Of Immortal Make

The Tower: Part 1

219 post finem

The knock on her door pulled her out of yet another dreamless sleep. Nadiya lifted her head from the pillow, the morning sun peeking through the curtain, ever so gently warming where it landed on her outstretched arm.

For the past few weeks, she found her mind slipping into a muffled darkness whenever she slept, untouched by dreams and undisturbed by bumps in the night. She was also sleeping in later by the day, something Eloise insisted was the first sign of her rapidly approaching teenage years.

"It's the same for all us girls at your age," she had explained while fixing a very groggy Nadiya an early afternoon breakfast. "You start to look different, feel different, pay attention to the moon's cycles, and absolutely cannot be bothered to drag yourself out of bed for anything less than a chimaera attack... or a mighty good meal."

The second knock came louder. "One sec," she called out, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up. She tossed her quilt aside and stood, stretching her long limbs and feeling the small, satisfying pops in her back. She adjusted her crumpled night-shift, which had become annoyingly and uncomfortably too small, and opened the door.

She expected to be greeted by Eloise, cheeks puffed and apron stained, but instead her father-whom she had officially surpassed in height-looked up at her. "Good morning, turtledove," he beamed, smiling his crooked smile. "Care to join me for a late breakfast? Or an early lunch? Or a just-in-time brunch?"

A warmth rose in Nadiya's cheeks. "Yes! I'll be right down."

She closed the door and rummaged through her wardrobe. With her twelfth year come and nearly gone, she had sprouted in height, which kept the tailors of the Artisan District well-employed and the girl relying on hand-me-downs from her mother to keep her wardrobe stocked. She found and slipped into her favorite dress, a flowy cotton piece, knee-length, in a soft yellow. This past winter had been brutally cold, but spring had so far brought fair weather and a feeling of early summer. She quickly ran a comb through her hair, feeling the dark, loose waves bounce back into place, and declared herself presentable enough.

Her father was seated at the table, its spotted wooden surface scarred from generations of family meals. Eloise had laid out eggs and bacon with warm biscuits and soft butter. A teapot started whistling in the hearth as Nadiya entered the room. She made her way over and carefully poured two cups before settling into the seat across from her father, handing him one.

They ate in amiable silence, eventually interrupted by Eloise appearing from the garden with a basket of colorful chicken eggs nestled in her arm. "Well, now isn't this nice!" she exclaimed, placing the basket on the counter and unloading its contents. "I can't seem to recall the last time I've seen you here past dawn, Gavin. And you," she gestured in exaggerated shock towards Nadiya. "Are you aware it's not even noon yet?"

Nadiya feigned surprise. "Must be a new moon, Elly. The 'cats are playing tricks on ya."

Eloise let out a throaty laugh and began rummaging through the pocket of her apron. "Before I forget, your little friend-well, I suppose he's not little anymore, bless him, his father would be so proud. Handsome, too, just like he was, am I right Gavin?" Her father nodded, smiling into his cup, and she handed Nadiya a folded parchment. "He stopped by this morning and asked me to pass this along to you. Must be important to have sealed it," she added, eyebrows raised.

Nadiya picked at the corner of the ivory wax with her thumbnail. "Nah, Theo's just dramatic. And I bet he knew this would get a rise outta you," she responded, and Eloise laughed again.

"He gets that from his father, too," Gavin chimed in. "Though I can't deny Grace has just as much flair for theatrics. It's why she gets along so well with your mother."