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As yet another shriek came from the bottom floor of the Thistlespring tree, Ayda found herself relieved to be away from the heart of the noise. She had previously been at the crossroads of a cavalcade of conversations, not quite in any single one, and all of which distracted her from the others. Though she was glad they were indulging in the merriment of the holiday, it was… a bit much on her senses. She had excused herself, and escaped to the restroom on the next floor. Not perfectly soundproof, but a place where she could refresh herself.
She leaned against the door of the darkened space, letting out a deep exhale. When she opened her eyes once again, she was greeted to the low, familiar light of her own glow, and in it she noticed a figure curled in on herself in the bathtub. It was then that she heard, under the distant hollers, Adaine’s voice mumbling quietly.
“I forgot…. I forgot to lock the door… oh fuck…. I forgot to…” she repeated quietly.
Slowly, Ayda approached. Then, when Adaine didn’t immediately flinch away, she moved backward slightly and flipped the lock, before continuing her approach.
Ayda stepped into the tub, across from her. She sank down, curling her wings around her body and getting as comfortable as was possible in half of a bathtub designed for gnomes.
It was for moments like this that she was grateful that Jawbone had taught her of her disability, for if she had never learned that she had autism, she may have never learned of adaptive magic styles. It was much easier for her to communicate through magic than through speaking at times. In place of a verbal component, she tapped her fingers on the porcelain a few times, making sure they made a sizable dink sound. Then, she pointed at Adaine, sending her a message.
‘I believe our predicaments, though not the same, are similar.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, to think I didn’t appreciate being invited.’
Ayda frowned. She sent another, ‘I understand. I appreciate being included, but it can be very difficult for me.’
Adaine sniffled. ‘I just… everybody thinks I’m better, because of the medicine. And for the most part, I do feel better. But… sometimes the pressure of needing to be better builds up. I feel like it’s expected of me to be fixed by now, able to just enjoy living.’
‘Nobody thinks less of you for your disability,’ Ayda reassures. ‘And if they do you can very easily kill them with magic.’
Adaine lets out a small laugh, though Ayda was not joking. Adaine was a very powerful wizard. ‘That’s a bit extreme…’
‘Very well. You can severely injure any ableists with magic.’ Ayda conceded. ‘Regardless, our friends are not ableists, so you will not have to unleash your spells upon them.’
‘Logically, I know that… or, well, I think I do, but… it’s so aggravating, because it’s not logical.’ Adaine buried her head in her palms. ‘My feelings just… won’t listen to reason.’
Ayda took a moment to think about what she would say before her next response. ‘Very few things in this world seem to operate on logic, and that is incredibly frustrating.’ She eventually decided upon. ‘It is very difficult for someone such as myself to appreciate the nuances of that irrationality. This is because of my condition, which in and of itself can seem unreasonable to others. Yet, even still, there is a logical explanation for it; it is genetic in nature, my physiology and brain chemistry.” She pauses, choosing her phrasing again. ‘It is in what we are composed of, in the fabric of our beings, where we find the meanings behind these things.’
Adaine sat there quietly for a few moments, her sniffles decreasing in quantity. Finally, Ayda heard, ‘I just don’t want this to be all that I am.’
Ayda shook her head. ‘Then I have good news; you have already greatly succeeded in that regard.’
Adaine leaned her head on her knees, looking at the bathroom wall. In the corner of her lips, there was a small smile. “Because I’m such a powerful wizard?” She asked, aloud.
Ayda could still not speak verbally, so she responded in message, ‘Among many other things.’
They sat quietly in the low light of Ayda’s fire for many moments more, both tired from the night. Slowly, Ayda felt the agitation drain from her body. She probably could head back to the party for an hour or two, if she so desired.
And maybe she would, eventually. For now, though, all she wanted was to stay here, in the quiet dark, in the company of her best friend.