t bother to try to move it. It didn’t appear that she had registered she wasn’t at the palace, either, or the state of her given condition. “I won’t take so long, next time. I got… carried away.”
Unbeknownst to Ari, he was bound for yet another unexpected visitor that evening, shortly after his previous visitor. When Lilica arrived by carriage at the Canaveris villa, it was just as Balin was taking his leave of Ari’s estate, and the two crossed paths without him recognizing her beneath the hood of her summer cloak. It gave the Galeynian queen pause to perhaps reconsider her unscheduled visit: perhaps Ari was busy with other matters and other people. So she waited a beat, but when it became apparent that no one else was exiting the Canaveris villa, it occurred to her that perhaps that D’Marian nobleman had been his only guest. So she stepped up to the entrance of the foyer, but was not greeted by anyone who might announce her arrival to Ari. Confused, she stepped even further inside, at which point she was finally met with Laz--who appeared quite different up close than before. Lilica had heard murmurs of Ari’s golem bodyguard undergoing quite the transformation, but this was the first time she had laid eyes upon not a hulking, intimidating man, but… an elegant woman.
“...Laz?” Hopefully they went by the same name. Lilica felt as though she were walking upon eggshells. “Please excuse my abrupt arrival. I was hoping to speak with Lord Canaveris, if he happens to be available. It is nothing of urgency…” The golem’s response was vague, mentioning that she was not reassured that Ari was up for taking any more visitors that evening. Lilica did not push the issue. “Of course. Do give him my best. As I so boldly showed myself in, I can show myself out.”
The Galeynian queen did so after offering a shallow bow, pulling her hood back up to protect against the rain as she made for the carriage that had taken her to the settlement in the first place. She was just about to open the carriage door to shield herself from the oncoming rain when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Someone standing in the open courtyard, near the koi pond, completely still and without flinching as the rain pummeled them. Obviously, this struck her with concern; who would subject themselves to a raging summer storm without taking shelter?
Figuring she ought to ask them if they were alright and offer help, Lilica abandoned her carriage and made for the courtyard. The individual stood before the koi pond, head turned to the sky, looking completely… lost. Defeated. And upon closer inspection, that person turned out to be…
“...Ari.” The dark mage breathed his name with an air of concern, completely abandoning the more polite title of ‘Lord Canaveris’. They were not particularly familiar; in fact, they had their own fair share of rocky history, considering her decree to have Nia Ardane arrested, and his retaliation which had threatened Chara. To this day, Lilica was unsure of her feelings toward the Canaveris lord, but if they could relate in any way, it was that they shared an obligation to appease a certain population of people: he, the D’Marians, and she, the Galeynians. Despite their differences, she of all people knew too well that every decision he made every single day had to be weighed against how it would be seen by his public.
“I was hoping we could speak. Make no mistake, I am not here by any hostile means. Rather… out of concern. I promise not to keep you long.” With one hand clutching her cloak to her body, she extended her other to the distraught man. “Can we speak inside? I require no special hospitality, rest assured. I only hope that we can talk.”
It seemed to take Ari a moment to decide to oblige her request. He moved sluggishly toward the nearest entrance, to her relief, and she followed suit.
The Galeynian Queen decided to abandon her now saturated cloak just outside the door, so as not to bring a sopping wet garment into the Canaveris lord’s home. Laz, who was never too far from her Master, immediately brought Ari a dry blanket so as to dry himself off and prevent from catching a chill. Knowing better than to sit on his furniture with the hem of her gown wet with rainwater, Lilica remained standing, and collapsed her hands in front of her.
“Chara debriefed me on a conversation she had with Nia, earlier. One concerning my half-brother--who, I should assure you, is in custody of the palace and watched around the clock--and his half sister… Teselin. Your Master Alchemist raised some points that gave me cause to consider her perspective. And then, recently…” She sighed softly, knowing that she might well be touching on exactly what must have been bringing the D’Marian aristocrat down. “Alster briefly mentioned that his aid was needed, here, as Teselin was---perhaps still is--in critical condition. I’m familiar with the girl’s resilience… as well as what appears to be her one and only weakness.”
A quiet sigh, one that might have also betrayed her own sense of defeat, escaped her lips. “I realize that your kindness and hospitality has probably landed you in a difficult position. Please know that as soon as Teselin is stable, we won’t hesitate to transport her to the Night Garden, where her recovery will yield the most positive prognosis. Your visitor who was here previously… I take it he was not so impressed by your gesture.” Lilica crossed the room to close the awkward distance between them; it was hard to have a conversation with someone when you could barely make out their face. “ After what occurred last night, we cannot call peoples’ fear invalid. But, to me, your gesture embodies the whole reason for these celebrations: coming together as a kingdom, after we’ve all suffered the tyranny of a witch. Reaching out and helping one another as one living being to another, and not as an ‘us’ and ‘them’.
“I get the feeling you are probably not inclined for another prolonged visitation; rest assured, I can show myself out shortly. I just want you to know…” She unclasped her hands and let them fall to her sides, pausing to consider her words very carefully. “As someone who understands--and who is guilty of yielding to the political pressure applied by their own people… You have the palace’s support. My support, specifically, should you choose to lead by your morals. And should you decide to yield to the outcry of your public instead… I suppose I don’t have a leg to stand on. After all, I yielded to the pressure to arrest Nia Ardane.”
Lilica smoothed her skirts and made further crossed the room, toward the foyer where she had first entered and encountered Laz. True to her word, she did not wish to overstay her welcome, considering her arrival had not been approved in the first place. “Simply, I decided to pay a visit tonight solely to let you know that I… understand. And you have my support, should you want it. Please take care of yourself, Lord Canaveris.”
With a brief, concluding nod, the Galeynian Queen took her leave so as to provide Ari the peace and quiet that he probably needed at that moment.
Nico wasn’t anticipating who waited for him on the other side of the door.
“Miss Ardane!” Why had she paid him a visit, and when did he suddenly cease caring about how much he despised her?
More surprising still, Nia had sought him out for the express purpose of updating him on Teselin’s condition. Why did she care to ensure that he was properly informed? Was she playing him for his favor? Attempting to find a thread of commonality between them because she could not conceive of any Canaveris disliking her?
Whatever her reasons, they, for once, did not faze him, nor incite in him spikes of anger or resentment. If they were on the same page about Teselin and her treatment…then it did not much matter about their current standing. For now, he would set aside his scruples with the Master Alchemist and institute a truce.
“I thank you for the update, Miss Nia. It is a relief to hear about her recovery in hopeful, positive tones.”
I’m starting to see a lot of Ari in you. Nia’s assessment took Nico aback. Usually, most people, in their poor attempts to compliment him, referred to him as Casimiro in miniature, in both appearance and in forbearance. The comparison rankled him, to say the least. But Nia…saw him in a different light? He searched her features, scouring for sincerity, ascertaining she didn’t say that because she wanted to win his cooperation. The possibility wasn’t nonexistent, but he elected to give her the benefit of the doubt, just this once. Not that her compliment hit the same, however. Ari…desired Teselin gone. Out of sight. Far away. Friendless, alone, and left hyper-aware of her otherness. Her glaring lack of normalcy would follow her down every path she tread, threatening to stifle her happiness and peace of mind.
He almost wrinkled his nose at Nia’s outstretched, bandaged hand, hesitant to make contact with a Master Alchemist’s uncanny ability to catalogue every corner of his internal makeup, and also…wouldn’t he exacerbate her injuries? Nonetheless, he complied, shook her hand, and felt…something hard and cold pressed into his palm. As he withdrew, he stared at the resonance stone she transferred into his keeping. Much as he appreciated the gesture, it left him, above all, puzzled. “This stone connects you to Uncle Ari. How will you convince him to surrender his own, without arousing suspicion?” A sigh punctured out of his lungs. “Grant me until the twelfth bell, tonight. I shall create a suitable pair.” He returned the stone to her possession. “And for goodness sake, Ardane, are you ever going to have your burned hands tended to!? Hand health is of the utmost importance for those who work extensively with them. I cannot fathom your carelessness in letting them go unattended for this long. Just,” another long-suffering sigh, “wait a moment.”
He disappeared into his room and reappeared with a small, cylindrical tin, inside of which contained a green, sticky substance that smelled strongly of eucalyptus. He thrust the tin into her face. “It is a general-purpose salve, used for cuts, joint pain, dry skin, and burns. It does wonders for the skin. Take it. Keep it. I have plenty. Uncle Ari will supply you with more, as needed.”
And, having said his peace, he dismissed Nia, returned to his chambers, and set to work creating his own resonance stones at his desk, hardly occurring to him that his actions were tantamount to betraying his uncle.
Ari had only himself to blame. Not for the events from last night, or so much his lukewarm handling of Teselin Kristeva—although his minimal efforts reflected poorly on his upstanding character and invited people like Nico and Nia to question his integrity—but his too-overzealous mindset as he strove toward paving for D’Marians the path for peace and stability. So desperately had he planned, to the minutest, most meticulous detail, a celebration both D’Marians and Galeynians could appreciate as a herald of encroaching hope amidst the persisting darkness, a sign of better days to come, that when his own delicate hopes last evening were quashed, and people fled in fear, Ari had unwittingly collected their accumulated stresses and panic upon his shoulders and plunged into a terrible depression. He hadn’t realized how much pressure he’d placed on himself to succeed in lifting everyone’s spirits until he fell so far off the mark, not due to any wrongdoing on his part, but because some malevolent force was hellbent on punishing D’Marians—and by extension, Galeynians—for the audacity of trying to embrace joy in among so much strife and uncertainty for the future. Were they all cursed never to experience the freedom of the carefree? Was it too much to ask for a week—a day—where nothing mattered but good company, good food, and good memories?
Would this be the legacy he left behind when he died? What would his epitaph read? Here lies Lord Aristide Canaveris, the fool who believed he could deliver happiness to a broken and cursed people. Nia would resent him for entertaining defeat, but part of the reason he worked so hard to create a magical and memorable evening was so that if he died tomorrow, he could at least leave this material plane with one fewer regret.
And so, he blamed himself for his simplistic expectations, his blistering naïveté, unrealistic hopes, and unsustainable optimism. Last night was a disaster. Mitigated from a tragedy, but a disaster, nonetheless. Unfortunately, his only viable and most immediate path to prevention, to ensure no resurgences of the same disaster, was to remove the source from his village. Lord Balin Elthor thought as much, and Ari was inclined to agree. Heavens, he did agree on all counts, but seldom was anything so simple as banishing the problem, when the problem in question had staunch supporters and those who sympathized with her plight—himself included. This problem had a name, a life, dreams and aspirations, humility, a conscience to match that of her depthless magic…and dearly, he, too, wanted to protect her. Wanted to offer her sanctuary, a place of safety, a place where she might find friendship in his niece and nephews, a place of acceptance.
Normalcy. The one thing he, too, had sought to obtain throughout a life that deferred him the opportunities his peers had been given. They were free to frolic and gambol outside, while he, shut away in his chambers, nursed a petrified limb while watching enviously through the slit in the curtains.
Alas, he could not offer her what she desired, because too much was at stake for his family, for his settlement, if she experienced another destructive episode. He hated it; hated himself, hated how he inspired in Nia and in Nico so much disappointment and betrayal, but what else was he to do?
What else?
The rain showered him relentlessly from above, leaving no trace of a dry patch on his body, and in that moment he didn’t care about his appearance, or his ruined clothes. It felt refreshing not to care, to let the sky care in his stead. To stand, fully exposed, and allow the world to fall upon him as though he were little more than a tree or a rock. A statue, unresponsive. Inhuman and inorganic. Perhaps it would not be so horrible to let go, to surrender to the rain, and accept his natural end. His limbs creaked whenever he walked, aching, weary, in need of rest. He was in need of rest. Tired. He just wanted to sleep.
Ari.
His eyes snapped open as the puff of air carrying his name reached his ears. Suddenly, he realized just how open and exposed he was, not only to the elements, but to any concerned passersby. Glancing over to his left revealed the identity of his visitor, and the color about drained from his face. Of all the people, of all the places, and of all the sorry states in which to see him!
“Your Majesty!” Immediately, he scrounged together an approximation of his public-facing facade. What was he even thinking, compromising his stateliness out in the open, where everyone was privy to his degradation? “Ah, you must forgive me,” he gestured to his drowned form and released a round of amused laughter at his own expense. “I ended up getting caught in the rain, but instead of bemoaning my misfortune, I instead opted to embrace it. What a difference a change in perspective makes! Why, it has given me a newfound appreciation for the little pleasures we Canaverises, in all our varied decadence, take for granted. Alas, you are not here to listen as I wax poetic on the weather, nor to find yourself the sky’s next target, so come. We shall discuss matters indoors, where it is warm and dry.”
Upon reentry, Laz, anticipating the needs of two people roaming out in the rain, offered Ari a blanket and offered to remove Lilica’s cloak before they entered the parlor. Dripping wet, Ari took the time to squeeze the moisture out of his hair, which had transformed in minutes to a clump of slimy seaweed washed ashore. The more he remembered his bearings and his dignity as a Canaveris where presentableness was key, the more his antics in the rain had mortified him. To place distance from his borderline deranged display outside, Ari shed his outer coat, draping it over the fireplace mantel to dry, and tossing a glass-like, ruby-colored chip into the hearth, which erupted into dazzling, heat-generated bursts of flames. If he could dry-out the evidence of his fit of pique as soon as possible, then the quicker he could put this moment of publically-witnessed weakness past him and move on as the undisturbed, untouchable Lord Canaveris, ever-reliable champion of his people, who always carried their best interests at heart. Who would always do right by them.
“If you truly desire no refreshments, your Majesty, then at least partake in my fire,” he beckoned, enticing the Galeynian Queen to cross the room and join him at a closer, more companionable distance, a tad intimate for conducting business, but the hearth’s inviting warmth did not reach that far, and it couldn’t be helped. She accepted his invitation nonetheless, entering the small yet powerful heat-radius, which cast a gentle, glowing halo over her lithe form and backlit her hair in a corona of reflected flame. Quite the apropos look for a Queen. “Now…what can I do for you, your Majesty?”
Teselin. Of course she had arrived unannounced to follow up on the summoner’s unfortunate accident. Unbidden, Ari’s shoulders tensed, bracing for her own version of Lord Elthor’s ultimatum …and curiously, receiving none. Rather, he received something, but nowhere near what he was expecting: support. Empathy. Understanding. All this from a woman who bore little reason to treat the man who threatened to remove Chara from her service with a smidgeon of anything but cold, clipped tolerance. Despite not knowing the daughter of Theomyr Tenebris too terribly well, even back when she resided in Stella D’Mare as Adalfieri Rigas’s favored prisoner, Ari did not sense any ingenuity or farce behind her sentiment. She had meant it; every word.
His brow softened. “Much as your praise flatters me, I am afraid I cannot give myself full credit for my humanitarian efforts, your Majesty,” he admitted, resting one hand against the mantel. “Above all, my concerns for a free-roaming Teselin Kristeva have aligned with those of my people, in particular, with the gentleman who visited just before you. Rightly so, he, and I are apprehensive about allowing the summoner unrestricted access to the settlement following the unfortunate events from last night. I did, in fact, attempt a soft implementation of this new ordinance earlier today, but I am afraid it caused bigger problems in the long run once I discovered the young woman I had released from my purview was indeed wearing the very manacle that has placed her under my care. It was all I could do to bear partial responsibility, when Nia and Mister Kavanagh brought her unconscious form to my door. Even then, I hesitated to accept her, fearing a similar outcome to last night. Perhaps I am not so kind, or hospitable, considering how close I was to ousting the young woman who just yesterday I treated as one of my honored guests.”
“It is no fault of her own, I realize. She has been a pleasure to host and I would love nothing more than to offer my home to her indefinitely. Alas,” he sighed, glimpsing at the wet patch his sopping clothes had patterned on the plush carpeting, “it is not entirely my decision to make, and were it so, then I am afraid my views reflect those of Lord Elthor’s. For the time being, until the public outcry subsides, as it has before, concerning Lord Rigas, I will require Teselin Kristeva not to cross the boundaries of the settlement. Temporarily, mind, until the issue can reach a stabilization point.” In other words, until her magic could be controlled, but Lilica understood the subtext behind his words. “It pains me. My niece and nephew have really taken to her, but,” he trailed off, releasing an uncharacteristic sigh. “I appreciate your support, your Majesty, and I am receptive to alternate solutions in relation to this bright young lady. Anything I can do, rest assured I will provide. You need only ask. Maintaining our alliance is of crucial import to me. All the same, maintaining the peace among my people is, as well, imperative. As you have no doubt experienced first-hand, D’Marians are a raucous sort, and very much split after the Canaveris takeover. So early on in my reign, I must satisfy certain needs, lest I inadvertently invite civil war.”
“However,” he tapped his fingers against the mantel, grappling to reach something of a compromise in exchange for Lilica’s compassion concerning his complicated position, “I will do my level best to persuade the crowd in Miss Kristeva’s favor. To remind everyone the importance of nurture rather than ostracism. After all,” a bit of a mischievous smile crossed his features, “I have been known to circumvent the demands of my benefactors by appealing directly to the people through charm and endearing witticisms. Teselin Kristeva should find herself welcomed back to the settlement in no time at all.”
Except…
Did Ari desire her reinstatement? Most other D’Marians could relate, he was sure. Very few despised Teselin Kristeva and almost everyone he encountered felt sympathy for the overburdened young woman. Yet, in equal turns, they feared if they, too, might go the way of Apelrade should Teselin have a particularly bad day. A day, perhaps, that involved any one of his brother’s children. Was that not how the summoner reached the state of mind ripe for sowing destruction? Did it not start first with worry for Hadwin Kavanagh, followed by an argument with Sylvie, and culminated in rediscovering her brother’s surprising status as among the living? However pure her intentions, Teselin presented as a legitimate danger, not only to his niece and nephews, but to him. If Tivia Rigas hadn’t been there to reverse the damage that evening, Ari might have died himself. Turned entirely to stone and crushed by a fallen chandelier. Even among the company of two capable Master Alchemists, there was little either could do for him if his heart stopped for good…except consult the dreaded necromancer, and he’d rather stay dead than seek his favor.
“Nonetheless…I thank you, Your Majesty. For your understanding. In light of my egregious behavior when last you visited my villa, it is surely more than I deserve, but I take no kindness for granted. Please know that you are welcome here whenever you fancy, invited or not. It is, ultimately, your land, after all.” And you could render my ordinance null at any time…if it came to that. Another unspoken implication. Ari’s policies, which yielded to Galeyn, could be overruled in a heartbeat. With complications from irate D’Marians, yes, but the matter of Teselin Kristeva would be out of his hands at the simplest directive from Queen Lilica.
Not that he imagined she would throw diplomacy to the wayside when she and he both stressed the importance of solidarity between the two nations, but pressure from, perhaps, Hadwin Kavanagh for instance, could end up upsetting their delicate and tenuous balance.
“We shall discuss this more after the Solstice festivities conclude, I am sure,” he said, accompanying Lilica to the door and helping her to don her still-dripping traveler’s cloak. “I do hope you will find some reprieve in your duties to enjoy yourself these next few days. At any rate, good night, and safe travels, your Majesty.”
After seeing her off to her carriage, Ari stood under the open doorway, safe from the spewing rain and harboring no further desire to resume his ritual drenching. While he didn’t feel much better than before Lilica’s arrival, at the very least, he felt like he gained a little dose of perspective. He had options, but where would those options lead if his village, his family, and he…were to end up dead? And all in the name of protecting a young girl from believing her magic spelled doom for the people most close to her? He was generous…but not if it risked the safety of his loved ones.
It didn’t matter how pissed off Ari was at him; if he asked, he received, and Hadwin was in desperate need of some booze. Knowing the insatiable depths of his insouciance, fancypants provided three bottles of wine to imbibe if it would shut up his infuriating guest and keep him calm. And it did, for a while. He chugged one back from the neck, ignoring the crystal goblet he was supposed to use, if he were civilized, or a man and not some hybrid of beast, and kicked back in the chair he positioned at Teselin’s bedside. With Al gone and Nia off to win over the Canaveris children one by one, Hadwin remained behind, alone again, to stew in his thoughts, his intrusive, endless drivel of thoughts that gabbed on like fountains gurgling full of blood and pus and steaming bullshit. They always played out the same, these shortcomings of his character, and like a chump, he always bought in to the seething, condemning whispers that pronounced him a good-for-nothing sack of shit who would bring about Teselin’s ruination, just as he did to Rowen.
He couldn’t look at her arm. Couldn’t see what oversight had wrought on her mobility, or imagine how basic movements she’d before taken for granted would affect her. With the manacle a half-melted lump on the floor, he wondered how she’d react to its loss. Her only shot at normalcy, gone.
Teselin came to early that evening, to the sound of heavy rain beating against the window. Natural, non-summoner-generated rain. He had a knack for telling the difference.
“Well hey there, kiddo,” he deposited his empty third bottle of wine on the nightstand and shifted in his chair to face her, his grin slow and languid. “I’d say rise and shine, but it’s getting full dark now, so I can’t lead with that. You thirsty? I bet you’re thirsty. Hungry, too. Here, I got you,” he helped prop her upright on the pillows and guided her to drink a tin of cool water. “One of your arms is kinda wonky, so best let it stay put for now. But hey,” he poured Teselin a refill of water after she drained the contents of the first cup dry, “tell me about your day. It had to be scads more eventful than mine, which consisted of drinking wine and staring at the ceiling. I don’t do the ‘stay’ thing all too well, Tes.” Given the state of her exhaustion, he didn’t find it pertinent to dump on her all the grisly details that happened after she lost consciousness. She’d learn soon enough.
Or…now.
A soft knock drummed on the door, polite but persistent. He knew who it was before he swaggered over to receive the call.
“Sylvie.”
“Oh.” The Canaveris girl in the hallway froze when she saw him. “Mister Kavanagh. Yes. You would be here. Of course. I—“
“—You’re here for Tes.” He swung the door open and gestured for her to enter. “Just pretend I’m not here if it makes things easier. I don’t imagine you’ve got a lot of time before someone catches you sneaking around where you’re not supposed to be, so sure as hell don’t be wasting any of it on me.”
“I…yes. That is, that is fair. Thank you.” Awkwardly, the red-faced Sylvie shuffled inside, eyes cast downward and pointed away from Hadwin as she headed over to Teselin’s bedside.
“Miss Kristeva, I,” she swallowed hard, also unable to look at the summoner’s arm, “I cannot stay long. My uncle and Laz are currently preoccupied with attending to a visitor, so I used this opportunity to sneak out of my chambers. I excel at this type of subterfuge; I also excel at eavesdropping, so I am aware of what happened after you accompanied my brother to the festivities, and I…I wanted to apologize. Formally.” She pointed her chin at Teselin’s now bare arm. “For refusing to believe your claim to have your magic under provisional control. I see now I was wrong to have doubted your sincerity. I hope you can still accept my forgiveness. Perhaps if I were more open to your friendship, you would not be suffering in your present condition. I cannot begin to express the extent of my apologies.”
“I guess it bears mentioning,” Hadwin piped up from the corner farthest from Teselin and Sylvie, keeping far away from Ari’s niece in a show of his humility. He crossed his arms, making no indication of creeping closer. “You’re at the Canaveris villa, Tes. You lost consciousness before you could pull off the manacle and it mangled your arm a bit, but Al put it to rights. For the most part. Can’t say the same for the manacle, though.” He pointed to the misshapen hunk of twisted metal near Sylvie’s feet. “Nia had to melt that thing off you just to yank it off your arm. Don’t think it’s gonna be of any use to you as it is, I’m afraid.”
Teselin couldn’t remember the last time she felt so thirsty. It was as if every drop of moisture had been leeched from her body--which wasn’t far from the truth, considering how her raging fever had caused her body to sweat profusely in its desperate attempt to lower its climbing temperature. However, she couldn’t recall any of that (frankly, it was difficult to recall much from that day at all), and it left her in a confused, somewhat apathetic state of simply accepting her situation--whatever it was, and wherever she was. She did not refuse the water Hadwin offered to her, and rapidly downed two full glasses without so much as taking a breath. It struck her as rather confusing when she realized her dominant arm struggled to lift at her whim, but she was too disoriented to think much of it.
In fact, she didn’t think much of her situation in general until Hadwin asked about her day, which… she oddly found difficult to recall. But while the particular events somewhat eluded her, an overwhelming feeling of happiness had settled in her mind. Something good had happened that day--perhaps more than one thing. Her pale lips curled into a smile as she lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “I don’t quite… it’s strangely hard to recall everything. My mind feels tired. But… oh, I saw the parade floats up close. And I think… I got a hat with a comically large brim--oh! Wait, I remember.” Her eyes shot open again. “Nico. I think I was with Nico today. He took me to see the floats, and he got me the hat. And…” And then what? Her mind was drawing a blank. Pictures, snippets of moments, played in her mind, but nothing concrete. “I saw… a lot of performers on the streets. But it was so hot out today. I remember feeling so hot, it gave me a headache, and…” And then what? When and where did she fall asleep? Had Nico been with her? And how had she ended up here… wherever here was? It wasn’t her usual room at the palace. This one was more ornate, with billowing curtains and altogether a different architecture.
As her mind struggled to connect the dots, there was a knock at the door, and who should walk in but Sylvie Canaveris. Sylvie? What was she doing here? Events of the other night were still clear as day in the young summoner’s mind: how she had been so crass toward Sylvie, and how she had ultimately put all of Ari’s guests in danger. She needed to apologize--and maybe that was why Sylvie was there?
Except… it was Sylvie who apologized. And it left Teselin in a state of confusion. Why was Sylvie apologizing to her, when it was she who had been in the wrong? Slowly, but surely, her mind began to fill in the blanks. As to why she had found herself in the D’Marian settlement to begin with. Sylvie… she had come to apologize to Sylvie, with an armful of sweets, her magic carefully contained by the manacle constricting and burning her right arm, wearing a colourful dress as a pitiful means to reach out to the girl’s sense of fashion and caring what she put on her body, which was far more heightened than the young summoner’s. But Sylvie had turned her down and refused her hand… at which point, Nico had taken it. For whatever reason, he wasn’t afraid of her the way Sylvie was. He’d thought she deserved a day of fun and excitement, and wanted to make that happen for her. She wondered where he was now.
“Oh… it’s alright, Sylvie. I guess I shouldn’t have expected you just to take my word for it. I could have shown you, but… well, I’m not sure that would have proven anything, either.” As to why Nico had chosen to believe her (or otherwise just take the chance) was another question entirely, and continued to baffle her. “I was able to do what I set out to do which… well, was apologize to you. Honestly, I never really thought you would want to spend time around me again so soon, but…” But I’d hoped it, she almost said, but thought better of it. After the disaster that she had caused, the damage she had done (even if everyone had walked away unscathed, thanks to Tivia Rigas), she had never felt so desperate to live a day in the life of someone without magic. So as much as she wanted to claim she had only wanted to deliver an apology… that wasn’t entirely true.
“I just wanted you to know that I regret speaking to you the way I did the other night. I wish I hadn’t treated you that way; it was unkind and unnecessary. Our experiences are different, and I had no right to invalidate your feelings.” Everything she said was true: in fact, she had a hard time reconciling that she had ever treated Sylvie that way. No amount of apologies would suffice for making Ari’s niece feel badly. More quietly, she added, “I wish we had met a few years ago… I was a different person. More naive, I guess, but I think I would’ve been a far better friend for you…”
As reality began to slowly sink in, what Hadwin told her did not resonate with too much shock. Of course, it would make sense that she wasn’t at the palace, and that Sylvie was here. She had no memory of losing consciousness; just of bearing the intense heat of a hot summer’s day and seeking shade when she suspected she was beginning to hallucinate. She’d been staring at a buttercup for a while, one that, for some reason, had been significant to her compared to all the others that had yet to be plucked from the ground…
Her eyes shifted to the manacle (or what was left of it) which still sat on the floor, precisely where it had fallen from her arm. Teselins’ heart did sink a bit at the fact that she couldn’t use it again, at least not in its current form, but the fact that it still remained did not mean all was lost. After all, it could be formed into something else… perhaps something less detrimental than an armband. “No… it’s not useful as it is now.” The young summoner agreed with a soft sight. “But I think… it’s for the better. Perhaps as a manacle it was too detrimental. If I can turn it into something else, it might not prove so dangerous.”
“Wait--wait, hold it right there.” Nia appeared to have returned at just the right time. She hadn’t heard the majority of the young summoner’s conversation with Hadwin and Sylvie (who must have snuck in, unbeknownst to her uncle). The Master Alchemist closed the door behind her and shook her head, already prepared to unleash whatever barrage of the word no that she could. Whatever it took to get it through Teselin’s head. “Tes, hunny… I’m glad you’re awake. But I’m not sure you understand just how badly your life was in jeopardy because of that hunk of enchanted metal.”
“I do understand, Nia. I should have taken better care not to wander off alone. But… I think… what happened, it could be a good thing. It gives an idea into my limitations.” Teselin spoke with such confidence, it was almost as if she had no regrets for what had occurred that day, or the fear that everyone who cared about her felt. “I once survived an entire night in a holding cell that suppressed magic. Yes, I was very sick by the next morning, but I fully recovered in hours. Right, Hadwin?” She flashed a smile to the faoladh in the corner. The one person she could count on not leaving her behind. “It was when I first met you. So I’m learning how different magic suppressing means affect me differently. It might take me a while to figure out, and I can’t guarantee I won’t get hurt again… but I’ll heal. I always heal quickly. And I think this is the answer.” She nodded to the hunk of metal on the floor. “Just… in a different form. In different doses. I’ll find something that works.”
Nia’s frustration was very close to overshadowing her compassion, and she knew she wasn’t the only one. Neither Hadwin nor Sylvie appeared to be in agreement over her ‘solution’. Why couldn’t Teselin see that this was an inherently bad idea? “Move your arm for me,” she requested gently, yet firmly. “See if you can grasp something.”
Teselin at first appeared startled at the request, but obediently complied… and failed. Her arm did rise a few shaky inches, and her fingers twitched into some semblance of a grip around the empty cup in her lap, but she couldn’t pick it up. Taking a breath, she exhaled slowly and then tried again. And again…
“...Al tended to your arm. He reversed a lot of the damage. But you may not always have him around to do that. And even then, he could only do so much. The rest is up to your body regrowing severed nerves, and you’re probably going to have to deal with that scar tissue for the rest of your life unless you undergo some invasive surgery. Do you understand the point I’m trying to make, Tes?” Nia gently took her trembling arm and lowered it back to her lap. Her brown eyes swam with concern and sadness. “You can’t honestly believe it’s worth it. Hurting yourself--and vicariously hurting those who care about you--just to… to what? Feel like you have the right to exist? You already have that right, hun. You didn’t ask to exist; no one asks for their own existence.”
The young summoner couldn’t meet their eyes. Nia had pressed a sore spot in bringing up how much fear she had struck in their hearts by deteriorating to the extent that her life had been endangered. That had never been her intent, and she didn’t want to make anyone worry, but… “What alternative do I have?” Her voice barely resonated above a whisper, and it was answered only with silence. No one could help her: not Alster. Not Vitali. Not Isidor… not even Nia. There were no alternatives. “...I just want to live my life, Nia. Without… having to worry about hurting people I care about. Really hurting them.” Her eyes briefly settled on Sylvie, who, she had learned, had nearly died because of her. Did Ari know this? And did he hate her because of it? “That’s… all I want. If I have to live with only one functioning arm because of it…” Once again, she made an attempt to raise her injured arm. “...that’s a small price to pay.”
Nia didn’t have words. It seemed no one did. Silently, the Master Alchemist bent down to pick up the useless piece of metal, and set it aside on one of the end tables. She then rested her hand on Teselin’s forehead and frowned. “Your fever’s coming back… I want you to get some rest, okay? I’m going to mix you an elixir to take a little later to help your body recover. And… we should get you back to your room.” She pivoted to Sylvie and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Before your uncle finds you here. Can I trust you to keep Tes company, Hadwin?” She shot a grin in the faoladh’s direction, but it was lined with concern. “Come find me if anything happens; I’m gonna go take over Ari’s study for a while, where Is set up when he was treating you. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Lilica, in all honesty, had not come over unannounced thinking that Aristide Canaveris would be thinking of anything but his own people. She did not know him as well as Chara, but through their leadership of different (albeit connected) people, she was beginning to understand exactly what kind of leader he was. And above all, he, like she, was a new leader. Not someone that Stella D’Mare had looked up to for years. Perhaps the greatest difference was that Ari had sought this position--whereas she had had it dumped on her, with no choice but to accept, or else deprive an entire kingdom of hope that they so deserved to feel. It therefore made perfect sense that his concerns, first and foremost, reflected those of his people. And she couldn’t blame him.
“Chara says that when Miss Ardane paid a visit to the palace today, she suggested I be wary of the kingdom perceiving my treatment of Vitali compared to that of Teselin, should I choose to react to what happened last night, as reflecting nepotism. She is not wrong: Vitali was taken into custody, but he does not reside in the dungeons below, and it is his younger sister who yet faces more scrutiny. But the truth is… I feel I’ve more in common with Teselin Kristeva than that of the necromancer, despite that I am only related to her through a shared brother.” The Galeynian queen clasped her hands behind her back and sighed. “I am not a summoner, but I know all too well what it is like to be haunted by your own magic. And if I am being honest… I feel the kingdom has less reason to forgive me than it does Miss Kristeva. After all, one of the first things I did as queen was attack the Sentinel tree in the Night Garden.”
It was perhaps one of her least proud moments… but one that she knew she could not, and should not hide (she wasn’t even sure if it was possible, considering many had witnessed it, and word traveled fast throughout the small kingdom). “All of us has a darkness within us; mine was more pronounced than that of others. And when I realized the weight of this kingdom had fallen upon my shoulders, I was… I was angry. I was distraught. And I was in pain, and I wanted someone, something else to feel that pain. I had no idea that my blood connection to the Night Garden would prevent me from harming it in any meaningful way; no one knew this, not until I struck. But unlike Teselin Kristeva, who never meant for the world to come crashing down around everyone last night… I wanted that tree to hurt, Ari. I came in with the intent to harm. And yet… somehow, and I don’t know how, but Galeyn finds it in itself to forgive me. For that act. For not acting soon enough when Locque terrorized us all. They always forgive me… and for that, I feel--no, I know that Teselin deserves the same kind of forgiveness. Because she has far fewer shadows following her than I do. Anyone who has fallen to her magic has never fallen to her intent to kill, because it isn’t there. She doesn’t want to hurt. According to Chara and Elespeth who, aside from Hadwin, have known her the longest, she has only ever wanted to help. And…”
Lilica paused and unclasped her hands. “I can only say… that I hope Galeyians and D’Marians will find it in themselves to forgive her. And to understand her plight. However, what I hope and what I think realistically are two different things. And that I, like you, must act in a way that reflects my peoples’ wishes. I agree with your stance, Ari: let the talk blow over, let the atmosphere simmer and cool, and then with any luck, the D’Marians and Galeynians will be too invested in their lives to fear Teselin’s presence here. I realize it must not have been easy for you to open your doors to her tonight… but I daresay you would have been held in greater contempt, had you not offered her sanctuary, and she had died. You did the right thing on all counts.”
This man, however, looked to be in dire need of rest. She did not want to keep him; her only hope would be that when she left, it would be with an understanding between the two of them. “I hope that as the remainder of the festivities unfold, the kingdom as a whole can remember what the celebration is all about: coming together as connected entities, people who breathe the same air and share the soil. Branding someone with a sense of ‘otherness’ goes against what we all--Galeynians and D’Marians--have all fought for. Perhaps between the two of us, we can help our respective people remember this. But above all…” Her expression softened. “Please take care, Ari. I hope you know that your hard work in bringing a sense of joy to this kingdom is recognized.”
When Ari retired shortly after, in dire need of rest, he did not find Nia waiting for them in their shared bedroom. Of course, Laz had tabs on everything, and was able to redirect him to his study, where the Master Alchemist had holed up to make good on her promise to concoct an elixir exclusive to Teselin’s genetic makeup to encourage her recovery. In addition, it gave her a reasonable excuse to stay up well past her allotted ‘bedtime’ to make good on her promise to Nico. Even Isidor wouldn’t begrudge her this small breach of rule, considering she was working to help his sister.
“Oh--Ari. Sorry, I know I should have asked…” Nia looked from the Canaveris lord and back to the desk, which she had currently occupied with her own supplies: some which Isidor had left behind, and others she had been permitted upon request. A rather rudimentary kit for a Master Alchemist, and nothing near what Isidor had at his disposal at the palace, but enough for her to deal with minor emergencies, such as the one at hand. “Seems like Tes is out of the woods in terms of endangering her life, but she still can’t quite shake that fever. I’m putting together something to encourage her recovery.”
Nia pinched the wick of a candle, drawing on the oxygen and flammable components of the air to ignite a flame, over which she held a vial of dark violet liquid. “Unfortunately there’s only enough ingredients here for a single dose, but it should get her through until she’s stable enough to take to the Night Garden tomorrow. I promise I’ll come to bed as soon as it’s done--after I clean up and put everything back exactly the way it was. My workspace isn’t quite as chaotic as Isidor’s.” Her mouth stretched into a grin, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Because she knew she and Ari found themselves at a crossroads in terms of how they felt about the predicament that was Teselin. And neither of them could blame the other for feeling the way they did. Ari was under a lot of pressure to yield to what his people would want him to do; and she, an ‘other’, an outcast herself, couldn’t turn her back on a fellow outcast in need.
“Hey… they didn’t announce the winners of the parade, did they? I thought I heard it was postponed, but I don’t really trust what I know or don’t know about what’s going down with the Solstice celebrations.” It was a poor attempt to change the subject, but it turned out that at least she’d heard right about this particularity. Votes were still coming in; understandably, the people were a little delayed after last night. “...well, if you ask me, none of ‘em stand a chance against ours, anyway. They’d save time just giving us the win we deserve, right?”
But the float was the last thing on both of their minds, and they both knew it. Nia removed the vial from the candle flame; the liquid had gone from opaque to translucent purple. “I shouldn’t be much longer. Go and get a head start on rest. I’ll be there shortly.” When he complied and left for bed, the Master Alchemist added a couple more key ingredients to the elixir, then stopped the vial with a cork. True to her word, she then returned the study to its previous arrangement, and dropped off the elixir to Hadwin, who she instructed to give to Teselin when she awoke the next morning. Then, after drawing the girl’s fever out one more time, she kept to the shadows, and made her way to Nico’s room, where she knocked twice. It was a little later than he’d originally instructed, and she was sure he’d give her shit for it, but better late than give Ari any reason for suspicion.
“I know, I know--later than we agreed. I had to shake your uncle off my trail and make something to speed along Tes’s recovery. I trust you’ve been keeping busy?” True to his word, he had. The Ardane woman held out her hand as he placed a brand new resonance stone into her palm--gently, she’d noted. Wow; was he really trying to be considerate of her burns? “Perfect. I’ll leave it with her. We need to get her to the Night Garden tomorrow… and I have a feeling your uncle won’t want her back here anytime soon. But… so far, he hasn’t said anything about you being forbidden to visit central Galeyn.”
Pocketing the stone, she met Nico’s eyes, and her smile faded. “I’m worried for her. It’s up in the air as to whether she’ll ever regain full use of her arm… but she’s not willing to be done with that manacle. She’s convinced it’s the only way she can lead a normal life; feels it’s worth the risk to her life. I can’t get through to her, but maybe someone closer to her age can. Ari would hate me for saying this, but… seems like you brought her a lot of hope, today. You’re good for Tes.”
She would’ve reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but Nico would have interpreted it as condescending; and her hands were far from healed. “Thanks for the salve, by the way. Really takes the edge off the pain enough for me to work. You really can’t beat the simpler ingredients, huh?” Nia’s grin returned, and she stuffed her bandaged hands into her pockets. “‘Night, Nico. Don’t ever stop following your heart.”
Sylvie clutched at her skirts, beside herself despite Teselin’s reassurances of no wrongdoing on her part. Yet, wasn’t she wrong for rejecting an earnest plea for forgiveness, no matter the source? True, Teselin was a crystallized force of nature ready to shatter, but Sylvie sought out her friendship for specific reasons (her status as a summoner and her minor celebrity in Stella D’Mare for creating a tidal wave to stave off Mollengard’s extensive fleet), and those reasons shouldn’t fluctuate just because her convictions wavered upon seeing—and experiencing—the pinnacle of her newfound friend’s incredible power. In fact, couldn’t it be said that facing Teselin at her worst was an initiation of sorts, and having survived, she was better prepared for any relapses or resurgences, in the future?
Alas, Sylvie was unable to lie to herself. Hadwin Kavanagh could sense her unease from miles away; the fear that prickled on her skin from so much as sharing space with Teselin, nevermind her weakened constitution hindering her ability to create the faintest spark of lighting in the ozone—unless the current storm brewing outside was her doing, but she doubted it true. The streaming rain and accompanying rumbles of thunder didn’t share the intensity and desperation associated with Teselin at her most unleashed, raw, terrifying self. Was she still not appealing to the summoner out of fear for the alternative? If Teselin ever surrendered to her wrath, wouldn’t she first target those who wronged and rejected her? Could she, at her most wounded and unhinged, target Ari?
For some inexplicable reason, she sought Hadwin for guidance. The faoladh trained his eyes downward, deliberate in avoiding her gaze and respectful of her discomfort in his presence. But, as if responding to the crushing weight of her concern, he lifted his head, their eyes met…and he shook his head. No. Responding to a question she didn’t realize her fear-laden mind had asked.
No. Teselin lacked the finesse, control or resentment to single out and target anyone. Wicked or pure, if a hapless person happened to linger in her vicinity at peak distress, they, and many others, would fall victim to her far-engulfing radius of devastation. No arrow-shot precision for a summoner; only a widespread, incalculable storm, its chaotic trajectory and inexactitude of motion exactly what deemed it as dangerous. Anyone who abided the company of the unpredictable was flirting with danger.
Yet…why hasn’t she remained hidden? Why did her worry for Teselin’s well-being override her self-preservation?
She does not mean to be this way. The same as a toddler does not mean to try your patience when they tear out the pages of your favorite novel or unravel your embroidery like a willful kitten. It is right to feel anger, or in this case, fear, but…how will directing your frustration resolve the pain, in the long term?
“No. I was petulant and a fool. Lovelorn, dense, short-sighted…you had every right to react as you did,” Sylvie admitted as she turned back to the hurt and hurting woman in the bed. “I, however, disagree with your assessment that I would have preferred the company of a younger iteration of you. These last few years, I have endured my own number of hardships,” she twisted the tourmaline ring around her finger, hesitating to go on. How improper to admit, out loud, her struggles, which surely paled in comparison! “I am not so naive as you think me. Delusional, perhaps, because I yearned to escape into a better world not plagued by war, death, diaspora, and…curses,” she muttered the last bit, her voice as wary and timid as a mouse. “Sadly, I know what awaits outside these walls. I suppose I wished to preserve for myself the remains of a fanciful, childlike life, which I have long desired, but seldom received. Not to belittle the horrors you no doubt have endured,” she hurried, not wanting to come across as insensitive, “but I thought it most prudent to share my perspective, along with my own glaring inadequacies. Shhh,” with a shaky smile, she placed a finger to her lips, “we mustn’t tell other Canaverises of my ingratitudes. I am most blessed to be born into this family, really.”
As the subject shifted to more grave matters—namely, Teselin’s unfaltering interest in continuing to rely on the manacle’s magic-stifling abilities, regardless of the detriments to her health—neither Sylvie nor Hadwin hardly had the chance to squeeze in a word before Nia reappeared through the door and very swiftly expressed her disdain.
Hadwin, for once uneasy to be put on the spot, shuffled his shoulders against the wall at Teselin’s question, failing to match her smile. “I’m no magical aficionado, Tes, and only have a pinch of an insider’s look into Mollengard’s whole operation, but from what I’ve learned, those manacles are riddled with null stones. It’s concentrated as all get out; Mollengard’s engineers didn’t want to take their chances allowing any errant wisps of magic to escape, so they designed it to be airtight. What you’re carting around is a smaller but way more intense version of the Rigas stultification dungeons. So I imagine that little metal bracelet does a hell of an efficient job choking the daylights out of your magic, and in short order, too. There are ways of fine-tuning the process, sure, for a better custom fit, but I ain’t the one to ask. And I sure as hell can’t argue with your decision.” He stumbled off his perch against the wall, looking more haggard and uncoordinated than Sylvie had ever seen him, which was noteworthy, considering he spent most of his time at the Canaveris villa bedridden. “I get it, kid. This kind of life sucks. And you’re right. What other solutions are out there at the moment? Sometimes, a quick fix is all we’ve got,” he glanced at the empty bottles of wine he must have downed earlier. “Just be careful, yeah? If we do this, we gotta do this right, with plenty of failsafes in place and the approval of your bro and Al, and maybe Nia—whoever can finagle this thing to work at its optimal level for you. Just remember the thing about a quick fix, though. It’s a bandage, not a solution. So you gotta promise me we’ll continue to research solutions, or else I’m gonna take that thing and destroy it.” A hard, unyielding line crossed his yellow-fire eyes. “Understand?”
“I am inclined to agree with Mister Kavanagh,” Sylvie said, focusing her attention away from the diminished, browbeaten man in a show of preserving his dignity. He looked so worn-out and frayed; nothing of the roguish rapscallion he embodied on even the worst of days. It was as though the day’s events rubbed all liveliness raw from his stooped body, exposing an age far exceeding his years. “Do proceed with the utmost care. We cannot have you sacrifice prolonged motor insufficiencies or worse in this noble yet unsustainable pursuit. Perhaps I can research the properties of crystals and ascertain which might augment your physical resiliency and endurance. Let me do as I can, as a concerned party and…” she formed a sincere smile, “as a friend, Teselin.”
Reluctantly, she followed Nia outside Teselin’s sick chambers, but not before intimating a hearty and encouraging farewell—which she also directed toward Hadwin. If the summoner deserved her clemency, then so did he, as another personage who simply did not mean to romance her. In exchange, the faoladh smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. And before she shuffled down the hallway with Nia in tow, her acute ears detected what he had chosen to utter behind closed doors.
“Hey, scamp…ever think there’s a hope in hell for us? Just…as we are?”
However much Ari respected Lilica’s counsel and her confessions, and however much he agreed on the unfairness of mishandled expectations—a Queen received allowances on her malicious behavior, for example, yet a benevolent young woman received scorn for reasons she could not control—their discussions, unfortunately, failed to change his mind. It was not empathy he lacked; he understood the injustice of Teselin’s undeserved punishment, and gathering more empathy and more perspective would only do to clog his emotional centers and blind him from making a sound, balanced decision. Considering the accident she wrought, through no fault of her own, she was ultimately responsible for her magic, just as he bore responsibility for his people should they have sustained any injuries or distress in his home, under his careful watch. Neither he nor Teselin was to blame, but they had to do something in the immediate aftermath, lest they—rather, he—collect accusations of inaction, insensitivity, or negligence.
While Ari noticed Teselin doing her part in stifling the potential for a recurrence by carting around her magic-nullifying manacle, relying on its properties was akin to rolling the dice, and never did he want the kind and respectful summoner to risk death every time she chose to interact with society. His method was little better; cutting her away from society impacted the problem and didn’t solve matters, but it was, at present, the most compassionate decree he could make while still satisfying the demands of his people. Self-preservation at its finest, true, but if the alternative—allowing her to mingle if equipped with the manacle—endangered Teselin’s life, what other options did he have to ensure everyone remained safe? Because, in the end, it mattered little that Lilica’s intentions had been worse. Her rampage to wound the Sentinel Tree never endangered the tree itself, and her magic was containable. Stoppable. In comparison, everything about Teselin, the very make-up of her existence, was worse because, with very rare exceptions, she could not be stopped. And that was what Ari had to weigh. Not her moral character, or her innocence, but her danger to civilization.
Nia, of course, felt differently, and he would need to approach her sooner or later. Better to do it sooner. The last thing in the world he desired was to force a rift between them based on their shifting ideologies, though a worrisome part of him feared he already had.
“Nia,” he stepped into his office, which she had repurposed as an alchemist’s workshop, like Isidor before her. He didn’t mind the occasional transformation, especially for important projects such as the health of a young woman under his care, and Nia was certainly more of a conscientious organizer than Isidor. It filled him with relief to notice nothing had been rearranged or thrown into disarray. His office was, after all, where he kept his most important papers. “Good evening. Laz told me I might find you inside. And no, it is fine,” he waved off a hand of dismissal at her apology for overtaking his area. “I am not currently using the space, and this is for a far more urgent cause. You are more than welcome to take as much time as you need. How is Miss Teselin faring?”
He nodded, genuine relief spreading across his brow. “That is fortunate news. If a persistent fever is the worst of her pertinent troubles, then she should encounter little trouble traveling to the Night Garden on the morrow.” He swept a hand through his hair, still damp on the ends from his foray in the rain. While he had since changed out of his damp clothes, the evidence of his weakness-borne moment lingered.
“The results of the float competition? Ah, we were to announce the winners this afternoon and host a ceremony, but not everyone has had the opportunity to vote, so I delayed the results two more days. Although…I do have a strong suspicion as to the winner. Alas, I will not spoil the surprise.” Although he wore a mischievous smile, it also did not spread to any other parts of his face, or the rest of his body, which remained stiff and listless. He caught the subtext behind Nia’s halfhearted complaint about her limited knowledge of the Solstice festivities, and wondered of the impact it made on her well-being, to be presented with a minimalized role when she before expressed so much enthusiasm in being involved with every aspect of the activities. “I do owe you an apology, Nia. For leaving you out of the planning committee, as it were. I meant no disrespect, but between constructing the float and rehabilitating your strength and health, I did not wish to overburden you with too much at once. Though I realize, I should have been more forthcoming with the information. I hope you forgive me. I do, however, have a possible assignment for you. A collaboration, if you are interested in working with me again?” His smile turned a little sad. What if I have dashed my chances to reconnect? Surely, she will reject me…
He cleared his throat of those persistent, morose thoughts. “Chara might murder me for disclosing this information to you, but she plans on proposing to Queen Lilica during the Solstice festival…and asked for my help in arranging a spectacle fit for a Queen, and a kingdom. In fact, this may be why, in part, she acted in hostility toward you, if she interpreted your expeditiousness as a plot to unseat her plans. Nonetheless…why not assist me? At my most conservative estimate, contributing to Lady Chara’s proposal will improve your standing with her and with Her Majesty. Give it some thought when you have a chance.”
Before he retreated to the door, granting Nia the solitude she required to finish mixing Teselin’s elixir, he stopped mid-stride, and reapproached the desk behind which she sat, holding something small and glistening between his fingers. “This might not amount to much, but I want Miss Teselin to have this.” He placed an amber-colored vial on the desk. “Isidor presented this tonic to me, to aid in slowing my heart rate and my stress response during anticipated emotionally volatile situations, and for mitigating the onset of flare-ups. I do not have much left, and Isidor—or perhaps you—can always concoct more, but she needs this more than I do, at present. Please give it to her. After placing a drop or two on my tongue at the start of my day, I have seen significant success insofar as I have not yet experienced a flare-up while under its influence. May this aid her in whichever way you see fit. In any case,” he again excused himself, this time for real, as he headed for the door, his movements sluggish and remorseful, “she will need to depart my villa by tomorrow morning. She and Mister Kavanagh, both.”
Nico tried to act affronted when he opened the door to Nia’s hour late summons, but it mostly came off as a noncommittal harrumph. If not for her delayed arrival, he would not have considered adding a little something extra to the bundle for Teselin.
“It is a non-issue, Miss Nia,” he said, as flippantly as possible. “Miss Kristeva’s health is paramount, and staving off my uncle’s suspicions, also paramount. Be that as it may…” his features softened, “I will try to reach Miss Kristeva. I for one do not find her magic a debilitating curse, but in leading to believe that it is, she inadvertently grants the most destructive elements of her magic power. How others react inevitably feeds into her panic…but it is neither here nor there for me to speculate. Here; as promised,” he set a small stone upon Nia’s bandaged palm, jet-black, smooth to the touch, and shapely as a pond-stone, oblong and flat. “This pair should do wonderfully for now. But that is not all I have for you to deliver.” In his opposite hand, he lifted something small and square, wrapped in several layers of crepe paper. “A present. For her. If you dare open it, I will know,” he gave his best baleful glare, challenging her to accuse him of bluffing or waving off his threat as nothing but lip-service. “Instruct her not to open it until she is alone in her room. Then…she can do with it what she likes. In fact, I encourage her to destroy it. She will understand the reference…and my reasons,” he concluded, cryptically, and made no attempts to elaborate his meaning.
He raised one intrigued eyebrow at her suggestion that he visit Teselin at the palace. “You do realize you might jeopardize your standing with my uncle by actively encouraging his nephew to interact with a person of interest he is hellbent on isolating from his family? What will you do then, Miss Nia? If you fray his trust?” For once, he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of Nia. It was an honest, innocent question, and associated with its echo, yet unspoken. Are you willing to hurt the man you love…for me? And Teselin?
“Why?” He ended up saying, in the end. “Why do you care so much what happens to Miss Kristeva? Do you not have what you want?” He gestured to the hallway, to the ceiling, to the veined marble floors. “A home? A man who adores you? Relative stability? Yet, you are ready to lie to him or, at the very least, keep secrets from him. About his family. This may not end well for you. Even with my uncle…there are several lines you must not cross. And for us,” his voice pitched down to so low a whisper, Nia was forced to read his lips to interpret his next batch of words, “the walls have ears. Laz.”
Of course, while everyone else around her questioned her methods, Teselin knew she could rely on Hadwin to see her reasoning behind the risks she was taking. Hadwin had known her longer than anyone, knew what she could withstand, and frankly, what he had to say instilled a good deal of hope in the young summoner. Yes, she understood what she had done was dangerous, and could have ended in tragedy, but there was no denying that it was still a learning experience. Learning her limits, learning what didn’t work well enough or what worked too well. Mollengard did not cut corners when it came to their magical technology; but it could be tampered with. The young summoner truly believed she had found the solution, and that it was just a matter of tweaking it to mitigate danger to herself. Hadwin was right: this wasn’t a solution. But, it would work for now.
“Of course. I--no, we will figure it out safely. I’ve got so many people who can help me… so many capable people. Every single one of you.” Teselin beamed in relief that they weren’t about to take the ruined manacle and toss it into the fire, melting it down to nothing. “There is a solution out there… but for now, that hunk of metal is all I’ve got, if I want to know what it feels like to be normal. I just want to live, knowing I’ve had that experience. But to live like that… I don’t ever want to live in fear that I might hurt any of you, ever again.”
Her dark eyes flicked to Sylvie, and something akin to sorrow swam in their feverish depths. To think, she had almost killed her… and yet, still, Sylvie Canaveris reached out to extend a hand in friendship. Teselin knew she didn’t deserve it, and couldn’t help but wonder if Sylvie felt she was here against her better judgment. She didn’t deserve Sylvie as a friend; but she wasn’t about to turn her away. “I’m not sure I deserve you as a friend after what happened to you, Sylvie. But if you think I’m worth your time and effort… I don’t want to try to change your mind. Thank you, for giving me another chance.”
When at last she was left alone in the room with only Hadwin, Teselin shifted her body to face her longtime friend and confidant and smiled. “I don’t know. I can’t say what I believe for certain. But… I think the answer will only reveal itself to us if we pursue it. We--I can’t sit around and hope for the best anymore, Hadwin. I have to act. And so… that is what I am going to do. Take control of my destiny and future.” That smile faltered when her eyes settled on his face. He looked so… run down. Depleted. And it was all because of her… “...I’m so sorry to have worried you. I should have taken a resonance stone, to keep you in the know. I promise I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Well, I would’ve come to ask, first, but I understood you were meeting with some important guests and didn’t think they’d take kindly to me butting it. Although…” Nia wasn’t so oblivious as not to take notice of his somewhat rakish appearance. The way his hair hung in clumps around his face and neck. “Did you… hold your meeting outside, in the rain?” Certainly that would be a strange and unlikely deviation from how she knew the D’Marian leader, one who always sought to look his best and provide the utmost hospitality. But drawing attention to weaknesses in appearance also tended to trigger Ari, so the Master Alchemist was quick to let it drop.
“Ah--well, like I said, the voting’s only really a formality, right? Ours was by far superior. We’ve got victory in the bag. But, I’ll let Alster and Isidor hold out hope for a little longer that there’s a faint possibility they might have won, I suppose.” However, if and when they were handed their victory, would anyone who worked on the Canaveris float really care, after all that had happened? Would Ari have a clear enough head to accept an award? Or Nico or Sylvie? Nia was already beyond caring about the countless hours she’d put into a silly float. There was too much else on her mind; if they won the crowd’s preferred choice, she wasn’t confident that she could convincingly come across as if she really cared.
Truth be told, she didn’t even care about the wedding anymore, something that had been her idea to begin with. Her motivation had been sapped from her throughout her conversation with Chara Rigas earlier that day, and as soon as she found herself amidst the crisis that was Teselin Kristeva and her well-being, what was left of her passion to put any more of her energy into these frivolous festivities. Regardless of what Ari meant to offer to make up for his lack of communication, her answer would have been the same… but she certainly hadn’t expected that he’d had another plot up his sleeve all this time.
“Wait--hold on. So Chara Rigas… she plans to propose to Queen Lilica? How long has this been in the works?” All disappointment aside that Ari had neglected to keep her involved in what had been her original plan to begin with, Nia was far more uninformed than she’d thought. Alster and Elespeth’s second wedding was to be a sweet token to attest to their friendship, to show them both how much she valued that they’d ultimately given her a chance. But a proposal, and to Galeyn’s rightful Queen, no less… that was practically a historical event. And a ballsy move: while Galeyn might have embraced their new queen, opinions of Chara Rigas continued to vary. Some would not take kindly to an official union between herself and Queen Lilica, but that she was willing to endure the barrage of naysayers and opposition that would surely follow… well, Nia had to give Chara credit for her bravery. That said, she couldn’t imagine the haughty Rigas woman would want her to have any part of such an important moment in her life. One that could never be repeated and yield the same authenticity as the first time. Regardless of how involved or uninvolved she was with the surprise wedding, having a part in something as noteworthy as Chara Rigas’s proposal to Lilica Tenebris would not be welcome.
Nia extinguished the candle’s flame by pinching the wick and carefully corked the vial. It gave her the excuse not to have to look Ari in the eye. “Chara Rigas and I are not on good terms. I really did try, you know; I wanted to get on her good side. But the woman is fucking exhausting and can’t be reasoned with. I appreciate you trying to involve me in more of what’s happening, but… I wouldn’t put it past her to kill the both of us if you happened to involve her least favourite person in a particularly important and personal event.” She wouldn’t put it past the Rigas woman to cancel the whole event if she found out who had had a hand in it behind the scenes, out of pure spite. It would not end well… Surely Ari was aware of that? “If something has become abundantly clear to me… it’s that nothing I do will improve my standing with anyone. With Galeyn. Not even when Stella D’Mare. After all, people unite around a common villain, or someone to hate. Where would the kinship be if I didn’t fill that role?” It was a sad reality that Nia was beginning to face, but one that she could no longer hide from. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter, so long as those who did matter were on her side: Ari, Alster, Elespeth, Hadwin. They were what mattered: not Chara, or Lilica, or the whole of Galeyn.
“Thanks, though. For thinking of me. I guess I made a mistake thinking that forcing myself into these preparations would make me one of the good guys. I didn’t have much foresight into the reality I’d actually be facing.” The Master Alchemist took a rag and carefully wiped down the surface she had been working on, to ensure that no residues of any materials she’d been working with remained. “But, who knows--maybe Chara will be doing me a favour, here. No one’s gonna care about the woman who worked for Locque when they’re anticipating an actual royal wedding somewhere down the road, right? It’ll take the spotlight off of me for a while.”
Nia only looked up from her work when Ari approached her, holding out another vial in offering. With a slight shake of her head, she closed his fingers back around it. “No, hold onto that. Isidor made it for you for a reason; and in any case, it’s tailored to your biology. It won’t work as effectively on anyone else. But thanks for the idea: it might be worth mentioning to Is tomorrow. He can make one exclusively for Teselin.” She withdrew her hand from his and turned back to the desk to gather her instruments and supplies. The tone his voice had taken in uttering that final phrase didn’t sit right with her. “Of course they’re departing tomorrow. Teselin needs to spend some time in the Night Garden, under the care of Gardeners, until I’ll be convinced she’s alright. And anywhere she goes, Hadwin will follow.”
Of course, while she framed her reasoning as part of the necessity of ensuring Teselin’s well-being, she was not so foolish as to mistake Ari’s insistence for concern. He didn’t want her out of the Canaveris villa as soon as possible because it was the best move to ensure her recovery: he wanted to be rid of a problem.
Their conversation ended there, and shortly after she had cleaned up and returned the room to its former state, Nia made her way down the darkened corridors to deliver on her promise to Ari’s nephew. Until now, it had never crossed her mind that between Nico and Ari, she would have an easier time talking to the former. Then again, up until just now, the two had no common grounds upon which to stand. To think, all of that changed so rapidly because of Teselin…
It rather amazed Nia that some of the most sound words she had heard that day with relation to the young summoner’s destructive powers were coming from none other than Nico Canaveris. Which was heartening, because it lent evidence that her suspicions were, in fact, right: the kid was good for Teselin, because he presented the point of view that no one else could. Not that she was worthy in spite of her uncanny and earth-rending powers, but that they served as a valid and important part of her. Nico believed that she could exist in harmony with them, and not in spite of them. Somehow, he saw Teselin Kristeva as a whole package that deserved to be respected as a whole instead of feared. Why and how he came to that conclusion, considering that to Nia’s knowledge, the two did not know each other very well, was beyond the Master Alchemist. But perhaps she simply wasn’t giving Ari’s nephew enough credit: Nico, like his uncle, was an artist. He was observant, and there was no telling just what details he picked up on from afar. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had had his eye on Teselin for a while now, and had been biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to step into her life when the moment was right. Finally, he had found that opportunity… only to have it snatched away, because those in charge of his life saw the young summoner as unfit to be a companion to him.
She had to give him credit for his tenacity, however. Somehow, he cared enough that he wasn’t ready to give up. “Amazing. You’re beyond your years, kid; and I think… you could really change her life. You and your sister both, although I have a feeling Sylvie is more apt to play it safe and keep away like the good girl she is. And what’s this?” The Master Alchemist tilted her head curiously to the side as Nico handed her something firm, wrapped in layers of paper. Something that was undoubtedly a painting. “You want me to give this to her and… tell her to destroy it? Now, this is nothing scandalous, I assume?” She raised an eyebrow and planted one hand on her hip. “Hey, I’m still an adult, here. I don’t know what you paint in the privacy of your own chambers. Although, I suppose risqué doesn’t really seem to be your style. And I can’t see you gifting something like that to Tes in the condition she’s in. So I’ll pass it on.” The Ardane woman smiled and tucked the stiff square of parchment safely under one of her arms. “You have my word.”
The Master Alchemist’s smile didn’t falter when Nico questioned her motives--or, rather, her lack of cost-benefit analysis with regard to her stance. “Your uncle may not want Tes back here at the settlement anytime soon; I’d be betraying him by finding her a way to visit, regardless of his wishes. But I’m not doing that. The way I see it, I’m just reminding you of your agency, Nico. Besides, you said it yourself; Tes needs to keep the company of people who aren’t afraid she isn’t going to bring on an apocalypse. Not only will it be good for her, I think it’ll be a good first step in helping her discover she has more control over her power than she thinks. Of course, I can’t make you do anything; how far you choose to veer beyond your uncle’s expectations is up to you. Regardless of what I think.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal. She’d expected Nico to question her motivation and intentions… but, just as he was apt to do, the young man did manage to hit a nerve when he suggested that by helping Teselin by way of encouraging him, she may be a risk of throwing away everything she’d hoped of achieving. Everything she fought so hard to maintain.
“Why do I care? Because, kid, when I was Teselin’s age, I was running for my life. I was afraid all the time: couldn’t sleep, couldn’t let my guard down. I felt like I had no control over what happened to me, so every free moment I had I spent winning over anyone willing to sleep with me. Then I would ditch them and leave them in the cold, because it was the only way I could systematically destroy the part of myself that actually cared. And for years, that was my idea of stability. Because I’d never met anyone who saw me as anything aside from a threat to society, or a good piece of ass. And therefore, I stopped giving anyone the chance to get to know me. What I would have given for someone to just care… to tell me that I was worthy, instead of wasting time on temporary, superficial relationships. I’d have emerged a hell of a more well-rounded person.” Without thinking, she rubbed at the scar on her neck with her free hand; a reminder of what she had come from. What she had survived. “That’s why I care, kid; not because I feel like I have the freedom to do whatever the fuck I want, regardless of Ari’s wishes. But because as someone who once hated himself for their abilities, as someone who had once felt as alone and isolated as Teselin Kristeva, I can’t just turn my back on a person in need the way she is in need. If I can prevent one more young woman from not giving up on herself… maybe all the shit I went through will mean something. Besides,”
The corners of Nia’s mouth tilted upward, but not in her typical obnoxious grin, but in a soft smile. “You should give your uncle a little more credit. He’s not acting out of malice; he’s just afraid. Like a lot of people are, right now. And he’s under a lot of pressure. I think if it were up to him, if he were free to act and not be perceived poorly by his own people, he wouldn’t be so quick to keep Teselin away.”
Of course, there also existed the possibility that she was giving Ari too much credit. Perhaps he toted fear above his own conscience, and he’d never permit Teselin to set foot on these premises ever again. But… she had a hard time believing it. Even if it was simply because she didn’t want to believe it.
“I’m not lying to him. And I’m not keeping secrets; if he were to ask, I’d come clean and take the blame. But look at what we’ve been through, huh? Locque couldn’t keep us apart. The kingdom’s deep-seated hatred for me couldn’t, either. Don’t underestimate love, kid. It’s a hell of a lot stronger than fear.”
Nia knew he didn’t fancy her enough to be concerned for her, specifically, but she didn’t mistake the presence of concern in Nico’s dark eyes. She placed a light hand on his shoulder. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do. That’s up to you and your own heart. If going against the current is too dangerous, and not worth the risk to you, then don’t do it. But if ever you had a good reason to do it… I’d say it’s now.” The Master Alchemist removed her hand and, with the resonance stone tucked safely in her palm and the painting securely under her arm, nodded her goodnight. “Go get some rest, kid. You can count on me to deliver your gifts and your message.”
When Nia finally retired that night, she didn’t sleep well, waking every hour to the unconscious possibility that Teselin had grown unwell again. But Hadwin was staying with the summoner and knew where to find her if she took a turn, and she imagined the faoladh was not getting much sleep himself, as a result. When at last the sun crested the horizon, spilling liquid bronze into the bedroom through a crack in the curtains, the Master Alchemist was up before Ari, and--still clad in a nightgown--went to assuage her paranoid and check on Teselin and her wolf friend several doors and staircases away. And, of course, she did not leave empty-handed, but was sure to bring along a certain concealed painting, as well as a smooth, oval stone.
She wasn’t the only one awake at the crack of dawn, it seemed. Hadwin was already up and alert… and speaking with an unexpected visitor. “Isidor.” Nia blinked several times, wondering if her eyes deceived her. It wasn’t an illusion; Isidor Kristeva was there, and looked about as sleepless as she felt, his face drawn with concern.
“I ran into Alster earlier this morning. He couldn’t sleep, and I… can never sleep. He told me about Teselin…” The Kristeva man sighed his sister’s name; mournful, like he’d already lost her. “I changed her hair, her eyes… damnit all, I should never have complied! If I’d had half a brain to understand what she would do…”
“It’s not your fault. Your sister has a will of her own. Hey--when she wakes up, she’ll tell you herself… she actually had a good day, yesterday. Until…” Nia’s voice trailed off, but Isidor wasn’t listening. He was already moving toward Teselin’s sleeping form. According to Hadwin, she hadn’t stirred all night, but had remained stable, and her fever had dwindled to low-grade and generally non-threatening.
With the sort of strength Nia hadn’t realized that Isidor possessed, the reclusive man scooped his younger sister into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Teselin didn’t stir, but continued to sleep. “We need to take her to the Night Garden immediately. It will keep her stable so that we can assess any permanent damage.”
“Right--of course. I’ll go get a carriage ready and wait for you there. When we get to central Galeyn we can--”
“We? You’re not even dressed, Ardane. And there won’t be enough room for four people in a carriage.” He was already moving toward the door, with Hadwin in tow. “Thank you, though. Alster mentioned what you did… Good, quick thinking on your part. You have my gratitude, and I mean it.”
“Wait!” Before they could cross the doorframe, Nia handed the wrapped painting and the resonance stone to Hadwin. If she couldn’t go with them, then she needed to entrust these to someone who would deliver on making sure Teselin had them. “They’re for Tes. From someone who considers her a friend.” With them, she had scrawled a note on a piece of parchment that detailed Nico’s instructions. For her to unwrap the painting alone, along with the encouragement that she destroy it. “...I know you’ll see that she gets this.”
Reassured that Teselin was in good hands, and that Hadwin would see to it that she got that stone and that painting, Nia stood back as the two men carried the unconscious girl down the hallway and out to the carriage.
Teselin didn’t come to until several hours later, when the sun was high in the sky around midday. When she awoke, she registered her different surroundings yet again, but this time with the cognizance to recognize she lay in the Sanctuary in the Night Garden. She felt overly warm, and somewhat shaky, and when she tried to lift her right arm, she remembered why it was such a difficulty. Looking to the side, she spotted Hadwin in his human form, dozing in a chair next to her cot, and on the table at the opposite side sat a decanter of water, something square and wrapped, and a stone that resonated with a familiar sort of magic.
On top of the small, wrapped square, a piece of parchment with her name and the instructions “unwrap when alone, then destroy” encouraged her to carefully pick it up with her good arm and set it upon her lap. Without a doubt, the stone was a resonance stone, but she didn’t realize to whom it was linked until her fingers carefully unraveled the gauzy paper around what was unmistakably a painting. Immediately, her eyes took in hues of deep, vibrant violets and blues, cut with stark oranges and reds. The dangerous beauty of an electric storm… Something not so unlike what she had unleashed on Apelrade. It should have triggered her, but remembering her discussion with Nico, and how he destroyed every piece of art he completed, she couldn’t help but feel… privileged. In a way, this felt like his way of reassuring her that no matter what she unleashed on the world, he wasn’t afraid of her.
“...thank you, Nico…” She whispered, and stared at the resonance stone in her hand. Even if she was never allowed to set foot in the D’Marian settlement again, she knew she hadn’t seen the last of him.
It came as no surprise to find Nia’s side of the bed vacant, upon waking.
Considering their latest exchange of words and the tension broadening between them, it did not alarm Ari to stare at the ruffled bedsheets, bereft of their occupant, but it brought him an encroaching sense of malaise, nonetheless. On any normal day, he would think little of his partner’s early disappearance. As a busy man, himself, with an inexhaustible list of demands attached to his lofty title, he extended a great deal of understanding and empathy to others of his ilk, especially those who were burdened, daily, to satisfy rigorous expectations set and enacted by the people. Nia, by decree of her punishment, hadn’t the luxury of sleeping past dawn, no matter how many times Ari insisted she recuperate her strength in preparation for the massive-scale projects soon to be heading in her direction. Yet, even when equipped with this knowledge, Ari couldn’t quite shake the unnerving feeling of…disconnect, growing between them. That she fled, rather than departed, his bedchambers in a bid to be rid of him, either out of annoyance, or…avoidance.
Worst of all, he wasn’t quite sure he could properly address the issue with someone who seemed to take the situation, and his handling of it, as a personal affront. She had so obviously cared about Teselin’s present condition, while he, who also cared—cared plenty—needed to consider an abundance of factors, one of which being self-preservation. He abhorred his stance and wanted nothing more than to coddle the young woman, to offer her a softer, kinder approach in place of his colder, more callous decision. Few ever responded well to exile, and he loathed to bear responsibility for creating another Locque, should matters take a turn for the worse. Overlooking the situation, however, and turning a blind eye, was simply not an option for him, Lord Elthor’s pressurizing remarks notwithstanding. And if his polarizing policies lost him the respect of his nephew and Nia, of his other allies…
What then?
In preparation for the day ahead, he dressed in his best, as usual—powdering the dark bags beneath his eyes and styling his now-dried hair into sleek waves—and broke his fast alone, the sweet bread and fresh fruit tasting like ash in his mouth. He didn’t realize how much he craved a friendly, sympathetic face until Laz waltzed in, hardly minding at all for the interruption.
“Laz. Good morning to you,” he rose from his seat, leaving behind his half-eaten breakfast, “is anything the matter?”
“Did you authorize Master Kristeva to have unrestricted access to your villa?”
“No, I have never explicitly stated so. …Is he here now?”
“Indeed.” The statuesque golem crossed her muscular forearms over her chest. “I told him to wait in the parlor, but he apparently took that as an invitation to wander inside Miss Kristeva’s sickroom and abscond with her without bothering to request you to authorize the transfer. I assumed you did not wish for me to utilize force on the man for disobeying and disrespecting your home by acting no less than a thief, swooping in to snatch what he wants.”
“You have assumed correctly.” Sighing, Ari retrieved his silver-tipped cane from the corner of the room, comforted by the smoothness of the wood gliding even from beneath his gloved fingers. “It is no matter. Normally I would frown upon this breach of conduct, but he is doing me a favor, removing Miss Kristeva through gentler means than what I might have done. While the girl deserves full transparency from me regarding my intentions for her in this village, going forward, it is best saved for when she recovers in full and addressed in, say, the sanctuary, where she is surrounded by the Night Garden’s calming energies. Or better yet that she hears about it secondhand from her most trusted wolf companion. I certainly would not wish to cause a stir. Nonetheless, you needn’t concern yourself over the need for recourse, Laz. Besides, Nia is overseeing the proceedings, I am sure?” At Laz’s nod, Ari offered a weary smile. “Then you see? Everything is well in hand. I trust she has the situation well under control. And,” he twisted to face his trusted friend, “how are you faring, Laz? Do you require any modifications to your body?”
Laz, who seemed taken aback by the sudden shift in subject, uncrossed her arms and examined them, the tawny, smooth skin that shone as bronze in the sunlight, the tapered fingers of her sturdy, yet elegant hands, and the shapely lines that accentuated the grace and ferocity of her feminine form. In equal turns, she represented the aesthetic ideal of beauty and the aesthetic ideal of strength, a brazen spirit that transcended gender. “No, not at all, Ari. This body of mine, it is…more than I could have possibly wanted. Every day, I am thankful for the face I see in the mirror. Surely, it makes me want to…strip naked sometimes. It seems a damn shame not to flaunt this beauteous marvel, and always keep it concealed with garments and such.”
At her near-exuberant musings, Ari’s smile became more earnest, and laughter filled his cheeks. “Well…do refrain from the latter. At least in public venues. What you do behind closed doors is your own business, Laz,” he finished, with a playful wink.
But the golem wasn’t looking at Ari’s attempt at joviality. Not to be distracted by the misdirection, Laz was staring at his hands, which crushed against the handle of his cane with a little too much intensity, as if commanding them to lie still. The assessment…wasn’t far from the truth. “What is wrong? Your hands…but this is not a flare-up?”
Ari let loose a quiet chuckle, a hollow sound like seashells breaking underfoot. “You know me so well.”
“This is no laughing matter! Let me see them, Ari.” Obliging, he tucked his cane under his underarm, peeled off his gloves, and rested his naked hands atop Laz’s own.
At first, they looked to be recovering from an insidious sunburn, chapped and chaffed beyond a moisturizing lotion or a salve to cure. From wrist to fingertip, flaky layers, not of dead skin, but thin, mica-like sheets of granite-gray, colonized every available surface like the dry scales on a lizard. If this discovery wasn’t concerning enough, Laz caught both hands trembling, as if reacting to a chill no internal temperatures could indicate.
“What is the meaning of this?!” she hissed, her purple eyes turning a vivid, livid amethyst. “Are you overworking yourself, again? Ari, whatever you’re doing, you must stop. Nothing is worth a terrible turn in your health!“
“And what are my alternatives, Laz?” His voice, which sounded so fragile before, really did resemble the shattered seashells on the beach; only now, they were being swept up by the tide and receding, one by one. “I suspect this is an issue not to be resolved by simple rest and relaxation. It is beyond that. Too far advanced, I fear, for even Nia or Isidor to revert. It has escaped their notice because I always carry trace elements of the stone in my system, and this manifestation is hardly detectable. Otherwise, they would have noticed days ago, when these symptoms first developed. I shave them off, Laz. Every morning; at every opportunity I am afforded, I exfoliate these dreaded layers. But within hours…they return, with stubborn persistence. Not only that,” he reconnected the tip of his cane to the floor and leaned against it like an old man seeking the support of a sturdy oak, “my muscles, they stiffen. Walking has grown to be quite the chore, and sculpting…more difficult, still. Yet…I will see to the end of these festivities, Laz. To my promises. Nia wishes to attend to young Teselin and I wholeheartedly support her endeavors. Isidor and Lord Rigas will be kept busy as well, no doubt. This can wait. I can wait. That poor girl requires far more assistance than I do at this juncture. And as I’ve said before…you know me all too well, Laz.” As he slid on his silken gloves, careful not to disrupt the ravaged skin, Ari quieted the trembling of his hands by squeezing the cane close to his chest. “I will prevail, as I have done plenty of times before. To the height of my limitations—that is where I will reach. For I am far from gone. Now if you will excuse me,” he nodded his retreat as he headed for the door, “I will need to make a brief stopover at the palace. Please look after my affairs in my absence. And rest assured; we shall readdress this matter with the attention it fully deserves,” he took a solemn bow at the waist prior to his departure. “You have my word.”
Not long after Isidor and Hadwin took their leave with a sleeping Teselin in tow did Ari also set his sights on the palace, but for completely different reasons. Having informed Chara of his imminent arrival, she was the one to greet him at the entrance and escort him to her and Lilica’s chambers, in the exact place she hosted Nia just the other day. With the two of them alone, and Ari properly offered a beverage (to which he accepted, but only water), the Canaveris Lord, counter to his tendency to deviate and equivocate with pleasant, non-combative words, dove straight to the point.
“Chara…for long do you intend on antagonizing Nia?”
“Ah, so this is what your sudden arrival is all about,” Chara, lounging on her settee, blew out a noisy raspberry of a sigh. “I should have known.”
“You do realize,” Ari placed the empty glass on the table and folded his hands atop his lap, “your behavior towards her only perpetuates the acrimony that we as a joint society of Galeynians and D’Marians have sworn to eradicate? How should this attitude benefit a woman who is granted little to no opportunities for serving her sentence ably if you plan to scapegoat her at every conceivable avenue and discourage her from participation under pain of your unerring hostility? Why do you insist on fostering an environment of punishment rather than one of productivity and penitence? You cannot tell me that cruelty and spite embody the majority of your soul when your grand gesture in a few days hence heralds so much love and devotion. Tell me I am not so foolhardy as to believe in the nobility of your character, the personage who aligns with the wishes for peace and prosperity alongside your Queen lover. Surely, you must advocate for the same.”
“I do.” Perhaps because she anticipated Ari’s argument, none of what he said seemed to rattle or rankle her in any particular way. “Oh, believe me, I tried to reason with Ardane, but she is rather hysterical at the best of times, going on tirades and insulting the Crown because our treatment of the necromancer was not suitable enough for her vendetta, forgetting the fact that our leniency ultimately spared her from the gallows. And why should I inform her of sensitive information regarding our punitive system, when she has little earned the right? I do not kowtow to the demands of a prisoner, but you can be assured that I did my level best to accommodate her outrageous, aggravating, slovenly demeanor, despite her lowly status.”
Ari wrinkled his brow, skeptical. “But did you, Chara? Honestly? To me, you sounded rather oppositional from the outset. I am aware of your brand, as well as what you consider passes as ‘civil.’ I have been on the receiving end of it for many moons—but I am not here to dispute your graceless haranguing. It certainly has a place within the political machine, and Her Majesty most certainly requires someone to occupy the audacious role of icy, unpopular arbiter presiding at Her right side. I only ask for a favor, and it is one I predict might also please Her Majesty, in her ongoing prospects for peace. And before you shoot sparks at me, sputter, and naysay, need I remind you,” his words took on a flared edge, “our arrangement still stands. Are you not also acting as a penitent for the Canaverises, upon our mutual agreement? Perhaps…you and Nia have more in common than you care to admit.”
Ari did not return to the D’Marian village alone. Stepping out of the carriage and crossing the threshold into his home, Chara Rigas accompanied the Master of the Villa, visibly nervous and holding her head a little less high. As he guided her into the parlor and poured her a tall glass of dark wine, upon her specific request, Ari temporarily excused himself to fetch Nia, who was still using his office as a makeshift Alchemist’s workshop. “I hope you will forgive my interruption, Nia, but there is a guest here to see you in the parlor. I am certain this will not take too much of your time.”
She obliged his request, albeit with an understandable dose of confusion. Who would want to see her? She most likely queried to herself. And why did he withhold the name of her guest? He could see her suspicion mount with every step that drew them closer to the parlor, but by then, it was too late for her to demur and flee. Casting her a swift, apologetic glance, Ari opened the parlor doors and escorted her to where Chara waited, sitting stunned in her seat like a cat whose tail had puffed up to twice its size.
“Lady Chara wishes for your audience, Nia,” he gestured her to the nearest seat across from her visitor. “I rather think you would like to hear what she has to say.” Ari nodded over to Chara, who guzzled a few liberal gulps of wine before proceeding.
“I fear we had a misunderstanding the other day.” Ari’s pointed look from across the room elicited a frustrated sigh from her painted lips. “Me. I am at fault. And yes, I will not elaborate, because I don’t care to. Only this. A modus of understanding. I, too, have been a prisoner, Nia. A prisoner of Mollengard, tortured and beaten, bled of my magic in the most brutal, violating way, and slated for execution. Obviously, I was spared this tragic fate, as was Teselin, but for months, I viewed my most fortunate intercession as a curse of the highest order. Even now, I am struggling to unlearn the belief that I am an utterly worthless, lowly creature, undeserving of love, companionship, or kindness. So I continuously reject and undermine peoples’ attempts to charm me. I suppose I have always been like that. Impossible to please. Do not take my harshness personally; I seem to hate everyone. To find fault with everyone. That is what hateful people do, after all. Alas,” she clinked her fingernails against the crystalline structure of her goblet, “if I am to help usher in a new era of love and fellowship, I should set a good precedent and begin to act accordingly…starting with you.”
Her gaze never left the purview of her goblet, and her shoulders seemed shrunken, consumed by the cushions of the settee. “I may never hope to earn forgiveness, but I do have a request for you. A humble one. I…am to propose marriage to Queen Lilica on the eve of the Solstice ball, after Alster and Elespeth are to be rewed.” Her faltering statement rattled against her teeth, almost refusing to escape from their ivory cage. Her mouth clenched. “I realize I am a vastly unpopular figurehead, even among Galeynians. I had hoped to curry Ari’s favor to collaborate on a truly impressive display of my intentions, tantalizing enough to win the audience’s approval. Securing Ari’s alliance in this endeavor would at least have granted me some D’Marian support, but today, he has come to inform me he is unable to contribute due to suffering horrendous ‘hand cramps,’” she rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Before I look elsewhere for an artist collaborator, would you perhaps be interested in…” she waved a hand vaguely in the air, “in…dazzling with your alchemical might? This must go perfectly, mind, and smoothly. Timely. I have no actual ideas on how to introduce the ring, or the proposal. This is not…I am not,” her face flushed the color of the wine in her goblet, “I do not excel in such humiliating circumstances. However, should you help me, and all goes well, I shall not hesitate to sing your praises, Arda…Nia. Feel free to use this platform as an opportunity to soften the hearts of your detractors. And, should you also see fit,” she bobbed along in her seat like a boat detached from its moorings, drifting farther and farther from shore. She swallowed, remembered to breathe, straightened her back, and dislodged her shoulders from the settee backrest’s plush padding, “I would welcome your assistance for Alster and Elespeth’s wedding. Someone…will need to distract her for the duration of the day. And to keep her away from Alster until their appointed time.”
Despite her deep concern for Teselin and her condition, on top of how the young summoner might recover (if she ever fully did…), Nia knew she had no right to follow Hadwin and Isidor back to central Galeyn, where they planned to take Tes to the Night Garden to ensure she properly stabilized. Not only did she have no right, but also no leave, and after her abrupt departure to the palace just the other day to speak with Chara had left her Forbanne guard visibly disgruntled (to the point where she feared he might say something to Commander Sorde and compromise what little freedom she did have), the Master Alchemist knew it was unwise to push her luck even further.
So after their departure early that morning, instead of returning to her shared bedchambers with Ari, she headed for his study, where her alchemical materials were still partially set up, as she had left them that way in case an emergency involving Teselin had transpired during the night. She’d probably be reprimanded later on for skipping breakfast, but Elespeth was preoccupied with other affairs, so barring Ari himself, no one was currently around to get on her case about skirting around Isidor’s strict requirements for her health. Frankly, even in spite of going lax on eating and exercise since Solstice festivities had begun, Nia Ardane still had never been quite this healthy in her entire life. No fasting in preparation for alchemy work for almost a month now, more muscle mass, and food that actually nourished her body on top of sating her appetite had done wonders for her energy levels, and she’d noticed that the lighter alchemy she had been practicing had yielded fewer trial and errors. If things suddenly took a turn for the worst, and she ended up having to act on Ari’s curse as early as even tomorrow, she was confident that she could deliver optimal results.
With that in mind, she didn’t think twice about concocting a tonic for Teselin, similar to that which Isidor provided Ari, to help calm her body when she anticipated stress. If her destructive reactions were contingent on sharp fluctuations in her mood, then perhaps something as simple as this would have the potential to mitigate future catastrophes. It was hard to say, when she was dealing with something she wholly did not understand--that no one, including Teselin herself, understood--but the more she opened her eyes to reality… the more she was coming to realize how few true allies the young summoner actually had. How many people were really willing to go to bat for her and help her pave a way for normal life. It was easy to say that you supported someone, until it came down to putting your money where your mouth was, and you were forced to consider the implications of such a promise. She had Hadwin… but aside from the faoladh, who was really, truly willing to put their life on the line for a girl who had never wanted to hurt anyone?
If she was being honest with herself… she wasn’t even sure where she stood, or what she would do if Teselin’s chaos threatened the life of the people she loved--namely, Ari. She had made a promise for a future with the Canaveris lord; before even that, she had made a promise to save him from a life afflicted by his debilitating curse. And she couldn’t stray from that promise… not even for poor Teselin. But that did not mean she couldn’t try to help. She felt for the girl, a fellow outcast, and wanted nothing more than to see her succeed, but she knew deep down that she couldn’t blame Ari for his decision to keep Teselin far from his family and community. Yet a part of her did hope that Nico, loyal as he was to his uncle, would find the necessary agency to decide on his own whether he felt pursuing friendship with the young summoner was worth the risk--and the reprimand from his family, should they find out.
Working with a single strand of Teselin’s hair, which had stuck to her clothes upon carrying her into the Canaveris villa just the other day, Nia stooped over a handful of vials held upright by an apparatus Isidor had personally designed when Ari quietly opened the door and politely excused his interruption. “Ari--everything alright?” It was Nia’s automatic response to abruptly turn and hold her breath, thinking the worst. Had something happened to Teselin? Worse--had the stress of this whole ordeal worn Ari down to such an extent that he was suffering another flare-up. “Do you need me to take care of something? This can wait,” she gestured to the half-finished stress tonic she was crafting for Teselin. The young summoner had surely made it to the Night Garden by now; she’d be stable, at the very least. “Let me handle your flare-up. Isidor is likely too busy fussing over his sister, and if I’m being honest, I’d prefer that you come to me instead.”
Given his decidedly stiff posture, Nia was surprised to hear that he was, in fact, not here to request her help for a flare-up. Rather, she had a visitor. One that she was most certainly not expecting. “...I wish I could assume you were joking.” The Master Alchemist’s face fell with suspicion and concern. “But I know you too well to think you’d pull a trick like that on me. Do you know what she wants? ‘Cause after yesterday, I don’t think I have anything else to say to her that would be appropriate to utter in this villa.”
But Ari insisted that whatever the haughty Rigas woman had come to speak about was something that she would want to hear, and she did trust him not to be leading her into a triggering situation. So she set aside her materials, wiped her bandaged hands on her skirts (the salve that Nico had given her would probably have them cleared up as early as the next day, for all its potency), and followed him into the parlor, where sure enough, Chara Rigas sat waiting for her.
Slowly, and not without caution, Nia took a seat the furthest away from Chara, and remained silent as the celestial mage deigned to explain herself, and… apologize for her conduct the other day. The Ardane alchemist was inclined to believe the whole thing to be insincere, until Chara actually made an effort to relate to her, of all things. Being a prisoner; feelings of worthlessness. All things that, yes, Nia could relate to all too well. Perhaps Chara had known this all along, and only now--through some coercion on behalf of Ari--was coming to admit it, not only to Nia, but to herself.
“I already know that, Chara. What you went through at Mollengard. That you were left without your magic, and you needed Alster and the Night Garden to reinvoke it. And that it’s not the same that it used to be.” Of course, the more she revealed that she was already privy to those details, the more uncomfortable Chara became. So Nia decided to back off, and sighed quietly. “I already know, and I could already relate. Same way that I spent months trying to make it clear to Elespeth, who I understand can also relate. She was a prisoner in her own home, and now exists beyond them, because the only way they let her go was through believing she was dead. Even when you still saw me as an enemy, I’ve been trying my damndest to make it obvious to you--to everyone--that we’ve got more in common than we differ. Isn’t that what this whole celebration is about, anyway? Just a larger scale of what I was trying to achieve from the beginning. Unlike the way you decided to view me, and I’m sure many other people, I’ve never seen you as other. To me, you’ve always been another. Another person who’s been struggling and just trying to get by the best way that they can. But it’s easier, isn’t it?” Nia uncrossed her legs and say forward on the settee, folding her arms across her chest. “To think of people like me as other. Because I’m not the kind of person to whom anyone would want to relate. As soon as you do, it means you have to deal with it. And the fact that you’re choosing to deal with it…” Her features softened and relaxed, along with her posture. “Well, that takes bravery that I didn’t give you credit for. So props to you for proving me wrong--even if it did take a little of that wine to help.”
Despite that Nia was already well in the know about Chara’s intention to propose to Lilica, she did not let on, as she wasn’t entirely sure how the Rigas woman would feel about Ari having divulged such sensitive information to the likes of her. But she couldn’t help but grin at the announcement that the Rigas woman intended to propose following the ceremony for Alster and Elespeth. “Ah-ha. So was it your plan all along to upstage the already married couple at their own ceremony, huh?” The Master Alchemist chuckled and shook her head at the red that crept into Chara’s cheeks. “I’m teasing. Although it does strike me as a little odd that you’d rather tag such a politically momentous event onto yet another politically momentous event, it probably would be good for you and for Her Majesty to have this take place publicly. And there’s no telling when you’re going to get such a vast number of guests into one room again anytime soon. So… here’s what I’ll say.”
The Ardane woman leaned forward and linked her hands together. “If you want me to keep Elespeth occupied up until the last minute, then I can assure you I know a thing or two about pulling off enough bullshit excuses to keep her away until the time is right. As for your occasion…” She twitched her mouth to the side thoughtfully and studied the Rigas mage’s nervous face. “I’m not gonna say no. But you do need to do some thinking and give me an idea of what you want. Not like I’ve ever proposed to anyone, before. Hells, up until the masquerade, I’d never even attended a formal event! Ari is by far a better candidate than me. And I’m not an artist--I’m an alchemist. Big difference, although that’s not to say I don’t have a few ideas up my sleeve, or that I can’t put on a dazzling display. So--let’s collaborate, then.” Straightening her posture, she rolled her shoulders back and smiled. Not sardonically, but with a genuine air of interest. “I’ve got to finish up a little project I started this morning, but we can touch base later today. Sound good?”
Chara didn’t argue. In fact, she seemed relieved that Nia had agreed to anything at all, and no longer seemed quite so obliged to down the wine in her hand to take an edge off. With the promise to be in touch, the Rigas mage departed, leaving Ari and Nia alone in the parlor. “Don’t even try to convince me you didn’t have something to do with this.” She cast the Canaveris lord a suspicious side-eye. “It’s because I turned down your request last night, isn’t it? And you knew I wouldn’t partake unless Chara herself put aside her pride to ask me. Well… it worked. And Chara’s not wrong. The more the people of Galeyn see me associated with positive things, the less likely they are to continue to condemn me. Guess I’ve really got to think about how to not fuck this up, huh?”
Something about one of Chara’s comments bothered her, though, as it corroborated the very concern she had had when the earth mage had come to retrieve her for this meeting. The haughty blonde woman had mentioned something about Ari deferring to hand cramps, and his gait in general had seemed relatively stiff today… “What you told Chara… was it an excuse to get her to ask for my help? Let me see your hands.” Her question rapidly evolved into a firm request on the suspicion that Ari would otherwise try to pass off his discomfort as nothing to worry about. Nia held her ground until he removed his gloves, revealing a thin, grey layer of what appeared to be granite covering his hands. Not a full flare-up, but something almost worst: a slow, active transition, that not even her Master alchemy would be able to keep up with. Minute enough that her touch did not pick up on it, but no less dangerous. And a bad omen.
“...when is the Solstice ball? And does it herald the end of kingdom wide celebrations?” She asked, taking his hands gently in her own. “When this is all done, and the kingdom is happy, and everyone returns to their daily lives… then we will not wait anymore. I’m healthy and strong as I’ve ever been, but time… it isn’t doing you any favours.” Nia looked up from Ari’s hands to meet his eyes. “I’ve been running everything by Isidor, and I think we’ve got it figured out. We’ve managed to work out enough of the risks that I’m confident I’ll be able to transmute that curse into something that can more tangibly be cured, with Alster’s help. Ari, promise me… that we’ll do this after the Solstice ball, and no later. If your condition deteriorates any further…”
She trailed off. Words weren’t necessary when there was already a mutual understanding that they were running out of time.
Teselin seemed to bounce back relatively quickly the day that Isidor and Hadwin had taken her from the Canaveris villa to the Night Garden. Sure enough, now that the manacle had been removed, paired with the healing and rejuvenating properties of the Night Garden itself, the young summoner’s fever had vanished and her strength had largely returned. In fact, in a mere twenty-four hours, it was almost impossible to tell she’d ever been in a life-threatening situation… except for the fact that her afflicted arm had yet to recover. Fortunately, Teselin felt no pain, but her strength and both gross and fine motor skills in her dominant arm had yet to return to any extent, despite both medical and magical intervention. She had feeling in her hand, and could twitch her fingers, but could not lift her arm, which had remained in a sling since she’d awoken the day before. No one could give her any sort of informed prognosis, and for the most part, time would tell how well she recovered the use of her right arm. But that wasn’t the trouble that weighed on the young summoner’s mind… far from it, in fact.
The next day, the Gardeners could see no reason not to let her leave the Sanctuary and return to her room in the palace, so that was where Teselin remained once she could convince them her health was no longer at risk. On more than one occasion, Isidor had stopped by her room to pay a visit, but he never remained for long. Guilt was so prominent in his dark, sleepless eyes, and he kept asking over and over if there was anything he could do for her, but when she asked if he could modify something less lethal to repel magic that might keep her chaos under control… Well, he never quite gave her a straight answer, neither confirming nor denying that he would or wouldn’t cater to her request. He never did stay for long, although she suspected it had something to do with the air of discomfort that stirred whenever Hadwin and Isidor were in the same room (and considering Hadwin spent more time with her than alone, Isidor seldom found a moment to speak with her in private).
Aside from Alster, who had paid a visit twice to reassess her arm (all to no avail), everyone continued to keep their distance from the dangerous girl whose chaos could seemingly strike at any moment. Even the resonance stone that she hadn’t put down since receiving it had yet to vibrate with the voice of whomever had gifted it to her. She wondered if they were expecting her to speak into it first…
With her right arm propped awkwardly in the sling around her neck, Teselin sat in the broad windowsill across from Hadwin, who looked comfortable, curled up in his wolf form on her bed. He’d been spending more time as a wolf than a man, lately; she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her. “Look; I think I might be starting to get the hang of it. These letters are at least legible.” The Kristeva girl held up the piece of parchment, where she had been practicing for hours printing every letter of the alphabet with her non-dominant hand. Understandably, it looked akin to something a very young child would write, but for only two days trying to compensate for the lack of mobility in her right arm, it was at least legible.
“...you can’t seriously be content, though. Sitting there, watching me learn how to write all over again…” She lowered the paper and the quill she’d been writing with. “The Solstice ball… isn’t that in just a few days? You should go, Hadwin. If you’re afraid you’ll need someone to look out for you, then go with Sigrid and Bronwyn. They’ll have your back. And anyway--I need someone close to me to go. So that they can relay it all to me later. I heard they’re deferring the vote for the parade floats to that evening, as well. I… I don’t want to hold you back.” The young summoner rubbed her injured arm and turned her face to the window again, watching the passerbyes below. “Don’t put your life on hold because of me. I’m not going anywhere; I’ll be okay.” Shifting her weight, she felt the pressure of the resonance stone in her pocket. Such a simple gimmick, and it wasn’t as though she had never been in possession of one before, but somehow, this time was different. Somehow… having this one closeby, with the anticipation that at some point, someone might reach out, she felt a connection to the world beyond her room. A link to a hope that someone out there, someone other than Hadwin and Isidor, still thought she was worthy, regardless of how dangerous her magic was.
Chara hated being in this position, reduced to some groveling supplicant at the feet of her captors, but if she hadn’t, deep down, wanted such humiliation, she never would had agreed to Ari’s numerous proposals as vindication for her sins against the Canaveris name. On one hand, she could not wait to be free of his yoke, having already a taste of the mortification to which he subjugated her—and fearing more threats that required her decency on the horizon—and on the other hand…was it enough? Decades of torture and psychological scarring, and at most, Ari’s only demand for recompense was that she be kind to Nia? However, it soon became obvious that his sole demand was, indeed, akin to a different type of torture. He knew his quarry well, and understood her weaknesses even better. Admit fault. Find common ground. Ask for help. Crush your pride, and reveal its broken pieces. Let her see you as human, not a monster. Maybe then, forgiveness might be within your grasp, and love, easier to keep, accept, and cherish.
Ari had always been a sap of the highest degree, but dammit all, he wasn’t wrong! How dare she intend on wedding Lilica when she refused to diminish her villainous persona, the twists of cruelty, the refusal to change, and her mistrust bordering on misanthropy? Why defend her misery and inflict its wrath upon the people whose approval she desired? For, if the Galeynians didn’t want her, and the D’Marians didn’t want her, where, then, did she belong? It was time…to finally emerge from her Mollengardian prison cell of the mind and view her surroundings not as yet another stage of survival and strife, but as a stage of new beginnings. Locque was gone, and Nia showed no intentions of acting as her proxy in the woman’s absence. She could move forward. She was allowed to venture into the sunlight once more.
It shocked her to discover that Nia was on the same page.
“Oh believe me,” she barked a laugh, “I prefer to view others as beyond redemption, and you are no exception. I would much like to go on hating the world, because hate is easier to manufacture. It requires fewer resources, cuts to the quick, and removes from the equation that pesky unknowability factor that tends to bloom to the surface whenever you grant that person the time of day, or a bit of grace. They take your grace, then, and you learn to trust…until they inevitably betray you, and you are left with nothing but stinging rejection and outrage. I despise that most of all; to be made the fool. But seeing as I am surrounded by fools, perhaps I am a fool by association, and so, who does it really serve, to go on hating? So,” she played with the stem of her empty goblet, sighing, “I shall place my bid with the fools, for the time being. Funnily enough, they tend to end up as the most reliable of the lot, frustrating as they are.” She dared not voice the implication aloud, but it was there, all the same. Perhaps you may join that lot, yet.
Just as she began to feel somewhat comfortable in Nia’s company, the dratted woman belched out a careless comment that made her face feel like it had been plunged into a den of fire ants. “I am not upstaging them!” she shot back, less in fury and more in staunch defense over how her actions were being perceived. “I would take no such maneuvers until well after the cake is distributed. And, to clarify, Alster and Elespeth’s ceremony was always intended to be open to the public. As I’ve made mention before, Alster would have it no other way. The more guests, the better, strangers or not. Their ceremony will usher in the Solstice ball proper, as the timing coincides with the start of the event and will take place in the same room. Yes, distinguished friends and guests shall be given priority viewing and proximity to our repurposed newlyweds, but the rest of the venue is wide open to all revelers. As for my…occasion, as you put it,” she brought forward a small, unassuming bag and fished out a box, inside of which lay a beautiful tourmaline ring beset with diamonds, “this is what I have. It is best I not keep it in our rooms any longer, in case she should stumble upon it, so…” Before she could think the better of it, she snapped the box shut and thrust it into Nia’s face for her to receive. “Let this not be a mistake. Please bear this ring in my stead. My thought is to present Lilica with something either nondescript or confounding, only to have it transform before her eyes into a different, pleasing form, with this ring sitting at its center. I’ve seen your work with the fireflies; I know it’s possible. I give you license to be creative. Colorful. Attention-grabbing. On my end, the only idea that comes to mind is for the transfiguration to end up as a massive flower, a bougainvillea, to be precise, opening its petals to reveal the ring, but that is likely too pedestrian, overdone, not special enough…and rather reminiscent of your float.”
She didn’t miss the slight look of affront in Ari’s eyes from her insinuation that the Canaveris float was synonymous with ‘pedestrian,’ and Chara secretly relished in the effects of her light jibe. But only for a second, until she caught herself and noticed the same damaging patterns threatening to blossom between her and Ari. She could not afford it, not even the faintest of snide remarks made at his expense. There could be no banter, no shallow mockeries or teasing provocations meant to vex or rattle…nothing that people might take out of context. While it was Chara’s own brand of humor—acerbic and a touch mean-spirited—it wouldn’t pay at all to be so careless anymore, not when everything she said and did weighed so heavily on her inky and pockmarked reputation.
“Well,” she rose from her settee, brushing invisible detritus off her skirts, “I shall give you the day to consider. Use the ring as inspiration. I’m sure Ari will assist in drafting a rather handsome vision for the occasion, even if he cannot ‘bring it to life’, as I had initially hoped. Oh, and not to worry, Ari,” she stayed his movements with outstretched fingers, “I am perfectly capable of seeing myself out. Good day.”
Ari, who mainly kept to the walls during their conversation, stepped forward, accepting Nia’s side-eye with a culpable smile in turn. “Well I must say, she performed better than I ever could have imagined. Perhaps ‘perform’ is a poor choice of words; I did not instruct her beforehand, nor hand her a script to follow. I merely…pushed her in the right direction, and she did the rest on her own. It seemed she well and truly wished to make amends, but knowing Chara as I do, she often requires a dose of encouragement to reveal her extant capacity for benevolence. I hope you will forgive me for placing you in a potentially unnavigable situation. I suppose I simply did not wish to accept the conclusion you drew last night, regarding your ineligibility for the kingdom’s approval. If we are to have a future together, Nia, do you not think it imperative to create quality opportunities where you are best able to repair your sagging image through endeavors of particular significance, among the most influential groups of people? Surely,” he leaned excitedly on his cane, “after the Solstice event, the citizenry will have a much higher opinion of you, hearing how you not only conceived of Lord and Lady Rigas’s re-marriage, but that you had a hand in arranging a future marriage, as well. Then, after you reverse the effects of my curse for good…”
He trailed off, as did the musings of his cautious optimism, when Nia’s gaze flickered to his hands, perched innocuously atop his cane. What he had intended only as an offhanded excuse to free him from a prior commitment had tipped her off to his present condition that much? “Oh, you needn’t worry. I used hyperbolic speech and overblown descriptors to describe the status of my hands in an effort to deter Chara from insisting upon my aid. Those ‘horrendous hand cramps’ of which she spoke amount to little more than a sore thumb and a few tired fingers. Nothing that a few restful days will not resolve, rest assured.”
He should have known his dissuasive language would not sway Nia. Unconvinced of his claims, she pressed, and pressed, and pressed, until he bobbed his head in defeat and removed his gloves, displaying the grisly truth for her to see.
“It is really not as gruesome as it appears,” he offered, deliberately concealing the tremors that ran through his fingers; he needn’t they concern her in addition to the flaky, reptilian carapace his hands were sporting. “They appeared about a week ago and I was still able to sculpt with little difficulty. In fact—why not I contribute a share of my artistry, after all? Nothing too outrageous on my part, but Chara seemed most interested in the prospect of my bringing something to life. Notably, a golem, perhaps? I can either sculpt one or lend one to you from my menagerie and, as we did with the fireflies, transfigure that creature into something most grand, that will meet the approval and delight of our Majesty, her advisor, and their guests. Does that sound like a reasonable course of action?” Unfortunately, her thoughts were elsewhere, and no manner of waxing positive or belittling his grim prognosis overturned the reality of their newest discovery. His time was finite, his life expectancy eroding by the day.
Dropping the pretense, Ari nodded his understanding, curling the fingers of both hands around Nia’s wrists. A mistake, for how feebly they gripped the skin, and how they failed to follow its contours, too stiff to properly bend and crook. He tried not to show any malaise, but even he couldn’t hide the growing notes of alarm that no doubt twisted in his eyes. “The Solstice festivities will end three days hence, after the Rigas ceremony and the ball reach their terminus. All will be well, Nia. I am able-bodied, still, and stable on my feet. Nothing so onerous will befall me in the interim. I believe in my strength. All will be well,” he reiterated, in a droning, soothing whisper. A mantra. At that point, he didn’t know who he was convincing; Nia, or himself.
It was easier, being a wolf. For all the reasons Hadwin generally disliked wearing it during the day. He didn’t talk and shoot the breeze, or need to act busy, to pretend he had his shit together for long stretches at a time. He didn’t have to carry a conversation, or worry his face gave himself away, or his posture; slanted shoulders or bleeding fingers, picked at and chewed. Didn’t need to catalogue the state of his deflated arms, yet to return to their full strength, or stare obsessively over at Teselin’s mangled arm, which fared worse than his atrophied, shivering muscles. He could still carry things, and people, goddammit, if others would just move out of his way and let him take charge. The fact that Isidor, Isidor Kristeva, of all people, showed him up by appearing out of the blue and swooping in like he’d been the loving, gallant big brother to Teselin all along sickened him. If your fucking guilty conscience dares to unseat me from a position I’ve had way longer than you realized you even had a sister…
That was another reason he stayed as a wolf. It kept his disposition in check, his cloying anger at bay, stayed his thirst for violence, and stabilized the wild fluctuations of his fraying mind, which flinched whenever Rowen’s voice filled his ears with reminders of his incompetency. What, you think she’s better off with you than with her actual brother? You’ll put her in the ground, Hadwin. You’re not any good at this shit, and you know it. You know it!
She’s getting sick of you, you know, that infuriating voice continued, dripping like poison-coated honey. Won’t be long before she can’t stand the sight of you. Look how eager she is in wanting you gone!
Come off it! He bit back at the unrelenting noise in his ears. I’m not that far gone. Doesn’t take a mind reader to see that she’s afraid I’m throwing my life away. Hells, she said it herself!
And can you really trust your senses, Hadwin? The voice oozed confidence and a promise to be fulfilled. Come now, have they ever been reliable? Especially now? What have you lost after you tore my heart out and scattered its pieces around that blood-soaked glade? More than you care to admit, that’s for sure!
Hadwin jumped down from the bed and shook his ruff of fur like he was extricating fleas. A jaunt around the palace might be just the thing to banish Rowen’s ghost from his head!
A chorus of cracking bones unsetting and resetting, and he was back in human form. He hardly waited until his spine realigned before rummaging for his clothes on all fours, throwing on whatever he found tossed aside on the floor.
“Y’know kid, you’re right.” Fully clothed, he drew himself upright, every flicker of a movement sending waves of pops and cracks from his creaking, reconstituted joints. “Good to get fresh air from time to time; that way, I’m not polluting your bedside with my rank wolf breath. Seriously, you could’ve given me the toss sooner if you wanted some alone time with your, ahem, friend.” He eyed the pocket where she kept her resonance stone, a sly grin spreading across his face. Pushing back his mane of hair from his forehead with one hand, his other hand gestured at her parchment of slanted, but not illegible, letters. “Looking good. Maybe I’ll get you to pipe in the letters for Al and El’s celebration cake. Speaking of, I gotta get started on that masterpiece, and on the double, so might as well head on over to the kitchens. Should check on Bron, too, while I’m out. Word has it she won a whole-ass boar? Through petty trickery?” The laugh that gurgled from his throat showed genuine, unfabricated amusement. “Now I have to know that story. Well,” he grabbed a different resonance stone from the table and held it up for Teselin to see,” if you need anything, just give me a buzz. Al’s also coming around in a bit to check on you, so you got him to look forward to if shit gets too dull in the absence of my illuminating company.” Placing his hand on the door latch, he hesitated a bit, vacillating between staying and going. Looking over his shoulder at Teselin one last time, he grinned, said his farewells with promises to return soon, and bolted out the door before he could change his mind.
Instead of heading to the kitchens first, however, he went straight to Isidor’s quarters.
The door swung open at his insistent knock, and the pale-moon face of the sleepless Master Alchemist bunched into craters of alarm, in anticipation for an ugly conflict between the two. But Hadwin stuck his hands into his pockets and leaned on one leg, as casually as he could manage.
“I oughta punch your lights in, but I won’t. Not like that’d go well…for either of us,” he jutted his chin to his exposed arms, still lacking in their lithe, athletic musculature. “You’re guilty about how it all went down. I get it; I’m guilty, too. That’s not what she needs, though. Not when her entire life’s been nothing but guilt, guilt, guilt, and more guilt. Tes needs a life not dominated by fear. See me as a glowing example. If fear is all you’ve got, you’re gonna end up a massive fuck-up, in one way or another. So give her what she wants. Fix up this manacle,” he pulled one hand from his pocket, the half-melted, broken thing dangling from his fingers like a silvery snake. “She’s been deprived of hope for long enough. Now she’s got the opportunity to snatch a piece of it for herself. At risk to her life, yeah, I fucking know. But now that she’s experienced the freedom of not being a slave to her emotionally-triggering magic, do you really believe she’s gonna let it go so easily? It’s not a solution. Pah, far from it. But for now, it’s something to keep her occupied. To keep her happy. And she needs something, and quick, before everyone writes her off as too dangerous to associate with, and starts taking decisive actions against her. Hells, it’s already happened. Your buddy Ari’s given her the boot and won’t let her back to the D’Marian village. …And me, for that matter, I’m dead certain. At least, I can’t set foot in his house anymore. Though he never quite made himself clear on that,” he chuckled, completely undeterred by his nebulous ban, and all its uncharted parameters.
“You know,” he spun the manacle around his fingers like a child’s toy, and not a potentially fatal artifact in certain hands, “ever think we could…craft her a sort of replica that only mimics the effects of Mollengard’s null stones, but doesn’t actually do any harm to her? Like a placebo, or something? Doesn’t matter if it works, so long as she believes it does. And belief…sometimes that’s enough to work miracles, wouldn’t you say?”
Shortly after Hadwin took his leave, the resonance stone in Teselin’s pocket buzzed.
“Miss Teselin?” A familiar, masculine voice rang out of the stone’s smooth, unrippled surface. “It’s Nico. I apologize for my delay; Laz has been around my door lately and I wanted to allay her suspicions before I called on you. How are you faring today? And your arm? Is it healing nicely?” An underpinning of tenseness threatened to disrupt his pleasant speech. “Ah, how did you find the painting? I do apologize for the subject matter. I understand it may come across as upsetting. That is why I instructed you destroy it. If nothing else, it would bring about some catharsis, to destroy the representation of destruction. That is how, I suppose, one might banish unwelcome thoughts. Destroying destruction…does it not, in a sense, mean that even the most chaotic forces in the world bring about the light of creation? …If this is not a polite topic of conversation, please feel free to stop me. I am afraid sometimes I say far too much without first filtering out the extraneous, unnecessary details.”
Nia listened, and she nodded at Chara’s monologue, taking care not to interrupt while knowing how difficult this must be for the Rigas woman. To actually stoop as low as to relate to someone, instead of raising herself up on a pedestal and looking down upon them. She had no idea what Ari had said or done (or even threatened) to render her so suddenly vulnerable--and willing to be vulnerable, in front of someone she didn’t even like. “Pfft. As if I can’t relate to that. I know--believe me, I know how danger trust can be, Chara Rigas. And in the past, it’s gotten me a lot more than just hurt feelings and disappointment. It really fucked up my ability to commit to anyone. But you… I mean,” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Our situations were different. I get that. You adhered to a completely different coping mechanism. And as much as I want to, I can’t blame you for it. I know better than to do that.”
While it hadn’t been her intention, her cheeky comment about upstanding Alster and Elespeth Rigas’s re-wedding must have hit a nerve in the already raw celestial mage, and the Master Alchemist had to lift her hands in deference. “Relax--I’m joking, Rigas. I do that a lot with people. If you bothered to get to know me, you’d understand that.” She grinned, but in an easy way, soft around the edges so as not to incite any further frustration in Chara, who already seemed shaken up. “And--if you get to know me--you’ll learn that I only poke fun at people I happen to like. So, relax. No one, Elespeth and Alster included, are actually going to think you’re upstaging them.” If anything, between the surprise re-wedding, followed by a flashy proposal, spectators would be too stricken with sensory overload from the abundance of events taking place all at once to think that anyone was trying to overshadow anyone else.
“All that said… I’m happy to help you out with your own secret agenda. Honestly, I was wondering when you and Her Majesty were ever gonna become ‘official’. Although,” Nia’s grin diminished around the corners of her mouth, along with her confidence. “While I’m more than happy to be of assistance, I’m not sure what exactly I can…”
The Ardane woman’s words trailed off as soon as Chara reached into a pocket and presented a small box, one which any fool who knew what was going on could guess as to what it contained. Nia certainly knew, and hesitated to take the box in her hands, as if she were irrationally afraid that her rune-etched hands would turn it and its contents into dust. It was a scary thing, suddenly being in possession of something so meaningful that belonged to (and was meant for) someone else. Certainly, she could work her alchemy and make something beautiful out of something already stunning, but if she screwed up, then there would be way more on the line than her budding camaraderie (or was it just a truce?) with Chara Rigas. She had to resist the urge to push it back into Chara’s hands, and instead held her breath, listening to the Rigas woman’s instructions on what she expected and desired--the details of which were, she felt, purposely vague.
“Huh. So those fireflies made an impression on you?” Her mouth twitched into another half-grin, but this one was decidedly more nervous than the last. “I did wonder if anyone really gave a damn about that gimmick. But, I’ll be honest, it took a hell of a lot of trial and error. Days and days of fucking up all of the mica that Ari carefully rendered into sheets for me to work with. I don’t really wanna fuck with this,” she indicated the box in her hand, “at least not with the ring inside of it. But… I can make a box transform. Not that I’ve witnessed a lot of proposals, but I’ve never seen someone’s ring box turn into a beautiful flower that blooms to reveal the ring inside of it. If I get to work now…” The Master Alchemist bit her lip, afraid to make any promises that she would ultimately find herself unable to keep. She wasn’t an idiot--this was clearly a test. In so many words, just by handing her this box, Chara had challenged her to not only impress her, but also Queen Lilica, and any and all onlookers who would have the privilege to witness this politically momentous event. It was a lot of pressure to put on a single person, especially in that amount of time… and the Rigas woman knew that she could not refuse, lest she throw away the chance of constructing a bridge of peace between not only them, but between Nia and the whole of Galeyn. It was the best (and perhaps, the only) opportunity she had to paint herself in a light other than that of a villain who had once served an even more dangerous villain that had devastated this kingdom for longer than most knew. She couldn’t afford to say no; and she really couldn’t afford to fuck up.
Nia flicked open the lid of the smooth wooden box and beheld the lovely piece of jewelry, with tourmaline at the centerpiece accented with clusters of tiny diamonds. It was both simple yet stunning, and something that would look lovely upon any hand, but the design must have been tailored to Lilica’s hand specifically. Only Chara would know precisely what would stand out to the Galenian Queen. “I can work with this. At any rate, I’ll keep it out of reach of the Queen, considering she seldom makes her way down to the Canaveris villa. I’ll turn this box into something that will take her breath away… on one condition.”
Her smile faded if only to accent the seriousness of the request she was about to make--because it was just that: a request. She was a prisoner and had no right and no power to be making demands on anyone, but Chara needed to know where she stood. Just as the Rigas woman had been open and raw with her, it was her turn to reciprocate. “If I pull this off… I want my freedom. No more confinement, no more guards trailing my every move so that I can hardly take a piss in privacy. I’ve done everything asked of me, and more. I’ve followed Isidor’s orders, I’ve trained my ass off with Elespeth Rigas, I’ve cleaned my plate at all my meals, and I haven’t done a damn thing to harm anyone since Locque died. Look, I know it’s not your call… but it is Queen Lilica’s. And I can’t live like this anyone. Working my ass off to prove my worth for absolutely nothing. I don’t even care if you credit me with Al and El’s re-wedding or whatever I happen to do with this ring. I just want to feel like I finally have space: to breathe, to move, to freely exist. Because…” Her words trailed off as her eyes flicked to Ari, the brown irises swimming with affection and concern. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to help Ari unless I am free of all restraints. At least… consider what I am requesting. Because if you don’t already trust that I’m not going to wreak havoc on this kingdom the second I’m free, then I doubt you ever will.”
With little more to be discussed with regard to either the ring and proposal and Nia’s (hopeful) freedom from imprisonment, Chara took her leave, which afforded the Master Alchemist the time and space to address what had been on her mind, following one of the Rigas woman’s comments. She had anticipated that Ari would make light of whatever ailment he was suffering. He seldom brought up his discomfort to her, or to anyone, unless in the case of a severe flare-up that required immediate attention, and she knew that unless she pressed, he would reveal nothing to her. So she waited until the gloves were removed, and her suspicions were then confirmed--which also solidified a firm decision in her mind. Time was not on their side, and if it were up to her, they would forego the remainder of festivities to take the ultimate risk and transmute the very fiber of his curse until it was no more. Sadly, the decision was not solely up to her, considering how many accompanying parties it required…
Her brown eyes carefully examined the flakes of stone coating his hands like a second skin. She could tap into her alchemy and weft it away, piece by piece… but it would just come back. They both knew this was not a chore that she could realistically keep on top of, if it meant soon taking on the greater task of removing the risk of him ever suffering such discomforts again. “After the Solstice ball, then. I’m confident I’ll have my freedom if I can pull everything off with the Rigas re-wedding and Chara’s proposal to the queen. I’ll have a clear head and all the range I need to make this possible. I’ll talk to Alster and to Isidor, because the only thing that will stop me from removing your curse in under a week’s time is if either of them is lacking in readiness. And if they are…” No. They had to be ready. She couldn’t do this alone.
“...let me take care of Chara’s proposal. You’ve already done so much. Please take it easy until the end of the festival.” All the while knowing that ‘taking it easy’ was not part of the Canaveris lifestyle, since they thrived off of productivity, she had to make her plea all the same. Nia curled her hands around his wrists in turn. “After the Solstice ball… I’m going to end this for you. No more living your life with the fear that you’ll turn to stone, no more impediments to your sculpting or painting or sketching. I’m ready, and I’m not going to be more ready. I just need you to be ready, too, so… focus on that right now: being ready. And leave the rest to me.”
If Isidor and Teselin had anything in common, it was guilt. Only for the Master Alchemist from Nairit, he didn’t even know where the guilt began and ended. What was it that he was supposed to be feeling guilty for? Or, perhaps the better question was, what shouldn’t he feel guilty about? Alienating Tivia? Turning down any and all offers Ari had made to invite him into his home and into his life, through some otherworldly bond that could have been? For not knowing he ever had a sister? For not being there for her, or for being there at the wrong moments? Hadwin had made it clear enough during the carriage ride back to the palace that he had not been happy for the Kristeva alchemist’s presence, but Isidor couldn’t leave her, knowing what had happened. After alster had informed him of his sister’s condition, he couldn’t hesitate to bring her back and ensure her safety. But… he hadn’t been the one to save her life. That had been Hadwin, and Nia, and while he had no right to claim any involvement in her recovery… would it have been better if he’d done nothing at all? What would she think of him, what would anyone think of him, to learn that he hadn’t even budged at the news of his own sister’s sudden decline in well-being. He had to have gone, regardless of how anyone--Hadwin included--felt about it.
That said… he couldn’t do anything more for Teselin. Couldn’t fix her arm, couldn’t bring himself to repurpose that Mollengardian piece trinket that had threatened his sister’s life. He hadn’t slept since the morning he had brought her back, and felt, for lack of a better word, stuck in this endless loop of guilt and helplessness. And who should happen to knock on his door, early one afternoon, but perhaps the last person he expected (or wanted) to see.
“Hadwin… is everything alright?” Isidor’s eyes widened, his mind automatically jumping to the worst conclusions. “Is Teselin…” No. The faoladh was too relaxed for there to be an emergency… and somehow, that was all the more unsettling.
“Look, I don’t want trouble.” Isidor lifted his hands and backed away. “Think of me what you will, but I couldn’t sit idle upon hearing what happened to my sister. No, I haven’t been a presence in her life like you have… but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just… don’t know what to do for her.”
His dark gaze trailed to the floor, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “I’ve thought of inviting her to… go back with me. To Nairit. Where she wouldn’t have to worry about just existing as she is, but… that isn’t the sort of life she deserves. Not one existing in a quiet tower in the woods. Teselin wants to bea part of the world, not hide away from it. To such an extent that she’s even willing to risk her life. That’s… that isn’t something I can even relate to.”
Isidor all but recoiled when Hadwin pulled the substance of the former manacle from his pocket and grimaced. “You’re not serious. You saw what that did to her… and you expect me to fix it so she can use it again!?” His face fell, however, when Hadwin made mention of Ari’s decree. “Ari… has banned her from the settlement? But that’s completely unlike him…”
So now not only did he have to grapple with the fact he might be at odds with his new friend, but he was no longer sure if he was doing more harm than good by resisting Teselin’s desire to have that manacle repaired. How could Hadwin want that of her?!
Yet, as it turned out… he had another idea up his sleeve.
“Wait. Wait… you want me to create something to… to trick Teselin? To make her think her magic is subdued? You want me to lie to her.” With an irritable groan, Isidor ran a hand through his slick, dark hair. “Even if I thought this was a good idea, I am a terrible liar, Hadwin. I couldn’t pull it off and tell her, to her face, that I was giving her something to solve all her problems. But… much though I hate to admit it, you do bring up a good point.” Adjusting his spectacles on his face, he took the proffered piece of mangled Mollengardian steel and examined it carefully. Just the feeling of it in his sensitive palm emanated a sense of discomfort. “Even if we can do nothing about Teselin’s magic… it may be good enough, at least for the time being, if we gave her a reason to believe in herself. Or at least believe that she isn’t a danger to anyone. So… listen.”
He handed the hunk of steel back to the faoladh and folded his arms, decidedly firm on his current position. “If we were to do this, it would take more than my alchemy to fool her. I can make something that will mimic that manacle’s effects on her health to a lesser degree, but I can’t make it emanate magical properties, and she’ll be able to sense that. So if you want my cooperation… then you’re going to have to seek Alster’s, as well. Between the two of us, we might be successful, but if he is entirely uncomfortable with the notion, then this idea should entirely get scrapped. So,” he nodded to the door, “go and talk to Alster. And when you have an answer, then come back and talk to me.”
Teselin hadn’t encouraged Hadwin to leave because she wanted to be alone. On the contrary, she wished she could join the denizens below, and return to the bliss she had felt just a couple of days ago when she and Nico had experienced the celebrations together. Despite all the worry she had caused a great number of people, the summoner could not help but only remember that day with fondness. It was the one and only time in her life when she had found the space to enjoy the world she inhabited, as well as its people, without that uptight feeling of impending dread that her magic might take lives yet again. And she would be lying to claim she wouldn’t don that manacle again in a heartbeat, but she hadn’t had the Mollengardian steel in her possession since Nia had melted it off her arm. But just because she existed as a danger to society didn’t mean that Hadwin had to confine himself along with her, and frankly, she was glad that he still knew how to have a life outside of the drama she inadvertently and unwillingly perpetuated.
But that didn’t mean she did not feel lonely in his absence, or in general, shut away in her room because everyone else would run from her, otherwise. Looking up from the parchment in her lap, Teselin tucked her dark hair behind her ears and spied two Galeynians out the window far below, who from this distance appeared to be her age. One, a girl with hair not unlike her own, held an armful of tall wildflowers, while her companion, a young man with equally dark hair, pointed at something ahead and then took one of her arms, urging her onward to see whatever she had spied. Something about being privy to such a vague albeit sweet moment, from the isolation of her room, stirred something hot and painful in Teselin’s chest, and before she knew what was happening, tears were spilling onto the ink she’d clumsily scrawled in practicing her lettering. Why couldn’t that be her? Why was she asking too much to enjoy the simple things that life had to offer?!
Teselin rose from the windowsill and dropped the parchment and the quill, before crossing the room to the other window to see if she could glimpse where those two Galeynians had ventured, and what had caught the young man’s eye. A desperate thought crossed her mind, one where she considered evoking some of the meager magic she could control, and concealing herself in a shroud of visibility. She could wander among the revelers for some time, entirely unbeknownst to them, and live vicariously through their joy for a short time. They couldn’t be afraid of what they could not see…
Her thoughts and tears were interrupted by a deep vibration coming from her pocket. The resonance stone… That was Nico’s voice!
“Nico?” The young summoner cleared her throat, hoping none of her sadness clung to its cadence. Hopefully the stone muffled it too much for Nico to be able to tell she’d been crying. “It’s… it’s really good to hear from you. I’m doing just fine, not to worry.” She smiled, hoping that it carried through the stone more than the strain in her voice. “My arm… doesn’t hurt at all. I’m in no discomfort.” Of course, she made no mention of regaining much use of it, which spoke enough on its own that she needn’t spell it out. “Thank you for the painting. It’s beautiful, and I… am sorry that, despite what you wrote in your note, I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it.”
Teselin turned her head to glance at the underside of her bed, where the parchment had been carefully tucked away, for no other eyes than her own. “I thought it was too beautiful, and I think at least one piece of your art deserves to exist in this world. A piece that you did not create in order to seek approval from your uncle, that is…”
The Kristeva daughtered wiped her damp eyes on the back of her sleeve and wandered away from the window. “Nico, tell me honestly… are you putting yourself at risk by contacting me? I saw your sister before I left the settlement; she had to sneak in when your uncle was occupied with other matters. Don’t… don’t risk getting into trouble on my behalf. What little I was able to enjoy of these celebrations the other day is more than I had a right to hope for. I’m really…” Teselin took a breath and cleared the quaver from her voice. “It’s good to talk to you again. But I don’t understand why you don’t fear me, the same as everyone else, knowing full well what I’m capable of.”
“Nairit? Pffft,” Hadwin blew out his lips in mild distaste. “Just because you’re afraid of returning to your hermit crab shell all alone, without a sliver of pleasant company to fill those empty, dusty halls, doesn’t mean you have to subject others to your purgatory. And you’re dead right about that,” he leaned his back against the wall adjacent to Isidor’s door and kept a passive gaze on the hallway like a bored guard desperate for an iota of entertainment; a scuffle, an argument, an intruder…hells, even a droplet from a juicy conversation! “Tes has already come clean about her plans for absconding to the wilds somewhere far, far from civilization and living where no one’ll be bothered by her magical resurgences ever again. And fuck me if that conclusion isn’t damn heartbreaking to hear. The kid’s experienced life in the wrong order, dealing with all the mature, adult-level parts first. Now when she finally gets a sample of what people her age have, it’s snatched out of her desperate hands and then she’s gotta deal with all the well-meaning blowhards who think they know better, but they’re not her, so they don’t know shit about what she has to go through just to stay afloat. Doesn’t matter because fuck do they have opinions about how her situation should be handled. Soon, she’ll start believing, hells, she’s already believing, these little joys aren’t for her. Friendships, and celebrations, carefree little outings, falling in love. What so many folks take for granted every damn day because they don’t have to think about what might happen if they become too excited, or too upset, or too pissed off. They can afford to be careless without fearing every fucking second that they’re gonna hurt someone just by existing loudly enough.”
“So I’d say fuck Fancypants for refusing to let her exist around him and his precious settlement and fuck everyone else who can’t understand that this risk,” he rattled the two dangling ends of the half-damaged manacle, nearly slapping it against Isidor’s face during his heaving diatribe, “is worth the reward. This is something she’s willing to die to obtain, even if it only buys her a few hours at a time before she’s too sick to function. That’s how important it is to her to live fragments of her life like a normal fucking human being. So spare me your outrage and your morals, Tower-boy. Her hope’s gone. Kaput. She’s got no faith in any solutions that’ll come her way honestly. We take this from her and she’ll really have fuck all left, because that’s how far she’s fallen. It’s this or nothing. Do you get it now?”
Whether or not he did, Isidor was caught up on one annoying little detail in Hadwin’s amendment to his original plan. Sure enough, what started off as, “Coerce Isidor into mending Teselin’s manacle,” suddenly evolved into, “Coerce Isidor into creating a convincing dummy.” Call it a stroke of inspiration, or madness (they amounted to the same in the end), but Hadwin pushed himself against the wall, his days-gone vigor revived at the smell of a challenge, at the smell of a possible long-term solution for Teselin. Trick her into thinking she had the genuine article, and let her learn she had the power in her all along to control her wayward magic. Of course. It was all so damn simple! And he was good at deception, too! He could lie through his teeth all day and not break a sweat, or lose any sleep over it. Isidor, on the other hand…
“That’s the trouble with you wound-tight, by-the-book types,” he scoffed, dropping his hand after he passed the manacle over to Isidor. “You won’t do what’s necessary because you think it’s ‘wrong’ or whatever simplistic as fuck explanation you’ve got for me. But you do strike a fair point, there. You couldn’t lie to save your life. Might have to let Nia cover for you or just learn to lie by omission. In any case, I’ll be the prime spokesman for this little misadventure. It also means I’ll be the one taking the heat if it all goes south and Tes smells deceit on the breeze. But lookie you! I knew you’d see things my way!” Chuckling gaily, he gave the Master Alchemist a companionable slap on the shoulder. “Maybe you’re not a miserable stick-in-the-mud after all. Well, not entirely. Also, say no more about Al.” He tugged on one of his earlobes and jerked his chin towards the hallway. “He approaches. He can never stay far from you for long, y’know,” he smirked, winking suggestively.
Just as Hadwin’s acute senses intuited, Alster appeared around the corner, heading straight for Isidor’s chambers. He paused mid-stride, confusion plying his features, upon viewing Isidor and Hadwin? chatting out in the corridor together, neither seeming too concerned about the fact they were sharing each other’s proximity.
“Isidor, Hadwin. Is anything the matter?” Confusion gave way to concern. Something had to have happened. It was the only other explanation that fit for why two sworn enemies were breathing the same air together and not actively trying to wring the other’s throat. “Is Teselin—“
“—Yeah, she’s fine,” Hadwin waved a dismissive hand at Alster. “I mean, her arm’s still the same, but it’s not causing her any pain or discomfort. Gotta say, though, you’ve got ace timing today. We were just talking about you. All good things, rest assured! Got a scheme I’m hatching and we need your ok to see it through.”
Relocating inside Isidor’s chambers, with the door shut to deter any opportunistic passersby, Alster listened as Hadwin drafted out his intentions of tricking Teselin into believing she carried the authentic manacle, and not an ineffectual rendition of the original.
Alster pressed both hands—organic and steel—to his mouth, contemplating the pros and cons of such a hazardous idea. “You do realize this has the potential to backfire. Disastrously. If she catches wind that we’ve given her a dummy manacle under the pretense that it’s the real deal, the betrayal she would feel might trigger another destructive episode. And we’d be the responsible party if such a thing happens.”
“Let’s be honest, Al.” Hadwin chewed on the stem of his unlit pipe, just to have something to chew instead of his fingers. “Any plan involving Tes has the potential to end disastrously. At least with this one, some good might come out of it for everyone involved. We don’t have to worry the manacle’s gonna snuff the life out of her, and she’ll be happy believing she’s got the real thing. For greater authenticity, we three will be the only ones who know the truth. Secrets hold better when fewer are in the know. We can cover our hides, too, by claiming the manacle’s not one hundred percent up to snuff after getting partially destroyed, so she’ll write off any perceived defects as just that; defects, and not something we tampered with willfully. Worst case scenario, she’ll give us the benefit of the doubt for a damn while before she comes forth with suspicions about any wrongdoings on our part. That’s just the kind of person she is; trusting to a fault.”
“And you’re ok with this?” Alster raised an eyebrow at Hadwin. “To possibly lose Teselin’s unerring trust in you if the ugly truth comes to light?”
At that, the faoladh smiled, closed-mouthed, calm, and undeterred. “The kid knows how I operate. She might be hurt, but she’ll say my heart was in the right place or something in that vein and forgive me. If not, well,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but a waver of suffused panic shivered around the corners of his mouth, threatening to unseat his deceptive self-confidence, “not like I’m unused to ruining lives at this stage. So long as she’s alright, she can hate me till kingdom come. But enough of all this baseless conjecture.” He snapped his attention at Alster, aggressively shifting the mood before the Rigas mage could even think of giving him a piteous stare or preach some unhelpful platitudes at him. “Can this be done? Doro here seems to think he can replicate the manacle’s ill-breeding effects, but what about you? I take it you’ll have to imbue a lot of magical energy into it so you can fool her into treating it like an enchanted object.”
Alster lowered his hands upon Isidor’s work table where he sat, drumming his steel fingers against its wooden surface in thought. “It’ll take a lot more than that to fool her. I’ll also have to cast some near-impenetrable shielding spells on the manacle so that her still-active magic won’t be able to detect any tell-tale nuances while she’s wearing it. By nature of her magic, she’s incredibly sensitive to energy. She might not be able to pinpoint and name the subtle shifts in it as accurately as I can, but she’ll notice something isn’t right if she can still sense extant magic in the manacle when its nullifying properties should be preventing her from feeling any kind of pull at all. Unless we can explain to her that the manacle might leave certain aspects of her passive magic untouched by way of ‘covering our hides,’ as you say.”
“See, you’re getting it, Al!” Hadwin smacked the table in his enthusiasm. “Pah, I don’t have to worry about your inability to lie; you’ve gotten pretty good at it ever since you mind-melded with the Serpent!”
“That’s…” Alster coughed, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
“Oh, right. That’s still a sore point with you. My bad! Guess we’ll call it even, then,” he grinned wickedly. A petty win was still a win, and he wasn’t done seeking revenge on Alster for the other day.
“Anyway,” Alster coughed again, “In order to become familiarized with the manacle’s energies and reliably replicate its sensation when worn versus its sensation when removed, I’ll have to wear this thing myself, for a day or two, and log the results. So,” he slid the manacle, which Isidor had deposited on the table for inspection, towards him, “we’ll have to fix up the real one, after all. But purely for experimental purposes. It will not return to Teselin.”
“Wow, talk about dedication. So you’re gonna be without your magic for a few days, huh?” Hadwin cocked a curious head to one side. “How’s that gonna affect you?”
“Funnily enough…the dead opposite happens to me when I’m without my magic for any significant period of time.” Alster grimaced at the memory, one he was eager not to relive. “I don’t get sick when it’s absent, but the shock of having it return to me all at once triggers a rather nasty fever and flu-like symptoms. But it’s fine; the symptoms will wear off within the day. If we want this done as soon as possible, then I’ll start wearing this manacle as soon as today once we remold it into proper working order.” He looked across the table at Isidor, monitoring his expression carefully. “I’m sorry, Isidor. I didn’t mean to take charge without first asking you if this is something you’re comfortable doing. Yes or no, I’ll take your lead.”
“You gonna be ok in time for the Solstice ball, though?” Hadwin said, rolling his tongue lazily in his mouth. “You know Chara’s gonna force you to go so she can show up Fancypants and outcompete him on party-throwing. If you turn up sick or magically depleted, sure as shit she’s gonna pitch a fucking fit.”
“You’re…probably right,” Alster rubbed the back of his head, his smile rueful. “But, it would be the perfect excuse not to go…or to only make a brief appearance later on. I’m still recovering from the last ball. I don’t think anyone would miss me terribly if I went in absentia.”
“Yeah, good fucking luck with that,” Hadwin chortled, giving nothing away regarding the colossal mistake Alster would make if he decided to bail on his and Elespeth’s own surprise wedding. “Chara will hunt you down. And with your magic on the fritz, you won’t be able to portal yourself out of her ever-furious grasp.”
Creating the resonance stones had been easy. Deciding to use them, however…not so much.
Nico hadn’t forgotten his last conversation with Nia, and how his next steps depended on his values and desires. Would he risk damaging his relationship with Ari for a woman, a friend, he had known for only a day? It seemed disproportionate, to sacrifice so much of his standing within his family and offset the trust of his uncle, which he so desperately wished to obtain, for an outsider and an outcast to society. Yet, here he sat, in his quarters, hunched over his desk with the tiny black pond-stone creating a puddle of sticky sweat in his open palm.
What he did next would be critical. A critical move. A critical betrayal of his uncle. If he activated the resonance stone to chat with Teselin, then he was ultimately placing his loyalties elsewhere. After he spoke his first words into that communication device, no longer could he solely identify as a representative member of the Canaveris collective, but…wasn’t this what he wanted? Personal autonomy? To embody more than just his illustrious name and the numerous privileges associated with it? Didn’t he wish to thrive on his own merits, and not on those designed by the family patriarch to follow?
It is a small rebellion, he reasoned, scrambling to justify his actions. Uncle Ari might not approve, but he will understand. He is not like Father. He supports outcasts. He is merely succumbing to the pressures from his benefactors, but I know…I know…he does not want to see Teselin hurt.
Comforted in emerging victorious from his self-argument, Nico lifted the resonance stone to his lips…and spoke.
He spoke, and found that he could not stop! Oh gods, he pleaded. Cut off my tongue this very instant. She will find me an idiot for prattling on about my foolish profundities!
Teselin was either unfailingly polite, or genuinely interested, for she did not hesitate to respond, the tinniness of her voice (compliments of the resonance stone), paired with a few somber, underlying notes, alerted him to an upright position on his chair. Had she been crying?!
“Oh, you flatter me, Miss Kristeva,” he said, nodding to himself knowingly. Of course she was unable to destroy his painting. The girl was too pure-hearted to deliberately destroy anything at all! “If it means so much that one piece of my art should survive, then…it is yours, to do with what you please. I only ask that you not reveal the name of the artist. Especially not to another Canaveris. In any case, I am…glad you enjoyed my rendition of a storm. I much prefer rendering these darker subjects to canvas. Some can be, frankly, too alarming to discuss in polite company,” he laughed nervously. “I hope you do not think less of me for finding an attraction to the macabre. My intention is not to mock others’ pain or discomfort when I paint scenes of death or of apocalypses, but to…allow them a platform. A place. Far too many people spurn the chaos and dystopia I strive to depict out of fear or misunderstanding, but…should they not be honored? Understood? Acknowledged? Perhaps even…celebrated?”
“To that end…why should I fear you? You are a young lady, are you not?” He felt his cheeks heat, berating himself for so blunt an observation. “I mean…that is who and what you are, first and foremost. You are not a storm. You are not chaos incarnate. You are Miss Teselin Kristeva, and you should be treated no different than any other mage, any other person. Perhaps that makes me naive, I realize. We can be many things all at once. I am a Canaveris, for example, but also, I am a mage. An artist. A son, a nephew, and a brother, even. But tell me, Miss Kristeva; if one were to ask for your descriptors, what would you say? How would you introduce yourself to a stranger? Do you tell them, ‘I am a powerful summoner who cannot control my destructive power. Do not engage with me’? If not, do you omit this part of yourself out of shame, or because you do not define yourself as such? You do not need to answer if my questions are too invasive,” he hurried, looking away from the resonance stone to a plainly-colored wall on the far corner of the room, partially shadowed by drawn-up curtains opposite him. “My clear answer to you, Miss Kristeva, is that…I,” the pools of sweat on his palms threatened to spread into a swamp and coat his body whole, “I fancy you, a-and I would like to know you better, if you would have me as a companion. Please do not worry for me. I may be defying my uncle, but he is confused, and afraid—and he will certainly see things my way if he comes to discover our correspondences. Be that as it may, let us enjoy this simple back-and-forth with each other. Unless,” he sucked in a worried breath, “I am bothering you?”
An irrational part of Teselin had been genuinely worried that Nico would be disappointed, upon learning that she had not followed his instructions to destroy the painting after she had seen it. He had already explained to her the reasons why he was apt to destroy his own work, and she felt he had trusted her to follow suit, but… she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t destroy something that was a gift, and with the exception of Hadwin who had a habit of bringing her knick-knacks and other interesting conversation pieces when she was down, the young summoner couldn’t remember the last time she had received a gift. If she were being honest, despite the destructive theme of Nico’s painting (something to which she could obviously relate--which had likely been his motivation behind painting it), she felt a curious sense of calm whenever she took it out to gaze upon the mixture of dark and vibrant hues--which was often. One of his directions to which she did adhere was that she only ever took it out from under her bed when she had a moment alone. Of course, Hadwin was probably already aware of its existence, as well as who it was probably from, but she had never made mention of who had gifted her the small painting. Teselin respected Nico’s desire for anonymity when it wasn’t a work of art of which his family--particularly his uncle--would approve. The fact he trusted her with something that could be potentially incriminating with regard to his image as an artist was not something the Kristeva daughter took lightly.
“Your secret is safe with me. There are plenty of artists in Galeyn; I won’t mention your name, and if the painting is found, there should be no way to trace it back to you.” Teselin reassured him, and was seemingly unperturbed by his confession to admiration of the darker things in life. There was always beauty to be found, even if the darkest of places; even she was aware that all it took was looking in the right place, or seeing things from a different perspective. However… she wasn’t sure if it applied to her. She wanted it to, and the meaning behind the storm he had painted specifically for her had not been lost on the young summoner. He was not mocking her or rubbing salt into a wound, drawing attention to what was very much akin to what had happened in Apelrade. She had never been under the impression that Nico was that kind of person (at least, not toward her), and his presence had been so genuine in the short time they had spent together the other day. He’d bought her a gift (and accepted the one she had brought), had given her the opportunity to see the parade floats up close, had briefly shown her around some of the events that had been taking place before his uncle had split them up. That wasn’t the behaviour of someone who sought to hurt her. Perhaps that was why the dark painting with its streaks of violet and vermillion lightning had not struck her as triggering.
And yet… she couldn’t quite see herself the way that he saw her. “I’m not sure… that I can fall into that category, Nico.” Teselin’s voice dropped to a quieter tone as she took a seat on the opposite windowsill. How her heart ached to be a part of the crowd below, people making merry and letting go of their worries long enough to have a good time. It made her lament the day that Sylvie had taken her to the tailor to fashion her a custom dress; it made her regret not partaking in more of the celebrations when Galeyn had celebrated the birth of the Sorde twins, almost one year ago, now. Or the festivities of Alster’s birthday, or the day that Elespeth had been named an honourary Rigas. She hadn’t even participated in any of the light fanfare back in Braighdath that the city had put on for the D’Marian refugees. It wasn’t until now, that all future opportunities bearing similarities to everything she had been too preoccupied with concern to enjoy were off the table, that she realized how much she wanted it. How much she wanted nothing to do with magic, and everything to do with living a life that allowed her the freedom to experience the world and what it had to offer… without the risk of putting innocent people in danger.
Her voice threatened to catch again, hot tears threatened to wet her cheeks. Teselin closed her fingers around the resonance stone to muffle the sound as she took a shaky breath to regain her composure. It was as if every emotion she’d carefully kept inside, all of the disappointment and despair and longing to be a part of a world that hated her were rushing at her all at once… all of them triggered simply by hearing the voice of someone who refused to see her as a danger. Or as anything other than a person.
Nico’s questions gave her pause to consider answers that she hadn’t thought of before. How would she introduce herself to a stranger? The last time she had introduced herself at all had simply been in relation to her brothers. As a Kristeva, which wasn’t exactly a name that carried much respect, but rather, infamy, all thanks to Vitali. But she had never introduced herself as a summoner, or in any way with relation to magic because that was something she had always wanted to hide, however unconsciously. Hells, it wasn’t often she even used her own name in introductions, in an attempt to diminish herself to someone insignificant that needn’t be feared. I’m Vitali’s sister. I’m Isidor’s sister. It made her realize in that moment that, perhaps, she had never given herself the credit of defining herself in terms of being a person at all. Because it was easier to come across as safe and no-offensive if she could blend in to her surroundings and other people. Because people seldom feared a wallflower… But, that didn’t mean Nico was wrong.
From across the room, the young summoner caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her dark eyes, dark hair which had grown past her shoulders in two years, cheeks tinted pink from her short bout of crying, right arm hanging limp in her sling. She didn’t look dangerous, not in the way that Vitali did, with his extravagant choices in wardrobe and his general air of untrustworthiness. To anyone who didn’t know what she was, what she was capable of… she was just another girl. She could be anyone. “By now, it would be impossible to introduce myself to anyone who doesn’t know what I am capable of.” She said at last into the resonance stone, after a long pause to consider her words carefully. “But if I had the chance to meet someone new who didn’t know who I am… or what I can do… I wouldn’t mention magic at all. Because maybe, just maybe, if I could convince someone I am just an ordinary person, it would be easier for me to believe it. That I’m a person at all; and not an omen.”
But… wasn’t that precisely what Nico was trying to tell her? That he saw her not as an omen, or a tragedy waiting to happen, but as a person? It did seem that way, and when Ari’s nephew continued on his train of thought and honesty, he actually managed to take her off guard with a very nervous confession. Does he mean… The young summoner was rendered temporarily speechless, as the entire concept felt so foreign to her. And perhaps that was the most heartbreaking part of all of this. Any other girl her age, newly budding from adolescence and entering young adulthood, would be making a point of searching for their soulmate, a romantic companion, someone to make them feel far more special than they actually were. Yet the entire notion of something so common and domestic had never struck Teselin as applying to herself, at all. Those who dreamed of romance, those such as Sylvie Canaveris, had some idea as to where their future led. Nico’s sister was a Canaveris, part of a wealthy and respected family, and while her role in it had left something to be desired by her own admission, what lay before her in the years to come. The possibility that she might one day end up being the death of everyone she loved and cherished was not in her cards, so… why not romanticize the future?
That said… could such a simple and beautiful notion ever apply to her? Certainly, she had enough reasons to argue the ‘why not’, but what about the ‘why’?
“You… you aren’t bothering me, Nico. I was hoping you would contact me, but I was… I don’t know. I was afraid to do it first, because I didn’t want to incriminate you to your family. The other day, when your sister turned me down because she was too afraid to make amends… you could have sent me home. But instead, you chose to give me a reason to stay--in spite of what I was responsible for the night before…” She couldn’t help it; she smiled. While going home might have been the safe thing to do, considering what had happened to her later that day, Teselin simply couldn’t bring herself to regret spending that half-day with Nico. The memory of it brought her nothing but joy. “Even if I never experience that again, you gave me a memory I can hold onto. An experience that nothing can take away. But, if I do, somehow, find the opportunity again… I don’t want what I experienced to be the last. I regret that I haven’t gotten to know you better beyond what I know now, but…”
She turned her gaze to the window. To the people below. The festivities. The shared joy in companionship among the festival goers… “...if we can find a way, I’d like to continue to get to know you better as a companion. Nico…” The young summoner drew in a breath. She couldn’t believe what she was about to say, how it went so against her sweet and compliant sort of character… but she couldn’t stop herself. “I don’t imagine I can return to the D’Marian settlement… not anytime soon. But you are not barred from leaving the settlement, are you? If your uncle hasn’t forbidden you…” Teselin gripped the stone tighter in her palm, paused, and relaxed her fingers. “I want to see you again. I don’t know… what it means to live a normal life, or to have ordinary concerns, or even to wake up every day and know what is expected of me. I even failed terribly at knowing how to celebrate and have fun at your uncle’s ball. But I want to learn. There’s no guarantee I will have many more opportunities, before the entire world banishes me, and there is nowhere else for me to go.”
“What gave you the idea I’m afraid of returning to Nairit alone? I’ve spent my entire life alone, mutt; it’s all that I know.” Isidor couldn’t help but snap, though felt otherwise uncertain as to where the defensiveness was coming from. Perhaps everything the faoladh said rubbed him the wrong way. “And it is still what I want to return to, when I’ve finally made good on every fucking promise I am bound to. I only thought to extend the invitation to my sister to offer her a reprieve from a world that fears her because it doesn’t understand her. But I know that is not a solution… and it isn’t what she deserves. It isn’t what I want for her--so it’s out of the question.”
It wasn’t as though Isidor knew anything about a normal life trajectory, either… and Hadwin was right. That was something Teselin needed: someone to help her experience the sort of life she deserved. Not one where she ran away, or hid away, but one that she was free to live to her fullest.
…even if it meant deceiving her.
“It doesn’t matter whether it is right or wrong--although I’m sure even you can smell the foul stench of deceit, however you try to spin it as being the right thing to do.” The Master Alchemist folded his arms and leaned his body heavily against the wall. “I can’t lie. I can hardly do it by omission--do you have any idea how hard I have had to practice in front of a mirror for the solstice ball, where it’s up to me to convince Alster to show up to a certain special event? This is going to have to be on you. And if it takes a turn for the worst… I want nothing to do with those consequences. Should Teselin ask, I will tell her you bullied me into it. Which isn’t, in fact, a far cry from the truth, because it is the truth. And anyway,” he waved his hand in a gesture of uncertainty. “We still don’t know that Alster will even agree. He rests on more morals and ethics than you do, anyway.”
Of course, just as he should mention the Rigas mage, so should the man himself cross their paths… much to Isidor’s dismay. He had rather been counting on Alster being too busy to talk, let alone consider what Hadwin was planning. “Alster…” Isidor sighed, turning his gaze helplessly to the floor. “You might as well let Hadwin explain. It’s his harebrained idea, after all.”
So the Master Alchemist kept his mouth shut while the faoladh blathered his insanity… and, truly, he hadn’t expected Alster to agree so readily. At least, not in the sense that he was proposing caveats to his own idea of the notion’s feasibility. But that was on Hadwin. He always seemed to have a way to pitch his bad ideas that made them seem as though, ridiculous as they were, there was no other option. And, frankly… no one else had any other options to propose for his sister. With nothing else on the table, even the most ludicrous of proposals were better than nothing.
“You’re sure you want to subdue your own magic as early as today, Alster? Even if it means being unwell for sometime after?” Isidor couldn’t help but echo Hadwin’s not so subtle concerns; namely, that the Rigas mage be well and able to attend the Solstice ball. But it would look suspicious for him, of all people, to heavily encourage Alster to attend a ball that he wouldn’t even be attending, were it not for his role facilitating the wedding that Chara and Ari were planning. “I want to help Teselin, and as much as I hate the idea of deceiving her, I agree it may be the only feasible bandage-solution for the time being. But first and foremost… I’m concerned about her health. Particularly, her arm. She’s recovered in every other capacity, but still lacks strength and dexterity in her dominant arm, and… and I don’t want that to be permanent for her. I know you were able to help my brother, once, when an injury left his arm useless as well. Would you be able to do the same for my sister? At least, in small increments so it doesn’t have to be as painful for her?”
Isidor couldn’t lie; hells, it was difficult for him to even pretend like he didn’t know something about the Solstice ball that Alster didn’t. The best that he could do was deflect, and turn to another issue entirely. And his concern for Teselin and what had become of her arm was no farce. “The Solstice ball is in a couple of days… and honestly, if I want to do a good job replicating that manacle, it’s going to take me more than a day to get it right. You’re correct in assuming that my sister isn’t easily fooled; this is not something that can be rushed. If it’s all the same… could you take the time leading up to the ball to see if anything can be done for her mobility? I’d… I’d really appreciate it, knowing her well-being is in good hands. And it will give me time I need to repair the original manacle as well as create a seemingly identical copy. Does…” Suddenly nervous that he was coming off far too thick, he averted his gaze to the floor. “Does that sound reasonable?”
If Alster caught wind that Isidor considered him a bastion of morality and ethics, he would probably snort aloud from the ridiculousness of the title. Why, on the evening of the masquerade ball, it was he who suggested to Elespeth that they make love on a float—and it wouldn’t have mattered which float they occupied for the deed. He collected secrets like rare tomes and didn’t think about the prolonged harm not sharing some of them would cause among certain parties. His loyalties ran as mercurial as the wind; he would endorse an ally in the same breath as an adversary. He essentially sold his soul to a cosmic horror for little more than survival, expanding his consciousness and becoming the sort of entity who would depart from the world in a heartbeat if he wasn’t grounded and involved enough in his immediate surroundings. He had taken enormous lengths to ensure his relevancy as a being who none should ever cross, and would do it again as a matter of course, and yes, he would lie to an emotionally-vulnerable girl if it both saved her life and her reason for living. That much was glaringly evident when he agreed to Hadwin’s scheme without so much as a sputter of protest. Then again, he had also agreed to abet in Cwenha’s revival—yet another proposal born from the mind of the unhinged faoladh. Why anyone ended up going along with his unorthodox—and highly questionable—plans, Alster hadn’t the slightest, but when it came to Teselin, who the wolf loved and protected fiercely, Alster knew this plan didn’t come easily for him. Much as he went on about deceptive practices being a breeze for a rake and a scoundrel of his ilk, Hadwin seemed particularly careful about sparing Teselin from the worst, most rotten side of him. But if even he thought lying would grant her best chance for the life she fervently wanted and which would ensure her survival, free of constant debilitating sickness, then the faoladh had reached his lowest point, indeed, and was truly desperate for a solution, however dishonest. For her sake, he would risk becoming a traitor to Teselin, possibly losing her trust indefinitely.
And he likely despised himself for it, deep down.
“The two of you are in the all-clear, no worries,” Hadwin rolled back his shoulders, reveling in the loud, unsettling cracks they emitted. “If our shady dealings should ever come to light, the story is that I bullied Dorio here into it, and I’m in complete agreement with his assessment. I did exactly that because I am a fucking bully,” he grinned his toothy, predatory grin. “For you, though, Al,” he clicked his tongue, frowning thoughtfully, “we’ll just say you owed me one doozy of a favor. Considering all I’ve done for you in the past, it’s a cover story that rings more true than false. That way, the two of you save your reputations, and I continue to surprise no one by being the absolute worst. Sound fair?”
“On one other condition.” Alster turned the silvery manacle around in his hands, metal clinking on prosthetic metal. “We construct a failsafe on her replicated manacle. In the event the placebo is not strong enough and she succumbs to a strong, cataclysm-triggering emotional response, we outfit the device with a sensor of sorts, which will monitor her heartbeat, the spikes of her blood pressure, and the shifting energies that preclude a destructive episode. Once these conditions are met, a harmless electric pulse will emit from the manacle and send her to sleep immediately. It’s drastic, I know,” he sighed, letting the manacle slither out of his hands and clank on the table, “but the price of freedom is drastic for those of us whose power can hardly be contained.”
“You know, I’m not in love with that idea,” Hadwin gripped the sides of the table and released each finger slowly, measuringly. “But…you can never have too many precautions. Just as long as it works and doesn’t fuck her up beyond repair. Or at all. But,” with a gruff sigh, he pushed from the table, “it sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, between your and Dorio’s modifications and the little experiment with the manacle loving up on your wrist. I’m inclined to agree with your buddy here, though. Too soon to shunt away your magic when Tes’s arm takes more precedence.”
“Right. Of course. I’m getting ahead of myself. I suppose I wanted an excuse not to attend the ball,” Alster admitted with a weary smile. “I’m sure Elespeth feels similarly, too. I can definitely see about her arm. And it’s as you say, Isidor,” he dipped his head into a nod. “I am doing just that, approaching the afflicted areas of her arm microsection by microsection as opposed to all at once, as was the case with your detestable brother.” Although he used an intensifier when referring to Vitali, he found it a trifle difficult to lean into the word for emphasis. Unlike most everyone, his relationship with the necromancer bordered more on watered-down distaste than full-blown acrimony. “Teselin’s nerve damage is a lot more pronounced and concentrated all in a very specific area and will require more nuanced care and handling, but I’m sure, after a handful of sessions, I will have reversed most, if not all, of the damage. In fact, I’ll go ahead and check on her.” Rising from his chair, he turned to the door. “Keep me abreast of your progress, Isidor. I’ll return later.” He raised an arch eyebrow at his friend. “With a sleep tonic for you.”
At his departure, Hadwin chuckled lightly at Serpent Lord’s parting words. “Ah, what a prince, looking out for your sleep like that! Not like you’ll take it or anything,” he wrinkled his nose, catching a faint whiff of lavender from what he assumed belonged to an untouched draught on the nearby shelf. “But I can’t rightly judge. Hells, I’m on sleep aids myself. Ever try Papa Sorde’s shit? That’ll knock you right off your feet in seconds. But that’s all beside the point.” Standing, he approached Isidor, but his piercing, scrutinizing stare held a more favorable, appraising light. “Anyone ever tell you that you excel at deflection? Psh, looks like you won’t have to lie after all if you focus on what’s truthful and segue into related subjects in the artful way you just did. Gotta give credit where credit’s due, y’know. And hey,” his voice buffed away some of its sharp edges, “I didn’t actually want to punch you in the face. You wanna be a brother to Tes, go right ahead. But I can’t say I won’t be pissed off if you do it wrong, or you step on my toes to get there. Oh,” he snapped his fingers and turned back from the door, remembering something before he begged off, “living alone might be all that you know, but ever stop to consider it might not be all that you want, anymore? Just some food for thought. Speaking of,” he lowered his volume to a pinch of a whisper as he thumbed out to the hallway, “she’s here, y’know. In the palace. Tivia. Sneaky as all get out, but her scent’s unmistakable. Lurking around corners. Seems to like this hallway in particular. Wonder why that is? Well,” his grin broadened, “she can’t stay hidden forever. And I don’t think she wants to.” On that baiting note, Hadwin turned and made his leave from Isidor’s quarters. He had a wedding cake to bake, after all. …And a big, trusting heart to wound.
Yeah, why hide it, Ro? Hadwin snorted at the shadows as he traversed the palace corridors alone. I’ll play to my strengths. I’ll lie, and cheat, and do horrible shit…if she’ll be happy, and free, and full of hope. Even if it’s for a little while…I’d die for that.
“So then it is true, because you believe it to be true. Or want to believe it true.” Nico rose from his chair and paced around the room to exercise some of the frenetic, nervous energy that developed from their conversation—from the fact they were conversing at all, forbidden as it was! “And seeing as it is how you prefer others to perceive you, that is how I will continue to view you, from here on henceforth. As a person. Though I may argue the ‘ordinary’ bit. Rather, I find you very extraordinary, but I realize you think otherwise, so I shall not belabor the point.”
Alas, he had another point to make, and dearly wished he hadn’t the moment the confession buzzed out of his lips. Where in all the nine realms did he learn such straightforward boldness?! Certainly not from his father or uncle, who danced around the meanings of words like smoke on the breeze, circumlocuting from one topic to the other. Oh, how, at that moment, he wished for just an ounce of their tact! Why he thought to blurt out such a weighty proclamation within days of knowing her, he hadn’t the foggiest idea! Now she must think him a lunatic, a love-drunk fool, an artist, but as a pejorative for an overly-sentimental laggard who expected reality to align to his whimsy. What woman would deign to associate with him after declaring his affection scarcely into their second conversation? She would call him churlish, infatuated, and insincere. In love with the idea of being in love, or out for a lark at their expense. If he had done this correctly, he would have cradled this seed close to his chest and waited before he planted it into the ground. Too soon, and the soil, in midst of a spring thaw, would reject the seed with a frigid, unchurched firmness. Teselin could not possibly intend on welcoming his unscrupulous company!
He was about to apologize profusely to her until she intimated something unexpected. Not only was she not bothered by his…verve, but she wanted them to meet again in person?
“I, too, would like to continue our correspondence face to face. It is not as though I am barred from visiting the palace, especially not for the upcoming Solstice ball. There will also be the dedication ceremony celebrating the completion of the Observatory tower, an event for which I am sure my uncle will want the Canaverises present. We were running a little under schedule, but it should take place a few days after the Solstice ball. Once we have a definitive date, I shall inform you, and we can schedule a third meeting. But I am getting ahead of myself; we haven’t even planned for the second!” A rich, resonant chuckle filled his lungs. When had he been known to laugh in such a carefree, open manner? He hardly thought himself capable! “During the Solstice ball, I shall find you. It should not be so difficult. Your wolf companion will aid us, surely, and…” he hesitated. Would it be too hasty to consider Nia as an ally and an accomplice? Assuming she had been sincere about her reasoning for relating to and empathizing with Teselin’s case, helping her any further would present a conflict of interest if she intended on remaining in Ari’s good graces. “It is possible we might also receive Miss Nia’s blessing,” he said carefully, guardedly. “At any rate, either I will find an opportunity to sneak away and we might rendezvous somewhere private, or perhaps we might also conceive of a method of smuggling you into the ballroom undetected. We shall devise a plan, rest assured. If you ask your wolf friend for assistance, then I,” again, he hesitated, but pushed on recklessly, “then I will ask Miss Nia. We will make this work,” he soothed, already yearning to take her hands in his as a means of comfort. Alas, only his words would suffice, conveyed as they were through a clunky method of communication. “I am of the world. The world cannot ban you if one person, nay, several people, still choose to invite and accept you. Consider where you stand…for it is not alone.”
A few days elapsed without further incident, which in many ways came as a relief to the kingdom of Galeyn—and its leaders. Teselin and Nico continued their clandestine communications, Alster gradually improved the mobility of her arm, Hadwin bounced between focusing on Alster and Elespeth’s wedding cake and popping in on Isidor to check on his progress with the manacle. Ari, despite being told to rest, assisted Chara in decorating for the Solstice festival, while the latter fretted over the components of her very public—and very nerve-inducing proposal. To her rare credit, however, she managed to convince Lilica and Haraldur to remove Nia’s personal guard but only on the proviso that he appear in public venues so as to keep up appearances. Galeynians, after all, were not quite ready to accept Locque’s former lackey roving about the kingdom with impunity. As a prisoner, she needed to embody the role until the public was satisfied with an adequate display of penitence and humility. Depending on how Chara’s proposal would go, public opinion might yet sway for those involved—in one direction or the other.
On the morning of the vaunted Solstice ball, Nia received an uninvited visitor inside Ari’s study-turned-alchemist workshop. Without knocking or otherwise announcing his presence, Nico slunk inside and secured the latch with a soft, near inaudible click. His head trained downward, the eldest son of Casimiro shuffled forward, almost humbled before the other’s presence. Hands wrung tight and cheeks flushed, Nico turned to his audience and did the unthinkable. He bowed to her, a waist-deep gesture that placed his torso nearly parallel to the ground. “I owe you a multitude of apologies, Miss Nia,” he began. Not having his uncle’s talent for badinage, he dove straight to the point. “And I shall recite them all to you later, but for now, this will have to do.” Straightening to his full height, he still hadn’t the strength of will to meet Nia’s eyes.
“I have been corresponding with Miss Teselin,” he closed the distance between them, switching to a thin, mousey whisper. “And we have decided we would like to continue our correspondence. In person. Tonight, at the ball. We have recruited her wolf companion to facilitate our rendezvous and ensure we remain undetected, but…perhaps you might…I understand you possess a cloak that masks one’s presence, and not to mention, your skill in altering one’s appearance… that would be a boon for her, should she decide to participate in the ball’s festivities. For a little while,” he hurried, half-anticipating a fear-driven, ‘No, that is a horrid idea; do you recall what happened last time she attended a ball?’ “A sampling, if you will. At least long enough to see the wedding, and then we would be on our way to a less populated destination. I understand the risks should you become involved; in particular, it would affect your standing with my uncle, so if you feel you cannot afford to offer your specialized services, it is no issue. Nonetheless,” he rounded his shoulders and mumbled, “I thought I would ask you first, since you seem to empathize with Miss Teselin’s plight the most.”
“Th-thank you, Alster.” It was near impossible for Isidor not to hide the relief that stemmed from the success of his deflection. With lack of sleep to properly coordinate the way he conducted himself, he hadn’t thought that the Rigas caster would consider his request without finding it suspicious. But, perhaps appealing to Alster’s softer side, the side of him that wanted to help others, derailed whatever suspicions might have floated to the surface of his mind. After all, it wasn’t unreasonable for Teselin’s health and safety to come first. “I appreciate it--and I am in agreement. We cannot execute this plan without a failsafe, for the safety of everyone involved. It is by no means a permanent solution… and I would not wish for my sister to live a life such as one that reduces her to the mercy of a manacle. But it will serve as a suitable stand-in for now. I will keep you apprised of my progress repairing and replicating the object in question.”
With their plan sorted out for now, Alster took his leave, and the Master Alchemist reclined against the wall and deflated his lungs in a long sigh. “Maybe there is something to be said for not sleeping.” He offered, to Hadwin’s suggestion that he was not only a Master Alchemist, but a true master of deflection. “If I am too tired to overthink a situation, the answers arrive with less resistance. And I don’t need a tonic.” Isidor waved off the suggestion and offer with a flippant gesture of his hand. “I was sleeping fine and well until a certain necromancer decided to come back from the dead and hold me fast to promises that I had hoped died along with him. Now not only am I beholden to Nia Ardane in assisting her with Ari’s curse removal, but I must play a part in bringing a dead girl back to life. You’ll have to forgive me for missing sleep when it seems just as I am ready to return to Nairit… something continually holds me back.”
Hadwin’s comment to that effect, however, took Isidor off guard. What right did the faoladh have to assume he did not wish to return to a life of solitude? Before his involvement with any of these people, his life had been… safe. Predictable. Slow, moving at a pace that only he set. Sleep had never come easily to him, but he had slept in regular intervals back at his small room in his hidden tower. He was under no pressure to answer to anyone but himself: why wouldn’t he want to return to that?
And it was only then that Isidor realized he had never asked himself that question: really, what was keeping him rooted here in Galeyn, each end every time he considered returning to Nairit?
That was when Hadwin mentioned Tivia. Isidor went instantly alert at her name. “You… she’s here? As in… present in the palace?” There was no telling and no trace as to where the star seer had disappeared to after the masquerade ball. No one had seen her following the catastrophic event that all assumed she had somehow managed to completely erase, as if everyone shared the same memory of some nightmare that had never come to pass. Truthfully, Isidor hadn’t thought much of her, since the sudden reemergence of his brother and all of the animosity that accompanied Vitali’s deceitful “death”. It certainly wouldn’t have crossed his mind that, if she was still here, she would have veered anywhere near him or his quarters. Tivia had made it very clear that she was done with him, long ago. He wasn’t what she needed, even if, to this day, she maintained her hold on his heart. After she had disappeared, and he had failed to find her… what, then, was left? And why, oh why, couldn’t he let go…?
Long after Hadwin had disappeared, Isidor couldn’t help but scan the corridor, looking this way and that for any trace of the ephemeral Rigas woman. Why had she come back…?
Perhaps it wasn’t such a mystery, then, what was keeping him from returning to Nairit. And it didn’t all have to do with keeping promises.
Of course--the Solstice ball. Something she had just mentioned to Hadwin not an hour ago, and yet it had slipped her mind completely that those all over Galeyn, including the D’Marian village, would be in attendance if they chose to go. There was no possible way that Ari would fail to make an appearance, considering he was an important figurehead along with Lilica, and she couldn’t see for the life of her that he would prevent his niece and nephew from partaking in a little bit of joy, just on the off chance that she might be present. Nico could very well be there--but… would it be safe for her to attend another public event so soon, considering what had happened the last time? Not to mention, if Ari caught any of his family cavorting with her, surely he would step in to intervene.
“Nico… I don’t know that I should attend the Solstice ball.” The young summoner’s voice went quiet, devoid of hope once again. “If people see me there, they’ll be afraid, and they’ll leave. And I am sure if your uncle finds the two of us together…” She didn’t bother to elaborate. Nothing good would come of Ari discovering that the two of them had gone behind his back, knowing well enough that he preferred his family mind their own space when in the company of the dangerous summoner. “But, that’s not to say that we cannot meet somewhere else, while the ball is taking place. In fact… that might just be the safest bet, yes? With everyone else attending the ball, and the secret wedding between Alster and Elespeth, they will not be looking over their shoulder to whatever is going on outside of that activity.” Much as she would have loved to attend a dance and experience everything a normal girl her age would be experiencing, she knew better than to push her luck too far.
However, Nico seemed to have already considered this, and had a suggestion as to how they might circumvent any and all suspicion. Teselin sat upright, straightening her spine and held the resonance stone closer to her ear to listen carefully. “You’re right. Hadwin would want to help, although I’m not sure how much his involvement with the wedding will occupy his time. But…” Nia… what made him think she would want to be of help, and be in on their scheme? Wouldn’t her involvement compromise her relationship with Ari? Then again, Nia had been the one to save her life and remove the manacle from her arm, and had been extremely opposed to the notion that she would wear it again, even knowing what it had done to her the first time. Nia did care: there was no question about it. But how far could her care and concern carry her, before Ari would see her interest in the problematic summoner as an act of betrayal?
“...I’ll talk to Hadwin. I don’t know that Nia will agree, but at the very least… I can’t see her betraying your trust. Not even to Ari. I think we can still make this happen.” Teselin dared to smile. Even though his voice was distorted, and its volume varied, and they were several miles apart, Nico was right: she didn’t stand alone. She didn’t feel alone, even in the solitude of her room, where only a few had come to visit this past handful of days. Even if he was only one person, and not the entire world, that even one person who was not a blood relative or who had known her for an extended period of time saw her nonetheless worthy gave her hope. If Nico could see her for who she was beyond her destruction, then maybe others could, as well. If not now… then eventually.
“I’ll keep the resonance stone close. Let me know what Nia says when you speak with her.” Teselin ultimately agreed. She spoke with more energy, and didn’t feel quite so despondent as her eyes followed the tiny moving crowds of people milling about outside. Didn’t feel quite so separate from them… or that what they had was unattainable. “...if I don’t see you at the Solstice ball, Nico, I’ll still see you on that day.” The young summoner told Ari’s nephew with conviction. “That’s a promise.”
Between finalizing the details surrounding how she would go about removing Ari’s curse, as well as agreeing to help distract and prep Elespeth Rigas for her wedding, and concoct something fancy and crowd-pleasing with the engagement ring that Chara had entrusted to her, Nia knew well that she was working beyond her means. But what choice did she have? Ari’s time was running out--she could feel it every time he was near, every time she touched him, and now Chara was offering her a means to finally earn her way into the kingdom’s good graces. She had too much at stake all at once, and could afford to drop absolutely nothing in favour of other tasks.
And she was about to have yet another task balanced on her already overburdened shoulders that she would not be able to turn down.
“...Nico.” Not only was the exhausted Master Alchemist not expecting this particular company on this particular day--just hours before the Solstice ball, the wedding, and the proposal--but she’d never have bet so much as a single copper on the notion that Nicodemo Canaveris would seek her out, only to greet her with a bow and apologies. Was she hallucinating? Was the stress of too many commitments and responsibilities getting the best of her? “It’s… fine, Nico. No apologies necessary. I walked into your life and fucked up your rhythm, but you’re Ari’s family. So that makes you as close as I’ve got to family, too.”
The Master Alchemist wiped her perspiring palms on her skirts and turned away from the desk she’d temporarily borrowed from Ari. She didn’t have to sit and listen to know that he must be approaching her about Teselin; other than Hadwin, there were few who were willing to take such extensive risks for the sweet young summoner, but Nia had already made it clear that she absolutely couldn’t turn a blind eye to the plight of a fellow outcast who only wanted some modicum of normalcy in her life. However, she seemed to have underestimated just how much it meant to Nico to have her as an ally. It was one thing to quietly oppose his uncle’s wishes to steer clear of associating with her through a resonance stone; it was entirely another to undergo a clandestine operation to be in Teselin’s presence. She hadn’t realized just how lasting an impression Isidor and Vitali’s little sister had made on the Canaveris boy. “So you’re really going to do it. Despite what your uncle might think?”
Nia stood then, peeking out the door to see who might be listening nearby, and then closed it tightly. She hadn’t forgotten what Nico had mentioned about Laz, and how Ari’s golem friend missed nothing that ever occurred within the villa.
“Alright… listen. I’ve got a lot riding in today, and the wedding is just a fraction of it all. We’ve got to be very, very clandestine about all this.” The Ardane woman kept her voice deliberately low, for fear of eavesdroppers she might not be able to avoid. “I can give you my cloak if you think that will be of any help to you. Not a problem at all. And if I happen to find some rare spare moment with Tes, I’ll see what I can do to change her eyes or her hair… although that didn’t do much to fool your uncle before, did it? However…”
An idea suddenly clicked; one that was far more feasible, and less likely to leave her completely drained for all she was putting into the tasks that could make or break her today. Before Nico’s face could fall with disappointment, she clasped his shoulder. “It would break my heart if Tes couldn’t experience even a little bit of that ball. Not like Vitali will be given free range to cause any amount of harm this time around. Giving Tes lighter hair and lighter eyes won’t fool anyone. But, I think I know what will; and it’s a hell of a lot easier than using my alchemy. Leave it to me, kid.” Nia grinned and released Nico’s shoulder with a wink. “And you make sure… that that girl feels special, tonight. Or, if not special… then ordinary. Sometimes what might be mundane to one person is magical to someone else.”
So he wouldn’t leave empty-handed, the Master Alchemist handed him a medium-sized leather case. “It might not look like there’s anything inside--and that’s the point. Use the cloak however you will, but the darn thing is mighty easy to lose if you take it off, I’ll warn you. Keep a close eye on it… and good luck.”
Not more than a few hours later, Nia set out to make good on her first promise, and that was to get Elespeth ready for her own wedding without rousing any suspicion in the Rigas woman. That afternoon, she arrived hours early at the palace, and made a point to knock relentlessly on her door, until she had no choice but to answer.
Elespeth was fortunately present, and none-too pleased at the relentless knocking, especially when she opened the door to see who it was. “...Nia. Is there something I can do for you?” The she-warrior attempted to keep the contempt out of her voice, but didn’t much succeed.
“Actually--there is. Put this on,” she tossed a beautifully sewn, silvery-white gown into Elespeth’s arms, “and then have a seat. Like it or not, I’m your personal assistant for as long as it takes you to get ready for the ball in a few hours. Part of my endenture as a prisoner and all; trying to earn my ways into Galeyn’s good books, one favour at a time.”
“Ah… I see. But,” Elespeth looked at smooth, silvery fabric in her arms and frowned. This somehow looked too formal even for Lilica’s ball. “I was planning on wearing my gown from the masquerade once again… but without the excessive body paint.”
“Look, even I know the first rule of high fashion is that you never wear the same outfit to a ball twice--especially not in the same week! Trust me, I’ve thought it all through. Now, go put it on, then have a seat.” The Master Alchemist set a heavy satchel on the ground, piled to the top with cosmetic products she had retrieved from Chara. “You’re not the only one I’ve been tasked with to pretty up for this event!”
And that was the truth. Sometime later, well over an hour, Nia departed Elespeth’s chambers (after passing on strict orders for her not to upset her make-up, hair, or gown), and then quietly made her way to Teselin’s chambers as quietly and surreptitiously as she could. If anyone spotted her outside the girl’s door, it was of no consequence, and they paid her little mind; besides, what she was about to do would in no part register as betrayal to Ari.
This time, she knocked quietly, and waited no more than a few seconds before Teselin answered the door. “Nia.” The young summoner sighed a breath of relief. Her arm was still in a sling, although Alster had managed to restore a moderate amount of strength and motor skills in it over the past couple of days. “My hair and eyes… they didn’t fool Lord Canaveris, last time.”
“Well,” The Master Alchemist set foot in the girl’s chambers and carefully closed the door behind her, lugging that heavy bag of cosmetic colours. “We’re not going to change any of that. If you can’t get away with pretending to be someone else… then we will fool them all by showing them the most exquisite version of yourself.” Nia grinned conspiratorially. “They’ll have no idea. Perhaps you’ll even fool Nico.”
While Nia had been tasked with prepping Elespeth for the wedding she had no idea was about to happen, poor Isidor, already sleep-deprived and overburdened in his own right, had been asked to see that Alster was adequately dressed and prepared for this event. While the man was hardly able to gather his thoughts and words to present a convincing case for the Rigas mage (who was not easily fooled), Chara had asked him personally for this favour, and he knew better than to find his way to that woman’s bad side. “A-Alster? Are you there?” The Master Alchemist’s nervous hands trembled as he gently rapped on the door. It was a couple of hours following Nia’s visit, meaning that Elespeth was still present, having been instructed to not to interfere with all of the Ardane woman’s hard work, and it was she who answered the door, trying to offset the stir-crazy feeling coming over her. “Isidor.” The Rigas woman blinked, but offered the nervous man a gentle smile. “Come in; Alster was just about to step out to see to Teselin’s arm. You caught him just in time. What do you have there?”
Elespeth stepped aside to let the Master Alchemist in. He had over his arm what appeared to be a suit, and he glanced apologetically at the couple. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but… Lady Chara requested I deliver this to you, Alster. It appears she has a very particular image in mind for this Solstice ball.” He handed the suit over to Alster as he approached, and then nervously straightened his spectacles where they sat upon his face. “Rest assured, evidently I am also required to uphold a similar dress code. Sh-she would have delivered this herself, but she assured me she is dreadfully busy… I do apologize for imposing.” He flashed Alster an apologetic smile, and then added, “It would seem that neither of us has the luxury of quietly sitting this event out, after all. Had it not been Lady Chara’s direct request, I might have tried to come up with an excuse, but sadly I am a terrible liar… and I positively dread what the outcome might be, should I disobey or disappoint that woman.”
There was something in the air that day, a busy, high-keen humming, that put Alster on high alert. Not so much because he was expecting the worst—the energy readings he sensed were overwhelmingly festive—but because the last time he felt this particular buzzing had been moments before Chara and Lilica had opened the doors to reveal his surprise centennial celebration. His suspicions only grew when in the afternoon he’d returned to his and Elespeth’s chambers and noticed her exquisite gown catching the light like a silvery, four-pointed star. She flickered and glinted, every movement like a moonburst of beams dancing through the curtains at midnight. Her makeup and hair, as well, were professionally done, upraised in an elaborate braid with wisps of hair curled and framed around her painted face. In spite of himself, he stared, as he had done at the masquerade, appreciating, yet again, a seldom-seen facet of his wife. Not that he loved her truest self any less in comparison, but nothing was wrong with welcoming the softer, more feminine aspects of her beauty, which the gown and makeup accentuated.
“Elespeth, I, ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “I had no idea you were taking the ball this seriously. If I had known your interest, I would have chosen a better outfit in complement. You look beautiful,” he added, kissing her hand in lieu of her cheek, mindful of the powders that had been applied and contoured around her face. “Did you manage to recruit Chara to get you ready? Your gown has her influence practically radiating off it. Not that it’s a bad thing,” he gave a wry smile, “if there’s one indisputable truth about Chara, it’s that she has impeccable taste.”
According to Elespeth, the gown had indeed come from Chara, but it was Nia who had arrived earlier to style her hair and apply her makeup. It was also Nia who had restricted Elespeth from gadding about, which explained why she seemed so adhered to the chair beside the vanity. “Well, Isidor was indeed right; Chara’s not going to allow us to skip this event, is she?”
As if on cue, the door rapped behind them in a series of soft, polite knocks. Before Alster could turn to answer, Elespeth shot out of her seat and rushed over on rustling skirts, likely so starved for something to do that an act as simple as opening a door equated to the pinnacle of physical activity. Sure enough, Isidor was waiting for them in the hallway, haggard and sleepless as ever.
“Isidor, good afternoon!” Alster popped in behind Elespeth, his gaze resting on… “Is that a suit? Why do you…”
Chara. Of course.
“So now she’s assigned you as her errand boy,” he sighed, accepting the suit from Isidor’s arms. From a cursory glance of its cut, stitching, and material, the outfit did not seem tailor-made with Chara’s specific parameters in mind. He was well-acquainted with her fashion-conscious eye, considering how often she would select his wardrobe during his brief residency at the Rigas estate. Following his forty-year exile and the death of his parents, Alster hadn’t cared much at all for appearances, so he had ceded to Chara’s expertise, allowing her full rein to dress him however she liked. Some of his current wardrobe preferences, in fact, stemmed from his cousin’s particulars. ‘Blue is your color,’ she had stated, so now, he preferred blues, of all shades and depths. ‘I like mid-length tunics on you. No wide-necks; you haven’t much a chest to flaunt. A high collar will do you good.’ So he wore mid-length tunics and high collars. Sure, he had a say in making his own modifications—narrower sleeves, fewer buttons and no frills, for instance—but they were practical adjustments, and rarely deviated from his simple, yet established ‘look.’
However, the suit now held in his hands diverged from his safe and plain wardrobe—-significantly. Although midnight blue, a shade approved by his own proclivities, the color was about the only familiar thing about it. For one, it came in three pieces: a cream-colored undershirt, vest, overcoat, and accompanying trousers. For another, the overcoat, waist-length, as he preferred, proliferated with brocade twines of silver ivy around the shoulders and snaked downwards into thin, filigree-like curlicues, eventually thinning into a tapering, vanishing point at the hem. The long bell sleeves repeated the motif, except the vines sinuously climbed in the opposite direction; upward instead of downward. The elaborateness of the piece spoke to the identity of its originator, and it most definitely did not come from Chara. Who else would wear such a fine work of art, and wear it every day, for that matter?
“This is from Ari.” It was not a supposition or an assumption, but a statement of fact. “Why would Chara give me a suit from Ari’s tailor?” Suspicion climbed, but Isidor, as if sensing the predicted trajectory of his friend’s mind, didn’t stay to find out where it would land. Stumbling on his words, he made a clumsy exit before Alster had the opportunity to ask any further questions.
“This can’t be just me.” Shaking his head, Alster closed the door and faced Elespeth, frowning. “Don’t you feel it, too? This overall air of…conspiracy? They’re all scheming something. If it’s another surprise birthday celebration…” He trailed off. No, that couldn’t be it; otherwise, Elespeth would be in on the secret, and she seemed about as baffled as he. Then…were they both the chosen targets for this particular scheme? Inducted as honorary citizens of Galeyn? Honored as heroes for their hand in defeating Locque?
No. That didn’t seem right, either…
Despite everything, Alster was nothing if not agreeable, and as he retreated to the bedroom, changed into the exquisite outfit that represented masquerade-wear better than his actual masquerade ensemble. Returning to the main room, Alster, fully dressed, stood before Elespeth for evaluation, fiddling with the silver-accented belt that cinched around his waist. “So, what do you think?” He spread out his arms, the bells of his sleeves dangling like curtains from their valences. “You would tell me if I looked ridiculous, right?” Self-consciously, he arrived at the washbasin, dipped his fingers in the water, and ran it through his sandy hair, spiking its ends into dampened points. He swept up the rest of the stubborn strands that clung to his forehead, half-wishing he had some oil left over; just a dab, to hold everything in place. Now that he knew Chara and the others were plotting some fling in their honor, he couldn’t very well make an appearance looking like he’d freshly rolled out of bed!
“My eyes are bloodshot. They must be.” He pulled down his lower eyelid and scryed into the mirror, examining any bags or imperfections. “Public outings are one thing, but to be the point of interest…you’ll have to excuse me if I get a little fussy like Ari. It must be the clothes. They’re smothering me with vanity.” He batted away one of the bell sleeves when it flopped over his hand and shook his head in mock exasperation. “But I can’t very well go out there looking like this,” he gestured at his face, “when you,” he gestured at the pearlescent creation spun by the moon, “are too ethereal for words. Not that I could hold a candle to you at my best, but,” he took her hand in his, cradling it with steel digits, “it’s worth the effort, don’t you agree?”
He drew Elespeth closer, no longer caring about ruining her makeup with a kiss…but he paused when the bell tower began to toll the hour. “…Dammit,” he cursed under his breath and pulled away. “I’m supposed to check on Teselin.” He dropped his hand and made for the door. “Let me go do that and I’ll be right back. After all…I have my work ahead of me to make this mug halfway presentable.” Bading his wife farewell, Alster closed the door to their quarters and made the quick jaunt to Teselin’s room. When he entered, he was surprised, but not for the first time that day, to see yet another painted beauty sitting on the bed. At first, he was about to apologize profusely to the woman he’d barged in on so unceremoniously and hurry outside before he started a scandal, but he noticed the sling around her arm and relaxed his posture of alarm.
“Teselin. You’ll have to forgive me for the reaction.” He drifted into the room, smiling apologetically. “At first, I didn’t recognize you and thought I had the wrong room!” He let forth a chuckle as he settled in a chair beside her bed. “Though I’m not one to talk, with the get-up I’ve been made to wear.” He rolled up his grandiose sleeves, but they slid back down to his wrist, refusing to be denied proper, not truncated, admiration. “Don’t ask me why. Unless you’re in on it, too?” He raised a questing eyebrow and scanned her dark eyes, searching for a spark of truth. “No, I won’t pry the information out of you,” he concluded, sitting against the chair’s backrest. “I suppose I’ll find out soon enough. Me and Elespeth both. How’s your arm? Better since last session?”
To his delight, she was able to stretch her arm outwards and rest it on his open palms. Enough mobility had returned to grant her a wide range of motor functions, but she could not, as of yet, raise it past her shoulder, and her dexterity was not quite flexible enough to grip a pen or perform complex tasks. For their session, he continued to send revitalizing, high-vibrational energy along her nervous system whilst also siphoning away the dead, inactive cells with his chthonic magic. After he finished, Teselin found her mobility further improved, but it would take a few more rounds before she recovered the full—or almost full—range of her ability.
“That’s all for today. We’re making good progress.” Rising from his chair, he looked again at Teselin, his head moving at a curious tilt. “You know, Queen Lilica hasn’t officially banned you from attending the ball. Technically, you’re free to go, though I understand how that might generate some concerns among the crowd. There may be some people who would try to stop you…if they recognize you, that is. In any case,” he turned to the door and lifted the latch, “I saw nothing. I know nothing. As far as I’m concerned, you’re recuperating in your room.” And with a conspiratorial wink, Alster took his leave and slipped through the door.
Several hours later, Teselin received another visitor. No one special, but his fanfare of an entrance demonstrated otherwise.
“Hey there, scamp. I’ve come bearing gifts!” But Hadwin barely finished his triumphant declaration when he caught sight of her made-up face: lipstick, eye pigments—the whole package. “Well lookie you, all gussied up! That’s a Nia job if I ever saw one. Tell me,” he waggled his eyebrows, and a teasing grin split his mouth, “is this all because you wanna look good for your date?”
Before she could splutter a protest or prevent a blush from deepening the color of the rouge already powdered onto her cheeks, Hadwin guffawed and gave her good arm a playful smack. “Just messing with you, kid. But I’d say Nia did a bang-up job, because you’re still you, but on fire. Well then, pah,” he frowned as if tasting something sour. “Now my gift spits in the face of all that effort…even though it’s coming from the same source.”
From behind his back, he revealed a tiny black case and handed it over to Teselin. “Courtesy of Nia. Via Nico. It’s close to an hour before the ceremony starts, but Fancypants and fam are already here, so I picked up this package your pal ‘accidentally’ dropped in the hallway. Real smooth exchange. If the whole nobility thing doesn’t end up working out, that kid’s got a promising future as a smuggler.” He pointed to the bag, “He wants you to have this. It sort of works like an invisibility cloak, except it’s not true invisibility. To my understanding, you kind of end up blending in with the walls. And your surroundings. Folks can still spot you if they look hard enough, but everyone’s gonna be piss drunk and dancing, so I think you’re solid. Just try not to lose it. By nature of what it can do, it’s pretty damn easy to lose.”
“Now here’s how this is gonna work,” he hooked an arm around her shoulders, voice lowering to a secretive volume. His ‘scheming’ voice, others would call it. “You’re gonna enter the ballroom with me. Well, not quite with me, but I’ll be walking alongside you as your additional cover, making sure no one else spots something off as you’re slinking against the walls with your cloak. Once we’re inside, we’ll line up with all the other premium guests. Y’know, the ones who get a front-row spot cuz we’re all such great friends with the bride and groom. Nico won’t be among ‘em, but Ari will, so we gotta keep a wide berth. Nia’ll distract him, I’m sure, if he starts looking my way for too long. So we’ll kick back, enjoy the ceremony, and after the attendants roll out my fucking delicious cake, which you’re eating by the way,” he arched an eyebrow at Teselin, daring her to deny his decadent confection, “everyone’s gonna disperse into the crowd, and that’s when the actual ball begins. I’ll lead you to Nico, Nia will try and distract Ari’s golem bodyguard who’ll probably be watching him like a hawk, and the rest is up to you two young’uns. And if things ever get dicey, I’m not gonna be far. Far enough not to eavesdrop on your conversations, of course,” he winked. “I’ve got more integrity than that. Now if this ‘plan’s’ all copacetic with you,” he slid off the bed and ambled over to the wardrobe, “let’s get all dressed up for this thing and head out.”
Despite being given specific instructions to arrive at the ballroom by the seventh bell, Alster was tempted to arrive sooner in a show of defiance.
But he didn’t. Set-up or not, it seemed well-intentioned, and if so, he’d respect everyone’s hard work and play along.
“I don’t understand what would be so important to merit throwing a celebration within a celebration. And for us.” Alster paced about the room in front of Elespeth, his hands dancing about the air, wanting to run them through his hair but refraining, lest he negate all the work he dedicated to styling it. “No, it can’t possibly be for us specifically. Maybe Haraldur and Vega are going through the same thing, too. We haven’t seen them all day. It’s possible!” Lifting a handkerchief, he mopped the dewdrops of perspiration forming on his brow. “Heavens, this outfit is stifling. I don’t know how Ari stands it every day. This is more suited for a wedding than something you’d wear to a ball!”
Eyes widening with realization, he stopped pacing. Glanced again at Elespeth’s silvery-white dress, then to his hyper-formal ensemble. “You don’t think…?”
Again, the clock tower bell interrupted his train of thought, but this time, it was welcomed. “We…have to go,” he choked, his voice small. He presented his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”
He walked to the ballroom as one would walk to the gallows; stiff, leaden-legged, and resigned. Each step echoed, reverberated in his ears like death knolls, eliciting flinch after flinch as they traversed down the corridor that didn’t seem to have an end. Finally, they reached the doors, and opened the doors…
To the sight of a flower-strewn aisle and people arranged on either side of it, faces unfamiliar to him but for the gathering arranged at the far end. Further down, he recognized Haraldur and Vega, Isidor, Ari and Nia, Chara, Hadwin, Briery, Sigrid, Bronwyn, Elias and Daphni…and he knew Teselin to be among them, as well. Hidden, but in attendance. And, standing at the center, dressed in ceremonial robes, was Queen Lilica, presiding.
Alster felt the color drain from his face.
This was…this was really happening!
“I…can’t move,” he whispered to Elespeth, his breaths too shallow, too hurried. All eyes were on them. “I don’t think I…I don’t think I can do this.”
One set of clapping hands broke through the funereal silence. Alster snapped his attention to the source. Hadwin. Of course the faoladh would try to incite something. But it worked. Following his one-man applause, Chara took his example, then others joined in. Soon, everyone was clapping, an encouraging, supportive, unanimous rhythm that somehow dislodged Alster from his rooted position by the doors and sent him stepping forward alongside Elespeth.
And though it was far too early to start, his eyes blurred with the fog of developing tears.
