Present and Past

“Hello, Guild-Master Borage, Vice-Master Laven,” Yew greeted. She sidled up next to them, uncaring of whatever they were talking about. She would simply leave if they disliked her interruption. “You’re dressed surprisingly well this evening,” she complemented, not realizing that it sounded more like an insult. Fortunately, Master Borage was a man of good humor and familiar with Yew besides, so he only laughed and thanked her. It was the sort of guffaw that filled a room, even in a place like this where so many other sounds were already present.

“You look pretty nice tonight yourself, miss Shepherdess,” he returned. Yew thanked him. “You won’t say anything about Laven?” He poked. Yew blinked at him.

“Vice-Master Laven always looks well put together,” she said.

“Quite,” the man in question coughed, blushing lightly. It’s nice to have one’s efforts noticed, after all.

Master Borage laughed again, clapping the younger man on the shoulder a few times like a proud uncle. He was, for once, dressed in multiple layers of fitted clothing instead of the looser garb he favored most days. He wore a dark three-piece suit, informal only in its lack of tie and undone top button. Frankly, it was a small miracle that must have been the vice-master’s work. His long gray-streaked dark green hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and even his normally bushy beard was combed into a semblance of order. Yew reevaluated the threat level of the vice-master, the mysterious pristine gloves were bad enough, this was practically an act of immeasurable power. The organized young man seemed to be capable of defying the entropy of the universe.

Vice-Master Laven was similarly dressed, except that his ensemble included a tie and his usual gloves. She thought maybe his short dark brown hair was parted differently, but she didn’t pay quite enough attention to know for sure. There was also a small pair of shiny black studs poking through his ears; Yew wondered if they were magical artifacts.

“I’m glad the two of you could make it, you arrived just in time to provide me with a convenient escape.” Yew smiled, cheerfully polishing off the rest of her parfait and setting the dish aside for collection.

“Running from your adoring fans, are we?” His grin was lopsided and teasing. Yew scoffed.

“Hardly, they weren’t talking about me anyway.” She waved a hand loosely in the air as if to brush the idea away. “What brings you to the ball? Looking for someone to sponsor? You don’t usually like these sorts of formal events.” Yew tilted her head, curious.

“What? An old man can’t attend a party on a whim?” He placed his hands on his hips, stance wide, never afraid to fill space.

“You? Maybe alone, but not with Vice-Master Laven; you wouldn’t leave the guild without leadership on a whim,” she observed. Jokester he may be, but he wasn’t the guild-master for no reason. He put his hands up, playfully placating.

“Alright, alright, no need to ruin my reputation now, how will I ever get married?” Yew only stared into his eyes, unamused. “We need an artificer so we came to scout one out to borrow,” he finally admitted.

“Oh? What happened?” At this he turned uncharacteristically bashful and the vice-master suppressed a smile behind a closed fist.

“I, uh, I’d rather not say. Not out in the open like this,” he gestured broadly to the crowded greenhouse, full of colorful and glimmering people. Yew couldn’t imagine what would make the lackadaisical man shy, but she took mercy on him.

“Well, I happen to know two excellent artificers, although they specialize in ancient artifacts, if that works?” She raised a brow, questioning.

“That, will probably be fine,” he glanced at Laven, checking for agreement. Laven nodded. “Thanks, then, I’ll take you up on that.” Yew smiled, turning to check the room for whichever friend she found first.

“Follow me,” she turned on the spot, beelining straight for Viola who was soliciting a new group of people. Passively, she noted that Salix was spinning around the dance floor; and with a twinge of disappointment and worry, that she had yet to see Astilbe anywhere. She dodged easily around the clusters of socializing guests and scholars, Borage and Laven right behind her with all the physical acuity their positions would merit.

Viola was busy skipping between patrons, giggling shyly behind a gloved hand and telling them all about “her little school projects”. Her listeners seemed endlessly charmed by her, and Yew wondered how many new sponsors she would have by the end of the night. It was hard to tell, sometimes, which were just amused by her antics and which could be convinced to part with their money. Yew caught her eye and waved, waiting at the periphery with the two men next to a luscious burgundy leaved shrub and some white flowers growing proudly up a trellis.

Viola broke away as smoothly as she could and made her way over to them. She greeted Yew happily, but Yew thought her voice was subtly tense underneath the sweet tone she was using. Yew made introductions quickly, noticing Viola perk up at the prospect of commission and left them to it. She was sure she’d find out whatever the guild-master’s deal was later. For now, she wanted to seek out Astilbe.

***

When she found him, he was outside leaning against one of the terrace banisters in the cool night air. The moon shone above him, reflecting silver light off his golden hair that had been braided and tied with a thin draping ribbon. He wore a long puff-sleeved shirt under a dark green vest, it had a feint pattern, but she couldn’t make out the edges with the way he was partially silhouetted by the full moon. He didn’t bother to turn when she opened the glass doors and stepped through. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something, he was always quiet whenever things got serious and he thought no one was looking.

Yew studied him for a moment; watching the rise and fall of his breathing and the tension in his shoulders. He looked rather morose for one of his favorite events of the year. He loved telling various people about the unique architecture of the ruins throughout the eras. Already knowing her steps were too soft for him to notice, especially in his current state, she reached out and gently knocked the glass pane beside her. As she suspected, the second he heard he took a quick breath in, whirled around, and smiled with false cheer that would have been far more convincing if she hadn’t already seen the truth.

The masking smile that he often shoved his true feelings beneath evaporated at the edges when he saw her. It was real now, but tinged in whatever mix of thoughts had captured him earlier. He still tried to pretend that he was fine, but his ability to hide crumbled in the face of her gaze that expected nothing of him. Whatever he would show her she would see, he knew, except when it related it to her. Astilbe leaned back, crossing his legs in one smooth motion, hands clasping together in front of him.

Yew let the door close behind her and walked forward. She wanted to ask, but sometimes not asking worked better. She stood with him, meeting his eyes for a moment, then turning to face the sky. There were fewer stars visible so close to the city, but still plenty enough to trace out the bigger constellations. They reminded her of her sister, and thought made her throat feel thick for a few seconds. Yew pushed the flash of sadness away, now wasn’t the time to think about the past. She sighed and rested her head in her palm. Maybe it was just this balcony; maybe someone left a mind altering spell somewhere that caused a solemn atmosphere.

With her other hand she produced a small spark of light, barely the size of a marble and floated it above her finger. She traced it through the air to watch the trail it would leave behind, burning into the back of her eyes. She followed a few of the shapes, but it soon devolved into meaningless swirls. Astilbe turned to watch it with her, brushing their shoulders together as he turned. The music drifted, muted, through the glass behind and beneath them; although it was more vibration than song.

Astilbe took a deep breath and spoke; it was just Yew and the moonlight here, neither would betray him.