Sorry, it's taken a while for me to get back into the groove. Hopefully I'll update a couple more times over the next week.
*
A True Artist Is Unappreciated in Her Own Lifetime
Onstage, the poets collapsed in a heap, exhausted and spattered with ink. There didn't seem to be a clear winner. The crowd jeered and showered them both with flower petals. Looking utterly unimpressed, the Satrapess said, in a thin, reedy voice which somehow carried clearly above the din, 'To the winner, I will give two hundred silver shards and the Crown-of-Fools. However, before I choose a winner, would anyone else like to challenge these two young men?'
Several young men leapt onto the stage, eager to compete for the prize. Some of them launched into recitals of poems they'd prepared earlier. The two ink-spattered professional poets groaned and got to their feet; back-to-back, they stood together, poised as if ready to defend themselves against all-comers. In a few moments, the stage was bedlam. Still, the band played on.
You dashed down the stairs before anyone could stop you. Climbing up onto the stage, you stood blinking before an audience of hundreds. While would-be poets jostled each other and spoke their well-rehearsed lines, you opened your mouth and unleashed a stream of pure inspiration like the words of a prophet.
This is what you said:
'Come gather 'round and let me recite you a tale,
'Of wanton wickedness, and men who made it fail,
'An ancient time ago, long ere your sire was born,
'When all the golden men had left the world forlorn,'
'Demonic banners from old Betrur were unfurled,
'Their tainted forces marched out to unmake the world.
'And on the bidding of the demon lords of hell,
'They did descend upon the verdant lands of Quel.'
'With fighting fiercer than a man should ever take,
'They forced the Queli back to stand at Solace Lake.
'Heroes and champions, they knew right well their roles,
'Because the demons sought to mutilate all souls.'
'A sacred vow they made, within the lakeside mist,
'To safeguard souls and to atrocities resist.
'Their righteous passion did a goddess there impress,
'With rest and healing did she each among them bless.'
'And on the morrow was the lake dyed richest red,
'The price of victory: The heart of Queli bled.
'They won the day, although a half their number fell,
'Til other heroes did defeat the Lords of Hell.'
'Their oath, a legacy for knights in every age,
'From shining lancers to the unassuming page,
'And in their image is the essence of a knight,
'Compassion, virtue, and the might to put things right.'
Where did those words come from? In some unused portion of your brain, was there some hitherto undiscovered genius? Or were you divinely inspired: did a god put those words in your mouth? Mishrak was your dear friend, but he wasn't particularly eloquent; you doubted that the poem came from him. So... was Kaerina trying to mould you into the hero she wanted you to be? Was someone else trying to give you a special birthday? You didn't know. At the time, you had no idea.
Afterwards, for a moment, there was silence. Everyone was staring at you. Someone started to clap. And then, you were...
Utterly humiliated.
'A heroic poem from your homeland? Well-memorised,' said one of the would-be poets.
'Yes, a remarkable memory in one so young,' said the silver-haired poet. 'Well done, child.'
'Impressive,' the burly, bare-chested poet rumbled.
Someone else said snidely, 'A cute kid with a good memory. And presumably a carefully-honed sob story as well. Thats usually all it takes to impress an audience.'
There were mutters of agreement from the crowd. You saw them staring at you as if you were a performing monkey who'd been taught a clever trick. Everyone agreed that your poem could not possibly be original. Of course, they said, you must have learned it by rote until you could recite it word-for-word. That was worthy of praise, maybe, but hardly miraculous.
At the time, you did not protest. You were too unsure of where the poem had come from; you were filled with doubts and misgivings. Had you heard it somewhere before? Had you seen it in a book, perhaps? You could not recall. Faced with so many people who were convinced that the poem could not possibly be your own, you didn't try to argue. Instead, you let them heap condescending praise on top of you until they'd buried your feelings. Hidden behind a bland smile, you allowed them to lead you upstairs and introduce you to the elderly Satrapess who pinched your cheeks and said, 'What an adorable child.'
Though you were seething with rage, you didn't let them see it. Someone said, 'If you want to perform here, you need to create some poems of your own. Maybe in a few years.' You just smiled at him. You kept smiling until Mishrak, Jana, and Catharne came to take you away. In the end, you never found out who had won the poetry duel.
Mishrak led you by the hand, out of the palace and its grounds, along the main thoroughfares, and towards the harbour. It was a long walk, which gave you plenty of time to think and to swallow your anger. Your friends could see that you were sulking. After a little while, Catharne said anxiously, 'I think you're a great poet, Elys. I bet you came up with that poem all by yourself!'
'Never thought you had it in you,' said Jana. 'Yeah, I was impressed.'
'You don't think I just copied someone else's poem?' you asked.
'Did you?'
'No!' you shouted, stamping your foot for emphasis.
'Whatever you say, princess,' said Jana, raising her hands placatingly. 'I believe you.'
Near the harbour, Mishrak took you to a house belonging to some of his worshippers: a middle-aged couple, Anandak and Rutreda. When you arrived, they were setting up a table outside on a shady veranda where you could sit and eat. Anandak had tanned, leathery skin, a neatly-trimmed grey beard, and thin scars all over his hands. Rutreda was a plump, matronly woman with long grey hair nearly tied up in a bun. In honour of their god's visit, they were wearing their best and only slightly-faded clothes. With them was their grown-up son, Hiran, and his fiancée, Pirisha.
'Welcome!' Anandak cheered when he saw you'd arrived. 'Glad you could make it!'
'Come and sit down,' said Rutreda. 'I bet you're hungry.'
They'd prepared a meal consisting mostly of seafood: oysters, mussels, and other things that seemed comfortingly familiar to you since you'd lived your entire life by the sea. In addition, there were exotic fruits, vegetables, and spicy sauces you were more hesitant to try. You were hungrier than you'd realised and you ate heartily, as did Jana. Catharne lay down next to the table and munched on a plate of oysters, shells and all. Mishrak ate nothing and was quiet.
'Does this humble food not please you, master?' asked Anandak, looking worried.
'I have no need to eat,' said Mishrak. 'Your worship sustains me well enough. Thank you.'
'I'm a fisherman,' Anandak explained to you. 'Shellfish, mostly. I spend most days digging for clams, diving for oysters, and so on. Mishrak has been good to me. I've found several valuable pearls thanks to him.'
'Thanks to your own skill and hard work,' said Mishrak.
'The gods help those who help themselves,' Rutreda said philosophically.
'I've certainly helped myself to a lot of this lovely food,' said Anandak with a wink.
After the meal, they served cups of strong coffee – you and Jana were each given a tiny cup more suitable for a doll than a real person – and the young couple asked Mishrak to bless their marriage. 'I want lots of babies,' said Pirisha with a flirtatious glance at Hiran.
'You don't need my help with that,' Mishrak said. He blinked and looked more closely at Pirisha. 'In fact... I can see you're already well on the way.'
This provoked a great deal of excited shouting and squealing. You were rather confused by it.
What did you do after lunch? (Choose one)
[] You talked to Mishrak and asked why he was acting so gloomy.
[] You explored the city to see what other interesting places you could find.
[] You urged Mishrak to confront Azoth Halmaunder.
[] You talked to Anandak and Rutreda some more. (Write in: what did you want to talk about?)
[] You talked to Hiran and Pirisha some more. (Write in: what did you want to talk about?)
[] You went to visit the Bhiran family in their townhouse.
[] You were tired and you'd had enough. You asked Mishrak if you could go home.
[] You asked Jana and Catharne what they wanted to do.
[] You did something else (write in).