After the intensity of her music lesson, Ali barely had time to collect herself before heading to her light-weaving session with Twilight-Stars-Dancing. The summer air seemed charged with unspoken tensions as she made her way through the winding corridors of the Summer Court.
The light-weaving chamber was a circular room with high, arched windows that caught and scattered sunlight in mesmerizing patterns. Twilight-Stars-Dancing waited in the center, his dark blue hair seeming to capture and hold traces of starlight even in the bright day.
"You caused quite a stir this morning," he said by way of greeting. His tone was light, but his eyes held a seriousness that made Ali pause.
"I didn't mean to," she replied carefully, remembering her mother's advice about speaking with the fae.
"Intentions matter less than outcomes in the fae courts," he said. "But come—let's see how you handle the subtleties of light."
He raised his hands, and the sunlight in the room began to dance, forming intricate patterns in the air. "Light-weaving is about understanding the nature of illumination and shadow. Every beam of light casts a shadow, just as every action in the courts has its consequence."
Ali watched as he demonstrated, his fingers moving with precise grace as he shaped the light into various forms—birds that flew around the room, flowers that bloomed and faded, and finally, a perfect replica of the Summer Court in miniature.
"Your turn," he said, allowing his creation to dissolve. "Show me what you see when you look at light."
Ali raised her hands hesitantly, remembering the way the light had responded during yesterday's brief lesson. The sunbeams seemed to quiver in anticipation, awaiting her direction. She thought of the morning's music, of the way the harmonies had woven together, and tried to apply that same principle to the light.
To her surprise, the sunlight responded eagerly, perhaps too eagerly. The beams twisted and braided together, forming shapes that reflected her thoughts—the frost patterns she'd seen on her window, the competing melodies of the Night Songs, the watchful eyes of the Queen.
"Interesting," Twilight-Stars-Dancing murmured, studying the images she created. "You bring winter's touch to summer's light. That's... unusual."
Ali quickly tried to adjust her weaving, focusing instead on warmer images—summer flowers, golden afternoons, the dance of fireflies at dusk. But there was still something cool about the quality of light she produced, like sunshine seen through ice.
"Don't fight it," her instructor advised. "The light responds to truth, not what we wish to be true. Your weaving reveals something important about your nature."
"What does it reveal?" Ali asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
Twilight-Stars-Dancing's expression became thoughtful. "That remains to be seen. But watch—let me show you how light can be used to communicate."
He stepped forward, his hands moving in complex patterns. The light in the room shifted, forming symbols that Ali recognized from the Night Songs. "Light-writing," he explained. "A more subtle form of communication than music, but just as significant in the courts."
Ali watched as he demonstrated different symbols, each carrying its own meaning. Some spoke of alliances and treaties, others of warnings and promises. The light seemed to hold the weight of these intentions, glowing brighter or dimmer according to their significance.
"Now," he said, "try to copy this symbol." His fingers traced a pattern that made the light form a complex knot, representing harmony between opposing forces.
Ali attempted to recreate the symbol, but as she did, the light seemed to fracture, creating unexpected patterns of frost and crystal in the air. Twilight-Stars-Dancing watched with increasing interest as her weaving took on its own unique character.
"You're not simply copying the light," he observed. "You're transforming it. The question is—why?"
Before Ali could respond, a shadow passed across the windows. They both looked up to see dark clouds gathering in the previously clear summer sky. The quality of light in the room changed dramatically, taking on an ominous cast.
"That's not natural," Twilight-Stars-Dancing muttered, his hands moving quickly to gather the light they'd been working with. "The Summer Court doesn't tolerate such weather without the Queen's permission."
Ali felt a chill run down her spine as she remembered Iron-Whispers-In-Darkness's winter song from the night before. The clouds outside seemed to echo that cold melody, bringing a hint of frost to the windows.
"Perhaps we should end today's lesson early," Twilight-Stars-Dancing suggested, though his tone made it clear this was more than a suggestion. "But first—" His hands moved swiftly, weaving light into a small pendant that he pressed into Ali's palm. "Keep this with you. It may prove useful."
The pendant was warm to the touch and seemed to pulse gently with contained light. Ali slipped it into her pocket, noting how it resonated slightly with her silver bracelet.
As she left the light-weaving chamber, Ali noticed more fae gathering in small groups, their voices hushed but urgent. The unexpected weather seemed to have disturbed the usual rhythms of the Summer Court. Even the ever-present floral scent that permeated the corridors had taken on a sharper, more austere note.
She was halfway back to her quarters when she literally ran into Nightshade-Among-Stars, who seemed to materialize from the shadows of a doorway. His star-filled hair was more turbulent than usual, suggesting agitation.
"Careful, little tribute," he said, steadying her with a hand that felt surprisingly cool. "These are not times for wandering alone."
"I was just heading back to my room," Ali explained, trying to step around him.
"Were you?" His expression was unreadable. "Or were you following the frost's whispers?"
Ali froze. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" He studied her face intently. "Your light-weaving tells a different story. As does your music." He glanced at the darkening sky. "Changes are coming to the Summer Court, whether we will them or not. The question is—where will you stand when they arrive?"
Before Ali could formulate a response that wouldn't risk offense, another voice cut through the tension. "Brother." Twilight-Stars-Dancing had appeared behind them, his presence dispelling some of the shadows that seemed to gather around his sibling. "Our presence is required elsewhere."
Nightshade-Among-Stars inclined his head slightly to Ali before turning away. As the brothers departed, Ali caught fragments of their whispered conversation: "winter's reach" again, and something about "the Queen's concern."
When she finally reached her quarters, Sage was already there, looking worried. "Have you seen outside? This isn't right—mother told me the Summer Court hasn't seen such weather in centuries."
Ali touched the light pendant in her pocket, feeling its reassuring warmth. "Something's happening," she agreed. "But I don't think we're supposed to know what."
As if in response to her words, a distant roll of thunder echoed through the court, carrying with it the faintest strain of winter's music. The sound made the light pendant pulse more strongly, as if in warning.
"We should prepare for dinner," Sage said, clearly trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. "They'll expect us to behave as if nothing is amiss."
Ali nodded, but as she changed into evening attire, she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was shifting, like light refracting through ice. The Summer Court's eternal warmth seemed suddenly fragile, and she wondered what role she would play in the changes to come.
The light pendant in her pocket hummed softly, a counterpoint to the distant thunder, as if it held secrets of its own that were not yet ready to be revealed.