Unfamiliar Faces (Seyena)

[Mirian Jade]

21st of fall, 514 a.v somewhere around noon Violence. Gangland warfare. Monsters coming out of the ocean. It seemed that every day brought a new burden, twisted someone else’s neck. There was too much to think about, too much to worry about, too many shadows to look for in the alleys as one tried to hurry past. Too much damage, too much danger. Mirian Jade was not a romantic, nor was she one to downplay the dangers that the city of anarchy presented to each of her children. But neither was she one to lock herself away in an attempt to avoid danger; everyone had to eat, and when it came to the certainty of starvation or the possibility of a backstreet mugging, she’d take the possibility over the certainty any day, And she was a spry woman; if she couldn’t talk her way out of danger, then she could always try to outrun it. All in all, it was a fairly normal day for Sunberth. Well, not completely normal, or she wouldn’t be making her way towards Petricious’s Clinic. Apparently, the good doctor had been so moved by the gang warfare around him that he had decided to open his door for free today, something that had caused her to pause in her usual routine of liberating other people’s possessions and head towards the outskirts of the Wolf’s Den. Her head was held high and her knife was worn outside her trousers this time, displayed clearly on her hip as a deterrent to any that might think she was worth harassing. She may not have been going into the Den proper, but it never hurt to be careful. It was around noon when she finally reached the building she was looking for, cracked and peeling but nevertheless strong and austere. She knew the reputation the place had, at least in terms of the bad, but she also knew of the good rumors that circulated. She wasn’t here for a wound, she was here for curiosity––a curiosity that she was prepared to pay for, if necessary.

[Seyena]

Damp cloth in hand, Seyena scrubbed the splattered operation table after the last patient’s bloody visit. Nothing fatal, just minor wound from the Pit. He had squirmed as though it was lethal. She had to admit that she found it a bit amusing.

While cleaning the Clinic wasn’t part of her job description, she made sure to keep the doctor happy in any way she could. Her employer’s unstable state always seemed to be teetering on the edge. She didn’t want to be the one to give him a push. And anyway, how could she create poisons in such a messy room?

As she worked up a rhythmic motion, she thought forwards to the tree sap she would study later. Seyena had harvested it from a particularly suspicious looking tree that had fungus sprouting from its base. Of course, she picked up some samples of the mushrooms too. The specimens sat in a favoured corner of hers, waiting to be examined. She was occupied by these thoughts as she attempted to regain the table’s original state of “almost clean” before Doctor Petricious returned from his visit to the shack.

The resulting screams weren’t as surprising as you might have thought. After working there for long enough, Seyena had developed a slight immunity to the madman’s workings. Slight.

From a glance up at her surroundings, Seyena realised that the Clinic had a customer. The woman held a rich exotic flair that the young Symenestra had not yet seen. She held qualities that Seyena could only dream of; tan, gilded skin and a full, healthy figure. Growing up surrounded by pale, skinny creatures, this was a culture shock for the girl.

Blinking once, twice, she stood up to face the woman properly. “Hello and welcome. What seems to be the problem?” It was a stiffly scripted and well-practised greeting, one she found covers a lot of ground in the Clinic.

[Mirian Jade]

The interior of the clinic was not much different from the outside––all decoration and general cheer had long since been chipped away by pain and cruelty, leaving nothing but the bare, emotionless essentials. Mirian wasn’t sure what it was she had been expecting, but a woman cleaning blood off a table was not it. The halfbreed did a double take, and was staring before she could help it. The woman––for she assumed it was a woman, for all the wire of her frame––was as delicate as spun glass, looking for all the world as if a firm tap might shatter her. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent––no, it was translucent; Mirian could pick out veins on the woman’s wrists as she worked a cloth over the table. There was an almost ethereal, ghostlike grace slinking beneath deceptively rough clothing, one that raised Mirian’s curiosity almost immediately. She was treated to another shock, however, when the woman noticed her presence and turned. If her skin had been unusual, her eyes were inhuman; vibrant, glittering amethysts peered out from beneath a misleading curtain of black hair, and Mirian couldn’t look away. The woman had asked her a question, she realized a few seconds late. “Uh, what? Oh, I… yes. Contraceptives. I’m here for… do you have any? I’m sorry, I…” She closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts. It wouldn’t do to make a bad impression with the first words out of her mouth. “Let me start over. I’m Mirian. I’m looking for contraceptives. I was wondering if the doctor might have any.”

[Seyena]

As the woman stumbled through her words, Seyena struggled to keep track. What little light the room hosted distracted her as it caught on Mirian’s adorned skin, shimmering. The outlandish organ brightened the room through its existence alone. She continued cleaning with absent minded circular motions as she thought through her reply.

“My name is Seyena.” Her words were uncertain and slow, brow creasing with the concentration. What had Mirian said? “I’m sorry, what does that mean? Contra… se…?” The foreign word felt peculiar on her tongue. She didn’t have the confidence to finish it. Seyena looked to the woman for help, hoping that the language barrier wouldn’t turn the customer away.

Eyes drifting, she noticed an odd lump resting on Mirian’s thigh. Curiosity peaked, she leant forwards to get a better look. With a squeak and a jolt, she straightened, eyes averted. A blade. Deep breaths, Seyena. Keep calm. It’s to be expected in this chaotic city. You know that. Remember, anxiety never brings good things. She wrestled her eyes back to Mirian’s brown ones. The cloth was clung to her chest in a bundle in an attempt to ground herself. You’re overreacting. Concentrate. Her inexperience with weapons was showing, and she knew it.

[Mirian Jade]

The woman returned to her work on the table, introducing herself. “My name is Seyena,” she said. “I’m sorry, what does that mean? Contra… se…” Mirian realized with a start that the woman must be a foreigner. Her words were measured and struggling, and her voice held a gentle, lilting accent that Mirian had never heard before. A delicacy that matched the woman using it. As Mirian concocted a reply, the woman––Seyena––caught sight of her dagger and squeaked. Mirian blinked. An openly carried weapon in Sunberth was nowhere near unusual, even less so in the Wolf’s Den. Then she was a foreigner. She had to be. “... I’m sorry,” Mirian said again, choosing to move on as if the woman hadn’t startled at her knife. “Birth control. To stop me from getting pregnant. Gods know I have enough on my plate already.” She had intended to leave her words there, to just find what she was looking for and leave, but more came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop it. “You aren’t from Sunberth, are you? That accent––what is it? Are you a traveler?” She clapped a hand over her mouth, and after regaining control of herself she apologized once more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask so many questions. It’s just… strangers here don’t usually stay very long. And I like stories from outside the city. I’ve never really been outside of it.” Alright, so the last part may have been a bit of a lie, but it wasn’t like she could learn a great deal about the outside world in the first seven years of her life.

[Seyena]

Face flushing from her outburst, Seyena calmed and resumed in her work. “I’m not sure about the contraceptives. I’ll ask Doctor Petricious.”

“You aren’t from Sunberth, are you? That accent— what is it? Are you a traveler?”

A smile tinted the girl’s lips as she thought of her home. “Yes, I am not from here. I was born in Kalinor, in Kalea. It is a city inside a cave.” She leant on the table, mind contently lingering on her memories. “I am here to learn and to grow. I am not settled yet, though. And my Common is very… clumsy.” She realised that the table wouldn’t get any cleaner than it was and discarded the cloth onto it. Job done.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask so many questions. It’s just… strangers here don’t usually stay very long. And I like stories from outside the city. I’ve never really been outside of it.”

Seyena brushed away Mirian’s worries with a wave of her hand. “Don’t say ‘sorry’. It is good to ask questions. In fact, I have one for you. Why do you say strangers don’t stay for long?” Those words had sparked some butterflies into her stomach. Only less than twenty days in Sunberth and already worrying about leaving. Of course, she had noticed the city’s… interesting approach to morals. And she couldn’t deny the fact that she had been scared for her life on a few occasions. Maybe more than a few. But do many arrive with good intentions and then abandon the city? Would she be one of those many?

[Mirian Jade]

Seyena didn’t seem too perturbed by Mirian’s outburst. “I’m not sure about the contraceptives. I’ll ask Doctor Petricious,” she said, continuing at her work on the table. “Yes, I am not from here. I was born in Kalinor, in Kalea. It is a city inside a cave.” A city inside a cave. Mirian’s head reeled from the sheer effort of trying to wrap her mind around the concept. “I am here to learn and to grow. I am not settled yet, though. And my Common is very… clumsy. Don’t say ‘sorry’. It is good to ask questions. In fact, I have one for you. Why do you say strangers don’t stay for long?” The inquiry managed to bring Mirian back down, and she blinked and shook herself. There was no point in imagining a city in a cave, not when there was someone right in front of her who could tell her about it. But Seyena had asked a question. A question that Mirian wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. “I… don’t know,” she finally admitted. “They just don’t. Well, sometimes they do. Usually slaves, when they escape. Or when they don’t. It depends. But most of the time they move on. Or they die.” After a pause to debate whether or not she should add onto her last statement, Mirian decided to let it be and voiced her own curiosity. “Now I have question for you. Your city, this… Kalinor. In a cave. How is it in a cave? Wouldn’t it be dark?”

[Seyena]

“I… don’t know. They just don’t. Well, sometimes they do. Usually slaves, when they escape. Or when they don’t. It depends. But most of the time they move on. Or they die.”

That last sentence caused Seyena to falter. She questioned if she had even heard it, but the subject was quickly averted, and she wasn’t willing to bring it up again. “Now I have question for you. Your city, this… Kalinor. In a cave. How is it in a cave? Wouldn’t it be dark?”

“It certainly is dark. Very. But those who live there are used to the darkness. I am sure you have heard of Symenestra. Some call us ‘Widows’,” she allowed herself to pause in contemplation of the nickname. She wasn’t sure if it was flattering or demeaning. While they are elegant and non-aggressive, the Widow spiders are known to be highly dangerous and occasionally cannibalistic.

“Compared to most, Symenestra see well without light. As it is difficult for visitors, we have fires and… bright stones lighting up the city, but it is still dark. I don’t know the word for the stones, but in Symenos they are called ‘opalgloams’. Their light is like the moon’s.” She lifted her hands to shape them in the air, imagination filling in the lines. “Kalinor is different from here. Crime is rare. Its people are safe.” She played with her fingers.

“Very different,” she repeated. Something occurred to her. “Why is Sunberth the way it is? Why must you carry a blade in your home city?” She wavered. "Now I am the one to ask so many questions. You don't have to answer."

[Mirian Jade]

“It certainly is very dark,” Seyena confirmed. “But those who live there are used to the darkness. I am sure you have heard of Symenestra.” Symenestra. The word tickled at Mirian’s memory, in the same way a legendary name might tickle at her memory, so she was sure she had heard it before… but whatever tale had given her that word escaped her now. Symenestra… the word was quiet, deceptively delicate like the woman before her. “Some call us ‘Widows.’” Widows. That was a word Mirian knew, and in a flash the tales came rushing back. Pale. Fanged. Venomous. Children-stealing. Tales that Mirian had never paid any heed to, thinking that they were tall tales meant to frighten orphans into behaving. But here was one standing before her. Or at least, Seyena was something, something that was certainly not human. If there was a possibility for Mirian to become even more curious, it was now. Fortunately, Seyena felt compelled to volunteer information before Mirian had to ask. “Compared to most, Symenestra see well without light. As it is difficult for visitors, we have fires and… bright stones lighting up the city, but it is still dark. I don’t know the word for the stones, but in Symenos they are called…” she said a word that Mirian didn’t know, but again it was a word that flowed softly over the tongue. Without thinking, Mirian made the motions with her tongue to mimic Seyena’s, although she didn’t apply sound to it. “Their light is like the moon’s,” the Widow––the Symenestra––continued, lifting her hand into the air. “Kalinor is different from here. Crime is rare. Its people are safe. Very different. Why is Sunberth the way it is? Why must you carry a blade in your home city?” She paused. "Now I am the one to ask so many questions. You don't have to answer." Mirian shrugged. “It’s alright. We’re both asking questions. Although… ah. The doctor? He protects you? I suppose he would.” Mirian knew well enough that to make an enemy of the doctor, or even his subordinates, was unwise to the point of being suicidal. “I don’t have someone like him, though. If you don’t have protection, you protect yourself. People take from you, otherwise. Food. Money. Whatever you have. This,” Mirian gestured to her knife, “is to show I’ll fight. That whatever I have, it’s not worth the trouble.” That went doubly so for the Wolfs Den. “My turn,” Mirian said, since they seemed to be taking turns at this new game of questions. “That word… opalgloam. Is that how you say it? I’m pretty sure I just butchered it. How are you supposed to say it? Is all of your language that pretty? I…” Mirian shifted her weight nervously. “Can you teach me... more?”

[Seyena]

“It’s alright. We’re both asking questions. Although… ah. The doctor? He protects you? I suppose he would. I don’t have someone like him, though. If you don’t have protection, you protect yourself. People take from you, otherwise. Food. Money. Whatever you have.” Seyena nodded sadly. She had seen thievery happen many times in this city, never having the strength in herself to put a stop to it. She wasn’t brave enough to try and knew that she couldn’t make a different even if she did. Her venomous, corroding bite was rarely very potent unless she actively kept herself from eating, as she could easily feed on rodents when fruit ran out. Even so, it hurt her heart each time she turned a blind eye.

Seyena’s gaze followed Mirian’s hand as she signaled to her knife. “This is to show I’ll fight. That whatever I have, it’s not worth the trouble.” She nodded again, understanding. It wasn’t an item malicious intent. It was self-defence. She felt sheepish about her earlier overreaction.

“My turn. That word… opalgloam.” Seyena’s eyes widened at Mirian’s attempt. “Is that how you say it? I’m pretty sure I just butchered it. How are you supposed to say it? Is all of your language that pretty? I… Can you teach me... more?”

A smile creeped onto Seyena’s face without her noticing. Someone had found interest in the language of her people. It was a rare thing for Symenos to be taught outside of Kalinor, as far as she knew. To become one of the teachers of language that she respected so much… she didn’t know how to contain her excitement.

“Of course I can teach you more. Opalgloam is a difficult word to start with. We should start with more simple words.” She tried to remember the first words she spoke in Symenos, but her memory failed her. Instead, she focused on the time she was learning Common in school. Greetings and farewells were the first phrases she had ever spoken. “Hello. That is ‘hello’. ‘Goodbye’ means goodbye.” She repeated them once more, slowly and clearly. “It is a gentle language. Speak softly and quietly. It is not too loud or too bold.” She looked to Mirian eagerly.