The Fearful Void - Part 10

With a relaxed sigh, Louise sank into the bath, her hair fanning out behind her in the water like a bridal veil. Staring up at the white marble ceiling of the communal baths, she let her mind go blank and let the heat sink into her muscles. Beside her, there was a faint splashing as Alma lowered herself into the water, her skinny body huddling up against Louise's. Most people didn't choose to bathe this early, which meant that the two of them practically had the entire girls' side to themselves.

Well. Today had been... interesting. Alma had mostly dozed through the other lessons in the morning. Louise was pathetically grateful that the little girl had been asleep when she had, once again, managed to ruin a simple clay-to-copper transmution spell. The clay had twisted spasmodically, writhed, and then detonated, splattering a fair amount of the classroom with dirt. That was another uniform which was in her washing pile. But it had almost been a golem, sort of, given it had shown signs of animation. So she had almost made a golem. Which was almost a success.

That didn't change that she had meant to be trying to turn the clay into copper, but that was a more minor point compared to her almost success.

Of course, in the afternoon, when everyone else was off 'getting to know their familiars', Louise had been looking after Alma, who seemed to be rather more awake after her naps. This had been a small issue, because Louise had been dozing off herself by then. That maid, Siesta, had been a godsend. She had found them, and it had been easy enough to leave Alma on the swing with the maid watching her so she could go hand that letter to her mother over to a courier. Which was another weight off her mind. She had returned to find Alma distressed, but that had ended as soon as she had shown up.

Which was a problem, Louise thought to herself, sinking deeper into the water and trying to pick a bit of clay out of her hair. The little girl got alarmed when she was separated from her. This was going to be difficult, if she couldn't do... well, anything without taking a seven - or maybe six, Louise still wasn't sure of her age - year old with her, that was going to be a real issue in the long run.

She glanced sideways at Alma, who was blowing bubbles. The little girl noticed Louise's attention, and smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth turning up.

Great. Now she was feeling guilty about feeling inconvenienced. "Come on," she told the little girl seriously, "let's get your hair washed properly, how about that? We can see if it looks better and less stringy with a proper clean." She paused. "Bath-hair," she tried, miming as best she could hair-washing.

Alma stared at her, and nodded, once. "Yes," she said. "Baath haeer yes."

By the time other people started to arrive, Alma's head was - save for her eyes and mouth - practically covered in lather, and Louise was trying to get the bubbles out of her nose from where the little girl had felt it was amusing to rub her head against Louise's face.

"No!" Louise warned, rubbing her nose to giggles from the girl. "No! That wasn't funny at all, Alma. Pyah. Yuck."

Alma chattered back in her own language, followed with more giggles.

"What's the matter?" Kirche von Zerbst said, the Germanian girl lazily paddling over from the other side of the large communal pool. "I didn't see you with the others, Zero; is that little pile of bubbles your familiar? Everything was very strange with you yesterday, you know that!"

Louise glared at the scion of her family's old rivals. The von Zerbsts were Germanian nobility who traced their ancestry back to the invading Germani tribes of a thousand years ago who had conquered the plague-ridden lands of Old Tristain, and in the last millennium the families of de la Valliére and von Zerbst had arisen and warred over territory, land, money and spouses. It was a matter of utmost honour to not be friendly with her.

Also, Kirche was decidedly amorous with the boys, and hot-headed - indeed, she was decidedly volatile, so it wasn't exactly hard for the rather more repressed and equally explosive youngest daughter of the de la Valliéres to argue with her.

"No, this is not my familiar," she retorted. "Because I, unlike you, have a sense of dignity and proper manners, and so I am not so desperate as to bind someone who is most probably a mage, which would be completely improper." She sniffed. "Meanwhile, well, again, because I have a sense of manners, I will not mention how desperate you are to roll onto your back for males."

Kirche grinned. "I'm giving you a... I'm going to call that a seven," she said, the darker-skinned girl stretching out to her full height. "Good defence, snappy comeback, but the use of the tired old 'Kirche isn't frigid' means of attack loses you points."

"When did you start grading such things!" Louise snapped.

"When did I start grading such things?" Kirche echoed. "I'm not sure. You know how dreadfully forgetful I am, apparently because all I can think about is men. Tabitha! You can remember things? When did I start grading the Zero on her insults?"

The other girl, even shorter than Louise with her pale blue hair in a page-boy cut sat on the edge of the pool, towel still on, feet dangling in the water. She was reading a book. "Just now," she said with a strong Gallian accent, not looking up from her book.

"Just now, apparently," the red-head said cheerfully. "Also, Tabby, you're going to have to wash some time, so you should probably put the book down. So, come on, Zero. Who's the little pile of bubbles who napped her way through most of the lessons this morning... really, I think she's onto a good thing there. She's actually pretty cute, you know."

Louise arched an eyebrow. "You. Evaluating cuteness?"

"Yep! She's tiny and petite. Just like you."

Louise muttered to herself, incoherent phrases of mild annoyance seeping out. To avoid having to answer, she turned to Alma, and went to try to help the girl get the bubbles out of her hair. Alma was staring at Kirche. Specifically, wide-eyed, she was staring at Kirche's chest. Her eyes went to Louise, then over to Tabitha, and then over to some of the other girls. And then back to Kirche. Her red-yellow gaze narrowed, and she said something in her native language which could only have been an empathic declaration from the tone and the way she crossed her arms over her own chest. "Yes?" she concluded.

Kirche worked her mouth. "What did she say?" she asked Louise.

The pink-haired girl shrugged. "I have no idea," she said honestly. "No one seems to understand her."

"Well, was a it a compliment?"

Louise pouted. "It was an insult, clearly," she said.

Kirche grinned. "I don't think it was, Valliére," she said, smirking. "Aww, wasn't that sweet of her, to be so kind?" she announced, rhetorically. "What a cute, innocent little girl, who has to put up with the mean Zero trying to misinterpret her words."

"Says you! She's never seen anything... anything so bloated in her life! And don't even think of trying to corrupt her!"

"But, no, seriously, really, you'll do well with her," the red-head said, smiling. "You have a lot in common with that little girl. You'll be able to look at the world from a similar perspective, for one."

"Oh, thank... wait." Louise scowled. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Not."

"I'm glad you liked it, my beloved rival, and..."

"Both didn't understand," Tabitha announced in Gallian-accented Tristainian, lying back with a flannel over her forehead and eyes. "Stop being loud."

There was a guttural chatter of words from Alma, still covered in bubbles, and she jabbed a finger at Kirche.

The older girl grinned, and moved in closer, sculling over while floating on her back. "I wonder if she's not used to people with skin like mine?" she said, cheerfully. "How old is she? I mean, she looks... maybe Albionese, maybe from the north of Gallia. I wonder if she's seen people with darker skin before? I mean, sheesh, Louise, she's as pale as you are. Or Tabitha."

"It's a sign of breeding and culture," the pink-haired girl said, archly.

"It's a sign that you don't get out in the sun enough," Kirche said. "All three of you. You and Tabby are either having headaches or reading... hey, know if she's a big reader too?"

"She can't speak the language, why would she be able to read it?"

Kirche turned over in the water, hair hanging wetly around her. "I can't speak Albionese, but I can read it," she said. "Bet you didn't even think to try it and... hey, um... do you know if she can swim?"

Panicked, Louise turned to see Alma's head underwater, a scum of bubbles floating from where she had slipped under away from the shallow edge and into the deeper parts of the bath. Sucking in a breath, she pushed off from the side, and managed to collide with Kirche, who had also gone to recover the little girl. Between the two of them, they pulled Alma back to the shallow seats at the edge of the bath, as the little girl spluttered water and clung to both their hands with a vice-like grip.

"Um," said Louise.

"Yes. Um," said Kirche.

"I shouldn't argue with you like this when I'm meant to be watching her. And I should have thought about the fact that she's small, and so even the bath is out of her depth."

Kirche nodded. "Yes. And... um, how do you get her to let go of your hand?"

"I'm not really sure. She is a bit... clingy." Louise paused. She might as well say it. "I get the feeling that whoever she was with before didn't treat her that well," she said, softly. "I had to treat some nasty bruises on her, like someone had grabbed her; you can just about see the fading bruises on her shoulders."

Kirche's eyes widened at the almost-gone greenish-yellow markings, now she looked for them. "I see," she said, sympathy in her voice. "That's... ouch." Shuffling up to sit next to Alma on the benches, she bought her around into a hug against her generous bosom. "She's rather pretty, you know," she said, softly, as Alma let go of Louise's hand, and clung on tightly to Kirche, squeezing her hard. The Germanian girl swallowed. "Look, Z... Louise," she said. "This probably isn't too fun for you, either, having to look after a little girl rather than having a familiar."

Louise nodded. "I'll cope," she said, softly. "They've assigned me a maid to help."

"Yeah, well." Kirche shrugged, feeling Alma tremble against her like a small animal. "I've got a little sister about her age, so if you want some help..." she trailed off. "Of course," she added, more cheerfully, "I'll still make fun of you when you do it. And point out that you're asking a von Zerbst for help. She's just cuter and more adorable than you, and me with my generous heart is just drawn to help."

Louise managed a smirk, though it felt forced. "You mean generous waistline," she corrected.

"The term is generous figure," Kirche said. "Honestly, I don't even speak Tristainian as my birth-tongue; it's a silly mistake for you of all people to make."

"Be quiet," Tabitha stated, to general agreement from the other girls in the bath. "Too much noise."