Respect

In which Ellyra sings! And by the way, if you want to pinpoint a reason for why this chapter took so long, BLAME THE STUPID SONG. I swear it took me more time to write that stupid ballad than it did to write the whole rest of the chapter.

 

 

                Meandering back into the tea room supported by Zayric’s arm was strange to Ellyra, but at least she no longer felt like she was about to fall over. It was strange how swiftly these episodes came and passed, and only when she was in one of the two castles. She would have to be sure to tell Fallin about this incident when they returned home. Vaguely, she wondered how everyone was doing back at Cleven’s castle; she hoped that everyone was doing all right. Looking around, Ellyra noticed that some musicians had obviously been sent for in their absence, so the soft music of the lute, the harp and the small mouth-flute created a far different atmosphere now than when she had left. Although perhaps it was not quite as different as she had hoped. As Zayric helped her back into her seat, she became aware that the murmurings of conversation had faded to hushed whispers, and that nearly everyone at the table had his or her eyes focused on Zayric and her. The little Dove squirmed nervously under so many accusing glances and she was not at all consoled when a quick look to the king and the queen told her that even Zayric’s parents looked surprised. Finally, someone broke the tension.

                “Are you quite recovered, Lady Ellyra?” Lady Penelope asked politely, though her prying stare and questioning tone somewhat mitigated any concern that would’ve been in this remark.

                “I think so.” Ellyra returned uncertainly, unable to remember the nosy woman’s name; she was a bit more concerned with the fierce look that Lady Hannah was directing on her – it was plainly a look of jealousy. “Sometimes I feel a bit faint a-and it’s been difficult to get rid of this cold that I had. I believe I’m all right now.”

                “Drink some tea, Ellyra.” Zayric advised, waving over a servant to freshen her cup before returning to his own seat.

                “Thank you.” Ellyra whispered, her blush stinging her cheeks as it made its steady climb. She hoped it wasn’t too noticeable.

                As Ellyra sipped her tea, Tam returned to the tea room, greeting the guests with a nod.

                “Why, the handsome foreigner is back!” Lady Hannah squealed in an excited tone, throwing a quick look at Zayric to see if he reacted to this.

                Surprisingly, he did, though not in the way that Lady Hannah had probably wanted him to. “Earl Balias!” Zayric called, raising his voice so the spindly old man down at the foot of the table could hear him speak. At being addressed, the little man dropped his tea spoon, and looked up at the prince with wondering eyes. Apparently he was so awed that he failed to notice his own gross breach in etiquette, although several of the gossipy ladies around the table, including Lady Penelope and Lady Hannah, immediately began whispering to each other.

                “Yes? Yes your Highness?” He responded in a squeaky, wobbly voice that was just barely loud enough to hear at the other end of the table.

                “Come up here and sit across from me. I would please me to hear some of those stories you have to tell about the old regime.” Zayric said calmly.

The Earl, of course, did not need to be told twice. In another ridiculous gaffe, he leaped from his chair and hurried toward the head of the table, bowing hastily to the prince and the royalty, a brilliant smile illuminating his wrinkled face.

King Clemantias regarded his son in puzzlement and was about to intervene when Zayric turned to the wizened Earl and gestured to Tam’s chair.  “Take Tamarisk’s seat.” He offered. “I’m sure a gentleman like him won’t mind if you switch places with him for a while.”

“Certainly!” Tam complied, standing from his seat and watching as the enthused Earl took his place in it. He laid a gentle hand on Ellyra’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly before relocating to his newly-earned place of shame. Because he had had a great deal of experience with courtly life prior to this incident, Tam knew what a marring black mark it was to be publicly relegated to the foot of the table – the spot farthest away from the King and thus the place of lowest esteem – at an event such as this. He kept his head held high, however; at the very least, he was almost positive that he would never have to attend a formal event in this palace ever again, so the only shame he would receive from the people around him would be on this day and not any other. Besides, courtly manners and traditions such as these were, Tam thought, rather stupid and childish, so at any other time he wouldn’t have minded terribly. This time, however, he knew that Zayric was merely trying to flaunt his power within the court, and despite his easy manners and the friendly conversations in which he was participating with the lords and ladies nearest him, in the back of his mind Tam had already resolved to get vengeance when Zayric returned to Cleven’s castle. At least Zayric had had the decency to provide both men with fresh teacups and plates, although, just at Tam had feared, it was difficult to eat tea sandwiches and drink steaming hot beverages with a bruised jaw.

Meanwhile, at the head of the table, the newly socially promoted Earl was chatting happily with the nobility. Zayric almost instantly grew bored of his tiresome stories, but the triumphant smirk on his face made it evident that his damage had already been done.

“That was a little juvenile of you, don’t you think Zayric?” Ellyra said quietly when she had gotten up the nerve to speak and when she was sure that enough of the surrounding guests were engrossed enough with Earl Balias’s story not to be paying attention closely.

“It was just what he deserved.” Zayric responded confidently, taking a small bite out of his tea sandwich.

“It was not! It was arrogant and malicious! Honestly, Zayric, when are you going to grow up?” This time Ellyra was too angry not to speak her mind, although she knew in the back of her mind that it would be safer to keep her thoughts in her head.

“It’s not like it hurt him.” Zayric answered defensively. “He deserved to be knocked down from his high horse.”

“Oh, really? I thought you’d done that when you hit him!” Ellyra retorted, making sure to keep her voice low. “Resorting to physical violence… Zayric, I knew you were cold-hearted, but this is too much! He’s my friend!” Even in her whispered tone, the intensity in her eyes made her message painfully clear. Unfortunately, Zayric was already used to a certain amount of indignant behavior from Eliza, so Ellyra’s outburst did not come as much of a surprise.

 Zayric drew a breath to respond, but then quickly exhaled; Ellyra could tell that he was barely restraining himself from arguing, once again, that Tam was a fairy and thus he had coming to him any and all harsh treatment that Zayric cared to deliver to him, but because their now more public setting made this defense essentially impossible, Zayric was forced to come up with something else.

“Well it’s too late to do anything about it now.” He responded smoothly after a few more seconds of thought. “The old raisin is here to stay, now. My father actually looks kind of interested in what he’s saying, and that doesn’t happen very often.”

When a swift look over at the King confirmed that this was true, Ellyra had to grudgingly admit to herself that Zayric was right. “That doesn’t make me any less angry at you.” She seethed, turning her head away from Zayric and toward the two ladies Penelope and Hannah, who were talking quietly amongst themselves while daintily sipping their tea and munching their tea cakes. Quite unexpectedly, Lady Hannah looked up and happened to catch Ellyra’s eye.

“Lady Ellyra?” She asked politely. “Is it true that you are the legendary Dove of Calassi?”

Ellyra winced and fought hard to keep the crimson from her cheeks. “I… I don’t know about legendary,” she returned quietly, snapping immediately back into her typical, soft-spoken demeanor, “But I can sing, if that’s what you mean.” Cocking her head to one side, she stared distantly into space for a moment or two. “I haven’t practiced in a very long time, though.” She continued ruefully. “My life has been a bit… different, recently.”

“Oh, but you must sing for us!” Lady Penelope urged, a toothy smile lighting up her face. “It’s only fair to us, you know. We’ve never seen you at such a high-ranking event before and your voice is touted all over Calassi! You simply must indulge us with a song!”

By now the little Dove couldn’t keep the hot blush from climbing up her cheeks once again, for the second time the afternoon. “Oh but I… I’m out of practice. Please understand, Lady Penelope, it’s been ages since I’ve really sung and—”

“We insist!” Lady Hannah interrupted, with a gleeful gleam in her eye. “Surely talent like yours could never sour. The musicians must know something that you know too!”

“But I—” Ellyra began to protest, but Zayric cut her off.

“Lady Ellyra is still recovering from her illness, ladies. It would be unfair to push her onto the stage in this manner.”

Ellyra breathed an inward sigh of relief and, despite her irritation at Zayric, shot him a grateful look, but a few moments later she realized that she acted too soon.

“Unless of course,” Zayric continued, turning his gaze squarely on Ellyra, “she feels up to it. I know I would like to hear a performance from Calassi’s finest singer.”

The Dove’s eyes widened and beneath the table she clenched the folds of her dress in one hand, trying to contain her anger.

 “First you defend me on the grounds of my illness, and then you cast aside your own defense? What is it that you truly want, Prince Zayric?” Ellyra asked, her eyes flashing.

“In all honesty, I would love to hear you sing.” Zayric answered, leaning back a little in his chair for a few seconds until his tutor forced him to sit straight again. “It seems to me that this sickness of yours has not much affected your throat, but you are welcome to correct me if I am wrong and you are as welcome to refuse as any lady.”

“In other words, not at all.” Ellyra shot back through clenched teeth. She had to admit that he was right on one count: her throat no longer felt sore, and now that the mysterious spell of weakness and dizziness that she had felt earlier had past, she was pretty sure that she could sing if she really wanted to.

 “So now I can either refuse the crown prince who has recently been so nice to me and be shunned by the court every time I come here ever again or I can go up there and make an idiot out of myself.” Ellyra thought bitterly.

The first option honestly didn’t seem too terrible, considering her original distaste for the court. After this whole affair with Cleven had ended, provided, of course, that it did not end badly, perhaps she could use this incident as an excuse to get out of having to come to more stuffy functions like this. Lady Lynnette would never bring her stepdaughter to a ball ever again if Ellyra was disgraced enough. On the other hand, being so disgraced would mean that Lady Lynnette would have the perfect opportunity to make Ellyra’s home life even more miserable than it already was, which was not a risk that Ellyra was prepared to take. She was pretty sure that she could sing, but anything the attempted would certainly not be up to her standards, not that anyone really knew her standards except herself. She stared back into Zayric’s expectant eyes as she weighed the pros and cons of each response, trying to tune out the pleas of encouragement coming from Lady Hannah, Lady Penelope and, by now, several other nearby ladies and gentlemen.

“Well?” Zayric asked impatiently after Ellyra had been quiet for a little over a minute. “What is your response, Lady Ellyra?”

Ellyra closed her eyes for a moment more, and when she opened them all of her meekness had temporarily drained away. “I’ll sing.” She responded finally, coaxing several cheers from around the table. Swiftly Ellyra held up her index finger, requesting silence. “If,” she added, “Prince Zayric will promise never to send my friends to the foot of the table ever again.”

This comment was met with a wide variety of responses, from shocked gasps to quiet snickers. Zayric scowled, but then he seemed to consider it. “All right.” He said after a moment of contemplation. “Done.”

“Then, my prince.” Ellyra stood up and pushed lightly away from the table. “You shall have your song.” Crossing the room, she consulted with the musicians for a few moments while Zayric and Ladies Hannah and Penelope hushed the rest of the room for Ellyra’s performance. Tam looked up at her and threw her a questioning glance, but Ellyra’s small smile was enough to reassure him that all was well. Standing in the corner of the room, with the musicians, she squared her shoulders, straightened her back and balanced her head, closing her eyes for a moment to steady herself. Nodding to the harpist, a soft melody was played as an introduction, after which breathed deeply opened her mouth and sang these words in her sweet, clear voice:

 

In the mist of the morn, in the cool of the day

a swift, handsome prince came a-riding.

O’er dell and high mountain he forged on his way

to the place where his love was residing.

 

She lived in a castle so marvelous fair,

a princess with wealth and great power.

Tho’ he only saw in her beauty so rare,

like the face of a blushing bright flower.

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

As the swift prince drew nearer he heard a maid cry,

and he paused for to hear who had spoken.

Then from out of the mist a young lady drew nigh,

she was battered and blinded and broken.

 

“Who travels so swiftly?” The peasant girl said,

her voice sweet, though she was unsightly.

“I’m bound for the castle some miles ahead,

“My love, she waits there to delight me.”

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

“But you will not find her, good traveler fair,”

The maiden went on with great sadness.

“Abandon your quest, for you won’t find her there,

to progress any further is madness.”

 

“Why so?” asked the prince, now full of distress,

“An army attacked our bright city.

“The castle was stormed, and they took the princess;

she has never been found, oh what pity!”

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

The prince tore his hair and he beat at his breast,

“Then my princess is gone and in danger!

I swear by my soul that I never shall rest

‘till I find her!” He cried to the stranger.

 

“Oh do not swear so!” The blind beggar pled,

“She is not the same as you knew her

Forget her, sweet prince, and count her as dead,

naught in the world can renew her.”

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

“You know I’m a prince, but how can that be?”

The prince asked the girl with suspicion;

“How can you know me if you cannot see?”

The girl bowed her head in submission.

 

“I know your voice, for I once held it dear,

but turn around, Prince, do your duty.

I once was your princess, but no more, I fear:
              I know nothing of wealth or of beauty.”

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

He looked at his love and he gazed at her long,

he touched her face softly and stroked her.

“My princess,” said he, “you could not be more wrong;

I love you more than I had ever.”

 

He lifted her onto his marvelous steed

and bore her away to his kingdom.

Her beauty shone still, all the people agreed,

through her smile and laugh she was winsome.

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah

 

In the mist of the morn, in the cool of the day,

a blind princess sang in her garden

the story of how, though knights bore her away,

Her true love had granted her pardon.

 

Some people would whisper that she was not fair,

her body all ragged and sour,

But he only saw in her beauty so rare,

like the face of a blushing bright flower.

 

Ah la la dee di ah le ah,

Sing la la dee di ah le ah!

                There were a few brief seconds of complete stillness as the last note of harp faded before the room broke into thunderous applause. Ellyra curtsied graciously in response and returned to her seat to accept the plethora of congratulations that the other guests rained down upon her. While she was accepting these she glanced coyly over at Zayric, and bid him to close his mouth, which he did hastily. In the little commotion, Ellyra did not notice that Tam’s mouth was open, too.

 

*

 

                Cypress was hungry. That stood to reason, though, he supposed as he left his room. It had been a rather eventful morning, even if he had spent most of it in his room. He was not quite sure why, as he paced down the hall, no ghosts were about, to say nothing of the lack of people. Marina had said something about somebody’s going to some function at the palace, but surely that did not mean that everyone had gone. Trotting down the stairs, he peeped into the great hall, puzzled to find it devoid movement or sound, and entered it casually. He had not gotten far, however, before a ghost burst through the wall, stopping dead (figuratively speaking) when he laid eyes on Cypress.

                “Master Cypress! Praise the heavens I found you!” He rumbled in a melancholy tone. “You must make haste to the library! Eliza and Fallin are worried to tears about your absence.”

                “The library?” Cypress asked, disoriented. He could only remember being there once before, and that seemed like ages ago when he and Tam had first explored the dreary castle.

                “Yes, yes!” The ghost insisted, hurrying him back to the stairs and floating up beside him. “It’s the safest place for you to be; the doors are the thickest and they lock several times.”

                “Safest… safest place for me to be?” Cypress repeated, his head spinning. “Good sir, I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

                “It’s Master Cleven!” The ghost informed him impatiently, his voice still strangely level despite the emotion in it. “He’s gone wild again. He’s still safely locked up in the east tower for now, but he might break his way through quite soon. And what’s worse, Fallin thinks that he’s going to come after you.”

                “Good gracious!” Cypress exclaimed, taking the stairs two at a time now. “What’s happened?”

                “It happened when Lady Ellyra and Tamarisk left to go to high tea.” The ghost replied, following him at Cypress shot down the hall toward the library. “Professor Fallin thinks that it has something to do with Lady Ellyra’s presence in the castle. So far it looks like he’s right.”

                “And Tam is there too?” Cypress questioned between breaths.

                “Indeed.”

                “I need… to tell… him something.” Cypress muttered, obviously more to himself than for the ghost’s benefit. Skidding to a stop before the library door, he rapped sharply and the ghost by his side passed easily through.

                “Cypress has arrived.” The ghost announced.

                “Oh thank goodness.” Eliza breathed, hurrying over to the door to undo the locks and let him in. When he entered, Eliza redid the locks and turned to Cypress. “It was stupid of us not to tell you about the experiment earlier. I’m sorry about that – Fallin and I just got caught up in the… well… threat of the situation and retreated the library. I’m sure if Tam were here he would’ve—”

                “It doesn’t matter.” Cypress said, holding up his hand. “I thank you for your concern but I’m here now.”

                Fallin hurried over to the little cluster, bearing three vials full of Garner’s weed elixir, a dark green juice that seemed to exude potency, even inside its glass chambers. He handed these to the ghost. “You’re sure you’ll be able to get one of these in Cleven’s mouth?” He asked anxiously. “I can always make more.” He glanced over at his makeshift “lab” table and grimaced. “Although I think that soon we’re going to run out of the main ingredient.”

                “There are enough of us present that I’m sure we can get him to submit for the necessary length of time.” The ghost responded, a trickle of confidence present in his melancholy voice. “I shall bring this to my comrades.” With that, the ghost phased through the door and was gone.

                “And now we wait.” Fallin sighed, sitting back down heavily at his desk while Eliza resumed her pacing. “I’m glad you got here, Cypress. We were both kicking ourselves for not thinking about getting you before.”

                “It’s really all right.” Cypress assured them, looking wonderingly over the books. “I’ve been stuck in that cramped room for so long that I’m easy to forget about. No longer, though. I’ve finally been blessed with a bit of health and I’m going to use it.”

                “Not while Cleven’s on the prowl, you’re not.” Fallin warned. “Cleven was out for your blood the other evening and there’s no guarantee that he won’t go after you again. From what Tam’s told me, when the beast in him takes over he begins to blame everyone else for his misfortunes, particularly the fairies and particularly you.”

                “I always thought it was a little strange how forgiving he was.” Eliza muttered. “Normal Cleven never seemed to blame anyone for the mess he was in.”

                “Perhaps even ‘normal’ Cleven isn’t as normal as we think.” Fallin pointed out. “It’s reasonable to assume that all of the harder to control emotions like rage and betrayal are stored in Cleven’s more beastly side, and that could minimize them in his normal personality. He was always a mild boy for as long as I knew him, but occasionally things could get to him just as they can get to anybody.”

                “So then he’s left with a much more rational picture of the whole situation when his more human self is in control?” Cypress queried, listening but still running his fingers over the titles of the bindings of the books.

                “I suppose so.” Fallin remarked thoughtfully. “Why would you say that?”

                “Well,” Cypress began slowly, “if he’s feeding all the negative emotions to his beast side, then he’s free to look at this whole situation – the curse, the castle, the cure, everything – in a much more rational light than anyone else would. He’s got little to no need for vengeance, no drive to settle a score, no dire need to engage my kingdom in a needless war over nothing. If your theory is true, then Cleven’s got a much clearer picture of everything than any of us do, and he’s the one who should have the strongest feelings about it.”

                “I’d say he does still have the strongest feelings about it.” Liza said grimly. “They just only come out when he lets the beast inside him take control. Tam told me that that night Cleven nearly killed him and on top of that he got damn close to killing you, Cypress. The beast is on the war path in a major way, and it’s got no sense of diplomacy or even justice the way regular Cleven does.”

                “That’s true.” Fallin agreed, fiddling with his mortar a little. “And we’re going to have to be on our guard from here on out. If Cleven’s recent habit of walking on all fours is any indication, the beast inside him is getting stronger.”

                “Cleven is walking on all of his feet now?” Cypress asked distantly, squatting down to read the titles at the bottom of the shelf.

                “Yes.” Liza affirmed. “He said that it hurt his back to walk upright.” She glanced over at Fallin. “Isn’t it strange that he started to do that the night after his outburst and the very next day Ellyra was beginning to feel better? Maybe there really is a connection.”

                “There might be.” Fallin acknowledged. “But if there is, I certainly don’t like it. Cleven stays sane at the expense of Ellyra’s health.”  

                “That’s no good.” Eliza sighed, turning on her heel and making yet another trip to the end of that row of shelves. Just before Cypress left her line of sight, however, she stopped mid-pace and turned to him, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Say, Cypress?”

                “Hmm?” The fairy prince glanced over his shoulder at Liza, distraction in his face.

                “Before he left for High Tea, Tam said that you weren’t talking to him.  What’s going on with you two?” Liza asked curiously, abandoning her pacing and leaning against the edge of a bookshelf to listen.

                “Oh… that.” Cypress shifted in discomfort and turned back to the shelf he was examining. “It was nothing really. I was just upset that he had brought illegal aid into our quest. My father gave him some of his magic to use and that breaks so many rules that I’ll never get my title now.”

                “Don’t you think this is a bit of a special circumstance, Cypress?” Liza asked reasonably. “From what Tam’s told me about the current situation in ___, it’s a miracle that your father let you come to Calassi at all. So what if you’ve had a little help on the way? It really helped, Cypress. I promise. You and Tam might’ve been captured days ago if Tam hadn’t told us the truth and used the magic to disguise me.”

                “That’s what Tam said too.” Cypress muttered bitterly, abandoning his inspection for a moment as he rose and turned around to face Liza. “But neither of you really understand the situation. I’ve wanted to be a Keeper of the Right all my life! It’s something to be proud of, something to cherish, something that people – well, fairies anyway – are going to respect. And now that chance is ruined forever. The Council of Keepers is incredibly strict about following the rules. If you break just one you’re not allowed to have the title, and then all your hard work will have been for nothing. By now I’ve broken too many rules to count, and I didn’t even know I was doing it.”

                “Wait, Cypress. Let me get this straight. You want to be a Keeper of the Right because you’re afraid that your subjects won’t respect you?” Liza asked him, in a tone that suggested that Cypress might, in fact, be even crazier than Cleven. “Cypress, you’re a prince for goodness sake! You’re going to be respected automatically!”

                “That’s just it!” Cypress cried, throwing his hands in the air in frustration, his shoulders hunching slightly and his weight shifting from the balls of his feet to the front of them; if he had still had wings, he would’ve been hovering. “People are supposed to respect me already just because I’m a prince. No other reason! By the mere accident of birth I’m supposed to command the respect of thousands of fairies, and, if this stupid political situation ever gets resolved, thousands of humans too. It isn’t just, I tell you!  People shouldn’t be born into respect, they should earn it! That’s what I’ve been trying to do all along with this title, but now it’ll never be mine. Don’t you understand? I don’t even have any real magic. There’s nothing, nothing about me that people should respect, and yet they do. For no other reason than the simple fact that I was born a prince and they were not.” Cypress sighed heavily and turned away from them, moving further down the shelf to continue his examination. “It just isn’t fair.”

                Liza stood in shock for a few seconds before she could respond. “I’ve never heard anyone born into wealth and power so unhappy about it before.” She said softly. “It seems like all the nobles and princes and kings in the world should care…”

                “But they don’t.” Cypress spat bitterly. “I care, but no one seems to understand that. It’s times like these that I’m sure I wasn’t cut out to be a prince.”

                “It seems to me,” Fallin spoke up, “that you were destined to be the best kind of prince. The empathetic kind of royalty who wants the best for his people and cares that their voices are heard, despite the consequences for him personally. For that view alone, Cypress, you deserve the utmost respect.”

                Cypress turned back once again with a hard to read expression on his face. “Really?” He questioned in wonder. “Thank—”

                “Shh!” Liza hissed, cutting off Cypress’s expression of gratitude. “Listen!”

                The three shrunk down a little and strained their ears. Distantly, they could hear the rhythmic sound of padded feet scrabbling up the carpeted stairs.

Author's Note

All right, I really need to know: does having Ellyra sing seem a little too random? I was going for a power-play/control thing on Zayric's part, but singing is also a huge part of Ellyra's character and since she finally has a shot at character development in this situation I wanted to play her strengths and remind everyone that she is, after all, the Dove of Calassi. Is she developing as a character? She does feel a little less flat now, but I'm wondering how much of that is her own trying to be like Eliza.

Also, does the scene in Cleven's castle feel too relaxed or random? It was a little strange writing rather relaxed dialogue in such a tense situation, but that conversation is actually really important and (hopefully) it makes Cypress's character a little clearer. Finally my original main characters are taking the forefront!

Reviews

[Hannah!]

I'm sorry if this review isn't as wonderfully specific as it probably should be--I'm read it before work and I'm reviewing after, so there might be some things that I'm overlooking. So, that being said...

I loved the song. I really did. I know you mentioned that you don't think it's your best work, but I thought it was really good. Possibly very unnecessary, but it was good all the same, and it was nice to see Ellyra sing. Ellyra is finally coming into her own, I think. It's just a start--she's still got a little bit of Eliza's personality hanging over her by necessity, after all--but she is becoming more than the plain little dove lying sick in bed. You did a good job making sure she acted a lot like Eliza, but not EXACTLY like Eliza--there were a couple of things that Ellyra did that I can't imagine Eliza ever doing, and her interaction with Zayric seemed much less easy than Eliza and Zayric's interactions. And it only stands to reason that Ellyra would be a bit like her friend; best friends do tend to take on similar personalities after awhile.

The second scene in this chapter did seem a bit relaxed to me. I'm missing a lot of the anger Cypress showed in the last chapter (or was it two chapters ago? You know the scene I'm talking about), and I can't quite figure out what to do without it. And honestly, while Cypress might not have quite caught the fear that Eliza and Fallin are feeling right now, Eliza and Fallin are hiding that fear way too well to seem realistic. I think the conversation itself is fine--conversation is always a good way to ease your mind, and they could easily be thinking in that vein, but even their actions don't seem to quite match what's going on outside the library.

I'm always a sucker for contrast, but I think that this whole chapter could be way, way cooler if you made the two scenes more different in terms of intensity. I love those huge shifts--they wake me up (or calm me down, depending), and it's nice to be kept guessing.

At any rate, this was really a great chapter. I'm excited to finally be getting to know Ellyra and Cypress!