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The Last Daughter -- Dragon-Blooded Sorcery School Quest

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Year 5: Hard Lessons 05
  • Threadmarks
    • Announce your status as Maia's sworn kin, lie to protect her: 24

    Attempt to keep the secret for at least another year, stay out of it: 19

    The office takes up most of a full tower level, large windows along the curved outer walls providing a commanding prospect of the surrounding island as well as the slate grey sky above. The remaining walls are covered by bookshelves laden with the dominie's private collection. Tables holding complex sorcerous instruments, meticulously detailed maps and models, and enclosures for small, exotic beasts take up much of the floor space. You yourself sit in a handsome mahogany chair placed in front of a vast and imposing desk carved of the same wood.

    "We try to maintain a hands off approach, relative to the other great schools," says the man sitting behind the desk. "The pursuit of sorcerous knowledge is not best undertaken while under smothering attentions, however well intended. You understand all this by now, I would hope."

    "Dominie?" you ask, pretending not to know where he's going with this. You haven't had a great deal of personal contact with the dominie in your five years at the Heptagram. He's famously reclusive, of course, only offering personal tutoring to those particularly noteworthy students who catch his eye.There's a tiny part of you that has always been mildly affronted at apparently not qualifying.

    "Still, there are times where the scholarly freedom we allow is abused." As he speaks to you, he holds an ornate brush in one hand, slowly twirling it in his fingers. Ragara Bhagwei, founder of the Heptagram, and one of the eldest sons of your eldest living sibling. You've never had the dubious pleasure of meeting Ragara himself in person, but Bhagwei does bear a passing resemblance to his father's likeness in portraits. His green eyes are remarkably cool for a Wood Aspect, evoking a tranquil forest more than vibrant greenery. His entire bearing reminds you of nothing so much as an old, solid oak: strong, deep-rooted, bending as it must, but no further. "You and Peleps Nalri were not friends, I understand, but one would hope that you would agree her death was a tragedy."

    "I hope you aren't accusing me of anything too serious sir," you say, voice level.

    "So far, only of callousness," he says, still calmly studying your impassive face. "You were seen by numerous students and several members of staff during the time when Peleps Nalri met with her accident. It couldn't be any clearer that you played no personal part in her death if it had been planned to deliberately absolve you of suspicion."

    Which, of course, it had been. "I'm not sure why you're telling me this then, sir," you say, raising your eyebrows.

    Bhagwei stops spinning his brush, setting it down on the desk in front of him. "Peleps Nalri was a Wood Aspect," he says, "but techniques for traveling and defending herself underwater and at sea were at the heart of her sorcery — by all appearances, she was nonetheless overcome in the water. The misfortunate that befell her would have had to possess both combatant prowess as well as the capacity to best her in that environment."

    "I suppose that's true, sir." You're sure he knows that you know what he's driving at, but you're determined not to help him in arriving at it, or to lend his entirely accurate suspicions any credibility by acknowledging them. Instead, you spend the brief time you have left steeling your resolve for what you know will soon be necessary.

    "There are entities that could have accomplished the deed, of course," Bhagwei says, "but, unfortunately, the most likely culprit would be a Water Aspect. There are only so many of those on the Isle of Voices, and fewer still who have the martial skill to have bested Peleps Nalri. I believe you're well acquainted with one of them."

    "I think you'll find," you say, "that Erona Maia was seen in company with me during that time."

    "There are fewer still who have made such a prestigious study of illusion magic as your young friend," Bhagwei says. "Or who have as a clear a motive as she does, in the form of objections to Peleps Nalri's treatment of you. If you did know anything that could cast light on this matter, I'm sure that you yourself will not be found to have done anything worthy of punishment." At this last, you finally observe his lip twitch in something close to distaste.

    It's not hard evidence. You doubt the dominie would be here pressing you for details if he had that already. Maia has been reckless, but you're uncomfortably aware that she must be able to cover her tracks better than that, at least. Just the suspicion is dangerous enough to make you sick in the pit of your stomach, however. The branch of House Peleps that Nalri belonged to is not the same one that Maia is destined to spend years in service to, but Nalri's admiral mother could certainly make Maia's life miserable, if she so chose. At very worst, if Peleps finds an excuse to find Maia or her house to be in breach of their agreement, they're ultimately the ones who are paying for her to be at the Heptagram at all.

    You dearly wish that Maia hadn't done this, that you'd made yourself clearer to her, taken closer heed of the warning signs, or even just taken less drastic action against Nalri before Maia had reached her breaking point. Still, what happened happened, and here you all are.

    "I can vouch for her whereabouts," you say.

    "You have a foolproof method of detecting when it's her beside you, and when it's a Seafoam Eidolon?" Bhagwei asks, frowning.

    "Yes," you say. You give yourself the briefest of pauses before you plunge ahead with words you can never take back: "Erona Maia is my Sworn Kin. It would take a great deal more than simple Emerald Circle sorcery to prevent me from being certain of her location whenever I wished."

    Bhagwei studies you, betraying no trace of his inner thoughts. "Is she really?"

    "Do you doubt my word, Domine?" You ask.

    Bhagwei gives you an exceptionally weary look. When he responds, his voice remains calm, conversational. "On the contrary, I harbour exceptionally few doubts about this situation. I make it a point to never underestimate my father's siblings -- I have met too many of you, as much as I wish it were otherwise."

    The response you'd been formulating to the first half of his sentence dies in the back of your throat. You give him a faintly astonished look. "I beg your pardon?"

    "If I wanted to waste my time with the intrigues and petty deceptions of the Great Houses, I would not be here, dedicating my life to my work and the fostering of young minds. You can't help but carry it with you, even worse than the others." He straightens the brush resting on his desk with an idle motion, correcting a minute misalignment you hadn't noticed.

    "Should I feel insulted?" you ask. The question is genuine -- this exchange has left you entirely unmoored.

    He dismisses the question with a slight shake of his head. "A statement of fact is not an insult. I mean exactly what I say."

    You sit in stunned silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. You have accomplished what you set out to do, but of all reactions, this wasn't what you expected. "Is that all, Domine?"

    "If this is truly all you have to say on the matter, then yes," Bhagwei says. He sighs, glancing out the window. "Peleps Nalri was a gifted student. She might have been more of one, if she'd been willing to set aside petty familial grudges to focus on the work. But this is far from the first such time that such outside conflicts have invaded my school. And it will not be the last, I'm sure." When he turns back to you, for the first time, his eyes have a hard, sharp look. "It is simply a consequence of having to educate Dynasts. But, I trust that we will never have to have this conversation again during your time here, Ambraea, or there may be consequences you dislike. Am I understood?"

    "... Perfectly, Dominie," you say, resisting the urge to flinch back from his expression.

    He waves a hand toward the door behind you. "You may go."

    You don't stop to resent his high-handed dismissal — you take the opportunity for what it is, and leave.


    It's still a strange place for a romantic rendezvous. Fortunately, you're not feeling all that romantic, this time.

    As you step under the shade of the Black Elder Tree, you feel her presence before you see her. "Well, it's done," you say.

    "What's done?" Maia asks from overhead. She's almost lounging in the tree's branches, like a leopard lying in wait. Her face is nothing but concern, however, and you see her hesitate against dropping down to close the distance between you. Your recent argument hangs in the air between you, invisible but almost tangible. "What did he want?"

    "He suspected that you had killed Nalri on my behalf, and was trying to see if I'd say so and sell you out to spare myself the censure." You can read between the lines. Ragara Bhagwei might prefer to cast himself as apolitical, but he's still a Dynast and the child of the only Imperial Son to be granted his own Great House.

    Maia eyes you with apprehension, slowly pushing herself up to a sitting position on her branch. "What did you tell him?" You're not sure what answer she's dreading most.

    You close your eyes, letting out a weary sigh. "That I am Sworn Kin to you, and that I can give my word that you were nowhere near the place where Nalri met her end."

    Verdigris pokes her head up from your collar, her bronze-wire tongue flickering concernedly against your cheek. You can tell that she's casting her eyes between you and Maia.

    "You what?" You can hear the expression of horror from the change in her voice. A second later, there's a barely noticeable crunch of dirt as she drops lightly to the ground in front of you.

    You open your eyes, but continue to avoid her gaze, studying the sky overhead. "You're an intelligent woman, Maia. Do me the credit of not pretending otherwise." Your mother's words emerge from your mouth with less of her arch confidence, and rather more brittle frustration than you'd meant. You regret them immediately, but can't very well unsay them.

    "You weren't supposed to do that!" Maia hisses, "it was supposed to just be me. My choice, my kill, my consequences!"

    "I didn't ask any of this of you," you remind her. "My wishes were never consulted."

    "That was the point!" Maia says, a desperate edge creeping into her voice. "Your enemy is gone, and no one could have said you had anything to do with it. At worst, it would have just been me! You know what I'm meant to be used for, Ambraea!"

    Some final thread of restraint gives way in your chest, and you turn on her, almost glaring into Maia's wide, bewildered eyes. The sight of her looking so vulnerable makes you want to take her into your arms, even as you also just want to shake her. You find a compromise.

    You step forward, reaching out to take her face in your hands, tilting her eyes up directly toward yours. "Listen to me." You lean in close, speaking so quietly that no one else could ever hope to overhear, even if it weren't just the two of you in this lonely, cursed place. Nonetheless, you can tell that you've startled her. "Listen to me. I am not your family. I am not my mother. You are not a weapon to me, you are the woman I love. If you throw yourself away by being reckless and stupid, it is not only you who gets hurt. Do you understand me, you absurd woman? You absurd, beautiful, stupid woman? 'To defend you against all others. To keep faith with you ahead of all others.' I swore an oath as well, Maia!"

    Maia is visibly too overcome to speak. She stares at you for long enough that you begin to worry that only your anger reached her, rather than the true meaning of your words. Then, at the end of that small eternity, she slumps into you. "... I'm sorry."

    The worst of the anger goes out of you, and you pull her close. "Next time, we talk about this. Properly. We don't make decisions for each other behind one another's back. Whatever happens, we're in this together. Can you promise me that, if I promise the same?" Your hand goes up into her impossibly dark hair, cradling her head against your chest.

    You feel Maia nod, as Verdigris slithers down your arm to twine around it and Maia's neck both. "... I promise."

    "Good," you say. Then you lean down and kiss the crown of her head.


    Due to the nature of your admission to the dominie, the entire staff knows what you are to Maia within the hour. Naturally, by noon, all several dozen students know as well.

    "When exactly did this happen?" Sola asks, looking between you and Maia incredulously.

    You exchange a glance with Maia before replying. "Since the end of year four."

    It's impossible to ignore Amiti — she's not even pretending to continue salvaging the contents of her rescued notebook. Instead, she's looking at you and Maia with hearts very nearly visibly dancing in her eyes. "That soon after you fell in love? It's like something out of a story!"

    "It is... a little like something out of a story," you allow.

    Sola laughs in disbelief, leaning back against her favourite patch of wall. "Well," she says, "good luck with that. Mela, Ambraea — I actually used to think you were practical."

    "I will choose to ignore that remark," you say, laying your books carefully out on the floor and settling yourself down beside them. Maia drops down beside you, her own work cradled in her arms. You're in your favourite work room, all ostensibly working on different pieces of research. The semi-privacy of the familiar stone walls is reassuring, even if it's a little cramped.

    "I'm a little surprised you let on so soon," L'nessa says. "I thought I'd have at least another year to decide whether or not to pretend I hadn't noticed, by the time you actually got around to telling me." Sure enough, there isn't much shock on her face, just a sort of almost weary exasperation for the two of you.

    "How long have you known?" you ask, heart sinking. How obvious had you been?

    "Since the summer," L'nessa says. "You keep not being surprised when she creeps into the room the way she does. I've lived with the two of you for going on five years, a quarter of our lives; obviously I'm going to notice that kind of change. The significant glances have gotten a little unbearable."

    You, having been in the process of seeking Maia's eyes, abruptly glance away. "Well, we must apologise for your inconvenience."

    Apology accepted," L'nessa says, deliberately ignoring your sarcasm. Her tone turns serious, though. "I hope you know what you're doing — Peleps may look on this as you poaching their investment, Ambraea. And that's without considering..."

    She doesn't need to say 'Nalri'; you all fill in the missing word silently. Amiti gives an awkward sort of frown. Sola and L'nessa aren't looking directly at Maia. None of them can prove anything — doubtless they don't want to — but they know you both well enough by now to be able to guess. Of the latter two, Sola seems considerably more concerned about the moral dimension than L'nessa is. Somehow, you're not surprised.

    "No one has anything actionable to complain of us about," you say.

    "That doesn't mean it won't rankle," L'nessa says, "and there's no accounting for her immediate family. This isn't the first time you've made Peleps lose face, and your association with my family won't help matters."

    "Consequences have a way of catching up eventually," Sola says, giving you a look. "However slippery one is about things."

    Noting her continued silence and discomfort, you move slightly closer to Maia. "You have the most flattering way of describing me," you say.

    Sola manages a smile of amusement. It's only a small one.

    "Regardless," L'nessa says, "you'll need to consider where your allies are going to come from. Things are getting serious, and you can't rely on only the Empress's largesse forever."

    You know that this is far from an idle comment, and what L'nessa would prefer to choose. That doesn't mean she's wrong, however. "I suppose I can't," you say.


    "Does that make you nervous at all?"

    You look up from your diagrams, casting the speaker a cool glance. "I'm not sure what you mean," you lie.

    Simendor Deizil laughs. He always seems to do that when you're not trying to be funny.

    "You're standing in my light," you tell him.

    You're sitting on a bench in the school courtyard, a large, blank notebook page held open beside you by Verdigris' weight. The snake is stretched out as straight as she can on the bench, holding perfectly still to allow you to more accurately sketch her with charcoal. Amiti has been giving you pointers, but you're still not quite so deft a hand at drawing as she is.

    It's not so bad a day; the usual cloud and fog are present, but in lighter quantities than usual, letting thin, pale sunlight down to you. It's not altogether unpleasant, and you're taking advantage of it during the scant hour you have between your noonday meal and a series of exceptionally dreary maintenance rituals. They're part of your punishment for the incident with Hylo, and unfortunately they'll keep you busy until dinnertime. You haven't been this desperately busy since your first year.

    Deizil has sidled up to you in the middle of drawing up your reference sketches, his shadow falling over your drawing. "Sorry, sorry!" he says, hands half raised in mock surrender. "And I mean them."

    Across the courtyard, Cathak Garel Hylo stands in hushed conversation with Ledaal Anay Idelle, their expressions both serious as always. As if sensing your watching Hylo glances in your direction, pushes his glasses up his nose, and frowns. Then he turns back to consulting with Idelle. "What about them should make me nervous, exactly?"

    Deizil smiles. "Well, two temperaments that seem like they should be bad in combination. But that's Fire Aspects for you, right? I guess you know how to deal with people who don't like you, though."

    "Are you going somewhere with this?" you ask, determinedly not reacting.

    Deizil shrugs. "I know my family's reputation. It's pretty fair, mostly — Chalan is a nest of sorcerous vipers. No offence." He directs this last to Verdigris, who gives a soft, inscrutable hiss in response. "Sorcerer-princes, we go after each other hard. Public humiliation, undermining each others' work, subtle curses. Unsubtle curses. Attacking their favourite slaves and servants through deniable proxies. Our rivals' loss is our gain, you know? And it goes too far every once in a while, sure. There are fatal duels and assassinations, sometimes. But that's rare — we usually know where the line is, and stay on the right side of it. We're not a large house, you know? We don't kill each other."

    You set down your charcoal. "Are you accusing me of something, Simendor?"

    "Oh, I'm sure you didn't kill anyone either," he says. You don't like his tone, but you never have for as long as you've known him. "I'm just reflecting on how glad I am not to have stayed entirely on your bad side." You see a flash of something like discomfort go over his face, soon disguised again.

    "Despite your best efforts," you say.

    Deizil shrugs. "Well, I guess things are more different here from home than I thought they would be. They did warn me, you know." He smiles again, a little less sincerely. "Good luck, Ambraea. With your drawings, and everything else."

    As he leaves, you force yourself not to visibly frown. There's something deeply unsettling about the feeling that you're being morally judged by Simendor Deizil, of all people.

    You find yourself looking toward the summer with a mix of anticipation and dread. Leaving the Isle of Voices for a few months would do you good, at this point. All the same, people will have opinions on your recent decision, some of whom you will not be able to ignore.


    Article:
    Once again, you find yourself summoned to the Imperial Palace; among other things, your father has made good on his promise to consult with the Empress about potential marriage matches for you, and a series of preliminary meetings in relatively casual contexts await you in the capital.

    You will also receive a surprise, however, something given to you in celebration of your recent twentieth birthday, and completion of your fifth year at secondary school, five being that most auspicious number.

    Along with several other substantial gifts intended to help you in establishing a household, which are contingent upon your graduation in two years' time, you are being presented with an heirloom daiklave. What is its nature?

    [ ] The Tidal Fang

    Materials: Black jade, the fang of a lesser elemental dragon of Water

    Themes: Water. Spirits, ebb and flow, teeth

    Provenance: A Shogunate-era weapon, originally repaired and reforged during your mother's reign to honour a different Imperial daughter, one who promptly proved herself less than deserving

    [ ] Where Earth Meets Sky

    Materials: Blue and white jade

    Themes: Air, Earth. Cutting, the parting of things great and small, emptiness and solidity

    Provenance: Created to celebrate the conquest of Prasad, a famed Burano family heirloom Ambraea's father carried with him to the Blessed Isle. His clan has been increasingly blatant in their requests for him to send it back to Prasad.

    [ ] The White Serpent

    Materials: White jade, orichalcum accents

    Themes: Earth. Sorcery. A young artifact of undefined potential that will be shaped alongside Ambraea, possibilities include curses, binding, resilience, and snakes.

    Provenance: Commissioned in secret by the Empress from the famed swordsmith Ledaal Shigora, immediately after Ambraea's first year of school as a show of the Empress's faith in her abilities. Shigora blades are legendary, and ordinarily only granted to those who swear to honour the smith's former calling as a famed Anathema Hunter. Shigora wisely made an exception at the Empress's request.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • You know I have a feeling Her Redness is just a little bit proud of Ambrea for defying her like this. I mean sure she will come down on her like a ton of bricks if anything we vote for actually gets in the way of her plans, but simply not adhering to expected norms just makes her stand out more, it shows courage and the will to stand up for herself, both qualities the Empress not only appreciates but attempts to instill in her children. And this isn't just as a moral position, I mean the whole house of cards she called her Scarlet Empire is based on the fact that she bred up a legion of strong willed descendants who fight like cats and dogs. Ambrea having double digit grudges before she leaves school is Mission Accomplished as far as the Lucky Lieutenant in Red is concerned.
     
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    Well.
    On the one hand it seems agreed that Nalri played games and lost.
    On the other hand it seems it was a step too far for polite society and that's apparently bad enough for lots of named characters-even ones who don't really like Ambrea to be like 'it was a pleasure knowing you.'
    …
    A part of me recalls we went for the 'weird but powerful' look and now, well.
    We have the fangs to go with that look.
    Fangs people can know about, at any rate…Peony flowers for Nalri's funeral?
     
    So for someone who is new to the this great story and quest... er... do we have a plan on how to survive what's coming, you know the Ebon Dragon kidnapping her Redness? I ask because as the youngest daughter of the Empress we do not have much of a leg to stand on in a dynastic fight while at the same time being valuable enough to paint a target in our backs. My first inclination would be to run to Prasad and hope everyone on the Blessed Island is too busy killing each other to remember who Ambrea is, but that is not what one would call a solid plan.
     
    Personally, a part of me looked at When Earth Meets Sky and wondered about returning it to Prasad, just with a Wood Sorcerer in the bargain.
    I dunno if it's a great plan but it appeals to me.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    So for someone who is new to the this great story and quest... er... do we have a plan on how to survive what's coming, you know the Ebon Dragon kidnapping her Redness? I ask because as the youngest daughter of the Empress we do not have much of a leg to stand on in a dynastic fight while at the same time being valuable enough to paint a target in our backs. My first inclination would be to run to Prasad and hope everyone on the Blessed Island is too busy killing each other to remember who Ambrea is, but that is not what one would call a solid plan.
    Click to expand...
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    I haven't seen a proper plan just yet, it seems like the plan is to gather as many allies as possible and figure something out when it happens.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    So for someone who is new to the this great story and quest... er... do we have a plan on how to survive what's coming, you know the Ebon Dragon kidnapping her Redness? I ask because as the youngest daughter of the Empress we do not have much of a leg to stand on in a dynastic fight while at the same time being valuable enough to paint a target in our backs. My first inclination would be to run to Prasad and hope everyone on the Blessed Island is too busy killing each other to remember who Ambrea is, but that is not what one would call a solid plan.
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    Click to shrink...

    As the quest likely will end by then, it's out of scope until the sequel quest happened.
     
    alexthealright said:
    I haven't seen a proper plan just yet, it seems like the plan is to gather as many allies as possible and figure something out when it happens.
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    We should really consider what allies we get though

    UrsaTempest said:
    As the quest likely will end by then, it's out of scope until the sequel quest happened.
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    Fair enough, but what we can do when it does happen is going to be contingent on what skills Ambrea has. The way I see it there are two ways to win:
    1. Figure out some way to get to the door of the Imperial Manse and then get though it. We are going to need companions and a human sacrifice, those are probably going to be one and the same since we do not know that last part IC. Also timing is key, if we can figure out the Empress is missing before most of the others we can make a run at the door, that is going to require spies at the palace
    2. Run as far and as fast as we can away from this powder keg, that is going to need contacts in the Threashold and Jade (or silver, just not script).
     
    The quest will have within its scope Ambraea deciding on a long-term post-mom-going-away plan to see to her safety. Swearing to support one of her sisters or another candidate for the throne in exchange for shelter, or otherwise becoming aligned with one of the houses is viable enough. She's a talented sorcerer, and she might be the least important of the Exalted Imperial children, but she's still an Imperial daughter.

    Also viable is fleeing to Prasad, converting to the Pure Way, seeking adoption into Clan Burano while her grandmother is still alive and Rani satrap, and marrying a nice Prasadi boy. It is necessary to ask if Ambraea is really willing to just cut and run like that, though -- abandoning all or most of her friends, the land where she was born and raised, not even trying to salvage what she's worked for all her life in order to seek safety for herself while the Realm is consumed in war behind her. She is not unattached to the Dynasty and the Blessed Isle.
     
    [X] The White Serpent

    You didn't expect anything else would get a significant vote, did you? :)
     
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