"You can go into the changing room to get rid of the traces of crying," Aisling suggested.
Sophia just shook her head. She seemed completely calm now. She requested two more teacups from the holo-pad. There was no way she'd go to the changing room. She didn't want to miss anything Solveig and the others might say, she even wanted to see their arrival.
"Not even the tea's gone cold," the girl noted.
She poured herself another cup. Aisling's teacup was still nearly full, even after a second refill.
"Hey, I see you two aren't resting either!" Sibius greeted them with a cheerful smile.
He looked like someone who had the best news in the world and was just about to spread it.
Solveig looked nearly as shaken as Lady Lívia had earlier. Only, Solveig didn't explain anything in agitation, she just stayed silent.
"Whoa, something big must've happened," Aisling thought.
Solveig even seemed to hunch her shoulders, as if trying to make herself smaller in the face of whatever it was she had just encountered.
"Rhys is fine," Sibius summed up the good news they'd brought.
"I feel like this lemon balm tea is needed more than ever today," Aisling remarked.
Sophia remained silent. She only straightened her back even more.
"What exactly happened?" Aisling finally asked in an unusually calm, chatty tone, as if she had already grown used to extremely strange events.
Under the table, Solveig quickly grabbed Sibius's hand, as if clinging to some solid point of reality. Sibius waited a little, but Solveig didn't seem ready to start telling the story.
"We were walking through the shared section of the library, and then Solveig suddenly said that Rhys is fine. Just... locked up somewhere," the boy said.
"Oh, so Drakthor locked him up somewhere in Nexoria," Aisling snapped, as she always did these days when the man was the main topic.
She thought again of that kiss and felt frustrated that she couldn't shake off the emotions, even despite her anger.
"Aisling, we don't know who it was yet," Sophia warned her to calm down.
"Solveig, how did you see this? In images? Do you know where he is?" Aisling asked the now usual questions.
"In the form of feelings and thoughts," came the terse reply.
Aisling nodded seriously and sipped her tea.
"Well, I suggest you also start practicing from today, like my mother does."
Then she told Sibius and Solveig what Lady Lívia had shared after discovering theTree of Martyrs inscription, and gave them some advice on how to practice.
"But that means Sibius will be left alone in the team researching the Brotherhood," Sophia noted.
"There'll be a meeting tomorrow morning at the Millennium Oak. We'll reorganize the teams then. It's important that those whose abilities are awakening get to practice."
They all agreed with Aisling.
"Solveig should go home and start practicing today while those feelings and thoughts are still fresh," she added.
"And an afternoon rest will do me good. And you too, Aisling."
Sophia now seemed completely at peace. She was starting to believe that Rhys could be brought back from Nexoria, even safely.
Once she was alone, Aisling took the ancient book she had studied so thoroughly and set off to return it to the Blue Room.
The majestic, cold tranquility of the Hall of Ancestors seemed to remind the family that some things were unworthy of this place. As always, Aisling first went to the Altar of the Ancestors.
"I need to bring fresh flowers. Looks like even Daphne hasn't cared about this lately," she thought.
Perhaps the last time there were fresh flowers in the vases and on the Altar of the Ancestors was the day Rhys disappeared. Just when she thought nothing could surprise her anymore, she realized how wrong she'd been.
"Of course! That day, every vase held tulips, only mine had poppies and cornflowers. That's a little strange."
She was gathering the wilted flowers. She wanted to take them to Sophia's compost bin before bringing new ones. She'd learned this too from old Larthia when she and Ulf joined the woman's creative circle.
"Maybe that's why I had such strange feelings that day when I looked at the flowers."
Aisling knew well that there were rational reasons for intuitions. She only had to think of the day when Sophia dreamed that Nyx, the black cat, would get sick. There had already been signs the day before, only no one consciously registered them. Sophia's mind, in its resting state, pieced them together and expressed them as dream images.
"Yes, that might be why I had those strange feelings that day...and later too, whenever I looked at flowers. I missed a detail, something my conscious mind didn't register. Yes, it's very likely that's what caused those feelings," she mused while walking toward the compost bin.
"I'll ask Daphne about it. After all, we're examining everything unusual from that day."
By the time she returned to the Hall of Ancestors with fresh flowers, Aodhan had already taken the book she'd left at the Altar back to the Blue Room.
"Hey! Your mother sent me down to the orchard so she could practice something," he laughed.
"Yeah, looks like she's one of the Twelve, and her abilities are starting to awaken," she informed her father.
"Well, great...everyone knows but me."
"Oh, no, she asked how to practice, then left me standing there without a word."
There was no resentment in their voices.
"No problem. I want to find Cassius and Daphne anyway. They didn't answer the doorbell. Maybe they're in the garden."
"They're not there either, but I want to talk to Daphne too. We can look for them together."
"I think they went to Daphne's parents."
"Nobody's resting this afternoon, it seems. Solveig has already started practicing too."
"No way? Well, that's great," Aodhan exclaimed.
"Sophia's the only one who isn't happy about it. You haven't felt anything strange yourself, right?" she asked.
"Not me," her father replied.
"No strange dreams either?" Aisling pressed further, trying to rule out the possibility that her father also belonged to the Twelve and was beginning to awaken.
"Nope. No strange dreams either."
"Great. At least not you. Sophia's worried about us."
"I'm not worried. I know that whatever you're facing, you'll handle it."
Aisling was about to answer when the holo-gate in the Hall of Ancestors showed activity. They both turned to look. They waited curiously to see which family member would appear in the flickering blue-and-gold spiral of the gate.
It was Lady Lívia. This time she appeared with ceremonial composure, as if she were dressed for a Mentor Farewell or the Festival of the Martyrs. Even her hair had been arranged differently. Her very appearance suggested that she was about to announce something of great importance.
"So, how is the practice going?" Aisling asked curiously.
Lady Lívia lifted her chin slightly and began to speak in a slow, dignified tone.
"I was born in Nexoria two hundred years after the Great Massacre."
Fully aware of how vital it was to gather every possible piece of information about Nexoria, she paused for dramatic effect, as though she were delivering a crucial monologue in Lady Bertha's amateur theatre group.
"Did you write down what you felt, what you saw, what you experienced?" Aisling asked eagerly.
"No. I was so happy when I began to perceive these things that the sensations, thoughts, and visions simply faded away," the woman replied. It did not trouble her in the least that she had brought back so few memories. She belonged to the Twelve; she had gained certainty. And that was what mattered now.
"This was my time—the moment when I awakened," she added solemnly.
The impact was immediate. Aisling stood silent for long minutes, thinking. Oh yes—during those few moments, everything she knew about the Brotherhood and the timelines raced through her mind.
Aodhan said nothing either. He merely stepped closer to Lady Lívia.
"So you believe that the members of the Twelve first awakened on different timelines, in different eras."
Aisling had not expected such a firm response.
"Yes."
Nor such a concise one.
"Then this is, so far, our closest and most reliable information, because it is based on lived experience," Aodhan concluded.
Lady Lívia took Aodhan's arm. She looked at her husband with mild guilt, having sent him out of their shared living space to walk in the orchard because of the practice.
"Now we can look at the garden together."
"Oh, Mother—Solveig will start practicing tomorrow as well. Rhys is all right. Solveig felt it. He's sheltered somewhere," Aisling added quickly.
"Really?" Lady Lívia exclaimed, delighted.
"I'm glad that Solveig may be able to make contact with Rhys. And you—when will you practice?" her father asked.
Aisling knew exactly how obsessed someone could become once they were able to bring these experiences across. She knew that enthusiasm well—the one reflected on her mother's face. But she did not feel that enthusiasm now. Her thoughts lingered on that kiss. Then on the fact that Drakthor had called her a jewel thief. Perhaps it was because of these conflicting emotions that the practice had not been working lately.
"No matter how hard I try, I can't remember that life lately," she said quietly at last.
"You should rest this afternoon. Perhaps it will work again once you're calm," Lady Lívia suggested.
Aisling finally laughed.
"Mother, you sent everyone off to rest, yet it seems no one is resting this afternoon."
"Yes… for some reason the Brotherhood has begun to awaken rapidly. From tomorrow on, many will be practicing. Tomorrow we'll have to reorganize the research teams again. And today we still need to visit Larthia."
Lady Lívia's girlish enthusiasm softened once more into that of a thoughtful organizer.
"I can visit Old Larthia, if you want to practice," Aisling offered.
"You will rest today. We need your abilities, your memories," her mother said firmly, allowing no argument.
And obediently, Aisling turned toward her room.
Well, sooner or later I'll have to practice again, she thought. I'll rest a little, then try again later.