The Golden Days, by lyradaemon

Chapter 3: Beginnings

Disclaimer: Same as before

Two days could not come soon enough.

Yet the days passed, and I found myself once again at Dahlia House. All my belongings were packed in a small trunk; I did not have much, only some clothes, a book or two, and a few personal belongings. My mother assured me I would have belongings aplenty once I began my formal training.

This time the Dowayne himself met us at the entrance.

"Little Simone," he said, leaning down to give me the kiss of greeting; he had to lean a fair way, being a tall man. "Welcome to your House."

Then it struck me: I was truly going to become one of the Night Court. No longer would I be Simone de Toulois. I was now to be known as Simone nó Dahlia, a young apprentice. I was leaving my family. I did not know for how long, and the thought filled me with apprehension and fear.

The Dowayne whispered something to my mother – I could not hear what. Then she turned to me with a sorrowful smile on her lovely features. "Simone," she breathed, enfolding me in her arms one last time. "Take care, my love. I pray you will be happy." I looked up at her and was startled and horrified to see tears on her cheeks.

"Don't cry Mama," I whispered. "I will be alright; see, the Dowayne will care for me."

She laughed at that. "Of course he will." She straightened. "I should be going now; I must return home, and I know you will be well looked after here." She gave me a quick smile and a parting kiss before slipping out of the door.

I was alone.

The Dowayne sensed my mood; I daresay he had dealt with young children in my situation before. Setting an arm around my shoulders he called for an adept to come forth and show me to my room.

It was the adept who had shown us in the last time.

She gave me another haughty look and pursed her lips. Yet despite that she was as beautiful as any adept; silky ash-brown hair, brown eyes and a willowy grace which spoke volumes about her tutoring. Nodding briefly at the Dowayne, she took my hand and we headed off down a corridor.

The adept – Seline, her name was – pointed out various rooms along the way, though I scarce took notice; I was trying my very hardest to keep up with her relentless pace. I stumbled once and twice, and then she favoured me with her haughty stare and muttered something about 'clumsy children' which I pretended I did not hear.

Eventually we arrived outside a room just off a well-lit, sunny hall at the top of the staircase. "This is your room," Seline said, opening the door and ushering me in ahead of her. "You had best make yourself presentable; lunch will be served in half an hour."

And with that she left.

I stood there, in the middle of my new room, feeling decidedly lost and foolish. I glanced around, taking in the fair-sized bed, table and chair, and the full-length mirror which stood in one corner. Only the Night Court would furnish a room with a mirror like that. I crossed to it curiously and peered at my reflection.

I looked just the same: red-gold curls which framed my face charmingly – 'apricot' my mother used to say. Slanted green fox eyes, which was tilted at the corners; a dainty little mouth, perfectly shape. Even at so young an age my face was pronounced, with its high cheekbones and delicate jaw. I was of medium height, as eight-year old girls tend to be, and slender. A pretty D'Angeline child.

Yet I felt different.

I felt…strange, somehow, in a way I could not describe. I did not feel like I fitted in at all; I had not seen much of Dahlia House, it is true, yet what I had seemed to be so far beyond me I didn't think I would ever be acceptable to anyone.

And as eight-year old girls tend to do when in such moments, I sat on my bed and wept.

It was not that I was sad to be there; indeed, despite my apprehension at the staggering heights it appeared I would have to aspire to, I was thrilled to have been accepted in to this most prestigious of places. No, I was sad because I was among unfamiliar people, with no comfort around me, only haughty young adepts who did not seem to care one bit for me, and a Dowayne who terrified me in his sheer beauty.

I was alone, for the first time in my life, and I was miserable.

Well and so; I am not one to dwell on things, and so in time I gave up crying and decided, despite what it seemed, to make the best of a bad situation. I started by scrubbing my tear-stained and blotchy face – one which would not fit in in the Night Court – and dragged a brush through my hair; my trunk had been brought up while I was bidding farewell to my mother. I straightened my dress then glanced at myself in the mirror again.

It will have to do, I thought.

Finding nothing else to do, I sat on the windowsill and peered out at the scenery below me. My room, it seemed, overlooked the gardens; and Elua, what gardens they were! D'Angelines admire beauty in all its forms, and the beauty of gardens was most certainly one of them. Immaculately pruned bushes framed the garden with huge trees casting dappled shadows upon the well-tended grass. Everywhere I could see, flowers grew, scenting the air which blew through my open window with their gorgeous fragrance. Already I could pick out the dahlia, beautiful yellow and pink flowers, growing beside clumps of lavender bushes which made the air heady and sweet. I breathed it all in, relishing the vista; I knew I could spend hours in those gardens and never grow tired of it.

Sometime during my musing a knock sounded at the door. I started, suddenly confused as to where I was. Without waiting for my reply – which was not forthcoming – the door opened and a young boy stood in the doorway.

"Seline sent me to tell you that it is time for lunch," he said gravely. He peered at me frown behind long black lashes; I could see his eyes were a deep shade of blue. "Are you the new girl? Everyone says you are."

Do they indeed? I thought. "I am. My name is Simone," I ventured, climbing down from my perch at the window and trotting over to him.

He grinned at me unexpectedly; it was like the sun coming up – even then I felt my heart miss a beat. "I am Alcaeus; did you annoy Seline?"

The question caught me off guard. "I – no, I didn't. I don't know," I whispered lamely, looking at my feet.

Alcaeus surprised me again by taking my hand. "It's alright; everyone annoys Seline. It's not your fault. Come, I'll show you to the dining hall."

I followed Alcaeus much as I had followed Seline, although Alcaeus walked a lot slower and his hand was gentle. He pointed out various things that Seline had deigned to miss; the paintings depicting Elua and his Companions, Naamah in particular. There was one I particularly liked of a foreign noble bowing to Naamah when she refused to succumb to his will. "She is 'upright and unbending'," Alcaeus murmured when I paused before it. "It is said that Dahlia took it's motto from this painting." I nodded; it was very beautiful. He tugged my hand not unkindly. "We must hurry Simone; if we are late we will incur Seline's wrath. And I do not wish that for anyone, least of all you."

Obediently I hurried after him and presently we came to a spacious room with a low, sprawling tables and chairs and cushions heaped around it. Already there were a number of people there, adepts and apprentices alike. No patrons, I noted; Alcaeus told me later that there was a special room for them, where they would go unnoticed if they so wished.

Alcaeus led me to a table around which five or six other children our age were seated. He cleared his throat politely before introducing me, his face grave and serious. "This is Simone; she is the new apprentice. Simone, these are Léonie, Vienne, Honore, Bastien and Callias; they are all apprentices here."

The five of them – three girls, two boys – smiled at me and one patted the cushion beside them. "Sit down," she ordered kindly and began to pour a glass of cordial. I sat, and thanked her when she offered it to me. "I'm Vienne; I'd heard about you."

I smiled shyly and took a sip; it was cold and refreshing. One of the boys, Bastien leaned on the table and grinned. "Seline is already wrath at you," he said even as Vienne hissed for him to be quiet.

When I frowned, not understanding, she whispered conspiratorially, "if she hears she'll be even more angry." I nodded as if I knew what she meant. "Seline takes her duty very seriously. If one of us gets in trouble, she takes the blame. So she is usually in a bad mood."

"She's very beautiful," I ventured.

They all nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes!" Then one – Léonie – added, "But all adepts of the Night Court are beautiful."

"I heard that Camellia is the most beautiful House."

"Camellia? No, I think its Jasmine; I saw an adept from there before. She had light brown skin and such wonderful hair."

"I always wanted to be in Eglantine," another, Callias, mused. "I like singing."

"That's because you're from Siovale," Vienne teased. "You have to sing, like the goat herders." That earned her a playful thump.

"I don't like Camellia; they all think they are superior to the rest of – like Cereus."

"Yes, but that's because Cereus is the First of Thirteen. They are superior."

And so on and so forth.

Throughout the entire exchange – which was a long one – I came to realize something i had not known before. There was a rivalry between the Houses, one which was friendly bordering on jealous. The other children had something to say about all the Houses; how Alyssum were too boring, Camellia too superior; how Eglantine were so competitive and Gentian was, as Callias said haughtily, 'feeble'. I daresay it would amuse me now; then, I was terrified at the thought of meeting these dreadful people.

Still, I listened to it all eagerly, grateful for the company and engaging joyful in the conspiratorial whispers about certain members of Valerian House. It was meaningless, as much of what young people talk about is, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

I felt welcomed.

I was a part of Dahlia House. 'Upright and Unbending'.