by Talis Jones
“The Island is magical,” Medusa pointed out. “Surely this cannot come as such a surprise to you.”
“So that's it?” Cassandra pressed, looking betwixt her companions. “They just don't work? But the mechanics are so rudimentary. It is simply a spark that sets a highly reactive powder to explode and propel an object out of the gun's barrel and into its target. Fires are used every day in Oneiroi, how can the Island deny this?”
Medusa's brows were lifted in surprise. “Now I think you the curiosity with such unexpected knowledge in your head.”
“I'm only trying to understand this new place I must call home and my station within it as a guardian.”
The petite Whisper scrutinized her for a moment before acquiescing. “Guns and similar weapons do not work in Oneiroi because Titus wills them not to and as his magic is not only rooted in the Island itself, bound in service to its protection, but works in tandem with the Island, he can make such a proclamation. With such explosives mountains might be destroyed, the earth pillaged ruthlessly, squabbles boiled into brash action ending with corpses... We do not need such tools here nor do we desire them.”
“We train in fists for protection and magic because it is a part of our being, but even our skills with blades comes only because they are a basic weapon we cannot keep the people from creating and therefore using. If we tried we'd surely have to go so far as to confiscate dinner knives, forks, pointy sticks…” Kenshin chuckled.
Cassandra mulled over their explanations, not caring for much besides one particular detail. “Titus has such great power?” she asked, her voice soft almost in whisper.
“As I said,” Medusa nodded, “his magic is in service to the Island, to protect it, for the moment he accepted the mantle of Collector he became part of it. This Island's magic is powerful enough to hide it from any mortal map and with such power running through his veins it is no surprise he can afford to make such a request, nyet?”
“Will that power become mine when I take Titus' place?”
Kenshin's eyes danced. “Ja.”
Chapter 9
Life as a Whisper, even one apprenticed to Titus himself, was rather a calm existence that easily fell into the comfort of routine. Chores, training, lessons, campaigning... Well the campaigning was all done under the table of course as a seat at the Whisper Council was an honored and shared duty amongst them all, but Cassandra was gently sowing the seeds that put this rotation of duty into question. A leadership that was constantly in flux could cause instability, and why remove a seasoned member with a wise grasp on the position just so a green child with no leadership interests could serve a term?
Quietly she sowed her seeds and each day more eyes turned thoughtful. Carefully, delicately, she chipped away at the blind trust the Whispers had in a system no one remembered choosing. Ought they not have the right to choose? Progress requires change after all and what honorable Whisper does not desire the land of Oneiroi to progress into greater things?
Medusa often debated the merits of altering the Council against Cassandra while Kenshin quietly watched, content to simply be a part of their trio and to listen to both sides. But as days turned into weeks and Cassandra's focus refused to waver, Medusa found herself spending less and less time with the golden-haired friend she'd insisted on and more time ensconced in the Council room. Bitterness was not a flavor Cassandra enjoyed and so she moved her campaign a step further, taking those with the most interest in her ideas and surrounding herself with them until they'd formed a bond.
Wherever Cassandra sat, her supporters followed. One might simply call them a group of friends, evidence that the sharp-tongued girl had at last settled into life on the Island, but she refused to let them within arm's reach because friendship would rend them useless for what she needed them to do. No, friendship was not an option, righteous obedience would do.
The marble dining hall, polished to a stark gleam by Whisper hands, echoed with the sounds of dinnertime. “Why don't they hang tapestries in this damn hall?” Cassandra moaned while gently rubbing her temples.
Suyin's smile was supposed to look sympathetic but it was far too sharp to be anything but wolfish. “It would be considered an indulgence.”
Cassandra leveled her glare at the young asian girl seated across from her, all lethal angles while her siblings were soft and gentle. “It's a practical matter of keeping me from a migraine,” she growled.
Suyin laughed but her face darkened at who entered the hall. Cassandra swiveled in her seat and took in the twins. Suyin might look just like them but she was so different on the inside it was difficult to truly see any similarities between her and her siblings at all.
“You're truly triplets?” she asked dubiously.
A long labored sigh was her answer. “I wish it weren't so. Even being their sibling is awful enough.”
“Is it really?”
“Ja,” Suyin griped. “They're both so calm and pious, it's maddening. Do you know what gifts they chose when we arrived in Oneiroi? Healing. They chose healing gifts.” Suyin rolled her eyes as she spat under her breath, “Pathetic.”
Cassandra frowned as she assessed the two Whispers that moved in perfect tandem. “Healers can be quite useful,” she reasoned.
“Not when Whispers can't be killed,” Suyin pointed out.
“I suppose they did it for the Jourdies then.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra grinned. “Don't be envious, Suyin. Smashing things is just as useful as the healing arts, I'm sure.”
A bark of laughter interrupted Suyin's reply and two Whispers near Cassandra's age sat themselves at their table. “Very useful,” one of them said. “For entertainment. You must look so adorable, like a toddler throwing a tantrum,” he snickered.
Throwing out his hand to pet her head she quickly punched him in the side. “Shut up, Tiago,” she hissed angrily. “You wouldn't be teasing me if I turned your own bones to dust.”
Tiago's handsome bronze face did indeed pale at the thought. Even if Whispers could not be killed from such things they were not immune to pain.
Cassandra swiveled her attention between the two boys. She recognized them both from her careful campaigning but despite their consistent attendance they usually remained at the fringes of her dinner table. Tiago, the Brazilian jokester, was the opposite of Alexei, the Russian statue, and yet they were inseparable. She'd kept careful mental notes of all the Whispers she'd met and yet still she feigned polite curiosity as she asked, “And who are you?”
Alexei met the embers in her eyes with stone. “Alexei,” he grunted.
“Man of few words, I see,” she smiled charmingly. “A virtue. You don't waste people's time with small talk.”
His mouth hooked into an appreciative grin while Tiago once more elbowed his way into the spotlight. “He's the dullest dud you'll ever meet,” he insisted merrily. “Trying to have a conversation with him is like pulling out your hair slowly. But at least he's excellent for pranks.”
“Ah,” Cassandra observed drily. “The reason for your friendship is unveiled at last.”
Suyin however looked peeved. Turning towards Alexei she demanded, “You have the gift of turning invisible with a mere thought and yet you waste it on pranks?”
Alexei shrugged.
“What else is there to do?” Tiago rolled his eyes. “Besides sneaking up on misbehaving Jourdies and putting them into a sleep hold to calm their destructive drunkenness when I'm on patrol that is?”
Suyin opened her mouth likely with a shopping list's worth of suggestions but Cassandra's pale sea green eyes pinned him in place as she murmured, “You'd make an excellent spy, Alexei.”
The way her eyes pierced through him and her velvet voice caressed his name held him breathless and a shiver coursed down his spine at the potential she saw in him. In that moment she knew he was hers.
“What about me?” Tiago jumped in, unable to bear being tossed aside in any conversation.
“And wh
at exactly is it that you can do?” she asked politely.
“I can control the winds,” he answered proudly, his chest puffing just a bit.
Suyin snorted. “Oh bon, then you can summon a breeze for us on a hot day like a proper cabana boy.”
Tiago's face darkened at the insult but Cassandra raised a hand to halt his attack. “With that wind, if you truly master it, you could hide scents and trails. You could create storms so powerful no tree would stand. You could take just a tendril and move any object you please into your waiting palm.” Tiago's mouth remained shut for once as he hung onto her every promise. Cassandra glanced between the two boys. “Tiago, Alexei, you both hold so much potential within you that I am staggered. Truly, all of you, look at us. If the four of us combined our gifts we could do...anything.”
A spell had been cast and Cassandra remained carefully composed as she watched it sink beneath flesh and press upon hearts. She was about to lighten the moment and let that seed take root when they found themselves unable to sleep that night when Kenshin did so for her. Rushing in breathless and bright-eyed he claimed a seat beside her.
“What has you so excited, Kenshin?” she asked with a sweet tilt of her head.
“I just finished my term with the Council,” he sighed.
“Ah, and is your replacement any more enthusiastic for the role?”
He dipped his eyes with a touch of discomfort. “I'm not sure, they arrived only a week after yourself.”
Rage flushed her cheeks and her eyes darkened into a storm as she managed to bite out one word. “What?”
The whole group fidgeted in their seats at the gathering tension in the air but she only had eyes for Kenshin as she held his gaze for answers.
“It's random,” he insisted. “Names in a hat sort of thing. Once you've served you're removed from the list until everyone's had a turn then you're tossed back in. Or something of the sort.” His words petered out in a mumble.
“No offense, Kenshin, your heart is good but you're a prime example of the problem. Putting people who have no interest or skills in leadership is not only counter-intuitive but regressive. While Kenshin slouched in his seat meeting after meeting counting down the months until his term would end we could have had someone in that seat bright with ideas and making changes.” She took his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You are a wonderful soul, Kenshin, but if leadership is your fear then I fail to understand why they'd waste your time and ours by putting you on the Council.”
“It is how it was always done,” Tiago shrugged. “An attempt at balance and equality, I think.”
“And does that make it right?” Cassandra pressed, turning her broken glass stare upon each of them in turn. She hadn't really expected an answer but to her surprise Alexei did so anyway.
“Nyet.”
“Alexei,” Tiago warned quietly.
“Nyet,” he repeated. “It is like she said. It makes no sense. We need good devoted leaders to take charge, not children playing a farce to ensure equal turns. I would not want a dressmaker to iron shoes for my horse, nor a blacksmith to care for my teeth. We all have gifts and should be put to use where our abilities can thrive, not be smothered or ignored for the sake of bureaucracy and equality.”
Everyone's jaw had dropped at Alexei's small impassioned speech but Cassandra met his gaze with a cunning, approving smile. “Well said, Alexei,” she nodded.
“I've never heard him say so many words in a row in my life,” Tiago whispered, his eyes still round.
Alexei ignored him. “I'd like a seat on your council, Cassandra, if you'll have me.”
Their gazes remained locked, the promise of something, perhaps the ledge they brushed against, holding them there. “I have no council,” she replied evenly.
“You have us.” He was stone and stone was not so easily moved but if he offered himself to her then she would carve him into the soldier she'd need.
“If you mean this,” Cassandra proceeded choosing her words carefully, glancing at them all, “then tell no one and meet me in the west tower after dinner in three days time.” With that she stood, carried her dishes to the waiting bins by the doors, and left.
Chapter 10
Hope flickered in Cassandra's chest as she rushed back from her lesson with Titus. Each step she took down the hall through the castle had her feeling lighter and lighter as she recalled Titus' expression at her unexpectedly swift pace in mastering her new powers. Of course he didn't know she'd been practicing every second she could, pushing beyond the boundaries he insisted on. Slow and steady was his motto but daring and difficult was Cassandra's preferred speed. She'd downright struck him speechless as she maneuvered between the cycle of elements at a rate that would have been nothing short of dangerous for anyone who hadn't spent their training not only focused on pushing out but on control.
“Careful,” he'd warned her darkly before turning on his heel and vanishing. She didn't think he meant her ability to control her magic so much as what a display might suggest to others.
Leaning against the wall beside the Council's meeting room doors she smirked at the thought of frightening the feathers off of Abel were he to witness her theatrical display. She'd been unable to resist showing off this morning with Titus, still brimming with hope from Alexei's declaration, and she didn't feel sorry for it.
As she waited for Medusa to emerge from the stuffy ongoing meeting Cassandra released her energy by igniting her fingertips with flame one at a time. She often wondered what could require such lengthy and frequent meetings when nothing ever seemed to come of them. Despite her promise to join Medusa into town (a rare trip beyond the citadel, Titus' secluded training sessions not counting) she deeply considered abandoning her dull post when the voices within began to rise and seep through the heavy doors.
Extinguishing her candelabra of a hand she stepped closer to the seam between doors, bending her fingers she coaxed the water from a nearby mopping bucket to slide under the door then sent a chill into the air allowing the sounds within the room to reach her hungry ears quicker, farther, easier. They always say one never walks away from eavesdropping with a smile but she listened carefully anyway. Medusa might be warning them of her ideas, though surely by now whisperings had reached their ears.
“Read it again,” someone insisted.
“We've read it a thousand times more since she arrived and I don't think reading it again will make it any less clear who it refers to,” an exasperated voice that could only be Abel's replied.
“We will read it as many times as necessary,” Medusa snapped. “We will make no move until we are certain. Absolutely certain.”
“The prophecy states–”
“We know what it states,” another cut in. “But we must decipher what it means.”
Cassandra's brows ticked up at the mention of a prophecy. Normally she'd scoff at such claims but if magic proved true in Oneiroi then she had little doubt that prophecies could exist as well.
“Besides it mentions twins and she's never so much as mentioned a sibling never mind a twin.”
“Well you would know, Medusa, as you've taken in the witch.”
“Don't you call her that!”
The sounds of a fist pounding the table and indiscernible threats hissed back and forth took over until they settled enough for proper speech to slither through the cracks to Cassandra's waiting ears.
“Do you really believe she is this “blight” the prophecy warns of?” a new voice piped up sharply.
“It only makes sense that the blight proceed the cure,” another answered waspishly.
“Not necessarily,” the first voice argued back. “Why not a twin of goodness first, someone to train in preparation for the darkness that will come?”
“Because life never works that way,” the waspy voice dismissed.
“Look here,” Medusa intervened. “The prophecy mentions crowns and might. I've seen no crown upon her head, have you?” She glared at the lot of them. “The
prophecy doesn't say which will come first, only that when a twin does arrive we are to guide them and keep them in the light. Regardless of whether she is one of the twins it speaks of we ought to treat every soul with such care.”
“Ha!” Abel scoffed. “Fat chance. Cassandra was a stubborn demanding terror from her first step upon the Island's shore. Let her tyranny go unchecked and the kingdoms will surely follow and these will not be made of sand easily washed away by the tide.” A quick shout and a bang. “Why is the floor soaking wet??”
Cassandra nearly reared back at the sound of her name wrapped in such accusation, not even laughing at his tumble, but she held her ground long enough to hear his next words.
“It is clear to me and the majority of this Council that Cassandra is the evil warned of in the prophecy. No other Whisper has ever caused so much trouble with such whole-hearted antagonism than she has and if she is indeed this long awaited villain then I say we wash our hands of her, not fuel her ill-gotten powers until she can crush us like ants beneath her boot.”
Several voices muttered their assent but Medusa spoke over all of them. “That is not true! You are exaggerating. It is not uncommon for Whispers to have trouble adjusting to their new life in Oneiroi. You do not know what trauma she might be recovering from! You only see her in such harsh light because she's the only one in ages who's refused to yield to you. She has ideas and ambition and is not afraid to seek it. You, Abel, are merely scared of her.”
“No!” he denied hotly. “But what are you afraid of, Sa? Why haven't you used your gift on her yet and resolved this debate with a quick look? What are you afraid of finding? The truth?”
Medusa let out a sharp Ha! “The truth is that you're a meddlesome, judgmental, pot-stirring bag of wrinkles and you wouldn't know a good decision if it kicked you in the ass!”
Abel had quite a mouthful to throw back at Medusa but it was clear that the meeting was erupting into chaos. With nothing else useful to hear Cassandra gave the door a final glare before storming up to her tidy, boring, standard-issue room. Black clouds gathered in the sky and as she watched them rumble she could not say whether it was nature or her foul mood that summoned them there.