--- AYMIAE ---
Aymi stood at the gate, remembering belatedly that it was the middle of the night. She’d been right about the presence of a spell to keep people out, because when she tried to pass through the stone arch, there was a soft buzzing sound.
The two people of sandfrost watched curiously as a glowing ball of light emerged from the top of the arch, buzzing around them like a firefly. Aymi wasn’t an expert on spirits, but when what she had first assumed to be a spell construct began talking, she figured that must be what it is.
“What business do you have with the Shelex! It’s the middle of the time of stars, if you by chance haven’t noticed.” It spoke with a high pitched childlike voice, the sound wasn’t unpleasant, but it was odd.
Aymi straightened her back from the slight slouch that had crept in when she hadn’t been paying attention. “I have business with the master of the house, I seek Harrel Shelex and I suspect they know where to find him.”
“The mistress is sleeping, like all the other mortals right now.” The sprit explained, hovering in front of Aymi for a moment before fluttering around Netun. “You’re strange, I’ve never seen someone so white.”
“Thank you,” Netun said, grinning. “I try.”
Aymi frowned, mistress of the house? Did that mean that Pastin was dead? “Can you at least let the mistress of the house know I’d like a meeting with her at the earliest convenience?”
“I already did.” It said dryly. “You mortals are always looking down on spirits, it’s always ‘spark, you’re supposed to call my father when I come home!’ ‘Spark, what did you do to my sparking doorbell?’ ‘Spark what time is it?’ it’s annoying. I’m never making a contract again after this one is over. You should learn that we can get things done perfectly fine without you telling us to!”
Aymi sighed, “Well, thank you for doing it. When should we come back?”
The ball of light flashed blue for a moment, and then started grumbling. “Nevermind apparently. The mistress woke up,” it sighed, “and now she’ll want to talk to you now. Mortals are so strange…just go back to sleep!” It muttered a bit and floated back up to the top of the arch, molding into the rock and out of sight. “I do allll the work around here, can you stabilize the temperature of a mini domain? Can you find a missing earring in less than ten seconds? I didn’t think so!”
Aymi watched the spirit uncertainly, but after a moment the front door of the manor opened to reveal an elderly man in servant clothes. He was plump, and he wore a grandfatherly smile. “The mistress would like to see you.”
-
The servant led Netun and Aymi into the manor, though winding hallways that looked just like any other house, without a sign to be seen of the rock that coated the outside. There were paintings of nature that decorated the walls, every other painting there was one that depicted a person, young or old, they all resembled Harrel and Hivren.
She’d never been here, but she’d attended several of the Shelex family gatherings with Harrel, so she recognised most of the faces. His cousins, brothers, his parents but younger, his nieces and nephews who were currently on adventures of their own.
The servant opened a door that was identical to all the others along the hallway and gestured for them to enter.
They stepped past the servant and appraised the room. Aymiae was met by two women, one around her own age, perhaps a bit older. This was Emelit. Her eyes were weary, and her bearing was authoritative. She was Harrel’s sister in law, Hivren’s mother. She was also the wife of Pastin, who had been -last Aymi checked- the master of the house.
The other woman was perhaps in her thirties, and heavily pregnant. Felosin was a classic beauty, and the heir of the Shelex line, she was also Hivren’s older sister and Harrel’s niece. It was news to Aymi that she’d finally settled down, she had an almost Harrel-like obsession with being out in the world, but the sharpness of her eyes hadn’t faded any, so Aymi doubted her wanderlust had faded either.
Netun examined them and sat down in the proffered chair, moving his gae back to Aymi and then between her and the two Shelex. The women were simply staring at her.
Aymi cleared her throat awkwardly, “I’m looking for Harrel. Where can I find him.”
Felosin finally stood up, placing her hands on her hips, her eyes hard with her constant soulsight. “Aymiae?! Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Sparks, it figures that you wouldn’t die, You’re made of tougher stuff than that, adventuring with uncle Harrel all that time. You absolutely must tell me the story of your survival!”
Emelit simply continued staring at Aymi, eventually moving her gaze to Felosin, “She’s…real? You aren’t being bewitched?”
“Mother,” Felosin said, seeming exasperated, “I would recognize the shape of that soul anywhere, it’s practically glowing with big letters saying ‘this is Aymiae, you know, that Aymiae.’”
Aymi felt a bit awkward still, but she nodded, “It’s me. I’m a bit…different in some ways now, but I promise you that I’m the same Aymiae that spent years adventuring with Harrel.”
Felosin nodded and glanced at Netun, “And who’s this?”
Netun glanced at Aymi, but he remembered the long conversation they’d had a few days ago about telling the Shelex the truth when they met them. “I am called Netun of the Alanerea. I serve as a mentor of sorts for our Aymi here, who has by happenstance been added to our numbers about…was it three years back?”
Aymi nodded, “Three years back.”
Netun smiled, “Yes, those three years have been enough for her to almost rival me in skill, which I hear is a specialty of hers.”
Felosin sighed, “Of course, you joined another unknown society of mages. I assume you’ll want me to gauge your abilities again? I’ll get the equipment.”
--- HIVREN ---
Hivren Shelex was tired of dealing with Reiaran politics.
Why was it such a huge deal to them that he was rebuilding the Ayfel? They weren’t even slowing down the production out of respect for the Hero, which he would have accepted much more gracefully. No, they just…didn’t want him to make it happen at all.
Hivren was starting to understand why Aymiae hadn’t tried too hard to restore it after the first couple of years, Hivren had effectively been wrangling with the magistrate and the nobility for three years by now, and it certainly wasn’t helping that he’d been back in Aubinere for most of that time, trying to convince his mother that she did not need to arrange a marriage right this moment, thank you very much.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
If this is what he had to deal with as the backup heir, Hivren shuddered to think of how much pressure must have been placed on his sister all this time. Mother had still gotten a betrothal arranged, but Hivren had managed to convince her to at least let him get to know the girl for a few months before it went any farther than that.
I digress.
Hivren was not in the greatest of moods when the expensive comm crystal his mother had sent back with him started flashing. After father died she’d insisted he keep it with him at all times, and like the dutiful son he was, Hivren took it out and reluctantly accepted the communication.
“...Hivren?” His mother’s voice sounded hesitant and worried, perhaps a bit scared.
Hivren felt his annoyance fade to the back of his mind at her tone, he knew his mother. Something was happening, something serious. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“I…I don’t know how to explain it. Someone came looking for Harrel, she said she knew him, and she also knows you.”
Hivren frowned, trying to think of who it might be, maybe Cada? He’d met her a few times, but his mother should recognize Cada. “Alright, but something else has you unsettled? What did she say her name was?”
“Hivren, I know who she is. That’s the problem, it’s Aymiae.”
Hivren felt a jolt of sudden shock, he stood up from his desk, bumping his head into the sparkingly low ceiling -really, tuvei were unnaturally short- “What?!” He shouted, rubbing his head, “But Aymi is dead? She burned with the Ayfel!”
“She didn’t seem very dead to me, Hivren.”
His mother, using sarcasm? Sparks that meant she really believed it was Aymi. It couldn’t be though, it was probably a shape changer, or a dragon in disguise…or…a skilled illusionist…
Sparks had she just faked her death? Hivren had halfway expected Eliax to appear one day, just stride into somewhere important and casually say something obscene while everyone was trying to figure out how she was alive agian. But Aymi? He’d mourned for Aymi. the woman who in another life might have been his aunt.
“Are you…Mother, are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure it was her. I don’t believe it, but she’s got the same soul and everything, Felosin checked and you know how she is with souls.”
“And you said she’s going after Harrel? That means she’s going to the capital?”
“Yes.”
“Tell her I’ll meet her there.”
--- NETUN ---
Netun smiled at the tired looking mother as she returned to the room. She’d claimed the need to contact her son, and Aymi had brightened slightly at the mention of Hivren. Netun wasn’t entirely certain his student’s history with the Shelex, but it was clear that they considered her to be almost family.
As such, Netun tried not to look for broken oaths in their words, he tried not to think about the deaths that every noble house was most assuredly built upon. He would be prepared for their betrayal, but he wouldn’t bother his student with the possibility.
He could easily see the person he’d once been scoffing at this, explaining how he had to keep tight control over everything, how he had to push away anything that might get in the way of his goals. His past self would have killed all of them by now without hesitation.
But seven hundred years of thinking had changed him.
Netun nodded as the mother sat beside him, examining Aymi and her daughter from the saide as they conducted a more delicate soul scan. She seemed a bit worried, but ultimately happy.
The mother smiled at them and turned toward Netun, a spell falling into place that he couldn’t quite get a sense of. It had the buzz of sensory magic to it, but that was about all he got. Netun sent the mother a curious look, “What’s that?”
“Privacy spell. I don’t want to bother them.” she was still watching Aymi. “How…has she been? Not blaming herself too much I hope?”
Netun frowned, “blaming herself?”
“She does that when something terrible happens. She always tries to tell herself that she could have fixed it. That she could have done better. I hope the fire didn’t start another spiral in her.”
Netun examined Aymi curiously, “You seem to know her well.”
“As well as anyone can. We were friends for a long time, we all assumed she would one day marry Harrel, and then she would be part of the family, but then the years passed and the two of them never announced anything. We waited and waited, but there was nothing.”
“She never seemed to me at least that she’s in love with anyone.”
“I’ve talked with her about it and she was always unsure about Harrel. She liked him, she liked him a lot, but he was always… somewhere else.”
Netun nodded, “That would explain why tracking him down is currently her top priority.”
She frowned, “Netun, is it? I know isolated mages won’t usually tell strangers about their personal works, but what exactly was it that made Aymi have to fake her death just to learn from you?”
He blinked, remembering the little tendrils of fungus that had been Turste and Aymi, he remembered the protectiveness he’d felt for them, the knowledge that these souls had gone through Aeinar itself because of greed. “The fire was real, the danger was real, and her method of escape left her wounded in body and soul, barely hanging on to life. She’s been gone for these three years recovering and learning what she can from me. Her unprecedented wounds are the reason I took her into my protection.”
The woman blinked, “You’ve saved her life then? In that case we owe you a debt.”
“No, Aymi owes me a debt.” He corrected, “And she’s already begun to pay it on her own.”
She turned to look back at Aymi, “There’s something different about her bearing.” she whispered, even with the privacy spell. “It’s Aymi, but the way she’s been talking, the way she’s held herself, the way she looks at things…She’s hiding something. She’s still wounded isn’t she? Is she covering bandages with an illusion?”
Netun shook his head, “All her wounds are in her mind by now, and those are only things that time can help. She is hiding something, but I suspect she’s going to tell you.” He blinked his red eyes and smiled back at the woman, “I’m glad she already has people who care, I had to find my own strength. But at the same time, she won’t be able to hold onto that crutch forever.”
The pregnant daughter raised her head and took her hands off Aymiae’s shoulders. The privacy spell fizzled out as the woman spoke, “I can hardly tell that there were affinities there in the first place, I’m sorry but they’re completely gone, barely a scrap or a scar on your soul remaining. But there certainly is something odd like you said in there, it feels like a shifter affinity but it’s different.”
Aymi nodded, glancing at Netun, “Well that answers that question.”
Netun nodded, “but it doesn’t answer all of them.” He glanced at the soul mage, “I have a similar construct, do I not?”
She examined him for a moment before nodding as well, “Once I know what to look for, it’s almost identical, yours is more beaten up, but it’s operational. Does this have to do with whatever magic Aymi is learning from you?”
Aymi was still thinking though, “I went through a huge physical change, why is my soul still almost completely identical?”
The pregnant woman looked at her sharply, “You were expecting it not to be?! Soul damage is not-”
“I wasn’t expecting it, but not much else is the same so I didn’t know.”
Netun cleared his throat, “are you going to explain to them or are you having too much fun dancing around that?”
“Sparking…Netun, how do you even say something like that?”
He stood up.
The two humans watched, the mother seeming worried and the pregnant daughter just entertained. Aymi frowned at him as he stepped closer, but she didn’t stop him when he walked up in front of her and simply...took off her necklace.
The illusion left with it.
Aymi took the chain from his hands and glanced at the humans, smiling hesitantly, her red eyes glinting in the firelight. “I ah…I might have been secretly turned into an entirely different species. It’s not a big deal or anything, I’ll just slowly die in the sunlight and…”
The mother closed her eyes, “Aymi…”
The daughter peered at her closely, “Interesting illusion.”
“It’s not-”
“It’s not an illusion.”
Everyone glanced at Netun, the two humans no doubt noticing the similarities between the two of them, the red eyes, the pale white skin, the colorless hair. “Okay, if that’s not an illusion then what the sparks are you.”