I had no dreams or visions about Zarya this night. Unfortunately.
The room is sinking in bright morning colours and spicy herbal smells. It’s already getting pretty warm, and I’m trying to escape from a hot embrace of my duvet.
Somebody has put my breakfast on the table. It stood under a transparent dome-like lid.
I’m very fussy about food, but here I could eat anything with happy appetite and eagerness. Not to make a mistake again, I wrap a couple of crispy cheese buns in a silky napkin to take it with me.
When my greedy breakfast is over, I face a new dilemma: I can’t just go out in jeans and a bra, for my wrinkled T-shirt leaves much to be desired. I laugh imagining myself catwalking along the halls and castle corridors.
Oh, I wish I could see the long faces of castle inhabitants!
I’m in a great mood, and I don’t know why. Chuckling at my own thoughts, I open a carved door, I noticed yesterday, to find something to wear.
I’m right: it’s Avis’s wardrobe, for I see the most beautiful collection of long dresses: slaughterously red, mauve, black, sapphire, Persian- and jade-green, frost blue, soft and pale pink as the geranium petals. I’m slightly touching them to admire the material quality.
This must be silk, and that one is glossy satin...a heavy one for colder times with complex embroidery on the chest and collar is velvet.
Most of them are decorated with lace as thin and weightless as trembling gossamer in the wind; some are sparkling in daylight with tiny gemstones of different colours. I check up the polished wooden boxes below: only delicate Cinderella shoes could be seen.
I can’t help myself and put on one of the dresses. I like it at once, scarlet one, the most simple by design with no diamonds or gold threads but most alluring.
I’m admiring my own reflection: the dress was definitely made for me and no one else. I’m touching my waist and long flamboyant ballgown skirt. I’ve never found myself so attractive before and immediately start turning to have a better look at my body and the dress. Faster and faster with my hands in the air like a ballerina in her partner’s arms I’m whirling around with a joyful laughter.
I stop, panting and leaning at the vanity, looking directly in the mirror in front of me: dangerously glowing eyes, beautifully rosy cheeks and an arrogant smirk on fiery-red lips.
And I gasp.
It’s not me, in a looking glass, it is Avis! Gorgeous regal Avis everyone respects, adores, and, probably, fears. The Avis everybody wants: villagers, Kaleb and Zarya, Selina and Robin, but I. I am experiencing the same feeling when yesterday made Kaleb shift in my and Zarya’s presence. An exciting understanding of permissiveness, impunity, and cocky naughtiness I witness now in her chiseled and sarcastic countenance.
I’m anxiously looking at my arms, hands, and things around, experiencing a strong feeling of depersonalization: everything in the room including me is abominably unreal.
I’m shying from Avis in the mirror and hastily getting rid of the dress. The scarlet beauty is already in the closet, but I’m still trembling uncontrollably.
I’m breathing rhythmically, counting every breath I take while uselessly “ironing” the T-shirt with my sweaty palms on rumpled bed-clothes.
Before leaving, I promise myself to be a good girl in order to blend into the surroundings.
***
I find Kaleb in the library. He surrenders himself to the library mood: he is frowning over a book; the tips of his ears are red, piles of heavy folios and old, yellow scrolls around.
“Have you received the herbs from the village girl?” I don’t even bother to say “Hello”, for I’m anxious and want to ask him something.
Blondie starts. Some of the books that were at the perilous pile top are falling down. I pick the nearest and read the title aloud:
“Oblivion spells: treatment and prevention. What is it? I told you I don’t want any memories of hers!”
He grabs the book from my hands, “You must remember everything, lest people start asking questions. It’s a miracle nobody from the Eagle castle got tipped off about your return. What would you do when Prince grants an audience with him? Start asking you questions?” Kaleb is looking angrily at me.
“I’ll tell him everything, explain the situation...”
“And you both drink a cup of tea and talk about good old days?! Are you insane? He’s... well,” he takes a deep breath to tame his tamper, “he’s not as simple as you might think. When you obey his orders, he’s a generous ruler who gives lands to his loyal vassals and birdpeople, but when you are useless to him, you don’t have to wait long to to lose everything overnight. And don’t forget about his inner circle: advisers, associates, non-mage aristocrats, and the head of the Birdhouse: if they perceive your weakness, they would eat you alive!”
“Don’t shout at me, blondie! It is not your life that has turned upside down! How was I supposed to know your Prince is a powerful jerk?”
I promised myself to be lower than grass, but I just can’t talk to him normally.
“My life and the lives of all people in Hare Rivulets turned upside down when you suddenly vanished, Avis!” he almost whispers my name.
I feel guilty for being mean and meekly take a sit next to him.
“How are your first impressions of the castle? Are you pleased with everything? If you want anything just order any servant here,” he is trying to talk about neutral things.
“Everything is weird. The room is fine. The food is excellent: special thanks to your chef,” I answered mechanically in my tone.
He smiled vaguely and continued our painful conversation, “I’m not forcing you to do what you don’t want to, but the more you remember the more prepared you are. And it’s not about our history, politics, or traditions: here, in the castle, you are safe, but you can’t stay here forever. News is spreading like a bushfire. It’s just the matter of time Prince and all his henchmen know about your return. I believe he will not give you time to take a breath, but want you to deal with his problems immediately. You are his favorite...” he stumbled. “We will be with you no matter what, but we can’t protect you everywhere. There are some uninhabited lands where danger is waiting for you in every shadow and around every corner. You could be killed by a simple ghost! Don’t you understand?”
Rest assured for that!
“Just giving you information about all Nefeli lands won’t change the situation. We studied magic six years, and you have about a week when everybody is aware of your return.”
“I can’t be so famous here,” I’m muttering in strong disbelief.
“But you are,” he insisted stubbornly.
I hesitate but then ask him a question I wanted to ask long ago, “How a mage can control her powers?”
“Powers? Do you feel them?” he seems to be excited.
“I have a light wave coming from my fingers the day before yesterday, and I almost produced it again yesterday,” I said it as if confessing to a crime. “I don’t know how to control it,” I add somehow plaintively, avoiding the fact that I probably stroke my failed boyfriend-to-be slash ex-neighbour to death.
“When exactly did you have the power feeling yesterday? When you saw a ghost?” he asked.
“No, not at all. When... I don’t know the exact time, but it started when I saw Aella.”
“No wonder, she is the main source of our power. You are, presumably, reacting like a young mage who has just realized the power. Usually it happens as uncontrollable self protection when we are scared,” he explains to me.
“She? You mean the planet?”
He nods, “She’s the Goddess of all Sky Spirits.”
“Alright let’s talk about your mythology later?” I stop abruptly (what if she’s real and punishes me for not believing in her?!) “I mean to talk about your respectful Goddess a little bit later... You’d better tell me now how to control my powers.”
“We can’t control it without help when we are facing magic for the first time. That’s why we are sent to the Birdhouse Academy; there they teach us how to deal with powers.”
“You are not going to send me there, are you?” I ask him with fear in my voice.
“Never ever!" he laughs, "We are given amulets when first day at the Academy. It helps with unexpected power flashes. Like this one,” he’s showing we a chain on his neck with a tiny circle charm resembling a full moon. “Grownup mages don’t need them, but we continue to wear amulets in honor of the Birdhouse.”
“Where can I get mine?”
I hope I don’t have to embark on a quest to find the amulet in some wilderness full of ghosts and bog creatures?
“Zarya keeps your amulet. It was the only thing that was found when you disappeared. You never left the amulet or took it off. When I saw the chain in your chamber, I realized right away that something terrible had happened to you.”
It was an awkward and intimate moment; I pretend to watch one of the scrolls on the table, gazing keenly on them without understanding a word.
“I can call her now,” he is about to stand up, but I stop him, “Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself. I want to talk to her anyway.”
“I understand. Just turn to the right when you leave this room and go along the hall; soon you’ll find a white door decorated with birds: it’s her chamber. You'll know the minute you see it.”
I don’t move.
“Selina told me about the tradition of shifting. Why didn’t you stop me?”
“I would do it again and again to pledge my allegiance to you!”
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