Ardella said no words to this, only tapping her flute recursively on her palm. Rather annoying. Ivory took the initiative. "Now, since I believe no other words are to be spoken, do leave now?"
The woman lingered for a moment. "Is that a no?"
Ivory leaned back. "You refuse my words?"
"I want clarity."
A sigh escaped her lungs. "Then you have it…" Then, in a sharper tone: "Leave."
Ardella smirked. Her eyes—those unusually sharpened edges—peered in. Ivory was unsure of the mother of this woman; however, the Wanes were not known to have such eyes, especially not in a gray quality. This woman was different. She was something else.
Perhaps she will be joining my Small Council… The thoughts circled within, spilling out the obvious effects of such an act. For one, this woman was hardly trustworthy; even now, she exuded that air of deep defiance, much more than that of a normal BrightCrown. That told something. That told of a nature that could not be easily controlled.
And Ivory could not have that. Not now, not when the Principal of Valor was on the verge of collapse. Something as unpredictable as this Ardella could not be added into the midst.
It was a failure's recipe.
Her fingers twirled a single strand of hair, lost in mentation. She was pondering the steps to take.
Truthfully, Ardella's offer was appetizing, to say the least. A new Lord of a Vassal Clan—a woman at that would speak greater words than hers. After all, to the other Lords, Ivory was as worthy of the sealSeat as a black-skinned Fermen from the Great Desert.
Should I then do it? Her finger tapped at the edge of the seat. It would be such an easy thing.
Argent was gone now, far into the Free Cities, gathering whatever army it was that the dead Lord had created. Thus, killing him would be quite a hard thing to achieve. Of course, there were the blacker methods. Perhaps some wandering Blademaster, or perhaps a Fermen… I could even force the Ashmen to give me one of their best… There were so many ways.
She paused. Maybe not the Ashmen. Eyes closed. I can't have those men waging war against Valor because of some banal belief of theirs. She nodded. Fanaticism is often too dangerous a weapon to attack, and the Ashmen, undoubtedly, were fanatics.
A breath escaped her lungs. What then was the right option? To accept this woman and hope she does not become another Kab—Heid? Kill Argent and Ardella to solidify my power by absorbing the Wane Clan back into the Valor House… Or… do I seek aid from the Church?
Her eyes snapped open. Let's not even joke about that! The Church, in all likelihood, would desire nothing but to end the Valor Clan. Even if their so-called Prophecies of the Promised Sun hinged on the New God being born from the Great Clans, they would still, without a moment's hesitation, render us too weak to do anything. I can't have that!
"I suppose there's a—" Ivory looked up, lips awed….Unexpectedly, the hall was empty. From the large pillars that held up the roof, to the sleek, glossy floors, and even the massive gate that often rippled with Eltium—there was no one. Ardella… she was gone.
She actually listened to me? A smile curled up Ivory's face. Perhaps I can yet mold her for what I need. She nodded. Likely it would take some time, but maybe, just maybe…
Ivory leaned back in the chair, eyes staring up toward the high ceiling. So far away it was that perception could not accurately view its surface. She sensed a significance in that craft. The Highness of Valor was beyond all, and their ceiling—their limit—was something that should never be seen.
That's what I must become! Her eyes closed, tired. I must become that force. I must—be—perfect! Without flaws… Without… consequence…
A sweet darkness swallowed her thoughts. Then, like a jolt of current, she awoke to a strangeness. A space, massive, black on all sides of the world, nearly endless in the way her eyes could peer little of its end.
I'm dreaming again, she realized, reaching her palm toward her face. Translucent they were, which fitted into the known data she had gained. Weeks it had been since her first true dream wandering the darkness, and since then, time had been spent learning the corresponding data from deadEyes and a few Scholae she had found.
In the end, a singular truth was present: the darkness was her mind, a subconscious space within. Often, this space was filled with one's memories or nonsense that effectively were labeled as dreams, but to a caster, a significant control existed. That control reflected on this space. Simply put: the more in control the caster was of their mind, the fewer things appeared here. An oddity indeed.
Ivory walked on, realizing then the significance of those words. Most likely, she had the greatest cognitive control of all casters within her generation. Although, the usefulness of this trait was simply the faster ability of total recollection. That's it. It was still something.
She eyed a side of the darkness. "The last time I was here, I couldn't sense anything... I hadn't truly snapped, but now… it seems quite easier to know when something foreign exists in my own head."
Silence.
Her gaze narrowed. "So that's how you do it…" she said. "You invade my mind and pull me into your world, isn't that right, I AM?"
A brightness erupted into the darkness, banishing all tenebrosity, replacing it with a wave of violent whiteness. Endless, Ivory was stunned. Perhaps before, without the true familiarity of the Caster, she could not sense it, but now… standing in the midst of this infinite light, she knew a great power was present in it. And another: the Light was not just some symbol, no, not even one force… it was two!
The whiteness pulled back, red flora and trees in the distance springing up from the radiance. It was as though a world was growing around her. Ivory lingered, noting… this I AM has two forces, the mind and the soul… and both of them are far bigger than even those of a Saint!
The world settled, a bright white orb shining high in that sky of meshed colors. Blues within red, gold within purple—like a cacophony of shades. And more, she could see it. Beyond the black castle that rested in the center of the gardens, there were others in the distance. Vast black structures, mountains, clouds… even patches of forest far, far into the range. It was akin to a city… no, even greater than that.
What was this thing up to? Her eyes drifted to the thing before her. Seated it was, dressed in those elegant black clothes, sleek with some parts of silver markings. Was he imitating the style of the Valors? She knew certain Formless often changed based on interaction and the beliefs toward them. Was it the same for I AM?
Nonetheless, his head and features remained obscured by that bright whiteness… perhaps he had no face to speak of. Who would know?
"Greetings, I AM," she said, watching, learning. Yet, there was only a slight rumble from it. She continued. "You have built a world here… a city… You seem to be getting stronger." How was that even happening?
"Hmmm." Another rumble.
She pressed on. "I give my thanks for the power you had given me. It was a great boon for the thing I needed to achieve. I believe I now owe you a—"
"WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN VALOR, IVORY?"
She froze. He knew? Tense. How did it know? Her mind swirled. Don't tell me Eiyas somehow also gives information to Symbols? I mean, there's a possibility of that, given Eiyas are made from symbols… no, everything is. Does that mean I AM is able to get information from anything?
She poised, back straightened. Likely not; if he did, then what was the point of asking about the attack? She sighed within. "It was the Fermen."
The light flickered for a moment.
Hmm? She noted that, but continued. "The Fermen had somehow gotten into Cintry Range and hid in the bodies of some of the attendees—handmaidens or others with significantly weaker force. Then, during my coronation, they emerged, killing the former Lord of Wane and many others within my clan."
"YOU WERE THE TARGET."
"Most likely," she said. "They had done much worse… they had poisoned my father with the Crimson Rot."
The light again flickered.
Ivory lingered….Mist..
I don't want to talk about this. "Tell me, I AM?" she muttered. "What exactly is this place, the changes?"
There was silence for a moment, then: "IT IS THE PLACE WHERE MY PEOPLE COME TO DREAM!"
People? Ivory was stunned. He has people? But then again, this information fitted accurately to what was known about the Formless. They were symbols, and often belief shaped what they were. In that sense, it was logical that this I AM was formed from the belief of some people… but who were they?
She added in a soft tone, "This must be their Dreaming."
The light buzzed loudly now. Was that acceptance of the name?