Sixth Chapter: Adrift
When Seiryah woke up the next morning and swung lazily out of her bed, she hit her foot on something hard. Curious, she pulled a small white box (nothing larger would have fit) out from underneath the bed. She opened the box…
And found about twenty white cards, edged in gold. On them was written something in fancy script. Unfortunately, she couldn't read it. However, from comparing the cards, she realized that they were all saying the exact same thing. She also found envelopes, decorated almost as nicely as the cards, each with two pairs of symbol groups… two words… on it. Those were probably names. Some had more than that on different lines mixed in with numbers, maybe addresses? It looked as if the person writing the addresses (herself?) had gone back to address the envelopes and stopped about halfway through.
Now, what would you send out in so many copies like this? An announcement? Invitations?
Hmm… maybe I'll ask Liris.
Liris was still at work… she had the night shift at the hospital she was working at, and that hadn't changed just because Seiryah was up and about, although Liris had said that she was going to try and get her schedule changed. So, she had about two hours to kill before Liris got home, and not much to do. She knew how to operate the television, although the device didn't interest her that much. Most of the other entertainment in the apartment required the ability to read, and she didn't really feel very comfortable going around in the foreign city all alone…
Ring… ring…
Seiryah started, her hands going for a weapon, before she remembered that that sound meant that the phone was ringing. She picked up the receiver and asked, "Hello? May I ask who is calling?" with a fair amount of confidence, although she knew that this invention would take some time getting used to. Her own disembodied voice, she had no problems with. Hearing other people in the same manner… well, that was just a bit freaky…
"No need to be so formal, Seiryah," Vanyel replied cheerily.
"Vanyel!" she said, relieved that it was a voice she at least recognized. And from the side of the family that wasn't possibly plotting to kill her. "Good to talk to you again! How are you?"
"Probably better than you are," he teased. "How are you coping?"
"…everything's a bit overwhelming," she replied honestly. "So… any reason that you're calling?"
"Hmm… still to the point I see. Would you and Liris mind if I came over and took you away for a few hours? You did promise that you would learn the traditions of both your families…"
"What traditions, exactly?" Seiryah asked, feeling a bit suspicious.
Vanyel sighed over the line. "Why me?" he muttered. "Why always me…?"
"Vanyel?"
He sighed again. "Have you noticed anything… odd… about yourself, Seiryah? Anything different from other people?"
Is he talking about my Spirit magic? How can he know…? "Well, I have amnesia, and this really huge burn scar on my back…" she started sarcastically.
"Um… no. What I'm talking about is… magic. Y'see… a certain type of magic, spirit magic, is very common in our family."
"Magic," Seiryah said, trying to invest as much scorn into the word as possible. Vanyel sighed at the other end of the line, clearly getting annoyed.
"Whether you believe it or not, it's the truth, Seiryah. Before the accident, you were one of the strongest of our line… and if I don't get you re-trained soon, my mother will have my head. I'm rather fond of it on my shoulders, thank you."
Now it was Seiryah's turn to sigh. "Very well. Liris isn't home now, so if you're going to pick me up 'as soon as possible', you're going to need to write her a note."
"Huh? Why can't you… oh. Right. Sorry, stupid question…" They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Vanyel hung up. Seiryah walked over to the sofa and threw herself on it.
How was she going to bs knowing anything about her magic with someone who had probably been training himself since he was a toddler?
Geldoblame followed his new ally through an impossibly large city, teeming with people and filled with enormous buildings that seemed to rake at the Sky itself. He absorbed everything he saw, envisioning the buildings cast in gold, of a towering golden Mintaka that would loom large over the new world that would be his when he was restored to a body again. His strange ally had told him that it would be impossible to restore his old body, but that he could have a new one, a better one. Not one with claws or a tail, as he had seen a few part animal… sub-humans as they progressed to their destination. His ally assured him that he would not have to suffer the indignity of coming back from the beyond as a Yena.
They eventually arrived at a smaller building, where he floated in behind his ally. The man entered the gloom, filled with what Geldoblame thought might be incense as if he had been here before several times. Perhaps he had been.
"I need to speak with Misana," Geldoblame's ally said curtly to a woman behind the desk.
"Hmm… she doesn't usually take customers this early. But… if you made it worth my while…"
The man sighed in exasperation and tossed a few slips of off-white paper marked with green ink on the woman's desk. The simpleton's eyes bulged, and without another word she pressed a button on her desk. There was a buzzing sound, and a door on the far left opened, revealing a staircase.
"Very nicely handled," Geldoblame commented, impressed.
"Money may not be the answer to every problem one encounters, but it always helps," the other man replied, shrugging his shoulders in a mock display of modesty as they started up the staircase.
"Who is this 'Misana'?" Geldoblame asked, curious.
"To the general public, she's a prostitute, and runs this brothel. Both those things are true, however she also is the head of the Necromancer's Guild, and can probably point us to someone who might be willing to resurrect you." And, in answer to his unasked question, the man added, "Necromancy is outlawed in Misel, and most other countries on the continent of Ohanel. Whenever they do organize, it's necessary for the leaders to be hidden, in a way."
"Like hiding the fact that you're a murderer by claiming to be a thief." Geldoblame would have nodded and smiled, if he'd had a body. Women were rarely what they appeared to be on the surface. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. They reached a doorway, and Geldoblame's ally ducked through the expensive satin curtain and walked confidently into the room…
Stretched out on a low couch was a woman, dressed in some sort of traditional robes. She appeared to be in her late thirties, early forties. Even though the lines of age were slowly beginning to creep upon her features, it was clear that she had been very beautiful as a young woman. Even now, she was still pleasing to the eye.
"Hmm, a visitor so early? What brings the likes of you to this section of town?" she asked, her smile both teasing and seductive.
"Business, sadly. I was wondering if you could help me with a matter of someone who desires… a second chance, shall we say."
Cerulean eyes narrowed as the woman focused on the spot in the air where Geldoblame hovered. "What a vile spirit. Lived a sinful and nasty life, didn't you? And traveled a good way to get here, you don't feel like a spirit of this world."
Much as he wanted to tell the woman to watch her mouth, he kept silent. He knew that this woman currently held power over whether or not he got a new body, and so prudently refrained from putting her in her place.
Besides, once he had his body, there would be plenty of time to kill her.
"Well, although I myself do not have the skills necessary to attempt a resurrection of this type, I do know of a few in the city who can." She got up and glided over to a filing cabinet, painted red and gold to match the rest of the room, and pulled out three files, handing them to the man Geldoblame was allied with. "Any of them could do this, however, the trick would be providing a living body…" she eyed him critically, "…not that that would be any problem for you… and convincing them that they actually want to do this. I would recommend Brightly, personally. He may be the weakest of those three, but not by much, and he's more open to suggestions backed with green. The other two are moral to the point of fault."
"…hmm… what?" He dropped two of the files, staring at the third as if he had just found unexpected gold. "This person…?"
Curiosity piqued, Misana leaned over his shoulder to see which one he had picked. "That one!" she hissed indignantly. "You just chose the most stubborn and righteous necromancer I have ever encountered!" she cried, spitting out the words 'stubborn' and 'righteous' like curses. "That one only… only!... uses the magic to lay the dead to rest. You approach with that spirit in tow, and you'll be lucky if the 'fun' just stops with him being sent back to the netherworld! If you ask that infuriating brat for a resurrection, you will be turned in, and I doubt that even you could shake off a charge of trafficking in unsanctioned sorcery!"
Instead of calling down the woman for her insolence, the man just laughed. Geldoblame made a mental note of this. Prostitute or not, apparently being head of the Necromancer's Guild gave this Misana a lot of power. "Beautiful Misana, it's simply a matter of putting the right information on the table. I happen to know this… necromancer…" he shook his head as if he could not believe it. "…in passing, and I can assure you, this is a gullible and naïve fool we are dealing with."
"…perhaps, but not stupid. You may be able to hoodwink this one, but once your lie is uncovered..." Misana shuddered. "Quite frankly, the brat's a vindictive bastard once pissed. Even I am truthful with the vile little..."
"Really? I thought that was an honor reserved for me…"
Misana snorted. "It's an honor reserved for intelligent people who are perfectly capable of taking me apart if I piss them off. If you are so convinced to go on a fool's errand, be my guest. Take the file with you. My treat."
Seiryah was gawking. She knew she was gawking. But she couldn't help it. Liris had mentioned the Old City once, in passing, but nothing had prepared her for the dramatic change in… well, everything.
For starters, it was quiet. Oh, there was still plenty of noise, but it wasn't the positively frantic din of the city as too many people packed into too little space tried to navigate the congested streets, there were no blaring horns, no sirens, no shouting of people trying to be heard over the bustle, no street merchants hawking their wares…
Everything was… peaceful. The houses were actually pleasing to look at, the architecture reminding her a little bit of Sheliak, because almost everything seemed to be made of wood or stone. The buildings were a decent height, not so tall that she felt her next beginning to hurt when she tried to see the tops. In short, it was the only place in this world that felt anything like home.
"The king's castle is even more impressive," Vanyel teased her. She blushed a bit, slightly humiliated at being caught staring. "And… ah, here we are. Home sweet home. Not that you remember, but I'm sure you'll still love it here.
The building complex that they were pulling into was markedly different than the others. These were generally no taller than three stories, wood instead of stone. The architecture was also dramatically different, even though the roofs still came to a peak, they were… rounded… at that peak, and there was ornamentation at the corners. The gardens seemed to contain several of the same type of tree, all the bushes had a distinctly ornamental feel. Of course, all the gardens she had seen on the wealthy houses had an ornamental feel, but this was different, and… well… she didn't have the words to describe it, it was so utterly alien from everything she had encountered before.
And yet at the same time, oddly comforting. Maybe Vanyel was right. Maybe this was ho…
It was night, in that very same garden. Nothing seemed to have changed but the season, the trees were adorned with hundreds of pink flower blossoms, and many of the other plants in the garden had put forth colorful flowers. Everything had a… fuzzy quality to it, like a picture just slightly out of focus, or a memory that was beginning to fade.
A young girl, nine or maybe ten, stared up at the stars. She was biting her lip, clearly nervous, her silver eyes open too wide, as if she'd had a nightmare. She was dressed in nothing but a white, unadorned nightgown, although she didn't appear to be cold.
A door slid open, and another girl walked out. She appeared to be fourteen or fifteen, black hair falling like a veil down to her waist.
"What's wrong, Seirie? Couldn't sleep?" asked the older girl, sitting next to the younger Seiryah in the grass.
The child nodded, her close-cropped red hair bouncing as she did so. "I'm worried, Crysta. Everyone's talking about the war, and Aunt Mel has been all broody and snappy and Vanyel won't talk to anyone… something happened to Uncle Rhyden, I know it did…"
The black haired teen said nothing, but her lips thinned and her silver eyes turned inward. "Seirie. This is probably the worst possible time to tell you this, but since no one else will… Seiryah, there was a… an accident…"
"Yo, Seiryah? You okay?" Vanyel asked, looking concerned.
"Um… fine. Just… fine. So, lets get to this training of yours, and then, can we see some more of the old city? Can we?" she asked.
Vanyel smiled slowly. "I was afraid you were going to make me spend all day teaching you…" he sounded relieved. "There was actually a place that a friend of mine wanted to show me. I guess you could come along… but, sadly, we have to do some training before we go anywhere, because my mom will skin us both alive if we don't get at least some training done."
A knock on the door of her new temporary bedroom startled Melodia so badly that she almost upset the inkwell. And, although she would love nothing more for her massive pile of paperwork to be thinned out, doing it in that manner would only cause her a massive headache.
"Enter," she said curtly. A nervous maid, one of the newly hired ones who were a little afraid of her, walked hesitantly in.
"U-um, there's an envoy from Alfard waiting for you in the audience chamber, Milady. They're petitioning for spare soldiers. I… didn't get the exact details."
Melodia bit her lip. If the people of Alfard had unbent enough to send an emissary for help, than whatever was going on in the war-torn country was probably pretty serious. And, no doubt, entirely her fault. "Where is Natasha? Doesn't she normally handle these things?" Natasha was in charge of all the household servants, and she was the one who winnowed the many petitioners who came to Calbren Manor, only allowing those who actually needed an audience to see herself or her grandfather.
"Natasha is currently indisposed, Milady. I believe she ate something this morning that disagreed with her."
Melodia blinked, worries of poisoning coming immediately to mind, but she shoved them aside. Just because someone had tried to assassinate her three days ago didn't mean that everyone who fell ill in the household was victim of an attempt that had missed its target…
Still, the timing bothered her.
"I'll see Alfard's envoy immediately. And make sure Natasha has a doctor come in to look at her. We can't afford to lose her in the middle of all this."
The maid's lips quirked into what might have been a smile. "I'll be sure to tell her that, Milady." And with that, the maid left, and Melodia sighed. An envoy from Alfard. My, this was going to be… unpleasant.
So, any particular favorite for Alfard's messenger? I'm leaning towards Vallye personally.
I'm sorry that this chapter wasn't longer. I had a fight with my mom, and it killed my urge to write.
Next Chapter: Melodia hears Alfard's message, Seiryah gets a lesson in magic... and other things. There's always something else…