Dalia sat in silent, still meditation along with the ten other young men and women on the clean tile floor of the temple. Her nearly black brown hair went nicely with her purple eyes, though you couldn't see it under the fine soft fabric of her robe's hood. Bright, warm sunlight filtered through high windows that flaunted a goregous view. For a country who's way of life depended on it's isolation by mage barrier, no position in life was more sacred than those who worked to maintain it.
But despite their identical robes and postures, Dalia stood out from the crowd- or rather, refused to stand out from it. She was still in an odd way, making it seem as though everyone else was swaying drunkenly though they were only wavering slightly with their deep breaths. In a seemingly motionless glassy pool, she was a lifeless stone in the water.
And then, with the warm sound of a bell's soft ring, the daily morning meditation session was over and the students were released to their personal quarters to do as they would for a few hours. Most rose slowly from the sleepy calm and slid out of the room without a word, still caught up in their tranquil states of mind, but even the most distant drifted out of Dalia's way as she wasted no time gliding soundlessly back to her rooms. No doubt she was already keen to put her clarity of mind to work on countles often-speculated over secret theories and essays.
Eager to get to her rooms or not, Dalia graceously stopped a dozen or so times on her way though the hallways. Yes, she'd gotten that letter, it was so nice to hear from you, thanks very much, and she'd answer all the questions in it as soon as she could. No, she couldn't tell anyone what project she was on now, but nice try! They'd find out soon enough, assuming that the theories worked out. Yes, she was looking forward to the coming of autumn, and agreed that the cool air made the robes more comfortable. Quiet friendly mutters fell like soft rain behind her.
All in all it was about a half an hour later that Dalia finally slipped onto the plush carpet of her study, locking the door behind her with a polished silver key that she kept close in a hidden pocket. Students in training weren't usually given locking doors, but an exception had been made here- giving rise to even more rumors of what ideas the prodigy might be up to studying.
She swept through the front room and it's laden desks and bookcases quickly, white robe picking up some of the soft lavander glow of various magery-infused objects and light globes. A letter fluttered to the floor from the desk as she passed, someone asking if Dalia would like to have her clothes picked up for cleaning twice instead of once this week, because didn't it seem awfully windy outside lately and they didnt want her to be stuck with dusty clothes.
Down the hallway, past the pillowed window seat, past the door to the clean bathroom, quickly unlocking her bedroom door with a different key and sliping inside to relock it. Dalia stood stock-still in the middle of the room and looked around, breath held in sharp attention.
Unlike the rest of her rooms and those of the other students, Dalia cleaned and kept this room personally. The cloudpuff white plushiness died off in the hallway; her bed was comfortable but plain, as were the chairs, the thinner carpet, and the desk. No windows reached outside, but it was as bright as day from the magelight globes overcharged with her own energy and wrapped in sheets of blue tissue paper to change the purple of the light. A person could only take so much purple.
After a minute of held breath, watching, listening, and sensing, Dalia was satisfied that no one and nothing was viewing her room by any means mundane or magical, and she let her breath out slowly through lightly clenched teeth. Not that anyone ever had spied on her. But it was always, always important to check.
Not like anyone even could if they tried, she let herself think now as she ripped her white robe off abruptly, crumpled it up into a ball and hurled it onto the bed. Not that these over sheltered closed minded simpletons would even concieve of trying! Why in the world bother? All the students of magery want only to serve their kingdom and nothing more! Of course there's no need to suspect- anyone of anything!
Dalia paced the long room, tearing her shoes off without stoping and throwing them at the bed as well. Every friendly word and smile of comraderie burned through her mind as she paced. Ah, if only they could know! I'd give anything short of my life and gift to see the looks on everyone's faces if they realized how blind they are, she shouted mentally with a grin. Did I get your letter? Of course I did, and thank you for wasting my time with your pointless ranting. You could solve all your questions by yourself if you'd just take a minute to think about them before running to someone else for answers. No, it's none of your cursed bloody business what I work on in my spare time and yes, autumn is coming. Very good! You've managed to figure out what order the seasons come in. Congradulations. I hope you didn't hurt yourself finding the pattern.
Gods, all of them idiots, and I'm stuck here wasting my time pretending to be as mindlessly happy as everyone else just because this addleminded sugarcoated society doesn't appreciate power any farther than it can use it to stick it's head in the sand! I could do so much more! She angrily snatched one of the magelight orbs from a table and heaved it at a wall, glass breaking and flying every which way, frustrations whirling into such a mental roar that she could hardly hear the shatter.
Slowly, slowly, standing there in the dark half of her room with shoulders heaving as if with sobs, she eased her breathing back down and put her face in one of her hands. I really ought to stop doing that... But it makes me feel so much better. Just yelling isn't enough. It's never enough. She made her way carefully over to where her shoes had landed and put them back on, as much to avoid stepping on any of the glass shards as to allow her to nudge and kick at them spitefully with a toe.
Purple. Ugh. I'm so sick of purple I could almost gouge my eyes out.
Or someone else's, at least she amended lightly, sitting down on her bed after being bored with the glass shards. Dalia had found, over time, that mental shouting could be almost as satisfying as actually speaking her thoughts, with the added benefits of a better audience guaranteed and the security that nobody would overhear. The kingdom trained and kept no telepaths.
None yet, anyway. Invasion of sacred privacy. Bah. She'd transcended the need for the whole hour of morning meditation years ago, and mental evesdroping had seemed a natural hobby for all the idle time- though it hadn't yeilded any true success, yet. Yet.
The thought brought the anger back; it was always swift to answer. Dalia clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists. I could have mastered it by now if they would just teach things like that! But they're afraid of it, all of them! Gutless cowards!
I'll show them someday. All of them. Somehow. They'll regret their shortsighted cowardace, their denial of how much greater we could be if they had the nerve to try instead of handicaping us by isolating us in this cursed bubble. They have no right to... to....
Rage derailed by the simple, quiet crinkling of a piece of paper, Dalia sat up with eyes wide and one hand under her pillow. She was posative she'd never left a piece of paper under there...
...especially not a note in strange and completely unfamilar handwriting. The angry red immediately drained from her face and her breathing and pulse instantly returned to normal, heavy facade of the perfect student and citizen defaulting back into place at the thought of a security breach.
'I heard you shouting, and I agree. I'd like to help. If you're interested, follow the white river a distance into the evergreens after sundown at the end of the week.
No, this isn't blackmail or a threat.
Signed,
A Potential Friend.'
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Outside and far away, across several sections of the castle-town but still inside it's newly reinforced fence, Markin of the city guard wandered listlissly around the training grounds. He stopped to stare at one of the archery targets, one with marks and dents spread erratically over all the rings. Kiah's old target. Out of an odd respect, nobody had used it since....
Markin sighed and walked around to study the back of the target, looking for any notes hidden in the crack between boards holding it up. It was a kind of messageboard for the group, since their differing schedules often kept them from meeting in person and the training grounds were one of the only places they all had easy access to. Each of them had their own little hidingspot- slash- mailbox hidden in it somewhere.
He found two letters in his spot today; one from Leena reporting that even more of the library attendants were being shifted away for other duties this week, and a somber report of one more mysterious attack and death came from Deever- formerly of the medical profession, now part time appointed (by volunteer) to the newly formed border patrol. Markin's stomach twisted with a cross between hope and fear as he read the description of the victim; but no, it was a young man this time. Guilty relief snuck into the emotional equation.
On an impulse he started to scribble a note to leave, stopping and half smiling as he realized how ridiculous the reflex was. But... well, why not? He wrote the note anyway, folded it up as small as he could manage and slipped it into an empty spot, asmiling sadly to himself as he felt that there was already at least one other recent note in there. He had a feeling the other one was considerably sharper tounged than his;