“I got into a fight with Sheilah because of you, you know.” Magdalene accused Toril at dinner.


    Toril rolled his eyes. “Taking the girls hunting was good for them. They enjoyed themselves. Just because you don’t get it-” He stopped, and picked up his napkin and wiped his hands. “What happened?”


    Magdalene let out a breath in a long sigh. “You might not know this, but I look forward to teaching Sheilah.” She paused. “Fialla too, I suppose.” she added. “I get to spend time with the daughter I had so long ago. Even when it drives me up the wall.” She shook her head. “So when they came back from their perfectly reasonable outing with you, I stupidly lost my temper for no reason at all.”


    Toril grimaced. “How bad?” was all he asked.


    “Bad or worse news?” Magdalene asked, but waved her hand to indicate it was a rhetorical question.


    “She obviously put me in my place, since the outing was your idea and not hers.” Magdalene explained. Toril nodded at that.


    “Go on.”


    “She told me that since she’d returned to Stormheim, the arrangement with Davian was fulfilled, and if she chose to, she was free to leave at any time.”


    Toril lowered his head into his hands. “Oh, no.” He groaned. He took a long breath, and when he looked up at her, there was anger in his expression. “If she does decide to leave, you realize this is completely on you, you know. I’m not-” He started, and realized his voice was rising. “She’s our only heir, Mag. I don’t know what -” He cut himself off again, and got up from the table and paced around a little.


    “What else?” He finally asked after a minute of pacing.


    “She pulled her knife and decided to cut off Andrea’s head because she didn’t bring tea.” Magdalene replied. “Fialla put a stop to that one though, and by that time Sheilah was behaving... really oddly at that point. Fialla explained to me that Sheilah... might be a little... unstable.”


    Toril froze at that. “Oh, no.” He repeated. “Normally there might be ways around it, but-” He sighed again. “We’ll have to do our best.” He looked at his wife. “You’ll have to do your best.”


    Magdalene nodded. “Do you know about her ... powers? Gifts? Whatever they should be called? Is it magic?”


    Toril firmed his mouth. “I know a little from what Davian told me. From what others saw of him. I know it’s not magic. I know she has gifts, but since they’re hers, I decided to trust her to use whatever those gifts are, responsibly.”


    “Well, you’re doing better than me.” Magdalene complained bitterly.


    Toril laughed at that. “Of course I am. She calls me ‘father’ now.” He replied smugly.


    “You’re going to be absolutely incorrigible now, aren’t you?” Magdalene complained.


    “No, not really.” He replied simply. “I earnestly hope for the day she calls you mother,” he added.


    “Can-” Magdalene began, but held back.


    “Mmm?” Toril asked, turning his attention to her.


    “Can I sleep with you tonight?” Magdalene asked in an uncharacteristic, nervous, childlike voice.


    Toril nodded, came around the table they shared, and held out his hand, which she took. As she rose to her feet, he captured her in a hug.


    “We’ll figure out a way to deal with this, Mag.” He murmured in her ear.


    *****


    In her dream, Sheilah stood in the ashen wastelands of the Burning Lands, her clothes wavering between a Stormheim dress and her comfortable dragonskin leathers. Her feet grit in the ash and dust, and little bits of pumice ground beneath her feet.


    A skeleton of a Tyrant Dragon lay nearby, one of its massive teeth missing. Sheilah was certain that she’d be able to see marks on the ribcage where she cut into it with her knife if she checked, although she had no pressing need to.


    Another version of herself stood next to the skeleton. Her eyes glowed with feral light, her dragon skin armor seemed to have become part of her somehow, and two gleaming bone horns erupted from her hair at the back of her head. She grinned at Sheilah, revealing a mouthful of predator’s teeth.


    Neither of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said.


    They lunged forward, clawed hands slamming into each other, a twinned scream rising from their throats as Supremacy warred against Supremacy.


    For a few minutes, everyone in the city of Stormheim felt themselves caught in the paralyzing grip of dread and fear. Since most of them were asleep, it filtered into their dreams, forcing them to confront terrible nightmares.


    Babies cried, and their mothers were unable to soothe them, even as their own adrenaline forced their hearts to race as they uneasily clutched their children to their breasts. Some of the elderly, the infirm, the weak died in their beds.


    Dogs cringed and howled at the night, pigs squealed, chickens in their coops, mice huddled in their holes as cats darted from place to place, seeking refuge from a menace that couldn’t be seen, heard, or smelled.


    Damiel dreamed of a great, shadowy monster of darkness and flame, crawling its way out of some hidden recess of the world while Eatha, the wife of the missing Artrus reached for the empty space in her bed where her husband used to sleep and trembled.


    Magdalene and Toril reached out towards each other, seeking comfort from a fear neither of them could understand.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Fialla struggled to wake Sheilah, despite her own terror telling her to run from her sister.


    The nameless, shapeless fear that spread across the city lessened, faded, and vanished. Babies calmed, the dogs silenced, animals slowly and reluctantly settled down, and Sheilah opened her eyes to look up at Fialla.


    *****


    In the morning, Sheilah was listless and exhausted, but ate ravenously, working through several helpings. Andrea tried to stay out of Sheilah’s line of sight initially, but she was pretty sure that Sheilah was aware of her anyway, given her baffling ability to seemingly see through walls. Eventually, it became obvious to her that Sheilah was ignoring her.


    Magdalene showed up as she usually did, though she seemed a little bit more reserved than she usually was.


    “Today, we’re going to go through the fundamentals of dance.”


    “Dance?” Fialla asked curiously. “We have dance in the Redstone. I wonder if it’s anything like Stormheim.”


    “I suppose we’ll find out.” Magdalene replied. “There’s a room set aside for dance training in the North Wing-” She began, but Sheilah gave her a puzzled look and interrupted her.


    “Does there really need to be a separate room for each individual thing?” Sheilah asked, with an irritated frown.


    “For learning how to dance, yes.” Magdalene replied. She pointed at her feet, and took a few steps. “There are diagrams painted on the floor that will show you how to move your feet.” She gave a little shrug. “I’ve even found you a practice partner.”


    Sheilah thought for a moment, and then nodded.


    “I’ve given you a couple of dancing dresses for you two to change into. They’re the blue and green ones. Once you’re dressed properly, we’ll head over and get started.” She made a little shooing gesture with her hands, and moved the study, making a little gesture with her hand at Andrea.


    Sheilah exchanged looks with Fialla, and then headed to the dressing room.


    “Do you plan on killing Andrea?” Fialla asked as they changed into their ‘dancing’ dresses.


    “What? Why would I-” Sheilah began, but cut herself off. “Ah.”


    “You remember.” Fialla confirmed.


    “My mind was all over the place, but I remember that much. And no, I don’t plan on killing her. Trusting her- no.”


    Fialla nodded.


    *****


    The Dancing Room didn’t just have the movements for one dance inscribed on the floor, it had the foot work for every dance inscribed on the floor, each set of footprints designated by a number, which made Sheilah glare at Magdalene- because Magdalene knew she was bad at numbers.


    Fialla, who was better at recognizing numbers and making the association between symbol and representation, could see that corresponding diagrams on the walls illustrated the accompanying arm movements for each dance.


    She tapped Sheilah’s shoulder, and pointed on the floor, and then to the diagrams on the wall.


    “Ugh. I don’t know what any of this means.” Sheilah complained.


    “You’re just intimidated. It’s really quite simple.” Magdalene replied. “I’ll show you-”


    Sheilah and Fialla immediately frowned and lifted their chins arrogantly, like mirrors. “I’m not intimidated.” they replied in stereo.


    “Is that so?” Magdalene replied, an eyebrow lifted. “Well, I’ll demonstrate. This is the basic waltz," Magdalene explained, pointing to the first set of footprints. "It''s the foundation of all Stormheim dances. Let''s start with the first eight steps."


    She demonstrated the sequence, her movements fluid and graceful. “Watch the floor, where I put my feet.” She pointed to the diagrams on the floor, and then began dancing, back straight, eyes forward. Her feet matched the diagrams perfectly, despite never looking down.


    She stepped away from the diagram. “You recall when I pointed out how to walk- how to carry yourself as a lady- that a woman walks with a rhythm, a cadence and posture that reflects grace and poise. You two at the beginning looked like cats stalking mice. There’s grace in that, but no elegance. Also, a lady does not stalk, she glides. She is no warrior, because she has others to be warriors for her. She is no predator, because... well, there’s no need for her to hunt.” She stumbled over the alliteration towards the end.


    She paused. “Well, sometimes there are men worth hunting.” She murmured with a fond smile. After a moment, her face cleared, and gestured to the footprints in the floor. “First, practice the movements here, as I showed you. Normally, they’re accompanied with a man who will face you, one hand on your hip, like so.”


    “How does she do it?” Fialla marveled quietly.


    “Practice, obviously.” Sheilah replied, but frowned with a stubborn expression. “I’ll have to concentrate if I am to get this properly, so hush.”


    Sheilah and Fialla mirrored her actions, their initial clumsiness gradually giving way to a semblance of rhythm.


    “You’re picking it up very quickly.” Magdalene encouraged. “Two more rounds of that, and then I’ll have your partner join in and help.”


    She gestured, and Andrea moved towards the door, revealing a young man they’d met before; although the last time they’d seen him he was somewhat disheveled and very drunk.


    “Sten Jurgenheim.” Fialla muttered warily.


    “You should have invited Tierra as well, Aunt.” Sten greeted the older woman. “That one is in desperate need of a feminine instruction.”


    “Tierra?” Magdalene asked, confused. “Tierra, Tierra...” She mused. “The Hallstrom daughter?” She asked, and Sten nodded.


    “She’s halfway to becoming a man as it is, wearing a man’s armor and swinging a sword around.” He complained.


    “The Hallstrom holdings are in the Southlands, if I recall correctly.” Magdalene murmured. “Far enough away that they can forget that they are a part of Stormheim. It’s a frontier land, barely civilized. I’ve heard there are barbarians that live-” She cut herself off at that.


    Sten let out a sigh, and turned to the girls that were practicing their steps.


    “A little old to be learning a basic waltz at this level.” He muttered, confused. “And those ears on the other one- an elf? You want me to dance with an-”


    “She’s a half- elf,” Magdalene corrected, “And absolutely needs to be kept as far away as possible from the Dark Elves. She has... expressed an... intense murderous opinion on their continued presence.”


    He gave Magdalene a confused look. “A half-elf?” He asked, baffled and amazed. He switched tacks quickly though. “I don’t understand the problem, Aunt. Point her in the direction of them and let her go nuts.”


    Magdalene rolled her eyes. “If we did, the elves would treat it as an act of war, and we would all be dead in a year at the earliest.”


    He took a startled breath and let it out. “Well, that certainly explains a lot of things, given the state of our forces.” He muttered. He straightened.


    “Dancing, was it?” He asked, with a pointed look. “Well, I can do that much, at least.” He tugged on his jacket, straightening it. “The other girl- the one without the pointed ears- she’s cute. Has she debuted yet?” He asked.


    “No, not yet.” Magdalene replied, an expression of mild amusement growing on her face. “You like her, is it?”


    He smirked a little. “A little, yeah. What’s her name?”


    “Sheilah. I’m watching over her- polishing her up for her debut.” Magdalene replied, her smile growing.


    “Is that so?” He asked, a smile of his own, completely different from Magdalene’s in intent, growing on his face.