Vivian's Choice

In spite of the cheer over Stefan and Vladimir’s marriage, unforeseen circumstances found the Greymoors leaving the estate later that night. A missive from a messenger bird carrying a seal strapped to its chest reached the Dimoski household as the sun eclipsed below the horizon. As soon as John and Stefan had read the message attached, they yelled at everyone to pack the carriages.

“Are we forgetting something?” Stefan later asked, eyeing a nearby meadow topped with lily pads and frogs, “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”

“Don’t think so,” Vladimir said, “Diane brought us my birth certificate and the Caxton turned out to be a curse.”

“You’re forgetting you’re taking Guin and I to the Enchanters Guild next,” Diane interjected, “That was our deal, yes?”

“Yes,” John Greymoor called from the front of the carriages, “We’ll arrive there by morning.”

“And I strongly suggest we change course,” Stefan said, “The details of the war pigeon are extremely concerning.”

“No,” Vivian shook her head, “The message only confirms what we already knew would happen. The rebels have opened multiple theaters of war across the empire. The imperial army is weak when it remains uncoordinated.”

“Even more reason that we make for the guild,” Diane said, “What’s the problem Stefan?”

“The problem is that’s not all the message says,” Stefan sighed, “The war pigeon we intercepted was meant for the Dimoskis, and it asked that they assemble with the rest of the magic families at the city of Arcadia. There’s going to be a massive counteroffensive.”

“And you think the Guild headquarters are too close to Arcadia?” Diane asked.

“It is too close to Arcadia,” Stefan answered, “You’re not stupid Diane. The city isn’t a fortress, it’s not even an economic hub. It has no political or economic value, so why are they gathering magisters there?”

“You think the royals are up to something?” Vivian asked.

“They always are.”

“But against the Enchanters Guild?” Vivian raised a skeptical eye, “Something doesn’t quite fit. Where’s Artimael and his knights?”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Diane said, “Then my people are in the line of fire, and where will you find safe harbor if the Enchanters Guild is wiped out? Will you pray that Vladimir’s scholarship is enough to yield protection from a lesser circle? Or are you already considering fleeing the empire? Seek asylum in one of the neighboring countries?”

“I’d be happy if you were bringing only Vlad and I,” Stefan replied, “But the rest of our family is onboard. I’m not willing to bring our mother and father into the middle of a warzone.”

“Calm down, Stefan,” John Greymoor called from his seat, “We’ve made a deal with Lady Astral. We shall see it through, Diane.”

“You may leave the moment you drop me off,” Diane shrugged, “I won’t keep you.”

“By morning we may no longer be able to leave,” Stefan laid his head upon Vladimir’s shoulders to sleep.

The news of the rebels advancing along the front shook the Greymoor carriages with bouts of anxiety that night. Stefan and Vladimir spoke in their sleep. Diane slept not a wink, staring outside at the distant moon, murmuring silent prayers. Vivian awoke a few times from her slumber during the night.

“You haven’t slept at all,” Vivian whispered, “Are you worried about the guild?”

“I had hoped to avoid a situation where I may have to send my people to war,” Diane said, “Yet here war comes searching for them.”

“And I thought you called us the idealists.”

“They should call you Greymoors a disease,” Diane chuckled, “Have you spoken with Kyle at all?”

“We really want to talk about that now?”

“You’re in a new relationship, I’m happy for you, and I want to hear about it,” Diane laid her hand on her palms, “What’s he like and keep in mind, he’s listening.”

I wanted to retort with a sarcastic remark, but I saw a lonesome weariness in Diane’s eyes. In spite of her usual joking, she seemed more vulnerable tonight than ever before. Perhaps she needed a reprieve from thinking about the inevitable. Perhaps this was her way of saying it was the calm before the storm.

“Well you didn’t tell me he was so love-struck,” Vivian said, “My goodness not even Artimael was that effusive.”

“That’s what I like about him,” Diane said, “He wears his heart on his sleeve.”

“He’s…sweet,” Vivian said, “You were right, Diane, I did feel like he was looking out for me, even when we hadn’t even met for the first time.”

“He was mad about you, that’s for certain.”

“Mad about or mad at?” Vivian smirked, “He seemed really upset that I hadn’t listened to his instructions about the attribute menu.”

“Absolutely furious,” Diane replied.

Hello? I was right here?

“To be honest,” Vivian said, “I’m not sure how a relationship like this is even really possible. But, I think I do like him, and I’d like to see where it goes.”

“If he ever hurts you, let me know,” Diane closed her eyes, finally feeling the heaviness of sleep, “I can dismantle him for you.”

She…wouldn’t really do that, would she?

“You’ve always looked out for me, haven’t you?”
“What are friends for?”

The carriages grew quiet and the Greymoor household and their esteemed guests slept beneath the shadow of the next morning. Vivian stayed up for another hour before falling asleep, staring at Diane with pensive thoughts brewing in her mind.

When the sun rose the following day, the light of dawn revealed large trails of smoke streaking across the sky. Rumbles, like distant thunder, boomed at intervals too even to be a force of nature.

“Riding into a warzone,” Stefan muttered as he awoke, “Lovely.”

“We’re close enough,” Diane shrugged, “I can walk from here, you Greymoors don’t need to escort me any further.”

“Are you sure, Lady Astral?” Eleanor yawned.

“Did you not hear your son, Lady Greymoor?” Diane cackled, “I know you lot are obsessed with honor, but it would besmirch my reputation to allow you onto the battlefield.”

“Where do you want us to take Miss Veridian?” Stefan asked.

“Guin stays with me,” Diane replied, “She goes where I go.”

“That settles it then,” Stefan sighed, “Diane. Best of luck.”

“I’m not dead yet,” Diane chortled, “No need to be so glum about it. Guin, take my hand.”

I noticed then that Vivian had kept her hands gripped tightly over her dress all that morning. Her eyes had been closed as if meditating or praying. As Diane took her first step out the carriage, Vivian’s eyes opened, revealing a face resolved of any doubt, and reached for Diane’s shoulders to stop her.

“Wait,” Vivian said, “Diane. With your permission I’d like to come with you.”

Everyone turned to look at Vivian.

“Maybe the sounds of Kapur artillery have blown out my ears,” Stefan said, “But it sounded like you said you wanted to go with Diane in the direction of all that black smoke.”

“Yes,” Vivian nodded, “I do.”

“Why?” even Diane sounded incredulous.

“What are friends for?” Vivian shrugged.

“Vivian, you can’t be serious,” Stefan scoffed, “This isn’t a tea party or a soiree. Diane, Vlad, talk her out of this or something. Emily?"

"I will go wherever my lady treads," the maid bowed and stepped off the carriage first.

"Diane supported me in ways that went above and beyond just the call of friendship," Vivian explained, "She saved my life at the castle and she introduced me to someone special."

That’s me.

"Someone special, Viv?" Stefan asked.

"Don't think about it too hard," Diane pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's only right that I repay her generous favors," Vivian looked to her father, "Otherwise I wouldn't be able to call myself a Greymoor. Principles, am I not right, father?"

"Principles, principles," John smiled weakly, "Yes, I believe you are right my daughter."

"But we paid any favor by bringing Diane here!" Stefan cried, "And what was that, Diane, about not bringing civilians onto the battlefield? Vivian, listen to me–"

"Let it rest, Stefan," John said, "Allow your sister the privilege of acting of her own accord."

“I’m not just doing this for Diane,” Vivian said, “Something tells me a Greymoor should play a part in this.”

Stefan's desperate expression suggested he had more complaints, but he did as his father advised and silenced himself. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts, before turning a stern expression to Diane and his sister.

"Don't let her do anything stupid," Stefan said.

"I'm already failing you by bringing her along," Diane said, "Vivian, you're sure about this?"

"Let's see this to the end, Lady Astral."

“Cyrus is expecting us at Lake Mosley,” John Greymoor said, “If you would be so kind as to escort her there when this is over.”

"I'll bring her and Emily back safe," Diane bowed, "On my own honor as the Astral Viscountess."

The Greymoor carriages turned to depart. Stefan and Vladimir waved their goodbyes, somber faces drawn on both of them. Vivian smiled at them. Shortly after, the carriages had crested over the hills of the countryside and disappeared.

“You know,” Diane said, “After what I’m about to do today, they won’t just call you the Witch of Caerleon anymore.”

“I suspected as much,” Vivian sighed, “You never did get a good night’s sleep on the days you planned something mischievous. So, what are we doing this time? Turning the magisters into chickens?”

“Hah! Oh Vivian darling, the difference between you and me is that I’m not scared to dream big.”

The Astral Viscountess pointed down the road and began to walk, with Guin Veridian following close behind. She flashed a wicked smile as she gazed at trails of smoke.

“I’m going to take over the Caerleon Empire.”