[ A/N: Keep an open mind for this Chapter. √∆•]
Incest was one of the most controversial topics in the Nine Realms. Either that of the Van Imperia royal family currently toppled from reign, or even to the plebeian commoner families trenching it out in the undercity self-governed by the gambling overlords. It was such scandal that never ceased from the mouth.
The situationship of a father bedding it out with his girl child after a drunken night, or a bar wench mum whose kiss of goodnight always turned into something else with her boy when his sailor father was away; these stories made for hot gossip and good punchline in night taverns.
However, only highborn families could bear the open weight of wedding siblings—just like a fortnight ago when news had reached the Corynthian isles that the Governess of the Republic of Rocasus had just put to bed. . .again. And this new boy child bore striking resemblance to her one and only twin brother.
Mikhail Romanov, the Rocasian heir prince still carried his head high when he walked the school halls. Such was the defense that nobility could buy.
If a commoner wife dared birth a child who shared the same eyes of her sibling, she'd risk being a pariah. But not so with Royals. In fact, it was of certain praise when the past King of Eldoria had sired a child with his first cousin: the child now the felled queen, Giselle Van Imperia.
By all of this history of their Empire was Nicara certain that her students will choose the option of a Play where taboo was featured. It made for more interesting scenes.
"Let me be clear," the Headmistress pronounced. "There will be no nudity, on or off set. And the lead cast who shall perform the roles of Oedipus, Laius, and Jocasta must be of no familial ties. I have given strict instruction to our Drama Club on this. The play shall be called, Of Sons And Mothers, and will feature in this same Hall five days hence."
Students were already whispering about what girl and what boy would be best for the lead Oedipus and infamous Jocasta. Dr. Nicara Shetty cleared her throat. "That will be all, students. Now off you go, you lot. Get to class."
Chairs rattled Magdalena's Hall in scraping noises as all young witches of the academy shuffled out, the variety of the mixed magical species causing a smile from Nicara who still stood on the podium. This was what the First Druids who had founded the institute wanted: a neutral place where every thing arcane could thrive.
The heads of the tall Amazons peaked higher than the rest as the pupils made their way out through the door.
Nicara adjusted her glasses and looked over the empty seats.
One fellow still remained on his chair.
"Israfel." She breathed.
As if conjured by her little moan, the young demon prince appeared in a blur at her side on stage, by an excellent use of quicksilver speed. He was a red flash across. Nicara sent a spying eye around the hall one more time before sneaking a kiss onto his lips. "I've missed you, Apollyon."
Rafel nodded. "Same, Luna."
He complimented her weretiger title.
Nicara led the way off the stage and through a small corridor exit out the side of the assembly hall. It opened onto a larger, resplendent archway that looked like it had been lifted off a castle's side. It was elegant and baroque. Nicara's red nails clicked together as she walked Rafel to his class.
The Headmistress seldom hid her claws. Since they were far from Titans Landing and the domicile of mundane mortals, she saw no use for it.
"Are you thinking of auditioning for the role of Oedipus?" she asked on their short stroll.
Rafel shook his head.
"Words, young man." Nicara coaxed. "I only like your broody self when we're having sex." Her voice dropped to a murmur on the last part. "So, are you?"
Rafel responded in a sure treble. "No, ma'am. I rather prefer to engage real taboo. And from what you said earlier in assembly, there's no guarantee of sex. You do know that few of the students haven't gotten over Professor Ivoria's nude showing at the Hunt. It wouldn't be bad to spare them a taste of ripeness once in a while."
Nicara turned to him. "For you, Israfel, I'll think about it."
The swimming—with alligators—bit.
Ten minutes later and the room was packed. And the red drawn curtains of the stage parted.
Swish!
The first group were a charismatic choir singing a medley of Valhallan folk music and ecclesiastical high worship. It sounded really good. And Rafel commanded Peitho to produce and store a recording of it in his [Gladorium] pocket, Realm of Song. Who knew when next he'd face a minotaur and need a sweet lullaby to faze the beast.
Rafel didn't particularly fancy the holy church, but damn! Their music was. . .heavenly.
The next group was a solo artist. A boy skilled in yodeling. And though the crowd roared in laughter to his sonorous, "Yodeleehee! Yodeleeheehee!" The boy sang his heart out. "He is probably from the boglands," Cora observed. And she was right.
From the river of Rocasus to Nokmaar, it's people were adamant on music.
Swiftly following this brave Yodeler was an Acapella group unsurprisingly boasting several members of the Pynks. In the lead, Erika Burgess herself. The boys in the room did clap and cheer, but were too busy staring for flare-outs of their high fashion skirts to do much else.
On and on the talents came. Beyond the flush magic streaming in the veins of each and every kid in the fancy theatre, the boys and girls who mounted the stage tonight did have much more than arcane energy within them. Rafel was pleased. It was a good show. No awards were given, but the young Talents did garner extra points for trying.
Finally, the big finale came on.
The red curtains were drawn again for about a minute and the lights in the theatre dimmed dramatically. An applause was rendered from the crowd. And the spotlight was made to beam down on the center of the stage as a student, clothed in a medieval buffoon wear rose from the floor.
His bulbous red nose grabbed giggles from the girls and Rafel smiled at the boy's puke-green hair.
"It's such a garish makeup. Magnificent!" Ravenna lauded in the booth.
This introducing buffoon hopped around a few times on stage, drawing more laughter when he twirled and square-danced to jaunty music in his polkadot skirts and elfish shoes. The music faded into the background. And the buffoon raised his hands in comedic gallore, enrapturing the crowd to lean in.
"Hear ye! Hear ye! I am the Jester of fallen times. The herald of wanton stories. Aye! I have heard of many deviant tales: of a lad who suckled on the udders of his favorite ewe.
. ."
PAAAHNN! A trombone made a noise of mockery and the crowd laughed.
". . .and a maiden who loved to grab the cock of her husband's horse and kneel under it. Perhaps, to shoe the animal."
PAAAHNN!
"Hahaha!" More laughter and cheering erupted.
"Oh my god." Rosa's eyes teared up behind Rafel. All in the theatre definitely knew that maiden was not grabbing the horse's cock to shoe the animal, or whatever. "What the fuck!" She giggled. "They're really good."
It got better.
"Lo, I present to you this even, a tale of such sorts!" The buffoon announced, hopping from end to end. "A story of forbidden love and faithful prophecy. I present to you, all the way from the faraway land of Thebes. I present the story of Oedipus. In this right tonight, 'ere shalt be called, OF SONS AND MOTHERS!"
The Jester raised his hands profoundly, shouting the last words and vanished in spoof of silver smoke. Clapping instantly went off from all corners of the theatre. In his shadowed booth, Rafel felt Ravenna's slim hand reach for his as the high red curtains parted and ushered in the first act of the Play.