Well, if I do wind up coming home, I will come with a bit of leadership experience.  I still hope not to to attract a patron, but I am trying to look on the upside of it, or I shall cry.  I have not invoked the channeling ability of the Muse of Painting, a fact which doubtless you would approve of, but painting proceeds apace nonetheless.  They have, however, lightened the pressure on us to produce as much as we possibly can, after an encounter in the instruction hall.  I am wondering if I could return and take over the family business, but not marry


    Marble and I are… doubtless serious.  I think we would be having the bell tower rung, were it not for the basic problem of patronage, engagement, and my returning to the family business.  I don’t have the nerve to face down my parents on that particular issue, even with recent studies of the Powers.  Then, too, I’m not sure whether I could bear seeing Marble practice and improve while I was stuck poring over ledgers.  Of course, I won’t improve at all if I rely upon my angel, so maybe that’s a moot point and I should woman up and broach the subject with my parents of an engagement to Marble.  They would probably love marrying the Duchess of Clearwater, even if it obliterated the family name.  I don’t actually know whether they would be made courtesy Lady and Lord, but even so…


    Vaterin shook her head.  I’m thinking too much.  And besides, I need to be collected for this.  She stood before the door to the chambers of Mother Superior Honoria, trying to summon the nerve to knock.  In the end, whoever said “the One God helps those who help themselves” was wrong, Vaterin thought as the door opened and the short brown Mother Superior stood before her.  “How can I help you, pupil Vaterin?”


    She took a deep breath, and bowed, making the sign of the God-Star.  “Mother Superior, I wanted to know why fire runes are used to light logs in the fireplaces, but fire runes aren’t simply used to be the fireplaces.”


    “That is an interesting question.  The answer, unfortunately, fades into obscurity with the prior Age.  It is as the monks who built the Chapel of the Power of Ariel did.  We keep the practice on the assumption they knew something we didn’t.”


    “Ah.  Understood.  If it isn’t too much trouble, would you, honored Mother, mind telling me which Sister or Brother created the runes used by the College?”


    “You would be wanting Father Sauer for that, actually.  Though he was only Brother Sauer then.  As I understand, the two of you have struck up what approaches a friendship, between the switchbacks and your portraiture,” the Mother’s milky eyes twinkled with mischief.  “Why do you ask?”


    Vaterin swallowed.  “Well, I… I lack the focus and faith necessary to perform fire sorcery.  I know it’s possible, but I don’t believe enough in my purposes being better than the One God’s darkness and I… wanted to light candles.”


    “Go then, and ask Father Sauer.  He will likely be in his chambers, composing the evening’s sermon.  And Vaterin?”


    “Yes?”


    “He will be much more likely to answer the door if you knock.”  The Mother’s gay laughter, devoid of cruelty, echoed down the hall as Vaterin wandered towards Father Sauer’s chambers.


    This time, she did knock, and received a curt, “Come in.” When he looked up from his desk, Father Sauer said, “Ah, Vaterin.”  He put his quill in its inkwell.  “I do not believe I missed a painting session, how may I be of service.”  The sentence was as much command as question, the time of the second in command of the College a valuable thing.


    “If it pleases you, Father Sauer, I was told you made the runes on the fireplaces which ignite the logs that warm the College.”


    “This is true, what of it?”  A genuine question, asked in perplexity.


    “I was wondering,” she took a deep breath.  “I was wondering if you might do some rune work for me.  Of course, when I had the idea, I had no idea I would be asking you, I thought I would be asking one of the Sisters of Brothers.  I hope I am not being presumptuous.”


    Father Sauer crossed his arms and leaned back. “And what need do you have for fire runes?  They’ll scorch clothing, and they’re a poor substitute for honest flame.”


    “I was hoping that you might rune my right index finger and thumb, that when they meet they would pass a spark.”


    “That is an interesting request.”


    Vaterin colored.  “It is as I was telling the Mother Superior, I do not have the faith that my ways are better than the Lord’s ways, as you said, an honest flame warms more than a runed fire, but I would be able to light candles without flint and steel, or taper.”


    “This is about pupil Marble, and her night art, isn’t it?”


    Vaterin felt the blush reach her ears.  “Yes, Father.”


    “I would express reservations about devoting time for prayer and practice to romance, but Mother Honoria’s spouse was both a dedicated priest and a bountiful inspiration to her while he lived.  And since the incident with the sinkhole, the two of you have not stolen away to places which are off-limits.”  Vaterin stood stock-still, uncertain of what to say or do.  “Very well.  I will brand you with runes necessary to light candles, if you are sure that is what you want.  One question, however.  Why the right hand?  Aren’t you worried about igniting your brushes?”


    “I am left-handed, Father.”


    “Well, one would think I would have noticed that,” there was gaiety in his voice, “sitting for you as I have, but in my defense there is a canvas between us and I am focused on holding still and keeping up a conversation.  Come on over and I will prepare the brands.”


    The process of branding was no more painful than pricking her thumb with a penknife, though it took longer, and her fingers throbbed afterwards.  Vaterin found herself throughout the day looking at the symbols inscribed on her fingers, by no more than a quiet prayer and a tracing of Father Sauer’s fingertip.  She would put her fingers together to make a spark now and again, and smile to herself.  Tonight, when Marble prepares to do her painting, I will be able to help.  And imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so I have no doubt this will be well-received.


    That night, as Marble began her rounds, murmuring, “Father Supreme, bless this light with life,” Vaterin came up behind her, breathing in the scent of tulips.  This in itself did not interrupt Marble, such intimacy having become normal for the both of them and even the others in the dormitory.  However, when Vaterin placed her hands over Marble’s, she stilled.  “Yes, Vaterin?”Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    “Please, allow me to light your candles for you.”


    “Light my…?  It helps me to center myself, to pray, Vaterin.” Well sarx.


    I forgot that this is a meditative practice for her.  “I’ll just light my own candles then.”  She turned to the unoccupied bed she commonly sat on, several candles on the end table, and pinched one of the wicks between her fingers.  “Father Supreme, bless this light with life.”  Marble was watching, although her eyes were on Vaterin’s face rather than her hands, until she saw the fire.


    “You learned fire sorcery?  Oh Vaterin, that’s so sweet!”  Marble stepped close to Vaterin and clasped her hands in her own, before dropping them with a yelp.  “Your fingers are cold!  Why are your fingers cold?!”  That… wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.


    “It’s a product of the magic,” she began.


    “Sorcery does not draw anything but will from the caster.  Did you… where did you find someone to…” Marble turned Vaterin’s hand over and stared at the runes on her thumb and forefinger.  “You runed your hand?!”  Why is that a bad thing?  I was trying to do what she does, to flatter her!  What did I do?


    “What’s wrong with runing my fingers?  I just wanted… you were so sentimental about lighting candles with a little prayer.”


    “Vaterin, I am sentimental about fire sorcery because my Gramma taught it to me.  It’s an act of faith for me, and an act of love to keep alive an art she imparted to me.  What you’ve done is neither faith nor sentiment—no, that’s not entirely fair.” It’s not fair at all!  “You did it out of sentiment, but Vaterin… when will you stop taking the fast and easy way to do things?  It took me weeks to learn to make a spark from my Gramma, but you don’t want to take weeks to learn fire sorcery, to learn faith in your own free will and love of the One God, though you could have if you’d started while we were on punishment detail, instead you just had someone else brand you so that you can mechanically tap your fingers to make a spark.”


    “And what’s wrong with that?  It’s the same gesture, I prayed when I lit the candle, same as you do!  I just… I don’t have the faith that my will is better than the will of the One God, I don’t have the ability to just believe a fire will ignite.”


    “But Vaterin, you could.  You have the faith to commune with and even channel an angel, it’s the same kind of radical faith—”


    “How do you know?  You don’t channel angels, you just cast your little spell and light candles!  You haven’t summoned a spirit of any kind!  I can believe that I can offer blood and a prayer of devotion and call up a spirit I pacted with, but that’s the thing!  I pacted with the angel!  My parents made a large donation to the Church and a pastor called the angel forth and made introductions!”


    “But Vaterin, sorcery works almost the exact same way as making a pact.  When you promised offerings to the angel in exchange for supernatural gifts, that’s the act of will necessary to light a spark!  You keep doing this!  You avoid stepping out in faith, and it makes your entire venture into a cloistered college ring hollow.  You’re not even staking everything on finding a patron!  If you fail, you have your family’s wealth to fall back on.  You said it yourself, your parents made a large donation to the Church for your angel, and you conjure your Muse of Painting rather than invest the time and effort necessary to grow your own budding talent as a painter.”


    “I don’t have the time to do that!  I get one semester and then I have to go back!  Go back to ciphering, and an arranged marriage, and a life where I get to admire other people’s work without producing any of my own.”


    “‘Get to’ as though that weren’t a life many would give much for.  Not to mention, that’s still not stepping out in faith.  You could always apply for a scholarship, your Muse makes you good enough for that.  You could have her help you make one or two paintings, though obviously not this semester, and then practice with your own skills the rest of the time.  But you’re clinging to having the fallback for a life of luxury.  Is that more important, Vaterin?  Is it more important to live comfortably than to pursue your art?  Is it more important to have certainty than to—than to have me?!”  With a wave of her demicape Marble extinguished her candles and strode from the room, but not before Vaterin saw tears on her cheeks.  Well sarx, was all she could think.  She sat down on the cot and put her face in her hands, head swimming with Marble’s words.


    It looks like I need to apologize again.  And I need to write a letter home.  And I need to talk to the Mother Superior.  Because… Marble is right.  And I started down that path, but Brother Pitch derided my efforts, but that’s because this is a college of fine art and my own artistic abilities are modest.  I’m sure I could…am I brave enough?  Courageous enough, to renounce my family and their status and their wealth?  If I missed a scholarship… I wouldn’t have to step in faith for next semester, after Ophiuchus, I could find out whether I made the cut and then decide… but that wouldn’t placate Marble.  Because this isn’t about money, even if her circumstances are penurious.  This isn’t about sorcery versus a couple of runes on my fingers.  This is about… this is about…sarx, what is this about?  We keep dancing around an issue that I keep making the wrong choice in.  I love her, I love Marble so much but I keep upsetting her.  But clearly, she loves me, because she keeps trying to get it through my head what I’ve done wrong.  She cares about… faith.  And she cares about me caring about her.  So what I should do… is… should I have gone to her for the runes?  No, that’s not it either.  Again, it’s not the runes, it’s about taking the hard road.  I’ll talk to the Mother Superior in the morning.


    Late that night, she crept over to Marble’s bed, and whispered, “Marble.”


    “Mmmg?”


    “Marble!”


    “Mmfl.  I don’t want to talk to you right now.”


    “Can I have one chance to apologize?”


    Marble sighed and rolled over.  “One.  One chance.”


    “I am sorry I took the easy road over learning fire sorcery.  While this isn’t what you were mad about, I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you to rune my fingers, if not teach me sorcery in and of itself.  If you’ll paint, I’ll use the light to write a letter home renouncing my inheritance and the terms of my agreement with my parents, and in the morning I’ll talk to Mother Superior Honoria about applying for a scholarship next season.  And if you get patronage, I’ll follow you and see if I can’t please your patron or her court.”  Please.  Please let me have gotten it right.


    “You know you’re just doing what I told you, right?  You should have thought of this yourself.”


    “I added the part about you teaching me sorcery.  Surely that indicates I had some understanding?”


    “You want to learn fire sorcery?  From me?  I’m practically a hedge witch for all the talent I have.”


    “Then I want to be a hedge witch with you.  Whatever I do, I want to be with you, Marble.  I am not—was not—completely confident in my apology.  Except the part where I expressed a desire to be with you.  I know that’s the crux, not just for you but for me.  I didn’t—I don’t always think things through.  But you spelled it out.  I was choosing security over love and that is a mistake.  But it’s not a mistake I’m going to make again.  I love you, Marble Bitumen, and if I never see another weight of silver again I will still be happy so long as I lack silver but not your kisses.”


    Marble laughed and kissed Vaterin’s nose.  Yes!  I got it right!  Marble threw her arms around Vaterin and kissed her lips, and then… another student hollered, “It is after moonrise, keep it down!  Savior preserve us from you two!”  Marble and Vaterin both stifled laughter behind their hands, and then rose to do some painting and letter writing by candlelight.