A Song of Snow and Ashes by S.J. Drew
The first time she found him there, she made ready to leave, but he had told her she was welcome to use it. For all their evenings on that watchtower, they only had three conversations of any length, and those came about a week apart. In the course of those conversations, it dawned on her that he had a formal way of speaking, as she did, and she realized that Northern was probably not his native language. But that was not something they talked about. The first conversation was when he taught her the names of the constellations, and some of the mythology behind them. The second conversation was about singing. Eliora had a wonderfully clear voice for singing, and her language was flowing and had a nice rhythm. She had been singing softly to herself on the watchtower, and so had not heard Davin approach.
"That was beautiful," he remarked.
She jumped, and flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't hear you coming."
"Where did you learn to sing?"
"History class. It's standard learning."
"You don't have written records?" he asked. "I thought that's what you did for a living."
"We do have written records now, but my people used to be, what's the word, wanderers? Travelers? Living out in the desert in small groups?"
"Nomads," he offered helpfully.
"Right. Nomads then. Many people still are nomads, and in that kind of life written records just aren't practical. So history is kept through songs passed down generation to generation. We still learn the old songs in school."
"Do you have bards in your society? People who just sing as their job?"
"Yes, and no. Those who sing must also write new songs, and I'm not a poet. And I didn't have the luxury of becoming an artisan anyway. I needed work that would provide me with a steady salary right from the beginning."
"Pity that. I think you've got one of the loveliest voices I've ever heard."
She blushed. "Please don't tell anyone though."
"Why not? Do you get stage fright?"
"Stage fright?" she repeated.
"Get embarrassed and nervous when you sing for lots of people," he clarified.
"Yes, I do. Even for my family. Frankly, I'm embarrassed right now."
"Don't be embarrassed on my account. I won't tell anyone. What were you singing about?"
"It was about the coming of summer."
"Summer?" A cold sleet was starting to fall from the sky. "How odd."
"It's nearing summer where I come from," she shrugged. "The days grow long, the sun grows hotter. The nomads come in from the deep deserts with their goods; exotic spices, textiles, gems, and sometimes even information about new water sources. Life seems busier, yet it stops during the heat of the day. It's a dangerous time, but one of hope and growth," she explained with a wistful expression. Then she sighed. "And here it's cold and wet and everything's dying." She glanced at him, embarrassed.
He had an odd look on his face.
"I'm sorry. This must be terribly boring, and when I sing I have a tendency to start speaking like the poet. Fine for song, but silly for ordinary conversation."
"It's fine."
They sat there a few moments, staring at the sky.
"You don't have to stop singing because of me," he commented.
"I told you, I'm embarrassed now."
"You don't have to be. I won't tell anyone. I won't judge your performance. I'll just listen."
She gave him a sharp look, but he was still staring out at the night, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. After some time in sitting in silence, she softly started to sing again.
The third conversation was a tutorial on the proper way to make and throw snowballs. Both got wet and cold, but both were laughing when they decided to go inside and get warm. Mostly, though, they sat in silence, or after Davin found out she could sing, he asked her to do so. She guessed he enjoyed her company, and she enjoyed his well enough, but she could not figure out what he wanted from her, if anything.
The language lessons took up less time in the morning, as Jomei filled her in on the news of the area. At night she read books on the history of the region, and refreshed her knowledge of the Mage Wars. Within about two weeks, Jomei helped her plan for a trip to Mulago. They sent off a message using to make an appointment with the administrator of the Arcane Academy, although the pretense was to see about admittance for an older student. They also had to find clothes and money. Finally both of them felt she was ready.
She went to breakfast as normal, but instead of going to Jomei's cottage, she went to her own. Hanae was recruited to help Eliora learn to dress like a proper human lady, and of course sworn to secrecy. She found a plain, long, dark purple dress with appropriate underclothes.
"I do not like this," Eliora muttered in the Light language. "I thought the ordinary undergarments were tight enough."
"This is to give you shape," replied Hanae, pulling at a corset-like garment. "You don't need that under linen shirts and tunics. You just need support."
"Bother."
"I couldn't find any good shoes, so you'll just have to wear boots. But they shouldn't be noticed under the dress."
The material was like velvet, and Eliora thought it somewhat itchy.
"I guess you should just braid up your hair like usual," the demian continued. "Although most human women just braid it and leave it hanging down."
"I could do that."
When Eliora was fully dressed, she packed a leather bag with some money, some notes, a map of Mulago, and a note from Jomei in case she needed to go to the Temple of Day for some reason. The bag was large and mostly empty, but would hold the books she hoped to acquire.
"This will keep you warm," Hanae said, handing her a heavy, dark gray hooded cloak.
"I don't feel cold."
"You will look strange if you are out without a cloak when the snow is on the ground."
"Good point."
"Good luck, my Lady."
"Thank you, Hanae." With that, she turned and disappeared.
A month passed in Renfrew. Rain soon turned to sleet, which soon turned to snow. The leaves changed colors and fell off, leaving black skeletons of trees. A blanket of white covered the city, giving it a slightly unreal look. Donnan was busy carrying messages for the Order, continuing his fighting practice, and his study of Arcana. Blake had been very supportive when he found out Donnan was going to help bring about the unification of the city-states, and like Dwyer, he dismissed Alain's objections as naive. Privately, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Alain was probably wiser than the priests gave him credit for.
His relationship with his brother had been a little strained. Alain did not ask him what he was up to, and didn't lecture him on right and wrong again. He did talk about the guard, and seemed to emphasize what good the guard was doing. He also hinted that Reese was going to get his comeuppance soon. Donnan didn't think anything was really going to come of it, and only felt more bitter.
He worked hard in his tutoring, and did well enough to go out with Aolani three more times. They talked about politics, the guard, the weather, and various sundry topics. She talked amiably about her teaching, her students, but only a little bit about herself and her family. He talked little of his family, mostly about what adventures Alain had during the night watch. Not once did she offer to see him outside of tutoring or the outings they went on as a reward for his good performance, and he felt too insecure to ask, sure he would be rejected. The second of their outings was interrupted by a young woman of Aolani's age, who walked over to the table to talk to Aolani. She completely ignored Donnan, which clearly made Aolani uncomfortable, and she soon sent her friend away.
"Sorry about that," she apologized.
"It was nice of her to say hello," he replied bitterly.
She sighed. "Good breeding doesn't mean good manners. Unfortunately."
"Why didn't you introduce me?"
"I do apologize for that. It was terribly rude of me. But
she would have forgotten your name within minutes of leaving the table. Besides, she might have taken that as an invitation to stay longer."
"Alright. I guess."
She frowned, but turned the conversation to lighter subjects.
As his studies progressed, Dwyer started to talk more and more often of visiting Mulago. Donnan agreed, and the priest made plans.
"Are you ready to go?" the priest asked one morning.
"What?" he asked, surprised.
"Everything is all set. As you might imagine, those buying books on mind magic are regarded with some suspicion. But I have directions for you to a shop that will be sympathetic to your particular needs."
"Yeah. Sure. Today's as good as any day, right?" he answered, trying to gather his courage.
"Do you think you can speak enough Arcana to get by?"
"Yeah."
"Very well. I suggest you go soon, and appear near Public Square. It's busy all hours of the day, but especially in the mornings. Then walk to your destination. I don't think it's a good idea to use too many of your abilities in the vicinity of the Arcane Academy."
"Alright." Donnan stood.
The priest handed him a large leather bag. "It has money and a scroll with directions. It should have enough room to hold several books. I suggest you change in your nicest clothes first. You're too young to be allowed to be both wealthy and poorly dressed. And wear a cloak. I've noticed you've been walking around without one."
"I'm not cold."
"Be that as it may, you do stand out without a cloak in this weather."
He nodded, then left. After a change of clothes, he stepped into the
"That was beautiful," he remarked.
She jumped, and flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't hear you coming."
"Where did you learn to sing?"
"History class. It's standard learning."
"You don't have written records?" he asked. "I thought that's what you did for a living."
"We do have written records now, but my people used to be, what's the word, wanderers? Travelers? Living out in the desert in small groups?"
"Nomads," he offered helpfully.
"Right. Nomads then. Many people still are nomads, and in that kind of life written records just aren't practical. So history is kept through songs passed down generation to generation. We still learn the old songs in school."
"Do you have bards in your society? People who just sing as their job?"
"Yes, and no. Those who sing must also write new songs, and I'm not a poet. And I didn't have the luxury of becoming an artisan anyway. I needed work that would provide me with a steady salary right from the beginning."
"Pity that. I think you've got one of the loveliest voices I've ever heard."
She blushed. "Please don't tell anyone though."
"Why not? Do you get stage fright?"
"Stage fright?" she repeated.
"Get embarrassed and nervous when you sing for lots of people," he clarified.
"Yes, I do. Even for my family. Frankly, I'm embarrassed right now."
"Don't be embarrassed on my account. I won't tell anyone. What were you singing about?"
"It was about the coming of summer."
"Summer?" A cold sleet was starting to fall from the sky. "How odd."
"It's nearing summer where I come from," she shrugged. "The days grow long, the sun grows hotter. The nomads come in from the deep deserts with their goods; exotic spices, textiles, gems, and sometimes even information about new water sources. Life seems busier, yet it stops during the heat of the day. It's a dangerous time, but one of hope and growth," she explained with a wistful expression. Then she sighed. "And here it's cold and wet and everything's dying." She glanced at him, embarrassed.
He had an odd look on his face.
"I'm sorry. This must be terribly boring, and when I sing I have a tendency to start speaking like the poet. Fine for song, but silly for ordinary conversation."
"It's fine."
They sat there a few moments, staring at the sky.
"You don't have to stop singing because of me," he commented.
"I told you, I'm embarrassed now."
"You don't have to be. I won't tell anyone. I won't judge your performance. I'll just listen."
She gave him a sharp look, but he was still staring out at the night, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. After some time in sitting in silence, she softly started to sing again.
The third conversation was a tutorial on the proper way to make and throw snowballs. Both got wet and cold, but both were laughing when they decided to go inside and get warm. Mostly, though, they sat in silence, or after Davin found out she could sing, he asked her to do so. She guessed he enjoyed her company, and she enjoyed his well enough, but she could not figure out what he wanted from her, if anything.
The language lessons took up less time in the morning, as Jomei filled her in on the news of the area. At night she read books on the history of the region, and refreshed her knowledge of the Mage Wars. Within about two weeks, Jomei helped her plan for a trip to Mulago. They sent off a message using to make an appointment with the administrator of the Arcane Academy, although the pretense was to see about admittance for an older student. They also had to find clothes and money. Finally both of them felt she was ready.
She went to breakfast as normal, but instead of going to Jomei's cottage, she went to her own. Hanae was recruited to help Eliora learn to dress like a proper human lady, and of course sworn to secrecy. She found a plain, long, dark purple dress with appropriate underclothes.
"I do not like this," Eliora muttered in the Light language. "I thought the ordinary undergarments were tight enough."
"This is to give you shape," replied Hanae, pulling at a corset-like garment. "You don't need that under linen shirts and tunics. You just need support."
"Bother."
"I couldn't find any good shoes, so you'll just have to wear boots. But they shouldn't be noticed under the dress."
The material was like velvet, and Eliora thought it somewhat itchy.
"I guess you should just braid up your hair like usual," the demian continued. "Although most human women just braid it and leave it hanging down."
"I could do that."
When Eliora was fully dressed, she packed a leather bag with some money, some notes, a map of Mulago, and a note from Jomei in case she needed to go to the Temple of Day for some reason. The bag was large and mostly empty, but would hold the books she hoped to acquire.
"This will keep you warm," Hanae said, handing her a heavy, dark gray hooded cloak.
"I don't feel cold."
"You will look strange if you are out without a cloak when the snow is on the ground."
"Good point."
"Good luck, my Lady."
"Thank you, Hanae." With that, she turned and disappeared.
A month passed in Renfrew. Rain soon turned to sleet, which soon turned to snow. The leaves changed colors and fell off, leaving black skeletons of trees. A blanket of white covered the city, giving it a slightly unreal look. Donnan was busy carrying messages for the Order, continuing his fighting practice, and his study of Arcana. Blake had been very supportive when he found out Donnan was going to help bring about the unification of the city-states, and like Dwyer, he dismissed Alain's objections as naive. Privately, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that Alain was probably wiser than the priests gave him credit for.
His relationship with his brother had been a little strained. Alain did not ask him what he was up to, and didn't lecture him on right and wrong again. He did talk about the guard, and seemed to emphasize what good the guard was doing. He also hinted that Reese was going to get his comeuppance soon. Donnan didn't think anything was really going to come of it, and only felt more bitter.
He worked hard in his tutoring, and did well enough to go out with Aolani three more times. They talked about politics, the guard, the weather, and various sundry topics. She talked amiably about her teaching, her students, but only a little bit about herself and her family. He talked little of his family, mostly about what adventures Alain had during the night watch. Not once did she offer to see him outside of tutoring or the outings they went on as a reward for his good performance, and he felt too insecure to ask, sure he would be rejected. The second of their outings was interrupted by a young woman of Aolani's age, who walked over to the table to talk to Aolani. She completely ignored Donnan, which clearly made Aolani uncomfortable, and she soon sent her friend away.
"Sorry about that," she apologized.
"It was nice of her to say hello," he replied bitterly.
She sighed. "Good breeding doesn't mean good manners. Unfortunately."
"Why didn't you introduce me?"
"I do apologize for that. It was terribly rude of me. But
"Alright. I guess."
She frowned, but turned the conversation to lighter subjects.
As his studies progressed, Dwyer started to talk more and more often of visiting Mulago. Donnan agreed, and the priest made plans.
"Are you ready to go?" the priest asked one morning.
"What?" he asked, surprised.
"Everything is all set. As you might imagine, those buying books on mind magic are regarded with some suspicion. But I have directions for you to a shop that will be sympathetic to your particular needs."
"Yeah. Sure. Today's as good as any day, right?" he answered, trying to gather his courage.
"Do you think you can speak enough Arcana to get by?"
"Yeah."
"Very well. I suggest you go soon, and appear near Public Square. It's busy all hours of the day, but especially in the mornings. Then walk to your destination. I don't think it's a good idea to use too many of your abilities in the vicinity of the Arcane Academy."
"Alright." Donnan stood.
The priest handed him a large leather bag. "It has money and a scroll with directions. It should have enough room to hold several books. I suggest you change in your nicest clothes first. You're too young to be allowed to be both wealthy and poorly dressed. And wear a cloak. I've noticed you've been walking around without one."
"I'm not cold."
"Be that as it may, you do stand out without a cloak in this weather."
He nodded, then left. After a change of clothes, he stepped into the