Chapter 17: Chapter 16 ∞ Frost
That morning, I helped Mistress Kora attend to our injured guest to change his bandages. He did throw me out a little while after, considering it was a guy he was changing. Apparently, he didn't want my eyes being 'soiled.' My 'soiled eyes' had to do a roll at that, but I made no protest. Our guest also seemed embarrassed with me being in the room, so I retreated. I took a peek though.
Damn, okay.
I wasn't able to take a good look at his body before, primarily because I was too horrified to watch Kora perform the surgery and stitching. However, aside from the wound under his rib cage that had just recently been closed, numerous scars riddled his body. His bones jutted out of his skin and his stomach was caving under ever so slightly. No wonder he looked so slender—I would take it that he was malnourished. Whatever his life had been, surely…it wasn't pleasant.
Indeed, like Aunt Safia had said, his wounds had already pretty much healed. It was a little uncanny—but I suppose that was just how things were.
To distract me, Mistress Veronika pulled me to the garden to check on my physical training. This was already pretty much my Zumba. The dance, however, consisted of kung-fu…kinda. It wasn't really kung-fu, but it sure did resemble one.
Actually, I don't know much about martial arts. To me, they were all kung fu.
Besides, I wasn't an active person. I was that smart girl in class who got reasonably good grades without trying, who went to choir and orchestra practice every weekend, geeked about books, and, if she hadn't been so lazy, could've probably finished at the top of her class. I was a person of the arts and humanities. I later got into literature and linguistics because I was just so dumb at math. Though, I had to say I wasn't so bad at science.
To make my days go easier when I had to work out, I just sing the song 'everybody goes kung-fu fighting' in my head when I was moving—if that was even right. I only hear it in movies, I don't expect to know the lyrics.
Unfortunately, I wasn't born to wield blades. While I was sturdier than most kids—smarter, too—I didn't have the talent for it. So much for being a swordmaster in this life. Whatever martial arts I was taught by Mistress Veronika were only the barest bit to help me protect myself just in case I needed it.
"Evy," Mistress Veronika began, sighing as I got into the stance she taught me. She had that look in her eyes that said, 'this is hopeless.' Her shoulders dropped as she bent down on her knees. "I know you don't like this, but I need you to try."
Whoop. I don't like that tone. "I am trying, mistress," I said, dreading what was coming next. "I'm not very good, though…" It'd been, like, six years and I could still barely parry any blow coming my way. Let's just acknowledge the fact that I had zero talent for these things and move on already! God, how I hated this.
She sighed. "Okay. I know that face. I know how much you loathe this. I suppose six years is enough to see this isn't really your area…" She gazed at me defeatedly. "Well, maybe melee is not for you. I'm being very close-minded because swords are what I prefer. Consider what you've learned until now a supplement to a specialty. They don't necessarily mean that they have been wasted." She paused, thinking for a few moments. She scratched her head. "Let's think long-range. You have good focus and you have a nice aim in general. If you can knock people down before they get to you, you won't have any problem."
My brows rose. "Are we talking shooting things?"
Now we're talking! I love shooting things!
"Yes. Let me just get the equipment. This isn't my specialty so what I'm about to teach you is the very limited knowledge I know."
I looked at the dummy sword in my hands. While I had learned a lot of things with Mistress Veronika's patient guidance, I was a little disappointed that I could not be a good student. I was pretty much the only kid around she was teaching and even though she was trying not to put a lot of expectations on me, I knew she wanted me to excel. The same went for dancing with my Mistress Neilly. I was that ungraceful duck flapping by the lakeshores while all the other swans made graceful dives straight into the water. I wasn't bad, but, like I said, I lacked grace.
I sank on the ground with the dummy sword on my legs, thinking I could dance if I tried—I could be an excellent swordsman too if I tried. However, I was only good with meme dances because I moved funny and I was only ever good at kicking people right where they least expect it. Other than that, nothing much could be expected of me.
They said effort beat talent—while that much was true, I found it futile chasing after something I wasn't good at. It's fun knowing about it, but it's like asking a fish to climb a tree! While there wasn't any harm in trying, I better just go do the things I know I can do very well. It would save me a lot of effort and time.
Then again, the situation wasn't the same for everyone. People were born to rebel. The things they weren't good at, they found it like some sort of challenge to work even harder. Besides, it wasn't like society allowed people to pursue what they liked all the time as well. There were always the unfortunate ones, falling to mediocrity for the very reason—they got shipped in the wrong boxes.
I buried the tip of the sword on the ground just enough that I can comfortably put my chin on the pommel as I gazed at the willow tree. It was a bit further away from here but became a little enthralling as the breeze brushed at its droopy curtain of leaves. Feeling a gaze on me, I looked up and found the doors open to the lobby, with Mistress Kora having just finished tending to our injured person. The lobby had direct access to the garden area so opening the doors would connect the living and outdoor space.
It wasn't Mistress Kora looking, but, as I expected, our guest. With the light of the sun openly striking his face, I noticed his cheeks and eyes carried some hollowness. It hadn't occurred to me until now. Really. This guy. Just what kind of suffering did he go through?
When I returned his gaze, he looked away.
I was probably making a fool of myself just now. I rubbed my sore hands. There were tender places where I gripped too hard. My mother would probably be all over me afterward, applying ointment to all the smallest injuries she could find. Compared to that guy who took loads of beating, with the amount of scars and callouses he had, I think I was being babied a little too much.
The sun peeked from the clouds and cast a hot ray of shine down on me. Disgruntled, I retreated to a shade under the nearest tree. Mistress Veronika came back a few beats later, empty-handed.
"The bow I have is unsuitable," she said. "It's too heavy for you. I want to start with something light, so I'm going to go to town tomorrow to fetch you something for practice. If this isn't something you're made for, we better first invest in something cheap first."
I nodded. "Does that mean I can finally do other things?" I asked. "Can I go attend to other things now?"
She sighed. "Okay. But you're coming with me tomorrow, alright?"
I bounced happily on my heels and went to do my own thing for the rest of the day. I helped with meager chores, attended to my new cocktail of perfume, and went into the music room for a brief practice.
When the whole day was spent, I decided to read up some more to find out if anything of importance mentioned something about the Veils. I retreated to a spot under the weeping willow tree, using the light of a lamp and the comfort of my thick blanket to browse through the book I had taken. So far no good.
I briefly gazed up at the peering moon and thought back to Amber's words when he appeared before me in the shadows. Night had come so fast and now, I'm sitting under the weeping willow, reading under the fairylight. Everyone else saw Amber as air and heeded him as such. Like he said, I was the only one who could see him as well as those shadow things.
I could not understand why I was born with this constitution. Then again, my life so far hadn't been very ordinary seeing as I reincarnated with memories of my past life. In hindsight, it was indeed challenging in its own right. I saw my struggles of being unable to act like my 'true age.' My body's instinctive childish mannerisms conflicted with the maturity of my mind and, often, I would have these lapses. While they have faded as I grew, it made me think that this was connected with my affinity with 'death.' Now, I realized that the real challenge was just starting.
I was trying to recall everything that Amber had told me from our most recent meeting. He had revealed to me a lot of useful information, but I was not at the capacity to understand them provided my lack of knowledge about what the heck he was talking about.
Two years' time. He mentioned that he would be restored to his full power by then—should be, at least. I was crossing my fingers at that as I was very clueless. Though, if he would appear again in the next new moon, I would have a chance to ask him some more questions. None of the books I had jumped on was helping supplement me with the information I needed. In fact, having read almost everything, I had run out of things to turn to.
"Evy, it's already very late. You should go back inside."
Mistress Marian approached me. Her fair locks were washed white under the pale light of the moon, her cheeks flushed ever so slightly from the cold breath of the night. I marveled at my mistress' beauty and sighed as I remembered my own insecurities—this life and the past. If there were one most striking and alluring among the mistresses, it would be this woman. She was just on a whole 'nother level of beauty.
I fixed the thick coat around my shoulders as I met her eyes. "What day is it today? You aren't going to service, are you?" I asked, brows furrowing.
The seven days of the week here were named after each of the dragons, just like how Earth's were named after some Norse gods. From what I remember, it was a 'Balseli' today and, being the third night, it was the equivalent of a Tuesday. I considered Sunday the first day of the week, which in this place was considered 'Azurli.' I usually just say Sunday, Monday, and so on in my head because it's still way more natural, not to mention my inner translator often did this automatically as well.
"No, there is no service today," she said with a small shake of her head. "It is freezing out tonight. Can you even read here? Isn't it too dark?"
I shot a glance at the lamp I had hung on a low branch of the willow tree. It was bright enough as I had stuffed it with enough lightmoss to last me a whole week. It was the same stuff they used to stuff the street posts. These things absorbed daylight sun from morning to sunset and glowed brightly until dawn the next day.
I brushed back a stray wavy strand of hair behind my ear before eyeing the instrument she carried with her. It was her favorite harp.
I stifled my jaw from dropping and gazed at her face instead. "Why are you out here, then?" I asked. She reminded me of that guy from high school who lugged around a case carrying their guitar, maybe even those from the orchestra with their pitch black cases as they poured out after practice.
"Perhaps we had the same idea," she stated with a small smile, sinking on the spot beside me and pulling the harp towards her in a comfortable playing position. "Your mother is worried, but she is also very hesitant in dragging you inside. So, I decided maybe I would join you here and we can go back together later."
"Mm." I looked back down at the book I was reading. "You're planning to play?"
"Perhaps," she told me. "But I feel tired with not much inspiration today. Artists get weary of their craft at times and I need to marvel on my incompetence tonight."
"Mistress, if other people hear you, they'll be tempted to beat you senseless out of frustration."
"Mm. I just don't hear myself the way others do. Like they said, creators will always find fault in their creations—they're their own worst critics. Must be why the gods are so disappointed in us," she muttered. The thought played around in my head for a while until she spoke again. "I noticed that whenever you sit here, you sing a certain song. However, you never try to render it through any instrument. Why is that?"
"The song is unfinished," I said, thinking she was referring to that hum I have been trying so hard to juice from this tree. It wasn't actually this tree, per se. This weeping willow grew on the blood of nature—energy pools where Conduits drew their power. A part of me had long since expected the truth I have been told just recently, as I had scoured through many books to enlighten myself about this world's ways. Those who could tune in and tap into these energy pools meant they had a strong connection with a particular domain of power. This was usually the first sign that a person was a Conduit. I now knew why Mistress Veronika had asked me to sit here for a long time a few years ago.
"It is too beautiful not to be heard," Mistress Marian began. "And I can see that it isn't simple. Why don't you give it a try?" she offered.
I glanced at the harp she had positioned in front of her as an encouraging smile curled on her lips. I lowered the book to the spot on the ground just beside my thigh, fingers twitching towards the instrument.
"It's your favorite harp," I said. "Is it alright for me to touch it?"
"You are my only student, Evy," Mistress Marian told me. "And I trust you to be responsible."
Mistress Marian's harp had twenty-two Angel's Hair strings set in a beautiful, light golden oak which was shaped in the semblance of a heart. Each string was woven from the silken threads of a rare butterfly's cocoon. It was the sort that did not easily break. Its toughness posed chances of suffocating the butterfly, causing it to die before it could even leave the cocoon. Details of the process of harvest spoke of heavenly music as the wings would writhe their way out and the butterfly, if successful, would have the most robust wings that would enable it to carry a fully-grown man in the air for an hour straight. This butterfly, they called it Auritania, came from somewhere in the far north, in the desolate mountain ranges where temperatures would cause anything to instantly freeze upon contact with the arid weather.
An inch of these strings could easily buy a mansion in the very center of the capital.
And for the fortune it cost, it sounded just as rich.
I eyed it warily as Mistress Marian offered it to me. I swallowed and took it into my arms, afraid I would drop it. I pulled the harp towards me and set it in a comfortable position. I then laid my hands on the string and tested it with a pluck.
If there were diamonds in the form of sound, this was it. I have heard Mistress Marian play this harp several times before, but it felt different in my hands. Besides, she only brought this out during special occasions. Why was it out on such an ordinary night?
Shucks. I think the past seven or eight years of learning how to play this thing had just breezed past me. Where was that chord? What song do I play? Mother of all. Finger positions. What the hell is up with my fingers?
I fingered the harp nervously. My hesitation caused a tremor in my hands that resulted in me plucking a lousy note. I came to a stop like a deer in the headlights. My face had my Mistress Marian laughing and I felt my cheeks flush when I realized I literally froze in fear and disorientation, considering the value of the treasure I was holding in my hands.
"I'm not as good as the player you are, mistress," I hurriedly said. "This harp is wasted in my hands."
"What are you talking about? There's no use for an instrument that will not be played. If you plan on treating it like a treasure, then we should put it behind a glass display. However, Evyionne, what makes this harp so prized is the collaboration of the person playing it and the sounds it is capable of making. Without the music, that harp and those strings are useless."
I bit my lip. I lightly touched the strings—they were sensitive to the smallest tremors my hands were making. Faintly, I could hear my pulse reverberating in them. It seemed as though this harp was capable of knowing the state of its player's mind and reflected it.
I took several deep breaths to calm myself, collecting my thoughts and sinking into a more composed state of mind. This wasn't the time to dwell on my shortcomings. I knew I wasn't perfect—but who cared about that at the moment?
My mind had been very jumbled as of late. Or maybe I was really just a big overthinker. I should calm down, tone down the too many thoughts playing around in my head, and focus on the present.
Once I got a stable breathing and my heart rate finally calmed, I pulled on the first note on the harp. It was experimental—like leaning in for a first kiss, both cluelessly and hesitantly. I hit a familiar note. And from that, I continued.
C. G. G sharp. C. G.
"What is that?" Mistress Marian's brows raised.
I couldn't sing it out loud, but my head was already belting out the lyrics.
Yuuuuuuu. Soulja boy off in this hoe. Watch me crank it, watch me roll.
"Yuuuuuuuu," I unconsciously sang.
"Me?"
I couldn't hold myself back from laughing. The word 'yu' did actually mean 'you' in a language variant of Veneryali, which also happened to be the widely spoken where Mistress Marian was from. It seemed coincidences happened just like that.
My mistress cranked a brow high as she looked at me cluelessly.
"No, no. That was just warmup practice," I told her. "It's nothing."
Seeing as I would not be able to take this seriously if I continued, I stopped. However, this song was the pinnacle of simplicity. It only had variations in rhythm, but the notes remained the same.
"But that was kind of fun. Why not try going with that?"
"Really?"
I pulled on the same notes again. C. G. G sharp. C. G. I bobbed my head up and down and side to side. Seeing what I was doing, my mistress hesitantly followed.
"Why do you do this?" she asked, her head swaying with me. "We're going to end up looking like chickens."
I laughed and continued the 'chicken head' motion.
"Evy…" Marian threw her head back laughing as she slapped her thigh. She had stopped trying while I continued bobbing and circling my neck. "Why is it so funny when you do it?"
I was just good like that. This was why my mother was so disappointed in me in my past life. I spent a good amount of my time learning how to be a good meme—not that I really became one. Which is an even bigger disappointment.
After getting a good laugh and shaking the tension off, we slipped into a more serious mood. I tuned into my connection with the willow tree and listened to the music I had been hearing. I learned how to listen to the things that normally wouldn't be heard by ordinary folks in this world. I knew. Aside from Mistress Veronika and Mistress Lamia, no one else were capable of it.
It was that familiar tune that I have heard so many times before—the very same song those stars in the in-between were singing. The elements here were singing it too, and I could hear it by tapping into the energy pools that bled into this weeping willow tree.
One by one, the music poured through my fingers and straight into the harp. The beautiful symphony inched close to the music I was hearing. I now knew the reason why they called it Angel's Hair strings—it could emulate the sounds that were not of the corporeal plane.
Like the pasta.
This isn't the time to think about food.
Anyway.
It now made sense to me why they called them 'Conduit.' They were glorified living tools for channeling power. I suppose I was included in that. What else could explain what was happening?
As I rendered the music into the instrument, I noticed that a particular force from the blood of nature, as though attracted by the music, gathered in the immediate vicinity. Cold air rushed in and the temperature dropped. One color in the energy pools thickened around me—I recognized it as the particular energy involved with Kaliya's domain. It had that painfully freezing touch and, as it thickened, frost crystallized with a crunch around the grass at my feet and steadily clung to the bark of the tree at my back. Where the peculiar frost touched, death followed. The grass immediately blackened, their emerald leaves drained of color.
The touch of death.
By the time I realized what was happening and stopped, it had spread over five meters from my spot and had climbed up the weeping willow tree. Mistress Marian had retreated far, avoiding it as it crept to where she stood.
"Evy…" she whispered, face pale with shock.
I stopped playing, breath knocked out of my lungs as I comprehended what had just transpired.
The 'energy pools' consisted of many energies that made up the universe. Just as Mistress Veronika explained to me before, each dragon was responsible for guarding over a specific domain. These domains, these energies, all pooled and went around together like a rainbow. By being a Conduit, one was capable of isolating the energies of these particular domains and utilizing them to do what they wanted to be done.
With the music I played, I had isolated the stream of energy from the energy pools that was responsible for the frost. This was death's domain.
"Dragons above," Marian muttered.
The frost stayed, thin sheets of ice webbing across the sharp-tipped grass.
I stood and looked at Mistress Marian in panic. "Mistress, mistress, I'm so sorry…I didn't know. I didn't mean to—"
"Evy. Shh. Come here. Come here, darling. Come to your mistress." I hesitantly went in her direction but feared touching her.
"Mistress." I shook my head.
The fear and panic had reached overwhelming heights. I inched my way across the frost-covered grass, hearing the sharp crunches under the soles of my shoes as I walked. While this was kinda cool in its own right, my heart dropped when I realized what sort of thing this could lead to. If I wanted it, I could easily kill anybody. It would just take a touch of this frost and kaboom anybody with a breath in their lungs would be six feet under.
Dammit. What was I supposed to be? Dark Elsa? Then again, this wasn't a simple issue of letting it go. It concerned being chased with guns and the front door pounded with long logs by a group of people singing for your demise. I only wanted a peaceful time vanishing into nothingness in the in-between. How did I end up with such a messy life?
It wasn't the act of killing anyone or wreaking havoc that I was fearing. Instead, it was the reaction of people when they realize what I could do. I would be hunted down with pitchforks and torches like some sort of witch and my peaceful life would be constantly threatened. No wonder my mistresses were worried. They had every reason to be!
'If there's anyone who can hope of ever controlling the Veils, it's only those with the hands of death or those who have been touched by it,' I remembered Amber saying.
Mistress Marian didn't wait for me to get to her. She unabashedly pulled me into her arms and offered me the warmth of her embrace. I tried to retreat, panicked at the thought of the frost catching her as well.
"No, mistress. Don't—"
But none of that happened.
"It's normal, darling," she told me, leaning down to whisper in my ear as her fingers weaved through her hair. "And I'm okay, see?" She gave me a vibrant smile. "You're alright, Evy. You're alright."
Comforted, I began to calm down again, the harp in my tight grip.
I heard someone come. I looked up to see Mistress Veronika, my adoptive mother Hellenia, and Mistress Neilly making their way towards me. Veronika wore a frown on her face as she approached. She took a swift glance at the patch of frost-covered dead grass before turning to the other mistresses and telling them something.
I couldn't hear what it was, but I panicked anyway.
I caught Mistress Veronika exchange glances with Mistress Marian, who didn't let me go just yet, even as they came near. When my adoptive mother reached my side, she began to smother me. It was only then that Mistress Marian retreated, with Mistress Neilly helping guide her away.
I took a peek at the two of my mistresses and realized Marian wasn't as okay like she told me she was. The tips of her fingers were blue and I caught her color paling even further. Before I could make out her whole condition, Mistress Veronika blocked my line of sight.
"Evy, are you okay?" Veronika inquired.
"I'm alright, mistress…" I whispered. "What about Mistress Marian?"
"She's okay."
"Don't lie to me," I said. The statement came out harsher than I thought, sliding past my teeth in a slight hiss. "Please just tell me the truth. You don't have to keep me from all of it. I'm old enough to understand. You know how I am," I told them. "It's not helping me at all. If I hurt you, if I trouble you, I would like to know. You don't have to lie to me if you think it's going to keep me safe and protected."
"No, of course not, my daughter," my adoptive mother Hellenia began. Tears pricked her eyes. "You cannot hurt or trouble your mistresses and I, alright?"
"Please stop lying…" I muttered. "I know you haven't been telling me everything. Why don't you just be honest with me for once? I'm not a stupid little girl."
I broke away from their hold and ran in the direction of my room. I then shut myself in, locking my door and hiding under the covers of my bed. The harp was still in my hands. I didn't know how to let it go.
I knew I was technically a thirty-something woman, but did I even do any growing up since my last life? No. I had to do it all over again. This was effing weird. I would suppose that it's the fact that I was still physically a child that I still had tantrums. I was still a kid in this life, so I suppose that allowed me a couple of childish fits. I found that acting in this manner occasionally rose like instinct. It wasn't something my mental maturity could always suppress.
This was too tiring—keeping up this charade. I would like it if they were just honest with me. I would love it if I could be honest with them too. However, the matters of my reincarnation weren't something I think I could readily disclose.
I guess I was more affected than I thought.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone