The Urien Room

“Ayne.” Dad said, “Be honest with us, now. What is my daughter’s potential for magecraft?”
Ayne looked up with a blank expression, “She has no potential.”
Dad’s knuckles cracked.
“Ayne,” said a woman in an accent too pretty and toffy to be local, “I will have you relieved of your brains if you decide to lie to the men and women who allow for the studious mage lifestyle and paid for the mages of Emmerlain to enjoy such luxurious study.”
Chimi squinted at the woman.
Dad crossed his arms, “What’s this, Ayne’s been deposed?”
“For this specific reason,” said the unfamiliar woman as she emerged from the door to the right, where books were being copied. She looked bloody noble, rich ginger locks of hair, full lips. Her dark blue eyes found Chimi, and a knowing smile crept across her lips.
“Eleanor, this is unnecessary, this girl—“
“Will surely eclipse all of us, it is necessary.” Eleanor said, “This is war, Ayne, and we must use every able body to win. Is that right, Commander Angus, Egeon?”
“When did you arrive here, mage?” Poole asked.
“I arrived quietly a few days ago during a deployment in one of the merchant caravans.” She said prettily, “I’m from Shawstow, Umbrae Pales.”
Dad took a step forward, and she gestured to Ayne. The disgruntled but thoroughly cowed woman lifted it for them to pass. Eleanor opened the back door and led them into a large library. Eleanor pulled a few books in an odd sequence for the bookshelf to slide away.
“A show of what our Bindings of objects are capable of on a small, efficient scale with engineers from the east.” She gestured for them to follow her into a small concourse filled with mages whose eyes flicked from books to Egeon, to Dad, to Poole, to Chimi, then back.
Dad sighed through his nostrils, a sign he couldn’t be bothered to deal with this lot except for making them run laps.
Egeon slammed his hands together, “Up you fuckin’ fairies!” he roared.
Eleanor had already stepped aside with an expectant look on her face.
The mages glared at her, then at him.
“I’d like to remind you all,” Eleanor said gently, “These men before you are the reason for our leisure, and the mages who are no longer here because they cannot stand this way of living with pretensions afforded by deeds.”
They rose to their feet and gave mock salutes.
Poole marched to the middle of the room and demonstrated how to salute.
Egeon arched an eyebrow as Eleanor copied his gesture. The rest of the mages fixed up their salutes upon seeing her. Eleanor got down on one knee before Dad, her eyes fixed on Chimi, and she took out a circlet and presented it.
“The mage tower of Emmerlaine swears fealty to the family of Angus and all those that will come after him.” Her eyes, lidded, mischievous dark blues still focused on Chimi. She whispered, “The girl has extreme potency for mana.”
Dad sniffed and looked to Egeon. They shared a look for a moment, and he took the circlet and placed it on Chimi’s head, “We know what you’re after. If submission to my daughter is what you seek, you’ll also enlighten us as to what Ravalel meant.”
“As is my intention, as best as I am able, commander.” She rose to her feet and inclined her head, “However, I am afraid we must head further east to attain certainty.”
“Enough of that.” Egeon said, “Let’s get a bloody move on.”
Eleanor led them upstairs to the top floor into a dark room where she halted them at the door. The woman took out a bound stone and shot small orbs of fire out at every candle in the room with a Saint’s precision. She turned and beckoned them to enter with a satisfaction in her smile.
The room layout was simple: more bookshelves, a large stone bed, and a round table with four chairs. The bed was engraved with star constellations all over, from the hookbill to the sun dogs. Egeon did a full round of the room.
“Commander Angus,” Eleanor said politely, “I’d like to inform you that I have found other mages and brought them with me to form a different mage cadre than what you are used to, but first, a present.” She snapped her fingers.
Chimi wished she had brought a weapon with her, but Dad was completely relaxed, so she decided she could also relax. The door opened, and a young man about her age popped his head in.
“Yes?- Father? Welcome to The Urien Room.” He said with peremptory manners.
“Deepe?” Egeon and Poole seemed confused.
“The lad’s learned some bloody manners.” Poole said, “Well done, Eleanor.” He barked a laugh.
“Perhaps you should remarry.” Dad nodded approvingly.
Eleanor gently cleared her throat, “I’ve been raising Deepe to be my successor, and succeeded he has. He will surpass me within a year.”
The men each shared nods. Chimi wondered what they thought, Eleanor was certainly an outsider, but not too far out, like the merchants say about getting along if the fighting would stop. War and Everwinter, the only certainties in life, the fighting never stops. Looking at her father and the other two men again, they were confirming something they already suspected.
“What kind of cadre?” Dad finally asked.
“Killers.” She said, “Mages who go to the battlefield within platoons, sections and batteries strictly to amplify the effectiveness of the unit.”
“And these planky fairies can be grafted into that?” Egeon said with crossed arms, but he sounded excited.
“Yes.” Eleanor took a seat by the large stone bed. “These mages have become too complacent, their minds float among the clouds while their bodies remain pristine from heated baths, and they abhor the battlefield beyond staying back at the guard and flinging artful spells to compete with Asheluna. They are substandard, inadequate fools who don’t understand that they are here to win.”
Eleanor gestured for Deepe to leave, “Deal with anyone who attempts to eavesdrop.”
“Yes.” He nodded, saluted and left in silence.
Poole had a proud smirk on his thin lips.
“Wise,” Dad said.
“I appreciate the compliment, commander.” She gestured to the bed, “If you would kindly lie on the bed…?”
“Chimi,” Chimi said.
She arched an eyebrow, “A very unusual name, why, Chimi?”
Chimi glanced back at her father.
Dad seated himself to Eleanor’s right, “When Chimi was born, the name Chimi was given to her mother by what she claims was Ygriar under a pale tree. No mage here has bothered to tell us what it means.”
“I fear we would have to go to Asheluna to uncover that with their Divine Tree.” Eleanor said, “Thank you for telling me.”
“Mhm,” Dad said.
“I have heard you haven’t had a Starforged child born in a decade in Emmerlaine,” her eyes narrowed, “And your daughter supposedly broke a prophecy with her birth, but what I can certainly tell you and you may travel to Asheluna to confirm or consult with a travel ling mage if you come by one is that: Ravalel does not serve any god that we know of.”
“We do know that.” Chimi and Dad said at the same time.
“Most village folk I’ve observed and heard of, including the mages here, are too blind and daft yet do not use their eyes to observe your white as snow hair, what lies between and lurks within your soul that none have yet perceived?”
Dad gestured for her to rest on the bed, “Before she woos Egeon over with her poetry.”
“I’m enjoying myself.” Egeon replied, “She’s got lots of honey on that tongue.”
“And more, but unfortunately, my dear Egeon, you’re not a book nor are you a spell, and low-saccharine is not very succulent.”
“Sorry, fella, I think you just got rejection cast on ya.” Poole cracked a smirk.
Egeon snickered, “Bastard.”
Chimi set herself down on the bed and found herself scowling at Eleanor’s too-fat full chest. She placed the spiteful thoughts aside. Dad is watching.
The intricacies of Eleanor’s silken dress that showed too much bloody cleavage were likely equally for men as it was for women among these toffs and pretend royals with their games.
Eleanor placed both hands on the side of the bed, and Chimi felt it start to hum as Eleanor quietly chanted some words just below what she could hear. Chimi felt more sensations as time went on, cold water, icy rain, she saw stars wheel across the sky, and bright lights fall to the ground. The Dreaming Star bloomed, and gusts of wind carried shimmering stardust that gathered into fogs.
Eleanor cleared her throat, “We must take you to the mages of Umbrae, the Memoria starchained must observe you for your unusual connection to Cae’s Expanse.”
“Cae’s Expanse?” Chimi sat up.
“The sea of stars, child.” She said softly, “If you want my opinion on those matters, you have no potential for Eirsilus or very little, as for your connection to the stars, I simply cannot tell. What I try to look I see blinding lights.”
She pursed her lips and continued speaking, “I’ve a well-practiced Medicus I’ve recently dispatched to the military, I’d like you to keep her with Chimi if you’d allow me to impose, she’s seen blood and has operated with you before, but now she is certainly better.”
“For someone who arrived yesterday, you’ve got the grip of a general on this place.” Dad said, “Very well done.”
“One must move as a trickster in political maneuverers, no?”
Chimi resisted the urge to glare at this woman and stood up and went to stand by her father.
“I reckon.” He replied, “Who’s the med?
“Come in!”
She must’ve arranged this with Deepe before, so everything was just for a show of power… She wasn’t fond of this woman, but to become an empress. Chimi fixed her with a flat stare that Eleanor returned with a smirk as if she knew what Chimi had realized. Yes indeed. Now what in Aetia’s realms do you want?
Chimi was surprised to see Ishi step into the room dressed in the standard soldier’s uniform with a crest of red painted on her helmet. They smiled at each other before they returned to flat expressions as the attention returned to Eleanor.
“Poetic.” Poole said, “What do you want?”
“I am but a humble leader of this house of The Craft,” she said, “Here on business from Umbrae to curry favour with the child of unknown prophecy, who may be Rasu Reborn.” She gestured to Chimi.
Dad stared at her with no expression.
Eleanor held his gaze with all seriousness.
“Ridiculous.” Egeon said, “The last thing we need is something that could be viewed as a divine weapon by the other nations.”
“I travelled here to Emmerlaine to look for solutions. I met Ishi and Asher, who are gifted in their own ways more so than the others I met in Odibrand, Almeira and Crystolle.” She said, “But something felt lacking, and here with you, Chimi. You are truly a pathos unto yourself.”
“In turn, you pledged yourself to grant us control of the entire mage house through you,” Dad said.
“Carved in stone,” Eleanor replied.
“Let it be written, shall be done.” Egeon and Poole raised salutes and dropped them.
“Ygrair’s lake, Rasu’s Rope, Everwinter Keep.” Dad growled the oaths, “I feel a bottle’s been uncorked that cannot be sealed.”
“Dye is set, ordained and granted, death to Rava, may cold nights keep, and Rasu’s ashes bless the lands of Everwinter.” She placed a hand over her heart, “I will teach her all I know, but she must learn from other places with great mages, with the first being Asheluna.”
“Poole.” Dad said, “Take Chimi and Ishi with you and get the platoons ready to deploy. Egeon send word to have Wes come here and speak with Eleanor further.”
Ishi opened the door, and Poole led them both outside down the candlelit stairs.
“Chichi,” Ishi said, “How are you?”
“Excited.” She said, “I’m finally in.”
“Be cautious,” Ishi handed her a dagger, “Keep this with you.”
“I understand.” Chimi hooked it onto her belt. “Have you seen combat?”
“It will be a lot for you.” Her smile went flat, “The battlefield is a place full of malice, poison and harrows to the soul. Did you speak with Asher?”
“It was a short conversation.” She said, “Men worry that if they touch me, they die. Is he not upset?”
“He held no grudges for it.” Ishi said, “None knew you were cursed.”
“I want to know who cursed me,” Chimi growled as they reached the shop. They marched outside into the cold air. Snow began to fall in the blustery, which cast a thin layer of white over her vision.
“All in time, Chichi, first you’ve got what you want right ahead of you, and I’m here to support you—“
“Eyes focused, girls.” Poole said, “Chimi, time to get in with your fellows.”
They arrived near the gates of Emmerlaine, where the skirmishing platoons, one to three, then five, were ready in full equipment. Four hundred strong with reserves who chose to remain with the defenders, scouts had already departed. From the townspeople gathered on the sides of the street, Poole got salutes and cheers from the men at work, nods and smirks of approval from goodwives who had single friends through being widowed or travelling with merchant caravans from Almeira.
Chimi disagreed with her father on allowing them in; she could feel the difference between the glares and stares she was met with. Dad, tall as a mountain, natural disasters could come, and he would stand strong, solid. She rolled her shoulders and kept herself relaxed.
Poole cleared his throat, “Soldiers of Emmerlaine, show your pride to the people!”
The soldiers, sons and daughters of Emmerlaine, adorned in gambeson and armour. Steel helms and steel-tipped spears crafted by the finest forge masters they had. As one, they saluted and cheered.
Poole continued, “Training of Chimi has been done by her father, she was put through the horrid realms of Zitlaan to create the perfect soldier!” he saluted, “She could take most of you men, bar Gibson and the captains, in single combat, the only woman here who could beat her would be the one who calls herself shield maiden. You may have your issues, but show her the proper respect a barracks-born Boxie gets!”
A few cheers, here and there, notably mostly from a section of platoon five at the back.
Poole rested a hand on her shoulder, “Platoon five, under my watch.”
Another platoon captain approached with her weapons, a spear, a kite shield with an axe and a broadsword. She looked up at his scarred face, Hammond. Marked by green eyes sharp enough to bleed stone.
“It’ll look good on you, child.” He said gruffly, “Make your father proud, prove your worth, daughter of shattered prophecies.”
Poole went to speak, but Chimi spoke before him, “I cannot apologise for that, but my birth must mean something.” She clenched the spear, “I will make it mean something or die so the next child can be born kissed by the gods.”
Hammond studied her for a brief moment before he nodded approvingly and marched away.
“You speak like your mother,” Poole said.
“Always had berries for words when she wanted to.” Ishi agreed.
The war horn sounded from behind to announce father’s presence, “Children of Emmerlaine, embers of Rasu, prepare for skirmish. Today’s target is a newly formed blight near the Shimmerrain tree.”
Chimi sped herself into her unit at the back between Gail, daughter of Hammond and Frankie, son of Al. She was sure that was them, yes, it was them. She drew a rough breath of icy air as the unit turned. The practice drills lined up, but she felt a slight awkwardness in her movements. A quarter of a beat too slow, maybe a motion too quick.. She bloody needed to ask dad for more formal training with units instead of his sheltering away— she appreciated his care. Her training was far more difficult than what soldiers went through. She had the grit.
The logistics troupe handed out packs of food to every soldier, she noticed hers was slightly smaller than the rest. Father’s eyes darted to the man, but she shook her head and smiled at him. She could suffer through this, she’d earn respect through deeds. War and Everwinter.