5. Explanations 2
Kavi couldn’t help but stare at everything he passed in the castle. Not everything was as bright or decorated as the rooms he’d woken up in, but all of it interested him. He was used to seeing the castle from the outside - yellow-white stone stacked in large blocks to towering heights pocketed with smoothed arches that were in turn guarded by carved statues almost eight times as tall as the men and women they depicted. No one Kavi knew, of course, they’d been carved ages ago, but the names were still inscribed at their bases.
Kavi’d never gotten close enough to read those inscriptions.
But now he walked the castle’s halls. He could see the same pale stone, smoothed and sometimes polished, serving as the flooring throughout the halls he passed through. Some had rugs or carpets, others were bare. Some doorways had carved frames, others were no more than a hole in the massive stone blocks. At first the corridors were empty, but then they reached the main halls, and the people they passed were such a strange assortment that Kavi thought, for a moment, that the entirety of the city marketplace had been invited to the castle for the day.
There were the grim-looking Orelli nobles and their servants, clinging still to their sense of propriety even if they had come to accept a different monarch. The range of Theoli, from the haggard petitioners to beleaguered messengers to cheery and energetic aides. Even a few Kyrvi in their distinctive colorful garb, who must’ve been there on behalf of their traveling band. None of them immediately turned to look at Kavi. No one shouted that he didn’t belong. Most didn’t turn from their tasks to even acknowledge him, even if they did spare a nod or smile for Lady Mari.
Lady Mari, meanwhile, seemed to know almost everyone. She could usually greet someone by name as they passed, though she made no eye contact with any of them. It worked well to keep them from being waylaid - or perhaps that was the small stone she held in one hand, carved with something. Kavi may not have been fully up to snuff on his magic symbols, but he at least recognized most of them. This one was an exception, but it must’ve been magic, because Mari was walking as though it was tugging her along.
After a few minutes of a rather sedate pace, Kavi smelled fresh air. A few steps further, and he heard distant birdsong. Mari tucked the runestone away with a deft motion, her steps steady even without it. “This is one of the cloisters - like an interior garden.” She informed Kavi over one shoulder. “I’m not surprised to find her here. Careful of the flowers, please.”
Kavi considered asking for more details. He didn’t think he was likely to get them, about either whomever they were going to meet, or the logic of an interior garden. Then they turned a corner into what might as well have been a square of the meadow outside of the city walls, and he was staring again.
The arches that he knew as decorative on the outer walls were genuine here, partitioning off the covered edges from the open air of the center. Some were fully open, others had a solid stone half-wall, wide enough to sit on comfortably. Matching benches were often present on either side as well; the same stone as the walls and floor but carved into shapes that reminded Kavi of the branches of the lone gnarled oak in his village’s center. The stone continued to form balconies at higher levels - three in all, with the center open to the sky.
In the area protected by all of that stone was green. No genuine trees, but Kavi spotted a few shapes that might’ve been carved stone trunks, latticed to serve as trellis to the variety of plants that claimed the space. Wide leaved ivy and generous ferns lined what stone pathways Kavi could still see, the branches of the stone trees guiding them to form a canopy over the walking paths. And woven through all of them, the flowers.
Some of them he could recognize right off - the blue vervain that hemmed the garden, tucked away between other plants wherever it would fit, or the roses that climbed some of the archways or trunks - but some, like the brilliant pink-and-yellow pinwheeled blossoms, were absolutely foreign to him. Shades of purple, white, yellow, pinks and reds, all dominated this space. As Mari led him through the shaded passageways, he couldn’t help but smile to see it.
“Kavi?” Mari’s voice, and a light touch on his shoulder, made him stop staring. “You aren’t dizzy again, are you?”
Kavi started. “No, no I’m fine.” He assured her, though he couldn’t help craning his neck to look upwards. Those were too thin to be carved stone, and they swayed gently. Wires, perhaps? Or thin, flexible bits of wood? His mother would’ve been fascinated by them.
“Alright.” Mari said, sounding politely unconvinced. She gave him another moment, in which he looked around the room and she watched him as though he may fall over any moment. “Shall we?”
She’d canted her head towards a nearby rose-covered archway, gesturing to it with one hand. Kavi swallowed, and nodded.
He found himself focusing on it as they approached, because that meant not focusing on meeting whoever had brought him here. Whose... bed he’d slept in. The frame of the arch was no larger than most doors, it just didn’t have a - what was the word for it, the top piece? Lentil? That was a vegetable. Anyway it was arched instead, with some delicate woodwork at the top and along the sides, grooves to give way more elegantly than a flat siding. The bright orange of the flower blossoms soaked up the sun and seemed to glow. But then he was through it, and that left him with nothing to distract him from the static at the edges of his vision and thoughts alike.
Mari stopped a few steps past the arch, turning to her right. She didn’t bow or otherwise make a formal greeting, but she was a Lady, and a physician besides, so that left him with absolutely no clue as to what he was meant to do. He did notice that she tilted her head, considering something, but then it was his turn to stop and look at the-
Gold. Gold light. No, it was light reflecting off something. A - a gold cape. That was important. It was part of that song that their instructors had accidentally taught them, one of the ones from the war, about wrath and glory and gold-wreathed flame-
“General.” Kavi said hoarsely, sinking to one knee. Knights knelt, right? He wasn’t one yet. Did that matter? And he was a little dizzy, so it was probably better to be closer to the floor. Ground. He couldn’t hear whatever was said next, or figure out who said it - all he saw was the scattered orange rose petals on the path stone tiles, and all he heard was the blood rushing in his ears.
Ilmira. She had no last name, not that he’d ever heard. Some called her Ilmira Theosa, giving her the last name the twin monarchs had taken, but that was only in formal settings. He remembered stories of pillars of flame a mile high, burning words of warning taunting enemy commanders. His parents, lighting candles at night, whispering prayers for the flame-made-flesh to keep their home safe. Debates on whether she was even mortal, or a godsform come to liberate them.
He had heard, of course, that she was ill. The last battle of Theolin’s independence had taken her fire, given it back to their people. There were whispers she was nothing now, no hero at all. Perhaps she never had been. But legends were never easily dismissed by those who had once believed in them.
“Your fealty is recognized, Kavi Thergoode. You may rise - and sit again if you wish.” Her voice was smoother than he’d expected. It wasn’t wispy or crackling like smoke or fire, or the rattle of someone who was about to breathe their last. The tone was slightly cool, but that seemed a matter of formality more than anything. His heart stuttered at the sound anyway.
Unsteadily, he straightened on reflex, blinking rapidly. When the ringing in his ears faded and he could focus again, he noticed Mari was gone. Alarmed, he looked back at the hero of the realm without thinking, probably looking like a startled deer.
He was still having trouble processing past the cloth of gold draped over her shoulder, but he could see now that she seemed... well, normal. Her skin was only a shade lighter than his own, with dark eyes under darker brows. Her hair was the same, cut short by court standards, in that it didn’t quite brush her shoulders.
And her expression seemed... kind. A bit worried. Maybe a bit tired. She raised her brows a bit at his staring, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. One hand idly twirled a sprig of lavender. Then she held out her hand.
“Would it help to see if I’m real?” She asked politely, warmth infused in her tone now. It was the kind of thing he would’ve asked another of his old friends back in the village if he caught them gawking. Something about that loosened his shoulders a bit, and let him relax enough to move to sit on the other bench.
Perched, of course, with his hands carefully in his lap and his shoulders inevitably hunched, but at least he was no longer standing there dumbly. He cleared his throat, “Ah, no, General.”
She withdrew her hand, seeming unperturbed. “I would say you could call me Ilmira - but I try not to make a habit of asking impossible things.” The soft smile returned again, a kind of humor that invited him to smile in turn. It took the flaw that was his, an inability to handle a situation, and made it her own somehow. Kavi was torn between relaxing and apologizing. Instead, he just blinked.
Ilmira tilted her head, the movement stirring the gold cloak again and sending the reflected light dancing around the greenery. Then she let out a breath, running her free hand back through her hair and mussing it again. She studied him, as he stared blankly at her. “I’ve no idea where to begin.” She admitted.
Kavi blinked again. He searched for something to say, and found his mouth had beaten him to it. “You’d make a terrible kidnapper, my Lady.”
Internally, he wanted to go back to running on the track until he passed out again. But externally, he sat there, staring into the middle distance for what felt like an eternity, until he realized Ilmira had snorted.
Kavi looked up to see her holding the back of one hand at her mouth. “Alright.” She said around it, laughter bubbling in her voice. “That’s fair.”
Ilmira cleared her throat, and lowered her hand back to her lap. “I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or apologize for it.” She remarked. “But I’m optimistic today, so I’ll take the former. Though-“ She seemed to suppressing a smile, “- I am curious as to what led you to that conclusion.”
Bereft of anything that felt clever or appropriate, Kavi said the first coherent sentence that came to mind. “You picked the wrong target.”
When Ilmira waited for him to continue, even as the silence stretched past when most people would’ve spoken again, Kavi elaborated, “I’m - er, not worth much of a ransom. That wasn’t - I didn’t intend to threaten you, General.”
“I didn’t feel threatened.”
“Right.” Kavi shuffled, finally dragging his eyes away from the gold cloak - though personally he’d call it a shawl, or maybe a wrap? - in favor of staring at the plants around them. He wondered where she’d gotten the lavender sprig. “I just meant that I’m not particularly suitable for any task people are generally kidnapped for, except, well.”
Kavi tilted his head, “I suppose if you were looking for a murder victim, I’d do fairly well.” He said it matter-of-factly, because this was a theoretical, so he’d give it consideration. “Not many to miss me, and you could probably fit my body under that sweet alyssum.” He nodded to the plant in question, admiring the variety of white and purple blossoms.
Ilmira hummed. “Not the bleeding hearts?” She gestured towards the plant she meant - a bush of large, arrow shaped green leaves. The mature ones had paled, and had pink-to-crimson creeping out of their centers and down the veins. They seemed to ‘bleed out’ over time. Kavi remembered something about them being considered a memorial ‘flower’ for the battlefield dead.
“No.” He decided. “For one, I’m no veteran. For two, I’d be too soggy for them and wind up killing the plant.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or just humoring me.”
Kavi shrugged, a little self-consciously. “If you decided to kill me, General, there’s not much I could do about it.” He pointed out. “But if you do, then at least I’ll feed the flowers.”
He could hear the frown in her voice when she asked, “Do you believe I’m going to kill you?”
“No.” Kavi admitted. He still hadn’t turned back to look at her, though he had wound up stuck on the roses again. He mostly knew of them from description or drawings, and these were much larger than he’d expected.
On the other end of the bench, Ilmira sighed. “Good. I’ve never liked the idea of teaching through fear.” He couldn’t see her, but he could see her boots as she crossed one ankle over the other. “You seem to know your plants fairly well.”
“My mother gardened.” Kavi explained. “We didn’t keep many flowers for flowers sakes, but she did like them. She’s still got rhododendrons, I think, and a few begonias.”
“Still?” Ilmira echoed, “She survived the war, then?”
“Oh.” Kavi realized why Ilmira might be asking about his family, and glanced back at her. “I’m not from near the border. I’m from Mossign.” When Ilmira looked pensive, he added helpfully, “South of Mt. Kyora, other side of the Hariads from Aspenvale? It’s pretty small, so we didn’t get hurt too badly by anything but the hunger.”
“Ah.” Ilmira seemed to place it then, though Kavi felt there was a good chance she was just pretending to know what he meant. He didn’t really mind. “You’re Hariadi, then?”
Kavi hesitated. “Half.” He said after a moment. It was the simplest answer, and not untrue.
Luckily, Ilmira didn’t press him on it. “I’m sorry to hear of your family’s troubles. I hope they resolve quickly, if they have not been already. Do you know if there are supplies they would need now?”
The question stumped Kavi for a few minutes. He’d been away from home for over a year, and hadn’t sent or received any letters during that time. No one else in the Order’s trainees were from Mossign, though two came from Aspenvale. Neither of them had mentioned regional troubles…
“Grain.” He said finally. “It’s the hardest one for us to get our hands on, really. There aren’t many fields good for it on the outer crescent, though we usually have enough to get by. And half the time merchants try to transport it to us, it gets ruined by the mountain damp. And…” He hesitated again, before forging ahead, “and if you’d be willing to send them some seeds or clippings for these-“ he nodded to the nearest giant rose blossom, “- I think they would appreciate it greatly.”
Ilmira had watched him as he spoke, and he was uncomfortably aware of the weight of her gaze. “For your mother?”
Kavi shook his head. “No. Well, yes, she might keep them, but I actually, er…” He sighed. “For the village dedicate.”
Speaking of Hariadi traditions always felt awkward. Most thought of them as superstitious at best, and dangerous at worst. Kavi also didn’t feel he was the best authority on them, so he half expected someone to jump out and catch him on something he related incorrectly or accuse him of heresy.
Ilmira, however, nodded. “Ah. To brighten her house further. I personally have no qualms, but you’d have to speak to the gardener. I believe these roses are a specific breed, meant for offerings to Elder Sister.”
Kavi frowned. “Never mind then.” Bitter Anger was not, by her nature, a forgiving goddess. The brightness of a garden like this might’ve cheered her - but to see offerings dedicated to the elder sun goddess instead would’ve risked the opposite effect.
“I’m certain we could find something.” Ilmira said instead, scanning the garden. “And the grain is a given. All of the trainees will be given shares to take home before harvest season, but I wanted to be sure we were addressing the actual needs instead of what we assumed.”
Kavi was reminded, abruptly, of why he’d feared this conversation in the first place. “Ah.” He bit his lip. “Thank you for the opportunity to train, General.”
Next to him, Ilmira paused. She leaned forward then, bracing on her knees, attempting to make eye contact with him - or perhaps just to see his face. “You do not sound pleased.” She noted.
Kavi stopped biting his lip, and instead bit the inside of his cheek. He forced a quick smile, because his problems were not Ilmira’s. “I know I’m not cut out for it.” He deferred, surprised at how much it hurt to say it aloud.
“Mari didn’t tell you.” Ilmira said it like it was confirmation, before shifting on the bench. “Kavi - while you are welcome to return home for the season, like the others, I admit I’d prefer it if you’d be willing to stay here in Theosa.”
Kavi blinked. “There’s… no real reason for me to go back. But, with what happened earlier…?” He was incredibly confused now, but the hope that blossomed in his core threatened to be overwhelming.
Ilmira let out a long, slow breath. “Yes, we should talk about that. Mari wouldn’t have brought you out here if you weren’t feeling somewhat recovered, which is the only reason I haven’t asked after your health.” She noticed the flicker of confusion on Kavi’s face, and added, “I was present this morning, when you collapsed.”
She smiled again, a brief grin meant to reassure him, before turning more solemn and inclining her head. “Though, you do have my apologies for startling you. I may have.. overreacted a bit. I wanted to ensure you were seen by Mari, and most of her supplies for our ailment are here. I’d also hoped to spare you overwhelming by nurses or gawkers, though I realize waking up in a strange place can’t have been reassuring.” She frowned then, though not at Kavi. “I should make it clear - you’re free to leave any time you like, and no debt is owed.” Her voice was firm enough that Kavi couldn’t help nodding.
“My Lady - General, I - I fear I may have misled you.” He apologized, brow knitting. “My... weakness is not the result of any illness or disease.” It hurt to say, but it would’ve been far worse to lie to her.
Ilmira perked a single brow.
“I’m simply not athletic.” He explained. “Never have been - ‘drought-born’ and all. And I don’t keep to my work as I should. All things told I’m... well I’m rather weak willed.” He couldn’t watch her anymore, instead returning to staring at the stones. “I’m grateful for your aid, and the chance to meet you, but-“
Ilmira’s voice cut in, gentle, “How many people do you know who would run themselves into exhaustion?”
Kavi stopped, and thought about it. “Well.. most of the recruits in the Order. It’s part of our training.”
Ilmira cocked her head to one side, “to the point of unconsciousness? Knowingly?”
Kavi frowned, “They know their limits better.” He argued. “And they’re stronger, they don’t need to.”
Ilmira hummed. “All of the weak willed I’ve known would have given up long before they reached such exhaustion.” She said quietly. A glint shimmered in her eyes, “And none of them would’ve dared argue with me.”
Kavi stopped for a moment, mouth agape. “Wh- Well no, I-“ before he could find a coherent combination of syllables, Ilmira chuckled.
“I’m not offended.” She said mildly. “I actually prefer it when people challenge me. It makes sure I've thought things through. And you’re right - I could be quite wrong. But I also think there’s a chance I could be right. Will you at least hear me out?”
Kavi frowned, shifting on the hard bench. He thought it over, looking for a trap. “Alright.” He said finally.
Ilmira’s gaze sharpened, became intent. Kavi found he couldn’t look away. “You mentioned you’ve never been athletic. I’m guessing that was worse during the summer months, that you couldn’t quite cool down, no matter what you did?”
Kavi’s frown deepened.
“And the opposite in the winter. When it would feel as though you’d never be warm again.”
“That’s just the seasons.”
“Is it?” Ilmira asked. “Your hands and feet are always cold, even when it’s hot out, aren’t they? Enough sometimes they turn a little bit purple. But you don’t sweat much either.”
“How do you know all of this?” He demanded, hands braced at the edges of the bench as though he’d like to rise and leave. Ilmira held up a hand, staying him.
“And you cannot stand without your vision going spotty, or narrowing.” Her voice had dropped lower, now almost a whisper. “Sometimes perhaps your hearing dulls, and for a moment you fear you’ve gone deaf.”
For a moment, all Kavi could do was stare. When he found his voice again, it cracked as he protested, “Those things just happen sometimes.”
“They do.” Ilmira agreed. “But for you, they happen every time. I know what it's like, Kavi. I know that exhaustion. I’ve felt it every day of my life too.”
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