CHAPTER NINE - LEAF, GLASS, YELLOW, SILVER
Tanner's memories were faded. Dulled. Life only really returned on a night filled with the scent of vinegar.
Funny, how life tended to arrange itself into process and interruption. Moment to moment, she could say she was alive, that she was cognisant, self-aware, rational, alert. Moment to moment, she lived. And yet, barely a few hours later, she'd look back and she'd see nothing more than vague outlines, motions without substance. The gaps in a pea-soup mist where someone had moved, but with no sight of the person themselves. A day, and the mists would close back in, and even that imprint would be gone, leaving only whatever softening footprints had been left behind, marking out the basest facet of presence. Sometimes, when she looked back at her life over the last two years as a judge, she found that all she could really state, confidently, was that she hadn't spontaneously manifested today. That was it. She saw the marks of her existence, saw the footprints, the gaps in the fog, all of it, which suggested something had moved, something had existed... but the memory was just a grey tangle of unaligned threads.
If the memories of Mahar Jovan were a metal briar tangled around her skull, latched deep into her grey matter... then many, many of her memories of Fidelizh were a soft, woollen mass that slid away as soon as it formed.
Maybe it was a matter of proportions. Assuming that the memories from... say, ages zero through four/five were basically complete write-offs, that meant she had ten years of basically complete memories when she left Fidelizh at fifteen. Ten years, three thousand, six hundred and fifty days. Each day worth 0.00027% of her remembered lifespan. Rounded up, 0.0003%. Now, she was seventeen, bordering on eighteen. Thirteen years of basically complete memories. Four thousand, seven hundred and forty five days. Each day worth 0.00021% of her total remembered lifespan. From 0.0003 to 0.0002, that meant her life was now, on average, worth 33% less. Each day became less and less meaningful as time went on. Each birthday became less significant. By the time she was forty, each day would be worth 0.00007% of her life. A number so tiny it wasn't even worth thinking about. Each division of time became just a tiny drop in a swollen pool. To a man parched in a desert, a single drop of water was everything. To a man drowning in an ocean, a single drop of water was nothing at all. She could feel the waters rising all around her. Her days had already lost 1/3 of their value. How long until it went even lower? How long until years were meshed in the same grey haze?
She didn't have thoughts like this very often. Not often at all. She liked being a dead, grey thing. She liked existing on the golden braid of past, present and future. She enjoyed being a purposeful drone with everything spread before her. Expectations fulfilled, mother satisfied, father presumably proud, lodge contented, world contributed to. A homeostatic value. Sounded strange, but she did enjoy it, quite a bit. The world was full of chaos and peculiarity, mutants lived beyond the city, underground rivers pulsed with contamination, mutant-hunters sang low, rumbling songs as their boats churned up the waters of the river Irizah, a Great War had almost wiped out humanity on the continent... but she was doing her job. Eyes slid over her and didn't linger. Her life cycle was proceeding - from egg, to leptocephalus larvae, to glass eel, to yellow eel, to silver eel. Mustn't shirk.
But sometimes... sometimes she had a little flare of something.
A little twitch of thought. When she had her life operating on a pleasant programme of regulated actions and approved behaviours, any interruption tended to add up. She disliked how her bed was always too small. How her hand ached from too long using the automatic quill. How her eyes had adopted a permanent squint from continual use of her many lenses. How some of the books in the libraries were printed in such a way that the words flowed into each other a bit too much, just adding a hint of inconvenience. How legal logic sometimes seemed to twist into itself and express meaningless concepts in the most convoluted fashion. How spicy the damn food was. Little things, really. Easily ignored in isolation.
But in the grey haze of comfortable routine, even tiny things built up and up and up. After purging so much from her life, so much that irritated her or worried her, reducing down to the familiar and desirable...
Well.
Well.
Thus, Eygi.
* * *
"Oh, oy-oy, Tanner. Nice weather, isn't it?"
It was tolerable. Tanner stumped into the kaff, a different one this time, took a bit of time to wander out to it. Eygi and Algi were there, as per usual, and a little circle of other people she knew vaguely, if not necessarily well, or even by name. Already she could feel routine peeling away. She'd never come out here, normally. Just wound up hearing from someone that Eygi was popping out for a bite to eat - she was a noblewoman, she liked eating at different places all the time, sampling new delicacies, really... pushing the boat out. A glass of citrinitas was summoned, and Tanner sipped... the explosion of chemical wonderment made her face sting and her eyes water, but it fired her with energy, really... well, really got her spine unclenching. The circle of unfamiliars were used to seeing her around, but weren't used to talking with her, and that naturally cultivated a certain breed of winding, particularly the tight variety. A single sip, and a part of that went away. She did what she always did - she sat, and she waited. Said her pleasantries, and just... enjoyed being an element of a conversation, watching for the right moment... at first, things were centred around bigger ideas. Concepts. Algi was talking in his drawling, slightly disinterested way about some new developments in the theatre, how some experimental sorts were trying to use some of the methods from the north, learned from the people living in the seething shantytown in the riverbed. The northerners said it was an absurd parody of their home, the locals thought it was unforgivably odd, and not in an especially fun way, while the Erlize was increasingly nervous about the whole affair. Tanner drifted on the surface of the speech, not quite... well, she had nothing to contribute. She didn't know enough, and wasn't confident in blustering her way through. If she didn't know anything, she might as well keep her mouth shut and let others dive in.
Slowly, but surely, the conversation turned.
And she leaned forwards.
Eygi was chattering about Brother Olgi, one of the more senior judges in the inner temple. Chattering about his habit of losing himself in convoluted metaphors, reiterating everything he was saying in slightly different combinations just to make sure everyone understood exactly what he meant, by which point almost everyone just wanted him to move on, and-
"Yes. Yes. That's exactly what he does, and he just keeps going and going... you know, I wish, I really wish he'd stop assigning reading from the Hallug collection, all the books there are cramped, and it always feels unsatisfying to use them - you know? And he just assigns huge chunks from them, huge chunks, and the pecias take ages to copy..."
Eygi was nodding rapidly.
"Yes, yes, yes, precisely correct, precisely, I loathe the Hallug collection, it feels like the books were exclusively written by the most obtuse people - they don't use the most complex words, but it feels like they turn normal, short words into completely incomprehensible scrawls, it's maddening."
The others were starting to butt in. Yes, the Hallug collection was loathsome. Yes, the pecias that Brother Olgi assigned were much, much too long. Yes, there was at least one chair in the studium which squeaked constantly, and no, none of them knew which one, but it was slowly driving them all insane. These weren't major issues, of course. The pecia were workable. The Hallug collection was interesting, if you waded through some of the obtuse prose. The squeaky chair was easily remedied by stuffing a little wax into one's ears, which Tanner did anyway to help her concentrate. Algi snorted at their complaints, joining in from time to time... she never quite knew where to place him. On the surface, he seemed grounded and reasonable, but sometimes he'd just... ramble about things, conceptual things that she knew almost nothing about, and she got the feeling that there was more going on with Eygi's quiet brother than she knew. But for the time being, she had no mind for it. Eygi was chattering, the others were joining in, Tanner was indulging in acts of complaint that she'd never dream of in any other circumstance. A tiny, permitted break from the usual slithering purpose of her life, the unrelentingly constant path from here to an appropriately oversized hole in the ground.
A moment of catharsis. A little flash of indelible memory amidst the grey haze.
Tanner didn't remember the overwhelming majority of her days. But she always remembered when she got to go out with Eygi, to eat, drink, and complain. To release some steam.
Always remembered days like this. Each and every one of them.
* * *
It was funny, really. For two years, she achieved it. The eternal golden braid. The state where she knew all that was expected from her, all that was required, and she knew precisely how to satisfy all that was demanded. When you clipped the rest of your life away, like dead-heading a pile of roses, you could do... just about anything. Some little deep-rooted part of the brain that understood what it was to be single-minded, to walk after prey in the undergrowth for hours on end, to eat with the morose determination of someone with work to do tomorrow, to speak with the solemn rhythm of someone with nothing else to say beyond the necessities. Tanner sometimes thought other people were like this, too - they had long, long periods of just... operating. Sliding through life with all the graceful inevitability of insects moving through predetermined stages in their life cycle. It was peaceful, very peaceful. But if it wasn't punctuated by periods of catharsis, it would've been maddening. If it wasn't for the little trips to local kaffs, to little interesting restaurants and garden parties, to places where Eygi and Algi were at home, and gladly complained about all manner of little things... if it wasn't for that, she'd have gone mad. Not that the work was maddening, though! Not at all!
And not that she was for a second doubtful of her vocation.
Just... well, she was young. Growing. Time in her life when she had a surfeit of energy, needed to express it somehow. Surely, once she was full-grown, she'd leave such childish ideas behind, and settle down to work solidly for the rest of her life. Surely. Everyone else seemed to manage it, after all. She learned, she studied, she educated herself and was educated in turn. Judges learned a huge amount, only specialising once they had some years of experience under their belt. The purpose was to be the sole authority, the pillar of completion to whom others looked. Every human was defined by incompleteness, by a lack of knowledge in some areas - judges took the law, and learned everything they possibly could. They aspired to heights of completion that no-one else possibly could, and achieved the philosophical ideal of the judiciary. They were well-spoken, intensely well-read, knowledgeable of the law to the point of absurdity, infused with every little rite you could possibly imagine. Humanity was incomplete - the judges saw this as a temporary flaw, rather than an inherent feature. Tanner lost herself in tradition and rite, in purpose and law. Her eyes ached, her forehead was perpetually sore from the weight of her lenses, her arms had long-since forgotten what it was to be lazy, and her fingers... her fingers were black with ink, evening after evening after evening.
That was the reason for the vinegar, you see. And the reason why one of her strongest memories was so strongly scented by it.
Vinegar helped with the ink. Helped dissolve it. Night after night, she'd stand by the mantelpiece and dip her fingers into a little pot of the stuff, slowly washing herself clean before bed. A giant in a nightdress, hair falling in a curtain around her face, surrounded by the crack of firewood and the low splash of vinegar. This was where she talked with the others, murmured of the day's events with polite detachment, watched as more and more dropped out, leaving the dormitory increasingly empty. Eygi sometimes talked with her here, but it was in kaffs that they really unwound, talked about absolute nonsense, speculated in an insulting manner, just... became idiots, for ignorance was bliss, and sometimes Tanner needed bliss. She came to crave the sight of that strange, broken-toothed girl with the frog-like eyes, poking into her room with affected disinterest and scuttling over to the fireplace like a cockroach, ready to call Tanner 'her lovely pet', before regaling her with little pieces of gossipy information. Tanner sometimes felt like she was missing out on a whole world beyond her sight, a panoply of spiteful romances and passionate rivalries, little tits and tats, hithers and thithers, the manifold unfolding of human interaction. In any other circumstance, she'd stand aside. Through Eygi, she had a window. The tiniest peep at what the rest of the humans were getting up to.
If Tanner relished her time in the dull dusty dark of study, routine, ritual and purpose... then Eygi was the tiny chink in the curtains which let in the noonday sun. She shared guilelessly and shamelessly, chattering away with all the ease of a creature bred to chatter and nothing besides, flickering around the room like a moth as she did so, all air and light and sound and motion. A window into a broader world of people. Eygi... well... Tanner clung to her, a little bit. Followed her from place to place, made sure to keep an eye on her, sat next to her during lunchtime, waved at the beginning of lectures, did all she could to stay connected. Tanner knew that if you didn't cling to someone, they had a tendency to slip away. Needed regular renewal, friendship did. And... honestly, Tanner lost herself in routine, and revived herself whenever Eygi swung around, eager to accompany her on trips to kaffs, to little walks, to anything. Liked to think they were a regular old duo, really, Eygi and herself. Small, broken-toothed girl and very large giant. And Algi, sometimes.
But times pass. Times change. Times come, and times go.
And sooner or later, so did Eygi.
* * *
"Hm?"
Eygi looked up from her work as Tanner practically manifested in front of her, looming like an antique colossus. Colossa? Colossa. Right, that was a good, normal thought. The proper conjugation of colossus when the colossus in question so happened to have a pair of chesticles. Oh, gods, what did she just think, words were hazardous things best kept out of her reach, they ought to stow her with the sheep where she could baa and bleat mindlessly for the rest of time and-
"...yes?"
Right. Reality. Existence. Cogito ergo Tanner.
"Sorry, just... wondering if you were heading off to get something to eat?"
Eygi looked up at her strangely. There was something odd in her eyes, and for a moment Tanner felt the tiniest twitch of unease. No smile, no welcoming boisterousness, no airy acceptance... sure, it was the first time Tanner had done this sort of thing, asking her if she wanted to grab something from a local kaff. In her defence, Eygi had been remaining fairly rooted in place for a while now, and... Tanner really wanted to have a chat. Just a small one. Eygi was her first friend in this place, Tanner lived for the little lunches and drinks they had together, the times when she felt like she could really just... unwind. She'd been tense practically her whole life, and the moments when she sat down and basked in Eygi's ambient glow were practically unprecedented. Whenever she had niggling doubts about her work, or felt the irritation mount higher and higher... there was always Eygi, waiting at the end of the line. A second passed...
And Eygi's expression shifted, the smile emerged, the eyes brightened, her entire face seemed to transform as she flashed her slightly broken teeth to Tanner. Like watching someone put on a harlequin's mask. Immediately, she looked younger, happier, brighter. The Eygi that Tanner knew best.
"Well, darling, I'd love to, really, I would, but I'm absolutely swamped at the moment. Completely mashed, really. Love to, though. Love to. So... maybe later? Another day? Just a bit busy. Terribly sorry. But definitely some other time."
Tanner nodded quickly, even as her heart sank.
"Right. Sorry for bothering you. Definitely next time, though. Just..."
She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Well, if you pop out, just, well, let me know. Happy to... tag along."
She could feel her face warming up from embarrassment. Eygi nodded a few times, her face very slightly stiff, and then she was back at her work, scribbling away with the rapid click-click-click of an automatic quill. Looking straight down at her paper. Tanner hovered awkwardly for a second longer before walking away, back to her own work... well, what was left of it. It was funny, how Eygi always managed to just breeze off and find people to cluster around her as she headed for a bite to eat, while Tanner had to nervously plan out a little trip, think of what she wanted, think of how to get there, think of the risks, and then she'd find out that she was apparently misaligned by the great cosmic timepiece that everyone else operated by, and found that no-one else was free when she was. And asking them for their schedules ahead of time felt like a monstrously awkward thing to do. How did you interrogate someone on where they'd be at every minute of every day?
Eygi was a little centre of gravity around which the universe rotated. She conversed easily and airily, moved where she pleased and others followed her with all the inevitability of matter vanishing down a plughole.
Best to... well, best to just follow her lead. Tanner had never actually had lunch with her alone before, oddly enough. Accompanied her alongside others, yes, but never on her own. Well, that as a given with Eygi. Always had people following her, even if it was just her brother.
Best to let Eygi move first. Tanner would gladly move in her wake. More convenient for both parties.
More convenient indeed.
* * *
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"...oh."
Algi looked up.
"Hm? Oh, right, yes, Eygi said she wouldn't be along here today, had something else to deal with. Sorry about that."
The kaff was almost deserted, it was just Algi and Tanner, with the waitresses hovering quietly in their backrooms. Felt like every kaff had the same basic arrangement to it - a small, intimate area where tables clustered and the windows were almost always shuttered, and backrooms kept completely hidden from any customer. Algi had a listless look to him, his feet were stretched out in front of him over the floor, and his cape was draped dandy-like over the back of his chair, fluttering slightly in the draft like a half-hearted flag. Tanner had come here to see Eygi. Didn't know she'd... well, it was a little annoying that Eygi hadn't even told her that she wouldn't be along today, but surely there was a good reason. Tanner's place wasn't to question why Eygi did what she did, Tanner's place was to follow her around and provide good conversation. The rhythm of their relationship had always been set by the shorter girl, and Tanner gladly followed along, uncertain of what rhythm she'd be setting otherwise, afraid of setting the wrong one, terrified of driving Eygi away in the process.
"Ah. I... see."
"...well, you can sit down, if you like. Might as well."
"Right, right, right. Of course."
She sat down carefully, looking uncertainly at Algi as he blinked with all the languorous detachment of a sunbathing cat.
"You look disappointed."
Tanner flinched.
"I'm not. Just surprised."
Algi shrugged.
"Eh, be disappointed, it's a fair response. Eygi's always been popular, very good at attracting people, I just tend to cling like a limpet."
Tanned blinked, before coughing uncomfortably and signalling one of the waitresses - just a glass of citrinitas. She didn't drink it regularly, and had never felt tempted to buy bottles of the stuff, but she liked the little rush of energy it gave her during these... well, social engagements. Never comfortable with them, not totally, and even with Eygi present it was nice to have a little burning chemical reaction happening in her stomach, encouraging her to think faster, talk sooner, engage with the rhythm of conversation without so much damn nervousness.
"Did she say..."
"Heading off to meet with a friend in the city, someone she's known for a while. Didn't say when she'd be back. Again, if you want to leave, there's nothing-"
"No, no, no, it's fine. I'm fine. So..."
She drummed her fingers over her legs, exerting some of the nervous energy she'd hoped to be releasing during this little lunch.
"...weather's nice?"
"Tolerable. Tolerable."
He smiled faintly.
"You're a foreigner, I remember you mentioning that at some point. Mind if I ask something?"
Tanner nodded quickly, even as her brain murmured irritably to the contrary.
"What do you think of the kaff? I understand Mahar Jovan never quite took off with the concept."
"...that's right, we didn't. More... well, we prefer pubs in Mahar, and in Jovan you usually just drink with your lodge. Or go across the river."
Algi rested his hands over his stomach thoughtfully.
"Interesting. Interesting. I've been having theories on that topic, see. I mean, theories on habits of public dining. Judging really doesn't suit me, you understand. Nor does the law. I thought it might, father thought it might, but... anyway, I can't see myself sticking it out for the whole thing. Flirting with other studies, though, and I got to thinking... you know, there's this one philosopher, interesting fellow, he thought that pubic dining was possibly the biggest display of non-civility you could muster. I mean, when you think about it, people effectively surrender their autonomy when they enter a place like this, we cease to engage with the creation of our own environments, we surrender it completely. We effectively shirk our own responsibilities in search of comfort. And this is what I find interesting - you said you have pubs in Mahar Jovan, are those... particularly boisterous?"
Tanner blinked.
"A bit?"
She was already a bit lost. Not on totally even footing. Positively unmoored. Algi paused for a few painful moments, clearly expecting her to say something else, but... well... Tanner shrugged.
"I mean, they're not very quiet. People go there to get drunk."
Algi stared at her for a moment longer before continuing.
"Right, yes, of course, drunkenness. Point is, there's something excessively public about that, you just don't get the same thing here in Fidelizh. Boisterousness means performance, and we're performing constantly, what with the gods riding around on our backs and all that superstitious gubbins. Even us judges, what with our capes and our silly little rules, we're always performing. So you come here, and what do you find?"
He gestured vaguely. Tanner blinked again. Blinked a few more times, too. She wasn't stupid, she just... this wasn't her field, and when Eygi was around she usually just deferred to her guidance on these matters. Now, ask her about the law, and she might have some thoughts, but she'd come here with her brain ready for a bit of a shut-down. Catharsis was, by necessity, not a very intelligent thing. It was meant to be stupid and silly, but... well, none of these thought were doing her any good. She struggled to think. Algi's smile dimmed slightly.
"Shutters. A hidden backroom. Distinct lack of decorations. Most of the time we don't even have signs - a kaff is a home without the burden of homeliness, it's the public sphere but without all the little elements that make the public sphere stressful. Pubs, lodges, they likely make sense when you want to socialise in order to relax, but here... Fidelizh is such a stressful little place that our equivalent is just a backstage. Somewhere to hide between scenes, let the costume slip, have a wheeze on a cigarette, a glug of water... no more acting. No more pretending. A nice sacred area where we can finally give into ourselves. Permitted to be authentic. Interesting thought, hm?"
Tanner nodded.
"Oh. Yes. That's... well, that is very interesting. I suppose... well, I've never seen a waitress with a god on her back."
"Yes, yes, exactly. Nothing of the sort, because they're signalling 'it's alright to calm down, relax, shuck off expectations'. I imagine this is what Mahar Jovan does in its whorehouses, but for us, odd creatures that we are, it has to be a spot like this."
Tanner blushed slightly at the mention of that particular profession. Sipped her citrinitas, and struggled to... it wasn't that she was failing to have observations, it was trying to filter them to the most salient points. In talking about authenticity and the removal of expectations, Algi had basically just imposed a whole new set, of being philosophical. She felt like she was being examined, and... wait, wait, maybe there was something in that, something good she could bring up, and-"
"Wonder if it's different because you have kings. I mean, sometimes I think we kicked out our king, and had to make a show of not needing him, not needing anything of the sort, and the Golden Parliament was really just pretending for a while. Pretending until we all played along. We're all just acting our way through history, hoping that sooner or later we'll really, really believe it. Kaffs are secluded because we're ashamed of them, we're like... you know, we're like those mutant-hunters who have to get told not to paint naked women on the side of their boats, because it's obscene, and it brings shame to a profession the Parliament says is the finest thing this side of the Tulavanta. They lionise them, paint them as knights in shining armour, defenders of our land, and then what? We have to force them to obey the performance, because if they start acting contrary to it, then why don't we all? It's a combination between social control and state-enforced schizophrenia, in my mind. The state suffering from imposter syndrome, and insisting we all get infected with it too, just to keep them company."
...and the conversation had moved on. This was the problem, she had thoughts, but they moved in variable directions, took time to reach her lips, by the time she'd narrowed it all down, the conversation had already moved on. Probably why she liked hanging out with Eygi, she tended to dominate the conversation, brought enough people to fill out the silences she left behind, generally breezed through everything with the light ease of a professional hostess. Algi, though, expected things from a conversation, and she just... well, if she nodded her head and hummed approvingly, she sounded like an idiot playing along. Which she wasn't. And if she tried to contribute at the right times, her thoughts were half-made and never went anywhere.
"How's your hand? Last time, you were, uh, complaining about the automatic quills, and-"
"Oh, fine."
Silence reigned with an iron fist.
Tanner tapped her glass.
Algi looked at her strangely.
"Gods, it's like seeing someone with a missing arm, still adjusting to the weight. You really miss my sister, don't you?"
"No, no, no,. Just thinking."
"Hm. Well, you've definitely got the air of a lost puppy. Sorry about... anyway. Don't worry, you're not the first one of her friends I've made uncomfortable."
"I'm not uncomfortable."
"Sure."
He smiled dully.
"There's no shame in it, of course. But... well. My sister always does it. Goes somewhere new, attracts a whole array of people to follow her around, is effortlessly lovely and charming despite also being deeply peculiar... trust me, she's a giant pot of honey, and around her the bees doth cluster."
Now Tanner was feeling uncomfortable. She didn't like the idea of Eygi being... that way. Made it seem like her friendship with Tanner was less meaningful. For Tanner, it was meaningful. First real friend she'd had in years, first person to treat her nicely and take her out for countless little meals, first person to really open up a window into the world where everyone else lived. Someone she could see herself spending the rest of her life with, as a valued colleague. Even if Eygi wasn't... the brightest, according to her test scores, Tanner was still eager to stick around her. Eygi had come to mean catharsis, comfort, sociability. If Tanner was a social cripple, then Eygi was her loyal crutch. Hard to imagine being without her.
"Well, never mind me."
He smiled strangely. Something in it she didn't quite relish seeing.
"So, lodges..."
Tanner sipped heavily from her citrinitas, and began to knead her dress under the table.
She never forgot her visits to the kaff.
And despite her best efforts, she wouldn't forget this one, either.
* * *
"Ah, Tanner, oy-oy. I... thought I ought to pop by. Let you know, and all that."
Tanner glanced up from her little vinegar-filled dipping pot, the firelight dancing in her sombre eyes. She hummed, inquisitively, even as happiness pulsed upwards from her stomach. Wonderful to see her, as usual, wonderful to feel like someone was going out of their way to find her. Dinner, then? Late lunch? Drinking? Some sort of celebration? It'd been months since that awful lunch with Algi, and she was eager to erase the memory with as any Eygi visits as possible. Already managed it, even if his words about her... being some sort of honey pot for the bees kept swimming around her brain with unnerving endurance. Come to think of it... Eygi looked different. Very different. Her cape was gone, and her dress was more elaborate. Her hands were covered in soft buckskin gloves. And her teeth... her teeth were capped. Little pieces of ivory, replacing the broken parts, forming this... strange, decorative maw. Had her teeth broken accidentally, and she'd taken advantage? Or was this some strange fashion in the colony she called home?
Regardless, Tanner was eager to hear what she had to say.
"I'm off."
Tanner blinked.
"Off? Is it a restaurant, or-"
"Off. Off I pop. Away I go. Onwards I slither, slide, and amble, thus and therefore, I depart."
Her smile seemed forced. It never seemed that way before. Tanner was frozen, the happiness in her stomach slowly descending, cooling, hardening. From a burning orb to a solid sphere.
"Going? Where?"
"Back home, you silly goose."
"...it's not a holiday, though? Is... did something happen?"
"...oh, Tanner, my beloved tapeworm, I thought you understood. You must know that not everyone stays here the full course?"
Tanner left her pot on the mantelpiece, advancing slowly, hands clasped in front of her stomach. She leant forwards slightly, eyes bright.
"Did you fail something? I could probably help, you know I-"
Eygi grinned.
"Not at all, not at all! Didn't fail anything, not in the slightest. But... well..."
She paused, sitting down on a vacant bed.
"I'm nobility, you understand. Rather on the wealthier side. Algi, bless him, he's... not exactly fit for running things. Father's convinced he's an odious creep who'll be marching off to do something silly with himself sooner or later. He'd have just sent him here, done a few years of study then marched back home with discipline in his mind and law in his brain, all the things a budding administrator needs to get started, but... well... he didn't quite trust him. Flighty fellow. Needs me, and all that. Little bit of insurance in case the sibling flies the coop."
Tanner was frozen. Her voice was small.
"What?"
Eygi sighed, twisting her fingers with unusual energy.
"It's... well... over here, nobles send their sons to the judges for a few years of slapping around and education, then they drop out and come back home to run the estate. Algi ought to have done it, but... well, father didn't trust him quite enough. So I headed off with him. And now I'm heading back. Father wants me to learn how to manage things off at the colony, make sure I know the ropes. Algi, too. He likes backups, father."
Tanner almost wanted to splutter in surprise, but she found her lips were too frozen.
"...you never said."
"Oh?"
Eygi tilted her head to one side, smiling strangely.
"Didn't I?"
"No. No, you didn't. I'd have remembered."
"I... suppose you would've, yes... well... goodness, are you sure? Why wouldn't... anyway, anyway. I'm heading to stay at a friend's tonight, shipping off tomorrow by train. Now, you take care, you giant lug, won't y-"
Tanner moved abruptly forwards, her eyes wide.
"You never said. Why didn't you say?"
Eygi flinched backwards, shuffling slightly over the bed.
"Well, just never came up."
"You're leaving tonight, and you just didn't... tell me?"
"...well, it must've slipped the mind. We'll stay in touch by letter, naturally, I was popping by to give you my address - I'm sure we'll bump into each other again, of course! But, ah..."
Tanner was utterly paralysed. Eygi was her friend. Why wouldn't... oh. Oh. She could see it. Painful to bring up. Tanner could see herself doing such a thing herself, making that sort of an error. Just... not bringing a thing up until it was late. Eygi was such a little mover and shaker, she was always associating with all sorts of people, moving in all sorts of circles, proper little noblewoman - doubtless the painful idea of bringing up her departure had been so unpleasant that she'd just... neglected it. Put it out of her mind over and over and over until... now. Sitting in front of her, dressed in the loveliest sky-blue dress, with her teeth properly capped and everything. Only at the last moment could she build up the courage for it. It made sense, really. They'd been to a thousand little outings together, having lunch, breakfast, brunch, all sorts of little snacks, random trips to parties where Eygi swanned around with effortless ease, her brother sullenly trailing behind her. It took effort to cut a tie like that, great effort, and Tanner could easily see how the challenge would've been too umch for her. It'd be too much for Tanner, honestly. Poor thing. Tanner forced a smile onto her face, relaxing her posture very slightly.
"I understand."
Eygi stiffened, her face twitching very slightly.
"You do?"
"Yes, yes. I'm... sorry for being a bother about it. It's awful to see you going, but..."
She hesitated.
"...would you mind? I just... well, it's from back home, we have... a little thing we do for people going away on long journeys."
Eygi blinked.
"Ah."
Her face remained flat
.
"I see."
"May I?"
Eygi shrugged airily, though her eyes remained fixed on Tanner, and her mouth remained a thin line.
"Oh, go on. Might as well."
Tanner reached out, placing a hand on both of her shoulders. Felt small, and they shivered slightly under her large, strong fingers. Eygi was... delicate, compared to her. Odd, thinking about how much emphasis she placed on her. Might well say that Eygi was her closest friend, her only friend, didn't really know anyone except through Eygi. Never connected to anyone like she'd connected to Eygi. First friend she'd had in Fidelizh... first friend she'd had in years. Back in Mahar Jovan, just years and years of being alone, hard-working, eremitic... years of being with the lodge, who observed her constantly and dictated her behaviour with stern arbitrariness, all to make sure she cultivated luck for them, and not for anyone else... and then Fidelizh came along, and Eygi had breezed into her life to just illuminate it. Bought her food (which no-one else did), took her out (which no-one else had), chatted with easily familiarity...
Going. Going away. Not her fault, not her fault at all. Tanner didn't blame her one bit, almost pitied her.
She murmured words of the lodge. Words of luck cultivation, of defence against witchcraft, all in an old, archaic language she only knew a few incantations from. Witchcraft was especially dangerous out in the wilds - she cursed the witches, invoked godly defences against their work, wished the cooling of their malice and the softening of their eyes, blessed Eygi with the little protections of the lodge. Not a full member, but that shouldn't matter - Eygi deserved this sort of thing. She'd lit up Tanner's silly little life, and... she deserved it. When she came to a stop, minutes later, her face had broaded into a sad smile. Eygi blinked a few times. Patted her hand gently, nodding once or twice.
"Ah. Splendid. Terribly good of you."
Tanner hesitated...
Then wrapped her up in a hug.
Eygi was stiff as a board, and patted her a few times on the back.
"Oh. Ah. Well, goodness, that's terribly nice of you. Terribly nice, my large friend, terribly nice."
Tanner squeezed her as tightly as she felt reasonable and safe, feeling how thin her bones were, how brittle she was, how easily Tanner could squash her into a small ball... released her, feeling dampness in her eyes. Eygi blinked. Brushed hair from her face .Stood up sharply, brushing her dress down with short, curt motions.
"Well."
She clicked her heels slightly.
"Well, ah, I'm off. Stay in touch though, won't you, Tanner?"
Tanner tilted her head to one side.
"You didn't leave your address."
"...no, no, so I didn't. Terribly sorry... hm, I don't suppose... well, silly thing that I am, I left some paper back in my case, and... ah, I see, you have some paper with you. Well, that's wonderful. Now, my address is... this, so right it down... ah, you have a quill, too, that's very good of you..."
Strange. She'd come to deliver her address, but she'd forgotten ink and paper? No, no, Eygi was just forgetful. Well, forgetful sometimes. Tanner took down the address, correcting Eygi once or twice - silly duck that she was, she missed a few numbers from the postal code, needed reminding. Tanner intended on checking, afterwards, if she'd gotten it completely right. Poor thing was probably frazzled.
"Would you like me to carry-"
"No, no, no, all handled, all handled."
Oh.
Shame. Tanner thought she could... well, for old time's sake, carrying her bag around. She'd done a lot of carrying her bags around, really, Eygi had always appreciated her for it, gave her small treats whenever she did so. Like rewarding a loyal dog. But now... Eygi just clicked her heels again, flashed a winning (and eerily completed) smile, and gave a jaunty wave.
"Well, ta-ra, big lady. Lovely knowing you!"
Tanner stared, eyes brightening.
"It was... it was lovely studying with you, Eygi. Really, very lovely. I'm very sorry to see you go."
"Very sorry to be leaving!"
She started walking towards the door, a little faster than usual.
"Stay in touch?"
Eygi called back over her shoulder.
"Oh, yes, yes, stay in touch, of course, of course, very much so. Have a pleasant course, Tanner, won't you?"
"Yes, definitely, definitely will. I can walk you to the exit, you know, and maybe we could-"
"No, no, not necessary in the slightest, need to, ah, pop by some other things first, a few other people I have to say goodbye to. Well..."
She paused at the door, and bounced on her heels slightly.
"Uh, well, goodbye, Tanner! Thanks for all the help with the bags and, uh, whatnot. Oh, incidentally, you can have my bed. I think you said yours was always too small, well, just grab mine and haul it over - slap it next to yours, or in front of it, or however the arrangement works out. Little, well, ah, parting gift? Should be more comfortable, I suppose?"
She was stammering more than she usually did. Tanner clasped her hands together tightly, invoking luck as strongly as she could, the firelight casting her face halfway into shadow.
"Goodbye, Eygi. I'll..."
She was already leaving.
Tanner was alone.
She stared at the little scrap of address in her hands. A tiny scrap of paper. Last point of contact with the first and only friend she'd made in Fidelizh. An abrupt ending to over a year of friendship. They'd been in plays together, Eygi had helped her become more confident, Eygi had been her primary point of contact with the rest of the students, she'd...
She was gone.
And Tanner lingered, her fingers stinking of vinegar, her hair almost luminous in the firelight. Her eyes slid over in the vague direction of Eygi's bed. Two years. Two years of being with the judges, and... well, Eygi had just been a fixture. Gone. She walked slowly over, the room uncanny with its emptiness. The bed was freshly made, and she tried to sit down on it. Felt wrong, felt not-her. She shifted uneasily, feeling her skin crawl. Gosh, just... gosh. And Algi was off too, presumably? Both of them, and... well... without them, she didn't... did she know anyone? She'd never really initiated the whole... dining thing, that was always for them to execute and for her to follow along with, so... well... what was she meant to do now? She felt a strange empty place open up in her stomach. First real friend since home. Sort of... assumed that Tanner and Eygi would be a fixture of the judges from now until forever. Just thought...
Not sure what she thought.
Two years.
Just like that. And in all the years to come, Tanner would never forget this one memory, of resting her large head in vinegar-scented hands, feeling Eygi's bed creak beneath her, unused to her weight. Feeling each breath and each blink, each sluggish thump of her heart. Too shocked to cry.
Just like that.