12 Ash, Year 122
[Closed]
There was a story that Hilana remembered hearing around the docks many years ago as a child. When traders came to and from the ports, she and her pack would take the cargo where it needed to go. To Solunarium, out to the reaches of the Expanse… stories spread; not just of Vastian news and legends, but sometimes what bits filtered through from the outside. She was rarely if ever in Tertium, preferring the wilds. If she didn’t have to be around her family, it was simply that much better for everyone involved. Between her father, her aunt, and her sisters… She despised the place and all that it represented. But still…it was a way to hear things. She found that it was truer than one found in the Capital, as close to the docks as Sweet Remedies was, and her tendencies to go along and listen and chat during her lunch and breaks. One found more outsiders in Tertium, in and around the docks, than one did here.
But this story in particular had involved a great tortoise, and apparently there was a birthday celebration each year for the Emperor’s pet. They had called it the Fest der Schildkröte. She had repeated it and repeated it and repeated it until the visiting sailors were satisfied with her pronunciation, and demanded the details of such a celebration with the enthusiasm that only a child could produce about such fantastical stories. That was when she learned that all of the businesses in the realm of Gel’Grandal closed on that date, and festivals and parties were held. And over the years, Hilana kept track of the date, and its age, and she knew that this year, 122, was a very special birthday. In truth, she did not know if the Great Tortoise existed, but she had loved the story, and it had stuck with her. And when she could, she observed it. Even if it was just to wish it a Happy Birthday, and many happy returns. They could live a long time, so with luck…
But now that she was on her own in Solunarium, with access to things she wouldn’t have had in the Expanse, and free of the scornful, watchful eyes of her family, Hilana was going to have fun with it. She had arranged with Vasilei to take a half day, borrowing one of the enormous wooden trays from the apothecary, and did her shopping in the Forum for the remaining things she needed. Fruit, mostly, of all kinds, but she did get a couple heads of leafy greens. Variety was the spice of life, and she knew from experience that tortoises did enjoy their greens. How many times had she watched them in the oases, or at the river? Often enough. There used to be one that enjoyed hanging around the herding grounds for the cattle outside of Tertium, having dug down and made its home there. Hilana and the other younger children had plied it with wild berries and greens, and it had become so comfortable it had no inclination to leave. Every time she was in the area, she had always checked on it, even when she was no longer working that herd. But she hadn’t been able to bring it with her to Tertium; not with the deal she had had to make in exchange for her training.
She made her way home, carrying the big basket of groceries and the tray up the stairs to her apartment. Tiaz was hanging lazily around her shoulders, though he was starting to make his way towards the basket, if only to check it out. Sensing nothing of interest, it didn’t take long for the python’s coils to begin his ascension back up along her torso, and was almost back to her shoulders by the time she tucked the tray under her arm to unlock her door and let herself in, closing and locking it once more out of what was now habit. She had on more than one occasion had someone try her doorknob, but considering she had no Runes or other such ability to tell just who was on the other side, they usually left quickly without leaving any indication of who or why. Some suspicious part of her thought that it might have been whomever her father had watching her, because he doubtless knew her address. Asher would have reported that, not that Hilana begrudged it.
In the kitchen, she gave the tray a quick wash before lining up her fruit and taking stock of it. Apples, melons, prickly pears, a pineapple, a variety of berries, such as strawberries and raspberries, and a few bananas. With the cutting board out and a sharp knife, she got to work on the preparation. The leafy greens were spread all over the tray, and sprinkled with clover grown in the greenhouse, and then she began to attack the fruit. Melons were sliced and cut down to size, as Hilana intended to make quite a number of, well, miniature fruit cakes. She had gone scouting down the river with Hayima’el before, so she knew roughly what sizes she needed to be acceptable for her party guests, but she was making a big one for the guest of honour, though she knew the little guests would likely devour it too. Rounds of melon were accentuated with slices of apple, pineapple, and banana, and the berries were used as garnishes and decoration. By the time she had finished, Hilana had filled the entire tray with dozens of cakes made entirely out of fruit, and as an added bonus, she had managed to avoid cutting herself. That gave her cause to chuckle. At least if she did, she knew what to use to close the wound quickly…
Well-satisfied with her efforts, she topped each of the cakes with a few edible flowers from the greenhouse. Hilana covered them up with a light, plain cloth and secured the ends below the tray, carefully tying across the length and breadth of it with twine to keep them as intact as possible on their journey. She took care to make sure she didn’t disturb or misshape her cakes, and went to put Tiaz back in his terrarium to relax. As much as she loved her python, she didn’t want to unduly disturb the guests, and if a predator was about…they might not be so willing to come out. Babies and juveniles were already so skittish, which was natural instinct, and sensing a predator like Tiaz was necessary for their survival. While her coming to them with food was one thing, something they may never encounter again, a snake on the other hand…
She refilled her waterskin and took a couple of dates wrapped in a pita, putting them in her bag on top of the blanket already in there before taking the tray and heading back down the stairs and out to the stable behind the building. This took a bit more doing, what with the well-loaded tray, but she had gotten used to carrying such awkward loads again at work. In the Sands she called home, awkward bundles were a way of life. Once in the stables, she greeted the mounts that were kept there. She’d learned the names of all of them by now, and not all of them were camels. But it was to Hayima’el’s large stall that she went to, opening the tack box and setting her tray on another chest for the time being by an empty stall. “Hayima’el, my love,” she smiled at the big bull, opening the door and presenting him with a prickly pear. He lipped it from her palm, and Hilana hummed at him, rubbing his face with her free hand. Hayima’el had grown up eating such things; thorny trees and plants, cacti, and prickly pears were a great treat. She kissed his nose, slipping his halter over his head, and opened the wooden door to lead him out to stand him in the middle of the aisle. Her grooming kit came out of his box, and she had to grab the stepladder. The bull camel was taller than most horses, and while Hilana stood a good 5’10”, the tuck of his abdomen was still over her head. In the Expanse, he would have laid in the sand for her to groom his back and neck; then stood for her to finish, but the Vastii was perfectly happy moving around on the stepladder while he chewed his cud, completely at ease.
The grooming was a dance between girl and camel, an act of partnership and bonding just as much, if not more, as the way he conveyed her where she wanted to go. Old dust and hair fell freely to the sandy floor, and the servus would clean that out later. She knew some of the residents of the apartment building paid extra for the grooming and additional care of their animals, but this was something she loved to do. It was part of her life. It was the one thing she had been able to hold onto when she had had to return to Tertium, and every move was muscle memory. It was as choreographed to her as any of the shows one might find in the entertainment districts. She worked the combs and brushes over him, feeling and checking his hump and skin for anything that might have been off. Satisfied, she would switch sides before checking the pads of each foot, digging out a bit of straw with a spoon. Another go-over, and she was satisfied before getting out the colourful pads that went under the saddle, getting them into position before hefting the considerable saddle up by his hump and getting it into position on the pads before stepping down from the ladder. Circling him meant that she found a few adjustments to make, and when she was pleased, she secured the saddle and its straps. Considering the heat of the day, she knew she would want the sunshade on, and she fitted the attachments into place. He got another prickly pear from her as a prize for good behaviour, and she connected the colourful lead to his halter before closing his stall door and his tack box, gathering her tray now and letting him follow her out of the stable.
Part II
[Closed]
There was a story that Hilana remembered hearing around the docks many years ago as a child. When traders came to and from the ports, she and her pack would take the cargo where it needed to go. To Solunarium, out to the reaches of the Expanse… stories spread; not just of Vastian news and legends, but sometimes what bits filtered through from the outside. She was rarely if ever in Tertium, preferring the wilds. If she didn’t have to be around her family, it was simply that much better for everyone involved. Between her father, her aunt, and her sisters… She despised the place and all that it represented. But still…it was a way to hear things. She found that it was truer than one found in the Capital, as close to the docks as Sweet Remedies was, and her tendencies to go along and listen and chat during her lunch and breaks. One found more outsiders in Tertium, in and around the docks, than one did here.
But this story in particular had involved a great tortoise, and apparently there was a birthday celebration each year for the Emperor’s pet. They had called it the Fest der Schildkröte. She had repeated it and repeated it and repeated it until the visiting sailors were satisfied with her pronunciation, and demanded the details of such a celebration with the enthusiasm that only a child could produce about such fantastical stories. That was when she learned that all of the businesses in the realm of Gel’Grandal closed on that date, and festivals and parties were held. And over the years, Hilana kept track of the date, and its age, and she knew that this year, 122, was a very special birthday. In truth, she did not know if the Great Tortoise existed, but she had loved the story, and it had stuck with her. And when she could, she observed it. Even if it was just to wish it a Happy Birthday, and many happy returns. They could live a long time, so with luck…
But now that she was on her own in Solunarium, with access to things she wouldn’t have had in the Expanse, and free of the scornful, watchful eyes of her family, Hilana was going to have fun with it. She had arranged with Vasilei to take a half day, borrowing one of the enormous wooden trays from the apothecary, and did her shopping in the Forum for the remaining things she needed. Fruit, mostly, of all kinds, but she did get a couple heads of leafy greens. Variety was the spice of life, and she knew from experience that tortoises did enjoy their greens. How many times had she watched them in the oases, or at the river? Often enough. There used to be one that enjoyed hanging around the herding grounds for the cattle outside of Tertium, having dug down and made its home there. Hilana and the other younger children had plied it with wild berries and greens, and it had become so comfortable it had no inclination to leave. Every time she was in the area, she had always checked on it, even when she was no longer working that herd. But she hadn’t been able to bring it with her to Tertium; not with the deal she had had to make in exchange for her training.
She made her way home, carrying the big basket of groceries and the tray up the stairs to her apartment. Tiaz was hanging lazily around her shoulders, though he was starting to make his way towards the basket, if only to check it out. Sensing nothing of interest, it didn’t take long for the python’s coils to begin his ascension back up along her torso, and was almost back to her shoulders by the time she tucked the tray under her arm to unlock her door and let herself in, closing and locking it once more out of what was now habit. She had on more than one occasion had someone try her doorknob, but considering she had no Runes or other such ability to tell just who was on the other side, they usually left quickly without leaving any indication of who or why. Some suspicious part of her thought that it might have been whomever her father had watching her, because he doubtless knew her address. Asher would have reported that, not that Hilana begrudged it.
In the kitchen, she gave the tray a quick wash before lining up her fruit and taking stock of it. Apples, melons, prickly pears, a pineapple, a variety of berries, such as strawberries and raspberries, and a few bananas. With the cutting board out and a sharp knife, she got to work on the preparation. The leafy greens were spread all over the tray, and sprinkled with clover grown in the greenhouse, and then she began to attack the fruit. Melons were sliced and cut down to size, as Hilana intended to make quite a number of, well, miniature fruit cakes. She had gone scouting down the river with Hayima’el before, so she knew roughly what sizes she needed to be acceptable for her party guests, but she was making a big one for the guest of honour, though she knew the little guests would likely devour it too. Rounds of melon were accentuated with slices of apple, pineapple, and banana, and the berries were used as garnishes and decoration. By the time she had finished, Hilana had filled the entire tray with dozens of cakes made entirely out of fruit, and as an added bonus, she had managed to avoid cutting herself. That gave her cause to chuckle. At least if she did, she knew what to use to close the wound quickly…
Well-satisfied with her efforts, she topped each of the cakes with a few edible flowers from the greenhouse. Hilana covered them up with a light, plain cloth and secured the ends below the tray, carefully tying across the length and breadth of it with twine to keep them as intact as possible on their journey. She took care to make sure she didn’t disturb or misshape her cakes, and went to put Tiaz back in his terrarium to relax. As much as she loved her python, she didn’t want to unduly disturb the guests, and if a predator was about…they might not be so willing to come out. Babies and juveniles were already so skittish, which was natural instinct, and sensing a predator like Tiaz was necessary for their survival. While her coming to them with food was one thing, something they may never encounter again, a snake on the other hand…
She refilled her waterskin and took a couple of dates wrapped in a pita, putting them in her bag on top of the blanket already in there before taking the tray and heading back down the stairs and out to the stable behind the building. This took a bit more doing, what with the well-loaded tray, but she had gotten used to carrying such awkward loads again at work. In the Sands she called home, awkward bundles were a way of life. Once in the stables, she greeted the mounts that were kept there. She’d learned the names of all of them by now, and not all of them were camels. But it was to Hayima’el’s large stall that she went to, opening the tack box and setting her tray on another chest for the time being by an empty stall. “Hayima’el, my love,” she smiled at the big bull, opening the door and presenting him with a prickly pear. He lipped it from her palm, and Hilana hummed at him, rubbing his face with her free hand. Hayima’el had grown up eating such things; thorny trees and plants, cacti, and prickly pears were a great treat. She kissed his nose, slipping his halter over his head, and opened the wooden door to lead him out to stand him in the middle of the aisle. Her grooming kit came out of his box, and she had to grab the stepladder. The bull camel was taller than most horses, and while Hilana stood a good 5’10”, the tuck of his abdomen was still over her head. In the Expanse, he would have laid in the sand for her to groom his back and neck; then stood for her to finish, but the Vastii was perfectly happy moving around on the stepladder while he chewed his cud, completely at ease.
The grooming was a dance between girl and camel, an act of partnership and bonding just as much, if not more, as the way he conveyed her where she wanted to go. Old dust and hair fell freely to the sandy floor, and the servus would clean that out later. She knew some of the residents of the apartment building paid extra for the grooming and additional care of their animals, but this was something she loved to do. It was part of her life. It was the one thing she had been able to hold onto when she had had to return to Tertium, and every move was muscle memory. It was as choreographed to her as any of the shows one might find in the entertainment districts. She worked the combs and brushes over him, feeling and checking his hump and skin for anything that might have been off. Satisfied, she would switch sides before checking the pads of each foot, digging out a bit of straw with a spoon. Another go-over, and she was satisfied before getting out the colourful pads that went under the saddle, getting them into position before hefting the considerable saddle up by his hump and getting it into position on the pads before stepping down from the ladder. Circling him meant that she found a few adjustments to make, and when she was pleased, she secured the saddle and its straps. Considering the heat of the day, she knew she would want the sunshade on, and she fitted the attachments into place. He got another prickly pear from her as a prize for good behaviour, and she connected the colourful lead to his halter before closing his stall door and his tack box, gathering her tray now and letting him follow her out of the stable.
Part II
