1337Procrast
Fire Emblem Enjoyer
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Accept Maia's oath
Commit lmao
Commit lmao
The Last Daughter -- Dragon-Blooded Sorcery School Quest
- Thread starter Gazetteer
- Start date
- Fantasy
- Location
- BEHIND YOU, COMRADE!
[X] Accept Maia's oath.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
To be fair, it was totally on us to rush headlong into romance
Anyways, in for a penny, in for a pound.
[X] Accept Maia's oath.
- Pronouns
- Reader
Ehh, it's not like their was a "Keep your dalliances impersonal" voting option.
Unless we seriously fucked up, things were always going to escalate. Unfortunately we underestimated our ability to fuck up and have things escalate too fast.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I'm fine with it, it's poor Ambraea who's reaping the consequences
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
This is such a hard decision. Ultimately its just such a bad idea but it's so hard to say no.
[X] Reject Maia's oath
[X] Reject Maia's oath
[X] Reject Maia's oath
[X] Accept Maia's oath.
This is a horrible Idea that will blow up in our face, but I am here for the Drama.
This is a horrible Idea that will blow up in our face, but I am here for the Drama.
Man, this is hard.
There's a double-metagaming layer at work, too: on the one hand, there's what I think Ambraea would do based on what we've seen of her so far, versus what I think would make the story more interesting or test her character in new ways; on the other hand, there's all that based on where the story currently is, versus the knowledge that a bunch of factors currently looming large in her thinking are going to be enormously upended relatively soon.
If Ambraea were to form a hearth before graduation, or as an emergency measure in the wake of the Empress' disappearance, she has a few obvious candidates already: L'nessa, Sola, Amiti. There isn't actually an obviously more suitable candidate for a fifth spot than Maia, even discounting their romance. Hell, the other person she has the closest ties to is Deizil, who publicly has little socially to recommend him over Maia (I guess a cadet family is probably higher status than patricians, but the Simendor specifically are stigmatized). So it's not like accepting this oath closes off possibilities for a more legitimate or practical hearth we might cynically want to keep on the table. As far as others are concerned, it's the two lovebirds jumping the gun on something they reasonably might have all wanted in on anyway. (Of course, one of them might have wanted to be more cynical about things from their side, and being bound to a patrician as the price of being joined to the most junior Imperial daughter might be a poor bargain. L'nessa in particular might have qualms about Maia's status as a Peleps client.)
As pointed out, this is exactly the opposite of our mother's recommended approach, which means either we admit to her that we told Maia what we knew and Maia in turn blew her own cover and explicitly put her personal loyalty to us ahead of her loyalty to her family and the Empress... or we have to sell the idea that we made a bad decision against her guidance because we're young, dumb, and lovestruck. I think Ambraea could probably sell that, but doing so risks tapping into emotional reserves that might reveal more than we'd like. (I can easily imagine Ambraea responding to a comment about how she's usually so level headed but inevitably she'd make some foolish indiscretions by saying things she shouldn't about the things she's had to bottle up over the years.)
From a basic story construction angle, I think having Maia around, closer to us, and part of a new hearth which others might join is more likely to be fruitful through the next two years of pending crisis. It will generate obvious problems and story hooks, but it feels like a natural extension of the story so far. In an emotional and also nakedly political sense, it's a step towards independence - Ambraea putting her feelings ahead of her mother's guidance and will, and essentially taking an asset from her patron and incorporating it into her own power base. I can see our other friends being willing to join us sooner rather than later, especially when the shit hits the fan. On the other hand, if this exposes any fault lines in our relationships, that too will be juicy. So will having to manage what we tell the people close to us about what we both know that no one else should. Also, imagine Maia swearing all this and then getting orders to betray us in a way she feels she can't defy. Delicious. Om nom nom.
Rejecting Maia is likely to end the romance and friendship or make both extremely messed up in a way that might be fun to read (I do enjoy a twisted, brittle relationship based on very complexly mixed feelings) but maybe not for everyone (and might not be fun for Gazetteer to write). It would represent Ambraea closing off her heart and becoming colder and more guarded, which is an interesting personal arc but might be to the story's detriment, except that it might concurrently open up interactions with people outside the current circle, like Nalri, Deizil, Keric, or others we hardly pay any attention to. It might bring in people from outside the school, like potential suitors or opportunistic allies. It would presumably put a lot of strain on her other friendships, since it's hard to imagine them selling this as just a normal breakup, people will surely have the sense that something happened.
Yeah... I think I've persuaded myself that rejecting Maia to play it safe at the cost of her own feelings is probably the thing Ambraea would be most likely to do based on her past, but it's also the less interesting or rewarding way for her to break in this moment, so I'd rather see the surprising move that demonstrates and enables character growth.
Also, we're a snake witch. Biting off more than we can chew should be on brand for us, that's why jaws unhinge.
[X] Accept Maia's oath.
There's a double-metagaming layer at work, too: on the one hand, there's what I think Ambraea would do based on what we've seen of her so far, versus what I think would make the story more interesting or test her character in new ways; on the other hand, there's all that based on where the story currently is, versus the knowledge that a bunch of factors currently looming large in her thinking are going to be enormously upended relatively soon.
If Ambraea were to form a hearth before graduation, or as an emergency measure in the wake of the Empress' disappearance, she has a few obvious candidates already: L'nessa, Sola, Amiti. There isn't actually an obviously more suitable candidate for a fifth spot than Maia, even discounting their romance. Hell, the other person she has the closest ties to is Deizil, who publicly has little socially to recommend him over Maia (I guess a cadet family is probably higher status than patricians, but the Simendor specifically are stigmatized). So it's not like accepting this oath closes off possibilities for a more legitimate or practical hearth we might cynically want to keep on the table. As far as others are concerned, it's the two lovebirds jumping the gun on something they reasonably might have all wanted in on anyway. (Of course, one of them might have wanted to be more cynical about things from their side, and being bound to a patrician as the price of being joined to the most junior Imperial daughter might be a poor bargain. L'nessa in particular might have qualms about Maia's status as a Peleps client.)
As pointed out, this is exactly the opposite of our mother's recommended approach, which means either we admit to her that we told Maia what we knew and Maia in turn blew her own cover and explicitly put her personal loyalty to us ahead of her loyalty to her family and the Empress... or we have to sell the idea that we made a bad decision against her guidance because we're young, dumb, and lovestruck. I think Ambraea could probably sell that, but doing so risks tapping into emotional reserves that might reveal more than we'd like. (I can easily imagine Ambraea responding to a comment about how she's usually so level headed but inevitably she'd make some foolish indiscretions by saying things she shouldn't about the things she's had to bottle up over the years.)
From a basic story construction angle, I think having Maia around, closer to us, and part of a new hearth which others might join is more likely to be fruitful through the next two years of pending crisis. It will generate obvious problems and story hooks, but it feels like a natural extension of the story so far. In an emotional and also nakedly political sense, it's a step towards independence - Ambraea putting her feelings ahead of her mother's guidance and will, and essentially taking an asset from her patron and incorporating it into her own power base. I can see our other friends being willing to join us sooner rather than later, especially when the shit hits the fan. On the other hand, if this exposes any fault lines in our relationships, that too will be juicy. So will having to manage what we tell the people close to us about what we both know that no one else should. Also, imagine Maia swearing all this and then getting orders to betray us in a way she feels she can't defy. Delicious. Om nom nom.
Rejecting Maia is likely to end the romance and friendship or make both extremely messed up in a way that might be fun to read (I do enjoy a twisted, brittle relationship based on very complexly mixed feelings) but maybe not for everyone (and might not be fun for Gazetteer to write). It would represent Ambraea closing off her heart and becoming colder and more guarded, which is an interesting personal arc but might be to the story's detriment, except that it might concurrently open up interactions with people outside the current circle, like Nalri, Deizil, Keric, or others we hardly pay any attention to. It might bring in people from outside the school, like potential suitors or opportunistic allies. It would presumably put a lot of strain on her other friendships, since it's hard to imagine them selling this as just a normal breakup, people will surely have the sense that something happened.
Yeah... I think I've persuaded myself that rejecting Maia to play it safe at the cost of her own feelings is probably the thing Ambraea would be most likely to do based on her past, but it's also the less interesting or rewarding way for her to break in this moment, so I'd rather see the surprising move that demonstrates and enables character growth.
Also, we're a snake witch. Biting off more than we can chew should be on brand for us, that's why jaws unhinge.
[X] Accept Maia's oath.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Accept Maia's oath
I agree with most of the arguments on favour of accepting the oath on this thread and besides, it's the only way I see to keep any kind of meaningful relationship with Maia after a moment of vulnerability like this.
Yes, accepting is bad idea that will have many unintended messy consequences to deal with, but I think a quest about a young noble sorcerer bestowed with a spark of divine power is just too fitting for this kind of reckless, romantic decisions.
Also, the Realm is primed to explode in a few years and adherence to social norms is suddenly going to be worth much less than having people you can rely on through thick and thin.
I agree with most of the arguments on favour of accepting the oath on this thread and besides, it's the only way I see to keep any kind of meaningful relationship with Maia after a moment of vulnerability like this.
Yes, accepting is bad idea that will have many unintended messy consequences to deal with, but I think a quest about a young noble sorcerer bestowed with a spark of divine power is just too fitting for this kind of reckless, romantic decisions.
Also, the Realm is primed to explode in a few years and adherence to social norms is suddenly going to be worth much less than having people you can rely on through thick and thin.
Vote closed, Year 4 05
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Interlude 4: Necessity 01
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Accept Maia's oath: 40
Reject Maia's oath: 8
Reject Maia's oath: 8
For a few seconds, you stare down at Maia on her knees in the dirt, her heart bared to you, an almost hungry desperation in her eyes. She's offering you the most precious thing she has to give you, the only thing that she has to give you. The smart thing would be to say no, however much it hurts her, and you can see the knowledge of that on her face. She's terrified that you'll reject her, refuse her oath, push her aside. That some part of what she's just told you will be a bridge too far, and that you'll leave her because of it.
Where she's taken your hand in hers, you reach down and take it in both of yours, bringing it up to your lips to brush a kiss against her knuckles. Her relief is almost painfully sincere. Heedless of the thousand ways this is a terrible idea, not letting go of her hand, you recite words you've been learning variations of since primary school:
"I, Ambraea, swear to stand beside you, Iselsi Maia, as sworn kin. To defend you against all others. To keep faith with you ahead of all others. To be your pillar of strength, the solid Earth you walk upon, the bulwark against your enemies. By Pasiap, I swear. By Mela, Sextes Jylis, Hesiesh and Danaa'd, I swear. By Earth, by Air, by Wood, by Fire, by Water, I swear. On my honour as a Prince of the Earth and an Imperial daughter, I swear."
As you begin to speak your half of the oath, Maia's anima begins to flare around her, cold and dark and lethal. It washes over you without harm, and as you near the end, the white of your own radiates out from you to meet it. Your animas flow together, mingled Earth and Water, visual evidence of the spiritual link being formed. Even if you couldn't see this, you feel the moment when Maia's soul touches yours, your words knitting them together, for one moment fusing them together.
You freeze in place, looking into her eyes and seeing in them the same rush of elation that you're feeling. For this moment, all external worries fade away, and you're only able to bask in the closeness of it. Warmth. Safety. Home. You can barely tell where you end and she begins.
Then it starts to fade, the Hearth bond solidifying, the anima around both of you receding back to normal. But you can still feel her there, her soul knit to yours at the edges, a connection that will hold fast no matter how far you go from one another as long as you both live.
Still kneeling, Maia lays her head against your knee, and you move one hand from hers to gently stroke her hair. The other stays where it was, your fingers intertwined with Maia's. The two of you stay that way for long minutes, her head in your lap, your back against the trunk of the tree. A kinship of two.
Maia speaks first, her words small and tentative: "I love you." It shouldn't mean so much after what you just shared. It still does, though.
"I love you too," you say, "no matter who you are, or what you've done."
She lifts her head a little, just enough to see your face, not enough to disturb your hand in her hair. "You mean that?"
You bend down, planting a kiss against her forehead. "I've never meant anything more in my life." The words taste like something you might regret later, but you try to push that aside. Instead you just focus on the girl kneeling before you, on the sobs that wrack her small body as she buries her face back in your lap, and the hot tears you can feel seeping into your tunic. Verdigris finally reappears, slithering her way out of your sleeve, and looping herself gently around Maia's neck.
It will be a long time before you realise the true extent of what you've committed to, of what Maia is seeking respite from in your arms. Of the true horror of what exactly the Empress has made of Maia's family, and what she was trying to spare you from all along in her own inadequate, inscrutable way — not once yet have you heard any mention of a Vendetta. By the time you do, it will be too late to take anything back, and too late to forgive or condemn your mother for anything. The secret that should have broken you and Maia apart has already tied you together. Some decisions cannot be unmade, even if you wanted to.
Beginning very soon, the world will begin to take from you in ways that your life so far cannot prepare you for. For better or worse, though, Maia, you'll get to keep.
You do not, immediately, tell your classmates about this development in your relationship with Maia, by silent mutual agreement. As explaining the actual context of it is obviously completely out of the question, it is better to try and keep it quiet until things are at a point where it can be announced with less general loss of face. Amiti would certainly be delighted by you and Maia apparently swearing a kinship oath based on nothing but your overwhelming affection for one another, and it would make for incredibly juicy gossip in general — few others would respect you for it, however. You try to remind yourself that your mother told you to do what you would with the information she had gifted you, that she most likely won't read your failure to follow her advice as an insult. The weathervane quality of her approach to interpersonal relationships makes it unfortunately difficult to look upon this with a great deal of confidence, however.
There is little to be done about this prospect at the moment, however, and a certain joy that you can't help but find in your newfound closeness to Maia. Multiple times a day, even when you're otherwise busy doing something else, you find yourself reaching out to find her, your relative locations coming as easily to you as levitating a pebble. In a way, even though you're both going to be busy during the initial weeks of the academic break, it will feel less like being truly apart even when you're miles and miles away from one another.
On the very last day, you're running a minute or two behind your friends on the way down to the ship back to Chanos, having felt compelled to make an offering to Perfection before you leave the Isle of Voices for the next several months.
As you start down the path to the edge of the cliffs, you register a presence falling in beside you, her identity betrayed by the small, telltale chime as she draws close to Verdigris. You don't speak up, however, letting her be the one to address you first:
"Ambraea."
"Idelle," you say, glancing over at her. She looks much as she has since that misadventure back in the Spring — namely, frowning at you. "May I help you?"
"I just wanted a word before we leave," she says.
You give her a shallow, gracious nod, pausing at the head of the cliff path, off to the side so that the other stragglers can pass you both. "Well, you've found me."
"I want you to understand — I can't know exactly what happened back in that cave. But I have a long memory, Ambraea." She gives you a hard look.
You don't have to deliberately look down your nose at her; it's merely a function of your respective heights. There are a lot of ways you can respond to that; the accusation is veiled enough not to break propriety, even if you weren't in the relaxed social environment of the school, but it's obvious to you what she's trying to say.
So your reply is a bland: "Do you?"
Idelle's eyes narrow. She leans forward, ready to give you a no-doubt blistering retort, when a laugh carries through the air, and a hand claps down on Idelle's shoulder. She jerks away in surprise, but she's certainly not glaring at you anymore.
Simendor Deizil stands there, his smile as infuriating as ever, looking between the two of you , and the path you're neglecting to go down. "Oh, don't look so mad, Ledaal, her face just goes like that."
"I beg your pardon?" you ask, almost too shocked to be offended.
Deizil continues on, undeterred. "I don't think she means to look at you like you're a bug she can't be bothered to crush. Don't take it too personally."
Idelle takes in a deep, steadying breath. Without a word, she turns on her heel and stalks down the path toward the ship landing, posture stiff and angry.
"Still making friends, I see," Deizil says to you.
You regard him coolly. "Keeping them where they count, more to the point."
Deizil laughs, and moves past you. "You know," he says, "the problem always was, I couldn't help but like you."
You stare after him with a frown for a few seconds longer. What a truly intolerable man — and yet, it's still an improvement over last year, somehow. You give it a minute, and then follow the others down to the ship.
Descending Wood, Realm Year 762
One year, seven months before the disappearance of the Scarlet Empress
The Port of Chanos
Intelude 04: Necessity
"I swear, she's starting to repeat herself," you say, leaning back against the seat in the carriage, "if she's going to keep doing this, I hope that the veiled lectures at least cover new material."
Your carriage rolls through the streets of Chanos, carrying you back from a long and frustrating meal taken with the archimandrite of the local Immaculate mission. The incident with Perfection and the monk has not gone unnoticed, it would seem, and the consequences have taken the form of two invitations to dine with the prefecture's highest ranking monk.
Surprising no one, these ostensibly pleasant, otherwise acceptable social encounters have primarily been a delivery method for a series of allegorical points on the responsibilities that Dragon-Blooded have toward mortals, as well as the appropriate use of sorcery and spirit summoning. The worst part is, she's too important for you to turn down the invitations without giving slight.
"Not that I begrudge her concern, of course," you add, "Dragons know, Perfection could have been a little more discreet." You look out the window as you speak, watching the city's now-familiar narrow streets and stone towers roll past.
At the very least, you have seeing Maia again to look forward to, in the coming weeks; she's been busy being introduced to prospective marriage candidates. House Erona's middling status and her being a sorcerer are marks against her, but Dragon-Blooded are uncommon enough in the patriciate at large that she's still a reasonably desirable match in the eyes of many families. You anticipate similar preliminary meetings in your own future, arranged by your father. There will, of course, be a far more complex situation in your own eventual arrangements than in Maia's. An Imperial daughter's circumstances are not the typical ones for a Dynast.
"I'm sorry," you say, remembering yourself and looking at Peony fully for the first time in several minutes, "I shouldn't be complaining about your betters so much to you." It puts her in an awkward position, however private the circumstances may be.
To your surprise, Peony doesn't respond even to this direct apology — she's sitting still in her seat across from you, hands folded primly in her lap, eyes obediently downcast as per normal. Less normally, there's a fixed quality about her bearing, like she's distracted by something you haven't noticed.
"Peony?" you say. She doesn't respond. You raise your voice a hair. "Peony."
Peony practically leaps out of her skin, eyes wide with mortification. "I'm so sorry, my lady!' she says, "Please accept my most effusive apologies! It was not my intention to ignore you!"
You frown, concerned rather than angry, for all her worry. "It's not like you," you say. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"I—" Peony seems confused, "I haven't. I suppose that must be it, my lady. I thought..." she shakes her head. "Please forgive my negligence, I will attend to you more diligently in the future, as is my duty."
You know her too well to try and stress the personal nature of your concern — she always gets even more formal than usual when she's startled or embarrassed. "You always do," you say instead. It's true, and you think hearing it makes her relax at least a little.
Thoughts of Peony's brief distraction are soon driven from your head, however. No sooner do you return to the Imperial residence and step out of the carriage, then you're stopped short by the sight of one of the household servants in a state of poorly disguised agitation.
"Yes?" you say to the woman, stepping into the shadow of the manse. The sun is already hot overhead, and you'd been looking forward to getting inside out of the heat.
She bows low, not making eye contact as she speaks: "My lady. You have a guest."
You raise your eyebrows — you hadn't been expecting anyone. "Who is it?"
"A man, my lady — an Exalt. I do not know him, but he is here to see you," the servant says. "He won't come inside or let anyone else tend to his... mount. We offered, my lady!"
"What is his name?" You ask, trying not to exacerbate the servant's obvious distress at the thought of having seemed to leave a Dragon-Blooded guest outside in the stables.
"He says his name is Ophris Maharan Teran, my lady," the woman says. "I... do not know his family — he is well-dressed, but he has a foreign cast."
Well, that's a surprise. There are Ophrises on the Blessed Isle — a patrician house bearing the name in Arjuf, as you understand it. That house is made up of the descendants of the portion of the defunct Great House who had remained behind after the Ophris' and Burano's legions had gone rogue and carved out an Empire for themselves on the far Threshold. Maharan is a Prasadi jati name, however. Your father's jati, in fact, even if Ophris is not his clan.
You have no idea why a scion of one of Prasad's ruling Dragon Clans would be here looking for you, of course. It merits investigation. "Thank you for notifying me... Thrush," you say. Unfortunately, the name had to be supplied by Peony subtly mouthing it behind the servant woman's back. L'nessa has started to make a few choice comments about your failure to remember the names of servants you deal with on a regular basis but have no close relationship with. As you head to the stables, Thrush bowing low again behind you, L'nessa's voice comes almost audibly to mind 'It's a very unbecoming trait in a lady, Ambraea.'
The first thing you notice when you enter into the residence's large, well-kept stables is the distinct air of nervousness in the horses. The animals stamp and whicker, tossing their heads in a distinctly unhappy manner, and as you spot your guest, it's not hard to see why.
He's a surprisingly young man, several years your senior at most with the sort of willowy, athletic build you associate with the more daring of the heroes from Amiti's romance novels. His skin is slightly darker than yours, and when he looks up to see you, he has wide, inquisitive eyes and a smile that seems to seems to belong on his face more than any other expression. His Aspect isn't hard to guess — his curly, close-cropped hair is a bright orange and faintly incandescent.
You can see what's gotten the horses so unhappy: The animal he's been tending is obviously not a horse, although its confirmation is built along the same lines as one. It regards you with yellow, predatory eyes set in a leonine head, prominent sabre-teeth protruding from its mouth. In place of hooves it has paws, wicked looking talons protruding from shaggy, golden fur. You've seen a simhata before, legendary battle mounts that the lion-horses are, but never quite so close. The Prasadi — Teran — has a brush in one hand, having been using it to tend to the simhata's mane and fur, its saddle and bridle having already been removed and hung up, tasks that he evidently prefers not to trust to the servants. Looking at the beast's fangs and claws, you admit to yourself that, perhaps, he has good reason.
Teran sets his brush down, turning to face you fully, and bowing. "My lady," he says, speaking in thickly-accented High Realm, "I hope you will forgive our descending on you so suddenly. You are Ambraea, daughter of the Scarlet Empress?"
"I am," you agree, returning the bow with a gracious nod. "You are very far from home, aren't you?"
Teran smiles. "I am," he agrees, echoing you. "At great need, however. My name is Ophris Maharan Teran — I have journeyed here to the motherland with an urgent task to complete. My kinsman, Burano Maharan Nazat, indicated to me that I might avail upon his daughter for assistance."
"Did he?" You haven't received any message indicating this in the past several months.
Teran nods. "Yavis, the letter," He says. This inexplicable aside is explained as a young man shoots to his feet, where he'd been kneeling in your presence so quietly that you hadn't fully noticed him. He's mortal, perhaps sixteen, dressed in Prasadi garb similar to Teran's. The servant moves to the saddlebags hanging on the side of the simhata's stall, and begins looking through them. This draws your attention to the weapons there — an unstrung powerbow, gleaming dully in black wood and red jadesteel, and the curved edge of a forest green grimcleaver. Between the artifacts and the mount, Teran must have cut a particularly distinctive figure on his journey.
Yavis produces what looks like an unopened letter bearing your father's seal from the saddlebags. The boy approaches you, bows... And to your mild surprise, hands the letter to Peony. After a pause, she hands it to you with a subtle look in her eyes that only someone who knows her well would correctly read as bemusement.
"Thank you," you say, breaking the seal on the letter. The contents are a mix of the expected and the novel: Your father politely wishes you well and hopes you're successful in your academic endeavors, before explaining that the man bearing this letter is his cousin, and that he is compelled to offer assistance to another Maharan so far from home. He furthermore hopes that you, his only daughter and already a gifted sorcerer, will be willing to help Teran in Nazat's stead.
He adds a further warning that Teran's servant is Ophris Maharan Yavis, a Sage Caste Scion of Clan Ophris in his own right, and Teran's first cousin — it is improper in Prasad for a member of the lower castes to act as body servant to one of the Dragon Caste, and it is important that Yavis otherwise receive all courtesy due to a mortal cadet house Dynast.
There is also a longer correspondence of a more mundane variety, although that's always interesting in its own right. You intend to give it a more thorough read later — your eyes briefly light on the words potential marriage candidates before you tear yourself away to look back at Teran. "Well, that isn't particularly ambiguous," you say. You hand the letter back to Peony, who you trust to put it away for when you have a moment to go over it in detail. "Peony, please make sure that we have accommodations prepared for Lords Teran and Yavis, suitable for two Dynasts who have traveled a very long way."
Peony only gives a blink of surprise at this, having evidently taken Yavis for a servant of similar status to herself, before bowing. "It will be done, my lady."
Teran watches her go, a slight frown creasing his face. He seems to be on the verge of asking you something, but seems to think better of it. "Your hospitality is appreciated, my lady," he says.
"The house belongs to our Empress," you say, choosing your words carefully, "but I have been permitted to exercise such rights, within reason." As ever with your mother, there are no hard lines to show you the limits of this privilege; it is up to you to intuit when you would be crossing them, and to suffer the consequences should you fail to do so.
You glance around at your surroundings, taking in the stable. "If you would like," you say, "we could discuss the particulars of your request under more pleasant circumstances, after you've had a chance to tend to your mount and refresh yourself after the road."
"It would be appreciated, thank you," Teran says.
This will also give you a chance to do the same, albeit from your own much briefer journey across the city. It's not the kind of conversation you want to have without a chance to have your hair fixed first.
Some hours later, you sit across a table from Ophris Maharan Teran, trying not to feel too awkward about the meal arrangements.
Through a combination of Teran being willing to be flexible as a stranger to the Realm proper, and you wanting to be accommodating toward a man following your father's faith, you've worked out how you might serve him a meal acceptably. There are, apparently, protocols for such things; ritual purity must meet real world conditions, after all.
What this ends up looking like, however, is Yavis being provided the prepared ingredients, carefully selected for their suitability, by the very confused staff. Yavis does the majority of the work, and serves the meal to Teran with each dish incomplete in some way — noodles not added to broth, sauce missing from poultry, and so on. In this way, he can be said to have prepared the meals himself.
For some reason, it makes you very conscious of the fact that you were simply brought your food by one of the household servants, putting off eating it until after Teran had completed his work.
"The food is quite good here too," Teran says, after sampling several dishes. "The Blessed Isle is much larger than maps make it look! I keep being surprised by the variety."
You smile graciously, relieved that he isn't making such a naive comment in front of more judgemental Dynasts than yourself. "What route did you come by?" you ask.
"We set out from Kamthahar and traveled Northwest along the Jade Road through the Summer Mountains, then Northeast through the Fallen-Star Lakes until we reached Jiara. From there, a ship to Gloam, and another to your Imperial City," Teran says this matter of factly, laying out a truly heroic journey for such a small group that you can only assume he's deliberately downplaying its difficulty. "From there, we traveled up the Imperial River, and over land through the mountains to arrive here. By far the most pleasant leg of our journey, since leaving fair Prasad."
"That must have taken many months," you say, still charting out the route in your head.
"Just so," Teran agrees, "but a man must be willing to undertake such hardships for his Hearth."
You look at him with some interest, taking a slow sip of tea. You can't help but instinctively reach out to your link with Maia, sensing her miles away in a prefecture to the east. "What does your Hearth require that sends you here, with only the company of your cousin and a simhata?"
Teran looks a little chagrined, all at once. "Well," he admits, "I admit, I have not been permitted to swear the oath yet."
"I'm not sure I understand," you say.
"The Hearth of the Peerless Garden is half a century old, and its deeds are famous," Teran says. Then he says something in highly colloquial Prasadi High Realm, a term that you can't quite penetrate, to your slight embarrassment. A Hearth renewed by heroism? That seems overly literal, and unlikely to be the whole story. Evidently, you don't hide your incomprehension well enough, because he continues to explain: "Twenty-two years ago, one of their number, Burano Nermaia Sylva, died in defence of a city of thousands. For the past five, his surviving Hearthmates have been searching throughout Prasad for his reincarnation. The signs point to me." Experimentally, he takes a sip of tea — a green Tengese blend — and noticeably brightens at its pleasant, grassy flavour.
"I... See." That makes slightly more sense. The Pure Way puts a much greater emphasis on material divinity than Immaculate orthodoxy does — Dragon-Blooded as gods in human flesh, sometimes outright ascending to spiritual godhood upon death, or reincarnating endlessly alongside their hearthmates. You have read references to the concept, as much as you didn't expect it to be particularly relevant to your life. "And they... require you to come to the Blessed Isle before they'll let you join?"
"I have completed tasks set by three of my once-and-future Hearthmates already," Teran explains, obviously pleased that you're following him now. "Meant to demonstrate my skill and bravery, and show without a shadow of a doubt that I am their friend come again. The fourth and and most arduous was set by the Hearth's leader, Akatha Junam Sarva."
Clan Akatha is the enigmatic third Dragon Clan, descended from Prasad's original ruling god-blooded, long since intermarried with the Dragon-Blooded of Burano and Ophris. You understand that they have a strange familial structure that includes Prasad's two major pantheons of deities, and are so heretical and marginal to worldly concerns that the Realm does not even acknowledge them as a cadet house.
Teran goes on: "Long ago, her divine mother, the goddess Precious Sheltered Orchid, lent a priceless heirloom to a lesser god. Calamity and time has separated them, however, and he has proven unwilling to either journey to Prasad and give it back to her, or to arrange to have it sent. So! You see my task. I am here to retrieve the Mirror of Necessity, at long last."
You do, see, although it's all incredibly Prasadi in a way you don't think you could have explained to most other Dynasts in a hurry. "And my father thought that I could be of use to you in accomplishing this?" you ask.
"He did, my lady," Teran says. "I know that the rogue god I seek dwells in the northern Blessed Isle, not so far from here, but my ignorance of these lands, their customs, and the state of the spiritual gods here are a barrier. I am also to understand that you are a sorcerer of some skill." His eyes fall on Verdigris for almost the first time, having been deliberately ignoring her. Your snake is coiled up on your side of the table, drinking from her own teacup with delicate flicks of her forked tongue.
"He didn't lie to you," you say.
"Such things are useful when treating with spirits," Teran says. "I understand, my lady, that I arrive on your doorstep with a significant request. But I have few others to turn to in this matter." He bows his head. "I would be greatly in your debt for any aid you could offer."
"Well," you say, refilling your teacup, "I have weeks to spare, at least, and I am not one to refuse a reasonable request from my father's kin."
Teran smiles widely, showing relief and excitement in equal measure. "Ah, good! Thank you. I promise you, lady Ambraea, if nothing else, it will be a fine adventure."
Article: Maia's family commitments will let up in time for her to assist Ambraea in assisting Teran, but most of Ambraea's other friends will be busy with similar matters to those that kept Maia away. One of them is available, however — who is it? You may vote for as many options as you like, but only the one with the most votes will win.
Earth Aspect Dragon-Blood
Ambraea is a talented sorcerer focused on elemental summoning and elementally-resonant spells. She's also a trained swordswoman with enhanced senses and superhuman strength and durability.
Sorcery:
Initiation level: Emerald Circle
Initiation: Pact with an Earth Dragon
Shaping rituals: A gift of gems (wealth sacrificing ritual)
Spells: Plague of Bronze Serpents (control spell), Summon Elemental, Breath of Wretched Stone
Water Aspect Dragon-Blood
Maia is trained in stealth, brutal combat, and assassination, and her studies of sorcery have only expanded those abilities. She can shape illusions of herself and others, and summon a lethal sorcerous weapon from her own blood.
Sorcery:
Initiation level: Emerald Circle
Initiation: Student of the Heptagram
Shaping rituals: Sorcerous Archives (ritual research and study)
Spells: Sculpted Seafoam Eidolon (control spell), Blood Lash, Demon of the First Circle
Fire Aspect Dragon-Blood
An adventurous young man from distant Prasad, Teran has made the arduous journey to the Blessed Isle to complete a quest of grave import. He is both gallant and daring as befits a son of his Clan, but finds many aspects of Realm society foreign and confusing at best. He travels with his familiar, the fierce simhata named Talent, and wields the artifact weapons Ash Rain and Edge of Spring. He is skilled at tracking, navigation and wilderness survival, mounted and unmounted combat, as well as the handling of large animals in general.
[ ] Amiti
- Results in closer ties to House Sesus, in the form of favours owed
- Amiti's family is greatly respected and feared in Chanos Prefecture and its surrounding Prefectures, and her name will open doors both mundane and supernatural
- Amiti is unfailingly herself; her predilections will disturb Teran and cause problems for you along the way
Air Aspect Dragon-Blood
Amiti's morbid preoccupations have translated to an intense focus on necromancy, the death, and related subjects, as well as esoterica about Essence manipulation and other arcane subjects. She is not particularly physically inclined, and mortifying in social situations.
Necromancy:
Initiation level: Ivory Circle
Initiation: Half-Souled
Shaping rituals: Soul-Forged Token (draw on soulsteel pendant to focus necromantic power)
Spells: Raise the Skeletal Horde (control spell), Summon Ghost, Flesh-Sloughing Wave
[ ] Sola
- Results in closer ties to House Tepet
- Sola's spells will speed the journey, in addition to her sword arm always being useful. Teran will respect her as a warrior
- Sola's family is in the midst of mustering out its legions upon Imperial decree; Sola is distracted and impulsive at being left behind, which will cause problems
Air Aspect Dragon-Blood
The ancient daiklave, Storm's Eye, allows Sola to synergise her gift for swordfighting directly with her sorcery. Even at her age, she is already deadly with a weapon in her hand and studied in tactics, and has made fast progress at marrying her talents over the past few years. Her sorcery takes on a more logistical bent, but her combat prowess more than makes up for it under these circumstances.
Sorcery:
Initiation level: Emerald Circle
Initiation: Blade of Ten-Thousand Eyes
Shaping rituals: Inner Storm (focus inner eye to flood the body with sorcerous power)
Spells: Beckoning That Which Stirs the Sky (control spell), Stormwind Rider
[ ] L'nessa
- Results in closer ties to House V'neef in the form of favours owed
- L'nessa's way with words and familial connections come in very useful, and she is entirely capable of leveraging these advantages to overcome the Realm's ordinary stigma against sorcerers
- She and Teran get along... too well, and it's a little annoying — unlike you and Maia, who are very discreet and easy to travel with, you're sure
Wood Aspect Dragon-Blood
L'nessa is already a competent sorcerer for her age, although her focus is on useful, support oriented spells. She's a gifted socialite when given the chance, a trained medic, and a competent archer by Exalted standards — extraordinary by mortal ones.
Sorcery:
Initiation level: Emerald Circle
Initiation: Student of the Heptagram
Shaping rituals: Sevenfold Art Evocation (precisely memorised mudras and equations to open the mind)
Spells: Infallible Messenger (control spell), Food From the Aerial Table
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[X] L'nessa
I'd like to see more of her.
I'd like to see more of her.
[X] L'nessa
She feels like the best match of skill set, and the least troubling drawbacks. Her personality will also balance the group out nicely, and the shipping will be funny. It might also be just plain useful, if it deflects any question of Teran pursuing us (or, if he is a good marriage candidate, neatly sidesteps the expectation that we'll be romantically interested).
It's interesting seeing a Hearth treated like a Celestial Circle. I wonder if they can actually tell whether Teran is legitimately so-and-so's reincarnation, or if this is a false notion in character.
She feels like the best match of skill set, and the least troubling drawbacks. Her personality will also balance the group out nicely, and the shipping will be funny. It might also be just plain useful, if it deflects any question of Teran pursuing us (or, if he is a good marriage candidate, neatly sidesteps the expectation that we'll be romantically interested).
It's interesting seeing a Hearth treated like a Celestial Circle. I wonder if they can actually tell whether Teran is legitimately so-and-so's reincarnation, or if this is a false notion in character.
Oh no he's hot
- Pronouns
- Reader
Going to keep my eye on the prize of being close enough to our friends to incorporate them into the Hearth Oath-
-and Sola has the lowest bond of Ambraea's friends. Hopefully this trip will raise it, though I'm fine with any of them winning.
[X] Sola