139 - Meet the Jevans

They travelled to Lyra’s home via a horse-drawn caravan that had many chips in the wood. It had been painted over with not quite the same shade of brown and hence looked like speckled dirt. The interior also wasn’t insulated enough to keep them from the chilly outdoors, so Lyra had brought a coat for Arielle to wear as they sat on a woven cushion that prickled a little.

“You’ll have to forgive our shabby stead, Arielle,” Lyra’s brother remarked as they ambled. “Father had an important meeting in Sunhill, and so had to make use of our nicer carriage. We haven’t had time to refurbish this old thing yet.”

“It’s alright,” Arielle said. “My family’s caravan was worse.”

"Right,” he said with a chuckle, as though Arielle had made a joke.

Arielle didn’t respond. She was still trying to get over her guilt about not being able to help Lyra, so she spent most of her time staring out the window, distracting herself with the view.

Lyra was from the Greenfinger town of Haylock, which was a day and a half's journey from Fenway, on the other side of the group of lands regarded as Greenfinger territory. Arielle had checked the distance, specifically because she wanted to know how long it would take to visit Lyra after she went home, should she need to make another trip.

“How’s your week been so far, Ari?” Lyra asked.

Arielle thought about everything she had done since school vacated, including finding the spirit path for a dragon and helping free it from agitation, stopping said dragon from laying waste to a city, analyzing a demon’s soul, and almost getting tagged by said demon.

Of course, none of those were things she could tell Lyra.

“It was alright,” she lied, making sure to look out of the window so Lyra wouldn't catch her eyes straying upwards. “Uneventful.”

“Mine was anything but,” Lyra said. “My cousins are visiting from Thistleway, with my aunt–not the priestess, the other one–and they’ve been driving us all up a wall. One of them set fire to the barn. We don't even know where he found the firestarter. And the other one made up his own language and insists on only communicating in that language. Worst of all, he won't teach it to us. We've offered to learn to play along with his ridiculousness, but he says we can't learn it. Can you imagine? And then there's Walter, who's just very...Walter. They're all boys, also. Maybe that’s the problem. Do you know what it's like to have only male cousins? I prayed and prayed for Aunt Thea to get a girl, but nope. Another boy. I'm the only female cousin of our generation. It's like we're cursed or something."

"Nice to know you think my existence is a curse, dear sister," Florian said.

"Oh, not you. You're tolerable at least, when you're not in one of your moods. Although, you're a nutcase sometimes and may yet get our entire family beheaded for one of your soft-brained conspiracy theories.”

Florian grinned, but Lyra's eyes zeroed in on Ari.

“That’s the point where you laugh, Arielle,” Lyra said.

Ari let out what she thought was a convincing enough chuckle, but it made Lyra snort, and her brother eyed her quizzically.

Lyra filled her in through most of the ride, talking endlessly about her cousins and all their mischief. Meanwhile, Arielle paid attention with half an ear, most of her attention on the long path that led to Lyra’s home. It was vast cornfields and wheatfields to the right, but they landed on a patch of it that looked pretty sparse.

“Growing season is over, right?" Ari asked.

“Yes,” Florian answered. “The harvest hasn’t been what it could be. Not for years, and every year it’s less and less.”

“Oh.” Arielle had known that the Greenfingers claimed to have lower-than-expected yield year after year, but her father and, to some extent, her mother had claimed that it was grossly exaggerated, a borderline conspiracy so that they could cheat the Mossbornes of grain they were entitled to, while demanding more protection from them.

But seeing it now, it was hard for her to believe that it was all a lie. There were patches of sparse land in between bountiful growth.

“Is this all caused by the rifts and the mossgiants in the Southern Border?”

“Some of it is,” Florian said. “I have my own theories on what's really going on, but I don't want to launch into another soft-brained conspiracy as my loving sister would describe them."

"Hmm." Speaking of the Southern Border, Arielle recalled there were warriors there still, which meant the frequency of rifts was as bad as it had always been, or perhaps worse. She wondered what was causing it.

Perhaps Vittoria or Elric would know, or maybe they might have theories, especially since whatever was going on was killing the earth.

The wheatfields led to rows of homes in continuous spirals until they reached one at the edge, on a slight hill that led to a ravine.

There was a series of thatched cottages on a compound with a larger central building, pillars made of climbing vines, and a well-trimmed rosebush in the front. There was also a garden to the side, and an orchard peeking out from behind the house, one of the trees climbing above their roof.

A field lay adjacent to it, with a lake flowing out to the ravine.

Lyra’s home was broad and lively, to say the least.

As the caravan stopped, it seemed a little like the flora and fauna were fighting for dominance, the greenery surrounding the home stealing her attention from the sheer cacophony emanating from it.

The second they arrived, the door burst open, and a little boy ran out, startlingly naked. He was being chased by an older woman who was swearing at him and who, logic dictated, should have caught up pretty easily given his short legs.

She struggled nonetheless, though that was probably from how slippery the little boy appeared to be. He wove under tables packed with fresh produce, and slipped through spaces in the rosebushes.

“Oh, you cursed little nitwit,” the woman swore. “When I catch you, I swear to the heavens, I will tan your hide.”

"He's probably halfway down the ravine by now, " Lyra said as she hopped out of the caravan, helping Arielle emerge as well.

"And from there it's the pigsty, right after his bath too," the woman said. Though her gaze remained on the path the naked boy had taken, she continued, “Is that your friend Lyra?”

“Yes," she said. “This is Arielle, my best friend and roommate at the academy."

"Lovely to meet you," the woman spared her a quick smile before she said, "I'm sorry you had to meet my son and me under such circumstances. He's usually not such a contrarian."

Before Ari could say anything, she shook her head. "No, I promised Father Berto I would not lie anymore. That boy is the devil's spawn, and my penance for every misdeed I’ve ever committed in this life.”

Lyra giggled. "He's not so bad sometimes. Plus he’s adorable in his own way.”

"He’s only adorable when he's unconscious. I should render him in that condition for as long as possible. Or have Father Berto submerge him in the river enough times until the demon comes out.”

"Why not a regular exorcism?" Florian inquired.

"We tried that. It didn't work."

He snorted. “Come, Arielle. Let's go inside, or Aunt Thea will convince you that we're all barbarians."

"She's a Mossborne,” Thea said. “She should be used to barbarians, no?" The woman winked, and Arielle nodded.

"Yes. My father is one."

"Ha. Now there is a role my Sammy will excel at." As they began to walk away, she added, “Oh, by the way, Lyra, Posey and Carissa stopped by. They wanted to know what time they should come over for breakfast."

“Any time is fine," Lyra said. "At least before twelve."

“That’s what I told them.”

The two girls took the paved path, and Arielle said, “I thought you said you didn’t have female cousins.”

"Posey and Carissa aren't cousins. They're friends from my preparatory school."

Unlawfully taken from NovelPhoenix, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Oh.” The statement gave Arielle pause. She knew that it made sense for Lyra to have other friends. Lyra was popular even amongst their classmates at the academy, and anyone would want to be her friend.

So it only made sense that she probably had a lot of friends before meeting Arielle.

But Arielle wasn’t prepared for the slight jealousy that accompanied the thought, nor the discomfort. Somehow it was different knowing that Lyra was friends with the twins and Maus. Perhaps because Arielle knew them and didn’t feel threatened by their friendship.

Knowing that Lyra had friends before even going to the academy–female friends, at that, which meant she likely had more in common with them–made her feel…uncomfortable.

They walked into the house to find two men having a loud argument in what appeared to be a kitchen. Next to them, a pretty woman who looked exactly like Lyra was baking and carrying on a loud conversation with another older man. Arielle would have judged them to be arguing, except that the two of them were smiling.

And then there were loud hammering sounds coming from deeper in the home, and it was all a little overwhelming.

"This is my other brother, Pollux, and my cousin Walter,” Lyra introduced. "And that's my Uncle, Merl. And that's my mother. Mother, Arielle's here."

Lyra's announcement caught everyone's attention, and the woman stopped baking, dusting her hands on her floured apron.

"Arielle." Lyra's mother beamed, giving her a distant embrace, such that her apron did not touch Ari's cloak. "Oh, it's so lovely to finally meet you. We've heard so, so much about you."

"Yeah, all Lyra's messages are about her amazing roommate and her shenanigans," Pollux said. “Some of which, I’m sure, are exaggerated. Nice to finally see you in person."

“Arielle!" A reedy boy who had a face peppered with pimples and a gap-toothed smile suddenly dashed down the stairs. "Lyra's Arielle?"

"Yes,” Florian said. “And how come we can actually understand you for a change, Walter?"

The boy straightened and then said something in a language Ari did not understand.

Arielle just nodded.

They all began talking to her at once, and about five different conversations were happening at the same time: about Lyra's party, about the market day on Saturday, about the tournament next semester, and a whole bunch of other things. Arielle couldn’t follow most of it, but she tried to nod at the right intervals, searching valiantly for the right, polite things to say.

Eventually, Lyra dragged her away and up a thin, steep staircase to a floor with rooms on the side.

They entered a decently sized, neat room decorated with pink and green walls, and a bay window overlooking the garden.

“So," Lyra said. "This is my bedroom.”

“Okay,” Arielle said, glancing around.

Lyra waited a few seconds, then asked. “What do you think?”

“About what?" Arielle put down her sack that Vittoria had lent her to pack her clothes.

“My home.” Lyra shifted from foot to foot and folded her hands in front of her, seeming uncomfortable. “I know it’s very noisy and you hate noise. And it can get more irritating too.” She gestured with one hand. “The room is also a lot smaller than you’re used to, probably.”

“Not really,” Arielle said. “It’s bigger than my room back in Fenway.”

“Yeah, I bet you have a much more spacious room in Elric’s home. Don’t you?”

Arielle cocked her head. Technically, in Vittoria’s home, she only had a couch, but she guessed that if she had visited Elric, he would have given her a big room, depending on how large his home was.

She shrugged. “I guess.”

Once again, she looked away when she lied, surveying the room in detail since Lyra had asked her opinion of it.

She liked it, overall. It was very organized, with lots of sunlight, overlooking the orchard in the backyard of the home. The furniture looked sturdy and new. It was also colorful, with one wall featuring hand-drawn bouquets.

Arielle trailed her fingers over it. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah,” Lyra said. "When I was eight, I did these.” She pointed at the flowers, which looked the least developed. “And then when I was twelve, I did these.” She shifted her index finger to leaves that had been crafted with paint, showing vibrant colors and painstaking detail. "I was supposed to get a bigger room when I turned twelve, after Pollux went off to the city, but then he decided to stay, for some reason. Father said he would build me a new room anyway, but then there was the flood and a bunch of people lost their homes, and so all our savings went to helping them."

“That's nice of him,” Arielle said.

"Yeah." Lyra smiled. "He takes his job as clan chief very seriously. Although I'm afraid I didn't take it well when he first told me I wouldn't be getting the new room. I threw a tantrum like a brat and made him feel bad. But then after a while, I realized how selfish I was being, and decided to make the best of what I had. Hence, painting more flowers on my room wall."

“I didn’t know you were so skilled at art.”

"Well, I don’t know about skilled,” Lyra said. “I enjoy art. Before my cores came in, I thought I would be a botanist, or an artist. But then I got magic and …" She shrugged. “Well, at least I have that in the back pocket in case this magic thing doesn’t work out.”

Lyra gave a weak laugh, which Arielle only acknowledged with a slight cough.

“I haven’t had much time to practice my painting,” Lyra said. “What with studying and spell work.”

“How many do you have in your Grimoire?”

“Seven,” she said, with some redness dotting her cheeks. “Most of the kids in our class have at least twelve by now.”

“But all your spells are advanced, far more than theirs.”

"Yes, but I also have to perform them well all the time, and sometimes I get nervous and have to cancel the casting before I botch them.” She shrugged. “Anyway, let’s go back to talking about the birthday festivities. I was thinking, after breakfast and before the party, you and I could go watch a play together. Cashmere's playing, but maybe you might enjoy The Magnificent Orange more? It's about a time-traveling tree that saves people.”

A play about a time-traveling tree sounded fascinating, but Lyra said Cashmere was her favorite play and they should watch her favorite play on her birthday. It was only fair.

“Cashmere,” Arielle decided.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because of me?”

“No,” Arielle said, and that was one too many lies today for her nervous system to handle. She ended up looking at the ceiling.

“Ha." Lyra scoffed. "Still such a terrible liar.”

Even though Arielle would only be staying for two days, Lyra helped her unpack and fold her clothes neatly in the closet next to hers. She also excitedly spoke about shopping for new dresses, and Arielle said, “Actually, I will just accompany you for that shopping trip, but I won't buy anything. Maus’ mother is making my dress for the Iverson ball.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said "But you can get other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“Dresses.”

“But Maus mother is already making me one.”

“Yes, but you don’t just need dresses for the ball, do you?”

Arielle cocked her head. “What else would I need them for?”

Lyra gave her a look. “You’re joking, right?” Rather than waiting for Arielle to answer, she continued, "Arielle, you own, in total, about a dozen items of clothing. Most of them are darkly colored shirts and skirts. I mean, I know you’re not a fan of color or anything, but maybe you might want to get something more than just functional.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. To show off your personality.”

“My personality is functional."

Lyra laughed.

“Good point,” she said. “Anyway, I think you should still get more. Just in case you want to go to other balls, so you don’t have to keep repeating dresses.”

Arielle sincerely hoped that she didn’t have to go to any other balls or events like that in general. The fact that she was going to this one was bothersome enough that she was dreading it, though they still had a few weeks before it came to fruition.

After a few minutes, the girls went down once more. It was evening time here already, and Lyra and Arielle helped her mother set up for dinner.

Dinner was just as chaotic an experience as their introduction, once more with so many conversations happening all at once. Arielle was told that several people were not in attendance, including Lyra’s father, her oldest brother, and another aunt, but Ari had no clue how they would manage even more people than were already here.

Arielle valiantly tried to follow and respond well when spoken to, but eventually the noise got to the point where it grated, and Arielle wanted to retreat into herself.

It was like scratching at her ears, the constant din. She had not prepared adequately for this. Yes, her house could get chaotic sometimes too, especially with siblings or her parents who often had loud arguments.

But the sheer amount of people occupying this small space and talking....

She wanted to leave.

She didn’t, though. She knew she couldn’t do it without a good excuse; otherwise, it would be considered rude.

But Lyra suddenly spoke up and said, “Arielle must be tired after a long journey here. I think she wants to go to bed.”

“Does she?” Her mother looked outside the window at the still setting sun. “It’s quite early still.”

“Arielle gets to bed early. Right, Arielle?"

Lyra twitched her left eyebrow, which she'd told Ari previously was a deliberate signal that she was lying and needed Ari to play along.

“Yes.” Arielle got up and yawned, obviously and loudly. "I go to bed early."

“She really is a terrible liar,” Florian said.

“Yup," Lyra said.

“Alright. Arielle,” Lyra’s mother said. “You can go to bed. You too, Lyra. You might as well get an early evening in. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"Okay," Lyra said, and took Arielle’s hand briefly, leading her from the room.

Arielle wondered if it was her imagination or if everyone was extraordinarily quiet and watchful as they left.

“Don’t mind them,” Lyra whispered as they climbed the stairs. “They're just being extra annoying and forcibly jovial because they all feel bad for me. Because of what's about to happen to me. I tried to make it better by showing them the spell you helped me craft, but then I botched it, and they probably think now that I might be exaggerating my skill. They probably think I'll fail out of the academy soon too."

Arielle didn't know what to say. She didn’t know how to make Lyra feel better. Her throat was tight, and she said, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault,” Lyra said. “It’s stupid Aunt Ida’s fault. My mother wants to kill her, and so does my father. Unfortunately, they can't access the temple, and she won’t be coming for my birthday, although she did send a card. The cheek of her.” Lyra sighed. "She's probably looking forward to me taking her place, so she can be free."

She opened the door, letting Arielle back into her room, while still ranting about her Aunt Ida. In fact, the rant continued far into the night as they lay in bed together and Arielle tried her hardest to think of things to make this entire situation less terrible for Lyra.

They didn't sleep, even late into the night,

They watched the sky through the window as the moon came up. They waited as the seconds ticked by.

Until it was officially the day Lyra would lose the rest of her cores forever.