Our Scripts [Rak'kena]

[Serasia]

14 Summer, 511

She never did understand the appeal of the stage. The singers stretched their voices to unnatural tones. The actors sacrificed fluidity and grace for explanation and expression. And while she could appreciate the art in the costumes, Serasia could never wrap her head around the irreality of it all. It was almost embarrassing to watch their displays, and to clap politely with the others so that her bracelets chimed conspicuously on her wrists. She would be satisfied with a man on a chair, with a good story and touch of eloquence, but she was unique in that respect.

The jeweler’s apprentice kept her own gaze moving idly over the North Winds courtyard, searching for a glance from an unoccupied pair of eyes. The real actors lounged and mingled here, on the main floor. They weaved their secret dramas with every word and conversation. Honey dripped from every mouth and invisible daggers clung to each hand. These long nights were made of relationships and reputations, rising and falling like the wild sands of Eyktol. And for now, Serasia was forced to find fulfillment on the outside of the performance. She was the woman behind the curtain, who made the actors shine. In those hours she worked, serving as a live display case for Karawan’s wares, waiting for the distraction of a wealthy Eypharian’s approach. Rings and necklaces and hair pins clung to her, pushing without crossing the boundaries of taste.

But her inviting eyes showed no hint of disappointment. She loved gossip and subterfuge as much as the next Eypharian, and she would not be without it tonight. There are things a noble tells a friendly merchant, which he would not dare say to a member of his own family. Serasia had gathered up her own collection of stories over her short career, and this evening would be no different.

So she waited, reclining on a soft green chaise, with a cool glass of water on the table at her side. The night was young, the summer heat had not entirely dissipated into the slight chill of Leth’s reign, and the entertainment was still lively and fresh. Serasia found herself content, for the first time in days.

[Rak'kena]

Rak'kena wasn't exactly a typical Eypharian. In his own eyes, he was more Eypharian than most Eypharians were. Many wished to be greater, or just rode on the coattails of those greater than them, but Rak'kena, he planned on becoming nothing less than the greatest Eypharian of Ahnatep, and arriving there by nothing less than his own wickedness, his own cut-throat politics, his own craftiness. His life was consumed by these desires, but even so, he did suffer from a weakness. A weakness that was desire and enjoyment. He was a monster of lust, yet today was a little different. He was, actually, scouting the area. The theater was a place often frequented by his sister, and he wasn't searching for her per say, but more or less plotted. Scheming death was a little hobby of Rak'kena's, along with it being crucial for his thirst for revenge to be sated. Yet, the way he did it was so natural that one might think he was searching for nothing more despicable than a little company or a fine glass of wine. It was natural for him to view death as a small portion of an artistic display. Like the actors and actresses were a part of a larger, grander plot. The performances as a whole, it was art. The actresses, they were vital pieces. That was death for Rak'kena. The overall result was the art, the killing of someone important, it was vital no matter how small. Somewhere along as Rak'kena was wandering, he managed to steal a fine silver goblet of wine, perhaps a stage prop extra or some House Member's drink, but it was his now. He grinned to himself as he continued searching until that odd feeling struck him. When two eyes meet each other and they both knew the other saw them. Rak'kena had done enough of his plotting of Tuwa's death. It wasn't everyday you had a lovely lady staring at you from like that. Rak'kena took a sip of his newly acquired wine and stalked over to Serasia, a face he wasn't familiar with. "Good evening." Rak'kena stood directly in front of Serasia, so that even if she were interested in watching the theater performance, she wouldn't have the choice to. Rak'kena took a quick observation, the Eypharian lounging, the table at her side, water (refreshing, but not as good as wine). He reached out with his hand, offering her the cup he had taken, which was still nearly full despite his few casual sips from it. "It's good, you should try it."

[Serasia]

She had him. She did not know who he was, but he was alone, and she had found his eyes. A soft smile broke her stare as he approached, and an eyebrow rose almost playfully when his body moved between her, and the stage. “Good evening,” she replied, straight and honest. She reached to sip idly at her glass of water, but before she could take it there was another drink thrust into her face. Her smile did not falter as she eyed his expression, trying to discern his motives. Of course there could only be one, but she convinced herself, for now, that he meant only to start a conversation. A gracious refusal danced on the tip of her tongue, but her position compromised her judgment. If he was to eventually become a customer, she would have to oblige. In those early days, she did not realize how much like a whore a merchant often was.

The wine refreshed a piece of her that she had not remembered was stale, both warm and cool on her throat. “Thank you,” she said, setting the goblet on the table beside her instead of offering it back to him. She gestured to a similar seat on the other side. “Won’t you sit?”

With her head resting on her foremost fist, Serasia draped her second arm on the table to extend the invitation. There was a ring on her first finger, a dainty silver band set with tear-shaped emerald, sharp as poison. It might have been better fit for her female finger, but it shone the brightest in the surrounding firelight of the room and she meant to draw his attention to the jewels. “My name is Serasia. May I have yours? How are you enjoying the show?”