Chương 28: Chapter 26 ~ Illyamylaa Wi'Loushkha Yankroush Wehly-Genaeshanya

05/11/1111 EotTS 17: 19 Gysel left the Headmaster's office, and started on the long descent down the library. As she rounded the quarter turn from the top floor, she saw Wyohla and Lyma sitting on the steps near the bottom; this was odd, so Gysel made her way down to them and asked: "Why are you two up here?"

"Visi forgot to mention how men and women both have aspects of the masculine fire and the feminine water," said Lyma, as she stood up from the step she was seated on.

"He and Lyvahn started again about five minutes after you left."

"That does not answer why you are here."

"I don't want to listen to more of his babbling, so I left, and Wyohla came with me. Then we came up here to get you so you don't go back and have to subject yourself to that."

"We are going to Ardhy's," added Wyohla. She stood as well, and adjusted her trousers so the waistband was back above her hip bones.

"All right. Is it just the four of us?" Gysel asked.

"No, Thyres is coming, Visi and Lyvahn will probably join us later. I left a note; they should see it, whether we are still at Ardhy's when they do is another thing." Lyma flicked a red plait over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.

"Where are Ardhy and Thyres?"

"Ardhy is already on his way back to his house, Thyres is with Visi and Lyvahn," said Wyohla.

"We said we would wait for you."

"I have to put my paper back." Gysel shook the thin stack of papers.

"Well, then let's get going." Wyohla began to lead the way. She looked to Gysel over her shoulder.

"Did you pass? We passed Tithrynn on our way up. He didn't look very happy."

"Of course I passed," Gysel answered.

"Can I see your answer?" asked Lyma as she started down the stairs next to Wyohla.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you cannot. No one may see it besides myself," said Gysel with a shrug: no was no. Lyma huffed. It was unfortunate that Lyma could not be helped; her friend and roommate, certainly wanted to assist, but the Headmaster had said no, and breaking that 'no' would have far worse consequences than Lyma having to do the project herself. After reaching the ground floor of the library, they passed the still debating Visi and Lyvahn—unnoticed—and headed for the dorms.

Once back at Lyma and Gysel's dorms, Gysel went into her room and locked the door, while Wyohla and Lyma waited in the common room. She returned the papers to where they were and rejoined the others. Upon crossing under the gate and exiting the grounds of the Academy, Wyohla took the lead with her usually brisk pace, which to-day was moderately faster than the standard; she took a right at the main street and began following it up: towards Ardhy's home.

05/11/1111 EotTS 18: 00 Ardhy's home was located across the street from the tall walls of Thoranyn castle proper. The (for lack of a better term, as the residence was far larger than the standard house in the city, but not as large as the home given to nobles) manor was enclosed by a high red brick wall with metal spikes at the top, but these spikes did not have a choice in the matter of their purpose, as creeper vines worked their way up the wall, and over and around the spikes, rendering them decorative.

The blackened iron gate was custom; and judging by the distance between the bars, had been commissioned with vanity in mind before practicality, for Gysel, could easily squeeze herself between them, something which would need to be done in order to see what was behind the gate as the iron bars were held together by a thick sheet of iron designed with the silhouette of an open book and debossed with a design resembling pages, the center of which was exactly at head height for Gysel: high enough that she could not jump to see over it, and low enough that she would have to take to her hands and knees to see under it, and at that point, of course, one might as well just squeeze through the bars.

There was a stone guard booth to the left of the gate; it was well maintained, showing little of the ivy that was on the wall around it, and well retained, as the thick wood door opened on silent hinges and the gate-guard stepped out. He was a smaller man, but only in height; his broad shoulders and puffed-out chest made him look rectangular, nearly cubic. He surveyed Wyohla, Lyma, and Gysel, looking the latter two up and down, but only looking Wyohla down and then three-quarters up.

"Who is that?" He pointed to Gysel, but his eyes did not move.

"A new friend," Wyohla said.

"We are here to see Ardhy."

"Where are the other two?"

"They are coming, they will have someone new with them as well." The Guard nodded and opened the gate, letting the others and Gysel through. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The brick path to the front steps of the manor was lined with rose bushes, which did a better job of keeping people away from the small grove of trees on the left and (assumably artificial) duck pond on the right than the spikes on the wall ever could.

There was a raft of ten ducks in the pond (five drakes and five hens; the hens looked to be Northern Yldhfwalas, judging by their black heads and white cheeks, the drakes were likely the same), they were accompanied by a grand grey guardian goose; he swam with his head angled high, watching his surroundings down his beak, looking rather intimidating. Gysel glanced back to the guard; he was watching them walk towards the manor as he pulled the gate shut.

The manor itself was three stories tall; despite being shorter than Wyohla's town-house, it made up for it in width, being about four times longer than Wyohla's home. The ground floor was made of the same red bricks as the wall, with crossing timber lattices that were a muted red (possibly painted, but there was a species of tree that possessed a similar coloring in the wood, someone Father knew had a piano made from it).

The upper floors were half-timbered and had a creamy, paper white coating on them, which was uniform and lacked the urinary yellowing that tended to glaze the limewashing after too long days of the sun: they had been redone recently. The timbering was the same red as the ground floor. Cylindrical rooms jutted out from the walls and connected the upper floors. One of these rooms was larger than the rest and had a skylight with a shiny brass barrel poking out.

Wyohla walked up the grey slab-stone steps, taking two at a time, leaving her with an uneven number of skipped steps, this would have been awkward for Gysel, but Wyohla seemed unfazed, and grasped the brass knocker that dangled from the mouth of an equally brassy bear head attached to the large double doors. She gave it a good, hard knock against the brass plate behind it.

The left side of the towering wooden walnut door duo was opened by a maid in a uniform that matched the color-scheme of the house: white with red accents. Wyohla said her thanks. She ran down the hallway and vanished into the first door on the left. Lyma greeted the maid with a hello, and Gysel gave her a wave; the two hurried after Wyohla. Gysel rounded the corner to see Wyohla with her arms before her, weaving around furniture and across the parlor towards a heap of towels on the windowsill.

"Oh, my baby!" Wyohla cooed as she picked up the mass of white and blue cotton. As she raised it, it expanded into the form of a cat, with its legs and tail dangling down. With Wyohla and the cat at eye level, the cat (not including the tail) was about the length of Wyohla's torso. It was a white northern-forest cat, with ice blue eyes. On its head was a light blue cat-sized sunhat with holes for the ears, and on its feet were small color matched booties. The fabrics were the same blue as the cat's eyes.

The cat was well-groomed; judging by the satin luster of its long coat, which was a perfect and spotless white like fresh snow on ice: this was not an outdoor cat (probably too expensive to let roam about) or if it was an outdoor cat, it spent enough time inside grooming itself, that it would have no time to be an outdoor cat in the first place.

A few years back (three to be exact) a family moved into the house two down from Mother's and Father's; this family had a short-haired tabby cat named Frytzæn (a name which is simply the verb 'to mouse'), and they called it day in and day out, as Frytzæn spent more time outside than it did inside, and kept the birds away from the bird-feeder and birdbaths, leaving corpses in the bushes, and on the back porch.

Eventually, the cat stopped showing up and stalking about the bird-feeder, lurking in the bushes, leaving only the it's orange and white face showing, but after a half-maiden, the family stopped calling for the cat, then the birds came back, and the world continued as it should.

"Is that your cat?" Gysel asked, as she watched Wyohla rub noses with the feline.

"I like to think so," Ardhy said as he emerged from the room on the right, scratching behind his ear.

"Some days it's hard to tell."

"This is not just any 'cat,' Gysel," Wyohla turned and displayed the-cat-that-was-not-just-any-cat out for Gysel to admire and revel in.

"This is the great, Illyamylaa Wi'Loushkha Yankroush Wehly-Genaeshanya."

"Why in the northern dialect?" Gysel asked; it was strange hearing the language spoken aloud.

"Because she is worthy of the more regal pronunciation." The cat purred loudly in agreement with Wyohla. The purr was deeper than the other types of cats that had been encountered in the past, finding the sweet spot between the standard purr, and the sound of heavy wooden furniture being dragged across a hardwood floor.

"What does it mean?" Gysel inquired; the only reasonable use for the more formal northern dialect was limited to alchemical terms and birds.

"Second Lady of Light Honey, Grand Duchess of Cat Realm."

"Was there a previous Illyamylaa?" Gysel approached and held her hand out for Illyamylaa so she could sniff it.

"No," Wyohla said, rocking her head back and forth, "This is the first Illyamylaa. And there will never be a regnant like her."

"Then why is she the second Lady of Light Honey?" This was, by far, the most superfluous name for a cat, even when compared to the other cats of members of the upper-mercantile class; a dog or bird with a similarly eccentric name to that of the manor-cat was yet to be encountered.

"Sounds more regal." Gysel turned to Ardhy.

"What is Illyamylaa's real name?"

"It's Illyamyla," answered Ardhy, "Wyohla just added the extra name-stuff." Gysel only nodded, and scratched Illyamylaa Wi'Loushkha Yankroush Wehly-Genaeshanya's chin; the regnant seemed to enjoy it, closing her eyes slightly, tilting her head up, and continuing to purr—but something about this felt wrong, the one who caressed the queen is missing express permission to touch the feline sovereign.

"I'm shocked that Ylltsa let you bring Illyamyla," said Lyma.

"She's going up north with my parents for a few years for business; we couldn't leave her alone in the capital," Ardhy replied, taking a seat on one of the thick leather couches. Wyohla adjusted her hold of Illyamyla, now holding the cat like a human child, and sat down next to Ardhy. She set the cat in her lap, and the feline stretched herself out, then lay down across the legs of Ardhy and Wyohla. Gysel took a seat in a matching chair, with her back to the window.

"Why so long?" asked Lyma.

"They're trying to marry her off to one of the noble families in the north so we don't have to pay tariffs on raw lumber as it crosses the borders." Ardhy ran his hand down the sovereign's back. Lyma grimaced.

"Gods-speed."

"That means the house in the capital is empty, we could go there over the second break during the spring," Wyohla suggested, a suggestion that was not a suggestion.

"Perhaps." Ardhy directed his attention to the window.

"Here come the others." Gysel peered around the chair and through the window: Lyvahn, Visi, and Thyres were slowly working their way up the walk.

"What are we going to be doing?"

"Eat dinner and sit around," answered Ardhy, "I already told the chef what you like."

"Thank you. But I will be leaving after dinner."

"Why?" asked Wyohla.

"I would like to read."

"Ardhy has a pretty big library, you can read there." Gysel shook her head: Wyohla did not understand; the point was to be alone.

"No. I will be reading in my dorm."