Media: Affinities

Cadence smelled smoke and the burning stink of flesh. She bolted upright to see flickering orange tongues lick the slit under her door.

No, she thought. I took Moonflower milk. I shouldn't be dreaming.

The flames consuming the door thought otherwise. With a menacing roar, it brought down the whole structure, then began eating through the carpet and reached Cadence's bed.

There was nowhere else to run. Cadence threw open the window and leaped off the windowsill. She felt the familiar resistance of air, the drag of gravity as she plunged right down into the garden. As her shadow loomed closer and darker, she pushed against it, sending her body shooting into the air. Cadence unhinged the shadows from the flames which had now reached the ceiling. Even from afar, the heat and smell the charring smell of burning wood was overpowering.

There was nothing outside the mansion for her to latch on to. Cadence bounced off her shadow lightly before she landed with a roll. She uncurled herself to find a sea of fire consuming the gardens of Mansion Khavarosk. Frosts, even the lake was on fire.

Confused and disoriented, she swung around to find the other side of the garden rising into a sea of flames. She was trapped in between two walls of fire with no way of escaping. Panic seized her, asphyxiating her, taking away her ability to think and to breathe. The world did not make any more sense, there were just the blistering heat and the sense of impending dread.

Smokey horses charged out from the flames and circled her. The horses neighed, and the riders raised their weapons. Round and round the horses galloped. Cadence's eyes teared up from the smoke, she couldn't see properly. The horses and their riders loomed like indiscernible black shapes around her, cheering at the top of their voices.

Pain erupted in her chest. She cried out and fell to her knees. Looking down, she saw a spear sticking out of her chest, glistening with fresh, red blood—her blood.

This is what you get for making a deal with a Polong. Her father's voice rumbled from the haze of smoke and fire. You do not deserve to live.

Another spear rammed through her chest. Cadence screamed.

Master Orelik appeared in front of her, still dressed in the splendid ball robes of Sahorr. Cadence's eyes bulged. The man has no face. It looked as if it was blown away by an explosion, exposing the flesh and veins underneath. His eyeballs rolled in the sockets, and his tongue flickered in and out of what was left of his mouth.

You took my daughter away from me. A spear materialized in his hand. He stabbed it through Cadence's left eye. She felt her eyeball explode and the muscles in her head tear apart.

A third person walked out from the smoke. It was a woman—a head of soft, golden hair, piercing blue eyes, and a mouth drawn into a tight line—Capella.

She did not speak, but she rammed her spear right into Cadence's heart. Pain exploded, blood spurted. Her heart was poking out from the pointed side of the spear, still thumping like a caged animal. She should be dead. Her heart was literally torn from her chest. The pain was overwhelming. It scorched every part of her, sinking deeper and deeper.

After the initial shock had settled, Cadence's nerves started to die, relieving her of the torture. The three dead people stared at her as she writhed then closed her eyes and died.

Cadence woke up, bathed in sweat. Lambent sun rays trickled into her chamber through the half-open window. She had left one pane opening outward to let in the Spring breeze. Her hands went to her chest, clawing it until her fingers had left red, running marks on her flesh.

Papa.

There was no way she was going back to sleep. She got off the bed and slid into one of the fluffy robes the Feorh had left for her. The air was warm, but Cadence felt as if she had been dunked into a vat full of ice then left to dry without a towel. Shivering, she huddled in a pitiful bundle on the floor, trying to keep the tremors to a minimum but with no avail.

She was running out of time. She needed to resurrect her father and Master Orelik or would be driven insane by the nightmares. Cadence clawed at the carpet, raising the shadows before hurling them with all her energy at the mirror.

The arrows of shadows shattered the mirror at once. Broken shards surrounded her like a rain of tinsel silver. A few loose shards cut her in the cheeks, but the physical pain was welcoming. Cadence could tell physical pain apart from the madness in her mind for now, but what of the future?

Cadence choked a tendril of shadows in her hands.

"Tell me how to use you to bring my father back!" she screamed at it, shaking it, as if she could shake all its secrets free. "TELL ME!"

The shadow remained silent. With tears running down her cheeks, she tossed the shadow back onto the ground and buried her face in her arms. She rocked herself to and fro, counting numbers in her head.

Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three...

A Feorh appeared at her door, waiting to bring her to Nikolai.

Cadence didn't need a mirror to tell she looked like a complete disaster. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She could barely see through it. Her lips were bleeding from her continuous chewing, and she could hardly stand.

She brushed her sweat-coated hair back in an attempt to make herself presentable, but that probably worked as well as a mule wearing clothes to pass as a human.

Nikolai was more annoyed than shocked to see her in her current state.

"What have you done to yourself?" the tailor shouted in dismay. "Today is the big day, and you've gone and ruined yourself!"

Cadence sniffed, not wanting to reply him.

"You need a bath," Nikolai said. "A hot, burning bath."

Cadence cringed and tried to make a run for the door.

No, she did not need a hot burning bath. She needed something that's not even remotely related to the word hot.

He clapped his hands. Glowing Runes started to gather in front of him, coalescing into a ball of light and molded itself into three separate Feorhs in the shape of a human.

"Scrub her clean. Do what you can to make her presentable."

The Feorhs nodded, then proceeded to usher Cadence to the conjoining bathroom. One of the Feorhs drew the curtains and slammed the door shut while the other two held her down forcibly and removed her clothes. They had apparently taken their assigned task with too seriously, for one of them disrobed her with so much enthusiasm, it tore her robe apart.

They scrubbed her hair and every inch of her body until she felt like a raw piece of meat, waiting to be seasoned and then served. They lathered her with a lemon-smelling soap and silked her hair with an oil-like substance, leaving her hair glossy and feeling full. When they were done scrubbing her skin off, the Feorhs dried her and covered her in towels.

One gestured at the door.

"Surely you're going to give me something else to wear?" Cadence said.

The other two Feorhs joined their partner and waved at the door again.

With her hands pressed tightly over the towel's opening, she stepped out of the bathroom where she saw Nikolai prepping the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

The tailor had made a traditional two-piece dress of their culture but had also incorporated the elegance of Maysian fashion. The entire dress was in a brilliant shade of red, as red as freshly pressed roses. The upper piece of the dress was covered in a rhinestone encrusted organza which fell to her knees on the front and the back. The lower part of the dress consisted of two items—a pair of pants and a long skirt with long, slitted sides. The skirt was nowhere restricting, being made from red silk and muslin. It flowed right down and opening into a beautiful, full blossom which would sweep the floor with her every movement.

Cadence's mouth fell open.

"I've got your new undergarments behind the changing screen. Go pop those on and we'll test this precious on you."

Cadence went behind the changing screen and found a pair of silk breast-bands and underpants. She put those on and marveled at how soft they felt, unlike her usual undergarments which became scratchy over time. Cadence touched the pockets of her robes and felt for her bead of obsidian. After sliding it into the small pocket of her undergarment, she re-wrapped the towel around the waist and walked out of the changing screen.

Nikolai asked her to put on the lower part of the dress first, then helped her with the over-piece. He brushed the organza with his fingers. Tiny runes appeared at the tip of his fingers and vanished into the fabric.

"What's that for?" Cadence asked.

"To make the rhinestones gleam," he said. "Today, you'll be wearing the stars."

The dress felt like a second skin. There were no restrictions, it was like wearing a kubah, a garment made for combat, yet it represented the glamorous side of her. Nikolai slipped on the softest pair of shoes she had ever worn onto her feet, shoes she could walk and dance in without injuring her feet.

Nikolai guided her to the full-length mirror.

"Now, see what I see."

Cadence couldn't believe the woman in the mirror was her. She remembered seeing a gaunt person with hollowed, tired eyes and wearing a servant girl's overalls, not this noblewoman in a stunning dress of red silk. The red complemented her pale, milk skin. Although she looked sick, she was presentable.

Nikolai brushed his fingers across Cadence's forehead, gently tracing the curve of her cheekbones. Small flashes of light burst under her eyes as the tailor set to work. A ticklish sensation crawled over her face, circling her eyes and then down to her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Cadence asked, dying to take a peek into the mirror but couldn't as she was turned to face Nikolai.

"Turning you into the noblewoman you deserve to be." He retracted his hand. "Now, look into the mirror."

Cadence's heart leaped. As the last of the Runes sank in, her eye bags disappeared. The dark circles of nightmares grew lighter. Her cheeks glowed a healthy pink, and her eyes were sparkling with life. She touched her face, and the person in the mirror copied her movements.

This is me. This is really me.

"It's only temporary," Nikolai said. "The glamour Runes will fade at night, but it will serve its purpose throughout the day. There is no fear of it washing out since it is done through magic."

"Thank you." Cadence gripped the tailor's hands tight. "I don't know what else to say, this is magnificent."

"It's my duty." He bowed.

The tailor went into the cupboard and brought out a large, ornate chest. "We're not finished yet, my lady. There is still so much to be done."

He unclasped the lock and lifted the lid of the chest to reveal an assortment of jewelry, headdresses, and other precious accessories. He drew a golden headdress from the silks. It was assembled from many other pieces. Some were shaped like flowers, others were shaped like dancing phoenixes, while some were elaborate whorls of gold. He placed it gently on Cadence's head and fastened it with little black pins. The tasseled jewels of her headdress tinkled as Nikolai added more pieces to it, completing it with a ruby frontlet which dangled in front of her temple.

Nikolai wasn't finished with his masterpiece yet. He drew dark lines of khol on her eyes, dusted her eyelids with a small wave of glitter and painted her lips with gloss. When he was done, Cadence could barely recognize herself.

She looked like a noble, someone who had painted a layer of grandeur over her servant self. An impression to last.

"Last but not least." Nikolai strapped Cadence's dual daggers onto the silk belt hidden by the organza. "To be Varya is to be aware of everything and anything."

Nikolai walked Cadence out of his workshop and down to the main hall. The entire hall had been transformed into a place of resplendence. The chandeliers were polished to the blinding point, the blue carpets were removed and replaced with red and yellow—the colors of the fire festival—with torches lining the inside of the hall. Ishor was a festival of fire, the celebration of the return of spring and must be celebrated during the day.

Daisies spanned the windows, twisting and turning on poles hung by a thin thread. Guests had begun to fill the hall. Some were dancing to the music played by an orchestra by the side while most were sipping mead, laughing and talking as Feorhs wove in and out of the crowd, replenishing the ever dwindling mead supply and bringing more food onto the tables.

"This is where I leave you, my lady," Nikolai said.

"My name is Cadence," Cadence said. "Please call me Cadence."

"Cadence it is then." There was a twinkle in his eyes. "Merry part."

Cadence stared at the teeming crowd beneath the spiral staircase. She clutched the fabric of the dress, letting the silk slide against her hand. Taking in a deep breath, she tilted her chin like how she had seen Ales did—the proud tilt of the nobility, the slightly arrogant air they carried as they walked. Her hands glided the wooden railings and she descended the stairs.

Nikolai was right about the Maysian fashion infiltrating the Moskavans. Although the hall was decorated with the color of fire, none of the guests wore such shades. Her red dress was the focal point of the hall with the scintillating rhinestones, sending a mosaic of sparkles skittering across the dance floor.

Eli was welcoming guests by the door. Cadence walked up to him and smiled.

"Cadence?" Eli's eyes widened. "Holy Dewas." He glanced at Cadence then pinched her on the arm to make sure she was not an illusion.

"Nikolai's handiwork." She curtsied, or at least tried to. She had seen Khazaria curtsy when meeting with the other elders from Houses of War, and she did it so effortlessly. "Have you seen Ales?"

Eli shook his head, then was distracted by another pair of nobles walking through the door.

"I'll join you in a few. Go enjoy the party."

Cadence went to a nearby unoccupied table and lifted a glass of wine off a passing Feorh's tray. She lifted it to her lips and sipped it, watching the nobility chatter around her. Some pointed at her, then turned away when they saw her noticing. Perhaps Nikolai had gone overboard when she said she liked red. Her red dress was drawing so much attention she felt uncomfortable.

"Merri." A young nobleman approached her with a huge smile on his face. He had a small, ragged beard, dark eyes which crinkled when he smiled, and a twinkling dimple. "Would my lady like to dance?"

"I don't dance," Cadence said.

"It's easy," the man said. "I'll teach you."

Seeing that there was nothing else she could do except sip mead and listen to the orchestra, Cadence placed her hand into his offered one.

"I am Sorin of House Buvian, and you are?"

"Cadence," she replied. "Of the Region of Elements."

Sorin, to her surprise, didn't press on when she didn't reply with her affiliated House. He placed a hand on Cadence's waist. "Put your hand on my shoulder," he said. "Then hold my other hand, like this."

They intertwined their fingers. Sorin stepped to the side, hinting that she did the same. Up, down, left, right, a twirl. Cadence followed the steps, marking them into her mind. Maybe dancing wasn't so hard after all.

"You look absolutely stunning," Sorin said. He had a gruff voice. It wasn't deep like Ales', or smooth like Eli's, but just as appealing. His gave Cadence the impression that he was a man of commitment. Cadence felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. The wine she had drunk made her tipsy, it must be a strong one. She laughed.

"And you look absolutely dashing." A small part of Cadence was thrilled at her attempt to flirt, while the other part was shaking her head in dismal. You call that a flirt?

Sorin twirled her around. Cadence spun, her dress flying around her, fanning open in a perfect circle. The nobleman's hand slid lower, but Cadence allowed him to. Round after round they danced, Cadence saw bursts of colors as others danced past her. The music rose into a higher note. Sorin lifted her up, much to her surprise, then set her down before they broke apart. The only thing that anchored them together was the touch of their fingertips. Applause filled the room. Cadence curtsied, while Sorin bowed.

"You're a natural," Sorin said. "I find it hard to believe you don't dance."

Cadence checked her headdress, afraid that it had fallen sideways from all the dancing. "Well, I have a great teacher."

"Would my lady like another dance? They're playing Bosch. It's classic."

Cadence accepted his offer. Unlike the previous tune which had a merry upbeat, this was slower with an almost narcotic drag. While she danced in a circle, she had a clear view of the entire hall. From the corner of her eye, she saw two men enter the hall. One of them was a stout, unfriendly-looking man with a huge beard. The other one was a man with a long scar pulling his mouth out of shape, and he carried a bandolier lined with vials of black liquid.

Taras. Cadence tensed up but she forced herself to continue dancing, lest Sorin suspected anything. She turned her head away from Taras, yet monitored him from her peripheral vision.

She prayed he wouldn't notice her, at the same time, furious at herself.

How did she overlook this? Walker Hunters, although despised by Eli, were welcomed into the Khavarosk household and the Hall of Spirits by Master Raphine Khavarosk. Pretending to be a Kesatria, especially when she was a Murka was an offense worthy of death. Now that she was a Walker, the stakes were higher.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Sorin asked. Cadence didn't notice the song had ended. "You seem shocked."

"I'm fine," she said. "I-I just need to excuse myself for a moment."

"Hurry back." Sorin kissed her hand. "I'll be waiting for you here."

Please look somewhere else, Cadence begged as she tried to act normal, just like any other guest leaving the hall. Don't notice me.

Taras was busy sampling some wine at the confectionery table, lost in a conversation with his partner. Their red cloaks were as blinding as the sun. Cadence was so close to the exit, she would reach it if ran, but that would draw attention, and attention was the very last thing she needed right now.

Her vibrant red dress was a giveaway. Cadence reached the door just as Taras looked up. Their eyes connected. It was brief, but it was enough for recognition to pass between them. Taras leaped to his feet, shattering his wine glass with his hand.

"You."

Cadence fled. Her silks fluttered behind her as ran down the corridor. She gave herself huge pushes as her shadows flitted by, giving her an edge over Taras. Taras had given chase, his footsteps ricocheting behind her like arrows gone wild.

If I can lose him, I'll be safe.

She gathered her energy at her feet, kicked off the balcony and pushed herself upward. Cadence almost missed the roof. She latched on clumsily to the edge of the roof by the tips of her fingers, then hauled herself up with great effort. Cadence flattened her back against the tower wall just as Taras ran underneath her.

She didn't know why Taras wanted to catch her. He didn't know she was a Walker. Their previous encounter revealed she was Murka. He was no Kesatria, why would he care if she went out disguised as a Kesatria?

Cadence waited until the footsteps ceased, then threw two tendrils of shadows upward which curled around the stone railings of the higher floor.

She pulled herself upward and landed in front of Khazaria Orelik.