In the muted dark, Ceyda followed behind Lyle and Danette, occasionally cursing Dorskina’s name under her breath as she did. Each time she hoped to feel a swell of power and for Doc to return to her, spinning rapidly through the air, but it was not to be.

“We’re taking you to Natalia’s house,” Lyle said. “Her house is closest to yours.”

Ceyda nodded as she looked over the great sloping roads. She was beginning to think she hated hills and mountains. She would take over the world and create a world where everything was flat and not uphill. Of course, it was these hills that let them move quietly in the dark, in a flat plains, all one would have to do was look and see the shadows being illuminated by the candles of the houses. But this way, everything was obscured. And she could pretend she was safe.

Long rolling hills gave way to the clustered roads of Bricketfriar, and the beaten down dirt road led to a narrow, slightly lopsided, two story log cabin. Ceyda’s eyes lit up in relief when Danette and Lyle slowed their pace and headed toward the house. The age of walking was over.

Danette knocked on the door, with three raps against the thick wood. A tired Natalia opened the door, dressed in a long, gray gown, holding a tiny, unlit, gaslamp. Her thick black hair was braided tightly into a bun.

She hurried them in, and Ceyda entered a small, dark and overheated room. There was a small cast iron oven in the center, with a soft fiery glow. It barely illuminated the room, and Ceyda was nearly blind in the poor lighting. At least the outside had stars and a mostly formed moon.

“Brothers are sleeping” Natalia said, placing a dark shadowy hand to her dark shadowy face. Probably making the ‘sh’ motion. What Ceyda would give to be able to expand her senses in this moment.

“Where?” Ceyda asked. Natalia pointed to a dark shadowy wall where there were vague, soft snores. Ceyda didn’t know if this was a one room house, and something told her asking would be very rude. So instead she took a deep breath and pushed the burning question down into her gut.

There was a shuffling of movement and Ceyda spun helplessly, trying not to accidentally trip over anything. Rough hands grasped her arm, and Ceyda flinched momentarily. She looked up to see the familiar Danette silhouette, and gave a small, relieved squeak as Danette guided her through the monstrosity of the dark room.

After some confused fumbling and shuffling, Ceyda ended up in another room with a slightly larger window, allowing precious moonlight to filter through, and a larger stone fireplace in the corner, with a few flickering, dying crisps of wood.

Danette guided Ceyda to a bench, and sat her down. Ceyda leaned against the wooden wall, and took a deep sigh of relief.

“Hello all,” Ceyda said.

“So anyone want to explain what the fuck is going on?” Natalia asked, yawning.

“Opal’s apparently a noble,” Danette grumbled.

“What? Are you serious?” Natalia sputtered. “That--no. Someone in town would have recognized her! Everyone works for someone. Who is she?”

“Amber Blanche,” Ceyda said. “She became a lighthouse this Adreday with my brother.”

“...she was fourteen?” Natalia hissed. “I was being bossed around by a fourteen year old?”

Danette groaned in sympathy.

“Really this is your fault, Natalia,” Lyle said.

“What? Me? How is this my fault?”

“You’re so short you make everyone look like an adult by comparison,” Lyle replied.

Ceyda opened her mouth to yell at Lyle, but the sound of vague groans and shuffling made her realize it was most likely a joke.

“I’m sorry but--fourteen year olds aren’t usually, uh,” Natalia paused. “Fully developed?”

“If you’re talking about boobs, I got those when I was eleven,” Ceyda replied sleepily.

There was an awkward silence.

“Were you not talking about that?” Ceyda asked.

“Well, I was, but also there are, you know, other overall aspects. Also, eleven? Really?” Natalia repeated. “That can’t be right.”

Oh to have a magic book to answer all her questions on the mysteries of human bodies.

“What age did you think she was?” Ceyda asked.

“Sixteen? Maybe a bit older? We try and not incorporate anyone younger than fifteen into what we’ve been trying to do,” Lyle said.

“What about Merlin?”

“What about Merlin?” Lyle asked.

“...Merlin is. Was. is. Merlin--” Danette faltered. “He’s seventeen.”

Ceya’s eyes shot open and she nearly jumped out of her seat. “Merlin’s older than me? But he--no! His voice isn’t even deep yet!”

There was a prolonged silence. Ceyda flinched. Right, being shocked by Merlin’s age was probably a bit weird considering how he could be kidnapped or dead. Oh this had been short sighted to bring up, she felt so idiotic.

The silence was broken by Natalia’s piggish laughter. “It’s funny, Ceyda.”

“What is?”

“How… little you know about us, I guess.” Natalia continued.

“Well, I like to think I know many things considering that I’ve only spent a few total days with you,” Ceyda replied.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just--” Natalia paused.

“We’ve grown up with each other,” Lyle supplied. “And you did not.”

Ceyda couldn’t tell if she was being scolded, lectured, or being reached out to emotionally. “How did Opal do it then? You all seemed to like her well enough.”

Natalia yawned. “She brought us money. Old weapons. Honestly at the time it felt like a fairy tale. Maybe never any real change, but skies be damned, it got my hopes up.”

“So she bribed you,” Ceyda replied. Wait, was that condescending? Was that judgmental? “To be fair, I probably could have been bribed by a very good sandwich.”

“Yeah we were fucking bribed,” Lyle replied. “We’re fucking rubes is what we are. And now Merlin’s dead, we busted a noble girl out of house jail, and we got mages up our ass.”

Ceyda flinched. “The mages are here?”

“Ohhh yeah,” Lyle continued. “The worst part is I don’t know if they like-- know anything or not? They just keep. Watching.”

“Harbin went missing,” Danette added.

“Who’s Harbin?” Ceyda asked.

“He oversaw all the cleaners,” Natalia said. “You might have met him when Aster got his cleaning supplies?”

Ceyda had not been there for that moment.

“I am sorry that happened,” Ceyda mumbled, not knowing what else to say. Suddenly, her eyes lit up in recognition. “Danette!”

“Hm?” Danette’s shadowy figure flinched in the dark.

“I am so sorry you got fired!” Ceyda blurted out. “That was probably my fault!”

“It definitely was,” Danette said calmly. “Well--your parents fault, anyway. They panicked and couldn't magically get you back, and when they found out you had just been in the town they had to have their shitty little power trip--but it’s fine. It was kind of inevitable the moment you went missing."

“Are you all right? Are you homeless? Can you eat?”

The gaslamp was suddenly lit by Natalia illuminating the room. Wooden shavings littered the floor, and wet clothing were strung up across the ceiling.

Danette gave a small, fuzzy smile. “I am fine. I’m taking over for Natalia’s mother.”

Ceyda nodded. “That’s good. I think.”

There was a silence. Natalia disappeared and came back with thin strips of what looked to be dried, salted fish. She bit into the tough, gnarly exterior, and slowly chewed. After a few moments of struggle she compromised by sucking on the jerky for the salt.

Did her parents know she was gone? Would they check in on her room, as they were routine to do, and realize her bed was bare? Would they call for the mages? Or would they look for her themselves?

If it hadn’t been for that fucking neural cleansing--

Bzzt.

Ceyda stared blearily at her bracelet. Right. That thing. It had been quiet this entire time, maybe because she was too tired to have a real emotion.

“So,” Ceyda asked quietly. “What happens now?”

For a brief moment, there was only the sound of chewing and silence.

“Tell Gilbert he was right?” Lyle cracked.

“If Merlin’s dead, I’m leaving Bricketfriar,” Danette said. “I’ve got nothing left. It’s just fucking me. I can probably hike it to a nearby town, or maybe I’ll steal a fishing boat and follow the coast.”

Natalia groaned. “I’m going to have to get married.”

“Hey, Natalia, wanna have kids?” Lyle asked.

“I just--” Natalia gestured into the darkness. “I don’t know. I’m not like you and Danette. I can’t convince my mom to leave, and I’m certainly not leaving by myself. And the only guy who can tolerate me is Aster and he doesn’t like me back!”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“He’s a fucking self absorbed prick, we’ve been over this,” Danette said. “Just--if we just pulled him aside.”

“Oh, by the crown, do not. Do you want a fucking repeat of last winter?”

“What about Julian?” Lyle asked.

“After what he did to Sabine? Are you fucking serious?”

Ceyda was beginning to get the distinct impression she had no idea what was going on.

“You could pull a Rosalie,” Danette said. “I have half a mind to do it myself.”

“What did Rosalie do?” Ceyda asked.

“She joined a group of travelling entertainers when she was… it was six years ago...” Natalia said wistfully.

“She was thirteen,” Lyle said. “It’s a shame she left, she was a neat girl. We got along well.”

For a brief moment, Ceyda felt the urge to say something rude on purpose. Something like “Good. She deserves better than everyone here.”

It was a very weird statement to say over someone Ceyda never had met and had no reason to like.

Was she. Envious?

What was there to be envious of?

“I’m probably just going to keep my head down. Everyone’s freaking out like we have to leave, but we don’t know anything is going to happen,” Lyle said.

“Mom says we could be purged,” Natalia says.

“That’s--no. I’m sorry. No,” Lyle shifted uncomfortably. “That’s some panicky-ass bullshit.”

“What’s a purge?” Ceyda asked.

“Natalia thinks they’ll just set the entire village on fire and leave us to the ashes. Which is…” Danette scratched her head. “I don’t think that’s likely. That wouldn’t happen, we’d have to be full on rioting for years for it to even be considered.”

Ceyda stared at the table. Was it unlikely?

Was it truly, utterly, impossible? She would have agreed with Danette and Lyle at one point. But now…

Well, now she really wanted it to be true. But her heart hurt, and she was scared. Scared of Rembrandt, scared of Isaias the thief coming back to kill her, scared of Merlin being gone, scared of her family dragging her back into a chair and cleansing her mind of every thought.

She idly toyed with the bracelet.

She hated thinking like this. It had been easier when she thought she could solve everything. Danette, Lyle and Natalia continued talking in hushed whispers. All manner of solutions were suggested, but none seemed particularly new or fresh. Every thought was met with automatic responses, or offhand lines that Ceyda couldn’t understand.

In some shape or form, they had had similar conversations before. And they might even again in the future.

Was that why she had been envious before? She had been… friendly. She had interacted with the other nobles her age. Crystal and Preston and the many others, a slowly dwindling number as each one eventually left to get married and start a family.

But there was no warm familiarity. No automatic language. No comfort. It was just something done to pass the time until the food was available, or someone died.

Ceyda’s heart hurt. She wanted that closeness. And she didn’t have it at home, and as much as she wished it the case, she didn’t have it here either. And why should she? She was strange, selfish, and utterly incapable of contributing anything. Her specialness had been the book, and now that was gone. There was no way to worm her way into their hearts, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to.

But… they had rescued her. Had it been friendship? Or had it been pragmatism? If she said the wrong thing, or accidentally flirted again, would it start a new wave of isolation, only now she didn’t have anything to give? Or was that now gone with Opal? Surely it couldn’t have been all Opal. No one just went mindlessly with an idea to shun someone.

Unless they did.

This was terrible. She hated second guessing every human interaction. She hated doing it now in this dark room while the Blanche Manor loomed in the back of her mind. She hated everything and didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe she could just blame her parents again. It would be petty, but it made her feel better.

The door creaked open, and Ceyda shot up, fumbling at the table for a weapon.

She didn’t recognize the older person at the door, but no one else was freaking out, so Ceyda sat down, and unclenched her fist.

“Natalia,” the woman said, her face worn with wrinkles and gray hairs. This was Natalia’s mother. She certainly didn’t look like any mother Ceyda had seen. She looked more like a grandmother, if anything.

“Mom--this is Ceyda--” Natalia gestured. “She’s going to be staying with us for a little bit.”

Ceyda froze. Did this person know everything? Did she know nothing? What was Ceyda supposed to do or say.

“Nice dress,” her mother said.

Natalia flinched. “This is Ceyda Lucrece. She’s going to be staying with us for a little while.”

Her mother gave an elongated sigh, and strode into the dark room, sat down on a rocking chair, and set her cane down. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’m actually going to try and leave once I eat and wash my face,” Ceyda said. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“So, what is it? Escaping a marriage?” Natalia’s mother asked.

“No!” Ceyda said hotly. “And if I was, so what?”

Natalia’s mother shrugged. “Well, I would have given you some advice, for one.”

“What advice?” Ceyda snapped.

“Wear gloves and a scarf.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When you want to leave Bricketfriar, cover as much skin as possible, and a scarf if you talk with your teeth. Good skin and teeth are the two biggest giveaways,” Natalia’s mother said.

Ceyda blinked in confusion. “I admit I am surprised you’d advise me to escape a marriage.”

“Not everyone was lucky to fall in love like me,” the older woman said. “Who am I to control happiness?”

Ceyda stared at Natalia, and then Natalia’s mother. Her mouth hung agape.

Oh skies above.

Her mother was nice. Was that--was that allowed? Was this a trick? Was she secretly cruel in private?

Was this why it was rude to say Danette was lucky??

Danette snapped her fingers in front of Ceyda.

“Hm?” Ceyda stared at Danette.

“You kinda started looking like a skinned fish, you okay?” Danette asked.

“Yes. Quite. I am entirely unsure of what to say right now, utterly flummoxed,” Ceyda replied, and not only was it true due to the woman’s words, but she still didn’t know if the woman knew about the rebellion and thus couldn’t say anything even if she wanted to!

Natalia’s mother chuckled. “You are adorable.”

Ceyda’s eyes lit up. She was adorable! She hadn’t been called that in years! That was amazing! How did she repeat her actions so as to get that compliment as much as humanly possible?

“Is it all right if I stay the night?” Danette asked.

“Of course, you’re taking over my shift, aren’t you? Where are you staying now, anyway?” Natalia’s mother asked.

“Mostly just with Pavlo’s family.”

“Mm.”

Pavlo had been the servant working for the family after Danette was fired. Unless it was the same name, of course. Did everyone here just rotate jobs as needed? It was not something Ceyda had thought of, but it seemed quite obvious. There were only so many pillars in Bricketfriar, after all, and many jobs that needed to be done.

“I’m gonna go back to my place and stop by later,” Lyle said. “Possibly much later.”

“Why?” Natalia asked.

“I think I still have the uh, papers that Opal gave us. And I figured maybe Ceyda could use them,” Lyle said, shrugging.

“Papers?” Natalia’s mom frowned. Ceyda stared into the abyss, ready to explode into whatever came next.

“Don’t worry about it mom. Just shit.”

Ceyda was going to die and she was going die right this very second.

Natalia’s mother nodded. “All right.”

Ceyda had died. She was dead and so confused.

Lyle saluted the group, and disappeared into the night. Danette disappeared shortly thereafter, either going to sleep with the brothers or sleep in a different room in the small cabin. Natalia left to get whatever could pass as blankets.

“So, what’s your name? Or should I call you Natalia’s mother?” Ceyda asked.

“Madalene,” she replied.

More silence. Ceyda had not thought what to ask beyond this point. Madalene had taken to retrieving a long pipe, and positioning it so the smoke would trail out of the window.

“Is there a reason you’re staring?” Madalene asked.

“I--I guess I just realized I haven’t seen many, er, older people working Bricketfriar,” Ceyda admitted.

“I’m not old,” Madalene said. “I’m in my early forties.”

That sounded incredibly old to Ceyda, but she wasn’t about to contest such an assertion.

“Do--do a lot of people die in Bricketfriar? Before old age?” Ceyda asked.

“Nah.”

Ceyda sighed with relief. Good. That would have made everything so much worse if that had been the case.

“They just don’t come home one day,” Madalene said.

Ceyda blinked. “What do you mean?”

Madalene tapped her pipe against the wall, lit ashes falling. “Not a lot. Not always. But every few years, someone goes missing. It’s always been the case. Used to think that was just how the world worked.”

“Use--used to?” Ceyda said quietly.

Madalene’s eyes grew distant. “I was a lot more optimistic when I was younger. But as I got older I always thought it funny that the young never disappeared. Always the old. I used to think that they’d just walk into the woods and die in peace, away from it all. I like to think that’s what happened to Victor. That he got mad at me one day and went to the woods to die. Or maybe he sunk himself to the bottom of the well, never to be found.”

“Is this--do they know about this? Does Natalia know that? Or--”

“Of course they do. Everyone does,” Madalene said. “Everyone’s lost a relative, one they’ll never see again, no body, no nothing.”

“They--they never told me that,” Ceyda said quietly.

“Why would they?” Madalene asked. “Do you ask why the sun rises? Or why women and men love each other?”

Actually, that last one she had asked quite a few times and never had gotten a satisfactory answer.

“Merlin was young. He went missing,” Ceyda said quietly.

“Perhaps he was unlucky. Perhaps an aristocrat killed him and thought nothing about it. Perhaps the ifrit lurking in the shadows were particularly hungry that day,” Madalene said. “This is a very grim topic, are you sure you wish to discuss it?”

“I--” Ceyda paused. She stared at the older woman, at her cane, her worn down face, her pipe.

Early forties, she had said?

That was only a few years older than her own parents, wasn’t it? Her mother had always been cagey about her age but--

Ceyda looked down at her feet.

“I’m just trying to figure out how I can help people,” Ceyda said.

Madalene laughed softly. “Help? In what way?”

“I don’t know. Save the world?” Ceyda said bleakly.

“What a lovely thought.”

The smoke of the pipe lingered in the room.

“Do you think I could? I could get money, I--” Ceyda paused. That was really the extent of all she could offer.

“No,” Madalene said. “I don’t think you ever truly could.”

That was not the answer Ceyda was expecting.

“Why not? I could… I could get old, I could gain power, I could-- I could do something,” Ceyda prompted, trying very hard not to say “I could with my magic spellbook.”

“Because it would hurt,” Madalene said. “Helping--it feels good, but in the long term, it will hurt you, deeply and severely. The ones who keep doing it are the ones who can’t escape the pain. Their lives will be destroyed if they don’t. But you could always escape the pain. And it’s always easier to leave. To pretend things aren’t bad. To pretend that, maybe, just for a moment, things aren’t all that bad. Or maybe that this is how everything should be.”

Ceyda stared at Madalene, continually silent.

“I have met good and kind aristocrats. But there was always a point. The kindness ended when their own lives were threatened. Their own abilities. Their own safety. And unfortunately, the individual kindness of one person isn’t enough. And the good and kind aristocrats will eventually find the line where they can go no further, and we are left behind, to exist as we always did.”

“You don’t--you don’t know that to be true every time,” Ceyda said. For example, it might not be true in magic related incidents.

Madalene grinned. “If I am wrong, then it will truly be a great moment to be proven wrong, no? But otherwise, if you are looking to escape a marriage, or whatever it is that haunts you, well, I wish you luck. We will most likely never see each other again.”

“You… think there might be a purge, right? Natalia said so,” Ceyda said uneasily.

“Mmm, that girl talks more than is healthy. I worry about her ruminations,” Madalene muttered.

“Why not leave? You clearly have some ideas on how,” Ceyda said.

Madalene laughed, the same piggish laughter of her daughter. “Where? I have four kids, the youngest is six. And I’ve got bad knees. Pray tell, where would you have us go?”

Ceyda opened her mouth, and then closed it.

Fuck.

Bzzt.

Where was there to go?

They didn’t have cars. They didn’t have cousins in far off places.

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Ceyda admitted. “I guess I just--I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Madalene nodded. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

She deeply inhaled into her pipe, and the kindly eyes looked at Ceyda with no malice or judgment. Somehow, Ceyda had never felt so small.