When Fia told Astrid that it had already been ten days that they had been working together, the human mage could not quite believe it. Fia had fitted in seamlessly into Astrid’s life. Fia was polite, considerate, even when she was eccentric and answered in cryptic sentences. Fia never spent more than the allocated shopping budget. Fia always cooked, cleaned and did the dishes. Fia always picked up her dirty clothes, and Shesayne’s and Astrid’s, and brought everything to the laundry. Each morning, Shesayne and Astrid woke the smell of cooking breakfast and to the soft hum of the music sphere. For the first time since she had settled in the apartment, the living room was clean and liveable, the ice cabinet fully stocked, and the laundry basket never overflowing.
Astrid began to notice the little things. Fia was not vain, but liked it when Astrid complimented her appearance. She sought Astrid’s attention as much as she sought Shesayne’s friendship. It was if their roles had been pre-determined. Fia treated Shesayne like a confidante, while Astrid was more like her teacher or elder sister. Someone whom she held in awe and admiration. In her spare time, Fia leafed through the editions of the Gazetteer that Shesayne brought home from work. At first, it was more of an opportunity to discover the vast, cosmopolitan spread of life in Sigil. Then, Fia began to investigate the puzzles and problems page. When Astrid took her lunch break, Fia would eat quickly and settle on the couch with a few pages ripped from the Gazetteer, murmuring softly to herself, her fingers dancing on air. Then, she would take a piece of scrap wood, burn its tip, and scribe careful calculations on a piece of paper. When she had solved all of the mathematical and geometry puzzles, she would deposit the bundle of papers on Astrid’s worktable. Astrid would smile, compliment her and Fia would nod, grateful in the knowledge that she could not blush.
Astrid observed other things, too. She noticed the way Fia knelt by her side while she explained things. The way Fia leaned her head on the worktable and scrutinised each motion of Astrid’s fingers, followed each movement of the human woman’s lips. Fia learned quickly, almost frighteningly so. She clearly preferred Fire-Elemental magic, just as she had a few difficulties picking up some of the more intricate details of mainly mechanical artifacts, but her overall progress was stunning. Astrid found that, in very little time, she had almost doubled her work-rate.
So it was, one late morning, with some dim, cool light filtering through the oval kitchen window, that Astrid decided to take a quick break. She rose from the worktable and settled on the couch. Fia’s pillow and blanket were neatly folded at the opposite end. Fia followed, almost instinctively. The fire genasi padded soundlessly on the wooden floor and took a seat by Astrid’s side. Wordlessly, she huddled close to Astrid and lay her head in the human woman’s lap.
Astrid stroked Fia’s hair and stared through the window at the vast expanse of skeletal buildings before her. Fia never made it too evident, but she craved physical affection. Astrid had been hesitant at first, fearful of unnerving Fia or giving her the wrong impression. But one fateful day, she had complimented Fia on her work and the genasi girl had fallen into her arms, with quiet dignity, and Astrid could do nothing but hold her.
Astrid’s fingers traced the outline of Fia’s pointed ear. The coppery richness of the genasi girl’s skin gave way so naturally to bright golden, flame red and dark bronze tresses. Although she always dressed simply - white shift, blousy shorts without even a hint of jewellery or cosmetics, Astrid was convinced that there were few sights more beautiful in Sigil.
“Fia,” Astrid whispered, almost as if she were afraid of disrupting the connection between them.
“Hmm?” Fia hummed. She snuggled close to Astrid. Astrid smelled of mineral soap and machine oil. It was an oddly intoxicating combination.
“You never said much about yourself…your past, I mean. I can’t help but think that there’s this great blackness that you hide in your soul – something you don’t want to reveal.”
“If I don’t want to talk about it, perhaps there’s a reason, no?” Fia mused.
“What happened to your parents?”
“If you had a bastard child, would you keep her?”
“Yes, because she’d still be mine.”
“You’re a good person,” Fia murmured, “whoever conceived me and abandoned me wasn’t.”
“Sigil’s like that,” Astrid remarked sadly, “it’s cold and dark, but not always in a bad way. The darker the night, the brighter the light that burns, right?”
“My first memories,” Fia breathed, “are of cold place. Some people – some of the women, were nice to me. One of them was a healer, she helped me, taught me about the fire inside of me. Taught me to read and write, so I could one day learn words of power – magic. Then, one day, it was time for me to go. She said, ‘you are a woman now, Fia’, that was the name she gave me, ‘a woman makes her own way in the world’.”
“Hey, c’mon, don’t be so downcast about it, perhaps she knew you would end up in a better place.”
“Yeah, I guess she did. I owe her everything.”
“Fia…that’s a lovely name, though. She must have liked you, otherwise, she wouldn't have had such a pretty thought when she decided to name you.”
Fia smiled. “My name…ah, my name. It means ‘little flame’ in a human tongue.”
Astrid caressed Fia’s cheek. The girl’s skin was warm, almost as if she had a fever. “My little flame, then.”
“Your little flame?” Fia challenged.
“Yeah, you’ve made my long and, frankly, fucking boring workdays worthwhile. I don’t have to feel alone anymore when Shesayne is out of the house and, if you think about it, it’s a pretty impressive feat for anyone to make up for Shesayne’s absence.”
“So that makes me your little flame?” Fia pondered. Pinpricks ran down her spine each time Astrid’s fingernails brushed against the sensitive skin of her pointed ear.
“Of course, Shesayne was right – you really are the Match-Girl.”
“What?”
“Even on the darkest, coldest winter’s night, there’s always someone out there trying to light a fire.”
“Right,” Fia said, with a flush of satisfaction, “my fire.”
“Your fire belongs here, now.” Astrid said, not quite aware of the power her words would have on Fia’s mind. It was an invitation, a final, unconditional acceptance of what had formed between them. “I don’t ever want to see it leave.”
***
Fia felt awkward. Going out with Shesayne always meant being near the centre of attention. That unnerved her. Shesayne had chosen to take her out for a quick excursion, promising a steaming bath as a reward. That was Fia’s one weakness. So she followed the provocative half-elf through the thronging streets of a bourgeois ward of Sigil. It was cold, and a half-sleet, half-snow blanket of grey ice covered the cobbled streets. Market stalls smoked. Vendors sold steaming tea, hot wine, dark, dense liquid molasses and piquant soup. Fia felt her senses overwhelmed. She wanted to be anonymous and was perfectly comfortable in her shirt and breeches, melding in to the chattering crowds. Elves, half-elves, humans and beings which resembled upright mantises with artistically decorated chitin-shells and hulking, menacing reptilian brutes – they all merged into an endless sea of life.
Shesayne, though, managed to make a show of herself even in an overcoat. She skipped, joked, flirted and gossiped briefly with passing acquaintances, so that Fia began to be under the impression that Shesayne knew everyone in the city.
They made their way down a wide, commercial street, where some of the most renowned tailors in the city had set up shop. All manner of clothing, often cut from rare, exotic materials, was on display. Gossamer, silk, translucent and enchanted fabrics offered dizzying variety. Advertising displays had been set along the side of the street – brilliant, garish posters made of magical light that shifted and melded into one another. Snow crunched under Fia’s boots. It was time to ask the inevitable question.
“Shesayne, what are we actually doing here?”
“Oh, just little bit of fact-finding. Fen and me have another performance coming up soon, so I just thought I’d see whether this season’s offerings could offer me some ideas and inspiration.” Shesayne replied, a little distractedly. She was far too busy mentally building her new outfit.
“Another dress?” Surely the endless selection of bewildering clothing Shesayne kept in her wardrobe was more than enough. Especially since, as Fia understood it, Astrid was trying to economise.
“Why shouldn’t I treat myself?” Shesayne pouted. Her body was in perpetual motion as she intermittently swung around to address Fia, and then swept back in an entirely different direction to contemplate the shop windows.
“Astrid says you spend too much.”
“Sod it,” Shesayne groaned, “she’s gotten to you too? Y’know, Astrid used to be fancy-free and always fun to be around when I first met her, but ever since we moved in together, it’s been a whole different chant.”
“She only wants to make you happy,” Fia remarked.
“Relationship advice, huh?” Shesayne insinuated.
Fia fidgeted and shifted her eyes from Shesayne’s snide glance. “Sorry, just a thought.”
“You think far too much, now c’mon,” Shesayne seized Fia’s hand and dragged her through the crowd, “you have to be confident, give the impression you know where you’re going…like here,” she stopped before the entrance of a cavernous boutique, its exposition space housing a selection of glossy, pastel fabrics.
“We can’t afford this stuff!” Fia hissed quietly.
“I know, but it’s fun to pretend and act like we can. Now just follow my lead.”
Shesayne stepped inside the narrow entrance hall and prepared her sweetest smile and best bourgeois accent. Fia followed, stooping slightly so as not to draw attention to herself. She felt uncomfortable. The smell of polished wood and heaped fabrics was unfamiliar, menacing.
A middle-aged woman intercepted them. She was greying, bespectacled, clad in a long, ornate robe so that she very much resembled a wizard. Shesayne concluded that she was probably the head of her tailor’s guild. So she launched straight into her well-oiled trickster’s routine.
“Greetings, we could not help but notice your splendid cobalt blue…” Shesayne began.
The guildmistress cut her off with a stern, raised palm. “I am very sorry, dears, there is nothing for you here.”
“Sure, sure,” Shesayne resolved to laugh it off, “I get it, I’m pretty short, but you definitely have something for my friend here…”
“Frankly, dear,” the woman’s voice was a low, patronising monotone that reminded Shesayne of her branch director, “I think not. I imagine there are other places for those of your kind.”
Fia raised her gaze. Her eyes were smouldering. “What kind would that be?”
“Goodness, girl,” the guildmistress said impatiently, “you should know your place – we would rather not serve halfbreed urchins like –“
Fia flared her fingers open and a sheet of flame projected from the palm of her hand, dancing a foot in the air like a hypnotised serpent. “Like what?” Fia said, her voice low, dangerous.
Shesayne intervened, whipping around to thrust Fia out of the door before the situation went out of control. “Fia, no!” she cautioned sternly, even if she understood the genasi’s frustration. “It’s not worth it here, trust me, I know.”
“Out of here, both of you, this instant!” the woman cried, “Belphamon,” she called, and a hulking minotaur, his bovine head crowned with a heavy, golden chain, poked into the entrance corridor. “Please escort the ladies outside.”
The minotaur approached, his heavy leather uniform straining over his massive, bulky musculature. He bellowed and snorted, hooves tapping a threatening rhythm into the floorboards. Fia stood defiantly, a nimbus of fire spreading around her, shrouding her body in a silhouette of burning energy.
“Fia, please!” Shesayne begged. “Just let it go…it’s my fault, just let it go.”
At last, Fia gave way. She dispelled the fires that she had summoned, swept around and strode out of the emporium, Shesayne behind her. The minotaur followed them up to the door. Shesayne whipped around to cover their backs. The minotaur nodded and snorted again. For an instant, Shesayne saw a spark of something resembling sympathy in the bestial humanoid’s savage eyes.
Outside, Fia stared glumly at Shesayne, ashamed at her lapse in self-control. “I’m sorry.” Fia could tolerate most overt insults directed at her, but she would never allow Shesayne to be demeaned in her presence.
Shesayne simply embraced her and held her close for a long, pregnant moment. Fia’s heart beat madly in her chest. Shesayne realised that the situation could have turned into tragedy very quickly. There was no telling how Fia would deploy her fire in an adrenaline rush. But the girl had power, that much was certain. Even the minotaur had been frightened, as if he feared becoming roast beef at a flick of Fia’s fingers. “You just calm down, breathe and relax, all right, treasure?” Shesayne whispered. Her breath misted in the cold air. Fia kept her warm.
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