61. Opera House (Patreon)

“I’m still astonished by your invitation.” I adjusted the dark-blue choker I was wearing that had been gifted to me. “Especially to this place.” My gaze wandered to the cylindrical building decorated by gold-covered balconies and ivy-laden stone sculptures.

“What do you mean? I am the pure representation of a fine lady.” Marissa said feigning offense. “If someone asks what a fine lady is, the collective consciousness will point at me.”

Marissa presumed over her learned theory on mind study related classes, I couldn’t even remember why I thought it was a good idea to present her to Kirielle. She wore a white dress, bursting with frills, and a translucid white-beige shawl that contrasted with her dark blue skin and matched her icy blue hair. I had simpler clothing, and I only wore a white tunic and dark leather gloves, plus my choker by Marissa’s suggestion, even if it seemed a bit of tune with the place.

“Whatever you say, milady.” I bowed slightly and used my advantage to grab her hand and kiss it. She blushed at the exchange. How funny it was to tease her.

“Whatever.” Marissa removed slowly her hand and avoided looking at me. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be late for the act.”

It was curious how she had matured over the years. From a hot-headed, battle-hungry mage, she transformed into an analytical scholar and an art enjoyer. That was what half a decade did to someone.

Five years had happened since the last events I told you about. Nothing else changed, as ellari were basically the polar opposite of change, but our appearance was considerably different. Marissa and I were no longer teenagers, but young adults at an age of thirty-three and thirty-one, respectively.

I was the one who stayed relatively the same. Sharper eyes and chin, pointier ears, and a moderate increase in height. I was currently taller than my father as I had become slightly above average in my stature. I hadn’t really measured myself in a long time, but if I had to guess, I would say I was around the two-meter-and-a-half mark. 

Marissa, on the other hand, hadn’t grown much taller, but her body did certainly mature. Ellari weren’t well dotted, to begin with, and Marissa wasn’t the exception. But none could deny the elegance of her slender yet curvaceous body. And she had finally grown her hair longer than mine.

As for magical terms, well, I didn’t manage to reach my goal to cast the mysteriously intricate ten-star spell on the authorless book. But I was getting close. As of late, per my research into the soul, I had put to the side the arcane. And whilst I was a nine-star mage in both my elements, no one would deny I had more mastery when it came to the spiritual. The disparity between my elements grew larger and larger every year. And meanwhile, my soul conserved its equilibrium, I could only spellcast low nine-star Arcane spells, but high nine-star Soul ones.

We were well ahead of our fellow students, with most of them struggling at the high eight-star spells. Marissa didn’t have much of an advantage as I did, as she was on the lower spectrum of the nine-star. But her progress was both astonishing and noteworthy.

“Which’s our sit? Which’s our sit?” Marissa mumbled in a melodious manner as she searched for our balcony. My eyes deviated toward the hypnotic movement of her hips.

… Aghh…

I slapped my own soul at such impertinence. The pain was unbelievable even to me. It seems teenager hormones still lingered in my body. Disgusting. Of all our group, I may be the one who had passed through puberty the last, the growth spout as of late confirmed that. Whilst it didn’t really affect me spiritually, my mind and body were compelled from time to time even if I wished otherwise.

“Something wrong?” Marissa asked totally unphased.

“Not a problem here.” I lied as I felt my face contorted because of the pain. It was better than a bucket of cold water but maddeningly more painful. “Have you found our sit yet?”

“On it.” She answered with unnecessary seriousness.

We obtained the tickets from a flight contest Marissa had participated in. It was the second-place prize, though I consider it way better because the first one was a recommendation to High Arcanist’s private guard. Which sounded like the world’s stupidest job to safeguard the strongest mage in the world.

The most surprising part of the whole event was the dignity Marissa had shown even when she had lost. Because I knew her, not being first was a loss in her books. She took her prize with a high head and didn’t burst out in anger even when the event was over.

“Here they are!” Marissa shouted in excitement.

Normally I would scoff at such a childish demeanor, but I was also excited at the great view that our place offered. This was worthy of a prestigious competition reward. Leather chairs, velvet carpets, and magically enhanced megaphones to have a better listen to the act.

“Can you remind me the name of the play?” I asked Marissa after sitting in the luxurious chair.

“Rumeu and Laliette.” She answered reading the ticket. “The synopsis said it was a tragic love story between a commoner ellari and a noble maiden.”

Even though it was the first time I heard about this play, it sounded awfully familiar. How could my forgotten memories dictate something original from another world? Maybe it was just a déjà vu and I was imagining things.

“Now, shut up. It’s about to start.” Marissa was greatly enthusiastic about this play.

What can I say, ellari did know how to make theatre. I was not a fan of musicals and things, but the fact they combined light and force magic to make the scenery more realistic made it incredible. Moving platforms followed by changing scenarios, dynamic lighting interchanging color palettes according to the time of the day at the play, and incredible special effects at something as mundane as a theater play. 

So that was where all the illusionists in the city were, eh? Making props for the rich minority. But what would they do anyways? If you wanted to play with someone’s mind, a mentalist would be far more effective at it. An illusionist was but the glorified showman of the magical world. 

The more I watched the events unfold and the songs being sung, the more of a familiar feeling I had with the play. I had seen it somewhere. How? I felt a disruption both in my soul and my mind. Those were two different things happening simultaneously, but I couldn’t identify which one was which.

The intermission came briefly after a dancing performance between the main characters. Once again, I didn’t know much about dancing, but doing so in mid-flight whilst on a wind platform, which wasn't precisely solid, was praiseworthy. I could only fly myself as well as I did because of Marissa, and I wasn’t even able to walk straight. Either way, arcane-based flight wasn’t as graceful or efficient as Wind or Force ones.

“That was amazing!” Marissa’s eyes glimmered as if she wanted to recreate the flighting dancing scene in the moonlight. It was artificial moonlight; they didn’t open a hole in the ceiling.

“Certainly, so.” I wasn’t an expert like her, but I could appreciate art, nonetheless.

We stayed in our seats as the intermission wasn’t that long. Marissa devoured the opera house’s floral decoration with her eyes. If common ellari were already over-decorated by the norm, imagine a place reserved for the high class. It was difficult putting it into words as there just was too much to see. I swore to the Lady that even the engravings on the arms of the chair had engravings of their own. I couldn’t understand how someone could withstand such levels of detail.

When the play resumed back and quickly but steadily reached its climax, I noticed the appearance of an interesting spell. In an act to help her lover, Laliette casted the Shadow Mend spell to bring him back to life. I once was told a long time ago that umbramancy was a predominant story element in poesy and theatrics. 

The gesture itself didn’t have any ulterior motive beyond being a Shadow spell being shoed in the play. But at least it didn’t feel forced as it was told before that Laliette was an umbramancer, even if she hadn’t used any magic before in the whole play.

“There’s a thing I don’t understand about the ending,” I told Marissa after the play had concluded and all the other guests already began making their way out. “Why did the guy didn’t check if the girl was alive?”

“It’s theatrics, Edrie.” She gave an invalid excuse. “Don’t worry about it too much.”

“But Rumeu is an arcanist, he could have literally checked the manaflows of Laliette’s body and see if she was alive instead of killing himself!”

“Shh…” Marissa put a finger on my mouth. “Don’t worry about the details, is all about the message. The idea of forbidden love~” Her analytical personality was overcome by the melodious happy girl.

“Whatever,” I told her. “The spectacle was enjoyable and that’s what matters.”

“You liked it, don’t act like it was acceptable.” Marissa poked my chest for her amusement. “Is the serious Edrie doing a pouting face?”

“Believe as you please.” I dismissed her toying and got up from my seat, not giving Marissa the pleasure of an answer.

We left the building in a controlled manner, there were hundreds of people inside and only one exit. But as we did so, we noticed a well-dressed man wearing a tuxedo talking to people on a stand.

“And remember, be free to participate in the prior reunion for the twentieth anniversary of the Wyrm’s Landing organized by the Offensive Coalition. The reunion will take place two months before the fateful day, then we will be finally ready!” The man bowed to the multitude gathered around him.

Though the Offensive Coalition had obtained quite a reputation after almost two decades since the dome’s inception, that wasn’t what interested me. I looked at the man at the stand, it appeared to be your typical bourgeois, maybe a bit less rich and pompous than the nobles that flooded the place, but I knew better. I recognized his soul signature.

This man was the one giving pamphlets ten years ago during my gap year, the one who tried to recruit me into their cult-like movement. Quite a change from his position, both geographically and politically. He still had that ruthless and smug mirth on his face. That was the main reason why I had tagged his soul back then, to never see him again. Jokes on me, so much time had happened that I had forgotten about him and only noticed him after I had it next to me.

Also, he had ascended quite a lot, as the people now giving pamphlets were many, and he was clearly on top of them in the hierarchy. Though I wasn't knowledgeable about their inner structure.

“Those on Offensive Coalition are such a pain in the ass.” Marissa commented in a non-lady way after she noticed I was looking at the spokesperson.

“Yeah, I know.” I kind of forgot about those guys, no longer a bloodthirsty cult-like group, but a full-blown political movement. “I have a bad feeling about this.” As of late, the souls around Ferilyn felt darker, more oppressed, and unnerved, as we had returned to that day, twenty years ago. Yet nothing had happened. And that worried me more.

If they were going to do something, it would be at that reunion of the twentieth year since the Wyrm’s Landing as he had said. And I wasn’t expecting anything good from it.