Pak

　　Something drags me across the cold stone ground. My body scrapes and crunches like a chisel against a statue. The pain should be unbearable, but it barely registers at all. Even the scraping and crunching sounds muted, like my ears are stuffed with cotton. Eventually, I am lifted up, then laid down. A gruff voice murmurs something, then a second voice responds. It sounds like they`ve been breathing in dust for centuries. I don`t understand what they`re saying; the language is familiar, and it feels like I should understand, but none of it makes sense.

　　They`re talking about you.

　　My eyes are closed. Or am I blind? Paralyzed? I can`t tell. I feel nothing when I try to flutter my eyelids. A cold hand grabs my face, presses into my cheeks and pushes out my lips. It turns me left and right, inspecting me. I can`t see, but I can hear them deliberating. They`re speaking some sort of Elvish, they must be. The language is far too warm to my ears to be anything else. I struggle to pick out a word, any word, but none of it makes sense. It`s like I`m trying to read my mother`s letter. The harder I strain to understand, the murkier the meaning becomes.

　　The hand drops my face, and my head bumps against whatever I am lying on - something rigid, but oddly spongy. Fhump. The murmuring fades. There is an echo, scuffing, grinding, and the world bumps, sways, carries me away. My mind retreats to the void&

　　Rorri

　　A week passed before the two elves of Arbiter`s Way received the Rosari family`s reply, inviting them to visit that following day. Adar put together a portfolio of Rorri`s works in a folder made from blank paper with as much guidance as Rorri could give from memory. Rorri asked Adar for the letter`s wax seal so he could fidget with it during the long carriage ride to the Plateau, but the periwinkle blindfold that constantly slipped down his face took up far more of his fidgeting.

　　The carriage groaned to a halt. Adar helped Rorri down and led him up the stone path he used to know so well.

　　"Good afternoon, sers."

　　For as many times as the guard had accosted him before, Rorri instantly recognized Markus`s low, sharp voice, but his tenor suggested pity - a ripple of pale pink - for which Rorri wasn`t prepared. Rorri stiffened, unconsciously squeezing his friend`s elbow in his silent frustration.

　　"Hello," Adar chirped, reflexively squeezing back with his firm bicep. "We`re, uh, here to see&" His voice trailed off, clearly lost for her name.

　　"Shacia," Rorri snapped. "We sent a courier."

　　"Yes, yes, we received it," Markus said. Rorri couldn`t help noticing that the normally uptight guard didn`t make an effort to correct him regarding the Lady`s title.

　　"Urtis!"

　　"Ser?"

　　"Stand guard at the gate while I escort these two into the manor," he instructed.

　　"Yesser."

　　A sharp gust kicked up a flurry, flinging snowflakes into Rorri`s face. He winced at the cold, but was more concerned for the contents of the portfolio Adar carried in his other arm, imagining all his old drawings muddied by melted snow. He jumped as the gate screeched open - he swore it had never been so loud before - but quickly straightened himself out, pretending as if he had an itch on his neck.

　　"Right this way, sers," Markus said, clearing his throat. "And watch your step. Haven`t gotten to salting the cobblestone, yet."

　　As they wove through the Rosari manor, its familiar floral perfumes wafting down the halls, Rorri could still feel the heat of passing servants` stares as acutely as ever, sensing it in their halted footsteps and indistinct whispers. He took a deep breath, pouring all his focus into maintaining a steady gait. The thought of tripping under such scrutiny was too much to bear.

　　"How do they keep the air so warm in here?" Adar asked.

　　"Probably magic," Rorri said. "Where are we going, anyway? This isn`t the way to the study."

　　"The Lady has requested your company in her private chamber," Markus explained. Rorri blinked behind his blindfold, struck by how little it seemed to matter. Before, he would have been shocked at the boldness of such an invitation. But now, as he walked arm-in-arm with his chaperone, he felt like a child holding hands with his mother, visiting some distant relative.

　　"We`re coming to the staircase," Markus warned. Rorri huffed. He knew he could do it. It was just such a hassle.

　　"I can carry you, if you`d like," Adar said.

　　"I`d rather die," Rorri grumbled. "I`ll be fine if there`s a handrail."

　　He didn`t release his breath until they crested the top of the stairs. A short distance ahead, Markus`s heavy footsteps halted, and Rorri heard the familiar three knocks he always gave upon the Lady`s door.

　　"Come in."

　　Rorri caught his breath as Shacia`s voice touched his ear. It had been so long. He hadn`t even realized how badly he craved that sound.

　　"That portrait is awful," Adar remarked, pausing. "It doesn`t look anything like you."

　　She chortled, a warm yellow-orange sunburst in Rorri`s mind.

　　"Finally, someone who gets it," she said. Adar gently tugged him along, and the two crossed into the noblewoman`s room. A subtle, sweet scent clung to the air, reminiscent of magic, and maybe it was magic, though it could have been a magic-scented candle, if such a thing existed - but the scent pulled Rorri into the depths of yearning. For the first time, he was grateful for the fabric shielding his eyes. Nobody could see the tears that formed behind it.

　　"H-hello," he said meekly, forcing some kind of smile.

　　"Hello, Rorri," Shacia said. He somehow felt her gaze lingering upon him, though he`d never truly know where it settled. She didn`t greet Adar, but he imagined she must have given him a courteous nod.

　　"You may leave, Markus."

　　Tension pulsed in the void, a single ripple in a black pond. The guard cleared his throat.

　　"With all due respect, my Lady, the Madam has requested that I-"

　　"The Madam can choke on a fish bone. Leave us."

　　Rorri froze, stunned by the venom in her voice.

　　"P-please, my Lady," Markus stammered, "this puts me in an extremely difficult position-"

　　"Markus," Shacia hissed, "that was not a request. I order you to leave us at once."

　　After a few seconds, the guard`s harried footsteps faded down the hall. Rorri stood still as if caught in some terrible crime.

　　"Please have a seat," Shacia said. "And shut the door, if you don`t mind."

　　"Yes, my Lady-"

　　"Don`t," Shacia interrupted. "Consider us equals, and refer to me as such for as long as the door remains shut."

　　"&Um, okay," Adar said. He unhooked from Rorri`s arm, leaving him untethered in the void, but quickly returned after the door clicked shut as if sensing his friend`s momentary panic. He led Rorri to a chair, plush and soft, as all noble sitting-things were. Rorri sank into it like butter in a hot pan. Still, it wasn`t long before his foot initiated its furious bounce. A bizarre sense of invisibility gripped him. He couldn`t see them, so he felt unseen, even though he knew they could see him. He tried to focus on the subtle sounds of life around - conversations humming throughout the manor, birds chittering in the winter sun - anything to remind him that he did still exist in the world.

　　"It`s nice to see you again-"

　　Shacia cut herself off. Rorri sensed her embarrassment in a vivid splash of violet, picturing her intensely flushed cheeks.

　　"I`m so sorry," she said. "I wasn`t thinking."

　　"It`s alright," Rorri said, his throat suddenly tight. "I know you didn`t mean anything by it. I, um& I can s-see you very clearly in my mind, which is good enough for me."

　　"Aww," Adar cooed.

　　"Shut up."

　　Shacia chuckled. "You`re too sweet, Rorri," she said.

　　"She`s blushing."

　　"Shut up," Rorri said, shooting a blindfolded glare towards Adar`s voice. "I`m sorry about him."

　　"I find his candor quite refreshing, actually."

　　"Ha! Finally, someone who appreciates me."

　　Rorri smirked in spite of himself, and some of his tension melted away.

　　"So," Shacia said, "I know you have a few things you`d like to talk about, but before we get into all that, I have to ask& how`s my Poppy-cat doing?"

　　"He`s-"

　　"He`s wonderful," Adar cut in eagerly. "I`m teaching him to walk on a harness. He`s making fantastic progress. I wanted to bring him today, but with all that snow we got last night, he just wasn`t having it."

　　"Is that so?" Shacia said with a bewildered chuckle. "How are you managing that?"

　　"Lots of treats. I`ve got the whole street in on it. They love it. He loves it. Everyone loves it. He did throw up the other day, but apart from that-"

　　"Thank you for trusting us with him," Rorri interjected with a sheepish smile. "I don`t think I could sleep without him on the bed, anymore. You can, um&"

　　Rorri`s voice trailed off, afraid of saying something he shouldn`t.

　　"You can come visit him any time," Adar said, finishing his thought. "No need to send a courier."If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it`s taken without the author`s consent. Report it.

　　Shacia stayed quiet for a long while. When she broke her silence, her voice cracked, just barely - a glimpse of what must have been tears hiding behind it. She recovered quickly, like a noblewoman should. But then, perhaps Rorri had just imagined it.

　　"Thank you for taking such good care of him," she said. "Finding the time to visit might be& tricky, but I`ll try. I do miss my sweet boy."

　　As Adar and Shacia chatted about the cat`s eating habits and quirks, Rorri`s blindfold started slipping again. He grabbed it and tightened the knot as quickly as he could, but it never stayed for long, as if it were desperate to remove itself from his face. He kept fussing with it anyway. The memory of her shock outside the opera house gnawed at him. He didn`t want to frighten her again.

　　"Rorri? Are you alright?" Shacia asked.

　　"Yes, s-sorry," he stammered, "this thing is just so slippery. We really should have thought about that before going with the silk&"

　　"If it`s uncomfortable, you`re free to remove it," she said.

　　"He`s very insecure about his eyes-"

　　"Adar, I swear to god&"

　　"I suppose it`s not just a fashion statement after all, then?" Shacia joked. "Don`t get me wrong, you wear it exceptionally well, but I don`t want you sacrificing your comfort for mine. I`ve seen your eyes once already, Rorri. It won`t hurt me to see them again."

　　"Oh! You should tell her about the thing that happened at the tavern."

　　Rorri sighed. There was no use resisting. He explained the bizarre occurrence as well as he could, and for a while, it seemed that his voice had become all there was, as if something had snatched his company away. Even his senseless hallucinations stopped, though he felt as if a giant, whited-out eye was peering at him invisibly from somewhere behind his back - a feeling from a dream, perhaps, unnerving and persistent. He ended his story with a gulp, anxiously anticipating Shacia`s assessment.

　　"So what do you think could have happened?" Adar prompted.

　　"I have no idea," Shacia said. "You said you could see lights where your hands should have been?"

　　"Yes. They moved a bit slower than my hands, though," Rorri said.

　　"Maybe the other lights were other peoples` hands, or& Hm. I wonder&"

　　Her voice trailed off. Rorri adjusted his blindfold again, re-tying it tight enough that it pressed his eyeballs into his skull. Still, it didn`t last, slipping again seconds later.

　　"Have you done any magic?" Shacia asked. Rorri shook his head.

　　"Doesn`t feel safe," he said.

　　"Well, that`s silly."

　　"What?"

　　"Interesting," Adar said. "What makes you say that?"

　　"I`ve thought a lot about what happened," Shacia said. "I think the only reason you could release such a massive burst of magic was because you didn`t care about what you were doing to your own body. If you feared doing yourself harm, the magic would have heeded that fear and fizzled out."

　　"That makes a lot of sense," Adar said. Rorri stayed silent.

　　"That was an extreme situation," Shacia continued. "I still don`t really understand it, but& I know you don`t want to hurt anyone."

　　Y O U N E V E R S A W M E

　　Rorri flinched violently at the sudden, intrusive memory of what happened outside the warehouse on Barker street. He never did figure out what he`d done to the poor man. The guard`s vacant eyes drilled into him more vividly than ever, taking up the entirety of the void. Warm hands steadied Rorri`s arm, keeping him from toppling off the chair - Adar`s hands, his reflexes as sharp as always. The blindfold slipped off Rorri`s face, hanging loose around his neck, and he squeezed his eyelids shut, willing his expression to stay stoic. The young guard`s eyes faded as Shacia spoke again.

　　"You might be a bit more limited in what magic you can do, now," Shacia said, "but I`m sure you can still do it. Even if your eyes don`t work anymore, you`ve still got those magic fingers."

　　Rorri coughed, flushing. Shacia chuckled, as infectious a sound as ever.

　　"&I don`t get it."

　　"I`ll think about it," Rorri said, giving up on fixing the blindfold, though he made sure to keep his eyes closed. "Um, while we`re on the subject, do you know anything about forbidden magic`?"

　　"God, don`t get me started," Shacia groaned. "Ever since the Black Widow rumors caught on, the Guard have been acting like certain magic has always been against the law - which it hasn`t - but people go along with it, because they don`t want to look stupid for not knowing, and hardly anyone can do magic well enough to care, anyway. It`s absurd. So now they`re saying the Widow is disguising herself with illusion magic, which she might well be, but to ban the entire practice? All that`s going to accomplish is making the theater a lot more boring."

　　"Wait - so illusion magic is forbidden, now?" Rorri said. "But that`s&"

　　"I know," Shacia said mournfully. "It`s not like the Widow is going to stop just because it`s supposedly against the law now, and any illusionist worth her salt wouldn`t get caught if they wanted to be criminal about it. But now they have a reason to prosecute her - or anyone, really - even if they don`t catch her stealing anything. I`m so sick of this city, and the idiots running it, and the idiots who let the idiots run it, and&" She sighed. "Sorry. Like I said, don`t get me started."

　　"It`s alright," Adar said. "It`s nice to know not everyone on the Plateau licks boots."

　　"Does that mean you`ve stopped doing magic?" Rorri asked.

　　"Not all magic is forbidden, and I won`t be getting arrested for doing dumb little tricks inside my own room. But anyway, you were here for some business, weren`t you? Just like me to get us sidetracked."

　　The thick paper of Rorri`s portfolio made that strange warbling sound that only paper makes when trying hard not to bend. "We brought a portfolio," he said, realizing how silly it was that he should narrate what would be plain to her.

　　"I picked his best ones."

　　"Wait - you picked the ones I told you, right?"

　　Adar said nothing. Paper shuffled and swished as Shacia reviewed his works.

　　"Oh, my," she said, stopping short.

　　"What?" Rorri said. "Which one is it?"

　　"Sorry, I thought I took that one out."

　　"Oh, it`s alright," she chuckled. "I`m sure there`s someone out there who would pay money for that."

　　"For what?"

　　"I`m sure I can work something out for you," Shacia went on. "There`s an art gala coming up soon, I think. I`ll try to secure you a booth."

　　"Thank you," Adar said. "I hope it`s not too much of an inconvenience. Money has been tight, lately, since Bilge disappeared, and-"

　　"You really don`t have to bother her with the pity story."

　　"Why do you constantly assume I pity you, Rorri?" Shacia said, her voice quiet, impatient, and vaguely colored with hurt. Rorri paused, taken aback. Wasn`t it obvious?

　　CRACK

　　The void flashed and shattered before his eyes, as if it had been struck by lightning. The sound brought with it a sick, clammy feeling, the same feeling one might get when finding a corpse.

　　"Good afternoon, dear."

　　A thin, creaky voice slithered out of the crack in the void, conjuring the peculiar image of a white serpent. Neither Adar nor Shacia made any response.

　　"Markus informed me of your deliberate disobedience to my instruction. You made him interrupt my tea with the Councilman, no less."

　　Rorri kept his head down. His heart pounded, a pulsing pattern of veins imposed over the snake. The room seemed suddenly colder, freezing his ears and his fingers. Shacia drew a stilted breath.

　　"I felt your instruction was-"

　　"I did not ask how you felt," the creaky voice hissed. "You`ve put poor Markus in quite a precarious situation, my dear. Do you wish to have him punished for your misdeeds?"

　　"...No, Madam."

　　He`d never known Shacia to sound so small, so spiritless.

　　"I thought not."

　　The Madam gave a deep sigh, raising the hairs on Rorri`s neck. Every sound she made seemed heartless and rehearsed. The serpent flicked its tongue, watching Rorri with one beady red eye.

　　"When I issue a directive, Shacia, I expect you to honor it. I agreed to let you have your visitors, didn`t I?"

　　"Yes, but-"

　　Shacia`s voice cut out.

　　"There are two men in your private quarters, Shacia. All I want is to protect your reputation. Or do you mean to be crowned Whore of the Plateau before your wedding?" The Madam scoffed. "You know what will happen to our family should your union to my Lord not come to pass, child. My god, it`s like you don`t care about us at all."

　　The Madam stepped into the room, surprisingly quiet for how heavy her presence was. Rorri bit his tongue. The floor beneath him seemed to simmer, heating the soles of his feet. He kept perfectly still, hands clasped together, but the heat from the floor crept up his legs, into his chest, then his neck, until he had to clench his jaw shut to hide the anger burning in his head.

　　"Do you care about your family, girl?"

　　The voice cut the air just in front of him. Shacia sniffed. He pictured himself snatching the serpent and strangling it with his bare hands.

　　"Of course I do-"

　　"Then get this smut" - A light thump, followed by the sound of scattering paper - "out of my house, and I`ll see to it that your friends are gently escorted off of the property."

　　The Madam`s footsteps began to recede, taking the snake with her.

　　"You."

　　The snake stopped. Rorri tensed, sure she was addressing him.

　　"Mother, he`s-"

　　Shacia`s voice cut out again. He wondered what gesture could possibly silence her so quickly.

　　"Where are you from, boy?"

　　Rorri cleared his throat. "B-Belethli-"

　　"Speak up," the Madam spat. Rorri`s skin sweltered, as if she were a spirit of fire spitting embers on him.

　　"Belethlian," he said.

　　"I thought so," she said. "I didn`t think you`d be so dark. From a distance, you might be mistaken for a Du閚. I`m surprised the Guard haven`t shot you down yet."

　　Rorri`s eyes snapped open. He looked at the Madam directly, and from where she stood, bright yellow - the color of fear - filled out the woman`s petite silhouette. All around him, trees popped up out of the smoldering ground, like the vision he`d had at the tavern, but sinister, hot, oppressive. The foliage, the flowers, everything that would have been beautiful instead sprouted up in flames. He tried to focus on Shacia`s sweet, magic scent, but the stink of the forest`s smoke was already winding into his head.

　　"I heard the fires died down months ago," the Madam continued lightly, as if she were chatting about the weather. "Why don`t you go back to where you came from?"

　　The white serpent lunged and bared its fangs, but he didn`t budge. It, too, flooded a cowardly yellow. The fires didn`t faze him. He was too furious. He pictured himself stomping the snake`s head in, pinning it until it stopped moving. Rorri had never been a violent person, but this one deserved it. Maybe it was wrong to think that way, but he couldn`t help it. It had hurt Shacia. It deserved to be stomped.

　　"Freak," the Madam muttered before she left the room. The forest still crackled and spat. His hands trembled. He didn`t realize how tight he was clenching them together.

　　A sniff to his other side jerked him out of the fire. Rorri glanced to where Shacia sat. A soft periwinkle light silhouetted her slumped-over form, a dark scribble covering her head and her chest. The forest disappeared altogether, leaving her floating, alone, in the void. He knew the slope of her shoulders, the shape of her slippers, the way her hair fell from its bun& Though her features were missing, Shacia was undoubtedly there, just a few feet away. He had already known it to be true, but to see her, even in that strange, surreal way&

　　"I`m sorry," she whispered. Her voice came as a heavy, viscous stream, the color of sorrow. It dripped to the ground and pooled at her feet.

　　"This way, sers," Markus said, just as Adar tapped Rorri`s arm, signaling it was time for them to leave.