Chapter IV.XLIV (4.44) - Drama Practice
“No, Kizu, you need to project from your diaphragm. Take in big bellyful breaths and use that to send your voice out.” Faible stood perched on a tall stool, lecturing Kizu.
“I could just learn how to use an illusion to spread my voice instead,” Kizu suggested, lowering the script in his hand.
“No, no. Not every problem needs to be solved with spells. Breathe in with me.” Faible took a deep breath and Kizu followed his example. “Now when you release the breath, put your vocal cords to use! Get them vibrating!”
“My companions’ deaths will not be the end of me,” Kizu said dramatically. “I prevail despite all obstacles fate sends to block my path. Homeward bound I go. I am the ronin!”
Faible nodded slowly. “Better. Basil, you’re up next.”
The shapeshifter stepped out from the side. He wore a familiar form. Recently, more and more he defaulted to the skin he’d used back while on spring break in Hon.
“Oh? Did I hear you right?” Basil said, his voice slimy with a long drawl. “A ronin? No clan then? No one to protect? No one to be protected by?”
Kizu drew the wooden sword. “An opportunist from Tross. What brings you to these far off lands? You wish to meet my blade?”
“Opportunist? Oh, you wound me.” Basil set a hand over his heart. “And you answered none of my questions, why should I humor yours?”
The role really was perfect for Basil. Kizu was pretty sure he’d heard his friend say those exact words in the past.
“I am, indeed, a ronin. My clan is gone, taken by the waves on our journey. But if you think that makes me easy prey, think again. My blade remains as sharp as the day of its forging.”
Kizu shifted his stance.
“Kizu, your footing is off,” Faible said. “That position makes you less prepared to strike, not more.”
Kizu sighed and lowered the wooden sword.
“I’m going to take five,” Kizu said.
“Good idea,” Faible agreed. “Go practice those vocal exercises we use for warming up. Basil, let’s review that romance scene again.”
They called over one of the other students and started chatting about body language.
“He’s going hard on you out there,” Ione commented as Kizu sat down beside her in the back of the audience seats. She passed him a bottle of water.
“Faible’s been more irritable since he found out we’re dating,” Kizu commented.
“You’re sure that’s the reason?”
Kizu shrugged. “Makes sense to me. I’d be irritable too if someone snatched you up before I could ask you out.”
“Could have fooled me,” Ione said wryly. “You certainly took your time.”
“The sloth lecturing the tortoise about speed?”
She elbowed him just as he’d raised the bottle to his lips, making him splutter.
“Maybe we need to help him find someone,” Ione said.
“You mean play matchmaker?” Kizu wiped the water from his face with a sleeve.
“Yeah. Any candidates? How about Stina?”
“Um. Maybe? But witches don’t usually make for the best romantic partners.”
The crone had told him too many stories about men falling in love with witches for him to ever be a firm advocate of someone pursuing one. Some of those stories had been first hand accounts too.
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“Hm. Basil and Aoi are both taken. What about my sister?”
“You mean the one person at the academy who hates Faible more than anyone else? Yeah. I think pairing them up is a great idea,” Kizu said dryly.
Ione tapped her lip. “Maybe….”
Whatever it was on her mind, it disappeared as she got called over to perform a summon of a wild boar on the stage. Basil needed experience with the fight choreography for his next scene.
Kizu returned his attention to reviewing his lines.
“You wish to meet my blade? No…. You wish to meet my blade?”
“I prefer not, instead, I offer you my thanks, Kaga Kizu.” Stina sat down in Ione’s vacated seat. “I admit, my mind was filled with suspicion when you first proposed the concept, however this club exceeds the heights of the stars above.”
“Glad you’re enjoying it. What were you suspicious of? It’s just a club.”
“A ploy to gain my trust only to result in a betrayal!” The way Stina spoke really made her perfect for the stage. The witch was an absolute natural at bringing gravitas and energy. Faible never questioned her diaphragm.
“Well, nothing like that. Though I have been meaning to ask you if we can continue our discussion about the Tross covens. You mentioned they might offer me protection?”
The tall girl nodded. “A difficult decision. Fate links us. However, not so tightly as to make the task simple. If only fate had also seen fit to grant you proper genitalia. Then only a quick oath would forever bind us together in an act of protection.”
“If only.” Kizu rolled his eyes.
“I must admit my stupefaction at the crone’s decision to adopt one such as you. A perilous decision that only she could possibly evade the consequences of. And for you to be tantalized by such supreme power, you must wish dearly to join our covens.”
“The crone once hexed me and forced me to live a week as a girl when one of her acquaintances came for a visit. Definitely prefer who I am. Thanks for the concern though.”
“Truly? Well, each of us forges our own path through the stars. Whether doom awaits is solely a decision for kismet.”
“What can your coven do for me?” Kizu asked. “And what do you want in return?”
Leaning forward, Stina clasped her hands together and rested her chin on her steepled fingers. The black paint on her fingernails glittered in the dim light from overhead.
“My coven wishes to forge a chain between themselves and your master. For decades, we have been at odds with your friends in the Hon Basin.”
“Not my friends,” Kizu quickly amended.
“The coven believes that a relation between ourselves and the crone could bear fruit. And so I have offered myself as a sacrifice.”
“Sacrificed? To what?” Kizu asked. “Please don’t tell me…”
“A sacrifice of my time and resources.”
Kizu let out a breath, incredibly relieved. For a second there he had thought she had been about to—
“And should I bear a daughter with you, the knot that links my coven to your master would be quite resilient.”
“NO!” Kizu shot to his feet. “Absolutely not!”
“A simple possibility,” Stina said, her cadence placating while still dramatic. “Not a certainty. I find it far less than ideal, myself. For what if I bore a son? No, fate plays too many games for me to enter that ring willingly. And I prefer to not be touched by someone I know so little of. Perhaps in a decade you might find me more willing.”
People were staring at Kizu now. His outburst had caused two of the first years up on stage to flub their lines. He bowed his head in apology to Faible and sat back down.
“What other options are on the table?” Kizu asked. “I’m not a girl. And I’m not having a child with anyone in your coven. How else can I get your coven’s protection?”
“An offering of a soul under your authority,” Stina said. “As long as the coven believes it to be of equal value, you would be placed beneath our umbrella of protection. Not as strongly as the other two other possibilities, alas, it is the most diplomatic solution.”
“I’m not offering you someone else’s soul either.”
“Then we are at an impasse. Think over my offers. Now, I believe the gnome has need of my talents. I depart!”
Stina stood and with a billow of her black cape, trotted off in the direction of the stage. Every one of her steps left behind a black footprint on the ground that smoldered with curls of smoke before dissipating a few seconds later.
Kizu thought over her demands while he watched her play out the role of villain, striking down one of the first years with an illusionary blood scythe. Basil kneeled before her, a servant to the story’s antagonist.
Stina’s coven wanted a soul from Kizu. That likely meant a human soul. And probably female. Did he know anyone he could give to her? An enemy? His eyes drifted over to Ione who was now working with a summoned hellhound.
Someone with two female souls.
A plan started to form in his mind.
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