Once Cassandra was in Alis’ possession again, she trembled, and wrapped her arms around the petite flowerbud. A gesture that turned into a forceful hug. Cassandra wheezed in the other’s embrace, but Alis didn’t care. She maintained their closeness till the last pebble of fear had tumbled off from her heart.
In Alis’ eyes, Cassandra could gasp for air all she wanted, because it was that rascal fault that she’d felt so dreadful to begin with... It was true. When Alis saw that the little girl was gone, her world started to collapse. She full-heartedly believed that her shameful secret had been discovered and that the child therefore had been removed from her undeserving hands. But fortunately, this scenario had merely been an illusion crafted by her own deep-seated insecurities.
Cassandra felt the other’s distress to a choking degree. She tried to wrestle herself out of Alis’ loosened grip, yet she still managed to fail. Her vision was beginning to blacken, when she managed to wheeze out a question. “Are you okay?”
Like a spell it worked. The teen released her former death-grip. Briefly, appalled by her own actions. Then she whisked away her hands that had posed as the threat and said, “Sure I am… Haha,” in an uneasy chuckle.
Alis awkwardly swiped some hair behind her ear and changed the subject. “Cassandra, you’re so cold. Did the Marshal forget to dress you properly? Sigh… What a dunderhead.” she bemoaned, safely out of his ear’s reach. Seeing as Cassandra didn’t feel like mocking the guy together with her, Alis coughed, “On to other matters, I believe that Lady Dray will be summoning us all for dinner tonight. It’s because your father has returned, and I’ve heard whispers that he’ll be announcing some grandiose news… So… Let’s change your dress and get going. Perhaps into something warmer?” Carefully, the teen gathered Cassandra’s chilled hands in a nursing hold, then she huffed at their tips in an attempt to bring the ice-laced bloodworks some warmth. The damp shifts of air had Cassandra fight back a stiff smirk from invading her lips, along with a thought of her old mother. She couldn’t deny that it was kind of embarrassing to be cuddled like this as a former 19-year-old dude. But, what could she say? Hands off, I’m already 19 and then some? Like that would sound sane coming from a 2-year-old’s mouth.
****
Every member of the Dray family sat ready at the dinner table, except for the old Varon. The whole setting was lit up by copper lanterns that glowed with metid oil. Across the floor planks a bearskin rug rested, and upon the fieldstone walls hung paintings of legendary genosaurs next to the framed eggshells of old. It was a tasteful display.
Varon Dray, who had been away yet again on a time consuming business trip, inspected each of his children with wonderment, before asking his oldest child, “How have you been, Peres my son? Any luck in improving your riding skills? I’ve heard that you’re having a custom saddle tailored?”
The moment Peres was addressed he jolted in his seat. First thing he did was to cautiously check whether the attention was genuine enough before he dared burst out with glee, “Really? I have, father, I have! But I’m still not as good as Sir Daniel... What about your travels to the Twinheaded’s City of Seekers? Will you be telling stories about it tonight? Or?...”
His father smiled weakly, “Erh? Uhm… Perhaps not tonight, Peres… But tomorrow, I promise you we’ll spend lots of quality time together, just you and me… Well, uhm… What about you, Janet? Are the Irondanes’ tutor any good to you?” Janet took a glance at her mother then continued to pick at her veggies in silence. “Janet, sweetie? Is something wrong?” Varon Dray probed.
His inspection was quickly cut short by his wife, who commented, “Don’t mind her, dear. She’s been so overly emotional lately… If anything, it’s about time that she learned that sulking is a pointless endeavor.”
With his appetite now lost, Varon Dray settled his grease-stained knife and stared at his daughter in a mix of disappointment and guilt. He didn’t even feel like asking his youngest child what they had been up to with how guilt-ridden he was. The only thing he could muster was a heavy sigh and a disheartened slumb of his shoulders.
Goblets thudded against the table and mouths continued to chew and smack undisturbed. Until the shadow on their evening feast met Varon Dray’s tawny knuckles. Observing that the end to their little banquet had grown near, he announced, “A big celebration is nigh, my children… It’ll be held in honor of Ty Irondane as he tries to ascend to enlightenment.”
A quick knowing glance was sent in Janet’s direction as Varon Dray added, “Oh! And there’ll be lots of delicious sweets to choose from! Magnificent decorations will deck his dawn and there’ll be an assembly of musicians, who’ll all hail from the Sinless Bard’s palace! Now doesn’t that sound marvelous, hmm?” At the mention of cakes, Janet piqued an ear and her brownish eyes went glossy. Keenly, her father observed this change and his body thrummed with warmth once more. He did know his daughter, after all.
Cassandra felt mighty excited for the festivities while Lady Dray felt gripped by nausea. The upholstered pine green chair she was sitting on made a whining creak as she leaned back into it. Her gaze lingered at an unfinished plate. At its scraps and ruined composition. “Will that-, Gillard be welcomed too?” she asked her husband, almost close to vomiting.
“The Breeder’s son? Why yes? Does that displease you in any way, my dear?” the father replied, slightly baffled at his wife's visible disgust.
“...” Lady Dray folded her otherwise smooth forehead and confessed, “Yes… I’m afraid I shall lose my dignity should I be anywhere near that deform creature.”
Varon Dray understood his wife’s plight but had to disagree, “Well, you simply must persevere, my dear! For his father won’t do any business with people that treat his son differently! You know as well as I that Gillard’s currently his only son so please show some consideration, at least for now. If not for the poor child, then for our business and possible future heirs, please.”
The lady rolled her eyes and berated, “Settle your horses! I’m not that stupid to openly anger someone who comes from the breeding profession… As for any future sons? I believe Peres will suffice.”
Peres sank in his seat and implored, “But I must have a brother. I simply must!”
Snickers were made before a hand came down to ruffle up his combed hair. The boy gladly suffered his mother’s attack with a quivering smile. It lasted for a few seconds, then he heard her tease, “Why, I never said never now did I? Silly boy.”
Being so passionately joked around with Peres clutched at his fraying mane and muttered, “So I’ll have a brother?”
“Well… Who knows? If you beg me hard enough a miracle might happen?” Lady Dray knowingly gleamed with eyes hungering for the Varon, who in turn coughed uncomfortably.
“Now, now dear… Please don’t be like that in front of the kids.”
Cassandra nodded eagerly to her father’s words and wondered whether she would ever come to love this family or rot trying.
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****
The Drays decided to wake up early to leisure in the art of dressing up for the ascension, as it would take hours of finicky work to accomplish. Alis, who had also been invited to Ty’s ascension due to Varon Dray’s influence, was in the midst of adjusting Cassandra’s outfit when she unwittingly stabbed the girl’s flesh with a needle.
The toddler didn’t howl at the prick, but she did flash the whites of her eyes as the beads from her headdress jiggled. A flurry of apologies would be in order, but Alis withheld from doing so as the child neither blamed nor rebuked her for the accident. Without a fuss the needle was quickly pulled out, like it had never happened, and the process of tightening the expensive silk dress continued.
They both sighed in peace and silently soaked in the morning sun, when yet another needle went astray. This time into Alis’ own pink flesh. The girl stared at the needle protruding from her finger. This time she had to rave, “Ahh! I really hate these slippery pins!”
Once the dreary task of tailoring was done, Cassandra swayed innocently from side to side in the mirror, watching as the glistening fabric followed along. Although she had been a girl for almost 2 years now, getting dressed in such feminine clothes happened to be a rarity. Usually she would prance around in trousers wide enough to give the illusion of a skirt and a shapeless tunic to go on top.
The reflection she danced along with looked cute but also somewhat idiotic as her dark red hair had been matched with a yellow frock. Staring back at it she muttered to herself, “The resemblance is almost uncanny. I look like a fast food queen. A fabulous french fry dipped in ketchup!”
“What?” Alis asked as she wrapped her finger in cloth, puzzled by the foreign word.
Cassandra twirled around in panic and yelped, “Nothing!” in hopes that her careless chattering would be glossed over. Thankfully, the teen simply raised an eyebrow before she resumed tending her finger. As she wrapped the coarse cloth around, her lip curled with satisfaction. A look she would be sure to wipe off before leaving the safety of her room.
The grand celebration would be held at the appointed ascending pedestal: A flight of white marble stairs, leading up to a circle platform of the same metamorphosed limestone. Planted on both sides of the stairs, a forest of birch trees stood with gold laces tied to their branches. The birches were already in the process of trading out their luscious green leaves with ones of copper. And just like their pale trunks, a block of white marble stood tall on the platform. Hiding behind it the unremovable stains of black that had been so wistfully spilled over the decades.
From the pedestal’s heavenly view, the stairs descended into an opening where four huge tents stood assembled. They were long and large enough to accommodate Ty’s many guests. Who all came wearing a yellow or golden attire to match with the theme. No matter where you hailed from, the color yellow symbolized the five Divines, and the densest known shade of metia energy known to man. Thus it was the appropriate color to adorn on such a faithful night.
People gawked the moment he arrived. Like a lone star in the night sky, he stood out from the yellow-clad swarm. The star of the evening wore a red shawl that circled around his shoulders. It was a shawl long enough to create a train past his white robes. A beautiful contrast to his warm bronze skin. The young male completed the outfit splendidly. He had black short hair that cascaded over his sculpted face, and eyes that struck people as piercing. The color of baby blue.
Beside the youth stood his bonded partner. A successfully mutated genosaur of the snapper shifter breed. Their most distinctive features would be their elongated bodies and unique aptness for the hunt. A worthy partner indeed, for the young man called Ty.
Once the important guests had all arrived, the musicians kicked off the festivities with a traditional song. It was played with shawms, long tabors, and a cast of instruments that Cassandra had never seen before, but they sounded wonderful.
The song itself was rhythmic and essentially a more grown-up version of The Naming Song. With the purpose of revealing a man’s final name in life as well as to give him courage for the upcoming trial. In this world’s culture, taking up one’s final name was a great honor bestowed only onto those who succeeded in unlocking their own intia core.
A deep hum came from the minstrels as they sang:
Divines shall see and test this man.
Should he survive to make a stand.
Uhm-mm my guests, please pray for a while.
For his upcoming fateful trial.
Tymanra is the name he’ll earn.
If he unlocks the golden burn.
If he should fail the shawl shall bleed.
Any man should take this heed.
Uhm-mm, who knows, the shawl may bleed.
If neither, he should sow a seed.
The name might fit and so we’ll see.
Can they ascend and thus be free?
Uhm-mm, who knows, the shawl may bleeeeeed.
If neither, he should sow a seeeeeeed~.
People stood still as they listened, immune to the melody’s cheerfulness that was originally meant to uplift their spirits. Ty traveled three steps up the marble stairs and bowed as he declared, “I, Ty Irondane, son of Adelardus and Eloise Irondane, stand before you today in hopes of letting you witness my glorious ascend to the enlightened stage. As you all know, I might not make it. But I pray that if this should be my final hour that it’ll leave us all content and ready for the new dawn, with or without me... So please be merry! Celebrate and feast, for my sake! And we shall hopefully celebrate once more after I have succeeded. Divine motto like (Rise Divines, Fall Defilers! - May Defilers fall and the Divines rise - Let Pure Perfect! Sorry I haven't decided yet ₍₍ (ง ˙ω˙)ว ⁾⁾)!”
Thundering claps reached his ears and the banquet became alive. Hungry guests moved in herds towards the bountiful tables in search of food and drinks. They wandered from buffet to buffet. A stream of gluttonous fish, easy to get lost in for somebody as small as Cassandra. Other than tasting the wide array of delicacies, people also had the option to join in on a dance-circle that churned away in the middle of it all.
Cassandra was still the size of a baby goat and she clung vehemently to Alis’ skirt. She depended greatly on the teen’s longer limbs to fetch snacks for her. Alas, it was a battle to keep close to the buffet and not get suffocated in the process. Seeing as they were about to get squashed, Alis snatched a second handful of blueberry rolls before she joined a group of like-minded peers close-by.
Not before long, the group of giggling ladies formed their own little bubble of gossip with Cassandra standing awkwardly attached to the side. The former male found their snitching squeals utterly boring!
Cassandra sighed and began to look for an exit to somewhere else more exciting. She was close to flipping the nearest tablecloth aside to infiltrate its gloomy tunnel, when the festive music suddenly fizzled to a halt. Apparently, it was already time for the next tradition to take place.
The single ladies hurried their way over to the middle shrieking and galloping, including Alis. Cassandra shook her head lightly at their unabashed display, thinking that Alis would have been different. Whilst on their way to take part in the grand selection, Alis made sure to hand Cassandra over to Varon Dray, who happily obliged. Together, they witnessed Alis join in with the others on the ground. She became one with the group that resembled a bouquet of gilded flowers, eagerly waiting to be picked. They all sat patiently with chittering hearts and waited for Ty to get his blindfold on.
As the youth tightened the red fabric clinging to his nose, his father kindly explained to the audience, “As you all know, it is tradition to pick out a young lady. One, who shall be granted the honor of having the first dance with my son during one of the Sinless Bard’s proudest creations: The Blooming Daffodil dance… Now, raise your hands ladies. And let my son choose one among you.”
Cassandra saw a sea of hands rise up. They all tried so desperately to outreach each other. Some of the ladies even wore gloves to make a distinction, whilst others folded their fingers peculiarly. It was all part of the game.
The center of attention ran his fumbling palm through the masses. He sized up each hand carefully, then proceeded to grab a wrist. His chosen participant clumsily hopped forth as Ty loosened his blindfold. Once free of its darkness, he inspected the plucked flower and greeted, “Why, hello there Alis.”
His selected partner’s heart pounded with ache. It was so embarrassing for her to stand out like this, stared down by growds of bitter people, yet Alis couldn’t be any happier.
On the sidelines Varon Dray brimmed with pride. He clapped and shouted, “Good for you, Alis!” beside his unimpressed wife.
Since they were all distracted now, Cassandra took the opportunity to dash away. She ended up seeking refuge behind one of the farthest tents on the grounds. Its coarse linen barely concealed her shady figure, but she thought it better than going out in the plain open. She didn’t want to be found. Because if somebody should see her childish silhuet roaming about they would surely act on instincts and bring her back.
Of course Cassandra could just stay put and enjoy the unfurling of a majestic flow of dance-patterns memorized by hundreds of people, but that would be denying the fact that the place was teeming with bonded genosaurs dragged in by their partners. Genosaurs that she had to see up close! And if possible: Touch. The mere thought of it made her pumped. It would be so wonderful to experience a living specimen without having someone from her family hovering near to ruin the fun.
Cassandra had taken note that most of these interesting beasties were kept parked in a stable situated at the bottom of the ascending hills, and she was going to get there, one way or the other!
To reach the place undetected, Cassandra tied up her fluttering dress and remained mostly hidden in the thickets of witch hazels and tall grasses. Sometimes switching from tent covers to bushes. Everything was going according to plan till she heard the faint sobbing of a creature mixed in with all the distant roars and cheers.
The closer she got to the last tent’s bottom, the clearer the hiccups became. Her head peeked forth from the tent’s corner and from there she could see a small boy, about her own age, getting comforted by a spindly male servant.
Unlike Janet's horrible howling, this boy’s whimpers rang out as sweet and bleeding. “Wuuu… Want home,” the kid cried as he sought comfort from his servant. Said servant grimaced at the kid’s neediness, but allowed it nonetheless.
Cassandra could gander from the way the servant kept his eyes darting back and forth from the fun onto the boy that he wasn’t really there emotionally. It made her quickly lose interest in the disloyal adult. She shifted her eyes back to the sobbing boy and then… She discovered the real treasure hidden there.