Lauryn's new pet is called "Jturisk", a name that doesn't trip off Lauryn's tongue or the Laosians, who call her "Juri" when they deign to name her at all. Mostly they ignore the emene girl, leaving her to Lauryn's devices. If the Laosians are puzzled or curious about Lauryn's decision to take the girl, they don't show it. For her part, the girl keeps to herself and keeps quiet as much as possible, though her ears are alert, constantly flicking and listening.
The group makes it through the mountain pass without incident, but less than a day's ride from Theolisis the diplomatic party calls a halt at one of the frequent shelters, in light of the gloomy clouds threatening above them. They are careful to stow all of their possessions and drokars either in the shelter of beneath the cover of their ceramic-tiled tent roofs. All the paranoia makes no sense to Lauryn; even if it does rain, surely a little water wouldn't hurt that much.
For hours, they wait in the shelter as the day grows darker and gloomier, and Lauryn resents the stop; they could've been home by now if they'd only pushed on. The storm doesn't start until nearly nightfall anyway.
And when it does start, Lauryn finally understands the reason for all this concern. What falls from the clouds in smooth sheets looks like rain, but when it strikes the ground it hisses, and where it strikes leaves, it leaves holes through them. She watches in awe as the landscape around her melts and runs in green trails. Most of the living wood appears undamaged by it, but leaves and shoots are stripped away, and fallen sticks dissolve in puddles. The scent of plant pulp fills the air, along with a bitter, acrid tang. The 'rain' -- skoto -- streams off the tiled roof of the permanent shelter without damage. The wind blows from the northeast, and on those sides, they had erected leather screens beneath the roof. The next morning, Lauryn can sees pockmark in the leather where drops of skoto were blown against it.
"I have never seen its like," Lauryn confides to Archon Skotonys as they busy with preparing their mounts. "A rain that devours; I see now why we avoid it so." She shakes her head, never thinking she'd find the sky so fearsome. Her homeland -- Rephidim -- rarely saw severe weather of any type, although she had heard its presence over the surface can cause such. She wonders if somewhere, far above, another sky-island floats, ravaging this land in its passing.
Skotonys -- his name actually means 'a storm of skoto', a fact Lauryn knew without correctly understanding what 'skoto' was; she'd thought skoto was a particularly hard rain or perhaps hail -- blinks at Lauryn. "Your land does not have skoto? We are into the Season of Storms now. There will be many more before it ends."
"My land is a storm, an island above the clouds," answers Lauryn, who lifts a finger to point skyward. "It brings storms; it does not have many itself." The woman takes a moment to study the warrior when he's distracted by his preperations, wondering if his name is complimentary, dark, or even possessing a negative connotation in the Laosian mindset. The devouring storm is certainly fearsome, of that she has no doubt, but it would destroy crops as well. Perhaps, like her, he is labeled a demon of a short. The idea makes her like him more.
The fox archon follows her gesture with his eyes. "It must be strange, to have fallen so far," he says, half to himself.
Lauryn chuckles at that. "I was never held so high," she assures the man.
The next day, the group reaches Theolisis. The entire party spends two days are at the Katharsi House. After the second day, Kyria Orevo, Afentis Pilis, Archon Skotonys, and (archon?) Ulifi leave for the Astikos, at the tyr's summons. Lauryn ... isn't summoned.
Before he leaves, Skotonys -- resplendent and somehow unlike himself in his finery -- tells her, "I will be back tonight. You must remain at Katharsi House another two days. Your emene must stay the full ten, of course."
"Of course," Lauryn replies in a neutral tone, although she understands very little as to why. She flirts with simply playing at understanding, but decides that the Archon is unlikely to use her ignorance against her, and knowledge is certainly power. "No, not of course. I should ask: is my remaining here due to my lesser station, or some other reason I am not yet aware? The emene as well, though her reason is hardly as nebulous."
The whiskers over the archon's left eye arch. "Laosian ways are not quite transparent to you, are they, Ria Lauryn?" He almost never calls her Ria Lauryn anymore: she has been Ria Vetyros for a long time. She suspects he is teasing her, though his deadpan Laosian expression remains hard to read. "It is not a matter of status. It is because you are foreign-born. Foreign-born must remain longer in the Katharsi house, because they need more time to acclimate to the city and before they are purified. All people need some time to become pure again after leaving the principality, and longer after leaving Laos Enosi. Foreigners are especially in need of purification. However, you are in service to the tyr and belong in Theolisis. Hence, you need only four days. Your emene is a foreigner and a stranger with no ties to Laosian land. She must stay for ten."
Lauryn returns the raised brow with one of her own, listening without further expression until she nods when the Archon finishes. "I see," she tells him, and she does. It makes sense in context. Or, at least, in the context of Laosians -- a peculiar people indeed. She bids the man farewell, wishing him luck on his meeting with the Tyr, before turning her attention to her surroundings -- and her emene slave.
For all that the Katharsi House is a 'prison' of sorts, it's a very nice house. In some ways it is as fine as the manor Lauryn grew up in. It is not as large nor as grand, but Katharsi House is clean and well-maintained, with fixtures and trim well-made if not overly elaborate, and furnishings comfortable if simple. The large bathing chamber is luxurious indeed, with its deep bathing pool and running water like nothing Lauryn saw on Rephidim. Other nobles might have had something so opulent and miraculous, but she never saw it.
Jturisk is keeping to herself, as usual. A merchant had a group of slaves here earlier, but they were moved out yesterday afternoon, and Jturisk has one of the small rooms to herself today.
The silence invites Lauryn to review all that has happened thusfar, and she finds herself studying the emene girl. She wonders what possessed her to intercede on behalf of -- and claim! -- the young woman. What did she hope to accomplish, and what will she do with her; Lauryn simply doesn't know. The very idea that she is in charge of another life seems both dubious and cruel, her own life having been considered of little quality, wrought with curses and danger. Was it mercy, she wonders. She realizes she is hardly a nutring figure, a protector -- she is more of disaster aligned against that which stands in the way of her allies. Was it revenge, perhaps a way to take someone like her own distant mother, and lift them away from an abusive master? A need to create a dedicated ally, even if she must enslave them to her? Lauryn shakes her head, and simply understands she doesn't know, and needs to lay down for a while. She'll worry about it another day.
Since the tyr had already seen all of the important people from the party, Lauryn can't really expect to see him herself. What would she have to add that Orevo or Skotonys could not have expressed better, in unaccented Laosian and with impeccable manners?
But two days later, Lauryn is summoned to an audience with the tyr after all. A private audience, unaccompanied by Archon Skotonys or anyone else.
The tyr is every bit as resplendent on this occasion as he was the first time Lauryn saw him. Today, he is garbed in the same mask, with its net of gold and diamonds covering long loose hair. The gloves and boots look similar, white and tooled with gold, but she doesn't remember them having been studded with amber and rubies last time. The overvest, shirt, and pants are different: dyed in reds and oranges, with velvet embroidered with more amber and rubies.
Not only did she come alone, but the sixteen guards she remembers from the first time have been reduced to just four. A cushion has been placed for her, eight feet before the throne. The presentation is the same ritual as before: the herald introduces her as "Ria Vetyros Lauryn, in service to dynatos tyr." The tyr bids her approach, and she genuflects at the proscribed distance. The pause, expected this time, seems dignified rather than overlong. Then the tyr gestures to her. "Rise. You may be seated."
And so Lauryn sits before her Tyr, mind active and ears body alert. Her thoughts race with possibilities, recounting discrepancies from her previous encounter with her Tyr even as it offers potential answers as to why the changes have occured. Most glaring is a simple lack of knowledge; she does not known Laosian court procedure anywhere well enough to hazard a guess as to why she is here, and why this time is different. She only knows it is. As such, she finds herself with little recourse but to wait and see what fate has in store for her.
Once she's seated, the black eyes of the tyr's golden mask dip to rest upon her figure. "I have been informed by Kyria Orevo of the results of the mission to the Yemenos, and your performance during it." As in her previous interview, the tyr uses the first and second-person in ways that would be perfectly normal in Rephidim Standard, and that seem so very odd in Laosian. "Now, you will tell me what you know. Begin with the interrogation of the Laosian the Yemenos captured, Rio Ifiro. Tell me what happened, and what he said."
"My Tyr, Rio Ifiro was one of several Laosians who were captured during the events surrounding our time at the emene city." Lauryn recounts their arrival, the night raid, the capture of the prisoners, and their efforts to speak with the emene command in an effort to prevent matters from devolving in to an open battle between the Tyr's envoy and the emene. "It was decided the prisoners would be interrogated, and that I would interrogate Rio Ifiro. Using words, isityros, and fear, I set upon Rio Ifiro's percieved weaknesses to wring answers from him. I used techniques I was later informed were improper, and I do not hide from this fact. My desire was only to succeed for you, my Tyr, but I see that the means are as important as the results. I have taken note of that. In the end, Rio Ifiro answered: he claimed to be an agent of Tyr Mesos, acting to, it would seem, undermine your accord with your emene allies, my Tyr."
"It is to your credit that you understand your error," the tyr answers. He sits almost motionless, his hands on the armrests of his elaborate serpent-throne. "Most prodotis never learn, or admit their wrongs if they do. Do you seek to atone for your wrongdoing, Lauryn?"
"Yes, my Tyr. I was prepared to do so since Archon Skotonys informed me of my mistake," answers Lauryn. The woman finds it telling the Tyr has chosen to focus on her error against Laosian culture than the threat of another Tyr's scheme, and she files that knowledge away to consider, as with so much, later.
A slight dip of the tyr's golden mask in acknowledgement. "Your atonement is thus: You will spend one tenday with my interrogators, that you will understand what appropriate interrogation techniques are. You will spend a second tenday in care of my prisoners, to make amends for your abuse of one. You will spend a third imprisoned, and a fourth interrogated, so that you will understand what it is that you do, when you imprison or interrogate. When your atonement is complete, you will be cleansed of your error and it will haunt you no more. Your atonement must be suspended for a time." He sounds almost ... apologetic? about that, if it could be imagined that a tyr could apologize. And over not punishing her? "I have need of your services in other matters at this time."
The woman can't help but tilt her head as her atonement is listed, finding the days ranging from informative to making her skin crawl. She does not see she has a choice, however, and so resigns to endure it as best she is able. Being imprisoned and tormented are the most daunting punishments in her mind, and she resolves to prepare for them lest her mind grow weak and her powers escape, to say nothing of the dread she has for being confined. After she has heard all that she must do, she nods. When she is further presented with the Tyr's need, she perks her ears forward to show she is well listening.
The pause lengthens, as the tyr were expecting something else from her. Lauryn has no idea what, though. She received an overview of court etiquette, but it obviously wasn't detailed enough to cover every contingency. At length, the tyr speaks again. "Do you believe Rio Ifiro's confession was an honest one?"
Lauryn cants her ears slightly as the silence persits, making an effort to, while unaware of what the Tyr desires of her, at least show him she is unaware and that she wishes to show it -- or at least that's how she hopes her gesture is percieved. When the Tyr finally speaks again, she finds herself relieved that the awkward silence has ended. "I believe Rio Ifiro believes he speaks the truth, and so my answer is a cautious yes. At the least, I believe further proof should be sought to further determine his truth, my Tyr," answers Lauryn after a moment of thought.
"Do you understand the seriousness of this accusation? Tyr Mesos, dynatos tyron of all Laos Enosi, is my brother, and I am his sworn servant, as you are my sworn servant. If dynatos tyron bid me war with the Yemenos, I would send all my forces to the battle. You tell me Rio Ifiro says thus: that my brother ordered him to create trouble with the Yemenos. That my brother incited the Yemenos to attack my lands and my people, unawares. That he would manipulate Notios to war with them." Emotion creeps into that strong, even voice: a hint of outrage, betrayal, incredulity that seems somehow more potent for being so subtle.
Lauryn's ears edge back as actual emotion creeps in to the Tyr's voice, as she has never heard him speak as such before. To even show emotion, in her mind, he must be sorely pressed indeed -- and it is no wonder. Lauryn can imagine how he must feel, even if her own appreciation of family loyalties is but a but a gutted candle light to the light of the Tyr's own. But, she is faced with his disbelief, and he has posed his question, and so she must answer. "They are Rio Ifiro's words, my Tyr, spoken nor created by none save himself. I do not see why he would Tyr Mesos to simply escape torment; naming a bandit lord or the emene would be far safer and more believable, were it a lie. Nor does the claim of Tyr Mesos endear him, it wins him no reprieve and, even if true, shows him a failed servant. Like my Tyr, I would prefer this answer be a lie: but I cannot fathom why it would be spoken otherwise, save that another power wishes my Tyr to be in conflict with his brother, Tyr Mesos," she answers, speaking w
... with all the somber tone the weighty matter demands.
Throughout, the tyr has maintained his pose and posture, that near-statue-like quality he holds. "That last is more plausible, and perhaps the case." His voice is even once more. "My diplomats have done well thus far. I approve of the secret truce Kyria Orevo obtained with the Yemenos, and I know of your part in securing it. I will investigate this allegation, but that must be done with great care. If this investigation were yours, Lauryn, where would you begin?"
Despite herself, Lauryn actually blinks, the question of what she would do taking her completely off guard. She is well aware she still remains a stranger to these people, unaware of many customs, alliances, and a multitude of other topics beside. "I would seek councilors who know Laos better than I, my Tyr, that I might understand better the situation we all are in. Secured with knowledge, I would seek skilled and loyal individuals to assist me, as I am too visible to investigate all that I would check upon. I would then review with my councilors, examine where such a foe might act next, and send my agents to await signs of sabotauge and deceit. If our foe desires war, my Tyr, and has not discovered our plan, then he or she will likely continue their efforts, and so I would be waiting for these omens," answers the sorceress.
Form her kneeling position, Lauryn can see the tyr's whiskers twitch beneath the mask, as if splaying like Skotonys's do when he's amused by something. "Indeed." He is silent again. This time Lauryn's sure she's not supposed to be saying anything; he's thinking.
The gesture does remind her of the Archon, but Lauryn keeps the reaction she might return the Archon from the Tyr's gaze, maintaining a neutral and alert expression. As she waits, the Tyr's reaction seems more and more familiar, until she decides it is a great deal like when she parted his company in the Katharsi House: the Tyr is amused by her admittance of her foreign ignorance, she decides. If it is pure amusement, self-superiority, or some other emotion, she cannot say. Even with Archon Skotonys she would not claim to know just why such a thing amuses him, and she is not about to guess with the Tyr. But, it is interesting -- another mystery to file away for later.
After a silence long enough that Lauryn almost wonders if the tyr has forgotten her, the tyr speaks again. "Do you still believe Rio Ulifi is a spy? Why?" The absence of the "archon" title is telling; Skotonys was right that the man's title was forfeit.
"I believe Rio Ulifi is either a spy or so shaken by my magics he forfitted his composure to exercise his own desires over that of his superiors, my Tyr. The truth of my excess is known; some fault of the matter may be mine, but from my experience an Archon seems to require composure and adherence to his superior's far greater than so many others. As such, I do not wish to dishonor Rio Ulifi further by claiming part in his failure. It is a complex matter." Lauryn frowns, tilting her head. It is a complex matter, one of honor, and of split responsibility that is difficult for her to resolve. After a moment of thought, she corrects, "I apologize, my Tyr. It is not for me to claim the burden of an Archon's dignity. That said, if Rio Ulifi did not break, then he may then be a spy: he acted counter to his superior's desires and nearly cost my Tyr the information gleaned from interrogation. If he is merely weak, or part of some greater scheme, I do not know. I would not risk it."
"Diabaino. You may begin your atonement now, Lauryn. Expect it to be suspended within the tenday. You will receive further instructions when the time comes." With that, the tyr dismisses her.
With her meeting complete, Lauryn withdraws in solemn ritual, as she had once before. She now faces the dauting trial of her attonement, but at least comforts herself somewhat in the knowledge she will be not only free, but perhaps gain some dignity in the eyes of Notios. The further burden of the potential plot against her Tyr also weighs on mind, though she cannot yet say what doom truly awaits Notios. So little, she thinks, is known -- knowledge truly is power.