The City of Klearon was the heart of the district of Dimir, even though it was situated at the intersection of four other districts. The city was not founded simply because five separate districts t at their borders—history suggested the opposite.
The city was ford first, on account of a stabilised Waygate—which could transport people thousands of miles in re minutes—then the district ca to be. Thanks to the Waygate, Klearon served as the central city for the entire western outskirts of the empire. Of course, nothing suggested Klearon to be a backwater city, even though it was founded a re hundred and fifty years ago. This late foundation favoured Klearon, allowing it to benefit from the latest innovations and chanisms to erect a city of magnificence.
As I walked between my parents on the fine cobblestone path, I rarely saw any hardwood houses like ours. On both sides of us, tall establishnts of stone and concrete stood, clustered together, squeezing for every inch of space. Business and trade thrived in the city, unlike in Karl Valley, where the main occupation was farming and rearing animals.
I counted thirteen inns and taverns on the way, each larger than the two we had in Karl combined. We ca to a halt before one called The Lonely Wanderer. Inside, a dozen or more people lazed and ate—excluding the attendants—already telling the inn was, in fact, not for lonely wanderers.
“Ash!”
A voice caught my mother’s attention before mine, and I spotted my aunt at one of the empty tables in the lounge, a book in hand.
“You didn’t tell Aunt would be here?” I grumbled, though delighted at the surprise. Mum smiled as I ran to the table.
I was big enough now that my aunt would have trouble swooping up in her arms, though I was sure she would manage fine with her magical power. She settled for embracing gently, stroking my hair.
“Is Rose with you?” I asked, my eyes wandering in search of my other aunt.
“Unfortunately,” Aunt Emi said, “she doesn’t have much leeway now that she’s entered the Oracle Academy. She has to study for two whole seasons before she can get a break.”
For so reason, my expression dropped a little. It wasn’t that I missed that goblin, but she was the only one who showed magic and what was possible with it. I loved Aunt Emi, but she rely smiled when I asked her to demonstrate. The last ti she visited, she demonstrated a telekinesis spell and a little fireworks.
Mum and Father joined us at the table as Aunt Emi flashed a quick glance towards my father before returning her focus to .
“Although she isn’t here,” she said, reading my disappointnt, “she has sent a gift.”
“A gift?” I jumped to my feet. “What is it?”
She smiled and brought out a large present box from her duffel bag. She handed it to , and I found it was easily half as tall as I was.
“What’s inside it?” I asked, my eyes glued to the box.
“Open it and find out.”
My gaze drifted towards my mum, who nodded. Only then did I abandon all propriety, tearing through the wrapping paper. Inside, I found another rectangular box made of thin, flat wood. I couldn’t help but wonder whether Rose was playing a trick on —that when I opened this box, I’d find another box inside. Thankfully, that was not the case.
Mum helped open the wooden box since it was sealed with pins and nails. My gaze remained fixed as she lifted out a violin.
I rembered telling Rose once that I would love to learn the violin when she tried to give a flute. I hadn’t expected her to rember it.
“Thankfully, it's not a sword or a staff,” sniffed Mum, handing the instrunt.
I held it in reverent awe. It was a lot heavier than I had imagined. My fingers traced the smooth, polished wood of the violin as the oily scent of paint and varnish filled my nostrils. Although the sll was a bit pungent, I found myself in love with all of it. Hesitantly, I plucked a string, causing a sharp note to echo.
Of course, the note was nowhere near a soothing sound, as a few patrons at a nearby table shot their gazes towards us.
“Let’s put it away for now,” Mother said, securing the bow before placing the violin back into the wooden box.
I pouted. Obviously, I would have liked to play with it so more before putting it away, but I didn’t believe the other people would enjoy my attempts.
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“Don’t forget to practise,” Aunt Emi said fondly. “Rose went to great lengths to track down a master luthier and hire her services for the violin.”
“I forgot,” Aunt Emi said, handing a letter. “She sent a note.”
There were barely a couple of paragraphs from Rosalyn, asking to tell her if I liked her gift. And, of course, she did not forget to threaten about taking it away if I failed to play a full song the next ti she visited.
“Don’t forget to thank her,” Mum said and cocked her head. “Now the question is, who is going to teach you to play the violin?”
I looked at her, then at Aunt Emi, who shook her head lightly, before I finally turned towards my father. Not for a mont did I believe that my father’s large, calloused hands had ever lain upon any unfortunate musical instrunts, and the dismayed look on his face only confird it.
“Well,” he said, “we can hire soone to teach him if it cos to that.”
Mum shook her head. “Good luck finding soone willing to move or travel regularly to Karl.”
Is there nobody in the valley who knows how to play the violin?
“Can’t I learn it on my own?” I asked.
Mum exchanged a glance with the others before replying, “Of course you can, though it might take ti to figure out your way into it. The violin is a difficult instrunt to master.”
I arched my eyebrows. “More difficult than learning a magical spell?”
“That depends,” Mum uttered her famous two words to most of my curiosity. “If we go by pure numbers, there are more Shapers in the realms than musicians. I suppose, if we're talking talent, it’s fair to say there are fewer with a gift for music than for the primal forces of nature. But, unlike casting a magical spell, a violin doesn’t require you to be born with a specific kind of talent.”
“So, it’s not more difficult than learning to spell-cast?” I asked, more unsure than before she began.
“You’ll get your answer after you try it, pumpkin,” she said.
At least she wasn’t forbidding from learning.
“There’s a novelty in music,” Aunt Emi said. “It doesn’t pay well as an occupation. Between the cost of the instrunt and lessons, most common folk don’t even consider it. And yet the number of musicians among the awakened may surprise us all—so even manage to advance to Prestigious and Fabled Class.”
“Are you thinking of Master Kaius?” Mum said.
“He’s still around?” Father perked up, interjecting for the first ti.
“I haven’t seen him for years,” Mum said, turning to Aunt Emi. “Does he still teach at the academy?”
“No.” Aunt Emi’s expression darkened. “He was relieved from his office.”
“Who would be foolish enough to do that to soone like Master Kaius?” Father asked, a frown creasing his brow.
“There are always so,” Aunt Emi said, shooting him a look. So far, they had only exchanged a nod—a nod of acknowledging each other’s existence, not of familiarity. “How do you know him, if you don’t mind asking?”
“A long ti ago,” Father said, “when I was a little older than Arilyn, Master Kaius was in a travelling troupe that ca to our town to perform. I saw him from ti to ti, and he helped when I needed it.”
“That sounds like him,” Aunt Emi said. "Well, I haven't seen him for over a year either. Hmm, maybe we can find the book he published about Music and songs."
An attendant arrived to take our orders. Folks around us were ordering all sorts of hearty als with steaks, but Mum, being Mum, ordered Moha bread spread with a healthy bit of butter, along with vegetables and salads. Father was fine with leaving all the decisions to her, so I kept my lips sealed too, even if I wanted to have sothing exotic for my first visit to a city.
“Arilyn, are you circulating your essence right now?” Aunt Emi asked, narrowing her eyes at . Mum’s sharp gaze snapped to at her words.
“I’m not,” I said, “not actively. Mum only lets practise an hour a day.”
Aunt Emi arched an eyebrow, sparing a glance towards her elder sister, a wordless understanding flowing between them. It was not sothing anyone else was privy to.
“I had to teach him the process last week,” Mum explained. “His body only just adapted to the circulation and pathways.”
“Still, it’s pretty impressive to have passive circulation,” Aunt Emi said. “For a mont, I thought you were doing it actively.”
“It is impressive,” Mum said curtly, “for his age.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Passive circulation was rely the byproduct of having secure pathways where the essence could move. It didn’t require the great ntal power that active circulation did. Of course, it was multiple tis slower—to the point that a couple of hours of active Essence Unification was more useful than an entire day of passive circulation. Besides, passive circulation hardly counted towards the Way of Essence Unification.
“Last ti we spoke, you said you didn’t intend to teach him before the ritual. That there was still a year and a half. What changed? Are you planning on having him awaken naturally?”
I perked up at the question, though I failed to comprehend what a natural awakening was compared to whatever the alternative was.
“Only the Oracle knows what it will co to be,” Mum quashed all the questions before they even began to form in my mind.
I grumbled, looking at her with puppy eyes. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as effective as it used to be. The years had stolen my absolute and only weapon—cuteness.
The food arrived soon, and we ate our lunch in relative silence. It all tasted good, especially the Moha bread. It wasn’t like usual bread—far more tender, lting with the slightest chewing. I wondered how they baked it.
“Now that we’ve filled our bellies,” Aunt Emi asked, turning to Mum, “can you tell why you called all of a sudden? It can’t be simply because you want to et your spouse. You ntioned it’s important, though you refused to say what it is.”
“You’re right, my spouse is naturally not important enough for to call you,” Mum jabbed, “though a rare sight in our life.”
Aunt Emi didn’t appreciate the quip, but it did reach its mark—making Father uncomfortable.
“I didn’t give you the reason in the letter,” Mum hesitated, asuring her words carefully, “because I feared you might decline my request.”
“And which is?”
Mum inhaled deeply, wisps of faint, translucent essence seeping into her skin, forming out of nowhere. I was so transfixed by the phenonon that I almost missed her next words.
“I want you to be Arilyn’s godmother.”
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