Closed Darkened Desires

[Coryn]

52nd Spring.
Fountain Plaza

Coryn had not yet come to a decision on her opinion of Kenash. Though she far preferred the city to travelling, in a sick twist of fate she had arrived with less freedom than what she had had to her name in Syliras. So, yes, though she was not surrounded by walls in Kenash, she was laden down with chains, if not physical then mental.

Thankfully, it was only the latter of constraints that weight upon the Svefra that day. She was free of Konrad’s presence, but not his ownership. Like Kenash, Coryn had not wholly decided what she felt towards her so-called master. She had seen the utter worse that humanity had to offer in the form of his actions and his mannerisms. He had killed, with efficiency and cold-blooded passion, and yet with her he acted entirely differently. She was his prize, his precious little jewel that he kept wrapped in a silk purse. For this, she could be nothing but thankful and appreciative.

But then…

Her jaw tightened significantly and Coryn found herself quite unable to relax anymore. She pulled herself upright, no longer resting against the white sun lounger and instead watching her surroundings warily. Konrad allowed her to wander the streets of Kenash as much as she pleased – which, until two days ago, had been not at all – but still she felt as if she was somehow betraying him.

Ridiculous, she told herself sharply and forcing her spine to connect uncomfortably back to the sun lounger. There was a quiet confidence in the back of her mind that informed Coryn he would not physically harm her if she somehow disobeyed him. She was too precious, too expensive, to damage. It was precisely why he didn't treat her in the way other slaves were kept. She was clothed for starters, and fed relatively well. To other slaves, she no doubt appeared to be practically spoilt. But then, she had no money to her name, was expected to return to him by nightfall. She had freedom, but it was a tight, tight leash that she wore, and it frequently made her choke.

But for as long as she was worth the riches he expected, she would be his Luxury Good, not to be damaged. Nobody wanted a cracked vase, after all.

But then, was that enough to stop him? The novelty of potential riches would soon be forgotten, she felt, if she pushed too far. Already he looked at her suspiciously, like he knew what went on in her mind. Which perhaps he did.

A worrying thought.

No, she needed to please the scarred man until…

Until a window of opportunity made itself known. Coryn was quite sure that once a sign of hope and escape made itself known, she would recognise it. Perhaps she woud notice it today, in the form of a kind stranger with a fast horse, or an even kinder stranger with a large wallet. But Konrad, she knew, could not be underestimated. He was not the thick-skulled murderer she had once assumed him to be. Those snakeish green eyes picked up a lot more than she had earlier given them credit for.

For now, all Coryn could do was live. A simple idea, and indeed not overly challenging to fulfil either. She needed to live the life of a slave, even if she had the mind and thinking of a free woman.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Valerius Nitrozian had also not come to a decision in regards to Kenash yet, but for entirely different reasons. When he had arrived in the city more than half a season ago he had thought he would find a miniature Ravok here, but that was obviously not the case. The dynasties were so decadent that it made anything he did seem moderate in comparison. They had little interest in religion, whereas the people of Ravok were zealous in their worship of Rhysol. Kenash was not as dark as his home, but it would have some potential, if only he could get closer to those that ruled the city.

He’d worked tirelessly to achieve that goal since he had arrived in the city, bearing unruly and often surprisingly uneducated dynasty brats that had little interest in anything besides food, sex, alcohol and violence. For all the flaws he might have, Valerius had at least gone to the University of Zeltiva to study and spoke several languages. He would never allow himself to grow as decadent as the children of the dynasties were.

Only very rarely did he allow himself to just relax and take in the sights that Kenash had to offer. The Fountain Plaza had quickly become a favourite of his, for it reminded him of his home, of the lake and the canals. The heat seemed less oppressive here. He’d bought a small snack from one of the vendors and was now walking along the stone paths, occasionally taking a small bite and almost smiling. His posture was a little more relaxed than it usually was, and he was in an almost decent mood, but he would never take his shoes off and walk around in the pools like some of the citizens of Kenash.

That would have been a bit too much. Besides, he wasn’t sure if the water was really as clean as it looked.

Instead he chose to sit down in the lounger next to Coryn. He cast a glance at her, arching an eyebrow as he did so, almost as if there was something about her that puzzled him, but he did not speak, but simply watched her for a while, the same way that she might be watching him by now. She’d wished for a kind stranger with a large wallet, an opportunity for escape. Outwardly he certainly fit the part with his silken clothes and his handsome face, but whether he really was what she was looking for remained to be seen.

[Coryn]

Despite the red chain gnosis mark that curved its way around her right breast, Coryn did not regard herself as a religious woman. Faith was something that she had distinctly lacked in the three seasons she had walked this world, replacing worship and devotion with bitterness and resentment for those who understood life better than her. In fact, apart from Nikali herself, there were no deities that Coryn would even consider to be worthy of her time.

However, she began to doubt her lack of faith the moment the well-dressed male appeared before her. Mere ticks earlier she had wished for a wealthy stranger to step into her life – could it be that here he was, an answer to her casual prayer?

Keeping her eyes half-closed to portray the illusion of relaxation, Coryn drank in his sharp appearance. Silk clothes, a nice face to look at: already he was the antithesis of Konrad, with his gnarled lips and tatty old hat (what was it with her master and that ugly hat? How she wanted to burn it!). Perhaps the only similarity between the two men was the shadow of hardness upon their faces; this male was slightly perceptibly younger than Konrad, but there was an intenseness about him that Coryn vaguely recognised from her owner.

It was this underlying similarity that stopped the Svefra from outright striking a conversation with the handsome stranger. She was still wary, but now hope and excitement sparked within her. Could life have rewarded her so brazenly, so obviously and so early into her enslaved life? Coryn didn’t dare to let herself consider the idea, lest she be disappointed by the ugly harshness of reality.

But this male had to promise something. An opportunity? A companion? An escape? Though she didn’t like to say for certain, Coryn found herself twisting to face him, now seated in the sun lounger beside her own. Pursing her lips, she considered how best to go forward. His appearance indicated wealth – she guessed that he was not the sort to socialise with typical slaves.

But she, of course, was far from typical. She had fallen from the sky, been marked by a Goddess.

A faux confident smile pulled on her lips and Coryn stretched her body languidly out, her back arched and toes – her shoes were lying on the ground beside her sun lounger – writhed and curled. Give the illusion of luxury, she told herself as she sighed theatrically, and he’ll never think you a slave.

“There’s nothing quite like doing nothing on a hot day, is there?” She asked idly, her Syliran accent more punctuated than was natural to her. There was no way she could pretend to be a Kenash native, and instead Coryn would have to embrace her obvious foreignness, even twisting it to imply that she was a person of wealth like the young man beside her. “I really am not used to the humidity of Kenash, though today isn’t too bad.”

Finally an invitation was extended to the stranger, and Coryn looked up to him from under her eyelashes. Her lips parted into an inviting smile, “are you from Kenash, or--?”

The hopefulness in her tone was obvious, unhidden.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

Coryn was right in her assumption that he didn’t socialise with typical slaves. In fact he hardly socialized with slaves at all just as he wouldn’t socialize with his dog, his cat or his dinner table, although he did of course take good care of the slaves that were in his possession. The only exception to the rule had been Melenna, the Konti, who had pried all his secrets from him and made him think, Melenna who had sung so beautifully, but Melenna was long gone, and he would never allow himself such moments of weakness again.

Of course he didn’t know that he was facing a slave now. If he had, he would not have spoken to her, would maybe not even have looked at her, but turned away and pretended that she didn’t exist. As her inferior status was not obvious though, he allowed himself to watch her a little while longer, the way she moved, the way she sighed and smiled confidently, as if she was a were the daughter of a Kenashern dynasty who could afford to spend a day doing nothing and socializing with her could possibly be useful.

"There isn’t", he agreed. "To me the Fountain Plaza is one of the most beautiful places in Kenash." He was surprised as he heard her voice, although he did not show it. It was pleasant, of course, but she spoke with an accident that betrayed that she was not from Kenash. For a moment, he wondered if she was from Ravok, from home, but the people there spoke maybe slightly differently. Zeltiva then? Or Syliras? His gaze briefly darkened at the thought of the knights, but he had his features under complete control again after a few moments.

"No, I’m not", he replied and added, "I’m from Ravok. My family are not unlike the dynasties that rule Kenash though." He watched her closely to see how she reacted to that bit of information and what kind of conclusions she would draw from it. He had spoken with a fair amount of pride in his voice. To Valerius Nitrozian status was everything, and he could not help but wonder what her exact status was. Did she have a similar background?

He noticed that there was a certain undertone to the words she had spoken, almost as if she were suddenly feeling hope, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would anybody feel hope when they were talking to a man that had several Chaon among his relatives and only cared about others as long as they were of use to him? What did she want from him?

"And you?" he asked. "Where do you come from, and what brings you to Kenash? The dynasties are hardly ever kind to outsiders, unless they can be of use to them." He made it sound as if he definitely was of use to them or, more yet, that he was exempt from the rules that applied to all other Freeborn in the city due to his family’s position.