A/N: Well, here's part two, faster than I'd expected to finish it. Thank you very much my one and only reviewer SandietheMafioso for your wonderful comments! :D This chapter is dedicated to you. Any others who are reading this: PLEASE REVIEW. I am a writer. I love beyond anything to know that my work was enjoyed, or at least read. Please drop me a line. I'd appreciate it greatly.

By the Burning River

Part Two

It seemed I had hardly closed my eyes before there was an insistent knock at my door, shaking me from my sleep with a harsh rap. I opened my eyes slowly, allowing the filtered light shining weakly through the sheer curtains to wash over me. From outside the window I could hear the few mournful cries of a far off owl, one of the few birds who had not either flown south or taken shelter where the bitter morning cold could not reach them. The sound of it was muffled, but it woke as surely as the knocking ,which was by now somewhat louder.

"Anafiel?"

It was Trémont's clear tones, somewhat ragged still with sleep. I called him in after pulling on a pair of breeches, and he stepped through the door, wearing his clothes from the day before. The slightly colder air form the hall wafted in, and I shivered, reaching for a shirt with which to cover my bare chest.

Trémont ginned apologetically, pulling the chair from the desk by my bed and sitting slowly.

"How was your time last night?" he asked, no doubt noticing the dark rings of fatigue under my eyes.

"It was marvelous," I said. "I've never known anything like it."

"So I suppose you will be staying then?"

I looked up from lacing my shirt, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"There's a problem at Montrève." His face was suddenly grave, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Father and I are returning after noon."

I felt a chill pass over me, as if Death itself had laid a hand on my neck.

"What is it? What happened?"

"There was a fire, the night after we left. One of the stable lads knocked over a lantern in the barn and the whole thing went up like a torch."

"Is Mother---?"

"She's fine," he assured me, raising one hand. "The house was, blessedly, untouched. The lad has a few nasty burns, but he will live." He paused, and sighed, raking the raised hand through his blonde curls. "Father and I, as I already said, will be leaving as soon as possible. But you are not required to come as well, if you wish to stay with Galienne until after the Longest Night."

"Of course I'll come!" I burst out, feeling my throat tighten. If the fire had spread a little further… "How could I not? My home needs me!"

Trémont shook his head.

"Not necessarily." He hesitated, and I thought I saw a sadness in his eyes, almost bitter in its intensity.

"Anafiel," he began again after a moment of silence. "This could be your only chance to ever know this life. Who knows when you will get that opportunity again, so why waste it when there really is no reason for you to leave?"

"Because my family and my home are in need and I must assist them!"

"Anafiel." Trémont's voice had gone suddenly hard. "If you will not do this for yourself, then do it for me. I am Father's oldest son and it is my duty to be the heir of Montrève, whether it is my will or not to do so. These burdens do not concern you, nor will they ever, and if I cannot spend my life in study and the search for knowledge, then will you not do the same in my stead?"

I had never heard my brother say such to me before. Of course I was not so stupid as to think such a pain did not ail him, but I had never known to what extent its grasping fingers clawed at his heart.

"But surely you will not give up your love of lore and study altogether?" I protested, thought somewhere inside me I knew it to be in vain. "Surely your time can be shared between your love and your duty?"

"It is what I must do to fully care for Montrève when Father is gone. And besides, it was not my wish to stay locked away with my books forever."

"The University of Tiberium," I said softly, watching as his face morphed at my words. "You wished to go there."

"Yes," he conceded, looking more forlorn than ever I had seen him. "Yes, that was my reason, though there was more to it than that."

"How so?"

For a moment it seemed he would not tell me, then suddenly he sat forward, his hands clasped tightly between his knees.

"When I went to Elua with Father last year, I met a young scholar, who had many the same interests as I. We…we became close."

"What was her name?" I asked softly, and he sighed.

"Janelis…Janelis d'Ilameurre. She had been an adept of the Eglantine house, though her marque was newly completed. It was her wish to attend at the University of Tiberum, and though I didn't know much of it then, she was quick to inform me." A glimmer came to his eyes, as if he were seeing something beautiful that I could not. "I have not heard aught of any place more wonderful than that, Anafiel. I cannot begin to put into words how dearly a toll this unwanted duty exacts from me. Perhaps, in time, I could have recovered from its loss, but to never again set eyes upon Janelis…" Here his voice began to tremble, and the hands between his knees were pinched white with tension.

"That, Anafiel. That pain I will never be free of."

I knew Trémont as a man to not overtly express his emotions. To have him suddenly lay before me all his pain and anxiety was something that could not have been prepared for. I somehow found myself at his side, and I lay a hand on his shoulder, trying in vain to give some form of comfort. He merely leaned into my touch, but offered no words to assuage my fears.

After a time I sat beside him, tugging absentmindedly at the strings on my loose cotton shirt.

"If it is your wish for me to do these things in your stead, then I shall," I said quietly. My voice seemed to be swallowed up by the close, dim air of the room, the sounds evaporating as they left my lips. "I have done little in the past to aid you, even in the smallest of fashions. Why should I deny you your last request, as it were."

"No." Trémont was suddenly on his feet, his face like thunder, shaking off my touch angrily. "No, Anafiel. I will not damn another with the same affliction that haunts me. If you will do this, do it not out of guilt. I ask this of you only because I know that while we do not share many things, our love of knowledge and learning is one thing in which we are similar. Do this only if Tiberium is where you would go, not for any other reason."

"It is," I said, trying to show him just how adamant I was. "I do not know much of it, but if it has stolen your heart so, then it cannot be a horrible place."

He looked up at me, raising his bowed head.

"So you would go?"

I nodded. "I would go."

Before I could stop him he was on his feet, his strong arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace, fair crushing me against his chest.

"Thank-you, Anafiel," he whispered fiercely into my neck. "Thank you."

After a long moment he released me, moving away with a warm smile. I returned it, laughing softly.

"And be sure, brother, if I meet this fair maiden of yours, I will tell her she is still foremost in your thoughts."

"Then you do me a greater service than you know."

With that, he gathered himself, throwing me one last grin. "And so we must part, brother," he said. "I will bear the brunt of Mother's fury for you, so you must send word whenever you can. Tell me everything that happens, important or no, for remember you are living my life, so I would wish to know every detail of it. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

I stepped forward, enveloping him in another crushing hug, kissing his cheeks affectionately.

"Farewell, Trémont," I whispered.

He sighed into my hair, his hands tightening on my shoulders.

"Farewell, Anafiel."

And then he was gone.

Arquis was waiting for me in Galienne's receiving room when I appeared downstairs in my loose cotton shirt and breeches. He stood as I entered, resplendent in dark maroon velvet and silver brocade, his full lips spread in a welcoming smile.

"Good morning, Anafiel," he said, reaching for a platter laden with honey-cakes and fresh fruit. "Galienne bade me have this ready for you."

I raised my hand in negation.

"I'm grateful for her thoughtfulness, but I'm afraid my appetite has already been sated." I raised my other hand, showing him the half-eaten apple that I'd taken from the bowl at my bed.

Arquis laughed.

"I fear you'll need much more than that." His deep green eyes were sparkling with something akin to mischief. "You have quite a day ahead of you if I'm not mistaken."

"How so?"

"Galienne has many things planned for today now that Viell and Trémont have departed." He stepped forward and put the silver platter firmly in my hands. "Now eat. Gallienne will have my hide if you do not."

I laughed, tossing a grape into my mouth, chewing it thoughtfully, and took a seat on the same day-bed Galienne had the night before.

"Where is Galienne, if I may ask?"

"She is with a potential patron," Arquis replied. "One of the new adepts is quite a specimen, and has a wide range of admirers."

"Ah, I see." Of course, I did not.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between us, until we heard a peal of laughter, and Gallienne herself burst through the door, a tall, shockingly red-haired man behind her.

"Of course, Vétan, why would I lie to you? You're my most honored patron…Oh! Anafiel! You've finally decided to grace us with your lovely face." She planted a swift kiss on my cheek. "Why haven't you eaten? Are you unwell?"

"No, of course not," I reassured her. "I am simply not hungry."

She laughed. "Well, be sure, your stomach will tell a different story soon enough. Now," she turned to the man, her periwinkle skirts swirling. "Vétan, I assure you that you'll not have long to wait. Salomé is near to dropping dead from all her assignations, and it would not do at all to have her unfit for your assignation, now would it? But she will be rested and well again soon enough."

He smiled, though it was not a genial one. It made an uncomfortable shudder work through me.

"I'll take your word, Galienne," he said softly, then bowing to us he left the room. Once he was safely out of earshot, Galienne released a shaking breath.

"I fear for that poor girl," she said. "I truly do. She cares not for what patrons she takes, as long as their patron gift fills her purse and brings her closer to a completed marque."

I, somewhat thunderstruck, could not believe her words.

"Surely you have some discretion in which patrons she chooses?" I demanded, horrified at the thought of being at the whim of someone as potentially dangerous as Vétan, especially in that fashion. The cruel possibilities were too vicious to imagine.

Galienne sat heavily in my vacated seat, her perfect face marred by a frightful grimace.

"To a certain degree," she sighed. "Unless the patron is openly hostile or violent towards an adept or myself, I have no right to refuse them. Only the adept may do that."

"So if this Salomé throws herself willingly at someone like Vétan, who you know could possibly do her grievous harm, you can say nothing to stop her?"

"No. I cannot."

I could hardly believe it. Closed away in Montrève, I'd been only given a taste of the activities of Elua's devoted people. My mother's stories could hardly have prepared me for the frightening, though beautiful reality I was now forced to face. True, to be a servant of Naamah was indeed something that Elua and its surrounding provinces valued and respected, but while there were those glad beyond measure to be counted among those of the Night Court, there too were some who despised it, and took their patrons only to quicker gain their freedom. This Salomé was clearly one of the second ilk, and I pitied her more than ever I had pitied anything else in my life. To be forced into something you loathed…I could not imagine it.

Our solemn conversation certainly put a damper on the once bright morning, but before long Galienne had me dressed in my attire from the night before, and her, Arquis and myself took the house carriage into the city, where Galienne at once set herself to plying me with clothes of every cut, colour and fit. We entered first the small, elegant shop of Kolève nó Eglantine, a once adept of Eglantine house who had made his fortune as the most sought after tailor and clothier in Elua. His warm olive eyes looked me up and down, and he laughed, motioning for his bevy of assistants to begin their measurements.

"One of your kin, Galienne, unless I'm mistaken," he said, and leaned in closer to me. "You have your mother's eyes, boy, but you're Viell's son no doubt."

Galienne watched us both from her position by the large oval mirror, and I saw the corners of her full mouth lift in a smile.

"Enough talk," she said. "I'm paying you by the hour, Kolève. He had better look like Prince Rolande himself when you are done."

"Ah, no worries," the older man said. "I have a great deal in mind for young Anafiel."

With that the assistants set to again, and before long we were on our way, told to return later in the day for the finished garments. We moved on next to the baths, where a young girl, whose name I never did learn, slicked me in oil, and with hands I was sure were blessed by Elua himself began massaging me, starting first at the nape of my neck and moving slowly and surely down to my toes. By the end of it I felt as if in that short time all my limbs had been replaced by butter, and veritably fell into the hot water for my final soaking, which, completely by accident, pulled Arquis in with me, much to the Second's displeasure. Once I was dried and dressed we departed for lunch, and by an hour past noontime we were on our way again.

Later in the evening we stopped to retrieve my newly made clothes, which were quite beautiful if I may add, then began the journey back to Camellia House. Much to my surprise, we stopped instead in front of an unfamiliar building on our way up Mont Nuit, whereupon Galienne gathered her skirts and exited the carriage.

"I'm sorry to be leaving you now, Anafiel," she apologized. "I have already arranged a meeting with dear Cecilie, and I cannot keep her waiting. Arquis will return with you to the House, but I will most likely not arrive until very late." She kissed me chastely on the cheek. "Again, I am truly sorry."

"That is quite all right," I assured her with a smile. "I'm sure I'll find something with which to engage my time tonight."

I waved her away, and she disappeared into the House, her voice raised in joyful greeting. The carriage jolted forward, and soon Arquis and I were entering Camellia House, where he stopped me with a light touch at my elbow.

"If it pleases you, Galienne's library is just down that hall," he said, pointing down the faintly lit corridor. "You may spend your evening there undisturbed."

I thanked him profusely, and very nearly ran to where he had pointed, exuberant and ready to absorb the knowledge held safe in her no doubt large multitude of texts.

It is safe to say that I was not disappointed.

I think it is also safe to assume that any who bear the blood of Delaunay have a love of lore and knowledge, and Galienne was no exception. Though smaller than the cavernous collection in Montrève, Galienne's library was by far not lacking in any of the things which would ultimately endear it to me indefinitely. I scanned the multiple stacks with reverent awe, my finger sliding noiselessly over the leathery spines and gilded titles, now and again slipping one from its fellows and adding it to the growing pile in my arms. Quite quickly I was forced to deposit them on a nearby desk, and immediately began plumbing their uninvestigated depths. I was thrilled to find the exact tome Jolet D'Antremont had recommended to me on D'Angeline poetry, most of which was somewhat bawdy in nature, although quite lovely besides. A text on the history of the University of Tiberium also revealed itself to me, and by the time my candle was drowning in its own fluids I was quite assured that going there in Trémont's stead would most definitely not be something worth regretting.

Suitably sated, I retired then to my rooms (though I did bring the poetry for some early morning reading) and sorted through my array of new garments.

Kolève had indeed outdone himself I thought, running my hands over the soft, silvery material of my new doublet. I now had five sets of breeches, of varying browns, tans, and whites; a handful of silk shirts chased with gold and silver brocade; a long, fitted jacket of rich saffron with delicate silver buttons and crimson embroidery around the cuffs and collar; and much more besides. There were three especially tailored outfits for fetes and other grand occasions, and while Kolève nó Eglantine would divulge no details about my promised attire for the Longest Night, Galienne had told me over lunch that it would be not only elaborate and rich in detail, but more beautiful than anything I had been privileged to wear. Thus with my clothing needs secured, I was eager now to attend the fetes I had been promised, to meet the peerage and absorb the lore of Elua.

But that would have to wait until morning. Already my eyes were drooping, and I felt the weariness of the day's many events catching up on me, despite my heavenly massage, and I began undressing, shedding the fancy silks in favor of a pair of loose fitting trousers.

I was passing by the large window, clothing in hand, when a cry from the street below caught my ear. I leaned out the half-opened casement, the chill breeze stirring my hair, and spotted a small crowd of men exiting one of the other Houses, laughing and singing. The group of them hovered around one man, who seemed to be their leader of sorts, and joined in his exultant chorus, the words of which were quite clear to my ears and made me blush crimson.

"Ho! Friend!" The leader had spotted me, and he raised his arms, making a rather ridiculous bow with much hand twirling and unnecessary flourishes. "Perchance we will stop in Camellia House tonight my companions!" he cried to the other men, then turned once again to me. "What be your name, fair angel, so I might ask after your amorous attentions?"

I laughed, blushing harder.

"I am no adept, but my name is Delaunay, should you care to know."

"Ah!" the man moaned, staggering dramatically, one hand over his breast. "Must I go on not knowing your name in full? Let it grace my ears, fair angel, so I may whisper it in fond dreams!"

His companions laughed, and I truly began to wonder if my face could become any hotter. I leaned further out the window, and shivered slightly, the breeze chilling my bared chest.

"Then tell me yours first, drunken sir," I said imperiously, "so I may spurn you and your bold words."

"Ah!" he moaned again, taking another unsteady step, and I wondered if it were more due to overzealous drinking, rather than drama. "You wound me with your cruel tongue!"

"You deserve every barb," one of his fellows laughed, clapping him on the back. "Leave your "fair angel" to his sleep, for you have obviously disturbed it."

"If I must," he assented. "But tell me, fair angel, will you grace the halls of Cereus for the Midwinter Masque?"

I considered denying it, but only for a moment. I felt a reckless jolt surge through me, and I laughed, batting my eye-lashes coyly.

"Indeed I will," I said. "But best of luck in finding me. That will be the true test."

"Until then, my fairest angel." He bowed again, though with considerably less flourish. "Until then." With a flick of his hand, they were moving again, though they kept their voices low now, and I retreated back into my room, closing the window on their jubilant calls.

I was still flushed, though more now from the cold rather than embarrassment, and I greeted the warmed cotton sheets with a sigh, exhaustion once again rearing its head. Elua is indeed a strange and marvelous city, I thought, thinking of my drunken admirer, What other encounters are in store for me here?

Disobeying the siren call of sleep, I retrieved my book, and soon I was deep into the lyrical pages, thinking idly of the Longest Night and what surprises might be found behind a glittering half-mask.

End Part 2