Lucid Dreaming (6/10) - Zola

Co-written with Anthony 💚

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In the cocktail bar of the Mountain Palace, whilst Alphonse, Carnán, Ivan, and Vicros are drinking their rage and frustration away, Zola sits at a table not too far from her companions, waiting for her guest to arrive.

One moment she is alone, but the next, the chair opposite her (has that chair been there the whole time?) is occupied by Imryll Elamaris, a shower of tiny sparkling lights cascade of her as she appears, a cocktail already in hand. “Zola! You really have kept me waiting too long for another visit.”

Zola jumps to her feet in surprise. “Lady Imryll! My apologies!?” she squeaks out and hastily curtsies at the spymaster.

“Sit down, dear,” Imryll chuckles. “So, I hear that you have finally met the delightful doctor? How was he?” She has a wide, wide grin across her face.

Zola slides back into her seat. “Oh, yes…” she sighs heavily. “That’s what I’d like to speak to your ladyship about. Would you like a cocktail? I have a spare free order I can make. Or perhaps you’d like mine?” She nudges her glass forward to the other woman. “It’s the feeling of punching someone really annoying in the face.”

Imryll laughs. “No, dear, I presume you may need it more than me right now. Besides, I have my own.” She gently shakes her own drink. “Unequivocal Sexual Victory today. Wouldn’t want to spoil it.”

“U-Unequivocal—?” Zola shakes her head furtively. Oh my gods, focus! “Anyhow. Yes, Dr. Killian! He is the wooorst. But somebody is messing with his experiments and now Eric is a vegetable. Not literally, but…you know.”

“Mmm,” Imryll intones whilst taking a sip. “That’ll be Xantha. They have neighbourly…hatred for each other.”

“Oh, so your ladyship does know about it? Yeah, Eric mentioned someone called Santa and Urinesailor.”

Imryll bursts out cackling, spraying some of Unequivocal Sexual Victory at Zola, who moves her body in time to dodge most of it. She doesn’t want to know what could be in that drink.

Once Imryll settles back down, she continues, “Oh, my dear Zola. Yes, I’m aware. Half the Court is aware of their ongoing feud. But what I’m really interested in is what they’ve been up to? Eric’s a vegetable now?”

“Um… Dr. Killian is incapable of being forthcoming but Eric said Urinesailor messed with his mirror and now Eric is trapped in his own mind, and-and fractured. The doctor hired us”—she gestures at the other four adventurers in the bar—“to put pieces of Eric back together in the mirror, but we couldn’t get all of him. I think he said the logical part of him is still stuck in there. So now Eric is…unresponsive.”

“Yes, Killian is an interesting one to talk to… Really, you’re best talking to the boy but his being stuck inside a mirror, I suppose, would limit how helpful he could be. But back to the mirror, you all”—gestures around the room—“went inside? What was it like?”

“It was awful, my lady. Everyone was changed, somehow? I felt really old which, as an elf, I should never feel! I also felt smarter which, as myself, I should never feel, really.”

Imryll cocks an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t belittle yourself Zola. Not everyone is made the same. I’m sure you have your own…talents.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re very good with those twin toothpicks of yours.”

Zola jumps and lets out a little shriek as Jaezred has appeared sitting next to her, chin propped up on a palm, without having made any sound. There was no flourish of sparkles accompanying his entrance like Imryll’s did; it was like a shadow passed over the previously empty chair and the drow lord materialised from the darkness somehow.

“Now, now, darling, play nice,” says Imryll. “She has just been with Killian, after all…”

“Oh my, is that Unequivocal Sexual Victory?” he asks as he reaches a hand out to her glass. She smiles as she passes over the glass to him, but keeps her eyes on Zola. “Mmm. Tastes like you!”

“Naturally!”

Zola, getting over her second near-heart attack today, clears her throat loudly. “My lord! It’s…good to see you again. Umm… Yes! Where was I again?”

“You were telling me about your trip into Killian’s mirror, dear.”

“Oh, yes. Well, it was just chaotic. Wild magic flying around every time we do anything remotely magical. I don’t understand how the mirror works, though. I think it was like a demiplane but also Eric’s mind?” She scratches her head.

“Every time Gourcuff or Addington does something stupid, it’s always the boy who suffers,” remarks Jaezred.

“Don’t forget Urinesailor, dear… He and the boy have each chosen their sides, for better or worse.”

He bursts out laughing at the name, also spraying a little bit of Unequivocal Sexual Victory. Zola, once again, deftly dodges most of it.

Imryll turns back to Zola. “And you said his logical mind is still within the mirror? Do you know if there are plans to do anything about that?”

Zola hems as she wipes drops of horny juice off the back of hand with a handkerchief. “Well, Dr. Killian said he plans to get the final piece of Eric back. But he also waited two days before hiring us. He can’t even be bothered to remember Eric’s name, so I doubt it’s on his priority list… I think Carnán over there wants to do something about it… Well, I’m just a little worried, is all. Killian was trying to fix the mirror or something earlier and he said what he was doing could have melted the whole Mountain Palace! I think someone should really put a stop to the mess down there.”

She pauses to take a breath and a gulp of Punching Someone Really Annoying In The Face. It’s the most satisfying thing she’s had in months.

“Trust me, Zola, things are already being done,” Imryll assures her. “Our Queen has been very particular in placing those two where they are. As for Killian, bizarre as he is, I’d be inclined to believe him if he says it is his priority. His methods are unorthodox and, if we are being honest, quite frankly, bizarre. But I don’t believe he even has the patience to consider lying, let alone the social aptitude to do so with any degree of skill. How’s the drink, dear?”

“Good. It’s very good,” the young drow says, nodding and smacking her lips a little.

“Really now? The Queen purposefully put those two next to each other, knowing what they’d do?” Jaezred chimes in with a quirked eyebrow, putting the cocktail glass down.

“Of course. Did you not notice it? The palace has many doors along its winding corridors, but those two ‘shops’ are all alone down there. No neighbours to endanger and each other to keep themselves in check. Xantha is a power-mad hag with delusions of grandeur and with anyone else, it won’t take her long to overcome their senses and have her way, spreading her little domain down there. Killian, meanwhile, is an absurd genius who very well might actually blow half the plane out of existence by accident if he wasn’t constantly being hampered by someone he has been forbidden from simply doing away with. It really is quite a delicate balance our Queen has put into place down there…” Imryll picks her drink back up and sips from it.

Jaezred rubs his chin thoughtfully as he listens to his lover speak, a look of understanding dawning on his face. Zola, however, is not too convinced. “So…everything is how it should be?” she asks, still rather doubtful. The constant endangerment of young Eric is not giving her much confidence in this solution.

“Insofar as it can be, I suppose. I would wager that’s why the Court has intervened and provided funding.” Imryll gestures to the bag of assorted gems, gold, trinkets, and rubbish sitting between the other adventurers as they drink. “Otherwise, she would simply let Killian and Xantha play their own little games. Eric must be an important part of the puzzle in some way we don’t understand. And well, I’m not in the business of questioning our Queen.”

“A contained chaos. It is simply misfortune for the adventurers who get dragged into it from time to time,” Jaezred observes. “Well, Eric seems content on being the sacrificial lamb for whatever twisted reason, but we must hope that Old Man Carnán over there does not destroy this delicate ecosystem by offing Killian.”

“I would be more concerned about Carnán if he tried, personally.”

“Well, he did get transformed into a lemon when he tried to dispel a ward on Killian…” Zola adds.

Jaezred laughs. “He got turned into a what now?”

“Yeeeaaah… He didn’t seem too happy about that. He didn’t say another word, but if looks could kill…” Zola shivers.

Imryll chuckles too. “See? Killian may be a pain to talk to, but I wouldn’t doubt his capabilities.”

Zola looks between the two older courtiers, and seeing how relaxed they are about the whole messy debacle, nods, feeling a tad bit more settled than before. “Well then, that’s all I have to say about that. Unless your ladyship and your lordship have more questions?”

“I do actually — what was this mirror, exactly? You said it was the boy’s mind, correct?” says Imryll. “What was it like in there? For a normal boy his age, I’d imagine there would be all sorts of sordid little fantasies playing out, but what was in his?” Her face takes on that scandalous smirk again, clearly sniffing around for something to gossip about. Jaezred leans in closer to hear the answer, his lips curling into a similar grin.

“I don’t know what the others saw, but I went into a room with four different Erics, three of them screaming constantly and one of them, er…dead on the floor. I had to solve their problems for them. One of the screaming ones was an impostor? I don’t know, it was weird.”

Jaezred leans back in his chair with his arms folded. “Oh, of course,” he says, looking and sounding disappointed. “The boy is too neurotic to be a pervert.”

“Shame… Still, sounds like an interesting little adventure for you, nonetheless. If Eric is still incapacitated, though, we should keep an eye on things, just until it’s sorted out, anyway.” Imryll downs the last of her drink. “Well, this has been an unexpected delight, Zola. You really should reach out a little more often, though, I’m sure you have so many layers I’ve yet to peel off… And before you go, you really should try one of these.” She gently slides the now-empty glass of Unequivocal Sexual Victory over towards Zola. “Everyone should, at least once.”

Zola gives Imryll a shy smile. “Oh… Thank you, my lady. I’ll be sure to reach out more often.”

Meanwhile, Jaezred is fixing Imryll with a lascivious gaze. “Well, the cocktail is good and all…” he says, “but I much prefer the real thing.”

He jumps up from his chair and goes to scoop Imryll up into his arms, who squeals and giggles excitedly. “Take care now!” he says cheerfully to Zola. Imryll winks at her and snaps her fingers, and just like that, the couple disappears in a puff of smoke.

Alone at the table now, Zola is left staring at the empty glass for a long moment. The tavern is far from quiet, and yet, for some reason, there is a faint ringing sound in her ears. She shifts in her seat as a new, uncomfortable feeling rises up in her throat. She only recognises what it is when she tries to keep the bile down in her stomach: envy.

The space between her and the people around her seem to stretch out, farther and farther and farther. It feels so lonely there.

Eventually, the alcohol from her first cocktail gets to her head. She picks up the empty glass, goes to the bar, and slams it down on the wooden countertop. The bartender turns around to regard her with a questioning look.

“One Unequivocal Sexual Victory, please and thank you.”