Rook

The second Klava had returned to Ariadne, she was swallowed whole by her friends' tales of what had happened in her absence. There was no need for her to 'just have to be there' for Klava to laugh along and soak up Ariadne's good day through osmosis. It almost made up for the hours she had spent in uneasy silence. Almost.

"We're not supposed to have mirrors." Delphi threw a bonnet Ariadne asked to borrow at her.

"I won't tell if you won't." Ariadne stuck out her tongue. “How else are you supposed to know how pretty you are? By trusting people? Besides, I like having my hair curled just like they do in the capital. You'd make them too small if I let you near." She went back to painting her face with a green mud she mixed up just for the occasion. "Besides, it's a stupid rule anyway."

"You think all the rules are stupid." Delphi did spare a glance at herself in the mirror when she walked by despite herself. "You won't last long here if you can't figure out how to go about things quietly."

"Only teachers like quiet people," Ariadne said. "Everyone knows the best way to find your people is to take up as much space as possible."

"How do you do it?" Klava asked. The uniforms they were forced to wear made her feel small, like someone stuffed her into a costume that didn’t fit quite right. It didn’t matter how many different loopholes Ariadne had to make them ‘prettier’ it still forced them to be in skirts, mindful of how they sat, and to keep spells tidy. There was no makeover the girls could pull together that made Klava feel entitled to admiration.

Ariadne pulled away from the vanity mirror, ready to go through her ten-step beauty routine, before Klava shyly informed her that her day had been far from lively. Any hope about smoothly transitioning into a school with three times the amount of people as her village had been dashed after their little group had been forced to part.

“It’s not that everyone hates me, they don’t even know me. That’s the problem. They don’t want to know me and I haven’t a clue how to make them change their minds,” Klava said. She hugged her pillow, all ready for bed. She had been for a while. Something about the day had left her exhausted, even though she'd done less than either of the other girls. “You make it look so easy.”

“That’s because I am like the sun and you are more like ice. It’s a sun's duty to melt ice and set it free. You can have a sun near another sun and they’ll both be warm, but ice can not approach a sun. It simply doesn’t work," Ariadne said astutely. “You need to find a table with people who are like ice. Then you all can sit in comfortable, cold silence.”

“How do I do that?” Klava asked.

“That’s the tricky part,” she said. “It’s not like you talked to anyone on your own. They’d be the same, sooner comfortable alone than surrounded by people.”

Klava did know someone like that, but he didn’t go to the school. Perhaps venturing off campus would give her some relief from the threat of judgmental eyes, and if she was lucky, someone to share a meal with. Being alone lost its charms after the first twenty minutes.

“What about you Delphi? Are you also ice?”

"Ariadne's just making things up again." Delphi tucked the last of her curls under a silk bonnet. "There are more than two types of people, and I am like neither of them."

“You wish you were ice. Ice does well in places like this. While everyone else enjoys talking, it feeds on those who love to read and work. The Fates like people like that, especially Celene. All she does is write, after all.” Ariadne chuckled to herself and whispered as she passed Klava's bed, "I wouldn't go thinking of Delphi as a friend either; more of an ally. She wants to follow in Morai's footsteps after all." Then, to the whole room, "That might be your other problem. You won't find a kind word from anyone that sees you as competition."

"There's nothing I can do about that," Klava said. "If I told them I wasn't interested, they'd think I was lying."

"True." Delphi nodded along with a sympathetic sigh. Few wanted to be roommates with a potential death goddess. Too many paranoid rumors about how she whispered to Morai what went on at the school to gain favor. It wasn't her fault that the people who talked to her most were teachers.

"You're my friends at least." Klava asked, "Aren't you?" Then again, it sounded like Ariadne was friends with everyone. Still, she hoped to have something positive to write home to her sister about.

"Of course." Ariadne finished adding the last rag to her mess of curlers. She touched the back of her hand against the cooling kettle at her side, then poured the hot water over her head as she leaned over the sink. All the rich ladies in her hometown did it, so she swore by it. "There's lots you can do with extra time, Klava. If I were you, I'd think of it as a gift."

"When I have something to show for it, I'll agree with you," Klava said with a smile. She appreciated the advice and all the good intentions behind it. Only noble ladies complained about having nothing to do. Here she had a stuffed mattress and all the time in the world to hone her craft. If truly determined, she could remain at the school indefinitely. It was only the first week. She needed to learn to have some patience.

***

The hearth cracked as the old god stared past it, reminded of how time contained things in neat little stages. Smoke billowed from sources other than the fire. He sighed, knowing again death would try to pressure him into conforming to her wishes.

"He's still mortal." Her anger sucked all the warmth out of the room.

"So is your ward," he said. "As he should be. As all of them should be."

"He's not my successor." Morai shook her head. "Those lost little ducklings will do well at keeping the Wraiths at bay, even if they gain nothing from it." Seeing what a Wraith was capable of would prevent them from offering mercy where there should be none. No one got away with cheating death. "I still have time, unlike you. He has so much to learn, and what of the Fury-"

"He's learning good patterns, to be vigilant of change and correct it without question. That is all he needs to do. Burdening him with knowledge will only make the job harder. He's just a boy."

"You don't think one day he'll get curious?"

"Even if he does-" He settled further into his chair. "-he will not act upon it. All that matters is things stay the way they are for as long as possible."

"Could you, at the barest minimum, tell him what that looks like for places outside your own home?" Morai's eye twitched. She already had three children to educate. She did not anticipate adding a fourth. "If you don't, someone else will, and I doubt you'd like what they have to say." He went back to ignoring her, as many men often did.

She left the room, her heart a great deal heavier. Of course it was hard to burden a child with the worries of adulthood, of death, of the expectations of mortals. She'd been putting it off herself for as long as possible. It was natural to be scared. The world would suffer from their paralysis if allowed to continue.

"Rook," Morai called into the empty foyer, "it's time to go." Two heads popped up at the top of the stairs. Rook slid down the railing to join her at her side, tawny hair askew and full of twigs. Mortis took the steps one at a time with a solemn expression. "I'll be back in a week or so to see what you've learned," she said. "You haven't been abandoned here."

"I know that." A little light returned to Mortis's eyes.

"If you ever need us, we're here for you too," Rook said. "You'll go mad if all you talk to are walls. I'd love to stay, but duty calls." He saluted to Mortis in a joking fashion, met with a stony nod of understanding. All lighthearted pretenses were dropped the second Rook's back was turned. He followed Morai down the cobblestone steps and away from the manor where the carriage awaited them.

"Do you feel more at ease now?" Morai asked.

"No. He's just as suggestible as ever," Rook said. It was a better life than combing the streets at night for Wraiths, but not if it had to be spent all alone. "All he does is what he's told to, to the letter. He's sorted everything in the house thinking you asked him to."

"He's not starving, or crying himself to sleep as you said he would," Morai said. "My decision stands. You do not need to stay with him."

Rook climbed into the carriage and seated himself near the window closest to the manor. He crossed his arms just to show how displeased he was with her ruling, even if he didn't fight it. There was no point in fighting her; she always got her way in the end.

"You don't understand how painful it is to watch the people close to you live their lives while time escapes you. I'd rather he transition to his new life as painlessly as possible," Morai said.

"He won't forget being mortal," Rook said. "He won't forget us, whether you hide us away from him or not."

"Rook..." She tilted his head so he wouldn't see the mansion get sucked into the trees. "You will do great things and bring joy to the people around you. We don't. We simply are." She let go of his face, leaving cold patches where she had once touched him. "I will continue to honor the request he made of me to the best of my abilities, whether you agree with that decision or not."

"Yes, Mama Morai."

The carriage rattled off into the shadows and disappeared out of sight.