The Winds of Change (Cecilia, 2nd)

Silvertongued

Silvertongued

Yes, this is dog
<p>


<strong>Y.D. 183, 5th of Sunsear, late morning Arrington Spire, Upper Levels, Cryolyte Holdings</strong> "No, no, no!" squawks Remus, waving his walking stick threateningly. "You need to be able to react almost instantly, and with the appropriate response!" The orb in front of you continues its random spikes of color and intensity, the rough chime of failure still ringing in your ears. Your hands still hover above the myriad swarm of polished disks, trembling slightly in their readiness. "You need to eliminate your need for thought in your reactions, to instead act on instinct. But first, you must hone that instinct," continues the old man, lowering his voice, but continuing the tone of dismissal. "That is why you hesitate, that is why you act frantically, that is why your hands tremble. Touch the correct disk to counter the color of the orb," He sighs, leaning forward on his chair, hands and bearded chin resting on the handle of the thin icy spur that serves as his walking stick. Remus has been teaching you the basics of magical combat for a few months now, ever since you managed to convince your father that you needed them. It took some additional cajoling from your mother, and you still feel as though he doesn't approve of the class, especially for a "young woman approaching marriageable age" but he's allowed them nonetheless. Remus is your father's uncle, younger brother of the Matriarch. He's old and crotchety, bald on top with a trim beard and bent spine, and quite frankly, the most aggressively large eyebrows you've ever seen on a human being. He's supposed to be one of the most powerful cryolytes in the Spire, second only to your grandmother, and survivor of over a dozen battle campaigns across the years. You haven't seen him do magic once, nor display physical aptitude beyond a limp and swing. An errant breeze across your bare neck reminds you of the absence of Helmine. The serpent had been disallowed from the old man's presence ever since she asked him that if he frowned, would the two caterpillars serving as his eyebrows eat each other. His response had been less than amused. "One more time," croaks Remus, waving his hand.


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Cecilia inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, flexing her fingers to start again. She'd reacted quickly and decisively against three Spirewolves, why could she not get down a stupid colour game to be able to move onto her next lessons. Opting out was not an option because, one, she needed to know how to protect herself and others if she was going to pursue studies outside of the Spire, two, she knew the women of her family were just as good at Cryolytry as the men if not better, wasn't her grandmother the Matriarch? She would prove she could do this!


And three, after pestering her father so much, she wouldn't be able to live it down if she gave up. Frustrating as it was, she trusted her great-uncle's experience. Asking for lessons from her Grandmother might have been a little too frightening after the whole display with her ex-cousin. Still, one day, she wanted those reaction times to be able to deflect bullets away...


She missed Helmine but she was a distraction when trying to focus on lessons. She couldn't focus if she was trying not to laugh at everything she came out with. She loved Helmine for it though.


Don't think. React. Like with the wolves. She told herself.


"Ready." She said out loud.


[dice]1455[/dice]


[dice]1459[/dice]
 
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The orb hums, then lights suddenly. Your fingers find the correct disk without thought. Silence. Abrubtly, the orb flickers once more, and you respond again with both speed and clarity. Again and again this occurs, your mind completely blank save the task at hand, until finally there's a chime, and orb goes dull.


"Well then, I do believe you're learning," says Remus, still leaning on his stick. "With that little display, I'd say that should be all for today. I'll have something slightly more interesting prepared for you next week. You may go,"
 
"Thank you, sir." Cecilia smiles at him, relieved to get something of slight praise this time around. A big improvement from more shaking of the head and the 'We'll try again next time's she'd had before. She curtsies politely to her great-uncle and gathers her things to leave and return to her room.
 
Outside, Dell is waiting for you, Helmine in hand.


The girl has changed much from the lanky adolescent of last year. She still stands taller than you by a head, and while she remains lithe, it is no longer the gawky gracelessness of a newborn colt, but the slim, toned physique of an athlete. There's precious little fat on Dell now, and the loss of baby chub from her cheeks has lost her the youthful childishness of a teenager. In its place is the hard jawline of a handsome young woman.


Physically filling out, though more in muscle than in curves, has added to the mature look of a fighter about Dell, something that is definitely enhanced by her augmentation. A pale, sky blue, translucent thing, replacing the entire arm from fingers to shoulder blade, its subtly articulated joints moved silently, with a dexterity rivaling that of any born limb. Inscribed geometric patterns, reminiscent of the fractal nature of snowflakes, circle its length, stopping just sort of the socket joint.


Helmine, in contrast, has changed little in the year, at least in appearance, though in attitude has begun cultivating something reminiscent of a certain Dellebron. Her blunt comments are still tinged with a kind of willful, ignorant innocence, enough so that those she "inadvertently" insults pass it off as nothing more than the learning processes of a child, something you'd almost be inclined to believe. But then you see that devious little sparkle in her sea green eyes, and you can't help but wonder.


Both Helmine and Dell of them have created some friendly rivalry, a thing of words mostly, though they tolerate each others presence far easier than when they originally met. That said, sometimes you believe them to be doing nothing but putting friendly faces on in your presence, then fighting like cats and dogs in your absence.


Dell grins at you, brown eyes sparkling, and says something, something you barely hear. As she does so, your ward winces with realisation, stepping more towards your left side so that you may hear you better. Your injuries from the incident are not quite as visual as Dell's lost arm, but the scars remain all the same. Your balance returned some weeks after their infliction, aided with medicines and some small physiotherapy. The hearing on the other hand, never has. Apparently, there are steps being taken to acquire the services of a Communer doctor in order to fully repair the damage, but envoys are slow, and skilled Communers often unwilling to travel.


"You had spent so long in there Miss Cecilia that I beginning to think that either Master Remus was holding you hostage, or you had completely forgotten about Dellebron Urteal's scheduled arrival today," she tells you with a smile.
 
Cecilia smiles back, taking Helmine from Dell and into her hands, petting the serpent who she missed through her lessons. She's grown as well in the last year, somewhat in height, though Dell has very much beaten her in that department. She's heard the passing comments from those who visit and the servants when finishing dressing her for formal dinners about how much she's grown, how beautiful they say she's becoming. Of course, most of them have had the annoying addition of something related to some lucky husband-to-be and the like which immediately turned her off further conversation and eavesdropping.


Maybe not so drastic in her changes as Dell but certainly she's becoming less child and more woman.


"Just determined to make some progress before leaving my lesson today." She grins, letting Helmine settle where she would. "I hope you two have been getting along today. Have I missed much?"
 
Your retainer shakes her head, though the serpent nods vigorously, leading to a standoffish staring contest between the two.


"...no," intones Dell slowly, at exactly the same time that Helmine replies with "...yes,"


"I'm telling you it was nothing,"


"Even nothing is something,"


"Not if it really is nothing,"


"Which it isn't,"


"Says the talking icicle,"


"Says the fleshy skyscraper,"
 
Cecilia laughs at the two of them, tickling Helmine under her chin affectionately and starting to walk with Dell, keeping her on the side she can actually hear her on.


"Well, you both might have a point but that of course means something has happened of which I am unaware. I've been in lessons all morning and deserve to hear some news, don't I? Given I'll have to get all dressed up again shortly and listen more of 'You look so grown up, Lady Arrington.' 'You look just like your mother when she was your age.' 'Who will that lucky man be who wins your hand?'." She rolls her eyes.


"So, if you would, please humour me with some gossip, would you?" She sighs, giving them both pleading looks.
 
"Well, the tall girl was going to visit your father-" starts Helmine, only to be cut off by Dell.


"-and I overheard that he was sending envoys out to other spires..." interrupts your retainer, a pained look on the girls face. "...for the purpose of looking for potential suitors,"
 
Cecilia sighs heavily. "I can't say I'm surprised but I was hoping he wouldn't at least until I turn eighteen. He's already gotten my two older sisters married off, why the big rush for me?" She shakes her head. "I mean, I'm the youngest. What does it matter who I marry... and I'd rather marry for love than be part of some business arrangement. I feel like an asset rather than a person." She frowns, scrunching up her nose in disgust.


"Besides, I want to go do things once I've completed my studies here. Meet new people, learn new things, see the world, find out its mysteries..." She adds, rather wistfully. "Maybe if I'm lucky he won't find any."
 
"I'm sorry Miss Cecilia," says Dell, looking away. "This is why I didn't want to tell you,"


"I believe Cecilia, would have wanted to know regardless, and this is why I did want to tell her," counters Helmine, in a manner far too smug for someone without lips.


Your bodyguard shrugs weakly.


"On the bright side Miss Ceilia, they're only envoys. I don't think Lord Arrington is planning to get you married just yet. There's still meeting the suitors, picking through the suitors, denying multiple suitors, checking which has the most ample trade routes, haggling over dowry," lists your retainer. "The whole affair could take years to go through if you stall it right,"


"You could always just run away," suggests the snake, earning her a death glare from Dell.
 
"No, Dell has a point." Cecilia nods. "I mean...I will get to meet them and who knows, maybe one of them will be the person I find myself to love." She shrugs her shoulders. "Still. Stalling it would give me time to get to know possible suitors. Running away would destroy not only my reputation but that of the family."


She pets Helmine. "I don't like arranged marriage, not to mention my mother and father got to choose each other... I want my marriage to be for love too. Liza was the eldest of us so her marriage was very important to the family and Trish not having Cryolytry meant they wanted her to be secure in her future." She reaches her room at last and smiles at them both. "Still, at least I'll have you both here to help me, right? No need to fret over it now. We have a friend arriving shortly."
 
Helmine nods in appreciation.


"Master Snow and Sky," she hisses, eyes half closed in contentedness.


"Master Dellebron should be arriving at the dock within the hour, Miss Cecilia," Dell informs you. "If you'd like to prepare for his landing, then I'd suggest we make haste,"
 
Cecilia beams at Dell. "Well, then we shall make haste." She agrees, opening the door to her room and quickly depositing her lesson materials on her desk.


More books and notebooks have been added to her collection over the last year, she's beginning to run out of neat storage space. Of course, it doesn't stop the maids from trying and they still keep trying to tidy up her desk.
 
Helmine makes herself rather at home on your desk as you change, and Dell preoccupies herself with idly checking that her pistol is in perfect working order.


Since the incident and her recovery, your retainer has taken the utmost priority in your safety, carrying a medium grade cryocaster with her at all times. You suspect that she might even sleep with the thing, but she's been less than forthcoming with that information. Still, you've met her at the practice range several times, and her skill at hitting moving targets with shards of frozen ice is impressive.


You've a considerable number of dresses to choose between, and Dell is on hand to help you dress should your attire have corsetry or other interesting barriers to its donning.
 
Thankfully, the dress Cecilia chooses is not too difficult in putting on, the corset of simpler design and needing little more than a few small tugs she can manage herself before requesting Dell help her tie it off. The dress is dark blue at the top, fading into lighter shades down the skirt and arms before hemming in white fur around the end of the skirt and sleeves. She loosens her curls, pinning them back at the front just enough to be out of her face and then slips on a shawl for the outdoors. The outfit is pretty but it's certainly one of her more comfortable ones.


"Ready!" She tells Dell, picking up Helmine to drape her around her shoulders, then sweeping her hair back over the serpent.
 
Dell nods with a chuckle.


"Lookin' good Miss Cecilia," she tells you.


Helmine simply circles your shoulders, hiding the majority of her curves underneath your shawl, her head peeking out at your shoulder.


Your retainer looks to the timepiece on the wall, pursing her lips.


"Master Dellebron should be arriving anytime now. We can wait at the port if you'd like," offers the girl.
 
"Why not? It'll be boring just standing around here." Cecilia laughs, adjusting her shawl and petting Helmine's head.


"Let's head to the port and see what's happening there." She heads to the door of her room, so glad to be excused from any afternoon classes for the arrival of their guest.
 
It's a short trip to the skydock, barely ten minutes walk through the internal corridors. The skydock is much like that day a year ago, with bright, clear skies, and crisp frigid mountain air. The chill is heavy on the wind and even if the cold never bothered you anyway, it's enough to make you pull your shawl that little bit tighter.


As you step out onto the landing pads proper, the appearance of a Stormlord ship on the horizon is a clear indication of your excellent timing. It pulls into a the dock, a slim, spurred thin, exactly the same as it was last time. Furious activity erupts on the dock, workers teeming across the facilities.


Dellebron Urteal steps out onto the deck of the ship. He's much the same as he was before, tall, lithe, coldly handsome in a predatory, alien manner. A pale scar, whiter than his already wan flesh, curls above his left eyebrow, curving up into his hairline. His clothes are of good quality, a long dark blue coat, the edges replete with white embroidery, a pair of steely blue vambraces hugging his forearms. A plain navy waistcoat hugs his torso, with an emerald cravat at his throat. His trousers are simplest of all, simple black things complemented by kneehigh leather boots, as pitch as his pants.


His bodyguard is at his side, quite closely at that, though you cannot blame her with her last experience of Arrington Spire. She looks exactly the same as when you last saw her. Nerissa Snow stands within arms length, bedecked in light armor, hooded and masked, a strange canister snaking into her clothes at her back and a duo of lethal looking pistols at her hip. A plume of condensed air billows from beneath her mask, and her head slowly turns, clearly observing the dock.


Despite your guests arrival, your father doesn't seem to be present, and you severely doubt your mother would greet Urteal here without her husband.
 
So, it seems like she might be the only one of her family so far to greet Urteal on his arrival. She's actually somewhat glad, given how tense things were between her father and Urteal last time.


"Dellebron Urteal!" Cecilia calls out over the noise of the wind and the dock workers, approaching the man and his bodyguard. She smiles cheerfully, waving from the dock to the two standing on the deck. "It is good to see you again!" She beams. "I hope your travels were pleasant."
 
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Urteal inclines his head in the slightest of bows. Snow does not move save for a quick nod.


"Lady Arrington," greets the Dellebron. "My travels were... mostly fine,"


There's a snort from Snow, and another plume of condensation.


"I know where everything is, and the servants and such not should be taking everything to where it is meant to go, so please, walk with me and tell me how you've been," he asks, walking further into the Spire. His retainer trails behind him, hands resting on her belt as she walks.
 
Cecilia glances at Snow for the snort, her smile widening a little. She rather likes his retainer, it's a shame she can't understand her. She turns to walks alongside Urteal, making sure to walk so that he is on her left, where she can hear him.


"It sounds like you've some stories to tell." She laughs softly. "Things have been very normal for the most part since last you were here. My cousins have become very distant, however, since the incident. My studies are going well, I was finally allowed to pick up magical combat some months ago. My father was very reluctant to allow me to take them." She explains.


"I am very much enjoying them." She adds with a grin. "I have a long way to go still but I am making progress."
 
Urteal tilts his head aside, the barest change in his expression, hands clasped behind his back as he walks.


"There's always an assassination attempt somewhere along the line. At this point, they're hardly stories and more statistics," he replies offhandedly.


"What subjects have you been studying as of late?"
 
"You mean aside from the never-ending curriculum of Math, Business and Etiquette?" She rolls her blue eyes a little. "Magical combat, as I mentioned. Then there's my magical construction with architecture, both practical and theoretical. Geography, Poetry, World History in Politics, World History in Magic, which I find incredibly fascinating. Languages, though I'm now considered mostly fluent in Tradestounge and I'm rapidly picking up Urd..." She reeled off.


"Mother also insisted I take up 'ladylike' activities to counter the magical combat so I'm trying to cope with Interior Design and Embroidery as well." She sighs. "But it was the only compromise I could make to keep Father happy. Which makes no sense to me. I don't think I've ever heard of my grandmother doing Embroidery. I just can't picture it."
 
"I doubt you're learning the best of Urd unless you're learning from a congenital speaker," chuckles Urteal, shaking his head. "Sithri knows what kind of strange accent and deplorable pronunciation you're picking up,"


"As for Gwyneira learning embroidery..." the Dellebron grimaces, eyes misting over in memory. "No. No, the Matriarch Arrington was never one for anything quite like that,"
 
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