Midnight's Blossom

by Corinn Heathers

  Rose’s expression darkened with righteous indignation. “Too young?! That's ridiculous. I'm taking you home with me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, assuming a mock-stern posture and expression. “Solaria is clearly a place where people don't even know the definition of fun.”

  My smile faltered. “I can't really argue.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Rose looked away self-consciously. “I'm sorry.”

  I turned and gestured to the left at the intersection, peering at the map displayed on my multicom. “The swordsmith should be right around here. I'm not sure if it's this building or the next one—”

  “Maybe look up instead of at your multicom,” Rose muttered dryly.

  “Huh?” I shoved the device into my pocket and followed her gesture. Hanging above us, about two meters over our heads, was a sign decorated with a pair of crossed swords over an anvil. “Oh. I guess we're here, then.”

  Rose laughed and tugged on the door, making an exaggerated gallant gesture toward the open entryway. “After you, Lady Alcyone.”

  I made a face. “I'm about as much of a proper 'lady' as you are.”

  “Still better than 'flower girl,'” Rose shot back.

  “I thought it was cute!”

  “Of course you did.”

  A snort of derision escaped my lips. “Come on. You were the one who insisted we do this, so get in here and help me pick out a blade.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  The interior of the swordsmith's shop was much cleaner than I'd anticipated. I wasn't entirely sure what I expected, but the storefront itself appeared to be more of a showroom than a workshop. Perhaps the actual forging of the weapons happened elsewhere, which would make sense, I suppose, as this particular block was close to one of the wealthier neighborhoods in Naara. I could easily imagine those stuffy highborn lords and ladies complaining about the smoke of a forge watering their eyes.

  There was only one person behind the counter, and it wasn't the owner. It was an awkward-looking boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, a bit younger than the two of us. His forehead was bare, and I could not sense any magic from him. A more careful examination suggested he was either the swordsmith's apprentice or his son, or both.

  “Can I help you find something, miss?”

  Rose stepped up to the counter. “We're looking for something small and light, suitable for her small frame.”

  The boy glanced at me, then back to his wares, then back to me again. This time, he stared at me in slack-jawed astonishment, but only for a moment. He recovered quickly, and the muscles in his jaw bunched up. The boy's attempt at a neutral expression was unfortunately unsuccessful, and I could see the fear and distrust in his eyes.

  “He figured it out,” Rose muttered dryly.

  I didn't flinch under the apprentice's glare. “Most people do.”

  A sigh from Rose was followed by a heavy thunk as she dropped a bulging pouch, filled to near bursting with Imperial currency, on the counter. “We're just here to make a purchase, nothing more. We don't want any trouble.”

  The boy's dour look melted away into something more shrewd. “Fine, but don't think I won't tell IPSB that you were here if they come asking me.”

  “It's not illegal to buy a sword,” I growled.

  “As long as you've got the coin and you ain’t with Antilight, I can't turn you away,” the boy agreed, scratching the scraggly patch of beard he was attempting to grow. “Don't think you'll be able to find anything small enough here, though. Check the foreign blades in the case across the shop. Let me know if you want to take a look at any of them.”

  Rose arched a white eyebrow. “What the hell is an Antilight?”

  “Bunch of terrorists,” the boy spat, long before I could even think to formulate a more nuanced answer to her question. “Murderers and traitors to the Empire, all of them. If you don't know what they are, you must be a foreigner.”

  “I'm from Fialla,” Rose replied.

  “Yeah, I figured as much, seeing how you've got skin browner than dirt.”

  Rose's eyes flashed with anger at the insult, but she said nothing and whirled around, grabbing me by the wrist and half-dragging me to the display case. I had never seen her this angry before, and it worried me. This was the sort of treatment we would both receive in the Empire every time we left the Academy grounds.

  Not that the other students or even the masters were any less xenophobic and nationalistic, but the strict rules of the Academy prevented them from displaying it overtly. What influence Juno Alcyone still possessed was just barely enough to secure my appointment, but it wouldn't stop my peers and teachers from thinking what they would.

  The foreign blade case was dusty enough that it was hard to see inside. I tried to peer through the grime. Rose pulled a cloth from her satchel and wiped away the obstruction, giving me a better look at the weapons on display.

  “Those are Fiallan,” Rose observed, pointing toward the largest three swords. “They're nicely crafted, but too big and heavy for you.”

  “Everything is bigger in Fialla, apparently,” I quipped.

  Rose grinned. “It's the truth.”

  I continued to look over the weapons in the case. There were ten swords in all, most of which I recognized. Four were of kanari manufacture, likely taken from slain bladeguards. Kanari weapons were intriguing but impractical, their presence here suggesting that the owner of the shop was a collector. The thin, straight blades were incredibly sharp and deadly, capable of cleaving right through magical armor, but were easily broken. Bladeguards were typically outfitted with wide scabbards containing a half-dozen replacement blades that could be exchanged quickly in the heat of battle.

  Two were the gently curved slashing sabers from the Crimson Isles, a loose confederation of seafaring merchants and mercenaries who Solaria considered little more than pirates. They were smaller than Solarian weapons, intended for one-handed use on the rolling decks of ships on the high seas.

  The final sword in the case, however, I didn't recognize at all, but my eyes fell upon it and I found I could not look away. It was the smallest and lightest sword in the display case, much more suited to a frame like mine than any Solarian sword. I placed my hand on the smudged glass in front of it and recoiled in sudden shock. As if I'd flipped a switch, warmth and life radiated from the slender, pattern-welded blade. This sword held magic, and strong magic at that! The weapon's power woke at my approach, and I could feel it calling to me, resonating with the very firmament of my soul.

  “I want to look at this one,” I announced.

  “Don't recommend touching that one,” the boy said, scratching his stubble and gazing at me warily. “It's got magic in it, and anyone who touches it directly gets a pretty nasty shock. I told my father he ought to hand it over to the Academy, but he won't hear of it. Said someone will eventually come along and buy it, a collector or something, but the blasted masters wouldn't give him a bent copper.”

  “I still want to look at it.”

  “All right, but don't say I didn't warn you.” The apprentice disappeared behind the display case and unlocked it with a small passward attached to his apron. I watched as he donned a heavy leather glove, stitched through with silver thread, and took the violet sword by the hilt. An indignant pulse of magic surged through the blade at his touch, but the glove appeared to have some sort of anti-magic warding placed upon it.

  The boy set it down on the counter, along with another glove identical to the one he wore. “You might want to put this—”

  I wrapped my bare fingers around the hilt and nearly gasped aloud. The power imbued in the weapon rushed forth, mingling with my own magic, forming an instantaneous bond. In my hand, the sword felt as if it were a physical part of me, an extension of my own body. I could feel something from the sword's imbued magic, some sort of oddly-familiar sense of belonging. Taking a step back, I made a few experimental swings with the blade and found that it had flawless balance and weight.

  “I want this
sword,” I said.

  The apprentice's jaw had nearly dropped to the floor. “W-what… how can you—”

  “Don't worry about that,” Rose interrupted, opening her sack of coins. “How much do you want for it?”

  “Uh, since it seems that she's the only one who can hold the damn thing without losing a hand, consider it yours for six hundred.”

  Rose didn't say a word but instead counted out six platinum Solarian crowns, setting them on the counter in a neat stack. The boy's eyes lit up, but I was too busy marveling at how well my new sword had integrated with my magic. It was as if it had been forged for me and me alone.

  “Does it come with a scabbard?” Rose asked.

  “We never had one to go with it, but if you want to wait a bit we can make one—”

  “It's not necessary,” I said in a soft, dreamlike tone. Without knowing how I knew I could, I held the blade out and sent an entreaty to the magic within. In a flash of crackling purple light, the sword vanished as if it had never been.

  The poor apprentice smith's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. “What in the Yawning Hells was that?! Where'd the sword go?” A shadow fell over his face. “You already paid, you're not getting a refund since it was in your hands when it disappeared!”

  “It's not gone, but stored within an extra-dimensional space,” I explained. “That's why it never had a scabbard. It doesn't need one.”

  “I guess that's it for us, then. Thank you for your assistance, sir.” Rose gave the apprentice one final scathing glare, completely at odds with the sincere tone of her voice. She tugged at my wrist with enough strength to drag me to the door. “Come on, Lily. Let's go.”

  Chapter 8

  Invitation to Darkness

  “I wasn't expecting that to happen.”

  I turned to face Rose and nodded. “Neither was I. I can't believe we found something like this, just collecting dust in a swordsmith's 'foreign junk' case.”

  “The sword, it's—”

  “It's of miinari make, yes,” I told her. “The magic in it recognized me when I came close. As soon as I picked it up, it bound itself to my magic. I'm still trying to feel out the extent of its power, but this sword is far from an ordinary weapon.”

  Rose frowned. “I gathered that much. What do you think it is, then?”

  “I don't know. I’m not sure if I'm strong enough to use it properly, much less puzzle out its history.” I sighed and nestled in closer to Rose. The two of us sat upon a bench overlooking the bay. The park was empty at this hour, for it was still only a bit after noon, and the Naaran workday started early and ended late. “I need to… I need to study it, to attune with its magic.”

  “So do it, then.”

  “I can't. At least, not at the Academy,” I pointed out. “The masters would confiscate it the moment they realized I had it.”

  “Wouldn't it just zap them like it did all the fancy rich guys who wanted to put it on display?”

  “Well, yes, but the masters would probably be able to suppress the defensive magic and dispel the binding between me and the sword. I can't risk taking it out of its pocket dimension when we're at the Academy. They'll sense the magic right away. It'll… stand out. A lot.”

  “Why's that?”

  I avoided Rose's gaze. “It’s filled to the brim with dark mana.”

  “Isn't that—”

  “Yes. Highly illegal in Solaria. I'm surprised they never realized what they had, but I guess it knows how to protect itself.” I stopped for a moment and looked at Rose with a curious gaze. “You seem a lot more casual about this than I would have thought.”

  “I don't know anything about miinari magic, but I get the feeling that sword can take care of itself. It's like…” She trailed off and shrugged, not entirely sure how to express what she had felt when the blade's power woke.

  “Like it has a will of its own,” I finished. “It's been subtly adjusting itself to fit me, ever since I laid my hand upon the hilt. Ordinary enchanted weapons don’t do that.”

  Rose looked worried. She took my hand in hers and curled her fingers around mine. “I'll be with you, no matter what happens. Even if it gets dangerous.”

  “I… I don't know what to say.”

  “Will the masters be able to detect it?”

  I looked away. “I don't know. I don't think so.”

  “Maybe you should get rid of it, then.”

  “No!” I blurted without thinking. “I could never!”

  Rose blinked, taken aback by my sudden, vehement denial.

  “I'm—I'm sorry, Rose,” I murmured, my tone becoming thick and childish. “As long as I keep it sealed, nothing should change, at least outwardly.” I tried to make my voice and expression seem as confident as I could, even if I was not. “When the term lets out, and I return to House Alcyone, I'll… ask Mother about it. She has to know something, or at the very least, knows someone who does.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll let it drop for now, then.” Rose let her arm drape over my shoulder and she pulled me close. “You're really something else, you know that?”

  “Um, thank you.”

  Her free hand grasped my chin and turned my face toward hers. I closed my eyes and felt her lips brush against mine with incredible tenderness. That delicious sensation of weakness filled me up from inside and I leaned into her, leaned into the kiss. After far too short a while, I drew away. Our faces were still less than a centimeter apart, and I looked into Rose's dark eyes. They were alight with passion and desire, sending a shiver of anticipation through my body.

  “I know… I know Fiallans are more, um, casual about these sorts of things than I'm accustomed to,” I began, trying to choose my words carefully despite the mushy mess Rose's kiss made of my brain. “I want to know if… if…”

  “If I'm serious about this?” Rose inquired. “About the two of us?”

  I nodded.

  “I wanted to make a clever joke, but I can't.” Rose's fingers brushed red curls from my forehead, and she leaned close to kiss it. “I like you, Lily. I like you a lot. You were the only one who genuinely wanted to be my friend at the Academy. The only one who didn't, who would never, look down on me as a foreigner, as a Fiallan whose skin is 'browner than dirt.'”

  “I like you a lot, too, Rose.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” she whispered with a small smile.

  “Is that how you see me, though? As a… just a friend?”

  Rose leaned closer to my ear, speaking so softly I could barely hear her. “A friend, a partner in crime, and more. Much, much more.”

  Her breath tickled my ear. Gods, she was so warm.

  “I love you, Rose,” I blurted, without thinking. “I've… I was drawn to you since the day we met. I knew there was something special about you, something amazing. I know it's only been a few months but I can't ignore—”

  Warm fingertips touched my lips. “You don't need to explain yourself to me. I understand how serious this is to you.” I felt a soft, velvety heat envelop the lobe of my ear and I let out a low, hungry moan as she spoke. “I love you, too, Lily.”

  “I want you.” I whispered. “Now.”

  “Right now? Here, in the park?” Despite the incredulity in her tone, Rose sounded more intrigued than scandalized.

  “It's… secluded enough. People on the path wouldn't be able to see us.” My voice was becoming husky and breaking slightly on the hard consonants. “N-nobody will bother us, I'm sure of it. We can be… discreet.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Rose leaned forward to kiss me again, but a sudden, shrill scream jolted us both into alertness. It sounded as if someone was in pain or in danger, and close.

  “What in the Yawning Hells?” Rose swore.

  “I don't know, but it sounds like someone's hurt or something.” I stood up, trying to subsume the sharp feeling of disappointment. The screams drifted through the air again, and I strained to hear which direction the terrified cries were comin
g from. “It sounds like it's coming from the street near the park's entrance!”

  “Let's go check it out.”

  I nodded, and the two of us broke into a run. Rose slowed her pace somewhat to match my shorter strides, but we quickly covered the distance between the location of our aborted tryst and the park gate.

  “Rose, look out!”

  A shimmering crimson barrier blazed into existence, just the barest fraction of a second before a furious explosion ripped through the air around us. Flames and heat expanded outward, riding a shockwave that flattened the greenery around us, but wrapped around Rose's magical shield, leaving the two of us unharmed.

  Small fires had already started in the brush around our feet. I stepped back, away from the shield, prompting a concerned look from Rose. Water magic came sluggishly to my fingertips and I directed it at the ground, forming it into a thin, spreading aura of frost. Half-burned plants went white as the heat was stolen from the unfortunate bushes and grasses.

  “I think we've got more to worry about than a brush fire,” Rose said.

  I looked up at the street and was astonished to see a pair of men, dressed in the same jumpsuits as the dockworkers from earlier, standing over a richly-dressed woman. The woman was alive and still conscious, but blood and burned flesh marred her exposed right arm. Her jacket's sleeve had been incinerated during her unsuccessful attempt to parry the magical attack.

  “Get away from her!” Rose shouted at the men.

  “This doesn't concern you,” one of them sneered.

  I was stunned that they would attack a highborn Solarian lady in broad daylight, but my shock only lasted an instant before I realized why they would be so bold. The space around us felt distorted in an odd way, and I noticed the street beyond the site of the explosion was completely devoid of people. Somehow we'd been displaced away from normal space, shifted just enough outside of our reality to preclude outside interference.

  “We cannot leave witnesses,” the other man said to his companion.