Project ZEAL

Scene 24 - They Only Come Out at Night (Symmetry)

They were crying out to her and she could not resist their call; Naomi tried to stop looking at the cushions her mother had delivered to her room, for she knew that if she tried to study while lying upon them, she would be just as ignorant seven hours later as she was now. The uncomfortable "torture device" -- as Sessimine had called it -- would have to suffice for the time being. Unfortunately, at the rate her studies were preceding, Naomi wasn't going to be much better off come crunch time if she remained semi-awake. Frustrated with school -- and life in general -- the young woman did what she always did when she was frustrated; with lips clinched tightly, Naomi slammed the book she was currently reading (if staring mindlessly can be called reading) and swept it off the table.

Great. This is getting me nowhere, and failing tomorrow's exam isn't an option. Its not going to be pretty, but I'm going to have to ask mother for some help. The student glanced over at a clock on the wall. Six past midnight. Perhaps "not pretty" is an understatement. Waking mother up now is going to be downright ugly. Still, it beats the alternative; if I don't pass this test, and for that matter the remaining tests this term, I'm going to have to repeat the course.

Slipping on her pink subfusc as she stepped out into the hall, Naomi made her way out to the quad and wandered through the paths that wove through the school's garden, eventually arriving at the double doors that led to the Provostia's chamber. Upon entering, the young woman turned around and walked up one of the two flights of stairs that curved around the entrance before rejoining at the second floor. Slightly winded, Naomi quietly made her way up another flight of stairs before arriving at the portal that led to her mother's quarters. After taking a moment to catch her breath, Naomi closed her eyes and tapped gently on the bedroom door. Upon hearing no activity inside the room beyond, the student knocked once again, this time arousing her mother from sleep. With her ear upon the door, Naomi heard Sessimine grumble as she approached. Grr... Whoever this is better have a good reason for waking me up at this hour. Otherwise they're going find themselves on butler or maid duty for an indefinite period of time!

As the door opened, Naomi took two steps back, only to find the elder Maruyama standing with her arms already crossed tightly and an icy look on her face that could have frozen a raging inferno. Fortunately for the young woman, the enchantress' gaze warmed up a degree just above freezing as she realized just who had disturbed her slumber.

"Naomi..." Sessimine gently rubbed her eyes and glanced back at a clock. "... It's a quarter past midnight. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting up for your exam tomorrow?"

The student replied hesitantly. "Well, yes. I should be sleeping, but I'm trying to study for tomorrow's test."

"And I should be asleep as well, but I'm trying to figure out why you've woken me up. I assume you've got a few questions you want to ask me."

Naomi nodded her head. Sighing to herself, Sessimine stepped aside and motioned for her daughter to enter, closing the door once the young woman was inside. Quickly making her way to a couch, the student sat down and seized the opportunity to stare in awe at her surroundings. The Provostia's quarters -- the only room in the School of Enchantment on the third floor -- was a masterpiece of interior decoration outdone only by the rooms found in the Palace of Zeal, which possessed majesty that was simply impossible to duplicate elsewhere. Aside from the flowers that were strewn about the bedroom, other points of wonder included elegant portraits of the women (and one man!) who had overseen the college that hung on the walls, statues of Montlasalle and his angelic handmaidens, translucent veils that hung from the ceiling and were scattered about the room, and countless pieces of furniture that once had rested in the Palace but had been deemed 'outdated' by the royal family -- but were still quite fashionable by aristocratic standards. In the middle of the room, four pillars resting on an elevated platform surrounded a bed -- which resembled an ornately decorated papasan more than it did a frame and mattress -- that had actually served as a throne in ages past. What Naomi found to be the most impressive aspect of the room, however, was not its furnishings, but rather a stained glass window on the ceiling directly above the bed. At the inhabitant's desire, this window could either reflect or absorb light, the latter focusing it upon the bed in a gentle pink beam; furthermore, the floor of the bedroom was composed of the same crystal material, meaning that it too glowed faintly in unison. As impressive as all of this was, it blew Naomi's mind to think that her mother's quarters paled in comparison to the wonders of Zeal Palace. While the young woman was lost in thought, she failed to realize that Sessimine had laid back down on her bed.

"Well, do you plan on telling me what's on your mind, or am I going to have to prod you until you do? I'm going to become less and less pleasant every minute you keep me awake, so do try and make this quick." Sessimine curled up in bed, clutching a pillow tightly, not even bothering to face her daughter while talking -- much less keep her eyes open.

Naomi set aside her awe and snapped back into reality. The elder Maruyama had a reputation for being particularly grouchy when she was tired -- the one scenario in which her peerless grace and charm seemed nowhere to be found. "Er, yes. I have a question about shading."

"Shading? Don't tell me you're having problems with a simple concept as that. Have you even bothered to read your texts yet?"

"Mother, please. Just..."

"Don't tell me what to do! You're in my room, begging for my assistance, interrupting my sleep, and completely at my mercy!" The enchantress waved one of her hands frantically about in the air.

"Mother!" Naomi stressed the final syllable with an unusual harshness and continued with the intensity into her next sentence. "You're not helping!"

A moment of silence ensued, interrupted after several minutes by a sigh and the rustling of covers and cushions as Sessimine rolled about in her bed. "Fine. Come here."

"Er, wh-" The young lady began to speak, but was quickly routed.

"Just come here. Don't argue with me any further or else you'll find yourself failing tomorrow's exam in spectacular form!" As Naomi approached her mother, the elder Maruyama issued another command. "Since I'm taking the time to help you, you're going to massage my back until I fall asleep -- and so there's no misunderstanding; the second your hands stop moving, my lips stop moving. Am I clear?"

"Lucidly clear."

"Excellent. Now make sure you take your shoes off before climbing into bed. I don't want you dirtying up my cushions, as they're frustratingly hard to clean."

Naomi slipped off her shoes, noticing Sessimine's wooden clogs on the floor beside the bed as she climbed onto the crescent-shaped seat. Before crawling next to her mother, the student grabbed one of the sandals and inspected it confusingly. "How could you possibly find these comfortable?"

"Find what comfortable?"

Naomi failed to realize that her mother was already laying on her stomach.

"Your sandals. First of all, they're made of wood; secondly, they're quite tall; and finally, they're arched at the heel. These must be painful to wear!"

Sessimine sighed. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Of course they're not comfortable -- they're not meant to be! They're fashionable as fashionable gets. Now quit fooling around and start massaging, unless a failing mark has just suddenly become appealing to you."

Rolling her eyes, Naomi laid down the piece of footwear and began to make her mother as comfortable as possible. As expected, it took several minutes for her to actually find the right spot, pressure, and rhythm, but Sessimine's complaints quickly made it obvious what her mother did and didn't like. Now it suddenly becomes clear to me why mother has never been married... I can't imagine having to wake up in the middle of the night to someone like this! No amount of money, talent, personality, or beauty could ever make this kind of abuse tolerable!

"So -- shading."

"Yes, yes. Just keep massaging, I'm getting there. I don't see why its so hard for you to understand."

"Mother, please -- don't harass me any further. Just explain the basic principles already."

"Very well. Let me start by asking you a question. When you want to alter a subject's emotion -- let's say their fear of you, for example -- what do you do?"

"Cast the appropriate charm spell?" Naomi's response was hesitant, for the answer seemed too obvious to be the correct one.

"Correct. Now, when was the last time you noticed me actually cast a charm spell?"

The student pondered, careful not to get so lost in thought that she stopped massaging. "Now that I think about it, outside of a demonstration in class, never. I can't recall you ever casting a charm."

"Precisely -- and this is an example of shading. You see, when you become as talented as I have, you're so familiar with those spells that they become acts of will, rendering the incantation useless." Sessimine propped up her head against one of her hands and pointed to her neck with the other. "Here, please. I've got a terrible kink in my neck."

Naomi resisted the urge to strangle her mother. "I think I understand that much. I just don't see why its necessary, or rather, what benefits there are to be gained by cutting out the incantation."

"Which poses a greater threat -- the thief you can see, or the thief lurking in the shadows?"

"I don't follow."

The elder Maruyama sighed again. "When you can see and hear someone casting a charm upon you, the source of your malady is clear. It is much easier to resist the charm when you know who is casting it and when it's coming; however, if you can't identify the source of your fear, your chances of resisting it plummet. By learning to shade her charms, the enchantress makes it infinitely more difficult for a subject to remain unaffected by them. Even if you knew that someone else wielded such power, the very fact that fear or affection suddenly swells up inside you is enough to throw your thoughts into disarray. Is that clear enough for you now?"

"Yes, I think so, but there's something else I..." The young lady was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Who else would have the nerve to visit me at this hour? See to the door, Naomi."

"But you said if I stopped..."

"I said see to the door!" Sessimine rolled over and sat up in bed as Naomi quickly scurried her way to the door, reached for the doorknob, and stopped to look back at her mother. I feel terrible for whoever is standing on the opposite side of this door... If mother is this grouchy towards me at this hour, I can't image how she'd act to someone else!

"Well?"

"Mother! You're hardly decent enough to be seeing someone else. Don't you plan on putting on another nightgown or something?"

Sessimine rolled her eyes. "Why would I do that? I answered the door dressed like this when you knocked earlier."

Naomi waved her hands about frantically. "But you're my mother! Although slightly disturbing, its okay for me to see you like that... a guest is an entirely different situation!"

"Do you think I knew who it was disturbing me earlier? Invite whoever it is you've kept waiting in, already!"

With a sigh of frustration, the young woman opened the door, allowing a handsome man wearing a black subfusc with a golden insignia of the Mammon Machine on it to enter. Strangely enough, even in the soft pink light that filled the room, the man seemed to radiate colour of his own, the shiny grey of his hair and his pale skin just as visible as they would have been in normal daylight.

"Miss Maruyama?"

Both Naomi and Sessimine responded at the same time. "Yes?"

Quickly realizing that she was not the Maruyama being addressed, Naomi blushed and pointed to her mother. "Er, she's the one you want." Embarrassed, the young woman deftly made her way to a couch across the room and assumed her usual role as a wallflower. Nodding to Naomi ever so slightly, the man made his way towards Sessimine and bowed deeply upon reaching her bedside.

"You must pardon my interruption. I would have not aroused you from sleep at this hour had the matter I have ordered to discuss been a trivial one."

"You mustn't worry about waking me up, as another unexpected guest seems to have beaten you to the punch." Any trace of frustration or grumpiness had vanished from Sessimine's voice; where a grim face had been moments before, batting eyelashes and a smile now stood. "Anyhow, a representative of the Council is a welcome sight at any hour; you must pardon my for not being appropriately dressed! If you'll excuse me..." The elder Maruyama climbed out of bed and strutted across the room to a dressing screen which depicted the gods and goddesses giving birth to the world, grabbing a black nightgown that lay on a chair beside it as she stepped behind the screen.

Naomi rolled her eyes and fumed. Oh wow. There's a novel idea -- get dressed! I wonder who graced her mind with that one; although I'm sure our definitions of "appropriate" vary. I swear, if she walks back out here wearing anything less, I'm going to scream. No, I take that back -- I'll bang my head against a wall, and then I'll scream. Fortunately for everyone in the surrounding dormitory, the two Maruyamas' definitions of appropriate were in harmony -- if only for the moment. Sessimine appeared once more, smiling brightly as she tossed aside the lavender gown she wore moments earlier.

"Sorry for the wait. May I get you something to drink? A glass of wine? Perhaps something to smoke?" Without waiting for an answer, Sessimine walked poured two glasses of wine and removed her trusty cigarette holder from a drawer before making her way to where her guest was standing.

"Er... no thanks."

"Are you sure... Mr....?"

"Just call me Caro."

"Very well, Caro it is." The enchantress carried on, but not before tossing out a sugar-coated laugh. "I suppose this just leaves more wine for me, doesn't it? Can't let it go to waste. Now please, sit down." Sessimine pointed to a divan situated right along a wall right next to a large mirror that appeared to be built into the side of the room. Before seating herself, the enchantress glanced amusedly at the two glasses of wine, downing one in a single sip and setting the empty chalice on an end table next to where the handsome guest was sitting. Naomi could hardly believe her eyes.

And she has the nerve to lecture me about social grace! What's with mother acting all cheery all of sudden, anyway? Was it too much to ask for her to be pleasant to me, too? Gah! The young lady continued to fume, her angst running wild in her mind until she could take no more -- she couldn't take being in her mother's presence a second longer. "Um, you two will have to excuse me, I need to step outside for a moment."

Sessimine turned to her daughter with a concerned look on her face that only served to frustrate Naomi further. "Are you alright? Are you feeling ill?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I'll be right back." The young lady stood up and walked over to the centre of the mirror that composed a vast portion of the wall on which it was built into. As she waved her hand in front of it, the mirror began to shimmer as a pond does when a tiny pebble is tossed into it. The mirror continued to undulate, gradually distorting further and further until it convulsed in a final wave and vanished, revealing a balcony and the open air beyond. After crossing onto the other side and hearing a high-pitched whine, Naomi turned to see that the mirror had reformed, except that on her side, a similar-sized stained glass window now appeared to bar passage between her mother's room and the patio. Thankful to be relieved of Sessimine's presence once more, the student took a deep breath and leaned against one of the columns supporting the balcony's roof, slowly sliding closer and closer to the ground until she was sitting against the marble floor comfortably. Without realizing it, Naomi's thoughts and questions began to fade into the background of her mind and the young lady dozed off to sleep with tasks still waiting to be accomplished.

~~~***~~~

The next morning, Naomi was startled to find herself outside, lying on the ground with her hands pressed against her head in a very uncomfortable makeshift pillow. Tossing aside a blanket, the presence of which she did not take the time to consider, the young lady jumped to her feet in a panic, trying to remember just what she needed to finish before class began later in the afternoon. Naomi quickly walked over to the stain-glass window and pressed upon it with her hand, only to watch it penetrate the wall in the same manner a stone passes through the surface of a pond when tossed by a bored child. Hoping Sessimine had not yet left the comforts of her bedroom, the student rushed in uninvited.

"Mother? Mother, are you...?"

Naomi's question was answered in the most unlikely way it could have been -- although given the nature of her mother, she should have seen it coming. Failing to realize the student's presence, Sessimine came dancing in from her bathroom, dressed only in a towel and belting out a chorus from a well-known Zealian opera. Quickly placing her hands over her mouth to suppress her laughter, Naomi hid behind one of the veils that hung from the ceiling as best she could, quietly observing Sessimine's performance. Though it was quite an amusing scene, she had to admit -- her mother was quiet talented; had Sessimine put serious effort into her singing, she could have easily soared to the top of the artistic world. After a few minutes of spying however, Naomi could remain silent no longer; just as her mother finished the melody, she burst forth into unrestrained laughter. Surprised to find a fan in her bedroom, Sessimine turned to her daughter with hands planted firmly on her hips and responded with a playful stare.

"Hmph! You're not playing fair!"

In a rare instance of imitating her mother's behaviour, Naomi responded in like kind, her own hands resting about her waist. "What?! You would have done the same to me! Its perfectly fair!"

"Is not! I would have given a much better performance had I known someone was watching! Still, you must admit -- I'm quite the chanteuse, aren't I?"

"Quite so." Naomi quickly changed the subject while her mother was in a good mood. "What happened to your visitor that was here last night?"

The enchantress made her way behind her dressing screen and hung her towel over the top, muffling her voice ever so slightly. "What do you mean what happened? He went home, of course. You didn't think I'd bed Mister Caro after meeting him once, did you?"

"Well..."

"Rhetorical question, dear."

"My apologies. So what did you talk about, anyway?"

The only response the student received was the ruffling of Sessimine's garments as she was dressing herself.

"Mother?"

"Oh nothing. Just business. You know, things like interrogating criminals and other boring, trivial tasks that we enchantresses are so wonderful at. Now if you please -- if you would be so kind -- let's keep this to ourselves, alright?"

"Er... okay. Why would I go telling anyone else about your work?"

"Why wouldn't you? I'm so fascinating, I'm sure you must constantly be barraged by fans wanting to know what life as my daughter is like!"

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Sure, mother. All the time. If you'll excuse me, I'll be returning to my dorm now. I still have some studying I need to do before this afternoon's exam."

"Study hard! I couldn't bear to see my precious little girl fail her first class of higher arcane education!"

The young lady continued rolling her eyes as she stepped outside and closed her mother's door. If you wouldn't make your class so incredibly difficult, that wouldn't be a problem now, would it? Sighing to herself, Naomi made her way back to her room without any further disturbance.

---

Use the sidebar to navigate to other scenes and access the "writers' bible" for the project. Discuss Project ZEAL and this feature here.

Return to Features