Blackwater Canyon, Chapter 8
The Only Thing That Matters
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Previously: James, in his third year at Darrington Magus Academy, struggles with his sword craft and mistakes Myriam for someone of his past.
Myraim
“What happened earlier?” Asher asked.
“See you around!” Myriam called after James, who offered a lukewarm wave as he continued down the hall. “Nothing important,” she said, turning the opposite direction.
She rushed down the stairs feeling her cheeks run hot. What was that sensation just now? She wasn’t even able to write a complete sentence, just batches of sloppy words and—she prayed that James was unable to read cursive.
“Nothing important, says the woman writing with a flashy pen,” Asher said in an obvious instigation of banter.
“Since when is a girl not allowed to indulge in playfulness?” Myriam hurried down the stairwell, thinking only of the dark curls of the boy who mistook her identity for another. She gripped her books tightly with a heavy sigh. “Also, if you must know, it was a gift from William.”
“I am just surprised you are holding onto such menial things when—” Asher stopped at the foot of the landing. “You didn’t end your engagement?”
Myriam suddenly regretted keeping mentioning her plans to Asher at all. “It was Darrington and William, or no Darrington… and still William. The compromise with my parents was a delay and I wasn’t about to let what I’ve worked so hard for get away from me.”
There was truly only one way that William would be taken off the table completely, there would be no simple return home and flat refusal. She had already decided that going rogue was the only option and if that meant living out the life she wanted as a single woman, alone in the city, so be it.
“You never mentioned you failed to break things off with him.” Asher skipped down the stairs after her.
“Was it really that important?”
“It is when you aren’t wearing a ring.”
Myriam quickly rounded the last landing to avoid his further interrogation. “I don’t see you wearing one either.”
“My point is, all these people that you think are your friends only want you around for your money and influence,” Asher redirected.
“What exactly are you trying to get at, Asher?” Myriam stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and glared at him.
“The last thing you need to worry about on top of that is someone trying to wedge their way into your relationship with William.”
Myriam gripped at her books tighter. “So, what? You’re suggesting I should give up on trying to make friends?”
Asher met her at the last step. “You were gifted an off campus townhome by your father—with a yard, by the way. People take notice of that kind of thing in the city.”
She chewed on the inside of her lip, knowing he made a point.
“I am just looking out for you Myriam.” Asher’s knuckles tightened around the strap of his bag.
Myriam headed out the door, into the brisk night air. “I don’t need you to be my guardian away from home.”
“You were too sheltered growing up,” Asher huffed, catching the door. “You haven’t experienced how cruel people can be.”
“Invitations to social events with peers is not—”
Asher set a firm hand on her shoulder. “Sober people rarely talk, Myriam. Information is currency here—on the name of Saint Daedelus, the only thing that matters. All I am saying is to be careful. Don’t forget you are surrounded by descendants of officials and diplomats.”
Information is power, her father mentioned that. It is what he meant by blackmail is more valuable than currency in Solvana and to remain on her best behavior. He had even suggested that she memorize the names of the currently seated Empire’s Board of Representatives and to approach those individuals with respect.
/ / /
“Thank you for the reminder.” Myriam looked at her boots. “Off to dinner, then?”
Asher slicked back his hair and joined her on the brick path. As they walked, their shared footfalls became synced over crunching leaves.
“Have you kept in touch with Eliza this semester?” Myraim asked, taking note of the first hints of fall in the yellowed spines of red tipped maple leaves littered across the pathway. “Sorry I haven’t asked you about her sooner. I have a lot more classwork than I anticipated.”
“We communicate by letter mail once a week or so,” Asher said with an unreadable expression. “I am planning on making a trip home soon. If you want to tag along, we could travel together.”
“Perhaps. I was really looking forward to take the train here. I have heard the route is scenic once you make it through the plains. Sorry my father insisted on traveling through the portals.”
“Why are you making such an effort to apologize?” Asher looked to her puzzled.
“I don’t know. It’s just…” Myriam dipped her face behind her curls. “I have wanted to attend Darrington for so long, and now that I am here it’s like… I thought I would get here and there would be this spark. Like I would know that I am on the right path, but it hasn’t been like that at all,” she laughed out. “In fact, I feel like I am the stupidest person here.”
Asher tossed his arm around her shoulders. “The spell of hopes and dreams has fallen, has it? Yeah, I was there once.”
“Really?” Myriam looked up at him.
Asher nodded. “Back when I first joined my father visiting the mines it was new and exciting, watching the miners work by dim light beneath hundreds of feet of earth is shrouded by a strange mysticism, but then you get looped in with the paperwork and business meetings and brokering deals and the endless stream of mail—it’s exhausting. Before you know it is all you think about.”
All she could think about before she had set her mind on studying for Darrington’s entrance exam was what the next medical case she would join her father on, so his sentiments were somewhat relatable. But now, as the weeks dragged through the semester, her attention was being tugged between studying for her long term goals of becoming a healer, just as her father, and being talked into parties.
Is that what Asher meant about being careful with the friends she hung around? Either way, going out for a drink with new found friends every once in a while was not going to drastically set her back.
“So, I guess this is a bad time to invite you to a party I am throwing at my place next weekend?” Myraim poked his chest playfully.
“Are you joking?” Asher said after a diversive snort. “It pains me to think of what your mother would say to such a comment.”
Myriam frowned. “You wouldn’t dare tell on me.”
“I might,” Asher smiled. “Unless dinner is on you.”
She pushed his shoulder lightly with a scoff. “You really are horrible, you know that? I have to buy the secrecy of my dearest friend.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “I will certainly think about attending, but no promises.”
“Well if I am buying, lets go try a restaurant that is all the rave downtown.” Myriam skipped ahead to catch a maple leaf floating on the breeze.
As she pressed the leaf flat between the pages of her herbal guide, her mind drifted to what symbology maple could hold. To her, as maple shifted from vibrant green to yellows and reds at the turn of season, a symbol of transformation and the cycles which turned.
Perhaps Asher did have a point. Her goal in attending Darrington had been to become a healer just a the path of her father, but things had changed… slightly.
As a girl who grew up in the isolated countryside, she wanted nothing more than to make friends, but the people whom she had been acquainted with thus far only wanted something from her. After all, the house party wasn’t even her idea. If her mother were to unfortunately catch wind of such an event she would be pulled from her studies in an instant.
One time wouldn’t hurt. As the eldest, she grew up hosting large dinner parties at the manor with her mother. As long as the party stayed on the smaller end and kept somewhat quiet… Oh, it was helpless. Her house would become full of angsty diplomat kids away at university, she would be lucky to come out on the other side with only a few broken pieces of porcelain. She was beginning to regret getting talked into a mess waiting to happen.
Image: Satellite view of a river neat Tazewell, Tennessee
Blackwater Canyon Table of Contents
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