Alyce deftly threaded the bodice’s laces into a bow, cinching it tightly over her dress. Her back immediately straightened and she let out a slow exhale, dropping calloused fingers over the compressing garment. Compared to the fine woolen Sanctus coat with its silk inner lining, her clothes felt coarse. Sensible and plain, dull grays and beige, unremarkable seams, completely practical. Thoroughly her.
House Is’et’s maid.
Her eyes skirted to the borrowed coat waiting on her bed. Though only worn for a short while, the fraying hems running along the coat’s edges, the unraveling embroidery floss on the cape, did not escape Alyce’s notice.
It piqued her curiosity, why a Sanctus mage’s garb would be in such a worn condition. Surely a noble status mage had the coin to purchase new clothes.
“I can't help but feel disappointed, Alyce.” A voice grumbled from an opposite bed. “Not even a kiss?”
Alyce leered at Bea, who was feigning a disappointed pout while swinging her legs over the footboard. “Is that what you do? Go about kissing strangers you hardly know?”
A sly smile stretched across her face and Bea flicked a hand to where the coat laid. “Well, I haven't tried it with this one.”
Rolling her eyes, Alyce felt bristly threads running along the inside of the coat’s cuffs. “Leave him be, Bea. He’s the honest sort. The poor lamb will mistake your flirting for earnest affections.”
”Is that not in my favor then?” Bea’s eyes brightened.
“You shouldn’t play with his heart if you’re not serious,” Alyce scolded, turning the sleeves inside out. She was amused to find that they had been clumsily altered, hiding scorched hems and sewn against the sleeves’ linings. “Ryles likes him and if our young lord learns you’re only mussing about, he’d be horrified.”
“Aye, true. And I still stand by the fact that he’s been sweet to my dear little sister. Lending you his coat.” Bea slyly agreed before tutting under her breath. “Such fine material, yet it's coming apart. By the looks of it, he should have gotten it replaced ages ago.”
Alyce could only nod, picking at the feeble thread holding the patched sleeves together. “Perhaps he’s waiting to do so when he returns to the Blue Sanctus.”
“Ah, the holy capital. Nearly forgotten he’s not here to stay,” Bea said, watching Alyce tuck the coat into a neat square. “A pity. I really was hoping he would be the lad to bring you happiness.”
“I’m content as is. I don't need a boy to assure my own happiness.”
Bea sighed wistfully. “That is certainly true. A single boy’s affection wilts before long.”
Alyce snorted in disbelief. “Is that why you have a collection of beaus?”
With the air of a priest delivering a sermon, Bea solemnly replied. “Excitement fades when things become predictable. Whereas you brew fire with flint and steel, I rekindle passion with a spot of jealousy.”
Slapping a hand over her mouth, Alyce made a choking noise, before dissolving into a coughing fit. “You are bad,” she managed to wheeze, taking Bea’s offer of water. “And who did you visit last night?”
“I didn’t. Well, not for what you’re thinking,” Bea answered, ignoring Alyce’s indignant huff. “Haddie was convinced something was amiss with the underground waters, so we stayed in the castle town with her relatives.”
Alyce frowned. “What?”
It was Bea’s turn to frown back. “Have you not had water since yesterday?”
Blinking, Alyce sifted through her memories. “I did but yesterday was a blur to me. After the cistern, I was exhausted, didn’t really mind my surroundings, so I hadn’t taken notice.”
“Really? But it's so clearly off, completely obvious!” Bea’s blue eyes darted to the glass cup Alyce held. “Every manor well, every pitcher, every vessel is filled with the most vile tasting water. Bitter to the tongue, enough to make you want to spit it out lest you take ill.”
Alyce’s forehead puckered, divots forming between her brows. Had she missed it on her last inspection? She had never heard her beloved wells turn foul before. As if sensing her uncertainty, the moonstone warmed against her leg, subsequently reminding Alyce of its true purpose.
Could it be because of the nymph? The lament’s infection? The spat I had with the Esphyrs? Could I have — Alyce nervously looked down at her water.
Gripping the glass between trembling hands, Alyce gulped. Water trudged pass her lips and she stiffened. This was not the crisp water that filled her with vigor every morning, greeted her with a lively and refreshing snap. The water felt weighted, slathering her tongue with a bitter coat. Its sour taste was reminiscent of a citrus’ white rinds; bearable, but unpleasant.
Slender fingers pulled the cup away from Alyce and Bea lightly thumped their foreheads together. It was a habit they shared with one another, an attempt to ease the other’s burdens.
“I know you’ll start fretting, considering how you’ve been the one checking the wells. But worrying about the water won’t change it now,” Bea murmured. “Haddie will most likely tell the Baron and we’ll do our due diligence to find the reason for the matter. The rest is the work of spirits and gods, far beyond our control.”
Alyce drew in a sharp breath, a memory breaching the surface.
You affect the waters.
The words reminded her of Ryles’ storybooks, dozens of short stories, myths, and fables. The clan that resided on the same drought ridden land. A desire to provide for Neburh and its people. An enchantment that potentially held the Decay at the borders.
The ability to change the water on whim.
Alyce trapped the air in her lungs as she considered the intruding concept. If she willed it, could she turn the water back to normal? Although…
She sighed, uncertain where to begin. For the last nineteen years, her own dealings with magic came in the form of runes. It was only in the last few days that she was submerged in what felt like a sea of magic. More raw and beautiful than the stationary carved sigils, but still wild, albeit controlled.
Perhaps she could ask Kytes, but his magic was also tied to runes, his spells amplified by crystals and stones. Most of the time. For a terrifying moment, she remembered the rune carved into his own hand, the angular sigil embedded into his flesh, dripping with hot azure fire.
She shoved the image out of mind, desperate to find something else to latch on to.
A dulcet whistle glided by the window, stealing Alyce’s spiraling attention with its song. Every note chimed like a summer bell and each peal swept away wisps of muddled doubt.
“That’s Esphyr Hollis, isn’t it?” Bea inquired, her face turning toward the curtained window. Despite her question, the maid’s blue eyes were bright, bewitched by the whistler. “What is she doing at the back of the manor?”
The trilling melody suddenly flourished, swelling and dipping erratically as if the ditty was not mere aimless warbling.
“It sounds like a conversation,” Alyce whispered, her feet padding across the floor. She peeked through the side of a curtain and spied the most unusual scene.
A cyclone made of black fabrics whipped around the mage woman. The back vents of Hollis’ dark coat billowed high above her waist while her shoulder cloak, blessedly pinned down by a brooch, rose and fell like turbulent sable waves. Her tightly braided ebony hair snaked toward the sky, as if being pulled by an invisible thread. Yet clearly none of this caused Hollis distress, who continued to whistle her perplexing tune.
Esphyr Hollis doesn’t use runes for magic. She whistles and… Excitement bloomed in Alyce’s chest. The air moves for her. She might be able to teach me…
“How to change the water back,” Alyce concluded her realization under her breath.
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Elder trees, their branches hefty with dark blue and purple berries, strewn the narrow back of the manor. The strip they claimed was very much overlooked, the trees thriving amongst unkempt grass, stretching for the golden sun and nurtured by the moist earth. It was these elders the maids would visit to gather elderberries for winter preserves. The same trees would also plague the maids’ room with an odorous musk when its flowers aged and decomposed.
Despite the occasional reeking inconvenience, Alyce was fond of the elders, just as much as the apples. The elders had the qualities of a two sided coin. Trees that provided fruit, ill advised to eat raw, but when boiled could be used for wonderful syrups and jams. Their leaves were verdant wreaths for the flowers and later, berries, but once disturbed, could churn forth a foul smell.
Alyce hurried to open the back door. Though her sensitive nose had not yet caught the whiff of distressed elders, a strong gust, like the one which surrounded Hollis, could very much yank branches and tug the leaflets.
The door squeaked open, unceremoniously announcing her arrival but only silence greeted her ears. The whistle chatter must have ceased since she left the maids’ quarters. Disappointed, Alyce turned to close the door.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Ribbons of air bombarded into the hall, knocking her hand away, and throwing the door back on its hinges. Alyce squealed, rushing back a few steps to escape from the windy assault, but the gust gave chase. It lifted her skirts and teased her hair, swarming the maid with herbal scents. Alyce clamped her eyes shut and remained as still as she could, fearful that the gust would do much more than yank at her clothes.
“Oh, come now!” A sharp voice cried out. “That is incredibly rude!”
Through the fringes of her tousled hair. Alyce made out the shape of Hollis marching into the corridor. Hollis looked to the left then snapped her attention to the right, eyes widening when she saw Alyce’s disheveled appearance. The maid’s usually neat auburn locks were crinkled into a mass like a bird’s nest. The breeze had also lovingly left what looked like bits of dried seeds in her hair.
With a noisy whuff, a sound that was between a whistle and loud sigh, the wind simmered into a breeze, though it still tugged at her skirts as a mischievous child would.
“I must apologize,” Hollis began to say, while glaring at the invisible entity at Alyce’s feet. “She only wished to greet you, but seemed to have changed her mind halfway when the door opened.”
A sudden rush chilled the back of her ankles and Alyce looked down. She couldn’t see …whatever this was… but each animated whiff of air was expressive, so much that she felt a tinge of pity for it.
“Don’t hide behind her.” The mage growled. “She’s unfamiliar with nymphs and you’re not helping. Go back outside where a normal breeze is supposed to be, not meandering and causing windstorms inside a house. What if someone sees you?”
A current skulked over her feet, so slowly that Alyce thought she heard disgruntled whining as it ambled away. Seed bits and dead foliage that had been blown in from the outside listlessly trailed across the floor.
“All of it,” Hollis said sternly. “Or do you want Alyce to clean up your mess?”
Alyce’s ears popped as a deep whir zipped past her face, followed by a great gust that snapped both women’s clothes and their hair toward a singular direction. A small column of dust began to whirl by the opened door, pulling all matters of loose debris into its center. It stole cobwebs from hidden corners and loosened old dirt from cracks. Alyce’s jaw dropped. The scouring breeze had left the hall spotless in only a few seconds when she would have needed at least a few days.
Hollis crossed her arms. “Showing off, are we?”
The air visibly tensed, suspending its dusty collection into a stand still. Scattering the lights’ pathing, drifting dust motes hovered under open sunbeams, turning the hallway into a dreamy haze. This only lasted for a few long seconds before a sudden squall flurried the debris into a spiraling spout, growing taller and making a hissing noise with the dried leaves. When the last clump of dirt finally tumbled its way into the duster, the grimy column flung itself out the door, slamming the door behind it with a bang.
In the silence that followed, Hollis scoffed. “A temper that one…” She told Alyce wearily. “She likes teasing others but when we try the same, she can never take it.”
Despite still being at shock with what she was seeing, bubbling laughter rose to Alyce’s lips. She couldn’t help it. This was a nymph? It acted more like a disgruntled toddler!
“Is it — she,” Alyce corrected herself. “Still outside?”
Hollis smiled, whether because she noticed the rectifying or the giggling, Alyce wasn’t sure. Perhaps the mage was worried that she would fear the presence of yet another nymph.
“She is and being an Aurai, a breeze nymph, I would wager she’s already forgotten her little tantrum.” Hollis sauntered for the door and beckoned Alyce through it. “You see, the Aurai ride their emotions and decisions on flighty whims. Which reminds me, I best send her off before she forgets to deliver my tidings to Thalhurst.”
Cascading notes whistled through the morning air and within moments, the excitable breeze swarmed around them again. Currents gushed at Hollis, pulling at her coat’s sleeves and pockets like a child looking for sweets. With Alyce, mild drafts tried to smooth out her messy hair and pick out the dried herbage.
“Dried fennel and star anise,” Hollis told Alyce when the maid plucked out several of the fractured pieces. “My signature to assure my Thalhurst colleagues that Kytes and I are well.”
The older woman pinched her fingers to pantomime an intention to aid and Alyce proceeded to bend her knees. Compared to the nymph’s windy attempts, Hollis’ human fingers were much better at setting hair and untangling knots. As she patiently waited, Alyce could still feel the constant breeze curiously swirling around their shoulders, seemingly very interested in this procedure.
“Esphyr Hollis, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” Alyce murmured when Hollis deposited the last of the dried herbs into her open hand.
“My dear child, no apology is required. It is as the Baron said. We are in need of a proper conversation and a discussion as to what comes after.” Scooping the herbs from Alyce’s palm, she added. “And yesterday was not the most ideal way for anyone to find out about their abilities. It should have been more like…this.” She closed her fingers over the herbage, denying the breeze from further poking at a few flakes. “You’re not afraid of this nymph, I suppose?”
Alyce glanced at her surroundings. She could feel the shifting air, but her eyes could not find the source. “I…I’m not sure.” The breeze made an audible sigh, hopelessly stirring the elders’ branches behind them. To her surprise, the trees only swayed, no foul scent emitting from the leaves. Searching the ground, Alyce also saw little evidence of any prior disturbances. With an amused huff, she looked back at Hollis. Whatever scene she remembered, the billowing gale had intentionally avoided the trees. “But we’re strangers so… perhaps if I can get to know her?”
The wind whined hopefully and Hollis’ eyes crinkled. “An introduction then.” The mage produced more of the same herbs from her pocket. “This Aurai is an old friend of mine, the first wind to visit my cradle when I was born.” Her voice was warm and reminiscent. “And to this day, she pays me frequent visits and helps carry my songs to my colleagues.”
“I didn’t realize they could be spoken to,” Alyce murmured. “Does she have a name?”
“Most nymphs don’t, at least not in a traditional sense. Only the ancient ones, who had a more direct impact on mankind and our history do. And even then, it is a mere adoption by what we call them.” The mage smiled crookedly. “Remember how I mentioned the Aurai might be a bit forgetful? We can name a nymph, but unless she hears it hundreds, thousands of times, spoken by multiple voices, she won’t remember. They have highly…selective hearing when it comes to names.”
High above them, the elders’ top branches rustled in agreement, as if the nymph was arrogantly looking down upon mortals.
Disgruntled, Hollis sighed. “As you can see…”
“Then how do you know which Aurai is her?” Alyce wanted to know.
The mage hummed thoughtfully. “I can see glimpses of her, but for those who cannot, they feel the pattern of her breezes, the way she tugs and twirls, or what we know as a ‘personality’.”
On cue, Alyce’s skirts began to flutter and she had to weigh down the lifting fabrics with her hands. “This Aurai…likes to play with clothes then?” She blushed when Hollis looked at her. “Earlier, when you were whistling, I saw all of your clothes flying about you. Only because …” Alyce pointed at the window that belonged to the maids’ room. “My quarters are there and I was curious to know what was happening outside.”
Hollis chuckled, nodded with understanding. “Didn’t realize that, I’ll remember to have my discussions with the Aurai elsewhere in the future,” she promised. “Our conversations are a bit shrill for some. But you’re correct. Clothes collect scents, bits of dirt, skin, all sorts of unattractive things, but for some reason that amuses her. Upon greeting, she’ll have every article on your body searched and scavenge whatever treasure she can find. Invasive,” Hollis loudly dictated when her coat sleeve yanked itself to the side. “And rude. But at least she only does that to people she likes and she has certainly taken a liking to you.”
Alyce raised a hand in thanks and a ticklish feeling blew against her palm. She giggled. “I like you too, I was quite impressed with your cleaning earlier. So much better than me.”
The puff swelled, surging past her fingers and reeled about her shoulders. An occasional nuzzle tapped against her cheek and she affectionately reached up to pat the air, though she felt somewhat foolish doing so.
“And now she’s smitten. Thrives on compliments, that one,” Hollis said wryly, opening up her hand to display a larger mound of dried herbs. “Pardon me for breaking this tender moment then, I do believe you promised to deliver my missive to Thalhurst.”
A fleeting caress stroked Alyce’s face and her heart ached at the touch, recognizing the gesture as a farewell.
“You’re always welcome to visit,” Alyce managed to say, though a little part of her knew the nymph most likely wouldn’t. Hollis did say the Aurai had a difficult time remembering.
As if trying to reassure Alyce, a squeeze enveloped her shoulders and a dim whistle brushed soothingly over her ears. Then the breeze glided away, cautiously stalking around Hollis and her offering before the herbs were immediately scattered into the air, consumed with great enthusiasm. The air whirred once more and with a final huff, a mighty gust bounded toward the cloudless blue sky, sweeping the herbal fragments and, to Alyce’s glee, bits of leaves away as souvenirs.
When she could no longer make out the pieces of shredded leaves, which quickly turned into black dots before disappearing, Alyce realized that since the nymph’s departure, neither woman had spoken.
The water, she reminded herself. I need to ask Esphyr Hollis about the —.
“Colleen.”
Alyce jumped. “Yes!”
For a moment, Hollis looked equally startled but quickly regained her composure. “I do hope you’re feeling better.”
“Yes, I…” The maid faltered, remembering the night before. “Well, truthfully, no. It’s why I came out to find you, Esphyr Hollis.” After a considerably long pause, Alyce went on. “Since yesterday, after meeting the cistern nymph, I kept hearing these cries and it worsened at night. It was so much that I — I asked Esphyr Kytes for help.”
A curious emotion flickered in Hollis’ eyes. “Kytes? And what did he do for you?”
Fishing out the moonstone, Alyce divulged further. “He helped me chase away the screams by breathing and counting. He even provided me with this crystal.” She swallowed. “He told me that I was hearing the echoes of the cistern nymph’s lament and she was trying to trap me in a memory.”
“And do you hear her still?” Hollis inquired, bracing herself with her arms.
Alyce shook her head. “I do not. Perhaps because of the crystal or Esphyr Kytes’ aid, I hear everything as normal. But…” She nervously took a step forward. “The water. I didn’t notice it yesterday but all the water at the manor, the castle town, its all gone wrong. The taste is foul, sour, bitter, like something had spoiled. The others think it is because of the wells, but I know it’s …it’s not.” With a shuddering breath, Alyce asked. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
“It could be several different things, all jumbled into one person and you haven’t the understanding how to go about it.” Hollis tapped a finger against her chin. “For emotions to take hold of any element and alter it into something less natural requires a lot of effort. And you mentioned the castle town’s waters changed foul as well?” The maid nodded glumly. “A lot of effort, indeed.”
“Effort is fine by me,” Alyce avowed, though fear heightened her voice’s timbre. “There must be something that can be done to change the water back. Some type of spell?”
Hollis grimaced. “There is, probably, and had I or Kytes have affinity with water, we would be able to tell you the exact workings, but…”
Alyce’s spirits fell lower. “So, you’re unable to help me?”
A sharp bark drew Alyce’s eyes up.
Bracing her hands at the hips, Hollis regarded Alyce loftily, reminding the maid of the Aurai that laughed at them from the trees.
“You might have noticed that Kytes and I don’t share the same affinity either, and yet he is my student,” she pointed out, her brows arched high. “Every aspect is touched by the same foundational elements, even between runic and natural mages. But when it comes to the natural world itself, I believe that I can be of more assistance there.” Hollis pointed at the hand, which held the moonstone. “Runic mages cast spells and as powerful as they are, it is not a spell that you need, Colleen Alyce, to change the water.”
Dare she hope? Alyce drew herself straight, clenching both hands over the crystal as if praying. “Then what is it?”
Hollis gave a chuckle. “It’ll take a bit of effort and it’s certainly not the most convenient way of approaching it, but it’ll work.” Her dark eyes became serious. “It is a conversation with a nymph that you need to do. And for that, we can begin at the closest well.”