"Z" Is Not For Philanthropy

Imperial Thoroughfare - Interdistrict Carriage Hub 


 * The green-leafed branches of ancient biinwood trees twist and arch to form a canopy over the Imperial Thoroughfare, which is a narrow, uncobbled path in this region south of the Palace District.


 * A long, sprawling wood-and-timber building is tucked into a dense clump of dark-needled evergreens here. Gracious in proportion if not in line, it is visible only in glimpses over the high stone wall that surrounds its well-kept grounds or through the high fluted iron gates presided over by half-attentive guards.


 * It is a mildly warm night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. The skies are perfectly clear. All six moons - the cerulean orb of Herald, the crimson Dayhunter, verdant green Stormwatcher, the rich violet of the Serpent's eye and the gray baubles known as Torch I and II - wax brightly in the sky, neatly aligned in a row that portends unspeakable might in the hands of Shadow-Touched mages. Legend holds that just such an alignment accompanied the great Cataclysm ages ago.

Rayk Nillu quickly swings out of Windstalker's saddle, landing evenly next to the animal, and tugging the reins, draws near to Celeste. "I was not aware I was missing, Lady Mikin." He replies with a mischevious smile tugging at his lower lip, "But as to answer your questions, I had just left Nillu's Lode yesterday, went to visit the Earl and his wife... two more of my cousins." Frowning at the thought, he remarks, "You know, I really have too many cousins. But I digress, are you well yourself?" He asks softly, from where the two nobles stand near the entrance to the carriage stop.

Celeste grins, sea green eyes twinkling. The two standing not far from the carriage platform, and it seems the woman may have been headed in that direction. "I've been trying to plan a gala for my cousin to celebrate his countship," offers the Mikin. "Course, being a former scourge, I was not trained in the niceties of what a woman should or should not do in such a matter," she remarks with an amused laugh.

A single carriage pulls in to the covered Interdistrict platform, and the driver hops down to hold open the door. He reaches out a hand, offering it to the Lady who accepts, slipping her white gloved hand into his. She descends quickly, dropping onto the platform with a swish of her skirts about her ankles. "Thank you, and good evening, sir," she offers in a polite tone to the driver who is already back in his seat and urging the horse to depart. The lady herself turns to march steadfastly out from platform leading to other districts, trading it for that of the Forest District. Propriety forces her to slow her steps as she spots others lingering, and keeps her back several paces to wait patiently for a carriage while not appearing to eavesdrop.

Rayk Nillu nods slowly, "If you require any help, financial or otherwise, let me know, I'm more then willing to help. Not much else do I have to occupy my time." He laughs slightly with her, "I think that can be excused, perhaps you just need a lesson or two with your kinswoman, Lady Sophia?" He glances up at the arriving carriage and gives the young woman a polite nod as she approaches Celeste and himself, "Evening, Milady."

Celeste grimaces," I may need to take you offer of guards. There may /still/ be trouble for Night's Edge. Do you believe your father will still be willing to offer his support," questions the Mikin. One can see a bit of strain about her sea green eyes as they draw closer, the bags slowly beginning to return beneath her eyes. At the address of the noblewoman, the Mikin falters to a stop and looking to the woman in question. She dips her head to the Zahir, "Light's greetings, my lady."

"Good evening my Lord, my Lady," Voreyn offers to the others in a somewhat polite if detached tone, as if she were used to greeting nobility quite often. She clasps her hands before her and continues to wait for a carriage, frowning slightly as she glances to the left and right as if one might appear at any moment. "I beg pardon, I do not wish to interrupt, but do you happen to know when the next carriage will be by?"

All three of the Cool Carriage Club are standing at or by the platform, presumably waiting for a carriage to show up and complete their membership.

Rayk Nillu slowly shakes his head in response to Voreyn's question, "I'm sorry, My Lady, I cannot say. I normally travel by horse, so I do not know." Giving Windstalker a gentle pat, he returns his attention to Celeste with a tight smile, with concern pressing into his features, "Are you okay? Is your safety in danger?" He mulls his options quietly for a moment, "Unfortunately, the Duke has assigned most of the House Guard to Nillu's Lode and Hawk's Aerie given the recent attempts on his life." Sighing softly, he lets his hazel eyes rove over Celeste's face for a moment before continuing, "But I will send my contingent of House Guards from the Manor to Night's Edge, if you so wish it."

"I will speak with Count Varal as well," states Celeste wearily. "I hate to request their return, but it is not my health I fear for but the chapel." She glances to the Zahir at the question. "I'm not sure, my lady. Usually they are rather regular but with the re-emergence of Light's Reach, they've been taxed a bit of late." She reaches up to brush the hair back from her face. "I'm Lady Celeste Mikin, Viscountess of Night's Edge. It seems rather rude of me to keep speaking as though, well..." Her voice falters, but she's quick to wave a hand towards the Nillu. "This is Lord Rayk Nillu of Hawk's Aerie," she offers.

Out of the Interdistrict Carriage Stop comes Lyddmull Seamel, leading a small bay mare by her reins. His pace is slow and unhurried, his eyes cast towards the ground in deep thought as he makes his way out onto the road.

The Zahir's thin lips pull tight into what looks to be a smile, although it is a mere ghost of one that disappears as quickly as it arrived. "Well met and Light keep, Lord Nillu and Lady Mikin. I am Duchess Voreyn Zahir, and pleased to make your acquaintances. I implore you, however, not to cease your private conversation for may sake. I take it as no slight." With that pleasant semi-dismissal, the woman takes to glancing off to her right, and she squints a bit and tilts her head as if catching sight or sound. "I should warn you, though, that I think a carriage is approaching."

Rayk Nillu's eyebrows furrow a bit in response, eyeing Celeste for a moment but nods, "As you wish." Upon being introduced, he bows slightly in defference to the Zahir Noblewoman, "Actually, I'm of no townships these days, just a wandered." He smiles a bit but pulls the reins on Windstalker for a second, "Well, if a carriage is here, I do not mean to impede your travels, milady Celeste, if you are to leave." Turning back towards Celeste, with a slight nod.

Celeste turns fully to the Zahir at hearing the woman's name, "you are the matriarch of House Zahir, yes?" Though it is posed as a question, the words seem to come more as a statement. "I... I was hoping that we would meet at some time, your grace. Could I intrude upon you one evening?" Yep, the forthright Mikin has not lost her bluntness.

Lyddmull Seamel pauses in his slow trek to turn and swing himself into the saddle. As he does so, he notices the noble trio finally and smiles a bit, nudging the trotter gently in their direction.

Voreyn blinks quickly and gazes at Celeste with a thoughtful expression. "I am, my Lady, just she," she replies carefully, and pauses once more before addressing the woman's request. "My schedule is flexible, and I suppose I can be free for the remainder of the evening. I am headed to Fanghill for the night, if that suits you." Her attention is caught briefly by the approaching nobleman, but her sharp green gaze flickers back to the Mikin quickly.

Falling silent as the conversation moves from him to Voreyn, Rayk Nillu purses his lips together and listens quietly. Rubbing the nose of his horse, he keeps a silent watch as the two noblewomen chat.

Celeste glances towards Lyddmull, dipping her head in greeting. Her own gaze returns to the Zahir, nibbling her lower lip. "I promise to be brief, but I believe we may have a mutual goal," states the Mikin baldly. "If you would like to share a carriage to Fanghill, then perhaps we could speak then? I do not wish to intrude upon your time any longer than necessary, and..." She pauses, "it should not take long, my lady. Unless I somehow offend," she offers with a quirk of a smile.

Lyddmull Seamel brings Cleo to a halt nearby the other nobles and dismounts again, leading her yet closer. Seeing the conversation in progress, he offers a nod of greeting to those present but keeps silent, looking from one speaker to another to gain his bearings.

"Mm, I doubt it would take long either way, my Lady, but I would prefer to continue my journey to Fanghill rather than loiter about out-of-doors more than I have to." The Zahir bustles forward a few steps and the carriage of which she spoke earlier rounds a bend and approaches the platform. She glances among those gathered and quirks an eyebrow, directing her next question to both Celeste and Rayk. "My Lord and Lady, as you were waiting first, perhaps you can decide who will be taking advantage of this next carriage."

Rayk Nillu holds his hands up in mock surrender, "It is all yours and Lady Mikin's, I am not a traveling companion, simply a meandering traveler." He tight-lips a smile to ther gathered noblewomen and nobleman before swinging back into Windstalker's saddle gently. Gently urging the reings, he retreats Windstalker slowly to give the nobles more room without his horse in the mix.

"Thank you, Lord Rayk," states Celeste sincerely. She seems about to say more but at the man's retreat, she only shakes her head and looks to the approaching Seamel. "Lord Lyddmull, would you wish to join us? That is, if the duchess does not mind the companionship?"

The Seamel offers a quick nod to the receding Nillu before turning to Celeste, his voice incredulous as he speaks. "I have no objection my lady, but her Grace seems in some haste," he says, glancing over to the Zahir with a polite nod.

The Duchess purses her lips in thought, watching the carriage for a moment as it rolls in to stop. The driver descends and eyes the company for a moment before holding open the door for those who should like to alight. With one glance between the Mikin and the Seamel, Voreyn nods curtly. "It is your choice, Lady," she murmurs as she lifts the hem of her skirts and steps lightly up into the carriage, leaving the others to mull about and decide what they wish to do.

Inside the Carriage

Celeste Mikin slips quickly into the carriage and leans back against the cushions. At the confines the carriage, the Mikin seems to have acquired a sense of urgency about her appearance and words. "Your Grace, have you ever heard of my name? Or a place called Night's Edge," she asks bluntly.

The Seamel chuckles quietly at Celeste's introductory question, smiling as he settles into the carriage after a few words with the driver.

Voreyn is seated in the center of a cushioned bench as if to silently force the others to seat themselves across from rather than beside her. She adjust her gloves carefully, tugging them tightly over her fingers and smoothing the ruffled edges against her wrist. "Night's Edge is that little monastery in the midst of renovation or somesuch, is it not? Oddly playing home to some of the Marked of our Empire," she replies in a somewhat bored tone. "Your name I have heard a time or two, though in passing."

Celeste grimaces at the recount. "Actually, we /are/ a small chapel that seeks to see that the Imperial Law and teachings of the Light are provided to /all/ of Fastheld. That it is without prejudice that a Marked man or woman can come and feel, well, even welcomed to learn of what they've been denied for so long," explains the Mikin, a hopeful twinkle to her sea-green eyes at her own explanation and seeming to seek the woman's thoughts of the matter.

Lyddmull's face is rather blank during the Zahir's reply but he turns quickly to Celeste as she speaks, a faint smile coming to his face.

"I am aware, Lady, of what is required of one in your position. There is no need for your zeal; I am not interested in picking at your establishment's faults." Voreyn is finally finished with her gloves, and she glances up to the two, looking from the Seamel toward the Mikin as she smooths her skirts across her knees. "I am sure said Marked leave your hospitality a great deal enlightened to go forth and serve as useful members of society." Still she does not raise the question of where the conversation is headed, and instead turns to gaze out of the window to watch the passing scenery.

"Your Grace, if I may speak so boldly, someone intends on trying to destroy that peace," states Celeste bluntly. The words escaping her lips before allowed any means to soften or pay -whimsical- tones to their meaning. "They believe that such a place is heresy because, well, because they refuse to accept the truth for blindness. I fear they may have the power to shut such a place down unless I were able to procure the support of those more powerful." She catches her lower lip, boldly stampeding forward, heart pounding in her chest. "I was never raised an orator, nor a noblewoman... but as a scourge, your grace. I've been able to cement an alliance with those who stand with the mages, and I thought..." She glances up to meet the duchess's eyes, there is no pride in the sea-green of the Mikin's, only searching.

The Seamel's brow furrows slightly as the noblewoman's solliloquy comes to a halt, but in a barely noticeable motion, the Seamel gives Celeste's arm a reassuring squeeze before turning back to face Voreyn, still silent.

Voreyn continues to gaze out of the window, pulling back the curtain a bit as they pass by a recognizable building. "That sounds like a matter of Imperial decree, Lady, and little to do with House Zahir itself." She pauses again and purses her lips before continuing, "I admire your ruthlessness for your cause, my Lady, and I understand that in your eyes if you presented to the Crown evidence that the Houses themselves stood behind you, then perhaps the thoughts of one of their own would be dismissed. Unfortunately, our politics are not built to offer comfort to those with selfless ideals." She settles back in her seat once more and clasps her hands in her lap, looking back to Celeste with an impassive gaze. "My suggestion to you, Lady, is to meet directly with this person. If they are working for the Crown - as I suspect they are by your reference to power - then it is with them you will have to deal. I do not think you are going to get much support from any individual House; one of our standings with the Crown is that they keep out of our matters and we keep out of theirs."

Celeste sighs, leaning back to the cushions. "Such actions is where the Church began to falter before. I have spoken to him... and explained the chapel thoroughly. This attack does not ring of his doing. Your grace," replies the Mikin softly. "I fight for those who have never had a voice until this moment. They've cowered and lined up like cattle when a scourge incites fear in their hearts. With such actions, it only strengthens the hold of the shadow within them, because they are without kindness. If they shut down Night's Edge, they will be without a voice once more, a step backwards. How soon then will it be before we see the golden armor and shadowscourges?"

Lyddmull Seamel's eyes settle on Celeste in confusion, his brow puckering with worry. He bites his lip, however, keeping his questions to himself as he listens to the conversation.

"It does not ring of his doing? Then you have spoken to the wrong person entirely. You should speak directly to the one whose doing this is." With a sigh, Voreyn reaches up to touch her forehead briefly before resting her hand back in her lap once more. "What you do not seem to understand, however, my Lady, is that the Houses do not have voices in such matters either. Our arrangement with the Crown was carefully established to keep instances such as these from devolving into a calamity. I will play no part in any social activism on this scale, because it is not my cause and because it is not my place to overrule any of those working directly for the Crown. Now if this were a matter happening in Zahir territory, then my voice would carry weight. Even if you managed to get the majority of the Houses in line with you, it would only be so that they and theirs would receive a reprimand for breaking the code of their reign, and you would be frowned on - if not punished - for your little coup. I can only warn you, Viscountess, that you are walking a very thin line here. I would warn you that your efforts in this case would only earn you further enmity should they come to the ears of the person who is working against you. I would encourage you to follow your tenet of peace by making peace with this person. Right now, you are seeking to make war."

"If I believe that the person in question could see beyond their own avarice, I would," sighs Celeste, dejectedly. "But you are right, I do not wish to bring reprimand to any of the Houses. Thank you for your advice, your grace. I believe that instead of speaking to the person, I shall instead speak to the leader of the Order itself. If he should still hold such a title, that is. This is foolish and little more than an abuse of power," states the Mikin, her voice regaining its normal timber. "Light guide and protect you, Duchess Zahir."

The Seamel's face has begun to slide into a tight frown, his brow sliding downwards over his eyes a bit as Celeste speaks again. Pushing the irritation to the back of his mind, however, he regards the Zahir with a fairly neutral expression. "Thank you for your time, your Grace," he says quietly, doing his best to keep his tone polite.

In normal circumstances, it might be taken as a slight this dismissal of her personage, as evidenced by the tight-lipped expression that crosses over Voreyn's features. However, it seems she is not to make issue of it this night. "Good evening, and Light keep you, Viscountess Mikin, Lord Seamel." Regally, she rises carefully from her seat, stooping to lean out and accept the hand of the driver. She departs gracefully and without a backward glance.

''Return to Season 6 (2007)