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rainbowfic2013-06-26 01:17 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2013-06-26 01:17 pm
Peacock #3, Transparent #20
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Eighth Saimar
Colors: Peacock #3 (filthy gorgeous), Transparent #20 (yellow)
Styles/Supplies: n/a
Word Count: 1,336
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Jarol's strange night continues.
Note: Follows from this piece. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Dionos Mara sat behind a desk set in the very middle of the office, a centerpiece bathed in a pool of flickering yellow light coming from several strategically-placed candles. The multiple sources of light split Dionos Mara’s shadow into three, and they loomed against the back wall of the office, inky-black to faded gray, as Jarol stepped inside and waited to be acknowledged.
Despite how tired he was, he could have waited forever. He would have waited forever. Having never seen Dionos Mara before, he immediately understood why she was called Queen Apparent.
She was not as old as he had expected; in his mind’s eye Dionos Mara had been a stern, matronly sort, with steel-gray hair put up in a tight bun or cut short in severe lines, hard eyes amidst a wrinkled face, an intimidating countenance. But this woman was maybe forty-five at most, her curly brown hair showing only a few strands of silver. And even sitting at the desk, looking down at a piece of paper she was writing on, Dionos Mara held herself like what Jarol imagined a queen would: straight back, smooth fingers, a certain elegance to the way she dipped her quill in the inkwell one more time before finishing a last line and putting it aside.
Then she looked up, and Jarol bit his lip. Her eyes were green, but not the deep forest green that was common among Ethilikens, nor the paler green of jade. This green was almost clear, like he was looking through seawater transformed into the thinnest, purest glass. Her gaze was regal, her mouth quirked up just slightly, pale pink lips quirked just so.
In his eighteen years of life Jarol had never once felt anything approaching attraction toward anyone. Such silly dalliances were a waste of time, in his opinion. But looking at Dionos Mara, Jarol fell in love, and he knew that if she did ever decide to overthrow the Assembly and become a real Queen, he would be by her side every step of the way.
“Jarol Nilis-Angisini?”
Even his hated name sounded like music dropping from her lips. Jarol swallowed hard and sternly told himself to pay attention. Dionos Mara had called him to her office for a reason, and it was not to watch him slobber over her like a sex-obsessed teenager. “Yes.”
“Good. Sit.” She indicated one of the two plush chairs that sat opposite her own. After he did so, wiping his clammy hands against his trousers, she regarded him silently for a moment.
“They tell me you have made a study of Vymethian.”
Jarol felt the heat of his blush, and silently chided himself to stop it. “In my spare time, yes.” It was another grab at an opportunity: Ethilikos, not typically a land of seafaring people, had not even heard of the island nation of Vymeth until a couple of decades ago. Trade had been sluggish to begin with, as Ethilikos was also slow to trust outsiders, but as the partnership had proven to be quite beneficial it was becoming more and more common to see Vymethian sailors in the Spirathuan port along the river, in Spirathuan taverns, patronizing Spirathuan shops. Jarol figured it wouldn’t be long before there would be Vymethians immigrating to Ethilikos, and vice versa. As a student of language, it had only seemed prudent to teach himself Vymethian. He may need it someday, and it was never good to shut out an opportunity.
“They, in fact, tell me that you could be considered the Academy’s foremost expert on same.”
Despite himself, Jarol blushed again. Oh, if only that were true. He didn’t want to deny it. But there was something in Dionos Mara’s gaze that compelled him to go against his nature and be humble for once. “I don’t know if I would say that. Dionos Korinka has been studying Vymethian since the first ship approached our shore. She and her assistants are more than fluent--”
“Ah.” Dionos Mara raised one finger. Jarol fell silent, her power over him already that encompassing. “Let me rephrase. You are the Academy’s most convenient expert on Vymethian.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jarol.
Dionos Mara folded her hands. “For many months now I have headed a committee in the Assembly whose chief purpose is the study and understanding of Vymeth and Vymethian culture. Dionos Korinka and many of her assistants have indeed proven invaluable to our work. As such, their presence is required there.” She regarded Jarol, raising her chin slightly. “As an unattached...expert, you are needed for the next phase.”
Jarol tightened his jaw. Apparently her spell over him wasn’t complete, because he had not at all liked that slight pause she made before calling him an expert. If she was already working with the Academy’s dedicated scholars on Vymeth, what did she need him for? Perhaps it was time to rethink the possibility that his being called here was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to humiliate him. “What is this next phase?”
“We have known the Vymethians for twenty-two years,” said Dionos Mara. “My committee has recommended that we tighten the bonds between our nations. In the future we will be sending a delegation of ambassadors and scholars to the island. You are to be among them.”
Jarol blinked. “You want me to leave the Academy, and go all the way to Vymeth?”
And now her gaze was cool, impatient. “I believe that is what I just said. You are hereby immediately relieved of your position as junior scribe, so that you may spend the next several months preparing for your journey. You will receive a stipend for living expenses, of course, and will be allowed to stay in your current apartment until you depart Ethilikos. But you are to cease all duties and projects associated with your former position at once.”
He’d alternated between lofty visions of serving the Assembly directly, and a certainy that he was being subjected to some bizarre way to get him out of the Academy. But he had not once thought that perhaps it would be both.
Because it was. Relieved of his position. Well, then. A sacking, good and true, no matter what words it was dressed up in. The very thing he had always feared.
But did it matter? He was going to be working for the Assembly. He was going to be working for Dionos Mara. He wasn’t a fool: he knew exactly now what the dionos had meant by “convenient.” The true experts, the ones endorsed by the Academy, could not be risked on such a journey, nor sequestered on an island far, far away from the Assembly.
He was expendable. That was the only reason anyone had noticed him.
But he was also qualified, and if ever there had been an opportunity...
For the first time in his life, Jarol didn’t know if he should feel offended or flattered. It was not a good feeling at all, but there was the hard light of practicality behind it: he could refuse, in which case he would probably lose his position anyway, and even if he didn’t he would never amount to anything more than a junior scribe toiling in the archives of the student library, forever.
He did not like the idea of leaving the Academy, not after he had fought so hard to stay. He could already see the smug grin on the face of his old sponsor, Dionos Afry, at the idea of Jarol not only leaving the Academy, but leaving Ethilikos, for good. He had sworn to never let that old goat win.
But making a name for himself would show up Afry more than clinging to the Academy like a limpet. And however else would he get such a chance?
And Dionos Mara had asked him, and he wasn’t sure he could say no to her even if he wanted to.
“Well?” she said. “Is our offer acceptable?”
And he said, “Yes.”
kay_brookeStory: The Eighth Saimar
Colors: Peacock #3 (filthy gorgeous), Transparent #20 (yellow)
Styles/Supplies: n/a
Word Count: 1,336
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Jarol's strange night continues.
Note: Follows from this piece. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Dionos Mara sat behind a desk set in the very middle of the office, a centerpiece bathed in a pool of flickering yellow light coming from several strategically-placed candles. The multiple sources of light split Dionos Mara’s shadow into three, and they loomed against the back wall of the office, inky-black to faded gray, as Jarol stepped inside and waited to be acknowledged.
Despite how tired he was, he could have waited forever. He would have waited forever. Having never seen Dionos Mara before, he immediately understood why she was called Queen Apparent.
She was not as old as he had expected; in his mind’s eye Dionos Mara had been a stern, matronly sort, with steel-gray hair put up in a tight bun or cut short in severe lines, hard eyes amidst a wrinkled face, an intimidating countenance. But this woman was maybe forty-five at most, her curly brown hair showing only a few strands of silver. And even sitting at the desk, looking down at a piece of paper she was writing on, Dionos Mara held herself like what Jarol imagined a queen would: straight back, smooth fingers, a certain elegance to the way she dipped her quill in the inkwell one more time before finishing a last line and putting it aside.
Then she looked up, and Jarol bit his lip. Her eyes were green, but not the deep forest green that was common among Ethilikens, nor the paler green of jade. This green was almost clear, like he was looking through seawater transformed into the thinnest, purest glass. Her gaze was regal, her mouth quirked up just slightly, pale pink lips quirked just so.
In his eighteen years of life Jarol had never once felt anything approaching attraction toward anyone. Such silly dalliances were a waste of time, in his opinion. But looking at Dionos Mara, Jarol fell in love, and he knew that if she did ever decide to overthrow the Assembly and become a real Queen, he would be by her side every step of the way.
“Jarol Nilis-Angisini?”
Even his hated name sounded like music dropping from her lips. Jarol swallowed hard and sternly told himself to pay attention. Dionos Mara had called him to her office for a reason, and it was not to watch him slobber over her like a sex-obsessed teenager. “Yes.”
“Good. Sit.” She indicated one of the two plush chairs that sat opposite her own. After he did so, wiping his clammy hands against his trousers, she regarded him silently for a moment.
“They tell me you have made a study of Vymethian.”
Jarol felt the heat of his blush, and silently chided himself to stop it. “In my spare time, yes.” It was another grab at an opportunity: Ethilikos, not typically a land of seafaring people, had not even heard of the island nation of Vymeth until a couple of decades ago. Trade had been sluggish to begin with, as Ethilikos was also slow to trust outsiders, but as the partnership had proven to be quite beneficial it was becoming more and more common to see Vymethian sailors in the Spirathuan port along the river, in Spirathuan taverns, patronizing Spirathuan shops. Jarol figured it wouldn’t be long before there would be Vymethians immigrating to Ethilikos, and vice versa. As a student of language, it had only seemed prudent to teach himself Vymethian. He may need it someday, and it was never good to shut out an opportunity.
“They, in fact, tell me that you could be considered the Academy’s foremost expert on same.”
Despite himself, Jarol blushed again. Oh, if only that were true. He didn’t want to deny it. But there was something in Dionos Mara’s gaze that compelled him to go against his nature and be humble for once. “I don’t know if I would say that. Dionos Korinka has been studying Vymethian since the first ship approached our shore. She and her assistants are more than fluent--”
“Ah.” Dionos Mara raised one finger. Jarol fell silent, her power over him already that encompassing. “Let me rephrase. You are the Academy’s most convenient expert on Vymethian.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jarol.
Dionos Mara folded her hands. “For many months now I have headed a committee in the Assembly whose chief purpose is the study and understanding of Vymeth and Vymethian culture. Dionos Korinka and many of her assistants have indeed proven invaluable to our work. As such, their presence is required there.” She regarded Jarol, raising her chin slightly. “As an unattached...expert, you are needed for the next phase.”
Jarol tightened his jaw. Apparently her spell over him wasn’t complete, because he had not at all liked that slight pause she made before calling him an expert. If she was already working with the Academy’s dedicated scholars on Vymeth, what did she need him for? Perhaps it was time to rethink the possibility that his being called here was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to humiliate him. “What is this next phase?”
“We have known the Vymethians for twenty-two years,” said Dionos Mara. “My committee has recommended that we tighten the bonds between our nations. In the future we will be sending a delegation of ambassadors and scholars to the island. You are to be among them.”
Jarol blinked. “You want me to leave the Academy, and go all the way to Vymeth?”
And now her gaze was cool, impatient. “I believe that is what I just said. You are hereby immediately relieved of your position as junior scribe, so that you may spend the next several months preparing for your journey. You will receive a stipend for living expenses, of course, and will be allowed to stay in your current apartment until you depart Ethilikos. But you are to cease all duties and projects associated with your former position at once.”
He’d alternated between lofty visions of serving the Assembly directly, and a certainy that he was being subjected to some bizarre way to get him out of the Academy. But he had not once thought that perhaps it would be both.
Because it was. Relieved of his position. Well, then. A sacking, good and true, no matter what words it was dressed up in. The very thing he had always feared.
But did it matter? He was going to be working for the Assembly. He was going to be working for Dionos Mara. He wasn’t a fool: he knew exactly now what the dionos had meant by “convenient.” The true experts, the ones endorsed by the Academy, could not be risked on such a journey, nor sequestered on an island far, far away from the Assembly.
He was expendable. That was the only reason anyone had noticed him.
But he was also qualified, and if ever there had been an opportunity...
For the first time in his life, Jarol didn’t know if he should feel offended or flattered. It was not a good feeling at all, but there was the hard light of practicality behind it: he could refuse, in which case he would probably lose his position anyway, and even if he didn’t he would never amount to anything more than a junior scribe toiling in the archives of the student library, forever.
He did not like the idea of leaving the Academy, not after he had fought so hard to stay. He could already see the smug grin on the face of his old sponsor, Dionos Afry, at the idea of Jarol not only leaving the Academy, but leaving Ethilikos, for good. He had sworn to never let that old goat win.
But making a name for himself would show up Afry more than clinging to the Academy like a limpet. And however else would he get such a chance?
And Dionos Mara had asked him, and he wasn’t sure he could say no to her even if he wanted to.
“Well?” she said. “Is our offer acceptable?”
And he said, “Yes.”
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Really wanting to see where Jarol goes with this, even if it's not in the most ideal of circumstances. Hopefully the journey will help him grow.
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At the moment I'm planning on more. The end of Jarol's journey is in the novel itself, but I wanted to write everything that led up to it.
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Thanks for reading!