Closed Lend a hand (Edmund Morealis)

[Timothy Mered]

20th of Fall 514AV

A few more chimes and he would be unable to make out the little boat, a lonely speck gliding over the calm water, trailed by ripples. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the wailing slave songs and though he couldn't make out any word, the hymn's agonizing weight crushed his heart. Rough, guttural sounds, tied only by a slow rhythm and with no agreed upon pitch to speak of drummed in his ears. Not even the glimmering sunlight, dancing over the water with mesmerizing grace could fill the gaping hole in his chest.

A friend, Jed had said, would pick him up. He made a little puddle with his boot as he waited for Jed's mystery friend. A certain Edmund, Matilla had entrusted him, but whether Edmund was the big mean type like most Radackes or the evil wiry type like the Sitai's, remained to be seen.

Closing his eyes, he could imagine himself free. The wind rustling through the reed and tousling his hair, the cool water rippling softly, the warm, kind sun touching his skin.

The thought of escape had never left his mind entirely and now, unbound but by command to remain, it came back to full froth. One step, and then another. That was all it took.

A few brave steps and he'd be out these fields and into the swamps and deep into lands he had no knowledge of, filled with creatures he knew nothing about, with no food, water or utensils to obtain either. It would be suicide, even if they didn't catch him. Which they would, Jed had implied as much more than once.

So he remained, afraid to move at all. Eyes still closed he imagined himself in an adventure. He would go back home and no one would hurt him on the way there and his mother would be there and...and...

He let himself drop till his butt hit the ground and mindlessly plucked at the vale, dehydrated grass. The urge to drown out the horrid song in the distance only grew and the river reminded him of a song his mother had taught him once. He didn't think it was actually true, but it was a funny song anyway and he smiled as he played it in his head. It was a queer little melody, not happy exactly, but not sad and downcast either.

Putting his fingers in his ears he began to sing softly, but becoming more confident with every next beat. His eyes shut again and so he would remain unaware of any man approaching him as he sang:

There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile,
He found a crooked miza upon a crooked stile,
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a crooked little house.

[Edmund Morealis]

Rare was the occasion that Edmund found himself on the receiving end of a request, especially from Jed. There was not much Edmund could offer people in regards to favors, not that he had much of an opportunity to perform anyway being as occupied with handling the Morealis manor as he was. Not to mention that Jed and he were not often in contact with one another these days as their jobs had begun to consume their lives.

Yet here Edmund was, riding along the Kenash river in one a ferry at the appeal of a letter he had received not two days ago which bore the signature of Jed Radacke.

In the letter, Jed mentioned the name of one of his slaves which he requested that Edmund take care of for a day or so whilst the Radacke himself returned to the manor of his Dynasty. The message entailed little else, only a location and time at which Edmund would have to be in order to collect the slave. Most personal details had been withdrawn - age, position, profession - probably under the correct assumption that Edmund would inquire it all of the slave in question regardless of being told in advance. Only the name had been shared, and it was Timothy Mered.

The miniature boat in which the Morealis sat wafted lethargically over the river, carrying the driver and passenger swiftly downstream toward the small city of Kenash, passing by the abundant vegetation that grew rampantly along either bank of the river. It was not normal for Edmund to pay a visit to the city, as currently there was little he could do there. He possessed ideas for plans that may one day come to fruition, but for the moment he was still occupied with establishing his own personal name among the Kenashian Dynasties. Until Edmund's name meant something to at least his own family, he would be restricted in the things which he could do. Fortunately, he was in town for the opening of the Pavilléon so that he might be seen (such was a good way to attain publicity), so accommodating an old friend's request was not terribly difficult.

As the ferry grew closer to the city's riverbank, a lone small figure had planted itself firmly on the ground right where Edmund was supposed to convene with Timothy. It looked like a child, perhaps barely mustering into the early years of adolescence. Singing to himself, it appeared.

Perhaps this was Jed's slave, though it seemed odd to purchase one so young. Usually older slaves offered more utility, but Jed was not stupid. He knew what he was doing, and if he saw fit to spend some mizas on a child then he would know how to make the most of that investment. Stepping off the gondola as it drew up alongside the riverbank, Edmund readjusted his clothes and straightened his shoes, pausing once that was down to adjust the scarf around his neck on which the Morealis diamond was sewn. Beside him, his personal slave Kaitanu joined him in human form, the very same diamond insignia tattooed onto his cheek, dressed in the satin outfit Edmund had purchased for him and carrying a bag filled with paper that was Edmund's work. There was not a chance in the world that he would leave behind his help.

A few confident steps carried the tall Morealis man toward the boy, almost to the point where he towered over the small child. It was still not clear whether this was the Mered whom Edmund was supposed to collect, but he could not think of any other reason for this child to be here. Besides, if the child were not Mered nor a slave, then it was of little consequence. Though Edmund was quite confident that this was, in fact, what he was here for.

"You are Timothy Mered, correct?" the dynast inquired with an even, inquisitive voice.

[Kaitanu]

20th Day of Autumn, 514 AV

Summer had passed in Kenash, bringing little change to the air or the general swampy climate. It was still hot, still moist and heavy, but perhaps a shade cooler than when Kaitanu first entered the city more than a month ago. Even with the sun gone below the horizon, and the water nearby, warmth radiated from the ground under his boots. Fireflies gathered in little clouds around the little pools under the high-arched knees of the cypress trees. Other, less beautiful insects pricked the skin, droning briefly over the slave music as they passed close by faces and ears. They sought out the warmth of blood, crawling into sleeves or under pants legs. If Kaitanu had been in horse form his tail would be in constant motion right now. Not that irritating insects were anything new, but the heat certainly was. One good thing about Ravok had been the mild climate.

Still, Kaitanu would take heat and insects and everything else over going back. So far, his life in Kenash had been surprisingly lacking in violence and cruelty, at least comparatively so. A slave's life was never a bed of roses, no matter the master. That was the thing, though; Edmund Morealis didn't seem to be like any master he'd ever had. Not once had Edmund turned to him for 'pleasure', nor had he beaten Kaitanu for minor infractions. The slave had made sure not to give him any reasons to be violent, but that usually didn't seem to matter to masters who were in a bad mood. For some unfathomable reason Edmund Morealis was different in that regard. He simply gave orders in a calm voice and left Kaitanu to follow them.

For the last several weeks the newly-branded Morealis slave had been trying to figure Edmund out, constantly on the alert for cruelty which did not present itself. He couldn't decide if his new master was playing mind games with him, lulling into a false sense of security, or if he was really just a non-combative individual. That was a wholly new concept to Kaitanu, at least as far as masters were concerned. To have power and not to abuse it had seemed as impossible an idea to him as fish swimming in the air. Yet Edmund seemed more and more to be that impossibility. To an outsider, a free-man, the Morealis overseer's treatment of his slaves would have seemed unremarkable. To Kaitanu it was an unexpected puzzle. He wasn't about to trust the young Dynast, but then he didn't really trust anyone. Kaitanu simply couldn't figure him out.

What the kelvic lacked in his ability to trust he made up for in executing his master's will to the letter. Masters didn't care about their slave's trust anyway, so that didn't hinder Kaitanu's work. He simply did what was asked of him, no more, no less, and had no ambition beyond avoiding punishment. As far as experience had taught him, for a slave there was no greater goal.

In spite of this, he couldn't help wondering more about this new master than any of the others, and perhaps figuring him out was a sort of ambition in itself, though a vague one. The young slave's mind was often taken up with these musings while he traveled through the crowded streets of Kenash, or over the water to the various islands. However, he never forgot his main purpose in coming to the humid, noisy, brightly-colored city.

At the moment, Kaitanu's focus was on his work, and fulfilling his master's commands. In this case, there was no explanation, merely an order to follow the young master out and carry his things. Not much to wonder in that, but why they were about on business at an hour like this he could not guess. The evening was usually a time for colorful fetes and grand concerts. Though Kaitanu had seen the letter in his master's hand, without knowing the contents, he could tell it wasn't an invitation to some moonlit soiree.

Not that he would have presumed to ask his master for more information than Edmund was willing to give. Kaitanu merely accompanied him silently wither he wished to go, walking always a little behind, no seated beside the Morealis overseer, with his eyes properly downcast. Not that he wasn't observing all around him as the ferry floated onward over the water. Kaitanu was ever-aware of his surroundings, even if there wasn't much to see but dark ripples, and the peeping eyes of little frogs among the reeds. There was also his master, and the ferryman, though both were quiet, and only the ferryman's muscular arms moved back and forth with his long pole. It reminded Kaitanu very much of his years in Ravok, and the canals. He shuddered a little.

Suddenly, Kaitanu became aware of a faint song, growing louder and closer. It distinguished itself by being sung by a small voice, young and thin, but separate from the dirges of the slaves that wafted farther downstream. Kaitanu had guessed the age of the singer before he lifted his head enough to see him, not at all surprised at the look of the boy, though wondering what he was doing out here. The kelvic had come across Timothy on business for his master at Jed's shop, though they had never spoken. In the moment Kaitanu recognized the lad his mind made the connection between Timothy and the letter his master had received. He thought that paper looked familiar…

As his master alighted from the gondola and approached the boy, Kaitanu followed him, satchel in hand and ready for duty. Yet, he couldn't help being interested in what was to be done with the boy. Silently, he took in the other slave's appearance, seeing no change from the last few times in Jed's shop. He still looked decently cared-for, if more morose than usual. Kaitanu could certainly understand Timothy's desire to sing when he was alone. The kelvic slave did the same thing when he could be sure no one was within earshot. Perhaps music was the only thing left to their kind once all else had faded beyond memory.

[Timothy Mered]

20th of Autumn 514AV

Singing soon became tiresome. He unstoppered his ears but kept his eyes shut, relishing in this rare, unwatched moment. And so he remained, feet apart, chest rising and falling like the tides, arms hanging loosely by his side. The turning wind muted the faraway hymn and tousled his straw hair.

A darkness fell over his eyelids, betraying Edmund's presence to him. Eyes fluttered open and the tall Dynast stood before him. The man's height could challenge even Jed's towering figure and a flowery scent lingered about him. Compared to Jed, the slick Morealis seemed to care more for how he appeared, a characteristic he shared with majority of Kenash. Now that Tim thought about it, Jed was rather the exception to all these things, not the other way around.
"You are Timothy Mered, correct?" the man presented himself gracefully and Tim could scarcely imagine what sweet, honeyed words would flow from the Dynast's lips when faced with an equal.

He mulled some dirt over with his feet and shrugged, "yeah." Just then he realized the tall, handsome man and his pale, porcelain companion had probably heard him sing and he felt caught and guilty, as if he'd commited the greatest possible offence. Averting his gaze to the ground he spotted a beatle crawling up his shoe and for a moment he wished they could swap places. Dropping to one knee he let the insect scurry up his index finger and examined it more closely, forgetting just how inappropiate that was. "Look!" he raised himself and stepped closer to Edmund, "it's shiny!"

Squinting his eyes, he looked more carefully still. "Are those wings?" he wondered aloud, pointing at the beatle's shimmering black shield. How jealous he would be of the little thing crawling through the reed if it could fly, to be able to go anywhere it wanted, whenever it wanted. The moment of childish wonder passed before it had fully blossomed and his face sunk back into a well-trained, worried frown.

The man smelled nice and had a soft, gentle voice. His servant in the background, standing at a respectable distance and looking rather lowly, looked even less of a threat. Nevertheless, any friend of Jed's was most likely some bnrutish, boorish fellow with little interest in beatles.

An uncomfortable itch scratched at his chest and he didn't know whether to say hello, or shake hands, or bow, or none of those things. . No matter the good looks and polite voice, Kenash was full of pretenders and Tim wasn't keen to get closely acquainted with any more white-hot knuckles. Was the man like Jed, preffering silence or was he like Matilla and did he want him to chat on? Older people were terribly confusing in that regard. One moment they wanted to know everything about you, the next they wanted you to shut up, only they never said which way they wanted it until it was too late.

[Edmund Morealis]

Born and raised in a position that required the frequent exercise of authority over slaves and inferiors, Edmund had never really experienced the casual command of slaves outside of a professional setting like many other dynasts. Always was he uptight and formal in front of his subordinates, at least in the absence of any relaxing figures such as his close family. Kaitanu was his first and only personal slave, purchased only out of the necessity of having an assistant to aid him in handling his affairs, and that was a purchase made last season. Very inexperienced was Edmund in the command of slaves in a personal situation.

That did not mean he misunderstood what it meant to be a slave. To the cream of Kenash, slaves were not obedient people or exceptional servants. Rather, they were property that was owned, used, traded and even defaced according to the whims of their owners. So far Edmund had managed to divorce himself from any deep philosophical on the subject by virtue of the professional setting in which he commanded them all. There was no room for philanthropy in his profession, after all. Paradoxically, it was the intrinsic role of slaves in his career that allowed him to delay for so long thinking about them as anything more than elements in his workplace.

So though he had accepted Jed's request to care for what turned out to be his child slave who assisted his business at the Bed n' Boxes, Edmund had not the faintest clue as to what he was actually to do.

The child before him was a curiosity to say the least. If he did in fact recognize Edmund as a dynast, one who would be in charge of him for the day no less, he was disinterestedly irreverent of that fact. It was rather characteristic of a slave quite honestly, though whenever Edmund had any reason to visit the slave communes on the Morealis plantation even the children seemed nearly obsessively obedient. Perhaps Timothy was not Kenashian raised, which would explain a fair bit.

Simply in general Edmund's background with children was non-existent, and so the caretaker had not the faintest idea how to react to being offered such a trivially interesting object of interest such as a beetle. Were it any slave at Blacksugar, his reaction would be immediate dismissal in preference of work, sometimes with the intention of coming back to the topic later were such an opportunity to surface. Here, though, he was at loss.

Edmund's inaction allowed Timothy to continue his train of curious thought and inspect the little bug further. Was it the first time that the child had seen a beetle? Even Edmund, with his incredibly limited time outside throughout his life, had encountered the little creatures before.

"Those are indeed wings," Edmund confirmed. His words came out whimsically, something that Edmund did not usually allow, but seemed appropriate given the current situation. "Beetles fly, though I have not seen them do so fast or for very great distances. Mostly I have seen them fly from one plant to another."

Edmund was not quite sure why he had bothered to satisfy the lad's curiosity. Perhaps it was a reflection of the Morealis' own curiosity during his childhood which he saw in the slave before him. Regardless, there were other matters to press onward toward.

"My name is Edmund Morealis," the caretaker introduced himself as. With an arm, he beckoned Kaitanu closer. "This is Kaitanu. He will be looking after you more closely than I most likely, as I have work that must be done while I am here. With that in mind, I would like us immediately to retire to the Fantasia Zulaca for the afternoon so that I may commence in my chores."

None of it had really been asking Timothy of his opinion, more informing the child of what Edmund's plans were for the immediate future. What was made abundantly clear to the interested observer, however, was that Timothy did not seem to feature at all in those plans. Indeed, Edmund had no particular instructions for the child, just as he had no particular instructions for Kaitanu whenever he endeavored to work in his suite at the Fantasia. Perhaps Timothy's irreverence would lead to the boldness to request some personal time, though Edmund was quite focused solely on his work.

Once Timothy made some form of understanding, Edmund at once turned toward the Fantasia and trekked across the West Bank, walking directly for his destination without another moment's hesitation.

[Kaitanu]

Silently, Kaitanu watched the new slave and the way in which he dealt with Edmund Morealis. This boy had clearly been born a freeman. There was none of the broken, deferential scraping of the life-long slave in him. Timothy, as he was apparently called, still seemed to have the air of the child about him, and an undeniable spirit in the eyes. Kaitanu noted that he didn't seem to know how to handle himself as a slave, but then it was rather obvious. That would prove to be problematic for Timothy in future.

Even though it was not his business, Kaitanu felt a determination to help the young slave learn his place as well as possible. Whatever his own thoughts or beliefs or feelings the boy had to learn how to hide them. Kaitanu understood all too well the consequences if he did not. Hopefully there would be a moment here or there in which the kelvic could draw Timothy aside and warn him. If Timothy was able to avoid some abuse in future taking the risk would be well worth it.

Standing a little behind Edmund, his slave watched both boy and man without seeming to. Kaitanu was the perfect picture of deference, neat and well turned-out, standing silently at attention. The best slaves faded into the background until called for, and he was no exception. As masters tended to think their slaves had no minds of their own the kelvic was able to observe quite a lot. He noted not just Timothy's odd behavior, but Edmund's discomfort, as though unsure of what should be done with the child. Since Kaitanu had rarely seen him deal with children of any sort this was hardly surprising.

What did strike him as strange was the way in which Edmund answered Timothy, not with a harsh reprimand for prattling, but an actual response to his question. Kaitanu's gaze flickered toward Edmund's profile, trying to figure out his master's motives. Maybe he was just stalling for time…but why not just order the boy to get in their boat? Edmund Morealis was an oddity and no mistake.

When Kaitanu was introduced he moved forward and gave a slight nod, rather than the formal bow reserved for superiors. Unusually, the kelvic let his eyes meet Timothy's and, even more unusually, he let a brief smile stretch at his full lips. The kelvic slave was not given to show much emotion, except around slaves younger than himself. Otherwise, his face was almost universally a mask of blank calm. If Timothy had noticed him before at the Bed and Boxes he would never have seen the older slave show any emotion.

Even now the rare smile didn't perch long on Kaitanu's lips, though he was secretly glad to hear he would be in charge of the boy. So long as Timothy wasn't the type to try and run off, anyway. He kept a weather eye on Timothy as Edmund strode toward the West Bank, motioning silently for him to follow. Hopefully he wouldn't bother the master with more questions; Edmund seemed to be going once again into business mode.

That did bring up the question, however, of what Kaitanu was expected to do with Timothy. He had his satchel, but no specific work to do for Edmund. Yet, Kaitanu didn't ask, but followed his master, hoping things would become clearer soon. Edmund had said "us" when speaking of the Fantasia Zulaca, so until ordered otherwise that was where both slaves would go.

[Timothy Mered]

Timothy soaked up the new information with unprecedented vigor. He’d grown accustomed to gruff, short replies that weren’t replies at all. For once his curiosity had been satiated, though he was disappointed at being denied further questions. Not so much because Edmund had told him to stop yapping, but rather because the tall, sleek Dynast spoke with a mixture of dignity and command that inclined him to obey and follow.

Uneager to give Master Edmund any reason to dislike him, Timothy wisely shut his mouth, folded his hands behind his back and nodded like a good boy. It wasn’t until Edmund had turned away from him, revealing the pale slave behind him, that Timothy eased up again.

There was a glint of recognition in his eyes as he took in the slim, pale man with his startling blue eyes. He thought he’d seen him once or twice at the shop, though he couldn’t recall ever having exchanged any words with the other slave. The face wasn’t unfriendly, but his bony yet muscled appearance was mildly unsettling….he didn’t appear fully human.

Shaking off the thought, Timothy hesitantly joined the pale slave and followed after Edmund. It wasn’t until he caught the friendly smile being sent at him that Timothy gained the confidence to whisper, “is he a kind man?”

It wasn’t proper or nice to ask such things, there was even some danger to it. For all Tim knew, the pale slave had a loathing for gossip and would admonish him straightaway or worse, expose his question to Master Edmund. But the curious little boy hadn’t the mind to consider what-ifs and buts. So far, Master Edmund and his slave seemed to be the most gentle souls around and Tim was eager to test just where their boundaries lay.

OOCSorry that my post is so short. I just felt I needed to get a post in to keep things moving forward. I tried to make it longer but anything more than this felt like filler...I'll do my best to make amends in my next post.