"A Quiet Farewell"

Log Date:
	6/6/99, 6/7/99

Log Cast:
	Sevilen, Faanshi

Log Intro:
	Faanshi's life is about to change... again.
	With the reading by the Herald StormBearer of a letter from
Kiera Khalida, the young halfbreed healer has received permission to journey
to the new nation of Avalon in the company of Thomas Murako. Not even a
stern questioning from Nefer Maat al'Samar as to the whereabouts and
motivations of her mistress Kiera can really dim Faanshi's anxious,
hopeful anticipation of what this journey will mean for her. Asked to return
to Atesh-Gah to prepare herself for the journey, the shudra has passed a
restless night, and when the morning comes it turns out that among the 
various things she must do before meeting Thomas Murako and his company is
a farewell to one of the few in Atesh-Gah who have shown her friendship...

----------
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. 
     You notice, through the thick greenery of bushes and ferns, a small 
  clearing to the north.
Contents:
Sevilen
Obvious exits:
Courtyard <C>

Sevilen watches as you bustle along, curious.

Bustling... aye, that word might actually for once be aptly applied to the 
  movements of Faanshi. For the last half an hour she has hastened 
  about Atesh-Gah, doing what tasks she needs to prepare herself for her 
  impending journey to Avalon in the company of Thomas Murako and his 
  Mongrels. She does not own many possessions; what few precious items she 
  calls her own, including a book of herbal lore bestowed upon her by her 
  now-dead great-aunt and barely decipherable to her fledgling reading skills, 
  are nestled in a woven-string bag at her side. Messages have been sent to 
  those who need to know of her departure... and now, nervousness creating a 
  lump in her throat, the girl takes a moment to steal into the garden that 
  surrounds the fountain, wishing to impress the sight of its graceful form 
  upon her memory to sustain her for the time she'll be gone.

Sevilen stands before the fountain, gently rolling a white-petaled blossom 
  between two fingers. His poise and posture are pensive but still, the cant 
  of his shoulders and back gives away his attention tot he world around him. 
  His head tilts a bit, and his silvered voice lilts upon the air to you, 
  "Namaste." His head completes a half-turn, revealing his profile to your 
  sight.

A soft gasp behind her veil, and Faanshi pauses then, to drop a small curtsey 
  and bob her head down over her own hands. "Namaste, Imphadi Sevilen, forgive 
  my disturbing you," she murmurs in mild alarm.

Gentle words upon gentle tones swift upon you to caress your ears, "It is 
  nothing, healer. I am joyed to see you once again. To see you well and able 
  is a gift greater than sunrise." His emerald eyes shift from you to his 
  hand, and he lets the blossom fall to the waters. "You...interrupt nothing, 
  in truth."

Wait. Deeply startled, Faanshi glances over her shoulder, and then peeks left 
  and right before turning her gaze more or less back to the young vaisya 
  before her. In the brief instant her eyes are visible, surprise can be 
  glimpsed in them, and even more palpable is the surprise in her voice as she 
  blurts, "You... are pleased to see _me_, imphadi?"

With a nod, Sevilen confirms your question. His hand lowers to let his 
  fingertips stroke the surface of the water lightly, dallying for a time 
  before he speaks once more, "I am, healer. To see you well is a great relief 
  to me, but to know you are leaving brings meleancholy, though I know such 
  things do not last forever."

Beginning to redden deeply behind the protective curtain of her veil, the 
  maiden absorbs this, finding the offered words as deeply bemusing as many of 
  the events both large and small which have marked her last hand or so of 
  days. "I will... return in a month's time," she ventures then, in awkward 
  and flustered tones. "But I do not understand, imphadi... why... why do you 
  say such things to me...?"

"I speak my heart." Explains the soft voice, as his hand lifts from the 
  waters, turning over slowly to let the droplets collect together before 
  falling back into the fountin waters. "I would say that which I feel, and 
  make note of such things as I perceive." His head turns, emerald gaze fixing 
  upon you. "Why do you travel?"

Taking refuge in a question for which she can provide a fairly easy answer, 
  the maiden pulls in a breath behind her veil and then replies, "I need to 
  practice my healing... and the Mongrels that follow Thomas Murako have no 
  healer." Faanshi then pauses a moment, and appends wistfully, "Imphadi 
  Thomas... seems to think that perhaps they will not mind that I am a 
  halfbreed and that I am not a very good healer yet."

With a nod, he speaks once more. "Your courage and determination shall see you 
  through, I am inclined to believe. You may find them less mindful of your 
  appearance and station than others. And, in some ways....more so." His hands 
  fold before him, as he turns to face you completely now, unblinking stare 
  leveled at you.

Faanshi stands there, her head demurely bowed, her gold-hued hands curled 
  about the strap of the woven bag that hangs from her small shoulder. Though 
  she does not look up, she does nod tinily as she murmurs, "They may look at 
  me and... not like me, because they will see a Varati." All she allows into 
  her tone is a stoic resignation, even as the memory of the winged child with 
  hatred in her eyes flashes across her mind.

Sevilen speaks softly. "They may find you desirable because you are not. They 
  may seek your company because you are unlike others, and view your breeding 
  as something that brings you closer to them. Indeed, they may regard you as 
  superior for it, more like themselves."

"Perhaps," comes Faanshi's uncertain whisper. If that is doubt lurking under 
  her quiet little voice, she does not permit it to be vocalized in her words. 
  Maybe, just maybe, Murako's people will look upon her with favor; she can 
  hope so, for a small number of folk she has met within Haven have already 
  done so. But Faanshi is keenly conscious of her station and her place, and 
  so she works to bury any expectations of how the Mongrels of Avalon will 
  receive her. "I... hope only that they will allow me to try to heal them, if 
  they are sick, or hurt," she concludes.

Slowly nodding, Sevilen speaks again. "Look to the future with raised eyes, 
  and see the light of dawn for the promise it presents. Do not let fears 
  color all things, and never let the breath of hops die in your breast."

Dawn... the time of Ushas. If there is something in a large and oft-frightening 
  world that Faanshi understands, it is the Holy Mother of the Khalid, and the 
  time of day which is sacred to Her. She ventures a ready nod of her own, 
  murmuring reverently, "Blessed is the time of the Mother of the Khalid... I 
  will try, Imphadi Sevilen, to do as you bid." Then, considering, the maiden 
  appends shyly, "I should not tarry..."

Sevilen inclines his head, of all things, and responds. "Yes. May yuor path be 
  safe, your way clear, and the time of kindness to you."

Most of her face is hidden, but behind her blue veil, Faanshi smiles to 
  herself, just a bit. She drops a small curtsey to the young vaisya, replying 
  gravely, "May you walk in the warmth of the grace of the Amir-al, Imphadi 
  Sevilen... and thank you for your compassion to this humble shudra." With 
  that, then, the halfbreed girl turns to slip out of the garden, nervousness 
  fluttering within her, and perhaps just a bit of anticipation; as she goes, 
  though, she peeks back at Sevilen, and a fleeting glimpse might be caught of 
  her timid leaf-colored eyes.

Sevilen hasn't moved. Not a whit. His eyes continue to adress the form of the 
  girl, his hands held still before him. His kind smile remains as before, 
  with a sincere hope of promise and warmth.

"Thank you," comes the tiniest of whispers, but heartfelt-sounding, from 
  somewhere behind Faanshi's silken veil. One more bob of her covered head... 
  and then, on soft-hastening feet, the maiden is gone.

[End log.]