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Post by ch00beh on Jan 10, 2016 2:11:14 GMT -5
The two suns of Aleta hung close together in a cloudless summer sky as a band of 30 marched down a broken cobblestone road. The regular crunch of boots on loose stone and scraping of rings on plates mixed with the pattering hoof beats of the ten riders traveling alongside the party. Spears pointed from their ranks to the empty sky. Birds didn't sing in these woods. At the head of the column rode two women on trihorns instead of horses. Their mounts had their horns shaped in the curled fashion of war beasts, not the splayed twisting forms used in shows, and the women wore polished steel rather than dyed cotton. Matriarch Vesta Irinio and her eldest daughter Priya were on the hunt, not out for pleasure. Priya awkwardly transferred her family's banner from her right hand to her left, managing to keep her balance while raising the banner's shaft over and around her mount's thick neck. She cradled the standard as she was taught to make the weight more bearable. Her mother had told her that her soldiers would not respect a leader who wouldn't carry their own crest. As such, Priya held the red falcon above her head with pride--and without complaint. They heard galloping around the bend before they saw the horsemen. Priya tensed as a rank of soldiers surged forward around herself and her mother, setting their pavises down and drawing crossbows. A second line of soldiers stood behind the bows and lowered spears between the shields. Two armed and armored men rounded the bend. They flew no banner, but Priya recognized her elder brother easily enough. "Stand down," Matriarch Irinio commanded. Her soldiers raised their spears and lowered their crossbows as the two men approached. The riders slowed their galloping horses to a canter then a trot, the beasts breathing heavily and braying restlesly from what must have been a hard ride. "Devo, Garland," the matriarch said to her son and to the captain of the guard, respectively. "Have you found anything?" Both men took their helmets off. Devo's black curls fell wetly across his forehead as he quickly bowed his head once to the current matriarch and once more to the future matriarch. "We saw smoke rising from the forest half a mile down and went in to investigate. It's the brigands, mother. A camp of about 50--more than we thought." "They didn't see you, yes?" "Aye. They have scouts watching the roads, but I reckon they're more concerned with the next caravan, not a couple scouts," Garland Hoss replied. "We were able to slip past to take a look at the camp. As far as we know, there was no alarm raised." "Good." The matriarch turned to her daughter. "Priya, assuming the element of surprise and 50 deserters and mercenaries, what course of action would you take?" Priya was not surprised by the question. She was 16 now; more than old enough to take over for Mother when the time came. This was not her first hunt, nor was this the first lesson Mother had taught her. "I need more information." Priya turned to her brother. "Devo, did you see how active the camp was? What kind of weapons and armor?" "Boiled leather, steel helms, and old pikes, mostly. We could see only five horses." Devo paused. "I could smell meat so I think they were eating the rest. The brigands are awake, but half were still tending to their breakfasts rather than their armor." Priya thought for a moment. "We should either attack now before they are prepared, or we need to go back then return with more soldiers." Priya glanced at her mother. The matriarch continued to stare expectantly at her daughter. "But," Priya continued, "if we turn back now, we may lose the brigands again until they've seized yet another caravan. The matriarch gave the faintest of nods. "Good. You have command, now." Priya resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at the men and women behind her. She did that exactly once before. The soldiers had the same looks of expectation, but they were waiting for orders, not answers. That former weighed heavier on Priya than the latter. Priya looked at the trees instead. Equal training, better arms, but fewer hands. But with more horses... Author's note: Trying to get a feel for some of the most ambiguous, generic characters I've ever created (the Irinio family) and also a feel for how to even tell Aleta stories again. Writing is hard don't do it
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 13, 2016 1:58:06 GMT -5
Decided not to change her name Priya turned her crossbow upside down and hooked the steel cord on her trihorn's topmost horn. She leaned her full weight, stirrup and all, into the weapon until she felt the cord lock into firing position. She frowned at the dead man ten yards ahead. A shaft of wood protruded from his back. Priya wondered if the man had a wife or children, or if he had a mother and father in some town somewhere. The thoughts were brief. The girl pushed them from her mind as she loaded another bolt. By law, they had given the criminal a chance to surrender. The dead man had abandoned his family when he came to these woods and abandoned them once again when he refused to put down his pike and tried to shout a warning. Priya had made sure he couldn't cry out a second time. Once finished with her weapon, Priya pulled her house's banner from the ground and held it high once more. Flanked by the matriarch and the captain, the girl kicked her trihorn forward through the woods again. Thirty foot soldiers marched wordlessly behind the trio, heavy boots crunching over dead leaves and broken twigs. It didn't take long for them to start smelling smoke and meat. Sooner still, they heard shouting and metal banging on metal. The troop came upon the outlaw camp in a small clearing. A large pavilion stood in the center surrounded by several smaller tents. Fires still burned and pots threatened to spill over from heat. This was no longer the brigands' main concern. Half the camp had barely managed to get their helmets on--at most, a handful had unsecured leather cuirasses over their bodies. A few opportunistic men and women had forgone their armor altogether and started off deeper into the woods with what treasures they could carry. "HALT!" Priya shouted. She planted the Irinio standard into the ground and pulled out her crossbow. Half the camp did as told while the rest kept outfitting themselves. Priya raised a hand and gestured forward. A rank of soldiers stepped forward and around the three riders and set down pavises. They pulled out crossbows. This seemed to draw the rest of the camp's attention. "Do not make--" the words caught in Priya's mouth. Her mother glared at her. A matriarch was never forced into actions by someone other than herself. Priya swallowed and spoke again. "I will not repeat myself." One of the brigands, who had managed to strap his cuirass on as well as drape mail over his shoulders looked at Priya and pointed his pike at her. "And who are you to ask us anything with less men than us?" Priya glared at the man then waved her crossbow at her family's banner. "Are you blind or just stupid? I--" "Priya." The matriarch didn't shout, but the tone of disappointment was enough to make Priya flinch. Matriarch Irinio turned to the brigand. "What my daughter, Matron Priya Irinio, no doubt meant to say was that you and your camp are lifting weapons against the Irinio family and our royal guard. In addition, we see that you are in possession of several wagons claimed stolen with deadly force by law abiding merchants. Both offenses, by decree of His Grand Majesty, Emperor Galanakis Byroed Hydor, third of his name, are punishable by death. Lay down your arms and we will consider granting mercy." Priya felt like like a flower past midsummer, wilting with the heat of each word, but at least her mother's speech had gotten every brigand's eyes fixed on them. The man on the ground momentarily dropped the point of his spear then gritted his teeth and raised the weapon again. Priya could see him mouthing a prayer or a curse through his unkempt beard. "Well, m'ladies, while getting eaten by heldyn seems like a mercy we'd all like partake in, it looks to me that a better thing to do with our time is to let the matriarch and her daughter walk away alive." There were some mutterings of approval behind the man. "And while we've been talking, the boys and girls have all sobered up and are starting to itch for some royal blood." More cheers this time. "Now looking around, it seems to me that we got twice the spears and twice the riders. And I think Vilirius is starting to wake up." Five riders rode up behind the man. Then, as if on cue, both flaps of the pavillion were pushed aside as a fourteen foot tall giant stepped out. Mail hung over his gaunt torso, but his trunk-like legs were covered in rusted plate which seemed to have been stitched together from various bits of scrap. The giant carried a dead tree in its thin arms. Priya's heart beat harder. How did Devo and Garland miss this? Retreat then coming back with more soldiers was starting to sound like the better option... "So you do not surrender?" The matriarch's words caught Priya by surprise, flinching her out of her reverie. The matriarch was walking her trihorn forward. She was taking command again. The brigands all chuckled, including a deep rumbling chortle from the giant. "Well, I'd ask you what your daughter asked me, but I think that would be rude, my lady." "Very well." The matriarch took out her crossbow and unceremoniously shot the brigand in the gut. There was supposed to be a hand signal to fire, but this was obviously the same message. Priya raised her crossbow and shot at one of the enemy riders as planned. Her bolt, and the bolts of her soldiers, struck two of the outlaws down and dehorsed a third. Priya was reloading when she heard someone on the other side yell "charge!" "Form up!" yelled Matriarch Irinio. Spears and shields obeyed and stepped up and around the matriarch. The mass of outlaws slowed at the pointed spears but then brought their own longer pikes to bear. Priya let out one more shot without bothering to see if it hit then picked up the Irinio banner and waved it side to side. She saw movement at the fare end of the clearing. They were charging horses, but they made no sound. At the head of the charge was Devo holding a burning scroll. He let the wind take it so he could pull out his sword. As the scroll fluttered away, the nine horses' thundering hooves could suddenly be heard. Many of the outlaws turned, confused, only to be struck from behind. Panic crawled through their ranks, and before they could gather themselves, Matriarch Irinio shouted, "Forward!" The matriarch opened her mouth to issue another command, but it was lost as a man dressed in Irinio red flew across the battlefield, launched by the giant. The right flank of spearmen were just trying to keep the giant occupied; they couldn't get close enough to attack any chinks in its armor. "Priya, Garland, take care of the giant." "Yes, Matriarch," they said as one. Priya planted the standard back down and loaded another bolt. Garland raised his spear and the two wheeled around toward the giant. Across the sea of fighting, Priya could see Devo bringing the cavalry in and out of the enemy flanks, hammering at their edges while the infantry pressed on. The last two enemy riders were nowhere to be seen, but three of Devo's were missing as well. Priya took her eyes off the main battle and focused on the giant. Vilirius. A common enough name for a giant, but more importantly, a name that Priya didn't associate with any particularly notable accomplishments. However, he was still giant, even if he was unheralded. The Hydorian empire was founded by giants, and humans had only taken the empire using the power of akaramancy. While Devo had used a scroll earlier, he was no trained akarmanacer--nor was anyone else in the troop. They would have to make do. Priya raised her crossbow and aimed it at the giant's head. She remembered words from her bowmaster about aiming on a galloping mount and pointed her weapon lower. She squeezed the trigger and felt her weapon shudder as it released its built up tension into the loaded bolt. The steel tipped projectile flew threw the air and pierced Vilirius' mail shirt, puncturing the giant's chest. Judging from the reaction--more anger than hurt--the bolt didn't puncture either of the giant's hearts. As Priya wheeled her trihorn out of Vilirius' reach, Garland galloped by and threw his spear. The weapon struck deep into the giant's belly, and as response, the giant slammed the ground where Garland had been not a second before, bellowing with rage. The giant grabbed the spear and wrenched it from his gut then threw it to the ground. Thick red blood dripped from the wound, but otherwise the giant didn't slow down. One of the foot soldiers, taking cue from her captain, hurled her spear before Priya could stop her. Without the added speed of a mount, the spear was able to break rings and draw blood but couldn't go through the giant's thick skin. The giant responded by batting the soldier away like a cat playing with yarn. Priya kicked her trihorn for another charge and let fly another bolt. it struck the giant in the chest near the first bolt. This time, however, blood poured out of the wound rather than merely dripping. Vilirius coughed and spat crimson. Priya gave a triumphant shout as she wheeled her trihorn around. That was definitely a heart shot. Now they only had to wait until the second heart failed to-- Priya's thoughts were interrupted by a sickening crunch and sideways lurch. The girl and her trihorn hit the ground hard, and a second series of cracks sounded as the beast fell on top of the girl's leg. Priya cried in pain and desperately tried to pull herself free from the trihorn. The beast had already gone into shock and wouldn't move. Priya suddenly found her helmet too stifling and tore it off. She tried to push herself out again, but every shove resulted in more unbearable pain. The girl's head was staring to feel fuzzier and lighter. She looked skyward and noticed a large shape block out the twin suns. It raised something over its head. Priya felt the ground rumble somewhere else. Everything went black.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 17, 2016 21:07:07 GMT -5
Priya jolted awake as the wooden boards beneath her shuddered upward then clattered back down. Pain shot through and up her right leg, and her head, as if in some unholy alliance forged by the Fringe above, threatened to burst as well. Priya squinted her eyes open then slammed them shut again as lights danced across her vision, then immediately regretted closing her eyes so tightly with the pressure in the front of her head. She groaned and raised her hands to her temples, gingerly massaging her scalp. The girl felt grit matting her hair to her skin. She suspected it was not just mud.
"Matron!" a woman very nearby said.
Priya groaned again, her brain feeling riper and riper. "Not so loud. Please."
"Oh! My sincerest apologies, m'lady."
With trepidation, Priya dared to open her eyes again. She was greeted by an orange sunset sky. Overhanging branches moved with purpose from the top of the girl's vision toward her feet. The wagon holding Priya hit another divot in the road but not as sharply as before. Priya thanked the gods for that small mercy.
The girl could hear her soldiers marching on either side of what she now saw was the injury wagon. Against one of the cart's sides sat the woman who had welcomed Priya to consciousness. Priya recognized her as the soldier who tried to spear the giant. The woman's left wrist was splinted with twigs and wrapped in rope. Her opposing arm was bound with scraps of cloth to her body, and her armor had been removed revealing bloody underclothes. The woman couldn't have been more than two years older than Priya; the bandage over her nose would be the soldier's first battle scar.
"What is your name?" Priya asked.
The woman paused for a moment. "Cecily. Cecily Carpenter, m'lady."
"I--" Priya caught herself before apologizing. Even if the woman had spoken a noble name, a matriarch did not apologize for her actions. "Thank you, Miss Carpenter. For your service... and your sacrifice."
Cecily chuckled, catching Priya off guard. Had she said something wrong again?
"M'lady, I was hit with a tree after doing something stupid. You were hit by a tree then used a 100 stone trihorn as a blanket after killing a giant. I should be thanking you for making a hopeless battle a victory."
Priya let herself smile, but the expression quickly faded as Cecily bowed her head and said, "Matriarch."
Priya slowly turned her head, partly out of soreness and partly because she didn't want to face her mother right now. She found her mother walking alongside the wagon. A gauntleted hand gripped the edge of the vehicle. The Matriarch had removed her helmet but still wore her dirtied armor.
"What have we learned today?"
"That giants are not to be trifled with?"
Matriarch Irinio did not humor the response. "What else?"
Priya closed her eyes. She was hoping her tongue in cheek response would tell her mother that she did not want to do this now. Never in her 16 years had that actually worked. "I don't know, Mother. I am not in the best state to answer."
Matriarch Irinio ignored the plea again. "You learned that you are not victorious until you are victorious. Do not celebrate until our enemies yield or lie in the dirt."
Priya felt anger rise within her. She tried to fight it down, but her state of fatigue and injury didn't help her. "I nearly died following your command and these are your first words to me after I wake up?"
Matriarch Irinio continued looking forward, but Priya could see her pursing her lips. "You are my heir so I will pretend you said 'Yes, Matriarch.'" The matriarch didn't wait for a response and made her way back to the front of the troop.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 23, 2016 2:31:24 GMT -5
Priya realized she had fallen asleep when she opened her eyes and the stars were twinkling above. The shading moon had risen over the horizon, though shadow had barely fallen over its top. The air had cooled, but not uncomfortably so. Priya blinked the sleep away and looked around, spotting Devo walking alongside the wagon. "Brother." "Sister." Devo gave Priya a small smile. "Do you know where we are?" "We're maybe an hour out from Irinios-Ma." Priya let out a sigh of relief. Besides a proper bed and a proper doctor, being back in the city meant Mother would have to tend to her standard affairs. Less time for her to accost Priya with tests. "You gave me a fright back there," Devo said. Priya looked aside and managed a smile. "What happened?" "The cavalry charged the giant. We managed to distract it until its heart stopped." "Were there losses?" Devo looked away. "Yes." Priya clenched her teeth and said nothing. A moment passed and she started to prop herself up. Devo put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're in no condition to get up." "The people saw their Matron leave; they have to see her come back," Priya responded. While she couldn't satisfy her mother's tests, silently appearing before her people was something Priya could do. Priya tried to shift into an upright position again, feeling the thick bindings around her leg. At least, she thought this was something she could do. Devo frowned at his squirming sister. "You cannot walk and you cannot ride with your leg as it is. Mother will be leading the column, anyway." "This isn't about Mother; this is for the people. And for me." "Your health will be announced once we're within the city walls." "It's one thing to hear news and another to see it." The words echoed in her head as if her mother were standing on the other side of the cart lecturing. Priya shook the thought from her head. "Devo, if you care for me, you'll stop arguing and just prop me up. I don't need to stand." Devo made another face and Priya just smiled. The grin quickly became a wince as the girl started to push herself up. Devo vaulted over the side of the wagon and stood beside Priya, helping her into a sitting position. Priya then managed to shimmy back to rest up against the wagon's wall. "How do I look, Brother?" "Well, there's more blood and dirt in your hair than black, and your cheek is more purple than a plum, but other than that, regal." Devo licked his finger and wiped dried mud from Priya's forehead. Priya slapped his hand away. "There," Devo said, "now you look like a Matron." "Cecily, give me your dagger so I can cut off my brother's hand," Priya said, holding out her hand. Cecily had been purposefully studying the scenery and flinched in surprise at her name being called. "I, um, m'lady, my hands are..." Devo chuckled. "Hold that, Miss." He gave his sister a friendly pat on the unbruised cheek then jumped back out of the wagon. "I'm sorry," Cecily said, "Matron, I--" "You can listen to my brother and forget that order." Priya smiled, but her eyes were drawn to the trail of men and women marching behind the wagon. All were on foot as the horses and trihorn were hauling the stolen merchant wagons. Priya counted five others in her wagon and another two dozen in Irinio red walking and holding torches. Her eyes then settled on a basket in the corner of the wagon. "Are those the ashes?" "Aye, m'lady," Cecily replied. Priya apologized silently then prayed their souls were weighed evenly. Both the royal soldiers and the brigands would be inside. It was not the living's place to judge the dead. At the back of the procession, Priya could see the two score or so brigands still alive trudging along, all tied together. The living could, however, judge the living. The column of troops marched on. The forest path led out through thinner woods and joined the main road near the Great Genavais River's shore. The sound of moving water mingled with the chirping crickets and marching boots, and the fresh moist river air replaced the forest must. The bumps and divots in the road became fewer as the road became better maintained. "Clear the way for the Matriarch!" Garland shouted. Priya craned her neck to find the captain of the guard, spear in hand, parting a path through the last trickle of people coming and going to the city for the day. Both bows and cheers came from the people as the column passed. As the trickle of traders and travellers became something resembling more of a crowd, shanties made from scavenged wood began to appear. Naked flames on haphazardly placed torches lit the area. Soon enough, the procession came upon Genavais Gate, portcullis raised but actively guarded. The guards raised their spears in salute and cheered a welcome. Those standing in front of the gates parted ways and immediately set about clearing the crowds gathering to see the return. Someone rang a bell in the tower overlooking the gate, signalling to everyone within earshot that the Matriarch and her guard were back. Priya heard more bustle. The guards posted to the southern gate but not on duty would be filing out of their barracks to continue clearing the way and to relieve the returning soldiers of their burdens. Priya saw many of the men and women in the column visibly slacken, looks of relief finally making it to their faces. The troop passed under the thick mortared limestone making up the Genavais Gate, officially entering the city. Priya smiled and waved at the people gathered. Among the cheers were gratitudes and praise. Fewer, but seemingly louder, were wails. As the troop marched on, Priya heard these cries from the column's tail. She held the easy smile on her face but never ignored the sound. While the horses would stay in service the entire way to the the Irinio Grand Keep, the weary soldiers would not. Garland signaled for the troop to stop, and in silent ceremony, the soldiers filed into the southern barracks for much deserved sleep. A dozen fresh, stoic footmen took their place around the royal family and the injury cart. The southern barracks housed a small clinic, but injuries in direct service to the city deserved the best available care. The group moved on, and soon they had passed the barracks and arrived at the end of the Genavais Bridge. Tightly packed houses had spilled over when the bridge was first built, and while many remained, a wide avenue had been carved through them years ago to make sure a procession like this could move as easily as possible. At this crossing, the Genavais River was three miles across, and thus it took the procession over an hour to get halfway across the bridge. Truenight was approaching, and the shading moon had almost passed into full shadow. Here, they stopped. Garland stepped up to the injury wagon, lit by the soft yellow glow of the akaram lamps dotting the bridge. He pursed his lips at Priya in something resembling a grim smile and took the basket of ashes. Matriarch Irinio moved toward the edge of the bridge, and Garland moved to her side. He handed her the ashes. Matriarch Irinio held the basket over the bridge's oak railing. "May the souls of the fallen weigh even, and may Cimryth accept these ashes into His embrace." The Matriarch turned the basket over, letting the fine gray powder fall into the cool wind, and eventually, into the water. "And if unworthy, may Rhodwyn give these souls a chance to find peace after the next life." Those in attendance bowed their heads, and some touched both hands over their eyes. Priya only watched the final flurries of ash drift below the bridge and out of sight. Eesh this is super raw.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 27, 2016 19:33:55 GMT -5
Truenight approached with the patter of children's footsteps over a symphony of frogs and crickets. A group of young lamplighters raced from light to light, pulling back the stones hanging off the bridge beneath each akaram lamp. Their laughter quieted to grinning whispers as they saw the matriarch's troop. Devo waved but otherwise ignored their pleas for coin, rattling off variations of "you'll be paid when you're done with all the lights" with an encouraging smile. It wasn't more than 30 seconds before the children gave up and ran back to the lamps.
As the shading moon shrank to a jagged sliver, night seemd to encroach on the procession. When they reached the end of the bridge, the second gate had already been opened well in advance. Guards stood at attention. Save for a single stray cat, the streets were empty. Not many wandered the worn streets of the old city at night. Priya was trying to subtly breath through her mouth while maintaining a stoic expression.
The procession took a right turn instead of heading straight to the inner city. At the end of this avenue, past rows of stilted wood and stepped brick buildings was the First Fort. In the breezy night air it loomed on its small hill. The high towers blazed with yellow akaram lights, each spire wide enough for a massive boulder to lazily drifty downward. One of Priya's first memories was standing on the highest of the five towers looking south and being able to see far enough to make out Sky's Reach. The fort had been made during the reign of the giants, the history books said, and it was hard to doubt their word.
A giant in Irinio red stood watch this night, and indeed the fort's main door looked normal next to him. He snapped to attention as the matriarch and the captain approached.
"At ease," Garland said. "Open the doors and call the doctor. We have five injured to bring in."
"Yes, sir," the giant said. His voice was like two boulders grinding together.
The giant pounded twice on the First Fort's doors. " The matriarch has injured," he bellowed.
From behind the door, Priya could hear a series of metallic clunks. The clunks became a ratcheting twist as both doors of the First Fort's doors started to swing outward. Before it was open all the way, the giant slipped inside. The procession waited patiently for a minute before ten soldiers, clearly woken from sleep, hurried outside with stretchers between them. They went to the injury wagon and began unloading their comrades.
Cecily had fallen asleep, but the commotion was enough to rouse her. Priya smiled at her.
"Thank you for your spear, and thank you for your company, Miss Carpenter."
"It... it was my pleasure, Matron."
"If you or the other injured need anything, you know where to find me."
Cecily just bowed her head. With the other four wounded taken in, the last pair of soldiers slid their stretcher onto the cart. One of them jumped in and asked Cecily to shimmy onto it. She did so then lied down. While not the size of a Honetai woman, Cecily was no small girl and the two soldiers grunted as they carried her into the fort.
Once the injured were inside, Garland called six of the current guard to bring in the twenty or so captured men and women. The captured, still tied together by the wrists, trudged into the fort with minimal fuss.
Garland turned to the matriarch. "My lady, may I take my leave?"
"You may. Thank you." Priya thought she caught a fleeting glance from her mother, but she blinked and the matriarch was staring intently at Garland.
Garland held his arms at his sides and bowed at the waist. He followed the prisoners through the massive doors and disappeared within. The giant checked for any new obstructions and shouted an all clear, then the doors began to ratchet closed again.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 28, 2016 22:39:10 GMT -5
Turns out the above wasn't really done! They made their way back down the avenue and toward the Grand Keep. Before long they arrived at the inner city's gate. It was as impressive as the old city's outer gate but had fewer guards in attendance. Its doors stood open as they usually did during the day. While the royal district's cobblestone side streets were as chaotic as in the old city, the buildings were all made with painted concrete or mortared stone. Above these one and two story homes stood several estates owned by other grand families and the city's elite. Higher still, the Irinio Grand Keep soared. Its three towers--Bencarlo, Damio, and Passo, named after the city's first Patriarchs--didn't reach as high as the First Fort's lowest towers, but in Priya's mind they were grander. The sight of silhouetted vines over white marble catching what it could before Truenight meant she was home. It also meant someone could fix her leg soon. Unlike the last two gates, the iron bars of the Damio tower were locked shut. A sentry above called out, but it took time for the portcullis to rise. The group proceeded inside, their path lit by yellow akaram lamps. Priya was expecting to part ways here so she could go to the keep's physician, but instead the troop came to a stop. Priya turned her head so she could see what caused this. Just behind the gate was her younger brother, Callo, passing a flame from hand to hand. A trail of smoke drifted with purpose from a seemingly unlit candle on the ground. A few fresh burn marks were on the walls. When the boy saw his family file in, he gently guided his flame back to the candle and picked it up. He waved enthusiastically with his other hand which had been meticulously painted with rust colored akaram lines. "Mama, Devo, Priya, you're finally back! Priya, why are you in the cart?" "Good evening, Callo," the matriarch said before Priya could get caught up in conversation. The matriarch's voice was soft. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" Callo looked to the side and made an obvious face. "I was but--" "Then where is Cayla?" Devo asked mockingly. "She's over there!" Callo quickly pointed to a spot behind the gate, safely out of sight. "I told you mama would be cross, you twit!" shouted a girl. "Language, Cayla," the matriarch said in the same voice with which she had reprimanded Priya earlier. "I am not angry, but I will be if you do not come out." The spitting image of Callo stepped out of a shadow, though she had longer, though equally bedridden, hair. Her icy blue Irinio eyes alternated glaring at Callo and staring at the ground. "Now what are you two doing here?" the matriarch asked. "So we was sleeping--" "Were sleeping," the matriarch said. Callo hesitated for a moment. "Sorry, Mama. We were sleeping but we heard the gate open a little bit ago and thought it was you but it was riders in the night. Cayla heard them, too." Cayla nodded. "That's right, Mama. We went to see what they would do, but Papa was there already and started talking to them and told the guards to stand outside his study." "Do you know where they came from?" the matriarch asked. "Not really," said Callo and Cayla at the same time. They looked at each other, then Callo took over. "But I think I saw green and gold under their cloaks." Those were Father's colors. Were they messengers from Patriarch Bella? "Guards, you are dismissed," Matriarch Irinio said without turning around. "Devo, take your sister to the doctor. Callo, Cayla, go back to bed." The matriarch didn't wait for anyone to get to it and headed straight for the keep's main door.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 29, 2016 14:28:00 GMT -5
this chapter just keeps going like gog damn Vesta strode purposefully through her halls. Her boots thudded on the red carpet laid over polished marble. Her clinking mail had felt heavy several hours ago, but she had no chance to take it off. Why hadn't Nico sent a runner as soon as his brother's men arrived? What was so important that Vicente would send word in the middle of the night?
Vesta was aware that Callo and Cayla were following her to Nico's study. She let them have their fun; they wouldn't be able to get into the study proper anyway. It wasn't too long ago that Priya was the same way. She was still a child, but oh how she had grown in the last few years. Devo, too. The twins, though, could stand to stay young for a while longer.
Five people with heavy cloaks draped over their shoulders were loitering outside NIco's study while two of the matriarch's own stood at attention. As Vesta approached, the cloaked men turned to her and all bowed.
"My lady. We are sorry to intrude on your beatufily home," said the lead man with a light accent. "Your husband and our master are waiting within."
Vesta merely nodded. One of her guards opened to the study's door for her. Vesta stepped through.
The room was lit from overhead by an akaram chandelier. Its yellow firecrystals were fixed to twisting bronze shapes, reminiscent of buck antlers. Directly beneath it, a polished river stone floated, ruddy akaram lines etched on almost every inch of it. The lines did not glow themselves, but when the eye settled on them, everything but the lines seemed blurry.
The light illuminated not just the many books and furnishings, but also the two men within. Nicollante Virense Irinio had put on a robe and had found a hair band to control his wild, graying hair. The other man, standing in front of a mirror and fiddling with something on his face, was dressed in a green doublet with gold trim. His mud flecked cloak hung by the door next to a scabbard inscribed with House Virense's circling carp.
"Nico," Vesta said, approaching her husband.
"Vesta." They embraced as they always did after a day spent apart.
Vesta let go and looked at the other man. "And we have here..."
The man turned from the mirror after having gotten the last of his false beard from his face. Though older than she remembered, the boy still had Vicente's sandy hair and spectacles for his bad eyes.
"Giovenzio?"
Patriarch Virense's son and heir smiled grimly.
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Post by ch00beh on May 28, 2016 10:08:28 GMT -5
I redid the last section. Also this is now the start of chapter 2. Vesta strode purposefully through her halls. Her boots thudded on the red carpet laid over polished marble tiles. Her clinking mail had felt heavy several hours ago, but she had no chance to take it off. Why hadn't Nico sent a runner as soon as his brother's men arrived? What was so important that Vicente would send word in the middle of the night? Vesta was aware that Callo and Cayla were following her to Nico's study. She let them have their fun; they wouldn't be able to get into the study proper anyway. It wasn't too long ago that Priya was the same way. She was still a child, but oh how she had grown in the last few years. Devo, too. The twins, though, could stand to stay young for a while longer. Five people with heavy cloaks draped over their shoulders were loitering outside NIco's study while two of the matriarch's own stood at attention. As Vesta approached, the cloaked men turned to her and all bowed. "My lady. We are sorry to intrude on your beautiful home," said the lead man with a light accent. "Your husband and our master are waiting within." Vesta merely nodded. One of her guards opened the study's door for her. Vesta stepped through. The room was lit from overhead by an akaram chandelier. Its yellow firecrystals were fixed to twisting brass shapes, reminiscent of a strong oak's meandering branches. Directly beneath it, a polished river stone floated, ruddy akaram lines etched on almost every inch of it. The lines did not glow themselves, but when the eye settled on them, everything but the lines seemed blurry. The light illuminated not just the many books and furnishings, but also the two men within. Nicollante Bella Irinio had put on a robe and had found a hair band to control his wild, graying hair. The other man, standing in front of a mirror and fiddling with a razor, was dressed in a green doublet with gold trim. His mud flecked cloak hung by the door next to a scabbarded sabre inscribed with House Bella's circling carp. "Nico," Vesta said, approaching her husband. "Vesta." They embraced as they always did after a day spent apart. Vesta let go and looked at the other man. "And we have here..." The man turned from the mirror after having shaved the last of his patchy beard from his face. Though older than she remembered, the boy still had Vicente's sandy hair and spectacles for his bad eyes. "Giovenzio?" Patriarch Bella's son and heir smiled lazily. Vesta was acutely aware of Giovenzio's sharp scent and bloodshot eyes. Entertainment she had approved, but the lack of decorum irked her. Vesta's eyes narrowed, but she remembered her guest. "Nephew... what an unexpected pleasure to receive you at this hour." "Auntie! The pleasure is all mine." Giovenzio grinned wider and spread his arms to off an embrace. Vesta did not reciprocate. Giovenzio let his arms droop but did not let them fall. "Erm..." Nico cleared his throat before a silence could rightfully take hold. "Vesta, Gio is coming back from securing a trade agreement with Eshtan-Ma." Giovenzio's awkward smile became a toothy grin again. "Father has been trying to get it done for months. Only took me a week to—" "Yes yes," Vesta said, "we know all about your silver tongue penchant for throwing coin at problems. What I didn't know was that Irinios-Ma is not on the main road back to Bella-Se." "Can't a boy visit his family?" "Preferrably not unannounced after Truenight." "Forgive the impropriety—" "You are the patron of House Bella. Act like it." Giovenzio flinched then cast his eyes downward. Vesta softened slightly. Regardless of whether Giovenzio's reaction was sincere or not, it was appropriate. After a few moments, Vesta broke the silence. "I assume you're here to request lodging for the night?" Giovenzio's eyes flicked upward to regard the Matriarch, darted to his uncle, then fell back down. "Erm, yes. If it's not too much trouble." Vesta sighed. "Of course. You know where your family's quarters are. Don't wake the servants." "Thank you, Auntie." "Now if you'll excuse me, it's been a long and trying day and I would like to get out of this armor. Nico, sorry to keep you up, but Priya is in the hospital." "Rhodwyn grant mercy! Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Nico exclaimed. "It's only a broken leg." Nico made for the door, muttering something to the paragons. Vesta and Giovenzio followed the man out to the hall, then parted ways as they made for their respective chambers.
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Post by ch00beh on May 30, 2016 1:43:29 GMT -5
Priya no longer lay on a wooden cart and instead had been moved to a wooden table that at least had a cotton sheet over it. She twiddled her thumbs, staring up at the ceiling. Devo had only lit one of the lamps before running off to find the doctor. The girl had already finished reading the labels on all the various tinctures and potions on the shelves and was just idly following the lines in the ceiling's swirling pattern. Unlike the labels, the red and gold mural had not changed since the last time she had lay here.
Suddenly, the door banged open. Priya craned her neck to see her father hurry in. She grinned. "Father!"
"Priya." The girl's father came to her side. He brushed her hair aside and smiled, then looked to the makeshift splint still bracing her leg. "What did you do this time?"
"I—we killed a giant." Priya beamed, then made a face. "He managed to dehorse me, though."
"And more." Nico sighed then chuckled. "That's my darling girl. Now where is that doctor?"
Priya shrugged. "Devo went to find him several minutes ago."
"Hmph." Nico turned from his daughter to the unlit akaram lamps lining the walls. Nestled into brass crooks under each firecrystal was a smooth stone sphere covered in brownish red lines. Nico took the orb from the nearest lamp and hummed to it. The lines seemed to grow sharper, and just at the edge of her hearing, Priya thought she heard something hum back. Nico held the orb at head level and let go. Instead of falling to the ground, the orb floated and the previously dark firecrystal began to cast its warm yellow glow. Nico went around the room, each hum bringing more and more light.
Once finished bringing the room to a level of brightness with which one could do work, Nico pulled a chair to the long worktable pressed against a far wall. Priya watched as her father took a key from his neck to unlock a safe built into the wall. From the safe he took a lumpy, dark iridescent violet stone, then locked the door again. The man placed a mortar in a specific spot on the table then carefully placed the purple akaram crystal into it. Crunching filled the otherwise quiet room as Nico ground the stone down with a pestle. Priya vaguely remembered the process: various shapes and symbols on the table kept any akaramatic reactions from occurring as her father mixed crushed shaper's stone, iron, salts, and water to create the ink that powered much of the empire.
Only a few minutes after Nico sat down did Magister Everwood and Devo barrel through the hospital door. Nico turned his head up, furrowed his brow, then went back to mixing the akaram ink.
"Many, many apologies for taking so long, my lady," said the doctor. He was a Sorenbog man of perhaps 50 or 60 with southern tanned skin and sandy hair. His hands were hidden underneath his robes' sleeves, but Priya could see them fidgeting as he went to an empty area of the workbench by the shelves of bottled liquids. Devo, on the other hand, calmly sauntered over to Priya's bed and tousled the girls' hair again. Priya swatted his hand away and her brother laughed in response.
After some minutes of mixing a potion, muttering instructions to Nico, and looking over Priya's hastily bound leg, Magister Everwood came to Priya with a small wooden bowl of a milk white substance. "My lady, I believe you know what to do with this."
"Cimryth take me," Priya muttered. Her father, busy drawing various geometric lines on a scroll, paused and shot the girl a look. Devo stifled a smile. "I, er, yes, Magister." The girl grudgingly took the draft, held her nose, and choked down the impossibly sour, chalky liquid down.
"Apologies," the doctor said.
Priya just lay her head back down and stared at the ceiling, resisting the urge to brush her tongue or spit. She felt the potion pinch its way down her throat. Not the most pleasant feeling, but one she unfortunately knew how to cope with.
As the infused bonemeal reached her stomach, Priya was also aware of the splints gingerly being removed from her leg and some parchment being wrapped around in the splints' place. Several sheets of parchment later, Devo lay a hand on Priya's shoulder and held a leather strip with his other hand. Priya took a few breaths the nodded, taking the leather between her teeth.
"Are you ready, my lady?" the doctor asked.
"Jusht do it," Priya grunted through the leather bit.
"Very well. Begin imagining your healthy leg."
Priya squeezed her eyes shut and pictured herself walking about. She let the images settle in her mind, trying her best to stop any meandering thoughts.
"Now, open your mind and accept that I am here to help."
That was her father's voice. The one she had grown up with, and the the one that had been with her for every scrape and bruise in the past 16 years. Priya held the voice in her mind as a source of comfort. The soul was a powerful thing, and without acceptance, would not let another mind alter the body.
Someone started humming a deep tone and intense pain shot up Priya's leg and into her entire body, causing the girl to seize up. She felt as if several iron vices all began crushing her broken leg at once, and she was aware of everything under the skin shifting at their own volition. The girl grunted and bit down on the leather strap. She instinctively tried to gag it out, but Devo held it tight within her mouth.
Priya tried to keep still, but her instincts told her to escape. Her entire body followed the thought, save for her wrapped leg which held completely still. The paper felt like fragile parchment but held her like silk bands. It was a strange feeling, thinking she could rip through her restraints on accident while being completely bound by them for what felt like an eternity.
As suddenly as it began, the healing stopped. Priya's breath rang ragged, but she finally could open her eyes. Devo still kept the leather bit tightly in her mouth. Her father had taken a step away from the table but had an obvious look of concern on his face. Magister Everwood's eyes darted from the girl's leg to the eyes of all other present and back again in a quick cycle.
Priya took a few more breaths then slackened her jaw. Devo took the piece of leather out. Priya forced a smile then flexed her wrapped leg. It was stiff and sore and felt so weak that it couldn't hold weight for at least a day or two, but at least it felt solid. The girl breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you everyone. Can I sleep now?"
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 6, 2016 23:50:16 GMT -5
Some changes thanks to Give/Get Priya no longer lay on a wooden cart and instead had been moved to a wooden table that at least had a cotton sheet over it. She twiddled her thumbs, staring up at the ceiling. By the light of the single lamp that Devo lit before running off to find the doctor, the girl had already finished reading the labels on all the various tinctures and potions on the shelves, and now she was just idly following the lines in the ceiling's swirling pattern. Unlike the labels, the red and gold mural had not changed since the last time she had lay here. Suddenly, the door banged open. Priya twisted her head to see her father hurry in. She grinned. "Father!" "Priya." The girl's father came to her side. He brushed her hair aside and smiled, then looked to the makeshift splint still bracing her leg. "What did you do this time?" "I—we killed a giant." Priya beamed. "He managed to dehorse me, though." "And more." Nico chuckled. "That's my darling girl. Now where is that doctor?" Priya shrugged. "Devo went to find him several minutes ago." "Hmph." Nico turned from his daughter to the unlit lamps lining the walls. Nestled into brass crooks under each firecrystal was a smooth stone orb covered in brownish red lines. Nico took the ball from the nearest lamp and hummed to it. The lines seemed to grow sharper, and just at the edge of her hearing, Priya thought she heard something hum back. Nico held the orb at head level and let go. Instead of falling to the ground, the orb floated and the previously dark firecrystal began to cast its warm yellow glow. Nico went around the room, lighting each dark lamp with another hum. Once finished bringing the room to a level of brightness with which one could work, Nico pulled a wooden stool to the long worktable pressed against a far wall. Priya watched as her father took a key from his neck to unlock a plain steel safe built into the wall. From the safe he took a lumpy, dark iridescent violet stone, letting the thick metal door hang open as he worked. The man placed a mortar in a specific spot on the table then carefully placed the purple akaram crystal into it. Priya watched her father nudge the mortar to and fro, trying to center the bowl within a ruddy circle set inside repeating, intersecting lines. Crunching filled the otherwise quiet room as Nico ground the stone down with a pestle. Even with the three extra years and Father's direct supervision, Priya had never developed the same skill or knack as the twins, but she still vaguely remembered the process: The shapes and symbols on the table kept any unwanted reactions from occurring as an akaramancer mixed crushed shaper's stone, iron, salts, and water to create the ink that powered the empire. Only a few minutes after Nico sat down did Magister Everwood and Devo barrel through the hospital door. Nico turned his head up, furrowed his brow, then went back to mixing the akaram ink. "Many, many apologies for taking so long, my lady," said the doctor. He was a Sorenbog man of perhaps fifty or sixty with southern tanned skin and sandy hair. His hands were hidden underneath his robes' sleeves, but Priya could see them fidgeting as he went to an empty area of the workbench by the shelves of bottled liquids. Devo, on the other hand, calmly sauntered over to Priya's bed and tousled the girls' hair again. Priya swatted his hand away, and her brother laughed in response. After some minutes of mixing a potion, muttering instructions to Nico, and looking over Priya's hastily bound leg, Magister Everwood came to Priya with a small wooden bowl of a milk-white substance. "My lady, I believe you know what to do with this." "Cimryth take me," Priya muttered. Her father, busy drawing four sided shapes on a scroll, paused and shot the girl a look. Devo stifled a smile. "I, er, yes, Magister." The girl grudgingly took the draft, held her nose, and choked down the impossibly sour, chalky liquid. "Apologies," the doctor said. Priya just lay her head back down and stared at the ceiling, resisting the urge to brush her tongue or spit. She felt the potion pinch its way down her throat. Not the most pleasant feeling, but one she unfortunately knew how to cope with. As the infused bonemeal reached her stomach, Priya was also aware of the splints gingerly being removed from her leg and some parchment being wrapped around in the splints' place. Several sheets of parchment later, Devo lay a hand on Priya's shoulder and held a leather strip with his other hand. Priya took a few breaths then nodded, taking the tanned hide between her teeth. "Are you ready, my lady?" the doctor asked. "Jusht do it," Priya grunted through the dry, sour bit. "Very well. Begin imagining your healthy leg." Priya squeezed her eyes shut and pictured herself walking about. She let the images settle in her mind, trying her best to stop any meandering thoughts. Yesterday's stroll through the gardens, squatting to tend her purple hyacinths. Bare feet on the wooden floors of her bedroom last night. Splayed toes between sheets. Shuffling footwork every morning while crossing swords. "Now, open your mind and accept that I am here to help." That was her father's voice. The one she had grown up with, and the the one that had been with her for every scrape and bruise in the past sixteen years. Priya held the voice in her mind as a source of comfort. The soul was a powerful thing, and without acceptance, would not let another mind alter the body. Someone started humming a deep tone and intense pain shot up Priya's leg and into her entire body, causing the girl to seize up. She felt as if iron vices were crushing her broken leg, and she was aware of everything under the skin shifting unnaturally back into place. The girl grunted and bit down on the leather strap. She instinctively tried to gag it out, but Devo held it tight within her mouth. Priya tried to keep still, but her instincts told her to escape. Her entire body followed the thought, save for her wrapped leg which held completely still. The paper felt like fragile parchment but held her like silk bands. It was a strange feeling; the girl felt as if she would rip the healing scrolls with a twitch, but every movement was fast for what felt like an eternity. As suddenly as it began, the healing stopped. Priya's breath rang ragged, but she finally could open her eyes. Devo still kept the leather bit tightly in her mouth. Her father had taken a step away from the table but had an obvious look of concern on his face. Magister Everwood's eyes darted from the girl's leg to Priya's and back again. He was obviously intent on the state of Priya's leg, but he stole glances at all those present repeatedly. Priya took a few more breaths before slackening her jaw. Devo took the piece of leather out after a few moments. Priya forced a smile and flexed her wrapped leg. It was stiff and sore and felt so weak that it couldn't hold weight for at least a day or two, but at least it felt solid. The girl breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you everyone. Can I sleep now?"
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 25, 2016 18:09:57 GMT -5
Devo woke as the smaller sun, Qoris, began to peak over the horizon. The larger sun, Vos, hovered above its companion in a orange and blue sky, casting its rays into the young man's room. An entire facade of Devo's chambers had been transmuted into translucent bricks that distorted the shapes outside, and nestled into the masonry were panes of crystal glass, all of them swung open to let in the northeastern breeze.
Devo kicked off his blanket and rolled out of bed. He stepped over to the open window to watch the city of Irinios-Ma wake up. The warm, humid air rolled over the young man's cheeks, bringing with it the Calmor River's familiar, musty smells.
"Lord Irinio," groaned a baritone voice from the bed, muffled by sheets. "Must you always he so brusque?"
"You know the answer to that, Oren," Devo said with a smile. He continued looking out the window, and after a few minutes, Oren began snoring again. Outside, the Fringe shimmered across the sky in the morning light, but, thank the gods, was otherwise still. Below the static sky, the bustle of the city moved in in droves. Horse drawn carts ran up and down the expansion's straight avenues, moving goods and people in and out of the city. Merchants in their gaudy colors and artisans in their practical cloth congregated around the bazaars that cropped up like weeds along the city's major arteries. The old city, too, was a burst of activity as a small fleet of brigs as well as a handful of semayan aircutters lashed themselves to the docks along the Calmor. Winged serpents whipped through the air and two legged humans scrambled along the ground, all seeming to hold ropes attached to one thing or another. Devo grinned. The graceful, yet efficient, dance to secure an aircutter was something the young man would not tire of for a while.
Devo's watch was interrupted by a pounding knock on the room's heavy oaken door. "Enter."
Devo heard the door creak open and click shut, timid footsteps following. The young man casually looked over his shoulder to find a somewhat younger man in Irinio red stealing glances at his lord but keeping his eyes otherwise fixed on the ceiling. Devo turned back to watch the second train of the morning scuttle along the Calmor bridge, as well as to stifle a laugh. Devo had caught the lad, some second son from some minor house--the Vargas?-- a month or so back scurrying from Priya's room before morning sabre practice. Enough prestige to not annoy mother if she found out, but definitely not enough to bring further into the family than as a courier. Getting his sister to attack wildly had been exceptionally easy that day.
"Yes?" Devo said.
"Lord Irinio," the boy said with a light voice, "your cousin Giovenzio sends his greetings and wishes to inform you that he arrived late last night and wishes for your company today. Erm, if it pleases, m'lord."
"So it was Gio last night!" Devo hadn't seen his cousin in months. "Of course. Tell him I'll meet him in an hour or so."
"Yes, m'lord."
"And did he say if he'd be waiting somewhere?"
"Erm--"
"The Bella chambers, a carriage, the gardens....?"
"Erm, no. None of those, m'lord. He didn't say, I think."
Devo rolled his eyes then strolled to the bed to give Oren a shove. Devo's bedmate woke with a start. "Well, then tell him I'll be waiting with a carriage outside the Bencarlo tower. Oh, and tell Priya I'll be by in half an hour if she wants to come with us." Devo thought for a moment. "But do that after you give Giovenzio my message."
"Y-yes, m'lord." The boy's face was reddening.
"Alright, off with you know," Devo said with a shooing motion. Head full of sand, that one. "Oren, get up. I need birds sent to cancel my appointments for the day and a carriage summoned. C'mon, up you go..."
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Post by ch00beh on Aug 25, 2016 13:04:26 GMT -5
Devo woke as the smaller sun, Qoris, began to peek over the horizon. The larger sun, Vos, hovered above its companion in a orange and blue sky, casting its rays into the young man's room. An entire facade of Devo's chambers had been transmuted into translucent bricks that distorted the shapes outside, and nestled into the masonry were panes of crystal glass, all of them swung open to let in the northeastern breeze.
Devo kicked off his blanket and rolled out of bed. He stepped over to the open window to watch the city of Irinios-Ma wake up. The warm, humid air washed over the young man's cheeks and bare chest, bringing with it the Calmor River's familiar, musty smells.
"Lord Irinio," groaned a baritone voice from the bed, muffled by sheets. "Must you always be so brusque?"
"You know the answer to that, Oren," Devo said with a smile. He continued looking out the window, and after a few minutes, Oren began snoring again. Outside, the Fringe shimmered across the sky in the morning light, but, thank the gods, showed no other movement. Below the still sky, the bustle of the city moved in droves. Horse drawn carts ran up and down the expansion's straight avenues, moving goods and people in and out of the city. Merchants in their gaudy colors and artisans in their practical cloth congregated around the bazaars that cropped up like weeds along the city's major arteries. The old city, too, burst with activity as a handful of semayan aircutters descended to the Calmor. The aircutters looked like flying boulders, as they were in fact cut from the floating islands that hovered over the Aequians. Wooden structures, fabric bags and sails, and a score of Semayans were lashed to the vessel. The winged serpents flapped their wings powerfully while more of their brethren whipped through the air holding ropes to secure their respective cutters to the docks. Devo grinned. The graceful, yet efficient, dance to secure an aircutter was something the young man would not tire of for a while, though his delight was soon interrupted by a pounding knock on the room's heavy oaken door. "Enter."
Devo heard the door creak open and click shut, timid footsteps following. The young man casually looked over his shoulder to find a somewhat younger man in Irinio red stealing glances at his lord but keeping his eyes otherwise fixed on the ceiling. Devo turned back to watch the second train of the morning scuttle along the Calmor bridge, as well as to stifle a laugh. Devo had caught the lad, some second son from some minor house—the Vargas?—with enough prestige to not annoy mother but not enough to wed, a month or so back scurrying from Priya's room before morning sabre practice. Getting his sister to attack wildly had been exceptionally easy that day.
"Yes?" Devo said.
"Lord Irinio," the boy said with a light voice, "your cousin Giovenzio sends his greetings and wishes to inform you that he arrived late last night and wishes for your company today. Erm, if it pleases, m'lord."
"So it was Gio last night!" Devo hadn't seen his cousin in months. "Of course. Tell him I'll meet him in an hour or so."
"Yes, m'lord."
"And did he say if he'd be waiting somewhere?"
"Erm—"
"The Bella chambers, a carriage, the gardens....?"
"Erm, no. None of those, m'lord. He didn't say, I think."
Devo rolled his eyes then strolled to the bed to give Oren a shove. Devo's bedmate woke with a start. "Well, then tell him I'll be waiting with a carriage outside the Bencarlo tower. Oh, and tell Priya I'll be by in half an hour if she wants to come with us." Devo thought for a moment. "But do that after you give Giovenzio my message."
"Y-yes, m'lord." The boy's face was reddening.
"Alright, off with you know," Devo said with a shooing motion. Head full of sand, that one. "Oren, get up. I need birds sent to cancel my appointments for the day and a carriage summoned. C'mon, up you go..."
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Post by ch00beh on Aug 30, 2016 21:05:04 GMT -5
Devo exited his room after the promised half an hour wearing a deep scarlet doublet with handsomely designed silver clasps and expertly woven embroidery. The young man locked his door with a click, looped the key's fine chain around his neck, then tucked it into the turquoise silk loosely tied around his shoulders. He straightened his sabre before setting off toward Priya's chambers, soft leather footsteps padding down the hall.
After a handful of doors, Devo's hallway expanded into the main atrium. Beyond the marble balustrade floated the massive aquasphere that the old giants worshipped, then as more of an insult than anything else, the third Matriarch Irinio had built the Keep around. Crystal clear water extended several stories and above and below, its surface gently lapping in circles. Each crest and trough refracted sunlight entering the dome above into threads of light on the atrium walls.
Priya's chambers were not far from Devo's, and the young man found his sister already outside when he arrived. She was leaning over the railing, her painted breastplate tapping against stone as she fussed with the blossoming vines hanging from the floor above. The loose sleeves of her red blouse were scrunched up her arms.
"Good morning, Priya," Devo said.
"Hello," Priya replied. She held a yellow flower gingerly then plucked it free from its parent vine. Still leaning on the balustrade, she slid the flower into her braided hair then turned toward her brother.
"Did you sleep well?" Devo grabbed a brass topped cane that was leaning against a pillar and handed it to his sister, then offered his left arm for even more assistance.
Priya hobbled into her brother's arm but placed most of her weight on the cane. The basket of her backsword wiggled loosely against Devo's hip as they started walking toward the Keep's lift. "As well as one can with a constant throbbing in their leg."
"Sounds like you're getting used to it," Devo said, smirking. "What is this, your tenth broken bone?
Priya lightly elbowed her brother and huffed. "Third."
An attendant greeted the two on the wooden platform behind the main staircase. Once the Irinios were aboard, the attendant pulled a lever and carefully passed a rope hand over hand to lower the lift. The siblings thanked the man as they got off and soon were at the Keep's northern entrance, underneath the Bencarlo tower's gate. Waiting outside under the warm summer suns was a dark wooden carriage, a pair of trihorns with their horns carved into wings idling in front of it. A young woman in red was standing by the carriage's open door, though her glaive leaned casually on her shoulder as she was currently enraptured by a bigger man wearing vibrant green. Giovenzio ran a hand through his oiled hair, struck a pose, then gestured dramatically. He bellowed a guffaw that the Irinio guard matched. They laughed for a few moments before Giovenzio noticed Priya and Devo approaching.
"Cousins!" Giovenzio exclaimed. He stepped toward the pair with wide arms while the guard behind him snapped to attention.
Before Giovenzio could reach them, Devo let go of Priya and bowed deeply. "Patron Bella."
"Oh shut up," Giovenzio said, grabbing Devo by the shoulder to straighten him up. Devo was grinning widely and pulled his cousin into an embrace.
"Gio, it's been too long"
"Aye, that it has," Giovenzio said. He turned toward Priya and gave her a much lighter hug. "I'd greet you more fully, but I heard you had an incident yesterday."
"And I'd bow deeper than Devo, but I don't respect you." Priya stuck out a tongue.
"Gods, I've missed you two," Giovenzio laughed. "So I hope you don't mind that I've already told Sarah that we're going to the arena."
"Oh?" Devo said as he hopped into the carriage and held out a hand to Priya, pulling her up after him. "What's playing?"
"Tower match," Priya said as she took a seat in the far corner beside a small table holding a crystal decanter of some orange liquid and a plate of smoked meats and colorful fruits. She massaged her leg as she gingerly bent it under the table, then helped herself to the juice. "Mistress Estos versus Master Sorolla from Mara-Ma. Do you pay attention to anything that's happening in this city?"
"Why bother when I know you'll tell me?" Devo grunted as he took Giovenzio's hand and hefted him up. The door closed after him and soon the carriage eased forward down the cobblestone street, well-kept manors, temples, and shops rolling by outside their closed window.
Priya just rolled her eyes while Giovenzio snorted. "I see that nothing has changed, so should I bother asking how you two have been after these four months apart?"
"I've been well," Devo replied as he reached over his sister to grab a slice of melon, "though Priya's been better. Can you believe this is her twelfth broken bone since she started riding?"
Priya slapped her brother as he maneuvered back into his seat. "Actually, I'm also doing wonderfully. We've been seeing less and less brigands coming this far north from the Alengyr. And yourself? You seem in good spirits."
Giovenzio glanced out the window as one of the larger temples passed by then looked back at Priya. "Indeed, cousin. I just came in from Eshtan-Ma after finally sealing that trade agreement with the Fat Dragon herself."
Devo snorted while Priya made a face. "Fat Dragon" was a less than affectionate name for Matriarch Anula Eshtan of Eshtan-Ma. Her city was built into the lucrative Gyrwol Mountains, and she guarded her mines of shaper's stone like a dragon from children's tales. Giovenzio also repeatedly joked that she kept a horde of swine in her vaults to keep her figure.
"And how'd you manage that?" Devo asked. "I thought Uncle Vicente gave up after being snubbed for the third time."
Giovenzio pulled a silk pouch and pipe from his doublet, and from the pouch he took out a pinch of shredded leaves. The young man placed the leaf into his pipe, and as if in response, the pipe flickered and fragrant smoke began drifting up. Giovenzio offered the pipe to his cousins, who both refused, before taking in a breath of his own. "Well, when a father's pleas fall on deaf ears, a son must find... other... means of persuasion." Giovenzio leaned back and winked.
Priya and Devo groaned at the same time.
"Please Cimryth," Devo said, "please let today finally be my last day in the cycle so that I have no chance of remembering this awful image ever again."
Giovenzio bellowed a laugh. "No, not the Matriarch."
"Thank the—"
"It was Lady Tiél."
"Gods!" Priya glared at Giovenzio. "The matron?!?"
Giovenzio shrugged nonchalantly. "She's the only one who has her mother's ear these days.
"She's almost twice your age," Devo said, exasperated.
"And married to your cousin!"
Giovenzio chortled again. "Which makes me just about blessed by the paragons when it comes to consoling Gustav's disappointed women.
"You're a fucking idiot," Devo said, rubbing his temples.
"Yes, but this fucking idiot is now the most desirable akaram source for those houses across the Tircanel." Giovenzio poured himself some juice and took a swig. He then unlatched the window and tapped ashes out onto the palace district's main road. "Also, you're not the first Irinio to tell me that today."
"Yes, Mother is quite good at being the first to let one know of their failings," Priya said.
Giovenzio shrugged as he refilled his pipe. Before he could light it again, Priya unceremoniously took it from him and took the first drag. A lazy grin seemed permanently set in the young man's face. "Well, it's a beautiful day to keep disappointing her."
The carriage soon passed under the palace district's walls and into the second city. The streets were notably denser as the district was where most of the city's trade entered. The avenue they took was wide enough for four carriages to ride abreast with comfort, but if not for Giovenzio's green cloaked guards parting the crowds, the Irinio carriage would have come to a complete stop.
Eventually the ground sloped down to docks and warehouses and the carriage began rolling over the Calmor Bridge's evenset stone. The crowds were noticeably thinner here as only one side of the bridge could accommodate the hastily erected merchant stalls. Weathered, iron rails ran down the bridge's other side. Devo could hear a staccato clicking in the distance, crescendoing as the carriage rattled along. At the height of the noise, a massivel garagen scuttled by, its akaram etched carapace obscuring the entirety of Devo's window. The lines shimmered in an inexplicable pattern of pulses and waves, keeping the thousand legged garagen moving forward as it pulled dozens of cars filled with passengers and goods from the capital. The coal skinned Telaenian guards walked casually atop each car, seemingly oblivious to their precarious station. Devo was glad that they had made it out of the second city before the train had arrived and brought an even thicker crowd.
The Calmor river was narrower than the Genavais, but not by much. It took almost fifteen minutes to reach the peak of the arched bridge. Down in the river, a three mast ship waited. Devo could hear the woman in the crow's nest shouting obscenities at the Irinio official standing at the bridge's edge. After another back and forth, the woman threw up her hands then held a pouch up for a messenger bird. The tiny, brilliantly colored creature came to a curious hover next to the pouch before snatching it and buzzing back to the bridge. As the carriage passed, Irinio guards halted traffic after them and the official raised his hands. The mortar in between the bricks seemed to come into more focus, and Devo could feel a dull tremble through the carriage floor. Soon after that, the bridge itself began to hinge upward, and the trade ship rowed through.
"Ha! Looks like you two are buying lunch."
The bridge gently sloped back down then opened into the Eastbank expansion. Unlike the second city, the people in Eastbank were mostly on their way to somewhere else. The simple houses and tenements here were mostly populated by wealthier farmers, and at this point of the day, they were already all outside the walls, tending to their fields. The people that were present were the merchants and the revellers, the ones brought here for entertainment, profit, or both at the games.
The carriage rounded a corner and close-built houses came to an abrupt end to make way for the imposing arena and its expansive plaza. The arena's arched stone walls towered over the shifting, colorful crowd. While a tree-lined road did stretch from the plaza's edge to a pair of statues flanking the arena entrance, the avenue was currently acting as a stage for a group of performers playing a fight between the Shields of the Falling Sky and a large, spider-like heldyn animated by three of the troupe. The fake Shields mimed dramatic deaths as the carriage went around.
Amidst the crowd, several fully armored figures pandered, sky blue bear paws and the words "Ik Øtt Himin" proudly dyed into their half capes. One of them stood a foot taller than the rest and still wore his helm. Devo could make out the words "Heiðr Í Dauðn" around the crown of the helmet.
Priya smiled and banged twice on the carriage's roof. The girl unlatched the window as the vehicle came to a stop. "Uncle Vellis!"
The seven foot tall suit of armor turned from the young boy he had been talking to and toward the Irinio carriage. He excused himself then came to the open window.
"Greetings Priya, Devo," he said. Vellis' voice was reminiscent of wind blowing through any empty castle with a distinct ring behind every word. The man's lifted visor revealed why: Instead of flesh, an unmoving face of carved akaram and granite sat behind the steel.
"I am sory to hear about your leg, my lady, but you have mine and my order's utmost gratitude for the thirty souls. They'll make fine additions to our ranks." As he spoke, the dense web of fine, overlapping akaram circles etched across his face pulsed. Devo found himself blinking often as geometric patterns formed by arrays of circles rapidly coalesced in and out of focus.
"You are most welcome. It's the least we can offer," Priya said.
Devo caught Giovenzio shifting in his seat, his eyes obviously laid on the carriage's other window. It seemed Vellis noticed the young man as well. "Ah, Giovenzio. I did not know you were in the city."
"Well, I'm sitting right here," Giovenzio said.
"Indeed. How fares Bella-Se? Have the walls been been rebuilt?"
"Aye, and the destroyed buildings, perhaps about six months ago." Giovenzio scowled. "Why am I not surprised that a Shield who even carries the Bella name is only hearing about this now?"
Vellis cocked his head. "Carried. You know I gave the name up a hundred years ago–"
"And yet you've still let every generation since call you uncle. I've always found it fascinating how the grand houses give their sons and daughters and silver, yet when it comes time to rebuild after a heldyn attack, the Shields claim that they are merely defenders."
Devo and Priya exchanged glances with each other, fidgeting uncomfortably. Two years ago, Bella-Se had been hit by a heldyn attack. It wasn't the worst in recent memory, but the fallrock had managed to put a hole in one of the city's walls. A dozen ended up missing with many more confirmed dead. Patriarch Bella was very public about the broken wall; the Shields were responsible for the upkeep of the akaram arrays that could push a fallrock away from the cities, but here they had failed. Rumor had it that Nestor, Giovenzio's younger brother, had rallied the defense rather than the local Shields, though due to the implication that Giovenzio was absent, neither the patriarch nor the patron would admit to anything. Given how... soft Giovenzio's physic was, neither Irinio had ever had the gall to bring it up in private.
Vellis' face could not move, but the heavy pause had said enough. "Your anger is warranted, but remember that House Bella–even House Irinio–were not so great when I was a lad. There are more important things than the family's pride."
"Is that a threat?" Giovenzio said. He was leaning into the window, and his brow was a constellation of lines.
"Of course not, nephew," Vellis said. "The Shields do not worry themselves with the squabbles of the Empire. I merely make an observation. Now, Matron, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course," Priya said, clearly glad that Vellis had chosen to withdraw. "Please, um, find us in the arena. If it pleases you."
"I will not be watching today, my niece. But thank you."
Devo pounded the ceiling as Vellis turned away, letting out a breath of relief. The carriage eased forward again.
Giovenzio took another breath from his pipe. "I mislike the warden golems. Would that they died like the other Shields and remembered nothing when their souls were bound back."
"He's your uncle," Priya said, making a face.
"Was my uncle. In fact, he was never even mine to begin with, nor was he my father's, nor my father's father's."
Not much of a difference, Devo thought, but didn't bother to say. He could easily trade words with any matron or a patron, but he wouldn't dare contradict any of them. Too much of a hassle.
Priya stole a glance at Devo, apparently thinking the same. "Of course," she said, lacking any tone of sincerity.
Before Giovenzio could feign more protest, the carriage came to a halt. A pair of Giovenzio's guards came to the carriage door, keeping any curious away simply with their stoic presence. The Irinio guard, Sarah, apparently, came down from her seat and opened the door.
The trio stepped out underneath an awning extended over the arena's second entrance, the one kept for those with the coin to reserve it. Priya pulled her purse from the collar of her breastplate nad took from it a full silver standard then handed the heavy coin to the arena attendant. The overly muscled man stepped aside and gestured them in.
"After you, my lieges," Devo said with a half bow. He smiled sheepishly as both Priya and Giovenzio shot him a glare.
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