Chapter 79 - The Farm in Irttat
Chapter 79: The Ship of Exile 13
The result was obvious. With everyone watching, not a single person raised an objection.
And just like that, Lucita became an Advanced Mage.
As for the title of Senior Mage, it was not, in theory, a rank that could simply be conferred. Kenting had no candidate qualified to conduct a Senior Mage examination.
The title was more a customary designation, granted only when one’s strength had been acknowledged by all, when one could truly claim the highest seat in the magical world, becoming a figure whose every move could influence the fate of a nation.
Of course, Lucita knew nothing of this. She had almost no knowledge of the rank system humans had imposed upon magic.
So when she finished by asking, with a hint of lingering appetite, "Are there any more exams above this?" and received a negative answer, she finally settled down.
By convention, she would be granted the honorary title of Marquess, though no domain would accompany it.
The arena in which the mage-lords of the Spring Tower competed was not territorial, nor was it a contest for military or political power, but the absolute measure of individual strength. The primary means by which they gained real power also stemmed from this. Plainly put: whoever had the bigger fist.
An Advanced Fire Mage could easily level a palace; an Advanced Wind Mage could conjure terrifying tornadoes; an Earth mage could split the ground; a Water mage could unleash floods.
In a sense, though they lacked extensive fiefdoms and legions of subjects, and everything they possessed and influenced came from the individual alone, the things they wanted were rarely beyond their reach.
Those who craved power would move through political circles, associating with lords who wielded secular authority; those devoted to research and the pursuit of greater strength could just as well live comfortably within the mage towers, their glory enduring.
As that heap of diamonds was broken down and melted away, all of this was laid before Lucita.
After the gathered Advanced Mages had each nodded their assent, Lady Duren produced the Advanced Mage certification, and had each of them press their unique deep-crimson wax seal upon it in turn. Then she solemnly sealed it in duplicate, handing one copy to Lucita.
From this day forward, a new coat of arms would be carved upon the Kingdom's Stone of Glory. A new family name might appear in parliament; this coat of arms would also bear Lucita's Marquess medallion, serving as proof of her identity.
When Lady Duren asked her about the matter of a coat of arms, Astrid had assumed that Lucita, a commoner recommended by Anastasia, would choose to bind herself entirely to the House of Callen.
Unexpectedly, Lucita did no such thing.
She had no coat of arms. After a moment's thought, she simply took paper and brush, leaned over the workbench, and sketched a rough design for Duren — not any emblem or symbol, but simply the name "LUCITA" written out.
It surprised everyone present.
Even a willful child who wanted to inscribe words directly on their coat of arms would normally choose their surname, not a solitary given name.
Perhaps she was narcissistic, wishing to etch her own name permanently into the annals of her future family’s history. Or perhaps it was simply the eccentricity of a genius.
In any case, all of this was a trivial matter before Lucita's new title.
Her coat of arms had yet to be engraved, and the King’s letter of ennoblement had yet to be issued, yet this young and immensely promising would-be noble was already being weighed and assessed by everyone present.
Draw her in? Remain neutral? Keep a distance? What was her relationship with the House of Callen? What influence might she have in the undercurrents stirring through the political world of late?
Each person harbored her own calculations. Under the eyes of all, only polite congratulations were offered. Not a soul stepped forward to speak.
Perhaps countless deliberations were silently churning in that moment, but Lucita had no interest in any of it.
She thanked Lady Duren, accepted her Advanced Mage certification, and let the congratulations behind her fall to the floor as she walked straight downstairs and out of the towering spire.
She had her talisman now. She could go and do what she actually wanted to do.
As usual, the tram left at three in the afternoon. Today it came ten minutes early. Fortunately, Lucita had finished her examination in good time and caught it perfectly.
She was home early, and even had the leisure to detour through the market and pick up some difficult-to-prepare ingredients, intending to cook her friends a taste of home.
Lately, they had practically been developing sugar allergies from the endless sweet soups and sweet breads.
Even so, Lucita still swung by the East District and brought back a slice of apple cream cake.
In these northern cities, fruit was considerably more expensive than in Irttat, but the upside was a stable cultivated supply, unlike back home where one relied almost entirely on the forest and the seasons, picking wild apples from the woods.
Moreover, there were many cake shops in these large cities, and the more expensive ones baked cakes that often tasted better than Teresa's bakery back home. Lucita had always felt it was a pity that Teresa's sweets were too heavy on butter and not airy enough.
This particular shop's cake was not only pleasant in texture, but had the added virtue of not being overly sweet, which suited Lucita and her friends perfectly.
When she arrived home, she was greeted by the halting strains of a piano.
Linnea had grown quite proficient at piano lately; it was rare for her to stumble like this anymore.
"Is she learning a new piece?" Lucita asked.
Violet, reading by the fireplace, blinked. "I'd guess it's one of her little friends playing."
Lucita set down the groceries she'd bought in the kitchen and asked casually, "Which family's child?"
“All from the same street,” Violet replied. “The lawyer Jima’s family, the shopkeeper Charlotte’s family, a few others. I can’t quite keep track of them all.”
"She makes friends quickly," Lucita said, hanging her coat on the rack by the stairs. She climbed up and knocked on the music room door.
The one who opened it was Linnea.
Linnea was wearing Violet's tall boots, Lucita's black cloak, and carrying the white cane Lucita had used when she was blind — an absurdly comical outfit.
Seeing Lucita arrive, she smiled with a hint of guilt. "Sister Luci, you're back?"
Behind her, seated on the piano bench, was a somewhat skinny girl wearing a faded cotton blouse, who stopped playing when Lucita entered and stepped down from the bench nervously.
There were four or five children in the room, all wearing strangely assembled outfits, oversized skirts, aprons, and what looked like bedsheets. Whatever they had been doing, they froze the moment Lucita appeared.
"What are you all doing?" Lucita asked, perplexed.
“We’re performing a dance drama!” Perhaps out of guilt over the borrowed clothes, Linnea looked flustered as she tried to push Lucita back out. “Shoo, shoo! Don’t look!”
Lucita glanced at Delphine's translucent figure perched on the windowsill watching everything with amusement, and burst out laughing.
The child had no idea Delphine had been watching the whole thing from start to finish.
She surveyed the room, taking in this gaggle of oddly costumed children. She swallowed the words "do you want to put on a concert?" that had been forming in her mind, and instead gripped Linnea's shoulders, eyes bright: "Do you want to put on a musical? Like the Summer Festival and Autumn Celebration back home?"
The girl at the piano startled, her right hand pressing instinctively onto the keys, and a loud, resonant thud rang out.
By dinner time.
The evening meal was a savory fish broth, simmered with their own spices. The fish was rainbow shad from the lower reaches of the River Gloire, firm yet tender, with few bones, a popular spring variety, its only flaw being that it was somewhat expensive.
For Lucita, who had a chest of gold coins added to her accounts today, "somewhat expensive" was hardly a concern.
She happily busied herself preparing a full table of dishes, lit the decorative silver candles at the center of the table, and settled in to enjoy a long-missed proper meal.
This was one of Linnea's favorite soups, but tonight Linnea had no attention to spare for it.
She held the sheet music Lucita had transcribed for her, fingers unconsciously tapping out the beat, replaying in her mind the story Lucita had told her that afternoon: "…and so Franka died, and her song was lost from the world forever."
Good music can carry extraordinary force, and from that perspective, Starfire was a breathtaking composition.
Linnea had grown up surrounded by music, but music that moved her like this was nearly without precedent in her life.
Lucita's repeated warning still rang in her ears: "This piece is not well-loved by certain people, and could bring you some danger because of it. Of course, the likelihood of that is quite small now, and I won't let anything happen to any of you. But I still want to warn you, my dear. If you want to perform it, you need to explain that clearly to your friends."
The notes danced across the page, lamplight falling on Linnea’s blue eyes.
Here, a leisurely dinner. Elsewhere, a piece of news enough to shake the political world was spreading rapidly: a new Advanced Mage, a new Marquess, only eighteen years old, a prodigious and terrifying talent with boundless potential, bearing a surname no one had heard of, a commoner from the south… had emerged today.
Countless eyes turned toward what must have seemed, to the high nobility, a rather modest little courtyard: No. 21 Briar Street received a new set of unfamiliar faces passing by each day.
This, of course, could not escape the sharp eyes of the residents of No. 21 Briar Street.
To say nothing of Lucita herself, a healthy Violet possessed terrifying natural gifts. Every flower and blade of grass was an extension of her vision.
Beyond that, both Delphine in her concealed state and Linnea the merfolk with her acutely sensitive spirit could easily detect all of this.
Lucita offered a brief explanation of the situation, and everyone expressed understanding without difficulty, accepting it all without a hitch, then went back to their daily routines.
They sat at the center of this boiling pot, moving with the ease of people strolling through a garden, utterly untroubled.
The weak are always easily startled by the rustling of wind and grass. Lucita understood this and bore it all with magnanimous forbearance.
As long as they didn't overstep, she'd let them do as they pleased.
Life on Briar Street went on as before. And then, seemingly at last, Lucita's coat of arms was ready. A week later, she received a summons from the King.
It sounded like an uncommon honor, and would mark Lucita’s entry into political life, her first step toward influencing the kingdom. Many were quietly waiting for this moment, eager to assess her political value.
That day, Lucita finished her breakfast, threw on her usual coat, and walked out the door.
The royal messenger at her gate haltingly conveyed her hope that Lucita might change into formal attire, and was rebuffed with a simple "I think my clothes are perfectly tidy." She then accompanied this new Marquis, who did not even own a carriage, as she waited ten minutes for the public tram. She endured a half-hour ride packed into the tram, and arrived at the royal palace looking distinctly green.
From Lucita's point, the King looked considerably less imposing than she'd imagined.
Her understanding of this world came almost entirely from a pile of books she'd read the previous winter. The books described the King as mighty and wise, cultivating in Lucita an overly rosy fantasy. So when she saw the somewhat pudgy, somewhat short woman before her, her face betrayed a flash of surprise.
She glanced around. Three Advanced Mages wearing Marquess medallions were seated before the King, watching her with cautious eyes.
What Lucita didn't know was that these were the King's confidants, present as a protective guard.
Under ordinary circumstances, ministers summoned before the King were required to relinquish their swords, but mages needed no weapons to cause harm. When receiving a mage, the King required the protection of absolutely loyal mage guards to ensure her own safety.
Lucita only noted that Astrid, her nominal teacher, was not among them, then lost interest in the three entirely.
The King asked her several basic questions. Lucita believed her answers were reasonably polite and thorough, but it was unclear to her why the King’s expression remained faintly displeased throughout.
She accepted her mage seal ring, her noble's seal ring, and the coat of arms engraved on a page of gold, thanked the king sincerely, and left the royal court with her things.
Whatever the case, the name "Marquis Cameron" was now carved on the Stone of Glory, and Lucita could now move with considerably more freedom.
She returned home laden with rewards, having also enjoyed a complimentary tour of the magnificent royal palace, and felt well satisfied.
With these "credentials" in hand, the production of Linnea's musical proceeded far more smoothly.
Just like the Summer Music Festival back in Irttat, their stage performance would be open-air, performed for all who happened to be passing along the street or gathered in the square. No tickets required, no lofty threshold for appreciation.
Linnea had worried about not being able to gather enough young performers, worried about a sparse audience, but she had never once worried about whether she had the right to stand on a stage.
Everyone has the right to appreciate. By the same token, everyone has the right to express. That was a conviction woven into the consciousness of every Irttat resident.
According to Linnea, her friends had originally loved the piece, but after hearing there might be danger, their enthusiasm had cooled. After Lucita's distinctly unusual coat of arms was hung at the door, it seemed to provide her friends with an enormous sense of security, and persuading them became much easier.
In any case, once early summer arrived, a stage had been built at No. 20 Briar Street, in front of the abandoned cemetery.
All of Briar Street knew that a musical requiring no admission would be performed there.
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