Far Off Unhappy Things
Chapter Two: Fleur
By Renko Doremi Rodenburg
In fair Lusan, twinned city, Fleur stepped out of a mirror and into a private study.
A raspy voice greeted her. “You’re back.”
“I am,” she said solemnly.
On the reading table, a book slammed shut. Slowly, something took form. A young girl, sitting on the table, slightly translucent even after fully materializing: Amelie.
“Where’s Richard?” she asked Fleur.
“Dead. My sister’s champion-” Fleur froze for a moment. “It was some kind of monster. What parts of him aren’t strewn throughout the courtyard where we held our fight are in its stomach.”
“Oh,” she said. “You got along well with him the last few weeks.”
“I did,” Fleur said as she sat down on an oaken chair in front of her table.
“Now what?” the dead girl sitting on the table asked.
“Life goes on. Tomorrow morning I’m going to look for a job again before Ceremony.”
Amelie laughed.
“It’s not funny,” Fleur said, tears welling in her eyes.
“Didn’t mean it like that,” Amelie replied.
Fleur let her head rest on the desk and sighed. “I’ll go eat something a few floors down.”
“Will you be back tonight?”
“No, I won’t.”
“Aw,” Amelie said, disappointed.
Sighting again, Fleur picked herself up and left the private study. Walking through the Spire’s library to one of the many stairways down, she ran into some other students.
“Hey, Knives,” someone said to her. She walked on pretending not to notice. Six floors and a lot of staircases down was a large cafeteria. The room looked like it used to be much larger, but now suddenly ended. A gaping hole halfway the room, a window from where one saw the entire city below. The other half of the room cut clean off, as if someone had wanted to erase some ugly protrusion from the Spire. She felt uneasy, and instinctively reached over her shoulder to touch her back.
“I’ll have some onion stew,” Fleur asked the young man serving cafeteria duty right now.
“Almost out, but I’ll scrape some from the bottom of the cauldron for you.” He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.
She took the bowl of burnt onion stew and sat down against the far wall, next to the window and stared at the city below. The river separating them from Luson, the little roads, the people going their ways on them and the foliage that seemed to grow everywhere except the hanging gardens it was supposed to grow.
“Hey, Knives,” someone said to her. She didn’t look up from her food.
“Go away, I’m eating.”
“I’ll catch you later,” he said, then walked off.
The food was scalding hot, but she ate it quickly. The sooner she was in her room the better. She dropped the empty bowl back off at the cafeteria’s counter, and went up endless staircases again to get to her room.
Finally, quiet.
Her room was sparsely decorated. Aside from a bed, a closet and a door to a cramped bathroom all that livened up the room was a map of the Twin Cities and the forest around. She’d throw that out too, but it kept reappearing over her bed when she tried, and eventually she had given up.
Today was a disaster, tomorrow might be better. She dimmed the mechanical light and made preparations to sleep.
Her room did not have a window, so she had no idea when the sun rose. Didn’t matter. At exactly six she was up and about, dressed and off to descend the twenty-something stairs to get to the city below.
Once on the streets, she felt slightly better. It was still somewhat dark, but the sun would rise soon. Even here everything was completely covered in little stairs up and down, bridges, streets elevated above another and houses built weirdly in-between two layers. She’d gotten used to it long ago. Once was twenty minutes walking away from the Spire, she started going to bakeries, clothiers, pharmacists and woodworkers all going through the final preparations for a busy day, and asked for a job.
Two hours later, the sun now brightly illuminating the ancient stone city, she returned to the grand tower in the center of the city again, still no closer to having found any normal work.
Tired, she made sure she looked presentable before heading towards the Palace.
Guards bowed before her as she walked in. There was a bit of time before Ceremony started, in the throne room. so the court mingled with each other, talked pleasantries and waxed poetically about things of no significance at all. Fleur picked a chair a bit in the back and sat down, waiting.
The throne room was styled like a cathedral, a strange combination of religion and opulence. Gaudy decorations like rows and rows of crystal chandeliers, marble white walls decorated with golden filigree depicting the city, the Prince, and the court. Rows of chairs and benches not unlike a church, before a large throne on an even larger stage, reminiscent of a theater stage. Sometimes the Prince would enact plays with himself in the lead, other days receive worship from the court. Today he would only accept ritual platitudes from some foreign emissaries.
“Hey, Knives,” someone said.
“What is wrong with you,” she snapped at the person sitting beside her, before realizing something was incredibly, terribly wrong on a scale before unimaginable to her.
“How did you follow me here,” she asked the person. “Are you Court? Why are you stalking me?”
She strained her eyes trying to make out features, details, anything from the stranger sitting on the chair next to her. It was as if he wasn’t there at all. An emptiness, an absence.
“You’ve been right behind me all day. I saw you. I just didn’t notice.”
“Au-” he started to swear, before he realized where he was. “Gods, I mean. You finally take notice. You’re hard to get a hold of, Knives.”
“What are you? What do you want? You’re scaring me.”
She began to hyperventilate as she thought about how long the stranger might’ve been right behind her. Thought about him following her into her room without her noticing. Thought about alien beings and sorcery.
He removed the hood of his cloak. She hadn’t even realized he was wearing a cloak.
“There’s something woven into my garments that makes me stand out less.”
Ragged brown hair and pale eyes. A shade of blue so light it might as well have been gray.
“Tell me what you want. Now. Or else I’ll cause a scene,” she said. It was an empty threat.
“Some people are in need of help. They’ll reward you well,” the stranger said.
“I don’t need money,” she said. “Now leave me alone.”
“Rich, influential people can get you a lot more than money. How about a cozy coffee shop on the edge of town to employ you? Normality. Or maybe you want to work hard in a bakery. Maybe they’ll pull some strings and make you a librarian. Not in the spire- in a tiny bookstore selling romance to the gentry.”
She stared at him.
“Come on, Knives.”
“Stop fucking calling me that,” she said, losing composure for a moment. Startled, she looked around. Nobody had heard her. In fact, nobody had noticed anything at all.
“The answer is no,” she said. “Get lost.”
Suddenly she found herself utterly lost as to what she was doing. It took her a few moments to realize she had been talking to someone- someone hard to track, hard to perceive, hard to remember even. But now she knew. He wouldn’t catch her off-guard again.
In her hands she found a stiff paper card. “Fisher’s Lane 304,” it read. “Knock twice after midnight.” She didn’t remember him giving it to her. It was distressing, and she didn’t get why she had to deal with this. What she had done to deserve this?
All around her people took seats in the massive throne room. It was time for Ceremony. When most people sat down, heralds arrived and announced Autumn himself.
The Prince walked onto the stage from the left, wearing a spider-silk dress and a laurel in all the shades of Fall. His horns had been decorated with bits of bone dangling from braided thread, and a large arrow held two folds of dress together on his back. As he took the throne, one of his heralds announced the beginning of Ceremony.
From the right, the first Celebrant came on stage. An older man, dressed in what seemed to be silver thread woven into tough, rigid armor emblazoned by a stylized blue gemstone.
“The emissary of the riverlands. Here to swear allegiance to Autumn, and offer sacrifice to the Twin Cities,” the herald shouted.
He approached the Prince, and kneeled before him. Prince Autumn extended his right foot, and the emissary kissed it.
“The riverlands swear allegiance eternal to Prince Autumn, and every land where He may roam. My people have brought sacrifice to the Twin Cities- bones of mermaids, and blue stones from the gemling river, as well as four score slaves,” he said in hoarse voice.
“May the Autumn Wind ease your travels,” the Prince responded.
The riverlander rose, and quickly left the same way he had come.
“The emissary from Hades, here to swear allegiance to Autumn, and offer sacrifice to the Twin Cities,” the herald announced the next Celebrant.
A pale woman wearing dark robes, a mirror around her neck and holding a lantern in hand approached the throne next. It was as if she moved without moving her legs, flowing over the floor instead of walking. She kneeled before the prince, and kissed his foot.
“The lands of the dead swear allegiance eternal to Prince Autumn, and every land where He may roam,” she said. “My people have brought sacrifices to the Twin Cities, among them water from the river Lethe, and gold from the chthonic realm.”
“May the Autumn Wind ease your travels,” the Prince said.
The woman left the stage.
“The final Celebrant of this joyous day,” the herald announced. “The emissary from the Empire of the Sun.”
A man in ornate, knightly armor walked onto the stage. A squire holding a banner portraying the sun over a white tower followed him.
“The Sun God and Her lands swear allegiance to no-one,” he said.
The crowd- the royal court of Prince Autumn- gasped in terror. Fleur her heartbeat went through the roof.
“Repent,” Prince Autumn said, his voice like a cold wind brushing through a million dense leaves. “Repent, and swear allegiance. You will be spared.”
The emissary spat on the ground before the Prince.
A strong wind howled through the throne room, and turned the emissary and the banner of his squire into ash.
Everyone in the court burst into praise and cheering, clapping and cries of exaltation.
“Tell your goddess to prepare for war,” the Prince told the squire, who stood frozen in place, as if petrified.
Two guards approached from the right, and dragged the squire away.
Fleur clapped along with the crowd, forcing herself to act energetic, to smile for once.
“Tomorrow for Ceremony will be songs and worship, make sure you come prepared,” the herald shouted.
The crowd cheered on as the Prince got off his throne, told his audience “May the Autumn Wind ease your travels,” and exited left of stage.
Completely shook, Fleur made her way through the excited crowd. They would stick around, discuss gossip and plan lavish parties. They’d plan their meetings for intrigue and networking. Fleur had no stomach for it, not today, and so she went straight back to the Spire. She whispered to herself, things even she didn’t quite understand- half formed words and rambling thoughts- as tears started to well up in her eyes.
Once back home, she went to the private study only she could access, the one Amelie haunted.
“Fleur,” the girl chirped as Fleur entered the study. Slowly, she condensed into semi-opaque form, sitting on the desk. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Hm,” Fleur replied as she sat down and let her head rest on the table.
“Poor girl,” Amelie said, smiling. “Have you considered slitting your wrists?”
“That doesn’t kill me,” she replied. “And I don’t want to die. I want to be happy.”
“I’m pretty happy,” Amelie said.
“I’m sure Richard is as well then,” Fleur spat. She changed subjects, there was nothing to gain from arguing with the dead girl. “On that note, some girl wearing a mirror and a lantern was supposedly an emissary of Hades. Said the dead swear allegiance to the Prince,” she said.
“Ouch,” her translucent friend said. “Keep her away from me.”
“Why is that?”
“You know how the children’s nursery rhyme goes: She’s got a lantern to guide the dead on their way, a mirror to lead the living astray, and a scythe to take your soul away, right?”
“I did not,” Fleur answered.
“Well, I don’t feel like being guided on my way just yet.”
“Who is she?” Fleur asked.
“A reaper of the harvest. The soft hand to cut down the wheat when it is ripe, and bring its bounty to the lord of the land,” her friend said.
“Ah, that explains it all of course. For sure.”
“Pretty exciting, don’t you think? Anything else happen today?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“Did you get a job?”
“No,” she said, tears flowing freely over her cheeks. “Amelie?”
“Yes?”
“I should go to class today. There’s court stuff to attend to after.”
“But? But you’re not going to?” Amelie started to grow excited.
“No.”
“Will you play games with me then today, and read me stories? All the way into tonight?” Amelie started to glow as she said it, faintly warping the lights and shadows in the small study.
“If it’s okay. I can’t take-” she almost choked on her words. “I can’t take it. I can’t act like everything is normal and carry on.”
“Hurray,” Amelie cheered. “Will you stay tonight too? Will you sleep here and keep me company?”
“I can, but you have to promise not to hurt me when I sleep, then.”
“Aw, not even by accident?”
“No Amelie, not even by accident,” Fleur said.
“I’m so happy,” Amelie said, overflowing with excitement. “Will you read me stories first? Read me stories!”
“I will,” Fleur said, her face wet with tears. “Yeah, let’s-” She choked on her words again. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
I really love the world you’re setting up. There’s so many facets of it and the characters intrigue me. Even though we haven’t seen much of them, there’s a lot of depth in their interactions and it has me curious to see where they’re going and where they will end up. Keep up the good work!
Structures rise again, yet we’re still stuck on ivory towers. There is still much to see, I wish to drink from this life itself!
I will be waiting warmly for the next piece of delightful work.
I will start by saying that Fleur is a very pretty name and one I am incredibly partial to. My opinions on this chapter will likely be somewhat biased because of this.
I notice that a lot of stories with wide casts tend to sort of smother you with characters in the beginning without any context whatsoever, so I really like the approach this chapter takes. There’s none of the jumping around that you see in some other pieces of writing, where the cast is introduced with their independent goals and motives without first establishing any relationship between characters. Instead, this chapter makes pretty much immediate reference to the events of the previous, and this sort of daisy-chaining approach seems like a good contrast; there’s a clear point where things pick up, and you already have some context for these characters and a reason to care about them.
I absolutely love the “fair Lusan, twinned city” line in the opening too. The sense of duality in these sorts of things tends to be really cool, so I’m interested to hear about Lusan’s counterpart and the city’s duplex nature in general.
(Future Me addendum: it intuitively feels like the mirrors should play into the twinned city
dynamic somehow, and I am extremely eager to find out how & where.)
Also really interesting to me is that Fleur is mentioned as getting along with her champion for a few weeks. Is the shelf life of a champion really that bad? Considering the way Reinhild mauled him it doesn’t really surprise me, but does make me wonder even more about the context of all this.
The setting here seems really interesting so far too. A private study, transport-y mirrors, a bunch of students and a semi-translucent dead girl are all at complete odds with the very serene, isolated feeling the previous chapter carried. This sort of contrast is great for building up a sense of mystique, and generally making the scope of the narrative feel wider. It’s just generally a good way to give the narrative some breathing room early on I think, and to stoke that sense of “forces are at play that are beyond my understanding” that everything seems to have been hinting at so far. I like it!
Fleur seems pretty aloof, or off-put – or something – and I get the feeling it isn’t solely because her champion was turned into one of those All-You-Can-Eat restaurants. Her not smiling back at the guy serving cafeteria duty is a pretty good example of what I mean, where it really seems like she’s got a lot on her mind. And this is before we’ve even got to the Ceremony stuff that was hinted at earlier!
I really like the mention of her room’s decoration after she’s come up from the cafeteria – this is one thing that, in retrospect, felt like there was maybe less of in the first chapter? The way the household was actually decorated isn’t really mentioned from what I remember, which – to be fair! – it probably didn’t need to be, but I do like the way it’s used as an opportunity for characterization in Fleur’s case. It sort of paints her as a very frugal character, who’s exceptionally stubborn, and I think it lines up well with her generally aloof nature and does a good job rounding out her character. One thing that’s interesting to me is the mention of a mechanical light. I’m kinda curious what that means for the general level of mechanics/technology/so on in FOUT, since the first chapter seemed pretty sparse and very “medieval fantasy” technology-wise. I’ll see, I guess!
Past that, I have to say that I love the way the city is described – very intricate and sprawling, all slightly incomprehensible and ancient. It paints a really great mental picture I think. There are some other spots of grammatical weirdness in this section that might be worth mentioning, but they’re pretty minor and, again, it feels nitpicky to bring them up. I like the city so far though, and using the river as a way to subtly mention Losan is a nice way to introduce it.
I do really like the way the palace and the court are handled. The “waxing poetically about things of no significance at all” line is great; the exaggeration really nails the feeling. I’m curious why the guards are bowing to her though! I’d find it strange for her to be royalty and not live within the palace, but I suppose if she’s at school elsewhere in the city maybe that makes sense? That aside, I adore the description of the throne room and the way everything is handled here to characterize the prince. It’s a great way to hint at him being a massive prick without actually showing him being, well, a massive prick, and it fits well with the whole “show don’t tell” adage that got beaten into my brain when I was still taking English classes.
The entire conceptualization of the “invisible man” (both figurative and literal) is really, really cool to me. This is one particular trope that I adore; him being “hard to remember” and so hard to perceive that Fleur doesn’t even realize he’s wearing a cloak lines up really well with… whatever he’s trying to headhunt her for, and alludes to that “forces are at play beyond my understanding” feeling that I mentioned before. It feels distinctly sinister, even if he is trying to be personable about everything. I do want to know why he’s calling her knives, though! It seems like a… strange nickname to call her, especially since she really isn’t a fan of it.
I did say the prince sounded like a prick before, but he’s wearing a dress and has horns so I can no longer fault him, and the fact that his name is Autumn is really interesting. There’s absolutely no way this isn’t related to the whole “endless autumn” concept somehow. Describing his voice like a cold wind brushing through dense leaves is great too – I love the mental image that cultivates. It really echoes the weight that his words carry. The follow-up of a strong wind “howling” through the throne room is pretty excellent too, like his warning to repent and be spared was the “calm before the storm,” so to speak. And turning the banner to ash as well as the emissary is a lovely spot of characterization! It’s an uncommonly strong display of force, where the very symbol of disobedience is completely eviscerated as well. It’s something that I feel like is sorta uncommon? In a lot of what I’ve read previously, when somebody is turned to ash or salt or what-have-you, their banner and armor will clatter to the floor, or something to that effect, so it’s really cool how “sincere” this is in comparison. Another thing I particularly like here is that it’s not inherently “central” to Fleur – it feels like a narrative that she’s part of, not a narrative she’s responsible for, if that makes sense – as if everything in Ceremony would still be happening without her here, and that she’s just an observer. It’s good worldbuilding, I think! In general this is something I like about this chapter – we get to see Fleur go about her day and see how events influence her, which is great for deepening her character.
It’s nice to see Amelie get some more dialogue – and characterization in general – back in the study as well. I do feel like she didn’t get too much in the way of descriptions earlier on, so it’s nice that her character gets a bit more attention here. She seemed slightly exotic before and that is absolutely back on display; while I think the end of the chapter does well to contribute more to her character, the long stretch of dialogue here does feel… a bit plain, maybe? There’s not much in the way of descriptions of bodily language or similar, so it’s a bit harder to get a feel for the atmosphere of this little segment, I think – that being said, I really like the description of Amelie starting to glow! It’s cool to have her ghostly characteristics mentioned a little more here.
This is about where the chapter ends, once again with somebody in tears. I really have to wonder what the hell is going on with Amelie if she’s hurting Fleur in her sleep – this seems like a common theme? – but I suppose I’ll find out! Overall I think I enjoyed this chapter a bit more than the first, but it’s hard to say. I definitely feel like it’s starting to paint out the world a bit more, which I appreciate!