"The Motives of Slavery"

Log Date:
	2/21/99

Log Cast:
	Kiera, Faanshi, Murako

Log Intro:
	The war is over; the Children of Fire have defeated the Children
of Air. Aftermaths and consequences resonate throughout both races, ranging
from the loss of so many lives in the doom of Lycenae to the coming marriage
of Khalid Atar to the Empyrean noblewoman Thalia Tritonides.
	But for one young halfbreed shudra, the results of the war are
far simpler. The ending of the battles means, to Faanshi, that she
has gone to the city of Haven to live in Atesh-Gah with her heart-mother
Ulima, her mistress Kiera, and Kiera's naraki Murako. Faanshi is ignorant of 
most of what the war has wrought, overwhelmed by her first ride upon a
wyvern, and fearful of the city she has heard Khalid Atar claim turns his 
people into candala -- and unwilling to expose herself to its touch if it 
would bring the ire of Khalid down upon her beloved old kinswoman's head.
Moreover, Faanshi is deeply worried by Ulima's increasingly fragile 
condition, and so in Atesh-Gah the shudra girl has occupied herself with
seeing to the venerable Ushasti woman's comfort while studiously practicing
the small meditations Ulima teaches her to give her control over her magic.
To further Faanshi's distress, Imphada Kiera has shown very little 
inclination to spend much time within Atesh-Gah's walls -- and Faanshi frets
to herself, for although it does not seem her place to question the actions
of her mistress, still, she keenly misses Kiera's presence.
	In the meantime, although it lightens Faanshi's heart to see that
Kiera's Mongrel naraki Murako has gained surety and confidence in his
bearing, seeming to begin to heal from the tortures the Atarvani had visited
upon him... Faanshi cannot help but notice that some of what seems to
trouble Imphada Kiera involves the Mongrel man in her keeping...

*===========================< In Character Time >==========================*
             Time of day:  Night
          Date on Aether:  Tuesday, March 27, 3904.
           Year on Earth:  1504 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Last Quarter
                  Season:  Early Spring
                 Weather:  Sleet
             Temperature:  Chilly
*==========================================================================*

West Wing - Atesh-Gah - Haven(#2129RL)
     Following the same design as the rest of Atesh-Gah, the long hallway is 
  done in shades of polished white, delicate gold, and ethereal sky-blue. Here 
  and there doors dot the otherwise unblemished magnificence of the simple 
  design; each one leading to the room of some important personage in 
  Atesh-Gah's roster. An elegantly decorated archway frames the east end of 
  the hallway and a window braced with iron filligree looks out over the 
  embassy's garden.
Contents:
Kiera
Obvious exits:
Suites <S>  Hallway <H>

The balcony outside the hallway serves as a frequent landing space for Kiera, 
  when she resides in the room within, that is hers. This particular 
  late-afternoon's bright blue sky is momentarily blocked out by the fanfare 
  of wings, and Kiera's slight hand niggles at the door, to enter. Because 
  she's not been here in so long, and because the Varati have been at war, 
  with the Empyreans, someone has locked the door. Tap, she taps. Tap tap tap. 
  Tap tap tap. Nothing. More tapping has a similar result. So... A sharp 
  breeze eddies thorugh the cracks in the door, between stone and the hinge, 
  and that wind swoops down the hall and into the room where someone directed 
  you, told you it belonged to Kiera. If you are drawn out, then you will see 
  Kiera's face, at that transparent window, and one hand, tapping on it.

Faanshi, indeed, is drawn out -- with a little gasp as that attendant breeze 
  ruffles her sari and her blue veils. With Ulima quietly resting by a warm 
  fire, the young shudra emerges from her mistress's quarters, looking up and 
  down the hall until she catches sight of Kiera at the balcony door.

The Kiera-Sight jounces up and down slightly, as if she sees Faanshi's 
  appearance, and is pleased.

Within that chamber, Murako sits at a chair, working intently at something 
  with a small metal object. His eyes are focused and intent as he twists the 
  device back and forth and then blows on it. Suddenly a whisp of wind stirs 
  his hair and causes him to look back towards its source -- the hallway? 
  Taptaptap. Taptaptap. Arching an eyebrow, he sets his project down and rises 
  from the chair with a soft grating sound. "What is that, Faanshi?" He calls 
  after the shudra as she departs. His voice seems to have gained some 
  strength in the last weeks. The naraki is no longer so melancholy and 
  distant. A few steps take him towards the doorframe, and he peers out into 
  the darkened corridor.

"Imphada Kiera's breeze," the shudra says softly. As she heads out into the 
  hall, Murako peering behind her, Kiera's form is indeed spotted. Faanshi 
  picks up the speed of her stride, till her sandaled feet carry her to the 
  door and she can let the winged halfbreed in. "Good evening," she greets her.

First, Kiera casts a dubious glance toward the ceiling, as if silently asking 
  it to remain -there-, where it is. Not to come crashing down to crush her, 
  and break her wings and pin her in darkness and chill. Then Kiera steps in, 
  smiles up to Faanshi, "Thank you, Faanshi." A nod then, and an attentive 
  gaze rides over Murako, before Kiera speaks again, "How is Ulima? Did you 
  have healers look at her, Faanshi?" Kiera pauses, to await the answer before 
  she heads in.

Murako's body is shrouded in shadow, the light streaming in and illuminating 
  his rear, yet leaving the rest dark, "Imphada Kiera?" He speaks lowly 
  beneath his breath as he spies his halfbreed master upon the balcony. 
  Stepping more fully from the room, he directs himself in the path of the 
  shudra, and closer, "Imphada..." his voice breaks the pause between Kiera's 
  and Faanshi's words, head bowing to the woman who stands before him, 
  "..allow me to get you something to take the chill of the outside off? Some 
  tea perhaps?" Without hestiation he offers her something to make her visit 
  more comfortable.

"Nabi Jhonan says that much of what ails her is age," the girl in the veil 
  says, mostly relievedly, though there is a trace of plaintiveness in her 
  tone. "The march through the winter was hard on her, but it will be good for 
  her to rest here... in this place." And Faanshi pauses, then, as Murako 
  joins them.

Despite Murako's intentions to ease Kiera, that woman only seems more twitchy, 
  and she casts another look at Murako. Silent, as if thinking, then thinking 
  it best not to respond. She swallows, slants her look back to Faanshi, then 
  shifts her gaze and poise entirely, to look at the door to her room. 
  Standing open, left open, as if in invitation, that door beckons, and Kiera 
  paces toward it, curls her wings around her more and slips within.

Kiera opens the door and steps into Kiera's Room.
Kiera has left.

You open the door and step into the Kiera's Room.
Kiera's Room - Atesh-Gah - Haven(#1242RJn)
      The muted opulence of this room is positively simple in nature when 
  compared to the rest of Atesh-Gah. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all 
  made of smooth, pale, polished stone. While not huge by any standards, there 
  is more than ample space for movement (even that of a winged form) around 
  the furniture placed within. A large, four-posted bed with a canopy above 
  sits directly across from the door with a night table to its left. There is 
  another small table of golden-varnished wood to the left of the door, 
  bearing an assortment of washing implements. A small window, too small for a 
  human form to fit through, looks out to the courtyard. 
Contents:
Kiera
Ulima
Obvious exits:
Out <O>

Murako enters from the Hallway.
Murako has arrived.

Faanshi quietly follows Kiera into her room, though as soon as she is within, 
  she steps noiselessly to the divan upon which Ulima is sleeping, an 
  embroidered blanket tucked about her aged form.

Murako follows along behind the two women, his hands hung at his sides. As he 
  enters the chamber, he immediately moves towards the spot where his 
  'project' lies on the table. Fiddling with the metal instrument, he slips it 
  into a sack, along with what appears to be a length of wood, perhaps eight 
  or nine inches long.

"What is it that you do, Murako?" Kiera asks, so she need not examine Ulima, 
  or look upon the expression on Faanshi's face, as the aged woman wanes. 
  Kiera does not move to the fire; she does not step more than three feet into 
  the room. Just far enough to let the others by. And she keeps the door open.

Faanshi's face is veiled as always, so her expression is a bit difficult to 
  read. The shudra leans over her heart-mother for a moment, tucking the 
  blanket about her more snugly, before turning her green gaze back to her 
  mistress and the naraki.

"Hrm?" Murako glances quickly up from the table towards his master. It seemed 
  as if for a moment he was in a stupor. "Oh, nothing Imphada." He holds the 
  sack in his hand, "Merely a carving I have been working on." He doesn't seem 
  quick to give up the nature of his work, but then again, he isn't hiding it, 
  "Something to pass my spare moments and avoid idleness." One would notice 
  that he does not directly gaze at Kiera, rather somewhere near her feet. The 
  bag remains at his side, clutched between his fingers.

A few feathers curl off the top of Kiera's wings, where the feathers are 
  smallest, and where she tends to shed, if she's nervous or anxious. Kiera 
  draws a breath and lets it go again, as if she opts not to ask Murako of hsi 
  project. She instead looks at Faanshi, then glances around the room. One of 
  the posssessions she had brought with the caravan slumps against the wall. A 
  sack. To that, Kiera pads, veering toward the middle of the room, then only 
  at the last moment, angling over to the wall again. She picks up the sack, 
  looks within, then reties the neck with the string around it. "This is for 
  Drisana, Murako. She is a young girl who lives here. I would like you to 
  bring this to her." The sack, should you look, contains Empyrean feathers of 
  all lengths, all sizes. "Do not bend it, or what is inside, will break."

Faanshi straightens up to her full height, trying to look composed now, and 
  she asks earnestly, "Is there anything I can do for you tonight, Imphada 
  Kiera...?"

Murako nods once as Kiera speaks to him, "Yes, Imphada. Where might I find 
  her?" The sack in his hand, he slides beneath his haik. Taking a few steps 
  in the direction of the sack, he reaches down to examine it for a moment. 
  The end of the bag is opened just a bit, and as he peers, the Mongrel can 
  see the hoarde of Empyrean feathers within. His eyes widen, just a touch, 
  and he just /stares/ at the contents with a mix of bewilderment and 
  confusion. Though the other two continue to carry on their conversation, the 
  naraki seems stricken by this sight. Far off cue, he stammers out, 
  "Im..Imphada? Should ..I .." ..a pause as he straightens, not yet lifting 
  the sack, " ...should I bring this to her now?"

"You should care for the wise-woman, Faanshi. But if you become weary, and she 
  sleeps, you may have another come within, and watch over her. You should not 
  spend all your time here, Faanshi. I would like to show you Haven. Or..." 
  Kiera eyes Murako again, then, then decides against it. "Or if you cannot 
  find me, any of the Agni-Haider will go with you. To see it." Kiera has not 
  been blind to Murako's reaction, and she eyes him again. "You should find 
  out who she is, by asking the others. They will know. And when you find her, 
  then you can bring her that. Tell her that it is not my first kill, as I had 
  promised, because those I killed, I could not collect from. I was still 
  busy. I got these, later."

Faanshi's gaze flashes back to Ulima's slumbering form; leave Ulima be, and go 
  out into the wonders of this mighty city? The possibility is rather 
  staggering for her to contemplate. But if Kiera thinks it will be all right, 
  well... Faanshi merely bobs her head, and then peers with shy curiosity at 
  the sack Murako holds.

Murako swallows once, looking back towards the sack, laden heavy with the 
  feathers of fallen Empyreans, "Yes, Imphada." He obeys, yet there is a 
  weight in his voice which is somber, saddened, and disturbed all at the same 
  time. Wrapping his hands around the edge of the bag, he closes it tightly so 
  that his eyes will not have to rest upon the contents. Immediately, he 
  straightens and turns himself to look at his master once again, "I will do 
  as you have asked." A pause, now his eyes fall up a little higher on Kiera's 
  body, almost meeting her gaze, "Imphada? If I might ask. How many 
  Empyreans... did you kill during the war?" His voice is hesitant, yet 
  vaguely bold.

The feathers on Kiera's wings slide over one another, neatly, testiment to the 
  superb attention Kiera pays them in grooming, and she appears slimmer with 
  her wings completely folded, her attention directed in that avian-unblinking 
  regard on Murako. First she speaks of something different, "When we are 
  alone, we three, I am Kiera, and you may look upon me. I would that this be 
  the situation everywhere, but you two may not be safe, if you treat me with 
  what others feel is disrespect. I do not see it that way, but the other way. 
  The Khalid-Atar understands that about me, and he allows me to see him, 
  fully, without bowing my head. When we are alone, together." That's probably 
  the last time Kiera will say this, and she moves on to the other question, 
  "I have brought storms upon them, from other areas, and I have helped ground 
  their troops, so that the Varati soldiers could kill them. I have made them 
  wet and cold and likely helped disease take many of their lives. I have 
  enabled Varati armies to approach those of Empyreans, undetected, for the 
  Varati marched under brutal storms that the Empyreans could not brave. I 
  have directly killed all those who would threaten the Khalid-Atar, and those 
  who appeared to be soldiers, who left Lyceanae. I have disabled many, so 
  they could not fly, and they were burnt by the volcano, or cut apart by 
  Varati swords. I cannot answer your question, Murako."

Faanshi pulls in a soft breath, looking for a place to sit nearby, then. Her 
  eyes flicker at Kiera's granting them of freedoms at least in private; she 
  might smile behind her veil, but her mouth is of course veiled. As she 
  settles down in a near-noiseless whisper of her simple cottons and linens, 
  taking in Kiera's accountings of her actions in the war, her gaze turns 
  solemn.

"I understand, Imphada." Murako's words are distant, and there is a sense of 
  hesitation. For even if Kiera's granting of some measure of equality in 
  private gave him some hope, the realizations of so many deaths strikes him 
  as a hammer upon a cold, hard anvil and resonates in his brain. Closing his 
  eyes for just the briefest of instants, he raises his hand to rub his 
  temple. Deep within he tries to supress something, flashes like lighting in 
  his head, voices that call from the past and present. Suddenly, he snaps out 
  of it, but finds himself grasping the nearest chair for support, "I 
  understand. It shall be done as you request." Perhaps there is more to say, 
  more to speak on this topic, and so much he cannot say, let alone remember. 
  Now, his gaze rests firmly upon his master, unafraid of what he might 
  behold. And she can see beneath his gaze a terrible toll indeed.

Kiera's voice gentles, as she steadily returns Murako's look, "I have told 
  you, when you spoke of your enemies, that the Varati people are not your 
  enemy, but that I was, if you were of the Empyreans, Murako." This is 
  important to her, to remind him, "I did not lie." But Kiera does not explain 
  her enemity with the winged race. She does not justify herself. It was, 
  after all, war. And she followed orders precisely.

Faanshi's eyes turn a bit more plaintive over the top of her veil, as she 
  takes all of this in, trying to turn Kiera's and Murako's words around in 
  her mind... to make sense of them. Most if not all of the war has made very 
  little sense to her, but if she's learned anything since Hashim tugged her 
  out of his vara and off to war with the Varati hosts, it is how to listen 
  and learn. Her gaze shifts quietly back and forth between the face of Kiera, 
  and the face of the young man who has become her slave.

Murako hestitates for a long moment, his hand grasping the chair a bit too 
  tightly. Faanshi still stands there, a young woman he hardly knows, but who 
  has become his family -- all he now calls sacred. Blinking once, he 
  straightens again and looks to Kiera, strong, in the face of what must be 
  unknown hardship. A soft sigh, "I do not know who the enemy is anymore, 
  Imphada." A long pause as he averts his eyes instictively, "However, that is 
  irrelevant to my tasks and service to you and the Varati people. My personal 
  demons are not yours to bear. I will not let them get in the way of my 
  duties. I am ..sorry."

For about the seventy-eighth time now, Kiera reconsiders the wisdom of that 
  impulsive decisison she made, to have a man named Thomas tatooed with a 
  brown hawk, instead of Khalid-Atar's symbol. For about the seventy-eighth 
  time, Kiera re-examines the logic that justified it. And she draws a breath, 
  looks over to Faanshi with an odd expression, half-frustrated, 
  half-pleading, before Kiera addresses her attention to Murako once more. "I 
  do not think I am a good owner, Murako, and I only still learn to be a good 
  Varati. Would you like to go to a different owner than me?" The word still 
  tastes bad in Kiera's mouth.

Should she be listening to all of this? Uncomfortable, Faanshi takes a few 
  steps away from the others, before finally sinking down silently to sit on 
  the floor near the edge of Ulima's divan, her legs tucked under her, feet to 
  her right. Her gaze shyly drops down to her hands.

"I do not know the wisdom of that decision, Imphada." Murako answers very 
  plainly, "It is clear that Khalid Atar gave you charge over me because he 
  wished to test your ability to grasp the concepts of /being/ a Varati. He 
  gave you responsibility over one he knew would not be easy to handle." A 
  pause as he looks back at Kiera, "If I might be so bold, you do not seem 
  like the sort to quit the field when things are difficult. To have to tell 
  Khalid Atar you had to let another have me. From what I have learned of the 
  Amir-Al in recent weeks, is that his people love him. He is fair, and cruel 
  at times. As leaders are wont to be. He loves his people." Faanshi seems to 
  be a nice thing to stare at for a second as he continues, "I know he loves 
  his daughter and would not wish to see any harm come to her. I may not be 
  the finest slave in the Varati Kingdoms, Imphada, but have you ever stopped 
  to consider why Khalid Atar gave me to you?" Arching a brow, he finishes 
  with brown eyes on his master.

Actually, he did not. And in fact, Kiera hasn't even mentioned the episode to 
  him, like she told him she would, because she's discombobulated about a 
  -different- situation involving the Khalid-Atar and his Future Plans, one of 
  which Kiera patently disapproves. So Murako's words actually see a softening 
  of Kiera's features, with a rare and brief humour. "The Khalid-Atar told me 
  to handle the situation, with you, because I was distressed by it, Murako. 
  He gave me no further instruction. But you have observed what is true; the 
  Khalid-Atar is a fine ruler, a fine leader, and he cares for his chosen 
  people." Further, "I am not his daughter, but he calls me 'daughter of his 
  heart', much as Faanshi calls Ulima her 'heart-mother'. I am a halfbreed. 
  The Khalid-Atar is not, and did not father me." Kiera looks again at 
  Faanshi. Perhaps this discussion is wearing on her, on the aged Ulima. So... 
  Kiera draws a breath and tries to pull this to a close, "You asked me to 
  have you tortured, for you to become a slave. Now you are a slave. Would you 
  prefer a master," Kiera doesn't like that word either, "Other than me, 
  Murako?"

Wearing upon her? No. Faanshi can safely say that the discussion is not 
  wearing upon her, for all that she is not entirely certain she should be 
  hearing it. Kind as Kiera has been to her, the young shudra is still not 
  entirely certain of her place in the world that has dramatically altered 
  around her. She peeks up again, just to show that she is listening and 
  attentive. On the divan beside her, Ulima sleeps on, her breathing a soft 
  and barely audible rasping in the room.

Murako's lip curls at the corner just a touch, perhaps a frown, or some other 
  expression, "I am your propety, Imphada. It is not my right to make a 
  decision on continuing service with you. You are a fair master, and have 
  treated me with kindess." His one hand gestures towards Faanshi and Ulima, 
  who rests soundly, "If you release me, I only ask that you not do so because 
  your conscience tells you to do it. I know you seek to learn the ways of the 
  Varati. This, who I am, is part of that life." Shaking his head slowly, he 
  takes a step forward, "I cannot ask you to change who you are, anymore than 
  you can ask me to be rid of the demons which plague me. Do not place me in a 
  position where I must justify the pangs of guilt which stab at you. This 
  simple life I relish. These simple tasks. Do not think I hate you, or what 
  you have given me. For, more than you can know, it is a relief."

This is getting too complicated, and a tension headache threatens to pounce 
  upon Kiera, if she doesn't deal with either these words, this lingering 
  sense of frustration, or these confining walls that just might collapse upon 
  her. "I am not guilty. I have done what you asked, and that was your choice, 
  Murako. *I* would have killed you." She mentioned that before, didn't she? 
  No matter. "And I took you as a slave to me, because ...." Kiera pauses to 
  sort through words, to again look at Faanshi, with whom she spoke, prior to 
  fetchign Thomas back, prior to Kiera's shock at his transformation, "Because 
  I was afraid you would be broken by someone, Murako, who never saw how 
  beautiful your spirit was before. It was before I saw you again, after the 
  Atarvani were done with you, that I made that choice. Now... You are broken, 
  I think. So it would not matter. I cannot help you learn, because I do not 
  know what you are, and though I could understand what you were, and I could 
  have helped that you, with time, this one... I do not and cannot." Make any 
  sense?

"The spirit is indomitable, Imphada." Murako answers softly, his gaze 
  softening just a touch. "Men can be broken, enslaved, and put to chains, 
  shown horrors the likes of which mine eyes have seen, yet we live on. We 
  breathe and we continue. I made that choice because of ..." ..he pauses and 
  releases the chair he grasps, realizing that his hand has nearly lost 
  circulation, "...some men deserve their fates. Please, I beg you not to 
  judge me for a spirit that is proud. You see pride as a strength, yet there 
  is a pride which is far more terrible than any resistance you could 
  immagine. A pride that stems arrogance and ignorance. A pride that kills 
  men." He pauses, his ire having been raised slightly, and that realization 
  has come upon him. Gathering himself, he looks down at the ground, "I do not 
  wish to be a source of heartache and displeasure to you, Imphada Kiera. If 
  you truly feel as if you cannot have me, then I will ask you to send me to 
  another. You are a beautiful creature, and I would not see you unhappy at my 
  expense." His voice trails off into silence.

Faanshi meets Kiera's glance with her own sober green one, and at last, made 
  more and more uneasy by the edginess between the other two in the room, she 
  puts in, "Perhap... if you, Imph... Kiera" -- and a slim golden hand 
  gestures at her winged mistress-- "would not wish to bind him, and you, 
  Murako" -- her hand comes round to gesture to the naraki -- "would not wish 
  to leave her... perhaps... at least in private... you can be friends and... 
  let the eyes of men see what is proper, as needed...?" Her voice comes out 
  of her very shy, but quite concerned.

Definately, Kiera is about to get a pounding headache. She twitches her wings, 
  sending a few more small feathers curling into the air, dancing in the 
  small, ever-present breeze that accompanies Kiera. And then the winged 
  halfbreed looks to the other halfbreed, and the prone woman behind her. "I 
  sleep on the roof of the stable, or within, if it rains and the Queen is not 
  here, Faanshi." Murako is silently included in that, with the briefest of 
  glances, "If you need me, you may call to me, there, or leave a message with 
  the Agni-Haider who watch the gate." Kiera heard Faanshi's suggestion, and 
  whatever she thinks is not revealed, but hidden behind flat-hazel eyes, a 
  wary, weary mask. "I would like to know, if it is possible, if the Ulima's 
  sickness becomes worse." Kiera's jaw twitches just slightly, then she nods 
  to Faanshi and looks again up to Murako. Anything else?

Faanshi blows out a breath, and then only nods to Kiera, nothing more, 
  troubled that she could not ease the tension in the room.

Murako's eyes remain upon the ground as Kiera seeks to flee the conversation 
  with him. For a second, his gaze flits over towards Faanshi and he takes her 
  words in. Strong hands fall to his sides, as if in defeat. "If you are 
  needed, I will be certain to rouse you, Imphada." Answering as a slave 
  should his master. The tension in this place is now perceptible, yet the 
  Mongrel seems surprisingly relaxed. His voice never raised, though clearly 
  the topic was of some meaning to him. Until Kiera has left, he will not 
  speak.

'Flee' is right. Though Kiera maintains a fairly impassive demeanor, she's 
  edgy, unhappy, displeased. With nothing more to say, nothing more said, she 
  turns and closes the distance between her and the door with quick, soft 
  steps. As it was never closed, Kiera slips through, and the Graisha does not 
  think to close it behind her, but rather she heads directly for the balcony 
  and the freedom of flight, beyond.
Kiera opens the door and steps out into the Hallway of Atesh-Gah.
Kiera has left.

Murako turns away from the door and leans against the chair which his hand 
  found only moments earlier, "I should not remain in Kiera's possession, 
  Faanshi." The Mongrel speaks soft words, "I can see the pain I am causing 
  her. The confusion and the frustration. It is pointless for me to force her 
  to enslave, when it is clearly not in her nature."

"I... saw it... the frustation," Faanshi says very softly, her gaze averted, 
  her voice troubled. "I wish that I could help, but you both spoke... of many 
  things... that are beyond my ken, at least for now..."

Murako sighs softly, "Kiera is a proud woman, Faanshi. Proud and indomitable. 
  She saw that same spirit in me, and was drawn to me because of it. Yet, she 
  does not know the kind of man I am or what my heart tells me is right and 
  wrong. This life, this fate, was set upon me by mine own hand. How can I 
  remove it so swiftly and promise myself respite?" A pause as he grimmaces, 
  "Yet, how can I continue to torture Kiera when it is clearly not her wish to 
  have a slave, but an equal? How can I give her something I am no longer 
  capable of?" Turning around, he looks at you squarely, "You have been so 
  good to me, Faanshi. You and Ulima. You have given me a new start on life. 
  Given me a second chance at salvation. For that, I will always owe you a 
  debt of thanks."

Faanshi sits up a bit, listening intently to the young man, though she cannot 
  manage to look at him for more than a few seconds at a time. But at his 
  final words she does peek up again, and her gaze stays up. Her veil hides 
  her lower face, but her eyes brighten, and she softly replies, "I have only 
  acted as Ulima has always taught me... but because it praises her, I thank 
  you in return for those words."

He takes a step closer, "Then even if it be Ulima's teachings, I give praise." 
  Murako bends down ever so slightly, his eyes never leaving your face, even 
  if you refuse to look at him, "I spoke once of the evils of this world. Of 
  the evils that men can do, in the name of religion, their country, and their 
  god. In these last few weeks, I have seen a kindness, a selflessness that I 
  never thought was capable in others. I see that kindness in you, Faanshi." 
  Raising one hand, he moves as if to touch you, yet, pauses almost self 
  conciously, knowing that it would not be proper. He looks suddenly towards 
  the old woman who lies ill, "Ulima is reaching the end of her days. Even now 
  I can see this. You are the inheritor of her knowledge and skill. Put that 
  to good use. Spread the light for all to see." Pausing, he rises once again, 
  his shadow elipsing you, "I hope to see you again, though I fear it may not 
  be for sometime. Tell Kiera that I am sorry." ...

Faanshi's eyes flash their gaze round to Ulima's heavily slumbering form, and 
  then up again to the naraki, undisguised alarm in their depths. Then, 
  slowly, she rises up off the floor, coming up to her full height. Taller 
  than Kiera though she might be, still, there is a much quieter feel to her 
  presence that might almost lead one to believe that it was the winged 
  imphada who was the larger of the two. "If you must go..." The shudra's 
  voice falters. "I... will tell her what you wish..."

"Thank you." Murako says softly, and then without hesitation, he turns towards 
  the door to exit. His sandals sound upon the floor with a hollow resonance. 
  Soon, he has opened it and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you alone 
  in the chamber with the sleeping woman, and a horrible feeling that 
  something bad is brewing.

[End log.]