Legend of Ransera

2nd of Glade, Year 123 of Steel
Cintamani Pavilion, Kalzasi

Only the first day of the year had been considered a holiday, but despite the wishes of the Iron Queen-Regent, Kala spent much of her time doing ministry work from home. She felt safer there than she did in the Palace of the First Wind, where Arcas Reborn had been subdued and kidnapped in the heart of his mortal father's power. Perhaps she was wrong, but she felt more secure behind the wards of her family and surrounded by those who knew and loved her. In any case, she knew Lord Minister Tianoch's schedule and was present at the palace when required.

"Kavafis' man is here," Kanedama said from the door with his usual lack of manners. Kala didn't truly care if he used her proper titles and honorifics in private—they worked together—but she was aware that most people needed the structure of hierarchy and its forms to feel secure, to feel as though they understood the situation in which they found themselves.

"Thank you, Kanedama," she said. "You may show him in." She set her stylus aside and looked up. Her neck ached a bit from looking down to pore over papers and write, but she would dance later to loosen up her muscles. For now, she perservered. As much as she wanted to unfurl her wings and stretch, it would certainly disconcert her guest upon first meeting. Most people even after their first meeting stared at her wings. She couldn't blame them, but it had grown tiresome. Perhaps that too was a reason she often stayed at home.

Kala understood why Master Kavafis preferred to send someone with information. Lord Yserloo was a bit of a social butterfly and would take umbrage with the theater's impresario making social connections without him. She did hope to speak to him personally before she risked herself and the Blue Star with overtures to the remains of Zaichaer. She was aware that the man had been to Zaichaer on several occasions since the cataclysm that had broken the High City, and she wanted to be well informed before she made a more overt gesture than humanitarian aid.

The elf let the man in, then closed the door behind him without introductions. She was definitely going to have to sit down and talk with him about decorum.

Kala rose.

"Pardon my secretary," she begged. "He is new. I am Kala Leukos. Welcome to Cintamani Pavilion. I understand Master Kavafis has sent you with documents for me?"

Rivin's employer had sent him to spy, to obtain information, to plant information, to obtain or re-obtain goods, but he had, until now, never sent the Lysanrin to deliver information. He assumed it was information, though he supposed it might be a contract or similar legal document. The House, Leukos, was not one he knew much about. Additionally, no one else seemed to know much about either. Everyone knew the basic information that any house presented, their imports and exports, their declared income, the number of soldiers they could officially field, who they owed fealty to, etc. But the layer beneath, that he had learned every noble family wore like undergarments, was absent. None of the three adult heirs even seemed to be seeking a marriage, which seemed conspicuous in itself, based on how much emphasis usually appeared to be put on that action.

He did not need to know the House's secrets to deliver a packet of papers, however. While the task might seem to be a pointless one, they were using it to try out a new face; Hytori and mild, neither specifically attractive nor ugly, not interesting in any particular way. The person who came into his head when he looked as this face in the mirror was a mild man, used to doing the bidding of others and content in his work. His work was mostly that of a scribe, a part of Rivin's own personality and skill set that he could lean into. Recording information, taking dictation these were things he'd learned under Ilex and his penmanship was precise.

Building a wardrobe for each of his personas was oddly much more entertaining than building his own upon arrival in the city had been. Perhaps he had been to stressed and worried about discovery to properly enjoy anything. More likely it was the subterfuge that intrigued him and lit up the parts of his brain that were keen to do well.

The town home of House Leukos was grand; though not as large as some it was intentionally beautiful and felt like it was intended to be an actual home, comfortable.

When he arrived he was told to wait, which he did, because Hemraz would do so without complaint or comment (Hemraz was the name he had chosen for the scribe). The smile he offered to the Lady Kala when he was led into her presence was one he could only describe as 'papery'. To get it he had spent hours hanging around what libraries were available to the public for a small fee. The posture, way of holding his hands clasped together before himself had mostly come from there too. Shoulders slightly bent without being hunched showed obeisance without sniveling, a straight back showed a confidence in his abilities. He would meet the eye of someone who spoke to him but otherwise he kept his gaze at a middle ground to show that his thoughts were elsewhere.

So it was that he bowed to her over the smile and introduced himself, as the servant hadn't even asked his name.

"Galan Hemraz, My Lady. There is nothing to forgive. Yes, I have brought these for you." Taking a sheaf of papers in a leather folder out from one of the large inner pockets of his cloak he offered it in a position that was not quite another bow.

"Excellent," she said, then indicated the comfortable, quietly beautiful armchairs set before her desk. "Please, take a seat. From what I understand, these will take some time for a full examination, but I have time to give them a cursory first glance and we can both ask any necessary questions."

Kala sat, which gave him permission to sit if he was aware of Kalzasern etiquette. There was a muffled commotion at the door, then an overly correct knock. She sighed, then smiled again.

"The first is likely whether you will take tea. Come in."

The door opened behind Galan, and Kala used the distraction to open the leather folder and begin to peruse the documents. Kanedama was clearly in conflict with a servant to decide who ought to bring the tea service in. It was likely also clear that the queer elven man was overcompensating for something, likely forgetting that he ought to offer. Kala wasn't upset at that; he was her secretary and assistant and she had a full staff here in here home. He just didn't understand decorum, made bad choices, and often attempted to fast talk his way out of his own mistakes.

Her assistant was more striking than Galan Hemraz, who was beautiful in the way that all Hytori were beautiful. But Kanedama looked to a discerning eye as though he had both Dratori and Siltori blood—at least, he had tanned skin and silver hair. The blue eyes might have been a strange result of that strange mixture, or perhaps he had human blood as well. It wouldn't be polite to call Galan blandly beautiful, but that was what he was. If it was all a masquerade, it was a keen one; he looked beautifully Hytori, but not out of the ordinary for a high elf.

The servant, better trained, glared after Kanedama for a spare moment, then disappeared, not wanting to trouble the lady further.

"Vice-Minister," Kanedama said too loudly. "Your tea." Everything rattled a bit as he stopped the cart a bit too abruptly. "Master... ah... how do you take your tea?" He was already preparing Kala's, at least. He knew that much.

The look she gave Kanedama was opaque, but that, in and of itself, spoke volumes, at least to those who knew her. It was often a joke with Kaus that she was seen as so serene these days. The Fire had chosen her, and she only showed most people a candle flame or a warm hearth. Her family in Starfall knew her forest fires and her infernos. And now she had the heart of a star, the stellar furnace of creation within her. But she only smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Kanedama." He knew how she took her tea, and she let her gaze drop down to the dossier.

The elf's eyes caught on the name Kavafis, and there was a flicker of something hungry before he shuttered his eyes. He poured for the lady first, and then black tea for her guest. Instead of setting out cream, sugar, and other such condiments, he stood by at the side of her desk with the tea service, using further service as an excuse to stay and listen. Now he was between them, Galan needn't feel the hairs on his neck rising for anyone lingering behind him.

There was time enough for a few measured sips of tea before she looked up from her examination of the documents, and had a sip of her own.

"Have you been to Zaichaer, Master Hemraz?" she asked. "Before or after its destruction?"

There was a note of hope in her blue eyes, curious, but not endarting any deeper into him than casual interest. She wanted to see it for herself, but she had an agreement with the Queen-Regent not to endanger herself. She was going to have to secure the Rune of Traversion to help her move around the world more quickly. Deities were supposed to be omnipresent. Well, perhaps not her ilk, but she would become as omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent as she could.

Her eyes did rise, the corners crinkling as she smiled.

"You have a refined palate, Master Hemraz."

As for the rest, her smile saddened. "I have only seen it in its former glory as well. I understand Master Kavafis has made more than one venture into the ruins. I wonder if I might employ him to deliver messages there. Official channels can be so slow."

Her eyes fell back to the pages before her. Kanedama was looking at Galan now, deep blue eyes calculating for just a moment. Kala had revealed a thing she knew, and her errant-seeming thought begged a thousand questions. She didn't seem pleased with the destruction of the High City, though certainly some of its remains were higher than ever, skyborne like the palaces of the Great Houses of Kalzasi.

Galan Hemraz was a mysterious man who seemed banal on the surface. Perhaps he would take the bait. Perhaps not. She straightened the papers, closed the dossier and set it aside to look at more fully at a later time. She smiled up at the elf once more.

"Master Kavafis and I have a shared interest in Kilvin's Forge," she volunteered. "Those numbers are certainly in order. As for the rest, a cursory overview raises no alarums, but I should have a more comprehensive report within a few days." Kala took up her cup and saucer and sipped her tea, content to have a bit of a social intermission with him.

"How do you find your employment? I know Master Kilvin enjoys his."

Though the forge wasn't officially a part of Master Kavafis' portfolio, she knew that he would do whatever was within his power to keep Torin afloat. Of course, Torin would never need that with House Leukos' support, but it was good to know that her nose for business was corroborated by others. Torin was working out better than she could have hoped, now a landowner near Starfall but trusted well enough that he was able to remain in Kalzasi, as well.

"You will certainly see him before I do," she said. "If the matter of Zaichaer comes up and you think of it, please let him know that I am interested in his associates there as well. Whether that be to invest in rebuilding or rehoming those who have suffered from the holocaust." She smiled at his admission. "The devil is oft in the details. I am certain Master Kavafis understands that, as well."

If she knew him best by Torin's descriptions, she could also see the way he had worked from afar—coming to Kalzasi a stranger in a strange land, building up business contacts and managerial skills in one establishment, then vaulting to a more prestigious, albeit similar employment next door, all while building himself a modest keiretsu. Had he set his sights on her position, she wouldn't be surprised to have him usurp it.

Kanedama startled, eyes widening. When his employer turned her gaze upon him, he murmured apologies and hurried for the door. She watched him go.

"He does good work," she mused aloud, "but he is an odd duck."

For her part, she was well aware of what lay within Kanedama. She was observing him much as a certain Lysanrin had for his Master outside Zaichaer, waiting to see if he was redeemable or would become a danger to the people of Kalzasi—or himself. The strange case of a summoner whose summon had "won," though not completely, was something of great interest to her. Asallon also made frequent house calls both to serve his lady goddess and to observe the anomaly. He was a summoner, after all, and wanted to avoid a similar fate.

That she was unwilling to smite an embodied demon on sight might have worried some people.

Points: 10 each, not for magic

Injuries/Ailments: None

Loot: None

Notes: Two demons sit down for tea with a goddess...

Mod XP: None