Of Veils and Visions
Twenty Sixth Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
Hermetia Aerebalys had never been particularly tempted by a conjurer's arts in her time in the Scholarum. It was hard enough reading the desires of ordinary mortal people and making use of them in places they would not resent nor grow restless in, nevermind deathless spirits from beyond the borders of the world. But the vaerosiea of Tempest Isle was nothing if not curious, a fact that had lead her through the many strange sorrows and joys of her life and so when the king appeared in Lys without warning, as he was wont to do as far as his dominions stretched and beyond, she asked to see a binding.
Now here she was staring at a being that had not been in any of her books, if this Amala truly was one and not three joined in some eternal dance of flesh as it bargained over service to the Dragon King.
I'll have to ask Erisiel more about her sort, Hermetia noted. A faint chill ran down her spine, though there was no breeze in the room. Keeping company with devils and thinking nothing of it.
Do I seem as otherworldly to others as King Viserys does to me?
If she were being honest, the young vaerosiea had always thought of her time in Sorcerer's Deep and later in Lys as preparing herself for a grand adventure in foreign lands that she had once only dreamed of while running her fingers over the cracked parchment of old maps.
What if for some I am the strange and far off thing they glimpse only once in their lifetime? She wondered, again remembering the awed almost frightened looks she glimpsed in the eyes of provincial magisters come to ask some aid or judgement passed. She had always thought what they feared was the iron fist of the legion that had brought an end to Aedon's Folly...
"This law of yours protects gods and the sheep who mindlessly follow in their wake?" The fiend's leading question started Hermetia from her thoughts. "Why not dispense with the gods and keep all the wool, milk, and flesh for yourself?"
For a long moment the king was silent. "It is not that I do not have an answer, but that I have so many I do not know which to give first," he said at last. "I suppose the most important for you to hear is that I do not fancy myself a shepherd, having better things to do with my time and not wishing to bound by the role."
It took Hermetia a moment to pick apart the metaphor, not because she was at all slow in such tasks, but because the answer was so enormous that she could not believe he said it almost idly.
'Being a god would limit me.' I'm definitely not that strange, she thought, struggling to constrain a nervous giggle.
"Mortals are so enamored of their free will," Amala mused. "It never ceases to amaze me how they who have but two legs would walk six paths at once. Is it not better to refine oneself by that singular fire than burns in the depths of each soul?"
"Perhaps if one knew the end of all paths and could choose them from the start in full confidence of their end, but that would
require knowledge above the gods from the start of one's journey," King Viserys replied with an almost self-deprecating smile. "Better, I have found, to leave room to change, to grow and to decide along the path than to bind one's self to it like an ox to his furrow."
"Such a strange veil you see existence through, but one that has lead you far," the fiend allowed. "I will meditate upon this and the purpose of the rest of your laws as soon as I find a place fitting for the task."
"What exactly are you looking for, my lady?" Hermetia interjected, choosing to err on the side of more courtesy when it came to fiends of unknown nature.
"A place once raised to the fleeting glories of the divine, now desolate that one might hear the secrets in the silence," came the reply as one of the three faces turned to her in askance, as though surprised she had dared to speak.
Hermetia had encountered that expression more times than she could count. She would not be so lightly deterred. "Then perhaps somewhere on the Gilded Quarters? Even with reconstruction gaining ever more ground, there are still temples left abandoned, a few fallen into possession of the city due to unpaid taxes. If you are willing to take one of them off my hands I would sell it cheaply."
The head that had been adressing her nodded, a gleam of interest in its eyes. Then speaking through her right-most face, the fiend asked of the king: "And how much coin if my fealty worth for a beginning then?"
"Five thousand marks, for a beginning," he replied, a generous offer but one clearly not open to anymore haggling.
The fiend bowed as she accepted the small chest the king produced from the folds of his cloak. Hermetia could not say if the gesture was beautiful, disturbing, or both, but she did breathe a small sight of relief once she was gone.
"Do you have a parchment and quill?" the king asked unexpectedly, looking again far more like the boy she had first seen at the Feast of the Crossing years ago.
"I have better, you gave it to me, Your Grace," Hermetia replied as Inksnatcher her diminutive golden assistant flowed out over the desk in search of parchment.
"Excellent," he nodded. "Could you mark down a few divinatory answers? They are a bit difficult to remember when one is casting the spell and I think it is a good idea that I do it. Amala's kind are naturally veiled from foresight and farsight to a degree, which would make it difficult for the seers of the House of Mirrors to track."
Thankfully, the answers all showed that the fiend, whom the king named a sort of asura, had been truthful in all her words and did not intend treachery. Yet Lys still had plenty of troubles of its own.
"Will you be staying to help deal with the matter of the Goblin Market, Your Grace?" Hermetia asked, not a little tempted to join in on the investigation herself if he did.
[] Write in answer
OOC: The vote feels a little odd there at the end, but the alternative would have been to have a short update from Viserys' PoV that would have been basically all filler and retreading the same ground. The question here is not just yes or no to the investigation, but what to do next. Not yet edited.