Xilanada - The Four Fold Dissonance/Part 11

Piiro looked thoughtfully at the small starmetal bowl on his office desk. The old dish was battered with centuries of use but still bore its fine markings of ancient runes and geomantric patterns. The liquid was a mixture of fine yestil oil and crushed ghost-lily. Using the enigmatic Unveiled Heavens was a difficult task but one he was well practiced at. Interpreting its answers was even harder unfortunately. Tonight's reading was ample evidence of that.

The silvery gloss was one he'd never seen before. Two rare texts in his personal library mentioned the device and gave him insight but the two interpretations offered were equally disturbing. Either an eclipse was coming, with all its inherent magical complications or a Lunar was near this night. A Lunar who had bearing upon the school.

What did it all mean?

Piiro sighed and pushed the bowl away, noticing the faint golden shimmer that skipped across its surface for a second. He blinked and stared, willing the effect to happen again. It didn't, which only added to his mood.

For months now, he'd seen that particular happenstance. He had his suspicions about what it meant but no conclusive knowledge. Perhaps that's why the Unveiled Heavens was an uncommon First Age device. It was obscure to the point of uselessness.

He brushed the long blue hair from his face and glared at the bowl.

No matter. There was more than one way to solve his problems. More than one way to unravel the mystery of Xilanada.

Piiro went to the windows and looked out into the Nexus nights. The after-effects of that Solar Circle Sorcery had subsided but the Tower of the Council had a most amusing lopsidedness to it that made him chuckle. He appreciated the lightening of his mood but looking at the tower reminded him again that the highest-levels of Sorcery had been employed tonight. He didn't know by who but he knew by what.

Could it be? Could Xilanada have wielded that kind of magic? Every test he had told him no but his intuition told him otherwise. These little omens, like his instinct and the golden flash of the bowl, teased him, promising answers but never fulfilling. If only he could ask Rainblown Joybringer, his lover and his love. If only the man could be trusted with the truth.

The rain poured heavily outside, no doubt owing to the severe disruption of the local weather patterns that Sorcery had caused. Whoever had done it had been impulsive, too eager to conjure power and not cautious enough about landscaping the effect. Perhaps they had only just managed it and lacked either the skill or the will to be more careful. It was also unlikely that he would ever know the real source of that magic.

Instead, he studied the streets and raised an eyebrow as he saw Tepet Sen coming toward the School, a woman in his arms. Truly, the man had no control of his passions. The woman looked unconscious, though, maybe even dead. That was more interesting.

Piiro opened his window and leaned out into the rain to get a better look. Sure enough, the woman didn’t stir though he couldn’t see any obvious wounds either. No blood across that beautiful golden dress...which was the same color as oricalcum. Piiro felt a chill as yet another omen revealed itself to him, pointing in every direction toward the only person that could be. Yes, long curly blonde hair and a small and delicate body. He couldn’t see her from here but it had to be Xilanada. What was the Dragon-Blooded doing with what was likely a Solar?

He had to be certain.

Moving quickly, Piiro pulled on an overcoat to cover his school suit as he hurried out into the hall. He moved as fast as he thought he could get away with, grateful that he had disdained even slippers at this late hour. Bare feet slapped without sound against the smooth oak floors, allowing him freedom to run.

In half a minute he’d reached the Hall of Audience, the entrance chamber to the School. Piiro slowed as he brushed through the door, pulling his flapping overcoat around him as if adjusting it to ward off the cold. He needn’t have bothered with appearances, though. No one was paying any attention to him.

Several servants clustered around the completely soaked Terrestrial in the hallway. Two had already taken Xilanada from his arms and were even now in the process of wrapping her in thick blankets. That didn’t keep Piiro from seeing her face, confirming it was who he’d thought. Sen looked concerned but that meant nothing. The Dynast was one of the best in the School at guarding his feelings. A Charm should take care of that. But first, the context was needed.

"Sen, are you alright?" Piiro asked, adopting his best tone of concern. The Dragon-Blooded looked up warily. Sen’s eyes focused and he smiled a little in recognition.

"Nothing a hot bath and a good night’s sleep won’t cure. Wish I could say the same for poor Lana though."

"What happened?" Piiro asked, his voice full of concern.

"There was a nasty riot in the streets. Something to do with protesters and mercenaries, I gather. Xilanada was hurt, which certainly ruined the fine date we’d been enjoying."

The line of questioning Piiro had been moving along was preempted by that opportunity.

"I didn’t know you two were seeing each other. You must have been worried?" There was impropriety with dating another Professor, of course, but his relationship with Rainblown was common knowledge and gave him camaraderie here.

"I was," Sen admitted. "But I found her and brought her home without a whole lot of trouble. I hope a good night’s sleep will cure her as well, though I suspect Seya will need to see to her."

Practiced composure lingered on the surface. Worry and concern flowed just beneath. Stronger than a sleeping girl warrants. Anger beneath that, the kind that cycled and turned back on itself with helplessness. In the depths, the growing bonfire of love coupled with self-concern at its intensity. At the very bottom, fear too faint to feel. In all, Sen’s will was strong but tired. He was courageous as a lion and more controlled than he often let on. His determination overwhelmed all, as was usual, but his compassion had grown, as it had been doing for some time.

Piiro felt the warring emotions and weights of the Dynast sort themselves out in his mind, even as his eye twitched with the effort of keeping his composure. Tasty. If only he could do more with it.

At least he knew a few things. Sen and Xilanada had met with trouble. Something had happened to her that worried Sen a great deal. Very likely, Sen had failed to protect her and it was gnawing at him. Yes, he was in love but Piiro had known that already. The fear, though, was new. Might he suspect also?

"I’m sure your sister will take good care of her. She watches after her teachers as much as she does her students." Piiro chuckled, lightening the concern that furrowed Sen’s brow.

"I’m sure she will. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get out of these wet things and see to my date. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

"Of course," Piiro said, watching Sen go. One more Charm and at least one of his concerns abated. I would do anything for my father’s approval. So Sen had been and so he remained. Piiro regretted the need to waste his strength on checking something so elementary but he had to be certain, now that his suspicions were hardening. If there was one thing a Solar could do, it was to turn a man’s heart from what it had always been.

"Hold up a minute," Piiro called after the servants, catching up to them as they paused. "Let me see her. In case there’s something more serious that Professor Tepet missed." The servants bowed low and laid their burden across one of the nearby benches. He waved them away and knelt over the sleeping form of what may be an Anathema.

"Who are you, Xilanada?" he whispered quietly, pulling the Forgotten and Final Blade his pocket. The Soulsteel knife whimpered in his hand as he pressed just the tip against her wrist, drawing up a bead of blood. A whispered command created a malefic green light in the soulsteel, forming the seeds of the Contagionic Infection.

No reaction. The impending death represented in the most deadly weapon he’d ever heard of should have triggered something. Her Essence should have risen to the implicit danger at least. As it was, he quelled the burgeoning poison that would kill her and withdrew the weapon.

Piiro had no compunction about killing the woman at all. But he had to be certain of what she was. If she was a Solar, she had powers of concealment beyond any that he knew of. And what she knew, perhaps he could learn.

His Essence was strong enough. It had to be.

Carefully threading weaves of his Essence, Piiro worked his fingers lightly over Xilanada’s torn dress, the dirt worked into the fabulous garment, and the bloody mess of her hands. Flashes and images pounded in his mind as one Charm suddenly superceded the other.

Fear me! Look upon me for you face certain destruction! Flee from me for you cannot withstand my hate!

Piiro gasped and fell back from her. By the...no, never even think that oath here. What was that, though! That wasn’t fear but rage, a monstrous rage that dwarfed any feeling he’d ever known. It was not at all what he’d been expecting.

But there was still the matter of the details to examine. Piiro moved closer and once again gathered up from where he left off. The dirt and ruin...yes, the impact of the Skystone had dashed her upon the stones, rough hands had thrown her to a floor. The cuts and slashes...swords? Yet she wasn’t cut. A near thing. And her hands...from a sword, twisting in her hands and rubbing the palms beyond raw yet still she held it.

What was wrong with this woman? Every clue he gathered confounded his confusion instead of giving clarity. Was she an Exalt or wasn’t she? Was she the even-tempered infiltrator he thought she was or was she the ocean of hate her dress had encountered? Was she some skillful warrior able to avoid wounds or was she such a novice that she had no calluses to protect her hands?

He sighed and let the servants carry her away. As she was trundled off, Piiro looked over her once more and sought to know what he already knew. As it was before, so it remained. I would give my life and soul if I could undo the deaths on my conscience. Nothing had changed after all. If only he knew what it meant.

Perhaps an hour or two spent in the arms of Rainblown Joybringer would help. The one light of his existence here beckoned him on. Who could have thought the God-Blooded would love him so tenderly? It had been a useful fiction at first but Piiro had enough self-honesty to admit he'd fallen for the Professor.

Only a few more weeks and then this charade would be over. He tried not to think about what that would mean for the man he loved.