Fantasy Cinders and Ashes (Completed)

[Ezri]

Once again Vivian was eternally grateful for Bruno’s presence. Trying to plan each detail of the event would have been a nightmare, and he would probably do a better job of organizing than she would anyway. He had seen more parties in this house than anyone, surely.

She should show off a little, she supposed; it wouldn’t do to look too drab at her own party. It was a delicate balance, and the last thing she wanted to do was cross the line into ostentatiousness. In the end she decided on something classic and flattering, punctuated with just the right amount of jewelry. There was a lot to be said about an understated sort of elegance, she thought.

 

[ArcticFox]

The intellectual elite of Prosper arrive variously, some in carriages and dog-carts, others on foot or horseback. They are clad mostly in elegant, though sometimes eccentric fashions, dinner jackets in muted colours, high-collared gowns and shirts, skirts with sharp-cut trains or ruffles. This was sometimes the sort of company that your guardian would host, on those rare occasions that they did organise events. Vague memories of the chink of glasses and earnest discourse drift back to your mind.

You greet them and send them into the drawing room to begin with. Once everyone has arrived, you go to the dining room, where refreshments are laid out. Quite a transformation has been wrought on the dusty furnishings - the room now speaks of grandeur and elegance, rather than sorrow and neglect.

The subject on many people's lips, now that everyone has arrived and comfortably engaged in conversation, is the fate of Melantho Farrier. You catch edges of the news as you pass through the room.

"…disappeared, the whole Farrier house in disarray, from what I hear - though, of course, I have not been there myself, since the whole family is so far on the way to being Marked…"

"-I heard that the misguided creature attempted to revive one of the Fallen!-"

"Rode all the way to Nine Mile in a dog-cart with the - er - former member of our company in tow, just to see if the enchantment wore off by distance."

It seems that, whatever else her endeavours, Miss Farrier has not left off her rebellious ways, but the arrival of other guests takes your mind off it.

Wren Grufford is here, dashing in a sleek coat and elegantly tied cravat. He grins, sideways at you, and bows over your hand. "Good evening," he says warmly, "I am glad of the invitation. I would not have missed this for the world."

The other guests soon call your attention, but, throughout the evening, you are aware of Wren's presence at the edges, warm and cunning.

- Start the musical entertainment.
- Ask around about the demon activities.
- Be sociable with your guests.
- Something else.

 

[Ezri]

So far the party seemed to be going off without a hitch, and Vivian was now privy to some rather interesting gossip. Whether the rumors about Melantho were completely true or not was up for debate, but she was involved with woodland business... perhaps she was conducting experiments of her own, for her own sake or for the Fae. Although Vivian had her doubts about the rest of her family’s involvement...

Well, for the time being there was no way to know. She had more pressing matters to concern herself with; Wren’s unique brand of exaggerated enthusiasm was encouraging, but also made her a bit self-conscious. For now she should mingle, have a little chat here and there with everyone until they all settled into a comfortable mood.

 

[ArcticFox]

You walk around and greet your guests, dipping in and out of conversations. Wherever you walk, jovial conversation and laughter follow. You are pleased to give cheer where you can, and you are genuinely delighted to see your guests enjoying themselves. This is a gathering worthy of your guardian's house.

- Start the musical entertainment.
- Ask around about the demon activities.
- Be sociable with your guests.
- Something else.

 

[Ezri]

Perfect. Despite all of her troubles and plans, seeing the house so lively filled her with a sort of warm satisfaction that she hadn’t been expecting. Maybe it was because she’d been careful about who she invited, and so she wasn’t so worried about bumbling her way into some sort of scandal. At least for the moment, demons were now the furthest thing from her mind.

It seemed like the right time for the music to start, and she hummed to herself as she left to give the cue. Dancing tended to keep everyone quite occupied, and she was in the mood for it herself.

 

[ArcticFox]

A space is cleared for dancing. Bruno has dug up several old instruments from your guardian's store cupboards somewhere, and put them in playing condition. Soon, you have an impromptu trio playing in no time. It is not the highest of art music, but perfectly suitable for a gathering such as this. Dancers spin and turn in time to your music, and spirits are high.

Rowan accosts you at the sideboard.

"You are acting very strangely this evening," he hisses to you under his breath. "Is something wrong?"

Typical of him, this blend of kindness and absolute disregard for the rules governing polite communication. You meet his gaze and realise that he won't accept a weak reply.

- Share your concerns about demons.
- Share your concerns about Fae.
- Deflect.
- Convince him everything's fine.

 

[Ezri]

Vivian was pleased with herself; her party, if modest, was going well. But Rowan’s accusation ripped her out of her reverie as instantly as if she’d been splashed with ice water. She wasn’t normally so fussed with these sorts of events, and he must have known that... but he didn’t have to point it out.

“Am I?” She asked innocently, but one look at his face told her that he wouldn’t be satisfied with that. She sighed and lowered her voice, which was thankfully covered by the music as well.

“I know everyone seems to ignore it, and I’m sure they have their reasons,” she started; she hadn’t spoken so frankly with Rowan since she arrived back in Cinders, but now that he was pushing she felt she couldn’t continue avoiding it. Once he started on something he tended not to back down.“But since I came back, I’ve been unable to accept what they did to this city and everyone in it. I’m just trying to keep my mind off it, for a day at least.”

 

[ArcticFox]

"I know, Viv, but we shouldn't speak about it openly," he says, averting his gaze. "Perhaps when the others leave..."

He gives you a wink, then turns and walks off to rejoin the group.

A moment later you run into your solicitor in the press of the crowd. He greets you with a solemn nod, his already melancholic disposition seems to be turning even more and more towards the morose.

"It is good to see this place alive," he comments. He looks around and lowers his already quiet voice even further. "I spoke with Mr. Grufford - he indicated to me that you may be pursuing some sort of…alternative scheme?"

- Agree.
- Disagree.
- Say you haven't decided.

 

[Ezri]

Vivian straightened up and returned to her guests, trying to regain the energy she’d had before Rowan interrupted her. Not that she was angry with him— it was a little reassuring, knowing that someone might willingly discuss such taboo things with her— but she did still have a party to to attend to. It seemed like everyone was enjoying themselves, aside from her solicitor.

“Oh—“ she said; she hadn’t expected Mr. Grufford to persist to mention it to anyone else. She offered a slightly apologetic look. “Yes, that... avenue was explained to me. But I don’t think I’ll be pursuing it after all.”

 

[ArcticFox]

Grufford's eyes go sideways, and he looks acutely uncomfortable. "Well well, well well," he says nervously.

Holwood smiles, seemingly relieved. "Very well, that is good to know. We shall continue to work towards your goal to the utmost of our abilities, with your cooperation. I thank you." He gives a slight bow.

Alcindor stands in a corner, painfully correct. You catch his eye. The youngest Wakeforth admittedly looks pained in such formal company, albeit politely covering any boredom.

- Invite Alcindor to dance.
- Show Alcindor the art collection.
- Return to the main party.

 

[Ezri]

The look on Grufford’s face was more satisfying to Vivian than perhaps it should have been, and she gave Holwood a nod before turning in search of an escape route. The last thing she wanted was to dwell on this subject; no, she needed to busy herself with something else.

Poor Alcindor— it was gracious of him to come, but it was clear that he still didn’t feel comfortable with these formalities. It was hard to blame him.

“Alcindor,” Vivian greeted him cheerfully, hoping to ease some of the tension. She could easily think of something that might cheer him up; it wasn’t what she expected to be doing, but she felt a bit bad, leaving him in that state... “It might not compare to a museum collection, but I do have a few paintings I could show you, if you like.”

 

[ArcticFox]

Alcindor looks grateful for the chance to speak of something besides small talk. "Indeed! I have been admiring the paintings in your front hall. They are very good work. I should like nothing better, thank you!"

You cannot be absent long from your other guests, and yet, this is the perfect opportunity to get some air, and to spend time with Alcindor. You steal away to the upper hall.

Alcindor spends a few moments studying the portraits and landscapes in detail. Some are older than Cinders, others, quite new. There is a delicate portrait of your guardian closest to the door - it did not quite capture all their features, but certainly holds something of their mood. And certain details are exact to life: the sober, thoughtful expression that was their wont, the wistful slant of the eyebrows, all in sweeping brush-stroke.

Alcindor appraises this portrait longer than the others, and nods slightly to you, acknowledging your loss. There is no need for words, and silence pays greater respect than obligatory sentences would at this moment.

Towards the other end of the hall, there is a series of canal paintings, in dreamy colors, all muted blues and soft limestone-tans. "This is exquisite," Alcindor says, studying it. "I thank you."

It is time to return to the party, but there is a newfound closeness between you two, which is quite beyond the conspiratorial knowledge of your excursion.

- Return to talking with other guests.
- Spend more time with Alcindor.
- Ask about demon activities.

 

[Ezri]

It had been so long since they last spoke — or maybe it wasn’t that long, and it just felt that way— but Vivian had almost forgotten how calming a presence Alcindor was. Compared to their peers, it was refreshing to speak with someone so earnest, even if he was only really earnest about one thing.

The paintings had put her into a softer mood; she didn’t often spend the time to look at them so closely, and now returning to the chatty atmosphere of the party was a bit jarring. And even she’d grown tired of all the the small talk by now... where’d Wren run off to?

 

[ArcticFox]

You walk around and greet your guests, dipping in and out of conversations. Wherever you walk, jovial conversation and laughter follow. You are pleased to give cheer where you can, and you are genuinely delighted to see your guests enjoying themselves. This is a gathering worthy of your guardian's house.

"Well, good evening, miss Price." You are greeted with the sight of Wren, holding a glass of wine, moving away from his group of friends to intercept your advance through the crowd. "I must say that I'm enjoying your party. You have good taste." He smiled widely, quite different from his usual serious demeanour.

- Answer.

 

[Ezri]

Vivian was sure, at least, that no one could have any complaints about what she’d done here despite her relatively modest resources. There was a sort of safety in that feeling. She would have to thank Bruno again once everyone went home.

“Good evening.” she smiled back at Wren; he looked just as pleased as he had when he arrived, which was a good sign. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. “Although I wondered if you might be bored with this sort of... mundane event.”

 

[ArcticFox]

"Mundane isn't necessarily bad." Wren says, "Or did you think that all I do is something related to... philosophy?" He doesn't wait for you to answer, though, but instead steps slightly closer than appropriate, "I hope that we can meet in private, sometime in near future." With those words, he departs, to let the other guests enjoy your attention for a little while.

You hear many of them enthusing about your hospitality. You receive many compliments and genuine expressions of delight from those saying their goodbyes. Likely, you will soon be the talk of the town, and receive many invitations to call.

The house has weathered the party fairly well, there are certainly drink-stains on the tablecloths and spilled pastries here and there, but no principal damage, which seems a mark of success. The tables and chairs must be put to rights, however.

Rowan is one of the last guests to leave. He touches one of the misplaced tables and levels you with a pointed glance. "Thank you, Vivian. I enjoyed that. Would you like some help?" he says. "It is difficult, when one is alone, to put a place to rights."

Is there some deeper meaning in his words?

- Certainly, and you enjoy it.
- He is just being kind.
- Certainly, and you don't like it.
- You are not sure.

 

[Ezri]

The party was even more successful than Vivian had hoped for, and as the guests trailed out she was filled with a sense of pride. Beyond the simple satisfaction of entertaining a group of people, she’d given her reputation some sorely-needed bolstering. Eat your heart out, Jocasta. Her main goal was still to deal with the demons, but keeping a good standing in the public eye should make that easy.

Speaking of the demons, Rowan had agreed to discuss it with her and so had stuck around. Although Vivian wasn’t sure exactly what he was implying, now— she could guess, but it was probably in his best interests that she did not. He probably meant well enough, judgements aside... she just playfully rolled her eyes at him and hoisted up a chair. “I’m sure I could handle it. But as long as you’re staying, you might as well help a little.”

 

[ArcticFox]

You and Rowan work together to clear away the furniture and put the place to rights. He doesn't speak of the demons, but then again, no one but Wren was ever eager to mention the topic openly.

Perhaps it is your imagination, but sometimes his eyes linger upon you, and sometimes he brushes too close for politeness. His skin is warm.

How do you respond?

- Move away.
- Explain that you are just friends.
- You would like to see where it goes.

 

[Ezri]

Maybe Vivian should have considered this possibility more than she had; Rowan had always spoken about his marriage quite casually, and since it was a political marriage it made sense that he might seek more intimate feelings elsewhere. Logically this all followed, but she hadn’t considered that he would attempt such a thing with her.

She skirted away from him when he pushed a little too close, almost theatrically giving her tasks her full attention. He was just a friend, as far as she was concerned— hopefully he could take her hint and abandon his intentions gracefully.

 

[ArcticFox]

He smiles, but accepts your wordless admonishment with equanimity. You both work in companionable silence until the house looks, more or less, as it did before your party, but now it is… warmer. Brighter. As though it holds not the ghosts of loss and neglect but some happier memories of the living.

"It is good to see you again, Vivian. We - I - am very happy that you have come back to Cinders." Rowan tells you as he leaves.

After all the company has left, the house is very quiet. Somewhere, you can sense Bruno moving about, doing his customary nighttime lock-up.

--

Morning slips through your window, soft as the barest touch of silk. Your mind rings with the memory of the daemon Malachite's gaze - weird, disjointed fragments of speech drift through your mind. There are more pieces here to be connected, that is certain.

Another thought hits you then: Danaer. You made a promise.

There is much to do, and little time. You must speak with those responsible, and with those who have authority in town. They may help untangle this mess, if your words alone cannot suffice. Perhaps Lady Eugenie or Col. Ayax can lend their considerable influence to the matter.

You rise, and prepare for the day. There are a great many things set in motion, and the sinking sensation in your stomach tells you that there is no way to control or even see all of them.

As you go outside, a wave of information, as strong as a voice shouting in your ear, rolls through you. You stagger. It is as strong as the ringing of many bells. You clamp your hands over your ears, and yet the sensation remains, relentless - there is no physical sound, this is something hitting you from within.

After a moment, it passes. You look around. There is no one present - and yet, now, the green spines hooking into your chest, those are of the Wood.

The tree closest to you was giving you this information - you walk towards it, and the sensation of being hooked like a fish on a line diminishes - you pause, and it grows stronger.

The heaviness in the air speaks of finality - perhaps, once this task is completed, your bargain will be won.

- Do it eagerly.
- Do it honourably.
- Do it quickly.

 

[Ezri]

All things considered, Vivian still had no idea how she was going to get Danaer out of his arranged marriage. There wasn’t much she could do without information, and even once she came up with convincing argument — whether it was by proving his bride to be as awful as he thought she was, or by some other method — doing the convincing might be another story. It wouldn’t be easy, but a promise was a promise.

As if to remind her very clearly of the weight of promises the Wood interrupted her. Like before she was simply drawn to it, moving towards the tree before she even realized she was doing so, but that hint in the air gave her hope. She wouldn’t resist it this time; this time she would get her task over and done with as efficiently as she could, with the hope that she could finally rid herself of this tether. Until then, Danaer’s escape plan would have to wait.

 

[ArcticFox]

You race to perform the task, making a competition of how quickly you can get through it. The time is past for resistance - the only question is how soon you can be rid of this debt forever. Evidently, the Wood likes your enthusiasm, for its dragging subsides into playful tugs that propel you forward.

This task comes upon you fully-formed, you can feel it from the start. It is no impulse to take something somewhere, nor is it a compulsion to break into a building, but a tingling, arising in your feet and moving up your body, soon forces you to walk a few paces west. Then the movement hooks you in a different direction, and you begin to understand. Then back again to your initial position.

You are creating a sigil.

Every time you try to look at it, a burst of light imposes itself behind your eyes, you will not, it seems, be allowed to see what it is you are making. The tree causes you to walk, making great loops in strange patterns around the trees on your property. Soon, you are outside your property, in the unmarked lands outside of Cinders, still walking in a strange pattern that you know, in your gut, has to be a magic working. If only you knew what its purpose was.

And, just like that, it is done.

The weight of the bargain lifts instantaneously - you stand up straighter, your eyes and mind are clearer. You have finished the tasks that were your debt. Relief hits you, dizzying, as you feel your own mind, your own thoughts come back. You are free, after a fashion. A wave of extra energy, restorative, sweeps over you, and suddenly, the tiredness behind your eyes and even the small aches in your spine have slipped away. You have received a healing from this process, too. The bargain is fulfilled - your part in this, at least, is ended.

You return home, exhilarated and energized.

Over breakfast, you notice that Bruno looks different, a little bit anxious, and it seems like he wants to say something, but then stops himself in the middle of it.

- Ask him about it.
- Leave it alone.
- Try to pry it out by speaking about something else.

 

[Ezri]

That was it— she was done. The purpose of her task wasn’t something she understood, but she had never been privy to the motivations of her keepers. But right now, just for this bright, victorious moment, it didn’t matter. No more struggling with the Wood, no more late night walks she didn’t remember. Things were looking up.

It was very unusual to see Bruno in a state other than well-practiced politeness. Although she thought they were on good terms, relative to their positions, he was always a stoic man. Vivian sipped at her tea; what could be bothering him? She hoped it was nothing to do with her more weird activities, at least...

“Bruno?” Vivian asked, making a point not to sound authoritative. Whatever it was, she hoped he would trust her enough just to say. “I don’t mean to pry, but is everything all right?”

 

[ArcticFox]

He looks at you for a moment, and then his shoulders slump. "I cannot pretend that I have felt wholly at ease this season," he murmurs.

Bruno takes a moment to compose himself, and then speaks measuredly. "I do not know all that Mssr. Price knew something more about the situation here, but, of course, he rarely confided in me. But I do believe that more information could be found in the council library - that is where they keep all the important documents, from the Founding of Cinders until now. And I think that Mssr. Price frequented it often in his final days."

- Investigate the library.
- Ask something more.
- Don't go.

 

[Ezri]

However brief or small the glimpse into Bruno’s inner workings was, Vivian appreciated it. He must have seen much more of the ramifications of the demon’s rule, and with no one to speak about it with he might feel very alone in his discomfort. She could certainly empathize. “I confess, I haven’t felt terribly at ease either.” she said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“But thank you for telling me.” She said, nodding to herself. Maybe there was something in those council records that could give her some hint as to how this began, or how to stop it. Her guardian must have gone there for a reason, after all. “Perhaps I should visit the library myself.”