by Talis Jones
Foolish, he knew, but he couldn't quite shake such foolishness from his desires as was evident the moment his boots halted in front of her door. A polite knock and he clasped his hands behind his back, waiting patiently for her invitation.
The door opened and she stared at him with a carefully arched eyebrow giving away an air of light impatience upon an otherwise stoic face. “Yes?”
Kenshin bobbed his head, manners not completely abandoning him. “My name is Kenshin,” he introduced personally. “I simply wanted to check how you found your room. Is there anything you need?”
Her startling green eyes brushed over him skeptically. “I don't think that's in the role of a ruling Whisper, is it?”
He shrugged. “I'm a friendly host. Besides, seeing as the Whisper Council rotates turns we are all ultimately on equal standing.”
As he waited patiently she finally gave in with a heavy sigh. “The room is fine, thank you.”
A bright smile tugged up his lips. “I'm happy to hear it. Someone will turn up shortly to fit you with clothes. You may wish to clean up and rest before tonight.”
Cassandra's body tensed with wariness. “Why? What's tonight?”
“Initiation,” he winked.
“Is this like some barbaric practice amongst gangs and soldiers? Am I to prove myself in some ridiculous manner?”
Something about her obvious rejection of the idea made him want to tease her and lie but he forced himself to be kind and put her worries at ease. He wanted to tame the wild beast that now protected her heart. “Nyet, it's really just a grand party. Feasting, dancing, dull speeches made by Abel.... That sort of thing.”
“Oh,” she relaxed. “Well then, that's fine.”
“Fine indeed,” he replied, a shadow of amusement crossing his features. “I will leave you to rest.”
“Wait,” Cassandra called quickly.
Kenshin's gaze forcibly lifted from where her slender hand grasped his arm. “Ja?”
“Did Titus say anything after I left? About the apprenticeship?” Her eyes were earnest and she delicately chewed her lower lip awaiting his response.
Unsure of whether he ought to tell her Titus' decision or not he chose his words carefully. “He will attend the festivities tonight to witness your claim of magic. Each Whisper chooses their gift on initiation night, although some choose to forestall the decision not yet ready to make such a weighty choice. You too will choose your path tonight.” He dipped his head in farewell. “Choose wisely.”
Chapter 5
Night fell quickly and Cassandra examined her appearance from every angle with a calculating eye. Her old cottage might have been too remote to worry about looks or fashion but she never forgot her first trip into town and the humiliation that followed. Even now the feeling of dirt on her skin and frays in her peasant clothing resurfaced in her thoughts, her face tightening sharply to dispel the memories. Her emerald ice eyes narrowed as she took in one final sweep of her reflection in the mirror before giving herself a small nod in approval. These are the clothes her famous yet hermit father should have dressed her in. The Whispers may be generally reserved in possessions, but they clearly did not hesitate to splurge for a party.
A sharp knock followed by a sunny greeting were all the warning Cassandra received before a Whisper with fiery red hair entered her chambers. “Are you ready?” she asked with a dimpled grin. Her brown eyes rounded at the new arrival before her. “Oh you look lovely,” she breathed.
Cassandra glided past her into the hall. “It'll do.”
Meticulously swept stairs led them towards the receiving hall and with every step deep violet skirts flared around Cassandra's ankles forcing the other girl to keep her distance or be knocked over. The chatter of a sociable crowd wafted towards them as they reached the gilded doors propped open for guests to enter or flee the ballroom as they pleased.
Briefly a flash of nerves skittered down Cassandra's spine and her palms began to moisten but with a mental slap she pulled back her shoulders and allowed the Whisper to lead her inside. She knew what such occasions looked like, she had seen many a painting and heard many a tale, but what should have been an event full of dainty foods, flowing wine, intricate dances, and coy guests all adorned in silver and gold was instead something altogether more heathen.
Whispers danced with abandon to music featuring pounding drums that drove the blood into a frenzy, food of all sorts was heaped upon tables (though not everyone felt obliged to use a plate), the room albeit grand lacked any lavish décor, and narry a coy flirtation nor stiff manner could be found. The moment she entered the festivities she'd drawn a crowd like bees to honey and wanted nothing more than to swat them away as they pressed far too close behaving in a manner much too familiar for strangers.
To Cassandra's disdain it was Medusa who came to her rescue. “Out of the way, flies!” she cried merrily before sliding to a stop in front of Cassandra. “Well you sure clean up nicely, that's for certain.”
“Thank you,” Cassandra replied tightly.
“Oh come on,” Medusa sighed with a roll of her midnight eyes. “It's a party and it's for you. At least try to have fun. They do have fun where you're from, don't they?”
“Of course,” Cassandra replied indignantly. “However this is–”
“Grander?”
“Barbaric.”
Despite the barb Medusa seemed unfazed, letting a laugh slip past her lips. “Come on, Cass,” she chuckled, linking her arm with Cassandra's. “Let's get you a drink.”
Cassandra's mouth parted to correct her name but snapped it shut in defeat, knowing that the more she insisted the more Medusa would tease her. Besides, other than the rude teasing there was an openness about the Whisper that she very much enjoyed. And she sat on the Whisper Council making her quite a useful ally to have in her pocket.
Pulled to the side of the frivolity Medusa pressed a goblet of wine into Cassandra's stoic hands and then passed her a slice of cake. When she tried to take the plate Medusa shook her head mischievously. “With your hands if you please,” she smirked.
Cassandra let out a deep huff of air, her eyes hiding not a trace of her annoyance, before snatching the sugary dessert and eating every crumb without breaking eye contact.
“Feeling better?” Medusa asked kindly, leaning a hip against the wall.
“I was feeling fine before,” Cassandra insisted. “I was simply taken by surprise.”
Medusa looked her up and down then let it go. “Oneiroi might be different from all of our old homes but it's the best place to make into a new home. If you wanted a fresh start then this is the place to do it and now is the time to leave your old world baggage behind. We do not divide ourselves by language or skin or class, whether past or present. Oneiroi is home to all.” She leaned in a bit closer. “No one knows who you were, so begin as who you wish to become.”
Cassandra took in the Whisper's words finding only honesty within them. “Do you give that advice to everyone or just to the troublemakers?”
Medusa grinned. “Why? Are you calling yourself a troublemaker?”
“I don't exactly fit in,” she hedged.
“Nyet,” Medusa agreed. “But you will. If you try. If you relax and let people get to know you.”
“I don't need them to like me,” Cassandra sniffed stubbornly before she could hold her tongue.
The Whisper noticed her slip. “You do if you want to apprentice under Titus. You'll need to learn how to make friends in all places and charm even those you despise or else in a flash everything you hoped to gain will be taken from you.” Medusa snatched a pastry from the table. “Just so you know, I share that advice with all the new arrivals,” she smiled before melting into the crowd.
Minutes began slipping by and Cassandra could hardly believe she'd somehow ended up as a wallflower at her own party. Whatever intrigue and boldness that drew everyone in at first had either dissipated or turned into wariness as a result from the coldness she'd expressed at th
eir initial advances. But Medusa was right, she'd need to practice her charm if she was to get everything she wanted.
Before Cassandra could set out on this new mission the music softened and Abel stood on a raised dais raising his hands to get everyone's attention.
“Welcome brothers and sisters! We celebrate in honor of a new arrival on the Island, and not just any arrival but a Whisper. Could the arrival please come forward.”
His eyes burned with a dislike that hadn't been there earlier but he performed his role dutifully. He didn't like this or her. Perhaps he'd wanted the role of apprentice? Cassandra curved her lips into a smile but couldn't spread the emotion to her eyes which matched Abel's in heat. Once she reached the dais she dipped her head in a brisk bow. “Thank you for the grand welcome.”
Turning to face the small sea of curious faces she continued, “I apologize for any coldness you might have felt upon my arrival, I am not used to being surrounded by so many people and I embarrassingly admit you frightened me. Truly, I look forward to getting to know each of you.” Understanding spread like a balm but she buried her smirk in exchange for a façade of humble apology tinged with a playful air. “I'm sure a colorful lot like you have many fascinating stories to tell,” she ended with a wink.
Clearly straining every muscle in his body to refrain from rolling his eyes, Abel regained the reins of the celebration. “To fulfill your place as Whisper you must first swear an oath. Will you?”
He placed a heavy stare upon her to impress the depth of importance this moment would bring but Cassandra found it easy to bear and therefore answered with an eager, “Of course.”
“Do you pledge your loyalty, body and heart, to the Island of Oneiroi?”
“I do.”
“Do you pledge your gift, whatever it may be, to the people?”
“I do.”
“Do you pledge your thoughts and deeds for the good of the people?”
“I do.”
“Do you pledge to lay down your past life, dead and buried, to pursue this second life in service of Oneiroi?”
Cassandra's eyes glinted. “With pleasure.”
Silence filled the hall, stretched out by Abel's searching gaze. His face remained unreadable, his thoughts protected behind a shield, but at last he conceded. “Welcome, Whisper. Porfabór, share your name as you wish to be called henceforth.”
Understanding this was an opportunity to throw off all ties of her past life she considered it carefully but despite everything she loved her father and the name he gave her would be the one thing she would allow herself to keep. The name he claimed came from a dream that spoke of greatness. “Cassandra.”
“Welcome...Cassandra,” Abel smiled tightly.
A cacophony of shouts and applause rose up in giddy reception but it hushed just as quickly, eagerly awaiting whatever came next.
“Is this when–” she began.
“Normally when a Whisper has taken the oath and chosen a name they receive a gift from the Island. Sometimes it is chosen and sometimes the Island chooses for them. However tonight we face a special occasion as there will be no gift given.” A lashing of speculating whispers broke out and Cassandra felt her fists curling in fury. “Discussed in Council prior to this ceremony it was decided that the Whisper Cassandra would be offered an apprenticeship with the Reaper himself, Titus.”
Now the rumors and wild reactions in the crowd tripled in enthusiasm. Cassandra could hardly hear herself think over the noise but an arrogant calmness spread through her bones. “I–”
For the second time that night she was interrupted, much to her annoyance, but at the sight of the source an instantaneous silence filled the room and chilled her spine. “I'd wait until you've heard the bargain,” Titus advised from behind her.
Whirling around she came face to face with her rescuer and now mentor. “I don't need to hear the terms. I know what I want.”
He tipped his head to the side in that unsettling birdlike way he was oft to do. “Want and need are not the same.”
“Of course they aren't, I'm not stupid,” she hissed narrowing her eyes. “I happen to know both and this is the first step.”
“To become my apprentice you must give up two years of your life.”
“In servitude?” She loathed the idea but would endure almost anything for the magic she desired.
“You will attend my lessons and heed my limitations on your magic until I say otherwise,” he nodded. “The two years however will be payment upfront. You will age to the brink of eighteen while I gain a little youthful spring in my step.”
Cassandra's brow pinched together sharply. “But why?”
“The Reaper cannot live forever, they can only try. To accept my apprenticeship is to one day accept this job and forfeit your life as a true Whisper, an ageless Whisper. Once you take the oath of the Collector and place that first footstep beyond the Island it will begin the ticking of the clock. You will travel between worlds and each time you do your body will age. Perhaps slowly, perhaps quickly. But you will age and be forced to find an apprentice before your time runs out.” He leaned down, his eyes boring straight through to her soul. “Full magic comes with a price,” he warned. “It might be wise to reconsider and choose the gift of a Whisper instead of the burden of apprenticeship.”
Her swallow seemed caught in her throat at his words and her palms moistened at the choice between lives, a choice with a deadline. She could take the path of a Whisper, immortality and a piece of magic could suffice. She'd have more than she did before. But she'd sworn to herself to make this life different, to take advantage of every opportunity, to be someone no one could threaten, to have the power to protect herself... The memory of the soldiers, the fire, her father...they raged back into her thoughts igniting the blood in her veins. Damn immortality, she would build that bridge when she got to it, for now she would take what she could. Everything.
“I accept.”
Clasping Titus' hand she suddenly found her body screaming in pain though no sound left her lips. Frozen to the spot as if by electrocution her heart pounded violently and she could feel every stretch and growth of bones and skin as Titus sucked two whole years of life from her timeline. It was over as quick as it began and she collapsed onto the floor bruising her knees.
Titus kneeled down and murmured. “I'll see you at dawn.”
All Cassandra could do was pant heavily and drag her heavy eyes up from the floor. The moment they met his ancient gaze he vanished. A chorus began to sing, the tune both beautiful and eerie, as Medusa made her way to the dais. Helping her onto her feet she offered no smile, only concern Cassandra did not want. The music soared through the air, it burrowed beneath her skin, it thrummed through her veins, and chilled her very skin. But Cassandra ignored it, too focused on regaining her breath and choosing her next step. Was the magic already hers? All of it? Or would Titus only siphon it slowly? Perhaps he could control when she used it, containing it to their lessons only. Why did her core feel as if it were a tuning fork struck by a mallet? If only they would cease that unsettling music! Once it seemed to reach its end it struck up once again morphing into a maddening loop, conducting its oath into her veins.
Clutching her head tightly she begged, “Medusa, please, make it stop.”
Medusa's hands smoothed back her hair gently. “Make what stop? Are you alright?”
Agony poured from her eyes as she looked the girl desperately in the face. “The music, it won't shut up!”
Worry clouded Medusa's face and she chewed her lip as she looked around them. Unable to find what she hoped for she bent down and softly murmured, “Cassandra, there isn't any music. The musicians are eating.”
Confusion tore at Cassandra but with sudden ire she hissed, “Titus.”
A dark chuckle responded.
Land of death
Land of life
Land of second chances
Land of dreams
Land of nightmares
Land
of endless battle
Children die to grow old
While the old drift past unaware
Queens have risen
Kings have ruled
But all of them have fallen
A whisper travels through the air
Calling for the others
Jourdies work hard, they work all day
They dream of what they might
Weepys cry, Weepys run
But they will dance inside the firelight
On a ghost ship they come
On no ship can they leave
The Reaper finds us all
Destined to her bidding
Oneiroi you love us so
But you do not stop the blood
The Whispers are your hands and ears
Driven by beating hearts that will never bend nor cower
Aztlan filled with fields of the east
Quidel its mountainous rival in the west
Llyr the desert kingdom wreathed in gold
Ailill the land of magic and stories untold
Last is Silvanus and its claim of the north
Land of darkness
Land of light
Land for strangers only strife
Oneiroi calls to you
Oneiroi sings
Land of death
Land of life
Land of endless might
Land of dreams
Land of nightmares
Land of no more tears
Oneiroi
Oneiroi
Oneiroi the end draws near
Chapter 6
Dawn rose far too swiftly and yet as a yawning Jourdie gently shook Cassandra's shoulder her eyes snapped open and her blood coursed in a wakening rush. Fate had decided to give her a second chance at life and she would not question what forces had dealt the hand. She would only focus on the next step of the journey. Cassandra would learn to master each particle of magic bestowed upon her and make good on her promise to rise.
