Jorvanultumn landed in the gathering room. Hedromornasta was there, seated on the floor at the low-table, meditating. A single dim flame-globe was the only light apart from the stars and a hint of moonlight. Jorvanultumn did his best not to disturb him.
Hedromornasta noticed anyway and spoke without looking down. “You and Diare used all the hpaks yesterday. It will be days before there’s more.”
“Yes,” Jorvanultumn said. “Sorry. Though Mikranasta drank most. Is she here?”
Hedromornasta still did not look up, though he took a deep breath. “She left papers for you in your room.”
“Thank you.” Presumably, those were the meditations Mikranasta had promised to write. It was more important he speak to her. He could pick up the papers later if he needed to. He spread his wings.
“Where are you going?” Hedromornasta asked.
Jorvanultumn hesitated.
“To find Mikranasta?”
Jorvanultumn folded his wings. “Yes, I need to speak to her again.”
Hedromornasta looked down finally, but did not turn to face Jorvanultumn. “She was summoned to a meeting with the Lamdritta. You can’t see her right now.”
“I see. Thank you. What of my diare?”
“At the same meeting.”
Jorvanultumn sighed.
Hedromornasta turned to face him. “Don’t you see, Jorvanultumn? It’s because of you.”
Jorvanultumn nodded. It was not surprising, though he had hoped it would take longer to happen. That was clearly naïve of him.
“You are eliïspt now, Jorvanultumn. Talking with your diare or mine will not change that. Take the papers Mikranasta wrote for you. They are more than you deserve.”
“That doesn’t seem to be Mikranasta’s opinion,” Jorvanultumn said.
Hedromornasta shrugged. “I am capable of having opinions different from my diare’s. She gives you too much. She always has. You are not her siare.”
“No one’s disputing that. But—”
There was a knock at the front door.
Jorvanultumn started towards it, but Hedromornasta leapt to his feet and rushed to the door ahead of him. “An eliïspt should not be answering the door.”
Jorvanultumn nodded and stood back where whoever was at the door would not see him. In this case, Hedromornasta was probably correct, despite his continued use of that slur.
When he opened the door, Hedromornasta groaned.
Meleng’s voice came from outside. “Hi, we’re...um...we’re looking for Jorvanultumn. Jorvanultumn?”
Hedromornasta stepped away from the door and motioned for them to enter. “Your human friends are here. They apparently expect me to understand their language.”
Meleng and Sinitïa walked into the gathering room. Sinitïa unwrapped her scarves and ran over to Jorvanultumn. “Jorvan!” She threw her arms around him.
“Why does she butcher your name?” Hedromornasta said.
“Among friends, humans tend to use only a portion of their names,” Jorvanultumn said as Sinitïa stepped aside to allow Meleng to come up and hug him. “I allow them.”
Hedromornasta scowled. “Allow it in Arnor, not here. It’s barbaric.”
“If you wish.”
Sinitïa bounced up and down, and nodded towards Hedromornasta. “Jorvan, are you going to introduce us?”
“Of course,” Jorvanultumn said, “but first, my name. You should—”
Sinitïa gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my! I’m sorry. I keep forgetting. Chiansamorkin explained why, too, and I’m not sure I really understand, but I’m really sorry. Oh, she says hi by the way and looks forward to seeing you again.”
“You met Chiansamorkin?”
Sinitïa nodded vigorously. “She showed me all around Chithishtheny. We went to…” Meleng nudged her. “Oh right, sorry about your name.”
“It is all right.” He would have to find time to see Chiansamorkin, though what would that reunion be like? He turned to Hedromornasta. “She apologises for misspeaking my name.”
“Good.”
“I’m surprised you care.”
Hedromornasta frowned. “You may be eliïspt but I am not a monster.”
Sinitïa nudged Jorvanultumn, and indicated Hedromornasta again.
“Yes, yes, of course. This is Hedromornasta, my…” For some reason, he had always found Arnorgue difficult to speak even though it was much less complex than Isyarian. Now, after speaking Isyarian for the last day, switching back was proving awkward. The problem was the translation for his and Hedromornasta’s relationship. He would just have to use the word Arnorins would assume. “He is what you would call my brother.”
Sinitïa scrunched her nose. “And you wouldn’t?”
Jorvanultumn shook his head. “Not exactly, but it is accurate.” He switched languages again as he turned to address Hedromornasta. “Hedromornasta, these are my friends, Meleng an—” He cleared his throat to cover the fact he had almost left off Meleng’s second name. Many Arnorin customs had become habit over the past two years. He needed to watch that so as not to cause more offence. “Meleng Drago and Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith.”
Sinitïa smiled and curtsied. She held up her left hand.
Hedromornasta recoiled. “What is that...bounce? And she is using the wrong hand.”
“It’s an Arnorin greeting custom,” Jorvanultumn said. “She is just a little confused.” Switching to Arnorgue again, he said, “The initiator uses the right hand, Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith, the responder the left.”
Sinitïa lowered her hand. “Oops.” She started to raise her left.
“Let Hedromornasta initiate,” Jorvanultumn said, and Sinitïa lowered her hand, blushing.
Hedromornasta frowned. “You should have taught them our customs. No wonder she offended Griholbovroh.” He stepped towards Sinitïa and held up his right hand.
Sinitïa straightened herself and stepped up to Hedromornasta. She was nearly a foot taller than he was. “Jorvanultumn, tell Hedromornasta I’m sorry I got the greeting wrong.” She placed her left palm against Hedromornasta’s.
After Jorvanultumn translated Sinitïa’s words, Hedromornasta sighed, but nodded. “Tell her I accept her apology.” Hedromornasta withdrew his hand as Jorvanultumn translated. He then held up his hand to Meleng, who responded appropriately. After they parted, Hedromornasta said, “If you don’t mind, I need to meditate.”
“Of course.” Jorvanultumn placed his left hand to his chest.
Hedromornasta returned the gesture.
Sinitïa placed her hand to her chest, and Jorvanultumn quickly shook his head. She dropped her hand to her side and blushed again.
There was a hint of a smile on Hedromornasta’s face.
“Pleasant thoughts,” Jorvanultumn said.
“And to you,” Hedromornasta said.
Jorvanultumn guided Meleng and Sinitïa from the room, stumbling over his words as he changed languages yet again. “We will go to my...my room.”
“I keep getting everything wrong,” Sinitïa said as he led them through the back corridors of the house. “I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Meleng said. “There are just things you don’t know. You’ll learn.”
Jorvanultumn led them into his personal room. “It is normal for visitors to make mistakes.”
Sinitïa pouted. “I suppose. Your bed’s really big.”
Jorvanultumn opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated. He had not expected the abrupt change of subject. “Yes, it...is.” He had never thought of it as big before, but it was bigger than typical human beds, though without all the added extras that human beds tended to have. Was it an inability to fly that caused humans to feel the need to elevate their beds?
He had not been in this room since leaving Chithishtheny two years ago. It looked unchanged, without even a hint of snow build-up. Someone must have been maintaining it. He suspected Mikranasta’s involvement in that. Davorultumn was unlikely to bother and Hedromornasta was even less likely—unless Mikranasta instructed him to, in which case, she was still involved. She did dote on Jorvanultumn more than was proper. Hedromornasta was not wrong there.
The papers Mikranasta had left for him sat on the high-table beside his element decahedra.
Sinitïa wandered about the room, her head turning every which way. “Your brother seems nice.”
“Nice is not a word I would use for Hedromornasta,” Jorvanultumn said. “However, he is...proper.”
Sinitïa frowned. “Oh. We keep meeting not nice Isyar.”
“What do you mean?” Jorvanultumn asked.
Sinitïa’s eyes widened and she scurried over to the high-table and stared at the fire decahedron. “Is that real fire in there?”
“Yes,” Jorvanultumn said.
“But there’s nothing to burn.”
Jorvanultumn walked up to her. “It is magic. It is called an element decahedron. These decahedra are what I practised with when I was young.” He picked up the fire decahedron. Its small flame flickered as the clear ice container moved. “They provide samples of each element in a contained space for young elementalists to manipulate.” He handed her the decahedron. “Be careful with it.”
Sinitïa tenderly took the decahedron in her mitten-covered hands and gazed at the tiny flame. “Is this ice? Why isn’t it melting?”
“Magic.” He doubted she would understand the technical explanation.
She smiled and held out the decahedron in Meleng’s direction. “Look!”
Meleng came over and took the decahedron from her. “It’s remarkable.”
Sinitïa pointed at the air decahedron. “Why’s that one empty?”
“It is not empty.” Jorvanultumn picked up the papers Mikranasta had left. “It contains air.”
“Oh.” Sinitïa frowned. “But there’s air all around us. Why do you need a decawhatchamacallit?”
Jorvanultumn smiled. “For safety. If the young Isyar makes a mistake and destroys the air, it is contained within the decahedron and does not destroy all the air in the area.”
Sinitïa gulped.
Meleng put the fire decahedron down and ran a hand along the wall.
“Can I paint them?” Sinitïa asked, picking up the water decahedron.
“If you wish,” Jorvanultumn said. While Sinitïa examined the decahedra, he approached Meleng.
Meleng retracted his hand from the wall. “Sorry. I’m just really fascinated by the idea of walls made of ice. And doors made of ice. And everything made of ice.”
“Ice is a readily available resource. And you do not need to apologise. Inquisitiveness is a positive trait.”
Meleng shrugged. “Yeah, but...you know me. We need to talk to you about a couple things.”
“Not nice Isyar?” Jorvanultumn suggested.
Meleng nodded.
“I heard about your encounter with Griholbovroh. It was not your fault, Sinitïa.”
Sinitïa was twirling the water decahedron around in her hands, watching the water inside swirl. “I know. Etiënne tried to explain it to me, then Chiansamorkin did. It’s a stupid rule.”
Jorvanultumn nodded. “It is, and you cannot be held accountable for not knowing it.”
“That’s good. I think.” Sinitïa put the water decahedron down and tugged on Meleng’s sleeve. Under her breath, she said, “What does accountable mean?”
“It means you can’t get in trouble for it,” Meleng said.
Sinitïa smiled. “Good!” She picked up the earth decahedron.
“Is that really true though?” Meleng asked. “Gen seemed to think Griholbovroh might try to make an issue out of it.”
Jorvanultumn groaned. “He might, but I cannot see others on the Council taking him seriously, especially not Paydamat. She has interacted with many visitors. She—”
“Ugh, I don’t like Paydamat.” Sinitïa slammed the earth decahedron onto the high-table, strong enough to make Jorvanultumn’s heart skip a beat. Thankfully, it held together.
“I do not understand,” Jorvanultumn said. “Why would you not like her?”
“That’s...uh...that’s the other thing we wanted to talk to you about,” Meleng said.
Sinitïa hugged Meleng. “She threatened Meleng. Meleng didn’t want to tell me at first, but I knew something was wrong, and he told me later. So I don’t like her.”
Paydamat threatened Meleng? “I do not understand,” Jorvanultumn said. “Why?” Paydamat could be stern, but she did not threaten people without reason.
“It was about Sinitïa and her lack of training,” Meleng said.
“She thinks I’m a terrible person because I don’t know how to use magic.”
Meleng shook his head. “No, she thinks I’m the terrible person for not making sure you were trained. She believes we’ve put Chithishtheny in danger bringing Sinitïa here.”
Jorvanultumn sighed. “I see.” He had not expected Paydamat to react so strongly to Sinitïa, but if she was concerned about the safety of people in Chithishtheny, her actions made sense. It was still unlikely she would support Griholbovroh against Sinitïa.
Sinitïa let go of Meleng and turned back to the high-table. She picked up the air decahedron and twirled it around. “Why won’t you train me?”
Meleng put a hand on her arm. “I’ve tried to explain that. I’m an enchanter and I just don’t think enchantment would be a good choice for you.”
“You think I’m stupid.”
Meleng shook his head. “No, you know I don’t. Just enchantment uses a lot of equations. You have to make a lot of calculations in your head. Do you want to do that?”
“I don’t even know what means, so how can I know if I want to do it?”
“It’s like math, only a lot more complicated.”
“Like adding and subtracting?”
“Kind of,” Meleng said.
That was an understatement. Jorvanultumn had seen some of the “adding and subtracting” Fevionawishtensen had to do. He was glad he was not an enchanter.
“I might like that,” Sinitïa said. “I don’t know.”
“You need something more instinctive, Sinitïa,” Jorvanultumn said. “Perhaps conjuration.”
Sinitïa’s eyes brightened. “Chiansamorkin said she’s a conjurer. Is that the same thing?”
“Yes,” Jorvanultumn said.
“Could she teach me? I really, really like her. She’s really friendly, and her eyes are so beautiful.”
Jorvanultumn lowered his head. “I am sorry, Sinitïa. Isyar are forbidden from teaching magic to non-Isyar.”
Sinitïa put the decahedron down and turned away from both him and Meleng. “That figures. Stupid Isyar rules.”
“Even amongst Isyar, we are limited in what we can do,” Jorvanultumn said. “We can work and study together, but we can only truly teach our siaree.”
“I don’t know what the means either. See, I’m just stupid.”
Meleng went up to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
Sinitïa leaned her head on Meleng’s shoulder. “I know. I just don’t want to be the reason Paydamat and other Isyar hate you.”
“I don’t think Paydamat hates me. She just...well…”
“She scared you.”
“Well…”
“Don’t try to say she didn’t. I saw you. I’ve never seen you so scared.”
Meleng nodded. “Yeah, she scared me. She took control of my whole body and I didn’t even see it coming.”
Jorvanultumn closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. This was not right. His friends should not be treated so. “I will take care of this.”
“What are you going to do?” Meleng asked.
“The Lamdritta is currently in session. I am going to speak to them.” If he could get in, but he did not add that. He spread his wings and a twinge of pain spread through the injured one. He winced.
“Are you okay to fly?” Meleng asked.
“I will be fine.” His time with Fevionawishtensen last night had aggravated the injury a little. He probably should not fly right now, but speed was of the essence. He did not know how long the Council had already been in session or when they would be finished.
Meleng frowned.
“I will go easy on it. I promise.”
Meleng sighed, but nodded.
“Say hi to Chiansamorkin for me,” Sinitïa said.
Jorvanultumn hesitated. “Why would she be there?”
“She’s a Lamdir,” Sinitïa said.
“Chiansamorkin is Lamdhir?”
Sinitïa nodded. “That’s what I said. She just became one. The old one died and she won the spot. She says she’s way more powerful than any of the others except maybe Paydamat.”
Jorvanultumn lowered his wings. He supposed he should not be too surprised. Chiansamorkin had phenomenal talent, even amongst Isyar. But to have learned to utilise it fully at so young an age? He could not think of anyone else rising to such a position so young. Still, having her on the Lamdritta could be beneficial—assuming she did not still hate him.
“I will say hi for you if I get the chance, Sinitïa,” he said. “I will see you both again soon.” He raised his wings again and flew threw the open roof.
* * * * *
The sun was reaching its highest position over the mountains to the south when Jorvanultumn landed at the Governance Building. As he entered, he opened his inner eyelids to allow in more light. As a building with a covered roof, it was lit inside only by flame globes.
It took only a moment to learn from people in the entrance hall that the Lamdritta were still in session, presumably with his diare and Mikranasta. He knew the way to the main conference hall. It was quickest to fly, but Meleng’s earlier look lingered in Jorvanultumn’s head and his wing was aching a little. There were stairs which wound half the circumference of the entrance hall. Using them would add very little to his travel time.
Two Hgirh, one of them Fevionawishtensen, stood at the conference room doors. Before them, however, another Isyar slumped on a stool in the hall, his bent wings hanging loosely to either side, one touching the floor. Jorvanultumn stopped beside him.
“Itra.”
“I was summoned,” Itra snapped.
“I never said otherwise,” Jorvanultumn said.
“But you were going to ask what I was doing here.”
“Yes, but I did not mean to accuse—”
“I have been asked that by everyone since arriving. By some twice.”
Jorvanultumn bowed his head. He should have realised Itra would have been heavily questioned as soon as he stepped foot in the building. “I am sorry. I will not disturb you further.”
He turned away, but Itra called after him. “You are Davorultumn’s siare, yes?”
Jorvanultumn looked back. “Yes. You know my diare?”
“I do. He is a good man.”
“Yes, he is.” Davorultumn had often agreed with Jorvanultumn that the treatment of Itra was unfair, but he had never mentioned having any actual contact with Itra. “Thank you. May the night be short.” He placed his left hand over his chest.
“May the night be short,” Itra repeated, his own left hand over his chest.
Jorvanultumn turned away from Itra and walked up to the conference hall doors. “I need to address the Lamdritta.”
Fevionawishtensen shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
“It is important,” Jorvanultumn said.
“The Lamdritta are in session at the moment,” the other Hgirh said. Jorvanultumn did not recognise him, though Hgirh were sometimes rotated to different towns, so he could be new here.
Jorvanultumn held up his left hand. “I am Jorvanultumn. They are talking about me. It is important I be allowed to address them.”
The Hgirh did not return the greeting. “I know who you are, but we cannot let you inside.”
Jorvanultumn looked to Fevionawishtensen, who shook her head again. “It is my right to enter.”
“It is private,” the other Hgirh said. “Only those invited by the Lamdritta may enter.”
“That is not true.” Jorvanultumn had expected this response, and had spent the journey here thinking about how to talk his way past. However, he had not expected Fevionawishtensen. She was not commonly assigned to simple guard duty. He had no idea how her presence would affect his chances. Would his relationship with her make her more willing to let him past, or would she be more resistant due to fear of accusations of favouritism? If so, this might not work. She could be more stubborn than he was. “All are guaranteed right of entry to sessions within.”
The other Hgirh stared at him, as did Fevionawishtensen, but that hint of a smile remained.
“By law, I am allowed access to any Council discussion that takes place in a public area.”
The second Hgirh looked to Fevionawishtensen, who shook her head. “We have our orders,” he said. “No one enters unless called for.”
“I have told you—”
“I have no knowledge of this law of which you speak,” the Hgirh said. “You must be mistaken about it. The Lamdritta hold many closed sessions in this hall.”
“Then they do so illegally.”
“That is a serious accusation.” The Hgirh once again looked to Fevionawishtensen, but she made no motion.
“Yes, it is. So let me in, or I will go to the Hgirh.”
The Hgirh shook his head. “We are the Hgirh.”
Jorvanultumn smiled. “I mean, I will go above your heads.” He faced Fevionawishtensen. “I will go to your diare.”
She stared at him, and Jorvanultumn did his best to stay relaxed and not tense. The truth was, he was not entirely sure of his understanding of the law here. He was reasonably certain he was correct, but it was a law that so rarely came into question, and he was certainly no expert in these matters. He could be wrong.
Fevionawishtensen continued to stare at him, saying nothing and making no move.
“Very well. Of course, something like this could require going to the Lordritta. I doubt the Lamdritta will like that.”
He started to turn away, but Fevionawishtensen caught his arm. That hint of a smile had turned into a full smile. She nodded to the second Hgirh, who sighed and opened the doors. As Jorvanultumn passed through, Fevionawishtensen’s wing briefly touched his. He smiled. That was all the confirmation of her approval he needed.
He could not quite catch what was being said before everyone in the conference hall fell silent at the sound of the doors closing behind him. He walked slowly towards the centre of the room, where his diare and Mikranasta stood. His diare’s diare, Hilkorultumn was also there, something Jorvanultumn had not expected, though in retrospect, he was not surprised. Other than Davorultumn, Hilkorultumn was the only living Isyar who had completed the same elispt Jorvanultumn had failed to complete.
As Jorvanultumn passed between the first and tenth pillars of the Circle, Lamdirh Maramintorin called down from his perch at the top of the fifth pillar. “What is the meaning of this, Jorvanultumn? You were not summoned to this meeting.”
“I am exercising my rights.” Jorvanultumn stopped in front of Davorultumn and bent his head forward.
Davorultumn gave him a disapproving frown, but touched his forehead to Jorvanultumn’s.
“Rights?” Maramintorin said. “This is a closed meeting. You cannot barge in just anywhere.”
“But I can barge in here.” Jorvanultumn touched foreheads with Mikranasta.
She smiled at him and whispered, “Well done.”
Lammdir Griholbovroh slammed his staff into the floor of his perch on the sixth pillar. “Fevionawishtensen should never have been placed as a guard on this session. I said as much before the session started. This is your fault, Lamdir Paydamat. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Paydamat stood up from her seat on the second pillar. “For myself? Only to question your assertion, Lammdir. Are you suggesting someone as esteemed as Fevionawishtensen would give preferential treatment to her fomase? She knows the law, and she knows—as I think you do, too—that we cannot actually bar Jorvanultumn entry if he demands it.”
“Ridiculous,” Griholbovroh grumbled.
Jorvanultumn touched foreheads with Hilkorultumn. “You take a lot of risks,” the elderly Isyar whispered.
“They are necessary,” Jorvanultumn whispered back.
“Far from ridiculous,” Paydamat continued. “We needed to speak to Jorvanultumn eventually anyway. Now, there is no need to summon him.”
“We are not finished with the others yet,” Griholbovroh said.
The last member of the Lamdritta spoke up, not moving from her seat on the fourth pillar. “I agree with Paydamat.” It was Chiansamorkin...no, Lamdhir Chiansamorkin he should think of her. “We know the details of the elispt. There is little else these others can tell us. We should hear Jorvanultumn’s version of events.”
“Pheh,” Griholbovroh scoffed. “You are biased because you were childhood friends.”
“But you, Lammdir, are bias free, I suppose?” Chiansamorkin said.
Maramintorin loudly cleared his throat. “Accusations against each other will get us nowhere. While I am unhappy with the breach of decorum, I am forced to agree with Lamdir Paydamat and Lamdhir Chiansamorkin. We needed to summon Jorvanultumn soon anyway.”
“Very well,” Griholbovroh said, “but I wish it known that I object to the manner of his arrival and I already consider it a strike against him.”
“Agreed,” Maramintorin said. After Paydamat and Chiansamorkin followed with their agreement, Maramintorin continued, “Jorvanultumn, you wish to address the Lamdritta?”
Jorvanultumn stepped forward so that he stood directly over the hpakrik growing from the centre of the room. “I do.”
“Will you submit to probing to ascertain the truthfulness of what you say?” Paydamat asked. “Nothing will be read from you beyond the truth or falsehood of what you say.”
“In one moment.” Jorvanultumn looked up at the ceiling and its flame globes arranged to look like the constellations. He closed his eyes and said a quick, silent prayer to Power. Then he lowered his head and opened his eyes again. “I submit.”
A slight tickle at the back of his mind was the only indication that Paydamat had made contact. Had she made it noticeable on purpose? Probably. Jorvanultumn doubted he was good enough to notice otherwise. Mikranasta was certainly powerful enough to do it undetected, so in theory, Paydamat should be as well, though Jorvanultumn had always suspected Mikranasta was the more powerful of the two. She merely hid the true extent of her abilities because she did not want the responsibility.
“Ready,” Paydamat said.
Chiansamorkin stood up and stepped forward. “If there are no objections, I will start?” She waited a moment to allow any of the others to object.
It was strange seeing her on that perch. Jorvanultumn had always known she would progress far, but so soon? She had incredible talent, true. Up close, she glowed more brightly than Sinitïa. She glowed more brightly than anyone else he knew. But raw talent needed control, and to gain enough control to have that seat at such a young age was astounding. He wished he had had a chance to see her before now. Being the subject of a Council inquiry was not the best way to reacquaint.
When there was no objection, Chiansamorkin spoke. “Jorvanultumn, we have heard from your diare and these other members of your extended family who have provided us with the details of your elispt, as well as background information about you. If I may say, I commiserate with you regarding the difficulty of your elispt. It is remarkable to me that such an elispt even exists. However, an elispt it is. Your family has told us what you told them of why you broke the elispt. At this time, I would like to hear the story from you. In particular, I would like to hear about the human mentalist who started the war, the one the Volganths call Will-Breaker. Please, tell us.” She sat back in her seat.
“Thank you, Lamdhir,” Jorvanultumn began. “I would like to start by saying I believe you are in error to call Princess Felitïa Asa Folith the one who started the war. The war would have happened whether she had been involved at all.”
“And why do you say this?” Griholbovroh said. “She broke into the Volganth rooms on Scovese and killed several of them. This was not an act of war on her part?”
“Would you go to war with the world over the actions of one person?” Jorvanultumn said.
Griholbovroh tapped his staff impatiently. “Not any person. She is royalty, a leader amongst her people.”
“Of one nation, perhaps. The Volganths declared war on the entire world in response. Would you call that justified?”
“You are young and naïve, Jorvanultumn,” Maramintorin said. “No one here disputes the Volganths’ ulterior motives, but Princess Felitïa Asa Folith gave them an excuse. She made it easier for them. Some culpability is hers. From my perspective, she is at best a fool, who does not consider the consequences of her actions. Why should we aid her? Perhaps you can tell us why she did what she did. Can you justify her actions?”
“I believe so, Lamdirh.”
“Then please, proceed,” Maramintorin said.
“Thank you, Lamdirh. I will tell you everything I can about her.”
They interrupted him frequently, interrogating every aspect of what he said. Throughout it all, the other three looked frequently to Paydamat, who simply gave a small nod each time. She asked no questions herself.
“I suppose,” Chiansamorkin said as the questions were finally drying up, “the one important question I have remaining is, given how powerful you believe Princess Felitïa Asa Folith will be at her full potential, do you truly believe it is safe for her to break through her block?”
“Yes.”
“Let us be honest,” Maramintorin said, “she may be powerful for a human, but she is still human. I cannot imagine she would be any threat to us.”
“I believe she will be more powerful than any of us,” Jorvanultumn said.
Griholbovroh laughed. “Nonsense. You do not believe that.”
“He is speaking truthfully,” Paydamat said. “He believes it.”
Griholbovroh scoffed. “Then he is more naïve than Maramintorin already accused him of. Humans have never come close to Isyar in magical power.”
“With due respect, Lammdir,” Jorvanultumn said, “you have met her sister, have you not? Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith?”
Griholbovroh slammed his staff down. “An uncivil child who does not respect her betters.”
“But you have seen her power?” Jorvanultumn pressed.
“A fluke.”
Chiansamorkin leaned forward. “Are you saying her sister has as much talent, Jorvanultumn?”
Jorvanultumn shook his head. “No, but she does have more talent than most humans. However, we all know that power requires more than raw talent. I merely bring up Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith as proof that some humans can have more potential than Lammdir Griholbovroh gives them credit for. In addition, I would remind the Council that Princess Felitïa Asa Folith’s powers are, in large part, telepathic. She does not need to match us in magical power. The combination of her magic and telepathy may be enough.”
“And yet you still maintain it is safe to remove her block?” Chiansamorkin said.
“I do. I trust her.”
Chiansamorkin stood up once more. “Thank you, Jorvanultumn. Your testimony has been very enlightening.” She looked around the chamber at the other three. “Are there any more questions?”
Paydamat stood up. “I have a few. Jorvanultumn, you contend that you have only temporarily abandoned your elispt. Is this correct?”
“Yes. As soon as I leave Isyaria again, I will resume fulfilling my elispt. I will not return here again until it is finished.”
“And why did you bring your two human companions with you?”
“In the time I have been in Arnor, Meleng Drago has become one of my dearest friends. I brought him as company on the long trip. Also, he desired to see Isyaria. Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith is one of Meleng Drago’s close friends. She wished to accompany him.”
“They should have stayed in Arnor,” Griholbovroh said. “Human merchants like Captain Etiënne Gen are bad enough. We do not need tourists. Their actions have already shown that.”
“Perhaps they should have indeed stayed in Arnor,” Chiansamorkin said, “if only to protect them from unprovoked attacks. If I had not been there—”
Griholbovroh slammed his cane down again. “You had no right to interfere!”
“No right? You would have killed her!”
“That is irrelevant. She would—”
“She is royalty!”
“I did not know that at the time.”
Chiansamorkin barked a short laugh. “And that matters? Have you not at this very meeting condemned similar actions by Princess Felitïa Asa Folith, actions you blame for a war. Would you create another war with Arnor?”
“Enough!” Paydamat’s voice boomed through the hall—no, boomed through Jorvanultumn’s head, and judging by their reactions, through everyone else’s heads as well. Her next words were spoken aloud. “This is not the time. We can discuss both of your actions in private session.”
“If I may,” Jorvanultumn said, “I would like to address the Lamdritta about the incident the Lammdir and Lamdhir are arguing about.”
“When the current matter of your elispt is wrapped up,” Paydamat said.
“I understood you had asked me your last question,” Jorvanultumn said.
Paydamat looked down at him, her eyes narrowed. “Yes, but we must formally move on from that part of the session, and that would begin with offering our thanks to Hilkorultumn, Mikranasta, and Davorultumn. We appreciate your testimony, and we will think on it carefully along with Jorvanultumn’s when we make our decision. You may depart the chamber.”
Hilkorultumn put his hand to his chest. “I am happy to serve, Lamdir. May the night be short.”
Davorultumn did similarly. “Pleasant thoughts.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Mikranasta?” Paydamat prompted.
Mikranasta stepped forward, beside Jorvanultumn. “I would like to remain.”
Paydamat glanced at each of her compatriots. “We would prefer that you did not.”
“Why?”
“Indeed,” Chiansamorkin said. “If you are going to include me in your we, Lamdir, I would like to know why as well.”
“We may need to discuss sensitive information,” Paydamat replied.
Mikranasta shrugged. “Then discuss it elsewhere. Jorvanultumn has already established that this is a public place. You cannot deny me entrance.”
“Insolence!” Griholbovroh yelled, along with another slam of his cane.
“No. Merely an exercising of my rights.” What exactly was Mikranasta playing at? She was correct, of course, but how was this helping? Of course, that was assuming she was trying to help…
“Mikranasta is correct, Lammdir,” Chiansamorkin said.
“And you can fall into the void of Cosmos’s wings for all I care.”
Chiansamorkin laughed and Mikranasta smirked at Griholbovroh’s use of an informal curse in a formal session.
Paydamat spread her wings, then let them droop over the edge of her pedestal. She looked down at those on the floor. “My apologies for the unprofessional display you have seen from some of us today. We will continue any further discussions in a private location.” She folded her wings back up again. “I move this session be ended.” She looked to Maramintorin. “Do you concur, Lamdirh?”
Maramintorin rose from his seat. “I do.” His words were almost a growl as he glared first at Chiansamorkin on the pillar to his right and then at Griholbovroh to his left.
“A consensus of two is all that is needed,” Paydamat said before either of the others could respond. “This meeting is over.” She flew from her perch to the doors high above the main entrance doors Jorvanultumn had entered through.
Maramintorin followed, and then Chiansamorkin. Griholbovroh remained a moment, staring down at the people on the floor. After a moment, he shook his head and followed the others out.
Mikranasta chuckled and touched Jorvanultumn’s shoulder. “I do appreciate Chiansamorkin’s presence on the Council.” She strode towards the doors. “Coming?”
Jorvanultumn let Davorultumn and Hilkorultumn go ahead of him. As they left the chamber, Fevionawishtensen grabbed Jorvanultumn’s arm and pulled him aside. She looked expectantly at him.
He shrugged. “I’m hopeful, but we have to wait and see what they decide.” He touched his forehead to hers and the tips of their wings touched.
“Jorvanultumn,” Davorultumn called, “enough of that. There’s a time and place.”
“Oh, let them be,” Mikranasta said. “They’re young. We were like that once, remember?”
Davorultumn scoffed. “I was never like that.”
Mikranasta laughed. “You keep telling yourself that. No one else will believe you.”
Jorvanultumn looked into Fevionawishtensen’s eyes. “I’d better go.” He kissed her. “I’ll see you later. Coming, Diare.”
His diare glared at him as he approached. With a shake of his head, he continued down the hall, stopping at Itra. “You can go, Itra.”
“But I was summoned,” Itra said.
Davorultumn nodded. “Yes, but the meeting has ended because some people abused their rights.”
“But they did not actually dismiss me, did they?”
Davorultumn shook his head.
Itra bowed his head. “Then I will remain until officially told to leave.”
Davorultumn bowed his head as well. “Perhaps wise. Pleasant thoughts.”
Mikranasta touched her forehead to Jorvanultumn’s. “You did well in there.”
“Thank you,” Jorvanultumn said. “But I don’t understand why…”
“Why I insisted on staying?” She sighed. “A misjudgement. I was intent on annoying Griholbovroh and didn’t consider that it might drive them to move the discussion elsewhere. I’m sorry. But don’t worry. I have no doubt Chiansamorkin will ensure you have the opportunity to defend your friend. Come.”
They walked after Davorultumn and Hilkorultumn, who were some ways ahead now.
“Did you get the meditative papers I left for you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I hope they’re helpful.”
“I’m sure they will be.”
Mikranasta scoffed. “Come now. I know you don’t believe that.”
“Are you saying they won’t be helpful?”
She shook her head. “Don’t twist my words. I fully believe they’ll be helpful. I just happen to know you don’t believe that. Don’t you want to try again to convince me to go with you?”
Jorvanultumn smirked. “Do you wish me to?”
Mikranasta laughed. “I told you not to twist my words” She spread her wings to fly down to the entrance hall. When he did not do the same, she looked at him quizzically.
“I injured a wing,” he said. “I’ll take the stairs. Go ahead. We’ll speak later.”
She nodded and placed her hand on her chest. “Until then.” He returned the gesture, and she flew towards the exit.
Jorvanultumn watched her until she reached the doors and went through them. Then he made his way to the stairs. At least she was willing to listen to him more. Indeed, she really did seem to want him try to convince her. It was probably her way of ensuring they spent time together. His diare would not be so willing to speak with him—even if the Lamdritta determined he had sufficient cause to break his elispt. Davorultumn did not see it that way, and no decision from the Lamdritta would change that.
“Jorvanultumn!”
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked in the direction of the call.
Chiansamorkin landed beside him. “I’m glad I caught you.”
“Is there something I can do for you, Lamdhir?” He regretted his words almost immediately as her face fell in disappointment.
“Jorvanultumn, it’s me.”
He should have greeted her more warmly. “Yes, I know.”
“I see.”
He had always managed to choose the wrong words with her ever since he had bonded with Fevionawishtensen. “I apologise. I…” He stopped, realising he was still doing it. He switched to the informal. “I mean, I’m sorry.”
She nodded in resignation. “Right.”
“With you on the Lamdritta now and overseeing my case, I just wasn’t sure the appropriateness…” That was a lie.
“Uh huh.”
And she clearly knew it.
She sighed. “I know I was less than...accommodating when we last saw each other, but I was hoping...I don’t know...that you might give me a chance to make amends, to say I’m sorry.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry. For now, I mean. I was just...scared I guess.” It had been two years, more than enough time for her to get over their not bonding. She probably even had her own fomase by now.
“I understand. I was pretty scared to even approach you.” She leaned her head forward.
He touched his forehead to hers. “It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”
She smiled and looked him in the eye. “Me too.”
There was something odd about her left eye. Her clear eyes had always looked strange, but something had changed. There was a design of sorts at the back, like a central dot with two angled arms extending from it and crossing a surrounding circle.
She stepped back with a smile. “Like it?”
“Is that a…?”
“Tattoo? Yes. Kind of.”
“Inside your eye? Why?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Because I could.”
“I don’t recognise the design.”
“It’s personal,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Not here though. Fly with me?”
He motioned to his wing. “I injured my wing recently. Mind if we walk?”
She smiled. “Walking will be fine. As long as we get out of this stuffy old building.”
He held the door for her as they reached it.
“So kind,” she said with a grin and passed through.
They strolled slowly through the gardens, over the hpakrik and between the rows of szadan and szadene. The sun had already set, and the moon had not yet risen, so there was only the starlight reflecting off the snow and ice for light. For a few moments, they remained silent.
“Shouldn’t you be deliberating my case with the Lamdritta?” Jorvanultumn asked.
She shook her head. “We’ve taken a recess. Griholbovroh needs time to calm down.”
“Wouldn’t that mean waiting forever?” Jorvanultumn said.
She chuckled. “I would have said as much, but that would’ve made him worse. I suppose we’ll just never go back in session again.”
Jorvanultumn smiled. He was glad to see her like this. This was the Chiansamorkin he had grown up with, not the angry soul from two years ago. “I heard you spent time with Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith. She asked me to pass her greetings on to you, by the way.”
She glanced at him with a wry smile. “I’m pretty certain she didn’t ask you to do it in such a formal manner, though.”
Jorvanultumn nodded. “Yes, she actually asked me to say hi.” He made a point of saying it in Arnorgue.
Chiansamorkin smiled. “That’s better. And yes, I spent time with Sinitïa.”
He did his best to mimic an aghast look. “Always a bit of a rebel.”
She laughed. “That’s me.” After a moment, she said, “Humans are strange, aren’t they? But while I might not really understand it, I know they don’t treat names with the same reverence we do. She asked me to call her Sinitïa, so I will. Except when the Lamdritta is in session, of course. And any time I’m around Griholbovroh. Or maybe not, if I feel like annoying him.” She laughed again.
“I’m not sure I could do that,” Jorvanultumn said.
She chuckled. “You can barely use the informal with me. You definitely couldn’t do it. At any rate, I enjoyed my time with her. She’s...unusual.”
“She is certainly that.”
“But fun.” Chiansamorkin grinned, but then her face fell serious. “She’s not trained, is she?”
Jorvanultumn held back a groan. “She...she told you that?”
Chiansamorkin shook her head. “But it was obvious. She knows nothing of any magical discipline. I’m not even sure she understands there are different disciplines.”
Jorvanultumn sighed and nodded.
“Who else knows?”
“Paydamat. She’s the one who instructed us not to tell anyone else. She’s commanded Meleng to fix it somehow, though such a fix would take…”
“A long time,” Chiansamorkin said. “What do you plan to do?”
“She needs training, but I don’t know how to get her it.”
“Are there any humans capable of handling someone with so much talent?”
Jorvanultumn shook his head. “No. None I’ve ever encountered or heard of, at any rate.”
“And no Isyar would ever do it. Quite the dilemma.”
He nodded. “I suppose I just have to watch her and try to make sure she never accidentally kills herself or anyone else.”
“Will you drag her with you everywhere on your elispt?”
“If I have to.”
She smiled. “Always the valiant and honourable one. She is lucky to have you.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be so sure. Without training her myself, I’m not sure how to prevent her killing herself. I can just hope it never happens.”
“She is still lucky to have you. I almost envy her, getting to travel with you for your whole elispt.” She stopped moving and plucked a needle from a szadan. “I meant it in session, you know, when I said your elispt is ridiculously hard. Personally, I won’t hold it against you if it’s determined you broke it. It’s not a fair elispt to begin with.”
“Should you be telling me this?”
She shrugged and held the needle out to him. “Do you know what mine was?”
“Your elispt?” He took the needle and bit into it. Its juice was bitter, and he grimaced. “Ugh.”
Chiansamorkin chuckled and plucked another needle. She bit into it. “Hmm.” She held a straight face for a moment, but then spit it out. “Yeah, not ripe.” She laughed.
After a moment, he laughed with her.
“So,” she said. “My elispt. Do you know what it was?”
He shook his head. “No, sorry. I was too engrossed in my studies.”
She shrugged and started walking again. “As we all were. And it’s not like I gave you much choice. I wasn’t very friendly at the time. For my elispt, I had to find a new, more efficient way to conjure all four elements into a finished product.” She looked to him for his reaction.
“But that’s…”
“What every conjuror has to do all the time, yes. There were a few other parameters I had to follow, but nothing extreme. My elispt wasn’t much harder than the tests my diare gave me all the time during my training. Do you know what I did? No, silly question. Of course not. I conjured my home. I originally wanted to conjure it completely furnished, but I couldn’t figure out a way to pull that off. I spent...I think it was ten days working out the movements. It was more time than I really needed, but I wanted to impress, make it as efficient as possible. Plus, I still hoped to find a way to furnish it.”
Jorvanultumn smiled. “I can see why you made Lamdhir at such a young age. Congratulations by the way. You were always talented. I envied you a lot.”
She grinned. “Thank you. But my accomplishment is nothing compared to what you’re being asked to do. I was done in ten days. You’ve been gone two years, and how close are you to finishing?”
He looked away from her and sighed. “Maybe a quarter done. It’s hard to say. It took my diare seven years, his diare a little over ten.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “And you have to go everywhere?”
“Not literally everywhere. That would be...literally impossible. But I do have to visit every realm, every society, every culture. Except the Volgs, but they’re the only exception. There are a lot of human cultures.”
She stopped walking and grabbed his arm, waiting for him to face her. “Tell me, Jorvanultumn, how will anyone actually know you’ve done it?”
“Well, I’ll tell them.”
She pulled a face. “And how will they know you’re telling the truth? How do you know your diare accomplished it? I don’t mean to suggest he’s a liar. That’s not my point. But think about it. How do you really know for sure?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I don’t, but it’s about trust.”
“Okay, but how will you know for sure when you’re done. What if you think you’ve gone everywhere, but there’s actually some small group of humans living off in some isolated area of the world? What if you miss them and come home thinking you’ve done everything?”
“That’s not the point.”
“So, what is? What’s the point of your elispt?”
Jorvanultumn looked away from her again, and she let go of his arm. “I’m...I’m not really sure.”
She shook her head sadly. “See? It’s a stupid elispt.”
“Perhaps, but I still have to complete it.”
She sighed. “Perhaps. There are a lot of young people today who feel it’s an outdated custom and we should get rid of it.”
He shook his head. “It is outdated, but we can’t get rid of it.”
“Why not?”
“It just wouldn’t be possible. It’s too ingrained in our society. No one else would accept it.”
She shook her head. “Everything has to start somewhere, Jorvanultumn. Perhaps it’s time.”
Jorvanultumn shrugged. “Perhaps, but—”
She waved dismissively. “But you’re not the one to do it. I know. You’re not enough of a rebel.”
“Is that a problem?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No, I suppose not. It’s hard on Fevionawishtensen, you know?”
“Not being a rebel?”
“No, your elispt. It’s hard on her. It would be hard on anyone.”
“Well, yes, but she—”
“She wants a siare, you know?”
“Yes, but…” Jorvanultumn paused. That was a very specific thing for Chiansamorkin to mention. “How…?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Do you really think we’ve never spoken? Just because I was...angry for a while doesn’t mean I didn’t take the opportunity to get to know her when I calmed down. We’ve become close.”
“She...she told you about this?”
Chiansamorkin shrugged and looked away. “Not in so many words, and maybe I’m projecting a little, but yes. A few things she’s said have made it clear. She hasn’t really said a lot. Not that she ever does.”
“Was that a joke about her muteness?”
Chiansamorkin shook her head. “Not a deliberate one, though it came out that way. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Fevionawishtensen’s difficulty communicating had led to her saying very little. “Do you know her signs, or does she air-write for you?”
“Both,” Chiansamorkin said with a smile. “Early on, it was mostly air-writing, but I’ve since learned her signs. Have you discussed who gets the first child?”
Jorvanultumn nodded. “She does. We decided that before I left, in case she was already pregnant. I could hardly take the child in such a case.” While they had discussed the possibility—very briefly—Fevionawishtensen had never expressed to him a strong desire to have a siare right away. She seemed content to wait. Though perhaps he was projecting like Chiansamorkin. That reminded him… “Chiansamorkin, can I ask…?”
She looked at him, a sadness in her eyes. She knew what he was about to say, and he now knew her answer. When he did not continue, she said, “Well? Ask.”
He sighed. “Have you met your fomase?”
She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head and looked away.
“Ah...well...I’m sure it will happen soon.”
She looked up in the sky while shaking her head. “No, it won’t.”
“How do you know?”
She glared at him. “Do I really need to tell you? Are you that out of touch?”
He gulped.
“Statistically speaking, I’m too old.”
“But you’re not…”
“No, I’m not. I’m pretty young, but Isyar who reach my age without bonding almost never do. It’s becoming more frequent, you know?”
“Is it?”
She sighed in exasperation and shook her head. “This isn’t something new to the last two years, you know? You always did have a way of being out of touch. You congratulated me just a short while ago for being Lamdhir at such a young age. But what good is that? I will never have a siare. People marvel at my power and expect me to be Lordhir one day, but what good is so much power if I have no one to pass it on to, no one to carry on my family legacy?” Her wings fluttered irritably. “It’s not fair.”
Jorvanultumn nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
She took a deep breath, then another. “No, it’s all right. I guess it’s still a bit of a sore subject for me. It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you anymore. And you deserve to know.” She approached him and touched her forehead to his. “I should get back. See if that bent-wing, Griholbovroh has calmed down, may his wings rot in the deepest shit. I’m sorry to leave on such a…”
“It’s okay,” he said.
She stepped back. “We’ll talk again, though, yes?”
He nodded.
She smiled and spread her wings. “Until then. Pleasant thoughts.”
“Pleasant thoughts to you, too.”
She flew low over the gardens, landing at the doors to the Governance Building. Jorvanultumn watched her until she’d gone inside. Then, instinct caused him to unfold his own wings to fly home, but he paused. Meleng was right. He needed to stop stressing his wing. With a sigh, he started the long, awkward walk home.