A Garden at Midnight

A cold wind disturbed the slow fire burning in the brazier, causing the faint orange flames to vanish for a moment, before returning once more as the breeze passed, the flames low but steady over the white-hot logs.

Coming upon the shallow firebowl that had been set into the hard granite floor, Seraeyl paused for a moment to pick up one of the carefully folded white blankets that had been placed in a neat little pile upon one of the flat stone benches surrounding the fire, then continued down the broad, shallow steps to where an elderly woman stood alone beside a rounded pillar, looking out into the moonlit garden beyond.

She turned at Seraeyl's approach, and gave a curt nod in greeting. Seraeyl smiled in reply, unfolding the blanket and draping it gently about her teach's shoulders. "Here, Mistress Rua," she whispered, "It's a little cold tonight."

"Thank you, dear," said the woman, but with little warmth. She took hold of the the blanket herself, and then fixed the young woman with a stern gaze. "Dinner time ended over an hour ago."

"I came out of my room for a walk," Seraeyl explained, truthfully. The old woman grunted in reply and returned to her view of the garden.

It was one of the many enchanting little gardens hidden away within the vast, walled compound of the Palace of Hort. This particular one was a glade of miniature trees -- the tallest one in the center didn't even come up to her shoulders, while most of them were only about waist height. There had been a brief drizzle earlier in the evening, and the slight, sparsely leafed shrubs were adorned with countless tiny little raindrops that sparkled as if they could catch the starlight. Small white flowers grew upon their slender branches, filling the air with a delicate fragrance.

A narrow path of white cobblestones wound through the glade, standing out clearly against the damp earth in which the tiny trees grew. Around the edges of the garden, which saw less sunlight during the day, there were shallow pools of clear, cold water, in which swam several small golden fish with translucent, wispy fins that flowed gracefully in the water, like cloth billowing in the wind.

This was one of Seraeyl's favourite gardens. Over the tops of the diminutive trees, there was a clear, unobstructed view of the midnight sky. There was a slim crescent moon out tonight, conceding modestly to the dazzling silver-blue cloud of stars that streamed through the sapphire night overhead. To compensate for the lack of moonlight, soft lamps had been lit all along the length of the open-sided corridor they stood in, which ran around the entire perimeter of the enclosed garden.

"I feel unwell," Rua declared at last, still gazing determinedly into the garden. "I remember this feeling -- I felt the same way just before those soldiers arrived, do you remember?"

"It was some time ago," Seraeyl replied, after a moment's thought. "Do you expect something to happen tonight?"

The old woman grunted indistinctly again, but her expression was grim, and her face was creased with lines of worry.

"Why don't you find a seat, mistress?" Seraeyl indicated one of the many smooth stone benches that lined the garden path, as well as the corridor they stood in.

"I'm alright, girl. This old woman's neck has grown too stiff now -- I can't both sit down and look up at the stars at the same time. Huh! Anyway, at my age, sitting down and getting back up are both monumental tasks, which should be undertaken with great consideration, and only at the utmost necessity."

The young woman quickly stifled the brief laughter that escaped her, and covered her mouth in demure guilt; the old woman allowed herself a quick, dry laugh at her own satirical wit, but her dark mood returned right away.

After a while, Seraeyl spoke into the tense silence again. "What did they want, those soldiers who attacked the palace, before?"

"What do all invaders want? Territory, wealth, violence, glory..." Rua made no attempt to hide the acid in her voice. "Some of them had even heard that they could find a path to immortality here! Hah!"

Taken aback, Seraeyl asked, "Really? How do you know?"

"A few were taken prisoner after the battle," Rua answered simply.

"Oh."

"Immortality, pfah! Of course they would want that something awful! They found quite the opposite here, though ... eventually, anyway."

"Oh," said Seraeyl again, for lack of a better response to make.

Rua was quiet for a moment, but then spoke up again. "It's not that simple, living past your appointed time. Of course when they first hear about it, they think all it'll take is to march in here and demand a piece, just lay claim to it, and it'll be theirs forever -- immortality, that is. They never expect that it will be hard work or any kind of difficult; they never worry about the costs that follow along -- they just think that everything would be so much easier, so clear and so simple, if they only had our power -- just decide how things should be and that will be that. Peasants and fools, the lot of them!"

Faced with an unexpected bout of Mistress Rua's rare but withering outbursts, Seraeyl kept her head down, silent and meek, lest the elderly teacher's legendary wrath be turned in her direction next. She held her breath, hoping to safely weather the storm, but all of a sudden, Rua seemed to run out of fire. The old woman sighed, and her shoulders sagged a little, so that she seemed a little deflated, almost subdued.

"Immortality, pfah. Who needs to live forever?" she muttered, wondering aloud.

"Do you think it's possible?" Seraeyl dared to inquire.

"What, to live forever? Certainly, I know of a few people who have managed -- are managing -- to live much longer than usual. I suppose that's about the same thing. It's not that complicated, really -- I've heard of some who mastered it without ever even learning any magic, in a manner of speaking."

"Who?"

Rua gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Not I, obviously. I decided it wasn't for me, living forever. It's their choice if they want to do it, and in any case they can always stop -- if they can bear to, after all that time. As for me, I tend to think that life is long enough as is -- and imagine if everyone started living forever, how much trouble that would be!"

Seraeyl regarded the woman before her for a moment, the two of them standing in the shadows at the edge of the lamplight. With tanned brown skin, and clad in heavy robes dyed a deep and severe blue, Mistress Rua was nearly invisible in the near-darkness but for her silver hair, which she wore in a tightly gathered bun behind her head. There was a lot more white than Seraeyl remembered, and hardly any trace of silver left.

But she was still every bit as strong as the woman Seraeyl remembered from all those years ago -- Mistress Rua still stood tall and confident, her grey eyes hard with perfect certainty, and her chin raised in proud defiance to the myriad vagaries of fate. She caught sight of Seraeyl's wistful gaze, and harrumphed.

"No point thinking about it anymore, girl -- it's far too late for me now: my body is tired, and riddled with agues -- and you'd sooner raise the dead than smooth out these wrinkles of mine. What's there to prolong? If anything, I'm looking forward to getting it all over with."

"Don't say that." Seraeyl laid her hand against Rua's arm.

Rua harrumphed again, turning to go. "It's late -- late in my years, and late in the day. It's no decent hour for any lady to be out and about. Come along, girl."

"Coming, mistress." Seraeyl followed obediently after her teacher, who slipped off the blanket and draped it over her folded arms for a moment longer, then laid it down on a stone bench along the way, for a servant in the palace to retrieve.

As they passed through a pool of dim lamplight, Seraeyl saw the old woman frown and turn her head, glaring darkly into the shadows at seemingly nothing in particular, before storming on down the halls of the palace once more.