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The frantic muttering and occasional sounds of thumping signaled to Ayda that something was wrong. Ayda did not like when things went wrong. Living on Leviathan, there was some sort of crisis or emergency or riot or disaster happening just about all the time, and she’d gotten very used to tuning out the constant stress that came with it, favoring long nights alone amongst her rows of books and her observatory. Mordred Manor was chaotic in a much different way. It was loud, but happy. It was warm. If Ayda had to put a feeling to the word ‘home’, the feeling she got in Mordred Manor would be it.
It was strange, the contrast. She found herself returning to the streets of Leviathan with increasing irregularity. The big dinner they’d had in the backyard (she was told it was a “cookout”) with Fig, the Bad Kids and their parents, with a special invitation for Ayda and Garthy, had been one of the highlights of not just this Ayda’s life, but she assumed many of her past ones as well. The joy and peace she so often felt in Elmville, however, meant that when those feelings were shaken, it stuck out all the more.
Ayda stopped still in the hallway. The muttering registered first as feminine, and second, as she tilted forward and strained her ears, as Aelwyn. Nerves danced across her chest. She wanted to like Aelwyn, and tried very very hard to do so. She was Adaine’s sister, and clearly adored by her. In addition, she was a very powerful abjurative wizard, and Ayda always enjoyed talking to other wizards. Unfortunately, she found the girl to be highly intimidating and not overall friendly. Adaine told her not to take it personally, but that was something she often struggled with.
The bigger issue was that, to get back to her door to the Compass Points, she’d have to cross the room Aelwyn was clearly having some sort of issue in.
Her fingers tangled together. Tiny sparks of flame flew from her nostrils as she took a long breath.
“Just go in and say hi,” she whispered to herself. “She won’t get mad. Just say hi, listen for a minute, and then leave. It’s fine.”
She straightened up, braced herself (almost too late remembering to drop her hands back to her sides), and strode into the living room.
So clenched-tight in preparation, she didn’t even flinch when the couch cushion flew through the air and landed next to her leg.
“I just had it,” Aelwyn muttered, clearly, even to Ayda’s ears, distressed. She was facing away, digging desperately through the blankets on the couch. “It’s here somewhere, I just—”
“Hello.”
With a yelp, Aelwyn spun to face her. The anxiety in the air ruffled Ayda’s feathers, as literal as that statement got (it had taken her some time to learn other people did not, in fact, have feathers to ruffle). Immediately, Ayda’s hands tangled together again. Her talons clenched on the floor so she was standing just slightly on tiptoe.
“Sorry,” Ayda said. “I didn’t startle you on purpose.”
Aelwyn quickly shook her head. It didn’t seem to be a ‘no’, but more like trying to shake away a feeling.
“No, and I- I wasn’t startled.” (Lie, Ayda thought.) “I was- oh, it’s nothing. I’m fine. I’ll just—”
Aelwyn waved her hand in a motion that was too jerky to be reassuring. She turned back towards the couch and started sifting through the blankets again, much slower than before. With the way her shoulders were hunched beneath her sweater, and the slight tremble of her hands, Ayda didn’t think she seemed fine at all.
Flaming eyes tilted back and forth across the living room. It looked like Leviathan after a bad storm. Her gaze landed on the doorway on the opposite side, thinking how very, very easy it would be to just slip past.
Ayda bit the inside of her cheek. She bounced briefly on the tips of her talons.
“Are you looking for something?” she said.
“What?” Aelwyn looked back over her shoulder, as if surprised Ayda was still there.
“You’re clearly looking for something,” Ayda rephrased. She could feel tension from the tip of each of her wings, through her shoulder blades. “Do you have Locate Object? It might be easier to find with Locate Object.”
Blond brows drew together. “A divination spell? No, that was always Adaine’s racket.”
Ayda blinked. A few definitions flew through her mind. “Adaine … pulled dishonest schemes with her spellcraft?” As Aelwyn merely stared at her, she shook her head. “No- it was a turn of phrase.”
“I don’t have it, is all I mean,” Aelwyn said.
Ayda nodded. Her fingers gripped tighter. The door was right there. It would be so easy to just walk past.
“I could cast it for you,” she said instead. “If it is an object I’m familiar with, I can locate it within 30 feet if it’s somewhere in the house. The yard might be a bit out of range.”
Aelwyn blinked at her.
“No charge,” she added, because she was trying very, very hard to be kind.
“Is that something you usually charge for?”
Unsure how to respond, Ayda stared, silent.
“Um.” Aelwyn turned to face her, one hand finding her hip, and the other rubbing wearily at her face. “No, it’s fine. You wouldn’t know it. It’s- it’s so stupid, anyway. I’ll find it eventually.”
There were many things Aelwyn could’ve meant, Ayda thought. It could be a signal that Aelwyn wanted Ayda to leave. On the other hand, she might be politely turning down the offer to save Ayda the spell slot, but secretly wanted her to do it. The ‘stupid’ might’ve referred to the object, which Ayda may or may not actually know. And the finding of the object ‘eventually’ seemed far counter to the torn-apart state of the living room, only leaving to imagination the rest of the house.
Ayda’s fingers twitched. Her glowing eyes flared. A voice, cool and familiar, entered her mind.
I’m embarrassed about what I’m looking for, and embarrassed how upset I am that I can’t find it. I really would like to find it soon, because it is bringing me a great deal of stress to not know where it is.
Ayda’s eyes dimmed. She breathed a little easier.
“What was that?” Aelwyn asked.
“You should let me use Locate Object,” Ayda said firmly. “The house is very big, and you tire easily. It is a much more efficient way to find it than searching everywhere. You don’t need to find it embarrassing.”
A few moments of quiet. A line deepened between Aelwyn’s furrowed brows.
“Did you go in my head?”
“Um.” Ayda shifted. “I just—”
“You didn’t even ask! You can’t just do that to people.”
Ayda’s clenched hands pulled tight against her stomach. She shook her head, resisting the urge to step back out into the hallway. “I- I didn’t read your mind, I just—”
“Just what?”
Ayda swallowed. “I- you just- I was having trouble understanding what you wanted from me. Understand Subtext. That was all.”
Some part of her wanted to cast it again, if only to understand why the other girl was having this reaction. But, she thought she could figure it out. Adaine had told her of the tower—of the elves’ frequent violations of Aelwyn’s mind and what they believed to be key information within. It was, Ayda thought, a very reasonable motive for being defensive when it came to spellcraft of the like.
“I’m sorry,” Ayda continued, bowing her head briefly. “I wasn’t trying to upset you further. I was just confused. I won’t do it again.”
Aelwyn nodded, swiping briefly at her face.
“My offer to help is still on the table, though.”
“Did you see what it was, then?”
“No.”
With a short, watery sigh, Aelwyn fell back on the couch, landing with a thump among the scattered pillows and blankets. “It’s idiotic. I’ve torn the whole house apart. All for a stupid—” Her fingers found her forehead, pressing sharply. “I’m going to have to tell Adaine I lost it.”
Slowly, with several false starts, Ayda crossed the room and sunk down on the couch next to Aelwyn. It was the side Aelwyn had thrown the cushion off of, so the hard bars and springs beneath the fabric dug into her as she sat. Her hands clenched around her kneecaps.
“Are you … in need of physical comfort?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Okay.”
“I just—” She tilted her head up and gestured with her hands—sharp, painful-looking movements. “I’ve looked everywhere! Even in the fucking freezer! I don’t understand where it could’ve gone.”
Ayda nodded. Aelwyn was still talking, which meant she probably didn’t want Ayda to just leave. Probably.
“If you don’t want me to know, I can find someone else for you,” Ayda said, quiet.
Aelwyn sniffled. Startling as it was, it seemed at some point tears had flooded her eyes. Ayda pulled her wings tighter against her back, careful not to touch the other girl.
“No, I—” She let her face drop into her hands. “If you can find it before Adaine gets home, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Okay. I can do that.” She waited a moment, two. “I will need a description of some kind, though.”
The sigh was muffled against her palms. “It’s Owlinor.”
“Owlinor?”
A nod. “My owl plushie.”
Ayda took that in. After a moment, she said, as careful as she could, “I don’t think that’s anything to be embarrassed about. Plenty of people have stuffed animals.”
“Yeah. I know. I just- we weren’t allowed them as kids. Father said it fostered neediness. It feels so silly, but when I couldn’t find her, I got so rattled. I didn’t think I’d get this upset.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Aelwyn sniffled again, moving to wipe the damp from her face. “Adaine made her for me. I thought it was a stupid thing to waste time on, but she did it. She cut all the pieces and sewed it herself. She wouldn’t even use Mage Hand. I was so worried when I saw how bruised her fingers were. She stayed up all night making it.”
Lips twitching into a soft smile, Ayda said, “It sounds like she put a lot of care into it.”
“I love the stupid thing.” Aelwyn’s voice strained. “Which feels idiotic to say, but I do. Adaine made her for me, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world. When she wasn’t in our room, I just- I completely panicked. I don’t even know why.”
“She’s a- a comfort object?”
“A what?”
“It’s a thing that- that brings you—” Ayda tilted her head. “-solace, when you have it.”
Aelwyn looked at her, eyes searching as if trying to comprehend subtext of her own.
“I’m not a baby,” she said shortly.
“I didn’t imply you were. Lots of people have them. I read about it in a book.”
“Okay.” She lifted the edge of her sweater to dab at her face, heaving a short sigh. “That said, I am crying over a toy.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Ayda said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want me to find it?”
“Yes. Please. And thank you.”
Deep orange glowed from Ayda’s eyes. Runes sprung from her fingers as she waved her hand. Halfway through the arc, and itch set in on her fingertips. Then, stronger, like a tug. Her arm stopped. The runes vanished.
“It’s in Ragh’s room,” Ayda said, as the glow died down, and she could see Aelwyn clearly once again.
Expression morphing into anger, Aelwyn sprung from the couch. “Ragh? That absolute snake, what is he doing with Owlinor?”
Hesitating and unsure as to whether her role in this conversation had been completed, Ayda nevertheless rose and followed Aelwyn as she stormed through the house towards Ragh’s room. The door cracking against the wall made Ayda jump. She was glad she wasn’t on the other side of it.
“Ragh! Where’s my owl?”
A sharp snort as Ragh woke from his place on the bed. “Huh? Dude, what—”
Ayda crowded into the doorway just in time to see Aelwyn jump onto the bed and start slapping at his muscular, uncovered bicep.
“Dude!”
“Give her back! Why’d you take her?”
Ragh let go of what Ayda could now see was a medium-sized owl plushie, with soft brown fabric and a blue belly. It had two half-circles to represent closed eyes, and a little, yellow beak. It was, Ayda had to admit, very adorable. It looked like it was made with great love.
“Dude, sorry!” Ragh said, still sounding shaken from being woke in such a rude manner. “Her wing got a little ripped. I was just trying to sew her back up.”
Aelwyn tore the stuffed animal away from him, inspecting it carefully. “You were fast asleep.”
“I sewed her up, and then I got really sleepy. She’s so cuddly. I didn’t think you’d go looking for her that fast.”
After determining that no harm had been done to the precious toy, Aelwyn pulled it against her face and took a long breath. Ayda thought she was trying to calm herself with the scent. She herself had done the same with an old toy of Garthy’s on long nights alone when she was a young child. Remembering it made something crack within her chest, something that was just as quickly healed by reminding herself where she was now and who she had with her.
Aelwyn let the toy drop, just a little, and hugged it ferociously. Already, her shoulders were relaxing, and some color had come back to her face.
“I thought she got lost,” she mumbled, face half hidden behind it.
“Sorry, dude. Adaine asked me to fix her up. She was worried you’d be upset if you found out.”
“I’m not upset,” she muttered glumly.
“You look upset. You look like you’ve been crying.”
“I haven’t.”
Ragh’s gaze shot over to Ayda, still huddled in the doorway, as if for confirmation. Ayda didn’t want to betray Aelwyn’s trust, but she didn’t want to lie either, so her lips merely pulled in a nervous smile. Ragh nodded back, eyes squinting at the edges.
“I won’t touch her again without telling you. Sorry.”
With a final breath, pushed out in a heavy sigh, Aelwyn collapsed backwards onto the bed. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You okay?”
“Tired,” she said.
Ragh nodded, rubbing sleepily at his face. “You want me to carry you up to your room?”
A sound came from Aelwyn’s throat, something of a decline. Then, “Can I stay here?”
“Yeah, bro. At least ‘till dinner. No skipping meals.”
“Sure.”
Ayda shifted. She felt awkward just standing and watching in the doorway. Aelwyn and Ragh were … close, she thought. Closer than she was to either of them. It felt like peeping, watching the quiet scene.
Ragh seemed to notice, and shot her a smile. “Ayda, you want to chill with us? My mom’s cooking tonight.”
“Um, no,” she said, with a brief shake of her head. “I have some business on Leviathan. I should really go. Thank you, though.”
“Yeah. Anytime, bro. Seriously. Door’s always open.”
Ayda nodded and started to slide away from the doorway. A soft call of her name stopped her in her tracks.
Aelwyn stared at her from the bed. She was older than Ayda—this Ayda—maybe only by a few short months, but she was. But something very old in Ayda’s chest warmed at how open and young she looked, eyes wide and owl clutched against her.
“Ayda,” Aelwyn said again. Her words faltered. “I- thank you. That was- it was very kind of you, to help me.” She nodded, once. “Maybe I can repay the favor.”
The smile on Ayda’s face shifted into something more genuine. “No repayment needed. I was happy to.”
Aelwyn smiled back, something soft and watery. Ayda pulled away, catching a last glance of Ragh shifting so Aelwyn could lie down next to him. As she moved down the hallway, talons clacking against the wood, she heard him say, “Breakfast and lunch today?” then, “Good. Good job, man.”
The warmth burned within Ayda’s chest as she made her way up the stairs, then towards the closet door that would lead her back to Leviathan. In truth, part of her wanted to stay. It always did. But, she would return tomorrow, and the day after, and she knew, this time, that she had one more friend waiting for her.