Chapter Text
Given that myth and legend seemed to be the primary influence, albeit with a somewhat modern focus, behind most of the interactions Alexandria experienced recently she really wasn’t that surprised that the rite of observance was tied in with hospitality.
The Accords were obviously an agreement for good conduct, and hospitality seemed likewise ritualized because even while in the midst of war the White Council was willing to allow total outsiders into their meeting.
Ancient Mai spoke again, her voice reedy, and the words seemed long recited, “As illuminated in the Unseelie Accords, you must make an oath to act in good faith, to convey nothing of what you hear and see within to other parties, and refrain from violence against all members and guests of this convention.”
Alexandria paused for a single imperceptible moment, careful to note whether there was a loophole within that statement. It was also curious that Unseelie would be tacked onto the Accords. Unseelie was a term for one of the faerie courts, in this context most likely Winter, regarded as unhappy or unholy in old Scottish legend. It also explained the repeated questioning on her nature, whether she was Sidhe or not? If the Unseelie had enough sway to get a large human organization, global in scale, to conform to their rules then their reach was vast indeed.
If the Unseelie were synonymous with Winter then Alexandria’s situation was improved, scant improvement as it was since the Queen of Winter owed her a debt. Of course, such a debt would almost be more valuable unspent if the Queen of Winter actually had that power, since the potential debt would almost be worth more in preventing people from acting against her. She had no doubt that Baines would spill all he could to his superiors when he returned.
“I swear to honor the Rite of Observance,” Alexandria replied, “as long as no hostile action is taken against me or mine.”
Technically, she was well aware that the pixie in her pocket would not be speaking any oath and thus was free to act. However, while the pixie had been a most useful travel companion, Alexandria still doubted her overall loyalty. Such was the nature of the world, always oriented toward mistrust.
Ancient Mai hummed, a little self-satisfied sound. Luccio, the Warden Captain let out a barely audible sigh, hand on the pommel of her sword. She looked irritated but also acknowledged Ancient Mai’s words.
“You may enter then,” Ancient Mai spoke, ancient rheumy eyes dissecting her appearance once again. Her eyes lingered on the old overcoat. Alexandria could tell by the slight tightening of Ancient Mai’s eyes that she might be offended by the ratty nature of the garment.
It would also partially explain the Council’s dismissal, not a disrespectful dismissal, but an underestimation. In fact, if she had arrived normally, by walking, it seemed a strong possibility that they may have sought to dismiss her in the entirety. Not for the last time, Alexandria whimsically wished for a good suit. One that was not made of light and fairy dust, thank you very much.
Alexandria could go the complete opposite direction and just strip the overcoat off, she could gain quite a bit of information based on their response. However, that approach had its own issues, mainly negotiations would be stilted, ultimately unsuitable.
Still, Ancient Mai’s hesitance and disapproval was a slight, and if there was anything Alexandria disliked it was people not taking her seriously. That was why she got rid of her California accent when she first made her forays into the greater political world.
However, casting illusions was a rather common skill here and it was also possible that proficiency in it was linked to competence, hence she couldn’t actually explain how her clothes were destroyed.
Alexandria gestured to herself, inclining her head, catching Ancient Mai’s eyes for a split moment before Ancient Mai looked away in a fluid gesture, breaking the eye contact before an ordinary human would even realize it had been made, “The ability to appear unremarkable is remarkably valuable, don’t you agree?”
Ancient Mai’s lips quirked upward, just the smallest expression on an otherwise placid face, “So it is.”
The woman that stood behind Ancient Mai’s eyes sharpened, Alexandria could tell that she knew that something had occurred, some kind of hidden communication but hadn’t noted what it was.
Luccio ‘hmmed,’ still watching them, slightly less wary than before, but her hand still clutched her sword. The Warden behind her, the blond man nodded at her quick look and stepped back into the building.
“The White Council would be most amiable if you consented to a brief evaluation,” Luccio mentioned, the words off-hand, but also holding a note of warning.
Alexandria turned slightly, to regard her again, understanding the demand for what it was, and slightly, ever so slightly, raised her eyebrow. Luccio did not meet her eye, instead focusing on the bridge of her nose, and finally, Alexandria nodded.
“I will consent, permitted it is not overly invasive,” Alexandria stipulated. After all, it would be foolish and a waste of her time to agree to a lengthy security check. Ancient Mai did not object, just watched with old, half-lidded eyes.
A moment later, just long enough that in an ordinary situation it would’ve become awkward, the blond man appeared again, stopping just shy of leaving the interior. He was accompanied by another Warden, grey cloak and red stole prominent over his black robe, who did not hesitate in stepping over the threshold of the door and into the obfuscated light of the clouded summer day. A glittering crystal pendant rested atop the new man’s breast. His hair was slightly curled and black, and his skin was dusky brown. Indian, or Pakistani, Alexandria guessed. The features were mixed, making it hard to pin down his nationality exactly.
He seemed more of a Thanda type than a Garama, the deep suspicious look to his eyes not lifting as his gaze flickered over the three outside. His sword was sheathed but the staff in his hand was poised, not quite held at the ready but not held easily either.
Ancient Mai stepped forward and past the man, who did not stop her, merely giving her a once-over, he did stop the younger woman that followed after Mai, lifting the crystal pendant, murmuring nonsense syllables before waving it over her body.
Alexandria’s sharp eyes noted the pattern, chakra points, starting with the Sahasrara at the crown of her head, then over the third eye, the Ajna, swiftly moving down the front of her body, stopping over the root chakra point, the Muladhara. At each point the crystal pulsed with soft yellow light, only shifting to a slight orange over the Svadhisthana chakra point over the pelvis. He paused for a moment as if thinking.
Alexandria remembered every single thing she had ever read, and chakra points were one of those things. In the early days of Cauldron, they had entertained the idea that powers connected in a more mystical way before their dissections revealed the presence of the aberrant growths necessary for the agents to attach.
Ancient Mai made a little noise, which might be irritation and the Warden nodded, stepping aside, and letting the younger girl enter the doorway, following after Ancient Mai. Ancient Mai, in turn, paused, seemingly waiting for Alexandria, who stepped forward.
She did not quite know what the ritual was, or the light, but it seemed to be a security measure which was unlikely to bring harm to her. Part of her was loath, of course, to give the White Council whatever information they were able to gain from their ritual but that seemed a small sacrifice compared to gaining access to the convention. After all, they had made no noise of dissent at her stipulation to the agreement.
The lines around the Indian Warden’s eyes narrowed as he looked her over, his eyes shifting over toward Luccio. Luccio, herself, had turned slightly, hand resting on her sword still. Luccio nodded, a stress line between her brows.
The Warden brought his crystal back to his staff, hovering it a moment over it, it flashed white and then he lifted it towards Alexandria’s head. It gleamed a friendly yellow as it passed over her crown chakra point. The next, the third eye, pulsed purple, a bright amethyst hue. The Warden paused, his hand still outstretched clutching the pendant. His eyes flickered to Luccio.
At some silent agreement he continued, but the rest glowed yellow all the way down her body. He hesitated at the end, hand starting to move upward as if he wanted to go over the whole thing again. Luccio made a gesture behind her, cloth shifting out of her view and then the Indian Warden nodded, albeit looking incredibly reluctant, and let her step through the door.
The blond Warden stepped closer and whispered to Ancient Mai, but Alexandria could clearly pick it up, “Sight check?”
Ancient Mai’s words were sharp and quick, most of the old croak gone as she whispered back harshly, barely audible, “No.”
The doorway was nothing special, nor was the interior of the building, a short hallway, lit by an actual candlestick candelabra with pillar candles glowing softly on top. The tiles on the floor were newly cleaned and featured not a single iota of dust or even scuff marks.
Alexandria’s feet did not touch the ground, instead, she floated forward, feet still hidden inside the overcoat, making it appear as if she was just sliding forward. A petty use of her power, and more practical illusion than actual substance but it also served to establish her as more than just human, which she suspected was valuable.
The younger woman that accompanied Ancient Mai hissed a word, an exclamation, almost under her breath. Immediately, Alexandria placed the accent, even if she did not personally know the translation. Wu dialect, from Shanghai, China.
“Silence, grand-daughter,” Ancient Mai replied, in the same language, the words whispered in response.
The spacious hallway opened into what looked like a presentation area, tables arrayed in front of a rather large raised dais. The room was about two-thirds full of what appeared to be humans. The rest of the room consisted of empty chairs and tables, mostly toward the front of the room.
A balding man, with a gaunt face, stood up there, speaking to a Warden in a grey cloak quietly, something like anger flickering in his eyes.
Two young men in brown robes were currently lifting a podium up onto the dais. They didn’t look winded despite having to carry the solid oak podium with an ornately carved Triskelion on it. Already two podiums of lesser, flimsier construction were set in place, near the place of the balding man.
Brown and black robes were dominant, with the plurality significantly erring toward black. All but the brown wore stoles, red, gold, and blue mixed together. A few grey cloaked men and women were positioned strategically around the room, including a portion of the room composed of people who did not share the same dress code.
Ancient Mai turned toward Alexandria, regarding her for a long moment, “A section has been set aside for the observers.”
Left unsaid was the dismissal and the subtle request that she join the other group of eclectic individuals. Alexandria let her eyes travel over them, before spanning back over the uniformly clad.
“So, this is the White Council,” Alexandria spoke out loud, drawing the attention of those nearest to her. A young teen, clad in a brown robe, looked up from his spot kneeling by the chair of a black-robed woman, who whispered a harsh rebuke which diverted his eyes away even as she gave Alexandria a once-over, eyes lingering on the overcoat before seeming to dismiss her.
Alexandria paid no heed, turning back toward Ancient Mai, “Very well, I will await the White Council’s declaration.”
Ancient Mai inclined her head in what might be a bow of dismissal or might’ve been an acceptance of Alexandria’s words.