20: One Task

“Can you be taken from me?”

Alexandrie rubbed her temples where a dull headache had settled that morning. She was getting better at keeping the constant need for movement in check, but since the conversation they’d had that morning, since the silent one she’d had with La Chanson, she hadn’t been able to stand still, much less sit still. As the others continued to talk, she focused on resisting the urge to run. Not out of fear or anger, but out of urgency. Out of need. Her feet tapped at the floor, her hands clenched and unclenched, a low buzz of adrenaline it was hard to ignore.

She was very aware that the easiest way La Chanson could be taken from her was through death, and no, she did not want to die, but she wasn’t afraid of death. There were worse things. She suspected that it was a little more complicated than that. Genofeva hadn’t thrown her sickle at Alexa’s throat, or tried to obliterate her with fire, or ice. Learning how to wield magic as she was, with the power the sorceress held (most certainly greater than Alexa’s own), if she had simply wanted Alexa dead she could have done any number of things before Vee or Lucas or Spider or she could respond. Sanjuio Donadieu was a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. If all Genefever had needed was Alexandrie dead, Alexandrie would be dead. 

She chose to take comfort from the fact that her existence was more than a mild inconvenience, small comfort though it was.

No, it wasn’t fear. Ultimately, she had little intention of running from Genofeva and her mistress. Just as she had when face to face with the sorceress, she wouldn’t (couldn’t?) run. 

However, whatever La Chanson wanted - needed - must come first.

Of everything, she hated that the Edgewaters had been dragged into this - that Lucas was now, thanks to her recklessness in encouraging him, likely a target. But it was too late, and she had little say in the decisions of La Chanson.

As she sat quietly amongst the pews in the house of the God of Knowledge, La Chanson settled distantly at the edge of her mind, granting her a slender lick of candlelight in cupped hands.

Eighteen years and a handful of months…knowledge weighed heavily on the teenager.

There was no use in parting ways now - Vee would advise against it, and it wouldn’t protect Lucas anyway. Besides, even being this far from them gave her a sense of unease - she knew he was in a lot more pain than he was showing. She rolled her eyes at the cheerfully dancing candlelight. Why were men so silly?

Rem’mi’ki was safe. The Voice of the World had completed her performance. Would change come? Over time, perhaps. Releasing the light spell, she leaned back and rubbed her temples again. The ebon elf really had no magical ability… so what had happened? One day she would get more than binary answers to the constant barrage of questions she held herself from hurling at La Chanson. One day there would be answers.

Restless, she began to pace again, feet travelling across marbled floors. It had not been a good time for this she knew, just walking from the inn with Lucas so injured. She had spent a lot of time that morning humming with her fingers on his chest, searing dead tissue inside his body as she searched for healthy fragments of his organs to encourage to knit together or grow anew. La Chanson was encouraging as she took more time to listen to new growth - like hearing a warm breeze blow through after a harsh winter. When the Engwyr began to cough, she knew what was causing it and nudged food and water closer. Constantly hungry…now he had another reason. Growing new organs took time and energy, it seemed.

New abilities… La Chanson was teaching her more every day. So was the enemy. Genofeva had taught her more than one thing she feared to be true: Not only could La Chanson be taken from her, but Vee as well. He was not invincible, and he was not incorruptible. Alexandrie would never leave him, but…what if his body betrayed his mind and he left her?

As she watched him speak to the Scholar, she thought back to the change in his movement, the way he’d looked back at her after shocking her. She was certain she’d never seen him do something like that before, just as certain as she was that he wouldn’t have done something like that if it had the potential to hurt her.

Merde. She’d wanted to help Vee find out about his past, what a Praetorian was and where he’d come from, but she’d feared he would leave if he knew. She’d never imagined he might not have the choice.

This was much worse.

Standing before the altar and looking up at cool light streaming through windows, she silently asked Atil what it was that made everything so complicated.

Why? Why could La Chanson not be with her here? What differences were there between La Chanson du Monde and Atil, the God of Knowledge? What difference between La Chanson et all of the rest? Why did it stay outside? Was it safe there? Was it really further away or did it just sound further away? Did these gods offend it? Was she upsetting it, leaving it in the street? She could hear it from where she was, but if she crossed to the other side of the grounds, would it sound further away still? 

Was this how it could be taken? Was it more vulnerable there? Was she more vulnerable here? 

She felt as though the bars of a cage were slowly becoming visible at the edge of her awareness, but as to who or what held the key to it, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she was in this vast temple of knowledge and La Chanson did not belong here. People from all over the continent were searching for something she had - something that was hers. Something that was her. She looked around to see if anyone was watching, the edges of panic as close (closer) as the bars of that cage. About to keep moving (perhaps if she kept moving she would get out of it), she saw Chevalier had finished speaking to the Scholar and couldn’t remain silent about her concerns.

There had been a resistance to its power, not strong, but definitely something. Scholar Sapner said that there was likely a philosophical difference between La Chanson and the gods as they were found here. Would it be different in the Empire of the Burning Lash? In the Deliverance of the Dawn? Alexandrie had never left the Progress Confederacy - had never really wanted to. Now she did, if only to learn where La Chanson felt comfortable. Vous venez du même endoit que Vee? Vous manquez votre terre? The pull to move returned and she nodded and thanked the Scholar.

Whether she had ever been scryed, she didn’t know. But right now, at this moment, nothing watched her. 

It would have to do. She needed to talk to Vee.