Alicia was unable to fully suppress her nerves as they traveled. It wasn’t just the presence of her step-mother, although that certainly didn’t help. But there was a part of her that couldn’t shake the fear that, perhaps, she wouldn’t Bloom at all; that she was just Wilted, and that she would just stand there during the ceremony and nothing would happen, and then she would go back home and nothing would change, or if anything it would all just get worse.
That was unlikely, of course. Commoners almost always Wilted, if they got the chance to Bloom at all, and for the lesser nobility it was often a toss-up whether or not they would Bloom, but as a rule of thumb it was less common the higher one’s peerage; it was uncommon for the children of an Earl, rare for those of a Marquess, and almost unheard of for a Duke. At the same time, the consequences of Wilting were more severe the higher one’s status, and it was not impossible; and that chance had kept her awake last night, and now she was both tired and nervous. Then to add to all that, there had been the business with the missing brooch, and in short she felt a bit of a mess.
Across from her, the Duke was taking the opportunity to look over some of the fief’s accounts; she recognized the signature brown paper that the reports came on. The Duchess, sitting next to him and with her back straight in perfect posture against the seat, was fanning herself gently and looking out at the fields and farmhouses that they were passing. The Duchess rarely spoke much on carriage rides, which Alicia counted as a small blessing.
She was aware that Lewis was speaking to her, and that he had been for quite some time. Vaguely, she was aware that he was talking about a battle that his tutor had taught him about the day before, and she maintained enough presence of mind to nod encouragingly at the right times. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she probably would have paid him more attention; he always seemed to enjoy his lessons so much and delighted in sharing them with her. In fairness, his lessons seemed to be far more interesting than her own, which seemed to consist of interminable lessons on etiquette, mathematics, and the least interesting parts of history.
Somehow, she couldn’t find it in herself to resent her little brother, no matter how hard she tried. It should have been easy, as he somehow seemed to escape the censure of his mother and received the lion’s share of attention from their father. Perhaps if he had been less kind, or less loving, or even less cute, she could have managed it. As it was, though, she merely envied him.
“But by then the Basarians had taken the fort, so Colonel Adivar knew that they wouldn’t be able to ford the river without taking heavy injuries from the cannons. It looked totally hopeless, don’t you see?” Lewis gestured as he spoke, one hand raised high and crashing down on the other to represent the artillery bombardment.
“Mmhmm,” she replied, nodding appropriately, and he launched off into a description of the next part of the battle. Strangely, her half-brother’s prattle did help calm her down some, as did touching the brooch that her maid had picked out for her. In a perverse way, she was somewhat glad that the Prince’s brooch had gone missing, since it brought to mind other things that she still didn’t feel comfortable with yet.
The coach provided a smooth ride, at least, and they made good time on their journey. After only half an hour of travel, the landscape transitioned from forests and fields to the builds that formed the outskirts of Bridgeford, the largest town in the Senius Dukedom. Once a small trading village on the river Rall, the presence of Bridgeford College and the increased trade with the neighboring country of Farcouis had grown it tremendously. The road took them along the line of mills along the river banks and . As they moved into the town proper, they passed the factories and refineries that all blended together into a sea of tall brick facades and a tangled mess of pipes and chimneys, all spewing steam and smoke into the air. Even through the smoked-glass windows, Alicia could hear the crash and rattle of the factory work. Her father probably knew what was made in every one of those buildings, as well as the tax that had been collected for the estate in the last year, but Alicia only knew that they were loud and had become an increasingly irritating sight when traveling in to town. Certainly, the sounds and the faint smell of burnt coal did nothing to help her anxiousness.
Soon they were past those, however, and through the streets with the boarding houses where the workmen lived with their families. Their destination was deeper into the town, where the college was located as well as the shops that catered to nobles and, importantly, the ancient cathedral. By the time the carriage came to a stop by the latter edifice, she could feel her breaths coming in short bursts, and she forced herself to calm down and present an appropriately noble appearance. It would not do for her step-mother—or worse, her father—to notice her fears. A few moments later, the footman opened the door to the coach and they emerged onto the street of Bridgeford.
The air smelled faintly of smoke from the factories downriver as well as burnt petunias from the steam that was vented out of the magnolic engine, the by-product of the thaumic reaction that powered the coach. She was tempted to stretch her arms up in the air like her younger brother was doing, but her dress was far too restrictive for that and, beside, she knew that it would not be proper behavior for a young lady.
The church was the largest structure in town, set apart from the other buildings on all sides by a spacious stone courtyard and with a steeple that dominated the skyline, above even the new factories. The church’s tall walls were made of the same limestone that the rest of the older structures, which had been quarried from the nearby rock centuries ago and had taken on a honey-gold color with time. Some of the newer buildings were also made of that same limestone, but their proximity to the factories had turned them an ashy gray instead, or else bricks imported from northern provinces.
“Your Graces, I hope that your journey was without incident?” Alicia turned to see the owner of the voice, a broad shouldered man wearing the flowing white robes of the priesthood. A silver circlet with a tulip carved from rubies rested on his curly gray hair and denoted him as a bishop. Following him was a young priestess who looked only a few years older than Alicia herself, wearing the unadorned copper circlet of an initiate.
“Naturally,” the Duke replied. “I’m aware that we have arrived somewhat ahead of schedule, Brother Hawkens. I trust it won’t cause you any issue to proceed with the rites regardless?” He had a way of asking a question that made it clear he was not really asking.
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“Of course not,” the bishop replied, smiling widely. The young priestess stayed behind him, seemingly intimidated by the presence of the nobles. Alicia stood up straight, letting her face relax into the cold expression of noblesse that she wore around those outside her family; it had been drilled into her by her step-mother, and in fairness it did work to keep commoners and lesser nobles from approaching too eagerly. She locked eyes with the young priestess and saw with some satisfaction that the other girl recoiled slightly, retreating further behind the priest.
“Then shall we proceed? I have some business to take care of after this,” her father said.
“Certainly, your Grace.” The bishop gave a short bow of his head, then made a gesture to the priestess. She scurried back and pulled open one of the heavy oak doors to the church, now using it as a shield between herself and the nobles. “If you’ll follow me.”
He turned and entered the church, his long robes billowing out behind him. The Duke followed, his stride as strong and confident as always, and then Lewis with his bouncing gait and the Duchess gracefully behind. Alicia only hesitated for a moment before proceeding; fear of tarnishing her image or, worse, that of her family allowed her to quash her fear of Wilting for the moment.
She had been in the main chapel a few times before; for Kingsday, for the Evenspring and Evenfall, and of course for the Allsaints ceremonies. There was a smaller church within the grounds of the Senius Estate, but while quite suitable for weekly services and minor holidays, it lacked the grandeur of the Bridgeford Chapel. Beside which, it was important for the Duke and his family to be seen attending the major holidays, both as an example to the commonfolk and as a show of their continued dedication to the church.
Long wooden pews filled the main chapel, stopping a few feet away from the elevated marble dias on which all the ceremonies would be conducted. Of course, there was a second level with more comfortable seating above them, where the nobility were able to attend without upsetting the commoners. The ceiling stretched up far above them, and the walls on either side that rose to meet it had large, elaborate windows of stained glass. When Alicia had attended the ceremonies before, these windows had always caught her attention; each one meticulously crafted into the image of a saint, and while the priest had droned on about the glory of the kingdom, she had surreptitiously tried to match each figure to the saint based on their clothing and the objects they were holding. At the back of the church, behind the dias, were nine stained glass windows set in a three by three pattern, each one representing an aspect of the Enneadic Divinity; at this time of day, the light streamed through them, casting a pale color on the pews.
“While it is a delight to see someone your age appreciating divinity, my lady, we are ready to perform the ceremony,” the priest said. Alicia flushed as she realized that her attention had drifted to the room. The Duchess gave her a look that almost made her flinch and she vowed to not lose focus again.
“Very well,” she responded. Now once more conscious of her step-mother’s gaze, she walked with the best posture she could manage toward the raised dias. Getting closer, she could see that a perfect circle had been constructed in clean chalk on the dark marble. Inscribed inside the circle were three even triangles, each one evenly offset from the other two to form a nine pointed star; she recognized it as a basic magnolic circuit, although her knowledge of circuitry was quite primitive. At the bishop’s gesture, she stood in the middle of the star. For a moment she considered facing her family, as was probably expected, but she decided against it, turning instead to watch the windows; particularly the one in the middle which held a stylized depiction of the sun and symbolized the Life aspect.
The bishop began to recite a prayer in Vishnic; Alicia had studied the language with her governess, of course, but even so she could only pick out one word in ten. She caught the words for ‘growth’, ‘blessing’, and of course ‘God’, but the man was speaking far too quickly for her to understand anything more. As this was happening, the young priestess had retrieved a silver platter containing nine thaumic flowers from the side of the dias. She placed a flower at each of the nine corners of the star. Although Alicia hadn’t seen that many of them in person before, these she had spent enough time studying them in her lessons to recognize instantly. There was a white tulip for Life, a pale rose for Energy, a brilliant yellow daffodil for Soul, and even a small white lotus for Fate. Each of the flowers was in prime condition; they had been brought in just for this ceremony, and each one seemed to pulse with a faint light that no daguerreotype plate was able to capture. Vaguely, she was aware that each of flowers would cost the average laborer several years of income, but there was some evidence to suggest that fresh thaumic petals were more likely to result in a successful Bloom than the stabilized extracts.
She knew what to do here, having been instructed by her governess, the Duchess, and having had to read several books on the process as well for good measure. Closing her eyes, she tried to reach out and feel the energy in the flowers around her. For one horrible, sickening moment, she was unable to feel anything but the tightness of the corset around her waist and the pounding of her heartbeat. In that moment, she watched a whole life unfold in front of her; one of disappointment, prejudice, and a canceled engagement. Her breath caught as the moment stretched out, and despite herself she was unable to stop a tear from forming.
Then, with a lurch that almost knocked her over, she felt something shift deep within her. Suddenly she was aware of nine points of light around her, pulsing with untapped energy. They almost seemed alive and thinking, and she could feel that six of the blooms were either indifferent or almost hostile to her presence. However, of the remaining three, there were two on her right that seemed drawn to her, and she was drawn to them in return. These two sat next to each other and seemed to beckon her to dance, to move, to sing at the top of her lungs and scream in frustration and run to her heart’s content. It was so much against what she had learned that there was a delight in it, and as she breathed in next she took in some of that energy as well.
Immediately, she felt any weariness from the day fade away. In that moment, she felt invincible, as if she could do anything she wanted, go anywhere. It was the most wondrous feeling that she had felt and she relished in it. There was a bright flash from beyond her closed eyelids and faintly she was aware of distant gasps, but she paid it little mind, too busy luxuriating in the newfound feelings of ability.
However, she couldn’t ignore the last bloom, which was sitting directly behind her. Where the other two felt energetic and playful, the energy of this last flower was quiet, calm, and contemplative; and yet, it felt so terribly, unbearably familiar, as if it ought to have been a part of her for her whole life and only now, in its presence, could she even realize that it had been absent--and even now it was still absent, separated from her by a few feet and her own hesitation. On her next breath, she focused on that calm energy and pulled.
In that time between breaths, ten thousand sensations and thoughts and memories erupted in her mind and soul and body. As a result, Alicia barely even noticed she was falling.