Shion and Yuka both weighed in on the subject from the perspective of a Fiallan citizen. The people of this nation were rapidly growing frustrated with their Governing Council's behavior regarding the demands of the Empire. While Cassius and his fellows on the Council pushed to deescalate, attempt to defuse the situation, he had his own detractors who believed that it was time for Fialla to stand up to the Empire and refuse to be cowed.
I hadn't been here long enough, or seen enough to know for certain that Fialla would be able to win such a war. The country was still working to recover from the damage it sustained during the Forge War, but it hardly mattered if they were ready or not. The Celestial Prophecy had far too much power in the Empire, and Fialla's Council could no longer ignore the justified anger of the people. It would only take time and some moderate persuasion for the few remaining holdouts among Heads to change their stances and vote in favor of military action. Fialla's Governing Council would be unable to quell their citizens' desire to stand and fight.
Empress Altair was young and inexperienced, and I wondered just how many of her words were dictated by the Church. No one could quite tell who held the Empress's strings. Was it the Court itself, or was it the Church? Was it both, or neither? The concept of a decorative monarch wasn't new to Solaria, but there was always a great deal of interest in discovering exactly which hands guided their actions.
At some point I realized Yuka was looking at me expectantly. There was no hint of impatience in her ruby eyes. She knew I was attempting to make sense out of this, and chose not to intrude upon my thoughts.
“I wish we could stay together,” I said out loud. “I wish I could… just stay here. With Rose, with you, with Shion and Cassius and all the people of this country who don't hate and fear me for what I might be capable of doing.”
Yuka's lips brushed against mine, briefly, and all I could see was her beautiful scarlet irises.
“We all wish that for you, Lily,” she murmured, “but we know why it's not possible.”
I closed my eyes. “If…”
“If?”
“I was just imagining that if things somehow managed to work out, that I would like to… to try and learn more of my forebears.” I opened my eyes again and saw that Yuka had tilted her head to one side, as she typically did when she felt curious. “I would like to try and find Eiri's family.”
“Ah,” Yuka stated, her expression becoming intrigued. “You wish to speak with the refugees in Fialla, then? You should speak with Cassius about that, though I would not expect that path to be an easy one.”
“What?”
“All of the fey are distrustful of humans as a rule, and generally speaking, they don't quite know what to make of children of mixed unions.” Yuka paused for a moment and sat up straighter. “The fact that you are from the Empire, that you are the daughter of the Head of a High House—”
“Former Head,” I corrected.
Yuka shrugged. “It won't matter to them. Not every miinari refugee was a survivor of the exodus from our homeland. Others—perhaps even most—are much younger and never lived in our ancestral homeland. They fled the depredations of the Celestial paladins.”
“Then it would be reasonable to conclude some of them might be refugees from lands the Empire conquered.”
“True, though there is no functional difference between lacking knowledge and refusing to share it. Either way you won't find what you need to know. If they are to help you, their trust will have to be earned.”
The words seemed to echo within my soul. I could sense the resonance of Eiri's spirit blade, as if the relic's magic attempted to respond to Yuka's words, but it was still muddled and incoherent. I could hear the whispers, but they formed nonsense syllables that held no meaning to me. Despite the training that further developed my Aspect and Yuka's tutelage regarding the resonance, I was still no closer to properly wielding Eiri's legacy than I had been when I first acquired the sword.
Wincing, I attenuated the link to the relic and the confusing babble ceased. It was only a few seconds later when the door to Cassius's study opened and Rose came walking toward me. She looked about as grim as I felt.
“Is that it, then?” Yuka inquired.
Rose nodded. “Dad isn't happy about any of this… but he's at least willing to work with us as best he can to keep us safe. Though he was also perfectly willing to remind me just how reckless and stupid we're acting.”
“Multiple times, I'm sure,” I muttered.
“Oh, I got to half a dozen before I stopped counting.”
“Your father is worried,” Yuka pointed out. “As he should be.”
“We're all worried,” Rose countered. “We're on the brink of war, and there's obnoxious fucking idiots on both sides that want nothing more than to kill each other. I'm terrified, and not just for myself or my family, but for what the Empire is doing to Lily's mom, how her own family is exploiting the situation for personal gain.”
I visibly flinched at the mention of Mother, and Rose sent me an apologetic look.
“Look,” she continued, trying to keep the frustration from her tone with only partial success, “if we can pull this off and get out with our heads still attached, your mom will be safe here. Dad will make sure of it, I promise.”
*
“This is not how I imagined my term break playing out,” Rose grumbled.
“Yet you knew more about what was going on than I did.”
I was trying hard not to think about the airship flight as we made our way through the port at Naara. To avoid complications, we'd taken a longer trip that first diverted to the Coalition, where we boarded another airship before heading south to the Empire.
It might not have been entirely necessary, as it seemed Fiallan vessels of both sea and air were still docking. It didn't escape our notice that such ships were garnering a truly excessive amount of scrutiny from IPSB. Fortunately, the Coalition-registered airship was of little interest to the security forces that swarmed over much of the city.
“Bribes,” Rose said just under her breath.
I shrugged. Whatever the Coalitionist were smuggling into the Empire, it wasn't any of our business. We benefited from their willingness to grease the right palms, so that IPSB would turn a blind eye to whatever contraband they'd come to sell on the black market.
We managed to make it out of the port without trouble, even though Rose was very obviously not Solarian. The presence of her manashard and the uniform, though, tempered what responses she received to the usual furtive glances and wary looks. The sky looked about as grim as we felt, and I was worried it would open up soon. The prospect of being rained upon wasn't one I relished, and both Rose and I made our way to the tram station with a fair bit of haste.
I checked the schedule posted to the wall. It felt… strange, being back in Solaria after having spent weeks in a much more technologically advanced nation. It should have felt like coming home, but what little welcome the familiar surroundings would have granted was dashed by the constant refrain echoing over and over again in my mind.
This wasn't my home. It had never been my home. It was a place filled with people who hated what I was, with people who believed with all of their heart that imprisoning and executing my mother was a just course of action.
By the time the tram arrived, I was already deep within my dark thoughts. Rose sat next to me, and she reached out to take my hand. Her warmth seeped into my body and soul, but did little to improve my mood.
“You miss her already,” Rose murmured.
I felt my cheeks warm and I nodded.
“I know it's not the same, but I'm here with you, little red lily.” Rose offered a reassuring smile and leaned in to kiss my cheek.
“You're not… jealous of Yuka, are you?”
Rose laughed, as if the question was absurd. “Of course not. I don't resent the time you spend with her or how you feel about her in the slightest. I'm not jealous, but I admit I'm… a little envious of her.”
“I wish I could do what she does for you,” Rose clarified. “It makes me feel a little inadequate, like I'm not good enough. I know you're about to tell me 'that's nonsense, you're wonderful' and yes, I am wonderful, thank you for noticing, but I still wish we could connect on that level.” She huffed a little. “Sorry, I'm just feeling cranky about being a mere human.”
“You're not a 'mere' human. You're someone I love dearly.”
“Also, I'm wonderful,” she added with a grin.
“Oh, yes. Can't forget that.”
The remainder of the tram ride went by in silence. At each stop, more and more young Solarians wearing the uniform of the Academy boarded, until the tram was crowded and private conversation became impossible.
At the end of the line, we managed to slip through the knots of students and made our way across the outer gardens. The Academy looked exactly as it did when we left. Nothing had changed, the buildings were all the same, but I was different. I didn't look upon this institution of arcane learning with the same hope and excitement as I once had.
I knew that the path we'd chosen would take this future, along with the hope and excitement it had granted, away from us forever. My dream of finally achieving status and security in the Empire as a recognized water mage of House Alcyone was gone, blanketed beneath the impenetrable shadows of my true magic. I'd learned enough from the Cabal to hide my Aspect from casual observance, to stabilize the way my powers developed.
I expected that old and tenuous, barely perceptible affinity for water to be smothered by the darkness. It was the way of things. Possessing multiple, fully-evolved Aspects was exceptionally rare, even for those born with more than one path to walk. What was strange was I could still feel the waters within my soul. My connection to the magic of Alcyone should have withered and died, but somehow it was still there. I could still sense a kinship, albeit faint, with the power that was steeped into the storm clouds, the rain yet to fall, and the fanciful ponds and water features of the Academy gardens.
And yet, the link felt stronger than ever. I had just been so focused on honing my necromancy in Fialla that I hadn't noticed. Now that I had no choice but to draw the strands of death inside to keep them hidden, it was impossible to ignore.
Rose seemed intent on getting into our dorm room as soon as possible. I wished desperately that I could speak to her, soul-to-soul, as I did with Yuka. I wanted to tell her what I was feeling, but I couldn't form the words. I couldn't say these things aloud without increasing the risk to us both. We weren't safe any longer.
Chapter 27
Glimpse of the End
It was the first night I'd slept alone in weeks, and I wasn't prepared for how it would affect me. I opened my eyes slowly and immediately glanced at Rose, who slumbered rather peacefully in the bunk across from mine. It was the sixth time I'd been unwillingly pulled from sleep that night, and I felt as if I'd gotten no rest at all. The sun was already beginning to edge over the horizon; through the window, a sliver of early-morning light stabbed into the room.
I chose not to try and sleep again. The wall clock told me it was a little after seven, and my first class of the new term was in two hours. I was certain Rose would take all the sleep she could get, but Erika Corvus would soon awaken.
Shrugging off the blankets, I stood barefoot upon the hardwood floor and moved over to the corner of the desk. A small teapot sat nearby, the same one Rose had enchanted with a minor heat-metal spell so many months ago. It seemed so quaint and old-fashioned, even something of a waste, to use magic for something so mundane as heating water for tea.
The realities of being back in Solaria felt uncomfortable when I barely noticed them before. How could a half-dozen weeks spent in another nation affect me so? How had I changed so much in such a short period of time? My relationship with Rose surely contributed, as did my bond with Yuka. I'd spent my entire twenty years of life without ever encountering another of the fey. I grew up, raised as a human with an unfortunate lack of purity of blood, never felt a lack, and so I never suspected that anything was missing.
“Good morning, Lily.”
I nodded toward Erika Corvus as she stood beside me to prepare her own cup of tea. The tin filled with fragrant leaves was the same as it had been before I left. It still held the same aromatic blend. The room was the same. My bed felt the same. Erika Corvus looked the same—that is to say, she always looked elegant and dignified no matter what, despite having just awoken from eight hours of slumber.
Nothing was different, yet everything had changed.
There was a sharp rap on the door to our room. Erika's gaze flicked toward the door, an irritated expression twisting her features. Who would be knocking on our door this early? The dorms would not be open to just anyone, so it had to have been one of the faculty or staff.
I was wearing a bit more than Erika, and not fiddling with a cup of tea, so I walked over and opened the door. I looked up to see a middle-aged man I'd never met before—which wasn't all that surprising, as the Academy was quite large—dressed in the robe-like uniform of a master mage.
“Miss Lily Alcyone, I presume?”
“Yes.”
The master nodded. “Your presence is required in the headmistress's office.”
“What, right now?” I scowled at the master and plucked at the thin fabric of my nightgown. “Can I at least get dressed first?”
“Of course. I will wait outside.”
I shut the door and turned to see Rose still sound asleep despite all the noise, and Erika Corvus giving me a peculiar look.
“You are summoned?”
“No idea why, and the one they sent didn't seem interested in telling me why,” I murmured. I felt a slight quickening of my pulse and had to take a moment to push back against rising paranoia. I knew it would happen, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly.
Lord Cyrus was likely already attempting to undermine my position at the Academy, and I hadn't even been back for a full day yet. If my return to Solaria surprised him at all, he apparently didn't let it slow him down in the slightest.
Quickly, for I knew the master wouldn't wait for me forever, I dressed in the Academy's winter uniform. It was cold, but the skirt was reasonably long and made of a heavy enough material. We were permitted to wear leggings during the colder months, and I opted to take advantage of this. My old, familiar soft leather boots went on easily as well-broken boots should.
I straightened the collar of my shirt before stepping out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me. Through all of that, Rose hadn't woken up, and I wanted to let her sleep as much as she wished.
The master gave me an expectant look. “You are ready?”
“Yes. Let's go.”
I walked beside the master as we left the dorm building and headed across the inner garden paths, leading toward the administration building. Iron-gray clouds hung overhead in a great blanket, smothering the blue sky above. I sniffed the air and the scent of damp was strong; it would start raining soon.
The master stopped at the administration building's doors and muttered a passward. With an obliging click, the enchanted locks opened. Again, what should have been normal and natural to me felt ostentatious and wasteful. Did the locks need to function via magic? Was it truly so insulting for a mage to use a metal key, or gods forbid, an electronic keycard?
How much of Solaria's culture was built upon putting forth an unnecessary magical solution for problems that did not truly exist? I spent the past month and a half in a country where magic was uncommon, rare and quaint, where those who did possess magic often went for days or weeks or even months without evoking arcane forces.
If I hadn't trained with the Cabal, I would not have used magic at all while in Fialla. I wouldn't have needed to, but here in the Empire, I felt an oppressive tug against my soul. It was as if everything around me demanded payment, an invisible tithe rendered in mana's coin.
It was unpleasant, to say the
least.
“Enter,” the master instructed.
I didn't bother to respond to him and walked into the admin building. I knew where the headmistress's office was, though I'd never had cause to go there before. One of the first things I did at the Academy was memorize the layout of the entire school. Passing through a half-dozen faculty and staff members performing their early-morning tasks, I opened the door—this one with a simple turning handle, thankfully—and walked into the outer office where the headmistress's secretary waited.
“Miss Alcyone, you are expected,” the woman told me. “Go on ahead.”
“Thank you,” I said, and stiffly bowed low in the Solarian style. It felt like a lifetime ago, the last time I'd bowed like that. It didn't feel natural any longer.
*
I was not surprised by what I would hear from the headmistress of the Academy.
“I'll get directly to the point. Lord Cyrus Alcyone, Head of the High House Alcyone of Solaria, has challenged the validity of your appointment to the Academy.”
I snorted. “On what grounds?”
“Your appointment was secured by Juno Alcyone, the former Head. An internal investigation by IPSB has discovered evidence that Juno Alcyone's Headship was obtained through fraudulent acts. Records obtained by IPSB indicate that the order of succession as laid down by Torin Alcyone had been violated by his son Janus—”
“That's nonsense,” I interrupted. My scowl deepened as I regarded the headmistress. “It was within Grandfather's power to change the order of succession if he wished!”
The headmistress sighed and sipped at a mug of tea. “Unfortunately, that is not correct. Janus Alcyone was only the acting Head of Household in the wake of Torin's untimely death, and thus would have had to bring the issue to table with all representatives of the House. From what I've been told, this didn't happen, and Lord Janus had the documents altered without consulting the lords and ladies of Alcyone.”
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