It had been a rattling experience for Dyril’s and Kiseo’s first time out to sea, but one that was expected. Their memories were burned with the early loss of the
Nen Sigil and captain Revion, the ship burned by ruthless pirates and lost to the sea’s depths with no idea what had happened to the Elven sailor or his crew. It was an unsettling loss for Dyril most of all since she met and personally hired the elf on his reputation.
After the danger had passed, the
Bein Thúl firmly in Formaroth waters, she had taken upon herself to bury her nose into her voyage’s ledger. Her mind calculated the loss in vivid estimates as her hand dripped the quill end into the inkwell before she touched to parchment. Her wrist delicately twitched and fingers pressed the end into the surface, usually elegantly penmanship scratched in the numbers. In all her years, especially under the apprenticeship under her uncle, she learned numbers never lied like people did. They only spoke of what was there even if it was hidden. It was one of the few things she had came to trust in this lifetime.
She bit her lower lip as she struggled with the ship’s movement, waves pounded the hull and churned her insides to and forth at unexpected moments. Her usually elegant penmanship was quickly becoming horrid chicken scratch causing her to inhale sharply. Over time, she had adjusted enough to make it at least legible, she loathed the appearance in comparison to her ‘land bound’ writing.
Needing a much deserved break, she casually sat the quill upon the groove built into the table and leaned back in her chair. The palms of her hands pressed deeply into the sockets of her eyes and rubbed. It was unladylike action, a fact that gnawed at her, but the frustration had overwhelmed her enough it was unavoidable. The sound of foot falls caught her attention causing Dyril to quickly sit upright and turned to the source. It was Kiseo. Upon seeing the Mao, Dyril’s right hand gestured her inside causing the now ex-slave to quickly react. Without wasting much time, Kiseo quickly thumped the door shut with her back and stepped to the half elf’s side promptly. Her eyes flickered over the numbers and letters, reading them surprisingly well, before she turned her attention to her mistress. Though they were in foreign waters, where slavery was abolished, the Mao knew she wouldn’t survive on her own and chose willingly to continue her services to Dyril.
Freedom wasn’t worth much if she couldn’t live long enough to enjoy it.
“The crew seems to have taken a liking to you,” Dyril said in the Mao’s native tongue, her hand jerked to Kiseo’s present appearance and lack of presence within the cabin.
Sheepishly, Kiseo smiled with her black lips (as much as a Mao could anyways),
“Yes. They are kind and seem willing to teach their ways. It was interesting to learn the terms of sailing but is unlikely that I will never dare to try such a thing for a living, mistress.”Dyril nodded in agreement. The only reason they were even sailing was to establish a connection with her human family and trade what few goods they still had. Continuing to sit there, Dyril thoughtfully considered a question then discarded it. The thoughts of a Mao weren’t important enough to her to bother with as she turned back to Kiseo.
“You came to interrupt my work, was there a reason? Speak,” Some habits didn’t die easily while a commanding tone edged into Dyril’s voice for answers.
Dropping the relaxed atmosphere the two shared earlier, Kiseo swallowed briefly then replied,
“Yes, Híril. We’ve just arrived in port and Captain Horus advised best to make arrangements in the The Little Reed Inn.” “The Little Reed Inn?” Dyril repeated the title with a questionable air over it.
Kiseo nodded, then explained,
“Yes, Híril. I double checked it and I asked the Captain about the name. It’s a respectful and higher end establishment that had humble beginnings, a fact the keeper reminds others by keeping the name. However, the quality is insisted on being excellent.” “Very well, you’re dismissed…,” Dyril turned to her desk before she paused, and quickly added causing the Mao to pause in her movement to the door,
“Oh, Kiseo. One thing, you’ll practice your Formaroth while here and only Mao when it’s needed. Don’t forget that.”Kiseo thought for a moment over the correct phrasing, “Try… I will? Understand.”
“It still needs work, but suitable enough for now.”“Yes Híril, keep practice I do.”
It was a rare occurrence indeed, that Lanaya was happy to be traveling by carriage, yet this day, it had occurred. The docks were, in her mind, the most unsavory place in the city, full of some of the worst examples of mundane greed, ignorance and brutality… But today business drew her here. Accordingly, she had chosen to make use of not only her carriage, to keep her from having to notice the scum on the docks, but also her newly appointed personal Knight of St. Elenor - whose burnished steel plate and church markings ensured that no heretic would dear waylay the carriage bearing the Thale coat of arms.
A guard had been sent ahead to inform the ship’s captain that his passenger would need to meet with the Magister upon arrival. Lana hoped he had successfully delivered the message, for she truly despised the smell that permeated this part of the city and wished to be gone as soon as possible.
Dyril moved through the bustling crew, their hands rushed for ropes and brought down the sails that threatened to flap in the surprisingly strong wind. Her eyes narrowed upon the captain as she marched her way through. Each time she carefully paused to avoid the working men and women, their attention elsewhere, as not to disturb their current work. Kiseo, naturally, moved quietly behind her with cat like grace.
Captain Thebes, a man in his late twenties and blond hair with a small scruff of beard growing in, took notice and smiled at his blue skinned passenger. Pointing at something on the map of his navigator, he then moved away and began to meet her halfway. His boots stomped along the stairway to the main deck just as she came to a halt at the bottom step.
“Well, Ms. Elian-”, he started before Dyril corrected him abruptly.
“I think the correct term is Híril, which translate to Lady, in this case.”
“Alright, but honestly I feel it doesn’t make much difference here if I may speak boldly ma’am. You’re in Formaroth now, not the Elven Imperium,” the Captain stated as he looked to the horizon, “Now, what are the arrangements for the cargo you have?”
Before Dyril could speak, her eyes caught movement from her peripheral, and turned to see a man dressed in a uniform with the Thale coat of arms on his tunic. He moved swiftly with purpose to Captain Thebes to deliver a message. Upon arriving, the younger man inhaled and then rumbled out the message, “The passenger of this ship has a summons to meet with Magister Dionisa, Advisor to the King. She will likely arrive by carriage presently.”
Dyril blinked in surprise at the message as she watched the man depart, quickly trotted across the deck and down the ramp. When his figure vanished, Captain Thebes was the first to break the quiet that settled over them, “That was an interesting turn of events. I’m rather shocked it’s not Magister Vyncetta coming to greet you instead of that unsavory woman. I heard rumors about her and none of them good.”
Kiseo looked at Dyril who then inquired about the statement, “Rumors? What type of rumors? This is the time I’ve heard of a Magister and I’m a little out of my depth with Formaroth court workings. So any information would be helpful, if you would be so kind?”
“A female mage who bewitches men with her magics and resulting in them being wrapped about her pinky,” Thebes said with a frown on his lips, his eyes hardened in an uncharacteristic fashion for his usually light hearted nature, “Poor Lord Thane is among her recent victims I’m afraid to say. I wouldn’t be surprised if she blackmailed our recent Magister to ensure she got the chance to meet you, Lady Dyril.”
“I’ll consider myself warned,” Dyril said, her hands patted her skirt straighter while she digested the information. She inwardly knew the rumors were only partly true, having a slight bit of truth within them. It was just a matter of finding it. Any time she had left to prepare had been wasted when she spied the carriage’s arrival and quickly made her way down the ramp, feeling Thebes’ head following her all the way.
At the approach of the guest Lana was expecting, the door was opened and steps put quickly into place. She did not rise, simply looking out from the sheltered confines of the carriage, wiping the scowl from her face as she did so. Though she found this place and its usual population disagreeable, this elven trader she was here to meet promised to be genuinely interesting. What she had not expected though, was the exotic creature that followed in the wake of the elf. It carried itself as a servant would - or at least, if it were human, that is what Lana would’ve guessed. The scholar in her demanded to know more, and so she made a snap decision to invite whatever it was as well as the elf.
She put on a welcoming smile as the blue skinned woman approached, her eyes lighting up in genuine surprise and curiosity at the sight of the other figure. “Welcome to Nyhem. I am Magister Lanaya Dionisa.” She beckoned to the pair then. “Please, come with me. Your… companion is welcome too. I would like to discuss your imports.” Her tone was friendly, for this was largely a formality. Nonetheless, her position meant it was also something of an honor to receive an audience so soon after arriving.
Dyril paused just outside the carriage and bowed at the waist, showing her respect in the simple gesture. Kiseo, meanwhile, turned her eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with the Magister. Unfamiliar with the customs or traditions of Formaroth, her behavior fell to the old habits of her slavery, as she kept close to her Elven mistress.
Being the more politically knowledgeable of the two, Dyril was the only one to speak, “I’m Híril Dyril Elian and this is my attendant, Kiseo. I’m honored to receive a visit by the Magister.”
Upon raising upright, Kiseo quickly moved to the step’s side and assisted Dyril inside. The furred arm raised to grip Dyril’s hand tightly before the half elven woman took a seat. Kiseo hesitated at following her mistress into the carriage as her eyes shifted for wagon being towed behind or to join the coachman on the front seat, her attention snapped back into awareness when Dyril cleared her throat.
“Kiseo, take a seat,” Dyril commanded in a voice of authority and firmness as she moved to the side. She patted the seat to indicate where the Mao should sit. A mental struggle ensured within the feline like servant before she finally caved in.
“Mistress, yes,” came Kiseo’s broken words before she obeyed.
After Kiseo was seated, Dyril began to get down into business, “I must say, my knowledge of Formaroth is a bit dated. It seemed the Captain thought I would be meeting a Magister Vyncetta instead and I’m a bit concern about this. Could you be so kind to enlighten me, if it wouldn’t be much trouble.”
Lana’s face darkened at the mention of her dead friend. There was sadness in her tone as she spoke. “The High Magister was assassinated very recently. It is only because of necessity that I assume my late friends role. Magical affairs have not ceased, and the King needed an advisor.” What she said would most likely come across defensive, but she was tired of nobles assuming that she had in some way orchestrated the events as a power play.
“You have my condolences and apologies. I was hoping it was something less grievous,” Dyril’s tone took on a careful but earnest tone after learning about the High Magister, one of genuine respect toward the loss the woman had endured in the recent time. However, her mind also drifted to the more poisonous aspects in politics and as her Uncle had taught her, fastest way to advancement was through the death of a superior. The woman seemed honest about her emotional stress but Dyril had seen excellent actresses in her dealings in trade. The Half Elven woman held her judgement until she had studied the new Magister farther, her hands fell into her lap and settled there.
“Maybe moving onto business would be best. What is it that a Magister does as it’s the first time I’ve actually heard the title and met one, or I would’ve been better prepared.”
“Thank you. The war has taken much from us all…” Lana said. It wasn’t fact that Aurelia had been killed by the war, but it was a possibility, and the war could possibly be blamed for the religious schisms as well. She was happy for the change of subject and quickly moved on, even as the carriage began to start rolling forward. “Magister is a title indicating my magical prowess. In this land I am respected because of it, though not as much as a High Magister would be. I am also the King’s magical advisor, as I mentioned before, and sit on his council of advisors. I am also the Lady of House Dionisa. Today, however, I meet with you primarily as the king's advisor. As I understand it, you are shipping items of a magical nature into this land. I would like to know the details, that I might better advise my King on how to proceed in relation to this matter.”
Dyril’s spine stiffened as the carriage jerked into motion, following the heavy foot falls of the horses. Mentally the half Elven woman hoped her earlier blunder wouldn’t give the woman the impression she was an idiot. The last thing she wanted was over half of Formaroth believing she was gullible and worse, their attempts to get cheaper products unsuccessful causing frustration to kill their desire to buy any after the false advertisement due to rumors. She mentally sighed at the anxiety building within her chest over something that hadn’t even happened… yet.
Noticing that Kiseo had been disturbingly quiet causing Dyril’s attention to shift. She spied out of her peripheral vision on her feline companion, who was distracting herself by staring out the window. Every so often her tail gave a lazy flick which seemed to get closer and closer to the Magister. Unable to stop it, without drawing attention, Dyril watched it then make a quick bat at the Lady of House Dionisa before it settled at the woman’s side.
Having been cramped inside a ship for a while and Dyril’s strict emphasis over not letting her tail invade personal space of others. Unable to correct the issue without drawing attention to it, she forced herself to return to the conversation.
“I’m open numerous questions about my products. However, the amount I have to sell is of little quantity but high quality. Another shipment is arriving for another involved party as agreed upon.”
There was a faint glow in the air as, with the lightest touch of force magic, Lana stopped the tail from actually contacting her, but she shot a dark glance at the creature anyway. It was quite rude to let its extremities flail so.
Turning back to the elf, she spoke. “I am not here to negotiate price or purchase, that is for the King’s economy specialists to handle. I simply want to know what could go wrong should your goods accidentally fall into the hands of the stupid or the malicious. In knowing that, and how to solve those problems, I will be able to advise my King that these goods are safe to import. It is purely in the interests of the safety and well-being of the people of this land… Though for that reason also, I do hope this other part you intend to sell to is not aligned with the enemy - Lord Manshrew, and his vile alliance.”
Some subtle instinct tugged at her to be careful with her next words, purely because of the venomous word choice in the Magister’s description of Lord Manshrew and his alliance. She had only vague understanding about the complications since news between Formaroth and the Imperium were very hard to come by without a hefty price. Due to her status within the manor, Dyril obvious didn’t have such resources or funds at her disposal. Rumors and hearsay were her best option even when it paled in comparison to facts.
Kiseo jerked when her tail was batted away then suddenly jerked her head into Lana’s direction, witnessing the dark glare for the first time. Her ears lowered and her eyes averted to the ground almost immediately as she tensed, seeming to expect a violent repercussion for her actions. Even her tail seemed to reflect the expectation as it curled about her body in an attempt to make it a smaller target.
“Kiseo, apologize to the Magister,” Dyril paused long enough to address the ill manners of her companion.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for my tail to-” Kiseo started before Dyril’s voice stopped her, the tone become sharp and more authoritative in reaction.
“In Formaroth,” Dyril reprimanded.
Kiseo nodded then adjusted her language, her mind seemed to struggle with the words and their forming, “Sorry I am. Tail… excited or joyful or…”
She stopped to consider her words, through her head hadn’t raised or changed from its posture when Dyril cut in in order to speed the apology up and make more sense of Kiseo’s explanation, “She’s been cooped up on a ship for a good part of the year and Mao’s tails tend to show their emotions. It flicks when it’s excited and sometimes they don’t realize they are in personal space. I’ve been trying to break that habit of hers with only gradual progress.”
Lana took in the information wordlessly, and with a neutral expression. She waited a moment, taking a page from Eli’s book, to let them think that maybe she might not accept. It would make a more lasting impression to not invade her personal space like that, even accidentally. But when the moment had passed, she spoke, her tone diplomatic “Apology accepted.”
“That settled, you also have my apologies for my earlier assumption. I was taught by my Uncle that usually when interest is shown, purchase is likely to follow and to quickly latch onto it before it vanishes. It’s a developing habit I’ve not broken purely out of respect for him,” Dyril stated, through the latter was an outright lie. It was purely because she was expected and forced to learn such a vile habit or risk unsavory aftermath. She inhaled then continued, her expression twisted up into what she hoped was a friendly one, “I can safely assure you the buyer isn’t someone named Lord Manshrew, at least. As I mentioned before, I’m out of my depth about politics in Formaroth as information is difficult to come by when merchants rarely make the trip to our lands.”
She adjusted her dress some to ensure it rested comfortable on her lap as she continued, “I will have Kiseo or someone else deliver you a full copy of my current stock so you know fully what item does. If you have any questions over a certain item, then I will be happy to explain it and even demonstrate its magic to you.”
Her peripheral vision noted Kiseo had relaxed when the Magister accepted the apology, but the odd silence had increased the half Elf’s alert in the matter. She would need a long and deep talk with Kiseo in private much later before serious damage was actually done, “The rest will have to wait until the bigger shipment arrives, I’m afraid. I was merely sent ahead to ensure arrangements for transportation so they aren’t rotting or stolen before they are delivered to their destination. I believe I’ve answered all your questions, are there any more?”
“I would be very interested in a demonstration of the magic.” Lana began - genuine interest in her voice. She was a scholar as well as a politician, after all. “But not today. I feel it is only right that I inform you of the political climate of Formaroth, lest you accidentally make enemies where you do not intend to.” Lana’s voice diplomatic again, did not convey the fact that it was less of a curtesy and more from the desire not to have an uninformed but influential fool running roughshod over her plans. “But first, where do you intend to stay, that I might direct the driver to take us there.”
Dyril was grateful her measure of the woman was accurate and seemed to relax a bit more as she continued to speak,“I appreciate it. Recovering from a misstep is often difficult. As for current lodgings, prior arrangements were made at a place called The Little Reed Inn for a month where a distant side of my family is suppose to meet me and make permanent arrangements from there.”
Kiseo, meanwhile, found her attention drifted from the conversation and gradually recovered scolding. She had began to distract herself by looking out the carriage window when a strange bird (by her standards) flirted by overhead. On impulse she peeked out her head farther into the window in hopes to catch a better glimpse.
“Kiseo,” Dyril abruptly said to hint to the Mao to pull herself back into the carriage, but she didn’t divert her attention from the Magister.
Rather than shout, or open the door and lean out - Lana instead chose the more elegant method of informing the driver. Her right hand quickly traced a small pattern before her - the air around her fingers shimmering as it did. Then she spoke, just as she had been speaking to Dyril before. “Driver, take us to the Little Reed Inn.”
Abruptly, the carriage changed its course. It was, perhaps, a little frivolous to use magic for such a trivial thing, but with Lana’s mastery of such things, it was an equally trivial spell for her.
Lana then looked at Dyril and began to speak of the state of Formaroth. “Recently, King John Remonnet died, along with his wife, the Queen, leaving no heir.” Her hands moved through the air again, and beside her, in clear view of her guests, a still image of the funeral appeared. “Duncan De Reimer and Andrew Manshrew both claimed the right to the Throne -” an image of them shouting at each other across the council hall appeared. “But neither could convince a majority of their legitimacy… Nor would either have accepted such. But Duncan held the loyalty of more than Andrew though, and Andromeda is far from here. Duncan is the true King, the more just and wise of the two. He did not plunge this land into war over his own personal honor as Andrew did.” Lana’s tone was sure as she spoke of Duncan, even though her allegiances had shifted.
Now, an image of war appeared. A highly stylised image of armies arrayed against each other - as one would see on a tapestry - for Lana had never seen true war, and so could not create an image of it. “War has broken out. Houses have declared their allegiances to their chosen sides… Some have paid dearly, some have gained greatly.” An image of Eli Blackwell appeared then - his chiseled features more handsome than any mundane image could portray. “House Blackwell even secured its independence. The land of Alenius is the Blackwell Kingdom now. They value people for their skills over their lineage… But I suggest you limit your dealings to one Kingdom until the tension between the Kings dies down.”
Lana lingered a moment on the Blackwell image, but moved on almost as swiftly as before - this time to show Aurelia on the balcony of her tower still very much alive. “My predecessor and friend from a young age - High Magister Aurelia Vyncetta - was assassinated recently. A tragedy for magic in Formaroth… and one best left unmentioned in the presence of King Duncan, for she was a close friend of his.” Now the image showed a church of Klebrithy. Lana had not personally seen much of the affair that went on with the church of late, and so could not create images of the people involved. “Most recently, there has been a schism in the Church. An element of radicals have split from the main body of the Church, and though I will not bore you with the details, they hate mages and magic both with a passion. Nothing has been said of elves or other creatures, but if I were you I would be wary of the church for a while, lest you run into a xenophobic heretic.” With that, the image disappeared and the carriage seemed just a little darker than before.
Dyril had leaned in a little, but not enough to become a nuisance to the Magister’s personal space, as she absorbed the recent events detailed to her. Its state reminded her of the current Imperium’s state through far less poor for it. The most concerning informational bits were about the church’s radical members and the fact she had no idea which side her distant family resided on. If they were aligned with Manshrew’s forces, things could become very complicated and dangerous for her future especially if one of her primary connections were completely wiped out.
She inhaled through her nostrils and let her frame relax. A hard to read expression crossed her face, through it might’ve been because she was half Elven, before she spoke with an appropriate tone, “I appreciate your information and update over the current events on Formaroth. I have to admit what rumors I received from the few sailors that cross into our realm were poor in information. I aim to put this new knowledge to good use and try my best not to step on toes, but I have to admit being a merchant isn’t easy.”
With fingers gripping a fold of her dress, Dyril then bit her lip in thought for a moment. Things were much more complicated for her now. Letting that realization wash over and settle, like sand on a river bank, she then noticed the Little Reed Inn gradually coming into view. It seemed their conversation was coming to a close and best thing to do was to wrap bid her farewell and move on.
“I believe our stop is arriving and I will take anymore of your time than I already have,” Dyril answered then bowed her head a bit in an Elven show of respect.
“Indeed.” Lana stated before continuing in a slightly less formal tone. “If it is possible, I would like to be kept up to date should you leave the city in the near future. Though I have not the time this day to consider a purchase, I may in the near future. I am also quite curious about your companion… I have never seen nor heard of her like in this land. You are welcome in Thale Manor - my home - while you are in this city.” It wasn’t an offer she would extend to just any random merchant… But this was not a random merchant. Elven merchants were rare, not unheard of in Nyhem, but rare all the same. Half-elves though, were extremely rare, and the odd creature with Dyril deserved to be learned about. After all, what kind of scholar could she claim to be if she didn’t at least try to chronicle the unusual things in the world around her?
“I’ll be sure to keep some of my best stock set aside in that case,” Dyril said and let a brief show of surprise at the mention of Kiseo, her eyes turned to the Mao for a moment and then back before she continued her conversation, “I believe Kiseo herself has several questions herself as her body language has been literally screaming it since we met you. If you would like ask her any questions, she would be more than happy to answer it. She understands Formaroth decently, but speaking is harder for her and please understand misunderstandings in some word meanings can occur.”
At the mention of her name, Kiseo’s head jerked back to the two females within the carriage. Through it had stopped, her interest was now drawn to the conversation and quickly nodded slightly when she realized what Dyril was referring to.
“Try to improve, I am. Practice much appreciate, I like,” Kiseo answered in her broken attempts to relay she was at least trying to improve.
Dyril sighed slightly but made no more comment on the facts displayed, “If you would like, I can send Kiseo during reasonable times so you both can satisfy your curiosity. She needs to deliver the list of goods too later which will solve two things with one trip. Would this be alright with you, Magister?”
“Indeed it would.” Lana replied as the carriage came to a halt. “It has been pleasant meeting you. I hope you find what you are looking for in this city.”
Dyril made one last bow with her head before she turned to her companion. Kiseo was already reaching for the door and popped it open, stepping down before she reached behind her in order to assist her mistress. Taking the offered ‘paw’ the half elven woman casually exited onto the stone walkway facing the Little Reed Inn.
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