Nights of Noctis (The Resonance Saga #1)
Chapter 1
one
Ivy
The Morribee was a quaint drinking establishment, but it managed to attract the most tedious of Ternewell’s residents, as far as Ivy Winterstone was concerned.
She paused outside the bar and peered in through the window, looking for the acquaintances she was expected to celebrate with.
She scanned the assortment of patrons. Despite their varying levels of inebriation, not one of them had loosened up enough to appear remotely interesting.
Ivy adjusted her red, form-fitting dress.
The subtle ruching hugged her curves to mid-thigh, and the sweetheart neckline accentuated the delicate lines of her decolletage.
It was a daring choice of outfit for a bar like this, and she knew her mother would hate it.
Ivy loved this dress. With a smirk, she pushed through the glass double doors.
“Wow, girl, you look like a snack!” A voice cut through the din, and Ivy’s attention snapped to a tall and slender woman with tight red curls framing her face. She dragged a smile onto her lips when she spotted her associate, Annabel.
“You look pretty fine yourself.” Embracing Annabel, Ivy admired her black, strappy dress. “Have the banalities begun?”
Raising her voice above the bar chatter, Annabel huffed her reply, “Wedding talk is in full swing. It’s been dress fitting mishaps and guest seating dilemmas for the last twenty minutes. That’s also how late you are.” Annabel’s tone was playful, but it was tinged with disapproval.
“If that’s what I have to look forward to, you’re lucky I’m here at all.” Ivy scanned her surroundings for the rest of the group.
“Ouch. Let’s get something to dull those sharp edges of yours.
” Annabel’s hand clasped Ivy’s, and she dragged her to the bar.
Annabel ordered two Sherry Rumbles with a playful wink at the bartender.
He was an average-looking man with sandy blonde hair.
He blinked awkwardly at Annabel as though he didn’t know how to respond, before hurrying off to mix the cocktails.
Drink in hand, Ivy allowed herself to be led to the back of the bar where a group of women were gathered around a table, engaged in quiet conversation. Several sets of eyes flicked in her direction and Ivy braced herself for the onslaught.
“Ivy! So glad you’re here!” Hannah intoned as she strutted over. She snaked her arms around Ivy’s middle, making a display of giving her a hug and kissing both of her cheeks before withdrawing.
“How could I miss the celebration of such a grandiose event?” The obvious sarcasm in Ivy’s reply was lost on Hannah, who dragged her towards the table.
Hannah was four weeks away from marrying Reginald, a humdrum banker who’d spent his life within the sheltered confines of Ternewell.
Their lives were anything but scintillating—they were a perfect match.
Ivy’s friendship with Hannah was on her mother’s insistence, not by choice.
They shared no common interests. Ivy’s mother wanted her to be ‘more like Hannah’, but she refused, for such an unremarkable life would be the death of her.
Ivy felt she was meant for more than what Ternewell had to offer.
More than that, she felt like something was missing from her life that couldn’t be found in this city.
Also at the table was Shirley, a vapid shop attendant at a department store in the Shopping District.
Her sole purpose in life was to get under Ivy’s skin.
Others sat on the periphery of the social circle, spread out around the table with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.
Annabel was also part of the clique, but since she was the least like the others, Ivy could tolerate her. The rest could drop dead.
Chatter about the upcoming nuptials was the highlight of Hannah’s Hen’s party, such was the appetite for entertainment on this side of Naum.
Ivy longed to break free of the clique and head into Oaris, where the lively atmosphere and colourful tents that made up the Village of Magic revitalised her soul.
Oaris was considered a den of undesirable activity to these women, but to Ivy, it was a haven.
Ivy was so occupied in wondering what might be happening in Oaris tonight, that she completely missed what Shirley was saying. Tucking a strand of her long black hair behind her ear, she unapologetically asked Shirley to repeat herself.
“I said, are you seeing anyone at the moment?” Shirley’s question only served to make Ivy more desperate to escape.
“Not since Caleb. This city has an endless supply of men with absolutely no desire to be interesting.” Ivy shifted in her seat, uninterested in discussing her love life.
Ivy’s dates were regularly set up by her mother in a desperate bid to get her to live a ‘regular life’.
Her recent string of dates had been dull at best, and unbearable at worst.
“Such a shame. He was so handsome!” Shirley’s blonde, blunt-cut bob swayed as she turned to look at the others at the table. She was met with a wave of nodding heads.
“The real shame was how lousy he was in the bedroom.” Ivy threw out the provocative statement in the hope that it would shut the conversation down.
“That explains the maneater dress, then.” Shirley’s smile turned predatory, and her eyes flicked up and down Ivy’s form.
“Can you really afford to be so picky at your age, Ivy? You’re…
what? Twenty-eight, now?” Ivy gritted her teeth, but Shirley continued her barrage, heedless of Ivy’s rising irritation.
“Hannah mentioned that you switched jobs again. Can’t seem to keep still, can you?”
“Why should I stay at a job that only serves to lower my intelligence?” Ivy snarled into her Sherry Rumble before draining the dregs. Shirley ignored the question and continued her probing.
“Gosh, you’re so negative, Ivy. No wonder you can’t keep a man.” Shirley’s words made Ivy’s hand twitch with the desire to slap her.
Ivy stole a glance over at Hannah, who was staring at her with a piteous expression. Ivy was forced to tolerate these pretentious women, with their questions and judgement, and it only eroded her patience further.
An unwelcome rush of discontent flooded Ivy’s mind.
For the eleven years she’d lived in Ternewell, she’d been plagued by a feeling of incongruity.
She differed from the people in the city, and she’d felt forced to repress her true personality to fit in.
She felt trapped in a life she hadn’t asked for, trapped by a childhood mistake she dare not share with the people she was forced to associate with.
Her guilt kept her pliant, and perpetually unhappy.
A bitter laugh bubbled up Ivy’s throat, and it passed her lips along with a scathing reply before she could think better of it.
“The reason I’m so negative is because nothing good ever happens in this city. It’s just one boring day after another.” She could feel her face heating as she struggled to rein in her emotions.
“Ivy, you’re looking at it all wrong,” Hannah interjected, placing a hand on Ivy’s wrist. “Life is a series of choices that you make. If you’re not happy with where your life is going, maybe you need to start making different choices.
” Hannah’s words were just the stoking Ivy’s flames needed.
She tore her wrist out of Hannah’s grip.
“You’re absolutely right, Hannah. I’m going to make the choice of my next drink,” Ivy snapped, pushing her chair out from the table to storm off towards the bar.
Ivy ordered another Sherry Rumble. The spirit-based cocktail tasted salty-sweet, but it did little to take the edge off Ivy’s souring mood. Movement caught her eye, and she watched Annabel approach her with a look of sympathy.
“Don’t they drive you insane, Bel?”
Annabel gave a slight tilt of her head, unwilling to voice her true feelings.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ivy spoke over the rim of her glass before taking another sip.
“And go where?”
“Oaris?”
Ivy had convinced Annabel to enter the carefree paradise on a couple of occasions.
A worried expression overcame Annabel’s features, and she turned to order another drink.
Ivy let out a frustrated sigh and stared at Annabel intently.
When the bartender pushed Annabel’s drink towards her, she spoke softly without making eye contact with Ivy.
“Okay, but let’s just give it a bit longer. Let them think we’re all parting ways.”
It was sound advice—Hannah would be sure to report back to Ivy’s mother if she saw them headed for the Village of Magic.
It was in Ivy’s best interests to slip the leash if she wanted to avoid an argument.
Ivy’s lips cracked into a grin, and she downed the rest of her drink in a single mouthful.
She ordered another drink and snatched it up as it was slid across the bar.
Refilled and refuelled, the pair returned to the party.
The night continued much in the same way, with inane conversation.
Ivy and Annabel contributed little and opted instead to work their way through the cocktail menu.
Like most things in Ternewell, it wasn’t very imaginative or extensive—standard cocktails made with simple ingredients, and never containing enough alcohol to let one lose the desperate hold of their precious sensibilities.
They were almost all the way through the menu when the celebration finally came to an end.
Outside, the group exchanged a round of perfunctory hugs as they bid each other farewell.
Ivy and Annabel made a pantomime of going their separate ways, only to join up around the block.
The Morribee was situated in the Entertainment District near Ternewell’s outer edge—a thirty-minute walk into Oaris.
Movement in the sky caught Ivy’s attention—a single black raven passed overhead, as though it were following them. Although unusual, it didn’t seem cause for alarm, so Ivy pressed on with her journey.