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| Aurelle Divir, "The Illusionist" |
Part 7
"Signs and Wonders"
The patter of small feet clattered over the
cobblestones. Children laughed and ran, waving to their friends as they
flocked toward a particular alley.
"Hurry up!" One young boy waved his friend along. "She's already started!"
At
the eastern courtyard, across from the docks, a young woman sat on a
crate, watching tiny figures leap and bound over each other. In a clear
voice, she began her tale.
"There was once a noble elk who
ruled the forest. He was fair and wise, ensuring that all the animals
were treated fairly, and if any of them had a problem, they could go to
the elk and he would help them reach a solution." Her fingers fluttered,
and the figures changed. Now a third figure joined the pair of elk and
aimed a weapon at them. The tiny elk crumpled as the girl continued.
"One day, a man came into the forest and shot the elk with his gun,
wounding him terribly. His son was not yet old enough to understand the
law of the forest, and so a group of other animals, birds and squirrels
and even a wise owl or two, decided to lead the forest animals until the
young buck grew older. But being such different animals, and all
seeking the interests of his own kind, the Forest Authorities could not
agree."
She had quite a crowd now; children stared at the
glowing, swirling images, enthralled by their realism, but a bit
overwhelmed by the story. Their parents observed with dubious
expressions, reluctant to pull too close, yet unable to look away.
The
girl bent over her table, watching the figures materialize out of thin
streams of light issuing from her fingertips. Ever since she was a small
child, barely able to speak, she had been able to communicate and to
entertain herself with these illusions. She had no idea where this
ability came from, or how it worked; it was far more strange to her that
other people did not have this ability. She didn't see anything special
about herself.
"During this time, the Young Buck disappeared, and the forest fell into turmoil. Just when all hope of a happy forest seemed
lost, as each attempt of the Authorities to control and restrict failed
more and more," she gave a little twist with her wrist for theatrical
effect, "two foxes came out of the deep part of the woods, and offered
to represent the other woodland creatures from within the Authorities,
setting themselves as a balancing voice and a people's advocate to
combat the Authorities' self-interest. The other woodland creatures
agreed—but with the foxes now in charge, life grew worse than it had
before, as the cunning foxes and the stubborn Authorities vied for
control of the populace." The foxes began chasing the other animals, and
the young storyteller frowned to see her story taking a dark twist yet
again. Parents began pulling their children away, whispering about her
treason and disrespect. She tried to persevere with the story.
"The
foxes soon set themselves up as equal to the elk, thought their
policies and decisions were definitely not as fair and equitable to the
animals."
"Speak for yourself, you freak!" Someone shouted from the back of the crowd.
The storyteller stood, as the animals in her hands expanded to life-size and scurrying over the ground.
"They
favored some species while oppressing and disparaging others as weak or
disgraceful!" She cried, as the indignant foxes turned up their noses
at the gentle unicorns, and batted the innocent squirrels away.
"What
do you think you're doing?" Cried a woman with frilly clothes,
clutching her lacy parasol in her upraised fists. "You're crazy and your
stupid stories make no sense!"
Her screeching sent a murmur through the crowd as the dissent swelled louder.
She couldn't help it; the words came as easily as the images.
"The
forest creatures did their best to survive in spite of the foxes, for
one day, the Young Buck would return and rule as his father did—"
"Enough!"
A burly trader at the front of the crowd shoved aside the people around
him and lunged for the illusions. They wafted like smoke under his
arms. He glared at the young storyteller. "We've heard enough of your
stories! You're a fool and no good to this realm! It's time one of us
stood up to your sort and put an end to this plague!" He lunged for the
white-haired storyteller.
She screamed and threw up her hands.
People gasped, and the man groped at the air just above her head. She
stumbled back out of his reach as people pressed closer, whispering.
"She's gone!"
"Where did she go!"
"It's as if she was never there!"
She looked down at her hands. She seemed visible enough; why did they speak as if she were not?
"All
right, what's this, then?" A strong, easy voice boomed from the corner
of the market. The crowd parted as a soldier wearing the uniform of a
Regency Peacekeeping Officer entered the courtyard.
Several
voices tried to explain the situation, complain about the instigator, or
blame the Outcasts for the unsanctioned gathering—but he merely waved
them all away. They took the hint and dispersed, while the officer took a
sentry stance, his hand resting lightly on the haft of his weapon. Once
the noise and activity died down, his eyes glided to the corner on the
opposite side, where a stack of crates blocked a disused alley.
"Back to your tricks again, Aurelle?" He asked the air.
At his words, she felt the subtle shift of coming into view again. The change in his stance confirmed she was visible.
Aurelle gave a shy smile. "I didn't mean to start a riot," she began, but the officer shook his head.
"That
wasn't a riot, young lady; merely a disgruntled audience. And after
what they just witnessed, you may find it hard to continue as innocently
as you have been."
Aurelle sighed and ran deft fingers
through her milk-white locks. "I didn't mean to; the illusions change
before I realize what they are doing. It's more than just entertaining
children, Rayne," she gazed at him earnestly. "I'm not just a
fortune-teller. These are real issues, raising real questions and
hopes—"
"And causing real problems and putting you in real danger," Officer Rayne warned.
"What
else was I supposed to do?" Aurelle exploded. "You don't know what it's
like when I try to ignore the stories, keep them bottled up. I've tried
keeping my head down and keeping silent like you told me to." She
raised her palms toward him. "Both my arms were nearly numb from the
pressure! I needed to let them out!"
Rayne raised an eyebrow. "And the vanishing act?"
Aurelle
couldn't suppress an embarrassed smirk. "That was—he was about to break
my neck. Would you rather I had let him grab me?" She stared at him,
catching him in a direct gaze. Those vibrant eyes drew him in, held him
in a way that made him feel—
Rayne forced his willpower to overwhelm his mind and turn his head, cutting the moment short.
"Just stick to telling fortunes and entertaining children, Aurelle," he muttered.
She sighed. "All right." She moved to straighten her booth again.
"Not here," Rayne stopped her. "It's—"
"Ah! Madam Aurelle Devir," rumbled a booming bass voice. "I thought it might be you; good catch, Officer Rayne!"
Behind
him, a whole detachment of Peacekeepers, led by a wiry man with a tight
grin, fanned out along the edges of the courtyard. His serpent eyes
slithered toward the young woman. "I don't imagine Officer Rayne has
told you yet, Miss Devir, but I am afraid you'll have to close down your
little operation."
Aurelle frowned. "On what pretense? I've paid all the fees; I carry a license—"
"Which
has just been revoked," the sergeant interrupted. "As of this moment,
Miss Devir, you are hereby ordered to refrain from any activity related
to your status as an Illusionist."
"Refrain?" Aurelle echoed
as Rayne obeyed the short hand signal from his sergeant to join the file
of Peacekeepers. "For how long?"
The sergeant smiled.
"Indefinitely. If at any time you are observed engaging in any activity
beyond the sanctioned Regency Broadcasts, you will be regarded is a
dissident and arrested." The sergeant smiled at her again, and turned
his heel.
Aurelle stared at the back of his head. Rayne was the only one looking at her face.
"Aurelle," he whispered desperately. "Don't—"
She
wasn't listening. "You cannot suppress the truth so easily, Sergeant!"
Aurelle announced, extending her hand. A ball of swirling light rose
from her palm.
He turned at the cries of alarm from his men.
His eyebrows raised and his hands came up in alarm. "Stop! I order you
to desist!" He commanded.
Aurelle smirked. "Catch me if you
can!" She spun in a circle on one foot, and used the momentum to hurl
the ball of light at the ground with all her might. It exploded in a
blinding flash, stunning the onlookers. When their eyes adjusted, she
was nowhere to be found.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~
Everyone
assured me the headdress was beautiful—but nobody was honest enough to
realize how much it hurt to actually wear the thing. It took six
servants just to carry my train with enough support so I could walk
around. Even in the courtyard, amid the banners proclaiming my name and
my image as the ultimate desire, I could feel Their stares. Sure, I was
pretty enough, but my greatest asset also contained my fatal flaw:
everyone was so obsessed with my appearance that nobody took the time to
explain any sort of politics or leadership strategies. My own
beauty—the one thing they could use to secure a following for me—They
quickly turned into a farce, a vain, shallow concept with no room for
intelligence or amiability. I had plenty of both, but with no voice
beyond what the Council told me to say, I quickly lost the favor of the
people. They needed someone who could demand fealty and keep it. Of
course they found a woman who could give them the spectacle they needed,
but it seemed only I could tell just by looking at her that this woman
might not be able to work the effect they sought. She had ambition,
cunning, and a bold, unwavering gaze that could search your soul at a
glance. She made no secret about her desire to be the ultimate pinnacle
of absolutely everything—including the standard of beauty in the realm.
I
am afraid of her; if I am cursed to be the most beautiful person in the
realm—what wouldn't she do to take it from me and for herself?
~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~<>~
Even
in slumber, Velora sensed movement in their little camp. When she
opened her eyes, the light of dawn had barely cracked the horizon—and
Harlock was already leaving.
She sat up, and Jay chimed a warning.
Harlock whirled around to see Velora watching him.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Leaving," he answered.
Velora bared her teeth. "We had a plan!" She hissed.
"And it's a great plan," he answered. "You and Aurelle are perfectly capable of carrying it out without me."
"We need you to cover our tracks!"
"Not
necessarily; you two are resourceful, I am sure Aurelle already knows
how to do that." He shouldered the small pack he brought. "I have
business at the castle."
Velora sneered. "Business? What
business? You don't even remember who you are, what business could you
possibly—" she lurched backward as Jay broke away and flew straight at
Velora's face.
Harlock shrugged. "Jay says it's important. I need to be gone when the Hunter arrives."
"Why?" Velora demanded.
He
threw up his hands. "She won't say! Trust me, I want to have my fun
with this Hunter as much as you two, but apparently I have—"
"What,
better things to do?" Velora rolled her eyes. "Fine then, Mystery
Man—go off on your super important business, follow your fairy right to
the very doorstep of the people who hate us." She turned away and
scuffed at the ground with her feet. "I guess you aren't one of us,
after all."
She heard him shuffle, shift his position like he
wanted to say something—but at last she heard nothing, and when she
turned around, he was gone.
Aurelle awoke to
the sound of Velora raking the trees with her claws, but when she
finally got the young Wolf to calm down enough to tell her what
happened, she seemed to handle the news with far more understanding.
"How
can you be so calm?" Velora exploded. "We've faced the Hunter before,
she'll be ready for us this time—Harlock was our best chance at the
element of surprise!"
Aurelle flexed her hand, and a puddle of
water appeared in her palm. Carefully, she cupped it, and the droplets
rose to form a trickling fountain. Velora watched in amazement,
distracted from her frustration by the sight.
Aurelle smiled.
"Maybe we don't need Harlock after all." She flicked her wrist, sending
the jet of water streaking toward Velora's face—but though she
flinched, the wet sting never came. The water dissipated like all of
Aurelle's illusions. The Illusionist laughed at the stunned look on
Velora's face.
"I think we stand a pretty good chance," said
Aurelle. "As long as we follow the same plan: distract them all, and
pick them off one by one before they realize what's happening."
Velora
extended her claws. Finally, a fight! "And then what?" She asked.
"Scare the Hunter off? Send her running back to the castle?"
Aurelle
tilted her head as the illusions spun in her hands. "I was thinking of
getting her far out of the way—like maybe the Wilderness. I'm sure
Korsan will have a welcome or two to keep her busy." She cast a keen eye
toward Velora. "Does this please you?"
Velora grinned. "Does it ever!" She cried.
~<>~
An
hour later, the Hunter and her band of Thugs entered the forest.
Everyone wore armor with thick leather reinforcing the vulnerable
chinks. She had seen what the enemy did to the soldiers she left behind,
and she wasn't going to take that chance again. Everyone carried a
bell, and the Dennahlia had trained herself to know the sound of each
one as it clanked. She would know where her soldiers were, and whether
one went missing at any given moment.
Such as now.
Dennahlia
stiffened; one bell had missed a step. She almost didn't notice,
because as soon as she flinched, it had rung again—but there was
something artificial about the sound.
"Hold!" She barked, and all noise ceased. "Sound off!"
The
bells clanked one by one; sure enough, the errant bell still rang when
it was supposed to... But it wasn't the same ring. Dennahlia waited till
the last ring died down, and then raised her hand. A concealed pistol
unfolded around her wrist and discharged—
The "missing" Thug
fell down dead. The Thug standing next to him stared at the Hunter in
confusion and horror. "What'd ye do that fer?" He muttered.
Dennahlia
was still trying to figure out what had happened. He still wore the
bell—why had the sound changed? How had she come to believe that this
one was out of place?
"They're here!" She cried. "Spread out and find them! Look to the trees, don't trust the shadows!"
The Thugs growled happily at the thought of a cunning enemy; they loved knocking over the smart ones.
Dennahlia
herself climbed a tree for a better vantage point. She had been fooled
on the ground, so it was time for unpredictable. She listened for shouts
and looked for speed amid the lumbering bodies. She could see her whole
crew from here. She counted twelve—but how could she still have twelve
if one was already dead? She narrowed her eye, and the bodies below her
glowed bright red. They all looked very similar in size—till one of the
red bodies stretched out blue claws and felled his neighbor.
"WOLF!"
Dennahlia shrieked. The red faded to the green of her night-vision, and
Dennahlia scurried forward in the pandemonium. She followed the forest
path. The moon shone in the western sky. She kept it's light over her
right shoulder, heading north toward the capital city. The edge of the
treeline lay just ahead, the Huntress broke though the trees—and ended
up in an open clearing lined with craggy rocks. She looked up toward the
moon—but it hung solemnly in the sky behind her. She stood at the edge
of the Wasteland, heading due east and further than ever from the
castle.
Behind her, a howl resonated across the sky.
Dennahlia quickly retracted the tiny concealed pistol and drew her twin
handguns. She would be ready for whatever came.
Black dots
swam on the horizon, bobbing around the crags. Her green night vision
slipped back into place, and Dennahlia felt the dread creeping up.
Wolves,
scores of them, all racing toward her position. There was no way she
could fend them off with just her arsenal. They would converge on her in
a manner of minutes. She heard crashing in the bushes as more emerged
from the forest, growling threateningly. There was only one thing left
to do.
She crouch low and gripped the edges of her cloak. Building
momentum in her feet, she launched into the air. As soon as her feet
landed she ran. She could run fast, faster than any animal alive. She
would outrun the wolves. She raced northward, still keeping her original
destination of the castle. As long as she kept moving, the wolves could
not drag her down. She let off a few shots, but it didn't seem to deter
them any. She ran so fast that her eyes could not keep track of her
surroundings—
One moment she was running at full speed, the
next, she tumbled sideways into a slope full of pain a knives. Darkness
overtook her, and the pain stopped—
Then nothing.
