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1. THE SERPENT'S DEN (part 2)

***

Irson closed the shutters and put down sonic shields to keep the night sounds from entering the hall. Taking an unhurried stroll along the bar, he used his fingers to put out the candles, then lit several new ones, made of grey lumpy wax. The soft candlelight spread over the surface of the bar like melted butter, cloaking the bottles and their internals with a blanket of golden translucence. The far side of the hall fell under a pall of shadow. Irson lowered himself on a stool, leaned against the bar, yawned... and the Serpent's Den succumbed to slumber. Even the captive myriapods, left without an audience, seemed to bite the walls of their bottle-prison with a far subdued fervor. Some had even rolled up into bristly scarlet rings and lay there motionless, having grown weary and fallen asleep.

An unsettling, unfitting analogy popped into Irson's head. One of his patrons had once told him about the creatures hunted in his homeland – the literal translation of their species' name to the common tongue was "subpredators." These were creatures of extraordinary caution who only attacked sleeping prey. They waited until the target's breath became deep and even, the body relaxed and the heart beat slower and slower, stalking ever closer and finally pouncing so as to finish off the victim with one powerful snap of the jaws. It was at that very moment (the pounce, not the snapping) that the hunter, who had been feigning sleep all the while, had to plunge his long dagger into the subpredator.

Such was the silence inside the Serpent's Den as it awaited its vic... visitor. And the visitor didn't take long. A petite silhouette with two triangular ears on the crown manifested in the door frame. The fresh scent of dragonpine filled the hall – Aniallu must have teleported straight from the woods or a park. She always appeared inconspicuously, without any of the vulgar pageantry so beloved by mages: flames, sparks, mist and the like. Giving her eyes time to get used to the gloom, she paused, scratching the door jamb with her nails, then arching her neck in a true cat-like motion, and brushing up against it with her cheek.

Still lingering in a dreamlike state, Irson looked on in awe at this remarkable creature, her bestial nature so strong that she adored the hunt, growled as she consumed raw meat, cleaned herself with her tongue, and hissed at others unabashedly, all the while looking so sublimely beautiful. It was hard to tell where his nocturnal guest might fit in better, more organically: on a thick branch in a grove, stripping feathers off a bird she had just caught, or in some temple wearing radiant garb, descending to her priests kneeling in adoration.

Aniallu an Briaellar approached Irson with a gait so distinct to her Alae race – majestic yet stalking, soaring like a bird while floating like a water lily. So light was the cat's step that her lithe body, draped with black suede, seemed weightless. And yet it felt almost like before taking each step she probed the floor before her delicately with her toes. Admittedly, now that her slender feet were hidden beneath the soft leather of grey boots, this illusion of dancing on thin ice wasn't quite as strong as when Aniallu walked barefoot, as per her usual Alaean habit.

After the likeness of Alasais herself, as well as the rest of her Shadows, Sianae[1] Alu was blue-eyed and black of hair. Her undulating mane, tied in a casual braid, was on the verge of breaking loose from its binding string. The especially wayward locks took full advantage of the oversight, cascading onto her bronze cheeks. Yet, though Irson's guest was a creature of extraordinary physical appeal, true to her Alaean nature, on this night as she drew closer, her allure seemed to dissipate with each step. Just a moment ago he admired her, but now... Now Irson could see the bloodlessness of her face, the shadows lining her eyes, the thin tense line of her lips. Her graceful saunter – gone, replaced by slumping, drawn-in shoulders; her movements – constrained, almost clumsy. The light fell on her tail – peeling, clinging to her leg, as if hiding from something. All the parts added up to an awkward, unattractive sum. Alu made a pitiable sight. Suspiciously pitiable...

With a shake of the head, Irson took a step back. His back pushed against the ankle of his visitor's wooden counterpart; pressing his shoulder-blades against it, the Tanae shut his eyes. When he opened them, the real Aniallu looked nowhere near as miserable.

She appeared oblivious to what her friend had just experienced. Before she could extend a greeting, Alu suddenly spun toward the door, her black velvety ears perking up, apparently startled by some sound. Her luxuriant tail, passing through a special hole in her trousers, trimmed with a pattern of silver thread to match the jacket collar, arched gracefully, expressing its owner's misgivings. Finally Aniallu turned away from the door, walked the remaining several dozen feet to the bar, and perched herself atop a tall stool across from Irson.

"Alu, be a friend, tune down the emotions, you're infecting me," Irson groused. "You've ruined the whole visual for me."

Aniallu drew her head into her shoulders guiltily, folded her hands in front of her face and stared at them intently, releasing and contracting her claws. Irson took a slow, deep breath, waiting for her to finish. The fragrance of pine emanating from Aniallu was tinged with a number of other scents: violet, tangerine, roast fowl, and the invigorating aroma of aged leather that permeated the air in repositories of ancient folios. "She was in Ar-Direllejt[2], in the library, then had lunch, took a walk in the garden and wandered into the woods... but didn't hunt for dessert. Or if she did, she must have eaten it in feline form," reasoned the Tanae.

"Is this better?" asked Aniallu, lowering her hands, her voice charming and soft as velvet.

"Yes," the Tanae wrinkled his brow. "At least I've learned to detect these tricks of yours. You should really see yourself from the side when you're in this self-deprecating state and aren't dampening your emotions."

"I'll pass. It doubt the sight is inspiring," Alu gave a pensive smile, then changed the subject with a question. "What happened here? There are echoes of fear all over the place."

"I should be asking you that. It was your statue that had suddenly decided to scare some harmless plastered mage half to death. I had even forgotten that it can do that!"

"It can, but it should use the trick as a last resort. No wonder my nose was itching. A harmless mage, eh? I beg to differ!" Aniallu whistled her surprise.

"Well, I don't know. I tell you – he looked like a total bozo," shrugged Irson.

"Then there must be another reason it had thought frightening him further was in your best interests. Think!" the Alae arched her brow invitingly.

"Unless... Did you know that the Rector is planning on siccing Catkiller on you?"

"Of course I did. And it's some foolishness, too! Everybody knows about the personal feud between him and Mabrag. Even if there was something to find against us, we could always say it was fabricated."

"Foolishness, indeed... But what's the atmosphere like? You've just come from Cahnerali, yes?"

"Cahnerali the creature, not Cahnerali the kingdom," Aniallu grinned. "She's trying to help as best she can, but who's going to listen to an exiled queen? Her entire school is sitting on metaphorical suitcases. The atmosphere in Cahnerali the kingdom is nasty. They wanted to arrest our ambassaro... And would have if it weren't for Veindor's intervention!

"Oh! Where are our manners! Inshette risse, Irson," Alu gasped, then extended to her friend a greeting in Tanae.

Leaning over the bar, she brushed her cheek against his in the same cat-like manner. Yet again invoking in Irson a familiar chagrin.

Whenever she drew this close, he could smell the hundreds of scents that her clothes had absorbed. Weaving their way into Irson's consciousness, his imagination carefully, painstakingly constructed the background in a painting called "Aniallu's Day." There she is in a chair with a seat made of sea sponge, feasting on the famous muffins of Cahnerali, who had taken a break from work in her magic lab to entertain her dear guest (the sorceress' hand left the faintest scent of dough and various reagents on the sianae's shoulder); there's Alu strolling through the garden, her sleeve catching on an acacia shrub, then trying to sweep the pollen off with a millipede's achene, looking like miniscule hairbrush; there... Except that on this shifting, living canvas, where Aniallu's head, neck and arms should be, there were gaping, neatly cut holes. As all Alae, Alu an Briaellar had no scent of her own, which was why she seemed almost invisible to Irson. Sucking in air with his nostrils extra hard in an involuntary effort to compensate for the lack of smell, the Tanae couldn't help but feel swindled, deprived, like a child who had opened a bright candy wrapper only to find a cold hard pebble inside.

"May your eyes never grow dim, sianae!" he said, deliberately leaving out half her title.

"You already know? How?"

"Yes, well, I have a valuable source, an expert on the body, so to speak... I heard that you got in trouble again, and that afterwards... ahem..." Irson paused, looking for the right word, but failing to arrive at one, concluded with a half-question, "You quit?"

"Aye," nodded Aniallu, "that is exactly what I did. I couldn't take it any longer."

"Are you sure it was the best way? After all, they made you for this very purpose," Irson spoke cautiously.

"Not everything we create lives up to our expectations. I imagine you too have poured more than a few hundred failed potions down the drain."

"Me?" Irson was incensed. "Aniallu! Nobody has 'poured you down the drain.' It was all your doing. Besides, you weren't created by Irson the Tanae, but by a tightknit collective of two wise Nae."

"A fine collective of Alasais the Cat, Mistress of Feelings, and Tialianna the Serpent, Mistress of Pathmaking," Aniallu grumbled. Bending her thumb in the most inconceivable way, she slid her hand into the neck of a pink bottle and was now fruitlessly trying to fish a slippery chunk of peach out of the syrup. "Somehow I'm not at all surprised that their joint project ended up being so controversial."

"But – "

"I'm not arguing," Alu raised her free hand, refusing to be interrupted, "that they hadn't done their part in making order in the Infinite, in their own way. Alasais would help creatures understand and accept the nature of their souls, to figure out what they wanted from life, while Tialianna created Paths for them so that, in following that very nature, there would be fewer clashes, with each creature finding its own unique place in the Infinite, yadda yadda yadda. Each Nae would do her part, without mixing fur with scales, so to speak. Correct?

"Correct."

"Therein lies the problem – they are too different. And so are we, their children. We cannot propagate not because of some biological incompatibility, but because it would be impossible to find a suitable soul for our offspring – a soul that would organically interweave Tanaean and Alaean features, for which neither the Cat's nor the Serpent's spirit would be alien."

Aniallu finally managed to hook the peach with a nail. She closed her eyes, savoring the delectable catch.

"Much of what can't be found in nature can be made artificially," Irson shrugged. "Which was the case with you."

"Irson, I've been observing this Alae-Tanae crossbreeding experiment for hundreds of years now. At point-black range, no less," Aniallu sniffed. "And the longer it goes on, the more convinced I get that is has failed... And ought to be stopped on humanitarian grounds."

"Forgive me, Alu, but you don't seem especially happy now that you have stopped it."

"Of course I don't," Aniallu sighed, letting her carefree mask fall away like fluff off a dandelion. "Our illustrious Naw claim to have accepted my resignation, but in truth they never planned on letting me go."

She gave a mournful chuckle and fell into silence for a while, stroking a pendant hanging off a braided chain. The elongated crystal looked like an elegant vessel filled with a kind of mist, shimmering softly with hues of pink and lilac. That pendant of hers was worth more than the entire Serpent's Den, as well as the land it stood on, its adjoining territories and the two neighboring settlements, Southern and Northern Bridges, combined. Crafted by artisans from the Dream Valley, it granted its owner the ability to peek into the dreams of others.

"Were you already informed about what I did... after quitting?" Aniallu asked upon gathering her strength.

"You mean enrolling at a magic school?" Irson barely managed to hold back a smile: a mighty Shadow of Alasais, now a studious pupil – what a trip!

"Yes. I've decided that if I'm going to start a new life, one that's disconnected from service to Tialianna, a mage diploma certainly wouldn't hurt. For reasons of secrecy, if nothing else. That's why I enrolled at Ar-Direllejt."

"I'm surprised you didn't choose Agadar Academy. You were always fond of their educational style."

"Um..." the barest press of the lips and Aniallu already had an answer. "Let's start with the fact that I don't have nearly the same level of protection there as at Ar-Direllejt. Specifically, when both rectors are your best friends, that comes with certain privileges. Such as squeezing nearly thirty years' worth of studies into three months of exams. Besides, it was quite the experience – being graded by your former students," Alu brightened. "You cram, time your answers..."

"Did you really do all that?" asked Irson in a tone that some tipsy youth might inquire of him whether Tanae truly fornicate with mindless snakes.

"Of course I did. I even conjured up a cheat sheet once. A crappy one, too... Look, Irson, this is exactly why I came here – to start leading normal life. But it never really happened to me."

"What's stopped you?" the Tanae put a sympathetic hand on her wrist.

"Tialianna. She foresaw that even on my own I would still find another 'victim' at Ar-Direllejt. That's why she let me go... with a light heart."

"And did you?"

"Naturally. Cahnerali was about to expel one Dany from Darlaron. I became curious... And yes, Dany the Daorean[3] had almost no aptitude for magic. But did have an atonishing, critical, calculating intellect and a rare resistance to all mental manipulations. It was her family that had pressured her into enrolling at Ar-Direllejt. And not even to make a sorceress out of her, but out of educational considerations. They had hoped that the university's affable atmosphere would make their mistrustful and sarcastic daughter a bit more compassionate, empathetic and... kind, perhaps. Obviously, that didn't happen. Ar-Direllejt repelled Dany – she was alien to the school in spirit, and her own abilities and emotional qualities were unrequited. But I was awed by the sobriety of her mind, which was being sorely unappreciated by others. I still can't figure out why... And I remembered a place where Dany might be treated very differently. I began persuading her to head to Anlimor – to the Temple of Plenty, fraud control department. She resisted at first, probably suspecting some foul trick on my part or an ulterior motive, but I was so possessed with the desire to help that eventually she acquiesced. I arranged a meeting with the dean..." Alu smirked. "After a two-hour discussion in elevated tones, the dean shot out of his office like a scalded cat... and nearly physically fought Cahnerali for the girl. That's pretty much the whole story. Dany embarked on her Path – finally doing something that not only makes her happy but also brings benefit to the Infinite."

"The Infinite cares about finances now?" Irson arched an ironic brow.

"The Infinite cares about every living creature being able to follow their own Path, realize their own potential," Aniallu replied with gravity. "But if you've been robbed blind and your family has nothing to eat, self-expression is the last thing on your mind. Assuming you're not a total sociopath, of course. Many creatures get so distressed they end their lives... Look, I'm not saying some creatures aren't due for a good fleecing to set them straight, but those are the exception. Evidently, my Dany is destined to avert some grandiose heist. Hundreds of creatures will be saved from ruin thanks to her," the Alae concluded, her voice devoid of enthusiasm.

"That doesn't make your plight any easier."

"It does, but not by much. As soon as she got settled, I realized that it happened again. It wasn't I who had felt the desire to help her find herself, but Tialianna..."

"But what's the difference, Alu?!"

"The difference is huge, Irson... I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of a love potion, yes?" asked Aniallu suddenly.

"Of course," the Tanae creased his brow. "You'll hear that and more from the crowd I get here. It's when somebody tries to get you to fall in love with them using magic, right?"

"Right. The target of the spell is suddenly filled with burning fondness for the caster. All flaws are overlooked, eclipsed by a sea of merits, and the target wishes nothing else but to make the caster happy. But if the victim somehow manages to break free of the spell, he or she develops a vehement hatred for their 'beloved.' Suddenly the victim wishes to rip the culprit to pieces, even though yesterday there was only bliss. Now why is that? Because one can never forgive such coercion over one's own soul and emotions. Does that ring a bell?"

"Ugh, Aniallu!"

"'Ugh' is exactly right! Except that I keep experiencing this 'ugh' again and again. My spiritual skin has been implanted with a foreign body – an alien spirit or will. From time to time, whenever Tialianna wills it so, it subjugates me, forcing me to view the world through Tanaean eyes and rush to help this creature or that. At that moment, when I'm fully engaged in planning and executing the rescue of a victim from whatever circumstances prevent them from embarking on their own Path, I feel genuine, unadulterated delight. But then Tialianna's voice fades from my consciousness, and I am once more left with my own, Alaean worldview. That's right! I am not a Tanae priestess, eager to devote her entire life to servitude, playing with omens and destinies. If I were like that, I would likely embrace this lot. But I'm not! I am an egotistic, freedom-loving and – what is it they call us? – narcissistic daughter of Alasais! Can you imagine what it's like for a cat to be coerced into loving a creature utterly alien to her? To say it is abuse or violation is to say nothing at all. The realization that a moment ago you were ready to bend over backwards for some smug, heartless broad who couldn't care less about anyone but herself... it's excruciating! Not for whatever benefit this Dany might eventually bring the Infinite, but for her!"

Tears were running down Aniallu's cheeks. Irson felt under the bar for a handkerchief, reserved for just such a purpose, and offered it to his friend.

"I'm sorry, Alu, but I still don't quite see the distinction. You admit that she needed help, right?"

"Of course. I'm not some numbskull, ignorant of the fact that all of the Infinite's creatures are interconnected, that by helping any creature, no matter how alien or unpleasant we perceive them, find their Path, we transform the world around us, harmonize it, and ultimately improve our own lives as a result. And I have nothing against such endeavors. The difference is, I want to be within my senses and fully aware of what I'm doing and why, not lose my head every single time. It's akin to becoming possessed by some kind of surrogate. I could never really love most of the creatures I help, nor they me. Many wouldn't even bother thanking me afterwards..."

"Aniallu, expecting gratitude in such situations – " Irson began, but the Alae cut him short. "I don't need their stinkin' gratitude! What infuriates me is that I have no choice in the matter. I don't mind helping Dany and others like her. But I don't want to be forced into loving them."

"There must be a reason for this 'love.'"

"Yes, of course. On numerous occasions I was told that certain creatures cannot be helped toward their Path via... traditional methods, whether purely Alaean or Tanaean. For various reasons. That was actually the reason why Etalianna and myself – tal sianae, Alasais' Shadows – were created and made to serve Tialianna.

"So you see – "

"See what? Yes, Irson, I understand the purpose of our existence. But how does that help me?"

"Hold on, let's dissect the matter. What is the principal difference between your approach and ours? I mean, you cannot deny that all you cats, egotistic though you may be, still serve the Infinite by helping creatures to find themselves?"

"I don't deny it."

"You inspire creatures. You empower them to stop shying from the properties of their own souls. How does that story go, about the wanderings of your precious Alasais? 'She had always very keenly sensed disharmony in everything, whether a slanted curtain or somebody's life going badly awry. And she couldn't help but notice that most creatures in the Infinite weren't in harmony with their own souls, living either with shame, self-loathing or -fear. One thought himself too eloquent and attractive to be successful in some undertaking; another deemed her desire to lead a quiet life, bake cookies and raise kids unbecoming when everybody else in her family dealt with wizardry; another yet, in contrast, was ashamed of his magical talent and passion for sorcery, as the local religion proclaimed it unholy.' Want to take over?"

"Sure I can, but what's the p – "

"Take over, and then we'll see," Irson gave a sly grin.

"'Alasais was delighted to help the souls of such creatures, to liberate them from the prison of their doubts, fears of not living up to others' standards or some divine punishment. Alasais wasn't steering them in any particular direction, but allowing them a moment's respite – to pause and really look at themselves, into themselves, and decide what they cared about most: piety, ancestral traditions or something else entirely. She purred of lives these creatures could be living, of places that could become their true home, of all the riches laid out for them by the 'infinite Infinite,' which, everybody knew, 'had a place for every one and every thing.' She whispered of all the different creatures that inhabited him, of all the different causes they dedicated their lives to, of the stark contrast between their worldviews... She insisted that the right to live in congruence with one's soul, one's own attitudes, one's own spirit, in effect, was the sacred right of every creature, and any attempts at depriving others of such a right was a crime before the Infinite,'" Aniallu concluded with flair; her tears had dried, leaving her eyes brimming with fervor.

"Now, isn't that wonderful?" Irson asked gently.

"Wonderful, yes, no doubt about it," Alu wrinkled her brow in apparent pain. "All that is true. However, this lovely excerpt says nothing about Alasais squeezing herself like a lemon time after time just so that another Chosen One would rinse his throat and not cough one extra time!" She was on the verge of screaming now. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm a bitter old cat... But I am what I am."

"You were talking about Alasais."

"Right. Alasais didn't coerce her nature. She didn't try and force herself to love those who happened to be near. She essentially told others that, sure, many creatures don't like you, I may not like you either, but I know for certain that there are those in the Infinite that would. And no matter what my attitude toward you may be, it should not in any way disempower you from being yourself."

"And isn't that what we, the Tanae, do as well?"

"No. It may appear to be very similar, but our motives and... methods are somewhat different. For you it is the harmony of the Infinite that's paramount. In your love for him (I'm talking about Tanae priests), you renounce yourself completely and manage to make it a source of pleasure, which, alas, we Alae can never sense as such. I'm not being sardonic, Irson. Not one bit. You're able to see a part of your precious Infinite in every creature, and all creatures in your eyes are therefore equally worthy of love and aid. And you love them deeply and sincerely, helping them overcome their hardships with joy and delight."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all. But we Alae aren't like that. Our souls are of a different nature. We are creatures of serious bias. We get along with everybody, that is true, but it doesn't mean we love them. Even our soul healers[4], which seem so much like us from the outside, never bother to put on the 'I love all my customers' act. They probably won't judge you, nor are they likely refuse you help, no matter who you are. But they are healers. For most of us, helping those we aren't partial to is akin to self-mutilation. We will go through hell and high water for our spiritual kin, but not for alien creatures. And I am clearly in the majority on this front."

"Alu, it seems to me you're slandering yourself and your race. Even your presence has a beneficent influence on others..."

"Precisely! Our presence alone is sufficient. Our actions are never purposeful. We don't run after anybody with a magic mirror, imploring them to look their soul in the eye. Our own backs have mirrors glued to them, and anybody in whom the desire to behold their true self has ripened can walk over and gawk to their heart's content. While we continue living our lives. Oh yes! Nobody can compare with us when it comes to living. And therein lies our most valuable asset! Though we don't really care either way, we free creatures from fears of the world and their own souls' properties, we infect those around us with our insatiable lust for life, with our will to live, to creature, to revel, with no regard for hardships or anything else, aside from our own consciences, that might stand in our way."

"But those to whom Alasais and Tiana send you, that is not enough."

"That's right. To move from such a dead point, they need a hybrid. A Tanaelaean. Or Alaetean, pick your poison. Someone to clearly see their Path and love them with the complete Tanaean abnegation, all the while seeing oneself  in them, in all the various manifestations of their nature... And not just some faceless particle of the Infinite, worthy of love by mere virtue of its existence."

"I see that it is indeed complicated. But you are special. You are Tal Sianae Aniallu. You were made for this, and you can handle it. You just need to begin to see the value in what you do."

"I see it..." muttered Alu.

"The only way in which our Nae erred in making you, as I see it, was giving you a pureblooded Alaean body. I believe it is the reason you view yourself and everything that happens to you from an Alaean vantage point, and are therefore often disappointed. You've also surrounded yourself with only the Alae, and your environment keeps adding fuel to the fire, negating the fact that the nature of your soul is Tanaelaean, and that such souls have a right to exist in principle. All this is preventing you from recognizing and accepting the wise, noble Serpent as not only part of your spirit, but also your soul."

"You speak so confidently... Do you see that it as you say?"

"No. You know that these things aren't my forte. But there is a living example of what I speak – your sister Etalianna, also a tal sianae, and more than satisfied with her lot. Were the Serpent's spirit so alien to her soul, she wouldn't make such a prosperous sight, am I right?"

"I don't know, Irson. I feel that our souls are very different, even if that shouldn't be the case. The voice of Tialianna that speaks in her mind is never silent. And her 'infatuation' with her wards stems from a different, more Tanaean nature. Etalianna is more Tanae than Alae; that is why the Serpent's spirit had easily taken root in her soul. It's like the Alaean part of her is only there to help her perform her job better: inspire creatures, and so on. I'm different. In my essence, I am a cat. And for me, the Serpent's spirit is hardly constructive. I'm sorry, Irson, but I would be glad to be rid of it."

"Rejecting a part of yourself isn't the way, Alu," insisted Irson. "So what if Tialianna won't allow you to remain a 'pureblooded Alae' while you're on a mission? Even if your suffering is part of your burden, what's stopping you from making up for it in the gaps between missions? You need to learn to quickly shed your snakeskin and be a cat, is all."

"I would love to, Irs, but the two don't want to coexist peacefully. The Serpent's spirit is strangling my Cat's spirit..."

"And I think that if others weren't getting you wound up all the time, everything would be just fine. You would be able to assess the situation calmly, soberly, and find a... counterbalance of sorts – something in your life that your Alaean half would find so captivating, it wouldn't allow your Tanaean part from dominating, disrupting the balance in your soul."

"That was exactly why I came to Ar-Direllejt... But even there I wasn't able to hide from elves[5] and their issues. Anyway, Irson," with a smack of her velvet gloves on the countertop, Alu hopped off her stool, "I've got to run. Thanks for the kind words."

She removed the chain with the priceless pendant from her neck and, with a fleeting smile, tossed it into Irson's glass. Lost for words, the Tanae looked on as the long chain sunk lazily toward the bottom of the glass, through the viscous liquid. When he finally raised his eyes, Aniallu had already made her way soundlessly to the door. It was all he could do to shout after her: "Why?"

"Because you're the only one who understands that I too can feel bad. That I am a cat who knows what it is to cry. I hope you'll make good use of it," said Aniallu, and disappeared out the door.

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[1] Sianae – a Shadow of Alasais and one of her closest aides, tasked with carrying out the Nae's special missions. All the Shadows were personally created by their mistress and bear a remarkable likeness to her.

[2] Ar-Direllejt – one of Enhiarg's foremost magic academies. Especially notable for producing not only mages, but also creature rights specialists, ranging from journalists to attorneys. Student mages are further incentivized to attend seminars on protecting the rights and freedoms of sentient creatures, the environment from magical contamination, and animals from extermination. Ar-Direllejt is located in the Cahnerali Kingdom, and has been headed by two rectors from its inception, both female: Direlleya il Lejtan and Cahnerali an Fejm.

[3] Daoreans – "children of Darkness," residents of Darlaron. The vast majority of Daoreans are compassionate and exceptionally generous, but suffer from excessive pride (manifesting in a completely inability to accept help) and are prone to melancholy. Their patron is Darion, the Enhiargean god of Darkness. Not having a Nae of their own, the Daoreans are under perpetual threat of annihilation from Elaan.

[4] Soul Healers – the Enhiargean analogue of psychologists; their training includes the ability to detect various foreign magical (telepathic) manipulations exerted on the customer's mind, and to remove them.

[5] Here I feel compelled to say a few words about the Enhiargeans' foul habit of naming creatures of various, something extremely different races, by the one relatively similar external feature they may share. Thus, they may apply the term "lizard" equally to a karg, a resident of Lar'aert'aemori, or some bipedal pseudodragon, as long as they all have scales. The term "human" encompasses all humanoids, whereas "elves"... Well, also humanoids, but those with a lighter, elongated backbone. One can't help but wonder if he who had first applied the label of "elf" to an Elaan, a Daorean and a Nalarite (light, dark and water, respectively) had ever seen all these creatures together? I would bet against it, 'cause he'd probably bite his rotten tongue otherwise!

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Illustration by dianadallafina.

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