“So your people are space farer's then, by both scientific and magical means?”
“Well; only to a point. You see, no one understands why, but it appears impossible…” I can no longer ignore what is happening in the rest of the feast hall – an amazingly intricate juggling event involving over a dozen of the individuals in the upper tiers. Most seem to be tossing items primarily toward the annoying Novanus. He seems to revel in the task of juggling with so many simultaneously. Finally, in laughter, he resorts to using sorcery to assist with his efforts, and instead of that ending the performance, dozens more join in, seemingly trying to overwhelm him while also rather aggressively challenging others in the room. Some of those recently entangled use technological means to deal with the onslaught; others rely on astounding skill. Just as it seems that not another flying object could possibly be added to the fray, all the items in flight streak toward a black sphere that appears in the middle of the room, near the ceiling.
The Emperor says, “That will be quite enough of that; I rather like the course that is about to be served, and do not wish to be needlessly distracted from it.”
Silence fills the room; muffling out all but a very subdued melody.
Alma’s voice breaks through the unnatural quiet. “I can’t help but ask, Shi'ahn, what’s with the music?”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, why do you constantly project music?”
“Oh, I’d forgotten, sorry. I’ve been surrounded by music since I was a child.”
William adds, “Yea, I barely remember her being without it, except when she’s trying to sneak or hide her feelings.”
Alma asks, “So it's automatic then – you aren’t consciously doing it?”
“No, not at all.”
Gwenllian adds, “And it is reflective of your mood, of your thoughts?”
“It does always seem appropriate, if that is what you mean. It’s a part of me.”
Gwenllian looks disapproving, “It isn’t a very good trait, especially here.”
“I’m sorry – is it considered rude?”
“I wouldn’t know – you are the only person I’ve known of to do such a thing.”
“That can’t be true, Cailli does so as well.” They all look blankly at me. “You know, Cailli – Grandmother?” Still no comprehension in their eyes, and William looks confused. “The ancient woman in the mountain.” William’s expression of confusion continues.
“She does? When did you hear that?”
“When she put her arms around us – in fact, every time she touched me. Didn’t you hear it?”
“Ah… no, Sis, I didn’t.” Gwenllian turns to William.
“Did you hear the… Guardian, refer of herself as Cailli, or Grandmother?”
William nods. “Oh yes, although I got the impression that only Shi'ahn was invited to call her either of those. She also mentioned that most refer to her as ‘the old hag’.” Nearly all within sight glance down momentarily, giving proof to her claim.
Celeste asks, “If you are the Guardian’s granddaughter, then that must mean Nebulaea has given birth to another child.”
“Cailli did mention that the title wasn’t entirely accurate, but that 'greats' do not roll off the tongue well at all.” I pause and smile at the memory, then explain, “She understands the importance of the sounds of words; that they should flow naturally from the tongue like water over rocks in a brook, creating a music all their own.”
William adds, “Yes, she even called you her little muse… A rather curious thing to say, I thought.”
Casanova rejoins our conversation, “Music seems very central to your character, Shi'ahn – would you mind gracing us with a song?” It seems as though suddenly every eye in the room is trained upon me; words flee my tongue as never before.
“I’m sure there are far better musicians in this hall, I wouldn’t want to bore anyone.”
“Of course there are, but we have heard each other before. Listening to you would be a new experience, and we do appreciate new experiences here.”
William smiles, saying quietly, “Come on, Sis, I’m sure the acoustics here are fascinating.”
I want to refuse, after all, what could I possibly do to impress these amazing people? Before I can speak, though, William blurts out, “Of course she will! I’ll even accompany her.” If I could shoot fire out of my eyes I would, but he ignores my ire and gestures toward the table, silently asking me to imbue it with the properties to do so. In resignation I wave my hand toward it, changing segments of it to act as both a xylophone and primitive drums. He smiles playfully, projects light upon my conjuration to validate what I have provided to him, picks up a pair of spoons and begins an old tune we have improvised to before. I decide to sing of our childhood… of our adventures and lives from both our perspectives.
I sing of leading William on adventures, of him introducing me to his magical creature friends, of the two of us riding our dragon friends, and of William's growing fascination with light.
Late in the song, William tosses a glass of water over my head. At its apex I raise my arms and spin ‘round, projecting my reach as though to run my hands through the airborne water, causing it to whisper my name ‘Shi…aahhnn’. William projects light upward and I use the now widely disbursed droplets to bend his light into images that we have described in our song. Standing on a large rock in the lake during a lightning storm, cliff diving over a waterfall, dragon riding over forests and into the cool waters, it's one of William's best light shows. I hope our display doesn’t look to simplistic for this audience… I wouldn’t have done so if William hadn’t forced it. I can’t help though, surrendering myself to the joy of the memories as they flash before our audience; I free my voice from the simple melody of our song and let it fly through the harmonies I can no longer ignore.
As the song dies down and I regain my self-control, I look up at our audience and see no smiles; my heart chills. Are we so unskilled as to give them no pleasure at all with our performance? I wish we could have heard some of their music before performing…
Casanova alone smiles warmly at me, then addresses Novanus, “You should be careful, Novanus, you may lose the title of best musician to this beautiful young lady!”
“In your dreams, womanizer.”
I quietly ask him, “Casanova, you seem to have liked our song, why does everyone else seem so displeased? Are our skills too primitive for this place?”
“Primitive? No! They just aren’t used to things they don’t understand.”
Alma asks, “How did you do that? I did not detect any sorcery or technology.”
“What have I done that is unusual?”
She looks at me as though I am either daft or deliberately being obtuse. “The table for one. How did you make it function as percussion instruments for William?”
“Oh that, it’s just a game we’ve played since we were children. It didn’t start out so elaborate, of course, at first I’d just tell him I’d hidden an invisible drum in the house – he would search for hours! Once he caught on to my preferred surfaces, I started giving him more interesting percussion instruments – it was a great way to get him out of my hair when I wanted some time alone.” William flashes a perfectly innocent smile.
Alma doesn’t give up, though. “I mean, exactly how do you do that? What means did you use to alter the tabletop?”
How to answer… I’ve never been able to get anyone on Shiral to comprehend my methods. I had assumed that the amazing individuals here would already understand… I try simplifying the concept for her. “Every object sings its own song, defined by the sum of all its parts and attributes. In changing the table’s song, I changed the way it vibrated when William struck it with his improvised mallets.” Alma glances down at the table with furrowed brows. I reassure her, “There’s no need for concern, I’ve returned it to its original state, there is no structural damage.”
“And just how did you ‘change its song’? I did not detect
a method.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, I just… will it, like always.” Sad frustration shows in my voice, which she notices.
“You’ve tried to explain this before, without success, haven’t you? Are there others on your Shiral with this ability?” I shake my head.
“Not since Mathair was taken away. I’ve searched everywhere, but no one else on Shiral hears the song.” The years of loneliness and longing consume my soul… I need to escape from all these painful questions! Casanova comes to my rescue.
“Well, this has been an interesting evening, but I suspect that our new family members could use some rest – they have just had a rather eventful day.
I glance up at the Emperor and see clear disapproval. I realize then, we had sung through the final course and apparently distracted him from his enjoyment of it. I try to project ‘I’m sorry’ through my eyes, but I see no acceptance in his gaze. Rats, we’ve only just arrived in what is apparently the most important and powerful place in all existence, and already I’ve managed to annoy its Emperor.
Casanova stands and offers me his arm. William also rises and leaves with us. Casanova speaks quietly after the doors close behind us.
“It is generally not a good idea to reveal a great deal of intimate detail about yourself in front of such a large and powerful audience. I should have tried to distract my sister from her questioning earlier – she can be… somewhat direct.”
William looks at him questioningly, “Whereas you?”
Casanova ignores the implication. “Whereas I know what it is like to be comparatively young and inexperienced here. Do you know the way to your rooms? This is a very large and at first confusing place, judging by how long it generally takes new servants to gain their bearings.”
“We’ll be fine.” William answers without even glancing at me.
Casanova continues to smile warmly, “Good.” He leans down and kisses my cheek! I involuntarily stiffen, but I also feel a strange heat spreading within me. He smiles, “Welcome to Lumina, Cousin.” With that he turns and walks away.
William mutters, “Kissing Cousin.” I try to slap his arm with the back of my hand, but he maneuvers so that I inadvertently take his arm instead. “Just teasing, Sis.” We only make it to the next intersecting hallway when we are joined by Lucian.
“I see you’re already making new friends…” He looks pointedly at my cheek, which warms as I remember the enticing feel of that small kiss. Lucian continues, “A word to the wise – Casanova is not nearly as young as he implies, and he has quite the appetite for young, inexperienced women.” Now my entire face feels warm.
“Am I… is it that…” He raises an eyebrow.
“Obvious? Yes. Logical?” His eyes once again scan my figure, this time lingering on my hips as we walk. “No.”
William chimes in. “The men of Shiral do not think of her as”
I interrupt. “William!”
“Their awe and respect for her overshadow all else.”
For some reason Lucian's expression turns serious. “Oh I see. In that case, I offer words of caution. The two of you appear to be somewhat unique. Casanova may not be the only one to attempt to… befriend you, as a means of learning more about you. Look, before you leap. Many here have had over a thousand years to practice their beguiling skills – you wouldn’t stand a chance. Don’t trust anyone. William, keep an eye on her.”
William smiles, “Ita vero.”
I can’t believe they are talking like this about me – here I may finally have a chance to be treated like a normal woman, and they’re discussing keeping me ‘safe’? I don’t want to be safe! I turn angrily toward Lucian, “Excuse me, but who are you to be messing in my personal affairs?” He doesn’t skip a beat.
“Until someone officially claims responsibility for you, by the will of the Emperor I’m to be your guardian.”
“My guardian? I’m 37, I don’t need a guardian!” He looks me over again.
“What is the age of consent on Shiral?” I glance down, not wanting to reveal just how long I have been… alone. He continues to stare at me and I find I must speak, although he doesn't necessarily need to understand.
“At the beginning of the third trinity of greater trinities.”
William elaborates, “In your terms, a bit over eighteen, depending upon one's date of birth in relation to Beltane.” I kick him. Lucian seems genuinely surprised and holds William's gaze.
“Keep a very close eye on her.” Then, glancing back at me, “You have aged well for one raised so far away from the source.”
Something clicks within William and he asks in excitement, “Does being near this 'source' strengthen one?”
Ignoring William, Lucian continues, “Ah, here we are, Shi'ahn. Casanova was right about one thing – this has indeed been an eventful day for you. Get some rest, and do not stray without escort – there are many dangers here; you must learn of them before you wander about.” He pats my arm kindly and I suddenly realize he is right – I actually have to stifle a yawn.
Chapter 4
Preparations and Formalities
My outer door opens, shocking me out of a deep sleep. I silently race out of my room and take up a defensive position, shield spell nearly cast. The intruder turns around and stops dead in her tracks, heart thundering in her chest. Voice quavering, she speaks,
“Good morning, Lady. I have brought you some breakfast.”
Ah, Joanna. Why didn't I recognize her sooner? After having only briefly looked at me, she quickly bends to her task. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you, Joanna. I’m just not used to…” Servants waiting on me like this. Anyone entering my home unannounced. Sleeping so deeply that my mind doesn't fully awake with my body. And… where did that behavior come from? I'm not like that.
She replies without looking up. “No need to apologize, my Lady.” My apology seems to surprise her, yet she still does not meet my gaze… do I look so terrible? I glance down and understand; I’m wearing an extremely low cut nightgown that… well, it might as well not be there. Why am I wearing such a thing? As soon as she leaves I hurriedly shower and dress in case anyone else should show up, then eat my breakfast. At least now I understand why I have no kitchen.
William soon knocks on my door, and waits for it to close before speaking.
“Well, that was an interesting dinner…”
“Interesting? It was horrible! We’ve only just arrived and they already hate us!”
“Hate is too strong a term, I think. Better to say that they don’t yet understand us.”
“Perhaps… Maybe I’m just being too sensitive. I had so hoped to make a good impression and feel… accepted. I want to be a part of a family so much.” He takes me up in his arms,
“Shh… it’s alright. We may be a little different, mysterious, but they will accept us into their family, I’m sure of it.”
“Why? What makes you so certain?”
“It’s… a feeling I have, deep down in my soul. This will all turn out well, trust me.”
I look deeply into his eyes, searching for… I don’t know what. He truly seems convinced, that I cannot deny. “I hope you're right.” I mentally shake my head, clearing it for more important thoughts. “William, I’m curious, were you overly tired after you reached your rooms last night?”
“Actually, yes… the last thing I remember I was starting to undress, and then I woke up nearly naked on the couch.”
“You did? I was at least in bed and dressed… sort of. I have no memory of undressing, though, and I would not have chosen the nightgown I woke up in, it was translucent!” At first he smiles wickedly, but it turns quickly to a frown.
“No, you would not have chosen such a thing… I can’t help but wonder who did.”
“Do you think they… did something to us?” He thinks for a moment.
“I suppose it makes sense. I mean, here we are, two children of this realm with no identifiable parents, no decent explanation for
why we were hidden for so long, and I suspect that we displayed abilities during the feast beyond what they had anticipated. If I were in their position, I’d do some serious medical testing on such subjects. I imagine by now they know exactly who our Lumina parent is, and they’ve probably also tried to locate Shiral.”
“But… that’s invasive and… disrespectful!”
“Come on, Shi'ahn, think of it this way. If someone showed up at home claiming to be our long lost sibling, wouldn’t you want to run some tests before accepting that person into our family?”
“Yes, I suppose so, but I would not rob such an individual of their dignity!”
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, Sis, but we aren’t on Shiral anymore. These people are very different from us, they are used to being… like gods. Does a god concern himself with the comfort and dignity of his subjects?”
“If she is a good god, yes! All life is sacred and should be treated with respect – you know that!”
His voice drops in volume and tone, “This place is different, Shi'ahn. We must adapt to their ways or perish.”
His words and the manner in which he delivers them give me pause. “I can see that this place has already begun to change you, little brother. You have become… surprisingly wise.”
“I’m not used to being the most powerful individual in existence. Even being number two brings about a very different perspective.”
“Alright, alright, perhaps I’m just being too sensitive.” I try to push all the feelings of helplessness and violation aside and concentrate on more important issues. There was something we intended to discuss after the feast… ah yes. “So, to business. I trust you observed everyone carefully during dinner last night?”
“Of course. Ready?”
~~~
I nod and we join hands, then minds, melding our memories and our thoughts. We relive the evening, but only pay attention to our own interactions as a means of keeping track of context. What interests us now is everyone else – all the things we did not consciously discern last night. It doesn’t take long to notice something strange – while everyone keeps busy with their own conversations and seemingly ignore us, they also surreptitiously observe our every word and action.
Between Darkness and Light Trilogy Page 4
