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[h2][b][u]House Valarien, Captial Lalrial and City of the Phoenix[/u][/b][/h2]
[img]http://wallpapers.wallhaven.cc/wallpapers/full/wallhaven-30561.jpg[/img]

[i]Odvin, 7th of Gerna | 1200 AU[/i]
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              Shamgar Valarien had few places of solaces these days given his new position. So now and again he would retreat to the sanctified halls of the Grand Temple of Kammeth in Lalrial's northern district. He walked down the great main chamber and ran his hands against the marble walls, taking the time to appreciate the fabulous artwork painted onto the high walls. Much of it was Kammeth and his children fighting in the Age of Strife. They were only artisan representations of course, but Shamgar always felt a sense of... something he could scarcely describe whenever he took the time to take in the murals.  He stopped at one part of the depiction that revealed Kammeth returning to life once more during his battle with Azueal. Every year Kammeth would soar into the darkness that was the Great Watcher and seemingly fall. Only to rise once more from the heart of the sun to do battle anew. 

              It was a testament to the iron will of their holy father. To face the fear and pain of death again and again for his beloved children. It always brought him to near tears whenever came to a section that showed the Sun God fallen. Yet he would always rise again wiser with every battle. Such dedication such sacrifice... truly he understood each realm's love for their chosen patron deity. Traditions died hard after all. Yet, the cold calculating judgment of Helstar nor the bloodthirsty ways of the warrior goddess Ra did not give him reason to show affection to either. To him as the unconditional love of Kammeth seemed to suppress all others. So immersed was he in the artistry that he did not take much heed to the world around him.  

Suddenly a familiar voice bounced off the hallowed walls behind Shamgar, “I knew I would find you here.”

              Shamgar turned toward the source of the voice. However, he instantly recognized it before he set eyes on her. "Well I'll be, my dearest Sophsi, what a delightful surprise!" A genuine smile graced his lips. He hugged his daughter close before holding her at arm's length to get a good look at her. "May you look more like your mother every day, why did you not write you were coming to the capital?"  

	     “Despite years of education, I forgot how to write while being plumped and pampered with the Duvards,” Sophsi joked, squeezing her father tight. She released her embrace to look up at her dad, she could recognize his aging even through the sleepy haze that was taking over her vision. 

              Shamgar chuckled at that, his first real laugh in...blast it felt like ages. "Then it seems I poured in all those tricrowns into your schooling to no avail. Perhaps I should have had you sent to train as a jester after all." His tone was playful and his smile revealed it. "So how fairs good Lord Edgar? I trust you have not driven him mad with your usual antics?"    
	“You should’ve!” Sophsi agreed, “now I’m always the odd one out at handstand contests.”

	      She crossed her arms, “as for Edgar, he is as good as can be. I think he just accepts my antics as never ending at this point.” A devious smile crept on her face as she finished her sentence. 

              Shamgar shook his head, the truth was he had always known Sophsi as a [i]wild child[/i]. Something he had feared would scare away any potential suitors. "Well, that is, at least, good news." He paused in thought for a moment as he looked off to one side. "My old office is not far, we can talk there, the church has yet to find a new dawnbringer for the temple it seems. I predict they are merely waiting for me to step down from my duties as Lord Regent so that I can retake my post here in all honesty," the latter he added as they began to walk to his old office.  

	      “Probably,” Sophsi agreed, following her father, “anyone who wouldn’t want you in that seat is completely insane. You were so great at that job, I remember sneaking in at night to go over your papers for fun, and never did I ever see a knick or mistake.”

              Shamgar smiled at the memory of little Sophsi's antics. Not so little any more of course! But a father would forever think of his daughter as his little girl regardless of the years that passed. "Oh, you are not the only one who remembers," he said in a stern voice that was obviously for dramatic effect. "You always had a love for drawing here or there among the ledgers. I once forgot to erase them before I filed and handed them to the Arch Dawnbringer when he asked for documents on the Temples expenses and earnings that year. Imagine his surprise when he noticed little-drawn pegasuses and dragons scattered on the edges."

             He came to the office doors and pushed them open, following his daughter in and shutting the door behind them. He gestured for her to take a seat before he made his way over to his desk and soon found his old tea set. As he searched for the tea bags he added, "I had imagined Roman would have come himself, he is not ill I hope? I know Kenten of House Cragmore had a similar reason for his absence. Not that I at all mind, it gives us the excuse to catch up."   

	   “Roman entrusted Edgar and myself to figure out Duvards standing, apparently Roman remembers how I was back in the Imperial court and is trusting me to do quite a few things.” The more she spoke of the politics of her visit, the tired rings around her eyes seemed to deepen, hinting at her sleepless ride over to the capital.

   
           Shamgar hummed in understanding, "yes a sensible decision on his part." He looked up at his daughter and frowned noticing the bags under her eyes. He did not need to ask if she was getting enough sleep. Few knew her condition as well as he did. He perked up when he saw that--untouched since his leaving for the Palace-- the tea bags were where he had placed them. Thankfully there were still some Tellarian tea leaves left. He carefully crushed them and placed them in the kettle that sat on a ring of iron. He mouthed a prayer and tapped the side of the tea kettle. The water within soon began to boil despite the lack of a fire under it. 

As the tea boiled he decided to change the topic. "Well, enough of politics, I am concerned Sophsi," his gaze deadpan.

	“About what?” Sophsi yawned, letting her pose collapse into a casual sprawl in her chair. 

"You have been wed now for eight years Sophsi," Shamgar pointed out as he sat down and folded his hands, "Where are my grandchildren?"

 	Sophsi seemed to shove her hands in her lap, perking up at the question. At first she looked defensive, but her exhaustion seemed to quell it.

	“That’s-” She huffed, “it doesn’t matter!”

   Shamgar sighed, "I would remind you that you are 27 summers now, you'll forgive a father for his concern." The kettle at that point chose to whistle as steam hissed forth. "Speaking of which," he plucked the kettle up and filled a small cup he had placed out earlier. 

          "Drink this, it is no substitute for a full night but it will keep you from suddenly falling asleep in strange places." His tone now was of resigned concern. Shamgar had spent years searching for a cure for his daughter's inability to sleep. Divine magic was, of course, no use. And no remedies short of a sleeping spell proved of any use. Of course, he would forever refuse any mage casting anything on his daughter.

          He had ironically acquired a taste for tea from nights singing her to sleep. Only for her to wake a candlemark later. He had always assumed it some curse or taint of Azueal. Kammeth only knew. 

	  Sophsi loyally took the tea and cupped her hands around it sleepily. Slowly she brought it to her lips as her brows raised in thought. After a sudden gulp, she looked back at her father, “you’ll get a grandson or daughter -- or more as it is… doesn’t Ment have like four kids? I’ve just been so busy with putting to use everything I’ve learned over the years for the Duvards.”

         "Working hard to better your husband's house is a commendable quality Sophsi," Shamgar began as he poured himself a cup. "Truly I am proud of how far you have gotten. You never demanded any position, you never took the easy road, you took to your lessons with real enthusiasm and excelled. Talent such as yours comes perhaps once in a generation. Yet even Kammeth must rest. You should take time for yourself now and again Sophsi."

	“I’m not allowed sleep on my own terms as it is, father,” Sophsi sipped at her drink, “if I’m not working hard on one thing, I’m working hard on something else.”

	She let her head fall back against her chair. She dropped the empty cup onto the desk and closed her eyes, “you know how it is.”

            Shamgar took another sip of tea and sighed, "Sometimes I wish you could come to the capital more often my dear. You visit far too little for my liking." 

            He looked to the window, "I fear you have chosen a most...troubling time for a visit. " His gaze hinted his mind was elsewhere at that moment. He had yet to properly mourn the pass of his younger brother.  Burying himself in work had been his primary means of escape. That and Kammeth granting him the strength to overcome.  

           He was the last of his father’s children he realized with a bitter realisation. Carles had lost his life in the north to barbarians. Taramyth had been lost in the unforgiving high seas. Kammeth's mercy it seemed they had all been taken from him one by one, all of them while they pursued their love or dream. It seemed almost like a sick joke was being played on him. He banished such thoughts from his mind but his eyes betrayed his current state of emotions all the same.     

	A soft hand lethargically laid its palm on Shamgar, Sophsi standing next to him. Slowly she slipped her arms around her father and squeezed him tight.
         
            A moment of silence followed neither one speaking. A hand went to his eyes as he wiped a tear away. He held onto his daughter's hand as he collected himself. In a almost sad tone he said, "Promise Spohsi that you will stay safe. Times are changing I fear, I can feel it in the very air. And I don't not just mean the elections. The Long Night comes and it is still uncertain who will sit on the throne. The nobles bleed each other for what they can gain but remain blind to what is to come...."

             He breathed in and out slowly, "Or...perhaps that is just the grief of an old fool talking. Made paranoid by circumstance." He paused again, "You, Ment, Gowa... and even Deand are all I have left... I dare not fathom what I would do if I lost any of you."   

	“Then don’t fathom, father,” Sophsi squeezed his hand. “I am fine, and so are my siblings, and we will remain that way. We rise, remember?”


           The Lord Regent nodded, oddly finding some comfort in the houses ancient saying. "Indeed, we do." He breathed in sharply, "but forgive me, these past months have forced me to reevaluate a great deal... with that in mind have you heard much from your siblings of late? It seems now that they are gone on their own they visit so rarely. It would not hurt any of you to write now and again you know." The latter he said half-jokingly.    

	“Last I heard was Ment doing fatherly things, Gowa is being the warrior she is, and Deand never actually writes me.” Sophsi sighed, finding her way back to her seat.

	“They seem rather unafflicted by the turmoil, other than mourning,” Sophsi continued, suppressing a yawn. “I’m glad that the tornado of politics hasn’t sucked them up to be honest.”
  
             "Kammeth's mercy then, I hope we can rise out from this storm unscathed." He looked toward the window once more and at the rays of sunlight peaking through. "Certainly it would not be too much to ask..."