|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 09, 2018 8:26 pm
|
|
|
|
[Backdated, takes place approximately two turns ago, shortly before Thread first fell.]
The Blue House had long been a sort of sanctuary for the young man. This particular shop was a place where he could kick back and let his mind wander as he savored his tea, casting aside the cares of his father, brothers, and hold. It was just him, at least for a short time, with no strings tying him down.
Karou was sitting in his customary seat, slightly slouched for comfort as he waited for his order. Idly, he reached into his pocket and brought out a round, flat trinket which he flipped open, revealing a hand mirror. He snapped it open and shut a couple of times before actually looking into it. Like a jeweler closely examining a gem, he slowly traced the lines of his own face in the mirror, expecting and finding no flaws. He tucked the mirror away and stretched both arms overhead, ending the movement with another slouch and a run of tapered fingers through silky black hair. The tea should be about ready by now, he thought.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 09, 2018 8:48 pm
|
|
|
|
Yunara had anticipated this particular guest for some time that morning. Of course, she hadn't known that he would arrive. It was only that she had wanted it so badly. Not that he said much to her, if he said anything at all. But sometimes, just sometimes, there was a kind word, or a look. Something that spoke to the girl. Something that said more than words could.
Oh, not about her. Of course not. The young holder's son could have no interest in a simple shopgirl like her. Still, she enjoyed how much he seemed to like the tea that she brought. If it could soothe him, improve his doubtless stressful days... then that was all that mattered. Carefully setting the pot of tea upon a tray, Yunara artfully arranged a tea saucer, cup, and an array of items that he might put into his tea. A delicate tea spoon was placed beside the lot.
Walking out into the crowded tea house, the girl set the tray upon her customer's table. In a whisper of movement, she poured the tea with a practiced ease and grace. Bowing deeply, she retreated with a softly murmured, "My lord." Her heart beat faster just by being near him, and she had work to do.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 10, 2018 7:13 pm
|
|
|
|
The serving girl brought out his tray and left it as quickly and quietly as usual. He barely had time to glance her way before she was halfway to the back of the shop. He sat up a bit straighter so he could reach the furthest condiment, spooning a heap into the bright yellow-orange tea. It was his favorite blend, Golden Spice. Its scent and flavor always seemed to touch him with feelings of pleasant nostalgia, though he never knew what for.
He took his cup in one hand and stared distantly at a hanging painting on the wall as he sipped. He’d be going as Rusadh’s emissary to another one of his father’s meetings in a few minutes to work out an agreement with Lord Rentez about those vegetables. Such an exciting topic of conversation. They were stupidly expensive as well, in his opinion. Yet, it was apparently vital that he do everything he could to secure them. Dusiph insisted the mash made with them made the holds’ draybeasts stronger and healthier, able to pull larger loads, and that would eventually translate to profit. Whatever.
As he mused on those thoughts, he unconsciously slipped off his signet ring and rolled it over one finger after another, around his thumb, and back over the fingers again. The movement was clearly well-practiced, having been done thousands of times over the last couple of turns he’d been running these errands for Dusiph. Usually the ring ended up right back on the proper finger after a few dozen circuits, but today Karou’s chair was bumped by another patron, sending the ring flying down onto the table. A sharp glare from the holder boy got him the apology he deserved. He watched the offender go as he reached into his pocket for the proper coinage to pay for his tea. He put that on the table, took one last swallow of Golden Spice, and dabbed his lips with a napkin from the tray. Out of habit, he laid the napkin over the money without sparing it a second glance. He hated prying eyes looking to see what he tipped. If it was a little more than they chose to leave, that was his own business. The tea was excellent, after all.
Then he was off to meet with Rentez, completely unaware that his tip had accidentally included a bit more than marks that day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 11, 2018 8:32 am
|
|
|
|
When the lordling had left, the dainty shop girl returned, setting the tea pot and accoutrements upon it. She picked up the napkin, glancing beneath it to find a generous tip indeed. Yunara gasped when she realized what he'd inadvertently left behind. "My lord!" she cried, running after him. But she was too late, and he was already well on his way. With a sigh, she tucked the ring away, resolving within herself that she would give it back to him when next they met.
Returning to his table (and when she had decided that it was his table, she really didn't know,) she cleaned it up with care. The marks were tucked beside the ring, soon to be added to the safe. She'd all but forgotten that she had his ring by the time that she put them away... and then she couldn't help but swoon over it a little. It belonged to him. Looping it through a chain which she had nenuded of its pendant, she fastened it around her neck and then slipped it beneath her clothes. Where, no doubt, it would be quite safe.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 12, 2018 2:27 pm
|
|
|
|
“And of course you'll inform Lord Dusiph that I require his signature in person once the contract is prepared?”
Karou returned Rentez's smile, an insincere bend of the lips barely containing his irritation, with a grin barely containing his own. They were both weary of the meeting and of each other, and Rentez was more than a tad miffed that Dusiph had sent a representative instead of coming to Telgar himself. But unfortunately for Lord Rentez, he had placed a higher value on himself than he actually had, coming from a much smaller, less wealthy family. According to Dusiph, he didn't rate a personal appearance, not for such simple negotiations “that even Karone could manage.”
Send him, then!
The slap had stung, but meant nothing. Dusiph slapped everyone except his favored firstborn. Karou's expression didn't even change. He'd just walked away as though nothing had happened, saddled up his runner, and rode to Telgar. Rainclouds loomed in the distance, so fitting for this little Harper's tale. Now, here in Rentez's shop, that rain had finally arrived and began pelting the roof.
“Of course,” he simpered, purposely mimicking the holder's inflection. Rentez gave him a sharp look and was just about to retort when the building, like a beast in pain, groaned.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 12, 2018 3:34 pm
|
|
|
|
The mail had arrived on firelizard wing, a hovering little creature who deposited a package into Yunara's hands. She opened it quickly, anxious to get to the contents inside. The ring beneath her dress shifted, reminding her of its presence, and she thought fond thoughts of a boy who might never think of her in return. But even that could not entirely distract her from her goal. Inside lay a tin of loose leaf tea, but more precious than that by far was the letter that sat quietly beside it.
"The baby's coming," she gasped, holding the letter to her. Her grandmother came up to stand beside her, gently procuring the bit of parchment from her granddaughter's grasp. Yunara was beside herself. This moment had been so hopefully awaited... and for so long! Every few months she received a note from her parents telling her of their travels, and in the recent letters her new sibling had featured extensively.
Not only was the baby expected any day now, her mother and father would be coming home! Home, after all of these Turns flitting in and out of Telgar. Home, when not even her presence could tear them away from their duties. A sliver of jealousy tried to make its way inside her heart, but she repudiated it. Surely... surely they were simply tired of the road. Surely, they wanted to see her just as much as she wanted to see them. As much as she wanted to see her new brother or sister.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 12, 2018 7:34 pm
|
|
|
|
It happened suddenly. So suddenly, in fact, that no one had time to react. The screams... the screams were terrible. They echoed from the outskirts of the Hold, and Yunara dropped the letter. What was happening? Why were people running? Grandfather shuttered the windows closed, and Yunara could only kneel in the middle of the floor, hands over her ears, weeping with terror and confusion.
When the screams stopped, when all was silent, she got to her feet. "No!" cried Grandmother, and Yunara stilled. Two pairs of arms wrapped around her, holding her in place. ... And then the wailing began. The injured, the dying... those who had abruptly lost so much. She didn't understand. Had they been attacked? Fear gripped her heart. What should she do?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 17, 2018 7:50 pm
|
|
|
|
When the rescue teams came through Telgar, Lord Rentez was found dead under the ruins of the slate shingle roof of his shop. By chance, they discovered a boy who had barely escaped the same fate, saved by a rickety arch of stone bricks that had formerly been part of a staircase. Some of the bricks were loose, only holding together because of the pressure from either side. If they had arrived but an hour later, it likely would have caved in and the boy crushed. As it was, he was partially pinned beneath a heavy layer of shingles.
Due to the severity of his injuries, the boy was kept unconscious throughout his transfer and treatment, which included setting bones in his left leg and arm. He had no identification upon his person and Rentez’s widow did not recognize him. It was several weeks later that he was finally brought to full consciousness, and the healers attempted to get his name. He refused to give it, or to give any other information about himself. Not knowing the extent of the devastation outside of the comfortable infirmary room he woke up in, he only cared to know what that strange silver mass was that he’d seen before Rentez’s roof caved in.
The revelation of Thread and the widespread destruction it had caused came as quite the surprise to him, as did being told how long he’d been unconscious. Weeks? His father would be livid. The healers wanted him to stay until they were certain everything had healed properly, but there was no way he would submit to that. He took their prescribed medicines and extra wrappings for his arm and leg, and set off on his own… but not toward home.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 24, 2018 9:10 am
|
|
|
|
The bonfire that night was a solemn affair, the tattered remenants of what had been a thriving trade district coming together to remember and to honor their lost loved ones. Among the lost, Yunara's parents and their unborn child. Several distant cousins had not made it, and the girl's hands remembered the blood that had stained them as she had tried desperately to save them. But they had been too far gone, nearly eaten away entirely by the Thread, only alive until that moment because some bright soul has doused them in water.
Her parents. She'd found out quickly, far more quickly than the letter proclaiming the soon to be arrival of her sibling. Tonight she wore a dress that had belonged to her mother. It had, in fact, been her mother's most treasured belonging, left at home to keep it safe. It smelled of the perfume that she had worn mixed with the wood of the chest in which it had been kept safely by. Green was an unlucky color, but Yunara had refused to wear anything else. This was ... This was for her parents, and it was her choice alone. She'd argued, for perhaps the first time in her life, but the deciding factor had been the tears that threatened to choke her.
Her grandparents had simply hugged her then, and she'd cried herself out. Beneath the dress she still wore his signet ring, her own homage to a lad she would never again see. A cold, sharp weight had settled within her. For all that the tea house stood standing, she had lost so much. Others had lost far more. When the bonfire was ready, it was her turn to light it.
She couldn't get out the words, but a strong hand closed over her own, that of her grandfather. Together, they lit the fire. "For... For my mother and father, and for... my baby brother or sister, who... who I never met." Her soft voice was hoarse, tear stained tracks visible upon her cheeks for all that she had scrubbed them. "For all of us, who have lost so much. May we remember the lost ones, and honor them with the lighting of the bonfire."
Silence. But a silence broken by the weeping of the crowd. Yunara stood, stone faced, as if she was made entirely of ice. She felt frozen, as if her heart would never again thaw. They were... gone. Gone, never again to return. Her hand brushed against the cloth where it concealed a certain ring, and at last she found the tears again... and then she couldn't seem to stop crying. Goodbye, she mourned, but only within her soul.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 24, 2018 2:56 pm
|
|
|
|
Weeks after thread first fell, Karou wandered the streets of Telgar just a short time after he’d awoken, favoring his stiff, tightly-wrapped leg. He wasn’t even sure where he was within the hold, the destruction was so complete. Buildings had been toppled, gates and fences and all traces of green landscaping erased… a few places seemed to have been repaired or rebuilt, but nothing looked as it had before the disaster. The cobblestones beneath his feet were the only things that looked the same. He felt like he was walking through a dream—or rather, some sort of waking nightmare.
Upon spotting some shifty-looking folk ahead, he made a detour between the stone shells of what might have once been shops or apartments, knowing he’d never be able to outrun them if they had anything unpleasant in mind. On the other side, there was something familiar about the curve of the street, the spacing of the building remnants that lined it. He stayed on that street, trusting that he would find some sort of landmark that would point him toward home.
He soon found himself standing before a very familiar shop. It might have been patched up a bit since thread fell, but there was no mistaking the Blue House. And… it was open.
There were still a few marks in his pocket. Perhaps a small taste of normalcy would steel him for the trek home. He opened the door, amazed that its creak sounded exactly the same as it had the last time he’d stepped through. Once he was inside, he looked around the shop, and for a moment it was as if nothing had ever changed. As if no time had passed. The tables and chairs were in the same place. The same decorations hung on the wall. Behind the counter were the same friendly old faces he’d seen a hundred times before. The relief was so intense that Karou suddenly felt a sting behind his eyes. He stayed just inside the doorway, drinking it all in for few precious moments.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 09, 2019 5:58 am
|
|
|
|
It came as a bit of a surprise to hear that these shopkeepers could be so troubled over the death of a noble. He genuinely liked the family who ran the Blue House, in part for the care and dedication they showed in their service. He didn’t tip anyone well for nothing, naturally, and he’d spent enough time in the shop to be certain these folks weren’t the type to notice his absence merely because of the marks they were missing. It was rather gratifying, if somewhat awkward, and he’d be sure to demand that his father send them an anonymous donation toward any further repairs or supplies needed to keep them running… once he was ready to return home and actually face Dusiph, that is.
For the moment, witnessing another’s distress had done a world of good as far as being able to ground himself. He reached out, lightly touching two fingertips to the tip of the shop girl’s dainty little chin, the motion meant to lift her head back up from where it hung. “Perhaps some tea? My usual, if you have any left.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|