140 - Happy Birthday, Lyra

The next morning, Arielle opened her eyes and yelped.
She thrust her hand out and nearly blasted the strangers surrounding her bed into the wall. Then the cobwebs in her memory fell away, and she realized the strangers were in fact Lyra’s family, most of whom she had met last night.
There were two newcomers, a man and an even older man who stood at the center of the semi-circle they had formed. She’d already met them before on campus: Lyra’s father and her brother.
And supposedly, Arielle’s scream triggered them to begin a tribalistic, discordant chant that she only belatedly discovered was actually a birthday carol.
While Lyra sat up, blearily rubbing her eyes, they continued the screeching, off-tune melody and thrust their hands up in waves. Lyra and Arielle waited for them to finish, with resounding clapping, and then Lyra said drolly, “Really, guys? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this. I’m not ten anymore.”
“Yes, but it’s not every day my darling daughter turns sixteen.” Her mother came close and hugged her tightly, rubbing their cheeks together as her father also beamed at their daughter.
He waited till her mother was done and then leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead and saying, “Happy birthday, my love.”
“I thought you would be too busy to come,” Lyra said.
“I am busy, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to miss my favorite daughter’s birthday.”
“I’m your only daughter.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “And you’ve never let me forget that.”
Lyra grinned as one by one her family extended their birthday wishes, including the young Walter who chanted in his own language, and the tiny but terrible Sammy who hugged her, tugged her hair, and then took off running while his mother yelled at him to come back.
After it was done, Lyra’s father turned to Arielle and said, “Welcome to our home, Arielle. I hope this hasn’t been too much chaos for you.”
“A little.” Arielle said, then she added, “But not in a bad way.”
Lyra’s father let out a loud bark of laughter and patted her hair.
They all went down to breakfast, which was a large spread of a lot of vegetarian meals. There was duck there too, and Lyra pointed it out to Arielle so she would take a few slices. In the end, the spice blend did not quite work for her, and she ended up sticking to the oats.
Halfway through breakfast, two other girls showed up, the aforementioned Posey and Carissa. Posey was a freckled girl with brown hair in a long braid who Walter gawped at for nearly the entirety of breakfast. The other girl had red hair and was slightly shorter and chubbier but had a pleasant countenance and seemed to always end each sentence with a giggle.
Upon meeting her, she exclaimed, “Oh, you must be Arielle. You’re exactly as Lyra described! And you do have such pretty eyes.”
“Thank you,” Arielle said.
“Lyra says you’re so smart. I bet you know a bunch of magical spells,” she said. “Can you do a small fireball?”
Arielle nodded. It was a tier 3 spell, barely apprentice. She could do it in her sleep.
At her nod, they ‘oohed’ and ‘ahed’, obviously very impressed
“What about a big fireball?” Carissa asked. “Can you do that?”
“Elder Malone’s son can,” Posey said. “He’s been bragging to everyone who will listen about his fireball technique. All yesterday, he used it to set off little explosions in the waste buckets, just to show off. We asked Lyra, but she said she couldn’t do the same.”
“She could,” Arielle said. “But it would explode more than just the buckets.”
Lyra snorted, and the two girls gave Arielle a puzzled look.
Then, Lyra cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, let’s eat so that we can get started. Oh, Ari, sorry I forgot to mention. The girls wanted to come shopping with us. I hope you don’t mind.”
Ari shrugged. She didn’t mind them much, and even if she did, it truly wasn’t her place to say. It was Lyra’s birthday after all.
“Great,” Lyra said, and they went back into the loud kitchen where everyone was eating and talking at the same time. It was a wonder they didn’t choke.
“Don’t feel too bad, Lye,” Posey whispered as she slid into the seat next to Lyra and Carissa slid into the other one, leaving Arielle to sit beside her. Conversation enveloped them, so she barely heard Posey finish with, “I’m sure soon enough you’ll be making giant fireballs big enough to burn entire barns.”
“No more talk about barn burning, please,” Lyra’s father extricated himself from his conversation to say. “One arsonist in the family is more than enough.”
That earned him a laugh from Lyra’s uncle, although her mother rolled her eyes.
Arielle frowned, though, both because she wasn’t sure how she felt about the ‘Lye’ nickname and also because Lyra wouldn’t be able to make fireballs if she were losing her Calor core, and her friends should have known that.
So why would they suggest it?
Were they mocking her? Was it an inside joke?
Ari caught Lyra’s uncomfortable look and the guileless expression on the other girls’ faces as they continued talking. Ari’s mind went in a different direction.
Had Lyra not told them about losing her cores?
Why?
Did she not trust them?
Or was she too ashamed to tell them? She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was all Aunt Ida’s fault.
Arielle wanted to tell Lyra that, but she would have to wait until they were alone.
Right after breakfast, all four girls ambled down the spiral lanes towards the general market. Lyra explained that the boutiques would be behind the market center, and though they weren’t half as nice as the ones in major cities, she was hoping to find something good there.
“We may not have world-class designers,” she said. “But we have our fair share of skilled seamstresses.”
The three girls carried on a continued effortless conversation on the way there, stopping several times to chat briefly with people on their path who seemed to all know Lyra and wanted to wish her a happy birthday.
At some point, Posey hooked her arm through Lyra’s elbow–the way Lyra often did to Arielle–and Carissa stuck to her other side, leaving Arielle walking awkwardly on the outskirts. For her part, Lyra made a valiant effort to pull Ari into the conversation, but they were talking about things Arielle didn’t understand, like fashion and plays and people she didn’t know. Ari wondered if she should do more to involve herself, if she should also hook her arm through Lyra’s elbow.
But how would that work when there were three of them? Was it allowed to do two per arm? Did Arielle have to sustain that touch for a long time? Would it make it awkward? Or would it be better to give Lyra space?
Arielle hadn’t figured it out by the time they got to the first store, a small boutique with sample dresses sitting on mannequins by the window and, deeper inside, a seamstress with a tape around her neck and a sewing machine in front of her.
“Ah, Lyra!” she greeted happily. “Happy birthday to you, dear girl.”
“Thanks, Amarantha.” She reached out to touch a pretty blue dress with sparkles on the edges. “Do I get a discount?”
“You sure do. Now let’s see which one you like for your ball, girl. And if nothing out here catches your fancy, I have better in the back.”
Lyra grinned. “Awesome.”
That turned into what felt like hours of fabric after fabric being draped and tied over Lyra’s body, followed by long discussions on each aspect of the attire.
Arielle tried to follow along, to understand the different rankings. Sparkle was good, but sometimes also not good, as it could be gaudy when done ‘wrong’–though it wasn’t clear what ‘wrong’ was. Some things were stylish last year but were no longer stylish this year, for reasons that were not explained either. Also, brighter colors were better than darker colors, except for this one silk burgundy dress tucked in the back of the store, which Lyra was obsessed with for some reason.
“That one’s going to be too expensive,” the seamstress said. “Even with the discount. It’s high-quality silk, you see, with a bit of cloudweave in the embroidery. I’m not sure it’s a good choice.”
“Oh, I see,” Lyra said, with disappointment in her eyes. She let the dress go wistfully and forced her gaze onto others, but some of her enthusiasm was gone.
Arielle decided then and there that she would buy that dress for Lyra, but she waited until Lyra and her friends had stepped out of the store.
She hung back and told the seamstress, “I’ll get the dress.”
The seamstress gave her an indulgent smile. “Well, I appreciate your taste, doll, but like I told Lyra, I’m afraid that’s out of your price range. She really wasn’t even supposed to see it. I’m holding it for a duchess who’s coming to town next week and was hoping to get at least seven gold off of it.”
“I can offer you double that.”
The woman shook her head. “Oh, sweetie…”
Arielle didn’t waste time trying to convince her. She opened her inventory and pulled out fourteen shiny gold coins, handing them to the woman. “Is that enough?”
The woman’s jaw dropped.
“How did…how…”
“My cousin is very wealthy,” she explained. “He has more money than he knows what to do with. Can I get the dress?”
“Of course!” She practically jumped to her feet in her hurry. “Come. I’ll take your measurements.”
Arielle shook her head. “Not for me. For Lyra.”
The woman’s eyebrows jolted up, then her smile widened. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Lucky for you, I already know Lyra’s measurements. I’ll have it tailored to her specifications.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“What are you two talking about?”
Arielle spun around to find Lyra standing at the entrance, glancing between them.
“Did you buy something, Ari?”
“No,” Arielle said.
Lyra narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but luckily, Posey came and pulled her away before she could ask more questions.
The seamstress gave Arielle a conspiratorial wink, whispering, “I’ll make sure she has it in time for the ball.”
Ari bowed respectfully, then walked away.
They went to more stores, fawned over more dresses, but ultimately Lyra did not find something she liked as well as the burgundy dress. Nevertheless, she settled for a yellow one that she paid twelve silver for. She did try to convince Arielle to try a few dresses on, which Arielle did to appease her, but when Lyra asked what outfits she connected with the most, Ari did not have a satisfactory answer.
All she knew was, “This one has an itchy collar”, “This one is too bright,” “This fabric is too weak for the winter.”
Eventually, they finally got tired of shopping and got warm drinks at the market to cap off the session. Posey and Carissa waved goodbye, stating that they had to go help Posey’s mother in her shop before the party at night.
“It’s nice meeting you, Arielle!” Carissa yelled, and Posey parroted the sentiment as they dashed off.
“It was nice meeting you too,” Arielle said as she waved. Lyra waved with her, but when they were out of view, she sighed.
“So,” she said. “What did you think of them?”
Arielle shrugged. “They seem nice.”
“Yeah,” Lyra nodded. “They’re fun. But I’m glad it’s just the two of us for the rest of the afternoon. I like them, but they can be a lot to keep up with. I much prefer things this way.”
Arielle blushed and felt warmth bloom in her chest. She also finally admitted to herself that part of the reason she got the dress for Lyra was to prove she was worthy of also being her best friend, even if she didn’t know the elbow-looping technique.
“Now, let’s go watch Cashmere,” Lyra said and pointed at a theatre house in the distance with a thatched roof, a large entryway, and steps made of packed earth.
On their way in, Lyra suddenly stiffened, and Arielle stopped in their path.
She followed Lyra’s gaze to an average-looking man with an air of importance as he strode, as though he were looking down on everything in his path. Not that there were many people here to look down on. The theatre house was mostly empty.
Right as Arielle looked over, his eyes caught hers, and he redirected his trajectory so that he would cross paths with them.
“Lyra,” he said. “Your father tells me it’s your birthday today.”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Congratulations. And also congratulations on finishing another semester at the academy. It can’t be easy. I know Bo complains all the time about the workload at his school, so I imagine for you it must be worse.”
Lyra said nothing, clasping her hands together.
“He’s going to be participating in the tournament,” the man added. “So you will probably see him there. Maybe the two of you can help each other. That is if you’re in different groups and don’t have to face each other.”
“Yeah,” Lyra said with her smile tight. “Maybe.”
The man turned his gaze to Arielle, raising an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Arielle Blacksoil,” she said.
“A Mossborne?”
Arielle nodded. The man frowned, and the top of one lip curled up like he had smelt something bad.
“Well, Lyra,” he said. “I certainly didn’t expect this type of company from you. And how did you two meet?”
“Magic school,” Lyra said, with an edge to her tone and a raised eyebrow. “Arielle is the best student in our entire class.”
“Truly?” He didn’t look convinced. “I didn’t know Mossbornes could use magic.”
“She’s adopted,” Lyra said.
“Hmm,” he said. “Well, I’ve heard the quality of acceptees has gone down over the years. I suppose that it’s to be expected for any prestigious institution to hit its peak and inevitably decline.”
Lyra flinched at that, but Arielle simply blinked at the man, disliking him more by the second.
He exhaled. “Anyway, I must be on my way now. Happy birthday once again, Lyra.”
“Thank you, Elder Malone,” Lyra said between her teeth as the man walked off.
“Sorry about that, Arielle,” she said once he was out of earshot. “Ignore him; he’s a snobby butt-chuckler, as my father would say. Don’t pay him any mind at all.”
Arielle hadn’t planned on listening to him in the first place, so she only said, “Okay.”
“Good. Now let’s go see Cashmere.”
It was Arielle’s first time watching a play, and she enjoyed it. There was something ridiculous, yet entertaining, about watching someone put on an act and do it convincingly. It made Ari a little envious at times, because she would even forget these were actors as she got so mired in the story.
It was also amusing watching Lyra’s reactions. She sang to all the songs, sighed whenever the main lead appeared on stage, and squealed at a particularly well-executed kiss.
Once they were done, they came out and walked to the bench outside and sat staring at the moon. Lyra still had a smile on her face.
“Well,” Lyra said, her face flushed with excitement. “I have to say this has been one fun day. If this is how it ends, I’m glad it’s with you.”
She reached out and squeezed Arielle’s hand, and Arielle clung to hers for a few seconds before she let go.
“Although there’s still the party happening later this evening,” she said. “Which is going to be crazy. I’m pretty sure a bunch of people from around the town will be in attendance. You don’t have to stay there for it. You can go up to your room if you want.”
“No,” Ari said. “I’ll stay.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Posey and Carissa will be there.”
“Yeah, but they like parties. You don’t.”
Arielle pushed her lips together. “I’ll stay.”
Lyra smirked. “If you say so. But if you ever feel uncomfortable, you can just go to my room, and I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
“Alright,” Arielle said. That was a good compromise, though she didn’t plan on using that lifeline until she had spent at least one hour at the party.
“Do you feel any different?” Arielle asked. Lyra’s cores should be gone by now.
Lyra shook her head.
“Hmm.” Arielle held Lyra’s hand, closed her eyes, and examined Lyra’s body with the aura reading charm. To her surprise, Lyra did have her other cores, although weak. “They’re not entirely gone yet.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Lyra said. “I was born at night, so I probably still have a few more minutes or hours with them. Speaking of which, I want to cast that one spell you taught me. The one with Calor that’s kind of like [Spore Burst] but less destructive. I want to do it while I still can.”
Arielle knew exactly what spell she was talking about.
That was how they found themselves in the woods, amongst the trees. Arielle lent Lyra the battery that Vittoria had given her and secretly aided her to cast spell after spell as Lyra laughed and shot whooshes of air through the trees. She did it again and again until she finally got tired.
“Ah,” she said, collapsing to the ground beside Ari. “That’s fun. I don’t know why, but my spells just work better around you.”
“Strange,” was all Ari said.
In any case, she was glad Lyra was having fun. She was glad that she wasn’t sad, even though she did look extra thoughtful sometimes.
“Can I ask you something?” Lyra said.
Arielle nodded.
Lyra bit her lip, then ventured, “What specifically were you going to do to rescue my cores? What was your plan?”
Arielle looked down at her feet, recalling the sting of failure once more. “I think your aunt put you under some kind of soul oath. Actually, your entire family might be involved in a soul oath with a guardian, so maybe it didn’t start with your aunt; she just incorporated you into it without your knowledge. Either way, I was going to try to break it.”
“How?”
“By learning soul magic.”
“Soul magic?”
“Yeah. Elric has a friend who’s an expert on it. I was studying with her.”
“How?”
“Well, the trick is to watch something die enough times that you begin to feel the sensation of death in their soul, and maybe have your soul connected to theirs. That’s what I tried to learn, but no matter how hard I tried, I could never feel what I was supposed to feel. I failed.”
She focused on the lines in her palm to escape the ensuing silence, counting ten seconds before she finally snuck a look at Lyra. She expected curiosity, or devastation.
Instead, Lyra looked…
Her mouth hung open, her eyes blinking rapidly in thought.
Arielle said, “It’s not as gruesome as it sounds. It’s fairly mundane actually.”
“Uh…yeah, sure. It’s just…” She closed her mouth, swallowed, and opened it again. “You said you’re supposed to watch something die…and feel something? Like a connection?”
“I suppose.”
“I see.” Now, it was Lyra’s turn to study her palm, a furrow in her eyebrows.
Another ten beats of silence ensued.
“I think I feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“I…” Lyra coughed and frowned even deeper as she said, “Erm…I’m not sure, but I think I know how to feel the dying soul.”