Though she had spoken to Madeira about this before, Autumn was pretty sure this wasn’t the plan. Still, some time had passed since their last discussion on how to make Autumn more useful to the both of them, and they hadn’t pursued anything yet. This might not have been what Madeira had in mind, but Autumn’s purpose was two-fold. She’d be of more use to both of them this way, but the more she knew about spiritism, the better she could defend herself from Madeira whenever the spiritist’s intentions became… opposed to her own.
This was why Autumn had snuck into the Dusk Tower the evening before, clutching one of her gems of Borrowed Life to her chest. She had learned some names while she had. The Dusks were the ones in charge. Ald’gare seemed to be the head, but a lovely young woman by the name of Chiona was his daughter and one of their most sought-after teachers. There were others, but they were all less important.
So she had waited through the night for class to begin anew, and eventually, the students- and teachers- began to arrive. As soon as she saw Madeira coming, Autumn ingested her gem; she didn’t want the spiritist knowing she was here, not yet. The return to life was a sensation she didn’t think she’d ever get used to. There was a sense of imbalance at the sudden return of weight to her body, and a flood of the intricate, exquisite senses of life returning to nerves as they sprang to life. Too many ticks passed by before she could remember how to breathe, and by the time she did, the class was already in session. Pressing her ear to the door, Autumn heard Madeira giving instructions.
“Is that everyone?”
Not quite, but Autumn didn’t want to interrupt Madeira. She was already uncertain as to how cold of a reception she would garner for herself for showing up uninvited. To make it as goo as possible, she would wait for a lull in activity.
“Good. Through a raiding of my own pantry and the generous donation of the Dusk kitchen, we've got a wide spread to use today. You're all familiar with how to make soulmist; the basic recipe of three ingredients of different sources. But! There is a wide variety of customization to it.”
Mist! This was exactly what had brought Autumn here in the first place. When she was living, just before she had died, she had learned the art of making mist, but when she had tried while she was living last season, her efforts had been unproductive. If there was anyone who could direct her to do it again, it was Madeira Craven.
“What works best for each spiritist can vary wildly from one person to the next. So today I will have you experiment with different ingredients to find out what works best for you.”
If Autumn wasn’t mistaken, Madeira almost sounded excited, giddy even, to share the knowledge she had become a master of. “So, one at a time, come to the front and collect what interests you."
That seemed as good of a time as any. It was practically an invitation. Autumn opened the door as quietly as she could, but it wasn’t enough. Madeira was standing right there next to the door, and every head turned to look at the newcomer.
Autumn gave them a bashful smile. She had to admit she liked the way a smile felt on her lips, the way living tissue stretching into a smile felt beneath her skin, on her skin. “Sorry I’m late.” Bobbing a quick curtsey to Madeira as way of an apology, she introduced herself awkwardly. “Miss Craven? I’m your new student. Autumn. Sorry again for being late. I was a teacher once, and I understand the frustrations tardiness causes. It just feels like a lifetime since I’ve been in Lhavit.”
The eyes on her seemed heavy with judgment, so she curtseyed once more. “I’ll stop talking and wasting everyone’s time now. I believe someone was about to choose the makings for their dough.”
Gesturing politely to let one of Madeira’s regular students go first, Autumn skirted around the group until she was standing next to Ald’gare, Chiona on his other side. She nodded as politely as she could. “Mr. Dusk, it’s an honor.”
“Who’s this?” a voice from Ald’gare’s shoulder piped up.
Autumn had missed the third entity in the Dusk trio, but now that she saw the fluid being hovering over the man, the once-ghost could do nothing but stare.
“It’s impolite to stare,” Ald’gare chastised her before introducing her to the creature. “This is Autumn. She just introduced herself. Do try to pay attention.”
“Who are you?” Autumn asked the floating, crystalline cloud of water on the Dusk patriarch’s shoulder.
“This is my familiar, a Sarawanki.”
“I didn’t ask what. I said who.”
The cloud burst into crystalline laughter. Its voice had a pitch and intonation that hovered somewhere between feminine and masculine, an indeterminant thing, though perhaps it didn’t exist with any identity in that sense. “I think I like her.”
“Hmm” was Ald’gare’s only response as he considered Autumn for several moments. His eyes narrowed as if he remembered something, and Autumn had to wonder if she had crossed paths with the man. One place she knew she’d never seen him was the Red Lantern, and that was where she spent most of her time. Bit there was the occasional jaunts around the city. Recognition almost seemed to be surfacing, so Autumn interrupted his searching.
Tilting her head, she smiled. “I thought it was impolite to stare.”
The cloud laughed again. “Oh, I definitely like her. I’m Popa.”
Popa began to banter, and whatever hint of familiarity that was in Ald’gare’s eyes before was gone. For now, for a short while, Autumn’s secret was safe. It didn’t take long for though for the three of them to be the last ones left. Once again, Autumn offered to let the Dusks go first, if they were participating in the lesson, but eventually, it was her turn.
Wandering up to the table, she flashed Madeira a smile as she approached. It wasn’t a cruel smile, gloating and conniving. Instead, it was a warm smile, the kind that said she was here to learn and not to cause mischief.
Autumn’s blue eyes perused what was left. There was a bowl of flour, the source of which she wasn’t cultured enough to determine, but that had always been the base for her dough. She took that and placed a collection of eggs on top of her mound of flour. The jar of honey had already been claimed, but she was certain if she asked she could use some. There were other things she found interesting, like the dandelions and a couple other flowers, and sitting tucked between several remaining ingredients were two small bottles. Popping the corks, she found one to be vanilla and the other, liquor. Recorking them both and putting them in with her other ingredients, she set them down on a desk and looked to Madeira for instruction.
