Cassandra dreams of Aureil and of the events leading to and following the death of King Austin.
Preparing the play had been a long but pleasurable work. Finally, the first draft was ready; it was time to rehearse it and think of stage directions. Cassandra waited for Kwesyther at the Hall. They would not need the actors yet — this evening was just to have a first idea of how long would it take to transpose the written words into a spoken dialogue. Pause, intonations, hesitations, all those factors made a difference impossible to judge by staring at a fixed page.
The two wizards went through the first act a few times,, trying different staging options. Then the second act. The third. In between, there would still be the verses penned by Antoninus. But the cleric was a slow writer, and those would probably be ready shortly before the premiere. The actors composing the chorus were patient. They wouldn't mind learning their lines with such a short notice, so big was the enthusiasm of bringing this project to a good end.
The moon was already high in the sky when the blue robed wizard declared it was time to sleep. He was always the responsible one. Cassandra would gladly spend days and nights working, without thinking of the consequences to her skin and her brain by the end of it. It was so hard to disconnect from an obsessive idea, that even when she slept things would still occupy her thoughts. She would certainly dream of Seth and Fool Coco that night. Or perhaps she would just rest, unable to sleep at all.
Wishing good night to her companion, she untied her boots, and carefully folded her robe next to the bed, with the hat on the top. She didn't like to sleep at the Hall. Too many people could walk in and wake her up abruptly. It would be even worse if they were to trip on her robe carelessly thrown to the floor. Closing her eyes to summon sleep, she recalled one of the details they still had to solve in the play. Different documents had different information on a wizard called Aureil. Most would say he was a man, who had helped Queen Lyrel killing Austin. But one single faded note mentioned him as a woman, the concubine of Coco. "You will play Aureil, and we address him as a male," had said Kwesyther. That way they would keep the ambiguity, and if not right historically, at least it would be an inside joke remind the authors of the problems faced in the research.
"Disparaging comments often include gender references," said the voice. She was now walking on a square stage limited by green fences on all sides but the back, where a wall had been erected with round trunks of trees, carefully aligned so that the light would not pass. "Aureil used Astral Projections. Hold on a second." A figure in a grey robe and a grey wizard hat was standing in front of her. "Normally he wore red. As a projection he looked like this," continued the figure. She heard her own voice asking what would a projection do. "It could do anything he could. But while he was using it his body was vulnerable."
Her sense couldn't recognise the person in front of her. Impalpable, still familiar; the conversation between the two flew as if they had met before. "I assume the advantage was to get to places his body couldn't." The other nodded assent. "Indeed. I seem to recall Marthonis used the same device once or twice. It's something that might be useful." Marthonis, Marthonis and his thirst for all things to be know. Would he teach them about projections? The wizard forced herself to open her eyes again. "I must remember this tomorrow," the told herself, before turning around and falling asleep again, trying to pick up the dream at the point she had left it.
At first she saw sheep. And harpies, in a field of lotus. Sweeping these colourful images aside, she focused on finding the grey robed man again. There he was, standing slightly above her head. She had to ask her questions while she was still convinced of being in possession of her reason. A minute longer could be too late. "Aureil sided with Lyrel, right?" she inquired, "and was from the Sourcerer's Council too?" The man floating above her head seemed to understand her words, even if she didn't understand then herself any longer. "Aureil came after Greil. Who came after Ploog. Aureil was responsible for Sam II killing the King."
She must had asked about the murdering of the King at this point. She would logically have asked, would she be in full control of her voice. "I think it was a conspiracy with Lyrel. But it was a long time ago. I think there was a ruse. The majority of the people were busy somewhere else. Aureil brought Sam II to Austin's bed. Austin had a dagger of power, but he was no match for the ranger." The figure paused to look up to the sky. What would he be able to see from there, she wondered, sheep, harpies, and lotus invading the landscape again. "Austin was wearing a purple robe at the time."
And suddenly she was floating too, orbiting around the grey figure, words pouring forth her mouth, and organising themselves in the air in the form of questions, some round and gentle, others with sharp lines and aggressive. The hands by which the dragonstone ring had passed, the exact order of the dynasty, the colours of Lyrel's waxed hats, the tuskers in the lake of lava… The figure would just turn his head as she passed, waiting for the end of each complete circle to reply to any of the questions asked. She would fly higher and higher at each turn. "Ian was a good boy… Ian was a good boy… Ian was a good boy…" Higher, higher, until she fell heavily on the ground again.
The wizards shivered in discomfort. Unable to wake up, she struggled her way back to the bed, her feet entangled in the blueish sheets of the Mirith Vanguard. "Dominus was Lyrel's mage, but then came the Bane?" she asked, now committed to her dreams, unaware of the absence of blanket, that had fell to the side, nor the freezing cold she was feeling. "He wore a blue robe and a black hat," replied the shadow, once again in suspension above her head. "I know Tholarius wore all blue," she declared with a vehemence strange to her usual tone of voice. "We're not discussing him," stated the shadow, threatening to disappear from sight. "We will in a second," she yelled. The shadow remained.
"He sided with Dominus before the Bane or after?" she inquired, now in a whisper. "Loyal servant to Dominus," was the dry reply. "When Dominus becomes Bane Dominus, he's not Lyrel's mage anymore?" she continued, "Lyrel had been banished before that point," he retorted. And the grey robed figure was gone. In his place, the same man, in a different attire, as if in his voice a multitude of living beings could take shape, and he would only be the unifying narrator of all those different lives.
"When Ian and Seth stormed the castle…" resumed the figure, now covered in black, "Lyrel was banished by Seth. And her followers jailed. For a while after Travis the former Royal Scout tried to find her." He paused to stare at her intimidatingly, showing by his look that his subsequent words would be of major importance. "Wore black plate and robe." She felt the muscles of her face trembling in a smile. "Dominus had been teaching him Black Magic. Worked with Tholarius for a while. They tried to summon Dominus back. To aid them in their quest. After some considerable trouble they located the Book of the Dead…"
A dormant insight made her continue his words. "…And used it to summon Dominus." The shadow changed position, moving to the other side of her. "Yes, with the aid of the witch Sevohabwyn. Dominus returned as a disciple of the Bane." She turned around, following the voice. "Of course around the same time Stefan and the Necromancer were up to no good. Dominus and Tholarius had killed Susan Bridges, Stefan's lover. And a brigand cleric. She was working against Aureil in secret. And had been releasing prisoners from the jail. She screamed and screamed."
"Reminiscence." After a sigh, he continued, "They overthrew Lyrel and the Bane took Dominus. Stefan wanted to bring back Susan Bridges. And entered into a pact with the Necromancer. If Stefan brought him the Tome of the Damned he would bring back Susan Bridges. Escalus had it for reasons I forget. And was meant to burn it. Eventually The Necromancer and Stefan tried to bring back Susan Bridges anyway. But without the Tome they got it wrong. And the spirit of Ploog was brought back instead. Creating the Lord Lich."
She wanted to wake up. Her feet, now liberated, were kicking against the mattress, her head shaking repeatedly, incomprehensible sounds coming from her mouth. After a few minutes, the wizard was still again, the trouble of her dreams being revealed only be her tense hands holding tight the lower ends of the pillow. The figure was still there, waiting quietly for her return. "It was his fault," he stated to the void. "Who killed Ploog in first place," she asked. "He had a royal robe. Fighter. No, wait. He killed Sorcerer Pete." She gave up the question. Asked another. "What happened to the Book of the Dead after Tholarius and Travis? Lost until Marthonis' times?" The other was unsure. Well, he found it in Marali. I imagine it had several owners over the years." Other disconnected little questions followed.
The figure looked at the sky once again. It was time to put an end to the encounter. "Sometimes it's nice to talk about the past," he let escape as his final words, disappearing back in the darkness he had come from. She was still on the stage, alone and silent. The trunks were vanishing one by one, the fences dissolving in the background. The floor was the only thing standing still and offering support and safety. She crawled to one of its corners, as the rest of the world was disappearing. Curling in the fetal position, she abandoned herself to a heavy sleep, this time undisturbed by dreams.
[Thanks to those who need to be thanked, as usual.]
The two wizards went through the first act a few times,, trying different staging options. Then the second act. The third. In between, there would still be the verses penned by Antoninus. But the cleric was a slow writer, and those would probably be ready shortly before the premiere. The actors composing the chorus were patient. They wouldn't mind learning their lines with such a short notice, so big was the enthusiasm of bringing this project to a good end.
The moon was already high in the sky when the blue robed wizard declared it was time to sleep. He was always the responsible one. Cassandra would gladly spend days and nights working, without thinking of the consequences to her skin and her brain by the end of it. It was so hard to disconnect from an obsessive idea, that even when she slept things would still occupy her thoughts. She would certainly dream of Seth and Fool Coco that night. Or perhaps she would just rest, unable to sleep at all.
Wishing good night to her companion, she untied her boots, and carefully folded her robe next to the bed, with the hat on the top. She didn't like to sleep at the Hall. Too many people could walk in and wake her up abruptly. It would be even worse if they were to trip on her robe carelessly thrown to the floor. Closing her eyes to summon sleep, she recalled one of the details they still had to solve in the play. Different documents had different information on a wizard called Aureil. Most would say he was a man, who had helped Queen Lyrel killing Austin. But one single faded note mentioned him as a woman, the concubine of Coco. "You will play Aureil, and we address him as a male," had said Kwesyther. That way they would keep the ambiguity, and if not right historically, at least it would be an inside joke remind the authors of the problems faced in the research.
"Disparaging comments often include gender references," said the voice. She was now walking on a square stage limited by green fences on all sides but the back, where a wall had been erected with round trunks of trees, carefully aligned so that the light would not pass. "Aureil used Astral Projections. Hold on a second." A figure in a grey robe and a grey wizard hat was standing in front of her. "Normally he wore red. As a projection he looked like this," continued the figure. She heard her own voice asking what would a projection do. "It could do anything he could. But while he was using it his body was vulnerable."
Her sense couldn't recognise the person in front of her. Impalpable, still familiar; the conversation between the two flew as if they had met before. "I assume the advantage was to get to places his body couldn't." The other nodded assent. "Indeed. I seem to recall Marthonis used the same device once or twice. It's something that might be useful." Marthonis, Marthonis and his thirst for all things to be know. Would he teach them about projections? The wizard forced herself to open her eyes again. "I must remember this tomorrow," the told herself, before turning around and falling asleep again, trying to pick up the dream at the point she had left it.
At first she saw sheep. And harpies, in a field of lotus. Sweeping these colourful images aside, she focused on finding the grey robed man again. There he was, standing slightly above her head. She had to ask her questions while she was still convinced of being in possession of her reason. A minute longer could be too late. "Aureil sided with Lyrel, right?" she inquired, "and was from the Sourcerer's Council too?" The man floating above her head seemed to understand her words, even if she didn't understand then herself any longer. "Aureil came after Greil. Who came after Ploog. Aureil was responsible for Sam II killing the King."
She must had asked about the murdering of the King at this point. She would logically have asked, would she be in full control of her voice. "I think it was a conspiracy with Lyrel. But it was a long time ago. I think there was a ruse. The majority of the people were busy somewhere else. Aureil brought Sam II to Austin's bed. Austin had a dagger of power, but he was no match for the ranger." The figure paused to look up to the sky. What would he be able to see from there, she wondered, sheep, harpies, and lotus invading the landscape again. "Austin was wearing a purple robe at the time."
And suddenly she was floating too, orbiting around the grey figure, words pouring forth her mouth, and organising themselves in the air in the form of questions, some round and gentle, others with sharp lines and aggressive. The hands by which the dragonstone ring had passed, the exact order of the dynasty, the colours of Lyrel's waxed hats, the tuskers in the lake of lava… The figure would just turn his head as she passed, waiting for the end of each complete circle to reply to any of the questions asked. She would fly higher and higher at each turn. "Ian was a good boy… Ian was a good boy… Ian was a good boy…" Higher, higher, until she fell heavily on the ground again.
The wizards shivered in discomfort. Unable to wake up, she struggled her way back to the bed, her feet entangled in the blueish sheets of the Mirith Vanguard. "Dominus was Lyrel's mage, but then came the Bane?" she asked, now committed to her dreams, unaware of the absence of blanket, that had fell to the side, nor the freezing cold she was feeling. "He wore a blue robe and a black hat," replied the shadow, once again in suspension above her head. "I know Tholarius wore all blue," she declared with a vehemence strange to her usual tone of voice. "We're not discussing him," stated the shadow, threatening to disappear from sight. "We will in a second," she yelled. The shadow remained.
"He sided with Dominus before the Bane or after?" she inquired, now in a whisper. "Loyal servant to Dominus," was the dry reply. "When Dominus becomes Bane Dominus, he's not Lyrel's mage anymore?" she continued, "Lyrel had been banished before that point," he retorted. And the grey robed figure was gone. In his place, the same man, in a different attire, as if in his voice a multitude of living beings could take shape, and he would only be the unifying narrator of all those different lives.
"When Ian and Seth stormed the castle…" resumed the figure, now covered in black, "Lyrel was banished by Seth. And her followers jailed. For a while after Travis the former Royal Scout tried to find her." He paused to stare at her intimidatingly, showing by his look that his subsequent words would be of major importance. "Wore black plate and robe." She felt the muscles of her face trembling in a smile. "Dominus had been teaching him Black Magic. Worked with Tholarius for a while. They tried to summon Dominus back. To aid them in their quest. After some considerable trouble they located the Book of the Dead…"
A dormant insight made her continue his words. "…And used it to summon Dominus." The shadow changed position, moving to the other side of her. "Yes, with the aid of the witch Sevohabwyn. Dominus returned as a disciple of the Bane." She turned around, following the voice. "Of course around the same time Stefan and the Necromancer were up to no good. Dominus and Tholarius had killed Susan Bridges, Stefan's lover. And a brigand cleric. She was working against Aureil in secret. And had been releasing prisoners from the jail. She screamed and screamed."
"Reminiscence." After a sigh, he continued, "They overthrew Lyrel and the Bane took Dominus. Stefan wanted to bring back Susan Bridges. And entered into a pact with the Necromancer. If Stefan brought him the Tome of the Damned he would bring back Susan Bridges. Escalus had it for reasons I forget. And was meant to burn it. Eventually The Necromancer and Stefan tried to bring back Susan Bridges anyway. But without the Tome they got it wrong. And the spirit of Ploog was brought back instead. Creating the Lord Lich."
She wanted to wake up. Her feet, now liberated, were kicking against the mattress, her head shaking repeatedly, incomprehensible sounds coming from her mouth. After a few minutes, the wizard was still again, the trouble of her dreams being revealed only be her tense hands holding tight the lower ends of the pillow. The figure was still there, waiting quietly for her return. "It was his fault," he stated to the void. "Who killed Ploog in first place," she asked. "He had a royal robe. Fighter. No, wait. He killed Sorcerer Pete." She gave up the question. Asked another. "What happened to the Book of the Dead after Tholarius and Travis? Lost until Marthonis' times?" The other was unsure. Well, he found it in Marali. I imagine it had several owners over the years." Other disconnected little questions followed.
The figure looked at the sky once again. It was time to put an end to the encounter. "Sometimes it's nice to talk about the past," he let escape as his final words, disappearing back in the darkness he had come from. She was still on the stage, alone and silent. The trunks were vanishing one by one, the fences dissolving in the background. The floor was the only thing standing still and offering support and safety. She crawled to one of its corners, as the rest of the world was disappearing. Curling in the fetal position, she abandoned herself to a heavy sleep, this time undisturbed by dreams.
[Thanks to those who need to be thanked, as usual.]
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