Nemorosis
patreon
The Bell Tolls for Me 87: Depends on You
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 00:44:08 +0000 UTCThe moment that the security breech was discovered, everyone gathered around to see what had been left behind. Isabella stood in a room with Abigail, Allison, Valerio, Gaspar, and Arthur.
“This scroll has a disassociation spell on it,” Arthur said with conviction as he looked upon the scroll that had been left behind by that white wolf.
“Teleportation, you mean?” Valerio asked, pacing around the room with his arms crossed. “How could you let something like this happen? If those were the king’s men—”
“If they were, then no place would be safe,” Arthur interrupted. “It’s not teleportation. It’s disassociation. It projects the reader’s consciousness to another location.” He picked it up, but didn’t unravel it. “It’s functionally quite similar to a familiar, or a golem.”
“It doesn’t sound that dangerous.” Isabella looked upon the scroll. “Even when one’s familiar is destroyed, it isn’t the end of the caster’s life. I’m told that it’s quite painful, but that the pain fades rather quickly. Would that be the same case here?”
“If I’m supervising you…” Arthur walked around the room, hesitant to commit to an answer. “…I suppose that there’s not many ways major damage could be done. Considering we’re dealing with people that have knowledge deeper than myself, I can’t say that with total reliability.”
Isabella sighed. “Every day that passes, I regret that Randolph is staying with the elves.”
“You have me,” Abigail spoke up. “I don’t think that scroll is especially dangerous.”
Allison nodded in agreement. “If this person was dangerous, I highly doubt that the north would have been able to go so long without noticing their presence.”
“I’d like to consult one more person.” Isabella picked up the paper and studied it. “After that, I think I’ll use it.”
***
Isabella walked up the long spiral stairs of the tower. Awaiting her at the top was a single solid door made of pine. She pushed it open. Beyond was a dignified but cramped room, possessing decent quality-furniture and one window blocked by iron bars. Violet eyes turned to watch her after she entered. Bernadetta sat cross-legged on the bed.
“So she comes again,” Bernadetta said in greeting. “Am I right in assuming that you’re not giving me this treatment as one final act of nicety before the end?”
“You’ll be staying here from now on.” Isabella looked around the room. “I hope that you can come to enjoy your time here.”
Bernadetta laughed. She seemed less grave than she had before. It was subtle, but present.
“I don’t quite understand why you’re doing this,” Bernadetta continued.
Isabella walked deeper in. “In my last life… you killed me. I wasn’t lying when I said that.” She paused for a few moments, lost in thought. “Still, you should be punished for what you’ve actually done. And even then, I believe that your actions should be framed by your circumstances.”
“So, you intend to keep me imprisoned,” Bernardetta said. “Consulting me for advice or information whenever you please?”
“Maybe some friendly visits, too.” Isabella smiled. “Still, you’re not wrong. And on that front…” she sat on the bed just beside Bernadetta. “While you were working with the sages, did they ever give any hints about a member of the Eagaliteth dwelling in the North who made substantial use of familiars?”
Bernadetta closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “As I recall… they did mention that the north was off-limits to them. I don’t know that I ever got a specific reason, but I didn’t get the impression it was a hostile relationship. Just… territorial, like they didn’t want to step on any toes.” She opened her eyes. “Why? Does that help you?”
Isabella absorbed that information, then nodded. “You may not have meant it, but… you were a great comfort to me when I was younger, Bernadetta.”
“You were quite easy to comfort,” Bernadetta said. “When people want things, that’s difficult. But when it’s just a nice word and a kind touch, that’s easy. Even… ideal. I thought I could always tell what your aims were, but now… I’ve no idea.”
Isabella shrugged, and then stood.
“Your last life… must’ve been hard, to change you so,” Bernadetta noted.
“Perhaps I’ll tell you about it,” Isabela mused, then made for the door.
***
Isabella once again stood with her closest allies, presided over by Arthur as she handled the scroll that had been given to them.
“If anything starts to happen to you, I’m going to sever the spell no matter what,” Arthur said. “In all honesty, I can’t think that this is something hostile. Whatever the case, be careful of what you say. These types… they’re temperamental.”
“I have a great deal of experience in minding what I say before temperamental people.” Isabella followed her assurance with a smile.
Isabella sat down in a comfortable chair—she might be here a fairly long while, after all. Then she took the scroll, neatly bound by a wax label. She lightly thumbed the wax seal off the paper, then unraveled the scroll. The moment that Isabella looked upon it, it felt as though she was falling inward. It wasn’t the grandiose spirituality of the ritual conducted by the elves, but rather the clarity of movement that came with any other kind of magic. Indeed, it felt not entirely dissimilar from when she called upon her familiar and transferred her consciousness inside it.
Isabella embraced the feeling.
***
Isabella cautiously blinked open her eyes. The body that she was in felt unfamiliar. She moved her head, feeling dense fur push against her skin. She was surrounded by small furry white blobs. After a moment, she realized they were wolf cubs. Looming large before her was a huge white wolf—though, perhaps it was only huge because Isabella had become so small.
A few moments later, Isabella realized that she was also a small furry white blob. Her consciousness had been transferred to a wolf cub—or at least, something resembling it. She broke free of the suffocating squirming mass of cubs nursing at their mother’s side, plodding out across the snow around them. She looked around, and was utterly awed by what she saw.
A forest surrounded her on every side. The trees weren’t made of wood and leaves; their trunks, their branches, and each leaf was sculpted entirely of ice. They stood boldly amid the plane of endless snow. They didn’t seem to be melting despite the sun above boring down. Some of the trees were clear enough to be seen through, while others were murky, and a select few displayed the reflections of everything around them.
Isabella walked up to one of the trees that had a reflection, stumbling slightly on account of having four legs now. She saw herself. The wolf cub she’d come to inhabit had bright burgundy eyes, the same as hers. She looked around, and thinking this would function as any other familiar, tried to speak. Isabella’s ‘hello’ came out as a high-pitched whine.
Embarrassed by the noise she made, Isabella looked around further for any hint of the person who had contacted them. At first she thought it might be the mother wolf, but it didn’t seem to be paying any mind to her at all. Isabella scanned every direction, hoping to find a structure or person, but there was nothing.
After a while of fruitless searching, Isabella began to hear a chiming coming from the trees. It wasn’t all of the trees, she realized: only a select few. Isabella allowed her curiosity to guide her, stumbling and bumbling across the snow-covered ground in pursuit of the noise. If she couldn’t find anything soon, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
Gradually, a heavy fog descended over the forest of ice trees. Isabella froze in place at first, but eventually steeled her courage and proceeded with the noise guiding her way. The chiming trees were her lodestar, and before long the dense fog began to dissipate. When she could finally see clear enough to look around again, the forest of ice was thinning. And ahead of her…
A grand palace made solely of ice rose up to pierce the sky ahead of her. With her diminished stature, she couldn’t quite tell how large it was. It seemed as large as the royal palace in Dovhain, but Isabella couldn’t be certain. Its two gargantuan double doors at the front stood open, almost as if welcoming her inside.
If this is a happy fairy tale, this is part where the small little wolf cub finds a friend, Isabella thought. If it’s a sad one… this is the part where he becomes a scarf.
Isabella drew nearer to the wide-open door. As she did, she began to hear a woman humming. It was a slow-paced, pleasant thing, almost like a lullaby. It echoed from the inside of the icy palace. Isabella felt nervousness and curiosity in equal measure as she pressed onward, seeking the source of the song.
The lullaby rolled lazily without an obvious source as Isabella pressed inward. The halls of this place were plain and unadorned, but remained beautiful as the sunlight from above reflected and refracted in innumerable interesting ways. As the song grew louder, it felt as though Isabella’s legs and eyelids were getting heavier.
When Isabella felt liable to fall over, she briefly glimpsed a pale hand brush past her before she was lifted into the air.
“Such a curious, trusting child,” the woman remarked.
Isabella tried to crane her head to see who was grabbing her, but then the woman began to hum once more, and the energy drained from her like nothing else. Her voice and her presence both were endlessly warm. The woman carried her down the rest of the icy palace, eventually coming to a staircase that descended downward into the earth.
As Isabella barely kept her eyes open, they came into something of a study. There was a fireplace crackling in the back, and beside it, two chairs opposite one another. There was a book perched open on the armrest of one chair. The humming woman approached the fire. When they arrived at the chairs, the woman delicately lowered Isabella onto a purple pillow atop one of the chairs. Then, she moved to the other and sat down, and Isabella saw the presumed owner of this palace for the first time.
The woman wore an elegant white cotton dress, and had quite pale skin. Most of her hair was black, but it was marked by natural streaks of gray which seemed to be her only feature betraying age. She styled her hair much as Isabella did—very long, and quite straight. Her face was quite youthful, and her eyes a light gray. Isabella felt a little unease when she thought she saw fur decorating her sleeves, but relaxed when an ermine dangling from her wrist crawled onto her lap and then jumped down to the floor before scampering away.
“I admire your courage,” the woman said. “It can be very difficult to extend trust under any circumstances. It takes even greater fortitude to continue trusting when it has left injuries in the past.”
Isabella watched her curiously. Just who was this woman?
“You’ve come all this way,” she continued, a smile playing about her face. “Cat got your tongue?”
Isabella thought speech was lost to her, and shifted in total bewilderment when she realized that she was herself once more—that is, she was back to being human. She sat in the chair opposite this woman, basking in the warmth of the fire. As her host watched expectantly, Isabella pushed aside her alarm and faced her host squarely.
“Who are you?” Isabella asked.
“That depends on you,” she answered immediately. “I’d like to be your teacher, but I could be any number of things. Friend, acquaintance—the list is endless. If you want my name, I cannot give it. But if you want a name, you may provide one.”
“You’d like to be my… teacher?” Isabella repeated.
“Yes… though I’d like to be everyone’s teacher,” the woman confirmed.
“Are you part of the Eagaliteh?” Isabella pressed.
The woman nodded. Isabella inhaled, realizing she was on the right track. She met the woman’s eyes.
“Shall I call you Teacher, then?”
The woman entwined her hands. “That shall suffice.”
<Previous Table of Contents Next>
Comments
WarStrider72
So Isabella met an.... older Elsa?
WarStrider72
Thanks for the chapter!
