An Exchange of Arts (Celeste)

[Kit Rowan]

Day 21, Season of Summer, 509 AV

Kit found her steps light as she moved through the streets of Alvadas, buoyed by cheer and the promise of companionship. She waltzed through the city, let it take her over bridges that spanned rushing ranbows and azure specs of light that dipped and dove through the air like fireflies, parting as Kit passed them by and closing back behind her. She had half a mind to chase them, try to catch a bit of the false light in her hand, but Kit was in something of a hurry. Celeste was waiting, somewhere! Technically, Kit thought she might have been late already. Alvadas was keen on taking her sightseeing; there was nothing to do about it but keep walking and wait.

Eventually her walk took her to a little pack of houses, and as she walked into them they seemed to stretch upward with every turn, until Kit could see nothing but great labyrinthine walls of masonry and the blue flickering lights that hovered in the air were the only lights that Kit could count on. In spite of herself, Kit felt exasperation mounting. "Come on Ionu, Alvadas . . ." She crossed her arm and stared up. "I wanna meet a friend. Can you take me there? It's important." If either heard her, they felt no need to answer back.

But it only took two turns for her to find her destination, so she put her hands together and mouthed a silent thank you to god and city both.

It was a little house, squat and square with windows blocked off by curtains. Kit saw a lovely woven quilt hung over the door as decoration; "Let us reach the sky." She brushed off her skirt, straightened her blouse and marched up to the door. Nock-nick went her knuckles on the door. "Hello? My name is Kit." Nick-nock. "I'm Celeste's friend. I was supposed to be coming over? Sorry if I'm late, the city kept me busy." Nock-nock. ". . . Hello?"

[Celeste Arumen]

”Child, did you invite someone over?”

Celeste had been carrying insurating flasks up and down the stairs all day, hands shaking with each trip, terrified she’d drop one. ”Yes, Grams, we talked about this,” she called, pressing the flask to her chest while traveling across the room. The old woman seemed flustered. ”Don’t you patronize me,” she said, but her voice grew softer. Grams wasn’t exactly a delicate woman, but as a general, she was mostly fair.

Mostly.

The door flew open and she’d find the old woman smoothing one hand down the front of her apron. She was thick hipped and stout, draped in piles upon piles of clothing. Her face was deeply lined and serious, though there was a merry twinkle in her eyes. She gestured for Kit to come in, though she said nothing, except:

”Celeste, grab that lemonade out of the icebox. And don’t forget to double check those flasks! Four to a windowsill! Without light, they'll become diluted and we’ll have to start all over again.”

The young woman visibly groaned as she came into sight. Celeste was wearing a long apron that covered her entirely from neck to toe; it was clearly designed for a woman at least twice her size. She smiled and undid the tie, allowing it to flutter to the ground before she excitedly gestured Kit onward.

”Follow me,” she said, rummaging in the nearby chest for the aforementioned lemonade. ”We can maybe sit outside.’”

The backyard was a wonderland for those fond of growth. Every kind of plant flourished – even those that looked impossible for the climate grew tall, limbs straining toward the sky. The whole place looked like a giant garden, except for the little area on which they now stood, where two rickety wooden chairs sat in the shade.

”Welcome to my place,” she said with a smile. ”It may be falling apart, but it’s my home.” Not that it seemed to bother her. If anything, Celeste seemed proud.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit had expected Celeste's Gram to at least talk at her; it was a little strange. The woman never once spoke to Kit . . . Didn't ask a question, didn't interrogate her. Instead Kit found herself allowed inside on tentative steps, stepping around a haphazard arrangement of furniture and bits of skewed art. It was a controlled mess, perfectly ordered for those who partook in its making made it and incomprehensible for those who did not.

Kit reached back and grabbed at her wrist behind her back, nerves getting the best of her until she say Celeste and gave her a feeble little smile. They made them way to the other end of the house and out another door. Kit stepped into the yard, raising a hand over her eyes and found herself assailed by curious smells as her nostrils picked up the various herbs and ingredients left to grow outside. "You've a backyard!" Kit said, whistling in slow appreciation.

"I think it's very nice," Kit said diplomatically, accepting a glass of lemonade and taking a quick drink. The tang was potent on her tongue, and Kit found herself looking around the garden, taking in the vast variety of plants. Kit had expected to find things a bit more . . . menacing? The evidence of the wizard's lifestyle was everywhere, but . . . Well, Kit supposed that there may have been more wizards like her father, who kept their neurosis hidden under shrouds of seeming normalcy.

Perhpas this Grams simply . . . Wasn't insane at all? Too quick to judge, much too quick to judge. "I don't think I've ever seen so many plants in one place, ever." Kit marveled. "I knew you philtered, but I didn't think there'd be so many! Do you help keep them?"

[Celeste Arumen]

”I know!” She exclaimed. ”It’s really lucky; most of the other houses don’t have any space at all.” Celeste was a lucky sort of girl. ”We grow almost everything under the sun alright,” she agreed, taking a quick sip of lemonade herself. The taste was smooth and tart in equal measures and she sighed. Grams must be rewarding her for having an actual social life.

”I’m surprised Grams let me have you over,” she continued aloud. ”Though I’ve never asked before. Perhaps she was worried I only ran with criminals.” And to that, she grinned wryly – they were criminals, but other people would never know them as such. ”Anyway, yeah, I help tend to them. I blunder a lot, but it’s good practice. You never know when you’re going to need the skill.”

Life was funny that way. You never really knew when you’d need something, but it always seemed to come in handy. ”And don’t mind the old lady. She’s a serious sort of person, for the most part. She won’t bother us, so long as we keep it down.” The old woman treated Celeste like an independent. Of course, it didn’t strike her as odd. It was just the way things had always been.

”So how are you?” She asked congenially. It was so novel, having a friend. ”What would you like to do today?” She toyed with the ends of her hair.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well . . . I guess I've gotta be a good influence on you, then." Kit smirked and gave Celeste a little tweak on the nose with her thumb. If her Grams expected Kit's friendship to somehow tame little Celeste's criminal instinct, then she was quite sorely mistaken. If anything, Kit expected the pair to foster it in each other. It had been a long time since Kit had a reason to practice her larceny; there just hadn't been a reason. But now . . . Maybe she was finding one again. "I don't. She seems real interesting." More than that Kit could not say. She had barely met the woman.

Still, she was woefully inexperienced in . . . This. Kit had so rarely actually gone over to someone else's house. "I'm keen," Kit said. For a long moment Kit found herself at a loss for what to do; were she still in Rechail's gang her first instinct would be to bluster, puff out her chest and assert herself. Were she working under Darilava and Whet she would keep her head down and do what she was asked. This thing she had with Celeste was a different sort of friendship with rules she did not quite understand.

Celeste was the younger, so that told Kit that she was to be the assertive one, the leader, but she was also the one who bore Ionu's mark, and that meant something else, didn't it . . . ? But as of yet Celeste hadn't taken offence of Kit playing the navigator for their new friendship, and until she did, Kit wasn't about to leave the wheel. "I was thinking maybe we could start sharing. We know what we can do, sure, but how about how we do it. I can try to teach you how to see auras, and I dunno, maybe you could show me how to shapechange?" It seemed an art very close to Ionu, who wore a new skin every time they showed their face, and Kit was eager to follow a bit more closely in their footsteps. "How about it?"

[Celeste Arumen]

The little girl giggled in kind, wrinkling her nose. ”I’ll say,” she replied, feeling strangely warm and light. Never before had she such a sense of camaraderie. She swung her legs in a distinctly childish manner, wondering quietly how she got quite so lucky. In certain ways, Celeste lived a charmed life. Perhaps not a normal life but even so, she had good fortune sometimes and mostly when she needed it most.

Perhaps she really, truly had needed a friend.

She studied the girl’s sharp features. They were angular and yet in some places, so delicate, like right around the ridges of her eyes. Celeste was strangely enraptured, just by staring at her face. Perhaps with some time she’d be able to emulate the other girl totally, much like she had with Daisy. That way there’d always be a part of Kit that stayed within.

”I’m keen,” she echoed with a grin, using the power of her mark to emulate the other girl’s voice. She was feeling quite silly, given that she’d never really hung around with a friend before. Still, not wanting to overdo it, she shut the power off, focusing on planning their afternoon instead.

”Which should we do first? Would you like me to teach you how to change yourself, or would you want to teach me, first?” She paused, considering how to phrase it. ”Which would you be more comfortable with?” Ah, that was what she wanted. Celeste wanted her new friend to be above all else, comfortable. So she’d stick around.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit couldn't help but smile as the younger girl stole Kit's sounds. Gods, they were such a pair of girls, practically giggling together. Rechail's gang had been made hard and unyielding, with little room for laughter. Celeste was a sharp contrast to them, spared so far the fierce skirmishes of child against child. If the gang saw her now, sitting in a garden with lemonade in hand, they would be aghast. Excepting maybe Nim.

If Celeste was going to let her take the lead . . . She had a responsibility, didn't she? Rechail had been hard, but she'd earned loyalty with her own. Even Darilava had always given aid with his criticism. If Kit was going to take the lead, she needed to be the one who gave first. Who let Celeste know she was willing. Kit breathed in, massaged at her legs and breathed out. "I think I'll go first," she said. "I mean, I'll try to share first."

Kit left her lemonade down, closed her eyes tight and tried to remember what her father had told her when he described auristics properly. He had done it afterward, but Kit wanted Celeste walking into it with both eyes open wide. Kit rubbed her palms together and fell back into one of the chairs. "Everything in the world had djed, you know? It makes up everything. Stones and animals and people and gods. And that djed gives off an aura."

"An aurist can read auras." Kit looked to Celeste, made an Inverted Triangle over her chest and turned her attention to the younger girl's aura. It flared up, still enough to make Kit wince, but now she had the time to take an extended look at Celeste without distraction. Her aura glowed . . . It was . . . Playing in the streets with the hot sun on her back. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but the best Kit could gather from that was that Celeste was having a good day, and she already knew that.

Kit shook her head and let the magic dissipate, her friend's aura fleeing from her mind like a flower turned to ash in her hand. "It's not super obvious, but when you're getting started you'll probably need gestures . . . Papa used incantations instead, I think, but they never worked for me." Kit traced another inverted triangle over her heart, this time in demonstration. "This is mine."

"Papa gave me a rock . . ." Kit looked around, got up and plucked afallen flower from the ground and held it out to Celeste. ". . . And he told me to feel it. Got me to touch it. Feel it. Listen to the sounds it made." She scrunched up her face. "Taste it too, but maybe we can skip that. Just wanted me to experience it, completely, and focus. Trying to find the aura that fell over it all. Does that make sense?" Kit sounded dubious herself, and she was the one who had said it.

[Celeste Arumen]

She listened to the lilting tune of Kit’s voice intently. Everything gave off an aura. This she knew. But then, how to taste it, feel it? How to sense it all? Even Celeste seemed a little dubious, at that. But she desperately wanted to learn and vowed silently to at least try. ”Well,” she began, considering her counterpart’s words. ”Perhaps it’s like morphing, but inside out.” She paused to explain. ”When you go to morph a part of yourself, you have to look inside and actually perceive your own djed. You have to sort of conjure a visual, if that makes sense. Maybe if I try to sense your djed, it might work.”

Also, her experience with Hypnotism helped. With that, you had to sort of sense where the person’s energy was, though not necessarily anything more than that. So quietly, the girl closed her eyes and emulated Kit’s sign, drawing the triangle like a sacred prayer. She tried to really see her personal sphere and all the colors within, much like the radiant overflowing phial of her own djed.

When she next opened her eyes, she’d found that regrettably, she had some measure of success.

Her head throbbed with impunity. An incomprehensible blur of color and sound overwhelmed her almost immediately, impossible to truly discern. Instinctually she squeezed her eyes shut and brought both hands to her head hiding from the sudden sensory overload. It was murder, for just a brief second. ”Gods,” she croaked, thinking of Ionu. He’d certainly be laughing at her, right about now.

”Well, I think I know what you mean,” she said after a time. ”But how on Mizahar are you supposed to sort it all out? It seemed to do more harm than good, but then again it was the very first time I tried it.” Suddenly, a horrible reality dawned on her. ”Maybe I did it wrong or something.”

She likely did. Perhaps trying to look to their djed was just far, far too much. Maybe she should just analyze the surface, like skimming a book, only consciously becoming aware of the words after her eyesight had already been redirected. ”I think I looked too deeply,” she declared at last.

”Maybe I really should start with a rock,” she said with a smile of resignation.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit frowned, let the flower drop the the ground and rubbed anxiously at her arms while Celeste mimicked her gesture. She had invented that on the spot, at her father's prompting, to help her better conceptualize. She picked the triangle cause she thought being able sense things like this would suit Ionu's fancy, but now it was Celeste's symbol too. Perhaps she would carry it with her now? The thought turned the corner's of Kit's hand upward, suddenly happy.

Startlingly, Celeste seemed to fall into the magic right away, with just an exercise of focus. Her reaction to Kit's aura was painfully familiar, and when the younger girl shut her eyes Kit rushed protectively to her side, ready to grab hold of Celeste if she fell. All the same, the girl seemed made of sterner stuff, and though she staggered and groaned the little sorceress stayed upright still. Kit felt a sudden surge of affection, reached up and tousled Celeste's hair. "Nah, you're doing good. The first time I tried to read my Papa's aura I was babbling nonsense for a week, and I had practice then." What a talented little flower Kit had stumbled across! She felt a momentary pang of jealousy; learning had taken her much longer.

"At first, all I could really do was look, and try to pick things out that made sense to you. You can't read it all at once or you'll go batty. But you can pick out little pieces and try to make sense of that." It was the only way Kit could look at a person without breaking her mind into pieces. "I learned to do it by tasting food in the Bizarre from yards away, through their aura. More interesting than rocks."

She put a hand on Celeste's shoulder and peered into her eyes, concerned. "You alright in there? Not shaken up too bad? Want a bit of rest?" She fussed, watching close for signs of strain.

[Celeste Arumen]

She cradled her head for a moment longer. ”I’m okay,” she replied, eyes finding their focus. ”I’m a little tired, but I’ll be alright.” It’d taken a surge of effort, one greater than she’d first supposed. Then again, she was learning this discipline for the very first time. Celeste stretched fitfully and nodded. ”I think I’ll be okay to try again, maybe in a few minutes. In the meantime, I think I can show you something, too.”

In part, it was intended as a magnanimous gesture and in part, it was to help Celeste feel more secure. Doing things she’d never done before put her vastly outside her element. ”I’m going to teach you how to copy my face!” She grinned. It’d be odd seeing her face on the body of someone else. ”First, you need to look within, to focus on your djed. This isn’t like reimancy, where you’re making res. Instead, your djed is going to just alter its shape. Like this, see?”

She closed her eyes and focused internally, toward the brilliant shine of her own djed. It was a living tapestry, comprised of a thousand or more threads, each linked inextricably to a part of herself, hardwired to her body and her mind. Slowly, she waded through, sorting physical from mental, finding that which defined her as a tiny, frail little nine year-old girl. It didn’t take terribly long; in the end, she had two separate halves, allowing her to address either individually without interrupting the processes of the other.

She reached forth and sorted about the physical until she found the arrow straight angle of her nose, these strands in particular set at a slant, central to the composition of her face. Celeste took a phantom hand and then pulled outward, stretching her nose outward in a comical fashion. To Kit it’d look like she was growing her nose as if by force of will, before snapping it back into place with a little wiggle.

”So, the idea is that you have to first sort through your own djed.” She itched at the skin she’d just allowed back into place ”It takes a few chimes or so for the beginner. You have to sort out the body from the brain, to make sure you don’t accidentally toy with your own mind. It keeps things organized and helps you focus. Then, once you’re done with all that, you figure out where the djed is in relation to what you want to change. For example, I had to search for the djed of my nose and then focus on changing its shape. You should pick a part of your body and try it – maybe try growing your fingernails, first.”

Was it enough of an explanation?

”If you’re having trouble, you might visualize your actual djed as a tapestry, like threads on a loom, each one linked to a piece of who and what you are. What makes you, you!” Perhaps that was a little better. Feeling satisfied, she grabbed her glass of lemonade to quickly take a sip before turning back to watch Kit in her first transformation.