Emilee didn't like funerals. Usually they were pompous affairs for people she didn't know and she felt rather like an intruder. But here she was, Elanora helping style her hair into a braided crown while she glumly anticipated the funeral of the five Eseterrians.
She still remembered the festival like it was yesterday. Then again, it had only been two days ago. She and Elanora had strolled through the winter garden, tasting delicacies from foreign countries and laughing at straight couples who were making a fool of themselves. Of course she wasn't about to generalise all straight people, but the male courtiers that tried to woo their lady by tossing a horseshoe and failed were high quality entertainment. Elanora especially enjoyed it when the woman then succeeded first try and the men went off sulking, whereas Emilee couldn't help but pity the women. Why did society have to produce such petty creatures?
Elanora detached her fingers from Emilee's hair, then slid on her grey gloves.
'Grey is so vile. Stupid dress codes.'
Anything related to Eseterrians and the five spirits had an unnecessarily complicated dress code. In the case of a funeral, those who had little to do with the Eseterrians were forced to wear grey, while the priests wore black and the perfectly displayed corpses would wear white. Their closest circles were permitted to dress in grey and the respective Eseterrian's colour of choice. In Emilee's opinion, it just encouraged conflict. On the other hand, Ela didn't actually mind it being complicated, she was just sulking because she wasn't in one of the closer circles.
'You look stunning in anything,' Emilee reassured her sister.
'You know you're basically complimenting yourself. Lili would be disgusted,' her twin teased glumly.
Emilee's smile vanished as she remembered their deceased adoptive mother. Elanora guiltily pursed her lips, then squeezed her hand. 'Come on. We'll be late.'
'Don't you want to be fashionably late?'
'It's not a party,' Elanora scolded her.
Emilee was reminded of how fiercely Ela believed in the five spirits that had created Cines. Sure, Emilee believed in the spirits, but the whole Eseterrian thing sometimes felt like a trick. It was too similar to Avi's Enfanta, yet they were told she was an imposter. What was so different here?
The two courtiers left their small room and headed towards the Aedrum of the Five Spirits. There was a steady stream of lowly courtiers walking through the corridors. These hallways were some of the least ornate in the grand palace, reserved for those of lowest standing, but their walls were still covered in faded paintings. They weren't as illuminated as other corridors and were common places for the higher courtiers to steal away for secret kisses or death threats. On occasion, the Sato twins would leave their door slightly open, just enough to see the shadows dancing across the wall and listen to the incriminating whispers. Emilee felt like she was intruding, but adored the romance of it all. Elanora, on the other hand, mentally took note of the occurrences. Knowledge was power in this court and with Emilee and Elanora falling further and further down the hierarchy, who knew when such knowledge would come in handy.
The hallway joined one of the main halls and revealed the occasional person wearing traces of a spirit's colour. Some of the gowns were more elegant with delicate trims and expensive fabrics. Emilee smiled dreamily. She'd love to dress in rare silks, though it was enough of an honour to be able to wear simple gowns. Lili hadn't had to adopt the two girls, but she had, transporting them into a world of balls and intrigue.
It was a sight to behold. As tragic as the occasion was, Emilee couldn't help but marvel at everything. Evidently a painter had also found the sight worth capturing. He slouched in a chair, a paintbrush dangling from his right hand and a colour palette resting in his left. His blue hair caught Emi off guard, not to mention the scorched skin surrounding an eyepatch.
Emilee escaped her sister's side and approached him. 'It's beautiful, isn't it?'
The man shrugged. 'I guess so. If you want a commission, there's a waiting list.'
'Oh, no, that's not why I came over here.' She flushed.
'Then why did you come?'
Emilee grew redder still. 'Well, I feel that the beauty of the spectacle is lost on many who take this all for granted. I wanted to speak to another who recognises the wonder of it all, though I guess if it's a mere commission, it may have been a wasted journey. Then again, I'd love to see how you've recreated it with oil paints.'
She could have sworn she saw the hints of a smile tugging at his lips when he gestured at her to come over. Rather phlegmatically he explained, 'So far I've just sketched it out and that's all I plan to do today. That rough figure there, that's going to be the madame who wants to project herself as the prettiest belle at the funeral.'
'If you're not planning on painting today, why get out the colours?'
'It's part of my artistic process, you know,' he said nonchalantly.
Emilee wasn't sure how she felt about that and just summoned her courtier's smile. Why was she being so judgemental? The artistic process was something sacred, she had no right to cast judgement over it. This man was a professional, after all, he knew far more than an amateur such as her.
'There you are,' exclaimed Elanora, appearing by her side. 'I thought you'd changed you mind about the braid.' Her eyes ran over the painter. 'Mr. Bennett. A pleasure.' Her tone suggested otherwise.
'I know,' he joked with a flamboyant wave of his paintbrush. 'I'd say the same, but I don't know who you are and would rather not judge a book by its cover.'
'Says the painter,' Ela sniffed. Without sparing him another glance, she hooked her arm into her twin's and tenderly said, 'We should make our way to the service.'
Emilee let herself be steered away, but gave the painter a shy smile. He waved casually, then returned his focus to his work, which at this point seemed to be sitting. Emilee felt bad for having distracted him. Not to mention, she probably shouldn't be this chirpy at the funeral of such high-ranking religious figures.
The path was wide, but not enough so for all the courtiers flocking to the aedrum. It was easy to tell those that had genuinely been close to the Eseterrians from those that had merely befriended them for social status. True friends had glassy eyes and were trying to suppress their tears, whereas others feigned loud, dramatic wails. The men usually remained stoic as was expected of them, supporting weeping drama queens. It was like a play, a spectacle staged to please the crowd. It was true, people had died and it was sad, but this was just pageantry.
Emilee rubbed her sister's back gently. Her sister's grief wasn't fake. The tears that threatened to fall from her eyes were genuine, summoned by religious devotion more than the loss of a friend.
'There will be more Eseterrians. The spirits live on.'
'She was so young, Em,' Elanora said. 'She was only nine.'
'I know...' she sighed.
Ice crystals and snow crackled under people's feet, but soon the sound was replaced by the pattering of shoes on the polished floor of the aedrum. Pillars with carvings of scenes from the Libtoria supported a high decorated ceiling. Literal imagery of the five spirits that had created the land was prohibited, so artists often substituted with symbolism from tales of Eseterrians. Toutelé was often portrayed as a burning tree in a storm, Ellux as a candle and the sun. Gadeden was clocks and the celestial symbols of passing time: the moon, the sun and the stars. Emilee longed to run a hand over the carvings, but turned away. She and Elanora made their way up the stairs and took their place near the back, the designated area for lower nobles.
In barely anytime, the aedrum filled up. Each sound echoed through the arched interior, bouncing off the walls. A sombre silence settled over the crowd as they awaited the commencement of the ceremony. Those on the higher pews fidgeted, barely able to see over those in front of them and the railings. If Emilee went on tip toes, she could just about catch a glimpse of a white robe.
The sudden voice of a priest made Emilee jump. 'Gravemes. We have gathered here today to bid farewell from not one, but all five Eseterrians, for in a tragedy that none of us could have possibly foreseen, they were all taken from us long before their time.'
He continued, but Emilee whispered, 'Isn't the Chèr meant to run the funeral service?'
Elanora shot her a salty glare for the distraction, then returned her focus to the service. Emilee suppressed a sigh and tried to listen to the service, but once again, it felt too insincere. The priest's focus was mainly on the fact that there would be more Eseterrians and that the spirits lived on. Why couldn't there be more focus on who the Eseterrians were as people? Though Emilee had never had direct contact with any of them, Ciella Muorre had been known to be a kind and gentle soul. She deserved respect for that rather than merely the role she'd played in their religion.
The service dragged on. Their were speeches by various courtiers and priests. Those were in part more genuine. One husband made a moving speech about his love for Ellux's Eseterrian, their toddler on his hip. A woman reminisced about her school days with Fauna Wai. A kid recited a poem about little Rhea, one of the youngest Eseterrians ever. They stumbled over their words, but that only increased its cuteness. Emilee couldn't help but smile to herself.
Unfortunately, not everything could be the sweet and the service was long, stretching over several hours. By the end, Emilee's feet ached and her vision blurred. The floor seemed to be moving. She grabbed Elanora's arm for support.
Her sister gaped at her. 'Emi? Your eyes... They're completely white.'
Bright light poured into aedrum. The light licked at her limbs, tickling her skin. Her arm trembled as she lifted it closer to her face. On it was a black smudge.
As quickly as the light had appeared, it faded. Emilee, however, maintained a halo and gentle glow. All eyes were on her. The blood rushed to her face and she glanced at Elanora, pleading for help. But her sister had backed away, an expression of shock and something else she couldn't quite place.
Emilee gulped.
♤ ♤ ♤
As pathetic as she felt about it, it hadn't taken long for Emilee to black out. Apparently, that was a regular occurrence with Ellux's Eseterrians. Parvi bodies supposedly weren't made to handle that much light.
She'd been transported out of the aedrum and into a small salon. They'd clearly tried to give her peace to wake up to, but there were three strict looking Leere, the priest that had been performing the ceremony, a teenage girl who was paging through a book and the king. The king was the person that freaked her out the most.
'Why isn't the Chèr here?'
'He's dead.'
'Yes, I know that! Why isn't the new fellow here?'
'He's at the old Chèr's funeral.'
Emilee slowly sat up. Those talking grew silent and turned to face her. They knelt down respectfully, even the king. Emilee rose up, startled.
'Please, don't. I'm not... Whatever you think I am, I'm not it.'
'You're an Eseterrian,' the teenage girl said without looking away from her book.
'There must be some mistake. I can't be. I don't even—' She stopped herself before she admitted that she wasn't actually sure she believed in Eseterrians. When they found out this was all a mistake, they'd surely punish her for her doubts regarding religion. Maybe she'd be sent off to a convent like some of the Forti.
'Who is she?' asked the king, 'I've never seen her before.'
'Emilee Sato. Adoptive daughter of Lili Sato, former teacher,' the adolescent filled him in.
The king's brows knitted together as he thought, then recognition appeared in his eyes. 'Of course. Magistra Sato.'
'I'm telling you, Your Majesty, there must be some mistake. I apologise for the inconvenience and for having deceived you in any way, but—'
One of the Leere grabbed her forehead harshly. She tensed up, afraid, but the Leere soon let go.
'There's not a trace of magic within her. The only possible cause of that display was Ellux.'
'She is definitely Ellux's type. Polite. Modest. Moderately pretty,' stated another Leere.
'Send for the Chèr,' the king ordered the priest.
'No need,' said the teenager, still reading her book, 'He knows.'
The priest's coughed. 'Yes, I'm sure word has already been sent.'
Emilee could have sworn she saw the girl roll her eyes behind her book.
'I shall leave then. I trust you will handle the situation appropriately?' The king turned to the Leere, who nodded. Without further ado, he left, as did the priest with a bow. The Leere returned their full attention to me.
'I'm telling you, I can't be an Eseterrian.'
A brunette Leere with green eyes smiled kindly. 'That's a common reaction. Ellux in particular tends to go for those who don't see themselves as Eseterrian material. But there's no need to worry, every Eseterrian has eventually embraced their role.'
'Not to mention, it'll be easier because you'll all be going through the same thing,' grumbled an elderly Leere, rubbing her forehead wearily.
Emilee remained silently. The whole idea of this seemed preposterous. She'd never been the type to stand out in a crowd, never anything special. She'd been a lowly courtier, barely even that. She and her sister had joked that in a few months they'd have to open a shop. In reality, they knew the easiest answer was to find a wealthy spouse but that hadn't been going so well. Why would a spirit ever claim her as an Eseterrian? She'd never been devoutly religious or anything.
'There's the matter of your circles to see to. Naturally you will have more important duties than playing princess, but we must keep the people happy and ensure a connection is kept with the common man. Write a list, if you don't mind, and we'll make sure to arrange a luncheon with them to keep up appearances. Then there's the matter of your servants. They can, of course, continue to serve you, we just need to approach them. Where can we find them?'
'I don't have any servants,' stammered Emilee, 'Nor much of a social circle.'
'Surely there's somebody? Then again, the people love fresh meat, but that doesn't make things especially pleasant for you.'
Finally, Emilee said, 'My sister. Please, send for my sister. Elanora Sato.'
The Leere nodded curtly, then marched off. Meanwhile, the others guided her into a petaed.
'You shall pray,' they told her, 'You shall fast until sunset and pray the entire time.'
And so she sat in a dimly lit dome and tried to string together any words that could pass as a prayer. But the whole time one thought echoed in her mind.
This can't be, this can't be, this can't be.
♤ ♤ ♤
Her first night was spent alone. Supposedly, Elanora had refused to go and dine with her. The Leere had offered to join her, but Emilee had preferred to be alone. The idea of discussing religious stories didn't strike her as especially appealing. Unfortunately, dining alone wasn't especially fun either, nor was her isolation in her room. She struggled to fall asleep that night, but eventually she must have dozed off because she awoke to her curtains being opened by a girl with auburn hair.
'Good morning,' Emilee shyly greeted her.
That startled the maid, but she quickly regained her composure. She curtsied and continued fastening the curtains, then remained standing silently. Emilee felt rather uncomfortable and unsure what to do, so she said, 'You know you can go.'
The girl hesitated briefly, then explained in a quiet voice, 'The Chèr requested I help dress you, Ponyeva.'
'Oh, right. Um, I can dress myself, but I appreciate it.'
A glimmer of fear flickered in her eyes. What if she feared punishment if she failed to do so? Admittedly, Emilee herself rather feared the Chèr. She'd heard nothing of the previous one dying and wondered whether it was connected with the deaths of the Eseterrians. She had no clue who she'd be crossing if she disobeyed his orders, so it might be best to go along with things for now.
'On second thought, I'd appreciate your help.'
The servant girl gave her a small smile and pulled the wardrobe door open. Emilee let out a surprised gasp upon seeing the splendid gowns inside. There must be something for every occasion: fur coats for the winter, evening gowns with low necklines for balls, simple empire line dresses for casual days. She took a step forward and ran a hand over the fabrics.
Suddenly, she asked, 'Were these the old Eseterrian's?'
'I do not know, Ponyéva.'
Uncomfortable with the prospect of wearing a dead woman's clothes, Emilee found a simple dress that seemed to never have been worn and set about putting it on. It was unfamiliar letting somebody other than Elanora help her tie her corset. The maid kept asking whether it should go any tighter, whereas after years of practice, it was automatic for the two sisters to tie it to perfection.
'What is your name?'
'Mirja, miss.'
In little time, they were done. Mirja's hands were nimble and each action swift and practiced. In barely any time, Emilee's hair was intricately styled, her face powdered slightly and her dress falling the way that was designed to. She thanked the servant and tackled the task of figuring out where on Lypera she was meant to go.
She passed a room in which there were two laughing voices. Nervously, she peered through the crack and was immediately spotted.
'It's the candle,' joked a brunette in a puffy shirt.
Since she'd been discovered anyway, she entered. 'Hello, do you happen to know where I'm meant to be going?' Maybe she should offer them a place in her inner circles. Maybe they'd request one in return regardless.
'You can stay with us. I'm waiting for the Chèr to arrive too.'
'Are you...' Her voice trailed off.
'I am. Merari's just moral support,' said the girl and held out her hand. 'Arcane Astraea Bay.'
'Emilee Sato.' Emilee gave her hand a gentle shake. 'So, when did you find out?'
'Not at a funeral—which, I must say, made the long service rather worth it. No, I started glowing earlier this morning and went to Merari and was of course seen by a Leere and waltzed away, but she got to come with me. They told me to wait for the Chèr here.'
'Did you know he's died?' Emilee anxiously asked.
'No. I wonder why they didn't announce it,' Arcane responded thoughtfully.
'He died a few hours after the Eseterrians, same cause too. He apparently wanted a small service and a smooth and barely noticeable transition,' said Merari, a young woman with short dark hair and what appeared to be expensive taste.
'I guess people don't like big changes...'
They were saved from an awkward silence by the entrance of the Chèr. He was young, only a teenager. He had a mass of light brown hair and freckled skin. He was dressed in finery, a dark embroidered overcoat that looked a bit big for him. His green eyes were strikingly bright and drew attention to them.
'Sorry for the wait, my dear Ponyevae, but I had matters to attend to.' He bowed, then continued, 'Are you all Eseterrians?'
'I'm moral support.'
'Right,' he said, 'So that's two down. I must say, you're making my life awfully easy for me.'
'It's not like we had much choice. I didn't want to be a candle.' Arcane crossed her arms over her chest. He chuckled and Arcane sniffed in annoyance.
'It was gratitude, not a complaint.'
'So you're a slacker?'
'Of course not, at least, not in my opinion, but a foreign perspective can so often be rather enlightening. No, I am merely grateful because the third known Eseterrian is making things significantly more difficult.'
'Is she alright?' asked Emilee.
'Most likely not. There's been a sighting in Avi. The problem is, we don't know where she's gone. She vanished.'
Emilee assumed they all stared at him in shock, but it was in fact just her. The other two exchanged glances and then shrugged it off. She couldn't quite believe their dismissiveness.
At that very moment, the teenager from the previous day burst into the room. She had a book clutched to her chest which soon slipped from her chest.
'I know where she is. I've found her.'
♤ ♤ ♤