Look Beyond What You See

I stare at the letter in shock. A physical manifestation of her dark powers might have been preferable to the verbal manifestation her elaborate handwriting contained. I simply cannot believe her nerve, although I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me, knowing Grandmother. And she probably expects that the necklace has started working, since she has not received any complaints from the Berkeleys, at least, not to my knowledge. Dmitri would have told me, I’m sure....

Dmitri takes the letter from my hand and reads it quickly, his temperature rising in anger with every line. I have to snatch it from his hands to keep it from bursting into flame. The singed edges release a faint trail of smoke towards the ceiling. Something about his fire triggers a reaction in the parchment. The whole page turns black and flies out of my hand to hover in midair in front of me. It crackles loudly for a few seconds.

SNAP!

A bright purple light bursts through the room and recollects in the center of the black page, where it spreads out into an approximation of Xenia’s sharp, prideful features.

SNAP!

The face comes alive, protruding from the parchment and glaring at us with angry purple eyes. Dmitri’s arm wraps around my waist, a small measure of comfort as we are scrutinized by the blazing spectre of my grandmother.

“So, you tried to burn my letter, did you? That wasn’t very kind,” Xenia chides. I wonder if this is a spell-message tucked into the paper, or if we are actually conversing with her. I wait for her to continue. Dmitri seems to be searching for a reply that is both polite and scathing and accordingly says nothing. “Well? Haven’t you anything to say for yourselves?” A real conversation, then. I must still be relatively high in her favour, for her to bother gracing me with such an honour.

“It was an accident, Grandmother. Dmitri’s element, you know. He was upset about something that happened at training this morning and he lost control of his temperature for a few moments. Please forgive us,” I intercede humbly, eyes lowered to show respect I do not feel. For now, this is the best approach. I can feel the spectre’s angry purple eyes roving us sceptically, searching for evidence contrary to my claim. Dmitri, please play along.

“Dmitri, you seem to have something you wish to say. Out with it,” the parchment head demands roughly.

“Although I must admit that I feel that your message was somewhat insensitive to my fiancée’s more delicate sensibilities, I never intended to set the letter ablaze. Indeed, that would have been most imprudent,” Dmitri answers diplomatically. Thank you.

“More delicate sensibilities? Ha! Aerys has never been ladylike, and delicate sensibilities are quite removed from her. I wrote what was proper under the circumstances, considering the gravity of the political situation in Europe at the moment and the injured feelings of an ignored grandmother, and I will not be reproached by a mere boy about my conduct.”

“If I have never been ladylike, Grandmother, that is a reflection on the way you raised me,” I point out, moved to be perhaps less than prudent out of an unexpected burst of loyalty to my fiancé.

“And a good one, too! You’re the special one. You weren’t meant to fritter your life away being ladylike, like your mother and sisters. Worthless fools, the lot of them. But you, my pet... You are different. You have the gift. And I fully expect that you will use it the way I have always intended you to.”

“Begging your pardon, Your Ladyship, but would your imperative not contradict the agreement set up between your family and mine, of which Aerys is the keystone? Is she not obligated to become a member of my family and do as my family wishes? Have you forgotten where my parents owe their loyalty?” Dmitri inquires testily. I wince and brace myself for the fallout. Grandmother will not take that well.

“You and Aerys will convince them to reactivate their free agent status.” Grandmother’s voice has taken on the hypnotic, spooky tone she often uses while touching the crystal that hangs at her throat. My necklace starts to get warmer, but I have absolutely no inclination to obey this woman. Grandmother repeats herself more sternly. The necklace gets hotter and I squeak from the pain. Dmitri puts a hand on my necklace and the heat begins to lessen; he must be drawing it to himself. My hand finds his necklace and I wince at the cold. It must be torturing him. But I have no sway over ice. Still, there has to be something I can do.

The cold seeps into me with a mental call--it’s much the same concept as how my invisibility works--and Dmitri audibly sighs with relief. Grandmother shrieks her previous injunction. A dark wind whips up in the room. The electric lights begin to flicker, the curtains around the windows abruptly snap closed, and all the torches and candles in the room sputter out. Dmitri and I huddle closer together. Please just let this be over. Isn’t there any way to make her go away? Dmitri’s grip around me tightens as the wind picks up. An impulse from him, for a course of action. As you please.

“We will not,” he and I say together in a scary burst of synchronicity. The wind abruptly stops and the ferocious purple eyes bore into us, impelling us to reconsider.

“Why don’t you talk to them about it? They are not particularly likely to listen to us, especially about so serious a matter. We’ve had to fight every step of the way to be able to plan aspects of our own wedding,” Dmitri adds petulantly. To my surprise, the black parchment-head seems to be considering this.

“Perhaps you have a point. I may condescend to write them on the matter. Regardless, I expect you, Aerys, to do all you can to persuade them. All that this letter contains still stands. And if you try to burn it again, even accidentally, I will visit in person, and you will rue that day for as long as you live.” She follows that chilling warning with an unearthly cackle that echoes louder and louder. The wind picks up again, and just as I’m starting to wonder if she’s actually just going to destroy us here and now--

SNAP!

The purple light flashes through the room one last time, more blinding than before. By the time it fades, the letter has fluttered to the floor, having resumed its original condition. I tremblingly retrieve it, only to drop it again with a squeak of pain when something on the back of the letter scorches my hand. It turns over as it falls, allowing me to read the jagged purple writing on the back of the page:

OBEY, OR SUFFER ALL THE AGONY OF HELL

“A lovely woman, your grandmother. We should have her visit more often,” Dmitri mutters ironically.

“Oh, indeed. I’ve missed her ever so much,” I reply in kind before turning serious as I stare at the cursed parchment on the floor. “Dmitri, what do we do?”

“We take it to luncheon, show it to my father, and let him know about the lovely supernatural visitation we just had.”

“I’m not sure what good that will do, but if you think that’s best, then that’s what we shall do.” I sigh heavily, wishing for the billionth time that I came from a more agreeable family. “I just hope your mother’s not at luncheon today.”

***~O~***