The courtyard was alight with the radiance of hundreds of paper lanterns strung above, set against a matte painted black sky. Beneath the twinkling lights of the Beltane sky, and by the light of glowing paper lanterns, people robed in white laughed and danced; twirling, spinning, their hair flowing free as if they hadn’t a care in the world. From my spot a fair distance away, I watched Sheena twirl in succession with Elric, executing a complex series of moves that they made seem simple amongst a sea of other dancers doing the same or worse. Further down, I could see- the feast tables lined up, stacked high with hogsmeat, rukon legs and thighs, yellowed harnish bread, vegetables of every type, fruits, dipping sauces, and so many other things that I couldn’t even recognize. The long wooden tables were preceded by dozens of wooden dining tables placed on the courtyard specifically for the event, and I felt a twinge of guilt at the realization that the servants themselves had probably set them out while I’d been lounging around in the recovery room. Farther off, on a wooden stage, a group of men and women played woodwind instruments and one of them sang aloud; his voice was beautiful and melodic. The scene was surreal, and I was a part of it, though I was having trouble with the dancing part. Still, I sat there and witnessed what I perceived to be a scene of pure happiness, something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Will you not dance?” Jen asked, sliding onto the bench next to me. Her white hair glistened in the lamplight, her shoulders shrugging fluidly in the white gown as she scooted closer to me.
“I think my legs aren’t up to it,” I said apologetically. “I can walk as well, but dancing might put me over the edge.”
“You might be right,” She said. “You ought eat though, surely you’re famished. What did they have you eating in the recovery room?”
“You don’t want to know,” I shuddered as I recalled the thick nutrient solution I’d sucked through a metal tube for days on end. Now that my lips and face weren’t swollen, now would be a good time to eat something.
“Are you nervous?” She grinned at me.
“Nervous about what?”
“About going up there by yourself?” She nodded toward the food tables. I suddenly realized that she was right. “Aye? Then I’ll go with you, come along!”
She hopped up, off the bench, her skirt brushing against mine and she did a half turn and took me by the hand.
“How is it then?” She asked, looking me over. “The body, how does it feel?”
“It hurts,” I complained as we walked past the dancing crowd and toward the food tables. “I have to go back every month for an injection for a while, otherwise it might not hold, I guess. Well, some of it. They reformed my bone structure so I guess that’ll stay the same, but the crystals moved fat around and Caius wants to make sure it all stays where it’s supposed to.”
“So then it feels fine?”
“Other than the pain,” I acknowledged the slight throb in my right hip, as we approached the food tables. Upon reaching the towering piles of food I realized exactly how hungry I was; it hadn’t even occurred to me before now.
“Oh Goddess,” I said as my stomach growled. “Those mashed potatoes!”
“Potatoes? What are those?” Jen looked at me quizzically. I pointed and she followed my finger to a bowl of white mash speckled with bits of skin. Jen cocked her head at me. “You mean the husproot?”
“Oh,” I said, realizing that it had a different name. Potato. That was a word from a past that was still blurred. I had a vague idea of what had happened to me in that place: the place before the Stormveil, Liminality, but recalling it was going to be a chore, if I even wanted to. “Sorry, it’s just been…”
“Aye, you’ve had a time of it haven’t you?” She handed me a plate and we walked down the table, piling high with meat, vegetables, bread, and pastas. “I reckon to say downright traumatizing. What with the surgery, and then Sheena surprising you like that in front of everyone?”
“That’s…true,” I laughed softly. “I didn’t know there was a party today!”
“Party?” Jen scrunched up her face as we made our way to one of the tables. I dug my bare toes into the grass and basked in the warm breeze that washed over the courtyard. “Lyra, this is the Beltane festival. How is it that you’ll call it a party? Tis a simple barbecue to you?”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s important, I’m just…I’m overwhelmed by all of this. The whole…”
“As you ought be, or you’d not be a normal person,” Jen agreed before shoving a piece of bread into her mouth and chewing profusely.
“She seems happy with him,” I indicated Sheena who was still dancing happily with Elric; Kayla stood nearby with a wide grin on her face, bursting into laughter as she clapped her hands.
“Aye,” Jen agreed. “You might have a brother in law on your hands, assuming you approve.”
I laughed. “Jen, I don’t think anyone’s taking my opinion into account.”
“Beg to differ, but they do,” Jen took a bite of meat and then looked at me over a cup of juice. “You are the younger sister. Traditionally, you have to approve as well.”
“You have that all wrong,” I told her, taking a gulp of my own juice and then chewing on one of the Rukon drumsticks. “Sheena tells me what to do.”
“Not in terms of courtship,” She corrected me. “‘Tis a good time to be a bratty little sister.”
“Aye, she’s good at that,” Sheena took a seat next to me and ruffled my hair; I squealed and tried to duck out of the way, nearly spilling my juice and prompting a laugh from Jen and Kayla, who also joined us at the table. “But not to worry, ‘tis nowhere near courtship at the moment.”
“My eyes tell different,” Jen smirked.
“Then your eyes tell treachery so well as you speak it.”
“Defensive, she is,” Kayla grabbed her fork and begun to pick at the plate she’d brought with her while Sheena took my plate with two fingers and slid it between us.
“Did you pour enough gravy on that husproot?” Sheena indicated the pile of what I’d thought were potatoes. I had indeed piled a fair amount of the red gravy on them. Sheena snatched a rukon drumstick and dipped it in the gravy before taking a very delicate, very refined bite. She swallowed before she spoke again. “You coud drown in that, and it’s touching the becung sauce. Savory and sweet can be grand partners sister, but you’re bordering on heresy.”
“Or she could be a burgeoning culinary genius,” Jen suggested.
“It’s essentially a war crime,” Kayla spoke muffled beneath the burden of a stuffed mouth and pointed to my piled plate. Sheena chuckled and turned to me.
“I would have a word with you, little sister,” Sheena had begun to stand before even finishing her sentence and it was expected that I would follow. I fell in step beside her as we walked further away from the table and onto the sidewalk running parallel to the courtyard. She motioned for me to stop at one of the many washing stations that had been set up near the outer edge of the the courtyard and pointed for me to put my hand in the trough. “You’ve grease all over your hands,” she said in exasperation as she took a rag from a nearby stack and scrubbed my hands for me. I wince and tried to pull back as she intensified the scrubbing and the cloth began to burn my hand. She gripped my wrist and pulled me back to the trough in what had to be a practiced motion.
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“Present,” She said to me. I immediately held my hands out flat, palms down, fingers spread. She inspected each finger, then turned my hands over to look at the palms. “We’ll discuss this at a later time. Come now.”
I walked along side her, hands folded in front of me, as was the custom. We moved wordlessly until we reached a hedge garden and turned a corner.
“My dear sister, I owe you an apology,” She said, taking me completely off guard. So off guard in fact that I stopped walking and let her move ahead as I stayed there in shock. She stopped a few feet away and turned. “Lyra, yesterday, and the day before that were…important days for you, to say the least. The culmination a hard-fought victory; I would dare say that I ruined it in many ways, mostly due to my own selfishness.”
“Elder sister I-” Before I could finish, she raised her hand and I immediately fell into silence. My obedience to her was absolute and while that should have scared me, it somehow made me feel more comfortable.
“I was upset, Lyra, when you were so eager to find a way to return to your world, wherever that may be. You and I have formed a bond here and my thought was that you were eager to abandon it the moment you discovered that was an option. However, I realize that if I had become trapped on your world, and I had suddenly found that there was a remote possibility of escape, I might have reacted in the same way. You see, Lyra, your reaction was reasonable, mine was not, and I am sorry. You are not obligated to accept my apology but as the elder sister it is my job to recognize when I am wrong and to grow from it, just as you.”
“I do accept your apology,” I told her. “Though it’s not necessary. I should have thought before I spoke.”
“If that is the way you see it,” She said, resigned. “though I am positively dissapointed in myself. Now, on to the other matter.”
“Other…matter?”
She motioned for me to continue walking; we turned another corner and emerged into the center of the maze, amidst a circular set of concrete benches which surrounded a tall and flowing fountain. Sheena stepped up to the glistening water and looked at the Goddess statue dead center. Finally, she turned to me and produced a piece of folded paper, which she held out to me. I took it, hesitantly, and opened it up. My own words looked back at me - the words I’d written to her after my outburst in the dorm; the words that she couldn’t read.
“Keniel, as it turns out, is an adequate translator. He was able to provide me the full text in the common script.”
I looked up at her, eyes wide; had she read it? Truth be told, I’d breathed a sigh of relief when I’d discovered that she couldn’t read it. But she had? I gulped, my jaw dropped a little and my form weakened, my back slumped. The shame I felt had no equal, but suddenly I felt her hand on my cheek and I was greeted with a soft smile when I looked up to meet her eyes.
“Lyra,” She said as she stroked the side of my head and then laid her hand on my shoulder. “As your Elder Sister my job is to instruct you and to keep you safe, but it is also to help you understand the truth and the very idea that you are responsible for all the wrongs in the world is not the truth. No, Lyra it is not always you. You are not always the one at fault. You need instruction, that cannot be denied, but you are an amazing and promising young lady. Now, furthermore, a young lady should know her mother, which is why you will be meeting with her the week after next, on your weekend off.”
“I thought she hated me,” I frowned. “I don’t und-”
“Lyra!” Sheena glared and tightened her grip on my shoulder. “Do not speak of your mother in that manner, she does not hate you.”
“Yes Elder Sister, I apolgize.”
“Your mother has shown you respect, and you will show her respect, am I understood?”
“Yes, Elder Sister.”
“In the time since our meeting at the Rossie estate, mother has endeavored to learn more about you and she has been impressed with what she has learned. My reports, along with discussions the High Lady have convinced her to give you another chance and you will attend the meeting.”
“Yes, Elder Sister,” I replied; there was no other response expected or required of me.
“The High Lady would like to speak with you, go to her office now and then return to the celebration.”
“The High Lady?” I squeaked. “But- yes Elder Sister.”
Sheena nodded to me and gestured in the direction of the palace. Soon she was far behind me and I walked along up the path, passing out of the hedge maze and moving through the side-door that led to the vice. This entrance was a bit different as it led to a brass spiral staircase which ascended from the bottom floor all the way to the third with no exit to the second; there wasn’t much logic in the design, but it was a quick way to the connecting corridor that would lead out of the Vice and to the palace proper. I sped quickly down a curved hallway lined with slatted windows which overlooked the Vice Auditorium three stories below; it was devoid of people of course, but still an amazing sight. As I turned the corner and emerged into the Triangle, I let out a horrified yelp as I bumped right into Sage. She didn’t react in quite the same way; she rather just gave me a hard stare and then rushed past me as realization came over her face. I looked different, but somehow she could still tell; maybe it was my eyes. I turned and opened my mouth to call out after her with absolutely no idea why, but my voice caught in my throat as she disappeared around the corner.
The rest of the walk was uneventful and I stood in front of the High Lady in a brief curtsey and greeting which she immediately dismissed.
“Sit, please,” She waved me over to her desk and I carefully took my seat in one of the cushy guest chairs, straightening my gown before I did. I placed my hands on my lap and looked to her expectantly. The atmosphere was far different in this room at night; the space was still well lit, but in the picture window behind her I could see the moon, perfectly framed and overlooking the city of Auglire. Her office always amazed me, what would it be like to have a view like that? I couldn’t remember. “Well, Lyra, I am, for all intents and purposes speaking to a different person today, aren’t I?”
“Yes, High Lady,” I said as respectfully as possible. “I apologize for-”
“For nothing,” She waved her and and shook her head. “Lyra, it took a considerable amount of convincing on Balthasar’s part of me to truly believe that you are not Micah Lavoric in any way, shape or form, other than the obvious physicality. He showed us irrefutable evidence, and then we waited to see who would win. Lyra or Micah. So, now that I have Lyra Rossi sitting in front of me, truly, I will dismiss you from service.”
“Wait,” I frowned, and then I felt my stomach drop as I broke into a full on panic. “High Lady, I don’t have anywhere else to go! Please!”
“Calm down, Lyra. You’ll still reside in the servant’s quarters and you’ll still be paid your wage, but instead of working your fingers to the bone, you’ll continue your lessons with Keniel, you will make progress with your voice training, and most importantly, you will learn. There is no reason that you cannot be educated to at least the level of your sister.”
“But all the other girls-”
“The other girls?” The High Lady laughed. “First of all, Lyra, they are older than you, most are above the age of majority. Being in service, especially on this campus requires a fair amount of education. This is not Axock or Slose where young men and women are dragged from the streets and placed in steel collars, never to see their families again and beaten when they cannot perform. No, Lyra, you are no longer being punished; if you wish to be in service, especially to this palace, earn it.”
“So…so you’re saying then…” I stammered, unsure of what to make of the situation.
“I’m saying you’re fired, Lyra. Go be a child, Goddess knows I wish I could.”
“Yes…High Lady,” I replied, feeling a bit confused and a bit empty. What had just happened? What was I supposed to do? Thoughts and feelings failed to manifest as I walked away from her office and through the enormous parlor where the High Lady’s receptionist normally sat. It was dark out here; a few lights shone, but the shadows in between them were immense and there was something unsettling about it. My eyes scanned the room, looking across the five casement windows that overlooked the eastern edge of the palace and the Redding quadrant which supplemented the educational wing. It was completely dead, not a sound to be heard. A space in between. A liminal space.
Yes, that was it. The Liminality. A liminal space. Neither here, nor there. An all too familiar twisting feeling in the pit of my stomach returned as I felt a harsh wind against my face, and then, I was somewhere else. The remnants of a memory from times long past came to the forefront of my conciousness and made themselves known. I was no longer standing in the parlor outside the High Lady’s office, I was no longer in Klocby. The Liminality? No. Something else. I was standing in a room, a small one with a pink carpeted floor, cheaply made wooden walls, a filthy window allowed the daylight shine on an absolute stye of a room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a ‘Steam Powered Giraffe’ poster hung haphazardly on the wall, and a small speaker blared ‘Malfunction’ from the top of a white stained desk next to an old Acer notebook. I breathed heavily, the familiar sights filling my mind while simultaneously invoking a sense of loss. And then the memory played out.
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