CA Chapter Seven (Patreon)

When Ava was little, long before cancer came to steal her mother from her, she and Molly used to play in a stream near their house. In the spring there were tadpoles, and in the summer and fall, Ava would splash and squeal as she chased after frogs and tiny fish. Her mother, Molly, would sit on the bank, dangling her feet in the cool water, laughing at Ava’s antics.

Their stream was wild and overgrown. There was an air of mystery about it, as if pixies or dryads might emerge from the trees that shrouded it, hiding it from rushing cars and the bustle of everyday life. There was a safe, fenced-in park nearby, with a paved walking trail, and few people were even aware that this fragment of space had been lost, and seemed determined to remain so. Though it was on public land, it felt like it belonged to Molly and Ava, and many of her brightest memories were of splashing through the shallow water, feeling water-worn stones and slippery fish slither between her toes.

Once Ava started school, the days they spent at the creek grew fewer and fewer. There were dance recitals and track meets, sleepovers and homework, all demanding time that once had been free. Eventually, they stopped going altogether, and Ava hadn’t thought of the winding, chattering stream in a dozen years or more.

Like the rest of the garden, the stream Ava found now was carefully maintained. The grass was perfectly even, and while there were ferns and a small stand of trees, they were all pruned and shaped to cast just the right amount of shadow. But the glistening round rocks, the tiny waves that caught the light and played with it like a toy being passed from one to the next, and the minnows darting from one flickering shadow to the next, those were just like she remembered.

Ava pushed Amy’s chair to the edge of the stone path and stared down into the water, watching as it poured over the top of one glossy rock, and swirled around another. She looked down at Amy, wondering if this was how her mother had felt. Was it simply the hope that her child would be happy and entertained for even a brief period that had driven Molly to bring Ava to a place like this? Or had she herself loved the titter of the waves, the giggles of rivulets and runnels as they played among the stones?

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, letting the sun warm her face, and soothe her hot, dry eyes. This was not that place, and certainly not that time, and she had things to do. Drawing in a breath, she forced it out through tight lips, packing her grief back down where it belonged, hiding behind her ribcage.

“All right, Amy,” she murmured, looking back down at her charge. To her surprise, the too-familiar stranger was looking at the water as well, and her gaze shifted as she followed a leaf wending its way between two larger stones before vanishing beneath the bridge that led the path over the stream. On a whim, Ava caught the leaf as it reappeared on the other side of the bridge, and brought the wet, slick fraction of broken foliage back, placing it in Amy’s hand.

The hand jerked away, at first, flinching from the cold droplets that slid down to darken the fabric of her dress, but then, with unexpected determination, it closed on the leaf, not quite tight enough to crush it. Uncertainly, Ava circled back around, crouching so she was looking up into Amy’s face. The other woman’s expression was blank again, her eyes distant, but the hand in her lap trembled as Ava rested her own on top of it.

“Amy?” Ava said. There was no response, except perhaps that the hand in her own stilled, just a bit. Ava lowered her voice. “Amy, just trust me. Please. Hold on a little longer.” She thought that the mossy gaze would turn to her, acknowledge her words, but nothing happened. When Ava raised her hand, the leaf fluttered away from Amy’s limp grasp.

So, Ava gathered clay.

Making something from the fresh, wet mud nearest the stream was impossible. It slid between her fingers like those long ago tadpoles, and dripped everywhere, making a mess of her clothes and arms. She quickly moved on to the deeper clay, digging beneath the surface to find something that reminded her of high school art class. This, she rolled into a ball, relieved to find that it did, indeed, hold together well enough to make… something. A sticky, lop-sided sphere, nothing more, but when she tried to place it into her inventory, it worked.

Mud Ball - a small, handmade ball of mud, such as a child might make.

That was it. No indication of quality or rarity, and though it didn’t actually matter, it practically made Ava’s teeth hurt because it was just another reminder that she was trapped in an avatar that wasn’t her own. As AlphaOmegadon, [Identify] was one of her best skills, since she needed to be able to tell the people who hired her whether the items they picked up were trash or treasure. As a mule, her primary job was to carry those items out, even if the rest of the party was killed, but her ability to immediately tell what something was, and whether it was cursed or magical, had helped her gain a reputation as one of the best mules in Veritas.

She focused on rolling another ball. She quickly found that if her hands were still covered in clay from the previous ball, chunks would stick to that and pull away from the new ball she was trying to form. But if she rinsed her hands and got new mud while they were still wet, the new ball dissolved into a slurry.

As a result, her skirt rapidly grew heavier with water and muddy clay wiped from her hands, but she didn’t care. She just rolled ball after ball, using [Enchant] to imbue each with a momentary flash of one of her other spells. At first, she failed as often as she succeeded, but soon enough she found a rhythm and a technique, and had a pile of muddy clay balls resting on the bank of the stream where she sat by Amy’s feet, no longer caring that she was wet and filthy.

[Enchant] is now level 5.

Ava groaned and wiped her forehead with her sleeve, freezing as she felt cool mud draw a chilly stripe against her skin. “Damn it,” she muttered, and someone giggled. Her head whipped around, and she stared at Petunia, who was standing behind her, brown hair gilded almost gold by the late morning sun. Quickly, Ava struggled to her feet, fighting the weight of her clay-heavy skirts. With a yelp, she tumbled backward, splashing ignominiously into the stream. A dozen silver minnows darted away from her, and she slapped the surface of the water in frustration, then just flopped back, laying her head on one bank, while her filthy feet were propped on a tussock of grass on the other side.

Petunia’s face was red from trying to hold back her laughter, and the girl seemed torn between holding out her hand to help Ava up and trying to keep her own clothes clean. She lifted her skirts and started to take a step forward, and Ava held up a hand.

“No, it’s all right. I’ve got it.” With a thought, she vanished her clothing into her inventory, leaving her clad only in the default undergarments that looked like a strapless tankini and covered all of the essentials. With the weight of the skirt gone, and without the extra fabric clinging to her legs, Ava was able to easily climb up out of the water.

She was so distracted by Petunia’s shocked gaze and futile attempts to use her own clothes to hide Ava’s legs that she almost missed the laughter dancing in Amy’s eyes. Indeed, it vanished so quickly that she almost thought she’d imagined it, except that she knew that laugh so well. She knew the tiny creases that folded at the corner of those eyes, knew the way the eyebrows winged up, and the way the light seemed to glimmer just a bit more brightly when it reflected back.

Petunia tugged at Ava’s arm. “Please, lady, you must get dressed. King Veralt has declared that all shall be clothed fully and respectably at all times. Even you may be held for judgment if a guard sees you.”

Ava sighed, turning her attention to the girl. “Yes, I know, all right,” she muttered. Since Amy was wearing Ava’s second split skirt, that only left her original dress in her inventory. She hated the tight bodice and layers of heavy skirts, but the tailor had told her about the ‘decency laws’ as well, so she knew the maid was right.

As easily as she’d removed her wet clothes, the clean ones appeared, and she instinctively tried to take a deep breath as she found her ribs compressed by the heavy brocade and tight lacing up the back. She hadn’t even realized why she hated the thing until she took it off, since her avatar had been wearing it when she logged in the first time, but it was hard to breathe in, and if she did anything that required any exertion at all, she got the Breathless debuff.

Petunia slumped with relief, and Ava frowned as she looked down at the girl’s head. Why was the maid acting so naturally? When they first met, she’d been as wooden and emotionless as the rest of the NPCs in the castle. What had changed? Was this Amythyst’s doing?

Cautiously, she patted Petunia’s shoulder. “I’m fine, and no one saw anything. Now, why are you here?”

“Oh!” The young maid’s head popped up, worry and relief both wiped away as if they’d never been. “Aspen said to call you for lunch, before anyone noticed you and Princess Amy were missing.”

Aspen? Why was someone who was supposed to be a gardener telling a maid what to do? Even if he was older than Petunia, he had no rank within the castle.

Petunia saw her confusion and blushed slightly, highlighting the faint, pale scars on her cheek. As if realizing Ava had noticed, she lifted a hand and touched them, ducking her head. “I know he’s just a gardener, but we’ve been chatting the last few days, and… I feel like I know him. Like he’s someone I can trust.”

Huh. Ava thought. Is that it? But Amythyst said she couldn’t change anything in town, so why would it matter who Aspen is talking to? She just nodded when Petunia looked up, though. “Yes, you can trust Aspen. Thank you for bringing me the message.”

Petunia bobbed a curtsey and seemed about to dart away, but hesitated, glancing from Ava to Amy.

“Do you need help? Getting the princess back?” she asked, hesitantly.

Ava’s first instinct was to say no, but the girl had helped her, and she seemed interested in the chair, and fascinated by Amy herself. Plus, while pushing the chair wasn’t exactly difficult, it was mostly uphill back to the main residence. All of ‘Lady’ Ava’s stats had been set to a flat twenty, even though she was level one, so she got winded just running around town.

“Sure,” she said, stepping away from the wheelchair. “Just push slowly, and if the wheels get caught on a rock or something, back up and go around. If you try to force it, you might tip the chair, or tilt it so Amy - I mean, Princess Amy - slides out.” The chair certainly wasn’t as well-balanced as a modern wheelchair, as Ava had already discovered.

Gingerly, Petunia grasped the handles, and her first push was so cautious that the chair barely rocked in place. Ava showed her how to turn Amy on the smooth bluestones, and soon enough the girl was so confident that Ava had to warn her to slow down as they reached a curve.

As they passed Aspen, who was still working on the row of rosebushes, he tapped the brim of his hat and smiled at the three of them.

::What did you do?:: Ava asked over party chat.

He shrugged, laying a withered flower on the ground beside him in a small pile of similarly wilted blossoms. ::I just started talking to her. I don’t know why, but it seems like the people here are starting to act more like the people in my Refuge.::

::Not everybody,:: Silus said, sounding disgruntled. ::The cooks always give me food at home, but here they just chase me out of the kitchens with brooms, if they notice me at all.::

Aspen was behind her now, so she couldn’t see him, but she heard the uncertainty in his voice as he replied, ::Everyone I talk to is… better. I assume Gina is doing something.::

The wheelchair stopped, and it took a moment for Ava to realize Petunia was waiting for her to open the door to Amy’s rooms. Stepping around the girl and Amy, Ava pulled open the door, and Petunia pushed the princess into the dim space beyond, leaving Ava to wonder exactly what was happening now, and how it was going to affect their plans.