Chapter 25 - Dinner I
Wherein Marissa finds a warm welcome in the Redemption Era home on Stygian Way and sees magic being made.
The librarian arrived sometime after three in the afternoon. Early enough for tea and conversations, late enough to appease Valentina’s sense of etiquette. At the time, all three inhabitants of the Redemption Era house stood elbows deep in one bowl or another.
Only Rose had kept track of time. A short remark from Bosra had her chuckle when the big knocker impacted the brass plate on the front door several times. She dusted her hands on a kitchen towel, then raced to answer the knock. It had been raining all day. Rose had been raised better than to let her guest wait in sleet and wind.
Rose smiled widely as Marissa stepped in. The librarian wore a wax coat over a cardigan and pleated skirt. The mudboots that peaked out from beneath the hem made Rose grin to herself. How familiar the sight. Maybe Nightsoul had seen to it that Pinnacle was brought to her.
"Welcome."
Marissa stepped in and goosenecked about. "This... is definitely not what I expected when you said you lived in this neighbourhood. I thought maybe you shared one floor with your friends not..." Her gesture encompassed the entirety of the grand entrance hall.
Rose shrugged. She figured she liked living here better than living on campus.
She took Marissa’s coat and waited patiently whilst the woman switched her mud boots for satin slippers. Another familiar sight, though at home the slippers would have been made of wool or leather.
"Come, the salon is this way." Rose led the way. A fire was banked to glowing coals, ready to be revived at a moment’s notice, but not needing as much minding currently. The curtains were drawn to keep in the warmth. Thaumatic lights cast a warm yellow glow over the room.
"Wow... It keeps on giving," Marisha commented, brushing the back of a silk-cushioned sofa. A silver cookie dish holding small, sugared confections stood in the middle of the recently waxed salon table. A flowery, pink tea-service awaited use; only the pot was missing.
"I am so underdressed," Marissa lamented.
Rose looked at her own garb; a simple skirt and blouse, with mended stockings beneath. She shrugged. "Not really. This is home. You dressed up for dinner. It’s enough. Anyway, tea?"
"Will you be here to drink it with me?" Marissa asked, fingering her large purse and the small gift that lay within.
Rose glanced towards the kitchen. "We weren't done cooking yet."
"Then... I'd rather have tea in the kitchen," Marissa decided.
"This way," Rose smiled warmly.
Marissa left her purse on the sofa. In this house, nobody would be interested in the few hollow coppers and six sesters that were kept in the tapestry bag.
It was warm in the kitchen. Hot, actually. The air was permeated with all sorts of smells. Spices, vegetables, meats. The sounds of pots being moved, of water boiling, of the stove hissing, of knives meeting cutting boards took Marissa back to her great-aunt's kitchen as a child; back through time and place when the world was magical in a different way. To the kitchen where Marissa decided she was going to be a wizard.
Two women who could not be further apart from each other in looks stood shoulder to shoulder next to the big cast-iron stove.
"Hello. I'm Marissa."
The two looked over. The dark eyes of the half-giantess felt more impactful than those of the beauty with the long blonde hair taking a blind-baked pie crust from the oven.
"Bosra," Rose pointed at the grey skinned highlander. "And Valentina." She indicated the blonde half-elfish beauty.
Marisha took no offense when the taller of the two women merely grunted and returned to saucing up a hunk of ox meat on the grill. She smiled kindly at Valentina. At least she hoped it was kindly, and not the threatening monkey face.
"Hello." The blonde set down the pie shell, wiped her hands on her apron, and proffered a hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you." Her face and hair were not the only beautiful things about her. Her voice sounded lovely as well, though not as enthralling as Rosa Rose's.
Marissa shook the warm flour covered hand. "You too. Thank you for having me."
"We decided this would be our Winter's Day Feast," Valentina confided to the newcomer. "I'm dragging them along to parties for all the real holidays."
"Ah." Marissa felt a little out of place. This lady had the quiet grace Marissa had only ever seen in long-lined nobility.
Meanwhile, Rose poured tea into a big clay mug and dumped a load of honey and spice into it. "Here. Have a seat." She pushed a high stool over; the one Valentina and herself used to get to the top shelf when Bosra wasn't around.
Marissa accepted the mug. She let Rose return to cooking, completely happy to just sit, sip and watch. There was a kind of magic, she thought, in watching women work.
There was also a real kind of magic at work. She could feel it being woven into the food, into the drink, into the house. It widened her smile and made her a little high.
In the end... all wizards were junkies. The kind of magic they wrought from day to day was simply their drug of choice.
But this... this was like that first hit. The high that never returned.
It was made even better when she moved over to the cutting boards and joined in making the simple magic. To know that a piece of her would linger in all of them, in the house. This was the magic that made a house a home. The magic that would counter Fae and Vampires. The magic that those creatures could not weave themselves.
And when Rosa Rose passed her by, when skin brushed skin, that sense of high intensified tenfold.
With everything in the kitchen quiet for the next half-hour, they settled in the salon. Valentina poured tea for them all, observing the rules of hospitality as she had been taught.
"What do you study, Marissa?" the lady asked.
"Practical magic application. Not very sophisticated, I know."
Bosra snorted into the dainty cup that looked like it was made for dolls as she held it. "Is it what you want to be doing?"
"It is actually. It um ... it lets me spend my days between the books, and the others making trinkets that people love using."
"Then what’s wrong with practical?" Bosra didn’t see the issue.
Valentina smiled at their guest. "Aren't we all in pursuit of doing what we love best?"
"Is that how you ended up at Bardic?" Marissa asked, levelling her gaze on the girl with the brown head of curls, and doe-brown eyes across from her.
"Yeah, actually. I’ve wanted to be a bard since one named Kirill visited Pinnacle and stayed around for a season.
"Bardic College seemed the way to go. Since I’ve figured out I’ll need a license to perform magic on the road."
"You get that at the end of the first year," Marissa knew.
Rose’s eyes widened to the size of the pink, floral saucer her cup sat on. "Really?!"
"Hmm mm."
"Huh." Rose sat back and frowned.
"Didn’t they tell you? I’m not surprised." Marissa had heard plenty of stories from Bardic College students about the mess that was that institution. "Anyway, there’s a course at the end of the first year. If you succeed, you’ll be granted your road magic license. Same for the University of Unseen Arts, although the course isn’t given until the fourth year." Marissa took another sip of sweet spicy tea.
"That's great!" Valentina piped up. "You won't have to slog through three and half more years of bureaucratic nonsense and terrible art classes."
Rose nodded. She had somewhat committed to those four years. Knowing that those years would be time spent with her new family. Time she looked forward to spending with them.
Bosra seemed to understand. She put her hand on Rose's shoulder and squeezed. "Always a place for you, Pupper."
Marissa felt a stab of jealousy at that touch and the nickname. There was a propriety there that she coveted. She banked that ember immediately. It was irrational, and wrong. She leaned back on the sofa. Pulled her feet up onto the satin and simply observed.
Valentina didn't pick up on Rose's struggle with belonging. "What year are you in at University?"
"Sixth," Marissa answered without sarcasm or frustration. "I graduated cum laude for Greater Workings in the World, and decided to continue for Practical Magic."
"Is that... a common thing to do?" Valentina had no clue. She met a few wizards, none of them had appeared to be students still, but neither had she asked them to enlighten her on the subject.
"Pretty common," Marissa nodded. "Once you've got a room and a routine... why leave?"
"The cost of keeping a room doesn’t bother you?"
"Not really. Prices are low as long as you’re a student, and scholarships cover the cost of classes."
"You have a scholarship?" Valentina cocked her head. The woman sitting before her, seemingly nearing thirty, didn’t look like she was in desperate need of financial support.
"Oh yes," the wizard replied without shame. She pushed her heavy glasses up. "They're pretty easy to get, once you figure out which hoops to jump through. Most make you teach classes on the side, or require that you join a certain research. There’s one that obligates one to check up on the sewer slimes from time to time to make sure they’re not all killed by enthusiastic adventurers."
Valentina scooted to the edge of her seat.
"Who puts up the scholarships?" Valentina wanted to know.
"There are various patrons. There’s a Collective Scholarship; adventuring wizards that score big donate to that one. There’s a few named scholarships, supplied by nobles as repayment for a service rendered by the Arch-Chancellor. Our Sovereign King, peace of Heaven be upon his brow, sponsors a dozen graduate wizards each year. In return he gets to cherry pick who will work at court."
That explained the abundance of court wizards. "Are you very... devout?" Valentina heard the way Marissa spoke of the King. In her experience, only clergymen or sworn knights used that turn of phrase.
"I wasn't," the woman smiled. "I guess in some ways I am still a heathen. But studying magic has a way of bringing one closer to the Divine. Without Sunfather and Nightsoul there would be no magic. Temples in and of themselves are very magical places."
"I... had no idea," Valentina stuttered. Marissa’s casual lecture proved once again how oblivious Valentina herself was about the world.
"Not many people do," Marissa replied amiably. "Common theory is that through the singular focus of the worshippers, magic builds over time."
"But?" Rose asked, re-joining the conversation, curiosity clear on her face. It was clear that Marissa did not support this assumption.
"Theory and experience rarely match. You should visit a temple and tell me your experiences." Marissa had visited temples out in the Wold-Sea over Summer. Even the deserted, overgrown structures had held that innate feeling of power. Even more so than the newer structures did. She found a wellspring of possibility in the old haunts. Much like the air of magic Rosa Rose seemed to carry with her wherever she went.
"It's been a while since I went to a temple. I used to go every Sunday with my family." Rose hadn’t been to one since she moved to Splendor.
"Will you go with me on New Year's Day?" Marissa went to Dawn Mass every year on New Year’s Day. It was the only one she made time for between her studies and her work.
She noticed a dark blush rising Rosa Rose’s cheeks.
"Wouldn't that be..."
"What?" Marissa cocked her head, unaware of the Fairfields customs.
"That would declare us..."
She watched Rose bite her lip with amusement. "Yes?"
"Courting," the girl whispered, conscious of the fact that all eyes were on her.
Marissa’s amusement became a chuckle. "Not here."
"Oh." Rose’s mouth formed a perfect circle. She grinned sheepishly. "Then yes. I’d like to go."
~
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