“It isn’t like we don’t make decisions that upset others,” Sella retorted. “There’s a lady that still holds a grudge against my father because he courted my mother instead of her. It’s weird that humans would do something so… so different, though.”
“Do what different?” Korima asked, settling into the chair on the other side of Tadrick, but peering over at Sella curiously. “Sorry about the delay; people really wanted to hear what I’d been doing here.”
“Not a problem, Korima,” Tadrick assured her, smiling. “We just got distracted by talking about human lifespans and things like that. It’s odd, how it changes things. I find it interesting that kitsune tend to grow up faster than elves, but live so much longer than most other species.”
“Eh, we’re not that… well, maybe we are unusual,” Korima conceded, frowning. “I don’t like talking about it, but I don’t think that we live that much longer. The Changing isn’t much different than death, in my opinion.”
Ruethwyn didn’t say anything for a moment. The Changing, as kitsune called it, came over their kind about the point they reached two and a half centuries. They went through a spiritual change which often resulted in death or transformation into a spirit fox, which was a sort of ancestral spirit among kitsune. There was another result, but it was rare that a kitsune came back as what they referred to as Elders.
“Regardless, at least such is far off for you,” Ruethwyn finally spoke, her voice soft, then she nodded at the stage. “Incidentally, we’ve been so focused on everything else that something just occurred to me.”
“Oh? What’s that?” Korima asked.
“What is the performance about?” Ruethwyn asked, smiling wryly. “I sincerely hope it’s without dragons.”
“Oh! That’s… oh, don’t worry about that at all, Rue!” Korima replied, the kitsune giggling as she sat forward. “No, this performance will start with a rendition of the legends of the first kitsune, who’re said to have once been human, along with the rise of the Sable Lady. The remainder is going to be a play about the first of the Lightweaver clan coming to Selwyn and their troubles before they were accepted and allowed to settle down in our home. No dragons involved, promise.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Ruethwyn said, sitting back in relief.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Rue dropping an ice pillar around your mother,” Sella said, smiling broadly.
“I wouldn’t put it around her mother. We’re far enough from the stage that I’d be more likely to put a wall in front of the seats to give us time to run,” Ruethwyn replied, her smile feeling just a bit forced.
“What’s this about an ice pillar?” The kitsune in front of them asked, an older man with a distinguished-looking beard turning to face them.
“Oh, it’s just that Rue had a poor reaction to a summoning a couple of weeks ago…” Tadrick began, and Ruethwyn sat back in her chair with a sigh, trying to tune him out. Hopefully the performance would start soon.
Chapter 30
The clamor of conversation throughout the theater quieted slightly as the lights dimmed. The sun had set enough that the glow-globes were the primary source of light in the theater, and only those shining on the stage were at full strength, save for the handful of small ones in the orchestra pit, but those were mostly masked by carefully placed barriers.
Korima’s discussion with her neighbor, a relatively young woman just a few years older than her, came to an end. Sella and Tadrick ended their conversation as well, as everyone began paying attention to the stage. Ruethwyn wasn’t certain what to expect, so she waited patiently with everyone else.
A moment later, a tall elven man in an exquisite green suit walked out onto the stage, his black hair combed back neatly and his stride perfectly paced. He reached the center of the stage and turned to face the audience, smiling broadly as he nodded politely, scanning over the seats.
“Welcome to the Evergreen Theater, one and all!” the man said, his baritone echoing clearly through the theater with the assistance of magic. “Tonight, we have the pleasure of hosting the famous Starlight Troupe once again, something which is one of our greatest pleasures each year. Please, give the performers a round of applause, for they traveled far to reach us.”
The audience clapped at his request, though Ruethwyn hesitated for a moment before she began trying to clap against her leg. It didn’t do much, so she abandoned her attempt after a few moments. The applause lasted about half a minute before the man raised his hands to call for quiet. Once the cacophony died, he spoke again.
“Thank you, all of you!” the man said, his smile broad and warm. “Now, without further ado I’d like to invite you to enjoy the Starlight Troupe’s performance of Dawn of the Lightweavers.”
Another applause erupted as the man bowed and quickly exited the stage. The lights dimmed even more as the orchestra began to play, beginning with a fanciful tune by a violin and flute, their notes intertwining as the curtains were drawn open.
Ruethwyn sat forward slightly, her eye narrowing as she tried to make out what the scenery was. The shadows were almost like those of a village, but she wasn’t quite—
She wasn’t certain who gasped as the music suddenly grew loud and violent. Light blazed into being, and a human woman with dark hair ran out from behind a building, garbed in the simple outfit of a villager. Ruethwyn found herself drawn to the backdrop, though, for instead of merely being the wooden outlines of a village, it was a full village by the ocean, with no sign of the rear of the stage. The realism of the illusion was startling, as Ruethwyn almost thought she could smell the scent of salt water in the distance, and hear the waves crashing on the shores. Her fascination snapped away as the woman glanced behind her momentarily and continued running as a group of other villagers bearing pitchforks and other farm implements came chasing after her.
The group chased the woman back and forth across the stage, none of them attempting to speak. A moment later, Sella murmured, “Is this a play without words, Korima?”
“Just the first part. Shh, though. I like the music,” Korima hissed back.
The group darted among buildings one after another, with the woman finally entering a house and barring the door, which they could see due to a conveniently placed window. The mob chasing her reached the door and tried to force it, gesticulating wildly, and their shouts almost sounding like arguing before one ran off and came back with an armful of hay and a torch. Ruethwyn blanched as they set the hay down by the building’s door, then relaxed as she saw that the torch’s fire was another illusion, this one more obvious than the others had been. While they worked, the woman was pacing around nervously, biting at her fingernails.
As the villagers began building their ‘fire’ by the door, the woman glanced out the window, then carefully slipped out of it and fled off the edge of the stage again. Unfortunately, one of the mob spotted her and quickly raised the alarm, and they gave chase after her.
A fog enveloped the stage, and the sound of wheels on wood was barely audible as the music turned from frantic to slightly more ethereal and mournful. When the fog partially cleared, a forest had taken the village’s place. The woman ran into the forest, looking around frantically as the mob closed on her. That was when a fox with pure white fur sidled out of the trees and looked at the woman. She looked at it in confusion, and it turned away, then looked back at her. A moment later, the fox bounded away, with the woman following it.
The mob attempted to give chase, but soon they slowed down, growing discouraged and looking as though they were lost. They argued amongst themselves, and eventually, as a wolf howled in the distance, first a few of them shook their heads and left, then more and more, until all of them had given up.
Meanwhile the fox led the woman through the forest until she reached a small cottage that was overgrown with vines, the music growing calmer and more sedate. She looked at the cottage in surprise, then looked at the fox more closely. As she did so, the fox shimmered and blurred, then grew rap
idly until it was as tall at the shoulder as the woman was tall, and nine shimmering tails lashed behind it. She jumped, but the fox sat down and looked at her. It nuzzled her as she hesitantly reached out to pet it, then she went into the cottage with the fox just behind her.
There was a shimmer of light, like that of the sun passing over the cottage, then the woman appeared again, this time wearing a dark dress and a fur cloak. As she explored the forest with the fox by her side, the music grew more foreboding, and a mob chased a group of humans in ragged clothing into the forest. Ruethwyn winced as they caught one stray person, and they pretended to attack the unfortunate individual before continuing the chase. The fox perked up its ears, looking at the woman, who gestured for it to go on as it bounded off, with her in close pursuit.
The mob caught up with the fleeing people, some of whom were praying and others who’d taken up sticks and branches. The mob looked far more confident than their opponents, and at that moment, the woman and the fox appeared, shocking everyone. As people froze, the woman looked back and forth between the groups, frowning. Then she looked at those who’d been fleeing and offered a hand. They hesitated, but after a moment they nodded, moving behind her. The mob made threatening noises, moving a little closer, with their weapons brandished.
Turning to face them, the woman scowled and shook her hand as if berating them, and the mob began to back off slightly. Some of them seemed to be on the verge of running, but as the woman turned away to speak to those behind her, one with a pitchfork rushed forward and stabbed at her. The fox jumped in the way and fell down as people gasped, and the woman spun back, her hand emitting a flash of magic that threw the man back. Then she crouched by the fox, looking stunned and horrified. The music turned tragic, then slowly more ethereal and hopeful.
While others shifted nervously, the mob backing off still more, the fox licked the woman’s face and dissolved into motes of light that surrounded her. They began to flow into her, and she stood, shivering as her body began to glow… and with a flash, the woman transformed. She grew a pair of fox ears as dark as her hair, and a tail as well, her entire being glowing with light. Turning on the mob, she scowled at them, beginning to float through the air, and the mob panicked, rushing away.
Once the men were gone, the woman turned to those she’d protected and smiled at them. They looked at her in astonishment, then slowly, one by one, fell to their knees. As they did so, she reached out and brushed her hand over the head of one… and one by one the people turned into kitsune as well.
The music grew even more hopeful as the woman slowly began floating upward, until finally she vanished and the people slowly rose to their feet, looking up in awe. Then the curtains swung closed again, and the music came to an end.
Ruethwyn blinked, then glanced over at Sella, murmuring, “That was an impressive use of magic.”
“The music was excellent, too!” Sella said, her eyes shining. “Still… that wasn’t terribly long, Korima, and I didn’t see your mother.”
“It was just the introduction, Sella,” Korima replied, grinning. “As for mother, I believe she’s playing the role of Nethir the Sorceress.”
Ruethwyn blinked in surprise, because she had heard of Nethir. A legendary sorceress from over nine hundred years before, the woman had helped turn the tides of a war against an army of invading goblins from the east with her mastery of illusion magic. The thought that Korima’s mother was playing her was intriguing.
“Really? Well, that sounds promising,” Ruethwyn said, smiling in return. “How long until they get started, do you think?”
“About, oh… now. So shh!” Korima replied, even as the curtains opened again.
Essryl mentally sighed as she shadow-walked into the dormitory, resisting the urge to click her tongue. The wards hadn’t improved since the last time she’d infiltrated Tyrness Academy, but the people in charge also hadn’t had reason to change them, so she shouldn’t expect them to have improved. Most of the wards to protect the grounds were focused on things like ghosts or fey, whose planes were far closer-aligned with the mortal world than the shadow plane was. Even if it wasn’t quite as accessible, Essryl didn’t approve of neglecting the possibility. It was one of those things that could easily lead to the deaths of the inhabitants, which she found concerning. Her trainees were much better protected on the whole.
Stepping back out of the shadow plane, Essryl blinked and tensed at the slight resistance that slowed her down, looking around Ruethwyn’s empty room for a moment before relaxing and nodding, murmuring softly to herself. “Ah, it appears that the little elf has been trying to ward her own room, at least. Not quite right, but she’s on the right track. A pity her teachers aren’t the same… hmm?”
Looking around the room, Essryl frowned and inhaled, half-closing her eyes as she focused on her enhanced sense of smell. Not all Illisyr could properly make use of a sensitive nose, but she’d learned it was too useful to neglect. Most potent of the scents was that of Ruethwyn, the young woman smelling so much like any other elf, yet simultaneously so familiar to Essryl. Beneath that were the scents of another elf and a kitsune, both which must have visited somewhat frequently, but they weren’t as potent as a third elven woman’s scent.
That scent was quite recent, and it was accompanied by another smell, and Essryl’s eyes opened as she spoke softly. “Water of the traceless. Someone came in here who didn’t want to leave a magical trail, did they? Well, they should’ve covered their scent as well, but I have to wonder… what were they doing in Ruethwyn’s room?”
Glancing around the room, Essryl followed the scent over to Ruethwyn’s desk and frowned, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she saw the papers scattered across the surface. The young woman was obviously not quite as careful with her security as Essryl had hoped, based on her wards. Essryl looked at the notes on magical theory and frowned, shaking her head again.
“Oh, you silly girl… letting others spy on you isn’t the best way to live. However, as I don’t wish to spoil any surprises for myself, I suppose I should leave these alone. Hopefully your fellow students don’t have anything too untoward planned,” Essryl said, suppressing the temptation to leave a note for Ruethwyn. As much as she wanted to give the girl advice, she was under orders to keep this visit quiet, and leaving a note would be going against that. Besides, adversity built strength or killed the weak.
Instead, Essryl considered what she’d been told about the other girl, Lissa. She was supposed to be a floor higher in the building, but on the opposite side of the hall from where Ruethwyn’s room was. The proximity of a room that she knew reasonably well helped to shadow-walk more accurately, so Essryl turned and focused on where she wanted to go, then stepped across again, tweaking her magic to ignore the resistance of Ruethwyn’s wards this time.
It was easy to do, but on the other side Essryl found herself confronted by an eight-foot tall abomination of shadow that looked like a cross between a hound, alligator, and a ghoul. The spindly, scaled, fanged monster lunged at Essryl with a hissing shriek, its maw opening wider than should have been possible as it tried to consume her with a single gulp.
Essryl didn’t blink, instead flooding the spells she kept constantly active with mana so they reached full strength instantly. She could feel her limbs grow stronger and her speed multiply, so it was barely a challenge to sidestep the monster’s attack as she smirked. “Ah, I see that fear of me has faded in recent days? I suppose you’ll make a decent example.”
The monster’s maw snapped shut and it began to swipe at her with its claws as it recovered, but it was just too slow. Essryl drew her daggers casually, dodging back just far enough for it to miss her, and then she lunged into it.
It really couldn’t be called a fight, in Essryl’s opinion. The monster was reasonably fast and tough, but it would’ve only been a modest opponent for Captain Whisperblade, let alone her. In a handful of seconds, it was dripping shadowy ichor from a dozen wounds, burbling in pain before she found the
creature’s brain and put it out of its misery. The creature slumped to the ground and Essryl sniffed, flicking the ichor from her daggers and allowing her spells to weaken again.
“Not even a challenge. Ah, well… I’m not here for a challenge. Hopefully this will at least warn off the weaklings for a while,” the Illisyr murmured, and stalked across the landscape for a few steps, then returned to the mortal world, the brief bit of excitement already forgotten.
The room she appeared in was better-lit than Ruethwyn’s had been, with the light globes shining brightly, and the whitewashed walls far more welcoming than the plain wood of the other student’s. The bed was larger, and there were more furnishings, making the room comfortable enough that Essryl imagined few who saw it would consider the other room more than barely tolerable.
Sitting in a chair by the desk was a young elven woman, and her simple clothing and brown hair made Essryl all but certain that it was Lissa. The young woman was reading a book and softly sounding out the words of a spell under her breath as she pored over it, not having noticed Essryl’s entrance.
Essryl considered a moment, then slowly, silently walked up behind the young woman. She got right up next to her, a smile playing across her lips… and then asked pleasantly, “Lissa Nerrine, I presume?”
“Eek!” The woman yelped, almost knocking the book off the desk as she spun around and began. “Who—”
Essryl murmured a word, flicking her fingers through a spell to dampen the sound and catching the chair before it could fall. Lissa’s eyes went wide as she caught sight of Essryl, going silent as she froze in place.
“Now, now… it was a simple question, young lady. I’d hate to have to react badly, with as much time as it took for me to get here,” Essryl replied, smiling at her, then warned. “Oh, and please… don’t try anything rash. I’d prefer to leave you unharmed, but that wasn’t among the requests I was given.”
The Avatar's Flames (Through the Fire Book 1) Page 23
