One afternoon while Eloise was meeting Audrey for their regular Tuesday lunch date, she began to playfully broach the topic of Audrey’s relational status (knowing that she was voluntarily single); and in the manner that women often laugh and tease amongst each other, she followed suit in making a game out of noting prospects around the restaurant. It came in the order of Eloise pointing someone out and Audrey indicating approval with knowing expressions.


    Daring to go further, Eloise would make attempts at reading their thoughts. When Audrey would catch her, she would convey her mild disapproval, “Stop it now,” she would say half laughing, “they’ll catch you, Eloise.” But that was all part of the game: Aesthetes were much harder to read than Innocents, and Eloise was having fun with the challenge.


    “Oh, come now, you talk as if there’s an Orwellian Thought Police out there to condemn me as some kind of thought criminal.”


    Audrey laughed a little more, “Well it’s not against the law but still, have some respect for privacy…” She paused to take a sip of her cabernet while looking at Eloise over the rim of her glass “Alright so tell me already, have you found anyone interesting?”


    “Ha! So you think you can have your cake and eat it too?”


    “Yes-yes, now tell me."


    Eloise took her turn to laugh. “Well, it seems that we have a particularly keen bunch this afternoon. But that man over there,” Eloise indicated to a slender, middle-aged fellow with a toss of her eyes over Audrey’s left shoulder, “is something of a director for Hollywood films. They must be filming in Brighton; I saw images of the set. I think it’s espionage related.”


    Audrey kept herself from making the hundred-and-eighty degree turn, “Hmm, interesting. Anything else.”


    “Not at the moment. Like I said, they’re a very keen bunch.”


    What Eloise meant by this, being surrounded by a ‘keen bunch,’ was that they were actively keeping up their defenses from Aesthetes. And here was the main difficulty in reading Aesthetes: it was the fact that they were educated on how to safeguard their thoughts by thinking in pictures rather than in words. This however was a terribly hard thing to break into habit. It was like having to translate foreign words into your mother tongue before understanding its meaning. When people didn’t get past this mental-index-card-flipping-phase and progress into fluency with the language (or in this case, what was called their picture dialect), it became very unlikely that they’d proceed to use it regularly. Here, the saying, ‘if you don’t use it you lose it’, even applies to Aesthetes. Another trying aspect about developing a picture dialect was that it wasn’t communal; it’s purpose was to be a private language. Thus, it was only to be understood by you and you alone.


    As a result, those who weren’t too inclined to secrecy naturally developed a half-and-half method, going back and forth from words to pictures evenly. This way, if their thoughts were being read, the whole thing would come with muted gaps. Which for them was good enough: In effect, trying to understand their thought at length would be as difficult as trying to understand a conversation you kept leaving and returning to.


    “Then what does tha-”


    “Ah, just a moment,” Eloise lifted her free index finger, “I’m receiving a call…” Eloise didn’t recognize the number and was uncertain of who it could be. “Hello?”


    It was the sound of this ‘hello’ that instantly put Audrey in a different head space. A sense that the future was rapidly encroaching. She knew what it was. She had had visions before. But none so terrific and terrifying as this one.


    She saw Arran…


    Audrey was in a daze when Eloise got off the phone, but she was too frazzled to notice anything out of the ordinary.


    “Audrey,” she solemnly began, keeping eye contact at bay.


    “I know,” Audrey replied softly, as one in the spirit of omniscience.


    “What?” Eloise looked up at Audrey curiously; and what was there was a face that contrasted her own – a look of certainty.


    “I know it’s about Arran.”


    Eloise inhaled deeply and prepared her mind for what she was about to hear. She knew there was only one thing that could make such an alteration to a person in so little time (she herself was no stranger to visions).


    “Tell me what you’ve seen.”


    ***


    The next day, Eloise arrived at the Metropole of Erudition with Audrey. They had arranged to meet Arran for dinner. Arran supposed that this would be about the encounter he had with the shadow. He knew that Eloise would never just message him out of the blue about a spontaneous visit – being the ‘type A’ planner she was. Not only that, but Audrey was the same way.


    “So yes,” Arran told Dominic before leaving a study lounge, “to believe that both of them had the idea of a last-minute trip, especially one for the sole purpose of ‘checking in on me’, is absolutely absurd. I mean, how na?ve do they really think I am?”


    ***


    When Arran got to the restaurant, he saw that Eloise and Audrey were already seated waiting for him.


    Eloise had her back to the door, so it was Audrey, who was sitting across from her, that welcomed him first with a contagious smile. Eloise followed her smile by making a 45 degree turn, and looking over her shoulder, greeted the last member of her party with welcome a smile of her own. always conscientious to apply proper etiquette – even if it was with her own son.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    When Arran arrived at the table he insisted that they stay seated, but Audrey couldn’t help herself. She rose from her chair gracefully and wrapped her hands around his back.


    “It’s good to see again, Arran.” She drew a step back to take a good look at him and he took the chance to do the same.


    Physically, there was much to appreciate about her. Audrey was a slim creature with dark eyes and vibrant red hair, a feature of hers that was especially spectacular in London’s gray environment. Her style of dress was also something to contend with: having a taste for Versace and Dior, she sported a sleeveless denim blouse that complimented a pleated skirt – screening most of the legs at the profit of serving attention to her hips. Arran thought that she was as chic as ever.


    “You look great,” Audrey said with sincerity.


    Arran returned the compliment and saw his mother rise from her seat.


    “Mum,” he acknowledged her as they airkissed each other’s right cheek. This was one of Eloise’ few customs she preserved that traced back to her Spanish lineage. Though it was only done with a select few.


    After they all took to their chairs, Arran folded his napkin into his lap and Arran exchanged equal glances at his visitors.


    “So…To what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu visit from the two most organized individuals that I know?”


    Audrey looked slightly uncomfortable as she glanced at the woman across from her; but Eloise knew that Arran might be different given his recent acquaintance with the shadow. He’d be less agreeable. More critical. And of course, he’d be cutting to the chase.


    She kept her intelligent eyes on him. “I know you know why we’re here, Arran.”


    “Oh, you mean it isn’t just your general checking in on me then?”


    “I never said anything about general.”


    “Then get specific.”


    Eloise and Audrey exchanged glances this time.


    “How are you feeling, Arran?” Audrey asked.


    “Perfectly well.”


    During the moments Arran spoke, he felt a slight intrusion. He knew it was his mother; he was expecting her to take advantage of his dividing attention as he responded to Audrey.


    When Arran pushed her energy out aggressively, he turned back to face her. “You’re not welcome to just sneak around my mind whenever you please.”


    And right then for the first time, as he looked into Eloise’s eyes with a hard expression, he saw her guard fall. It was a reaction of genuine shock.


    Yet, this didn’t alter Arran’s mood. “Was this your plan – to get Audrey to talk to me while you snooped around in my mind?”


    At that moment the waiter swept in with a cart of food and placed each plate in front of the person that would give it its due.


    Eloise and Audrey were grateful for the distraction; and the latter angled for a change in subject.


    …


    “So what was it like?”


    “What was what like?”


    “Using the shadow. I know it’s treated as somewhat taboo, the harm and difficulty that comes with it and whatnot. But still, this is an accomplishment you know? In fact, as far as I’m concerned, congratulations are in order.” Audrey raised her glass of chardonnay.


    Arran felt better with this encouragement, the first he’d actually gotten since the accident. “Thanks Audrey. And to answer your question,” Arran paused not knowing what to say next; there was so much to the question.


    “It was an incredible thing,” Arran confessed, “Never had I moved so fast in and through another person’s mind…I don’t even think she felt me there.”


    Audrey gave a resonate hmmm, as one does to show when they’re well acquainted with a said experience.


    “And I suppose you’ve heard about what happened with professor Callaway?”


    “I have. And yes, it’s unfortunate. But accidents happen from time to time,” Audrey threw up her hands in protest, “Hell, what are they going to do, punish you for doing your damn homework?”


    Arran smiled and raised his own glass in acknowledging a point well put. But after returning his water to its rightful place, his attention fell to the woman on his right; it was for how quiet she was being. He looked at her and remembered something he had long been thinking about.


    “Mum, why didn’t you ever teach me about the shadow?”


    Eloise was raising her fork to her mouth when the question was asked, a portion of lobster tail in transit. But instead returning her forearm to the table’s edge, she elected to finish her movement. She chewed as she lifted her chin – looking as if she were giving more attention to the taste of the lobster than she was giving thought to Arran’s question.


    Arran became annoyed as he watched her. It was the same thing he saw in Alexander’s condescension chin-raise. It was that which he didn’t want to become.


    Eloise turned to severe another piece of lobster before answering. “Didn’t your private tutors cover it?”


    “No.”


    “Well, they were supposed to. I recall putting meditation on the curriculum.”


    “Oh of course you did,” Arran said icily. “I’m sure you put psychoschismatics on the curriculum too.”


    Eloise was about to take another bite; only this time she returned her fork to the plate. “You can’t blame me for what your tutors failed to teach you.”


    Arran glared at Eloise with a contempt so total that it made Eloise swallow what could’ve been the lobster on her fork.


    “No, Eloise,” Arran said as he placed his napkin on his plate and stood up. “I blame you for what you failed to teach me.”


    ***


    Audrey was in the passenger seat next to Eloise as their hovercraft navigated itself back to London. A heavy awkwardness had lingered between them after Arran stormed out of the restaurant. And it was still in effect.


    “So why didn’t you ever teach him about the shadow?” Audrey asked.


    “To be honest,” Eloise sighed as she kept her eyes ahead, “I was scared to.”


    “I understand that, Eloise. More than anyone–”


    “Then why would you ask me in the first place?”


    Eloise’s sharpness caused Audrey’s brows to furrow. “Did it ever occur to you that Arran would eventually learn of the shadow sometime – as he already has – and that it would be a greater harm to him than to not have any knowledge of it?”


    Eloise was quiet.


    “Listen,” Audrey continued, "I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Or to point blame. What’s done is done. But now we have something of a situation on our hands.”


    “Did you see his face when he caught me trying to read his mind?”


    Eloise’s question was in a drifting tone and Audrey had to force the memory up with a sigh for thinking it irrelevant. “Yes. Sure. What about it?”


    Eloise shook her head. “It was in his eyes. They reminded me so much of him.”


    “Alastair?”


    Eloise nodded.


    “Yes,” Audrey said, trying to be more empathetic. “Their blues are remarkably similar.”


    “No. Not the blues. Not their shape. Not their size. Of course, that’s there.” Eloise paused, a little exasperated. “It was something else. The dark shade swirling in them at the expanse/dilation of his pupils–”


    “No, that’s enough. We’re not going there. Arran is not Alistair. They’re not even close.”


    “Before tonight Audrey, I thought the very same thing. On the way up here I kept reminding myself of all the ways that their not the same. But when Arran pushed me out so abruptly – so powerfully – and looked me in the eyes, I couldn’t help but see his father…”


    They were both quiet for a moment before Eloise continued. “Perhaps your vision is correct.”


    “Visions aren’t always correct. You know this. And every kid goes through difficult times at this stage in life. We just have to be there for him. He’ll be okay.”


    I don’t want him to become that, Audrey.” Eloise was looking more helpless than Audrey had ever seen her.


    “Arran can’t become Alastair.”