Candles and A Blind Mirror

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 23rd, 2014, 7:43 pm

Winter 6, 513 AV

Exiting the carriage, Estrellir brushed off her hood and shook out her silvery white locks. The gloves made the hair bristle with tension, but she ignored it and covered the short distance to the porch with long strides. She came alone from Boldvine Plantation and stepped into the large building just as the bell rang. The slave auction was beginning. As a representative of the Konrath family, she was guided to a seat towards the front of the hall where she had a good view of the slaves displayed. Leaning back in her chair, she folded her arms in front of her chest and observed the first slave led into the room.

Most were deaf or mute, missing limbs, featuring injuries or struck with diseases that impaired their mobility or hindered their beauty. They came from different plantations, most very young or very old. As the endless row of bodies and expressionless faces continued, Estrellir ceased to look at them properly. Instead her mind started to wander.

Another product was announced. “Formerly a slave of our own household, this human is a great bargain despite her lack of sight and weak condition. She can help around the house and even knows how to dance a little. Meet Saania!”

Estrellir sat up. The girl was thin, almost sickly, with pale skin and a shock of red hair. Human, most likely Drykas. Her empty eyes were surrounded by a spider web of red scars. The Konti narrowed her eyes. It was a well-known fact that the Sitai controlled and managed the auction house. Why would they, whose slaves were the most beautiful and highest quality, sell a girl in a bad condition? Their reputation would suffer. Estrellir sniffed a secret, perhaps a weakness to be used against the Sitai.

“160!” Loud voices cut through her speculations. “We’re up to 160 Mizas! Come on, a pretty thing like her is worth more than that.”

Estrellir raised her hand. Considering the girl’s disability and age, they could expect little more than that. Still, as the auctioneer nodded to her, she gave her sum without hesitation. “I offer 190!” He announced her bid with unveiled delight. Silence followed.

Then someone offered 210. Once again, Estrellir rose her hand. She wouldn't let go of that secret dangling before her nose so easily. “220.”

A moment later the girl belonged to Estrellir or, more precisely, to the Konrath Dynasty. The rest of the auction she dedicated only a fraction of her attention to the slaves on the podium, far more fascinating was the question how a blind slave had turned up among the Sitai of all people.

After the auction, she sought out the auctioneer and requested for the slave girl to be handed over to her immediately instead of being delivered to Boldvine. He looked at her with a confused and questioning glance, but Estrellir didn’t waver. Eventually he shrugged, made a note of the detail in his book and arranged for the girl to be brought up. Estrellir expressed her gratitude and took the girl by the hand. Her palms were sweaty and cold.

After leaving the auction house, Estrellir turned left, crossed two bridges and opened a door. Back she was at Konrath’s Detective Bureau and Mell came out from the kitchen to take her coat. The assistant regarded the other slave with a curious glance, but was clever enough not to ask any questions before her mistress brought up the topic herself.

Estrellir didn’t. Instead she led the girl into the kitchen and sat her down on the worn sofa. Only then did she look her up and down, inspecting expression, body language and clothing. Suddenly the girl broke into a coughing fit, living up to her reputation of having a weak body and sickly condition. “They said my new mistress was a Konrath,” she said after calming down. Her unseeing eyes stared straight ahead while her slender hand fell from her mouth. Estrellir noticed absentmindedly they were a pale shade of green.

She arched an eyebrow. “They also said you were a good house slave and here you are, rude enough to speak before your master has asked you a question or even addressed you.”

The girl cocked her head. “But you bought me, didn’t you?” Her tone carried a hint of sarcasm before she coughed again.

“I did,” Estrellir admitted and sighed. “My name is Estrellir Konrath and I bought you as house slave for Boldvine Plantation. Before you start, however, I’d like to know who your former master was and why they damaged you so severely.” In fact she’d inquired at the auction house, but they’d turned her away with excuses and little lies even her most distant cousin would’ve seen through. For the detective, that was only more proof that they were trying to hide a secret. She considered herself lucky to have smelled the fish before anyone else did. Now she leaned forward in hopes of a revelation.

The girl still lacked any expression. Her voice was barely audible, although that could be attributed to her illness. “I apologize, mistress, but I cannot remember.”

Estrellir’s heart missed a beat. Apparently she wouldn’t get the revelation as easily as she’d expected.

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 23rd, 2014, 7:53 pm

“But you must know what happened to her eyes.” Estrellir folded her arms in front of her chest and tried to fend off the wave of frustration that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Yes, I agree that it’s an unforgivable mistake on our side, but I simply accepted the slave and didn’t question my relative further. Family has to help each other out, don’t you think so?” The man in front of her extended his arms in a gesture of helpless oblivion. Of course, it was all a farce.

Back at the Sitai auction house, Estrellir had found herself face to face with its owner and most prolific manager of public relations. Marshal had a way with words and a melodic voice, but that only instilled a deep mistrust in the Konti. People who knew their words were suspicious to her on principle – most of them knew how to gather power and ascend in politics, dragging their Dynasty behind. She didn’t wish to be associated with that kind, in fear of paying the price for their success. Working behind the scenes to beat them at their own game held a far greater appeal.

“You’d help me a lot by revealing the identity of her former owner though. Perhaps I can direct my questions at one more knowledgeable of her history,” she suggested. Although she kept her features in pleasant order, a twitching brow revealed her short temper.

Marshal smiled. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Do stop by if you ever need slaves of better condition though. I promise you a good discount on your next purchase.”

Estrellir allowed herself a small sigh and ended the conversation. The least she could do was admit defeat with grace. As she exited the building and slowly walked over the next bridge, she absentmindedly shook her head. There was no way she could’ve stood up to Marshal’s superior rhetoric skills. She, after all, worked in realms others never dared to touch in their words.

So it had to be another method. Instead of turning left towards Fire Island, she continued straight ahead, crossing several bridges before walking down the long path to the right of East Bank until reaching her destination. Entering the octagonal building, she shrugged off her hood and nodded to the man behind the front desk. “Good evening, Payne. Now I get it. You store your treasures in the most secluded corner of the city so you can keep them to yourself.”

He shot her a grin. “It took you long enough. As usual, feel free to use the second story.”

Estrellir stopped in front of the desk. “This time I’d like to visit the basement. If you would be so kind...” After a moment of surprise, he gave a serious nod. A few steps to a modest door and a turn of keys, it didn’t take more to open the legacy of Kenash to her. Estrellir uttered her thanks, lit the candle he handed to her and bravely faced the darkness.

As she descended the staircase, her thoughts wandered. Curiously, she remembered Payne as a boy and had more or less seen him grow up. That Paille had proved to be a bearable specimen of his Dynasty which was a rare thing in itself. He gathered books and allowed her unrestricted access to his collection.

She took a moment to orient herself before collecting birth records and family trees of the Sitai. Sitting at a table, she started going over names, dates and physical descriptions penned by diligent scholars of the past, most likely distant cousins with too much free time. Thanks to them, however, she got a good overview of the family within a few chimes.

Next she uprooted her memories and mental notes of several Sitai she’d met in person, searching for clues that connected to a blind slave with memory loss. It took her half a bell. Then she found the perfect fit.

Roland Jasper Sitai
Born Winter 2, 455 AV
Brother of Rosamay and Dervin Sitai. One daughter, Adelaide Sitai, and one bastard son. Tall, slender and wiry statue, dark hair, angular features. Maker of scented candles, reputed to have a taste for pretty slave girls, favorite pastimes include smoking and reading.

It wasn’t much, yet it was enough. Her mind combined that with the Sitai taste for all kinds of drugs and the story came together. At least she had the answer Marshal had dangled in front of her nose, but never revealed. That…

Shaking her head, Estrellir put the books back and returned to gray daylight. Before stepping into the crisp winter air, she lit her wooden pipe with the candle flame and bid the librarian goodbye. Once outside, she inhaled the smoke deeply.

Provided Roland was Saania’s former owner, the how was clear, but the why still escaped all imagination. However she turned the mystery, her lack of knowledge was a problem.

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 23rd, 2014, 7:55 pm

Winter 7, 513 AV

Once Estrellir had her head buried in a case and her nose on a promising scent, she ignored holidays, work bells and other rules. Early in the next morning she was crawling through the mud, ducking behind delicate plants and hurrying from field to field. She’d entered Bloodflower Plantation and was making her way to its heart. Slowly, carefully.

A bell before sunrise, she’d taken a carriage into Kenash, wandered out of the city proper and ducked under a bridge. There she took out her disguise kit and used swamp water to dye her hair chestnut brown before collecting it in a long braid. Then she rubbed a thin layer of swamp mud over her face to conceal the opalescence of her scales, abandoned her boots for worn fabric shoes and changed into an outfit of worn linen clothes she’d borrowed from a house slave. Her own clothing she left in a small hole between roots she’d used for such purposes before, although gloves were a necessity to hide both the gnosis mark and webbing between her fingers. As she looked at her reflection in the water, she was satisfied. The Konti would pass for a human as long as people didn’t notice her eye color.

Nobody had come by during the process and nobody saw her emerging from under the bridge and wandering off towards Bloodflower.

Two bells later she was crawling through fields of tobacco and hemp. Soon sweat mixed with the mud on her skin as temperatures rose. The gloves only lasted two or three fields, then they were ruined beyond hope. Cursing under her breath, Estrellir vowed to use gardening gloves of thicker material the next time. After a certain amount of time her thoughts paled though, her movement and breathing adopted a monotone and meditative quality.

Once she passed a rose garden and heard a male voice singing in the distance, but she worked around it in a large circle. After that, pathways interrupted the fields more often and her surroundings got livelier. Slaves were patrolling the lands in pairs. Estrellir slowed down, calming her breathing and pressed to the ground until patrols had passed before continuing. The greenery and her dark colors did what they were supposed to, but she still knew it was crucial to stay undetected.

When she could see the proud building of white and pearl, however, she grew careless for a moment. Without any warning, two people appeared at a corner, looking into her direction just as she lifted herself up into a crouching position. Holding her breath, Estrellir flung herself to the ground and froze from head to toe. After a short break, their conversation continued. The voices and tones suggested female Dynasty brats, although the Konti couldn’t understand any words. Grimacing, she waited until the women disappeared around the next corner.

Finally she stepped out on the path, tugged at her clothing and walked up to the house in the submissive and meaningful manner of a slave fulfilling a deed. The back door to the kitchens was discovered easily. Taking a deep breath, Estrellir opened it and slipped into the warmth and delicious scents of lunch cooking over the fire.

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 25th, 2014, 4:26 pm

The kitchens consisted of a single vast room with various stoves and fires against the raw walls. Towards the middle working tables were arranged so that cooks and kitchen assistants could walk between them easily. Most were milling about, handling knives, forks or other equipment while a few were devouring simple meals sitting on stools or standing in corners. Despite the activity, servants and slaves functioned like one vast body of collective conscience. Nobody was bumping into each other or standing in the way.

Estrellir bravely walked into that coordinated mess, stepped aside for pots or bowls, ducked under plates and circled around knives being carried around. Once she almost collided with a girl carrying wine glasses, but the girl managed to avoid disaster by spinning around like a dancer.

Blinking, she tried to reorient herself and find a suitable victim for interrogation. It should be a person discreet as well as knowledgeable. Before she could settle on someone though, a rough voice called out to her. “You, chestnut! Yes, you. Come over here for a moment.” The owner of that voice turned out to be a ripe matron, white hair and a warm smile on her face. In front of her was a plate with vegetables and rice.

“Don’t you have anything to do, girl?” the woman asked. Head bowed and hands clasped in front of her, Estrellir did her best to play the role of the obedient and meek slave girl. “I was sent on lunch break, but I’m not really hungry today.”

The woman gave a thoughtful hum. Estrellir could’ve slapped herself. Her excuse should be more creative than that, even more, she should’ve thought about her false identity before sneaking into the household. What a foolish mistake!

“Then you can keep my company while I eat.” The Konti in disguise looked up for a brief moment. The matron was still smiling, gesturing for her to sit. Oh, she had to know Estrellir wasn’t merely an oiled cog in the machinery of Bloodflower Plantation, but she treated her like an overseer would a particularly talented servant. Estrellir wasn’t sure what to make of it, nevertheless she took an unoccupied stool and did as she was told.

During that moment, she decided to play along, no matter how dangerous the game. “The slave turnover seems particularly fast these days. Some simply disappear overnight while others pop up like the crops after a storm.” Keeping up the façade, she tried to imitate the rough and slurring dialect she heard from slaves. Of course, she couldn’t quite hide the clear and precise speech she was used to, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.

She merely nodded and ate a spoonful of rice, chewing thoughtfully. “True, that. Such lovelies I’ve seen go and never come back. But we shan’t question the masters. Guess they know best.”

Estrellir tilted her head in meek agreement. “There was one, I remember the masters were quite fond of her… redhead too. Sar… Saania?” The more she talked to the elderly woman, the more she slipped into imitating her manner of speech.

“Ah, yes. Such a pretty thing! Would’ve become personal slave in no time if not for that temper of hers. Looks like it’s true after all, the old saying.”

Redheads had no souls. Estrellir noticed she was fidgeting, so she took her hands off the table. The woman seemed old and experienced enough to know more about Saania! She looked up as if trying to remember something. “Can’t recall where she came from though. Was it inherited?”

The matron shrugged as she spooned more vegetables into her mouth. “Nobody knew. Mother died in childbirth. They bought her from another Dynasty, you know, but I forgot which. Since then she’s been unruly.”

“But the masters favored her, didn’t they?” Estrellir asked, leaning forward.

The other woman nodded, then gave her a sharp glance. The Konti’s heart skipped a beat. “They did. In fact, Roland liked her best. She entertained him many many evenings, although I still can’t make any sense of it.”

“Maybe he likes them wild,” Estrellir suggested, relieved that she hadn’t been found out… or confronted. Passing slaves shot her curious glances though. Of course, nobody recognized the short girl with the chestnut hair and dirty face.

Again, the woman shrugged. “Not in my place to know, girl. I bet your lunch break is nearly over though. Get back to work, wherever that is.” She looked Estrellir in the eye.

For a single moment they shared complete understanding. Estrellir saw the woman knew she didn’t belong, she wasn’t a slave, but her words told that she wouldn’t blow her cover. Whether it was to avoid trouble or to protect a young girl too curious for her own good, the matron had decided to help her or at least leave her alone. Estrellir tilted her head in wordless gratitude before taking the empty plate and adding to a bottle filled with other dirty kitchen gear on her way out.

Moments later she was back in the fields, anxiously waiting for the guards to disappear behind the next corner. She’d sneaked into enemy plantation and lived to tell the tale. Moreover, she’d gathered valuable information! It was hard to believe. As she made her way through the fields on the outskirts, she whispered a short note of thanks to whatever God or Goddess was listening.

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 28th, 2014, 10:12 pm

Winter 10, 513 AV

After the dangerous game of hide and seek, the case stalled for three days. Pacing back and forth in her bureau, Estrellir went through the facts over and over again, but nothing stood out. Saania was at Boldvine Plantation, still suffering from memory loss. She knew nothing about Roland Sitai or the white-haired matron from the kitchens. Estrellir sensed that the last piece of the puzzle was missing, the final question left unanswered: Why had they disposed of her? What exactly had Roland Sitai done?

When she was stuck, the detective often desired a change of scenery. Therefore, she took her cloak and raised the hood as she left her bureau on the third evening. A few pathways and a bridge later, she could hear the collective hum of many voices and see warm light hanging from stalls.

The Midnight Market held special fascination for her. As a member of Dynasty, she was drawn to the forbidden and shady aspect of its business, and as an intelligencer, she reveled in the little secrets and dubious goods traded openly. A petite visitor with her face in the shadows and gloved hands was by no means an unusual sight, so the Konti moved around freely and without fear of being recognized. At the Midnight Market, everyone knew everything – consequently, nobody knew anything.

Estrellir passed a few buskers entertaining the crowd with flute or violin and a fortune teller. In the past, she’d amused herself by reading palms, but that night she didn’t feel like keeping up that façade in public. She’d rather play the silent observer. A few steps later blood was spilled and left its marks on the cobblestone, spread by many feet. If people died here, the living looked away.

Soon the hooded Konti inspected vendors lining the plaza, one after another. Most, if not all, changed every couple of days. Wares varied greatly in quality and price which was precisely why she loved visiting the market. Sometimes pieces of interest popped up, mysteries or secrets attached to them. That night, she lingered near a stall with candles and fragrant herbs.

Stepping closer, Estrellir couldn’t help but remember Roland Sitai. The book said he used to be candle maker, but the only shop selling candles was on Fire Island, owned by a Freeborn. Estrellir herself didn’t remember Roland’s business, although they were the same age. Asking around would be close to suicide.

While mulling over the problem, she felt the candles, turned them in her hands and sniffed at a few. With sudden interest she realized all of them had a distinct scent to them: one vanilla, the next pepper, another tobacco! The strength of scents, shape and condition of the candles varied though. As the Konti looked up, she caught the merchant’s gaze. He nodded, silently acknowledging a Konrath. “What can I do for you, lady?” he whispered.

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 28th, 2014, 10:17 pm

Estrellir observed the pudgy face and felt like taking a risk. “Obviously your candles are scented. Do they happen to have any other properties?”

The merchant froze, albeit only for a moment. “Yes, lady, if that is what you wish. For example, this one makes you sleep more easily or that one over there works a bit like coffee. Whatever you seek, I can probably acquire it for you.”

Of course he didn’t produce them himself. Most goods around them were stolen or worse. Another idea hit Estrellir. Staring at the merchant, she leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is there one that can make you forget?”

The man knew how to read between the lines. His speech sobered up. “Oh, I happen to have one of those here! Smell it… the scent is sweet, no? But burning the entire candle will truly destroy the memory of your poor enemy.”

She ignored the advertisement. “Where did you get it from?”

He smiled and raised both hands as if innocent of any crime. “I’m afraid I can’t reveal my sources.”

Estrellir ignored the urge to roll her eyes at him. Something was nagging at her, making her impatient, otherwise she would’ve employed more subtle methods. Instead she leaned over the wares until her nose almost touched the merchant’s. “Do you see the scales on my cheeks? The webbing between my fingers? So you know what I am and you know who the Magistrate is. I suggest you spit out what I wish to know before I arrange for your lifelong banishment from this market.”

He paled, took a step back, swallowed. Finally he returned, skin grey and expression sour. “I got it from a pickpocket, a runaway slave. She came from… Bloodflower.”

“Roland Sitai?” Estrellir suggested.

The merchant bowed his head. “She did curse him a lot.”

Estrellir walked away. Her step was light and a glow was shining in her eyes, unnoticed by all but the cobblestone she was staring at. She could hardly suppress the triumphant smile until slipping out of the yellow and red light of lanterns.

As she got back to her bureau, Mell appeared at her side immediately. The girl raised her hands instead of accepting Estrellir’s coat, eyes wide with shock. “A courier just arrived with a message. You are to appear at Bloodflower Plantation. As soon as possible.”

by **Estrellir Konrath** on February 28th, 2014, 10:40 pm

Winter 11, 513 AV

“He knew.”

Estrellir nodded, brushing a white lock behind her ear, before remembering. “Yes. Somehow he found out I had been sticking my nose into his activities, but he was extremely generous. He let me go if I let my investigation go.” She sighed. “I solved the puzzle, but he demands I never tell anyone.”

“Will you tell me at least? I deserve as much, don’t you think?”

The Konti gave her opponent a wary look. With another sigh, she leaned back into the cushions covering her bed. The void after a finished case always demanded filling, but this time she was frustrated more than anything else. “You’re too clever for your own good… I did mean to tell you.”

The girl’s hand was tracing the edge of the chair she was sitting in, back straight and proud. Despite her crippling weakness, she managed to look decent. And for once, she didn’t say anything, waiting for more words in silence.

Estrellir gave them readily, unwrapping the entire story and laying it to the slave’s feet like an exquisite present. Her condition was steadily growing worse anyway... Afterwards, the freckled face crumped into a mask of disgust. Her frame shook with a deep cough before she could reply. “I guess I should be glad of my lack of memory.”

The Konti tilted her head. “Perhaps.”

“Thank you though.”

“For what?” Estrellir cocked her head. Until that moment, she’d felt tired and worn out. Barely escaping punishment by a Sitai of much higher rank took its toll. But those three words made her forget all exhaustion.

A smile bloomed on empty features. For the first time Estrellir saw a trace of the girl’s radiant beauty before her health was destroyed. “For rescuing my past. I appreciate it.”

Estrellir couldn’t find any words. It was as if they’d leaked out without her noticing. Eventually she swallowed and gave a small wave, more for herself than for the girl’s unseeing eyes. “Enough chatter. Get back to work now.”

Saania rose at once, surprisingly obedient, and left the suite without another word. Estrellir nodded with satisfaction before sinking onto the sheets, collecting her pipe from the floor and lighting the tobacco. Lying on her side, she managed to smoke without spreading ash everywhere. For a moment, there was a taste of peace, however fragile and fleeting.

HAPPY END?

by **Vice** on April 4th, 2014, 9:18 pm

A frown materialized across the slave matron's face as she recalled the conversation she had with a young 'slave' girl. Both her tone and appearance had contradicted her position as a slave, and at the end of the conversation, much had been revealed, and scales were seen as the woman walked away. A sigh escaped the woman's lips as she turned and entered Bloodflower.

The woman immediately found her way along, gaze cast about in search of one of the Dynasty members. It was her job, nay, her responsibility as a Freeborn under the employ of the Sitai family to report possible wrongs and threats to the family's safety. It was, after all, in her best interests for her to remain under the care of the Sitai. The matron was in the sunset of her life, and there were grandchildren to consider.

Eyes soon found a suitable target to report to, a smile cast as she bowed her head to Roland Sitai, brother of Dervain, "Mi'lord, there was an odd happenin' in the fields today."

Roland narrowed his gaze at the Freeborn, a frown materialized upon his expression as he replied, "Well, then! Spit it out, woman. I don't have all day!"

She nodded, bowing her head lower still in apology before replying, "Mi'lord. I believe someone infiltrated Bloodflower with questions. A wannabe detective, if you will... I couldn' identify who she was, but I saw the strangest thing... scales. And a poorly-made disguise. I hope this is of meaning to you, mi'lord. I'll take my leave..."

The matron bowed one last time before leaving Roland's presence, the man's nostrils flaring as the man came to a conclusion. "A Konti... A Young Konrath heiress, I see. I'll tell Dervain that the blue freak isn't controlling his women..."

~~~o~~~o~~~o~~~o~~~

Timestamp: 58 of Winter, 513

~The scene changes, 52 days pass in Boldvine, Saania, the blind slave is moving about the household, feeling along the walls to direct her way before she begins to shake. Her mouth begins to foam as she collapses to the floor, seizing violently in silence. She is not discovered for a full thirty chimes, and by this time, her body is beginning to cool, eyes closed, mouth agape, hands clutched at her throat. Atia Konrath is directed to the body. The scene begins with the Konti hunched over the body.~

Atia crouched over the slave's body, curiosity in her gaze as she ran her fingers along the corpse's arm, feeling the cooling of flesh against hers as a frown curled her features. She snapped her fingers, raising herself to a standing posture as a slave approached. The woman spoke in a measured, unaffected tone as she asked,

"What was it's name?"

The slave flinched at the tone of the Konti's voice, a frown presented for just a moment before she replied, "Saania..."

"Ah. Stay here, you will drag away the body and have several slaves assist you in its burial."

The Konrath woman raised her head, her walk filled with a grace befitting to her station as she moved to her room to write to her father, the Magistrate, about what has transpired.

by **Vice** on April 4th, 2014, 9:31 pm

Estrellir Konrath :

Consequences (alluded to in previous post, but relayed for clarification):

Relations Crumble: The Sitai Dynasty becomes Suspicious of the Konraths

Saania: Dead.

A Relationship Falters: Lorenzo Konrath receives a letter from Atia, and the resulting information regarding Saania's death and Estrellir's investment in an obviously diseased slave causes the Akalak to lose trust in her judgement.

Consequences of lost trust: Inability to buy slaves using Dynasty money for Winter and Spring seasons, a debt levied on Estrellir for half of the slave's cost: 110GM to be deducted from Estrellir's ledger.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, do not hesitate to ask! We'll discuss my reasons for assigning what was given. If you still don't agree, then perhaps something can be worked out.

Enjoy! Also, please mark the thread as 'graded' in the grading queue, please.

Completed Candles and A Blind Mirror