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Chapter Thirteen: Fur, Feathers and Friends

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547 Vende Dynasty (V.D.)

Summer sun gleamed against glass windows and stone steps, heating the mid-morning air. Aislyn perched on the wooden railing that enclosed the landing outside the girls' dormitory hall, idly kicking her legs and lifting closed eyes to savor the warm brightness. A small bag rested on the ground behind her.

Leaning back until she was nearly perpendicular to the railing, a thought struck her and she grinned. Masculine clothes, sitting on dirty wood, carrying a weapon in plain sight (even if it was only a dagger on her belt), going barefoot… If any of her old noble-lady friends could see her now, they would probably suffer a heart attack from the sheer horror of it all. She might be at a school for the higher class and noblefae, but keeping male company for hours on end had effectively curbed any ladylike behavior. The most feminine thing about her was her waist-length hair, held back by a thin red ribbon. For a noble lady of relatively high rank, she was being scandalously improper. It was glorious.

"Aislyn! I thought you'd already gone. I was about to take off, myself."

Aislyn barely caught herself from falling off at Dierdre's abrupt appearance, and quickly pulled herself upright. Dierdre fairly bounced over to the railing, sporting a traveling pack and an exultant grin.

"Another term over, and two weeks to celebrate and laze before they can torture us again."

Aislyn chuckled. "But did you hear? They say that Ayn was kicked out of the Enforcers for insubordination, and might be coming back here to teach."

Dierdre flung an arm across her brow, striking a dramatic, mock-serious pose. "Save us! The only thing worse than being her student would be taking orders from Ayl."

"Cheer up, Dre. The headmaster would probably sic her on students younger than us, unless she became an assistant combat instructor or something similar."

Dierdre stuck out her tongue in an uncharacteristically childish action. "That does not make me feel better, you know. Learning advanced combat from the likes of her is something to haunt my nightmares."

"You just didn't appreciate her conniving vindictiveness when you had the chance," Aislyn declared.

"I certainly appreciated its absence when she finally graduated, though." Dierdre paused, eyes narrowed against the sun, then pointed across the school's campus toward an approaching figure. "Hey, is that your escort, there?"

Aislyn shaded her eyes with her hand, following the direction of Dierdre's finger. When she focused on the man, a dazzling smile lit her face. Leaping the eight-foot drop from railing to ground without a second thought, she raced across the dirt with arms open wide.

"Arten!"

The taller man swept up her small frame and whirled her in a circle with an airy laugh. White hair made Dierdre think of ice and snow and cold, but his expression was warm as he returned Aislyn to the ground. She promptly grabbed his wrist and dragged him back toward the building, but he voiced no protests.

"Dierdre, I'm glad you waited. This is Arten. He's one of my father's assistants, and one of my good friends from home. Arten, Dierdre, one of my friends here."

Sharp blue eyes raked across her form, appraising. Dierdre leaned against the rail with her chin in her hand and raised an eyebrow coyly, ignoring the dangers latent in his gaze. The protective vibes he radiated in regards to his charge were so strong as to be quite amusing, especially since he didn't seem conscious of the fact.

"Do I pass?"

The corners of his lips quirked upwards slightly at the challenge. He shrugged, but she could read none of the thoughts within his mind.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Dierdre."

"And you, Arten." She inclined her head as a gesture of respect, acknowledging his greater age, power and experience.

"I should be going, though," she continued, looking at Ayslin. "My mother will be expecting me."

"All right. Have fun during Solstice!"

"Always," Dierdre laughed.

She leapt up onto the rail and hooked the short strap of her pack on one foot, crouching with arms outstretched and chin lifted high. The air around her blurred oddly for a moment, and then suddenly a great golden eagle with wings spread perched on the wood instead. The creature launched into the air with a triumphant cry and soared away to the east, clutching her pack in her talons.

Aislyn watched until the bird disappeared from sight, and sighed longingly. Arten glanced down at her.

"You're jealous?"

Aislyn climbed the step to retrieve her bag before answering, mostly to be able to look down at Arten again. She had grown a little over the past season, but he still surpassed her by a head. He remained where he was, facing the balustrade she had retreated behind while she sat cross-legged and let her forehead rest between two balusters.

"Dierdre has better mastery over her power than I do, and last season she graduated into the advanced magic division. Lesin doesn't even let us think about second form until we've reached advanced." Aislyn scowled at Arten. "He says I don't have enough control."

Arten raised his eyebrows at the statement, but made no comment.

"I don't have time to practice, between classes and weapons," Aislyn went on, her young features rearranging into a well-practiced pout. "And I know that if I had the chance, I'd be better than Dierdre ever could!"

"I have no doubt," Arten responded gravely, but the effect was ruined by the humor dancing in his eyes.

"Arten could you help me practice? I want to reach the advanced division by summer term, but I can't do it by myself. Please?" Aislyn consciously softened her features, subjecting Arten to the full power of her pleading expression. Arten shook his head resignedly, though the answer had always been and would always be, yes.

"Certainly, Aislyn. Are you ready to leave? Your father is anxious to see you."

Aislyn's mood immediately brightened. "I can't wait to get home!" She scrambled upright and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Four times a year is nowhere near often enough to visit."

"Indeed. We all miss you during your absences. Shall we?"

Arten bent over slightly in what seemed to be a queer sort of bow. A moment later a giant white-and-silver tiger padded forward in his place and yawned hugely, revealing an impressive set of sharp white teeth. Aislyn giggled and ruffled the fur between his ears, unafraid of the beast even though he stood as high as her shoulder. The great cat's eyes narrowed in response, but she paid him no mind and clambered up his back. Linking her arms around his neck, she rubbed her cheek against the soft fur.

"Riding on you almost makes up for not being able to change and having to be escorted home."

Arten's chuckle came out as a rumbling purr. "Almost, eh? I should throw you off just for that." The words were deeper and slightly distorted by the cat's mouth, but Aisyln had long been accustomed to deciphering such speech.

"Come on, Arten. Father is waiting. Let's run!"

Arten obligingly sprang forward in a flurry of fur and bunched muscles, and Aislyn's laughter drifted behind them as they raced away towards home.

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After several hours of uninterrupted travel, their journey finally came to an end. The Aire manor rested deep in the countryside, a fair distance from either neighbors or the nearest settlement. Arten loped through the open manor gateway and across the large courtyard, passing over the steps with a negligent jump.

Aislyn sprang from his back and barged inside, ignoring the smattering of retainers who, under normal circumstances, were in charge of visiting guests. Several hallways and a flight of stairs later, Aislyn burst through the doors to Lord Aire's study, knowing he would be nowhere else.

"Father!"

Aire immediately looked up from the mass of papers spread across his desk, and stood.

"Aislyn! Welcome home."

Aislyn darted into her father's waiting arms and buried her face in his chest. Finally, after weeks of stress, worry, and lies, she could feel safe. Not even Arten could comfort her as well as Aire's simple presence.

"I'm so glad to be home," she murmured, though the words were lost into muffled unintelligibility. Pulling back slightly, she gazed up anxiously at her father's face. "There hasn't been any trouble, has there? I'm not caught? You're still safe?"

Aire smiled. "Yes, ladybird; I learned how to conceal my affairs quite well before you were even born, remember?"

"Yes, father, I do," she replied with a small smile. He said that every time she asked about his welfare, which she had done every visit for the past year — ever since he had revealed to her the reasons why he knew the old, lost stories that could get Aislyn killed if she dared speak of them to a person like Dierdre.

"How are the others? What news?" Aislyn settled herself on the edge of Aire's desk and he returned to his chair.

"Everyone is the same as always, and send you their greetings. Nothing has changed." Aire sighed. "I am sorry to disappoint you still, little one, but you must understand that your youth has an impetus none of our fellows have. We began by waiting and watching, and have done so for too long. To inspire action from them will require a spark, I fear, beyond even what you possess."

"How will anything ever happen, then?" Aislyn demanded hotly. "What if nothing ever changes?" Aire looked at her in concern and she paused, realizing what she sounded like. She bit her lip and looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry, father. I… I'm worried. I don't know if I can keep pretending for so long at a time. It's only two more years at school, but it won't be over then." Tears glistened in her eyes, despite her best efforts to hold them back.

"I chose this role before I realized what it all meant, and I can't stop, and I don't know if it will ever end. I don't have a 'when' that I can tell myself that it will all be over by. And father," the tears were leaking now, "I'm afraid that I'll get so caught up in who I'm being that I'll forget what's true and what's false and who I actually am!"

Aire pulled Aislyn into his embrace, letting her release the tears and emotions that had been slowly building for the past few seasons.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry you have to follow this life."

Aislyn said nothing, her body shuddering as she silently cried.

Aislyn's breakdown didn't last long; soon she regained control and wiped her eyes. "'M sorry," she apologized again.

Aire placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her face upward to look at him. "You are so brave to do this, Aislyn. There is no need for an apology. I'm proud of you, and I believe in your abilities."

Aislyn responded with a half-hearted smile, but she was listening.

"I know that you will be able to end your façade someday, and you are strong enough to remain true to your beliefs, even if you can't always remember your reasons why. And I will always be here to support the young lady you truly are."

"Thank you, father," she whispered. They sat in silence for a short time, before Aislyn spoke again. "Could you tell me the stories again? I don't want to forget them, and become someone like Dierdre."

Aire nodded, familiar with the other Fae girl. "Fear not, child," he said with a smile. "Even should you forget all you know, your nature is incapable of holding such hate."

"I wonder why she does," Aislyn wondered, distracted by the thought. "She's never said, and I've never wanted to ask."

"There may be a reason," Aire conceded, "or there may not be. No one but she can answer that."

"I'll find out someday, I suppose. But please, the stories? They start to fade after a while."

"Let us begin with one tale, for now. We have time to remember them not all at once, and I believe you also have many other things to do ere the day ends. So, when the Creator had molded the world and placed our two races upon its surface, he charged us with the duty of peacefully co-existing. There were no difficulties at first, but as many years passed, jealously began to grow between them in regards to the other race's unique traits …"

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To her surprise, by the time Aislyn left Aire's study the day had already reached early evening. She barely had time to enter her room and unpack the few possessions she brought with her everywhere before the dinner bell summoned her to eat. Aire always took his meals in his study, but when she could Aislyn enjoyed eating with the manor's staff, most of whom she had known all of her life.

Everyone expressed their joy for her visit home, and the cook had even prepared a masterpiece of chocolate confectionary for dessert. The cook's daughter, Kari, had also returned home from her own school for the seasonal break, and the two friends spent most of the dinner relaxing, catching up with their lives, and indulging in a full-on gossip session. Aislyn enjoyed dinner so much that she forgot her earlier discussion with Arten, and looked up at him in surprise when he left his place at the table and came to loom behind her chair.

"Have you forgotten already? You asked me to train your magic. With only two weeks, I'm not about to waste even a day." He pulled her chair away from the table with her still in it, and extended a hand. "Come."

Aislyn bade the company farewell, and followed Arten through the rear gardens and a concealed passage in the walls to his preferred training grounds just outside the estate. Watching him, as he prowled around the perimeter of their clearing to ensure their safety and privacy, Aislyn briefly wondered if asking him for help had been such a good idea after all.

Arten was tall for a Fae, lean and intimidating. She had seen him demonstrate his skill in the past; his confidence was well deserved, because under any circumstances, Arten could be dangerous.

"Show my what you can do," he commanded, every inch the teacher. "We'll work from there."

Aislyn reached in her mind for the heart of her power, and drew it out. Deciding to humour his love of method and order, she began with the simplest of tricks and worked her way up through the more complicated exercises. When she finished, he gave her a curt nod.

"You do have talent, but Lesin is right. Your work is sloppy, you see?"

He raised a hand and mimicked Aislyn's performance, but each working was faster, smoother, and more precise. She watched, mesmerized, as the air seemed to dance under his command.

"To achieve this level of control, you must practice directing your power until manipulating it is second nature. When you truly master your potential, a simple work will seem no different than breathing."

"Like you?"

Arten gave her a small, tight smile that she couldn't interpret. "Similar, yes. Now, begin again, and focus. Work slowly."

For the next several hours, Arten worked Aislyn to exhaustion. Encroaching night failed to even garner a pause for her; Arten lit the three standing torches at the edges of the clearing as she practiced. Only when a miniature whirlwind began to waver did he relent and call a stop. With the last of her momentum gone Aislyn felt like she could barely move, and she shuffled over to lean against him, closing her eyes muttering about sadistic teachers sharing their teaching techniques. He made no reply, simply wrapping an arm around her shoulders to better guide her steps. In the end, he half-directed, half-carried her as he led her through the manor to her set of rooms.

"Good night, Aislyn. Pleasant dreams."

She smiled up at him, sleepily. Her brain was already starting to muddle, and ramble unselfconsciously to herself. He really was one of her best friends, even when he didn't listen to her tired complaints and completely depleted her energy reserves. Almost like the big brother she'd never had.

"Thanks, Arten. But next time, can it not hurt this much? Night."

She stumbled inside and shut the door behind her before he could formulate a response. As she put on her sleeping clothes, she could almost see his typical philosophical shrug that would have occurred in the pause before his steps retreated down the hallway.

Blessing whoever built the fire blazing in her fireplace, Aislyn collapsed into bed and curled up under several layers of blankets. Even during summer the nights were chilly, and Aislyn despised the cold.

"Two weeks of exhaustion," she mumbled around a yawn, already falling asleep. "I really hope this works."

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AN: Woohoo, a relatively fast update – it would have been even faster, if I had a consistent beta. Ah, well. Anyone interested in the job? More of Aislyn to come, because I'm currently fixated on her character and arc. Next chapter will have what happens back at school during autumn session, and might have Iris, too.

Two cameos for this chapter. I didn't even plan on bringing them in, either; they each showed up in the middle of a thought while I was writing and refused to go away.

For reviewers, I have this spiffy chocolate fountain to taste from. Please review, because I'd really like know what people think.

This note is also an addendum in the first chapter: The dates refer to two different dating systems, which correspond to the same year. The Terien Monarchy is the human calendar, and the Vende Dynasty is the Fae calendar. Which system is used depends on which civilization the scene takes place in. The dates are used for the purposes of keeping track of the passage of time as the characters grow up, since its awkward to try and insert ages everywhere. The first chapter began in TM 112 and 543 VD.

See you next time,

Ocianne

2/06

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