Tatiana,
on your eighteenth birthday
I
"Well," Ashley said after a long moment of nervous silence, "the city is big, we have plenty of time, not to mention even more ideas. Maybe you could compromise?"
Apricot and Gabriel simultaneously burst out laughing, looking at each other with disgust. The girl shook her extravagant hairstyle and frowned menacingly.
"Sister dear," she began, fixing Ashley with a look of superiority. "If you really want us to compromise, maybe you'll give up your ideas?"
"Me?" the woman snorted, placing her hands on her hips. "It's not me who can't reconcile!
" "But you're the reason we're arguing," Gabriel remarked sarcastically, raising one dark eyebrow. Ashley snorted.
"Then maybe we should split up?" she suggested, shrugging. "After all, I have to spend at least two hours at that stylist's, and in that time you could be wandering around Randerwound on your own.
" "Absolutely not," Gabriel said, fixing his older sister with a flat gaze. "Certainly not now, after everything that's going on. Besides, you can't send that brat anywhere unattended, she'll sell her soul to the devil to buy some trinket.
" "Not at all!" Apricot protested immediately. "And stop calling me brat, you idiot!"
Gabriel made a martyr's face, crossing his arms. The eldest looked at the other two condescendingly.
"Okay, I guess you're right about that... In that case, I think the best solution would be to go to that bookstore first..." Ashley paused to calm Apricot, who was already getting up to put her two cents in where it didn't belong. "We'll go to the bookstore first, Gabriel will buy what he needs, and then we'll go to the markets... Well, then all we're left with is my stylist right before the premiere.
" "And why are you the only one going to a stylist? You'd get it into that thick head of yours that you have a teenage woman as your sister and she needs to change her hairstyle every now and then too!" Apricot was practically panting with anger, her coffee-colored skin darkening from all the blood rushing to her face. Gabriel, hearing her wail, shook his head in disbelief and covered his eyes with his hand.
"A teenage woman," Ashley hissed, narrowing her eyes, "as you put it, doesn't use such vulgar language. Now get your asses going, because if we're going to get this all done today, we'll have to hurry."
Apricot, muttering curses under her breath that would have done a full-blooded sailor proud, dug her hands into her pockets and followed her departing sister, her eyes flashing at anyone who dared look her way. Gabriel, without thinking, followed them, quickly catching up with his eldest sibling and engaging in another small, important conversation about today's premiere.
Randerwound, the capital of Seeladon, was swelled with the number of petty nobility, townspeople, and servants who flocked to the city at all hours of the day and night. Posters advertising Ashley's playwriting debut had been posted to all four corners of Gemn, and everyone seeking cheap entertainment and spectacle flocked to Violet Hill. The building next to the theater where the play was to be performed was bustling with activity. Rehearsals were probably still underway on the stone stage, and the young Marshmally sisters, who played the main roles, were busy applying their make-up and makeup. It wasn't long before the premiere, and a large crowd was likely gathering at the theater entrance.
The siblings from Vihara, having completely free tickets, decided to explore the city. From the very beginning, arguments broke out—Gabriel insisted she wouldn't leave Randerwound until she'd at least glanced at his famous bookstore, full of ancient and precious tomes, and Apricot swore she'd kill if she didn't have the chance to browse the various wonders displayed in the stalls of the market located at the back of town. Ashley, as the oldest and most worldly of them, had no particular need, other than, of course, a new hairstyle. She had been to Randerwound and other famous Seeladonian cities more than once, and nothing surprised her. Her brother and sister's excitement amused her, and for the entire time they spent walking along the crowded street, she couldn't wipe the bright smile from her lips.
The city itself was enormous. Wide, easily passable streets, kept clean by a specially formed brigade of prison cleaners—novices and repeat offenders—led to the royal-sized Forum, situated in the very center of the city. This square, the most important point in the entire capital, not to mention the rest of the republic, was above all a place of worship and a kind of temple. The Forum's focal point was the statue of the Wind God, known as Susanoo, placed at its very center. The statue, depicting a young man of extraordinary beauty with flowing hair and holding the Holy Wind in his hand, was surrounded by a series of magical fountains which, instead of crystal-clear water, poured out silver-tinted air, and its streams circled the sculpture, creating a lunar mist around it and giving it the appropriate glow.
It wasn't the first time in Gabriel's twenty years of life that he'd seen such a statue, but he'd never witnessed a marvel from a Seeladonian hand. He'd always wondered what the Wind wielded by Seeladon warriors looked like, and now, seeing it before him, he couldn't believe his eyes. Sure, Bertraam's Fire was impressive, but it didn't even compare to this frenzied rush of air, which played out before his eyes in a spectacle so untamed and incredible that the Viharian began to have some difficulty tearing his gaze away.
Apricot, a girl whose expectations were hard to satisfy, now stood in complete silence, her mouth half-open, her eyes wide and filled with the most sincere delight, gazing at the Holy Wind. This was her first opportunity to see an element other than the one she herself commanded. The girl moved her fingers nervously, tracing the lines on her palm with her fingertips. It was the same hand that touched the rough surface of the earth daily and called it to itself. The same hand that held small lumps of rock between its fingers and felt them speak to it… But anyone could hold a rock in their hand and say the same thing. But few people had fully mastered one of the three immaterial elements, and Wind certainly belonged to that group.
Around the statue knelt gray-skinned Seeladonian priests, dressed in hooded gray robes. Their milky hair flowed gently from the element pooling between their fingers, and their golden eyes gazed into Susanoo's face as he majestically lifted his chin toward the sky. They muttered in ecstasy some completely incomprehensible words, probably prayers, toying with the Wind in their hands.
When a Seeladonian passed through the Forum, they imitated the priests and knelt before the statue, waiting a few seconds before retreating, humility clearly etched on their faces. Gabriel and Apricot watched in fascination.
Ashley's smile widened when she saw their expressions. She didn't protest when neither made any move toward the street where the bookstore was located. She didn't urge them, even when their state of shock extended. Only after a good two minutes did she begin to grow impatient.
"Hey, beautiful people, why don't you get moving? We really don't have that much time to waste," she called out, laughing at the looks they sent her way.
Taking both of their arms, she briskly moved to the right, pulling them away from the Susanoo statue with considerable effort.
Reluctantly, they continued on their way, narrowly avoiding the medley of people roaming the streets of Randeround. Everywhere they turned, there were people of every race, country, and tribe, from Seeladonians to the occasional Shoalin. However, the Shoal people rarely ventured beyond their borders, so their numbers were relatively small compared to the inhabitants of Bertraam, which bordered Seeladon. Apricot's jaw nearly dropped several times as she caught glimpses of the embodiment of beauty: a stunningly handsome elf from the Paeon Forest, calmly conversing with a lined old man with the emblem of the Brotherhood of the Rockies on his leather jacket, or a more comely youth with skin as gray as ashes. Here and there, a Seeladon woman flitted almost unnoticed, her face concealed by scarves and veils. The image of servants toiling away was also a common sight. Randerwound, especially in the hours before the premiere, also had a large presence of their own tribesmen, dark-skinned and dark-haired representatives of the mountainous Vihara, which lay southeast of Seeladon. In short, the city teemed with life the likes of which neither of the younger two-thirds of the siblings had ever witnessed in their entire existence.
"In a word, I'm speechless," Apricot said, looking around eagerly, taking in all the sights with hungry eyes.
"That's three words, not one," Gabriel remarked sarcastically. "But I still have to agree. Vihara is nothing compared to this power.
" "So this is where I'm premiering," Ashley announced cheerfully, her chocolate-colored eyes gleaming. Apricot looked at her as if she were a painting, momentarily forgetting the wonders her own eyes had just witnessed.
"And I still wonder how you managed to secure a performance at La Faérie! It must be the largest theater in all of Gemn."
The playwright merely smiled enigmatically and led them straight to an impressive building with snow-white walls, adorned with a huge runic inscription in Bertraamese. Gabriel, well-versed in the island's official literary language, allowed himself a small smile and entered the bookstore famed throughout Gemn, instantly understanding why it was so praised.
The room was spacious, though kept in a gloomy atmosphere. The floor, lined with faded wooden panels, was covered with a square carpet of dark burgundy, and the furniture—a wide counter with a writing desk and countless shelves filled with volumes—was carved from cherry wood.
The standard-sized windows, from ceiling to floor, were partially covered with heavy curtains for the city, giving the bookstore a dark and mysterious atmosphere. Gabriel drank in the sight with hungry eyes.
"What is it with bibliophiles and dark places?" Apricot murmured, unconsciously lowering her voice to a whisper and scanning the room with a suspicious gaze. Ashley barely suppressed a giggle, instead observing Gabriel's sinister, narrowed eyes as he shot the youngest an irritated glance.
The bookstore looked deserted, but no salesperson was obsessed enough to leave their shop open. Gabriel, still drinking in the sweet sight of the mass of books surrounding him, refused to worry about such minor details as the owner's absence. Without thinking, he charged forward, attacking the first shelf he came across, leaving both sisters stranded in the middle of the carpet.
As he expected, all the titles were in Batraam, picturesque runes exquisitely etched into the leather in gold, silver, or bronze script. Running his fingertips along the spines, the Vihari shifted slightly to the right, inhaling the fantastic scent of old, dusty pages. Less than two minutes later, he disappeared among the forest of shelves, seeing only thousands of different, fascinating titles before him. Less than half a minute passed before he was drowned in a sea of titles and captivated by the solemnity of this divine place.
A voice snapped him out of his trance.
"I beg your pardon, but you're not allowed in here without permission."
He whirled around and found himself face to face with the girl, who was sneering at him over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses. He opened his mouth to speak, took a deep breath, stammered, and closed it again, unable to find the right words.
"I'd advise you to get out of here as soon as possible before I have to call for help," the girl remarked maliciously, raising both eyebrows and gesturing in the direction he'd come from. "Oh, there's the exit."
Then, without looking back, she walked past him, clutching several large books to her chest. Gabriel followed, completely dismayed.
They reached the counter in silence, where Ashley and Apricot stood, deep in conversation.
"Oh, look, the handsome one's back," the younger of the two laughed. "Did you find anything…?"
She broke off when her gaze fell on the girl, who, scowling at all three of them, unceremoniously placed the books on the counter and leaned against it, leaning forward.
"How can I help you?" she asked coldly, giving them another scowl.
"What nice service," Apricot muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
- Service is nice - the girl said sharply - when customers follow the store's rules.
The youngest of the group was about to speak, but she stopped herself before she could, only now noticing a large sign on the wall across the counter, prohibiting entry into the aisles without a bookstore employee. Apricot cleared her throat and lowered her gaze.
The girl's pale face, dotted with the occasional freckle, darkened even further. It was obvious she was from either Shibai or the Rocky Mountains, but Gabriel didn't want to make any hasty guesses. Her waist-length, fluffy brown hair was partially pulled up, and she wore a simple, long-sleeved black dress with silver trim on the cuffs.
"I'd like to purchase a book on hypotheses about pre-ancient times," he said suddenly, surprising her with his flat tone. He didn't follow Apricot's example and kept his eyes fixed. This surprised her too, but a moment later she nodded stiffly and emerged from behind the counter, leading him through the maze of shelves and stopping in front of one.
"I recommend 'The Roots of Our Roots' by Valance Maracce and 'From Here to the Past' by Wolfgang Reive. These are among the latest works on the subject," the girl recited dispassionately, glaring at him. Unperturbed, he walked over to the shelf she was standing by and began rummaging through it, completely unconcerned by the saleswoman standing next to him.
She seemed too young for the position—she didn't look more than eighteen—so he expected her to be some kind of assistant. And there wouldn't be anything strange about it, were it not for the fact that Seeladon, no matter how magnificent, was already legendary for its lack of equality for women. Women didn't work in the truest sense of the word—they usually stayed at home, tending the farm, the children, and in extreme cases, helping their husbands or fathers with the inn. The reason this woman was doing something more productive than searching for a rich husband could be the obvious fact that the girl was certainly not a Seeladonian. Despite this, it was common knowledge throughout Gemn that working women didn't migrate to Seeladon because their chances of finding employment were slim.
Gabriel ignored her recommended books and began scanning the titles, searching for the one he'd been searching for for a good year. None of the Vihar shops were as well-stocked as this one, so he wasn't at all surprised when a copy of this particular work appeared before his eyes. Carefully, almost reverently, he picked up the leather-bound tome and pulled it out from between two similar ones.
"Ah, 'The Unmagical Land: The Homeland of Our Ancestors' by Klara von Klaft. An excellent choice," the girl announced dryly, her expression unchanged. "That will be twenty-five thousand Seeladonian crowns. Is there anything else I can help with?"
The high price disconcerted him somewhat, but he managed to hide it behind a mask of indifference. "
No, thank you, that's all."
The girl nodded silently and, without a word of explanation, moved toward the counter again. Once behind the massive wooden piece of furniture, she reached for the book.
"Wrap it?
" "Please."
With a deft movement, she pulled a piece of brown paper from a desk drawer and wrapped the volume in it in just a few seconds. Then, without hesitation, she pulled a small, black leather-bound notebook from another drawer and wrote something in it using a sharpened quill pen. Gabriel handed her the required sum with a somewhat heavy heart, and she hid it in a locked cabinet. Handing him the package, she smiled for the first time since he'd seen it, though it looked very forced and fake.
"Have a nice day, and come back."
They left very quickly.
"I wonder what's gotten into her..." Apricot wondered, frowning. Gabriel shook his head slightly.
"I have no idea, but I'm not particularly interested either.
" "You're right," the teenager agreed. "If a girl wants to spoil her mood, I don't stop her. So, are we going to the markets?"
Gabriel shrugged, and Ashley laughed and shook her head in disbelief.
"That's the only thing you can think about?"
"Sure," Apricot said, indignant. "With you as a sister, I have a really slim chance of getting a husband, so I have to resort to anything that attracts attention.
" "And this one's about husbands again," Gabriel sighed, and the girl elbowed him in the ribs.
"Be careful what you say, it could backfire."
The man looked down at her.
"You're joking, right? What are you going to do to me? Throw sand in my eyes?
" "And you want to get hit over the head?!"
Gabriel fell silent.
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