18Mellifluence: I'm Jade.
Promiscuous Geek: This is Audrey. Watch out!
...Let the chaos begin.
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13 September 946 H.E.
Royal Palace, Aylesbury
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Dear Audrey,
No, your eyes are not deceiving you, and I, as you know, do not lie (...except, of course, when I do). I am indeed at the Palace in Aylesbury, and have, in the course of 48 hours, come a hair's width from being attacked, single-handedly set fire to the Market Square, and apprenticed (read: sold into slavery) to Archmage Ellios, Lord of Lancaster and the singularly most infuriating man I have ever had the misfortune to meet.
But perhaps I should start at the beginning.
After you heartlessly abandoned your oldest and dearest friend for the thrills and excitement of Port Orsten, she languished so terribly that her doting father had no choice but to take her along to Aylesbury's Autumn Festival, in hopes of lifting her despondent spirits. Mama, as I'm sure you guessed, was none-too-pleased with the decision, but, and I quote: "oh, anything to stop your insistent whining!" (Which, I must say, was most galling. Dee, you know that I do not whine – I merely critique. …Insistently.)
So Papa and I departed with the wagons on the eve of August, and arrived at the capitol some ten days later. The journey was rather uneventful, except for my rather futile attempts to convince Papa to let me keep one of the silks from his latest shipment (oh Dee, the colour was divine! And the weave! Clearly a warp begun with two thousand threads at least! …Not that you, swordsmith's daughter, are one to appreciate the ascetic value of quality silk.)
But I digress.
Where was I? Oh yes, arriving at the capitol. Well, I don't know about you, but I must admit that the sheer number of people living in such large cities never fails to startle me. Aylesbury during the Autumn Festival? Nothing short of chaos.
But, oh, what energy! Market Square was rife with it, as Papa and I set up our stall. The area was a haphazard muddle of merchant booths, eateries, golden lanterns and boisterous people. I was positively dying to escape and explore, but Papa flatly refused to let me out of his sight, for he, of course, had to attend to our wares. So naturally, for the next few hours, I became so charming an assistant (to the extent of even selling away that silk piece I'd most desperately desired!), that Papa could hardly refuse to let me wander for "just a few minutes – but don't tell your mother".
Dee, I swear I tried my very hardest not to get lost, I really did! I honestly didn't mean to take the wrong turn, but you know how I am with directions – and trust your awful luck to rub off on me precisely in the very worst of situations. It may sound like a scene from one of those illicit novels our mothers forbad us to read (as if that would deter us), but trust me, being cornered by a group of drunken louts is nowhere near as swashbuckling romantic as the authors had made us believe. I'm sure you can imagine how terrified I was, and if I were (heaven forbid!) the fainting type… well, I don't even want to consider the consequences of that!
Nevertheless, as I am alive and more-or-less well and penning this lengthy letter to you now, I obviously did not there reach my sad and sorry end. Everything happened so quickly that I'm still half-convinced it were all a dream – as one moment I was shrieking bloody murder (not that it was heard above all the noise), and the next the drunkards (along with half of Market Square) was in blazes.
Audrey, the range of destruction was hellish! So, although it kills me to admit it, I'm glad that he happened to be there – or my family would surely have been reduced to paying damages for generations to come! (His drenching of my lovely crème gown in that torrent of summoned water was, however, entirely uncalled for.)
You will be amazed at the amount of fear that man can instill on his own. From the instant the water dropped and quenched the flames, Market Square chaos turned to a silence so still that I actually heard a pin drop. (…On second thoughts, it probably was a pole.) There was no doubt in anyone's mind of who this man was, even if (like me) they'd never seen either head or tail of him in their entire life. Lord Lancaster needs no herald – heavens, he may as well have been wearing a sign proclaiming loud and clear: 'Danger! I am the Dread Archmage Ellios. Proceed at own peril.'
Well, if I'd known of his intentions, I most certainly would not have stupidly stood there looking the drowned rat. Running for dear life would've have been a far more prudent decision. But alas! How was I to know?
"Come with me," he ordered, striding towards me with the darkest of glares. Allowing no time for me to respond (let alone give my consent), he – a veritable stranger – had grabbed my wrist to yank me down the street like some common dog on a leash! Can you believe the nerve?!
"Unhand me, you cur!" demanded the utterly outraged I, but I may as well have been yelling at a wall, for all the use it was. "Fine! If you insist on kidnap, I should at least be notified of the destination."
"Be silent, girl," he answered frostily, as he unceremoniously shoved me into a carriage. "We are heading to the Palace."
"But my father-"
"Will be notified." and slammed the door shut.
I would like to say that gentleman's (likely non-existent) manners finally made an appearance when we reached the Palace, but sadly, that was not the case. Without allowing me to dry off my wet things – indeed, without time to even take a cursory glance around me (it was the Palace after all!) – I was (again) yanked through the corridors and thrown into a room, as the door was ominously slammed shut.
"Sit," he said, his contemptuous tone giving me no choice in the matter. Well, perhaps it was the many years under your reckless influence, or perhaps the previous events of the evening had addled my brain, but somehow I remained standing as a matter of principle – and Dee, it took more courage than you know. Lancaster is terror personified.
The rebellious action hardly endeared me to the already irate man. "Irresponsible or reckless use of dangerous magics is a criminal offence under Crown law," he snarled. "Give me one good reason, girl, why I should not hand you immediately over to my Lord Provost."
Well, Audrey, you know better than anyone that the more upset I get, the more my mouth will run. And frankly, by this point, I was beyond upset – I was verging hysterical. "One good reason? I have a list! Firstly, I have no idea how it happened – I am completely ignorant and innocent of the matter. Secondly, even if it were me, it was an act of self-defense – perhaps you should be interrogating my would-be rapists instead! Thirdly, Dee and I were Tested when we were little and neither of us has a drop of Power in us, so it would be altogether impossible for me to magically light a candle, let alone burn down Market Square! And fourthly… fourthly, well, you simply cannot send me to the Provost. My mother would kill me."
Despite my impassioned outburst, Lancaster didn't speak for a very long time. I waited, impatient, my heart in my throat. What was to be done to me?
Abruptly, he turned, and in the same tense and dangerously graceful movements, paced to the window, his back towards me. "A Seer discovered no traces of the Power?"
"No."
His laugh was tinged with irony. "Girl, the amount of dormant Power in you is – as much as it pains me to say – well nigh equal to mine."
I gaped at him. "I beg your pardon?!"
Lancaster ignored me. "Very well, it cannot be helped. The unpleasant task of tutoring must fall with me. This will be your living quarters, until your training has ended. You will awake when the dawn bell tolls, and come to my workroom after breakfast. The time I tutor you will vary depending on the amount of time I have to spare but you are expected to finish your assigned tasks before the next day. I bear no responsibility for your actions, and your well-being is not of my concern. We begin tomorrow."
And just like that, with no time to ask or to protest this new state of affairs, he was gone.
I had been dismissed.
I'm frightened, Dee. What have I done to make the Fates conspire against me thus?! Papa must be so worried, and I still don't know what exactly has happened to me. How can I, an ordinary Yang girl from Shorehaven, have enough Power to rival the Archmage?
One thing is certain – I've never missed our dull and adventureless seaside home as much as I miss it now.
I hope you are faring much better than I.
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Your very terrified,
Jade
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