The Avatar's adventure in magic ends somewhat ignominiously for Envoy, as the Caroban Watch seems to come out of nowhere and, perhaps more forcibly than strictly necessary, escorts her back to her cell. Their treatment of the hapless Eeee that Envoy entwined in her spell is, if anything, less kindly. They accuse Envoy of attempting to escape, to which she replies, quite sincerely, that she wasn't aware she was imprisoned, or that the Eeee was acting against the Watch's wishes.
The next several days pass slowly, as Envoy is kept under close observation by a minimum of two people at all times, plus an enchanted "watcher" that looks like a glittering will-o'-wisp the size of her hand, which hovers about her and occasionally makes buzzing and chiming sounds.
Envoy is not kept wholly confined; she does get to go outside to enjoy the sunshine and play in the garden, and her watchers do not seem overtly hostile, even engaging her in conversations and games. But they do strictly control whom she sees and where she goes, and they interrupt any attempts she makes to cast any kinds of spells.
For her part, the Aeolun freely flirts and chats with her captors and seems to be in good spirits, save for the occasional lapse into impatience or boredom. She often tries to invent ailments or injuries in an attempt to gain sympathy or get her watchers to lower their guard, however.
The guards treat her first feigned ailments with a seriousness bordering on the comical, immediately sending for a life mage. The life mage clucks and coos over her the first time, but after finding nothing wrong on that occasion or subsequent ones, he starts to grow irritable. The guards, however, manage to remain patient with her.
As it becomes harder and harder over the days and weeks for Envoy to gain amusement from her chaperones, the Exile-cum-Avatar begins to show signs of aggravation, and the episodes of impatience or haughtiness grow more frequent. Often, she rejects her meals and criticizes other aspects of her treatment as a means of rebellion.
Her behavior is observed with some concern, and a good deal of note-taking on the part of her captors, but she is not freed.
Time passes strangely for Dragon, with the Aspect finding it difficult to judge exactly how long it has been in the "real world" based on the actions it takes on the strangely familiar "ship" that seems a metaphor for Envoy's mind. Dragon further explores the ship, and is subjected to more of Child's and Playmate's sometimes cruel pranks. Mother did not appear to be angry with Dragon after their spell completed – if anything, she was pleased – but Dragon still finds herself removed from the Bridge and back to her quarters whenever she stirs up trouble among the Aspects, and Father has only been by a few times since.
Dragon currently wanders the maze of corridors on the Bridge level, pausing now and then to experiment with control surfaces. Her experience of being squeezed out of a maintenance tunnel is still fresh in her mind, as well as the practical-joke possibilities it presents. Her ability to plan ahead and strategize has lately been set to the task of pulling something on Child and Playmate, preferably involving large amounts of cold oatmeal.
The Aspect has managed to glean enough about the controls of the ship to determine that the "food" ducts are capable of producing oatmeal, in both hot and cold varieties, and, if she can work out how to get around the built in portion-control mechanism, she thinks they are capable ofsplurting out enough to fill a corridor – and the food ducts are placed conveniently at many junctures along the main corridors.
"Now, I just need to trigger these remotely," Dragon muses. She doesn't think there's any reason for her cabin terminal to lock her out of such a harmless function, but isn't sure it will let her monitor specific passages to see who is in them. Perhaps it will let her do it for the sake of a joke, however.
As Dragon muses, she hears the giggling of the two familiar girls, coming from a corridor that intersects, a few yards ahead, with the one she walks along.
Perking an ear towards the giggling, Dragon decides to try something simpler, and begins to configure the food dispenser. Her plan is to have it produce several helpings of mush, but also have the outlet remain sealed until there is too much pressure for it to hold. That should give her the time to get clear and lure the girls into the target area.
The food dispenser makes a quizzical "beep?" as Dragon programs it, and Playmate suddenly hushes her friend's giggling. "Did you hear that?" Dragon works quickly to finish the sequence of commands, and is fairly confident that she's accomplished her objective, as she hears Playmate and Child tiptoeing closer.
The Dragon moves further down the corridor, and makes a show of examining a different panel, with her back turned towards the approaching children.
"Look, there she is!" Playmate's whisper is too loud for real stealth. "Let's get her!" Giggling, they charge towards Dragon, squirting at her with water guns powered by excessively large tanks. The first streams miss, but the subsequent ones land squarely on Dragon's turned back.
Dragon blinks and looks over her shoulder with an expression of mock surprise!
Squealing, the two children dart forward, waving their weapons in their eagerness to douse their "foe". "You're it, Dragon!" Child cries, delighted.
"Augh!" Dragon cries out. "I'm melting!" She staggers back further, hoping to draw the pair of pranksters closer to the estimated blast radius of the oatmeal bomb.
Playmate laughs so hard that most of her shots spray onto the floor, and she follows after the Dragon in an effort to get close enough that even her poor aim can connect. Child does much the same, keeping pace with her companion. Both are almost directly in front of the duct, which is by now conspicuously bulging, when it finally makes an outraged scrawk and releases a gush of gooey oatmeal over the pair!
Permitting herself a brief chuckle, Dragon looks over the sticky pair. "Oh my, what a terrible accident. It looks like you both need a bath right away, before Mother or Father see you."
"Wah!" Playmate wails, wiping gunk off of her arms. "Not a bath!" Child complains, making a face even as she ewws at the sticky oatmeal, chunks of it sliding down her neck, along her robe, and working into her mane. She eyes Dragon suspiciously. "You planned this!" she accuses.
Blinking innocently, Dragon says, "Me? How could I possibly get the better of you and Playmate, though? And it's not asif someone dumped a lot of ice water on your head while you were sleeping or anything."
"Clearly," Dragon says, one forefinger pointing towards the ceiling, "the Avatar itself did it to you. It must like to have fun and play jokes as well, and you have both been such fine role models for it to emulate in this."
"No! You did it!" A glob of oatmeal drips off her finger as Child points it. "I'm telling Mom!" With that, the miniature Aspect whirls and charges down the hallway towards the Bridge.
Playmate turns to watch her companion go, still wiping gunk of her wings. "The Avatar?" she asks Dragon, looking puzzled.
"The ship," Dragon explains, gesturing around her with her hands. "This ship is named 'The Avatar'. Didn't you know that?"
Dragon starts to follow after Child. "I suppose I should see this. I wonder if Mother will laugh at Child or get angry with me instead?"
"Oh!" Playmate nods, following after Dragon and Child. "And you think we set a good example for the ship?" she asks as Child tumbles through the doors to the Bridge, yelling, "MOM! LOOK WHAT DRAGON DID!"
"Perhaps," Dragon says to Playmate, following Child onto the Bridge.
"You don't really think we are, do you? You just said that as – as a story you made up," Playmate says softly, wrinkling her pink nose and licking at one oatmeal covered finger.
Meanwhile, Mother sits in the captain's chair, watching Child run in. "What did Dragon do this time?" she inquires, faint exasperation hinted in her voice.
Dragon grins at Playmate, and says to Mother, "Can I plea self-defense in this case? They were both armed, after all."
Child sputters, "Look at me! Dragon got yucky stuff all over me!" She spreads her arms wide. Oatmeal splatters onto the floor in evidence. "And Playmate, too!"
Across the Bridge, Father glances toward the oatmeal-covered children. For a moment, it seems that there might be a smirk playing on his features, but it must just be a trick of the light. He turns to face Dragon a moment later, with a most solemn and disapproving frown of almost comical proportions.
Mother turns her attention from one small Aspect to the other, then looks to Dragon with the same grave expression. "Did you do this?" she inquires solemnly.
"Well … not directly," Dragon claims. "I set the food dispenser to overload, but they moved into the blast area all on their own. So it is just as much their fault for coming to squirt me as it is mine for setting the trap."
"I see." Mother turns to look at the children again, then lifts her head to smile at Dragon. "Good for you, then, Dragon," she tells the Aspect, then returns her attention to the big view screen, where a familiar cell is visible, with a robed figure standing by the doorway, and another kneeling before the "camera". An overturned tray of food rests on the ground nearby.
Dragon hmms at the screen. "Looks like I'm not the only one spilling food. How much longer do you think it will be before you get exorcised? Sure you don't want to just pull out cleanly now, so Father and Child won't get damaged?"
"Dragon, do you truly believe that having us leave will not harm them?" Mother asks, looking wistfully towards Father. "Would you like us to leave, Father? Do you think that would be best?"
"I don't think it's a matter of choice anymore," Dragon says. "Either they will have you exorcised, or we will all be confined to this cell until you get bored. I merely hope that you can make it easier on Father and Child than an actual exorcism would be. Unless you'd like to make a deal that might avoid the possibility of exorcism altogether?"
Father looks momentarily as if he's been put on the spot, but then he gives Dragon a curious look at her last statement.
Mother flicks her gaze from Father back to Dragon, looking intrigued. "You sound as if you have a new idea to contribute, Dragon," she says, her tone cautious.
"If you weren't seen as a parasitic spirit, I'm sure I could convince our captors that Envoy can be trusted, and doesn't need an exorcism," Dragon explains. "Of course, this means that you will have to stop being a possessing parasite, and more of a … symbiote, like Father."
Father notes, "But I am merely an Aspect, not a true entity. I do not presume to think that the whole of Inala could assume the role of a mere Aspect."
The white figure on the captain's chair tilts her head, studying Dragon. "Elaborate," she says, gesturing with one hand for the Aspect to continue.
"Well, if she's a Goddess, she can do anything," Dragon reasons, with a smirk. "So I think she might agree to having a smaller slice of Envoy than risk losing her Avatar completely."
"It isn't too difficult, Mother," Dragon explains. "You just stop being the final authority, and allow Envoy's original Aspects to merge into a single consciousness again, with you as a second voice. You can certainly make suggestions, and we can work towards common goals, but for you to be in sole control would be out of the question."
"Dragon is correct. The whole of My being cannot be contained within this frame, much less within a single fragment of it." For a moment, as Mother speaks, she blurs, appearing as the unearthly beauty Dragon recalls from the trial. "Fortunately, I neither need nor desire to confine Myself solely to this frame. I only wish for Envoy to carry a piece of Myself with her. Hence, these metaphors."
"I am willing to make allowances for a continuing presence," Dragon admits, "but only to avoid the trauma Father and Child will go through from an exorcism. And also because it may be useful to appear as the Avatar of Inala in order to deal with the mages who conspire against your Realm as well as the mortal one."
"Dragon, this fragmenting of Envoy's consciousness was not my original intent, nor do I desire sole dominion over you. It was your decision to fight me that forced this unnatural schism within us. If you will accept my presence as part of Envoy, and cease to work towards my destruction, then I will gladly return control of this shell to the totality of the Aspects," Mother replies, at length. "But you must be aware that accepting me as part of you will mean that you – Dragon – cannot always bull us through every situation. You must accept the opportunities to enjoy your life, to know pleasure in the people and things around you, and not merely treat them as objects to be forced into place like pieces on a giant machine, until it works the way you think it should."
Dragon bows her head. "I understand. But I also know that pleasure does not come without a price, and reserve the right to oppose actions with undesirable future consequences, even if they do seem good at the moment. Remember the incident in the Garden. If you'd had my insight, you would not have agreed to perform a spell at that moment."
"It was your insight that led us to, Dragon," Mother says, looking to the viewscreen. "You hoped to trick us into a disastrous situation, and you used my hope – that your newfound desire to cooperate might mean you were coming to accept us – lead me into following you. Is that all you are doing now, Dragon? Promising me you will work with me only so that you may access new ways to try to destroy me?"
"I don't have to do anything at all if I wanted to destroy you, Mother," Dragon points out. "I could just wait and let the Mages take care of it. Frankly, I still consider such a merger as the lesser of two evils, but at least Envoy wouldn't be any worse off than a typical mortal, and might also be able to tailor your input into something better suited to her own personality and outlook. But first, I think, we need to discover if such an attempt will actually avoid an exorcism, and for that I need to have access to Envoy's memories since you arrived, as well as being able to communicate with someone on the outside. Can you trust me enough to grant me these things beforehand?"
The lead Aspect studies Dragon, then shakes her head. "Father, tell me. What is best for Envoy? Should I trust her?"
Father jerks to attention, as if snapping out of a trance. "Dragon is at least as trustworthy as if she were your very own sister," the Father says.
"Am I really that nasty, Father?" Dragon asks, grinning.
"Which is to say, 'not at all,' Father?" The shifting white figure shakes her head, and glances to the screen again. "Enough. What you ask for is yours, Dragon." And abruptly the Aspect can recall every detail of the days of Envoy's life since she became an Avatar – twenty of them, to be exact.
Dragon meditates for a few moments to absorb the details. "No crimes, nobody hurt … nothing that couldn't be fixed with a few apologies, perhaps. That is good. This glamour effect though … is this a manifestation due to Inala's presence, or is it something you can control at will, Mother?"
Father says, "I would not mind a sample of those memories for my own reference, Dragon, if you might be inclined to share."
The woman in the captain's chair blinks at Father. "Did you not know? Father – here." She frowns, and imparts understanding to him. The two forgotten children, who had been making little oatmeal sculptures on the floor, suddenly sit back, blinking, as knowledge floods them, as well.
"I am wondering if, when Envoy is in control and Inala is in the background, as it were, if the glamour would stop. But, when Envoy takes on the aspect of the Avatar, and Inala's presence is to the fore, the glamour will return. It would certainly make things easier," Dragon muses.
Mother looks momentarily bewildered, then recovers. "The glamour is Inala's gift to us. It is not under our control, but under Hers. I am not Inala, merely part of the manifestation of Her presence within you."
Dragon hmms, rubbing her chin. "We will have to test it. If you hand control to me in order to convince the Mages to let us try this, and the glamour fades, we will know for sure, and it will help to convince them that we are not trying to trick them. Are you willing to try this?"
The Aspect considers this, then nods. She steps down from the captain's chair, and stands beside it, gesturing for Envoy to ascend.
Dragon pauses before taking the chair, and says, "Fair warning: I've never actually controlled the body before. So grab onto something sturdy and be ready to take over if I mess up."
Father protectively scoops up Playmate and Child from their oatmeal sculpting, and buckles them into their chairs.
Sitting down in the control seat, Dragon clears Envoy's throat.
Father and Mother then move around to stand at Dragon's shoulders, each placing one hand on them. Probe turns from the scene to study her view, and Mother says, "We are all here for you, Dragon. Do not fear."
The will-o'-wisp hovering over Envoy's shoulder lets out at sudden squeal and drops a half foot, while one the guard by the door looks to the Exile suddenly, blinking. "What was that?" The guard kneeling before the supine Exile, picking up the tray of food, looks to the Aeolun as well.
Envoy's expression is showing a remarkable lack of animation at the moment, and her voice isn't showing much more as she asks, "Excuse me, but could you please relay a message to Mage Cyprian of the Sphere of Mind for me?"
The guards exchange wary glances. "What message?" the one kneeling asks.
"The message is: The Dragon requests he and any guests he deems pertinent to meet with her here to discuss Envoy's future," Envoy says, in a near monotone.
"Also, can you tell me if my glamour is still active?" the Aeolun adds.
"It's not," the standing guard says. "Is that you, Mage Envoy? The glamour's gone now, and I think there's another spell that was on you that just … weakened?"
"Thank you, that information is appreciated," Envoy says. "Sorry about the mess. Will you relay the message?"
The guards look at each other, and the kneeling one, a Gallah, rubs the back of his neck. "Uh … I don't think we can tell, um, Cyprian. Maybe Dean Viscoi, do you think?" The Gallah looks to his comrade, who scowls.
After a moment, Envoy says, "Viscoi is acceptable, but Cyprian is needed to verify my identity, so must be present as well."
"I, uh, really think he's kinda out of the question. There're other people that you know, aren't there? I think that poodle lady is still on Caroban. And Mage Mystico said he knew you, uh, before this," the dog says, looking lost.
"Mystico, yes," Envoy says, in that same eerie monotone. "And Lady Elise if she is available. It is very important that there be no question that I am who I claim to be."
The Gallah scuffs at the floor and looks at his fellow, who doesn't look any happier for this. "We can probably manage that," he says, somewhat optimistically. "Shift change is due soon; we'll talk to the Watch lieutenant then about it. If the scry-ball hasn't already."
Envoy attempts a smile, which comes out looking like it was done by a drunk mortician, and says, "Thank you. Until then, we now return you to your regularly scheduled Avatar."
