"Is everyone okay?" After a sound beating to the shoulder and head with that awful club, Cairee realized she was very close to passing out. Without waiting for a reply, she clutched at her necklace, praying to Saiph for help.
”Scratches,” Tymythy grunted, using his tongue to feel out his bruised gums, relieved that none of his teeth felt loose. He knelt to clean blood from his sword on the shirt of the fallen bandit, then walked back to consider the fate of his spear, splattered with corrosive poison as it was.
The final bandit limped around the corner with Dounia's notched arrow trained on him the entire time. She lowered her bow and crawled down from the carriage to examine the chain.
Zahra and Tymythy could see Cairee through the windows of the carriage nursing her wounded shoulder and head. As Cairee looked back all three could see Haseena inside as she breathed a sigh of relief. Tymythy looked down at his spear and the fear of it had weakened. It was like the fear of being bitten by a poisonous spider and the spider had been shaken off. For good measure he wiped the blade assiduously and took it up again. Zahra, in the meantime, whispered soft words to the wind and caltrops slowly started to roll to one side of the alley.
The chain appeared to have been mounted in the wall on iron rings cemented into the buildings on either side. It was perhaps some city installed traffic control and was kept in place with an exceedingly simple lock. She had it unlatched in six seconds flat.
As everyone piled back into the carriage Haseena thumped her cane on the ceiling, "Safer streets if you please Othman."
"Of course Madame."
Cairee slumped in the carriage, still nursing her wounds. She had come very close to passing out. Even with Saiph's intervention she still felt woozy, and pain radiated from her shoulder all the way to her finger tips. There was no way she'd be able to do anything at the theatre other than whimper. She focused her energy on her shoulder, trying to relieve some of the pain. Then she showed her bloody and torn clothes to Zahra. "I'm sorry, I've managed to tear my jacket. Is there anything you can do?"
As the cart started rolling again Haseena looked at Cairee,"Come, sit by me girl." The old woman took the cleric's hand with her right. Haseena padded over her own heart and rocked back and forth slightly in time with her heartbeat. As she did so she hummed. It sounded like a lullaby and a tremendous warmth and calm came over Cairee. All signs of bruising and swelling from both her wounds disappeared.
"What are you waiting for? Mend that dress suit.", Haseena called out to Zahra. The old woman then started to sing a light song about a group of women going down to the river to wash clothes. She passed her hand over Tymythy and Dounia again and again. Any signs of blood or dirt from the scrap slowly disappeared.
"Now, for Cairee and Zahra ... especially Zahra. Take my hand, and you Dounia. You are from this part of the world. You shall disguise her best." She took both girls by the hand, "'Whenever-those-seek-to-know-if-you-be-bird-or-beast-virtuous-or-coniving- whether-you-lie-or-speak-true-let-them-see-this-one-and-be-decieved'. That should hold for a good six hours."
She then took Cairee's and Tymythy's hand, "And you are both Divolgatian ... or from that country anyway. 'Whenever-those-seek-to-know-if-you-be-bird-or-beast-virtuous-or-coniving-w hether-you-lie-or-speak-true-let-them-see-this-one-and-be-decieved'."
As the old woman built her arcane disguises the four still-new friends could see lamplight of every colour on great city posts. The carriage had reached a long thoroughfare with great buildings on either side. Most had long banners flowing in a gentle breeze. Signs in Limaninite indicated - 'Grand Music Hall', 'The Magician's Grotto'. One long section of the street was taken by an enormous tent accompanied by a few squaare structures with towers attached and a long purple banner 'Circus alMutasharid'.
Tymythy shifted uneasily on his seat as Haseena took his hand and wove her spell over him and Cairee. He didn’t understand the woman’s short explanation – she had mentioned disguises but try as he might, hard as he stared, he could see no changes on Cairee and Zahra, the ones she had cast her spell first. A disguise that didn’t change how one appeared? What value was such a thing? Yet he knew enough that he couldn’t trust his own judgment on matters magical, so he held his tongue to needlessly avoid looking like a fool.
Instead, he focused on analyzing the previous battle, taking the encounter apart move by move, considering where he could have done better – not where he could have driven a strike home instead of missing, as that was something not for him to decide on his own, but if there had been other enemies he would have prioritized, other moves he could have made to draw the enemies’ ire on him while also doing his part to take them down. He closed his eyes as he let the encounter play in his mind, trying to reason how the enemies might have reacted had he done this instead of that, all the while his fingers played with two tufts of hair – trophies he had collected from the foes he had just bested in battle.
Dounia was becoming accustomed to the sensation of being magically cleansed. She especially liked how it always fixed her hair. I really need to learn this spell. I wonder if Cyra can learn magic. It would be so good for keeping sand out of the kitchen too!
Dounia had just finished stuffing her bow back into the magical bag (along with the three caltrops she'd grabbed). She bristled as the old woman took her hand. "I shall disguise her best? What about me? I don't want to get attacked because of her." She glanced over at Zahra and hastily added, "No offense."
She forgot her indignation as the tents came into view. "Is that it?" she asked, her eyes wide with delight.
..."I shall disguise her best? What about me? I don't want to get attacked because of her." She glanced over at Zahra and hastily added, "No offense."
She forgot her indignation as the tents came into view. "Is that it?" she asked, her eyes wide with delight.
Haseena let out a practiced giggle, "Hmhmhmhm, you misunderstand little one. Should anyone try to discern anything about her magical nature they will instead see your aura. That is what I am hiding. Why do you wish to be hidden? What would you look like? If you could look like - anyone. And, no, this is not 'it'. That is the Vagabond's Imaginarium - the greatest circus on the face of all Aerde."
Tha carriage fell into a cue of carriages, many of which were festooned with glass-shielded candles, golden tracery and gilding, the horses were in fine embroidered comparisons. Servants hung off the sides, young boys ready to jump off and run alongside as the carriages came to a little round-about.
The building at the far side of the roundabout looked like an oval layer cake of blue ceramic and gold leaf. From a distance you could all see a great glass atrium window on the roof sitting before an enormous dome. If the building looked like a layer cake then it appeared to be decorated all about with minaret candles. Some of the little towers, and the point of the dome, must reach between eighty and one-hundred feet high.
The entire building was lit up like a celebration, sconces with gaslit lanterns sprouted from every surface, and people in their finery lifted skirts and capes making sure not to soil them in the leavings of the first horses of the night.
The carriage came to a stop in front of the building and Othman rushed to open Haseena's door. You could hear her audibly sigh before she stepped out into the night air.
As you all follow her out you one-by-one notice that instead of the sixty something woman who brought you here, a woman of maybe twenty-six is standing waiting for you all to join her. Her white hair a light, flowing gold. Her eyes unlined. Her hands soft and unspotted. She giggled like an ingenue as she twirled allowing her cloak to bell outward. The serious experienced woman was gone and a lady just coming into the powers of her adulthood took her place.
Haseena smiled with her hands to her face to cover half the smile up then reached out to Zahra, "Hurry! We don't want to miss drinks before the dumbshow! Everyone will be mixing!" With Zahra's hand in hers like they were sisters the young Haseena started toward the front arches with alacrity! As they got closer she slowed down and feigned a more sober promenade pulling her student arm-in-arm, into her confidence.
As the cart started rolling again Haseena looked at Cairee,"Come, sit by me girl." The old woman took the cleric's hand with her right. Haseena padded over her own heart and rocked back and forth slightly in time with her heartbeat. As she did so she hummed. It sounded like a lullaby and a tremendous warmth and calm came over Cairee. All signs of bruising and swelling from both her wounds disappeared...
...She then took Cairee's and Tymythy's hand, "And you are both Divolgatian ... or from that country anyway. 'Whenever-those-seek-to-know-if-you-be-bird-or-beast-virtuous-or-coniving-w hether-you-lie-or-speak-true-let-them-see-this-one-and-be-decieved'."
Cairee felt a wave of warmth wash over her, easing the throbbing in her shoulder and temple. It felt both familiar and strange, similar to the healing Saiph provided and yet different too... it was hard to articulate. It made Cairee feel both connected to Haseena and a little lonely, touching upon a power she couldn't access herself.
When their guardian took her hand and Tymythy's, Cairee had an idea as to what she was doing - somehow diverting attention away from her aura. She hoped it was safe for Tymythy, who hadn't had any say in the matter.
Cairee stared out the carriage window, taking in all of the marvels before her. Zhayalammar was truly a magnificent city, and every corner presented some new sight to gaze at in wonder. The theatre was no different, and Cairee felt a tiny glimmer of excitement among all of her dread and anxiety. It was stunning, and she'd get to see it up close!
Cairee heard Haseena mutter and looked up to see a much younger version of the woman grinning at her. The transformation was impressive, and sparked so many questions in the cleric. Instead she returned the grin and took both Dounia and Tymythy by the arm, ready to play her part in their own private theatre.
Dounia heard Haseena mutter what she thought was a prayer, but it turned out to be a pretty impressive spell. "You look great!" she said, grinning. "Is that what you looked like before you got old?"
She got out of the cart with Cairee and allowed her to take her arm. She saw Tymythy stiffen - she doubted the northern warrior would be up for companionable giggling. She pulled the red haired preistess away from him, allowing him to walk in a dignified fashion behind them.
As they reached the queue, she whispered to Cairee, "Remember, we're very important, everybody wants to be us, and we have secrets. Cool ones."
Tymythy stared at the ornate marvel of a building with a frown plastered on his face. Hadn’t the people here ever heard of the words “too much” in that particular order? Blue tiles and gold… he was about to think of “ornaments” but had to correct himself and go for “paint” instead – although he wouldn’t be willing to bet against the chance of actual gold having been used to cover parts of the building’s exterior. Add to that all the glass – valuable, fragile, precious glass, something few buildings in Tymythy’s clan’s holdings boasted with – he was more disgusted than impressed. Wealth enough to feed whole tribes, and what did these people do with it? Impress each other. These people might not be frothing at the mouth, but they were clearly mad.
Once the time to step out arrived Tymythy stuck his horrendous feather-decodated shako on his head, bundling his hair inside, then took his place on the steps, trusting on Haseena to manage the order of their emergence, according to whatever local customs proved relevant to the case. As Cairee reached for his hand he almost flinched back, but managed to control his reflexes at the last moment. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs, then breathing out slowly. If he was this wound up already, things wouldn’t go smoothly inside. But it was difficult to ignore just how far from his element he was.
Give him a herd of sheep to guard, or a wolf to run down any day, instead of this predatory flock of gilded peacocks!
Zahra scooted over to make room for Cairee as Haseena requested that she sit beside her. The proximity of Cairee allowed the sorceress-in-training access to the ripped dress and she went to work concentrating on mending the garment until no one could tell that they had been in a fight.
Zahra couldn't help but notice that she was getting much more proficient and comfortable in practicing magic. She enjoyed the process and liked how it made her feel, but she wouldn't admit that out loud to anyone. How could she enjoy something that would bring hardship to her parents?
She gawked out the window as they approached the theatre. The building was so beautiful, so magnificent. She had no words, she just basked in the glow from all the lights until their carriage came to a stop and it was their turn to exit.
Zahra stopped mid-step and gasped as she was greeted with Haseena's new facade. She recognized her mentor because of old pictures she had seen in her manor but she was momentarily dumbstruck. It took Haseena reaching for her hand and dragging her along to get Zahra's feet moving again.
Zahra couldn't help but return Haseena's smile and easily fell into step, her excitement overtaking her surprise. "Is that something I get to learn? You're absolutely beautiful!"
She linked her arm with Haseena and did her best to mirror her actions. "Drinks? Yes! Let's do that! Sounds marvellous."
Zahra threw a smile over her shoulder at the others, "Come on, slow pokes! We don't want to miss a second of this amazing night."
Dounia heard Haseena mutter what she thought was a prayer, but it turned out to be a pretty impressive spell. "You look great!" she said, grinning. "Is that what you looked like before you got old?"
Haseena looked back at Dounia and paused for half a heartbeat then let out a joyful little giggle at the girl's earnest compliment.
People of many races drew towards the loggia (a kind of columned balcony - a foyer without doors). A long contingent of Dwarves gathered - it looked like different family groups socializing. A lordly looking pair of Teiflings with their train of followers. A small group of high-elves traveled quietly and keeping to themselves. There were women and men of all estates, wealthy and common, city and desert, local and citizens from across Aerde and Eotengaerde in the north.
Just inside the loggia a few people gathered. They seemed to be talking private business before they have to stay quiet for four hours and there was a 2'x3' placard with writing in Limaninite.
Pantomime
The Duel of Niliyanna and Marram
Overture
Flight of the Ancients
Director - Naeimithl alZubda
Conductor - Aleuzla
Act I - The Passion of Musezeru A Saludingir
First Intermission
Act II - The Thousand Calamities
Second Intermission
Act II - The Death of Dollereeze
fin
After a quick walk about the strange oval interior, with a ceiling that stepped higher as the group moved toward the centre (the inside of the layer cake), you could see that people moved to different rooms to congregate, make polite conversation, or promenade just to be seen.
There was the foyer where most people who just arrived gathered. It was the are that was most mixed.
There was the Ossuary Hall where the middle class seemed to group and talk loudly and drank.
There was the Orrery Hall where the very wealthy gathered and drank.
There were the Libretto Library and the Costume Gallery where a few people either visited for cultural enlightenment or tried to find some small amount of private space.
Porters came through the foyer, library, and gallery with platters of drinks and appetizers. There were full bars in the Ossuary and Orrery halls.
Zahra's head was tilted upwards as she took in the opulence and grandeur of the inside of the building. She had never seen something so epic in her short life.
Her eyes sparkled and her jaw was slightly dropped in awe. Her gaze then lowered to take in the many different groups clustered around. She was used to diversity having grown up in a merchant family in Zhayalammar but she was completely dazzled by the finery in which everyone was dressed. It was even more magnificent than she had imagined. And she was here with them! For tonight, she was important and her beautiful face beamed with excitement that somehow made her even more fetching to those around her.
She saw the playbill for the show that evening and translated it for the benefit of her new friends. She giggled a bit as she saw Tymythy and Dounia's faces fall at the length of the performance. She leaned in and whispered, "I'm glad we practiced sitting properly."
Haseena explained the different rooms of the theatre as the group moved throughout the building. Zahra remembered her lessons and made sure that her posture was perfect with her shoulders back and chin up which also made her chest more prominent - not that she noticed but the eyes of some of the others in the room did.
Zahra paused and gathered the others around her, "Do you think it too forward for us to go to the Orrery Hall? I may not get another chance to mingle with the fabulously wealthy and I would very much like to experience it." What she left unsaid was how wonderful it would be if she could catch the eye of a wealthy suitor. Money made everyday problems go away after all, didn't it?
Dounia strode - no - floated confidently into the foyer of the theatre. Finally! My day has arrived! This is what life will be like once Father finds us. She tried to take in the wealth and splendor without gawking. She felt that she was doing a good job hiding her wonderment at the spectacle before her.
And the wealth! Such wealth! Jewels and silks, fingers dripping with rings and throats wrapped with diamonds. Her fingers twitched, and the girl actually found herself walking a few steps towards a likely-looking mark before she remembered herself. Wait, remember, we're not here for that. But...but...the pretties!!
Scolding herself, Dounia forced herself to pay attention as Zahra read out the placard. Four hours! At least there will be intermissions. I wonder if we're allowed to bring drinks into the theatre.
Taking a skewer of spicy meat from a passing porter, Dounia admired how the meat was cut and arranged to allow her to eat it without danger of dripping on her dress or spoiling her gloves. "I could get used to this," she said with a smile.
Zahra paused and gathered the others around her, "Do you think it too forward for us to go to the Orrery Hall? I may not get another chance to mingle with the fabulously wealthy and I would very much like to experience it." What she left unsaid was how wonderful it would be if she could catch the eye of a wealthy suitor. Money made everyday problems go away after all, didn't it?
"Definitely," Dounia said, her eyes alight. She rather hoped Haseena would go another direction - she felt the now-young woman's gaze on her like a hawk.
The loggis opened into the foyer who's ceiling, more than twice the height of any person, was covered in star shaped interlocking copper plates. The room was roundish, framed in by pillars grouped in fours. The floor was a tiled pattern of a five petaled flower with a mathematical path of vine work weaving outward.
Haseena was immediately stopped by three gentlemen quick to introduce themselves. One, a man in his forties, wore a red serge and clicked the heals of his pointed toed shoes. His clothes were more practical and less dress and he appeared to be the captain of something - definitely not city guard. As she spoke with them, a long delighted smile on her face, she nodded to the four of you.
You could read the intention of her nod easily. 'I will catch up with you later. Don't go far. Enjoy yourselves.'
So you move through the crowd of the foyer, past a tower staircase which led to four stacked rings of balconies. From these balconies one could access the private boxes. The staircase itself was - confusing, almost like a small labyrinth of steps and bridges. Not every way up led to every floor and you could see some new people trying to quietly figure out how to get to their boxes.
Past the staircase you all entered a silo, the inside of a fifty foot tower with a domed ceiling. The room was at least sixty feet in diameter. A circular bar was at the exterior wall furthest from the theatre house and porters politely gathered about it to get people drinks.
A little sign on the bar stated clearly:
Coffee 1gp / Pulque 4sp / Baijiu 20gp / Glace (Issmenadore) 15gp / Rosé (Dollerisium) 18gp / Claret (Khabazala) 20gp / Prosecco (Issmenadore) 25gp / Dabuwr Mead 100gp
The floor here was a small tile mosaic of the firmament - the sun at the centre surrounded by rings upon which rode the two moons. Around one moon circled three satellites. Around the other five satellites. All of this floated in a sea of deep blue tiles. Upon the walls mounted high up were thousands of brass studs representing stars and the domed roof was a pattern of lacing that looked like a mathematical marvel.
About the perimeter of the Orrery Hall two Tieflings circled slowly. The train of the woman's gown was being held by two small goblin's in livery.
Near the house by a grand pillar stood a very pale man with three woman whom appeared to have never left the city they were so white skinned.
About the centre of the room was a gaggle of women talking giddily amongst themselves and not far from them a grouping of men doing the same.
Not far from the bar were several men and women, humans and elves and some obviously touched by both races, wearing similar suits of blue and grey and silver.
Others dotted the room in smaller groups many of whom looked to be from other countries in Aerde and Eotengaerde.
Cairee had thought she was ready for this. But as they entered the foyer her heart sank. It wasn't the the grandeur of the building or overt displays of wealth and power dripping off the guests (though those were impressive). It was the shine that immediately appeared in Zahra and Dounia's eyes - both yearning to fit in and impress. Both ready to be seduced by this excessive lifestyle, making them easy targets to...well, anything.
Haseena's private warning to her and Tymythy flashed through her head and she turned to the warrior. "We must not let them out of our sight. One of us must be with one of them at all times."
When the old/young woman turned to her admirers, Cairee's anxiety took over. If she was unable to play the role of a doe-eyed socialite, perhaps she could be a nervous governess to two silly girls. She followed Zahra into the Orrery, staying close and glaring off anyone she caught staring at the young girl's chest. When Dounia headed to the bar she sent Tymythy after her. "Coffee only, for all of us if you please."
It was a crying shame the “mask” Haseena had mentioned turned out to be some sort of obscuring enchantment rather than a physical covering for his face, Tymythy thought as he followed close behind Zahra as the ladies navigated their way through the sea of people. A mask would have been so very useful in masking his expression, after all. The backwoods-hunter knew very well he could never actually fit in naturally to this crowd, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself gazing at every wonder in openmouthed surprise… while wearing the regalia of a local soldier, an officer, someone who should be at least partially used to such sights and sounds. So Tymythy did his best to hide his insecurity behind an expression of studied disinterest, acting as a bodyguard to the ladies might, ignoring the clothes and glimmers of gold while concentrating on eyes that might betray hostile intentions and hands that might reach for a weapon… as much as anyone could keep track of concealed weapons quietly brought out as any killer worth his training could hide their intentions behind the bodies of other guests.
Haseena's private warning to her and Tymythy flashed through her head and she turned to the warrior. "We must not let them out of our sight. One of us must be with one of them at all times."
"Agreed. I will do my best to stick to them," he murmured back, leaning close to whisper his answer into her ear to avoid anyone listening in.
Zahra's eyes twinkled with excitement as Haseena dismissed them with a nod. She gave her mentor a smile before moving off to explore the many rooms and meet new people.
As they made their way to the Orrery, Zahra drank in the scenery. People watching in the bazaar was interesting enough but this was a whole new level. Everyone walking around represented a story that she couldn't wait to hear.
Just when she thought the building couldn't be more beautiful, she walked into the Orrery and saw the heavens brought to life on the floor and walls. She had never seen anything like it. Yet the young woman found that the decor couldn't hold a candle to the people that were in the room. Her eyes flitted from group to group wondering what their stories were. She thought that the tieflings looked like royalty and she also wondered how the pale man survived in Zhayalammar, obviously forgetting what part of the city she was in, but it was the group of men that drew her immediate attention. She reached for Cairee's arm and linked it in hers. "We should walk around and see if there's anyone interesting to talk to."
"Coffee?!" Dounia said a little too loudly. "You have to be joking. Surely we can afford at least a glass of glace each?"
She realized that Zahra was drifting off towards a group of pale men. I wonder if they're vampires! She stared at them, rather obviously, trying to determine their state of life, death, unlife, or undeath.
... When Dounia headed to the bar she sent Tymythy after her. "Coffee only, for all of us if you please."
"Coffee?!" Dounia said a little too loudly. "You have to be joking. Surely we can afford at least a glass of glace each?"
A young woman dressed in porter's livery and who appeared to have Mattiyilor (Grey Elf) ancestry stopped as she was passing. She spoke softly, "Apologies to the Miss but we only sell wines by the bottle. Your bottle will be held for you at the bar. You may have it taken to your seat ... if you have a private box or take it home at the end of the night. Unfinished bottles go to the staff. You may also send bottles to the performers which they will receive at curtain." You could hear a presumption of ignorance but the porter was careful to avoid being condescending.
____As Dounia starred at the four pale attendees the man, dressed in his dark suit and one shoulder cape didn't seem to notice. The women (one with pitch black hair, one with light brown hair, and one with auburn hair) were all dress in strapless gowns in shades of red. Their bodies had been turned to each other but, upon noticing Dounia's gawping, opened up to the room. The black haired woman looked back with a light smile and stepped slightly forward but didn't leave the group.
When Dounia headed to the bar she sent Tymythy after her. "Coffee only, for all of us if you please."
She reached for Cairee's arm and linked it in hers. "We should walk around and see if there's anyone interesting to talk to."
Zahra started to lead Cairee towards the group of men. Seeing that Tymythy was following them, Cairee unwound herself from Zahra and hurried after Dounia.
"Coffee?!" Dounia said a little too loudly. "You have to be joking. Surely we can afford at least a glass of glace each?"
Cairee cringed at Dounia's loud whine. "Thank you for the information," she said to the porter. She took Dounia's arm and tried to give her a meaningful look. But Dounia was already distracted, gaping at a group of very pale guests. One had noticed, and turned their way. Cairee thought the group looked a little out of place and uncomfortable, as if they'd like to interact with some of the theatre goers but were unsure of how to make the first move.
Dounia was trying to get closer, pulling against Cairee's arm like a mule struggling against its reins. So much for staying together, Cairee thought. A look around the room confirmed that Tymythy was staying close to Zahra. Cairee sighed as she let Dounia lead her towards the pale woman.
Zahra started to protest as Cairee meant to leave her but when she saw Tymythy with her and Dounia by herself, she gave a nonchalant shrug and turned her attention back to the men.
She did her best to not stare at the group of men while she tried to figure out ages and secretly rated their looks. She hoped that she would be able to make a good impression because one never knew what the future held.
She sashayed forward and got close enough that she could hear snippets of their conversation. She heard one of the handsome gentlemen complain that gems exported to Dollerisium were being undervalued at the ports of entry. She gasped and said, "That's so unfair!" When all heads turned towards her, she blushed prettily and added, "Unless that benefits you, of course. I'm so sorry to intrude but my father is a merchant and I've heard him say something similar about selling his spices." She smiled shyly at the group, "He's quite opinionated on the matter so I couldn't help but say something. Again, I apologize for encroaching on your conversation. I just find it fascinating listening to people when they talk about what's important to them."
As Zahra walked over to speak with the gents one of the women gave her a quick glance and whispered loud enough for her to overhear, "What a brave choice of evening wear, it's so ... historically accurate." One of the men turns at the comment and, after looking Zahra up and down, let out a low controlled closed-mouthed laugh. Zahra could feel the sting of the comment but it was a strange soft sting. She couldn't help but glance at her gown which suddenly looked awfully dated and it struck at her confidence.
Zahra recomposed herself and boldly spoke to the gentlemen.
"That's so unfair!" When all heads turned towards her, she blushed prettily and added, "Unless that benefits you, of course. I'm so sorry to intrude but my father is a merchant and I've heard him say something similar about selling his spices." She smiled shyly at the group, "He's quite opinionated on the matter so I couldn't help but say something. Again, I apologize for encroaching on your conversation. I just find it fascinating listening to people when they talk about what's important to them."
Most of the men and women pulled back wanting no part of the conversation.
However, one man was too curious. He was in a richly patterned suit-coat with a wide lavender velvet sash belt looked at Zahra and smiled coyly, "Ah, but it doesn't benefit me. The customs rate is meant to devalue foreign goods and, Dollerisium, having no fertile mines of its' own, still thinks it can be tight fisted. But, instead of practicing the art of the haggle, they use their customs deliberators. And you say this is happening in the spice market as well? It makes sense. Dollerites don't have the savvy to grow saffron either. My name is Arron. Miss?"
A woman wearing a long lavender dress comes alongside, "And I am Gamila. Forgive my acquaintance Jiya. She is too fashion savvy for her own good. Your gown is lovely" She leaned in, "it is nearly impossible to notice the stitching is not so talented."
Many of the women look unimpressed and their dates look a little board. Even Jiya, who threw the earlier barb thought Gamila rather unobservant. Arron seemed embarrassed.
The Dark-haired woman waited until Dounia was close yet still straining against Cairee's hold, "Aren't you charming. Why don't you join us?"
Something seemed strange about the woman, false. A shiver went up Dounia's spine.
The light-brown haired woman stayed where she was, "Yes, what is your name little-one?"
The auburn haired woman took a deep look at Dounia, "She has the glide of a noblewoman ... and so young." She said to the pale man.
The family was very odd. Cairee didn't like the way they were talking to Dounia. It seemed... predatory. She stepped forward, instinctively putting herself between the young thief and their new acquaintances.
"Isn't the tile work exquisite? Imagine the work it would have taken to place all of those little pieces just perfectly to create such a perfect image. Though I'm not sure what I think of the brass studs. The over all effect is impressive, but it doesn't accurately reflect the night sky. At least, not the sky I grew up under. Does the sky look different in The Midnight City? I admit, it's our first time on this side of the city and it was difficult to get a good look at the sky from the carriage window... Have you ever noticed that if you say a word enough times it starts to sound funny in your head? Sky. Sky sky sky. Well, it was nice to meet you, enjoy the performance."
Cairee turned to Dounia. "Let's get some coffees for our friends."
"What a brave choice of evening wear, it's so ... historically accurate."
”Some of us choose to learn from the past,” Tymythy muttered, not caring how well his voice carried. ”Others, ignore it to their peril.” He maintained a position one pace behind Zahra and one to her left, as if to guard her vulnerable side from assault, and as far as he was concerned, if he could also deflect a few vocal barbs in his direction, all the better. Since he really could not care less what some slip of a girl with more inherited money than sense said or thought.
At least one of the group seemed willing to make polite conversation for a few seconds without worrying overtly about social pecking order.
”Spices. Prey to vagaries of weather as any corps,” tymythy rumbled from behind Zahra’s back. ”At least gems won’t wilt during drought, nor get consumed by pests.”
From across the room the three pale women were so lovely, but the closer Dounia got the more she noticed little things - like the stains one develops from a lifetime of smoking. Their teeth were not so white, their dresses not so pristine, their skin not so smooth.
The pale man on the other hand became more beautiful by the foot closed, by the moment passed. He seemed regal, a knight of Zhayalahmar with a curled mustache and almond shaped eyes.
He was looking at the three ladies and ignoring Cairee when she spoke. As rude as that was it was difficult to hate him for it. Once she stopped her strange little ramble about the stars, his mouth began to move. Something fascinating happened to his lips as her spoke, something difficult to figure. "There is a power to you little desert flower." He turned his head until he was looking at what little he could see of Dounia past her guardian. "A power you are denied access to I think. What is stopping you? Is it your enemies? Are they jealous? Is it your friends? Come. Speak with us. My sisters have taken a liking to you. And I promise. We would not deny you what you truly are."
...Many of the women look unimpressed and their dates look a little board. Even Jiya, who threw the earlier barb thought Gamila rather unobservant. Arron seemed embarrassed...
Dounia was fascinated by the pale people. As she approached, she saw that the women were like a spoonflower cactus, three days after the rain. Beautiful from a distance, but as you got closer, the rot and insect damage became visible. She wanted to watch them longer, try and figure out what their story was, but suddenly the man was talking.
And suddenly Dounia knew what it felt like to be a sphynx moth near a candle. What he was saying almost didn't matter, except that he called her a desert flower, and it made her a bit tingly. There was .... something....about him, difficult to define. Dounia instinctively wanted to draw back, to study this rare and magnificent creature, as one would study a cat at her oasis. Was it a sand cat, beautiful and shy, unlikely to disturb? Or a desert lynx, looking for weakness?
But she wasn't in the desert. She was in the theatre, in a fancy dress, her hair in curls. She was the flower, she was meant to be seen, to be admired. Summoning up a smile, she offered him her hand, and said, "What power could I hold, other than the power over men's hearts?" She winked and smiled, hoping it looked demure and not like a leer. "For us women, our enemies and our friends are often the same persons. People." She nodded towards Cairee and added, "Which is why we keep both close to us." Wait, did I get that quote right?
The Dark-haired woman, "That is very astute," she looked at the man quickly then back, "Little Desert Flower. Friends and enemies are labels and hardly helpful ones. It is more about whom you can trust, and you can trust us. I am called Danyal. This is Laila and Amara."
Laila, the light-brown haired woman, "We could use a new taewidha. A new friend."
Every time Laila speaks her words seem nice but it makes Cairee and Dounia's skin crawl.
Amara, "Laila, your friends never last long. I hope we can keep this one for a long time. Little Flower, you seem a creature of means, a tenacious soul."
She may be judging Dounia by her dress alone.
”Spices. Prey to vagaries of weather as any corps,” tymythy rumbled from behind Zahra’s back. ”At least gems won’t wilt during drought, nor get consumed by pests.”
Jiya, "Yes, vagaries. What an appropriate word for the moment." She spoke quietly to her beau but just loud enough to be heard.
Her beau, " I can feel my diamonds wilting now."
"Laila, your friends never last long. I hope we can keep this one for a long time. Little Flower, you seem a creature of means, a tenacious soul."
Amara's words sent shivers down Cairee's spine. Whatever taewidha meant it surely wasn't friend. She didn't want to stick around to find out for sure.
"Please excuse us, we should find our friends." She couldn't help emphasize the last words just a little, hoping it would keep the Pale Family from following.
Cairee still had Dounia's arm in a vice grip. She tried to steer her away.
Cairee pulled at Dounia who didn't seem to be moving.
The Pale Man, "Porter, two bottles of the sparkling Issmenadore. One goes to the box of our new friend ... what do your friends call you, Desert Flower?"
Zahra notices too late that what she thought were two groups of people were actually couples that had split into two groups. She found it curious that one of the pieces of the gentlemen's clothing matched the colour of their partner. Her parents never did anything so silly. She almost giggled out loud at the thought of her father dressing to match her mother.
The slightly veiled insult levelled at her dress, Haseena's dress, pulled at Zahra's confidence like one may a loose thread but because it was Haseena's dress she refused to let it affect her. "Everything old becomes new again. I've heard it said that there is nothing truly new in fashion."
"Ah, but it doesn't benefit me. The customs rate is meant to devalue foreign goods and, Dollerisium, having no fertile mines of its' own, still thinks it can be tight fisted. But, instead of practicing the art of the haggle, they use their customs deliberators. And you say this is happening in the spice market as well? It makes sense. Dollerites don't have the savvy to grow saffron either. My name is Arron. Miss?"
Zahra gave a warm smile that was part of her nature and replied, "al Asmar. Zahra al Asmar. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Arron and Gamila. It is truly sad how others can't be respectful of the quality of goods and those that provide them. That they would rather make it as difficult as possible for the merchant in order to devalue their goods. Soon they will find that those with better quality goods will find more lucrative places to do business." Zahra knew that she was just regurgitating phrases she had heard her father say but she couldn't just walk away, it wouldn't be polite.
However; it became very apparent, very quickly that this group had no interest in being polite - especially Jiya. Whatever Zahra had thought or hoped the Orrery Room would be, this was not it. Maybe she should have tried the group belonging to the boring club that were all dressed alike.
Zahra stepped back beside Tymythy and slid her arm through his. "It's been lovely meeting you all but Tymythy and I must be going. Enjoy the show."
Zahra stepped back beside Tymythy and slid her arm through his. "It's been lovely meeting you all but Tymythy and I must be going. Enjoy the show."
”Now who’s guarding whom?” Tymythy murmured after Zahra disengaged them from the conversation with the venomous female. ”Thank you for that – it’s so much easier when you can challenge someone insulting you if they persist in sullying your honor. But somehow I doubt she would have accepted, even if I had agreed for her to pick a champion to defend her opinions.”
He knew the words of these gilded peacocks were not the value of their weight on a merchant’s scales, but still, when delivered with such quiet menace he found them harder to shrug off than he had thought. And as he very well knew, were he to engage them on their terms, he’d be entering the circle weaponless and with both hands tied behind his back.
Dounia thought the word taewidha sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place it. Probably just means friend, like he said. She wasn't sure about the women, but he seemed very friendly indeed.
The Pale Man, "Porter, two bottles of the sparkling Issmenadore. One goes to the box of our new friend ... what do your friends call you, Desert Flower?"
Dounia's eyes lit up. "A bottle! How kind!" She curtseyed as best she could in the dress, fortunately she'd been paying attention to Haseena's lessons. Ignoring the bruise that was surely forming under Cairee's hand, Dounia said, "I am called Dounia, my lord Danyal."
Eyeing their paleness yet again, she tried to probe a little. "And have you and your sisters always lived here in Alshafaq? Have you lived here for a very very long time? Do you ever visit Daw'alnahar? The gardens there are lovely? Very sunny gardens, on that side. Do you like the sun?" she asked brightly.
As Zahra and Tymythy excuse themselves from the circle of the very rich a porter walks up to them and hands them a glass of Issmenadore champaign, "Compliments of the gentleman." The porter nods at the pale man.
Gamila and Jiya look deeply jealous at the gesture. Then they close ranks. They will spend a few minutes talking about the audacious new attendees before they turn on each other again, and with sickly politeness and a deep fear of missing out, practice their social cannibalism.
As Cairee pulled on the unmovable Dounia the pale man smiled.
The dark-haired woman giggled, "Little one, 'I' am Danyal. This is General Altan Yazar!" She says the name with great reverence.
Leila, "Do you know of the battles against the northern orc! Do you understand how the General has saved this very city from siege and war! No! You understand nothing and you stand there and ask your petty questions!"
Amara looked at Leila, "Sister!?? ..." she looks back to Dounia and continues where Danyal left off "Had he not been a General he would still be the second son of Sultan alYazar and heir to alHuzn House."
A porter brings glasses of sparkling wine to the Yazar family and to Dounia and Cairee. Sensing a little tension they leave as quickly as is discrete.
Dounia thought the word taewidha sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place it. Probably just means friend, like he said. She wasn't sure about the women, but he seemed very friendly indeed.
Dounia wasn't taking Cairee's hint to leave. She looked at the champagne glasses in dismay. It would be rude to refuse them. But the last thing Dounia needed was alcohol in our system. Her judgement was poor enough as it was.
Cairee realized she wouldn't be able to disengage them without causing a scene. Instead she released Dounia's arm and looked around for Zahra and Tymythy. Were they fairing any better? Maybe they could come over and help.
Where were they?! Clearly they weren't in the room. They hadn't left the theatre entirely, had they? Was something wrong? Should she find Haseena? Would she even recognize her in her young guise?
Cairee took a small sip of the champagne, hoping it would help calm her frayed nerves.
”Now who’s guarding whom?” Tymythy murmured after Zahra disengaged them from the conversation with the venomous female. ”Thank you for that – it’s so much easier when you can challenge someone insulting you if they persist in sullying your honor. But somehow I doubt she would have accepted, even if I had agreed for her to pick a champion to defend her opinions.”
Zahra musical laugh wafted back towards the group as they left the couples in their wake and then she leaned in slightly towards Tymythy and lowered her voice, "You will always be the guard. It suits you much better than me. It is I that should apologize for leading us into that painful, social powder keg. I thought the rich would be so much more interesting and would have better manners. I guess Haseena has skewed my expectations since she has always been so supportive."
"I don't know if Dounia and Cairee are having more success but I think I'm done with the Orrery Room. Maybe we should find a room that has people who are more interesting and fun."
Just as Zahra was finishing her thought, a porter appeared handing her and Tymythy a glass of Issmenadore. Her eyes lit up as she took the glass, completely oblivious to the jealous glares directed at her by Gamila and Jiya, "How kind, thank you." She glanced over at where he nods to see who had generously shared drinks with strangers. She saw Dounia and Cairee with the pale man whom she had thought was too aloof to bother approaching. With her faith in the rich restored, she looked at Tymythy and said, "We should go over and thank him for his thoughtfulness."
"How kind, thank you." She glanced over at where he nods to see who had generously shared drinks with strangers. She saw Dounia and Cairee with the pale man whom she had thought was too aloof to bother approaching. With her faith in the rich restored, she looked at Tymythy and said, "We should go over and thank him for his thoughtfulness."
Tymythy looked at the glass the servant had given him with deep suspicion. Wine that bubbled, like boiling, but the glass felt cool in his hand. What foul sorcery was this now? This constant steam of surprises was wearing him down.
"Can't be worse than those previous folks were," Tymythy murmured as he followed Zahra to Cairee and Dounia and their company.