Re: When The River Runs Dry (Volume II) [Open]
Posted: Wed Aug 11, 2021 3:48 pm
Glade 80th, 121. Zaichaer, Northbound to Kalzasi
Zaichaeri eyes stayed fixed on Jane as she walked alongside the Prince of Kalzasi. She kept her head lowered, fearful of what she might see in the faces of her countrymen. She watched as the feet of the crowd shuffled back, but onlookers still choked their path. Jane bumped into one, not realizing he was so close, and she looked up. Grim and accusatory expressions surrounded her, as if already labeling her a traitor. She silently pleaded for sympathy, but only received disgust at best. The Zaichaeri doctor who had answered the call for help was among those faces. He was severe but gave her a quick nod as he roughly wiped the blood from his hands. Jane weakly nodded in return and dropped her gaze, focusing instead on the faint glow radiating across the deck.
Talon's question had startled her and it look her a moment to process what he had asked. She peeled her hands apart and looked at the dried blood that had seeped into the creases of her skin. Sickness struck her, but she managed to push it back down. He seemed surprised by her apparent act of charity, but she could not consider it as such. She had acted under panic, her sympathies more with the doctor who had demanded her assistance than his patient.
“Yes. I was asked to help.”, she answered plainly.
Gods, from what she understood, true or not, could see into the hearts of mortals—know their thoughts, know their desires. Any lie would be in vain. Jane wondered how much of her he could see and felt painfully naked in his presence. He offered his sympathies for what she had endured. Outside of those terse negotiations, the way he spoke was remarkably affable. It was not what she would have expected of a prince, much less a demigod. Then again, a god had every reason to win the loyalty of a mortal.
“Yes. I am only grateful that it is now resolved and the boy is receiving proper treatment. Thank you, I wish the same for you.”. Jane was relieved the conflict had passed, but a nagging shadow of resentment lurked in the back of her mind. They were in Zaichaeri territory; the State was within their right to detain the boy, injured or not. The Major and his soldiers had acted under the presumption of guilt, but the Prince had acted under his sympathies. Neither was unbiased, but undermining the State within its territory by using his status and entourage was disrespectful on a level that would surely incite the Grand Marshal's ire. The argument had run deeper than the boy's fate and witnessing it first hand had offered an unnerving revelation of the tensions between the two nations.
Pained screams rang out as they entered the infirmary. Jane winced, surprised that the boy still had as much strength as he did, but she tried not to focus on the commotion. The medic responded to Talon's request by quickly preparing a tincture of some sort. Jane numbly accepted it, not caring what it could be, only wishing for the relief that was offered. A bittersweet flavor overwhelmed her palate and she reeled at the taste before feeling strangely drowsy. All that passed became distant, almost dreamlike, but the shock from hearing the Prince's invitation to his palace quickly grounded her.
Jane's mind raced. No longer was she standing before a demigod, but instead an incredibility prominent political figure. As his role changed, so did hers, and she suddenly felt like less of a passenger and more like a representative of Zaichaer. She began to regret whatever impression her cold demeanor might have made and hoped it did not deepen the hatred he surely felt for her home. It was a coveted invitation, a rare opportunity that most would never encounter in their lives. Regardless, she still had her original business in Kalzasi, not to mention the resistance she'd face from her mother. Beyond that, however, was fear--mortal terror of what she might encounter within the strange walls of that palace, though the thought of refusing him produced no less dread.
She craned her neck back, eyes wide, to meet his radiant gaze. Never in her life had she'd seen someone so indescribably beautiful, but this only made his godhood feel all the more insidious. A prevalent thought within New Atheism was the denouncement of demigods as merely mortals possessed by gods. They were proxies used to gain a following on a more tangible level. The will of their host was compromised, fooled into believing the power they had was their own, and it was said that the more powerful they grew the less of the original self remained. Jane wondered how much of him was Prince Talon Novalys and how much was the entity using his visage and power. Ultimately the answer did not matter at this moment and with a trembling hand she placed down her drink on a nearby table.
"P-prince Novalys--thank you--I, um, only felt, um, pressured to do what was, uh--needed. The, um, true c-credit goes to a doctor--a Zaichaeri doctor. He w--he was the one who s-stabilized him--the boy . "Jane stuttered as she curtseyed. Actually trying to speak to him on a significant level was proving to be difficult and would have been impossible if it weren't for the tincture steadying her nerves.
"Thank you--your invitation was--is, um, extraordinarily generous and, um, would--I, um, ah--had I not had, um, previous obligations I would be delighted to visit--to visit your palace. You see, my aunt, yes, my-my aunt--who had gotten my mother and I onboard your, um, your ship--actually--is, uh, ex-expecting us, you see. It's been decades and--and--I really cannot cancel my plans w-with her. Please forgive me this is all so very overwhelming and--and--I-I-I do not mean to offend. Again, thank you--for the offer--."
Her heart beating in her ears, Jane picked up her cup and took a shaky drink. The infirmary grew deathly still as the injured Fae finally passed out. The medical team checked his vitals and seemed to be preparing him for surgery. She caught a glimpse of the young man's face as she was ushered out of the room, his eyes closed and smeared with blood. Guilty or innocent, whatever horrors he suffered were undeserved. The sight of that horrible severed head flashed across her mind and Jane chased it away with the last of her tincture, only wishing that this day would end.
Zaichaeri eyes stayed fixed on Jane as she walked alongside the Prince of Kalzasi. She kept her head lowered, fearful of what she might see in the faces of her countrymen. She watched as the feet of the crowd shuffled back, but onlookers still choked their path. Jane bumped into one, not realizing he was so close, and she looked up. Grim and accusatory expressions surrounded her, as if already labeling her a traitor. She silently pleaded for sympathy, but only received disgust at best. The Zaichaeri doctor who had answered the call for help was among those faces. He was severe but gave her a quick nod as he roughly wiped the blood from his hands. Jane weakly nodded in return and dropped her gaze, focusing instead on the faint glow radiating across the deck.
Talon's question had startled her and it look her a moment to process what he had asked. She peeled her hands apart and looked at the dried blood that had seeped into the creases of her skin. Sickness struck her, but she managed to push it back down. He seemed surprised by her apparent act of charity, but she could not consider it as such. She had acted under panic, her sympathies more with the doctor who had demanded her assistance than his patient.
“Yes. I was asked to help.”, she answered plainly.
Gods, from what she understood, true or not, could see into the hearts of mortals—know their thoughts, know their desires. Any lie would be in vain. Jane wondered how much of her he could see and felt painfully naked in his presence. He offered his sympathies for what she had endured. Outside of those terse negotiations, the way he spoke was remarkably affable. It was not what she would have expected of a prince, much less a demigod. Then again, a god had every reason to win the loyalty of a mortal.
“Yes. I am only grateful that it is now resolved and the boy is receiving proper treatment. Thank you, I wish the same for you.”. Jane was relieved the conflict had passed, but a nagging shadow of resentment lurked in the back of her mind. They were in Zaichaeri territory; the State was within their right to detain the boy, injured or not. The Major and his soldiers had acted under the presumption of guilt, but the Prince had acted under his sympathies. Neither was unbiased, but undermining the State within its territory by using his status and entourage was disrespectful on a level that would surely incite the Grand Marshal's ire. The argument had run deeper than the boy's fate and witnessing it first hand had offered an unnerving revelation of the tensions between the two nations.
Pained screams rang out as they entered the infirmary. Jane winced, surprised that the boy still had as much strength as he did, but she tried not to focus on the commotion. The medic responded to Talon's request by quickly preparing a tincture of some sort. Jane numbly accepted it, not caring what it could be, only wishing for the relief that was offered. A bittersweet flavor overwhelmed her palate and she reeled at the taste before feeling strangely drowsy. All that passed became distant, almost dreamlike, but the shock from hearing the Prince's invitation to his palace quickly grounded her.
Jane's mind raced. No longer was she standing before a demigod, but instead an incredibility prominent political figure. As his role changed, so did hers, and she suddenly felt like less of a passenger and more like a representative of Zaichaer. She began to regret whatever impression her cold demeanor might have made and hoped it did not deepen the hatred he surely felt for her home. It was a coveted invitation, a rare opportunity that most would never encounter in their lives. Regardless, she still had her original business in Kalzasi, not to mention the resistance she'd face from her mother. Beyond that, however, was fear--mortal terror of what she might encounter within the strange walls of that palace, though the thought of refusing him produced no less dread.
She craned her neck back, eyes wide, to meet his radiant gaze. Never in her life had she'd seen someone so indescribably beautiful, but this only made his godhood feel all the more insidious. A prevalent thought within New Atheism was the denouncement of demigods as merely mortals possessed by gods. They were proxies used to gain a following on a more tangible level. The will of their host was compromised, fooled into believing the power they had was their own, and it was said that the more powerful they grew the less of the original self remained. Jane wondered how much of him was Prince Talon Novalys and how much was the entity using his visage and power. Ultimately the answer did not matter at this moment and with a trembling hand she placed down her drink on a nearby table.
"P-prince Novalys--thank you--I, um, only felt, um, pressured to do what was, uh--needed. The, um, true c-credit goes to a doctor--a Zaichaeri doctor. He w--he was the one who s-stabilized him--the boy . "Jane stuttered as she curtseyed. Actually trying to speak to him on a significant level was proving to be difficult and would have been impossible if it weren't for the tincture steadying her nerves.
"Thank you--your invitation was--is, um, extraordinarily generous and, um, would--I, um, ah--had I not had, um, previous obligations I would be delighted to visit--to visit your palace. You see, my aunt, yes, my-my aunt--who had gotten my mother and I onboard your, um, your ship--actually--is, uh, ex-expecting us, you see. It's been decades and--and--I really cannot cancel my plans w-with her. Please forgive me this is all so very overwhelming and--and--I-I-I do not mean to offend. Again, thank you--for the offer--."
Her heart beating in her ears, Jane picked up her cup and took a shaky drink. The infirmary grew deathly still as the injured Fae finally passed out. The medical team checked his vitals and seemed to be preparing him for surgery. She caught a glimpse of the young man's face as she was ushered out of the room, his eyes closed and smeared with blood. Guilty or innocent, whatever horrors he suffered were undeserved. The sight of that horrible severed head flashed across her mind and Jane chased it away with the last of her tincture, only wishing that this day would end.