Chương 53: Chapter 45 ~ A Discussion with Donuts

15/11/1111 EotTS 23: 37 Upon crossing beneath the bridge, ivy, and silver Dhy'Lyuhn, Wyohla had picked up her pace, hurrying along and putting meters of space between herself and Gysel, until she came to a stop just within the threshold of the Academy's portico, only far enough back that the moonlight ceased to cast her shadow. As soon as Gysel caught up, Wyohla started towards the door, and said: "Gysel, can you get the door again?"

Nodding, and hurrying ahead, Gysel pulled open the thick, black oak door, and ushered the donut-bearer through with the wave of the wine bottle, into the entrance hall.

The Hall was surprisingly busy at this time of night, mostly filled with pairs of men and women who had taken up spots on the couches and chairs by the lit fire places; some were in groups, some were in pairs, and all were behaving in the manner people should when in public, save for one of the pairs, who certainly had a better place to be than a recliner for one.

The soft chattering of people mixed with the smoke of the lights and pipes, and drifted upwards, curling around itself towards the high ceiling and wooden rafters, passing the balconies, and a distant wooden cat perched upon the railing—Puppet-Cat!

"Look, look!" said Gysel, pointing upwards with the wine bottle, up to the sixth story, and at Puppet-Cat, who was peering down upon those in the entrance hall.

"At what?" Wyohla asked.

"Up." Gysel glanced at Wyohla; just to be sure she was following the wine bottle.

"At the railing of the sixth-floor balcony. On the left."

"They really did do an excellent job on the engraving."

"No, at Puppet-Cat, he is on the railing."

"When was the last time you went to the optometrist?"

"Why does that matter? Look at Puppet-Cat..." Gysel looked back to where Puppet-Cat once was, but was no more: vanished.

"We can stop by my optometrist sometime, though; I don't know if your lens can get much thicker."

"I am not blind... with my glasses. Puppet-Cat was on that railing."

"I believe you, Gysel," said Wyohla, as she started towards the dorms.

"There are a lot stranger things about than black-oak cats. Come on." Gysel hurried after—next time, Puppet-Cat will not get away. When Wyohla and Gysel returned to room '54' Gysel's clothing sat exactly where Lyma said she would leave it: neatly folded upon the table.

Hurriedly, Gysel placed Wyohla's wine and the two programs on the table, and snatched up her clothing, and scurried off towards her room, unlocking the door, and slipping inside to put the clothing on the bed: it would be nice to change out of the dress, and into something more comfortable, but this would have to do for the time being—as Lyma is not present, and someone happens to enjoy looking through keyholes, specifically this one—.

Gysel returned to the common room, and found Wyohla already starting on the donuts.

"Are you not going to wait for Lyma?" If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Wyohla, with half a filled donut in her mouth, pointed to the door of Lyma's room, and said something, but conveyed little more than a spattering of half-chewed bits of donut: she was likely saying that Lyma was in her room.

So, Gysel went and got a glass of water, then joined Wyohla at the table, and started on a donut of her own, flicking away the pieces of sugar that clung to her fingers after each bite. Lyma emerged shortly from her room wearing just her cream, cable-knit woolen sweater-dress, with her red hair, wrapped up in a towel, towering high above her head.

"How was it?" she asked, as she walked to the table and sat down next to Gysel; she smelled of the Academy's apple spice soap and shampoo.

"It was good," answered Gysel.

"They need to hire people who aren't fools," added Wyohla.

"Honorifics?" asked Lyma.

"Of course."

"Is that why you bought donuts?"

"No." Wyohla took a sip from the spout of the wine bottle.

"I was just hungry. Have one; I don't need to eat too many of them."

"Sure." Lyma took an unfilled donut, and began to eat.

"So what was this play about again?"

"Well," said Wyohla, and then she began to explain the whole plot to Lyma, who nodded along, ate, and drank the wine.

"Now, think about what you think the lesson is, Lyma."

"I already know what the lesson is."

"Well, Gysel, what did you think the lesson was?"

"I answered you already on the walk back," said Gysel, "I said the lesson was to practice asceticism as it will lead you to the truth."

"If that is your takeaway from Tsininokha," started Lyma, "maybe you should become one of those scholarly priestess types in the capital."

"If I wanted to be a 'scholarly priestess type,' I would not be here. Instead I would be in the capital, being an ascetic 'scholarly priestess type'." Bird-watching could be considered a worldly comfort, and as wonderful as not having to speak to people sounded, bird-watching was far better.

"They are nowhere near as ascetic as you would imagine," said Wyohla, taking one of the pumpkin donuts from the box, and sliding two of her gloved fingers through the hole, sprinkling grains of sugar upon the table as the dough stretched; then she began to eat the donut as if it were meat on a skewer.

"I don't know about that," Lyma took a donut for herself, and ate it in a normal, non-deranged manner.

"It took them five years to let my family know that my great-aunt died, because none of them ever leave their monasteries." Wyohla shrugged, and continued with her autumn treat.

"Is my interpretation wrong?" asked Gysel.

"No," said Lyma, "not at all. There aren't any wrong interpretations. I agree with your interpretation actually."

"So, why are you not one of those priestesses?"

"Why?" Lyma paused, and reached for a braid that was not there.

"Yes," said Gysel, starting on another donut; these would be excellent with some tea.

"That is what I asked."

"Let's just say I quite enjoy my material pleasures and leave it at that."

"All right." Gysel looked to Wyohla, who was rubbing her hands together, brushing the crumbs and sugar from her gloves.

"What do you think the lesson is, Wyohla?"

"Sometimes it is better to be a gold-loving hylic," answered Wyohla.

"Why?" asked Gysel: Wyohla was certainly gold-loving to some degree; she loved it enough to spend it, but not keep it: so she was certainly not a hylic.

"Well, there are three different endings to Tsininokha, and they perform different final acts each night. Our ending, where the curtains shut before you see how she reacts, is the ambiguous one; there is another one where she is happy, hugging each of the other women as they leave, and another where she breaks down sobbing. I think the 'sad' ending is the true ending. Anyway, that's why they date the programs."

"I still think my answer is correct," said Gysel.

"I like the ambiguous ending better. It would not make sense for her to be overjoyed, as she is leaving her mother behind in squalor. But it would also not make sense for her to be devastated, as she now has a very easy life ahead of her."

"Different strokes for different folks," said Wyohla, pushing her hair back. The clock struck the twenty-fourth hour, and the Academy's bells began to toll in the distance. Wyohla stood, walked to the cupboard, removed a plate, and set it on the table, dividing out the donuts.

"I think it's time for me to head home," she said.

"It's late. Good night, you two. Thanks for coming with me, Gysel."

"Thank you for paying," Gysel answered. And Wyohla left, taking six of the remaining twelve donuts (three filled, three not filled), leaving another six for Lyma and Gysel to squabble over; the full bottle of wine (letting Lyma keep what was left of the open bottle); and her program.

"Help me get out of this dress," said Gysel, as soon as the door shut on Wyohla.

"Sure," answered Lyma, as she stood, then the two headed to Gysel's room.

"Did you like it?"

"I did. I would just like to be in something more cozy."