ILoveTheNightLifeTemple Street never really slept, though its bustle of activity muted a trifle after sunset. It was at this time that Temnal enjoyed it the most; as the light began to fade he would set aside his books, descend from his third-floor college room, and wend his way from the University campus down into the city to explore its byways and sample its entertainments. On this particular evening he'd been prospecting through a few of the curiosity shops tucked away on the side streets of the main avenue. He was strolling back up Temple, with a brown paper parcel under his arm, when his attention was caught by music and movement on one of the open-air stages. These were usually used by performers who didn't have the money or backing to rent one of the theatres -- which could mean they were young, or poor (in either sense of the word), or risky, or risqué, or any combination of the above. Wandering closer and weaving his way through clumps of spectators, Temnal decided that this particular dance performance (as it turned out to be) was actually pretty good. The style of the music and the lack of a discernable storyline made him think it was probably avant-garde, but he found himself enjoying the freedom of it. What few benches there were in the vicinity of the stage were already filled, so he perched on the base of a statue and settled in to watch. Rusalka was heading back up to her dorm from a downtown pub that she tried (out of respect for her father's blood pressure) to leave around sundown whenever she visited it. A particularly interesting leap and swirl of fabric coupled with somehow fluid and jagged lines which reminded her of molten metal turned her attention toward the dancers and she wandered closer, watching from behind the benches. She gasped and clapped her hands at one especially challenging move which involved two dancers, trust and a lot of balance. Evidently she was not the only audience member impressed by the move; others were clapping too, and from the plinth of a nearby statue she heard the soft exclamation, "Oh, well done!" The speaker was a dark-skinned, pale-haired young...man?...in a University uniform. She almost didn't feel the stealthy fingers reaching for her purse... Distracted by the striking young man, the slight brush of a touch took an instant too long for Rusalka to react, and the hand that reached to cover her own purse was ... just... an instant too late. She turned quickly to see what was going on. "Stop!" The sharpness of her exclamation alerted Temnal, who looked around in time to see what was happening. The thief was no doubt counting on the uncertain light to make his getaway, but Temnal's dark-adapted eyes could see him quite clearly. His hands came up in a complicated sign and his lips formed a few arcane words. The escaping thief, suddenly unable to move, toppled to the pavement. Rusalka gasped, concern for the thief warring with pleasure that he hadn't gotten away with her week's allowance. She rushed forward, kneeling beside the prone form and replacing her purse in her pocket. Then she looked around to find the source of her assistance. Temnal also crossed over and squatted next to the immobilized thief to check on his condition, his face intent with concentration. "Wow..." she said, after she had seen that the man was alive. "That was really... amazing." "Chains of Loki," Temnal replied cryptically and somewhat distractedly, still concentrating on the spell. "Now that you have your purse back, do you wish to alert the authorities?" The ragged thief could apparently not move his lips to protest, but he managed a whimper. Rusalka looked at the man and sighed, shaking her head. "No, I think Daddy'd try to make sure someone threw the whole library at him. No harm was done. But thank you for helping me anyway." Temnal nodded and said sternly to the thief, "Have more respect for the arts next time." He straightened, releasing the spell, and let the man scramble to his feet. The thief promptly took to his heels and was soon lost in the crowd. She let herself take a closer look at the man and a sort of fascinated half-smile fought for control of her face. "You're not from Amber originally, are you?" His lips curved in an answering smile. "No, I'm a transfer student from House Chanicut in Chaos. Temnal nov'dy Chanicut, and happy to be of service to you," he added with a little bow. His head tilted as he regarded Rusalka's own coloring with evident curiosity. "And yourself?" She replied to the bow with a matched curtsy, but her expression was still far from formal. "In Chaos?" she repeated. "I've always been curious about Chaos. My mother's from that side of the universe too, but not quite so illustrious as a noble House of Chaos. That's why I have this crazy hair, I expect, but I was born here -- I'm Rusalka Cardovan." "A pleasure to meet you, Rusalka, though the circumstances could have been more favorable," said Temnal. "I take it you're a University student as well?" "Second year," Rusalka said with a mixture of pride and bright sweetness. "I'll show you around any time you like, I love campus almost as much as I love exploring different parts of the city. Circumstances?... oh, right. That poor man. Do you like the arts much?" "As a spectator," Temnal replied with a smile, a flash of white teeth in his dark face. "I can't claim to be much of a practitioner. Exploring is good too." "I know what you mean," Rusalka agreed, finding herself responding to that smile. Her own was open and ingenuous. "I like dancing, but I'm more of a cheerleader... no talent, you see... Are you staying on campus?" "Yes, I am. It's not palatial, but it's comfortable enough, and they do allow you to personalize your quarters. In fact, I just..." He paused and looked quickly back at the base of the statue where he'd been sitting. The brown paper parcel was still leaning against it. "Oh, good, I didn't lose it." "Ooh, what is it? If you don't mind my asking... I love artwork!" Rusalka let herself drift toward the package. Temnal grinned. "Just a little something to brighten up the room. I saw it hanging in one of the little shops down a side street, and couldn't resist." He carefully unfolded the brown paper and held up a mobile of brightly enameled, varicolored butterflies that bobbed and circled in the night breeze. Rusalka leaned forward, watching the movement of the butterflies with fascinated delight. "It's beautiful," she breathed. "The colors are fantastic. What shop did you find it at?" "I don't know the name of it," said Temnal, "but it's...let me think..." He pointed. "Three streets that way, turn left, and it's the fifth door on the right." "Ohhh, that one," Rusalka said, clearly recognizing the description. "I've never been in but I've walked past a few times. So, which of the houses are you staying in? One of the dormitories?" "Yes, I'm in Crome Hall," answered Temnal, naming one of the older, smaller dormitories, but one well known for its profusion of gargoyles. "Oh, that's not very far from Lily House, really -- that's where my rooms are. Do you like the gargoyles? I do." One corner of Temnal's mouth twitched up. "Let's say they remind me of home." "I think it's one of the prettier Halls actually, although someone told me there isn't enough hot water. Do you have a roommate?" "No, I'm on my own, which may be just as well," Temnal replied. "Between keeping the curtains closed all day and doing smelly alchemical experiments at odd hours, I suspect I'd be a sore trial for anyone rooming with me." "Ohh... because it's very different from the Courts, then? Do your eyes... is that why you keep the curtains closed? Unicorn, I'm running on... sorry..." Rusalka smiled nervously. "I've just never met anyone like you before. Are you heading home? We could walk together." "Yes, the performance seems to be over," said Temnal, with a glance in the direction of the stage. "I'd be happy to walk with you. Then they won't be able to prog you for being out after dark without an escort," he pointed out, as he started to wrap up the butterfly mobile again. It wasn't as neat a parcel as the shopkeeper had made of it, but it was serviceable. Once they'd started up the street in the direction of the University, Temnal went on to explain, "You're quite right about the curtains. Where I grew up it was very dark, so full sunlight is...uncomfortable, to say the least." "Would you get used to it, or is it genetic? Like... one of the Society girls is from the Courts, too, and she can change her hair color -- she says that's genetic." "I'm not sure, but I think it probably is genetic, at least partly," said Temnal. "My eyes are meant for seeing in very low light, so full sunlight here is ... blinding." Rusalka fell into pace beside Temnal, keeping an eye about for anything else exciting she hadn't seen on her way over. "Did you like it where you grew up? Why did you decide to come this far out?" Temnal was silent for a few moments before he answered in a low voice, "No, I didn't like it very much, where I grew up. That's why I was happy to come to the Courts. But things...memories...followed me even there. So we thought perhaps, if I came to Amber, I could shake them off. And get a good education, too," he added in a brighter tone. "Faiella University is one of the best there is, after all." "Oh, yes, I know it is," Rusalka agreed. Then she paused, considering what he had said. "I hope that the memories stop plaguing you here, Temnal -- if I may call you Temnal?" "Please do," he responded. "And thank you for the good wishes." Then he went on, "You said you're in your second year. What are you studying now that you're not limited to the baccalaureus?" She crinkled her nose. "Nothing exciting, really. Interior design, etiquette, history, business, art, music -- the degree is called liberal studies, but it's a compilation my mother mostly designed that's supposed to prepare me for being a noblewoman and running a household. For electives, I do mostly physical activity courses and some astronomy. What are you thinking of studying?" "I haven't really decided yet," Temnal replied, "though I know I want to pursue Alchemy, and of course Magic Theory is related to that. But I'm also interested in art and literature and philosophy and...well, all kinds of things. I suppose it depends on what I can fit into my schedule and not lose focus." Rusalka nodded, licking her lips. "You might want to throw a class in there just to blow off steam -- you seem very focused, but it can be overwhelming here at first, and Alchemy and Magic Theory sound like the prerequisites must be kind of work-intensive." "I expect they are, though I have some background in the subjects already," said Temnal. "All the same, you're probably right about blowing off steam. I've been warned before about not being too obsessive," he mused, thinking back to Ilona's card reading. "I suppose that depends on what you're like when you're obsessing," Rusalka said lightly. "It's not a bad thing to know what you want. It's just rare." He slanted a glance at her, smiling slightly. "Is it? Or is it more that it's rare to be able to decide on one thing? What do you want out of life?" he asked her. "I don't mean what's expected of you, or what you think you ought to do. What do you want?" She thought about that for a while before she suddenly laughed, blushing slightly and shook her head. "I don't know, really. Adventure, I suppose. Excitement. Friends. A chance to decide for myself. All that sounds... pretty childish, doesn't it?" "Not at all," Temnal responded, "especially the last one." "Thank you," she said sincerely, taking a moment to try to make real eye contact. "Papa says its childish whenever I say I don't want to do the same things my big sister did. But she's..." Rusalka shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What about you -- what do you want?" "Sometimes I think a quiet life would be even better than the secrets of the universe," Temnal said a little wistfully, then added half-jokingly, "A quiet life in a library. But friends..." He smiled over at Rusalka. "That's good too." "Living in a library," Rusalka thought about. She shook her head slightly -- she'd get claustrophobic. But to each his own. She returned the smile. "Absolutely. Say, do you want to go right back or get a drink first?" "A drink sounds good, actually," Temnal replied. Glancing around the street they were walking up, he asked Rusalka, "Do you have any preferences as to where?" Rusalka beamed. She adored it when people asked her about the city. "Actually, there's this fantastic little place just a few blocks down and around the corner called Jimmy's. It's dark and it's a bit of a dive, but I've been there alone a few times and the people were nothing but absolutely friendly and welcoming. And the drinks are fantastic -- they do a thing they call a Chaosian Candle -- I'm sure to someone from the Courts it's probably terribly unauthentic, but it tastes marvelous... And they do a very nice stuffed hot pepper if you're feeling as peckish as I am." "Sounds interesting," Temnal replied. He flashed a smile and added, "I'm not afraid of the dark. And believe me, the Courts are multifarious enough that I can't imagine anything counting as 'inauthentic.' Lead on!" She nodded, a slight bounce in her step causing her bright tresses to flip as she walked. The tavern wasn't far at all, but it was down something which someone a bit less optimistic would call an alley. The door was narrow and had a barred window on it, but it was at the moment open, spilling warm light, spicy aromas and the sound of a decent guitar player strumming some old classic down the red-carpeted stairs into the night. "Are you an 'after you' sort of gentleman, or a 'walk-behind-so-she-doesn't faint and fall down the stairs' gentleman?" Rusalka asked Temnal with a wink. Temnal blinked at her, the expression on his face suggesting that he'd never in his life considered the matter at all. After a moment of thought he asked, "Doesn't it come to the same thing?" "Not really," she laughed. "But I can see you're neither. Oh, good. I'll lead the way, anyway, since I've been here before." As she climbed the stairs she said, "If the stairs were down, the second sort of gentleman would go in front of me -- the first one wouldn't. It generally indicates the difference between courtly manners and condescension." Temnal's only comment on this was, "Not all courts work the same way." There were quite a few stairs, flanked by often-patched walls literally covered in paintings, old sign-posts and portraits of Amber's famous (and infamous). At the top it widened out into an open patch littered with billiard tables. Further, a slight step up to wood floors heralded the bar and restaurant section. The place was fairly crowded, but they could spy an empty table near the corner. Temnal looked around interestedly. He pointed out the empty table to Rusalka, while at the same time scanning the other tables for anyone he recognized. Rusalka followed Temnal's gaze and drifted toward the empty table. A tired but smiling waiter caught their eye and came by just as they were getting seated. "Just drinks, tonight, folks or would you like to see a menu?" he asked. Temnal smiled at the waiter. "I'd like to try your 'Chaosian Candle'," he said. "Rusalka?" She bit her lip, considering. "Um... a Darling Deirdre for me," she said. Smiling at Temnal, she added, "I still have to walk home, after all." "I wouldn't let you fall over," he promised, then added lightly, "But of course that assumes I'd be walking straight myself. I expect you know best." As the waiter nodded, jotting a few things down and disappearing in the direction of the bar, she said, "Have you been able to explore much of the city so far?" "Well, I've only been here since the beginning of the semester," Temnal demurred. "I guess you could say I've been gradually exploring outward from the University. But I know I've only seen a fraction of what there is to see. There seems to be something new around every corner, doesn't there?" "It's really amazing," Rusalka agreed, leaning toward him, elbows on the table, eyes alight. "I've been exploring ever since I was big enough Papa'd let me out of the house alone and I still haven't found everything -- and get lost. A lot more than you'd think. What are the Courts of Chaos like? Someone told me it changes. How is that?" "Several ways," Temnal replied. "True Chaos is always in flux, the Elements dislimning and recombining randomly. That's why native Chaosians have to be shapeshifters. But even in the Ways -- the parts that have been put together for people to live in -- the veils between worlds, or pieces of worlds, are very permeable. So that if you don't keep your wits about you, it's all too easy to, say, open a door and step onto a path or into a room that's not quite the same as the version you were in last time." Tiny frown lines appeared between Rusalka's brows at the words she wasn't quite understanding. Then she said, "Like a dream? Only it's real?" "Dreams can be like that, yes," Temnal agreed. "And then, of course, depending on the tastes of the Shadowmaster who made a particular Ways, it can be rather ... kaleidoscopic even if you navigate it properly. If this room were in Chaos, for instance, the door we came in by might give onto a street, whereas that one over there might lead out onto a mountain path, and that window might look out onto a seascape." Rusalka, a firm believer in the kaleidoscope and someone who could get bored at a slow sporting event, glowed while considering this information. "That sounds wonderful! You could go anywhere you wanted and still be back by supper time!" Temnal grinned. "Maybe, maybe not. The relative time flows can vary, too." "Oh dear." She licked her lips. The drinks arrived and she took a sip of hers after thanking the waiter. "I suppose people who are always late are always late wherever they are." Temnal chuckled. "I suppose so. If you're that kind of person, there's not a lot you or anyone can do about it." He inspected his drink carefully before taking a sip. The drink appeared to be made of mixtures of seven extremely potent exotic liquors, none of which were from anywhere near Chaos. The name might perhaps have come from its color -- or rather the swirls of red and yellow in its generally blue hue. Temnal swirled the glass gently to further blend the flavors, and then sipped at the drink. Rusalka shrugged. "It still sounds exciting." "It is that," Temnal agreed. "It can also be dangerous, of course, but that does have the advantage of keeping you alert." "I wish I didn't know about being alert," Rusalka sighed, the liquor warming her and the casual conversation making her forget her worries. Then suddenly she looked up. "Do you know what time it is?" "I'm not sure," Temnal replied. "I don't think it can be much past ten or eleven, but I haven't been keeping close track. Early class tomorrow?" Rusalka hesitated. "Um... something like that. I have a curfew, I'm afraid. Have to be in by midnight." "Ah," Temnal said knowledgeably. "Like in the stories." She smiled, a little too brightly. "In the meantime, though, let's enjoy ourselves. Is the Chaosian Candle all right?" "Interesting," Temnal allowed. He took another sip. "And probably potent. You may end up being the one who saves me from falling over," he quipped. Rusalka giggled. "I would be honored," she said, shaking her bright hair from her throat. "I used to drink those when I first came to this place, but I lost too much money on the way home, if you understand me. But I expect you'll handle it much better than I, and if not, I now know where you live." "Yes, at least I had the foresight to tell you that!" Temnal said with a grin. "I suppose it also might have something to do with how many one drinks..." She looked at his drink, then had a thought. "Care to try mine? It's not very alcoholic and it's sweet. Most men don't like them, but if you'd care to..." "I wouldn't mind tasting it," Temnal replied. "What did you call it... 'Darling Deirdre'? I've sometimes wished I could have met her. The Princess of that name, I mean." "Me too. I'll bet she was something," Rusalka agreed, pushing the drink toward Temnal. "This is light -- it's sort of like a mimosa only with blackberry flavor and sorbet. Trade me." Temnal accordingly pushed his glass toward Rusalka, and picked up hers. After sampling it he said, "It is sweet, but I like it. It tingles a bit, doesn't it?" After she'd sampled the Chaosian Candle, which made her cough a little and then smile, she added, "Have you met any of the Princes and Princesses before, Temnal?" "Not to say met," answered Temnal. "I saw the Chancellor speak at the beginning of the semester, of course. And someone pointed out the Princess Flora to me one evening at the theatre. Have you?" he asked her. "I've spoken to Princess Florimel a few times, and once to Prince Gerard, but only to exchange quick pleasantries. Although Papa is an Earl, I'm not nearly important enough to interest the Royal Family, although sometimes girls who graduate as Flowers have an easier time helping with the Princesses' society balls and charitable programs. And of course I've always wanted to actually speak to Prince Benedict and Prince Corwin, but it hasn't been possible or appropriate so far." Rusalka took a breath and sipped her drink again. "Prince Corwin," Temnal said thoughtfully. "Is he still around?" He couldn't help thinking about the Scar, for which Lord Gaynor claimed Corwin was responsible. Something about a curse... "Sometimes, I think. I can't really keep track of the royal family, they seem to disappear and reappear pretty miraculously." Rusalka was feeling the warm relaxation of the drink, and it made her lean across the table and place her hand near to Temnal's. "Say, if you want to come meet one of them sometime I can get you an invitation to the right party. You'll have to stand the snobbery, though." "Really? That could be quite interesting," Temnal responded. "And I think I could handle the snobbery. I have before." Though that was long ago, and in another country... "Even if it's directed at others?" Rusalka's face smoothed for a moment. "That's the hard part. But I won't forget. Next time, I'll see if I can take you." "Thank you," he said, adding with a smile, "I'll try not to embarrass you." She finished her drink and glanced at how much he had left in his. "I wish I knew what time it was." "If you're worried, we can go," Temnal offered, though his glass was still half full. "We, uh, probably should." She bit her lower lip. "I don't want to, but we should. I'll have the bill sent to the Glass House to save trouble. And um, I wasn't worried about you embarrassing me. I was worried about maybe embarrassing you." "I don't embarrass easily," Temnal assured her. He half rose, signaling the waiter. Then he cocked an eyebrow. "The Glass House?" he queried. "Oh, that's what the people call our manor. I mean, the Cardovan Manor, because it's paneled in porcelain. We sell porcelain and liquors mostly so it's sort of free advertisement. I call it that too because saying to send things to 'Cardovan Manor' sounds so pompous." Rusalka told the waiter what she'd told Temnal and gathered up her purse. "I don't really live there during the school year, but on vacations it is good to see Papa and Mama." "I understand that," said Temnal, scooping his parcel off the table and tucking it under his arm. His smile this time was a little wistful. "I write to my family in the Ways of Chanicut every week -- my sister Sekhmet is a good correspondent -- but it's not the same as being home." "You must miss her a lot," Rusalka said. "Could she come and visit you do you think?" "I asked about that," Temnal admitted, his expression shadowing. "But her father won't allow it until she's fulfilled her duty to the House." The final sentence was tinged with bitterness. "Which means just what you probably think it does -- marrying and bearing an heir." "Is your House matrilineal, then?" Temnal shook his head. "House Chanicut isn't -- but the alliance with House Swayvill is important to the family. I'm sure you understand." "My sister Fantina is the oldest, but it's up to Teddy to get the heir for us. I suspect the marrying part is standard for noblewomen. Can your sister marry for love or was her betrothed picked out for her?" "It was an arranged marriage," Temnal replied. "Not as bad as it could have been, she told me -- but it wasn't what she would have chosen for herself." Rusalka started down the steps to the cooler night air. "I'm sorry I ask so many questions." "I don't mind. You're the first person I've been able to talk to who's taken an interest -- who has some understanding of these things." She smiled. "Thank you. I'm very interested. And I'm sorry for your sister. I am afraid that might happen to me, although my Mama doesn't want it to. Why do people take so much interest in who a girl likes and who would be a good match for her anyway? There should be better ways to make alliances, but... I guess blood is thicker than wine and it doesn't burn as well as paper. You said she could visit you after she had an heir -- does that mean after the wedding is consummated and so on it doesn't have to mean that much to her? she wouldn't be stuck with him?" "Define 'stuck'," said Temnal with a half smile. "He won't make her hang up her sword, she told me -- Sekhmet is a Hellmaiden of the Serpent -- but I can't imagine she won't have continuing responsibilities within the House, or that it will be possible for her to advance in the priesthood as she once wanted." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. It's terrible when your dreams are... taken from you," Rusalka smiled apologetically. "It's sort of nice that she won't have to give up everything, though -- you're right, a lot of men wouldn't be so kind. At least, if nobles in Chaos are anything like they are here. My Papa's a good man but if any of us wanted to learn the sword or anything like that he'd have apoplexy." "I suspect nobles everywhere have a lot of the same concerns," Temnal observed. "And the dreams of the younger generation usually aren't one of them. Still..." he went on musingly. "You never know what doors are going to open. At one time I thought my future would be ... something a good deal worse than Sekhmet's. But that didn't happen. It took what you might call a leap of faith... I think sometimes you have to do that." "Yes... I suppose so," Rusalka nodded, turning down the street into the night. "It's not easy, though, you know. At least not for me. I'm not really... religious. I mean, I believe but I don't live my life by those tenets really, I live by... instinct. You know, being nice to people, doing what seems right, or noble or... and it's hard to let go of that control. Was it hard for you, Temnal?" "Hard? I don't know. As hard, maybe, as jumping from a burning building into a river in spate, knowing you may die if you do but you'll surely burn if you don't." She smiled down at her hands. "I had something like that happen to me, too... but in my case it wasn't faith. It was just... survival instinct." "In some cases it may be the same thing," Temnal agreed. "Except for the way it changes your life afterwards. Because once you've given your trust like that, it creates ... a bond." Rusalka nodded. "But a bond with what?... I sometimes wonder," she added lamely. Briskly, brightly, trying to pretend not to be embarrassed, she asked, "Do you, um, want to talk about it?" In response Temnal shook his head, not in negation but as if he was trying to clear it. "I'm sorry, I'm being awfully cryptic, aren't I?" he apologized. "It must be the effects of drink. Or maybe too much poring over alchemical texts that never come right out and say what they mean. Let's just say that I understand about hard choices and leave it at that, shall we?" His smile seemed only a little forced. "All right." Rusalka's responding smile showed she had recovered, and if she noticed his stiffness, she did not show it. "That seems fair enough. The moon's pretty tonight. And... moonlight sort of suits you." His smile now seemed genuine. "Yes, it does," he agreed. "Much more so than the sun does. Have you ever seen," he gestured up at the peak of Kolvir, "the moonlight city?" Rusalka followed his gesture and then looked back at his eyes. "I've seen it, a few times. I've never been up there -- or even close really. They don't let just anyone explore. It fascinates me, though. Have you been up there?" "Oh, no. I suspect the royal family would be even more leery of letting anyone from the Courts anywhere near Tir na Nog'th, despite the betterment of relations in recent years." Temnal looked thoughtful. "I don't even know if it would, well, work for anyone else." "I wonder..." Rusalka looked up at the moon again, her expression thoughtful. She chewed her lower lip. "Then why did you ask?" "Well, because it fascinates me too. That such a thing exists ... if 'exists' is the right word. What it might mean..." "When I was a little girl, Teddy -- my brother -- told me it's where the ghosts tell riddles and pretend to be alive. He used to tell me stories about things that happened up there, but they were just the kind of stories you tell a child. He's never been there either." Rusalka twisted a curl around her index finger. "Have you heard anything real about it?" "What I've heard about it actually agrees pretty closely with what your brother told you," Temnal admitted. "About the riddling ghosts, anyway. For myself, though... I know moonlight reveals things in a different way than sunlight. Obliquely, reflected, but just as true." "I'd like to go up there sometime, but I don't think they'd let us," Rusalka mused. Except for midnight, and I don't want to go then... oh Unicorn, not then... "But I could be your distraction if you want to see it sometime." Temnal looked startled, and then, increasingly, intrigued. "I'll ... think about that," he said slowly. "I suspect it's not something to be done frivolously, but if there was knowledge you needed..." By this time they were almost to the gates of the University. "Well, I'm at Lily House," Rusalka said, gesturing to her left. "So we're about to part ways, I guess. I hope I'll see you around?" Temnal nodded. "I hope so. I'll see you to your dorm, just to make sure nobody progs you for being out unescorted." "Okay." Rusalka smiled and began walking again. "I'm glad of the company. And it's a secret, but I sometimes like to make the more awful girls jealous." Her escort cocked an eyebrow. "Jealous? And why should it have to be a secret?" he asked her. "They'd be jealous of me because... well, you know you're really good-looking, right? And I don't like to say things like that, because it's not very nice. My mother always wanted me to be particularly nice to people it was harder to like. She said they probably just weren't raised right." Temnal thought this over for a minute, then said, "You do know that in Chaos, a lot of the people are shapeshifters, yes? So outward form is ... well, not discounted, but tends to be regarded differently. I don't know if that counts as 'being raised right' or not." "Shapeshifters, really?" Rusalka turned her big green eyes back to Temnal. "That's brilliant! I wish I could look like whatever I wanted. Do you shapeshift, Temnal?" He shook his head. "I don't have the ability. So yes, I was born this way," he added with a half-smile. "Not a bad way to be born," said Rusalka with the easy smile of someone well aware they were also blessed in the looks department. "Is it something you can train, then? The shapeshifting? Or is it something you're born either able to or not able to?" "Most native Chaosians have at least the potential," Temnal replied. "Because of the nature of Chaos itself, they evolved that way. But like so many other things, you don't get really good at it without training. It's like, oh, musical ability. Either you have the ear for it or you don't, but you're not going to become a professional-quality singer if you don't practice." "Like most things, then," Rusalka smiled. "It would be amazing, though, to be able to do that. But you know, I like the way I look okay, so," she shrugged. "And I hope you do too." "I do," he answered, and Rusalka could tell by the tone of his voice that he meant it. At the same time she could not detect one iota of flirtatiousness. Rusalka had been flirted with enough times to know what that sounded like, and this wasn't it. It could have been one of her girlfriends saying "You look fabulous!" -- but with, again, no trace of the undercurrent of envy that she might hear from a woman. But now they were at the entrance to Lily House. Despite the honesty and lack of flirtation in his voice, Rusalka blushed. "Oh, I mean... I meant hope you like the way you look..." She shoved a hand into her thick hair. "I'm ... never mind. Thank you. Looks like we're here." "Yes." Temnal bowed a farewell. "Have a quiet night," he said with a smile. "And you have a pleasant one! Thank you!" Rusalka called as she hurried up the steps. She turned near the entrance and waved again before disappearing. |
