Friends and Alliances [Memory] [Cetus]

[Hilana Chenzira]

30 Ash, Year 119

[Closed - Cetus]

It was supposed to be a quick trip in and out. Deliver the goods, get their next shipment that needed to go back out into the sands, resupply, relax for a few days for her pack to spend some time with their friends and families, and go back out into the sands. And unfortunately for Hilana, sometimes things didn’t go as planned. Announcing your plans was a great way to hear the Gods laugh, after all, because no sooner had the transport team made their delivery at the Chenzira headquarters in Tertium did the Vastian who supervised under her father eye her. “Hilana, your father is expecting you at home. He said to tell you as soon as you came in to go to the family estate. There’s important company, and your presence is required.”

That was definitely not what she wanted to hear. She managed to suppress the groan she wanted to let out, and just nodded. “Thank you, Tarquin,” she told him, and glanced back at her head wolf. She already knew that he wasn't going to disagree, not with a direct order from his employer. But he was in charge of her, and that meant his word was law.

“Go on,” Vorenus told her. “We won’t leave without you. If you’re not ready before we are, I will send for you.” The girl nodded.

“Gratias, Vorenus. I’ll see you all later.” Vorenus waved her on as Hilana mouthed, ‘Pray for me!’ before going to gather her camels and head for the Delta to get to her family’s estate. She climbed up on Sakima, her calf still following along behind her. He carried only a light load, as camels grew slowly, and he wasn’t much more than a year old. But he had far more training in the meantime than just carrying; Hayima’el had to learn to work with the caravan and follow instructions, both verbal and touch. This was good socialization for him, and it was good bonding for the two of them. Hilana had not been apart from him since the day he was born; every day he had gotten used to her, being brushed and touched by her, kissed and handled by her. In time, he would be as much of a teammate for her as his mother was. And should it be that Sakima was bred again... she would be riding on Hayima’el.

The substantial estate came into view as she made her way along the Delta. Hilana didn’t take the roads, as that would have been too easy; she took the hike instead. It wasn’t a long trek, but it was enough. The fact that her father wasn’t in the office told her that this was likely an important guest indeed, but the 18-year-old had no idea just who it was. It was regular enough if she was nearby or around that she was brought in to entertain guests of her father’s, especially if they had children around her age, and even those that were younger. She didn’t mind that either; she tended to get along just fine with kids. Tiaz was hanging around her neck, and Risdra was in her basket at the front of Sakima’s saddle. She gently scratched the cat’s ears. What she did with her large bengal depended on how long she was going to have to stay; but Risdra had her own box in Sakima’s box stall, and she usually stayed in the stables rather than coming into the house. If she had to stay for a longer period, Hilana often brought the cat into her room and left her there, but otherwise...

With her camels turned over to her friend in the stable, Hilana and her snake headed for the house, carrying her bags. There was an urgency, so apparently she needed to move. Long legs carried her easily, and the boundless energy of the Nomad served her well. A serva was waiting at the door to let her in. “Domina Hilana, Dominus Lebaoth and Domina Sarala are waiting for you in the living room,” the young woman escorted her with quick steps, offering to take her bags to take them to her room. Hilana just let her; it wasn’t hardly worth the hassle. Do what you have to do, so you can do what you want to do.

She made her way to the large living room, and found her father and her aunt, who was essentially her step-mother, waiting. Lebaoth got up, coming over to her and gave her a hug. She let him, leaning into it, and hugged him back. It was not quite awkward, but it was also not quite loving. It was warm at best; years of struggling against his demands and expectations had her senses sharp here. His hands went to her upper arms and he looked her over. “You look well. A successful trip? I need you to go and get cleaned up, please, the Argentis are coming. They’ll be here soon enough,” he eyed her.

“You have clothes laid out for you in your room,” Sarala advised her niece. “I had something new made for you. The bath has been run for you,” she smiled at the youngest of the girls. “Your snake is looking healthy,” the Vastiana added. There was no real love lost between them, but Hilana knew how it was done. The world survived on pretense. Put on the mask, play the role. She inclined her head to her Aunt.

“Gratias. I will go and get ready. And yes, the trip was successful, we brought back some extra things that I think you will want to see yourself,” Hilana told her father. “They’re certainly exotic. You’ll want the mages to assess them, but I suspect they’ll be of value to someone. Vorenus has them warded to keep them contained for you. We got them from relic hunters,” she added over her shoulder, already heading for the baths. She would be dressed and styled, polished and primed to be ready to entertain as usual. Even if she would rather be with her friends in a taverna...

[Cetus Argenti]

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.”
― Jane Austen, Jane Austen’s Letters

“The feathers -.”

A crowd of strange women clucked and picked at Alba Argenti Bellona; they broke, only, as an ash-gray hand reached here or there, for perfumes and powers and philtres. Cetus hadn’t yet dulled to his mother’s ability to make even the quickest moment an event of its own. Bellona was as capable as her husband, if not more, at commanding attention. Everything centered around her.

“Not the peacock. Cetus? Is my son -,” one of the many women reached out, pulling Cetus in from the edges of the crowd surrounding his mother. “- ah, darling. Aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Yes.”

His mother smiled a familiar smile; her lips saying what she didn’t: “Wrong answer. Try again.”

“It’s a nice tunic. Camel skin.”

“But no jewels? Why not borrow a small thing of mine, yes?” Bellona snapped her fingers, twice, and - like magic - a small silver tray was ferried into view. Jade brooches carved into desert roses. Simple chains of silver and gold. Rings of every type you could imagine. Even a tiara, set with diamonds. These were his mother’s minor pieces. Nothing to her, if lost.

The exact sort of thing she’d risk on a fifteen year-old boy.

“And kohl,” she said, pulling a woman closer to Cetus, “He has his father’s eyes. Human eyes,” she frowned, holding Cetus’s face still as something cold and sharp was drawn along his eyelash.

He winced as another set of hands pin a brooch to his chest. The gold needle pricked his skin. His mother made a disapproving sound, sharp and quick, “We’ll need a fresh tunic. Shame. He’s always had such thin skin.”

---

“Again.”

Cetus repeated everything he was told. Again.

He explained that Lebaoth of Gens Chenzira was one of the more prominent merchants in Tertium. Populus Equestris. Four daughters, Namah, Marah, Athalia, and Hilana. His first wife, Maruth, died in childbirth, with the sixth child - a son. The eldest boy had died in a fire.

“No,” his father sighed, “A snakebite. Atraxian cobra.”

The eldest boy had died from snakebite. Atraxian cobra. Cetus remarked that his second wife, Sarala, was the sister of the first wife. His parents nodded, his cue to continue. And so he did, and recited twenty-four of Lebaoth’s current entrepreneurial ventures. Cetus listed the suggested conversation topics, and which to avoid - namely snakebites and storms. And camel races.

“We can practice on the way,” his mother said, gesturing to the waiting carriage outside their winter villa, “Let’s, shall we?”

---

The estate was massive - even more than home, back in the Umbrium. Lush gardens stood, vibrant, in contrast to the desert. Ponds with rainbow-colored fish and flowers that smelled like his mother’s favorite perfume. Servants - or slaves - stood in a perfect curve, following along the drive, up to the mansion that sat pretty atop the hill.

“Lebaoth is a very important friend, Cetus,” his father said, not looking at him, but the great lawns and towering palm trees, “Our families are close. You’ll call him uncle.”

Cetus nodded, not entirely understanding - not that his understanding was ever the point. He did as he was told, and so long as he did, everyone was always the happier for it.

“Yes, father.”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Hilana just let the fussing over her and her attire happen. She was not a child that needed to be bathed; but her dusky skin was scrubbed with the sponges and cloths, her hair soaked and washed and soaked again, making hair that had been straightened by the desert heat curl up in a wild mass. Her trophies and trinkets, the beads made of glass and metals and stones, as well as some of the teeth of predators, had been removed first; they were always woefully inappropriate here for when she had to have her hair styled. That was one thing Hilana made sure of; she knew where they were so that when it was time to head back out…she could put them back in herself. Her curls were combed and oiled and combed some more, rolled with cloth to bring them structure once again, gathered and drawn up with combs and clips, pinned just so. Copper and silver earrings were replaced with gold rings, from small and slender little hoops all the way down to larger ones in the lowest holes of her earlobes. Makeup was applied. Kohl, rouge, a little bit more oil for her skin. The sun had darkened her up some more, with multiple freckles on her face and arms.

She would have to give credit to her aunt where it was due; the ombré blues with the golden trim of the hand-painted sari was quite nice. Hilana was wrapped up with it, over her exposed abdomen and over her shoulder to her arm, and looked at herself in the mirror. It was almost funny to see the image reflecting back at her, as Hilana crossed her eyes and made a face, before closing them and steeling herself. A golden necklace and a wide, matching bracelet completed the look, and she had to shake her head at the image she saw looking back at her. This was what her father wanted her to be. It wasn’t who she was. Still, out she went with the appropriate steps rather than her usual long stride, leaving the bedroom and heading to the main room, where her father and aunt were waiting to look her over.

“Uncle Mattia, Domina Bellona, and Cetus,” Hilana said as her father started to talk, and he eyed her and nodded. “He is a Senator, she was Ex-Re’ha, but chose Uncle Mattia over her old rank. But we all still address her as Domina because she is Syltori. Uncle Mattia is first addressed as Senator Argenti, and then switch to Uncle. Domina is always Domina. Cetus is Lord Cetus, then referred to as Cetus,” the girl finished. Sarala reached to try to try to adjust her niece’s hair, and Hilana’s lips thinned. As a child, she screamed if her Aunt so much as tried to touch her hair. And she looked like she might do it again.

“Do not,” Lebaoth warned her, and Hilana breathed through her teeth, her eyes flashing, her body tensing as her aunt carefully adjusted some of her niece’s curls that had been moved by the thick python that was settling on her shoulders.

“Thank you for the outfit,” Hilana said finally once her Aunt’s offending hand was out of her hair. The colours are beautiful.”

“It suits you,” Sarala agreed.

“We don’t talk about the camels, the sands, the group that you go with, any of it,” the Equestrian merchant eyed his youngest daughter as he listed them off. “If it must be talked about, and it likely will not be, you are making connections and networks with the eastern tribes, as well as learning the geography and navigation. Stick to discussion of Capital events, ask thoughtful questions - not whatever pops into your head, Hilana. It is better to be silent and thought a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

Hilana just nodded. There was no point in saying anything, because activity at the front of the manor indicated that her sisters and their husbands were arriving. Namah with Caius, Marah with Loukas, and Athalia with Damon. All of them were surprised to see Hilana, but they knew better than to comment on it beyond superficial pleasantries and hellos. Her sisters were spared the lecture; this was what they did with their lives beyond running their households and raising children. They socialized and networked, they entertained and presided over social events with their spouses. Sooner them than her, as far as Hilana was concerned. She was the most brightly dressed of the daughters, but considering her age and that she was too young even for her father to betroth her, it was appropriate.

That, and Hilana couldn’t know that this was also meant to let their guests get an estimate on how the odds might fare for her in Solunarium Proper.

With the servii lining the lane, the Chenzira family lined up inside. When the Argentis’ elegant carriage came to a stop before the wide marble steps and the footman opened it, the mansion’s double doors opened and the Equestrian and his wife were there, all smiles to see the family that had come. “Your Lordship, Senator Argenti, Domina Bellona, Lord Cetus,” the man greeted them warmly. Lebaoth knew how the game was played; he was intimately familiar with glad-handling and hobnobbing, but with Mattia and his family, it was genuine. “Welcome, welcome,” he would bow, and Sarala in her pastel blue dress would curtsy.

Lebaoth would guide them in, as his daughters and their spouses also curtsied and bowed, offering the proper greetings of their own to the Senator, his Moonborn wife, and their child. Who, despite being a teenager, outranked all of them. But Gens Chenzira knew their place; and while they were well familiar with the Argenti family, proper respect had to be paid first. It was simply the way of things, and they knew how the system worked. Hilana, with the strangely patterned snake on her shoulders like a living accessory, was at the end of the receiving line. “It has been some time since you’ve seen her last, but my youngest, Hilana,” the Equestrian introduced his last daughter. The wildcard, despite being nearly three years older than Cetus, hardly looked her age with those big eyes of hers. It had been nearly ten years since they'd last laid eyes on the child who spent most of her life in the Expanse, but she had grown up well.

“Your Lordship, Senator Argenti, Domina Bellona, Lord Cetus,” Hilana had no way of curtsying with the way that the sari was wrapped around her, and so she offered a combination of the curtsy and a bow instead, straightening back up. “Welcome to Tertium,” she smiled brightly at them, “did you come by the barge?” The snake around her shoulders barely moved through the exchange, looking for all the world like he was asleep. They could be shown in to the expansive receiving room, and tidily-dressed slaves would be bringing trays of their guests’ preferred vintages for their choosing once they were situated.

[Cetus Argenti]

Cetus, before Leboath guided them in, before the curtsies and the bows and the titles, before the introductions to the last daughter he didn’t remember, might have predicted exactly what would have happened. That was, of course, what etiquette and tradition allowed for - knowing.

Cetus knew the ways in which hierarchy fell. He knew where he stood, where Leboath stood - and his family, and he knew where his parents ranked. Cetus understood conversation, because his parents trained him. The etiquette of titles, of knowing who speaks first and who speaks last. Tradition provided a foundation from which the rest grew, society and all other things, a prim garden easily walked, if you knew the way.

Which, of course, Cetus did.

He followed after his parents, careful not to rush - or appeared rushed. He bowed, but never too deeply, to Leboath, to his wife, to his daughters, all in proper order. He was quiet as his father congratulated Leboath on the health of his family and presented him with a fine vintage of sweet berry wine. He smiled, as his mother fawned over the wife and daughters, a servant at her side showering each one with various gifts - a broche, a ring, gorgeous ear-rings. Almost tacky.

But, they were rich. These sorts of gifts were nothing, here.

“Yes, and what a -,” his mother paused, her eyes landing on the snake that posed as still as any scarf, “- but who is this magnificent creature?”

“I believe it’s a snake, darling,” his father said, a teasing smirk coloring his otherwise far-too-serious expression.

“And next you’ll tell me the sky is blue, Mattia,” his mother said - a signal, if subtle, to the room; they were family, enough, that they might hear her call her husband by his name, without title. She rolled her eyes, although the gesture was entirely for Hillaria. “Men,” she smiled, producing a small package from her purse, “It’s impressive, isn’t it? How clever they think they are.”

A moment, perfect - and manufactured. Cetus had seen this a hundred times, if slightly different. His parents played off each other, pretending to be warmer and kinder than they were. It was a game, a ploy, one he’d learned once Gala had shown him the rules. They both fit so easily in the roles expected of them, of man and wife, conversation between them becoming another tool they so easily wielded against their true target.

Hilaria.

Leboath was at his wits ends, and luckily, Mattia and Bellona thought up a simple solution. The girl could come to the Solarium. They would introduce her to the right people, the right suitors, and if they were successful, Leboath would have a blood tie to the Luxium - or the Umbrium - and Mattia would find himself with another ally close by. A win for all, if Hilaria could be swayed.

“Cetus,” his father said, hardly needing to raise his voice more than a whisper, “was so excited to pick out the gifts.”

“I was,” Cetus nodded, lying - he hadn’t known about the gifts. But, this too had been rehearsed in the carriage. “I hope you all like them.”

[Hilana Chenzira]

Domina Bellona was thanked by each of Lebaoth’s family as gifts were presented, her health inquired after, the jewelry admired. They were respectful, of course, and the pieces that had been chosen would be kept and worn later - there would surely be another get-together before Gens Argenti departed Tertium, and when there was, Sarala and the elder sisters would surely be wearing it. And whether Hilana knew it or not, she certainly would, too. One had to show appreciation for the gifts from a family so close to their own, after all. It was the proper thing to do, considering the differences in their castes. For those who were of nomadic stock, they’d learned the rules and learned them well. They understood the etiquette, they understood how to make things work.

All the things Hilana would need to learn to make it in the cities, but for someone whose life revolved around the Atraxian Expanse, she wasn’t doing too badly. Possibly her father’s sharp lessons had stuck when he was able to drill them into her, or maybe whatever tutors had been arranged had gotten through. But for someone who had just come in from a months-long trip a few short hours ago, one would never guess it to look at her. But when they praised the look of the calm python that was settled on the teenager’s shoulders, that did at least get Hilana’s guard down just a bit. Polite as she was, as confident as she was, she was still a little lamb around powerful predators that enjoyed the taste of lambchops. Of course, that wouldn’t do, not if they were to make use of her in politics or something else. If she didn’t learn to play the games, she would be devoured, and a potentially valuable piece on their game board lost for nothing. But for all the strange pets the upper castes had, a snake that was this calm and this comfortable around strangers was perhaps one of the better ones. Especially for someone who didn’t use magic. His colouring was exotic, a strange blend of white, grey, and black.

“Thank you, Domina,” the girl smiled at the Moonborn lady, inclining her head to her, though she bit her bottom lips to keep herself from chuckling at the light joke she made at her husband’s expense, though her eyes danced as she looked from Uncle Mattia and back to his wife. “His name is Tiaz... Oh, thank you very much,” Hilana bowed again to her, accepting the box. She was athletic, which was to be expected, given where she had spent the majority of her life. That was a start; she could move despite the clothes. Nimble fingers deftly opened the box to take a peek at its contents. But since Domina Bellona called her husband by his name, it was the cue to relax on the titles. Except, of course, for the Re’hyaean. That would have been too much. “Thank you, Cetus. You have great taste,” Hilana told him brightly, her smile warm and lacking the manipulative guile that he had grown used to seeing. Her sisters spoke up in agreement to the baby of the family, voicing their approval of the boy. They likely knew, but none of them would ever actually voice it. The world survived on pretense.

The gathering moved to the large sitting room, and slaves brought forward boxes of different sizes of their own. Lebaoth presented Mattia with his first; a rather detailed silver dragon statuette that resembled the Crownwyrm, and sitting beneath one large clawed foot was a very impressive-sized mnemonosyte dragonshard, the brilliant blues contrasting with the exquisite craftsmanship of the dragon. Sarala presented Bellona with lacquered wooden box that was inlaid and edged with silver filigree, containing a necklace that contained countless of her favourite gemstones, woven together into an elegant mosaic with such delicate silver wire that it was as fluid and flexible as silk - it would sit just so on her when worn, draping and shaping to her perfectly like fabric, rather than being chunky or uncomfortable. There was a matching cuff-like bracelet that accompanied it. As for Cetus, it was Hilana that offered him the rectangular box, his name engraved on the lid. It was a bit light, but contained within was a dagger sheathed with what looked to be black and silver scales. If he decided to take it out, he would find that it was elegantly detailed, but it was also wickedly sharp. There was a dragon etched on the flat of the blade on both sides, and the shaped, yet comfortable handle had inlays of silver filigree. The end pommel was a faceted onyx, ensuring a perfect balance to the weapon. Whether he chose to ever make use of it, or just keep it on display, was his choice. Lebaoth had grown up learning a variety of weapons, but a dagger made the most sense to him in cities full of mages.

None of them ever expected to be stabbed.

Drinks were presented, and a variety of hors d'oeuvres served to the guests first to take their pick. They knew what the favourites were from their long-time association, and a few new things from the new foreign kitchen slave were added to the mixture to offer a taste of the exotic.
Everyone could sit on the comfortable furniture and enjoy the views of the property and the Delta, and start catching up - how the trip went, how they were doing, and how things were progressing in the Capital. “How are you enjoying school, Cetus?” Hilana asked the younger teen, her eyes on him. The two of them, unlike the older couples with their varied wines, had a rather effervescent sparkling berry drink instead.

[Cetus Argenti]

ACetus hadn’t ever had a dagger before.

He wondered at the blade - at the sheath, made up in what looked to be black and silver scales. The dagger shined, polished and bright with silver filigree. The metal (iron, he supposed) was delicately engraved. A dragon, for each side. The end, the grip or the pommel, was cut with a black stone of some sort. His mother would want to examine it, herself, later.

“The Academy?”

He sheathed the blade, carefully, and neatly arranged the dagger back into the box engraved with his name. It was a very pretty gift.

“It’s -.”

His mother left to join his father and Leboath and his wife, and the other daughters. There was a loud pop as a bottle was opened, and the glug of something that could be wine or mead or something else sweet and sparkling.

“ - challenging. There’s a lot to learn. Not only magic, but histories and algebra and astronomy. Politics, too, for me,” he said, shrugging. School was hardly his favorite topic. He didn’t excel there, not that he really shone anywhere. Khyan and Raithen were bright enough Cetus hardly had much of a chance of standing out, and even with Summoning, Gala was more likely to take charge in negotiations than he ever was. It was easier, he found, to stand aside.

“...where did you find your snake?”

[Hilana Chenzira]

A slave would take the engraved, lacquered box for him and put it with the gifts that had been given to his family in preparation of their return to the vacation villa once the the night was over. The Argentis were served the finger foods first, as was natural for guests, especially those of a higher caste, and while Sarala was keeping an eye on Hilana, her attention was soon diverted to the other conversations. The girl was usually good when it came to entertaining; especially with those around her age…but that was with the peregrini who wanted an exotic experience. Cetus was from a native family, and this was different altogether. With luck, she wouldn’t open her mouth and insert her foot; but with Hilana, it was probable.

She listened to him as he mentioned school being challenging; and the list of some of the subjects that he had had to learn. It wasn’t just what he said, but what he didn’t say once their parents were focused on the conversations that her elder sisters participated in. She in truth wanted no part of those, though the both of them would be involved in them again before the night was over. He didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it, as a place of learning or a subject of conversation, and Hilana left it alone when he instead asked about Tiaz. It just reinforced her own opinion that she was better off in the Sands rather than dealing with it all in the cities. Besides that, she couldn’t very well tell him to scarper out and find something he actually enjoyed. His circumstances with his family would never allow for it. He would have to find happiness somehow within the framework he was allowed… but she rather hoped he could. He certainly deserved that.

“I got him from a trader in Tertium about a year and a half ago, when he was just a hatchling,” the girl brightened, reaching to gently lift the constrictor from her shoulders, guiding him out from under her hair. The reptile seemed as used to being handled as he was hanging out on the girl’s shoulders. Tiaz was able to use her arms to further support himself as Hilana brought her other hand up to offer the snake to Cetus. “Do you want to try petting him or holding him?” she offered. “He doesn’t bite, he is quite relaxed,” Hilana sought to assure him. “I carry him pretty much everywhere and he’s used to meeting new people.” The snake did look relaxed - coils of grey and white and black made for a rather exotic looking creature, and his skin was surprisingly smooth and soft, and if Cetus was up to it, she would place the sturdy, thick snake in his hands.

[Talisman]

Review

Name: Hilana Chenzira

XP: 10 Points, no Magic
Lore: 15 Lores
Injuries/Ailments: None
Loot: None

Notes: Thread abandoned, but what was established was interesting indeed.