Wisher Beware

Anaise Kiymetl Hilal

She walked through the hallway toward her shame. Her fists clenched.

She hated her mother so much right now.

How many years did she diligently study, in order not to besmirch the name of their House? How many tears she had shed stumbling over incomprehensible Flow and obtuse Runes, just to please her mother? How many parties she attended, bored to tears listening to old foxes squabble over who is selling what kind of rock and where.

She was an adult already! Her Spark was as bright as mother's! She was the Lady of the House!

And yet her mother still coddled her! Still treated her as a child. Still called her ‘little Moon’.

Still forbade her unrestricted access to the Spell Codex of Kiymetl. Demanding that she would finish her studies first.

It didn’t matter that she still hadn’t had her Entrance feast yet. To celebrate her joining the family as an adult she already was. It was a mere technicality and gonna happen soon anyway.

And now she was openly mocking her.

She hired a teacher to teach her numbers! Numbers! How young did she still think she was!

Tears almost burst out from the sheer unfairness of it all, but she held. She was after all the heiress, the Lady of the House. And crying while walking in the corridors was simply not done. She had an image to uphold.

Anaise tried to find out more about her new teacher. And potential ways to minimize her future shame. Information about him was…controversial.

From what she could gather, he was a murk bought recently. That was the only solid piece of information she had. Afterwards, things stopped making sense. Allegedly he was bought for one of her fathers only to be snatched up by her mother instead.

Why?

She knew her mother’s schedule. To say she was busy was an understatement. While she was smothering as a mother, she was a perfect Domina otherwise. Smart, ambitious, shrewd. With refined taste. Something Anaise will become one day too.

To even imply that she was looking for such crude entertainment was to besmirch her entire image. If someone was caught spreading false rumours like that within the manor a heavy lashing would be the least of their worries. Even if it was her.

She didn’t even want to think about what could happen to someone trying to spread something like that outside of the manor.

That meant that there was a grain of truth within all this mess. Most likely the part that Domina took notice of him. And now she was trying to push him on her too.

Gloomy thoughts aside. What could attract her attention? He was a murk. She didn't hate them, but they were weak.

Emanai Manorat was well guarded against incessant threats from all sides. A series of walls surrounded these lands. Keeping the magical beasts of the primaeval forests at bay. Even without the beasts, there were neighbours that were eager to attack at any opportunity. And were attacked in turn themselves.

Suffice to say every resident of Emanai was always familiar with their worth. Some were protectors, those who had the power to keep Emanai safe and prosperous. They risked their lives daily to make sure that walls stood. That trade didn’t stop. Even the flow of slaves. The rest were protected. Too weak but not useless. They served their purpose by serving. Either directly or through their crafts.

She learnt well from her mother. Anaise knew that even murks could be strong. Their strength came with their numbers. Weak and fleeting, they could procreate at a staggering speed, quickly replenishing the lost numbers. This was the main reason why a large portion of every standing arm was filled with murks.

But he didn’t have the numbers nor was he a female. And, while murks could sire children with wersparks, children were born with dimmer Sparks themselves.

As a Domina, her mother chose her suitors with extreme meticulousness. Her Prime father was a mage of great renown. Currently returning from Yusuf with his merchant fleet. The shine of hers and her brother’s Sparks was the testament of their parents' powers. The other father was no slouch himself. He and the second brother were currently somewhere past the eastern walls. Whenever he returned she could easily pick him out of the hordes of warriors by the size of his bow.

Her mother interest in him was despite him being a murk, she decided.

Sulla was mum, unfortunately, albeit unsurprised by her questions. He knew something but chose to keep it secret from her. Or on the orders of her mother.

One thing sprung to her mind, however. Quite recently her mother stirred up some interest within people of influence through generous gifts of soap of all things. Initially, she thought she snatched a new deal with a yet unknown trader. Only to be pleasantly surprised by a workshop being set up within the manor. Did she steal a prized craftsman from another manor? Unlikely, she hasn’t seen that type of soap before. From another country?

Mother, how far is your reach?

And why did she want him to teach her numbers then?

This curiosity held her inner peace right now. Even when she felt the familiar glow from her classroom.

“Mother.” She bowed unsurprised. Was she here to spy on her daughter’s first class, or to make sure she won't chase the teacher out?

“Little Moon.” Aikerim smiled. “Don’t mind me, I am simply reading the reports.”

She held the urge to sigh. Mother. Was your reading room on fire? Do you really think I would believe this?

Her eyes spied a familiar box.

“Is it really necessary, mother?” She sighed.

“Hmm? No, but he asked for it.”

“What? Did he say ‘please read my thoughts anytime’” She looked at her sceptically.

“Pretty much.” Came an unexpected answer.

Anaise failed to respond. How do you respond to something like this? Was her new teacher fey-touched? Or simply an idiot?

She stared at her mother in silence, as she kept reading her notes. The classroom wasn’t a room but a courtyard, open to the sky and the chirping of birds.

Something was dying outside.

She chose an easy path. Anaise sat down and decided to simply wait and make a judgement for herself. She hated the chairs of the study rooms, they were uncomfortable and, most likely designed to make sure she won't fall asleep. Her mother simply brought her recliner here instead.

He was late. ‘Not a good start’ she thought seeing her mother’s frown. The dying sounds got closer and more distinct. Something heavy was being dragged. She sensed a few dim sparks moving sporadically, confirming her guess.

Soon a slave tried to drag a huge ‘thing’ through the entrance. Tried because he bowed immediately, seeing them. “My Domina, Lady of the House!”

Her mother raised an eyebrow as if waiting for something.

“Why did you stop?” a young voice. “We are gonna be late, oh!. Greetings my Domina. Er, Lady of the House?”

She stopped an eye roll, trying to observe the murk slave. Young, short dark hair. Silver eyes. She couldn't remember if she had seen anyone with that kind of colour.

Was he the teacher’s assistant?

“But…”

“She is expecting this, now get it in.” He interrupted the other slave impatiently. The thing was dragged almost immediately inside.

‘Liar’ she thought. ‘You weren’t expecting my mother here, and didn’t even know my title either’. Was she too suspicious, or was her mother lied to by a bunch of swindlers?

“So.” Mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts as soon as the other slaves left leaving only them and the murk. “Does this relate to the conversation we had yesterday?”

Anaise goggled. What? This kid was the teacher? He was barely her age! She glanced at the bundle of sticks in the corner. Something she hadn’t felt for a while now. What if she makes a mistake? Will, he hit her? She would die of shame! Why didn’t she buy an older teacher?

“Ah, no, my Domina. This is slate. I just wanted a blackboard to write on for better clarity. I mean, why sand?”

He also didn’t know a lick of history, apparently.

Her mother sighed, probably coming to a similar conclusion. Is she finally gonna kick him out?

“The first magic was written on the sand by the tails of Gods. It’s through their Gift we could claim this land as ours. It is our destiny to keep their gift safe.”

She did not. Kick him out that is.

Murk scratched his head dumbfoundedly. “Huh, that is rather important. Should I switch back to writing on the sand?”

Domina waved him off. “It is a tradition, not a requirement. But if you expect to be taken seriously in the future you should stick to sand.”

Her mother’s words were true. Anaise wasn’t feeling like taking him seriously at this moment.

He glanced at her. “Well, I guess I would just need to earn that back then.”

Huh. Apparently, he had a thought or two inside his head.

“Start the lesson, don’t bother me I am busy with my own work,” Domina replied.

Anaise tried not to fidget, waiting for what would happen next.

“Right.” He dragged that word out. Was that sarcasm? How brazen can he be and yet her mother does nothing?

He turned toward her. “Your sight is in my heart, Lady of the House. My name is Erf.”

It didn’t matter who he was, right now he was a teacher, and her mother was behind her. “And your name is on my lips.” She answered properly.

He smiled, “Let us start from afar, for now. What is mathematics?”

“A study of shapes and forms that define everything around us.” She answered, somewhat placated by the form of conversation. She expected him to write whatever numbers she was supposed to learn on this board of his and demand her to memorize them by tomorrow. This felt almost as if talking to a rhetor. Was he trained by one?

Maybe that is why mother made her listen to him. Preparing her for the actual study later.

“Well, numbers are there too.” He continued. “But what are these shapes, forms and numbers? Not their names but what are they?”

“They are the building forms of our world, everything Is made out of them. Even magic.”

He waved his hand. “While I can’t argue about magic, but why then can’t I taste a circle? Touch a square? Feel the warmth of four on my skin?”

Anaise frowned, was he being obtuse for a reason? That was common knowledge. “Some things cannot be felt but experienced with our mind. As a teacher, you should know that.”

“Exactly!” He smiled instead and waved on to her mother behind her.

Turning her head she saw her watching The Orb intently. Her paperwork on the table forgotten. Even if she brought it here as a pretence to watch her daughter at least she could make it more believable.

“The reason why we can only experience them is that they don't exist in the world.”

A harsh blue line over the Orb. Truth.

“They are nothing more than a product of our imagination.” He continued, ignoring her existential dread. Making the artefact glow with every statement he had done. As if mocking them, telling them that everything was fake.

He picked up the writing rod, holding a piece of chalk in the other. “Just like tools we have to assist our body with certain tasks, they are the tools of our minds. Created for a similar purpose.”

She hated how her mother simply listened to this nonsense. How did he trick her? Did he switch the artefact? If he did he would be lucky to have a swift death, as long as he returns the Gift back.

“Then why are they always true? Why postulates are unshaken, then?” She challenged him back.

His insufferable smile has gotten wider. “I can see the family resemblance.”

“Don’t try to avoid the question by kissing up to my mother.” She was on him now.

He blinked. “Oh, my apologies.” And bowed deeply. “Your mother is wise too, but this time I was talking about Virnan Shah. He asked that question as well in a similar manner.”

He chuckled. “The intelligence of your family is quite deep.”

She ignored his platitudes. “You’ve met with grand-uncle? And lived after telling him all was fake?”

“I didn’t tell him all was fake, as I am not telling it now. Math is a language, created by us to explain the fundamental logic of this world. Our minds observed the patterns in our lives and came up with mental tools to summarize these patterns into something simpler. Easier to think about. Concepts. Uniting our perception on the amounts and forms.”

“And the reason the postulates are unshaken is that they are tautologies. They are true by their own definition. And I didn’t just live after telling him all that. I got this instead.” He finished, fishing out the medallion.

Her eyes opened wide seeing the Golden Gestr. Her grand-uncle could grant them even if he never did before. She felt her directed Flow warp through the runic script feeling Virnan's subtle fingerprints. It was real.

Her mother broke the silence. “While I’ve expected something like this from you, I find it ironic that you started the subject of numbers by telling her they weren’t real.”

Anaise mind whirred around the revelations and their implications. Whoever he was… Erf had managed to gain the attention of the two smartest people she had the pleasure of knowing. And, judging by her mother's unsurprised tone, he did so with similar revelations. She needed time. Time to observe him with greater scrutiny.

While what he said sounded logical, her mind was still fighting it with the years of education she had received already. But now he had proof. A golden seal of approval from someone she was planning to learn from in the future. Just as her mother did when she was young.

Erf smiled and walked back to the blackboard of his. A flat chunk of slate upheld by a sturdy wooden frame. “The reason why I did it is to break away the expectation that numbers should be able to represent something tangible in the real world to exist.” He drew ten symbols on the board. Most of which she never saw before.

“Because, there are definitely numbers that could not be counted with fingers, or described as a ratio. Disregarding these as impossible or imaginary would leave a large chunk of mathematics out.”

“But what would they represent then?” She asked, curious.

“Anything, really. Numbers are there because we needed to describe basic relationships. As we delve deeper into the logic of it all we are bound to reach a certain level where current numbers are simply unable to go beyond. Choosing to step further we invent new numbers and relationships just as our ancestors have realized that one or two isn't enough when you need a half.”

“You said it was logical, does it mean you can calculate the truth with it? By creating a new number?”

Erf continued to smile, making her uncomfortable with her question. “Technically we have already done so.” As he drew two familiar symbols.

Compared to the previous ten, that he had carefully drawn, these were a bit haphazard. He drew the lines showing which two of the ten symbols they were. As if it wasn’t obvious.

“One and Zero. True and False.” He quipped.

She couldn’t stop herself from looking back at her mother. She felt a tiny spark of satisfaction seeing the dumbfounded look on her face as well. The Orb clutched in her hand. A sharp glow of a familiar line above it.

True.

Anaise wanted to say something but decided against it. Instead, she rummaged through the table and pulled out a parchment, pushing her wax tablet aside.

His next words were accompanied by the quiet rustle of two feathers.

XXX

“Do you think she would let me?” Yeva asked. She sat curled in my lap as I stroked her hair, her gentle breath on my collarbone.

“We will find out, soon,” I ruffed her hair, thinking about my day.

Contrary to my fears, Anaise was a polite and diligent girl. And the nearly clear copy of her mother. She was similarly short, Her long red hair, and large vulpine ears would make it nearly impossible to distinguish them from the back. She did lack that aura of regality her mother had, but her emerald green eyes shone with similar intelligence as the ambers of her mother. Both pairs crowned by expressively thick eyebrows. Both having expressively fluffy tails.

Soon my door creaked open as Irje walked in nonchalantly.

“Oh, you are already back?” She blinked seeing us clearly expecting her.

“Woman, this is my house! Of course, I will be back.” I huffed as Yeva giggled in my arms.

“Very funny, But really how did it go?” Her face expectant and curious.

“Pretty well actually, I was afraid I won’t cut it, but she listened to me diligently.”

“You expected anything else with the Gestr on your neck?” Irje looked at me like I was feeble-minded.

“Maybe,” I mumbled to the combined snickers of the crowd. “But that means I should teach you as well! You will rue this day in the future!” I said with the most convincing voice I could muster.

“What, learn things that the Lady of the House is learning?” Irje ignored my theatrics outright. “Gladly.”

A tug on my shirt. “Umm. Can I learn too?”

“Of course, Yeva. As if I let you slack off while Irje carries the burden.”

A tighter hug. “Thanks. Umm, about the other thing…”

“Ah yes.” I nodded. “Irje, remember the question I asked Yeva before, about whether she was comfortable with you around? What about you?”

Irje blinked. “Well I brought her over didn’t I? I thought I was obvious. And as you noticed, she is very nice to cuddle. Especially lately, if I could close my eyes it was as if I was cuddling you.”

“Irje!” Yeva hissed, scandalized.

“Now, now. I wasn’t asking about that, I did get that part. I was asking about your punishment.”

Irje’s eyes slowly widened to nearly comical levels as I pulled out a bundle of ropes.