"Discoveries and Strange Conversations"

Log Date:
	3/4/99

Log Cast:
	Kiera, Faanshi, Timin, Siba, Chana-Cari, Shahar

Log Intro:
	Ever since she first set foot in Atesh-Gah, it has seemed to Faanshi
that the place is full of strange, perplexing people of all shapes and sizes
and ranks -- and, for that matter, races. People who are halfbreed. People
who are Empyrean. And almost as startling to her, people who seem to not
look askance upon her for the simple fact that she is a shudra and a 
halfbreed, though they have so far been a scattered few. She has seen the
Seneschal of Atesh-Gah and the Foreign Minister with her own eyes, and she
has seen women who are part of the ranks of the priests of the Amir-al.
	But she has yet to personally meet Timin, a halfbreed of particular 
interest to her mistress Kiera... and she has yet to realize that even
aside from the cryptic utterances of the God-King as to her potential fate,
His own priests and priestesses might be interested of their own accord in
a healer such as herself. And she has yet to discover that such things can
happen all at the same time as Kiera discovering the identity of her father.

----------
You wind your way through an opening in the bushes and head toward the 
  fountain.
Fountain - Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven
       Concealed within the ring of tall, carefully groomed bushes and the 
  oddly comforting sight of droop-branched willows, is the merry and gurgling 
  presence of a marble fountain. As meticulously cleaned as the rest of 
  Atesh-Gah seems to be, the intricate stonework deceptively simple in 
  appearance. Perhaps ten feet across, the fountain itself is filled with 
  clear, cool water that bubbles forth from a raised pedestal in the centre of 
  the great circle. 
      Carefully tended gardens of bright flowers provide a colourful trim to 
  the circle of trees, their combined scent filling the air with a subtle and 
  sweet fragrance. The temptation to linger here and bask in the soothing 
  feast of the senses is only increased by the presence of the four stone 
  benches that are placed around the fountain. 
Contents:
Kiera
Obvious exits:
Courtyard <C>

Timin enters the lovely seclusion of the fountain area from the courtyard.
Timin has arrived.

The weather is a dull grey sort, that doesn't quite drop the promise of sleet 
  upon the citizens of Haven, nor does it go away, so as to let the sun shine. 
  Kiera was late in going hunting, so she was also late in returning and now 
  she stands by the fountain, washing blood off her hands. Her wings show some 
  sign of disarray, as if she has not yet groomed them, and the breezes in the 
  garden are easy, almost natural.

Siba enters the lovely seclusion of the fountain area from the courtyard.
Siba has arrived.

It is a somewhat nervous Faanshi who ventures into the garden, a big basket in 
  her hands and old gloves to protect them, for her assigned task this day is 
  to gather fallen blooms and branches for the tidying of this place. Upon 
  seeing her mistress near the fountain, however, the shudra's green eyes 
  brighten over the top of her veil, and she ventures nearer to Kiera, calling 
  softly, "Good day, Imphada Kiera...!"

Step. Step. Step. At least the Agni-Haidar at the gate are so damned mean 
  anymore. Not that they'll ever be cordial and open-minded about Yet Another 
  Halfbreed getting his way into the compound, but still. No physical 
  violence. This is Good, since Timin couldn't take much punishment from them. 
  Anyway, Yet Another Halfbreed is called Timin by most of the world. And he's 
  here to visit. Isn't that lovely? The halfbreed's got that cloak on, as 
  usual, since the spring weather has decided yet again to be finicky and 
  cold. So. There he walks.

Siba meditates in a corner, just another hooded and robed priest doing the 
  Utter Stillness and Contemplation act in the washed out grey light. Her red 
  robes seem, perhaps, a reproach to the utter 'blah'-ness of the day-- for 
  the moment, Siba's got her hood up, her veils on (this is as effective as 
  blinders), and she's got her back to the group, having neither seen nor 
  heard Kiera's splashing hygenie nor Faanshi's soft greeting.

This is the day of a full moon, so when Kiera looks up, likely more at the 
  sound of feet upon the path than the voice or word or meaning of that word, 
  her gaze is almost alien, so similar to that avian whose colors paint her 
  wings. Faanshi garners a long look from Kiera, before the latter blinks, 
  nods, remembers speech, "Faanshi. HOw fare you?" Then, quick and quick, 
  Kiera's gaze flicks to Timin, then Siba. Both recognized slowly, as if 
  Kiera's brain has to further evolve, to do so. "Timin!" Lighter, that sound. 
  She straightens, heedless that there's still al long streak of blood on her 
  left arm.

There are others, in the garden, that Kiera knows? Faanshi blinks her green 
  eyes, casting a shy glance over one shoulder -- shy in reaction to the 
  disheveled and bloodied state of her mistress, shy in reaction to the 
  possibility of encountering yet more strangers, who will react to her... she 
  knows not how. But Timin -- this name she has heard. A curious glance 
  flickers across the top edge of her veil.

Timin
Best not to say 'handsome' or 'beautiful'; it would be a lie. 'Handsomish,' 
  and perhaps 'striking' are suitable. Dusky skin, a shade or so lighter than 
  a deep golden brown, smooth. The face wants to be angular, sharp, cut from a 
  harsh, rough stone, but it isn't. Smoother features: a soft edge on the jut 
  of a cheekbone, a rounded, yet somewhat protruding chin, with a touch of 
  jet-black stubble. Slim, on the way towards near-gaunt. Thin lips, an 
  ordinary nose. Azure eyes, nearly half-lidded, stare out. An unmarked face, 
  decorated only by the starburst tattoo around the right eye, and perhaps a 
  lock of the short-chopped black hair, trimmed neatly above.
It's a tallish figure, even with the hint of a slouch that effects it from 
  time to time, and wiry. Lean muscle, most like, were it visible. It's not a 
  large man, necessarily. Clad in simple attire: a large tunic, deep charcoal 
  grey, is belted at the waist. Covered in a long, hooded grey affair, thrown 
  over the shoulder mainly against the weather and elements. A large black 
  belt, with dull brass buckle, leads into simple breeches. At the end, the 
  near-obligatory leather boots, carrying this one through a firm, assured 
  stride, brief and relaxed in its execution.

Siba does not yet hear-- not much. ACross the surface of her mind, the called 
  greetings float. Kiera. Faanshi-how-are-you. Timin. Perhaps this holds meat 
  for her to meditate upon. Perhaps not; perhaps it is only that the time for 
  meditation is over. There is a slight shift in her breathing patterns, in 
  the set of her shoulders, as she begins to swim up out of the self-imposed 
  trance.
Siba looks at you for a moment.

Faanshi
     At first glance, some things about this individual are easy to discern. 
  The garments worn are those oft seen on Varati females, yet while this 
  figure stands tall at 5'9", the build is small for a woman of that race. But 
  woman she clearly is, if the glimpses of slender hands and feet and of the 
  shape beneath her flowing garb are to be believed. What portions of her skin 
  are visible are a warm shade of gold; a hint of a braid of coal-black peeks 
  out from beneath her sari. Shy or perhaps simply trained to submissive 
  silence she must be, for she rarely raises her eyes to anyone unless 
  specifically bidden, and she speaks so seldom and so softly that it is nigh 
  impossible to determine the quality of her voice. Only the most astute of 
  observers might notice that every so often -- perhaps when she thinks no one 
  is watching -- this silent one peeks with furtive curiosity out from behind 
  her veil at the world at large, with eyes set at a slight un-Varatish slant 
  in her face, eyes the color of summer leaves.
     She is simply clad, her garments of humble make but excellent repair, 
  perhaps the clothing of a servant whose household garbs even its servants 
  well. Her choli is a bright shade of red; her silwar, bright blue. A darker 
  blue sari with gold trim is wrapped about her slender frame, and a veil of 
  translucent light blue silken stuff conceals the lower half of her face from 
  easy view. On her feet are a penniless shudra's version of boots -- several 
  rags of blue, red, and gold cloth tied there and there along her calves, 
  ankles and feet, held in place by the long thongs of her sandals.

The halfbreed's choice of clothes, his use of that hood...it might be 
  painfully melodramatic, were it not for the way Timin carries himself. The 
  glimmering eyes under half-lids bathe in that lil' bit of shadow, coming 
  across the expanse of the courtyard. And under there, the face lighting up 
  in that subtle, boyish thing he likes to call a smile. Give him a second, 
  since Timin's still gettin' there. Once within in audible distance (fairly 
  close for the halfbreed), he'll send his own greeting. "Kiera." And the 
  smile grows wider.

"I am the lock, I am the key, I am the twig, set to burn; I am the crucible, 
  in the flame, I am the metal, ready to pour..."
Slender hands dance like birds; wide dark eyes look out from under a dark 
  veil, which obscures her features. Her hair is dark, and she is tall as a 
  temple pillar, skin the dusky color of shadows by fire-light. And her back 
  is straight, unbowed by years. All else is obscured by the voluminous cloak 
  of black that she wears, moves in gracefully, motions conveying confidence 
  that need not be spoken.

A pure, animal delight courses over Kiera's features, displacing any sort of 
  mask she might have worn, with which Faanshi is much more familiar. "Timin," 
  she says again, then sorts around as words settle over thoughts, giving the 
  mind a much more 'human' aspect, "The Khalid-Atar said that you had spoken 
  to him. But I did not see you, so wondered. Faanshi, it is Timin, here. 
  Timin, this is Faanshi. She is like you. Her parents." Alright. Human 
  aspect, but Kiera's having to remember more complex sentences, ideas.

Kiera. The Khalid-Atar. Fanshi. Timin. Kiera. Kiera. Kiera. That's the word 
  that Siba says first, the taste of it nearly inquiring. "Kiera?" A pause, as 
  she glances around, her robes effectively obscuring her view so badly that 
  she doesn't see what's right in front of her. Someone needs to do something 
  about that design. Isn't there a Divine Tailor somewhere that turns out 
  Atar-Approved Outerwear for Atmans?

Faanshi, peeking up again over the top of her veil, cannot help but give Timin 
  a slightly longer peek this time. Oh, aye, Kiera has mentioned this one to 
  her before, but to _see_, for the first time, another being whose blood is 
  like hers... this is enough to keep the shudra's gaze up, as her eyes widen 
  in startled wonder. From behind the silken blue stuff that hides half her 
  face, her voice ventures out soft and low and clear: "Good day, Imphadi 
  Timin."

Shahar enters the lovely seclusion of the fountain area from the courtyard.
Shahar has arrived.

Chana-Cari enters the lovely seclusion of the fountain area from the courtyard.
Chana-Cari has arrived.
Chana-Cari looks at you for a moment.

She's happy to see him. Hell, he's two for two now. Amazing what happens when 
  Timin behaves himself. Let's see if he can keep it up. Khalid's tipped the 
  odds very favorably with a few well-placed comments. Things like 'handing 
  over' and 'Faisal' and 'three days of torture.' Faanshi, please excuse Timin 
  if his attention isn't immediately shifted. He can to see Kiera, and he 
  missed her. Nono, he really did. And the azure eyes slide from grai...Kiera 
  to the other halfbreed. "Faanshi." Rolls the name off the tongue, in that 
  soft-baritone thing he's going on for a voice. "A pleasure to meet you, 
  imphada." See? He's even learning all the right Varati words. The smile is 
  solid, and sincere.

Kiera stands by the fountain, a slash of fresh blood staining her left arm, 
  water on her hands. Timin and Faanshi are nearby, and likely observing one 
  another. Siba was sitting in a corner, but now has looked to the activity of 
  the group. And overhead, the heavy grey afternoon sky hangs, threatening 
  rain.

Chana-Cari walks into the center of the bushes,coming to relax outside.

The four Agni-Haidar who are ever in the company of Khalida's Shakir are 
  presently distanced a few feet behind her; some semblance of space is 
  apparently required for her in this stroll. Her legs carry her in long, 
  determined strides toward the fountain, though her pace suggests she has no 
  particular aim.

Once acknowledged, the girl in Khalida blue and red and gold dips her head 
  once more, murmuring humbly, "I am only a shudra, Imphadi Timin; I am only 
  Faanshi. But thank you for your honor." Faanshi's gaze drops but doesn't 
  quite stay dropped, as she peeks sidelong at her mistress, looking for some 
  hint as to whether Kiera might wish to be alone with this... well, Faanshi 
  does not know what word might be appropriate, but Timin is close to her, and 
  that is enough to tell the shudra girl to yield any claim on the winged 
  imphada's attention to this visitor.

Chana-Cari eyeing the others, shyly, walks to an unoccupied bench and sits 
  down.

"Shakir!" Well, one thing that Siba /does/ see is the Shakir. Having been on 
  'errand-duty' at various times (doing page duties when diplomatic delicacy 
  is required). Above the veil, dark eyes widen, and widen again as she 
  /finally/ catches sight of all three half-breeds. She rises in a swirl of 
  crimson robes and a glint of gold braid. "Imphada Kiera," the other two 
  aren't really addressed at all. "A pleasure to..." A step backwards. "See 
  you both. I hope my meditations have not disturbed either of you unduly?"

Shahar's head turns, thereby shifting her ocular direction from some distant 
  realm of her own fanciful creation to Siba. Chin raises, full lips press 
  forward slightly, then she murmurs with the respect one tenders to a devout 
  follower of Khalid, "Atman...I trust you are well today and that the many 
  blessings of the Amir-al shine upon you?"

You were meditating? Kiera looks at Siba rather blankly, then shakes her head, 
  turning back to Timin, to Faanshi. Shahar is noted, through them, but the 
  words are not for her: "Faanshi will become a great healer someday, will 
  maybe join the Atarvani." There's pride in Kiera's words, and she almost 
  smiles at Faanshi, before she reaches to touch Timin's arm, "But now, she 
  only learns about the Varati who are not in her clan. Like I do. Learn about 
  the Varati, still."

_Shakir...?_ Faanshi, then, can be seen to start at the sound of Siba's voice 
  as she calls out that title. New as she may be to Atesh-Gah, she has been in 
  the citadel long enough to hear shudra and naraki both speak of the Shakir 
  of the clan which has adopted her. Even though she might not know the woman 
  by sight, the cadre of Agni-Haidar that accompanies her is more than enough 
  to signal the woman's exalted position to the halfbreed shudra. At Kiera's 
  words, though, a hint of color peeks up over the top of her veil, a mostly 
  concealed blush. "Do you wish me to stay, Imphada?" she murmurs to Kiera. 
  "Or shall I go about my gathering of the branches?" Her blue-saried head 
  bobs down towards the basket she still holds.

Chana-Cari is uncomfortable with the others so close. She atnds and heads in 
  to the courtyard.
Chana-Cari leaves the garden fountain and steps back into the main courtyard.
Chana-Cari has left.

Yeah, well, give Timin a little time. He's not up on all of his Varati 
  terminology and procedures. Might get him killed, unfortunetly. And the 
  halfbreed is getting much better at it, as he actually starts paying 
  attention. And moving closer to Kiera at the touch on his arm. "You'll have 
  to excuse me, Faanshi. I'm still learning the particulars of the language." 
  Like, what to call whom and when. But, right now, that's irrelevant, 'cause 
  Kiera's close by. Thus. "A great healer. You study with the Varati, then?"

What does Kiera want? She wants Faanshi to do what /she/ wants, and Timin is 
  talking to her, so ... Kiera just lets that queistion ride, figuing that 
  Faansi will have to decide something, eventually, and that is good enough 
  for Kiera. The halfbreed's wing curls around Timin, as if sheltering him 
  from the heavy grey skies.

Oh, now, that catches Siba's interest. A healer? Shudra or no, she steps 
  closer to the halfbreed. "Faanshi, you are called?" The query is politely 
  made, inserted into a pause in Faanshi's conversation with Kiera. "And you, 
  perhaps, wish to join the Atarvani?" She takes a breath, the inhalation 
  dimpling her veil inward, slightly. "Would you care to walk with me, 
  Faanshi, and talk of this possible goal?"

Shahar slants her gaze at Faanshi, peridot regard partially veiled by a set of 
  lustrous, long ebony lashes. No reaction is evident, though the full-blooded 
  Varati woman is out and about sans the face covering that is the hallmark of 
  her people's women.

No doubt about it, Faanshi is blushing; the golden skin round her green eyes 
  is beginning to darken, as the blood rises up to heat her entire face, even 
  past the blue veil. "I am told I am a healer," is her whispered reply to 
  Timin, as a flicker relief steals through her breast, that Kiera is content 
  for her to remain with her. "I do not yet have studies past what my 
  heart-mother has given me--" At Siba's hail to her, though, she starts anew, 
  freezing where she stands. Red robes... a priest, then, and this priest 
  wishes to speak to _her_? As Siba draws nearer, Faanshi drops her a 
  respectful little curtsey and adds, sounding just a trifle overwhelmed, 
  "I... yes, if you would wish it, imphada..."

Almost. Kiera almost grins at this attention Faanshi gets. "Faanshi, this is 
  Siba. She is Atarvani, too." Too, as if Faanshi is already there, in her 
  mistress' eyes. Just hasn't quite donned the garb.

Curled wing. Timin likes that. The halfbreed's stance relaxes a bit at that 
  gesture. It's been a dicey exercise moving in an out of the Atesh-Gah 
  lately, especially when he's got to deal with a rather stern father-figure. 
  But he'll let Faanshi be pulled away from Siba, if that's her aim. And speak 
  only when spoken to, Timin. It's been a good thing to go by so far. With a 
  final tear of his eyes off of the pair, Timin's attention will move to Kiera.

Listen and learn. Shahar believes in that and thereby minds not standing to 
  one side of this conversation, acknowledged yet not included. She studies 
  each woman in turn, her observations thorough and unhurried: this period 
  outdoors is one of self-indulgence despite her hefty schedule, perhaps. And 
  at times, as if an afterthought, she sidles her gaze to Timin. Lingeringly.

Siba makes a rude noise, under the veil... something that most Atarvani 
  wouldn't do. Seems they haven't trained all her old tricks out of her. 
  "Atman," and her voice is gentle enough in correcting the half-breed 
  Faanshi, for obviously, Faanshi (like Kiera) must be a devout follower of 
  the Al-Amir. Timin she's not sure of; he gets ignored. "And only if -you- 
  would wish it, Faanshi. Atar's right hand is force, but his left is a free 
  choice-- for peacable conversation, especially."

Now it's been a few moments, interacting as a 'human', with 'humans', such 
  that Kiera is pulled back into that mindset, with the -rest- of the 
  memories. Specidrically, what happened in court after Khalid told Kiera that 
  Timin had called upon him. So Kiera turns her full attention to him - Timin 
  - and asks, "What are they saying about me, in Haven?" Who else has she been 
  shamed in front of?

What are they saying? That's hard to actually figure, because Timin hasn't 
  been listening. See, he doesn't care. The halfbreed's environment is one 
  where status and honor come from entirely different sources, if they come at 
  all. 'course, he has no idea what happened in court. He only knows that he 
  barely escaped becoming a large bacon bit. "If they say at all, they speak 
  of a halfbreed under the Khalid's protection. One of his favored." Not many 
  people know that Timin has a serious interest in Kiera. "What else would 
  they?" His face cants, as he turns to Kiera.

Faanshi blows out a very soft sigh, peeking sidelong at Kiera and Timin before 
  taking a few steps to close the distance between herself and Siba. The 
  shudra girl hesitantly sets down her basket, and her gloved hands can be 
  seen to fidget with one another, like nervous little birds. "I _do_ wish to 
  know more, Atman," she ventures, the title coming without hesitation into 
  her soft voice. "The Most High... has said that if I am deserving, perhaps I 
  may be Atarvani or Ushasti..." Here, however, she trails off. Faanshi does 
  not know what criteria the Most High would care to apply to define what she 
  deserves, and one might even suspect that the girl hasn't quite convinced 
  herself that such a goal is possible for her.

Well, subtltly is not Kiera's strongpoint. "-Cassius- -Augustin- has spoken 
  that he is my father." Which is a huge terrible axe-blow of shame to Kiera. 
  She, in fact, won't even look at Timin when she speaks this. "When he came 
  to the court, when the Khalid said we could all asks questions of him. I 
  asked him why he hated me, the first time."

Shahar's weight shifts from one foot to the other, though the alteration in 
  her posture is just discernable. Judging from the direction of her eyes and 
  their frequent refocussing between the two conversational knots, she seems 
  to be listening to both Kiera's chat with Timin and Faanshi's talk with Siba.

Blink. Blink. *BLINK*. *Cassius?* No. What? Cassius? "He's...what?" Yep, that 
  was Timin. "Your father?" Huh. "Are you certain?" Timin's finger will try 
  and find a spot under Kiera's chin. For a gentle movement, to tip her eyes 
  back to his. Again. The halfbreed doesn't care.

"If he has said it, then all you must do is be deserving." Not so hard, Siba's 
  voice is matter of fact, soft enough not to cut into Kiera and Timin's 
  conversation. Reasonable, even. Strange how a fanatic can sound so... calm, 
  when talking to a believing heart. "And if you are a healer, untrained, then 
  you will need the training." That's earnestly said, with some strange 
  intensity behind it, as Siba for an instant looks not through Faanshi, but 
  straight at her, trying to get the girl to meet her gaze.

Kiera will let her head chgange angles, but she won't look at Timin. "He would 
  have been killed, if he lied. The Khalid-Atar would have known. And he did 
  not wish to say this." Nor did Kiera wish to hear it. "But he recognized me 
  because I look like my mother. And he hated me for realizing what I was, and 
  who." Kiera's voice softens now, but she does not heed the breezes and they 
  carry her words to asany who might listen.

What -- what is this, about Kiera and her father? Faanshi glances startledly, 
  momentarily, at her mistress. She hadn't known much of Kiera's parents, save 
  that one had been Empyrean, the other Sylvan; nor does she know who Cassius 
  Augustin is, save that he is someone Important. Hearing her words now, 
  thusly uttered, spikes into the shudra's attention for all that she now 
  strives to pay respectful attention to the Atman. With an effort, she does 
  tug her gaze back round to Siba, to whom she murmurs gravely, a touch 
  anxiously, "Nabi Jhonan has said so to me, yes, Atman... and so has my 
  heart-mother. I am trying to be patient, and serve Clan Khalida well in
  the meantime...!"

She's trying /so hard/ not to hear. *SO* hard. But Siba can't help it-- she 
  rakes the garden with an incredulous stare (the last she'd seen Cassius 
  Augustin, he'd been set to mulch the plants with manure). /That's/ Kiera's 
  father? Recalling herself, she pulls her gaze back to Faanshi, and says a 
  trifle weakly, "As you say, Faanshi. I am sure you are a credit to your 
  Clan."

Shahar has no desire to interrupt either impassioned discussion, nor does she 
  have a specific need to leave the area and ignore the words and emotions 
  therein. So silent she is, attentive, and observant.

Well, yeah, the Khalid-Atar is pretty good at picking out liars. He picked out 
  Timin. Then again, Timin wasn't exactly in his best form. More of a glossing 
  over that Khalid caught. And then threatened to kill him over. Timin will 
  step in that curl of wing a bit further, to cup the halfbreed's face in his 
  hands. "It doesn't matter," comes the response to some unspoken statement. 
  "You can't be blamed for that."

If her eyes can't escape, she can shut them, so Kiera does this. Both wings 
  shuffle around Timin's form, though, now muffling their words slightly as 
  the sound waves have to work through a dampening medium before they'd reach 
  outside ears, "I cannot be blamed for what he and my mother did, you say, 
  but then the Varati and the Empyrean both have clans or households, where the 
  actions of one member can bring the entire group into shame." See, she has 
  learned somethings, since being here. "I do not wish to shame the Khalida 
  clan, or Khalid-Atar."

Not about to claim to be a credit to anything, Faanshi only murmurs, "I can 
  only hope to become so..." Seeing Siba's attention distract, the shudra 
  trails off, unsure whether to step back so that the red-robed woman can join 
  the other conversation.

Siba gives Faanshi what she hopes is a quick and reassuring smile, but it's 
  invisible under the veil. "No, please, go on. My apologies for my rudeness-- 
  I was... merely startled that a slave of such little merit could have sired 
  someone with such pure devotion to the Atar." She'll be polite about her 
  opinion of Cassius. And it wasn't her that kicked him into the wheelbarrow 
  full of manure. No, it wasn't.

Inside the protective blanket of wings, Timin will continue with his ignorant 
  halfbreed questions. "You have acted honorably, no? Khalid himself chastized 
  me for wanting to court a 'hero of the war.'" Before they made a small deal, 
  that is. And Timin got reallyreally honest. "Has he voiced any doubts on 
  your actions?"

Go on..? What more is there to say...? Faanshi falters for a moment, before 
  seizing upon a simple, truthful question: "Could you perhaps... advise me, 
  Atman? I do not... know much of how to proceed."

Much as she would like to participate in this discussion, Shahar finds herself 
  drawn more toward her duties than in this form of relaxation and, with a nod 
  to her recently appeared assistant, she turns and heads back inside.

"I have not seen him since. I ... Ran away. Did not return for a few days. And 
  I have spoken only with the Shahar, there." A nod toward that woman. Kiera 
  lived as a hawk in the area, never quite leaving, never quite returning. 
  "She does not act as if I have shamed the clan. But now... No one outside 
  the Atesh-Gah knows. That I know of. So I asked you, what they say of me 
  now, there. In Haven, Timin." Now Kiera will look at him, her eyes bright 
  and miserable within the shield of her wings.

Shahar leaves the garden fountain and steps back into the main courtyard.
Shahar has left.

Advise you? Siba turns grave eyes upon you. "I know from your words that you 
  are conscientious in performing your duties, Faanshi." Mildly said, a tilt 
  of hooded head so that crimson fabric pats at her veil lightly. "And when 
  the Hawk of Heaven is ready, he will declare you to be of the priestly 
  caste," Siba's player can't remember Varati vocabulary worth crap, "And you 
  will be sent away, for schooling. Do you know much of the duties of the 
  priesthood?"

When the Khalid is ready... well, this is not exactly a surprise to the shudra 
  girl. Still, she blurts before she can stop herself, "Would you... perhaps 
  know what might move Him to decide--" And then Faanshi cuts herself off, 
  blushing all the more vividly, suspecting the question to be impertinent. 
  Hoping to cover her presumption, she quickly shakes her head to Siba's query.

Presumption is apparently forgiven-- that approving smile reaches into Siba's 
  eyes, hidden though her mouth is, under the veil. "Forgive me, Faanshi-- but 
  I do not know what will move the Al-Amir in the future. I can only speak of 
  the things that have moved him in the past, to make such declarations, if 
  that will do?"

To this, Faanshi bobs her head in acceptance, green eyes holding relief -- and 
  perhaps a bit of eagerness, an anxiety to learn. "Yes, Atman," she says 
  softly, straightening a bit where she stands, her gaze seeming more inclined 
  to stay up as this red-robed priestess coaxes curiosity out of her.

He'll let his face get closer, under that veiling of wings. Gets closer, 
  comfortable, smoothing his hands across her jaw, her cheek. Kiera's. "They 
  say little. If they do, they speak of a winged halfbreed, who fought under 
  the Atar. One of his chosen." Timin can't imagine that they'd say anything 
  different. What else do they have to base it on?

"Would you be more comfortable, sitting?" is the courteous inquiry. Siba knows 
  she would-- she moves to a bench, not out of eyesight of Kiera and Timin, 
  but far enough away that she's not eavesdropping. "If you wish to sit, 
  Faanshi, please, do so."

Once the offer has been made, Faanshi does not hesitate to follow the 
  priestess, though she reaches down to bring her basket along with her, ready 
  to go about her gathering of twigs and fallen blooms should the conversation 
  end. "Thank you, Atman," she breathes, her voice too soft to pipe, though 
  there is something childlike in the rapidity of delivery of those three 
  short words.

"I do not know. I think that he thinks it is a shame, too, so if anyone finds 
  out, it is likely going to be talked about, Timin. Not yet, I guess. I did 
  not see what happened after I left, and the Shahar did not speak of 
  anything, except the man is to be my slave. Mine and Arslan's and Faisal's. 
  I do not need the slave I have, and I certaintly do not need this man as a 
  slave." Kiera's a bit put out by the whole thing, and bewildered.

Siba seems surprised, under the confines of the cloths. "There is nothing to 
  thank me for, Faanshi." She even sounds surprised. "It is a duty, to educate 
  those who wish to learn, and to answer the questions of those people who are 
  devoted to the God of Flame. Of /any/ caste-- or even those who are naraki." 
  She takes another inward breath, expells it in a slight flutter of veil. 
  "But you wished to know the reasons, in the past, that the Atar has declared 
  individuals to be atarvani. First and foremost, they must have a desire for 
  the priesthood."

"I will not be speaking of it. I doubt there will be much gossip outside of 
  the gates. Until He," Notes the capitals. "speaks to you on the subject, I 
  would push it from your thoughts. The Empyrean is not worth the energy." 
  Yes. So sayeth Timin. And he'll cap that thought off with the lightest of 
  kisses, brief. Just to punctuate the thought. The halfbreed's certainly his 
  bold self this afternoon.

The shudra girl, seating herself, listens attentively to Siba, her interest 
  visible in her unveiled eyes and in her stance, as she leans slightly 
  forward once she sits down. Faanshi does not yet offer a reply, but she does 
  nod intently, eyes wide.

"And these individuals must be patient, and show obedience to the Atar," Siba 
  continues, her voice soft-- perhaps with memory, for it sounds as if she's 
  recounting personal experience. "Patient, because He will wish to test such 
  a desire in ...unusual cases, to see that it is a true one. And obedient, 
  because in the testing, He might choose to put such a person into a 
  situation in which they must choose between the priesthood and the rest of 
  what they hold dear." She stirs, just to shake her head a little, eyes 
  crinkling a bit at the corners.

OH! That neatly distracts Kiera, that kiss. Poor woman's between moons, only 
  given this Self due to the sunlight, and oh-yes she's responding to physical 
  stimuli. And she responds, making the bit of a kiss a bit more of a kiss. 
  And notice, if you will: The air currents do not change. Not in the 
  slightest.

Gracious! Faanshi's attention distracts anew as she casts sight of Timin and 
  Kiera's intimacy out of the corner of her eye, and the girl hastily averts 
  her gaze, once more visibly blushing even over the top of her veil. One 
  might suspect that Faanshi has never seen someone kiss before -- and, in 
  fact, she hasn't.

Siba has to glance over-- she blinks a moment, and then looks away. That's 
  /Kiera's/ business. Kiera Khalida's business, not her business. To distract 
  the shudra, she asks, still in a mild voice, "Tell me, Faanshi, do you know 
  the surahs?"

They have no shame, really. Timin certainly doesn't, and Kiera's not known for 
  her modesty. And, hell, while they're at it, might as well make it a Bit 
  More of a Kiss. 'course, at this point, Timin's fuzzy on whether or not this 
  behavior is kosher, according to the directions of Khalid. What's courting 
  include? Timin's definition certainly includes this, but he's not really in 
  charge here. Ohwell.

And Kiera's new to the game, so she's inclined to make up the rules as she 
  goes. She tends to do taht anyway, anymore, for most things. And you can't 
  see /too/ much of what's goign on, Faanshi. Kiera has very broad wings.

"Y-yes, Atman!" Faanshi's reply is prompt, albeit rattled. "My heart-mother 
  taught them to me." Now, though, she has solidly fastened her gaze upon her 
  still-gloved hands -- another proof against observing too much of the 
  closeness between her mistress and her mistress's suitor -- and her fingers 
  seemingly of their own accord still fidget with one another.

"I am not agitating you, am I?" Siba asks, with some measure of concern. 
  "Unduly upsetting you with my questions?"

"No, Atman!" This, too, is a prompt reply, and steadier now. Faanshi risks a 
  peek up at the other woman, and then a very cautious peek sideways. When all 
  she sees are the backs of Kiera's wings, the shudra keeps her gaze up on 
  Siba once more.

Just wings, Faanshi. NOthing goign on over there, interesting. Nope.

Siba is trying very hard not to smile. Unfortunately, it's only working part 
  of the time. "Good. I would not wish to upset you, Faanshi. But now, I must 
  go to my studies, so that I may properly and truthfully answer questions as 
  the Atar requires of me." She rises, smoothing down her robes. "I often 
  meditate in the garden, and if you wish, I may also be found within-- simply 
  inquire for me by name, and if my duties do not call, I will come."

Faanshi looks up further as Siba rises, and gratefully inclines her head. "I 
  will remember, Atman Siba, and thank you...!"

[End log.]