002. altima from the ikria of the theatron.

“Themis. You desired to see me?”

the peripatos marked your descent from the greater city of amaurot, but you would not have known had they not addressed you. you glimpse them even across two flights of ikria, their mask protruding from the frame of the stage; their hood, black as a night bereft of stars, blends with the curtains they grasp onto. the red mask resembles half a comedy mask: its cheeks are raised and meld the eyes in a half-moon shape, and the thin strokes of white over its curve arch the same way. your eyes cannot magnify the expression on its face, but you imagine that altima feels that way at your presence. you hope it does, anyway, or you have quite the challenge ahead of you.

you grasp the railway and walk forward, descending the stone steps. you have to stop yourself from marveling at the empty theatre all the while and abandoning your composure, forcing your gaze towards altima as you approach it. it looms like a spectre on the wall, a wisp atop the stage panel, even as you approach: so thin and tall you would not notice it before it towered over you. “I did.” you choke the rails in your hands, proceed down the auditorium in brisker steps, and coat your voice in steel. “And you likely know the reason why, yes?

altima’s mouth moves. you still are not sure if it forms a grin. “I do, I do.” it steps out from the frame and reaches its hands to you, revealed by draping sleeves. you note that its robe appears two sizes too large for it and is secured only through aetheric fastenings, but you opt not to address it. the best reasoning you can offer is it might be a stylistic choice; an artful rebuke of public authority. and you would do better than address misbehavior from a convocation member, especially to their face, so you let it continue. “You are here to entreat me for the opening of my coworker’s position. Deudalaphon has said much and more about you, so we could say I am quite informed already.”

“Please—” they add, and you tense up. they chuckle. “Take that not as an offense. ‘Tis a compliment, really: I have never heard that woman speak so at length in my life! He tells such lofty stories when he puts his mind to it, but he never does. But how he detailed your discerning eye for Peirene…” altima lifts its arms and spins, its sleeves bunched by its shoulders, before bringing them close to its heart. “Ah, how her stories drive me to weep. I look forward to when Peirene is erected before the theatre; the waters shall bless us as they have for Anyder, and our poets and players shall find inspiration in the waters’ flow. That is to say: you have already done much for my work in these trials. Relax your bone-white hand, soften the crease of your lips, and grant me idle company upstage. Know you have naught to fear for my trial, and I bear no motive to lie.”

you release the bar and knit your hands behind the small of your back. altima laughs heartily and beckons you forward before mimicking the position of your hands. “Come, come! The audience awaits you and I. And one should never keep them waiting.”

altima, you admit, is an enigma, the same way that azem is. perhaps that is how they came to be friends. altima patronizes the arts and azem the people; one needs not school themselves to find the connection. and altima so easily busies by the divertissements of its people that you hardly see them outside their craft, let alone their own office. when you delivered your letter, the office was empty: a dark, quiet thing that collected dust despite the seat’s activity. you assumed at first they were out of the city and would give delayed response before you found a letter in cursive, stamped and sent in pristine condition the next day.

you take the stairs up the stage: the long way around. altima shifts weight between their feet, toes pointed as they roll through one shoe and the other, before they opt to balance on one leg, their other shoe curled behind their grounded ankle. “As you know, I, following the rest of the Convocation, shall only adhere to the jurisdiction of one who we trust most. As much as and more than our present coworkers; to an extent equal to that of our current Emissary. This time, we have opted to assess the worth of her successor as individuals; and that is why you have appeared before me today. And so I ask—”

it holds its breath. you hold yours, too, like water seeping through your grasp.

“Have you ever stood on a stage before?”

you blink. “Um—” the water falls through the center. you shove your hands behind your back again. “Yes, I have. Several times.”

“And what was it for?” they grin. you keep eye contact and shiver.

“Many things,” you start, hesitating. “The headmaster of Akadaemia Anyder has asked me to give speeches for my year, at times.”

“Have you ever performed?”

you pause. you stand a little straighter, look up a little higher, and offer a wry smile. “Do you mean in a theatrical sense or in a general sense?”

“Ay, there’s the rub.” they lift their hands, their palms both emptied. “Trust that I shall always mean the former, but in a test such as this, I left room to interpret both.”

that at least makes you laugh, lets your shoulders fall slack. “Then often, or almost always. There are many things expected of me from this star, and I cannot accomplish each by the same face. In that manner, I would be performing, regardless of whether or not I took physical stage.” you take the chance then, glancing at altima’s robe, and unmask yourself, piercing their mask by your own cold gaze. “I layer lies atop the simplest of deceits: that none, by custom, know my face behind this mask. But then—one should say that we are all performers in our own rights; and I suppose then that this city is a greater stage.” you match their grin, masking the tremor of your hands. “Does that answer suffice?”

altima stares back; the birds are its voice and music, and they, too, stay silent, heads pulled forward and ears perked up. then, a gust of aether blows by, carrying their hood and their hair away. they lift their mask and hang it by their drawstrings; then they clap. then the birds sing. if they had hands for wings, then maybe they’d clap over caw, too.

“It does. Oh, it does, dear Themis. How did you manage to improvise all that?”

“Ah—” you falter and find yourself bowing your head. your hair falls over your face and you move the thin white bangs away. “I’ve just had practice. So many performances seem to do that to a person.”

“That they do.” altima grins. it reaches their eyes and forms four half-moons. “And your conviction is hardly wavering. At least, it persists when most necessary; some time in that seat should do your weakest moments some good. But you have what one needs to start.”

you refrain from immediately stuttering. “I’m relieved you think so, Altima.”

“‘Tis my pleasure to. It heartens me to know those who succeed us are as passionate as we are for our craft, even in such a metaphoric sense.” they pause to place their mask on again; then, they lift their head, still grinning down to you. “But then, that represents my duty best, doesn’t it? Not the plainchant rhetoric that Igeyorhm adores.”

“You make a good point,” you nod. “Well… I do not mean to interrupt, but—was there aught else you required for your test? Not that I am in a rush to depart, I promise.”

“…Ah—well,” altima hums, then sits down at the edge of the stage. a book summons to a lifted hand while they pat the other at their side. “If you are truly in no rush, then I would have one last request.”

you cannot stop yourself from following, nodding in turn. you move to put your mask back on once you have adjusted, but altima stops you with its free hand. “Recite a scene with me, Themis; I do so miss the performing days. I would see how you perform as you are: no mask and no ill deceit. Then my trial shall be done.”

public defiance yet again. but you have come so far already, and here, you cannot lie: you want this role more than anything. so you toss the mask away and thumb the page.

“Good. Good.” altima grins. “Now, let’s have the play begin.”