Fading Memory
Rabidporcupine
Izurich
dragonpiece
Breezi
Force and Fury
Creative Chaos
Fetzen
BlackRoseSiren
The final hours of the evening were quiet and reflective. Leon sat laid back on the windowsill of his bedroom, playing into the open night air. There was too much to consider, too much to stress about. Sure he had some talent in knowing what people wanted, but trying to get his head around this situation stretched his mind to its limits. He felt like no more than a young child trying to grasp the complexities of this world while those who knew more pulled the strings. For the first time in his life, Leon felt anxiety. It was a feeling he had never known before, so he could do little but pluck at the string of his lute hoping they would eventually fade.
The battle for Eskand's ruler had concluded with a boom. Not that Leon had any knowledge of what it was. He could only see the aftermath of it in the distance before the rolling thunder broke upon his room's window. To Leon, that sound only meant one thing. The approaching winds of war had just arrived.
He best head to bed.
Leon's morning routine started much like any other. Wake up, get dressed, style hair, adorn jewellery, and meditate outside for a good few hours. In fact, by the time Leon got notice of the Doge's request, there was very little time until he was due for the meeting.
Wasting no time on meaningless tasks such as putting on a shirt, Leon rushed off toward the Doge's accommodations. He couldn't slow down too much for idle chit chat, but he was able to pick up some details, news and rumour alike, of last night's event. Little of it was surprising but it still sickened Leon to his core.
Maurizio was not one for clandestine manoeuvrings - not unless they were strictly necessary - and this was reflected in the fact that he had simply told Leon Solaire to come up to the Doge's door. Perhaps it was a political play too, though. There were rumours, of course: scurrilous and awful ones that sought to tar Prospero Malatesta with the murder and attempted murders of his rivals. That they could think he would be so unrefined - so obvious! It was insulting. He sipped from a tall glass of water and glanced up at the clock on the wall.
When Leon arrived, he found guards surrounding the Doge's villa. At least a handful had some use of The Gift. These closed in around him, barring his entry.
He paused a safe distance from the guards, taking in the sight. Precautions needed to be taken in such uncertain times, particularly when you are falsely accused of having caused them. Leon believed, at least, that the Doge had not been the sole perpetrator, but others would not view him in such a positive light. So the level of guards was understandable.
What wasn't understandable was the guards standoffish nature to a known ally of the Doge. Leon chuckled to himself. "You must be joking, right? Do you presume to stop the Doge's awaited guest?"
A tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway, silhouette resolving into a human being... or not quite. It was the same servant girl from last time: the yasoi. She was dressed differently, though, almost martially, her long black hair gathered into a loose ponytail draped over one shoulder. "Pentad's sake, you savages. That's Leon Solaire. Let him through." Her accent was one that even Leon, despite his travels, was unaccustomed to hearing. The guards parted immediately, stiffly, eyes darting amongst themselves. "Sorry about them," she said with a smile, glancing over her shoulder at Leon, eyes lingering perhaps a moment too long. "They're constructs, the poor sops.. and they don't even know it yet." She shook her head and rolled her eyes, leading him inside. "Oh, by the way, I'm Ismet'ych'lahin'dichora." She pursed her lips. "You can call me Ismette, though."
"The show of force was less than necessary I have to admit." Leon said following a drawn-out sigh. "Nevertheless, it's nice to see you again. First time I have a name to the face. It's a nice one, I have half a mind to ask you on a date if the circumstances weren't so tense." He meant it, Leon gave off a smile as she turned her head away to lead him down toward the Doge.
As Ismette's head turned and her gaze was off of Leon, his expression reverted to reflect his actual mood. The smile gave away to a stern expression and a furrowed brow. Those guards didn't so much as recognise him and what was that comment on constructs. They don't even know it yet? It was another point on the list that bothered Leon. Could the allegiances of the Doge's guard really be so fickle as to hold him at the gates like that? If so, could he really feel safe around them?
Thoughts like that flooded Leon's head as he walked through the passage. But whenever Ismette looked toward him, he was all smiles.
Ismette, of course, smiled right back, for what else could she do? "Were things any different," she replied, "I might take you up on that." She smiled wanly and led him through a double door. She wasn't all that interested in humans, truth be told. They were such stubby things. Still, he was handsome by their standards and troubled and that was how she liked them. "Try to keep that smile of yours up," she added, pausing before the patio door, "he could use it right now." With that, she pushed them open. "Leon Solaire, my Lord Doge."
Prospero was sitting there quietly in repose: clearly a man in thought. At Leon's entrance, he glanced up and offered a perfunctory smile. "Thank you, Ismette. As soon as you can, luncheon, please."
She bowed, and Leon thought he could pick up something... unpracticed about it, maybe even roguish or mocking, but that would be a stretch. "Right away, milord," she replied, and quickly disappeared, shutting the door behind her with a soft 'click'.
The Doge rose and clasped his hands behind his back. There was no greeting. He seemed distracted. "We have been played for fools," he announced, and Leon could feel his patron's favoured sound-deadening spell take effect once more. Prospero nodded tightly. "Well, I have. You bear no fault, of course."
"You, having been tricked? If you don't mind me asking, to what capacity have you been tricked? Surely, you knew the actions at the conclave would spark conflict." Leon took a seat near the Doge. "Or are you really telling me that you had no part in the conclave's result?"
"Oh, that I knew." Prospero smiled grimly. "The thing is, I think Rouis knew as well. I think Rouis planned for it, and those moves were... very much not public information. Sure, Horik made a show of taunting him, but those two were in bed together." He leaned against the balustrade for a moment and crossed his arms. "You know, I'd have actually failed had they stood together, which leads me to a conclusion that I don't like: the Perrench let me take their seat. Seems they and the Eskandish think there's value in being the victims. Seems Rouis wanted something to galvanize his people, and he got it." The Doge half-turned, gazing out over the quiet section of the city in which his villa was located. "I've gotten careless: an old dog with no new tricks. I'd thought Rouis a blunt instrument because I've so consistently outsmarted him, but I've cause to believe it was a gambit on his part. Even that girl - the Perrench girl who stood up and started singing - was too perfect a coincidence. It was planned. Penny Pellegrin: as a fellow student, you wouldn't know anything about her, would you?"
Leon gave out a sigh after the explanation. "With all due respect, the complexities of politics are lost on me nor do I care to learn them. No matter what plays they decided to make at the conclave, the result remains the same does it not? They are going to wage war because they lost their shiny seats. Whether their people are riled up and singing songs will hardly matter when the fighting starts, no?"
"So, I must say I'm confused that you are asking about a fellow student of mine. All she did was stand up and sing. It seems quite understandable given the circumstance. Or do you suppose there is a higher significance to it all?"
Prospero found himself equal parts irked and amused by the boy's reaction, but one wouldn't have been able to see it from his expression or body language. "People fight wars not because things happen, but because they feel some way about what has happened," he said simply. He'd at least have expected a performer to have understood something like that. "But I suppose this is your way of telling me that you don't have an answer," he concluded. "It's no matter... or one for the people I pay to look after those things for me." He'd more or less fed Leon the significance of it all, so either the youth was uncooperative or else he was not so bright as Prospero had thought.
Do people fight wars because they feel like fighting them? Leon found the idea absurd. People fight wars because their leader waves a shiny stick and they don't really have a say in the matter. That's how Leon saw it anyway. They can be as for or against it as they like, but the result remains the same. Perhaps the Doge really has begun slipping. Leon pondered behind a mask of smiles as he went to pick up an apple.
But maybe he had a point, Leon doubted himself. Was it not the true desire of all to seek peace? Maybe it is the desire of most and a show of injustice was needed to bring them to war.
An appetizer arrived presently: bruschetta in the Livernian style, and the Doge ushered Leon to the table. They had only just seated themselves, and the Doge was reaching for his first serving when the air prickled with a subtle intake of magic. A forearm-sized shard of what appeared to be rough-hewn metal hurtled towards him from due east and a second for Leon from a slightly different direction.
Leon was just able to dodge the projectile, but his apple wasn't so lucky. Whoever just tried to kill him got a bullseye on the juicy fruit as it flew by into the wall behind him. Leon spent little time finding cover behind his chair and getting low down to avoid further danger. "Well shit, guess the failed kings aren't the only ones with assassins on their backs. What's the plan Doge?"
Prospero was not proud of himself, but he froze for a moment. It was imperative that no harm come to Leon. He could not allow inaction on his part to leave his hands stained with the youth's blood. "Ismette, in a word." More projectiles flew at them from other directions but the Doge was already drawing. Part of the bannister and all of his meal disintegrated. Shields materialized out of thin air and blocked the projectiles. His skills as a Binder had not atrophied so greatly. He drew the energy from a third wave and, with a kinetic push, shoved the door open. "Inside!" he shouted at Leon. "And if you've any talent for invisibility, now's the time to use it." Indeed, it appeared that the enemy was closing in. At least four nondescript figures, dressed in casual nondescript clothing, were climbing up towards the balcony. Presently, one leapt, grabbed hold of the railing, and pulled himself over.
Something told Leon that he shouldn't show his capabilities to the Doge or the oncoming attackers. His natural instinct is to save them for the most surprising moment like a performer. However, the prospect of giving away information on his own abilities was one that would make him weaker in future encounters. Surely these assailants had no chance of actually succeeding here.
Reaching into a pouch on his side, Leon pulled out three multi-coloured marbles each nesting between the fingers of his right hand. Without delay, he threw them toward the would-be assassins and took a run for the door.
The marbles in flight would gradually shrink and implode as if they were eating themselves. But a growing light emitting from them and the sound of gathering energy made it clear what they were. The products of Binding magic, and volatile ones at that. The balcony erupted in piercing multicoloured light, temporarily blinding anyone who wasn't looking away.
Leon's trick worked a charm. Two of the assailants stumbled, disoriented. The third and fourth paused. Then, in stepped Ismette. It was not hard to feel the magic both drawn and dispelled. All four collapsed, unconscious. The reason woman strode past, flicking some hair over a shoulder, and picked the Doge's table up in a kinetic grasp. This, she hurled at a nearby balcony, and it struck a figure crouching there, knocking it unconscious. It tumbled into some bushed below. Prospero rose to his full height, blinking away the afterimage of Leon's display. Even though he had turned away, the flash had still nibbled at the edges of his vision.
He clapped the youth on the shoulder. "Well done, my boy. Well done indeed." He drew his hand back, twisting around to scan his surroundings. "And you, Ismette. Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied, with no formality whatsoever. Was that simply the yasoi way? In any event, Prospero continued, after pursing his lips briefly. "That said, this was amateurish stuff." He shook his head. "Unless there is something I'm missing, they couldn't have imagined they'd succeed..." He spared an uneasy glance at Leon. "It is then my working theory that someone is trying to set us, leaders, at each other's throats. They are fanning the flames, looking to capitalize on any ill-feeling leftover from what were purely political manoeuvrings yesterday." His voice turned solemn. "I have fought wars before when I had to, but I do not like them. I do not like deaths. Somebody is trying to start a war, I fear."
"It would appear that way." Leon patted off his clothes from any dirt it may have collected in the short scuffle. Someone trying to start a war was certain, whether the Doge was truly against them Leon was still deciding. "I believe that concludes the lunch. I'm afraid I have studies this afternoon to attend to."
"Some luncheon," Prospero snorted. "I shall make amends for it at some point. For now, however, take some pastries from Rodrigo as you leave." He was going to offer Leon a place listening to the recording that had been made - even now it was being decoded - but he decided not to. The boy was so disaffected as to have lied. There were no classes on Lepdes afternoons. He smiled easily enough, shook Leon's hand, and sent him on his way. "Do you think we can trust him?" Maurizio asked, appearing beside the Doge. Prospero shook his head gently. "Should I have him monitored?" the head guard prodded but, again, the Doge shook his head. "He will serve our purpose well enough as he is: people have seen and will hear how I was nearly assassinated this day. They will now cast their gaze elsewhere when looking for someone to blame."
For a moment, Maurizio looked at him hesitantly. "Out with it, man," Prospero sighed. "Do we know who was actually behind it?" the big man asked and, for the third time, he was met with a gently shaken head. "No, but I have some idea. It appears that one of our allies might not be a friend after all." He clasped his hands behind his back, businesslike, and pivoted. "For now though, go see to our Rezaindians. Make sure they are well healed, fed, and paid. We may yet need their services again."
Leon had been rude to have dismissed himself from the Doge that quick. Even if his trust in the leader was on the rocks, this was a big mistake. He guessed he could chalk it up to the stress of almost having his life taken plus there would be one task he would do for the Doge. Penny Pellegrin. Whether the Doge's intentions were pure or not, he had marked out a fellow student. This meant that she had some significance and was worth keeping an eye on. Luckily as it happened, they were to be in the same group. Could the Doge have played some part in that, Leon chuckled at how convenient it was.
Leon exited the building with the details of his birth in hand, but he was in no rush to read it yet.
At least Leon wasn't lying. Although classes were off for the day, he was continuing his studies. The encounter today further confirmed that Leon needed a way not only to escape to safety but truly defend himself. To do so he would need to study an aspect of the Arcane that he had only dipped his toes into before. Leon would need to learn to wield fire.
