As expected, Sabrina zips into the room via conveniently open window."Cladissa, if you-" she begins, only to notice the present company in the room and stop abruptly. After inspecting everyone in the room for a few seconds, the whirlwind instead says, "I'll come back later; this doesn't look like the best time."
"Yes, let us allow this reunion to proceed without our interruption," Argor says as he floats out of the room behind Sabrina, watching as Rutai flies from the window on his errand.
Cladissa shakes her head. "Wait! Don't go yet," she calls. Then she formally presents the newcomer with a sweep of her hand. "Allow me to introduce Lady Tessida Farwynd, of Taldor. And my mother."
She then steps over to where the air elemental is hovering. "Mother, this is Sabrina Churchill, druid, shapeshifter, and our most recent team member."
The Lady Farwynd bows politely. "My pleasure." Taking notice of Sabrina's urgencywhen she arrived, she looks between the two. "Is this a pressing matter? I came unannounced, so I understand if you require Cladissa."
The younger witch blinks and looks at her mother in surprise.
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"...I'm actually Sabrina Henderson; (I recently changed my surname.) However, all the other points are true. It's a pleasure to meet you too, Lady Farwynd," Sabrina says with her own polite bow and remarkable restraint. "As for why I'm here, it's not... extremely urgent or anything. It can wait a little while."
::...It actually might be a little pressing, but that's just my opinion. If I could have an hour of your time tonight, I would deeply appreciate it, Classy. I just want to talk; I'd say more now, but I'd rather not distract you::
Cladissa's head bobs up and down, understanding. "All right. Later, then."
Deciding upon a cozy sitting parlor, Cladissa and her mother sit down in upholstered chairs as the servant staff prepare a light repast and serve drinks. A bottle of Galtan bordeaux is opened, and Lady Farwynd looks at the label and approves.
"So, go ahead and tell me. What are their names? Where are they from?" Cladissa begins.
Her mother looks at her puzzled. "I'm sorry?"
"The marriage candidates, Mom. You might as well show them to me."
The Lady Farwynd shakes her head and sets down her glass. She leans forward. "There are none. No more arranged marriages. Though, I do hope you plan to get married some day. You're 26, which in some circles is getting past--"
"I know! Don't you think I know that?" she throws her hands up in exasperation. "Argor's getting married in a few days. All around me is wedding this, wedding that. And I'm--" Cladissa cuts herself off before saying too much.
Her mother, however, bores her gaze into her. "You're what?"
She meets her gaze, jaw set. "I'm too busy to look for a husband."
Lady Farwynd doesn't look convinced that that's all it is, but she jumps on the opportunity. "Then let me help--"
Cladissa cuts her off again, clearly emboldened by her earlier success. "No! You lost your chance. I'll figure something out on my own." She stands, draining her glass. "I'm going to check on Sabrina. You can stick around or have Ms. Fecht escort you out." She strides ou of the parlor and heads to the druid's favorite part of the garden.
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"From what you said about her before," Sabrina begins when Cladissa arrives, "I was a tad surprised to see your mom here."
And given how reality likes to gut-punch you, I don't see her presence here ending well. Something smells, and it isn't Rutai.
Sabrina smiles lightly.
"Well, I won't dilly dally. I wanted to apologize for my... remark about the clerics and what happened to them," Sabrina says as sincerely possible. "It was extremely insensitive of me to say that about anyone, but in particular, it was a horrible thing to say to you, Cladissa. Again, I'm very sorry."
She pauses briefly to think over her next words.
"On a related note, I also want to apologize for dragging you to a luncheon with my probably ex-friend Auronee," says Sabrina. She sounds a little more... disgruntled about this second subject, though Cladissa can easily tell that it is not directed at her. "It must have been an uncomfortable reminder of... a prior... event that I recently learned about."
Sabrina sighs and shakes her head in disappointment.
"I have no idea why she would lie to me like that. Just so casually! Auronee knows darn well I don't like liars and their lying. Now I'll always be questioning everything she says to me. I guess... she was too good to be true. Figures." [1]
Cladissa first looks surprised at the sudden apology, as if she had never expected suchba thing, especially coming from the druid. Then she looks puzzled, clearly not knowing what prior incident Sabrina is referring to. Lastly, she looks completely mortified about Auronee. "What!?! No! Don't stop being her friend on account of me! Oh, gods, please don't!"
When she continues about her lying, Cladissa sits down, stunned. "It wasn't you. I'm sure she saw through my disguise somehow. I've never been able to fool her. Her comments were directed at me. You may as well not have even been there."
Cladissa's day had gone topsy-turvy, and she looks ready to scream. She grabs her invisible horns with each hand and shakes her head back and forth, groaning. After a moment, she settles down, looking dejected. "Do what you want, but please, not because of me. I hear Auronee can be a very good friend." Her hands fall to her sides and her shoulders slump.
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"...Figures I'd make things worse," Sabrina grumbles to herself.
She flies over to Cladissa's side and lowers herself to the ground.
"I see. Well, I'll... heavily consider your words. It's just... the seed of doubt isn't easily removed once planted. Or however the silly saying goes."
Sabrina breaths deeply.
"To clarify, I heard about the... dinner. I'm just so... confused. Argor's been nothing but a good host, and even if he probably thinks I belong in an asylum, he's at least been civil toward me. Auronee is... probably the closest thing I have to a best friend. To think they'd go to such insane lengths to humiliate you for seemingly no reason or gain..."
The Naga Aspirant wonders what Yig thinks of her feeble attempts to reach out to Cladissa.
"It's... weird, isn't it? Everything effort I make to reach out to you or make you feel better seems to backfire... I know I've said before, but I'm sincerely sorry. It has never been my intention to cause you so much stress."
Cladissa stares dumbfounded. Her eyes are wide in shock, her left twitching a couple times. "You-- you found out about that dinner!?! Why would you-- I can't even--" She buries her face into her hands.
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Sabrina decides to stop fluffing up her word count; if it never works for Argor, than it probably would not work for her.
"I was concerned about you," Sabrina explains, somehow managing to stay remarkable collected. "You were so distressed around Auronee, and... I got worried, so I looked into it... and I don't know what else to say."
Sabrina (somehow) gulps nervously.
"I was concerned about you," she repeats. "I have no ulterior motives. I'm just concerned for a... friend."
Even she has to admit that such feelings are rather foreign to her.
She stands up, eyes red, trembling. "Are you?!? Truly? How do I know Auronee didn't put you up to this? Is this her game? To make me feel awful for breaking up one of her friendships?"
She pounds her breastbone. "I'm not the bad guy here! She's horrible to me! You'll never understand, so just go ahead and laugh! Go, tell her how great you both did at-- at--"
She stops in mid-rant as the idiocy of her paranoia strikes her. She looks sick, horrified, and her hand flies to her mouth. "Oh, gods, I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Sabrina, I shouldn't have--" Tears stream down her face and she looks ready to bolt in panic.
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"It's okay, Cladissa," Sabrina replies carefully. "It's okay. I'm not angry with you. Just... take a moment. I'll wait."
If Cladissa gives her that moment and stays, Sabrina continues slowly and as sincerely as she can muster.
"I'm not... trying to make you feel awful; I just... want you to know that I care. You're such a wonderful, fun, lovely, intelligent person, Cladissa."
Sabrina shuffles nervously in midair, trying to figure out what else she can say.
"I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt you."
"I'm a failure," she says quietly. "My mother is... difficult. And she married Auronee's father. She hated me from the start. It's really hard to explain it so that it makes sense." she shrugs, looking dejected.
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...Poor Classy.
Sabrina floats closer to her friend.
"...That's silly, Cladissa. You've succeeded on every single mission the Society has given you. And before you use your Exam as proof of your failure, just remember that Argor Constantine also 'failed' his."
Sabrina nods sympathetically as Cladissa tells her about her issues with her family.
"I think I understand. At least a little. Growing up, my parents always favored my little sister Setsuna. It drove me nuts. No matter what I did, they always fluffed up her accomplishments while downplaying my own. I... left home because of it. I... wish I could say that there's a happy ending here, but..."
Sabrina sighs.
"I don't think any of us are particularly happy about how that whole mess has played out," the Naga Aspirant admits quietly.
She looks sympathetically at Cladissa.
"And despite it all, I've accomplished a lot. In my opinion, so have you, Classy."
Completely spent emotionally, Cladissa wipes her eyes and resignedly stands up. She takes a few steps toward the house. Pausing, she looks over her shoulder. "I've got a lot to process. And a conniving mother who I need to tend to."
She starts to move on, but she pauses. After a moment's thought, she adds, "Thank you for your efforts to make me feel better. Not many people would. I'm sorry I'm so screwed up that I mess it all up."
===========
"Is everything okay?" her mother asks when Cladissa drags herself into the parlor.
Cladissa collapses into one of the upholstered chairs and immediately reaches for a glass and pours herself a drink. She groans.
"I see. Perhaps it's best that I come by again later. Or better yet, you can come to the Taldor embassy. I'm staying in one of the villas just outside. We can continue this later."
The Lady Farwynd rises and nods stiffly to Cladissa, who mutely assents.
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Before Cladissa goes, Sabrina calls out, "Cladissa, if you ever want to talk about something, I'll listen."
Sabrina watches her friend go and finally releases her mostly composed posture. Bentley trots up to his own "mother" and snorts.
"...That could've gone better," Sabrina murmurs with a sigh as she flies onto Bentley's back, "but it also could've gone a lot worse. Poor Classy. Auronee really must've done a number on her."
Bentley grunts.
"I really don't know if I want to associate with Auronee anymore! It isn't just childhood squabbles between them! Anyone who bullies family to the point of repeated nervous breakdowns is..."
Sabrina stops before she can finish her sentence.
"Geez, why do I care so much? ...Am I projecting myself and Setsu onto those two?"
Bentley utters a low growl.
"...I need to talk to someone about this issue. Someone who knows Cladissa well. Someone grounded and logical. Someone who usually has a good grasp on their emotions. Someone..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Sabby's Bizarre Adventure~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I can't believe I'm going to try and talk to Argor Constantine.
While part of her still wanted to turn into a Fire Elemental and burn down his house for what he did to Cladissa (again, why did this bother her so much?), Sabrina also remembers Nyugelle mentioning that Argor had shown a rather strong concern for her health before she had exploded. He had arranged for Hrim's passage to see his ailing grandfather and asked for nothing in return. Only recently did it seem like he and Cladissa reached the current low in their relationship, which implied that Classy had given him a few chances Post-Dinner. By Yig, he even seemed to at least tolerate Gianluca despite their ideological clashes.
And most importantly, Argor let Sabrina raid his pantry with impunity!
Trying to superimpose that grumpy but ultimately somewhat civil and decent man with the loon who engineered a social trap for a supposed friend with her lifelong bully for seemingly no reason...
Dinner and Stinky Imp aside, I wonder what he's done to warrant an 'evil' soul. Yig knows I've done worse, and apparently, I've somehow 'redeemed' myself.
Sabrina finds the Wordy Wizard easily enough; wedding planning aside, he seems to be available more than she would expect.
"Hello, Argor. Do you have a minute?"
Sabrina finds Argor in his private office, hovering in front of a window and looking out over the city, his arms folded behind him. When she makes her presence known, he turns his head and regards her with an arched eyebrow.
What is this about?
He gestures towards a pair of armchairs near the window, an unseen force moving them so that they face one another at an angle, yet remain somewhat facing a window. "Certainly. I currently find myself with a rare unclaimed moment of my time."
He hovers towards one of the chairs, landing and walking the final half of the intervening distance as he waits for his houseguest to have a seat. As Sabrina steps away from the door, it closes as if under its own power.
Rutai is gone for some time on his search.
Dreng pauses to let that sink in, while he rummages through papers on his desk. "Ah!" he says, extracting a rolled up scroll. "This is a scroll of sending. I don't expect an answer right away, but please think about my offer and send me a response when you're ready. Travel well, Hrimnagel Avaldaemon. It has been an honor."
Hrim is stunned into a quieter silence than normal. Then, his reply is louder in excitement than his usual small, thin voice, "Venture Captain? I would be honored. The Society is where I've always wanted to be." They continue to chat a bit about the role and responsibilities. At the end of the brief, Hrim tucks the scroll of sending and two code books into his haversack. They shake hands, and he departs in a much better mood.
On his way to the shrine of Count Ranalc to say goodbye to Madame Batbongle, his altitude unconsciously descends as it dawns on him that as a Venture Captain, he would not return to Absalom to live. Up until then, he had always planned to return to the Freaks and his new home. But, now he appears ready to start another self-imposed exile from a home. His conversation with Madame Batbongle is much more morose than the his excitement for the position of VC should have provided. They decide that he should stop by the estate one last time before his departure. His goodbyes will be for a much longer duration than a simple return visit home.
He returns to Argor's estate in time for tea. After securing his usual small place setting, he clears his throat to attract attention to his shadows and announces to the Freaks in attendance, "I've a bit of news. It appears that my departure will be much longer than I had planned. The Society has offered me the post of Venture Captain to start a lodge in my home town of Dwimovel. So, if I return to Absalom, it will probably only be for a visit."
Cladissa gasps in delight at Hrim's promotion, but then the realization that he'll be leaving for good sets in. "Hrim, that's wonderful, but so sad! I'm going to miss you so much."
She wars with her mixed emotions at his joyous news and the sorrow of his departure. "I promise I'll come visit. I can see in the dark now, so it'll be easy! What's Dwimovel like?"
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After taking a few seconds to stare at the self-closing door in fascination, Sabrina floats over to the offered chair and settles herself down.
"Apologies for the whirlwind form; as you are likely aware, my Second Mutation made me bigger than a stone giant," Sabrina begins lightly.
Unlike talking with Cladissa, more details are probably better when speaking with Argor.
"I'm worried about Cladissa," she starts slowly, basically getting to the point. "It might just be me, but I've noticed she has... almost crippling (albeit justified) issues with anxiety and paranoia. She has very little confidence in herself."
Sabrina shuffles a bit in her seat; granted, she is currently a living whirlwind.
"I only know bits and pieces of what happened with Nyug, but I fear history might repeat itself shortly with Cladissa... I'm starting to worry that she's going to break soon. Right now, she's juggling all of this... trauma by herself. Hrim has left, you're a very busy man, Gianluca and I are basically strangers to her, and Nyugelle doesn't seem to have fully recovered from her... untimely demise."
Sabrina pauses briefly, wondering what else she can say.
"My attempts to reach out to her have ended... They could've gone better. Hence I'm not sure what exactly I can do going forward. However, doing nothing and watching her implode seems... less than optimal. Do you have any... insights here, Argor?"
Argos sits quietly as Sabrina discusses her concerns regarding Cladissa's nearby nonexistent self esteem. When she asks for his insight, he sighs and replies, "This is an observation I had made regarding Cladissa since our time as initiates in the Society. It all stems from the lack of familial support she experienced in her youth. Despite my repeated attempts to encourage what little spark of self confidence that remains and occasionally reveals itself, little has managed to develop. Her continued ire for me serves as a blockade against me in her mind. Shortly before your and Gianluca's arrival, I had thought we might finally be moving on in that regard, but his announcement of his primitive and narrow minded ideology regarding my 'nature' would appear to have negated all progress that was made in those endeavors. As such," Argor says with an inquisitive look on his face, "it does strike me as odd that you would turn to the one person of the group she holds the most resentment for in an effort to seek aid for the young witch..."
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"You strike me as one of the more observant and the single most rational person on our team. In the past, you've taken steps to address issues within the ranks; I don't know if anyone else has," Sabrina explains sincerely. "Moreover, with Hrim leaving and Nyugelle being something of a recluse these days, I thought you would be a... good, insightful person to speak with."
Sabrina takes a moment to think over what to say about Cladissa.
"I... think she has a bad habit of interpreting things in the worst way possible. When we spoke, to avoid losing her, I had to eventually cut my words to the bare minimum without being blunt and make them as positive and simplistic as possible. She also interpreted comments directed at others as directed at herself."
Sabrina sighs heavily.
"...May I ask why you two... clash so often?" she asks before quickly adding, "I mean, other than maybe your choice in familiar, I'm struggling to see why. Contrary to what Gianluca says, you strike me as a true gentleman and a steadfast ally to have."
Sabrina admits that she might be dressing up her actual opinion of him a bit, but other than The Dinner (which Cladissa seemed willing to forgive?) and the Stinky Imp, she is grasping at straws for reasons to outright hate Argor Constantine.
Argor folds his hands across his lap. "I would prefer not to speak of anything that would create any further dissection within the team. That being said, I do not appreciate always being portrayed as the villain of the group, when I feel I have been more than generous with my associates."
"I will be frank with you, Sabrina. I speak my mind freely, and see no reason to bury my thoughts behind a cloud of words designed to do anything more than hide my true thoughts on the subject. I understand I am, at times, verbose, but as my mind has continued to expand, I find it more and more complicated to rein in my enhanced vocabulary. However, when I do speak, you can trust in the fact that I mean what I say. That being said, Cladissa has repeatedly disapproved of my blunt nature, as well as my observations on situations we have found ourself in. Also, she has a knack of not realizing the barbs within her own words."
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"...Fair enough; I can respect such sound reasoning," Sabrina answers with a nod of understanding. "As for your second point, I agree. I don't think you get enough credit for your generosity, so... thank you. You're a gracious host, Argor."
She listens intently to the rest of Argor's speech.
"...I appreciate honesty," she says in response, "so your... manner of speech is fine by me. I guess I'm... an odd one there. I tend to focus more on actions more than words."
Sabrina decides to refocus her focus; as seemingly patient as Argor is, he would probably appreciate something a little more concrete than philosophical discussion.
"I would like a second opinion on something: should I leave Cladissa to stew on her own, or should... continue making efforts to help her? As I said, I'm worried that she's going to crash, and it could happen at the worst possible time. For example, when those demons rear their ugly mugs again."
Rutai flies into the parlor where Sabrina and Argor are having their discussion of Cladissa's woes. "Hey, Boss, Sabrina. I went to the Blakros estate and inquired after the mistress, as you requested. Seems she retired to a family ranch outside Diobel. Her cousins made it seem like she might not be too happy with you, sir. I mean...do you even know the venue of your own wedding? She seems to feel you are more interested in your work than in getting married to her. The wedding is supposed to be in a couple days...." Rutai trails off. "I don't want to step out of place, but maybe you should go and see her, sir?"
Hrim was happy that he had a chance to say goodbye to Cladissa. "Well first, Dwimovel is hard to find. The entrances and exits are randomly blocked and concealed. If visitors cannot teleport inside, they wait for the city guard to unseal one of the known entrances. The city's defenses have withstood the attacks of many armies.
"It's much, much smaller than Absalom, less than a tenth the size, but it still shelters the heart and soul of my race. There's lakes and rivers, and since we're underground many buildings are anchored to the ceiling. So, our city goes up and down as much as side to side like Absalom. We don't have the sky or weather like here, and it's much warmer than it is here. The elemental plane of fire is nearby . There are gardens and parks with flowers and plants that enjoy darkness. We deep gnomes naturally work and speak to stone, so our structures and decorations evolve with our imaginations.
"While you would enjoy visiting, I suspect you would not want to live there. Most surfacers cannot adjust to the lack of sky and the difference in diet. Once I get setup, I'll come get you for a visit. Since it's difficult to magically find me, it would be the easiest solution."
"Cladissa, I hope you continue to look for a divine patron who can settle and protect your restless soul. After much research, perhaps Shelyn might be a good fit for you. Her doctrine is about recognizing the beauty within people, which I think would help your good nature adapt to your shifting exterior. But, I won't push you.
Argor pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Clearly, I am not the person to consult in regards to the machinations of the female mind. Particularly Cladissa's. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor, but clearly there is something I must address."
Argor sends Rutai after Reginald. Once the aged butler arrives, Argor says, "Gather some clothes and arrange for a carriage to transport me to the Blakros ranch near Diobel."
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"Sounds like you do," Sabrina partially concedes, somewhat baffled that a supposed genius world-class intellect like Argor still does not have everything ready for a wedding possibly set for a mere two days in the future.
The Wild Shaped druid lifts off of her chair.
"Thank you for your insights," says Sabrina as she exits the room.
She contemplates adding some more snark such as: "And I hope your wedding goes better than the last social event you planned." However, Yig's Champion ultimately holds her tongue. From the sounds of things, Argor would probably hold such remarks against her until the day she died, and part of her suspects that he is the type of person to engineer such a thing.
Granted, Argor had not been completely useless unhelpful. Now she suspected that Cladissa had likely said something to him that he had taken as a horrible "barb" and seen it fit to humiliate her in turn. Admittedly, Sabrina is not entirely certain that's what happened, but she would be willing to bet money on the odds that her theory is correct.
Sabrina tracks down some paper and writing stick. After many mad minutes, she has a letter ready.
I know I've already said it a bunch of times, but I'm truly sorry for all the stress I've put you through lately; it was never my intention hurt you in any way. If there is anything I can do to make amends, please tell me.
In my experience, enduring everything by yourself is... difficult. If you ever need assistance of any kind, please feel free to talk to me, and I will do what I can to help. A burden shared is a burden halved, and I have a strong back.
You're a wonderful, fun, lovely, intelligent person, Cladissa.
Sincerely,
Sabrina
Sabrina notes that the last line is kind of... out of place? By itself, the penultimate line is already quite a zinger. However, she thinks that it would be good for Cladissa to hear such remarks. It seems like everyone from Auronee to Tessida to Argor is fond of using her like a punching bag or a prop to further themselves.
...Is that latter thing any different than what I'm doing right now? Sabrina wonders for a second.
She stirs on the thought; objectively speaking... maybe?
However, she doubts that Auronee, Tessida, or Argor have ever intended to put Cladissa before themselves. In fact, have they ever made making someone else happy their main priority while standing to gain little or nothing in return?
...Maybe Auronee if she truly values Sabrina as a friend and does not see the Naga Aspirant as another...
Honestly, she can't say much about Cladissa's mother other than maybe she has been highly neglectful.
A cynic would say that Argor only helped when he stood to benefit from it. He had ultimately gained something from helping Nyug and Hrim; he has a skilled alchemist on his payroll and a venture captain who owed him a favor.
And to be honest, Sabrina didn't expect any real "reward" for helping Cladissa.
Sabrina enters Cladissa's "office" and puts the letter somewhere that her maybe friend will see it immediately; she takes care to anchor the paper so it doesn't blow away or get lost like in some silly story or something.
"...Hey, Cole. Since you're probably watching me right now like a cat would, please make sure Classy gets this letter. Right now, I don't know if she has anyone willing to help sans you and me."
With her piece said, Sabrina exits through the open window that Cladissa seems to love leaving open for her.
Cladissa listens with rapt attention at Hrim's description of Dwimovel. The place sounded strange and wondrous, and her imagination had to work to envision what an underground city full of Hrimnagels could be like. She nods vigorously at the prospects of a visit. "I'd love that. Thank you," she replies.
She's less enthusiastic at the suggestion of Shelyn. Her soul-crushing formative years had her convinced that the goddess would have shunned her as much if not more than Auronee herself. Even after excising that self-doubting part of her, she couldn't help but feel somewhat presumptuous about trying to seek favor from the goddess of beauty. Moreso even now, having had this gorgeous form imposed upon her by demons, no less. However, Hrim's words about seeing beauty inside a person made some sense, so she nods in acquiescence. "Well, maybe. I'm not sure if she'll accept me much. This," she waves her hand in front of her face and chest, "isn't inside. And it's not what you'd call good, even if some find it beautiful."
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Before she heads out, Sabrina realizes that she made a small mistake in her letter to Cladissa and rushes to fix it.
I know I've already said it a bunch of times, but I'm truly sorry for all the stress I've put you through lately; it was never my intention to hurt you in any way. If there is anything I can do to make amends, please tell me.
In my experience, enduring everything by yourself is... difficult. If you ever need assistance of any kind, please feel free to talk to me, and I will do what I can to help. A burden shared is a burden halved, and I have a strong back.
You're a wonderful, fun, lovely, intelligent person, Cladissa.
Sincerely,
Sabrina
"Typos. Bleh," she mumbles to herself before leaving for real.
Cladissa wakes the next morning wondering how much of the prior night had been a surreal nightmare. Her mother, here, seeking reconciliation? Did she really blow up at Sabrina after she brought up that horrible dinner party? After a few moments of wallowing in despair, her mid-morning appointment forced her to don her disguise of her old form and venture out again into the streets of Absalom and focus on her big project.
===================
It was well after noon when she returns to Verde Heights, mentally taxed from her diplomatic efforts, but feeling somewhat buoyed by the response she's been getting. She knew the opposition would eventually grow, but for the moment she savored these initial victories.
Furthermore, her project had been a welcome distraction from her mother and her troubles with Sabrina. Returning to the manor was nerve-wracking; she still couldn't believe she'd accused the new recruit of such a plot. It may have been more plausible if Sabrina hadn't actually taken the formula. But turning one's self into a giant, two-headed lizard woman was an extreme length to go to prank someone on someone else's behalf.
That unassailable logic meant that Cladissa had rather unfairly accused a teammate and probably ruined whatever potential friendship she may have had with the woman. Furthermore, she was likely far more traumatized by her mutations that she'd been letting on. So for the entire flight back to Verde Heights, Cladissa had been wondering how she could possibly make it up to Sabrina.
And winnowing at the edges of those thoughts, of course, was her mother. What could she possibly be doing back in Absalom? She couldn't begin to fathom her intentions this time, especially since she'd professed to want to make amends and become... what? It was all too surreal.
The manor was surprisingly empty when she arrived. Argor had apparently flown off somewhere, Gianluca and Nyug were off someplace unknown, and Sabrina's usual whirlwind shape was similarly not to be found. She went to her appointed chambers and was ready to drop her disguise and maybe request another scalding hot bath be prepared when she sees a note from Sabrina set upon her desk.
Her hands tremble when she picks it up and reads it, expecting a stern dressing-down of her paranoia and attitude. Much to her surprise, it was quite the opposite -- an apology from the druid and an offer to help ease her burdens. She reflexively distrusts it -- there's no reason Sabrina should be asking for forgiveness when instead she should be demanding it from her. She reads the letter several times, disbelieving.
Finally, Cladissa is forced to conclude that -- if her words are to be believed -- Sabrina still likes her and wishes to be friends. Having steeled herself for the worst, she felt a rather large weight lift from her shoulders.
She almost felt strong enough to deal with her mother.
============================
With Argor gone that afternoon, Cladissa clears it with Reginald to have her mother over for a formal meal. With the place emptied as it seemed to be, it apparently would not be much of a burden to place on the household to have the Lady Farwynd as a guest for a meal. She didn't feel quite like going out, and eating at the large dining hall meant that any of the Pathfinders could join the meal.
Cladissa's mother arrives a bit ahead of the appointed time, and the two go to the parlor for a private chat.
"Feeling better, are we?" the Lady Farwynd begins, noticing an improvement in her daughter's demeanor this evening.
"A bit. Thank you for noticing," Cladissa responds stiffly, still guarded.
The viscountess gives her daughter a long, stern look, then sighs and shakes her head. "Don't be petulant. It's unbecoming."
Cladissa looks at her mother incredulously. "Unbecoming?" Then how would you suggest I take this?"
"With a modicum of grace. You've achieved your objective. I would expect you to show a little gratitude."
Cladissa rubs her eyes and blinks hard. "No, Mother. This isn't about you and me winning or losing some kind of strange contest. I've made enemies, some of whom are extraordinarily powerful. Some of whom have promised to harm those I care about. My family."
The Lady Farwynd looks at Cladissa evenly. "And you just now decide to relay this information?"
She makes a disgusted sound. "No! I decided to use our current estrangement to keep you safe! And now you want to come back in my life, as what? I don't understand what you want, or what you hope to gain, especially since it's putting you in danger!"
"I want to simply be a part of your life! After all, you've decided to take control of it fully, haven't you? Injecting strange substances into you, allowing yourself to be this... this..." she gestures at Cladissa's apparent fur and feathered wings.
She looks down at her fur disguise and her anger dies almost instantly. Looking back up at her mother, resolutely, she taps her forehead. "I love this, Mother. It's me, now. You want to be part of my life? You accept this. I have."
The Lady Farwynd stares long and hard at her. Her face is lined, cross and stern, but is met with Cladissa's even gaze. Finally, she nods. "Very well. I shall." She stands, and crosses the distance between the two of them. Cladissa though still slips away from Tessida's attempted embrace.
There's a look of actual hurt on her mother's face, and Cladissa opens her mouth to say something when Reginald clears his throat at the entryway. "Excuse me, ladies, but dinner is ready. And there is someone arrived at the entry."
Cladissa almost asks if Argor's back yet, but she quickly concludes that he isn't, or he is still getting ready because otherwise Reginald would be informing him. She nods, then follows him to the grand entryway, the Lady Farwynd following a step or two behind.
When the three reach the grand entrance hall of Verde Heights, they see in the approach a man in resplendent field plate armor astride a glossy red destrier. As the gate and doors open, the man turns his steed, heavy hooves ringing loudly on the cobblestone walk as he bids it trot straight to the entrance. There, above the butler and the two ladies, the man salutes, then removes his plumed helm revealing a dashingly handsome man with a chiseled jaw and a wavy mane of red-gold hair. The only mar to his beauty is a scar that runs across his left cheek to just above his neck. Cladissa quickly recognizes the longsword-upon-a-sunburst symbol of Iomedae.
The man dismounts in a smooth, practiced motion. He pats the heavy warhorse a few times and speaks a word of divine power and the great equine fades away -- displaced into a holy plane of existence. Once the horse is gone the man turns to those in the entrance hall of Verde Heights. With a flourish and bow, he announces himself. "I am Sir Preston Riverwyne, paladin of Iomedae, knight-captain of Mendev, Third Nerosyan Company. I come to extend the most esteemed gratitude and thanks of Hulrun of Kenebres and her majesty herself, Queen Galfrey of Mendev, for the efforts of the Pathfinders of Absalom, known as the Freaks, in their securing most needed aid in repelling the demonic threat."
A silent pause strikes the occupants of Verde Heights, while the newcomer scans those greeting him. Sir Riverwynd bows formally to each, his eyes lingering long on Cladissa. His eyes glance to the Lady Farwynd who nods once, and he looks back to Cladissa with a dashing smile.
He steps directly in front of her and draws his gleaming longsword that sends a clean ring echoing throughout the grand entrance. Before anyone can react, he lays it at her feet and kneels in front of her. "I have read the Pathfinder Chronicles which speaks of your great works here in the City of Absalom. Your deeds -- and those of your companions -- have served as an inspiration to me." He reaches into a pouch and pulls out a silver and gold brooch and holds it in front of Cladissa. "Would that you accept this token of my esteem, and grant me permission to court thee?"
Awestruck, the witch stares at the paladin holding out the ornate trinket for a lengthy moment as her thoughts race. Then a current of anger begins flowing up an down her spine. "Excuse me," she says politely to the armored man bowing before her. Then she looks at the Lady Farwynd with eyes blazing in fury. "Mother, may I see you for a moment privately?"
Hrim frowns, even if Cladissa cannot see his facial expression. "Cladissa, Count Ranalc has shown me your soul. And, it's good. So, I think I have a better perspective on how you look on the inside than you. And according to my research, it is the soul of a person that Shelyn accounts. She would welcome you."
"While I want to, I don't have time anymore to hold your hand through a search for a divine patron. As I've said before, I believe you would be well served by a divine patron who can clarify many of the uncertainties that loom large in your life. With that, I shall preach no more. I wish you all the best, Cladissa, and look forward to your visits and correspondence if we can arrange."
Hrim does not want to push fragile Cladissa too far and leave on a bad memory, so he's ready to close the conversation and depart.
Cladissa nods, deciding not to argue anymore. Her eyes brim with tears as the deep gnome says his goodbyes, and the tears flow freely as she gives him a strong embrace. "Best of luck to you, Hrimnagel," she bids, catching one last whiff of that comforting limestone scent.
As the shadows again surround the deep gnome and he disappears, she waves in random directions for a while then turns to go back inside, feeling more alone than she had in a long time.
===================
"What the hell is this?" Cladissa hisses at her mother after they stepped away, leaving Sir Preston Riverwyne kneeling awkwardly. "I thought you said no arranged weddings!"
The Lady Farwynd scowls. "If you'd paid attention, he is courting you. This was not arranged by me."
"Then what is he doing here? How do you know him?"
"It was a happy coincidence. We sailed on the same ship to Absalom. He was going to meet you anyway, in thanks for the aid you secured for the Crusade. We... spoke."
Cladissa gives one last glare at her mother, then stamps out her anger and returns to her position in front of the still-kneeling paladin. He looks up and smiles as she stands in front of him.
She was about to dismiss him outright, but she pauses and studies him. Her pulse quickens as she notes that he is exceedingly handsome, with vibrant green eyes and high cheekbones. Clean-shaven, his light smile showed a genuine earnestness as he looked at her. "Cladissa Velorryan, your heroics have saved my life and the lives of many others. I have read of your deeds in the Pathfinder Chronicles. Your mother says that you have been trained in the old tradition of courtship, as have I. I humbly petition for your favor."
Cladissa swallows her initial words, and the old ritual, ingrained during her youth, bubbles to the forefront of her mind. Though she still wanted to put a stop to this, she freezes. Then the words flow from her almost unbidden. "What is thy lineage, sir knight?"
The paladin's smile broadened. "I am the third son of Phillip Riverwyne, grandson of Dorian Riverwyne, and great-grandson of Prestor Riverwyne, who was Lord Mayor of Wyne, in the Carpenden Plains, Andoran," he says clearly.
"What token do you choose to present with your request for courtship?" Cladissa feels her mother's intense attention behind her.
Sir Preston holds the brooch higher. "The brooch of my mother, Elara Echebel, daughter of Tegge Echebel, citizen of Arthfell, Andoran, passed down from her grandmother, Iona Dyamede."
"And by what oaths do you swear?" Cladissa's heart begins to thud heavily in her chest.
"By the Inheritor, to whom I have sworn my life in service. By Andoran, the home of my fathers. By Golarion, the world in need of champions. And by Shelyn, that she may guide our hearts to love."
Her heart races. Am I really doing this? She wants to faint. She wants to run. Something important tries to make its way into her consciousness, but her thoughts are muddy and slow. Old training barely remembered steps in and takes over. Her trembling hands reach out and take the brooch, feeling its weight and smooth ancient surface. "I, Cladissa Velorryan, daughter of Atticus and Tessida Velorryan, of Champs du Lange, Galt, Pathfinder, accept this token of courtship. I shall wear it next to my heart until such time as I choose to return it-- or give you my heart in love."
Once the words flow out, panic seizes her. What did I just do?
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If Cladissa ever mentions or apologizes for her outburst to Sabrina, Yig's Champion replies sincerely, "Don't worry about it, Classy; as far as I'm concerned, the issue is settled. Water under the bridge. All is forgiven. Bygones are bygones."
Not being one to insult someone's generosity, Sabrina (in her whirlwind form) gladly attends the dinner; she is pleased that Cladissa even asks her to show up. Thankfully, the witch is considerably more collected than the previous day, so it seems that her letter finally did the trick.
Naturally, right on cue, she arrives in time to watch the whole exchange between Cladissa and Sir Preston Riverwyne; before she can really do anything, hearing the name of her friend's father stuns the Champion of Yig.
"...Velorryan? Daughter of ...Atticus Velorryan?!" Sabrina whispers under her breath in disbelief.
...This has got to be the craziest coincidence since... my sister met our reincarnated great-grandpa in some random bar in Magnimar!
Sir Preston rises slowly, taking up his sword and saying a quiet prayer to Iomedae as Cladissa steps back. Holding the brooch as concrete proof that this was not some bizarre dream, she runs her fingers along its grooves and contours. She glances back and sees that the manor's wait staff had all come out to witness the ceremony. She catches her mother studying her with a critical look.
That jolts Cladissa out of her dream-like fugue. She leans over and whispers, "I thought you'd be pleased."
The Lady Farwynd arches an eyebrow. "It's, 'I shall wear it over my heart.'"
Reginald clears his throat and announces that dinner is served, saving Cladissa from having to retort. At the announcement, Sir Preston finishes his prayer, sheathes his sword, and offers his arm to Cladissa. She looks at him with wide eyes, and notices that he really isn't all that tall. 'Shall we?" he asks with surprising tenderness.
Her arm pauses before it takes his. She sees her arm covered in her striped fur and suddenly it strikes her. My illusion! Oh, gods, I'm a demon being courted by a paladin! What in the hells am I doing?
He notices her hesitation and the panic crossing her face. "My lady?"
"You're armored," she observes. Afraid that he'll see through her illusion if he interacts with it, she takes a step back.
Preston chuckles, then his parade armor shimmers, and is replaced with a stylish doublet emblazoned with Iomedae's symbol. "It's glamered," he says.
"Oh," Cladissa starts. Still, that gave her an idea. "In that case..." she concentrates on her sleeves and her rather simple gown flows into a much more formal affair, complete with gloves. Smiling at him, she guesses for the first time, she takes his arm and lets herself be escorted into the dining hall.
Reginald announces each guest as they arrive. Cladissa sits next to Sir Preston as her mother seats herself across from her daughter. As the first course is brought out, she turns to the paladin and asks, "Okay, I have to know: how did we save your life?"
He reaches up and rubs the scar on his cheek lightly. "My company had been stationed in a fort outside Storasta, when we were... betrayed. By our captain, specifically. He was a good man, but the demons are excellent at finding our weaknesses. Our mission took us behind the demon lines inside the Worldwound, and it was doomed to failure, as we quickly found out. Captain Dwyor realized his error. I believe he redeemed himself in his sacrifice which let us fall back to a small cleft in a canyon where we could hold out against the demons that pursued us. Unfortunately, there was no way out of that canyon. Fifty good men and women, including myself, would have perished had there not been a fresh company of crusaders passing by on their way to Kenebres. The company made possible by you and your brave friends." He raises a glass.
The Lady Farwynd's attention is drawn instantly to the hovering whirlwind. "Yes, yes he was," she confirms while gazing deeply at the elemental. "Sabrina... Henderson, was it? How do you know this?"
Cladissa, sitting across from her mother, notices Sabrina hovering near and whispering to her. "Um, Sabs? What's going on?" She decided she welcomed one of the strange druid's antics at this point, since at least that would take the attention off her.
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Upon hearing her question confirmed, Sabrina's eyes turn into stars, and a big, goofy grin crawls onto her face; she utters are a delighted squee and slowly floats to the floor as if under the effect of Feather Fall.
She props herself up again a few seconds later.
"About thirty-two years ago, my father was sentenced to the chopping blocks in Galt. He sold groceries to 'enemies of the Rebellion' or some nonsense. Just out of law school (I think), a lawyer by the name of Atticus Velorryan helped him escape the country! Dad met my mother a few months later, and, well, the rest is evident." [1]
Sabrina is clearly struggling to compose herself.
::...May I hug you, Classy? Please? Pretty please?!::
Dumbstruck, Cladissa does nothing but stare at Sabrina after the revelation that her father likely saved the druid's own father's life before both of them had been born. The shock grows when she catches her mother's eyed moisten and a light smile touching her lips.
She finally nods. ::Yes,:: she tells her as she scoots her chair back and stands up to catch Sabrina's embrace.
"This is incredible! Your dad and mine knew each other? Is he--" she cuts herself off when she remembers. "Oh, that's right; he just passed. I'm sorry, again." she glances over to her mother and sees her in a different light. The Lady Farwynd's face shone with the memory of an old love and for an instant Cladissa could see the bright beauty she once would have been.
Then it registers that Sabrina's father was also deceased, and the lines on her face again return.
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Sabrina utters another squeal of delight and zips over to Cladissa to hug her; mindful of her Freakish strength, she takes care to be gentle.
Once the embrace breaks, Sabrina floats back and says, "It's alright, Cladissa. I appreciate your thoughts but thanks to your father, my father lived over thirty years longer than if he would've in Galt, and I had the chance to tell you the story!"
Sabrina begins to ponder the past.
"I think they knew to each other to... at least pen pal level. I remember letters to an Atticus Velorryan getting slipped into the family couriers' bags, and they sometimes brought stuff back for him."
Family couriers being the Archons her mom sometimes Planar Allies with to deliver particularly important documents.
Yig's Champion leaves out that such exchanges stopped by the time she was around ten or eleven; given the politics of Galt, Tessida's display of emotions, and her marriage to Auronee's father in Taldor, Sabrina has a good inkling of why. Instead, she decides to end things on a happier note.
"On more than one occasion, my Dad told me that Atticus Velorryan was probably the most noble, selfless man he ever met," Sabrina says softly, her smile relaxing to one less goof and more... tender. She looks at both Cladissa and her mother. "Hence I'm honored that I got the chance to meet you both."
A happy Sabrina floats back over to her chair and takes a seat.
"I apologize, Sir Preston. I didn't mean to steal the moment," she adds a little sheepishly.
The paladin's face registers shock and looks at Sabrina. "You haven't stolen anything! How could I possibly object to such a happy revelation? Again, I am in awe. Although now I see that selfless acts run in the family." He casts an admiring glance at Cladissa.
The Lady Farwynd picks up her napkin and proceeds to dab at the corners of her eyes. Cladissa begins to lower herself into her seat when she sees her mother and is overcome. Tears begin to flow freely down her cheeks.
Sir Preston takes up his own napkin and reaches over to her. Reflexively, Cladissa flinches before he touches her face. He freezes, and she takes the cloth from his hand as she stammers, "I'm sorry. I-- I am, it's just that... I'm sorry." She dries her eyes and looks down at her lap, abashed.
The Lady Farwynd's eyes narrow and she leans forward, studying her daughter. Before the silence grows too long, she suggests, "Sir Preston, why don't you tell the guests why you are here in Absalom?"
Shifting slightly to afford Cladissa more personal space, he agrees and clears his throat. "Yes. Thank you." As another course of food is brought out, he begins. "My reasons are threefold, actually. I have been sent to the Ascendant Court to teach and recruit. As you probably know, Absalom is a special site to the Inheritor, and many are drawn to her here. However, her faithful are needed elsewhere.
"I'm also here to share my tale. To show that there is a real positive effect to the support for the Crusade, measured in lives saved and demonic threats vanquished. In this way, Mendev hopes that the support will continue."
Then he smiles, looking at the Pathfinders around the table, sparing a longer glance at Cladissa. "Lastly, to meet the esteemed Pathfinders who saved me and many others and extend our gratitude."
Cladissa notes with a wistful sigh the empty chairs signifying the absent members of her team.
"I'm sorry that several aren't here to accept your thanks," she says with a note of sorrow. "Hrimnagel has accepted a position of Venture-Captain, and Thrassk and Mattera have taken extended leaves of absence. Grommuk left even before them. And Nyugusk is reincarnated," she explains, but not venturing into details of his demise -- especially at dinner.
The conversation lulls for a time as the exquisite featured dishes arrive and everyone takes time to savor the delectable flavors Mr. Goodpies and staff has prepared. Despite the fine cuisine, Cladissa picks slowly at her food and can barely bring herself to do more than steal brief, blushing glances at her suitor.
She realizes her lack of appetite comes from the twisting nervousness that has settled in her belly. I need to come clean. Show him what I really look like. But I can't just drop the illusion. I'll have to prepare him somehow. Maybe see what he knows about demons first.
"So, you've fought a lot of demons, I guess? We sure have." Ugh.
The paladin nods and takes a drink of chilled water before speaking. Then he draws in a breath and sighs as his eyes grow distant, as if seeing the demonic hordes in far-away Sarkoris. "Yes, they are legion. I've slain dretches by the score, numerous schirs, and other lesser demons like brimoraks. I've fought against babaus and vrocks as well."
Ignoring her mother's gaze for the moment, Cladissa fixes her attention on Sir Preston as he speaks. No. Don't ask it. Don't-- "What about succubi?" Dammit.
Sir Preston's eyes focus and he turns to face her directly. His jaw tightens and his expression turns haunted. "One. It was the source of our betrayal. Our captain, he... was led astray. Then it sought to corrupt me, and pit us against each other, tearing apart our company from within. I was fortunate -- praise Iomedae -- that its deception did not blind me to its plot. But when I confronted it, I wasn't prepared. I received this --" he traces his finger along the scar on his cheek -- "from Captain Dwyor."
With visible effort, he shakes off his burning anger at the betrayal, and then forces a smile. He looks around the table, then back to Cladissa who is frozen, wide-eyed at his tale.
"I refused to have this cut healed magically. This scar serves as a reminder. It is part of my oath now, to always remain virtuous and true. And I will never hesitate -- their very words are poison, full of lies and magic to charm their victims." He squares his shoulders to face Cladissa, looking earnestly at her. "I know a succubus attacked you when you were securing aid for the Crusade. You don't have to worry; if ever one shows up, I will cut it down with all of Iomedae's fury."
Oh. Oh, hell.
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...I can see where this is going... Sabrina mumbles in her mind. ::Cladissa, if there was ever a time to say something about your current appearance, now is most likely that time; I'll back you up. Unless Preston is one of those 'holy than thou' types who refuse to see reason under all circumstances, then everything will probably be just fine, and thus far, he's seemed... quite nice actually; he even knows about what caused your change::
::...Isn't Cole a Silvanshee Agathion? Can you call him here? He can vouch for you!::
Cladissa stays stock-still, frozen in disbelief at the irony of her current situation. Then a voice of rationality sounds in her head. She glances over to Sabrina and nods briefly at her. ::Yeah, good point, but my attack isn't in the Chronicles. He's talking about our first fight. I'll try to get Cole back here. He's off doing... familiar things. Or cat things. Or both::
Then realizing the silence following Preston's oath was stretching into an uncomfortable one, she looks back to him. "That's... nice. But you don't need to--"
Sir Preston's face reveals shock and sudden regret. "Forgive me! I shouldn't have implied you'd need that kind of protection from me. You're a warrior yourself, I'm being unfair to you. Please forgive me; your own willingness to fight evil is what's drawn me to you from half a world away."
She meets his eyes and sees an earnestness there. "But how? Why me? There's lots of Pathfinders. Lots of those who fight evil. Why show up and immediately request the Rite of Courtship?"
Sir Preston looks a bit sheepish. "All right. Maybe I've got a bit of the romantic in me. After we were saved and I learned of the Absalom support, I looked into it. I read the account of the Blakros family, and became intrigued. I read more of your Chronicles. I resolved to meet you -- all of you -- and then I met your mother on the journey here. It had to be divine intervention. She suggested that you would appreciate the gesture."
"Did she?" Cladissa asks flatly, teeth grinding together.
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...Bleh. I meant 'holier than thou' types; even in my thoughts, I jumble my words!
Sabrina shoves the stray thought aside and continues speaking with Cladissa.
::...In all fairness, unless Preston enjoys the company of men like Gianluca does, you were probably the most likely to see... affection from him. I think I'm only the second female to join this team? And I'm not even in any of the Chronicles with the rest of you!::
Sabrina barely suppresses a hearty laugh at the idea of a paladin courting her of all people.
::That said, if you want to back out of this, just wait until tomorrow and then, in a private setting, tell him that after sleeping on it, you've decided that you aren't ready for such a big commitment... Has your mom been pressuring you to get married? If you want, mention that as well; Preston has been very reasonable and mature thus far, so I think he'll understand::
"Yes, she did, and I went along with it. It sounded better in my head, but I committed myself," Sir Preston continues while Cladissa works to pay attention to both him and the voice in her head, all the while fighting to not glare at her mother.
"Paladins are bold and fearless," she responds with the beginnings of a smile on her lips, forgiving him for being manipulated by her mother.
As the main course's plates are being cleared away, Cladissa looks over to Sabrina. ::There's not a lot of pressure on me, really. Back when Aroden was alive, Courtship was usually arranged by families and a lot of pressure was on the girl to keep the token. But that was generations ago, and it's not like that anymore. Well, I don't know what it's like in Andoran, but I expect it's much like it was in Galt. We see each other for a while exclusively, and see where it leads. I might just do that. It's not like I'll be breaking any hearts by accepting the brooch::
Cladissa toys with her glass absently. The dinner conversation again reached a lull. Sir Preston seemed rather sullen, the Lady Farwynd loomed like a spectre, and Sabrina was, well, Sabrina. Cladissa felt a strong urge to have two or three strong drinks to throw caution to the wind and tell her suitor, but she couldn't help notice he had abstained. She didn't feel it becoming to end up sloshed on the day they met and underwent the Rite of Courtship. Instead, she silently fretted about how to bring up her real appearance without courting disaster.
At last, the final dessert course was brought out by Mr. Goodpies. He set a dish of thin, eggy pancakes soaked in orange liqueur upon the table, and then touched a small candle to it. It burst into a dazzling flame that flashed out in seconds in a fitting display of culinary expertise.
Cladissa recalled the traditional Galtan dessert and gave a small applause to the halfling gourmet, while Sir Preston grinned and nodded his head in appreciation. The Lady Farwynd, however, looked at her daughter severely.
"Cladissa, may I talk to you for a moment in private?" her mother asks with a note of insistence.
She eyes her mother warily, but concedes. "All right. Don't eat it all. I'll be back," she tells Sabrina and Preston, then follows the Lady Farwynd into an adjoining sitting room.
Once in private, her mother rounds on her. "What did I just see?"
Cladissa looks shocked. "The dessert? What does crepes--"
"Not the dessert!" her mother spits. "I saw your shadow in the light of the flambé. It looked... grotesque. It looked like it was attacking Sir Preston."
Cladissa folds her arms. "A trick of the light. You saw nothing."
Her mother steps closer. "Don't lie to me, girl. I know what I saw."
The Pathfinder witch buckles under the withering glare. "All right. Fine. You want to see?"
Cladissa's illusion drops, revealing her nightmarishly beautiful form. The Lady Farwynd gasps and falls back into a divan. "So, this happened," she says once she can tell that her mother's shock is not life-threatening.
"What-- what have you done to yourself?" she finally stammers out.
Cladissa's mouth twists in irritation. I didn't do this. Not on purpose. But it's real."
In a span of several heartbeats, the Lady Farwynd processes her daughter's words and demonic appearance. Then a simmering anger grows behind her eyes. "How could you let this happen?" she hisses. "You realize this will ruin your chances with Sir Preston?! If he doesn't kill you first?"
Cladissa immediately retaliates. "Oh, you don't think I haven't thought of that? Well, maybe next time you'll write first before bringing a bloody paladin unannounced, and duped into the Rite of Courtship! I cannot believe you did that!"
Tessida plants her hands on her hips. "You needed the push! You'll be an old maid if it's left up to you! You're twenty-six, for the gods' sake! Someone has to seize the initiative because it certainly isn't you!"
Cladissa throws up her hands. Her leathery wings flap once as she gestures to her horns and tail coiling behind her. "I've got a little problem to take care of first, especially if I'm to be courted by paladins!"
The Lady Farwynd's resolve cracks, though she still fumes as she glares at her daughter. Deliberately, she calms herself down with measured breaths. "All right. Under no circumstances are you to show this... this... harlot's form to him."
"Mom, I've got to tell him--"
"NO! There's too much at stake." She pinches her brow as she thinks. "When will the serum's effects strike you again? Can you change back?"
"I hope to, some day," Cladissa says. "But I can't right now. There's so much about this that we don't have time for. You'll just have to believe me, which I know is hard for you. I'm telling him. But I want Cole here with me. He's being of pure goodness. Sir Preston should be able to see that. If he vouches for me, maybe I won't be killed."
The illusion reforms around Cladissa. "In the meantime, let's have dessert." She exits the sitting room and rejoins everyone in the dining room. Her mother glides out after her, her face fixed and neutral.
"How's the crepes?" Cladissa asks as she takes her seat next to Sir Preston. "Better than a dacquoise, I hope?"
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After wolfing down her dessert in the most polite way possible, Sabrina realizes that there is something that she should address.
::Hey, Classy. Would it be alright if I told Sir Preston about what I actually look like? Since he might be around somewhat frequently and all? Given how I'm not mentioned in the Chronicles with you or Argor, he could very well think I'm an Air Elemental someone binded or something::
To be honest, she probably does not need Cladissa's permission or anything, but Sabrina also does not want to alienate her friend.
::...It could help with... you know...:: Yig's Champion adds tentatively.
Nerves still raw after her blowup with her mother, several scenarios cross Cladissa's mind at Sabrina's suggestion. Ultimately, she dismisses them. It's not like he'll jump up, sword in hand to slay the two-headed dragon, right? ::Okay. Sure. This day's been weird enough already. Just... let's try to ease into it, okay?::