Devotia Ch. 12: Reflections

Reflections

"You two have grown quite close," Velena observes, suddenly changing the direction of the conversation. It takes Callie a long minute to understand who she might be referring to - she supposes most people would think her relationships with Calvin and Junivere both were quite close. Callie tosses another wave and smile at a cheering onlooker to their procession, noticing Velena facing towards Junivere walking ahead of them.

"She's been a really helpful guide," Callie responds, hoping her face doesn't flush too much as she recalls Junivere's many "helpful" moments. "I honestly don't know what I would do without her here."

"That's good to hear," Velena nods slowly. She looks around at the barricade of knights shielding them from the crowd as their march continues.

"I'm even starting to learn how to administer blessings the way she does," Callie adds. She notices Velena's eyebrows raise perceptively, a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Not like that," Callie whispers, laughing a little. "I meant the more effortless ones."

"Call them what you may," Velena smirks. "I was simply remarking that your friendship now would have been unthinkable in her first week here."

"Yeah," Callie blows a kiss at a woman in a window above them, enjoying the way her eyes widen excitedly when she notices it's directed at her. She's grown more used to the adoration from Solva's public. While a small part of her still resents the loss of her anonymity and the safety it could provide, Callie's budding sense of self-confidence was beginning to thrive on the attention, soaking it in and learning how to use the charms of celebrity to play the game more effectively. Supposedly, Junivere had also been shy when she began and grew more confident over time, but Callie never fully believes her.

"How close are the two of you?" Velena asks after a moment. There's something behind her voice, but Callie can't quite read what it is.

"Close," she replies. "She's probably my closest friend here."

Callie notices a small expression flash through Velena's face, clearly attempting to keep her feelings hidden, though Callie isn't sure why. Velena was often like this, gaining information sublty and trying to understand the dynamics at play around her. After most appearances, Velena was likely to ask her a series of probing questions about her interactions, always listening with a thoughtful but restrained expression. Callie had learned not to think much of it. As a Magister, and effectively Callie's political coach, she figures Velena is simply doing her job. When Velena asks about Junivere however, Callie generally tries to only share what is necessary, assuming her fellow Devotia would appreciate the discretion.

"Any updates about Lord Ciron?" Callie asks, shifting the conversation to avoid further questions.

"He's interested," Velena confirms, her energy changing as well. "I know he's been traveling for the past week or two, so it's no guarantee he will make an appearance today. Hopefully a meeting with a Devotia is enough to coax him out."

"Thank you. I hope he shows."

While Velena had initially resisted Callie's attempts to find Mykah a benefactor for the Mage's college, her persistence eventually wore the Magister down. They'd assembled a shortlist of nobles who were known to provide donations to the college, hoping one could be convinced to direct their donation to a patronage instead. Lord Ciron was one of the lowest on the list, not particularly known for much other than being soft-spoken, but Callie remains optimistic at least for Mykah's benefit.

"I would provide you more guidance for negotiating with him," Velena sighs, gazing at the entrance to the Hill District and appreciating the crowds being left behind at its gate, "but few know much about Ciron at all. He keeps to himself more than most."

"Understood," Callie nods. She stops walking for a moment, taking Velena's hand in her own and saying, "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Of course, hal Devotia," she smiles politely, halting her own walk and standing next to her. She allows Junivere to keep walking a bit further ahead, and Callie can feel a strange aura around Velena return. "Please give hal Devotia space to work during the banquet. It is important you're both able to accomplish your goals."             

Callie inclines her head in affirmation, hiding the confusion bubbling inside of her. Does Junivere have some objective I didn't know about? Why would she keep it from me?

"Shall we?" Callie extends her hand a moment later, gesturing for them to stroll into the gates of the Ramquet Villa, where they would be expected.

"Upon your lead, hal Devotia," Velena accepts, strolling between the large marble columns at the threshold of the property.

Callie rolls her shoulders and takes a breath, preparing herself to once again be thrown into the delicate maneuvers of the dreaded game of nobility.

- - -

Ramquet Villa, so named after Lady Ramquet who lived there, isn't nearly the most spectacular home Callie has entered as Devotia. As far as properties in the Hill District, it feels significantly smaller, less dedicated to extravagance. However, its primary claim to fame is its massive observatory, a domed building that brings in light from the sun and fractured it through massive prisms, sending colorful refracting beams all across the dome to magnificent effect. Mages move the prisms around, changing sizes and shifting them to create spectacular light displays, and it is easily one of the most awe-inspiring things Callie has ever witnessed.

Much of the banquet was typical before the main event. Callie spends her time in the gardens surrounded by eager nobles who all hope to bend her ear, earn her favor, and acquire blessings that would make them the envy of their peers for a few weeks. Callie plays hard to get, having learned her lesson from her first banquet and developing in the arts of deflection, flattery, and teasing. She keeps the nobles around her enraptured but very rarely gives them anything in return. Meanwhile, her head remains on a carefully disguised swivel, searching to see if Lord Ciron has actually managed to arrive.

Junivere is also far more tame than her first banquet in Solva, no longer reclining and allowing nobles to serve her needs. Like Callie, she floats from group to group, engaging in small talk and careful politic, earning the effortless admiration of her onlookers. They balance each other well as twin Devotia, Callie often thinks to herself. While she is more quiet and approachable, Junivere is more commanding and inspiring, and the two styles pair well together.

What is she trying to accomplish? Callie wonders again, seeing her fellow Devotia earn a peel of laughter from her group. And why wouldn't she tell me about it?

When time arrives for the grand light show, Lady Ramquet gathers them into the observatory. The dome shields the crowd from the midday sun as she pontificates about the majesty the group was about to witness. She's surprisingly theological, Callie notices, apparently drawing some symbolism from the prisms refracting the light to the way Devotia direct Suul's blessings towards Solva. Lady Ramquet speaks for the entirety of the performance, her voice echoing angelically from the center platform that Callie and Junivere have been invited to join her upon.

"-to fathom even our meager and oft quarrelsome devotion as holy..." Ramquet continues as the room lights up with flashes of blue and purple light. "Suul's rays touch the largest and the smallest, illuminating even through the dark of night!"

Callie largely ignores Ramquet in the same way that she tunes out of most services she's invited to at the Cathedral. So much of it feels flowery and overdone, and Callie heard enough preaching like that in Rookwell. Instead, she lets herself marvel at the spectacular colors, watching as they fill the atmosphere of the room. With each shift, it's as though the temperature changes in the room to match it, creating a magical sensory experience. The room warms as the observatory shines a soft amber color, providing a comfortable relief in contrast to the chill blue.

The entire spectacle continues for nearly half of an hour, and after a few minutes Callie elects to lay down on the ground and stare up at the dome, following the example of many nobles in the room who were doing the same. Laying down on the cool marble, Callie rests her head to stare at a place away from the prisms itself, instead focusing on the patterns projected onto the walls. She easily falls into a trance-like state of meditation, her attention captivated by the soothing array of colors, enjoying the ways they danced and fought against one another. A bright yellow might suddenly display against blue, clashing initially before it faded into a gentle green and providing a surprising amount of catharsis.

She hardly even notices falling asleep until Junivere lightly shakes her awake. Callie rouses calmly, feeling her body hold tight to the comfortable clutches of rest and wishing to return. She sits up, stretching slowly and embracing the satisfied feeling inside of herself, while in the backgrounds of her mind some dream she must've been having timidly fades away past her working memory.

"Enjoyed the show?" Junivere asks quietly, a pleasant smile on her face.

Callie exhales contentedly. "Yeah. I think I did."

Junivere giggles as Callie returns to the waking world. She's fairly used to waking up next to her fellow Devotia, who so often arose before her. In Junivere's bed, Callie sleeps better than she has in most places she's been, enjoying the warmth of another body beside her and a companion against the loneliness of the night. Even here, so far away from her own bed, the gentle scent of Junivere's perfume and her natural odor make Callie want to lay back into her arms and return to sleep.

Ramquet leads most of the party out of the observatory, quiet and reflective, eager to partake in the next round of festivities. A few others rouse slower, similarly held in a state of meditation, and when they arise Callie can see a gentle sense of wonder spread across their faces.

"I told them not to wake you," Junivere says, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. "I even implied you might be communing with Suul in your dreams. Lady Ramquet nearly combusted with excitement."

Callie laughs. "I'll be sure to make up some message from Suul to pass along to her. Maybe something about speaking less in the observatory."

Junivere's giggle echoes through the dome as the final few nobles leave. "We should probably return to the party. Do you need a second?"

Callie nods, stretching her arms wide once again and reveling in the warm feeling in her muscles. Junivere places a small kiss on the top of her head, strolling out of the room and leaving her to wake up more.

It isn't until Junivere exits that Callie realizes she isn't alone in the room. One noble remains, sitting quietly against the far wall and resting comfortably. Callie stands, rolling her shoulders and wishing the observatory had a softer place to lay than a marble platform. Nodding politely to him she makes for the exit of the room.

"Please, stay," the noble calls out, his voice soft and low. After a moment he respectfully adds, "Hal Devotia."

"Is there something I can help you with, my Lord?" she replies using the cheery tone she often employs around nobility.

He stands, approaching her timidly and inclining his head. "I was hoping to speak to you."

Callie lays open her hands out to him, inviting him to continue. She's fairly accustomed to being approached like this by now. Some nobles felt their matters were too private, or their requests too publicly embarrassing, and it wasn't uncommon to be asked to speak away from a crowd, though typically they like to remain near enough to others to avoid scandal.

He takes a moment to prepare his words, starting and stopping a few sentences. Callie notices that he's rather young to be a Lord, perhaps a year younger than she is. The young man looks around twenty-two, with long, golden hair pulled back into a tight, braided bun. He has high cheekbones with nervous blue eyes and seems fairly quiet and reserved.

"I just returned from a visit to Fairmill," he says a few moments later, awkwardly deflecting from the thing he seems to want to say. "The weather was quite lovely in the vineyards."

"I've heard it's delightful," Callie agrees.

"Have you ever been?"

"I have not."

"It's very nice," he confirms once again. He pauses for a moment, clearing his throat and staring down at the floor. After a long breath, he says, "I have something I want to ask you but I can't seem to."

"That's okay," Callie says gently. "Perhaps we can discuss something else until you're ready?"

He nods, appreciative. "Did you enjoy the display?" He gestures towards the room around them.

"I did," she smiles warmly. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

"My aunt spent years having it designed. I think she sees it as her crowning gift to Suul, a cathedral of light."

"Your aunt?" Callie thinks for a moment, realizing he means Lady Ramquet. "You're Lord Ciron," she says suddenly. Ciron nods, a light smile on his soft face. "Apologies for not recognizing you."

"It's fine," he waves away her concern. "Most people don't. They're expecting me to look more like my father, but I don't really bear his resemblance much."

"I actually had something I wanted to ask of you," Callie feels her excitement return. It's been a week since she's seen Mykah and she's hoping to summon him soon with good news. "An associate of mine is seeking a patron to attend the college."

"A mage?" Ciron asks and Callie smiles in confirmation. He steps back and leans against the wall. "I don't really know much about the college."

"That is more than alright, my associate is a highly gifted mage. He simply lacks the resources to pay to enter it." She can feel his skeptical mind and adds, "I've known him for years. Even my fellow Devotia has remarked at how talented he is."

Ciron is quiet for a long moment, unsure of the request. According to Velena, Ciron's parents were killed when a storm collapsed a bridge in Dralm on their way home from a vacation. He'd inherited their wealth and elected to move in with his aunt, Lady Ramquet, rather than run a household solo. From what Callie knew, he had more than enough money to be a benefactor for Mykah, though he was known not to spend much of it.

"Perhaps we can help each other," Callie says, stepping slightly closer and placing a delightful grin on her face. "You wanted to ask me something..."

Ciron's face flushes and he looks away again nervously. Callie's enthusiasm bubbles happily inside knowing that her charm could be easily irresistible, especially to people like Ciron who might be too timid to otherwise state their desires. He struggles to meet her gaze, holding his hands together and shifting awkwardly in place.

"I'd heard a rumor..." he begins, his words failing him a second later.

Callie steps forward, entering into his space and placing a hand against the wall to let herself hover over him slightly. She's taller than him, but only by an inch or two. "Allow me to answer it," she whispers, smirking at his bright red face, "I am just as good at that as people say."

Ciron clears his throat, desperately trying not to meet her eyes. "Not that," he squeaks, pressing back into the wall a little more.

Callie giggles mischievously. "Very well. Is there something else you might desire?"

"I... I'm sorry if this is wrong," he begins cautiously, "but I heard, um, that..."

"Yes?"

"I heard that you're threaded..."

Callie stops in her tracks slightly. Two months ago, this might've been one of her biggest nightmares, to be suddenly confronted with someone knowing her secret. But now, having gained safety and the confidence that comes with no longer being an outcast, she finds it mildly amusing. Few people knew about this fact and she immediately wonders where his hopes and desires were leading him. A small part of Callie delights in the notion that she might get to try something new.

"I am," she nods.

A small wave of relief crosses over his cute face, and Callie soaks up the timid look in his eyes. Part of her is already beginning to hunger at what she might get to do with him, imagining what his shy face might look like when he calls out to her in desperation.

"I want t-to..." Ciron's voice trails off again momentarily.

She places a hand against his cheek, running her thumb over his cheekbone slowly and seductively. "If you'd like, I can tell you what I would want to do to you."

To her surprise, Ciron shakes his head quickly. A little disappointed, Callie accepts his reservation, pulling back slightly and lowering her hand patiently. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing the words out of himself.

"I want to be like you," he blurts out.

"Oh," Callie replies, taking a moment to understand what he means. She steps back, taking in his request and slowly realizing the situation.

He shakes his head again, looking back down to the floor. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

Callie's face lights up quickly, adjusting course. She takes Ciron's hands, holding her skin softly. "No, no it's okay! I just was expecting you to say something completely different." She takes a deep breath, looking at the noble before her and smiling. "You'll make a very pretty girl," she says happily.

Ciron's face beams, and she finally makes eye contact with Callie. "I need your help, though."

"Of course," Callie nods excitedly. "I'll help however I can."

Ciron's chest expands and falls, pushing away the nervous tension with finally admitting something important about oneself. Callie knows the feeling well, especially with how much she'd have to overcome to realize it in Rookwell.

"Lady Ramquet... she's..." Ciron sighs, abandoning politeness. "She's one of the few people pushing to make it illegal. She sees it as a rejection of Suul's creation."

"That isn't what Suul is about," Callie says firmly, her brow lowering to indicate her seriousness. She meets Ciron's gaze, trying to communicate her support. "I'm proof of that. Suul chose me."

Ciron nods gratefully. "Thanks. I'll be fine after I do it, I have plenty of money to start my own home."

"Then what's the problem?" She asks sincerely. "I'd assume with your connections it should be easy."

"My aunt has been blocking my efforts to meet with mages at the college," she explains, "There's a professor that specializes in this but she's trapped her somehow and made her unable to work with me."

Callie's eyes widen, a delighted warmth washing over her face. "I can help you." She shakes her head in mild disbelief. "The mage who I'm trying to get into the college, I know him from my hometown. He had to flee because he's the one who performed my threading!"

Ciron's face shines with disbelief as well. "So if I get him into the college..."

"Forget that for now," she waves away her negotiation. "Mykah will help you either way. If you can help him in return, that's great, but let's get your threaded first."

"Wow," Ciron grins, ecstatic and amazed. "This is happening."

"This is happening," Callie takes the girl by her shoulders. "We're going to make this work."

"Thank you," Ciron says, tears of relief forming in her eyes.

Callie pulls her into a hug, embracing her the way she wished someone had held her in Rookwell. "I'll get in touch with him. You focus on staying safe and preparing your own home. If anyone, and I mean anyone gets in your way, reach out to me and I will make sure they never receive a blessing ever again."