Lola Asina—Year 2018 AS
My steps were quick, following each other in the heavy rain.
"Damn it, Lola!" I cursed, throwing myself under a tree near the park where Sir Oscytel and I had sat down before.
Looking over at my right hand, carrying the clown bag and the remaining purse of coins, thinking about what I had done back in Magna Tempestas. A dream come true.
"I hate the rain! Always so disruptive."
And aside from the rain running a toll on me, I felt my skin chill in the cold air and the washing wind. The horses had left me in the rain; it was a shame that King Orinn would not let me stay in Magna Tempestas, even for a night. Am I asking for too much?
The alehouse I had gone to earlier in the week was still open, still hosting people. I had enough quietus to drink hundreds of goblets of Saevio. Once a thought to uphold, now the fool shall dream till day and night until the day of her cries are heard, alas.
I pushed open the doors of the alehouse; the radiance of frenzy, coming from the smell and voices, was all clear—the eyes of those who worship Death and demise—dragging their dreadful gazes for over eternity. Seating myself in the same spot I'd taken last time, I noticed the bartender had changed; she was a woman who looked no older than thirty with a very elegant figure and the face of every man's dream. She was tall, face smooth, lips soft and pink, long rose locks like silk, and eyes ginger—a long burn scar over her left eye that ran down to her cheek, the only flaw she had. She was no mere bartender but a woman who carried the nobility of a Great House, even if she wasn't of one or was.
The woman almost-like glided to me, her ginger eyes looking beyond the girl.
"What wouldst thou like to order, my lady?"
"'M-M-My lady'?!" I yipped, blushing. "I-I am not a h-highborne. P-Please, you don't have to call me that."
The barmaid chuckled lightly, her finger gently covering her mouth.
"You don't act like one for sure. Hmm, what's your name then?"
"I-I am Lola Asina." My voice came out like a whisper.
The woman knit her brows together, searching curiously.
"You have the hint of a powerful Awakened. Are you one?"
"I-I wouldn't count myself as a 'powerful' Awakened. B-But I am an Awakened."
She cokced her head,
"Why would thou? I sense good Will coming from ye. The same I felt when I met the Boy of Miracles, all the way back in Pearl Bay."
My eyes widened like a baby's first tears.
"What? Don't look at me like I am some kind of wraith. We are all—"
"Woman! Bring me another Pessum Premo!" A very fat man shouted, ordering the beautiful barmaid.
He was sitting across the alehouse, shouting and laughing with his three other fat buddies. The woman sighed wearily and raised a single finger, pressing it gently at the counter.
"Ah, all these drunken idiots," she muttered.
"Woman!" the fat man shouted again. "I said bring me another—"
He trailed off; everyone did—a large pink shockwave swept through the entire alehouse. The drunk and the rest of the man in the bar cringed, their bodies twisting, their faces blanched. A few men tried to move before they could be hit by the wave of aether, but to no avail. Twenty-seven men lay unconscious on the floor, all of their bottles of wine leaking. The stark white aethers in my grasp, all flickering violently, shading towards rose pink. Only the girl and the woman remained untouched by the shockwave, us. I stared at her with wide, awe-filled eyes. But she merely laughed, admiring the art she had just conducted.
"Don't worry, dear, they are all alive, probably."
She turned around, taking an entire bottle of Leto Divus from one of the many shelves.
"W-Who are you?!" The words left my mouth like a chant.
She easily opened the bottle with her thumb and sloshed the white wine down, drinking it with zest.
"Hah, I don't think you are properly educated, no? Not even the scar gave it away? The eyes and hair, even my body? House Theara is very confident in their looks."
"I… Y-You are of… H-How?!"
A solid sentence was impossible to form right now.
"W-Why would a member of the… one of the Sacred Great Houses work in a small alehouse like this?! W-Why are you even in Storm City?!"
"I heard a certain fool would make a show in Magna Tempstas. I flew over here from Pearl Bay City. King Orinn was kind enough to let me watch you." She hopped on the bar counter and leaned her head back, looking at me with a crotchet. "Thee shouldst be glad, I spend my entire morning flying to watch ye."
My eyes couldn't leave the burn scar on her face. "The burn scar," I thought. "She is Gisli of Great House Theara, the Rosefyre. The prime general who led the Assault on Lost City."
"T-Then why here now? H-How did you even hide yourself from all these men? A-And I don't remember seeing you during my performance."
She shrugged, sipping her wine.
"Don't fret that much. I watched from afar, with our grumpy guest, Fate's Masterpiece. Weird boy, not going to lie. But he has even prettier eyes than Lysander Lyncesta or any other member of House Lyncesta. But of course, our topic of conversation is not some outsider brat from another realm. It is you."
I ground my teeth; she still did not answer my questions. Glancing at my grimacing face, Lady Gisli sulked slightly.
"Hmph. Okay, fine, thou winneth. I may or may not have followed thee here, a rare sort of an Awakened thou art. I knew thou wouldst incur hereby."
She set the bottle of wine on her side, licking her lips to whisk the wine around her mouth.
"A-And what about your aetheric signature?"
"Aw, don't our dear fool know how to hide her tiny signature? That's how I followed you, fool. Hmm, maybe ye needs a lecture about her aether. But you seemeth great at fire affinity. Ascender, I assume, yes?"
I nodded with quite the uncertainty; her words were deceptive—and the history she shared with the Boy of Miracles was one to reckon with. My mama always told me stories about the boy who mastered Divinity and single-handedly ended the war between the Twelve Great Houses of Dream Realm. At the same time, the mere fool spent her time in the streets during the time of war, a funny contrast to Benjamin Grishem.
"Lola, hush yourself," I noted to myself. "All these strong people interacting with me one by one. I am not special."
"H-How did you hear about m-my p-performance? I-I am not sure the Fool of Aurum Dominus is that popular outside Storm City."
She tittered, eyes lowering dangerously. Lady Theara was a Converter, coming all the way from the waters of the Reach, or as its other name, Sylvaignis. I want to travel there sometime too; seeing Pearl Bay City and its flower garden firsthand is a dream come true.
Lady Gisli finally spoke, her voice a promise to a whisper, and taking the dreaming world with her:
"House Theara has many little birds around Storm City. There is a gala a month away—gathering most of the Sacred Great Houses. And my Lord Father wanted to make sure Royal House was amicable to their…" Her hand motioned the bar nebulously. "Guests. And we heard the Dream King took interest in a mere 'circus fool'.
"B-But, what does it have to do with me? H-How could a mere circus fool have a link to the Great Houses?"
She shifted her posture, her body leaning forward, hands meeting right below her mouth. This time, Rosefyre's ginger eyes did not wander; they were focused, gazing at all the drunken men lying knocked on the floor. The words left her in a cold inflexibility:
"When small men begin to cast big shadows, it means that the sun is about to set."
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. The fool she wanted, not Lola. Keeping the world of power in check, she wanted. Twelve Greatest Dynasties to ever dwell on this world and in front of them a fool. I opened my mouth to speak, to criticize her worldview. I wanted tı give her the pure stretch of what a fool really does, of what the fool really did all those years ago. All those fires gnawing inside me, blazing the felicitous heart of the girl who made a promise to herself. "N-No fool is happy, w-when she knows the worst, t-then to be happy in a f-fool's paradise, d-dance, she do," I said, almost killing myself for it.
Rosefyre's lips curved into a smirk, moving deliberately to praise the fool.
"Thee wilt be the one indeed. To be the second Awakened to master Divinity. Your flair to be one with aether is unmatched, and shall accomplish something not even the oldest of the Legia achieved."
Lady Gisli pushed herself from the counter, standing straight and powerful.
"I should be going now. It was nice speaking with you, Fool of Aurum Dominus. May Tarn weigh thy Will."
Aether answered her call as the woman suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving only aetheric motes hanging in her wake. I sat tightly, my eyes blinking repeatedly. The man around me soon began to stir; some even started to move their fingers. I looked at the wine bottle Lady Gisli had left behind. The thought crossed my mind several times. I smoothly grabbed the wine bottle, taking it to my mouth and letting my tongue wander the tasty liquid. If wines were flammable enough, these men would not be alive. I placed a single quietus on the bar counter and left the alehouse quietly, dropping the bottle of wine right before I walked out. The ironic place that led me to meet two powerful Converters.
Rain continued its reign on the cloudy skies of Storm City. Soon would snow take rain's place; the new year was nigh after all. And next to the splashing sounds of my steps were the words of the Rosefyre dancing in my ears. All these important people are coming and going and leaving me with only more questions to ponder. Lord Oscytel, the Gloam, King Orinn, and now Rosefyre, they all would lead me to something beyond the frenzy inside me. "But what about the fool?" I think. "What does the fool want?"
I arrived at Fire&Storm—the receptionist was sitting there, talking with what looked like a customer who wanted to spend the night like the fool. The customer was a short, young girl, barely reaching the receptionist's table, thirteen years of age, perhaps—with long brown hair that covered her eyes; her clothes were torn, and she was skinny, as skinny as a flying tooth, an Awakened Beast with large wings but a tiny, white body. The girl seemed to argue with the cold receptionist about the night's coldness, about her state.
"Look, brat, I can't simply let you skip the night if you don't have the money," the receptionist barked, her arms folded.
"P-P-Please, l-lady, I-I really need to. T-T-The rain doesn't stop."
"It is not my problem that you are homeless. Die, mug, cry, what do I care?!"
"L-Lady, I beg," the little girl cried, tears falling one by one, soon to stream down her face like the waters of the Ivory Waterfall.
"I-I shall pay for the girl," I blurted out, causing the two to look at me in surprise—the woman with exhaustion, the girl with hope.
Seeing the girl's expectant gaze made the fool remember, for a moment, how she danced the fire towards her little sister. The little girl joined her hands in front of her chest, and the tears dried out instantly.
"The willow of stone and dance, a trickster shall see the day before," I murmured as I walked closer to them.
Standing before the cold woman, I tried to look serious, the skinny girl beside me like a statue.
"H-How much is it?"
The woman sighed tiredly.
"Two quietus, thank you." She tapped her finger on the desk, her eyes unfocused.
I glanced at the girl once before placing four coins of quietus from my purse on the table. The young receptionist gladly took the coins, her hands moved underneath the table, and she took out two keys. One was again the number "0," and the other was "17". I took my original key and let the girl take the other.
"T-T-Thank you, miss," she flushed red, lowering herself to a courteous bow.
I gave the girl a small smile before taking the stairs, going into my room, and throwing myself on the bed. My soaking clothes immediately wetted the bed, leaving my skin drenched in the irritating water, with my bag and purse also on the bed, resting. I heard the sound of a door opening and then closing; the little must have found her room. Tonight, I wished there would be no Gloam, no nightmares, only a short nap for the fool. My eyes watched the city through the big window; the Crimson Moon was glimpsing through the rain, its scarlet light emitting into the world. It was beautiful to watch the rain fall, to see the red creep through like a silent prayer to my laments. At least the girl wanted to believe so; the fool would never.
Whilst the fool's only faith was her audience and her only companion, aether. "Aether", I whispered. The stark white particles damned the world, four worlds, even—People of Death, People of Life, People of Time, and People of Destruction. All blessed by aether's grace. I really wonder what Fate's Masterpiece is doing. How does he feel, knowing he is so far from his home? Does he cry when he's alone? Does he eat enough or sleep enough? And what will King Orinn choose to accomplish with the poor boy? What does Rosefyre want? Lord Oscytel wants? All those people saw a different side of the realm. And yet, I can't help but think they're wrong. Not the girl, the fool. Will I really master something not even the Dream King himself failed to achieve? And when will the time come for me to use that very same spell? And I can't stop thinking, "Will I be enough?"