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The Heartwood
Dawnview Vale
Snowgate Keep, Snowgate Hall
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Tiger

Lyric and Eleni, then Daxia, Cesare, Anatoli, Kisa, Nadya, Rishka, Slink, and those partaking of Eleni's Court

"Yet, yet, yet...

"That is the story of my life, all in Dayala's coveted walnut shell, set aside on the shelf, and not just anyone but the top one that's hardest to reach and most easily forgotten. Which raises the most important question. Does Dayala have a shelf? Or a cupboard at that? On the one hand, it seems a very silly thing for a Goddess to have. On the other hand, a Goddess can have anything in the world, and so who are we to say she doesn't have one?"

The young Khorall let out a long breath.

"Nadya gets annoyed when I ask questions like that. She says it only goes to show that I am a scatterbrain. But yet, anyone who has been around Dominic for a time knows that the Gods and Goddesses are real and do things that are both inscrutable and so very, very obvious. For example, setting you here with me. Was this chance or was someone looking out for you? I like to think of it as the latter, you know. That there is more to life than a roll of the dice, that things have a meaning, and that, in the end, it's to make us better and nicer than hurt or dead. Does that mean I have no choice in what I do? Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe it's a matter of trust.

"If we believe in them, so they in return trust us to do what's right?"

Elini lifted her head, straightened and leaned back. She then smiled at Lyric.

"Trust."

She stretched a bit, letting her head fall back.

"Maybe that's all you need. Exiled, hurt, driven from your little village, and now you are here. Well, then, Lyric, someone has trusted you to take this journey, to find this Song. I think that may be what weighs more heavily on you than grief. Grief is like a rock that's tied to your leg. If you can't cut that rope by yourself, well, you just haven't found someone to help you do that. And that's fine because that is inherently hopeful. That each day is not one more day of grief, but one more day closer to when it no longer hold you down. Trust, however, never goes away.

"It makes you responsible.

"And that's even scarier."

She reached out to the side, and there, waiting for her, was a wooden goblet filled with cider. Somewhere in their conversation, her manservant had silently returned. She lifted the goblet and sipped.

"Except, of course, it also means that someone, someone out there is doing the trusting. That they believe in you. And come the coldest night, which we have here quite a bit, that may not warm your hands, but it can warm a cold heart. It's assured, knowing you are out here, learning about everything.

"Now here is a ponder for you, Lyric, one you should also remember. You have passed through the gates of this keep and have been granted the right to travel through Dawnview Vale. That's because I do trust you. So here's the thing you need to decide... I know, I know the answer, but it — like your story — means nothing if I have to tell it to you. I have listened, and I have heard, and it will be interesting to see if the young Rhoni lass has the same understanding. Do I trust you because it is my duty as Khorall...

"...or do I trust you because you are a new friend?"

Letting out a long breath, the young Noble slumped in her chair and looked at her mug of cider.

"And do you know what this means?

"It means it's almost time for Court."

And that was true. They were no longer alone. Along the edges of the hall, preparations were being made — banners straightened, the wooden thrones at the end of the hall set up, the hearth stirred and the curtains in the gallery above thrown back to let in the midday light. The stained glass painted the room in soft, cool colors — various shades of blue seemed to be a favorite of the keep's original builders. Once the impending court had been vocalized by Snowgate's mistress, Anatoli became a bit more apparent, clearing away the dishes and platters related to the day's first meal and replacing them with tall carafes of water and cold kavass. Even Nadya made her presence known, walking up behind Eleni with a scowl.

"How many times have I told you, no guests for breakfast, young woman. It always ends the same. You bore them with your chatter all morning, and now you are not fit for a proper Court. Now, let me at the very least straighten out that mop of tangles you call hair — thank the Goddess you decided to cut it short, or we would be here all day. Anatoli, a cloth and water, bys-bys."

Eleni rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh.

"And at the very least, Lyric, you don't have to put up with this! But it could be worse..."

A third person walked up behind the Khorall. The elder sister simply crossed her arms and spoke a single frosty word.

"Propriety."

Eleni squeaked.

"Kitten!"

Then she looked back at Lyric.

"Fine, it's worse."

In the end, it was all settled. Interestingly, the setup for Eleni's Court was something that Lyric had never seen before. There were three tall and ornately carved chairs at the head of the hall, on a small dais and backed by the banners of both Dawnview Vale and Snowgate Keep. The center chair was set back from the other two, and this was the one Kisa had settled into. The one reserved for the Khorall of the entirety of Dawnview Vale. The chair to the left was claimed by Nadya, as befitted her place as the Snowgate's high counselor. The last, despite Nadya's glare and acknowledged by Kisa's wry and very elder sister smile, remained empty.

The center of the hall was not empty, as most courts between the glaciers and the Archipelago. The large table remained. That was where Eleni remained. She sat at the side of the table, not at the head or foot. She seemed confident about that. As if there was a very particular reason why she had chosen that particular chair.

Eleni looked toward the side, nodding once more to Lyric.

"You may stay here if you wish. It's fine. Or you can stand with my Sister's Knight. She should be here any moment."

Eleni looked very happy when lyric chose to stay with her.

Then her Guard arrived and took their places. This too was different and it took Kisa, Eleni, and Nadya by surprise. First, Snowgate's Captain wasn't present — instead, her place was taken by Daxia. And next to Daxia was a very finely appointed Dayalan, tall and with black hair. She was dressed in light armor over which were worn tunics of black. The undertunic was boldly trimmed by silver key and her surcoat by two vertical bars of whites. Her choice of weapons was a greatsword, which she held in two leather gauntleted hands, one on the hilt and one about a foot along the blade. That section was un-sharpened and marked by two triangles off steel.

Only one would spy the third guard. She was lazily sprawled along the gallery railing, so much like a cat sleeping in the sun. Directly above Eleni, she actually did appear to be snoozing.

The table took up the upper third of the hall, leaving the lower third for those awaiting audience.

And the lower third very quickly filled as the doors were thrown open. That was where the Captain was, along with a blonde Initiate. It seemed their post was on the outside with the role of gatekeepers. It was a small crowd made up of various sorts. There were five men dressed very finely, looking impatient and proud, as if they had been waiting longer than they believed their importance should warrant. Two farmer families were looking at each other fiercely, and a pragmatically dressed man carried a huge bouquet of flowers. There were a pair of merchants and their guardsmen and last, a lonely and worried looking servant.

Cesare was able to enter with the others and find a place to watch among those waiting at the back half of the hall.

What followed was both amusing and intriguing.

Of course, the finely appointed ones worked their way around the table to approach the dais. And they were immediately halted. First, by the so-called sleepy Dayalan rising one hand straight up and calling out a single word.

"Hold!"

That, and they found themselves facing Anatoli, who was a bit more polite.

"My Lords?"

It took them a heartbeat to realize what they were being asked, and then, with a nod for propriety, they divested themselves of their daggers and knives, leaving them stacked at the end of the table. Only then were they given leave — the cat-like Dayalan waving her hand from above to grant passage — to approach the dais. Which they did, bowing low when they reached their destination.

Kisa just smiled. Then Eleni spoke up.

"I'm over here."

The far-away lordlings looked surprised. Eleni pointed to the chairs that were in front of her.

"Come, sit. Like civilized folks. There's water and kavass in case your throats get parched listening to me. You are the representatives from Trundle-on-the-Hill, ja?"

What followed was a very animated discussion concerning relations, propriety and the balance of trade between the keeps. Eleni listened, riposted, poked and prodded with her rambling questions. Kisa's head just tilted slightly as if she noted something slightly amiss, but could not see where those falling tiles lead. Then Eleni swooped in like a hunting Mountain Hawk.

"Well, of course, all things should be fair, equitable and the matter of courses stayed along their proper courses, and the real reason you are here is because one of your merchants — let us say accidentally — sold two wagons full of rice plants without telling you, and now that the cat has not only ripped itself off of the sack but has run away who knows where, and you want me to not only find said cat but give it back to you?"

There was a long moment of quiet.

"I shall grant your boon."

The Trundle merchants smiled.

"I promise to take up the matter at our next meeting with the Imperial Viceroy."

On their way out, after retrieving their weapons, one of the Trundle representatives spoke, very dryly and harshly, to the other, waiting merchants.

"May you have better fortune than us."

Rishka almost broke her concentration at that. But, biting her lower lip, she returned to her appointed task.

Next was the cook, who looked rather quiet as she took the chair directly across from her Khorall, looking down and not saying anything.

"Miss Heather. I am not mad about the cream. What I want to know is where all those slinks came from?"

The cook whispered.

"They's just slinks, ma'am. You cannot tell a slink where to go, that's why it's so nice when they rub against your legs because they want to be with you and all."

Eleni nodded.

"Or they want cream."

The cook swallowed.

"Well, they's just cats, ma'am. You cannae blame them for being slinks and likin' cream because it's what slinks like. Like mice and rats. We ain't had a mouse or rat — except for the young miss last night, and she's too big and too nice to be et — in the kitchens ever since they be comin' round. They are harmless, really, please don't get mad at them, well, because they are just slinks being slinks."

The Khorall just tilted her head.

"You like them, don't you, Miss Heather."

The cook's eyes went wide, and she choked, having been caught. She just looked down at the floor, silent.

"Have the seneschal order a few more buckets of milk from now on. If I can have one lazy slink, you can have a bunch of hard-working ones."

The cook looked surprised and then could not help but smile brightly.

As for the flowers, Eleni just placed her forehead on the table for a long moment. Looking up at their bearer, she just sighed.

"Does he even like me? I mean, really? I don't know what Mother or my Aunt are thinking, but really. He's sending me flowers, and he's never even met me. Does he even know you are doing this for him? You just blinked. He doesn't, does he? Is my Mother sending him cute little daggers in my name? I bet crowns for stars she is. Well, it just has to stop. One, I am too young for courting, despite what our respective parents might say. Second, I am an Allaine, and we choose who we marry. And if he and you are really serious about this, you can put him on one of your well-trained horses and have him come out and actually visit me!

"Who knows, we may even like each other. That would be a wonder now, wouldn't it? Don't you think it's time my Mother and your Khorall started to trust either one of us? Oh, don't answer that. I know you will just nod your head and say whatever you think I want to hear and when you go out those doors just say I am a silly girl.

"Well, I may be. But I'm a Khorall. You will have to get used to that, ja?"

Bowing politely, the Kierkegaard matchmaker's apprentice stepped away before he got into more hot water. And yes, Eleni had one more thing to say.

"Leave the flowers."

That left the Brementown merchants. They, too, were held at the tables end, their weapons stacked safely aside before being allowed to approach either of the two Allaine sisters. Again, Eleni started by listening, and with each word spoken both her and Kisa's expression darkened.

"Let me make sure I am understanding this correctly. The Road East is now a toll road? And this occurred, what, a few months after the Court? Fine. And you are talking to me, why? Because you expect me to not only pay more crowns to send our goods to Trundle but to also include a Brementown gratuity to ensure there will be no troubles or delays at the crossing point? Don't you already know what my answer will be?"

Then it was Eleni's turn to be surprised, as the Brementown merchants rose and retreated.

"Of course."

Her fingers drummed on the table as they walked away. She shot a glance at her sister, whose face was also so very still. And yet all the Brementown folk did was collect their weapons and head out the door. It was like they knew just how much they were not wanted. Rishka then broke her orders, her attention suddenly shifting from Kisa to Eleni.

"Tchaaaaaaaaaaaa ..."

It was a quiet exclamation from the black-haired Dayalan. Something was definitely not right. Perhaps it also acted as a warning.

All these little things adding together into a whole would best explain how Daxia was able to suddenly step aside when the merchant guard — using the pretext of re-belting his sword — instead let belt and scabbard drop to the stone threshold when he attempted to drive his shortsword into her gut.

His target was not Kisa. Not Eleni.

But Daxia.

[OOC How far away is Cesare from Daxia? I cannot imagine what he might do but sit there and do nothing is not an option. ]

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

Her hand was at the hilt of her sword as Kisa’s expression began to darken. Daxia couldn’t read the patterns as expertly as Kisa could, but her lesser skill combined with years of training, of honing reflexes and instincts, told her there was something dangerous here. Her eyes flickered from Kisa’s face to Eleni’s to the merchants at the table — once, twice, thrice.

And as the merchants and their guards walked back toward the door, she saw... something. There was something in their eyes, their bearing, the way they gave up far too easily.

Merchants from Brementown. There’s no such thing...

It would have been hard to say who was most surprised by the Starlord’s movement — she was drawing her sword before she could have fully registered the guard as a threat.

While it might have been difficult to point to the most surprised person in the room, the one person who most assuredly wouldn’t have been surprised was Cesare. He’d seen her swordwork on multiple occasions.

Daxi was pivoting back as she raised the sword, as Rishka was making her exclamation. And then, as the guard moved passed her, she brought the sword down hard, striking the man’s arm with the preternaturally sharp blade and the not inconsiderable strength of her sword arm. She felt the tug, the catch of blade on bone, and pulled the sword back. He was well and truly injured, and unless he had some pain-mitigating magic or herbs, he wasn’t an immediate threat.

She never liked being the leader, the one to whom others looked. But just because she didn’t like, that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at it.

“Slink, to Eleni. Cesare... to Kisa and Nadya.”

The sword was up and she was turning toward the other three Brementown miscreants. It was time to see how TeeCee had trained her Initiates.

The Knight of Dawnview Castle spoke oh so calmly, oh so quietly as she stared at the so-called merchants and the second guard. She could well have been commenting on the day’s fine weather or the price of spidersilk thread in the Market.

“Take care of the trash there, Rishka, if you please.”

She smiled at the three men who were just out of reach; it was not a nice smile, not at all. It was certainly something Kisa had never seen before, although she might have noted hints of it in Dorian Korie’s Council Hall.

“Do not...

“Try...

“My...

“Patience.”

Hired guards — whether disreputable Jvrillians or independents — might have had some experience standing with a sword pointed at them, but it would be on the far side of unusual for the sword to be the milky white of Ironsilver. Merchants who were agents of a Noble who hated her guts probably had less experience at being threatened by an angry Dayalan — but, to be sure, a very calmly angry Dayalan.

Cesare

There is a certain tension in the chamber but nothing he can quite put his finger on. Still is is more alert than usual, looking for what is bothering him.

He sees the start of an attack! Daxia! And is about to rush to her defence though he knows she is unlikely to need it, however, she perceives a possible secondary threat and he knows that if he can free her mind of worry, that will be a big help in itself.

He is on his feet and running, ready to dodge, magically or otherwise, so that he can get where he is going, even before she has finished speaking. Once there his intention is to turn to face the room, backs to the people he wants to protect, daggers in both hands.

And he thought he might be bored..?

Last night I was passing dark moor and sweet meadow.
I chanced by the barrows as the moon it sank low
and paying no heed to the old bitty's stories
as the mist rolled around through the downs I did go.
At first my steps lightly did carry me whistling
a frolicsome jig, just to keep my head high
But I stopped!---
When the hairs on my neck took to pricklin'
When from over my shoulder there came a strange cry...

Lyric, of choices and stories... and the moment in time for each




No more meaningful a question could exist right now between the two women. At the heart of Eleni's want and need was Trust. And it matched Lyric's own, despite the obstacles she placed in the path of those who still found a way to do so where the Minstrel was concerned. To Trust and be Trusted. To Care For and Be Cared For. To Love and be Loved.

Trust was hard for Lyric. It was not a natural commodity where she came from. In fact, it was a manufactured one, woven and held fast in rules and oaths and bindings of intentions and fealties. If that was even Trust at all... The Minstrel had been taught a valuable but hard lesson in Trust and then sent out so very vulnerable to a wider world with no choice but to Trust. And what she discovered, beyond a truer meaning for Trust was just how hard it was to be worthy of Trust.

"We all must follow our hearts where such things are of import," she said to herself, wishing she could have said it aloud. And yes, as Eleni then stated it was time for Court.

"You may stay here if you wish. It's fine. Or you can stand with my Sister's Knight. She should be here any moment."



She made her choice with a nod and a gesture at the seat beside the young Khorall. To be offered seemed an answer to the question Eleni posed. Lyric shifted her mandola to the selected chair. It would have been hard to hide the beaming smile in this moment. It was going to be a new experience and she would be as close as she could have ever hoped to be to witness the events of Court. Maybe other would find it boring and tedious. But Lyric knew better. She was an expert at living a life filled with the 'boring and tedious'.

She admired the young woman's skill with words and the ability to punctuate a moment, as though Eleni were a storyteller herself. Lyric did not understand the politics at play but those from north along these Black Mountains thought they might have bested a young noble negotiator in her own realm but her final remark, a qualification to her allowance, deflated them. There was something notable in this condition being set upon a conversation with an Imperial Viceroy that was both palpable and yet unexpected... that is, until it was said. Lyric had lived to understand people's reactions, the language their eyes and body spoke. It was a gift that helped her tell stories and sing songs. She could read people. Eleni's own Gift gave her a prowess unmatched in this regard. These men came to challenge her in trade based upon her age and youthful inexperience and she read them, allowed them to believe they had the upper hand, and ended their debate. They would have to depart, maybe reconsider, and then make a new offer, a better offer now. or, travel a long journey to their home empty handed.

Lyric witnessed Eleni exercise a heart of compassion, in a gesture that tightened the Minstrel's throat and wet her eyes as khorall spoke with the cook about cats. The Khorall found the positive in a situation that some might deem a nuisance, and she gave the woman the responsibility to manage it for the good of both the kingdom and of the old woman's lonely soul.

Next came the Flowers and the Matchmaker's apprentice. Lyric watched and listened as Eleni revealed her own heart, just a little, for those with the keeness of wisdom and openness of heart to see and hear what was behind and beyond the words themselves. Young as she might be, Eleni was resolved to stand firm on the desire of her heart to choose her path, not only in matters of state but also matters of love. If someone wanted to Court her, it would be in the open, free of games and pretense. It would take courage to assume a risk and make the effort to win the Khorall's attention. Take the risk and maybe win the heart.

Lyric thought to reflect for a moment on some of these things, love and friendship, compassion and honor, courage and conviction. This pulled at the threads of her emotions in ways she had felt before since her Questing Journey had begun. They were all a bit of a jumble to her, but she realized that having her emotions in a jumble made her feel things and not control things.

From living a life where she has never had a friend, at all, ever... to now, where she could count an ever-growing number gave her a glimpse into the heart of her Quest. How could these things not be a part of what might save her people. She, herself, was already beginning to feel that her own life had been changed deeply and profoundly. Maybe even saved, if she understood the meaning of that concept yet.

But then approached the merchants from a place called Brementown. It sounded as if this place was close because there was a tension in the relationship where trade was concerned. Lyric focused more on Eleni than on the men. Oh, for certain she watched their every move, and heard the tone in their every word. But it wasn't the content of the words that mattered to Lyric. The words themselves were just words, about things Lyric didn't understand. What she saw and heard were the people around her, facing each other, merchant and Khorall. And even the heir. For when Eleni darkened, her sister was doing likewise. Lyric quickly understood that Dawnview Vale and Brementown were not allies and that this meeting was not a normal occurrence.

She heard them speak, and she heard Eleni reiterate the same words for clarity sake between them. Lyric listened as well. Eleni was using kind language to describe extortion. The kind of thing that bandits might pull on a lonely stretch of road. Or rather, an extortion effort disguised as protection from the very same extortion that might befall a person should they not pay. It sounded criminal to say the least, but crime and the laws that prevented surely varied from place to place. Still, it took a considerable hubris to come before the Khorall to tell them they must pay a fee for protection from bandits when the bandits and protectors sounded like they were one and the same... and everyone gathered in the hall knew it. Lyric wished she understood the politics better and maybe this would be much clearer to her, but it wasn't her place to be anything more than a friend given the honor of sitting at the side of a friend.

So Lyric watched and listened. And then she understood. No, there had been no revelation about the relationship between Brementown and Dawnview Vale. What she now understood was the nature of the meeting. Lyric's eyes shifted side to side. She took in all four of the men assembled as a delegation before Eleni. Lyric read them. And then she lokked around the whole of the chamber. At the eyes and faces of others in the hall. She looked at the hall itself. Pieces to a puzzle she had put together in the past. Maybe even many times, in one form or another. So many times, so many variations, it was like a game. Serious and deadly, but without emotional context anymore.

This was different. Lyric could feel it. She could feel her pulse quicken, her senses sharpen. This felt more real, right now, in this moment, than such a remembrance of similar moments had ever felt. it felt as real as that moment when they approached Faast Keep in the Remnant of the Great Forest, as real as when she faced the giant feral weasel beast. As real as seeing One Fang so gravely injured. As real as turning back to help the Pack face the Dwarves.

This was a trap.

Lyric tried to put the pieces together in her head. The same mind that had constructed the plan to assault that fell keep was now racing to unravel a plot and plan that was not of her own design. This plot was already underway, the plan was in motion. The pieces were in play, right before her, across the table from the khorall.

They were disarmed though, so a clean assassination was hardly the move. The four were deep inside the hall, with more guard behind them than in front of them. But, again, they did not have their weapons available to them as they stood so very close to Eleni, and even Kisa. They would never get out of the place alive. That might not be part of their plan though. A sacrifice for their cause. Oh, again Lyric wished she understood the politics.

her eyes darted, but she held her composure. She was a guest, given an honor, to sit beside the Khorall. If she was wrong then she could spoil delicate negotiations by disrupting the 'dance of words' between Eleni and the merchanters. She held herself in check.

Kisa and the Court Councillor behind Eleni, who was at the table nearer to the center of the room. A guard overhead, with a great vantage of view but not for speed of movement. And a crowd gathered to witness the Court proceedings, those of the town of Snowgate keep or whatever it was called. Eleni's people. Petitioners come forward to be heard. To the crowd this is entertainment. Pieces to the puzzle. Most of the guards are at the back, including Daxia. Daxia is the Heir's guard and she is overseeing the whole of the security.

Lyric, think. What is the play?

Was this a half thought act of desperation to TRY to kill Kisa or Eleni? Such a thing surely couldn't hope to take them both, could it? Foolishness for certain. Look at the pieces Lyric. They were inside, in front of the Khorall. They knew they would be disarmed.




Precious moments were sliding by as Lyric found herself feeling desperate to see something that was purposefully hidden from view.



The men from Brementown rose from the table. Their words were part of a script. They knew. This was part of the plan. Another piece fell into place but the cost in time was becoming critical.

Eleni looked surprised. Maybe even confused. She too was trying to understand something now. The men gathered their possessions from the end of the table and carried them away from Eleni, further away from Kisa.

Why?

She hissed a curse in a language that was very old and very forgotten, just enough to make the words clear to Eleni. Lyric's eyes still strafed the room, back and forth, up, over, back again, a little left, then all the way right, and a little left. Seeking and searching, trying to fathom a plan she had not created.

Stop pulling at the strings Lyric. If this was your plan, what would you do next?

The Men from Brementown had passed into the crowd that parted enough to allow them access to the Hall's doorway, where the guards waited. Also where Daxia waited. With a sharpness and suddenness of motion, Lyric twisted in her seat to look at Kisa and then Eleni, right beside her, then Kisa... or rather the wall and the hearths. Her head snapped around, scanning the crowd.

A diversion. A diversion would pull everyone's attention to the back of the hall. Do the unexpected. Even if the level headed warriors and soldiers of this realm were not rattled they would have a room full of onlookers between them and the Sisters.

...to see something that was purposefully hidden from view.

In her plan, deception would be the key element. And someone in the crowd would be an enemy...

...more than one, in my plan.

What happened next was hard to see clearly, but the reactions from the people in the crowd made it clear it was dramatic and unexpected. Foolish even. One of the Guards drew his weapon and attacked Daxia. The crowd's reaction added to the Chaos. Orders were suddenly shouted. Four attackers back there had little hope of fighting all of the warriors and Keep guards, but those defenders would lose precious time doing ending the immediate and visible threat and lose even more pushing through the excited and panicked people.

Lyric had come part way out of her seat as she twisted fully to face Eleni. Her long knife was in her hand. Where she had drawn it from was a mystery because it was one of the many things lost to most eyes in the confusion at the other end of the hall. The Minstrel deftly rolled the weapon over in her hand to offer the pommel to the young Khorall.

"As a new friend, I am asking you to trust me Eleni... All of that out there is a ruse... a trap. Take my blade. Go to your sister... Protect her. NOW!"

Stepping toward her to commit Eleni to action, the unarmed Minstrel continued to speak. Her voice was calm, sharp, but quick. The need for urgency was very clear.

"Ordinary people in extraordinary moments, my friend."




(ready for a Midweek post if one is forthcoming)

The Heartwood
Dawnview Vale
Snowgate Keep, Snowgate Hall
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Tiger

Cesare, Daxia, Lyric, Anatoli, Eleni, Kisa, Nadya, Slink, and those still around partaking of Eleni’s Court


What happened first?

There were many what-happened-first, or at the least, fast enough that they fell together quicker than Kisa's stone tiles could fall, one after another after another, in a well-behaved order. But conflicts, if anything, tended to not be very well-behaved.

It started, of course, with the would-be assassin's strike, which Daxia suddenly stepped away from. If one caught a glimpse of his narrowed eyes, he obviously realized the dire situation he was in. As if he knew he had but one chance and the gods had not smiled on him this midday.

But he had no time to think beyond that.

It was a heartbeat as his arm was almost shorn in two by the Knight's white blade, so easily slicing past light leather armor and then through skin and muscle, scarring bone as Daxia drew her blade back. It was the epitome of a perfect blow. The maiming hack. And with the slash, metal was drawn through fragile flesh, dragging bits of cloth and sinew crosswise through the wound. It was a second heartbeat, that fast, as his head jerked back, mouth opening without a scream but a spray of blood as Daxia suddenly saw the far side of his tunic tent, tent and then rip as the point of a far heavier sword thrust through him.

It was an oft-thought fallacy that a greatsword could not be used in close quarters. One hand on the hilt, one hand choked up on the unsharpened portion of her sword, and it could pierce even steel. All it took was Rishka pivoting on one foot to use all her strength, feet to hips to shoulders to blade to get her attack in.

Teresa Constance had taught her charges well. Threats were to be ended.

His sword spun loose from his hand, tumbling like a tossed stick, hitting the doors before skittering across the stone floor.

Another first happened at Eleni's table. This time it began with the young Khorall looking at the offered blade, eyes first squinting, trying to figure out what was meant, without even time to reply before she was tackled. But perhaps tackled was a poor word. It was fast, it was instinctive, it was her manservant vaulting the table, scattering cups and carafes, and sending water and kavass flying everywhere, to sweep his liege off her chair and away from the table.

What happened in the next heartbeat would have raised applause if this were a Midsummer's square, where acrobats were dazzling the crowds with feats of complex gymnastics. Immediately after Anatoli had cleared the table — it could not have been timed better if they had tried — there was a loud thump, a solid thunk, and a perfect three-point landing.

Slink was no longer in the gallery.

And she was definitely not being lazy.

What she did have was a long narrow single-edged shortsword. She did not stay put either. Her nickname was well deserved. Like a Dirkwood hunter, once she had pounced from her perch, she was already charging against the next threat.

It was court. Kisa Allaine and Eleni Allaine were present. And Cesare had passed the end of the table with both of his long daggers drawn.

"I don't know you."

It was both a statement and a command, as Cesare found his path blocked by the Snowgate guard.

Teresa Constance had indeed taught her charges well.

Behind her, Anatoli proved that while he may be an excellent servant, his swashbuckling skill left quite a bit to be desired. Of course, he had tripped, and while one might definitely say he had placed himself between Eleni and danger, it was only because they had landed in a tangled sprawl with him on top. The emotions and intent were easily read by Lyric. Whatever the result, the young man had only the most honorable intentions and certainly wasn't trying to hurt his Lady.

At least not on purpose.

This left Lyric free to deal with the incident at the doors.

"KASHA!"

Rishka loudly barked out that single word as she ensured that the trash was taken care of, even if it meant putting a foot high on the now convulsing body to push and help draw her long blade back out. And for once it was Daxia that was spared. Rishka was the one who now looked as if she had been dunked in a bucket of Tomomi's thickest red paint.

When she was done, Rishka did something odd. She knelt by the body as he joined Krysta in his final dance. But it wasn't to comfort. She was tugging up the cuffs of his sleeves.

The doors began to open as Daxia turned to the two merchants and the remaining guard.

The guard had a look on his face as if he was the one most surprised at the actions of his companion. He took a single step back, placing a hand on his sword's hilt but not drawing it. His gaze was focused on Daxia, to see what her next move would be.

The two merchants stood their ground as if they were made of quarry stone. One bit his lower lip. The other just narrowed his eyes, meeting Daxia's gaze without saying a word and he didn't move. He glanced to the side when the door finished opening. There, just outside, were the two other Dayalans and a black unicorn.

Merchants tended to be pragmatic, knowing when they were outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

She was angry. And Gilly — as well as Reena and Kassia and every single other Dayalan she’d trained under or with — had admonished her to never fight with anger. But no one had ever targeted her for simply being exactly who she was — Daxia, daughter of Yuri. Yes, she’d faced those who had seen her as someone standing in their way of what they wanted, someone who was protecting someone they wanted to hurt, someone with the audacity to even attempt something as ludicrous as breaking a curse. In those incidents, she had been the right person in the right place at the right time.

This was personal.

Her eyes narrowed as she eyed the merchants and the remaining guard. She took a deep breath, held it for a heartbeat and then a second, then finally exhaled.

“What have you got there, Rishka?” Daxia didn’t look at the Initiate; her eyes barely flickered to the other end of the room. Merchants from Brementown. Such a contradiction in terms.

“Slink, I vouch for him,” she said, her sapphire eyes boring into the very souls of the men in front of her, her sword never wavering from its target — the face of the merchant who appeared to be in charge of this little group of madmen. She wasn’t sure if TeeCee’s Initiate would recognize her authority, but in this particular instance, there was no wrong answer the young woman could give... at least, regarding the Rhoni.

“Someone ought to make sure Anatoli, Goddess love the lad, hasn’t harmed himself or Eleni.”

And then, as Morning Star clop clop clopped to her side — taking great care to avoid the trash on the floor — and peered over her shoulder at the merchants and guard, Daxia exhaled the last of her anger and lowered her sword.

“I’ve heard it said that dead men tell no tales,” she said in a conversational tone to the three men in front of her. “That’s not true, you know. But you’re still alive, so you have the opportunity to explain yourselves. I’m quite interested in what you have to say, and I don’t doubt that the Khorall of Snowgate Keep and the Khorall of Dawnview Vale are similarly curious about your behavior.”

She shook her head, her expression something nearly every child in history had seen on their mother’s or grandmother’s face at one time or another — grave disappointment.

“We are all so very, very curious about your unacceptably rude behavior.” Her mouth flickered in a partial smile that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. “His Magnificence, the Immortal Unicorn known as Morning Star, is somewhat vexed that one of your party tried to kill his Companion. And there is a great deal of truth to the rumor that one should not annoy a unicorn.”

There were enough people watching the Brementown miscreants that she took the opportunity to turn her head to Morning Star and roll her eyes. “Yes, yes... ‘somewhat vexed’ is understating the depth of your annoyance. While I understand, I’m not sure mere mortal men could possibly comprehend.”

Verchovai Daxia turned her unpleasant smile on the men once more, just staring at them, waiting for answers.

Cesare

He had been ready for opposition, be it enemy or someone defending but at times like this there is little time for argument or explanation. Seconds count and this is not the first time he has put himself in harm's way at Daxia's direction.

One second he is there, the next he is past and taking up his guard position behind the sentry. His words though are soft.

"Daxia's friend. Let us protect them together."

I turned in my tracks, my cudgel was flyin'
It cut through the fog like an ol' Jvrill'n blade.
"Come Demon" I cried, but my heart was a sighin'
"We'll see if a dent in your skull can be made."

Then my arm turned icy, right up to my shoulder.
My blackthorn fell useless from my paralyzed paw.
So I lunged at the spot where the coldness seemed colder
and I tackled the first ugly thing that I saw.

Lyric, of truth and deception... and knowing one from t'other

Foolish boy, she thought as she turned enough to see Eleni's groomsman, or manservant, vault the table in a misplaced gesture of heroism. She rolled the knife again, now holding it properly, and shook her head as he tumbled Eleni over and both fell to the floor in a heap. She could see the effort for what it was. His duty mixed with his desire.

"There has to be an easier way to tell her how you feel," remarked the Minstrel before putting the fallen pair at her back.

The guard from the gallery overhead was already off the table, rushing to intercept the approach of Cesare. Lyric's eyes scanned the faces and eyes of the stunned and disquieted crowd. She looked the full length of the room and could tell that Daxia had dropped one of the Brementown Guardsman. The other three were hemmed in and contained. They appeared to have given up any interest in fighting, if they even had it with which to begin. Good choice. Reinforcements and even the Unicorn were entering the Hall now.

Lyric could go down there, hear what was being said, try to add that to her understanding.

"What a foolish plan," she whispered, mostly for her own benefit. She used her words to pace her thoughts. This wasn't her plan, so grasping the logic of it was an elusive effort. It was someone's plan though. To what end? A single guardsmen with grudge? Thus just a feeble attempt to strike at the Warrior woman at first opportunity? What good is revenge if you are dead? Unless you have nothing left to live for... NO. The whole charade before Eleni was part of the orchestration to gain admittance to this room. Lyric could still see the pieces. But pieces were missing. That was obvious to her.

"Am I wrong?" Again the whispers, as she shifted her stance and sought balance in the room. Pick a spot to see everything and be everywhere. But the hint of doubt whispered back to her now. Moving to the void between the head of the table and dais, Lyric continued to puzzle the possibilities.

Focus Lyric.

"Is this really over..."

Lyric wheeled slowly about in place, to see Eleni and Anatoli, and then to look at Kisa and Nadya. Back around to Slink and Cesare at the other end of the long table. Half the room was now very nearly empty because so much was happening at the other end of the Great Hall. She looked up to the vaulted ceiling and the Galleries that overlooked the hall from each side. Bow fire from above would be very hard to defend against now.

No longer a whisper. "Cesare... watch the galleries!"

She kept turning in place. Back around to face Kisa and Nadya, but her eyes weren't really on them. Seemingly unfocused as though she watched both doors at the same time, ears listening for any sound that wasn't true and proper in this place. Sound was her specialty. She slowed her breathing and that slowed her heartbeat.

thum.. thum.

"Eleni... get up... Now!"

The large chairs and the two women near them on the dais. The hearths. The banners. The large round window way above them. The galleries. The interior service doors on each side. Cesare and Slink should stay where they were. A line of defense. Lyric identified where all the scattered serving ware was located. Carafes. Serving trays.

thum... thum

Lyric couldn't let go of the feeling that this plan was much more elaborate than anything revealed thus far. So foolish and reckless on it's surface. By design? Deception... Distraction? Confusion? How to keep the Sisters from realizing it too soon?

An imaginary line drawn between the doors put the two woman on the opposite side of it from Lyric. She took a few more steps, slowly and patiently. arms out, low, at an angle from her body, loose, Knees bent, padding like a Wuff. She was born to be a predator, born to a people meant to be predators. Eyes shifting between the doors. Head slightly down, using all her senses, especially her hearing. But those eyes... So deeply blue they looked like they glowed. There was magic in the air.

thum.... thum

Get them all between me and Cesare.

thum..... thum

"Kisa... I don't think this is over... come to me... Both of you... now... Please?

thum....... thum

The Heartwood
Dawnview Vale
Snowgate Keep, Snowgate Hall
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Tiger

Cesare, Daxia, Lyric, Anatoli, Eleni, Kasha, Kisa, Nadya, Rishka, Slink, TeeCee, and those still around partaking of Eleni’s Court

Lyric was absolutely correct. There were two threats in the court of Eleni Allaine. Perhaps, if one were a touch cynical, there were three. But the last was over rather quickly. Eleni blinked, once, twice and then thrice. That was expected, her head had taken a sharp rap when her head had hit the floor. That, however, was not what made her eyes go wide and her cheeks a deeper red than her short hair.

"Anatoli..."

"My Lady?"

"...uhm... ah... uhm... your... uhm... hand?"

"AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

The lad immediately pushed himself backward, as fast and as hard as he could, in absolute panic. Which of course had him seeing stars, now kneeling on the floor after his had head inevitably slammed back against the big wooden table.

At the door, the original threat was resolved. Or, at the least, it had come to a stand-off that was a battle of will and words. When Daxia lowered her sword, the remaining guard removed his hand from the hilt of his sword. He did not offer a word but watched the exchange between his employers and the Dayalan like a mountain hawk. The one who had bit his lip shifted uncomfortably, looking between the other merchant and the angry Yurisdotter. The other merchant matched her gaze, still and with almost equal resolve.

"I'm shocked. Shocked that my hireling would do such a thing."

His words were smooth but oily as if that should have been a well-expected answer. The unexpected answer, however, came from Rishka. She drew up the fallen man's arm by the wrist, letting the sleeve of his tunic fall, to expose a marking inked into his forearm, a few fingers below his wrist. It was a small checkerboard.

"Krysta's cold and icy smile. When did you annoy the Imperial Guard..."

Her expression then changed, darkening, when two of her own puzzle pieces suddenly fit together.

"...may your fortunes be better than ours."

"TCHA!"

"Kasha! Those merchants, have they cleared the gates?"

The blonde Dayalan turned on her heels and vanished back into the courtyard. The dark-haired initiate then focused her attention again on Daxia.

"When did you manage to annoy House Velikii?"

Once the Captain saw that the chances of more bloodshed at the keep's threshold were no longer high, her attention snapped down the hall, to the second threat against the Allaine sisters. There was no other term to describe it. How were they supposed to react? A man had charged their Nobles, bearing steel past the Court's forbidden line. And when his path was barred by a rightful sentry, his response was to magic himself behind her, his deadly daggers still out. How could there be any other response?

Slink spun immediately on her heel, and was once again facing Cesare. This time, however, her blade was even with his neck. But she didn't need to say a thing, as a final question about Eleni's Court was answered. Would they truly have the Khorall of Allaine be without a personal guard? As his attention was elsewhere, it was Eleni who could not help but see Nadya command Kisa to the far door with a wave of her hand as she far too quietly walked up behind Cesare and their Slink. Cesare felt the blade's point — probably a very heavy dagger — at the very center of his back.

"You will place those two knives on the floor. And I recommend staying down there with them."

She then echoed Daxia's words.

"Do not...

"Try...

"My...

"Patience."

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

“Your words say one thing. Your face and tone of voice say another.” Daxia stared at the man for a moment before shifting her gaze to the other merchant and finally the remaining guard.

However, when Rishka spoke up, she raised an eyebrow in surprise and gave her attention to the Initiate.

“The Imperial Guard?” She had never been to Trundle and the only Imperials she’d met were a pair of Koromov sisters, their great-something ancestor, and Captain Koromov’s incredibly clever Deynnekko swordsman. It wasn’t until Rishka sent her sword-sister off on a task that she clarified matters.

“Oh.

“Them.”

Dazi’s voice remained calm and even, though it took on an iciness that was out of character for her.

“I suppose that would have been the end of Raven, two years past. I happened to be in a Cragside alley when some foolish individual took a tumble off a nearby roof. Captain Koromov informed me the man was a Velikii.

“If the Velikii are annoyed by the loss of someone who scampers across rooftops in the middle of the night as Storm Season is coming on, I’m surprised they didn’t burn down half the town of Cragside to punish the buildings and roofs.”

Then she shrugged as her gaze crossed the room.

Eleni and Anatoli — it would be a hard call to say which of them was blushing more furiously. But the Khorall appeared to be none the worse for wear. Cesare — well, Slink had warned him and hadn’t paid the slightest attention to Daxia. Fair enough. Nadya might actually smile later, once the court was cleared. She probably hadn’t had an opportunity to practice that sneakiness of hers against someone who wasn’t part of Eleni’s household. Cesare was smart enough to follow orders, wasn’t he? And then there was Lyric...

“Mistress Lyric, if you’re looking for a place to point your knife...” She gestured toward the merchant who appeared to be in charge. “...this one seems to be a fair target. Of course, Eleni’s guards seem to have things well in hand.” The Starlord’s smile was fleeting, although she tilted her head as she contemplated the minstrel.

“I don’t suppose minstrels have the sort of magic that would coax the truth out of pompous merchants, would they? And might you? It’s curiosity really. After all, I still haven’t asked him any questions.”

Daxia looked at Eleni again.

“Dama Eleni, why is it that your Court produces even more intrigue than your mother’s? Do you think we can blame your foster brother even though he isn’t here? It seems fair to me. And as I’ve most egregiously presumed to dispense justice on the man who attacked me, I will leave these others to you, as is right and proper.”

Lyric, left with confusion


It made no sense to her. Not the part where it seemed the attacker operated as a singular effort against the Dayalan swordswoman. The part that made no sense was that it was such a poorly constructed plan, carried out in a manner which confronted the intended directly and at her strength. So Yes, Lyric was wrong. She imagined a much greater threat than what had presented itself. Why? Why did she do that? Because it was how her mind worked. Always thinking, always imagining. It confused her that she saw shadows where none seemed to exist. It also embarrassed her a little. She stood alone in the center of the upper part of the room. Kisa was being ushered out. The manservant and Eleni safe, albeit egos bruised.

Still the Minstrel stood there, though her posture relaxed a little. She tried to play it over in her head. She had allowed herself to react without understanding the politics and made assumptions that if anyone was daring enough to attack here, then the plan had to be equally daring. But such was not the case... Even with a layer or two more of deception it still came down to one man trying to stab an armed and armored warrior standing among other warriors. Who does that? Who accepts that end of a plan when it is neither smart nor inspired. Just foolish and suicidal.

And still she felt herself to be the bigger fool right now. And still she didn't move...

"My apologies Khorall," she stated. It seemed right that she offer her concession of misjudgment in more formal words while in the Court Hall. She would have said the same to Kisa as well, but the older sister was already gone.

Finally when she did move, it was just to turn in place, back to the thrones now. Cesare was still the closest but there was some contention in his situation with the guard who had dropped from the gallery. She looked past him hearing Daxia offering her a place to point her dagger. But there appeared to be more than enough guards for that task already. She exhaled deeply as she regarded her blade and slipped the long knife back out of sight. "I... believe the they do... Yes, have things... well-in-hand."

She considered the warrior's next questions carefully.

"I can't speak for other Minstrels..."

"...but yes, I might... maybe. After a fashion... That is, if 'coax' means what I think it means... then maybe. Best I can offer before trying."

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

Nodding to the minstrel, Daxia beckoned the woman closer.

“I suppose ‘coax’ could mean any number of things, that is true — wheedling, bribery, outright threats. Why, the infernal Minstrel of Trundle, Talesian himself, might possibly ‘coax’ an answer from me by threatening to write yet another embarrassing song. Who knows what manner of coaxing these three will require, da?”

She finally leaned over and cleaned her sword on the dead man’s tunic before sliding the blade back into its scabbard.

“Relationships are important — perhaps that is something that is true in your far away corner of the world,” Dazi said, smiling at Lyric. “They’re also very complicated at times. When I first set foot outside the Vale, I was just a commoner, an Initiate serving Dayala — not at all important, except as the sister of an Atteran Priestess and friend of the Allaine Heir. I’ve turned as a Starlord Priestess with a unicorn at my side — something that only other Dayalans would note as important.”

She chuckled as she glanced at Morning Star.

“The unicorn is more impressive and fascinating to most people. And he’ll be happy to agree that this is exactly the way things should be.

“But thanks to one of Kisa’s many proclamations, I find myself also in the category of titled nobility — I am her Lord Protector. So. There are relationships to other people, to various families, and to an assortment of gods that are possible here with these men. Individually, good minstrel, each of these things may seem unimportant. Collectively?” Daxia shrugged. “They tell a story.”

She wasn’t sure how much of the mainland’s politics Lyric understood. At times, the woman seemed so naive as to make one wonder how she survived in the world... at other times, her insights were as sharp as anything Kisa saw. The lines between Imperials, Nobles and commoners ought to be distinct and unambiguous. However, as Daxia had learned in her travels outside the Vale, things weren’t always as simple and clearcut as they seemed.

And at the moment, she merely wanted Lyric to hear the stories these men would tell... perhaps, if it were possible, to encourage them to be truthful. It was the Knight’s job, after all, to sift through the madness of politics.

“I’m going to start simply,” she said to the three men in front of her. “Who are you — who is your family, to whom do you owe allegiance, to what church do you belong? Here in the Vale, it’s best to be honest about that. What is your connection to House Velikii? And why in the name of all our gods did you think it was wise to come into Khorall Eleni’s Court and have one of your company make an attempt on my life?”

The warrior pointed at the remaining guard. “You first.” As she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, she gave the oily merchant a look that held no emotions whatsoever. “You will wait until your companions have said all they wish to say.”

Cesare

For a moment he wondered about resisting.. but only for a moment. A blade before him and one behind, no, the odds were not good.

He let the daggers fall loosely in his hands, pointing to the floor as he lets his body sink fluidly to the floor, carefully placing the daggers to each side of him, he folds his hands together in his lap.

His attention though is now focused on the corner of the room as he wonders just what was meant here.

Lyric

The Minstrel was reluctant to move closer but not for the lack of willingness to help. She cocked her head to the left after Daxia 'beckoned' her to come closer. She had no reason to doubt the swordswoman's motivations, but she also didn't know her very well. Lyric hadn't had to trust Daxia with her own life yet, and neither had Daxia trusted Lyric with hers. Coming closer to Daxia isolated the Minstrel despite there being so many more people over there than where she currently stood. Isolation in this instance was not based upon numbers, but rather trust. Eleni had helped her understand the depth of the bonds she felt with her little group... Keiko, Cesare, Bekka, Tomomi... Kadri, Ser Pietro, and even Mikal who had accepted her among their company as he was coming to his own realizations about his path to a different future.

But, she had travelled with the Swordswoman and the Allaine Heir for many many days to get to this moment. That had to account for something, right? It needed to be part of Lyric's understanding.

But it wasn't the same as putting a life in someone else's hand, or being the one entrusted to old that life in your own.

But maybe this moment right now was where she put her life in someone else's hand...

You see, there was usually more than one path to the truth, and there was a difference between being truthful about what she could do and revealing what she could do.

Lyric looked to Cesare, just off her current line of sight, down the length of the table. He had claimed friendship with Daxia as a circumstance worthy of the Guard's consideration. His opinion was important to Lyric. He had trusted her in the Keep. She was new to the group and he actively backed her plan to free the slaves in the Mad Prince's Keep. He had put his life in her hands. And despite his current circumstance (that he seemed to have under control without actually being in control) she asked him a simple and direct question. "Are you alright?"

Cesare

He is watching events, happy to have a grandstand seat, even if it is the floor. He doesn't want the guards to take their attention from the true enemies, so he stays at ease and relaxed but also still.

Then Lyric's voice cuts through everything, as only a minstrel's can.

He turns his head towards her, slowly.. and grins.

"Fine and dandy."

Lyric

The Minstrel's nod in return was more acceptance of Cesare's three words than a reply of her own. The question itself was important to her because Cesare was not worried about his predicament. He believed he was safe. He believed everything would be resolved. He trusted that everything would be 'fine and dandy'. Thus the Minstrel was able loosen her grip on her doubts and insecurities and she could relax a little.

(Hoping that the GM is timing a resolution for Cesare to fit in with the multitude of things that are going on at the same time)

Lyric shifted her attention back to Daxia.

There was so many things happening. It always felt that way since her journey began. She was getting better at adjusting and adapting but moments like this tested her focus. That focus was needed now.

"It would be helpful if they were separated from each other at this point."

Lyric moved slowly down one side of the table, slipping the Mandola around her body so it would be ready to play. Stopped about two thirds the way down from where she and Eleni had previously been sitting. She glanced from Daxia to Eleni.

"And... if the Khorall and her Court allow, I would like to do this, one at a time, here at the table. As many guards as you desire for safety of course. It will not affect my efforts to help find the truth of things."

The Heartwood
Dawnview Vale
Snowgate Keep, Snowgate Hall
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Tiger

Cesare, Daxia, Lyric, Anatoli, Eleni, Kasha, Kisa, Nadya, Rishka, Slink, TeeCee, and those still around partaking of Eleni’s Court

The move was simple, direct and with no little hint of cool and controlled fury. Cesare's long daggers were kicked to the side the moment they were let loose on the floor by the younger Dayalan while he obeyed the command of the elder. Once he had taken his place, Nadya called out to his patron.

"Yurisdotter, are you going to retrieve your man or shall we have Slink sit on him until you are ready to take him out of here?"

Slink also had something to say about that.

"He doesn't look too comfortable."

On the other side of the table, there was a different sort of commotion.

"Ana!!! Are you..."

Eleni's actually choked off her own words as she sat upright, cheeks still that odd shade of pink. For a moment it was the rarest of all times — the youngest Allaine sister at a loss not just for the proper words but for any words at all. Thus it was Nadya's duty to speak again.

"Boy. Pull yourself together and get your Lady away. And take her sister with. You have my leave to push."

Wobbly, somehow the lad managed, with the help of the table, to pull himself to his feet. It was hard to tell his motive. Service to his Liege? Care for his Lady and her sister? Or fear of a wrathful Nadya? It was probably a mixture of all three. Thus, his motions were awkward as he at first hesitated to help Eleni up, and then to herd her and her sister towards the back of the Court and the doorway out. It did require a modicum of pushing for Eleni. Kisa was far too dignified to allow herself to be pushed...

...by anyone except her Knight.

At the doorway, a different conversation was continuing.

"The Velikii has a bloody long bloody memory. And they do not fight..."

Riska looked at the fallen assassin's blade. It lay on the polished floor tiles just over a handful of feet away.

"...fair."

The Dayalan Captain looked at her initiate and spoke a single flat word.

"Nin."

Rishka's answer was just as brief.

"Ja."

TeeCee slowly walked to where the weapon rested, crouching down to just look at it. That was when the first of Daxia's many questions were answered, though not necessarily the first asked. From the other end of the hall, Eleni looked back over her shoulder. She had both hands on the door jambs, resisting exile from her own Court.

"Nin! Nin, Nin, Nin! You can blame him for asking questions no Lady should ever be asked! You can blame him for convincing someone to sneak a frog into Nadya's bed! Wait! That was his idea, not mine! You can blame him for running through dinner with an angry Father, two brothers, and a mother with a rolling pin. And stealing my dinner roll. You should have tripped him, Anatoli! And stop pushing me! Who is your liege? Me or Nadya?"

"Lady Nadya is scarier than you, My Lady."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing? And you can blame him for stealing an apple from Mother's personal tree when you are sick, and blame him for asking you to dance when everyone is too scared to ask you to dance because you are the heiress and all."

And that, that now, made said heiress blush the color of her own fiery hair.

"But you can't blame him for THIS!"

The last was hastily barked out as she was finally oooshed to a place a little bit safer than here. Such was the life of a Noble at times.

This left the Court proper holding only Dayalans, miscreants, a minstrel, and a Rhoni. At first, the Merchant leader stood his ground, simply matching Daxia's harsh look with one of his own. It took a sudden stamping of a heavy black hoof on the stone tile to fracture that resolve, just like the tile Morning Star just fractured. He was indeed magnificent, especially when he was at his partner's back.

There is a difference between being scared and being coerced to answer questions — or, at the least, answer questions in a manner that could be considered in any way reliable. It took the coaxing of a Minstrel's melody to ensure that. Could one have accomplished it without the other? Perhaps. But together — Dayalan, unicorn, and minstrel — the perhaps became a certainty.

The guard, as directed, was the first to take the seat at the end of the table.

"Kelsey Sellsword. And Master Robert holds my contract. For ten seasons now, since he started in Bordertown."

The other Merchant had equally simple answers to Daxia's questions.

"That's right. I'm Robert the Merchant."

It was a plain but acceptable name.

"And I am a Brementown Merchant. So I work out of Bordertown, but what do you expect? Someone has to do the town's trading and while they might be cursed their coin isn't. I know most folks would like to see them starve, but their children shouldn't be blamed for what their parents didn't do. I was doing well enough, at least until the men in gray came to set their pike across the Road East. Then he came, with his chest of Imperial stars, saying he'd square us with the Montagues if we'd make this trip with him. What was I supposed to do, was it my turn to starve?"

The lead Merchant refused to take the chair across from Lyric. He chose to stand. And yes, he was honest, Lyric had made sure of that. But his answer was completely unexpected.

"Churches? Who needs churches? They are but sops to old powers who are no longer necessary and should no longer be. Their time is over. We are on the crux of a new Age, one that will be an Age of Men. We are no longer children playing children's games. There will be no more gods or goddesses."

That drew a cold snort from the black-haired Dayalan.

"Oh, he's a Velikii all right. Not of the blood, but definitely one of the House. I'd say a housecarl, a servant, a spy, a pawn."

Rishka was interrupted by TeeCee.

"And a viper.

"And I can answer the last. He didn't expect to kill you with one blow. He expected to kill you with a single nick. The slightest cut. He's wearing gloves, isn't he?"

And indeed the merchant was.

"The blade's coated with something. I'll wager crowns for stars that it's poison."

The merchant gave Daxia a single look.

"Kill me, lock me in your dungeon, it won't matter. We are legion. There will be another to take my place in service to Mankind."

He smirked.

"And you think this is the end of it?

"Your bastard-wench at the least has that correct. My liege has a very long memory."

Cesare

He is sitting cross-legged, perfectly comfortable despite the opinions around him. It worries him not being talked about as if he is not here. It is when talking stops that the real problems often start.

He had winced.

Once.

When his daggers were kicked. They obviously did not appreciate the amount of effort and care that had gone in forging those, the amount of honing and care since. He does. The long hours, the sweat in the heat of the forge, the gentle patient care in the shaping.

A soft sigh.

He may have to do some more work on them now. He wonders if there is a forge here. Surely there is. He must ask Eleni..

..at a more convenient time.

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

Daxia looked at Nadya, then at Eleni and Anatoli, and finally at the three men in front of her. Her jaw tightened for an instant before she looked at the Regent again.

“Have Slink sit on him. He might have some interest in what these miscreants have to say.” Then her gaze turned to Slink. “Just don’t create more work for my sister. Please.”

Cesare’s glance at his weapons didn’t go unnoticed. She knew how important his blades were to him. There wasn’t anything she could do about that right now, however.

She watched Kisa leave the court — dignified, proper, doing the right thing. Dazi didn’t have to like it, but she did need to accept that Nadya was right. Eleni’s little tirade almost made her smile.

“Yes, Eleni. Of course, Eleni,” she murmured. “Dom Dominie is only responsible for household mischief. Of course, you’re absolutely correct, Eleni. This sort of chaos is all on my head.” She snorted softly. “It’s something about Allaine courts, too.”

Then Daxia looked at TeeCee and Rishka, a hint of anger returning, before staring at the poisoned blade for a moment. However, she said nothing as she and Morning Star joined Lyric and the three men at the end of the table.

The Starlord’s expression remained emotionless as she listened to the Jvrillian and the merchant. It was difficult to keep a grimace off her face when she heard Robert’s story. A pang of guilt stabbed through her — she couldn’t help but feel the actions of the Montagues were more than a little related to events of last summer’s Council.

She couldn’t save everyone. Enough people had told her that, hadn’t they? And that meant she probably tried to do exactly that. It was honorable. But was it her duty? It was something to discuss with Morning Star and a question to pose to her Goddess. Later.

It was the words of the other merchant that shocked her back to this singular instant in time.

She acknowledged her Sisters’ comments with a nod. “Don’t forget coward. Seems to me that poison is a coward’s weapon.”

With Morning Star at her side, she dared to face TeeCee and Rishka... turning her back on the Velikii scum.

“Are all Velikii this mad? And might I borrow your gloves, Captain?”

Slipping on the gloves reminded her that a shield was not the only thing she needed to replace. TeeCee’s gloves were in much better condition than her own. It wasn’t an irrational thought on her part that the High Tarn was, in many ways, a much harsher and harder place than the lands of the frontier keeps.

Daxia picked up the shortsword and walked back to the Velikki.

“Your opinion on the need for churches has been noted. Respectfully, I find that I must disagree with you. A person may choose not to align themselves with a church, as you have clearly done. I can’t hold that against you, for it’s my understanding that neither of my Rhoni companions follows the teachings of gods... merely the teachings of their people. I have known my friend Cesare longer than his kinswoman, yet I perceive that both of them are decent and honorable people.

“You are not honorable, but that might be a personality flaw of folks aligned with House Velikki.

“And while our companion, the esteemed minstrel Lyric, has shared nothing of her religious beliefs — as is her right, of course — I can see that she, too, is decent and honorable.”

The Dayalan raised the shortsword and pointed it at the Velikki’s face.

“A thought experiment for you, O Non-Believer — in this new age of men you rant about, will you survive a nick from this blade? I have only been tutored in poisons to the point where I know there are two that are generally used on blades. Shagger is rarely fatal. So let us assume that the blade I hold is coated with Junker.

“Do you have enough personal magic to fend off the suffocation that would result from the poison coursing through your system? Or would you suddenly develop a belief in the necessity of Atterans in the world and hope that someone could fetch Lady Bekkah before you die?

“Or — and this is an interesting option — do you really not care if you live or die? Do you have nothing to live for beyond sacrificing your life? Do you have no concern about what will happen to your soul when you are dead? Might death not be the ultimate test of your faith... or lack of it?

“Personally, I would find it delightfully ironic for your soul to face Krysta as you find yourself dancing with Her.”

She was close enough that the blade was a threat, yet far enough away that she would have to take a step to actually harm the man. Daxia simply raised an eyebrow.

“Your master might have a long memory, but I suspect the Immortal Unicorns have memories far longer. Not that I’m threatening you, of course. I’m merely pointing out that your master might not have the advantage you believe he does.”

Finally, she smiled, thinking about early conversations she had with Camelia Ayyanasdotter, not long after she discovered she was Camelia Koromov.

“You know, I’m almost tempted to invite my apprentice and my Temple Sister to accompany me to Trundle and pay a visit to the Justice. The Velikki arranged to have the Koromovs stripped of their Imperial status for reasons that benefitted the Velikki. Now that their status has been restored, do you think the Justice of Trundle-on-the-Hill, Erika Koromov Deynnekko, will have forgotten what the Velikki did?

“From what I’ve learned of Erika from Captain Koromov, I suspect her memory is every bit as long as your master’s.

“And I’ve heard it said that the female of the species is more dangerous than the male.”

She looked down the poisoned blade at the Velikki’s face.

“You’d do well to believe it.”

The Minstrel, tales of Gods and Men, Goddesses and Women

Until the men were brought before her, the Minstrel watched Cesare. His position was a difficult one but he accepted this moment with grace and dignity. She was not so sure she could be as serene and peaceable as her travelling companion. What she did have in her favor was patience though and maybe that would be enough were she in his position right now. He was possessed of a great deal of maturity for someone so young.

Daxia and the guards escorted the Merchanters and guard. But it was the Unicorn that continued to fascinate her. Lyric had travelled in the company of the beautiful creature for many risings and settings of She as they travelled from the Bordertown to Snowgate, but she had always kept her distance. Unicorns were mercurial creatures, at least what she knew of them from her own experiences. Yes, even more mercurial than Lyric herself. But this one was different and that might well be owed to the fact that he was not a unicorn from her homeland. That furthered her wariness because she simply didn't know what to expect. Still, she was fascinated and now they were the closest they had ever been since the first time she had seen him.

It took no small effort for her to return her focus to the task at hand.

With the men delivered before her, one at a time... save for the actual attacker whose testimony could only be rendered by a different kind of magic now, Lyric began to speak. Not just to the first one placed in front of her, but all of them. Her words were soothing and evenly spoken. There was not animus in her voice, there was no condescension. She did not speak harshly, nor with any hint of ire. She did not declare herself the arbiter of their truths and their lies. She offered no judgment nor consolation either. Her words were just that, words. It truly mattered not what those words were, but suffice to say, she offered a brief summary of circumstances that brought these men before her. What was important to recognize was that her words were delivered in a voice that touched them and affected them. The words could have been a list of ingredients for Meat Pies from Waverider's Reach. They were not those words though, mostly because Lyric didn't know the ingredients. The point is, the words weren't actually as important as how they were spoken. To the casual listener it was clear that Lyric spoke eloquently, but she chose simple conversational words. It seemed important that Lyric speak this way and use these words as she did. The tone and pitch and cadence were melodic and the rhythm of her delivery made her voice sound hypnotic.

Then she focused directly on that first man and began to play her instrument as she spoke to him. Then the one after him, and finally the last of them. What any of them had to say was immaterial to her. She simply wove the questions spoken to them into her own words. Were these men answering Daxia? or Lyric? One, the other? Both? That didn't matter either. The Minstrel performed the task sought of her and focused only on the men. She did not want anyone else falling under the influence of her voice.

When the questioning appeared to be done and Daxia became more direct in her approach Lyric continued to speak and play, but much softer and quieter now. The effect would be the same because the words themselves were irrelevant. It didn't sound like Daxia wanted more information from this last man. Maybe there was nothing more to be gained. Lyric didn't know. The politics of the nations in question were a mystery to the Minstrel. And if it was important for her to know these matters someone would tell her or she would ask others the questions at a later time.

The Heartwood
Dawnview Vale
Snowgate Keep, Snowgate Hall
Hasday, the Twelfth Day of Tiger

Cesare, Daxia, Lyric, Nadya, Rishka, Slink, TeeCee, and those still around partaking of Eleni’s Court


It was not as if Cesare was not there. He had broken the rules of court, he had refused the words of the Khorall's Guard. He was definitely being treated as if he were truly there and a threat to the House Allaine. He was also lucky. If he had been any closer to Eleni, he too might have shared the fate of the Imperial assassin. Slink looked past Daxia and only after a nod from her Captain did she pivot, a smooth motion to place her at the Rhoni's back. Her blade stayed at his throat as if daring him to try that trick a second time.

"Too uncomfortable." That was her reply to Daxia, an explanation of why Cesare was not face down on the tiles with her atop.

"Good enough." That was her Captain's response. There would be no recriminations. The initiate was, after all, just doing her job.

"You will stay put until you are collected. And quiet. All you need do is nod."

If anyone was being ignored, it was the big black unicorn. Yet, for the moment, he seemed well satisfied. If his partner was being strong, then, of course, it reflected well on him. That made him very different for Lyric. Morning Star was not at all unpredictable as the proverbial Unicorn. He was at his partner's back, a solid anchor, her foundation and protector, still as midnight.

"Yes, they are. Why else do you think the Trundle Cathedral is empty?"

That was the answer when the sanity of the Velikii was questioned. Rishka's words were bitter, spoken with more than a little distaste. It would seem that the laws of Trundle-on-the-Hill were not being thrown away, just re-written. The Merchant seemed willing to live — or die — by those rewritten laws.

"Then just do it."

The venom in his words was a contrast to Daxia's much more measured words. There was an edge when he spoke, a certainty, a solidity of belief that made him, potentially, more dangerous than an Eastern Avatar seeking revenge.

"Of course we know many of us will die upon this just and right crusade."

He wasn't a warrior. He did not wear a punched penny. But still, he was a fanatic.

"Do you think he did not know the cost of his failure? Does death matter? Gods or not, we are gone. What matters is this world, not the next."

"Bot vou met!..."

That phrase could not help but raise Daxia's brow. Just what sort of Ancient was TeeCee teaching her students? The harsh words came from Rishka as she turned to face the interrogator and the interrogated. And when she spoke, it seemed that for all Lyric's care, her melody had reached someone else. More truths were being spoken.

"Oh, I know that well. The belief that death could be a welcome ending.

"So proud. Velikii gives you a cause to die for.

"So what?

"Dayala gives me a cause to live for. And that makes me stronger than you."

"You don't understand at all, do you? What happened at Cragside?

"Hearing that the Velikii had been blocked, that someone had managed to deny him what he wished? It showed an illegitimate kitchen slave that if you believed hard enough that there could be hope. That she didn't have to accept what he said as the one and only truth. That there was another way.

"It gave her a hero.

"So she left."

Someone, long ago, had tapped the first tile in a long line of tiles. That clattering chain had finally come full circle.

"I should gut you. But you aren't worth it."

The Merchant paled. This was something he had not expected. Rishka looked at Daxia.

"Just so you know, House Velikii is not fond of failure."

The Merchant's face went white.

Lord Protector, Her Ladyship Verchovai Daxia Yurisdotter
[Daxia serves DAYALA... the GM ESPECIALLY should get this right]

She’d met people who were so set in their ways that nothing was going to stir them from their beliefs. As intelligent as she was, this was a mindset that Daxia Yurisdotter simply could not understand. And why could the man not see that a concern for both worlds — this one and the afterlife — was not a mutually exclusive proposition?

However, before she could delve further into the madman’s philosophy — having empathy for others was important — Rishka did, indeed, cause her to raise both eyebrows. She had been reduced to piecing together the rich tapestry of Ancient vulgarities on her own. Clearly, TeeCee did not share Kassia’s belief that cursing was beneath a Dayalan.

As the initiate spoke to the Velikii, understanding dawned on the Starlord’s features.

“Oh, my,” she said conversationally to the Velikii minion. “It seems that you have made a few enemies. Of course, that’s the risk one takes when one goes out in the world and tries to change the cultural foundations of, well, everyone except the Velikii, it would seem. My accomplishments pale in comparison.”

Daxia sighed with what appeared to be disappointment and lowered the sword.

“My most magnificent companion has made a suggestion that’s more than a little ruthless. You have managed to get him extraordinarily angry — no small feat, I assure you.”

She tilted her head and glanced at Morning Star. “While your suggestion is noted, my friend, I doubt very much we could convince my sister to participate in such an... Eastern way of dealing with an enemy. She is far too kind-hearted for such things.” She paused a moment and then shook her head. “I don’t believe her apprentice would do so either. She might be capable of repeatedly snatching him away from Krysta, but even she would rely on Attera’s teachings.”

And then she looked at Rishka again for a moment before nodding and turning back to the Velikii.

“I’m not entirely sure that Krysta would be interested in your soul, but who am I to say? I’ve been told that she, too, is merciful.

“Now, while my word is not the law in this Court, I will petition on your behalf to give you the one thing you want least.

“Your man attacked me in Khorall Eleni’s Court. He found justice.

“I will recommend to Khorall Eleni and to Khorall Kisa that you be granted mercy. You should be escorted out of the Vale, of course. Perhaps the Captain can spare Initiate Rishka and Initiate Kasha for the several weeks it would take them to get you to the fine mercantile city of Cragside and return to the Keep.”

Daxia glanced at TeeCee. “They’d come back. They know there’s more to learn from you.”

Then she smiled at the man’s ashen face. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant smile.

“If I didn’t have business elsewhere, I’d escort you myself to Brementown and kick your sad, sorry behind all the way to Trundle.

“However, I’m sure your master will have someone waiting in Cragside. He’ll want a report from you, da?”

Daxia looked at the highest-ranking individual currently in the Court. “Kelsey Sellsword and Robert Merchant appear to be unwitting victims of Velikii machinations, and I am inclined to forgive their transgressions today. I’d also beg the Khorall’s mercy for the Velikii himself so that he may find justice with his own people.

“Do you think that a fair and reasonable solution, Regent?”

The Minstrel had called herself A Voice

Lyric took the words being spoken around her and she wove them into her own words. She spoke those words softly, as though they were an echo of the words being spoken directly by the interrogator. She also made those words her own. She did not understand much of what was being said, but realized it was important.

Was the Velikii a place or a person? Was it a Deity? Or the people who worshiped one while claiming the Gods of the Land were dead? How oddly ironic that thought sounded to the minstrel though.

House Velikii? Nobility? From where? This place called Trundle on a Hill? Or was that just Trundle and it sat upon a hill? (as opposed to some other Trundle somewhere else) Lyric always endeavored to learn things. Learning anything was an experience and experiences were always important to her. They had always been important to her. How long did it take her to realize that much of her life was no longer about experiences, especially new and real experiences, but rather about the variations of remembered experiences? Oh, how long indeed.

How could this last man fail to understand the untenable nature of his belief? Even if he declared himself a non-believer in one thing he was thus a declared believer in the other. Belief is Belief. Can you really oppose something and not actually believe in it? And his lack of belief in Deities does not make them any less real. Does it? Even without followers from which they might and maybe draw strength from they are still real. Aren't they? They were real when the rose to prominence in the First Age of Man. Didn't they? They were real when they survived the Shattering War. Weren't they? They were real in an Age of Might and Magic, when Order and Chaos imbued their creations with the Power to fight the Battles that could not be waged directly by the two equal but opposite forces of Creation. And who or what was Creation in the first place?

Silly questions, still unanswered after a lifetime of pondering. What hope could a silly girl have to unravel such philosophical mysteries in this particular moment?

Daxia had stated that she found the Minstrel to be of decent and honorable character, despite not sharing the intimacy of religious beliefs with the Dayalan. Lyric considered those words to be high praise and maybe a bridge to finally forging a path of friendship with the warrior woman. But the praise had a second edge. What would happen if Lyric did indeed share the truth of her religious beliefs? What then? This among other possible revelations was a keenly sharp weapon in waiting.

Of course they were real. Lyric had witnessed their power and influence through their worshipers. Lyric had seen Bekkah wield great power in the name of her Healing Goddess. She had seen disciples chosen to serve deities and granted a mantle of authority. And she had stood face to face with a Goddess at a wedding. So Lyric knew they were real, and at least one of them had wanted to meet Lyric. Just a meeting. Perhaps to sate curiosity is all it was as such encounters go. Who knew that 'finding a song to save a people' would engender such interest, but it happened and thus it was true, and that made it real. That made her real. That made them all real. With more meetings a possibility. Humbling that thought. Perhaps a Quest to save a People was the thing that caught attention, more so than the quester herself.

But thoughts wander and the Minstrel kept the woven magic in her words and music.

To Look is not necessarily to See. To Listen is not necessarily to Hear. And her path to Hope was found in Learning.

Nowhere was it mentioned that one should Speak though. But Lyric was Lyric was Lyric, or so she had been told by a friend.

Daxia was declaring her intentions with regard to the Merchanters. While she was not the arbiter of their fate, her words would carry great weight. That was the nature of not only her station, but also her reputation. But it was even more than that. Her words also carried value with Kisa and also Eleni because of the strength of the bonds that tied them personally.

Lyric let the music fade and her voice fell silent. She listened and she heard. She Looked and she Saw. She heard Daxia's words, her suggestion for a fitting punishment for this man's crime. She saw the Fear in the man's eyes. But what was there to learn in this moment?

Exactly. Could something be learned?

Lyric remembered the cruelty of a punishment imposed upon her own self. A punishment said to be fitting for her crime. Her crime was belief. Her belief was different than those who had the power to determine whether she lived or died. A punishment that was meant to teach her a lesson. A punishment that was to be exacted at the hands of those most eager to satisfy personal vendetta and racial animus. A punishment that could be petitioned by one and allowed by another, and delivered by third(as well as the first in this instance). It was a punishment that gave shelter to the the disaffected, shielding them from consequence by justifying that Lyric deserved to be treated in this way. A punishment that meant only a severing of the bonds and oaths between her and those who would never would deliver the sanction itself, thus absolving them of any sense of an emotion like remorse that they no longer knew how to feel anyway.

An indictment of heresy on her part, in daring to believe something different and thus dangerous. That indictment became and edict. An edict that stated Lyric deserved to be hunted because that was how the executioners treated those who were not them. An edict was all the 'lifeblood' for which they allowed themselves to be responsible. An edict that would shield those who turned their backs upon her, those to whom she was foresworn and bound and had served all her life, the comfort and peace of not having to hear her scream in agony when she was struck by arrows and slashed by a blade so often in the days of the chase that she could no longer heal herself and simply had to survive on her sheer will and determination not to die. It afforded those who betrayed her a shelter of belief that her death was not truly in their hands, but rested upon the consequences her own wrong beliefs and their mercy was sufficient to allow her a chance to live in a hunt from which she could never escape.

Lyric sat there. Seeing and Hearing and she began to cry because she had Learned. She wished she hadn't seen and heard because this wasn't her Court. She saw this man's fear upon his face. She wasn't foolish enough to believe he had just undergone a change of heart or even felt remorse. She simply felt his fear and remembered her own. Without Learning there is no Hope to save her people. Without learning there is no hope that anyone can be saved... Not this man and not those who condemn him to a fate of cruelty that will leave scars upon them deeper than any marks cut into his body.

And she saw the difference and the similarities clearly enough.

The chase was over, the Hunt near it's final moments. The prey had been wounded such that simply waiting for the her to fall would have delivered the sentence in full. But when the hunt crosses over to sport and the malice of heart takes hold either through the final swing of a blade or the sheer indifference to life itself then a piece of the heart of all those who had a hand or a word dies as well. Evil wins when Good retreats. And Good can never win by fighting the battle against Evil as Evil would fight.

That day, not so long ago, someone had stepped forward to stay her final fate. Someone had spoken up for her. Someone had believed in her. It wasn't necessarily a matter of believing what she believed, but rather believing that what she believed had value. That she, as a person, had value... and that she deserved to live. Someone had stepped in to declare that the consequences of killing her, or allowing her to be killed, would be far graver than simply accepting that she was different than everyone else. And that if their belief was the right and true path then it would be stronger than her path... but, if her path was the right one it might not never be found again. Why not? Because, as Eleni said to her... echoing a wisdom that Keiko once spoke to her as well. 'You can not step into the same river twice.' The water, like life, is always moving forward and it is always changing. But the nature of the river remains the same. So too is our own sense of self. We are always changing, following the currents but the path of the river guides our journey. Be true to the river no matter the waters.

"Please..."

Lyric, in voice no longer strong and resolved, addressed those around her but looked at Daxia. Imploring, pleading. Her emotions threatened to make the pleading of her case so much harder, and yet so much more honest.

"Is this really the Path of Light and Truth?"

"Forgive me. I speak out of turn and place. I do not mean to offend. But I fear that the consequences for not speaking my heart right now could set a stone's ripple upon a new friend's soul and that could have even graver consequences upon her... upon everyone whose beliefs are founded in goodness and mercy and compassion. And the same upon my own heart should I remain silent."

"I have no Court anymore. I have no more a home than any place I am given refuge that night. I have lost everything I once thought to be right and true, following my heart, and maybe that is the right of it. But now I am searching for way to save my own people, regardless of the sacrifices. I have to believe that what I seek is a right and true thing and that my heart, when focused upon that which is Good, is greater and more resilient than the failings and stumbles i have made along the way to find it."

Lyric looked from Daxia to the Regent, and finally to the man. Her words continued to be directed for everyone gathered near though.

"I do not know if this man can be redeemed. I do not know if he can be shown a different path. Yes, his crime is very serious. I understand that, and there should be justice. But... In pursuit of Justice do not lose sight of goodness."

Lyric stood up and slipped the mandola around to her back again.

"Didn't Rishka just say that hope prevailed in her heart and turned her from a path of darkness? Hope and all the gifts of goodness that come with it are surely greater than meeting evil with evil as a means of justice. Maybe he will never see the truth. Maybe what I feel so strongly in my own heart is that it isn't HIS path that I am most concerned about. Just because a punishment might serve Justice, and might seem fitting in a moment carved out of time, does not mean it serves good."

"Order and Chaos exist in a balance, but so does Good and Evil. They are not balanced on the same scale. The universe holds one, and each of our hearts holds the other. It does not serve us, and the path we walk, any Good at all to darken our steps and our hearts by allowing evil to cast a shadow with our own words and deeds. Evil can not be met with Evil and then be called good and right."