Blanche was still talking, and Ceyda had taken to deeply analyze every piece of blobby art plastered in the ballroom. Most were too far away for her to be able to parse out, but there were two portraits near her that were large enough for her to stare at.

The portraits were of two women, most likely part of the Blanche family.

“Now, let us pray as we remind ourselves of the potential from our children. Our sons can become spearheads, natural leaders, gogetters, and true pursuers of progress.”

The first woman looked quite a lot like the man speaking. She had red hair, but unlike him, much paler skin. She was in a soft blue dress, and was holding what appeared to be bandages and scissors in her hand. There was a mistake with the painting. The fingers were too long, because of where the painting ended, instead of keeping their shape, they just ran off the edge.

“Gaslamps, the studious, withdrawn, passionate academics, who take to the book, and become masters of their chosen academic field.”

The frame itself was quite fancy. It looked golden, but it was probably not real gold. A frame of pure gold would be silly. Based on the way the lights danced on it, perhaps a gold and platinum foil, that was painted over the wood?

“Towers, the best husbands and doctors we can ask for, the ones with the biggest hearts and the staples of any community.”

Now, as for the other portrait, she was far less pale. There seemed to be some water damage on this one, as the colors on her skin was uneven. Some places it outright muddied into the background, it was so dark, and elsewhere it was nearly as pale as the first one. It was possible it wasn’t water damage, and the painter was just having a terrible day, she supposed.

“And of course, for the lucky few, we find a boy with mage blood in him. Magic itself--well it really broaches no reason to explain, does it? To serve the Crown itself--to become a hand of the Crown, is there any greater honor?”

“Raising four kids!” someone shouted from the crowd.

There was polite laughter and clapping.

Ceyda struggled to tell if the eyes were uneven on this woman, or if she was just at a bad angle. She couldn’t really see details, but shapes were still shapes. Regardless, this woman had dark black hair, which also faded into the background. The only reason Ceyda could tell the hair was there at all was because of the contrast against the white and gold dress. She was holding a book in one hand and what appeared to be some sort of orb in the other.

“And our girls, meanwhile, our precious young women, they too can become towers. If male towers are staples of our community, female towers are truly the heart and soul. What are we, if not raised by our mothers?”

The orb had a weird black glint to it. Was it supposed to be reflecting light? What a terrible painter.

“Or maybe they’re chatelaines. Hard to understand, but if you treat her right and train her well, you’ll never know a more caring woman. My own wife is a chatelaine, you know. It’s a classic set up, really. She spends her time alone, and when I come home, there’s a warm meal for me. We don’t even have to talk to communicate our needs, a single exchanged glance is enough--”

These paintings were boring. She needed to find something else to keep her interested. Maybe the ceiling. Those were sometimes very strange, due to no one looking at them. She tilted her head back, and sure enough, to her surprise, the ceiling was comprised of giant squares covered in white paint.

Unfortunately, the electrical light made it very bright, and it hurt her eyes to look at. But when she blinked, she saw changing colors, so that was neat. That would definitely kill ten minutes of her not knowing what to do.

“And of course, we cannot forget the lighthouses. Vibrant young women with a passion for pushing their future husbands, and imbuing the entire community with motivation to live another day.”

Ceyda felt her mother swell in pride. She was a lighthouse, and proud of it. Ceyda frowned and tried to push the speech out of her head. She didn’t need to hear about how great lighthouses were.

The Blanche man really liked to hear himself talk. He was now launching into some silly anecdote about his mother, and her untimely death, and how that made him feel things and forever changed his life.

Ceyda couldn’t really call it relevant, or interesting.

Finally, the speeches ended, and what was left was for the actual rituals. Each one was taken to a private room and administered the core test.

Ceyda had not been a fan of it. It involved sitting in a dark room and answering questions about shapes, as well as ascribing value to statements.

There had been one annoying statement--

“The world speaks to us”

Ceyda hadn’t understood it, and when she asked to elaborate, she was told she could only answer agree or disagree. She decided to just say agree, as it seemed like the more optimistic answer.

And then the tester had frowned at her, scribbled something vaguely in his notes, and said the test was over. It was very rude and she had no idea why ‘disagree’ was the right answer but it plagued her greatly.

Her father had said she merely didn’t get it, and that it was actually a very complex, in depth assessment of every part of a person. She supposed it was likely she just hadn’t understood something, that was common.

It would be nice if someone could explain it, but she was told she wasn’t allowed to discuss specifics with others. Yone Fontaine had talked about it, and his father had boxed him across the ears, and Ceyda liked her ears.

“Pay attention, Ceyda,” her mother whispered. “This is the most important moment of their lives.”

Ceyda nodded and stared at the group of teenagers with her brother. She just had to pay attention and not think about how weird it was that this manor was on the very edge of the town, and yet clearly had more servants than most of the manors closer to central Bricketfriar.

How did the servants get here? Did they have quarters? Ceyda had heard that in some towns, servants lived in the manors. Were they allowed to drive? That didn’t seem right. It was a large manor, they probably lived here. What did a singular family need with all these rooms anyway? Her house had three parlors, and that mostly meant one only was entered on fancy occasions, and another was never entered at all.

Granted, this manor had a ballroom. An entire room just for dancing! And it was a bit crowded, sure,but that was only because every noble family in Bricketfriar was here, with children. Imagine if it was just her, like on the days when she had her own house to herself.

She’d probably roll around on the floor and spread her hands and legs as far as she could, just to see if she could do it without touching any furniture or walls.

Of course, her mother would never let her stay home alone in a manor like this. It was all electrical. There could be a fire and then Ceyda would die and then it would be Ceyda’s fault, somehow.

There was a sudden sharp nudge to her waist, courtesy of her mother. Ceyda stopped slouching, sat up straight, and looked around in confusion. Mehdi was being guided into the back room. Oh had they reached him already? She might have zoned out. Toxic ruminations struck again, it would seem.

She tried to figure out what the two teenagers before him had become, but there was no way to tell. When she had done hers, she had been given a green pin to wear, but that apparently wasn’t happening this Adreday, so she was just stuck knowing nothing.

After a few minutes, Mehdi was guided out.

The test giver, an elderly gaslamp, clapped him on the back.

“I must say, it is very, very rarely I get to say this, but I am proud to announce we have a new mage in Bricketfriar!”

Ceyda’s mother gave a small yell, and immediately stood up, clapping vigorously. The others joined her.

Well. Damnation.

The bracelet sprung to life, and shocked her severely. It took all she had to not fall to the ground and yell.

“That’s my son!” her father called proudly.

“Oh, he's going to have to go away--oh do you think he’ll be all right? He’s never been outside of Bricketfriar--does he look happy or sad, Aloysius? Can you tell from here? He looks sad.”

“Looks like a teenager to me.”

Ceyda slid down her chair, resisting the urge to scream. Her bracelet was vibrating so intensely that her arm was beginning to numb. She needed to think happy thoughts but it was hard to quantify the sheer amount of unfounded stress she felt from this singular instance.

She didn’t even know the Lucrece’s had mage blood!

If she had been born a boy, she could have been a mage. How rude.

“I need to use a washroom,” Ceyda muttered, and slunk away quickly. She had no idea where such a thing was, but there were probably twelve washrooms in this entire manor, so she’d find one eventually.

As she pulled away from the crowd--something caught her eye.

The pale blonde stranger in the simple dress walked out of one door, straight past Ceyda, and into another door.

Right past the mage guard who had been patrolling it.

Without even thinking, Ceyda walked quickly, and slid into the door before it closed. The mage said nothing.

And Ceyda was encompassed in an unlit hallway of a manor.

The entire process, from seeing the woman to now, trespassing into an unfamiliar part of the manor, had taken less than a minute. She hadn’t even processed what was going on. Her bracelet shocked her as sheer adrenaline coursed through her veins and she fell to her knees in shock.

She could do anything she wanted! She could go on an adventure! Stalk the weird woman! Scope out the entire manor! And she had no idea what to do because she was so incredibly overwhelmed!

She just had to be calmer! Calm enough to not set off her bracelet! Calm enough to go on an adventure and do something truly remarkable for once in her life!

The bracelet vibrated unhappily.

Calmer thoughts. Less exciting thoughts. Do something possibly interesting, after a long period of boredom in her life.

The bracelet did not shock her.

This would be easy! Stay calm and apathetic, even when everything was super enticing. It was practically a specialty of Ceyda’s.

With this thought invigorating her, she stood up, and traipsed down the dark hallway. It was colder here than the ballroom. Perhaps they could not afford to heat both at the same time, or maybe it just wasn’t worth it, as nobody was supposed to be in here.

Every curtain was closed, meaning no light came through, making it hard to see. She could only guess she was in some sort of library, based on the dark shadows that were a bit different than the Other dark shadows in the hallway.

And then, as she stumbled blindly--a light in the distance caught her eye. Sacred skies, finally! She thought she’d get lost in a maze of darkness!

Her bracelet gave her a quiet shock from the curse.

As she approached the light, she saw her guess of a library had been correct, but it wasn’t just books--there were many small tables, encased in glass, with items inside of them. Rocks, gems, fragments of metal, and other strange odds and ends.

The light meanwhile--it wasn’t a light bulb. Well, perhaps it was, but not one Ceyda recognized. It was...book shaped? That couldn’t be right, but with her poor eyesight, it looked like a glowing, floating book.

She stepped closer to the light.

As she did, a violent shock reverberated up her body. It wasn’t like the one from her bracelet. This felt more like all her muscles seized up simultaneously. She couldn’t move. Ceyda blinked, and tried to lower her arms into an idle position, but even that proved impossible.

“Why are you following me?”

The voice was soft, high pitched, but not in a way Ceyda was expecting. From the shadows, stood the strange woman, glaring at her with piercing blue eyes.

Ceyda tried to back away, but found she couldn’t. Instead, words leapt out of her mouth, quite outside of her own control.

“Because it’s fun!” Ceyda sputtered.

The woman blinked at her. The way she moved was… strange. Abnormal. Exaggerated. Like some sort of… child. Or an axe murderer of doom.

“Why did you follow me? Why not anyone else?” she asked, her voice still low. She was breathing on Ceyda now. It smelled disgusting. Up close, even without her glasses Ceyda could see the woman was wearing no makeup either. How strange.

And why couldn’t she move? What had this woman done to her?

“I--I just like watching people. And you seemed interesting. You spoke weirdly, earlier. Said something I didn’t understand,” Ceyda said, once again more honestly than she had been intending.

The woman frowned. “Fucking shit.”

Ceyda wanted to yell in surprise, but found herself unable to.

“So you’re just… some thing… that followed me just--” the woman trailed off into a string of curses.

“...sorry?” Ceyda squeaked.

The woman gritted her teeth in a rather vulgar manner. Ceyda didn’t know whether to be disgusted or envious that she did it so easily.

“Are you a Blanche?” the woman asked.

“No, I’m a Lucrece.”

“I don’t know what that is. At all,” the woman said flatly.

“It’s my family--”

“Please stop,” the woman insisted.

Ceyda’s jaw found itself clamped shut.

The woman looked at the exhibit, then back at Ceyda. She sighed. “Well, I guess I’m just going to have to kill you.”

Ceyda did not like this idea at all. One could say she was firmly against it.

The woman raised her hand, most likely to strangle Ceyda or something else obscene (poison on a handkerchief? Ceyda had read about that once).

A crashing noise interrupted the very terrifying murder process.

The woman looked to where the noise came, in the direction of the exhibit. “Haidolah’s grace, what now?”

Haidolah? Who was that? And why was she swearing by them?

Ceyda looked around in confusion, as her joints loosened ever so slightly, and saw something illuminated by what indeed was a glowing book--

“One of the pedestals is broken,” Ceyda supplied helpfully.

“What do you mean--” the woman paused and stared at the room filled with artifacts. Sure enough, one near a separate door that neither had traveled through had tipped over, with shattered glass everywhere.

Without saying another word, the glowing book vanished and the woman dashed across the room, and tore open the door, disappearing into the darkness.

Ceyda collapsed to the ground yet again, but this time from the strain of staying in the same position for several seconds.

What was that? She had never frozen like that before, so completely and utterly. Perhaps the woman had some sort of magical effect to her? A bracelet that shocked others, instead of herself? Either way, she had two options.

Pretend she saw nothing, and leave, or follow after, risking death and a lifetime of punishment and horror from her parents.

She turned to leave. It was the very logical choice to quit while she was ahead.

But her curiosity overwhelmed her. She knew she shouldn’t. It was a classic chatelaine move, really. Be so consumed by fickle curiosity that she would ignore all reason just to see it. It was something she had been told to never do, ever. Again. And again.

Well, how about just one time, and then never again?

Ceyda took pursuit, and ran down the hallway that the woman had left. To her surprise, the door was completely off its hinge. How had that happened? It must have been an old, terrible door for the other woman to do that.

This hallway was narrow, clearly for servant use.

She ran blindly into the dark, and slammed her nose against the wall for her troubles. A distant light to her left told her that she should have turned about half a footstep ago.

Foul curses and exclamations filled the air, and Ceyda ran towards it still, her nose bleeding at a steady drip from the impact.

She turned the final corner and saw--

Servant boys. Three of them.Young. Around her age, maybe. Huddled in a hallway, frozen, while one gripped a large book of the non-glowing variety tightly. The woman, meanwhile, was standing over them, just as she had done to Ceyda.

The servant boys.

Had stolen something.

It was a heist! By the crown it was an honest to goodness--

Her bracelet shocked her at the curse and she jumped back, but couldn't be distracted from the sheer intensity of what she saw before her.

An actual heist! She was face to face with a heist! Was the woman an undercover Blanche guard? Was she here to protect the book? Or was she here to steal it and the servants were protecting it?

“Hey fuck off lady!” a servant yelled.

“I will do no such thing,” the woman said quietly. “On any level.”

The servant suddenly started convulsing, as if hit with a seizure. His mouth began to froth, and his head was bleeding as he was forcibly and repeatedly hitting the ground.

“Are you--what is that--” the servant clutching the book sputtered.

“Haven’t you ever seen magic before, child?” the woman sneered.

“You’re--you’re a girl!” the servant yelled back.

The woman stared at her dress, and then back at the servant. “And you’ll be dead. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?”

The servant struggled, as if trying to open the book, but he too seemed to be unable to move.

Ceyda didn’t know what to do, so she did the first thing that came to her mind. She ripped off her shoe and chucked it at the woman. It missed, gloriously so, and clocked the servant holding the book in the eye.

This seemed to break their frozen state, as the servant reeled backwards, clutching their eye, and dropping the book.

The book opened, and started to glow, far outshining the woman’s glowing book. It was a brilliant, blinding white.

“Gods damn it!” the woman yelled, looking at Ceyda in annoyance.

The strange speaking woman was glowing now, but so were the servants behind her. When Ceyda looked down, briefly, at her hand, she saw she was glowing too.

“What did you do?” The woman hissed at the servant.

“We were just supposed to steal it! Don’t ask us!” the servant shot back, clearly just as confused as she was.

“I was supposed to steal it! Why were you stealing it?!” the woman yelled back.

It was a double heist! Two separate heists! Clashing in a terrible fashion! This would have been amazing if Ceyda wasn’t slightly sure she was going to die.

She began to panic, and her bracelet started to vibrate with intensity, shocking her with every breath.

“Wh-why were you stealing it? Who are you!” one of the servants shot back at the woman.

“I was stealing it because it’s a living battery! Hello! Do you know what secret magic exists in there?” the woman insisted.

“Well we were stealing it so we could kill every last rich fuck in this neighborhood, and start a revolution!” the servant said, before clapping his mouth with horror at saying it.

The glowing was getting brighter and brighter in this narrow little hallway. The book was beginning to float. Ceyda blinked hazily.

“I want to be involved so I can claim to be someone special and worth knowing,” Ceyda said, with absolutely no prompting or no reason. The words felt foreign on her tongue. Before, the truth had been ripped out of her, bluntly. But here it was more like the thought had simply been there, and she had given it form without even realizing.

She crawled forward, her bracelet still going haywire at the sudden influx of stimulus. But it wasn’t just her panicking. It couldn’t be--it was the book. There was no way Ceyda was panicking that much. There must be something weird about what was being stolen.

Her attempt to crawl failed her, and she began to spasm uncontrollably as her bracelet shocked her.

The pale blonde woman grabbed the book, and a distinct burning hissing noise was heard as her flesh touched it. She moaned from the pain, and started to back away, as if in a fugue. Every step she took, the stolen book’s glow became brighter. And the more the book glowed, the more the servants and Ceyda herself glowed.

It went from an extremely bright light, to absolutely blinding.

And then there was nothing. Nothing at all.