The Tale of David the Dimwitted was, by far, the greatest piece of fiction I had ever read. Never had I laughed so hard. David, the main character, was so ridiculously moronic that he made Dim look like a great sage. Somehow, on a drunken night, he bedded a goat, mistaking it for a hairy woman.
In another tale, he joined a war against Ferosia only to stub his toe, trip, and knock himself out in the opening battle. And so the story went, following tale after tale of his idiocy, ultimately culminating in him somehow marrying a princess after accidentally running over a visiting noble with his horse. Turns out that Noble looked exactly like him, so he put on his clothes and pretended to be him for the rest of his life.
I was in Beth's reading room, enjoying a glass of wine while I read her favorite comedy. It was a comfortable space with bookshelves lining the walls and chairs with soft cushions. She was reading her novel in a chair opposite me. It had been a few weeks since that dinner, and I had become closer to both her and Darion over time. I didn't even bother to buy books anymore since Beth had such a large collection. I flipped to the last page and read the single line of text.
[Based on The True Tale of David Arlean.]
"Lies," I shouted indignantly. I couldn't believe such a ridiculous person was real.
Beth laughed, "I had the same reaction. But yes, David was a real man. This tale was based on an autobiography found after his death."
Laughter escaped my throat once again as I lay back down into the chair, recalling his many adventures.
"His entire legacy is built on him being a moron," I said.
"Perhaps, but his story hasn't been forgotten even though he has lain dead for 150 years."
I remained silent for a few moments, contemplating her words before I spoke, "Would it not be better to be remembered as King consort and not a fool?"
Beth considered my words and shrugged, "Perhaps he was tired of lying or simply wanted people to remember his true self."
I sank deeper into the chair, enjoying the softness of the cushions, "I'd prefer not to be remembered as dimwitted, thank you very much."
"How would you like to be remembered then?"
"Don't know if I care that much about being remembered," I said flippantly.
"Most people don't, it's hard to think about what happens in the years after your death when you're young. But the older you get, the more significant the future becomes."
I mumbled to myself as I absorbed her words, "That's an odd thing. I only think about the now, or at best, a few months in advance. You would think it would be the opposite since old people have less of a future."
"Youth is meant to be enjoyed, Myr. How can you enjoy it if all you think about is the future? With 28 summers under my belt, I find that I constantly think about the future at the expense of now. "
Shaking my head, I mused, "Then I shall endeavor to never age, so I can forever live in the now and ignore tomorrow."
Beth laughed, "Feel free to throw some of that immortality my way. I can do a lot with a few more decades."
Gazing at the sun, I guessed it would be another hour before midday.
"I should get ready, Yarah and I have plans."
"Ah, yes, your weekly salon visits. Do enjoy yourself and bring a coat, it's going to be a winter year." Beth said.
With a nod and a pep in my step, I walked out of their abode into my room. It was much the same except for a new feather bed, cotton pillow, thick woolen sheets, and an armoire against the right wall. I had a dozen dresses, half of them being gifts from Beth and Darion, and one from Yarah. I sold my bridal band and bought a nice pair of silver earrings. I paused as I saw my dagger sitting at the bottom among my shoes. I had stopped carrying it at some point.
Most women had earrings, and Yarah finally convinced me to get mine pierced. It was quite unpleasant, and they were still healing, but even I had to admit it did add to my looks.
I put on a deep blue dress and set out to enjoy the day.
~
Yarah and I stepped out of the salon arm in arm, walking along the street. It was a beautiful day, slightly chilly with not a cloud in the sky. Yarah, of course, looked lovely in her dark green dress. Drawing more attention than I ever could. Today was more than just a day at the salon. In the main square in the middle quarter was a circus. A massive train of stage coaches had entered the city. Apparently, it was something the baron arranged. All around were performers, everything from acrobats, jesters in costume, bards singing and telling stories.
"Oh my, let's look and see the fire spitter," Yarah yelled and pointed.
"Fire spitter?" I asked and looked where she was pointing. We walked over, joining the crowd of gathered people. A woman held a flaming torch in one hand and had a bottle of clear liquid in the other. After raking a sip, she blew into the flame, creating a stream of fire. Over and over, she spat flames into the air like a dragon. The flame, growing in size each time until he made a final blast that extended high into the air as tall as she was.
Then she bowed, and the crowd roared in applause. From out of nowhere, she brought out a hat, and people fought to toss coins inside.
I added a few bits of my own before Yarah was pulling me along to look at another performance, but I was momentarily stuck staring at the woman. Something about her was clawing the back of my mind. How she controlled the fire was fascinating. The fear in the crowd as she blew it over their head was interesting.
"Come on, we'll miss the play," Yarah said. With one last glance at the fire-breathing woman, I walked away feeling oddly annoyed.
As we headed back to the stagecoaches, I saw a lioness in a cage, a fearsome creature I’d only ever seen drawings of. How sad it was that it couldn’t run and hunt free. Those claws and fangs cannot break through iron bars, so it sat trapped until it either died of old age or starved itself.
‘I understand you, great hunter. I think I'm trapped as well.’
~
The play was as boring as I thought it would be. The same cliché of a heroic prince saving the princess from some evil lord. Men cheered as the demon king was struck down, and women swooned as the man stole a kiss from his beloved. It was inane, and even now I found it boring.
"Quite, the performance wasn't it?" Yarah said as we shared a meal at a cafe.
"I suppose," I mumbled, not paying attention.
"Something wrong?" She asked.
"I'm not sure it's just...." I couldn't put my finger on it. I felt uncomfortable, as if I were walking around with a rock in my shoe.
"Moonflow?" She asked.
I shook my head, "No, it passed a few days ago. Have you ever had that feeling, like you left the candle burning at home?"
Yarah focused her green eyes on me, "I suppose. Do you feel like you forgot something?"
"Somewhat," I shook my head again and sighed, "Never mind, let's just enjoy our meal."
"Alright, but if you want to talk about something, I'll listen."
"Appreciated," I mumbled.
"Oh, in other news, I think I'll open a general store in the middle quarter. There isn't one, and I always found walking around to half a dozen stores for supplies bothersome." Yarah explained.
I did recall it being a problem finding simple things in the vast market. It shouldn't take an hour to find good flint and steel.
"That's...... Not a bad idea. Household necessities are annoying to track down in the markets."
Yarah gave me a beautiful smile, glad that I agreed with her.
"Wait, then what about your position as head maid-servant?"I asked.
She gave me a knowing look, "I think it should go to you. You're too young now, but I think Darion and Beth would be open to it. Hell, they might give you an even more permanent position."
I gave her a raised eyebrow in response to the cryptic words. She smiled as if I was missing the obvious. "I don't know your full story, but I can tell there is pain there. But Beth and Darion do correct."
I nodded, "Yes, Beth saw through me immediately."
I had given Yarah a summary of my childhood about a month ago, though not as detailed as it was with Beth. She didn't seem willing to pry any deeper.
"And yet you remain. Now, did you also know that not a single member of the staff has ever been in their personal living space?" Yarah said.
That was surprising, "No, I didn't."
"How many times have you been?"
"Many times over the last few weeks, dinners, breaking our fast. They frequently invite me. What are you getting at?"
Yarah laughed as if I was missing the obvious, "They don't have a child, Myr. No one to take ownership of Darion's Dish after their passing. What if, in a few years, they ask to adopt you as their child? Legally speaking, it's the only way to pass it on to someone they desire. Lest it falls back to Beth's family, and I know she despises them. Darion only has distant cousins whom he barely knows."
"I-I don't know," I said, mildly panicked.
"Want my advice?"
I looked at her green eyes and nodded. "When asked, say yes. You've had a rough life, Myr. I think you deserve some happiness. Even more so, Darion's Dish is growing even more popular. You can secure a good future for yourself and your children."
I didn't answer, too trapped in the whirlwind of my mind. A warm, happy home free from problems in a safe city. What fool would give that up? Another thought struck me. I haven't even tried to figure out anything new about magic in weeks.
Work kept me occupied, and when I wasn't working, I had Hewit Yarah, Beth, and Darion as company. I considered whether I should abandon magic. It was a fool's endeavor to begin with. Did I really think that a magus would take me as an apprentice, or that I would become some powerful magus like the stories? Were all those aspirations just a coping mechanism for an unloved child? Perhaps it was time I grew up and left the past buried.
Something inside me was dying again; the flame within was but embers now, and all it would take was one more push to permanently extinguish the flame.
"I think you have a point, Yarah. Perhaps I should think about what's best for me in the long run." I said.
With a thought, I snuffed out the last embers.
Eight Months later:
"What do you think, Yarah? Too Ferosian?" I asked.
The black dress clinging to my body accentuated my developing curves. The gloves went all the way up to the middle of my biceps, and the heel boots made me an inch taller than usual. My gaunt form was a thing of the past, and to my shame or pride, I couldn't decide which, the low-cut dress showed off a small amount of cleavage. I grew a bit more, though it was likely due to my not being painfully thin. I think I'd be satisfied with enough for a handful, nothing too large like the women at the brothel or Yarah.
"I say this without any falsehood, you look lovely. The offer's still on the table." Yarah teased.
"I'm not marrying your brother," I said flatly.
"But we would be family," She complained, sounding like a child. The idea of marrying, even worse, bedding a man was repulsive. Why women jump into it, only the goddess knows.
I looked down at her from Lydia's platform, trying not to stare at her chest. She was husband-hunting tonight and was showing off quite a bit. The mahogany red silk dress clung to her; Lydia's work was, as always, impressive. The shiny fabric caught the light, making her impressive figure even more noticeable. Even when I fully blossomed into womanhood, I doubted I would ever have curves like Yarah's. Before I started imagining what it would be like to run my hands along her hips, I refocused on the day ahead.
Tonight, Darion and Beth were throwing a celebration party. What for, I didn't know, but it was to be announced. Most figured they were celebrating the smashing success they had had with the eatery. In the end, it didn't matter; free food was always welcome, regardless of the occasion.
I stared at myself in the mirror once more. The woman staring back at me could be called pretty. Not breathtaking by any measure. But so much black clothing on pale skin was quite eye-catching. Perhaps I was becoming vain.
But again, I felt like something was missing. I've been feeling it for months. The life I lived was as good as any non-noble could ask for. No matter how much I tried to ignore it. There was constant tension within me; it stank of regret and, somehow, betrayal. I forced it out of my mind again, hoping that it would stay buried this time.
~
The party was in full swing, men and women danced while a group of bards played songs I didn't recognize. There was the staff, of course, cooks, maidservants, everyone who made Darion's Dish successful was present. Other family members and dates were accompanying the workers. The tables were rearranged to make space for the dancefloor. Most were moved to the right and topped with a large amount of finger food.
Yarah was dancing with a handsome man I didn't recognize, while the hosts had yet to make their appearance. I stood off to one side with a tray filled with sugary pastries. Completely uninterested in dancing, I watched as Hewit walked in, arm in arm with a woman dressed so seductively that I nearly choked on my blueberry tart.
It was Darla, the whore from so long ago. I could barely recognize her since her hair was done nobly. All eyes were focused on her, yet she remained unmoved. Made sense that a whore wouldn't flinch with a dozen men staring at her like she was meat. Many of the men, however, brought their dates and weren't stupid enough to stare for too long. I wasn't exactly interested in mingling with the group of people, so I remained on the edges.
There was a pause, then a burst of celebration. After nearly a minute of congratulations and well wishes, Darion continued, "But this celebration is not just for our good fortune. It is also for you, the hard workers who helped us make Darion's dish into the success that it is. So eat, drink, and be merry for tonight we all celebrate."
Eventually, I was able to reach Beth through the constant barrage of congratulations. "Congratulations, Beth," I said, pulling her into a hug. I was genuinely pleased for her and for some reason relieved.
"Thank you, dear, it came as quite a surprise to me."
"I'm glad for you, Beth, if anyone deserves happiness, it's you," I said, smiling.
"This pregnancy. It has given me some thought. And while Devon and I have decided to wait until you're more acclimated, with Yarah leaving us to pursue her dream of owning a business, I knew I had to act now."
"What is it?” I asked.
"Your family. You care nothing for them, and I doubt they care much for you. However, I have seen the woman you are, Myr. Darion and this child will be all I have left in the world. However, over time, you pop into my mind when I think of my family. What I'm saying is, Myr, both Darion and I would like you to be a part of our family. It's only been ten months, and even Darion can't stop mentioning how good an older sister you would be for our new child."
I felt lightheaded. Is this what they meant by the blessing of Anier? I looked at Beth, her warm smile filled with kindness. Then I looked at the partygoers dancing and singing without a care in the world. Just as I was about to say yes, since deep down I hoped they would ask me this very question, I paused. Bile rose in my throat again, and I felt the heat crawling up my spine once more. The words refused to escape my throat. Something deep, something powerful was holding them back.
Beth smiled in understanding. “It’s alright, dear, this is a lot to drop on a person so suddenly. Take your time. Months, if necessary to think about it, such things cannot be rushed or forced."
I nodded wordlessly. Beth moved in for a hug. I couldn't stop myself from reciprocating. "Enjoy the party, dear, sorry about springing this on you so suddenly.”
I couldn't think about the party anymore. I needed fresh air, so I made for the door.
~
I stood staring at the ground for almost half an hour. My mind was a whirlwind of doubt and self-loathing. Every happiness denied to me, I could have, if I simply said, 'Yes, I would be your daughter.' I could live a life that many of the poor and desperate could only dream of. I still remember the men and women from the caravan, selling themselves and their pride for nothing but scraps of food. How many would gladly murder me for even the smallest taste of what I enjoyed? But still, in my ingratitude, I hesitated to accept. I looked up at the sky, wondering if it was Anier's blessing. Was the goddess real? Did she take pity on me? I looked down at hands that were once callused, now soft with manicured nails and covered by silk gloves. Even Aalis would envy me.
"A bit for your thoughts," Hewit said.
I was so focused that I didn't hear him approach.
"Just thinking about my future."
I considered asking him about Darla, but she and my strange preferences mattered little at the moment.
"You're much too young to be worrying about such a thing. Enjoy the party, the future always comes, no point in worrying about it.
"Aye, I'd like to knock a few pints back to be honest."
Hewitt laughed, "Now that's the spirit. I have a strong brandy I wanted you to…Oh my, she arrived early."
I looked up at Hewit, confused. Following his eyes, I spotted over a dozen carriages. Pulled by magnificent black stallions. They were surrounded by guards in full plate.
"What's the commotion? Someone important?" I nodded to the passing group of people.
"Aye, the baron's daughter was due to arrive in a week, not today. Apparently, she's a candidate and is going to apprentice under Lady Elis."
"Really? How do you know that?" I asked.
"Brother's a guard. He was informed of their arrival, quite the gossip he is. They're even looking for handmaidens. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but the baron's worried there would be spies from her mother, so he's put out word to his supporters for potential women."
My heart raced as I considered the possibilities. Warmth spread from my chest through my body as if I had taken a large draft of brandy. Time seemed to slow. The fire I thought dead for months, sparked back to life.
‘Needs a handmaiden....’
‘Will be a magus’s Apprentice.....’
‘Chooses from Loyal supporters....’
‘Darion saved the baron's life....’
‘This is your chance! This is what you were waiting for. Everything is in place; you need but to reach out and grab it. Don't be fooled by the comfort, you think that love and happiness from Beth and Darion are blessings from Anier? LIES, IT IS A CURSE. She wants to take what is rightfully yours. Look how close you came to forgetting why you are here. March forward, always forward, Myr. Magic requires sacrifice.’
My mind whirled with the possibilities that had just arrived from this simple, seemingly insignificant conversation. I stared up at the evening sky.
‘Are you there, Anier? Was this home all meant for me? Did you see what I would become and devise the perfect trap? Who am I kidding? You don't exist. I'm speaking to no one. Either way, two paths are in front of me: remain with Darion and Beth, guaranteeing that I would live a happy life, or throw it all away and plunge into the depths of uncertainty, hoping that in its bottomless pit I would find treasure.’