Swords flash through the smoky air, crashing together again and again. Gunfire and metal on metal assault my ears. I drop and roll as Giacomo sidesteps, then jump up behind him, dagger against his throat while holding his arms down. He does a reverse grip trick so that he’s holding my arms and spins around, away from my dagger, to try to trap me, but I slide out of his grip like an eel. It gets easier every time.

“I didn’t know we could do that,” Giacomo mutters as we return to hand-to-hand combat. Dmitri is somewhere else in the room; smoke obscures most of it. His job is to simulate a real battle environment. Why we’re doing hand-to-hand sword fighting, when now most warfare is done with guns and other explosive things, I don’t know, but my all-knowing tutor made it clear that I am not to question his methods.

I really just think he’s reluctant to give me a gun, either because I’ve excelled beyond his expectations in everything he’s had me try thus far, or because I’m not spectacular at aiming water orbs yet and he doesn’t want to give me anything more dangerous.

A cannon blast echoes through the training room and again I drop to the floor. This time I concentrate on not wanting to be found while using water underneath me to help me slither across the ground like a water snake. I hope it works. I hope my hunch about why he didn’t see me last night was right... Machine gun fire. Giacomo also drops to the floor, but he’s clearly searching for me.

“Where did she go?!” he demands, frustration apparent. Dmitri snickers. No doubt he derives great pleasure from our tutor’s struggles. “Dmitri, I swear, if you’re interfering again--”

“Sorry, mate, you’re on your own. I am a gentleman, and a gentleman always keeps his word. I swore I’d stay out of it and maintain your battlefield conditions for you,” my fiancé answers airily. He’s probably telling the truth. He doesn’t know I learned how to be invisible--I didn’t even know until a few moments ago, though apparently I’ve had the skill for longer--and he probably learned his lesson when he cut into the martial arts lesson earlier because Giacomo accidentally hit my bosom area. After futilely explaining to my enraged fiancé that it was purely an accident, Giacomo lost patience and nearly drowned Dmitri in a deluge. “Speaking of your battlefield conditions--” Several cannon blasts echo from various locations in the room. I wait three seconds, creeping ever closer to Giacomo with my water snake imitation, and then--

“KYYYAAAAAAAAH!” I yell as I release my invisibility and spring into the air, landing with my twin swords crossed over Giacomo’s neck as he hides from the cannon fire on the ground. Giacomo curses roundly from surprise and frustration at my having won this particular sparring match (though truly, he shouldn’t be upset, as he won the last couple).

“I really do not see a cause for such foul language,” I remark caustically as I release Giacomo’s neck from its sword-prison. “You ought to know better. You are, after all, in the presence of a lady.”

“Since when could you be invisible?!” he sputters as he clamors to his feet, understandably annoyed with me. I would be annoyed with me, too.

“I’m not sure,” I reply honestly. “I probably developed the skill with all the sneaking around I did in Grandmother’s chateau while I was growing up.”

Dmitri emerges from the smoke, looking only slightly less perplexed than our venerable tutor.

“Are you quite sure? If you’ve been able to use it for some time now, then why haven’t you used it before?” Dmitri inquires. I shrug.

“It seems to stem from an ardent desire not to be found. I can offer no further explanation for an ability that, up until this morning’s training session, I was unaware that I possessed.”

“I don’t understand how that can be possible. Surely you knew before today,” Giacomo argues. “That was not the disappearing act of a beginner. I’ve had the privilege of fighting with a number of magic-endowed humans, and none of them could vanish with such ease.”

“I can understand your sentiment, but I had no idea that I had any ability to manipulate water until shortly after I moved here, scarce a month ago.”

“That’s true,” Dmitri nods, confirming my statement. “Most of her abilities have developed since then. She was unaware of possessing magic before she came here, too.”

“I can’t believe this!” Giacomo exclaims, clutching his blond ropy tresses. “If that’s true, she’s by far the most talented magic-endowed human I’ve ever met, perhaps the most talented one alive!”

“I’ll venture a guess that my grandmother and Acionna are both more talented, or at least more powerful,” I mutter.

“Who? You can’t mean our patron goddess, Acionna?”

“The very same. I know of no others by that name.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re close friends with her, too?” Giacomo spits sarcastically. I shrug, refusing to play the sarcasm game for once. I see nothing funny about this situation, personally.

“She refers to me as her daughter, but I believe we must spend a bit more time together before I can consider her a close friend.” This seems to be too much intelligence about me for the blond water-bender; his eyes roll back in his head and he slumps to the floor, unconscious. “Interesting. Perhaps I should talk instead of fighting from now on.”

“Only if you have the words to overwhelm every soldier with whom you come into contact,” Dmitri replies with a thoughtful expression. “I suppose we should revive him, and then adjourn our training session for the day.”

“You didn’t get much training in. Are you sure?” I ask, dousing Giacomo’s head with the iciest spurt of water I can produce.

“YOW!” Giacomo yelps.

“Yes, I’m sure. I had enough fun remembering how to use all of our implements of war down here,” Dmitri answers me, ignoring Giacomo’s outburst. Our tutor rises unsteadily to his feet and massages his temples with both hands.

“Where do all the cannonballs and stuff go?” I inquire.

“I incinerate them before they can do any damage. It takes a bit of energy.” He looks absolutely drained. No wonder he’s not particularly inclined to train. “I think we ought to be finished training for today, Giacomo. You look fairly wan. Perhaps you should go take a nap.” This show of concern, though grudging, lights a spark of hope deep within me. Can it be that he’s trying to act against his jealous inclinations for my sake?

“As you wish. Enjoy the rest of your day,” Giacomo bids us distractedly, shaking water and unwanted thoughts out of his ears.

“And you as well,” I return as Dmitri and I leave the training area together.

“Better today than yesterday, at least for you, Aerys,” Wesley comments as we enter his study. Next time we’re leaving through the secret passage, even if it means leaving Giacomo unconscious to wonder where we went. “A pity you were consigned to special effects duty, Dmitri. I trust tomorrow will be different.”

“Relax, Father. We’ve determined to take turns, and after all, I believe we’ve all agreed that Aerys is the one who needs the most combat training,” Dmitri replies suavely. Wesley arches an eyebrow.

“After her performance today, we may soon have to reevaluate that assessment.”

“Begging your pardon, Your Excellency--” I begin.

“Please, call me Father. You have the right to do so, after all.”

“Begging your pardon, Father, but just because I can do a few magic tricks and wave a sword about somewhat effectively in no way means that I am anywhere close to ready for a real battlefield.”

“No one would ever presume to make such a ludicrous assumption. But you are highly intelligent and remarkably talented, and you’re a fast learner, besides. I fully expect that soon you will be ready. Now, run along and get a bit of rest before luncheon.”

Dmitri and I do as we have been bidden, but Dmitri is grumbling all the way.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure you get a chance to shine tomorrow,” I assure him, squeezing his arm in the most comforting way I can manage. He smiles slightly.

“I look forward to it. You should get a chance to see how all the implements of war work.”

“I’m sure I’m meant to learn them all eventually.”

“I don’t doubt it. But no need to think of that now. We should think instead about the interviews with the men of God this afternoon.”

“That’s still happening?” I groan. “I thought we postponed all wedding plans until further notice.”

Dmitri rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought, too,” he sighs. “But my mother is irrepressible, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, and we scheduled the interviews before we found out about the war, so those appointments must be honoured. We start immediately after luncheon.”

“I suppose there’s no avoiding it, then. All the more reason to take a nap before luncheon.”

“Indeed. But beforehand... A letter came from you early this morning. I thought about letting you have it at breakfast, but I thought it might interfere with training, and so I put it off--”

“From whom is this letter, that you think it so liable to disturb me?”

“One Xenia de Poitiers. Your grandmother, I believe?”

I can feel the blood draining from my face. What business can she have with me? Dmitri seems to take my reaction as a matter of course and pulls me into his studio, which we happened to be passing at the time. It’s one of the few places we can be alone together without anyone replaceing out, because so few individuals are permitted access here. Dmitri pulls a sealed packet, labelled with Xenia’s elaborate, swirling script, from the mail pouch of a graven Hermes and hands it to me. I cautiously begin to open it, afraid that a curse or some other manifestation of her dark power will leap out of the parchment and entangle me in its dastardly grip. Dmitri leads me to a bench near the windows, solicitous as always. To my surprise and relief, all the packet appears and feels to contain are lines of words in the same swirling script.

From Xenia de Poitiers, Duchess of Poitiers and heiress of Saxony, Westphalia, and Alsace-Lorraine, to her beloved granddaughter Aerys de Poitiers at the residence of Their Excellencies, the Lord and Lady Berkeley:

I have not heard from you in a long time, Granddaughter. I expected you would write to us here at Chateau Poitiers, but perhaps you have been too busy with wedding plans to give your family much thought. I hope you and your fiancé are getting along well. You seemed well-suited when we saw you together at your birthday celebration.

I write to inform you that the Archduke of Austria, heir of the Holy Roman Empire, was recently assassinated by a Serb. Serbia is refusing to give Austria the compensation she deserves for such a grievous loss. My patron, Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, is allied with Austria and has pledged her his unwavering support, should a conflict break out.

I think it very likely that war will indeed break out, and as such I am calling on you and all others I know with a gift for magic to come to the right side, the winning side, my side. I do not doubt that you have already discovered your gifting of magic, which is no small gifting and no small responsibility. I trust that you have paid the same attention to it that you gave your studies while you resided with us. Do not be angry with me for not informing you of your gift or training you in it; your parents and I decided that it was better if you didn’t know, so that you would not use your talents for unsuitable purposes.

However, the time has come to put your skills to good use. Wherever your fiancé’s family’s alliances may lie, your place is with your family. If war breaks out, I expect you to fight alongside me. If you refuse, I will unleash all the powers of Hell, which answer to my command, on you, your fiancé, and his family.

Do not disappoint me.

***~O~***

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