Dream Walking
Divination isn’t an exact school of magic. The silver is a fickle thing, but having a strong connection with who you are trying to reach or having a divining trinket seems to give a higher chance of success.
Advanced Casting Principles: Divination by Aurelia Laskarsis
IN THE DAYS AFTER THE strange surge of power from the main tower of the Crux, I gather statements from witnesses.
From beyond the main tower, it looked as if the Crux had suddenly activated, like it did when Arlon raised the shields after the attack on the square.
It had only lasted a moment, but it had startled Cancassi out of their sleep, had surprised the Royal Guard on duty so badly that he thought we were under siege.
Things have calmed in the aftermath, and even though the focus Arlon left for me has stopped flashing, unease still lingers in the back of my mind.
I still can’t figure out what the spell does.
I’m not sure if it reacted to the flash of energy from the Crux or was somehow the cause of it, but Bridgette seems just as baffled by the spell as I am.
“Gods, that’s fucking strong,” she says as she drops the marble onto the desk. It rolls across the surface before I snatch it up, raising an eyebrow at her. She shakes her head and says, “Listen, I’m good at reading spells, but I don’t know what that is. Arlon’s energy is all over it, though.”
I commit to asking him about it the next time we get an update. In the meantime, I keep the mystery spell around my neck, even as I push the thought of it aside for now. Talking to Olbric shone a light on something I’ve been avoiding for far too long.
I find Marguerite in her room on the second floor of the divination tower. There’s no answer when I first knock, but on the second try, the door swings open. Margeurite’s eyes are tired, her hair mussed as if I’ve just woken her.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Do you have time to talk?”
Margeurite pushes the door open wider before she retreats back into her room. “I have nothing but time.”
I follow her in, closing the door behind me. Inside, her room is in disarray. Clothes litter her floor, her bed a haphazard pile of blankets as if she has been tossing and turning. Notes are scattered across the top of her desk, half-written missives, but as I spot my name on one, my pulse freezes.
Margeurite takes a seat on the edge of her bed before she sees where I’m looking. “This saves me the trouble of finishing my letter.” She takes a breath, steeling herself before her glassy eyes meet mine. “I want to leave the Crux.”
The words feel like plunging into cold water, shocking me to my core. This wasn’t the conversation I expected to be broaching.
“Mags...” I say, stunned. “You mean for a trip, or...”
She crosses her arms over her chest, eyes avoidant. “I mean for good.”
A million thoughts rush through my head. Guilt, concern, questions. So many questions. I settle on, “Can I ask why?”
Her laugh is devoid of humor. “I can’t just sit here and wait for my heart to be broken again.”
“Mags...” I want to say something, anything that could be a comfort, but all we have are hopeful uncertainties. “Allis will come back.”
The silver bangle cuffing her horn tinkles gently as she shakes her head. “I want to believe that.”
I sit next to her on the bed, gently taking her hands in mine. She’s shaking like a leaf, and I hate seeing her so distraught. Hate knowing that I overlooked how badly she was hurting.
“Then stay until we know for certain,” I say gently. “The talks will end. Allis will come home.”
Margeurite’s eyes spill over, and my heart breaks for her. “I-I haven’t been able to divine to her at all. With Dom gone, and you so busy, I just... feel so lost.”
Olbric’s words haunt me all over again.
You were busy.
Hearing them from Margeurite forces me to confront it. Margeurite, Allisande, and I spent every day together for months during our trip out east. Yet in the time since, I’ve barely spoken to them. It’s a painful realization to know I’ve been too occupied to be a good friend recently.
“It just feels as if I’ve already lost her a second time,” Margeurite says.
“She’s not lost,” I say, my heart aching. “But I understand that this wait is agony. We’re all living with the fear and uncertainty of the talks, but you are feeling it more than any of us.”
Margeurite wipes the tears from her cheeks like she’s angry at them. “Allis had no hope when she left. She was certain that this trip was a death sentence.”
“King Thermilious has refused that demand,” I say and Margeurite’s head shoots up. I offer a small smile. “I received a sending from Arlon a few days ago.”
“What else did he say?”
“Luther Barclay has given a long list of demands that includes Allisande’s life, but King Thermilious has refused. Concessions are going to be made, but I don’t think Allis’ safety is likely to be one of them.”
Margeurite doesn’t seem comforted, and while I don’t want to speak too boldly, I want to put her fears about her lover at ease.
“Thermilious is already viewed as a weak king, Mags. He’s young, inexperienced, and he has no wife, no heir. He won’t allow himself to be denigrated even more by forfeiting his cousin’s life to Immenbach.”
Margeurite is quiet as she digests that information. “Skies, I wish I could talk to her.”
“Do you have a divining trinket?” I ask.
Margeurite reaches under her shirt, pulling out a small golden locket in the shape of a star. She flicks it open, revealing a lock of fiery red hair.
“Then let me put you in the silver,” I say. “Let’s see if we can get a dream walking to her.”
Margeurite closes her hand around the trinket. Her voice is filled with a quiet sort of hope as she asks, “Are you sure you have the time?”
“I’ll make the time,” I say. “I should never be too busy to check in with my friends - I’m sorry that I have been recently.” I sigh and take her hand, squeezing gently. “I should have come to talk to you weeks ago.”
Margeurite gets to her feet, pulling me up with her. Her arms surround me in a gentle embrace as she says, “Make it up to me in the silver.”
As we part, I can’t help but notice the tears clinging to her eyelashes. She truly is beautiful when she cries. Maybe I can earn a happier kind of tear from her.
“Let’s go.”
It’s a short trip to her divining room, and as we enter, I realize how much I’ve missed this space.
When we were searching for Isa, we spent so much time in here.
Between Margeurite, Allis, and I, we made it comfortable, dragging in a couple chaises, a few soft blankets, and glow globes.
Coming back now after such a long break feels nice.
“How long do you want to go?” I ask.
Margeurite sheds her gown, the fabric sliding down her smooth skin as she glances over a bare shoulder at me. “Long enough to get a dream walking.”
I step towards her, one hand trailing over her waist. I gently tug her against me, enjoying the way her breath hitches.
“Then I’ll make it happen. I’ll check in every hour until you’re ready.” I walk her back between the pillars as I darken my tone. “And then I’m going to go a quarter hour longer just to be damn sure.”
Margeurite shivers as she nods her eager agreement.
I grin as I place a hand against the pillar, coaxing the silver to wash over her feet.
It covers her in a slow wave, but I pause as I reach her neck.
I kiss her gently, teasing at the crease of her lips until she parts them for me.
It’s a slow, gentle thing, moving without an ounce of haste.
For a second, I imagine what the Crux would be like if she really did leave. No late-night talks discussing what we’d seen in the silver, no stargazing with her and Allisande, no moonlit card readings. None of this.
I stroke down her waist, feeling the trembling warmth of her skin under my palms. I don’t want to lose this. Lose her.
I’m going to make up for every second that I’ve neglected her.
Without breaking the kiss, I reach for the pillar again. The silver slides between our lips, and Mags makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan as it encases her.
When I pull away, I see the shape my lips left against hers.
I kiss down her neck, circling behind her before I move lower.
Since we don’t have a time constraint, I build her up slowly, teasing with lips and ghosting fingers.
I finger comb her hair, smoothing it into loose knots that I tie around her horns.
I trace the base of each one, relishing in her quiet whimpers before I move further down.
My tongue maps out the hollow of her throat, the swell of each breast. In the time we’ve been casting together, I’ve learned plenty about what she likes, but I feel like there is always more to discover.
I move with that goal in mind, earning a squeak of surprise as I gently nip the skin over Mag’s stomach.
When I finally check my pocket watch, I’m surprised to see that an hour has already passed.
I pull the silver from her mouth, and she draws in a shuddering breath. She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s pulling herself back from very far away. Then, finally, “Keep going.”
Before she can close her mouth, I fill it with the silver again and store my watch back in my pocket. Time has ceased to matter. Here, there’s no looming deadlines, no uncertainties. It’s bliss to let go of it all and narrow my focus to the one thing I have full control over.
Margeurite is weightless as I adjust her position, spreading her legs wide before I bend her at the waist. When we first started casting, I remember being shocked at the extent of ovisari flexibility.
I don’t dare put her into any of the punishing poses Allisande enjoys moving her through, but her quiet moan tells me she enjoys the gentle stretch.
I guide her arms out in front of her before leaving them extended. She looks like a doll that’s been posed and forgotten. With the silver coating her porcelain skin, her lips still parted from our kiss, she looks unreal, and I can’t help but slide my fingers between her wide-spread legs.
A moan gusts out of her as I trace the shape of her. I coat my fingers with oil to ease my way, fingers squeezing gently on either side of her clit as I toy with her.
The slow build of her pleasure is easy to hear. Her whimpers get more frequent, more desperate. I play her like a harp, though I don’t think one ever sounded quite as sweet as her breathless sounds of pleasure.
The silver starts to dance, but I pull my hands away. Margeurite moans prettily before she slumps, sinking back into the silver’s embrace. It sends chills of arousal through me, but I push that need aside.
This is about Mags, and the slow, torturous worship is all that she deserves.
The silver shines twice more before I check my watch. We’re approaching the hour, but I enjoy another minute before I pull the silver from Margeurite’s mouth. I already know what she’s going to say.
“Galiva, please,” Margeurite gasps, and I can’t help but grin. Her voice quivers, her need laid bare. But we’re not done yet. We still have fifteen minutes before we’re through.
The silver fills her mouth again, muffling her moan.
I leave her for only a moment to shed my own clothes.
A leather harness hugs my hips and thighs, and I choose the phallus I think Margeurite will like best. I put a hand on her hip as I slide a small focus under the harness to rest against my clit.
It comes to life, buzzing like a benevolent hive as I tease the tip of the cock down Margeurite’s slit.
I lay down underneath her, guiding her into a position over me. It leaves her cunt hovering just over the tip of my cock, and I roll my hips up to stroke her. She moans, her trapped body quivering in the silver’s grip.
I toy with her, easing the tip in with a shallow thrust. This view lets me see every inch as she opens around me, and I can’t help but shiver in pleasure.
She whimpers, feeling the promise of it as she vainly tries to push further down. Under the silver, her skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, her chest heaving as she trembles on the edge of orgasm. I check the time again and see that my fifteen minutes are almost up.
Only then do I pull her onto my cock. She’s weightless in the silver, and I swear as I roll up to meet her, the pressure of her body pressing the buzzer firmly against my clit. I fuck her slowly, grinding into her with every drag and pull.
The silver overhead dances with color, and it’s the only warning I get before Margeurite screams around the gag of silver. Her orgasm crashes through her, and I work her through it, thrusting slow and deep to prolong her pleasure.
The colors shift for ages before the silver finally settles back into its normal, inert shine.
I wait a breath, letting Margeurite settle back into her body.
Though I can’t be sure yet, I think we were successful in reaching Allis.
I let myself enjoy the buzzing of the focus a second longer before I remove it.
I don’t know if I came or not. It doesn’t really matter. Margeurite did, and in the aftermath of the spell, I feel like I’ve had a different sort of release.
I feel more clearheaded. Placid waters after a storm.
Slowly, I peel the silver off of her. She’s still enveloping my cock, and the silver leaves her straddling my waist. She sinks down with a moan, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her head against my chest.
She looks up at me, and I smile at the blissed-out expression she wears, her eyes heavily lidded.
“I made it through to her. Thank you, Galiva,” she says, a hint of a moan still coloring her voice.
Her thanks warms me, and if nothing else, that helps me feel like I’ve done something right tonight. “Stay, Mags. Please.”
I’m not sure what she and Allis talked about in the silver, but she nods, her arms tightening around me. “I’ll stay. At least until the talks are over. Then... then we’ll see.”
I press a kiss to her hair. It’s the best I can ask for. “In the meantime, what can I do to make the wait bearable?”
Margeurite rests her cheek against my chest, her horn curled under my chin. “Stay with me a little longer?”
I tighten my arms around her. It’s an easy request to grant.