Solo A Friendly Meeting

[Alses]

Timestamp: 1st Day of Winter, 513 A.V.
Location: The Dusk Tower

Tea was steeping in front of her, the leaves slowly, shyly uncurling and unfurling in the convection-currents of near boiling water, a rolling application of elegant physical forces contained and corralled within the teapot.

Fragrant steam uncurled from the bubbling, roiling surface, a faint scent that grew stronger and stronger as the tea steeped and the faint colouration of the water grew darker and darker. Orange and lemon peel, definitely, with a counterpoint of spices and that indefinable undertone that was, quite simply, tea.

Alses liked watching the whole of it come together, the disparate bits of the tea-making process uniting to make something greater – and tastier – than the sum of its parts. It offered a time to get quietly absorbed in menial activity, a chance for her brain to catch up to the events unfurling all around without appearing discourteous or rude.

Yes, the little ceremony of the tea – and it was a ceremony, of sorts, a sequence of ritual actions building to something beautiful. Done right, anyway – and, living in the tea capital of the world, it was hard not to get proficient at it.

Leaves, water, gentle stirring – unconsciously in the approved figure-eight pattern of a philterer – eyes closed and breathing in the softly scented vapour, Alses calmed and centred herself at the delicate table in the Family drawing room of the Dusk Tower, a familiar place by now.

Whilst she often tried to get Chiona out into the city, at Mhakula’s or the Fleeting Comet or the Skyglass Restaurant – Lhavit was, thankfully, not short on places to take tea or fine food – sometimes the exigencies of her duties as heiress presumptive to the whole Tower meant this was impossible, and tea had to be taken in the admittedly-luxurious surroundings of House Dusk’s private quarters.

Currently, the airy room reflected velispars – or that was what the servants had called them, anyway, when she’d plucked up the courage to ask. Fiery creatures from the depths of the earth, more at home in myth than fact, rendered in burning lacquer on the furniture and sculpted in all materials practical – wood, metal, stone, a plethora of snarling and fanged mouths grinning horribly from all sides.

Three of the things, in brassy metal, supported her table-top, elaborate and intricate and slightly creepy – Alses had the persistent impression that one of them was going to come alive and bite her leg off at any minute. Which was stupid; nothing in here bore the hallmarks of Animation or magecraft - well, apart from the pop-wand in its case by the drinks cabinet bulking large in one corner, stuffed full of bottles and priceless glasses.

Never mind, never mind.

“Enjoying that?” came Chiona’s amused voice, seated comfortably opposite in one of the Dusk Tower’s many overstuffed chairs. She almost never sat primly, much preferring – in the privacy of her home, anyway – to sprawl, slump, stretch or otherwise drape herself over the maximum amount of space whilst still remaining notionally sat down.

“Good of you to come, Alse,” she murmured presently, when the little ritual of the tea was completed and Alses cradled a large cup of the Tower’s finest in her fire-opal hands. For her part, the Ethaefal shook her head in amusement – Chiona always said that at the start of their regular meetings, as though it were Alses doing her a favour of some kind.

Rather the reverse, often.

“Good of you to have me,” she replied with a smile, raising her cup in facetious toast to her host and friend. No longer mentor, exactly, although Alses certainly still thought of her that way.

“Not at all,” Chiona replied, waving a hand in dismissal, completing the standard routine. One of the Tower staff shimmered into existence soon after, bearing a tray of goodies for the pair of them, straight from the renowned kitchens of House Dusk. “Now, how are things going with your students, hmm? Mr. Secretary-” a mischievous twinkling in her eye mirrored Alses’ own – how sweet the revelation would be! “-mentioned you were wanting to entertain some of our old alumni here with a view to conducting some teaching of some kind with them?”

Alses paused briefly to savour the moment. “Mr. Mirihar, you mean?” she asked innocently. “Oh yes, I did ask him about that.”

Chiona’s face bore an expression of almost comical dismay at that. “You know? Who told you?” Her voice held all the nuance of wounded betrayal, and Alses couldn’t help the delighted trill of laughter that escaped from her voicebox and thrummed around the drawing-room.

“Zintila,” she said calmly, quietly, once her mirth died away a little. “Not someone you can really tell off, hmm?” her smile was teasing, glittering in her eyes – all part of the social game they played with one another, a cheery game of one-upmanship.

Chiona propped her head up on one hand, the very picture of a thwarted and petulant socialite – which was doubtless her intention, and part of the persona she projected. There was most definitely a functional and incisive brain underneath the froth and bubble, a core of functional steel under the gilded form. “I can try,” she muttered, “But it probably won’t make any difference. What’s done is done, and you’ll remember his name out of perversity, won’t you, student-mine?”

“Probably,” Alses admitted cheerfully. “It’s been bothering me slightly for the better part of two years, so…That said, it feels odd calling him anything other than Mr. Secretary now.”

“Mmm,” Chiona agreed. “Why was Zintila talking about our Alex?” she asked, curious. Alses’ brain raced; she’d not yet handed in all the forms and paperwork pertaining to the Councillorship, and as such rumours were all the Tower had to go on. She wasn’t about to give pole position to the Dusk Tower, Zintila’s advice – and warnings – ringing stridently in her ears.

“One of the questions She asked us during my interview concerned him and his job,” she replied, as smoothly as she was able, aura held wide and innocent with the finesse of a master of the craft, just enough sanitised dynamic change left in the radiant evolution of energy to fool other observers into believing the masque was the real thing. Powerful and subtle, it was Alses’ secret delight when dealing with the rest of the Dusk Tower, whether she liked them or not.

Chiona raised an eyebrow. “Really? How odd – but then, I’ve never been able to second-guess our goddess. Stupid to try, I suppose. So…” her face took on a friendly, conspiratorial air, her eyes narrowing slightly and her smile widening as she hunched forward. Her voice, too, took a dive down to the lower registers, and when she spoke her voice was quiet and didn’t carry far. “…do I have the pleasure of addressing the first Councillor Radiant?”

[Alses]

"No.” The word was out even before Alses had time to really think about it; Chiona’s entire face, all of her being, crumpled into sympathy and commiseration.

“Oh, Alse…” she cooed softly. “That’s such a shame! I was sure you’d get it; look at all you’ve done for the city, how high you’ve risen and how quickly!” A frown flashed over her features. “Oh. That might be the problem; I know we had to deal with a few ruffled feathers when you were made a member of staff, and some of them haven’t settled down yet, despite your track record of late.”

Chiona shook her head in dismay. “Just think what that would be like across the entire city!”

“And whilst they must be mad not to employ you, even so,” she continued, a craftly little smile flashing across her features before the dominant expression of concern reasserted itself, “The Dusk Tower is very glad to keep you.”

Another anxious examination of Alses, and then: “That said, it’s not right. Talent should out. I’ll-”

Alses raised a halting, placating hand at that point, before Chiona worked herself into a true lather of indignation and did something unwise. “We haven’t got it yet,” she said, with a little smile. That much was, at least, technically true – the position wasn’t officially recognized as being hers until she handed in the wodge of paperwork Zintila had given her, and she’d not even shown it to Mr. Secretary yet.

Chiona, for her part, blinked, thought processes derailed. “But – you had an interview with Zintila,” she pointed out, possibly as a holding statement until actual thought occurred.

“Interview does not equal position,” Alses answered calmly, the butterflies in her stomach settling as she saw a potential way out of a rather difficult situation. She was walking a tightrope over a chasm into which the white-waters of rage thundered and foamed – lying to a friend, an influential and powerful friend at that, someone who would in the fullness of time be the Matriarch of House Dusk and all its fortunes – wasn’t high on her list of things to do, and ranked up there as ‘massively unwise’ in her own personal gallery of horrors.

“Yes, but-” Chiona protested; Alses surfed her voice over Chiona’s own, a technique she’d found useful for calming the woman, forcing her to listen in all but the most angry of states.

“But nothing; Zintila has to be fair. I daresay the other applicants have been given tasks and preparatory work to do as well. She must be sure She appoints the best to the position, after all.”

Chiona frowned. “But haven’t you done enough for the city? Proving yourself is all very well, but surely you’ve done that?”

“There is a view that we’re partisan,” Alses murmured finally, having lifted her cup of tea for a calming experience, letting Chiona cool off as she did so. “My interview was quite enlightening, actually. The Dusk Tower has been my patron and my champion since we arrived in Lhavit. I know your father has spoken well of me to the other Towers and deflected criticism we didn’t even know existed, but there are elements in Lhavit, because of that, who believe I would favour this Tower and this House over the others. Deliberately.”

Chiona tipped her head sideways, quizzical now, most of her anger fizzled off into the aether, even though her aura was still unstable and changeable, overreacting to every change and shift. “You’d not favour your old friends?”

Alses laughed lightly. “Hypothetically speaking, no, I wouldn’t. Not as a member of the Council of Radiance, anyway. If you want anything from me as a magesmith, ask away.”

Chiona’s eyes sharpened. “And as a friend?”

Alses squirmed. “A friend wouldn’t ask,” she replied eventually, looking away and already feeling drained.

“Good answer,” Chiona replied eventually. “You’ve got it, haven’t you?”

That threw her. “What?” The confusion in her aura was real, that time, no fakery or tricks. She was too surprised to attempt any, in any case.

“No-one says ‘hypothetically speaking’ under normal circs, not even you,” Chiona remarked. “Please give me a little more credit for intelligence, hmm?”

Alses squirmed. “We’re in your house, Lady Dusk,” she murmured uncomfortably.

Chiona snorted, unimpressed. “And what’s that got to do with the price of Riverfall champagne?” she asked, one eyebrow raised dangerously.

In reply, Alses tapped the sides of her eyes – spies and snooping and servants with eyes and ears. The light of comprehension bloomed on Chiona’s face, and, most unusually she rose in a waterfall of silk. “Walk with me, Alse,” she commanded, face set like flint against any possibility of resistance.

Even though she’d bought herself some time with that, it wasn’t the real problem. No, the real issue was Chiona Dusk herself; friend to Alses yes but also a proud member of House Dusk and the eventual Matriarch of the whole lot. Where, in the crunch, would her loyalties truly lie? Alses had a sneaking suspicion it would lie with family and the Tower she would one day lead, no matter what she outwardly protested.

All the same, Alses yielded without fuss – she was on thin enough ice with her friend as it was. There was an ominously silent interlude as Chiona swept down through the floors of the sprawling Tower and then burst out into the wintry sunshine, her pace only slowing when they reached the curving pathways of the gardens proper.

Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked, a sharp counterpoint to the whispering susurrus of silken robes, obscuring and fuzzing sounds from inquisitive listeners trying to eavesdrop. “So. Why lie?”

That was a bit rich, even for a penitent Alses. “I haven’t-” her voice was strident; a flock of birds rose in alarm from one of the bare-branched trees, twittering wildly, and Chiona’s dangerous eyebrow rose. With an effort, Alses moderated her tones to a hoarse, hissing whisper.

“We’ve not lied, except by omission! We’ve been trying to avoid lying outright to you, Chiona, because we knew this – or worse - would happen if we did!”

[Alses]

Chiona was silent for quite a while, although she didn’t stop walking, and her aura boiled and flashed defensively, far too chaotic and difficult to penetrate – doubtless purposefully so - without serious exertion. Alses didn’t try, mutely keeping pace with the marching Lady Dusk. Anxiety boiled and rolled queasily in her stomach, the shine of her fire-opal skin dulled with the worry of it.

“Ambition’s a terrible curse,” she remarked eventually, apropos of nothing very much. “Where next, Alses? On to bigger and better things when you get bored of the Council? What if Talora vanishes again, what if the position of Day Lady comes vacant – gods defend us from that black day? You’d apply, wouldn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course you would, always grasping and running after the bright lights of fame and wealth.” There was bitterness there, all of a sudden, sharper than razors and deadlier than knives. “And loyalty can go hang. What is it you’re after, Alses? What is it you really hope to get? Are we-” she gestured all around, and then to herself “-just something to be cast aside when we’re of no further use?”

“If you were we’d be laughing in your face about our new position,” Alses replied, answering the real question with a side-order of ice. “We were trying to avoid a conflict of loyalties, and only managed to drive a wedge between us instead.”

“Loyalties?”

A half-shrug. “Please, try and see it from my point of view,” Alses began, tentative and aware the ice was so thin it was transparent. “You are my friend, my mentor and someone I trust-” She left a pause there, sure that Chiona would interrupt. Instead, the woman simply gestured impatiently for her to continue.

“But you are also the heir to House Dusk and all its riches, one day all this will be yours and you know it – so you have a duty, an obligation here, as well as whatever you might owe to me as a friend.” A sigh. “And I’m very much afraid we believe that your loyalty to your family outweighs anything towards me. Somebody told me the expression is ‘blood’s thicker than water’.”

Once again, one of those fraught silences, stretched to hideous snapping point. “Did it ever occur to you, Alses, that I might not be interested in politics? That I might find the whole thing tedious, annoying, obstructive to my own happiness and something I dearly wish I could never be concerned with?” Alses blinked, confused, and Chiona continued her little, hissed tirade.

“My father is in rude health, as far as I know, and I am perfectly happy to teach and instruct at the Tower and leave the daggers in the back to him. I don’t much care for political empire-building – I live in the lap of luxury that most people would never even dream of attaining and as a House we are extremely wealthy. What more could I want for my family? Besides,” she noted, calming, “We’ve all been served a lesson of what happens when we start getting too big for our boots. In come the Shinya, in come the shining Ethaefal, and down we all go tumbling.” A pause, Chiona’s breathing rapid and quick. “Well?” came the peremptory demand.

The Ethaefal blinked. “No?” she ventured as an answer to Chiona’s question – oddly, that seemed to defuse the tension - after another fraught moment where the whole tottering edifice of the conversation teetered on the brink.

“You’re right,” Chiona agreed with a wry twist of the lips, some of the fire gone. “I do enjoy the game, even if I play defensively, but just because I know how to play doesn’t mean I always do. I’m not Matriarch yet, Alses, it’d be good for you to keep that in mind. My father’s shrewd enough as it is; he doesn’t need my input. Asks for it, sometimes, but certainly doesn’t need it.”

Alses blinked. “And you’d never volunteer information?” she asked, curious. That sounded rather like her relationship with Ald’gare Dusk was more strained than she let on.

This time, though, it was Chiona who looked away. “All right,” she replied irritably, at some length. “I take your point, unpalatable as it is.”

A low, long sigh, an exhalation of breath that left the redoubtable Lady Dusk looking…diminished. Older, somehow, and more tired than she ever usually let on. “I hate it when my friends get involved in politics,” she muttered. “Makes it so petching hard to keep ‘em.”

Alses, for her part, blinked at this. She’d not realised – not really considered – that it was a sword that cut both ways. As much as she was feeling her way now, worried about what she could and couldn’t say to Chiona Dusk (which was entirely new territory), so Chiona was feeling the same lash and bite.

“This is a bit awful,” she muttered in agreement.

“Not all cake and fun, eh?” Chiona murmured with a weak smile. “Skyglass Walls will help you keep your friends.”

Alses snorted. “Such as they are,” she observed. “We have you, Maeki Cho, Tian J’net, and only one or two others. Most everyone else is an acquaintance, or we’ve not spent enough time with them to even judge.”

Chiona shook her head. “I always envied the common citizen,” she remarked. “I wasn’t allowed to associate much with them before – well, you know.” Alses did: the Day of Discord and all that brought. “You’re a strange one, Alse – I wish I knew what drove you so.”

Alses felt motivated, suddenly, to provide at least a little explanation, as she saw it, no matter how inadequate her words would undoubtedly be. “That’s easy,” she replied, pointing skywards. “That does. She does.”

Chiona blinked, shielding her eyes. “The sun? Syna, you mean?”

Alses nodded – that should have been a given, really. “Mmm.”

“But why, Alse? I’ll be the first to defend your right to faith, but how does that translate into catapulting yourself into the ruling classes of Lhavit?”

“We’ve seen Her, met Her, heard Her voice ring in the vaults of our mind in the language that I can no longer speak but know every breath and cadenced word of,” Alses replied quietly. “And so we know our presence here is no punishment or curse, nor even perhaps a test. Once upon a time, though, I did. I thought that if I strove and worked and raised up great works in praise of Her that one day…” she steadied herself “One day we would be brought home again. All light restored and all sins – whatever they were – forgiven. But. That is not my purpose here. I don’t know what it is, mind, but should we ever be called on then surely it would be easier to achieve a goal from a position of power and respect?”

Alses paused, to collect her thoughts and her breath both. “Despite what you may think, we do have a loyalty to this city and to her people, too. Lhavit was a sanctuary stronghold for me when we needed it most – it still is, on the bad days – and I’ll fight for that with every erg of magic in my brain and every drop of blood in my veins. Besides,” she added with half-forced jollity, “The citizens will always want someone to keep an eye on the Towers. Who watches the watchers, Chiona Dusk? Me.” A sudden grin. “Very appropriate, don’t you think?”