บท 51: Chapter 49
The place we arrived at after another half-hour of leisurely walking reminded me somewhat of an ancient Greek theater... an orchestra pit, if I remember correctly. More precisely, it was the latter that resembled this place, though the Tower itself was far older.
(Something approximately like that.)
Around fifty people were already seated on the magically enhanced benches. Most of them, in fact, were women. Very beautiful women. So, to avoid any mishaps, I focused exclusively on Medea, as she was the most modestly dressed of them all.
We were also noticed, and a significant number of eyes turned toward the two of us, while Bishop somehow managed to slip away unnoticed.
"You impertinent little brats," huffed the Colchian woman quite loudly. Judging by the sudden disappearance of attention, everyone heard her. Smart bunch. "Looks like I'm one of the first to arrive," she added, likely referring to the other great witches.
No words were required from me at the moment, so I silently examined the magical embroidery on the ancient witch's cloak. And there was certainly something to see... Even Medb dressed more simply, though her attire would still have caused an increase in saliva production for even Dumbledore.
"...Such a hurry is unusual for you, student of Asclepius," came a voice from somewhere behind me. It was so measured, so confident, and so chilling that, to be honest, I was afraid to turn around.
"You're intentionally trying to irritate me by mentioning long-gone gods?" Medea sneered, curling her lips in a contemptuous smile as she looked over my shoulder.
"Not at all, dear Medi," replied the stranger in an innocent tone so different from before that even I didn't believe her sincerity. As for my so-called teacher, she didn't seem to buy it at all.
"Mida, I'm not in the best of moods today. Don't test it, please," the witch sighed heavily, seemingly not at all angry at the diminutive use of her name. "Apprentice…" she added with some difficulty. "Allow me to introduce you to the unchanging head of the Babylonian Circle — Semiramis." Medea waved her hand, and I, summoning my courage, turned around, cautiously sizing up the person in question.
Oh... Her attire was anything but modest.
The dark-haired, golden-eyed woman with impressive charms, an outfit with exposed shoulders, and a fur collar also had long, pointed ears, likely the inspiration for the look of elves.
Her scrutinizing gaze swept over me with the precision of a futuristic scanner, and, judging by her expression, she was pleased with what she saw. Although I couldn't keep my face entirely composed, she gave me a welcoming nod.
"An interesting boy. And unlike some of the other apprentices of the great witches…" I glanced at Medea, noticing how she wrinkled her neatly pointed nose, barely visible under her hood. "He looks above the chest. But never mind, I'm glad you finally found an apprentice who meets your high standards."
"What, you're not even surprised that he's a boy and not a girl?" Medea replied in a friendlier tone, and I'd wager my wand that she even raised an eyebrow under her hood.
"A spinster like me has to differ somehow from these youngsters who aren't even half a millennium old, right?" Semiramis gave a slight shrug. She seemed to have been the queen of Babylon, Assyria... and something about gardens. I'd have to look up both mythology and the history of magic afterward. Judging by Medea's colleagues, she was very influential, which likely means she had left a mark on history. In theory, anyway.
"The only old maid among us is Yaga. So it would be best if you focused on organizing this foolish endeavor of yours, one I am forced to participate in because of you."
"Judging by what I see, your apprentice doesn't bother you much," Semiramis purred in a satisfied tone, and I couldn't help but think that this felt like a moment when a popular, sociable schoolgirl tries to draw out her gloomy, pessimistic childhood friend.
It was hard not to chuckle.
"You, boy." Not waiting for Medea to respond, the dark-haired woman turned her gaze to me. "Since your teacher didn't introduce you, introduce yourself."
"Adalbert, Lady Semiramis." Understanding that my family name would mean nothing to them, nor my lineage, I introduced myself respectfully by my first name alone.
"Oh, what a well-mannered apprentice you've found for yourself. I wasn't so lucky…" the golden-eyed woman sighed dramatically. "My little one isn't nearly as respectful, though she's fully aware of the situation."
"Haven't you heard what Yaga says? You should envy in silence," Medea said with obvious superiority in her voice. "Come on, apprentice, or else she'll linger here until the Gathering starts, and we'll have another quarrel with the others."
"Tsk." The sound reached my ears as I obediently followed Medea.
When we'd moved a respectful distance away, I sat down beside the witch and gave her an inquisitive look.
"Yes, I remember. Semiramis… Despite her openly provocative behavior, ingrained into her nature over long centuries — four of which she has already lived — she's one of the most level-headed great witches here. She was born and has resided in these parts since time immemorial and has become so fused with the local magic that even the departed gods wouldn't wish to fight her. Not the leaders of pantheons or the warlike ones — they're a different category — but still. Since the Babylonian Tower is essentially in her domain and most convenient for gatherings from around the world, she was chosen as head," Medea told me in detail, all in one breath but with perfect calm and composure. "If anyone here loses control, she's the only one guaranteed to bring them back to order. So if something begins that seriously worries you and, for some reason, I'm not around, stick close to her."
"Understood," I nodded seriously, taking her warning about potential trouble to heart. It made perfect sense — put a group of powerful women with not-so-gentle natures in one place, and… well, that's a volatile situation. "I believe I heard you mention someone named Yaga…"
"Yes… Now's as good a time as any to tell you about her, as you'll likely meet soon. She's from the same region where you study. Used to mingle with the Slavs, the ones who were acquainted with Byzantium. She's the only one here who actually looks her age. That's why I respect her more than most, even though she's considerably younger than both me and Semiramis." Medea paused for a moment, unusually chatty today. She genuinely seemed to want to keep me out of any trouble. "As long as you don't behave like some arrogant divine creature…" she went on, once again making her opinion on higher beings clear. "You'll get along just fine with her. She might even share a couple of techniques from the East European school of magic."
"That's clear, too." This sounded like one of the most, if not the most, famous figures from Russian folklore. The description matched almost perfectly.
"And now, I want a moment of relative quiet. If you wish, you can take a walk, but don't go far." She leaned back slightly against a short semblance of a backrest. The stone benches, I must say, didn't feel uncomfortable at all for some reason.
As for Her Highness's words…
I looked around, assessing the ladies gathered here.
Nope, I still need my mind and psyche intact, so I'll just sit quietly for now…
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