Ceyda took a deep breath, and then another. She was trying to stop the crying.
So, I think it’s safe to say, it’s all bullshit, and just a lot of bad lying and misconstruing. It’s not like anyone’s accusing you of trying to sleep with Natalia despite spending the day with her as well.
“Natalia’s a girl, Doc,” Ceyda corrected.
...you know that women are capable of having sex with women, right?
Ceyda’s eyes bulged out. “Wait, really? All this time?”
...what do you mean all this time?
“All this time I could have been kissing girls?” Ceyda asked.
Uh. Yes. Is that something… you want to do?
“I’ve been bamboozled,” Ceyda whispered. “And here I thought men were my only option.”
Would you… prefer to kiss girls, Ceyda?
“Doc, I just said I never kissed one before. How would I know?” Ceyda asked, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She knew there were some miscommunications, but she felt like she had been pretty clear there.
All righty. Noted. Duly. None of this is too relevant, I just wanted to bring up a point of how it’s weird that you were only accused of flirting with men, but now I see there might have been, uh, other factors at play. Guess society’s a bit more weird about that nowadays. Awesome. Good future.
Anyway, down the list. Merlin lied about you flirting, or someone else lied. Lyle and Aster lied about you sleeping with them, or at least someone else lied.
“Only Aster,” Ceyda corrected.
What do you mean?
“Well, I did have sex with Lyle, so that’s not really a lie,” Ceyda replied.
...I’m sorry please explain when and where this happened because I am. Very confused.
Ceyda shrugged. “Last night. That’s why he slept over in the barn? We had sex?”
I’ve got about, fifty questions on me right now, so I’m just going to uh, try and not scream and explode all at once.
Ceyda frowned and shrunk a bit. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
So, first, please explain to me how the two of you communicated your interests in having sex. Down to the words used.
Ceyda shifted slightly. She hadn’t expected an interrogation on this. She sniffed away some of the last bit of mucus, and searched her memory.
“We were talking about magic, I explained the schools, he sat on my bed, we cuddled for a bit, and then he kissed me and so we had sex,” she explained dully. “There wasn’t a lot of talking about it.”
It’s unfortunate I can’t write silences. I guess I could go for prolonged ellipses, but that’s a bit gauche. Ceyda--have you, had sex before?
“Yes, not much but yes. This is the fourth time,” Ceyda said.
Oh. All right. I didn’t--well, point against me for making assumptions. You don’t seem like the uh, type to.
“What do you mean?” Ceyda asked, tilting her head in confusion. This was new.
You know what, fair, that was a rude statement and I was rude for saying it. Alternative question, which you can not answer if you don’t want to, how old were you, and how old were your er, partners?
Ceyda wasn’t too sure what that had to do with anything, but Doc was the magical book and she was not. Maybe this was relevant to magic.
“Once when I was fourteen, the guy was sixteen, and then twice when I was fifteen, once with another fifteen year old, and once with someone who was fourteen,” Ceyda said, counting off lazily. “Why?”
No specific reason. Just. Trying to gain perspective on all this. So you’re sexually active. That’s fine. This is fine. You’ve been using protection?
Ceyda stared at the book blankly.
...please tell me you know what that means.
“I do not.”
I’m gonna go cry for a moment. Cry forever. All right. So, we’re gonna… we’re gonna look some spells up, after this. And until we do, you are forbidden from having sex. Unless you got some chromosomal issues or just flat out don’t menstruate or--you know what? Even then. No sex.
“Uh, okay,” Ceyda said, not sure what any of that had to do with anything. She would ask when she wasn’t between stuffed noses and watery eyes.
Secondly, what exactly happened when you had sex with these… I will assume boys? Since you were very surprised about the comment I made on girls?
“The usual. We would sneak off somewhere secret, so our parents couldn’t see, and then we never talked about it again,” Ceyda replied.
Mmmmm. All right. Yeah. That uh. Sure. Okay. So, how do you feel about that, as a person?
“I think it’s great? It’s very efficient for keeping secrets,” Ceyda said, smiling.
Sure but--all right what if no one cared, and you were allowed to have all the sex you wanted, would it still make sense?
Ceyda scratched her chin. “Yes.”
Why would everyone ignoring each other after having sex make sense, Ceyda.
Ceyda shrugged. “I don’t know, it just does? I like it that way. I like it better than… whatever Opal was suggesting. Or whatever Merlin wanted.”
What did Merlin want?
“Lyle said he wanted to have kids! He wanted to marry me!” Ceyda said, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “That’s so gross!”
Right. Yeah. Not having kids. Keep that in mind. Just in general. It’s a good idea. Just saying.
“Yes, Doc, I know that’s a good idea--” Ceyda cut herself off as she caught movement in her peripherals. Oh shit Rembrandt and Fontaine were alive and here and going to kidnap her and kill her and it was going to be terrible because she was still on the verge of blubbering like a baby and--
It was Danette.
“Danette!” Ceyda squeaked as she glided down from the rooftop.
“Hey, Ceyda,” Danette said stiffly as she stood in the alleyway, her arms folded tightly and her lips pressed together even tighter.
There was a silence, and Ceyda clutched Doc tightly across her chest. Ceyda waited for Danette to say something, but instead she just stood there, not budging even for a moment.
“What?” Ceyda asked, swallowing the bile forming in the back of her throat.
Danette sighed, rubbed her temples, and slowly curled her hands into fists.
“Ceyda. I just. Ceyda. Why.”
“Which part?” Ceyda asked.
“All of it. Everything. Every decision you make. Do you not think?” Danette took a step forward.
Doc vibrated ominously.
“I think absolutely too much, and I think you are well aware of that by now,” Ceyda responded, planting her feet into the ground.
Danette heaved a large, long, sigh.
Ceyda dug her nails into the leather of Doc’s cover. She didn’t know if she was about to argue again or receive advice and both seemed equally stressful.
“Opal was quite mean to me,” Ceyda said. “Are you aware of that? I can explain what happened if you want.”
Danette held her hand up. “We’re all aware. Ceyda. Opal doesn’t just go off saying things at random, you know.”
“So you hate me then,” Ceyda surmised.
Don’t phrase it like that. You don’t know how accurate it is, you should say something less accusatory.
“Sorry-- so you agree with Opal’s anger,” Ceyda repeated.
Danette stared at the ground. “I am going to try and be honest with you Ceyda.”
“Yes! Please!” Ceyda clapped her hands together. “This has been incredibly stressful to me.”
Danette gave a low, stressed laugh, forced a smile, shut her eyes, and covered her face with her hands. It almost looked like joy but seemed more like frustration.
“I am trying, Ceyda, I really am but--” Danette took another deep breath. “Sacred skies please for the love of the crown stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like… that,” Danette gestured. “Like every little bad thing that happens to you is the end of the world.”
Ceyda blinked in honest confusion. She had no idea what Danette was talking about. “Well, obviously getting chased down by the mages and nearly dying was worse than what just happened, but also I think it’s fairly common for people to be devastated by being hurt by individuals they care for.”
“You have known us for. What? four days? And most of that was spent down in that basement? You don’t know us Ceyda, and you certainly don’t know enough about us to care,” Danette shot back.
“I do care! I honestly care a lot!”
“No! You just like being the center of attention! And you can’t say you don’t, I’ve known you for five years now.”
Ceyda shrugged. “Do you not like being the center of attention?”
Danette sucked in her breath. “I want to be understanding Ceyda. I get it. You’re a chatelaine. We’re pillars. And you fucked Lyle, fine, that makes sense. I don’t like it but I can’t change who you are, and you can’t change who I am.”
Ceyda’s stomach opened out and her heart clenched in stress. The sex hadn’t even been that good. And now it was destroying whatever small amount of enjoyment she had.
Wait are you implying that being a chatelaine is related to sex is that what’s going on what does that mean
“Ah-- one second--” Ceyda held up a finger and looked down at Doc.
“Chatelaines can naturally generate sexual miasma,” Ceyda explained. “That’s what Danette is talking about.”
Can naturally generate sexual WHAT
“Can you please stop talking to your book?” Danette snapped.
Ceyda gave a small yelp and looked back up. “Sorry. I’ll talk to Doc later.”
Doc vibrated intensely.
“Look, just because I don’t blame you for what you did, the fact is that you can’t just-- go around doing these things! You are so childish. And I thought you might change or grow but you just keep making the same mistakes! You keep--” Danette cut herself off, rubbing her face in frustration.
“I’ve changed,” Ceyda mumbled.
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“Have you? Because as far as I can tell you haven’t changed since the day I met you, and you had stolen scissors to cut at your curtains, just because you wanted to,” Danette responded.
In her defense, she had really wanted to slice into the curtains. There was something so fascinating about the threads fraying and being torn in two.
“I haven’t done that since!” Ceyda nearly yelled.
“That’s not the point! You keep… doing things like that! Just small or big things you don’t think through and, sacred skies, Ceyda, you’re sixteen! You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep gorging yourself on food! You can’t keep flirting with men! You can’t keep acting like every slight against you is the worst thing that ever happened! You can’t keep acting like the world doesn’t exist until you look at it!”
Ceyda stared at Danette, and then at the ground. “Well… that’s a lie. I’ve never flirted with anyone and I don’t intend to start now.”
Danette yelled in frustration. “Do you not see how you act? Are you self aware, even at all?”
Doc vibrated again.
Ceyda stared at the ground, not knowing how to process Danette’s words. They were certainly new information-- she had received many arguments about her personality before, but never from this perspective.
“Could you possibly give examples?” Ceyda whispered.
“Look, Ceyda, I’m not your mother. I’m not here to raise you. And I can’t walk you through, step by step, every social interaction you ever had and give you a list of what you did wrong. No one can do that. And I know you have issues with ruminating. And I’m sorry. I really am. I know it’s not your fault but--fuck. Ceyda you can’t act like this,” Danette said.
No, stop this conversation, this is not helping you, stop this conversation now.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Ceyda asked. “Apologize? I can apologize. I know how to and everything.”
Danette rolled her head to the sky. “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Ceyda pleaded.
Danette stared at Ceyda, her jaw slowly hanging open in confusion. “Ceyda I don’t know! I am trying to help you, at least listen to me.”
“I am listening to you!” Ceyda insisted. “You have told me things but I don’t know what any of it means--you say I act like the world revolves around me, fine, ok, in what sense? That I am selfish? That I belittle others? That I am not helpful enough? Do I speak condescendingly? What?”
Danette gave another short, pained laugh. “I can’t help you with that. I can’t just-- I don’t work for you!”
“I know you don’t!” Ceyda insisted.
“I don’t think you do,” Danette said.
“Just tell me what to do!” Ceyda nearly yelled. “Just tell me what you need me to fucking do!”
“I need you to look deep inside yourself, and really look at what you’ve done, and try and just. Heal. Ceyda. That’s all,” Danette replied.
“Profoundly unhelpful!” Ceyda screamed.
“You know what? Fine! Screw this. I don’t need to help you. No one is obligated to help you with whatever you’re going through, and if you want to prance around pretending to be our savior, maybe you should start acting like one,” Danette said flatly before turning around and leaving Ceyda.
Ceyda slumped against the wall of the building. She waited until Danette was out of eyesight as she tried to force down a new cycle of tears. “Well, go on then.”
Go on with what?
“Tell me how I’m weird and how this is all my fault,” Ceyda said. “I’m sure you think I’m an absolute idiot, again.”
No. I just think I severely misjudged this culture and aspects of your personality. You’re not--you’re not stupid, Ceyda. I promise.
Ceyda folded her arms and sunk further down the roof. “Doesn’t feel that way.”
Now. Please elaborate. What in Karani’s fucking graces do you mean by sexual miasma.
“It’s just--like--a thing?” Ceyda said, shrugging wearily. “With cores comes certain things they are at risk for. Women are often at high risk for selfish ruminations, towers risk spite and listlessness, lighthouses might become too feminine and lose their abilities to lead--
I’m sorry, too feminine? What. No. Explain that.
Ceyda groaned. “Well, lighthouses are often the best at focusing, and thus can coordinate events. They are a blend of being able to do many things at once, but also focus. They keep a balance, and if they go too feminine, they are unable to focus.
Why is feminity related to lack of focus.
Ceyda furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
Why is. Why are. Why are things. Why are all of this.
“I don’t know, it just is, Doc. Women are better at many, small details, and men focus better in one field.”
Such as?
Ceyda shrugged. “Well, you know, how if you learn too much it clutters your mind and leaves it vulnerable. But women are naturally predisposed to it, so we need to be careful while still accepting the internal strengths of our cores.”
But wh--no. I am getting off track. Please explain to me the sexual miasma part.
“Chatelaines can be naturally sexual provocative due to their cores. It’s ridiculous, no, mother, me wearing glasses isn’t going to want to make the boys want to fuck me, they’re just glasses,” Ceyda rolled her eyes.
...oh. Oh no. That wasn’t. I just thought you had an overly controlling mother! Oh no. Oh gods. Ceyda that is profoundly fucked up.
“I know! Just let me wear the glasses and jewelry! They’re fun!” Ceyda nodded.
No I mean the fact that you are being sexualized at young ages in a restrictive society because some random priest decided you were an arbitrary category number one.
“I do not know what you mean by that, Doc,” Ceyda replied, frowning.
Don’t worry about it. I just mean that-- Ceyda have you ever intentionally flirted with anyone?
“No. Of course not. It’s ridiculous,” Ceyda rolled her eyes in disgust.
Then you have never flirted with anyone and anyone who says you do is a jerk.
“So… you agree with me then? And Danette is just wrong and stupid?”
Danette was… not coming at this at the correct angle.
“What does that mean?”
I am going to give some advice that might sound as frustrating as Danette’s advice. You might not like it, is that okay?
Ceyda nodded. She didn’t actually want to hear it, but now that she knew Doc had something to say, she couldn’t not hear it.
Once we figure out a spell to get you having sex safely, you are, under no circumstances, to engage in sex unless you have explicit, clear cut, verbal consent from the person, without pressuring from you. Additionally, I’d really suggest actually explaining what you expect before doing such things.
“Why?” Ceyda asked. “Why do I have to tell them? Shouldn’t they be the ones to tell me that they expect something additional?”
I get the desire to engage in sex, Ceyda. I’ve cheated on enough people to--oh. I guess I cheated on people. Wow. My self esteem is doing spectacularly right now. Mm, that’s dark. I do not like that. I do not like that at all.
Where was I? Oh, yes. I’ve uh, had enough sex to know that your situation isn’t abnormal or wrong, inherently speaking. Everyone is different. But. Here? Now? You messed up.
Ceyda cringed. She had so hoped it wasn’t her fault this time.
So long as you find yourself at cultural or social odds with a group of people, it is on you to make your intentions clear. Because everyone else? The people who see themselves as normal? They never will. They will never explain anything worth a damn. Which means you have to carry that burden. Every time. Forever.
It’s not fair, it’s not fun, and we’d all live in a better world if everyone communicated intentions. But so long as you are a girl of noble birth, a chatelaine with a magical book, running around with people you could murder with both your wealth and your magical power, then you are triply obligated to make sure all your intentions are clear.
You cannot let something like this happen again. Not in a way where they actually have proof. Not in a way where you actually did something they dislike. Your slate needs to be clean. And this isn’t just about sex either. I just wanted to emphasize that the most. We are going to have to keep you on an extreme no-friendliness policy and try and keep track of every minute reaction someone has in the short term and long term.
It will be exhausting, and it will be boring. But we have to do it.
They can’t pin anything to you, and you have to be hyper aware of anything they could pin you for, do you understand me?
“Yes,” Ceyda murmured, staring at her feet.
Do you agree with me? Because I am incapable of forcing you to do anything.
“Sure. I guess. It just--” Ceyda took a deep breath. “I just want to scream and cry and yell at everyone and hit them until they bruise.”
That is an understandable feeling! This is a very difficult situation!
“It’s not that,” Ceyda murmured. “I mean it is but--”
A lump formed in her throat.
But what?
“Doc, I almost died. I almost died with the meat hook. At the Merristers. In that weird Teractus prison. I almost died. I could be dead right now. I had my heart fucking ripped out of my chest, and wounds opened again and again and again--Reiner is dead and what if it later kills me and those mages are dead and what if they find me and what if they torture me or put me in prison or lobotomize me or--” Ceyda’s voice hitched. Fresh tears poured down her face.
“I’m not okay! I don’t feel okay! I feel sick and gross and every time I hear something behind my shoulder I think someone is going to kill me. And I used to think it before but it’s different now. Everything feels so fake now, and I hate it! I hate it so much! And now instead of dealing with that fact I have to-- I have to focus on my toxic ruminations? I have to be a good chatelaine? I just want to be alive! I just want to be alive and eat good food and sleep in a soft bed and--and--and-- Doc I don’t want to die.”
Oh Ceyda. That’s understandable. I can only assume the pressure of having to talk about interpersonal drama is incredibly jarring.
“It is! It’s so jarring! And I don’t know how to explain it! And I hate that I can’t! I hate how I’m acting irrational and petty when I have magical powers!”
You’re not acting irrational! You had a near death experience, that comes with trauma. Surely you know that.
“Yes but--” Ceyda paused and stared off into the distance. “I don’t--I’m not like that.”
What do you mean?
“I am me. I am Ceyda Lucrece. And nothing touches me. My mom can complain all she wants, but I am still me. And I’ve always… liked that part of myself. That no matter what my parents or others said, I just did what I wanted. I had that stupid bracelet and I still cursed internally. It didn’t stop me. And now-- and now I’m being stopped. Now I’m changing. And I don’t like it. I don’t like how my heart hurts just for existing. I don’t like how the world exists anymore. I don’t like what I see. But I liked it before. Which means I’ve changed.”
There’s nothing wrong with changing, Ceyda.
“I know that! But-- I’m not supposed to change like this! I’m supposed to take everything in stride! I’m supposed to look at bad things in the eye and never flinch!”
Who told you that, Ceyda?
“No one? Me? I used to--I used to read books from my mother’s library. They had all sorts of daring adventures and emotional journeys. And I always hated how illogical the characters were. I hated how they made the wrong decisions. How they would get tripped up because their love interest was possessed or their sibling was offered the position they were vying for. I hated how they would ruin the world around them because of their choices. I hated it so much. And I always told myself--if I was the hero, I’d do way better than that. I wouldn’t get stuck on stupid bullshit like family honor or arbitrary choices. I’d make the obvious best choice every time, and it wouldn’t even be hard.”
Ceyda paused. She waited for Doc to respond, but no response came.
“I truly believed that, and fuck, I still do. And I can’t stop shaking because instead, what happened? I almost died, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m making no good choices, and I have isolated every single one of my allies because of some stupid interaction I wasn’t even thinking about! And I don’t understand! I don’t-- Doc, why do I feel this way? Why can’t I be amazing?”
Because you’re human, Ceyda. And most humans are bad at judging the situations of other humans. All we have are our own emotions, our own perspective, our own experiences. And we truthfully cannot know how we will act in new situations until they happen, no matter what our brains tell us.
“I hate that! I don’t want my brain to lie to me! I don’t want the toxic ruminations! I just want to be honest and true and smart and know the answer to everything!” Ceyda babbled.
Ceyda. That can’t happen. And it’s not toxic ruminations. Do not ever think you are at fault for this. It’s not about what you think in your head--it’s about what you do with it afterwards.
“So what? I just live with this for the rest of my life? I just have to deal with the fact that I’m wrong and bad and nearly died and everyone hates me and I won’t even make the right decisions or think right and I’ll make irrational decisions on a whim that I’ll hate and everyone around me will hate?
Yes. But it gets easier. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but you are self aware, Ceyda. Maybe not socially aware, but you are self aware. And I’ve seen you be incredibly honest with yourself, not all the time, but enough for me to know it’s a habit of yours. And that can make a huge difference in the world. That is what makes those fucking ‘toxic ruminations’ manageable. Not suppressing them into silence, but knowing what they are and how to act accordingly.
“So how am I supposed to act, then?” Ceyda asked. “Go back and grovel?
Beg Opal for forgiveness? Fuck no! Next time we see her we're telling her she can shove all her bullshit accusations up her god damn ass.
Ceyda blinked. “But she was--you said I need to be well behaved! You said this was my fault.”
No. I said you messed up. But Opal? Opal decided to turn drama into Let’s Yell at Ceyda Time. Do you know what the proper response to someone crying is? To take a step back. Not decide your argument requires to be further emphasized with insults! If what you had done was that harmful and unforgivable, than she should have asked you to leave quickly and quietly, not kept calling you stupid.
Danette wasn’t great either, but she at least talked to you in private and… was trying. Something. That I’m sure to her was important. Even if it’s predicated on some assumptions I can only begin to guess at--
I can assume Danette probably feels bitterness from being forced to work for you and then seeing you walk through her friends, which is reasonable if not easy to navigate. But I have no idea what Opal’s problem is. She is high on teenage bullshit. The biggest teenage bullshit everyone has to deal with. Which is that everything is important, everyone’s horny, and no one knows how to do anything right.
Ceyda giggled. “But what about the others?”
Well, we should find out what they actually told her for starters. And what they actually think of you. Lyle, Aster and Merlin are not free from blame here, they clearly were annoyed enough to tell a story in their favor. But I do know for a fact that Opal is a gods damn bully, and that entire group is being led by a bully.
I don’t know if she likes bullying people, or if she thinks that’s the only way she’ll keep authority, but that group is a ticking time bomb of drama if they can’t handle someone new entering and having different values.
Ceyda stood up. She jumped off the roof, quietly invoking Dorskina as she did.
Let’s go to the barn, sleep it off. We’ll deal with this in the morning?
“I would like to deal with this now, actually,” Ceyda said.
Uh, all right. You do you, Ceyda. Do you need anything from me?
Ceyda shook her head. “I don’t think so. I have a plan.”
Can I please ask what the plan is?
“If I can’t make them like me as a person, then I can make them like me as something they need. You said we can teach them magic? Then let’s do it. Let’s teach them magic. All of them. Including Opal.”
That’s… fucking devious.
“You said my actions matter in what I do with my desires, right?” Ceyda said. “And they want to learn magic. So I’m going to teach them magic for incredibly petty reasons. Is that bad?”
It will be if they find out. Or if you hold it over them.
“I won’t hold it over them then. I won’t tell them. I still want to be that person who does everything for the right reasons, for the correct, smart reasons. And if you’re right, and my inner thoughts don’t matter, then I’m going to pretend I’m what I think I am on the inside”
Doc fell silent, and gave a small, reassuring vibration.
Ceyda wiped away the last of her tears, and rubbed her face to remove the dried ones. She was going to be the best, most nicest, most smartest person in all of Kesterline, whether everyone else liked it or not.