“Resent something? Yes, we suppose so. We resent being torn from the Goldenlands and celestial bliss and hurled back to this imperfect world. We resent being unable to speak our native tongue, even though we still hear it in the vaults of our mind and despite the fact that all our thoughts resonate with its cadences. Most of all I resent existing as a half-ruined thing and a patchwork person.” Her voice had been calm and level but charged with vitriolic fury, channelled and tamed to flow only where she willed it to.
“But. Those who caused it are either dead in the cataclysm or beyond our reach, so…it follows that being resentful without a target, being resentful of the entire world, is counterproductive at best.” She shrugged, nonchalantly. “’Tis just sense, Companion Zeran – and a touch of pragmatism, admittedly. Doesn’t mean we have to always like it.”
She gave him a slightly frosty, distant smile, and clarified her position to the restless Companion. “We weren’t apologising to you for expressing ourselves,” she pointed out mildly, “Merely for the irrelevance of it. Our differences with some of my-” her mouth twisted in distaste; Alses, for all she tried to hide it behind courtly manners and the distance of the Ethaefal, was still a prideful and opinionated creature, very much imperfect beneath the shining exterior “-brethren are of no consequence to yourself; we doubt you’ll meet any so-called Forsaken in Lhavit in any case.”
Head tipped slightly to one side, crown-of-horns blazing with refracted light, she watched him, his seemingly-insatiable curiosity about everything and anything turning his head hither and yon, seeing him take a few steps in one direction and then just as many in another, flicking from one point of interest to another every few ticks.
She wondered, idly, if auristics – should he be accepted, and prove to have any real talent for it – would calm that side of him. Information continually flowed to her from all sides, a comforting whispering susurrus in her ears, a shimmering sparkle that eagerly resolved itself to deeper meaning and greater intricacy at any pause in her gaze mantled everything in a glowing corona, and her skin was forever caressed with fleeting impressions from all around.
As a master, the world bowed before her Sight and offered forth its hidden bounties readily and without stint. Either Zeran would find, if he ever reached the lofty pinnacle of mastery, that his curiosity was readily sated by his passive power, or he’d dive too deep, see too much, and become lost in the magic.
That was forever the sword every aurist struggled with, to a degree. Some managed it with asceticism, with meditation and study and rigid self-control. Others took to hedonism, to pleasure unbounded and unbridled, seeking to drown the siren-sweet seductions of the power in mundane experiences. Alses had taken a third path, one that fitted nicely into her way of looking at the world; she skimmed, always and forever, dancing across the surface of what was there and delighting in the artist unseen’s surpassing skill, enjoying the elusive sensation of surprise.
A smile touched her perfect face as her words opened up another perspective for Zeran on his brand – she’d call it a tattoo when it glowed brilliantly on his arm, and not before. “Perspective is everything,” she added, reinforcing her brilliant smile even as she watched his antics, staring wide-eyed at the broad black blemish on his skin. “And yes, high time you changed that blob, in our opinion.”
She’d touched a nerve, that much was evident; gone was the pleasant, if hyperactive, Companion Zeran, the shell lifted up to expose a harder, rawer core. “We didn’t say it had to be physical strength,” she replied equably, senses greedily drinking in the new facet of Zeran’s personality, a little extra titbit of information she could use. “Sorcerous skill is the more prized attribute, in Lhavit, at least.” How could it be otherwise, with the three great Towers, Bharani’s knowledgeable bulk and the plethora of independent mages and sorcerers who thronged the city’s shining streets?
Martial skill only took one so far, after all – magic could carry you much further, if it didn’t make you crash and burn in a blaze of djed, of course.
“Our system isn’t perfect," Alses admitted, conceding that point at least. "We don’t think any system is, really, but it is at least always in flux, always growing and changing with the times. People find loopholes, or simply act outside the remit of the law, it’s true, or sometimes try and spin the letter of our laws into a shield against the spirit in which they were meant, but sooner or later the city catches up. Every time that happens, a loophole closes, a new law is written up or the wording is changed to better reflect the spirit behind the ink, and there slowly become fewer and fewer ways to exploit it.” She laughed, shortly, a bright trill of sound. “That’s the theory as we understand it, anyway.”
Her expression turned pensive and considering for a moment, the smile running off her lips. “Of course, where Zintila is involved all bets are off, although She doesn’t rule in the conventional sense. Lucky for us She is a…” Alses hunted for a word for a moment; she’d been going to say ‘benevolent’, but it didn’t fit quite as well as perhaps it once would have, now that Alses had actually met Her. “…just goddess.”
“Believe me, we know corruption can spring in even those thought to have the purest of hearts,” she murmured – there was a touch of distant sadness in her expression now. “The Anchorite being the most immediate example. Five hundred years of upright and honourable service, only to crash and burn and try to take the Ethaefal of this city with her.”
She shook her head, to free it of the memories. “Enough,” she commanded. “It’s making us maudlin. Companion Zeran, we can’t speak for the board of masters and the Dusks; I was simply conjecturing what might be asked of you, especially since you yourself have admitted that your mind is ‘messed up’, as we believe you put it earlier.” A brief smile, a flickering upcurve of the lips that vanished almost as soon as it had come.
“I’m not sure that the priests and priestesses of Rak’keli who fill the ranks of the Catholicon would be overly pleased at being described as ‘professional butchers’, either.” She paused, just a heartbeat or two, thinking. “We’re not speaking from experience here, you understand, but I daresay the remorseless murderer is quite happy with his own life. Likewise the slave who’s never known anything but chains. As for us being happy with how we live…I can’t deny there’s not some friction over some of the things I do. But. The people who argue with me over it do so because they care for our well-being, and that is something I find laudable, even if we don’t always appreciate it at the time. Likewise with the Tower; cared-for novices make for responsible apprentices who make for grateful alumni and sensible mages without a penchant for arcane destruction on a grand scale.”
Alses shrugged. "It’s worked so far; long may it continue.”
She watched Zeran drink it all in and turn to go, to pass from the combined orbit of their lives. “The pleasure was mine, Zeran,” she replied, after a heartbeat. “You have an…interesting…outlook on life, to be sure.”
His last question, eyes shielded against the sun as he looked up at her radiant form, brought a faint chuckle to her lips, bubbling out into the world. “Avarice,” she chided gently – although in actuality it was more probably simply the fierce desire to learn and to experience, given even greater urgency by a finite lifespan. “No, Companion Zeran, you may not. Attain some measure of competence in the discipline and we’ll let you see the world with an expert’s eye. If you manage to acquire expertise in the field, then I shall show you the world as I see it, in all its glory and wonder. Temptation is a very seductive thing, after all, and I shouldn’t like you to lose your mind to a moment's weakness.”
Alses returned his bow, then, slightly shallower. “Goodbye, Zeran, and good luck with your application.”
END
“But. Those who caused it are either dead in the cataclysm or beyond our reach, so…it follows that being resentful without a target, being resentful of the entire world, is counterproductive at best.” She shrugged, nonchalantly. “’Tis just sense, Companion Zeran – and a touch of pragmatism, admittedly. Doesn’t mean we have to always like it.”
She gave him a slightly frosty, distant smile, and clarified her position to the restless Companion. “We weren’t apologising to you for expressing ourselves,” she pointed out mildly, “Merely for the irrelevance of it. Our differences with some of my-” her mouth twisted in distaste; Alses, for all she tried to hide it behind courtly manners and the distance of the Ethaefal, was still a prideful and opinionated creature, very much imperfect beneath the shining exterior “-brethren are of no consequence to yourself; we doubt you’ll meet any so-called Forsaken in Lhavit in any case.”
Head tipped slightly to one side, crown-of-horns blazing with refracted light, she watched him, his seemingly-insatiable curiosity about everything and anything turning his head hither and yon, seeing him take a few steps in one direction and then just as many in another, flicking from one point of interest to another every few ticks.
She wondered, idly, if auristics – should he be accepted, and prove to have any real talent for it – would calm that side of him. Information continually flowed to her from all sides, a comforting whispering susurrus in her ears, a shimmering sparkle that eagerly resolved itself to deeper meaning and greater intricacy at any pause in her gaze mantled everything in a glowing corona, and her skin was forever caressed with fleeting impressions from all around.
As a master, the world bowed before her Sight and offered forth its hidden bounties readily and without stint. Either Zeran would find, if he ever reached the lofty pinnacle of mastery, that his curiosity was readily sated by his passive power, or he’d dive too deep, see too much, and become lost in the magic.
That was forever the sword every aurist struggled with, to a degree. Some managed it with asceticism, with meditation and study and rigid self-control. Others took to hedonism, to pleasure unbounded and unbridled, seeking to drown the siren-sweet seductions of the power in mundane experiences. Alses had taken a third path, one that fitted nicely into her way of looking at the world; she skimmed, always and forever, dancing across the surface of what was there and delighting in the artist unseen’s surpassing skill, enjoying the elusive sensation of surprise.
A smile touched her perfect face as her words opened up another perspective for Zeran on his brand – she’d call it a tattoo when it glowed brilliantly on his arm, and not before. “Perspective is everything,” she added, reinforcing her brilliant smile even as she watched his antics, staring wide-eyed at the broad black blemish on his skin. “And yes, high time you changed that blob, in our opinion.”
She’d touched a nerve, that much was evident; gone was the pleasant, if hyperactive, Companion Zeran, the shell lifted up to expose a harder, rawer core. “We didn’t say it had to be physical strength,” she replied equably, senses greedily drinking in the new facet of Zeran’s personality, a little extra titbit of information she could use. “Sorcerous skill is the more prized attribute, in Lhavit, at least.” How could it be otherwise, with the three great Towers, Bharani’s knowledgeable bulk and the plethora of independent mages and sorcerers who thronged the city’s shining streets?
Martial skill only took one so far, after all – magic could carry you much further, if it didn’t make you crash and burn in a blaze of djed, of course.
“Our system isn’t perfect," Alses admitted, conceding that point at least. "We don’t think any system is, really, but it is at least always in flux, always growing and changing with the times. People find loopholes, or simply act outside the remit of the law, it’s true, or sometimes try and spin the letter of our laws into a shield against the spirit in which they were meant, but sooner or later the city catches up. Every time that happens, a loophole closes, a new law is written up or the wording is changed to better reflect the spirit behind the ink, and there slowly become fewer and fewer ways to exploit it.” She laughed, shortly, a bright trill of sound. “That’s the theory as we understand it, anyway.”
Her expression turned pensive and considering for a moment, the smile running off her lips. “Of course, where Zintila is involved all bets are off, although She doesn’t rule in the conventional sense. Lucky for us She is a…” Alses hunted for a word for a moment; she’d been going to say ‘benevolent’, but it didn’t fit quite as well as perhaps it once would have, now that Alses had actually met Her. “…just goddess.”
“Believe me, we know corruption can spring in even those thought to have the purest of hearts,” she murmured – there was a touch of distant sadness in her expression now. “The Anchorite being the most immediate example. Five hundred years of upright and honourable service, only to crash and burn and try to take the Ethaefal of this city with her.”
She shook her head, to free it of the memories. “Enough,” she commanded. “It’s making us maudlin. Companion Zeran, we can’t speak for the board of masters and the Dusks; I was simply conjecturing what might be asked of you, especially since you yourself have admitted that your mind is ‘messed up’, as we believe you put it earlier.” A brief smile, a flickering upcurve of the lips that vanished almost as soon as it had come.
“I’m not sure that the priests and priestesses of Rak’keli who fill the ranks of the Catholicon would be overly pleased at being described as ‘professional butchers’, either.” She paused, just a heartbeat or two, thinking. “We’re not speaking from experience here, you understand, but I daresay the remorseless murderer is quite happy with his own life. Likewise the slave who’s never known anything but chains. As for us being happy with how we live…I can’t deny there’s not some friction over some of the things I do. But. The people who argue with me over it do so because they care for our well-being, and that is something I find laudable, even if we don’t always appreciate it at the time. Likewise with the Tower; cared-for novices make for responsible apprentices who make for grateful alumni and sensible mages without a penchant for arcane destruction on a grand scale.”
Alses shrugged. "It’s worked so far; long may it continue.”
She watched Zeran drink it all in and turn to go, to pass from the combined orbit of their lives. “The pleasure was mine, Zeran,” she replied, after a heartbeat. “You have an…interesting…outlook on life, to be sure.”
His last question, eyes shielded against the sun as he looked up at her radiant form, brought a faint chuckle to her lips, bubbling out into the world. “Avarice,” she chided gently – although in actuality it was more probably simply the fierce desire to learn and to experience, given even greater urgency by a finite lifespan. “No, Companion Zeran, you may not. Attain some measure of competence in the discipline and we’ll let you see the world with an expert’s eye. If you manage to acquire expertise in the field, then I shall show you the world as I see it, in all its glory and wonder. Temptation is a very seductive thing, after all, and I shouldn’t like you to lose your mind to a moment's weakness.”
Alses returned his bow, then, slightly shallower. “Goodbye, Zeran, and good luck with your application.”
END
