"An Audience with the God-King" Log Date: 10/20/99 Log Cast: Khalid, Faanshi Log Intro: The shudra Faanshi never considers herself brave. But there are that she has grown to believe in the time since she was freed from the captivity she suffered under the Warlord Hashim, and among these is the growing conviction that her power is being wasted when she must spend much of her day in menial labor. She does not _mind_ the menial labor -- indeed, she believes there to be a kind of honor in it -- but she has also come to realize that she has a strong healing gift, and she now hopes to do something with her life that will better allow her to use that gift in the service of the Varati people. To be sure, her mistress Kiera has never mistreated her, and Faanshi is not about to think ill of the halfbreed graisha wind-mage who saved her life -- but even an innocent like Faanshi cannot help but realize after months of barely seeing Kiera that Kiera hardly needs her services as a shudra. And so, knowing that Kiera wishes her to make something of herself, Faanshi sees no option but to seek permission from a higher authority: none other but the God-King himself, Khalid Atar, the closest thing Faanshi retains to a Clan Warlord. Of course, this means that Faanshi must therefore _talk_ to her god... *===========================< In Character Time >==========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Monday, June 10, 3905. Year on Earth: 1505 A.D. Phase of the Moon: First Quarter Season: Summer Weather: Partly Cloudy Temperature: Warm *==========================================================================* You ascend the stairs which lead to the sturdy double doors of the Throne Room. Throne Room - Atesh-Gah - Haven This massive rectangular area seem to rise forever; white polished marble catching the light that enters through the spacious windows on either side of the room and reflecting it throughout to dispel all shadow or gloom. The walls themselves are a work of art; the top half being the aforementioned stone, broken at mid-point by a border lovingly carved into an intricate design. Housed within the near foot-wide space is a pattern of interwoven bands of gold. The bottom half of the wall is sky-blue marble shot through with graceful swirls of cloudy white, once again giving way to pale marble for the few inches nearest the floor. Sturdy seats of golden-varnished wood, covered in cushions and upholstery of shimmering royal blue, are placed in orderly fashion at the sides of the room. Those who await the God-King's attention may rest as he attends matters of state. Dwarfing all is the raised dais of solid marble, upon which looms two thrones: one for the God-King and the other for his Queen. A testimony to the art and craft of the Varati people, the thrones practically shimmer in the resplendent light of the chamber; the God-King's is upholstered in royal blue while the Queen's is a vibrant red, both solidly constructed of the same marble that forms the room. A delicate filigree of gold offsets the satiny-hued cloth. Almost like an afterthought, to the right of the dias is a wooden throne, similar in design and upholstered in blue. There are two doorways in the room; the first, at the furthest end of the hall from the throne, leads to the foyer. The second is to the left of the dais. Contents: Khalid Offerings Obvious Exits: Entrance Foyer Royal Wing With morning comes a wakeful God-King; he is not seated at his throne, instead caught up in perusal of the offerings that line the room. He is as vigilant as ever, studying the armor's links and inlay with the minute attention to detail that comes to him be it sunrise or midnight. The Agni-Haidar part ways at the door, allowing you entry to the room at large, and though the Amir-Al does not look to you, rest assured that he knows of your presence, for his wings give a little rustle. The Seneschal had not been joking, realizes the halfbreed shudra in a rush of nervousness, when she'd advised that Faanshi could be called into the Throne Room at any time of the day or evening now that her request for an audience with the God-King has been approved. Ever since her meeting with Archana, Faanshi has striven to keep herself as scrupulously clean as possible, dreading the thought of being called before the Amir-al while she's been asked to muck out a wyvern stall. Now, though she is full of thanks that she has been summoned away from a far cleaner task and is therefore presentable, she is also full of nervous dread. Your absence from the throne causes her heart to skip in momentary consternation, but before she has time to flounder on where she must kneel, one of the vigilant sentries who have admitted her gestures her brusquely to the floor a suitable distance away. Down, then, the maiden goes, her sungolden brow pressed to her slender fingers, while the Lion of Fire also makes his obeisances and rumbles, "The shudra Faanshi, O Most High." "Ahh. Excellent," Khalid answers, a wave of his hand casting the words across marble floors and onto the air about your ears. He sniffs critically, lifting one sleeve of the armor shirt to inspect it with his nails. "Faanshi... You are Kiera's servant, are you not?" he asks, though the tone isn't really asking at all. He *knows* who you are. "Why did you wish to speak with me?" The sentry, having executed the duty of introduction, returns promptly to his post -- leaving the maiden in blue and red and gold where she has placed herself upon the floor. Faanshi experiences a cold moment of dismay as she cannot escape wondering whether you have forgotten her; to an experienced ear, the tone in which she is addressed may well imply otherwise, but this naive maiden is not so self-assured. Still, though, a relatively calmer corner of her mind advises stoic acceptance. She is a shudra. The God-King's recollection or lack thereof of her identity is not important. _Simply speak what you have come to say, Faanshi, and have done!_ "Y... yes, Most High," she speaks up, as clearly as she can manage while remaining face-down. "By your will I have been... the shudra of Imphada Kiera. I have come to ask your will as to... to whether this should continue or whether I may... seek a course of life in which... my magic may be put to best use." Even as she speaks she can feel herself trembling, and only with a mighty effort does she keep most of the stammer out of her voice -- an improvement over the Faanshi of several months ago, who was barely able to blurt out a reply when asked a question by her God-King. Turning at the waist, Khalid peers down over his sharp nose, regarding you with a mixture of thoughtful confusion and austere diffidence. His wings give a sharp snap as he paces diagonally across the throne room, orbiting to one side of you. "I see. You are unhappy with Kiera, then? Or perhaps with her rude absence," he states, inquiry as absent from his tone as humor. All is business, now. He pauses, the hollow sounds of his pacing lifting and then settling back around you. "You would join Delphi, then? Or what? I would entreat you to be less cryptic when voicing a desire..." Still Faanshi does not shift her position; if there is anything she has learned under the hand of the Warlord Hashim, it is how to hold a position of respect until she is given leave to alter it. But in the last year and a half she has also grown accustomed to providing only what information is asked for and nothing more when she is questioned by one who outranks her. Now, the request for elaboration by the being to whom she burns a prayer fire each evening takes her sharply by surprise. Faanshi draws in a startled breath, then hastily settles upon answering each question in the order of delivery while trying not to think too intently on the identity of the asker. "It... is not my place to question the Imphada Kiera's absences, Amir-al..." This might be hedging from anyone else; from Faanshi, it is simply a matter of earnestly stated fact. "She is kind to me... and just... when I see her. I do not seek to join Delphi..." For a moment, she pauses again, unsure. If you have not seemed to recall her identity, she wonders, would you recall the words uttered to her upon her deliverance from Clan Sarazen? They are certainly emblazoned in _her_ mind... and then, Faanshi uneasily opts to offer a shy reminder. "Y-you told me that... if I were deserving perhaps you would consider my joining the Atarvani or the Ushasti. And... I have... I hope... to serve your Holy Mother, Hawk of Heaven... if that is your will and if... I can prove m-myself deserving in your sight..." Well, _that_ was not the speech as she'd rehearsed it over and over to the patient ears of her dog. Abashed by her own delivery of it and for the thousandth time inwardly chiding herself for not possessing the beautiful speech of Thomas Murako, she squeezes her eyes shut in embarrassment over her hands. "Yes, I remember my promise to you... Though when I spoke to you that first day I did not expect you to turn out nearly as well as you have." The God-King seems a little surprised himself - maybe he expected you to be dead by now. He's not explaining, though. Regarding the shards of light that filter in from the doorway, he folds his arms tiredly. "If you were to join the Atarvani, I fear you would not survive - which is not an insult upon you, but rather a testament to the fact that you are old enough to be *ending* the training, much less beginning. The Ushasti, however... They are not an official organization. I am sure, though, that you would do well with them. However... You must do something for me, if I am to permit this." "Turn out... as well--" comes an involuntary, astonished murmur from the girl on the floor. For a moment, all Faanshi can think is _What?_, feeling much as she'd done when a Mongrel bard had serenaded her, and having a devil of a time reconciling such offhandedly uttered words being directed to _her_. Then she forces her attention sternly back to the matter at hand and blurts, "I am yours to command, Amir-al...!" Embarrassment seizes her again at the sound of her own voice. A heavy chuckle fills your ears, resting there as thick, damp wool upon one's shoulders. "You must at least try to convince Kiera to return to Haven. If even to visit. You must not tell her I asked this of you, as well. She believes she would offend me by disapproving of the Maharani; she does offend, but not nearly as much as she does so by remaining away. I will not force her to return, but I should like it if she would return of her own free will. After doing such a thing, seek out the Ushasti; they shall decide if you will be a member or not. I will not take my hand to their affairs," Khalid intones, turning to look down at you with hard, thoughtful eyes - their fire is deep and unhidden, but there is no anger directed at you. The shudra does not look up, and does not need to do so to imagine the weight of the sky-blue stare that goes with that deific laughter. Swallowing hard, she ventures timidly, "I... had already... hoped to try to accomplish that, Amir-al. We met i-in the gardens in the city, days ago... she asked if I could do something with my power and I-I need to learn how so that--" And, abruptly, she cuts herself off, realizing she's just violated the unspoken cardinal rule of never volunteering unsought information to her betters. Heat courses across her cheeks, along with fervent gratitude that her veiled face is still pressed into the floor, her features therefore concealed from view. "Well, then, it seems you are already well prepared... Very well. I shall expect to hear from Kiera if she is convinced. If not, so be it," Khalid deadpans, turning away from you to pace back to his throne; his wings cast a long shadow that falls over your head and shoulders in a wave of cool darkness. Apparently this interview is at its end, and you are dismissed, for he does not speak, and two Agni-Haidar move to flank you. And... that's it? Faanshi can glimpse the ebon shadow of ebon wings out of the corner of her eyes, as well as the feet of the sentries who materialize seemingly out of nowhere to either side of her. Knowing dismissal when she hears it, she rises up to her knees, her gaze still humbly lowered -- enough to hide the sudden moisture glimmering in leaf-green eyes. But her slender form's position does not hide the stunned gratitude in her soft voice, as she sketches an unthinking sigil across her breast and breathes, "Thank you, Amir-al... thank you...!" With that, she pulls herself to her feet, backing away several steps before she remembers that she doesn't really need to walk backwards all the way to the door... but, truth be told, the direction she's facing is the last thing on her mind as she allows the Lions of Fire to escort her out. The glimpses she's gotten this day of the God-King and the sound of his voice and laughter have left her reeling, and she thinks of nothing else as she makes her meek departure. [End log.]