The Innocence of Teacups

When morning came Alaric slept on. With Lignum promising to guard the room in his absence he ventured into town to see what, if anything, was being said about last night’s ruckus.

People walked the streets in tight groups. He was the only person he saw walking alone. Not to worry, spirits wouldn’t attack him in broad daylight, would they? Uncertain he quickened his pace.

Having nowhere else to go he checked in with Fredrick to see if any of his furniture had been sold. His round serpent table and four chairs stood looking lost in a corner. There was no sight of the chest of drawers.

Fredrick sat at a bureau running fingers idly through a quill. “Alexander Pelevin, I see you’ve returned from your voyage without disease.” The furniture seller put down his quill and rummaged through a drawer, finding out a piece of parchment. “Your chest of drawers drew quite a crowd. If you still want to do business with me I require some chairs, cabinets, and more drawers. Everything is written down here. No vulgar serpents, just flowers please.”

He took the parchment which was held out to him and scanned his eyes down the list. “Twelve silver for a chair.” He started folding up the parchment and got no reaction from Fredrick. “Eleven.”

“Ten.”

“Eleven.” He slipped the parchment into his pocket. This action made Fredrick nod then hold out a hand to him. Ignoring this gesture, he bowed instead.

“Zoticans,” grumbled Fredrick. “I don’t see what is wrong with a decent firm handshake to close a deal. But a deal we have and I hope you will stick to it Zotican. Zotican! I must have gone soft.”

“What is wrong with being a Zotican?”

“You don’t know when to leave well alone. Delving into light magic attracted spirits to your country.”

“You’ve no proof that is why spirits are hostile towards us.”

“Spirits dislike magic or they wouldn’t have been in this very town last night hunting a warlock. Magic and spirits give me the shivers. Even Brudbree’s rattled.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s holding a town meeting about last night. I shouldn’t think he’d call for a meeting unless he was worried about something.”

With nothing else to do until nightfall he figured attending this town meeting could be in some way beneficial. Of course it could be. Knowing what a Kazaran mayor’s opinions were about spirits would reflect how threatened the country was feeling. Politics fun. He left Fredrick to fiddle about with his quill. Wind cut through him as he navigated himself along the streets to the Town Hall, where all public meetings led by a mayor were usually held.

Outside the large stone thatched roofed Town Hall were a cluster of Windmill Coast residents. At the head of them, practically on the doorstep, was a volley of disgruntled people in weathered clothes. Quite a few of them sported dreadlocks; they must be sailors. He edged over to the back of the waiting crowd where more reserved citizens stood. The kind who preferred to muddle on with life never dreaming of putting in complaints at a town meeting yet here they were.

The longer they were made to wait getting buffeted by a chill wind which blew in from the ocean, the more agitated everyone got. The sailors banged at the door calling out impatient remarks, whilst others huddled against the building trying to shield themselves from the wind. He took to folding his arms and occasionally hopped from one foot to another to try keeping warm. When the door was finally opened the sailors charged in keen to get some answers. They hijacked all the available chairs, leaving everyone else to stand.

Mayor Brudbree was seated on a raised platform with his hands clasped together atop a table. His hair was white and thinning, and he’d required an even rounder pot belly since he’d last seen him. The memory of Freyr telling Brudbree where to stick his job made him smirk then bite his bottom lip; stealing challises had been wrong. On Brudbree’s right sat a straight faced woman with a thick ledger, her quill poised ready to write down important details. On his left was Captain Larissa, who aimed a smile at her fellow sailors. She got mostly scowls in return.

“How satisfying to see our Town Hall full. There are usually more seats than bodies at my meetings.” At Mayor Brudbree’s words all coughs and utterances faded to silence. “I hear you are all worried about someone attracting spirits to our town.”

“Yes her,” said a sailor on the front row and pointed at Larissa. “They were waiting for her ship to make port because she was harbouring a warlock.”

“I wasn’t harbouring anyone. I was taking some passengers to and from Vulcan.”

“You ferried a warlock about and because of this my boat got set alight.”

“How’s that my fault? I can’t do background checks on all my passengers; we’d never set sail.” Larissa leaned forward on her chair looking as though she’d launch herself at the next sailor who said a word against her.

“Squabbling about where this warlock came from won’t bring back your boats. We were lucky no one got killed. Those spirits are gone now so we will be thankful and move on,” cut in Brudbree before the sailors started yelling at each other. “I will assess any damage to boats and see what can be done. We’ve really nothing to be worried about.”

“What about that vampyre?” asked the man from last night who’d been poking Alaric with a stick. “Are we not to worry about those blood suckers either?”

Mentioning vampyres caused everyone to erupt into chatter. He looked at his boots hoping no one would remember his face from last night. Coming to this meeting might turn out to be a grand mistake on his part. Luckily for him the man from last night was too busy arguing with Brudbree to notice him.

“Vampyres here in Windmill Coast don’t be absurd,” shouted Brudbree over all the chattering. “No vampyres have been sighted for hundreds of years.”

“I saw one. It was deathly white and the wicked warlock was friends with it.”

“I distinctly remember seeing the warlock ride out of town with spirits chasing him. You’re making up scenarios,” said Larissa.

“If you don’t believe me ask my cousin, he was there. We saw the warlock glowing. Threatened to burn down town he did if we destroyed the vampyre.”

“Captain Larissa saw the warlock being chased out of town and vampyres are extinct. I want an end to this nonsense. You must have seen something else.”

“I saw a hideous vampyre. We should hunt it down and kill it.”

There were words of agreement from most. How could people judge someone on what they were rather than who? He drew in a breath wanting to tell everyone how pleasant a vampyre Alaric was.

“You saw no such thing. There are no vampyres in my town.”

“What if there are?” asked the woman stood next to him. “I doubt your guards can protect us. We don’t have defences like they have in Zoticas. No Sapphire Knights or mighty soldiers will keep us safe from spirits or vampyres or warlocks. I think you should report all these repulsive activities to the king.”

“I am not reporting fairy tales to King Laurie.”

“Those spirits weren’t fairy tales,” said the woman.

“Neither were the vampyre and warlock,” chimed in someone else.

“Enough with the vampyre! I don’t won’t to hear about vampyres again this season. Spirits I can sympathise with however I am sure they will not come back. They wanted some Zotican sorcerer not a Windmill Coast resident.”

“How do you know this sorcerer was from Zoticas? Demons forbid a Kazaran would be capable of magic,” said Larissa.

“You would say that having a Zotican father,” said a sailor.

“I’m not listening to this anymore. Magic and vampyres do not exist in my town and never will. I will find a way to sort out damages to the harbour, and see if there is a way to help with loss of boats. Let that be an end to last night’s affairs. This meeting is dismissed.”

Brudbree got up to leave however no one else went anywhere. They were all arguing amongst themselves wherever there had been vampyres or not. The sailors were in uproar against Captain Larissa for having a soft spot for Zoticans. Brudbree slunk off through a back door leaving everyone still wary about spirits. Nothing was resolved then again town communities liked to debate and point fingers. Not wanting to get tangled up in their views and politics he made for the door. The best thing he could do would be to get Alaric out of Windmill Coast before an angry mob hunted him down. Too bad there were still numerous hours of daylight left.

On returning to his room at The Four Windmills he was greeted to Alaric and Lignum having a raging debate while eating a platter of salad from goodness knows where. Had they stolen that food? Most likely seen as the Vulfgangs lived solely off the land and Lignum certainly had no human currency. Leaving them alone wasn’t the cleverest thing he’d ever done. At least Alaric looked as though he’d recovered from the magical light.

“You didn’t see those carvings they were over the top,” said Lignum.

“Carvings don’t hurt anybody,” said Alaric.

“No but people hurt dark sorcerers who cast carvings. Are you trying to get him lynched?”

“Of course not.” Alaric grinned at him. “You’re sensible enough not to let anyone see you wield magic aren’t you Eagle?”

“Yeah. Where did you get all that salad from?”

“You’ll have to come closer my eyes still aren’t adjusting properly. You’re a dark blob from way over by the door.”

He went to sit on the edge of Alaric’s bed. “Where’s this salad come from? I hope you didn’t steal it.”

“Not me personally. Your pixie is a little thief.”

“Don’t change the subject night waster; I want you to stay away from Eagle before you lead him any further down a fiery path of infidelity.”

“It is not my fault the world is ignorant to the art of dark magic.”

“Yet you’re okay turning him into a dangerous outcast like yourself. He’s learning magic because of what Freyr did. Don’t you think your teachings are at least slightly reckless?”

“Blah blah blahdee blah.” Alaric went over to a mirror hung on the wall, took it down, and sat next to him, holding the mirror in front of his face. “What does Alexander Pelevin look like?”

“I guess he’s got a distinctive look about him. Someone you wouldn’t forget in a hurry.”

“Show me.”

“I don’t know how. Are you sure I’m ready?”

“I’m told you glowed gold without my input and carved a masterpiece in a whole cabin so you must be ready. Think hallucination.”

“I don’t want to permanently change myself.”

“If that is in your mind it won’t happen. Give Eagle a mask. Show me.”

“This is wrong,” said Lignum.

After finding some shadow to use he studied his face in the mirror despite Lignum’s protests. Alexander would have short blond hair which was always tidy. His skin would be pale and eyes... hrm they would be a startling green. You rarely saw someone with both blond hair and green eyes. Goodness his facial features had changed in the mirror.

“Don’t panic. It’s just an illusion. I can prove it.” Alaric flicked at where his hair used to dangle against his shoulder. He felt that hair move but only saw blond short hair in the mirror. Phew an illusion indeed. He smiled and put a chink in his mask’s nose. What else could he do? Before he had chance the mask shimmered then went away. “Very good for your first time.”

“But I only held it for a moment.”

“With practise you will be able to hold your illusion for longer periods of time. Don’t force the magic when your illusion starts shimmering away or you will drain yourself.” Alaric placed the mirror in his lap and looked into the glass. There was no reflection. How eerie not to be able to see yourself in a mirror. “I don’t mind. Having never experienced having a reflection I find it impossible to miss,” said Alaric cheerily. With long fingers Alaric tapped at glass. “Spirits worry me. They’re infuriated at you. I wanted to warn you they were waiting at the harbour. Maybe your disguise will help you to evade them. In the meantime I could pay Queen Kella a visit and reason with her somehow. I am after all a protector of the night.”

“But I am not a night creature. I’m human. Don’t go pleading for me.”

Tap tap tap went Alaric’s fingers. He looked as though he was trying to think up an alternate plan to keep spirits away from him.

“Don’t worry about me I’m getting skilled at running away from trouble.”

“True true,” agreed Lignum. “I think he enjoys being chased.”

“As long as they don’t catch you. Spirits are restless with Zoticas, especially its Sapphire Knights. I fear something big is brewing although I know what not. Be cautious won’t you?”

“I can do caution.”

At that Alaric hung the mirror back up and on doing so his usual mischievous air returned. “Does your pixie require a portaling home?” asked Alaric as he opened up a wardrobe to have a snoop inside.

“I’m not his pixie and yes I could do with returning to Spira. My students will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.”

“Then we must journey to a place where I can open a portal as soon as the suns sink. What are your plans Eagle? I suppose you’ll be staying on here tonight and heading off come morning.”

Not wanting to admit he was out of coins he said. “I’ll travel with you to your portal zone. Staying by myself at this inn would be boring.” Then he could head off to steal some more of Freyr’s customers by flogging Ana some herbs at Kazara’s biggest vegetable and flower market.

Alaric clapped. “How delightful.”

“Should you be travelling at night?” asked Lignum.

“Yes. I can’t let a rabble of spirits frighten me into staying indoors.”

Lignum glared at Alaric with globe like eyes. “A moment ago you were fearing for his safety now you encourage him to be reckless.”

“Eagle is not a child. Actually, is seventeen classed as a child in human years?”

“To some. I grew up fast.” A proper childhood was something he’d never experienced. What with Freyr’s schemes and dysfunctional mood patterns, not forgetting those assassin lessons, there’d been no time to play and be carefree. Blood and falling bodies taunted his memories. No innocence save for teacups and cherry blossom trees.