“This public house is one such interest?” Yukari inquired.
“That's right.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course she would recommend us a place her family's company owns.”
“Free food and drink is a pretty good incentive,” the waiter pointed out and sent the both of us a conspiratorial look. “We were given a personal request to make sure the two of you were well taken care of. But if you want to give me the money as a tip, I promise I won't tell her.”
Yukari favored the young man with a sly wink. “Worry not, for neither will we.”
“Appreciate it. It'll be about twenty minutes or so. I'll have your drinks out shortly.”
With that, he was gone, leaving the two of us in our somewhat secluded little niche. I felt Yukari's gaze upon me, which ordinarily would have made me self-conscious, if not for the fact that her mere presence was just so soothing.
“It's been so long,” she murmured. “I'd almost forgotten what the resonance was like.”
I gave her a querying look.
“You feel… calm around me, do you not? As if the strain of all that has happened was slowly drained away.”
“I do, I just thought it was—was because I, um—” I broke off my sputtering response, though I did feel as if my ever-present anxiety was greatly weakened. My cheeks warmed, but the sudden urge to avoid Yukari's gaze never came. “I just thought it was because…”
“You never knew your miinari parent,” Yukari stated. It was not a question. “That explains a great deal.”
“Yes! How did you know?”
She giggled softly. “You don't know what aetheric resonance is.”
The waiter returned before I could reply, bearing a pair of bulbous glasses filled to the very brim with the same pale pink, fizzy libation that Rose had introduced me to weeks ago. Without saying anything, he set the drinks before us and took his leave, apparently understanding perfectly our desire for privacy.
I lifted my glass and took a sip. It was exactly as I'd expected it to be, bright and tart with a medley of sweet and fruity flavors that covered up the taste of alcohol. The wines of Mother's homeland were harsher, stronger, much more astringent. I'd never had much of a desire to drink in the past, nor did I expect Fialla's famous reputation for rich and bitter brews to influence my opinion on the matter.
“This is very good,” Yukari observed, taking an inelegant gulp.
“Mm.” I had no faith in my own ability to tolerate alcohol, and so I sipped infrequently. “Tell me more about… about people like us.”
Chapter 24
Echoes of the Soul
Yukari spoke at length concerning the nature of the fey, particularly that of the miinari. From the very beginning, she neatly countered nearly every prejudice I'd learned as a child in Solaria. I was so engrossed in her words that the time seemed to slip away like water. Our waiter came bearing the meal we ordered and was gone again just as quickly as he appeared.
The tale of the miinari eventually came to rest upon magic, a topic that was much more deeply entwined with fey peoples than with humans. Much of this I knew, for Solaria had so vilified dark magic that they needed only to tell the truth in order to achieve their aims—that the miinari were inextricably linked to the Forbidden Aspect.
“What is the 'aetheric resonance' you were talking about before?” I asked, speaking up for the first time since Yukari began.
The question brought a faint blush to her face. “It is… a sort of communication between like souls. If you had been raised by both of your parents, you would have felt it from the start. She would have taught you how to hear the words on the aetherial winds.” Yukari's expression became sad as she regarded me. “Your childhood circumstances ensured you were isolated from others of your kind, and so your resonance never developed.”
“Is that… bad?”
Yukari frowned. “Fey children typically learn to hear the soul's whispers at a very young age. It is akin to being a human who cannot read or write.”
I suppressed a desire to sink deeper into my chair. “So my soul is… scribbling nonsense on the page?”
“That is an apt description.” Yukari immediately noticed the change in my mood. Her lips curved into that wonderfully sweet smile of hers. “You shouldn't blame yourself, Lily. You were raised by humans in a nation that views fey peoples as dangerous evil spirits.”
“I know, but I still feel bad,” I mumbled.
“Oh, it is hardly unpleasant for me, if that's what you're concerned about.” Red eyes glimmered in the soft lighting of the pub. “Your resonance is honest and beautiful. If anyone should apologize, it should be me.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“Your heart is an open book,” Yukari explained, a look of chagrin washing over her face. “There are no words but there is boundless emotion. I can't help but know how you… feel, with regards to me, because you never learned to hold yourself in.”
I didn't even need to see myself to know how intensely I was blushing.
“Y-you could, um, hear what I was thinking about?”
She shook her head. “Not your thoughts, but the ripples your emotional state sends through the aether in your soul. I felt just the slightest whisper of it when we first met, but it is so much stronger now.”
I made no effort to hide my relief. Yukari would have just sensed it anyway.
“If you wish to step back… away from me, I won't be offended. As strong as it—no, even then, your well-being is more important to me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Lily.”
I waved my hands in front of me in frantic denial. “N-no! I don't care about all of that!”
“But I—”
“I don't want you to go,” I protested, shaking my head vehemently. “I really don't want that.”
This time, it was she who refused to meet my gaze. “You're certain? Even though I—”
“It's not your fault, and I don't care. I'm anxious all the time and shy, sure, but it's… it's fine. It's not like you're doing it on purpose. It saves me from having to put my feelings into words.” My voice was still low, so that we would not be overheard, but it gained strength and confidence as I continued. “I'm not upset. You can't be blamed for hearing what was shouted at you.”
Yukari didn't respond to that.
“I may not know how to whisper into the aetherial winds,” I went on, “but that doesn't mean I'm not an adult. I can and have made my own decisions. Mother raised me well, even if Eiri couldn't be there to help.”
Nearly a minute of silence passed before Yukari spoke again.
“I can teach you, if you'd like.”
I blinked.
“Teach you to speak through the resonance,” she clarified. A strange expression crossed her face and she added, “After all, there is no one else who can, and it's an important skill to have, for not all fey peoples are able or willing to speak as humans do. Would you like to learn?”
“Of course!”
“Then I will teach you.”
Our food had cooled enough at that point for us to eat. I felt famished, as if I hadn't eaten in days, and it was only after I had begun to tear into the grilled meat that I stopped in mid-chew. It was as if all the formal table manners Mother had meticulously instilled into me at a young age vanished entirely.
It was then I realized Yukari wasn't eating any more “politely” than I was. Less, actually. Her lips were smeared with salty, savory grease. She seemed completely unperturbed by the indecent haste at which I was stuffing myself.
Her head tilted to one side. “Something wrong?”
“N-no, I just… I should be using my utensils, right? I grew up in a highborn House, I spent endless hours learning proper dining etiquette; I don't know why I just started grabbing the food and—”
Understanding dawned on Yukari's face and she smiled. “It's okay, Lily. You don't have to pretend to be something you aren't. You don't have to be ashamed of what you are.”
> “I don't know what's wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong with you. You've just been made to act like a human when you aren't. It feels rather burdensome, does it not? All of the rules they create, all of the 'do this, don't do that, think this, don't think that.' It's very difficult to hide behind their pretty lies.”
“Is it really so different for the fey?” I asked.
Yukari licked the grease from her lips in the same manner a cat might. “Humans have trouble understanding their own hearts, much less those of others. They're incapable of feeling others' pain and joy as if it were their own. This is why their history is so stained with blood.”
“Why do Mother's people hate me so much?”
The question came unbidden, drawn out of me of its own accord. It was not just a desperate, frustrated entreaty, but also an admission to myself. Thanks to Yukari, the human self-image I held onto for my entire life was rapidly fraying, the tattered edges fluttering in the wind.
“I don't know,” Yukari admitted. “Perhaps they are afraid of those they don't understand, but I doubt it's that simple.”
“Why is it different in Fialla? Why do the humans here seem to care so little?”
“You'd do better to ask Rose about the history of her people.” Yukari reached for her glass and drained nearly half of it in a single long pull. She sighed in contentment. “My knowledge on the subject is fairly limited. From what I've heard, the people of this land were often oppressed by foreign powers built upon the strength of their magic. It was ever so, until Fialla's technological advances lessened the imbalance of power.”
“That doesn't answer my question, though,” I pointed out.
“Fialla has served as a refuge of sorts for people fleeing the persecution of the Empire. Those who seek asylum, fleeing the inquisitors that hunt them for the color of their magic.” Her expression was pensive as she regarded me. “Clergy of the Celestial Prophecy have never been especially welcome in this country. What Fiallan would welcome a hierarchical rule by powerful mages, when they had spent much of their history subjugated by the arcane empires of old? Why would they welcome adherents of a faith that declares their fey friends and neighbors as dangerous monsters, a faith that unilaterally declares any who are too dark of skin or soul to be embodiment of evil?”
Despite Yukari's protestations to lacking knowledge of Fiallan lore, her explanation made a great many things more clear to me. The history of humanity was soaked with blood and death. They struggled and fought among themselves, fearing their rivals would stand above them. So many of them could be made to do anything, if those commandments were handed down by the priests who spoke for the gods. Humanity's defining characteristic was fear, and it tainted everything they were and everything they would be.
It all seemed so pointless. So much blood was and would be spilled, and for what?
“I'm sorry, Lily.”
“What for?”
“Somehow the conversation has turned rather grim,” Yukari said, and I could sense a bit of a sympathetic echo from within her. “I wanted to enjoy this night, as I fear it'll be our last bit of respite before…”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “It's okay. I asked, after all, and you've taught me so many things that I never knew. So many things that I believed to be true that were not.”
*
We spoke of lighter subjects until our meal was gone, the plates and glasses whisked away by our efficient and taciturn waiter. The hour began to grow later, and I suppressed a yawn. My “vacation” between Academy terms had become far more grueling than the term itself, and not simply because Shion worked me to exhaustion on a daily basis.
Yukari gazed at me with concern. “You seem to be getting sleepy.”
“Shion is a tough taskmaster,” I mumbled.
“They're worried about you. I'm worried about you. Even the other masters are worried, though the source of their concern varies.” The half-fey mage reached out and wiped a spot of grease from my lips. She licked it from her fingers, slowly and deliberately. My cheeks grew hot, and the surge of desire that sent a tingle up my spine seemed to push my exhaustion back.
“Mm.”
“Do you feel safe with me, Lily?”
I blinked at the question, spoken in an odd, plaintive sort of tone. “W-why do you ask?”
“I care about you,” she replied, swallowing hard. “A lot. But I don't want to push you. I don't want to make you feel unsafe or afraid. It's been so long since I last felt so drawn to another, and I have never been terribly adept at this sort of thing.”
Her ruby eyes sparkled, and I could feel a strange sort of tugging on the firmament of my spirit. I'd never experienced such a thing before, but I understood it to be the resonance that Yukari had described.
“Me, neither,” I admitted. “It's always so, um…” I trailed off into silence, trying to think of a good way to put it into words. “Humans make it so complicated. Especially in Solaria. Especially the highborn mages.”
Yukari burst into laughter. “Yes, exactly that!”
“Rose was different, though.”
“I'm not surprised. She, as Shion was wont to say, 'lives to cut through the bullshit.' It's an apt description, yes?”
“That definitely sounds like Rose,” I agreed. “Her father is the same way. It's clear where she gets it from.” I tried, but failed, to suppress another yawn. No matter how much I was enjoying the company, my body and my magic felt dull and listless. I was tired, and no amount of interesting conversation would continue to hold my attention for long.
“Perhaps you should ask Rose to come pick us up?” Yukari suggested.
“I don't want to, but I do.” I bit my lower lip. I didn't want to leave. Being around Yukari was not the same as being around Rose. It was different, as her personality and demeanor was nearly as opposite as it could be, but equally as wonderful. Withdrawing my multicom from a pocket, I woke the device and tapped out a short message to Rose.
The multicom chimed with her response almost immediately. I read over her reply with wide eyes, which apparently caused me to blush so darkly that Yukari noticed. She tilted her head in a wordless query.
“Um,” I mumbled.
“Is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah, everything is fine.”
“Will she be coming to take us home soon?”
I bit my lip again. “Um, not exactly.”
“Pardon?”
“She said she's um, still busy with Shion,” I explained, trying to keep my tone as even as I could, which was quite difficult, “and that I should just um… go home with you for tonight, and she'll come pick me up in the morning…”
Yukari said nothing, but her ruby eyes glittered in the dim light. My multicom chimed again, the sound jolting me out of my daze. I read the next message, which brought a smile to my face. I held the device with the screen facing Yukari so she could read the second missive from Rose.
“Oh.” A deeply hopeful look blossomed over Yukari's face. “That is… I mean—”
“It's just Rose.” I shook my head in exasperated wonderment. “It's just how she is.”
The new message made it clear that Rose was not so busy she couldn't come to pick me up if I really wanted to return to her apartment for the night, and that it was entirely up to me who I spent the night with.
I tapped out a reply, and received Rose's brief answer within thirty seconds. Again, I held the screen toward Yukari so she could read. It was difficult to describe exactly the expression she made upon reading it, but it was less difficult to interpret the sudden haste in which she sprang to her feet and dropped a scattering of Fiallan currency notes upon the table.
Yukari held a hand out for me, which I took without hesitation. She pulled me through the still quite busy dining room and toward the nearest exit. I glanced at my multicom's screen one last time before putting the device to sleep and shoving it back in my pocket.
See you tomorrow morning, my message read.
/> Have fun, Rose had replied, with a small red heart at the end.
Chapter 25
Ebb and Flow
Yukari sent a message on her multicom as we left the pub, and within minutes a driver had appeared. The two of us sat side-by-side in the back seat of the small vehicle. We didn't speak at all on the drive, which took only a few minutes, and she tipped the driver far beyond what they would have expected for so short a distance.
The building where Yukari lived was scarcely even a kilometer from the pub. We could have walked easily, but the urgency at which she tugged on my hand suggested that Yukari was far more concerned with haste than thrift. We took the elevator to the fourth floor, and she led me down the corridors toward a door that opened up into a small but elegant corner apartment. It was much, much smaller than Rose's place, though I suspected the monthly rent was similar due to its proximity to the heart of the city.
There was little furniture and no bedrooms, only a small kitchenette in an alcove off to one side and a narrow open doorway that led to the bathroom. Yukari had no couch or tables, no decorative touches whatsoever. Her apartment was almost empty, save for a bed with plain gray blankets, and a wide desk with a computer workstation that looked just as impressive as the one she used at her office in the Cabal building.
I couldn't see any closets or wardrobes, but a stack of haphazardly folded clothing—mostly black shirts and denim pants—was piled up near the foot of the bed. A large plastic bin held what looked like a tangle of socks and underwear, simply dropped inside after washing.
“Um, welcome to my place,” Yukari said, more than a little self-consciously. Her tone became more apologetic as she rambled on. “I don't ever have guests so it's not exactly well-furnished or decorated and I don't really have time to do any of that sort of thing because I'm always so busy with research and work for the Cabal and trying to help the refugee settlements so it's never been much of a priority—”
“It's okay, Yukari,” I assured her.
“I'm—I'm nervous, of course, but I'm sure you can tell.”
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