May I?

Sheltered Flame Keep - Receiving Hall


 * ''Newer than the walls that surround the keep, the receiving hall is part of a largely reconstructed edifice of quarried white marble veined with black.
 * Standing on either side of the majestic polished biinwood entrance doors one finds a pair of well-maintained stone sculptures of soldiers in plate mail, standing atop white marble pedestals. Gleaming chandeliers hang suspended from the biinwood beams that brace the ceiling above. Long, narrow black and gray runner carpets extend the length of the hall.''

The late night calls forth more lantern light than usual with the briskness of the air that blows about outside. As the doors to the hall open, they seem to blow a bit more than air into it's warmth. The noblewoman could easily been seen as that of a freelander for the velvets are missing; in their place, the clothes of a laborer in cottons. Soot still marring the hem of the black cotton skirt as Celeste is shown in by the guards. Trepidation brings the woman's hands to her blonde hair, fidgeting as she brushes back the light locks from her face.

Late is the hour indeed, for such hours see the keep's Duchess also void of velvet, save for the slippers upon her feet. Rather than being clad in attire fit for the fields, however, she's robed in a snowy chemise - an almost ethereal vision of ghostly white against the darkness of the hall, paced with a halo of seraphite blue. "Your letter proceeds you little more than a half day's time, cousin," softly greets Rowena from one of the door maws - quite possibly that leading into the Grand Room. There's a pause and a rustle of velvet over cotton as she shrugs a greater width of cloak over her bared collar bones and lifts a stern chin and knowing eye to the meandering glance of the herald who let her in. "The timing, of course, is my fault to be had. I've been... elsewhere."

Celeste wraps an arm about her waist, bowing to the duchess. "Thank you for seeing me all the same, Duchess Rowena. Please forgive my attire - we have been working nonstop upon the manor house." The blonde offers a quick glance up at the duchess, the woman's trepidation still remaining as she rights herself. "I have a present for you from an old friend." At this statement, she reaches into a bag at her waist; a small doll pulling away from the leather recesses. The velvet doll is faded and worn in some spots, but holds a feeling of being well loved. Celeste holds out the toy towards the other Mikin. "Krisa wanted to make sure that I delivered this to you personally."

The tattered, button-eyed gaze of the offered doll stills the healer's tested temperament into a more docile form. She tilts her head gently in imitation of the limper form and something akin to a look of awe crosses her features. "... I do wish I could have seen her once more, but... she returns it. Did she say why?" Shuffling forward over the chill of black marble, Rowena extends both hands to gingerly reclaim the relic. "It comes from a time and place long gone in our history."

"She wanted you to know that she's not forgotten you, your grace." Celeste hands over the doll, her hand reaching up to fidget with her hair again. "Crown's Refuge... I wish you could have seen it, cousin. A city that dispels the hate between Light and Dark," comments the noblewoman. "Did you meet the Archmage as well?" Soot and dirt darkening the blonde locks of the baroness, waiting for the duchess's answer with the quiet vigil of a guard.

Lost for a moment or two more in memories of the doll, Rowena cradles it carefully in her palms. A sigh puts an eventual end to the reverie and she glances between Celeste and the other soul in the hall. "The only mage remotely near our vicinity, so I was told, was slain in a battle for his heart was truly wicked. I never saw the wretch's face and if I had, I'd be more inclined to spit in it than converse," comes a belatedly curt reply and she nods her head towards the fire-flanked door of the grand chamber. "Now the city itself... that is something I would have liked to see again. It was little more than a network of crudely built homesteads with a guard wall when I set foot on the premises."

The baroness hangs her head, staring at the worn floors of the receiving hall. "She's not like that," begins Celeste... her voice faltering. The blonde woman taking a moment to compose her thoughts before beginning anew. "Duchess, Crown's Refuge is ruled by two now. One blessed by Light, and the other touched by Shadow. Together, they rule fairly, and truly care for the township they have built. It is no longer small homesteads, but a thriving city." Celeste lowers her hands to her side; wearied flesh worn from years of carrying a weapon rather than silks. "They need the Light here more than ever... touched or not, but especially touched. Krisa was not evil, yet she was touched by shadow... and turned such a curse into a gift to save the people of Crown's Refuge."

"This much I did learn, then," Rowena murmurs, letting the doll rest now in just one hand as she turns to retreat back to the secluded safety within the walls, leaving Celeste to follow at will. "She opened my eyes just as she did your own. And so I left the doll, as a promise that while Fastheld's law stood firm against the Shadow, there would remain at least one kind eye over the Aegis. My understanding I have already given. My compassion to those who earned it via their own humanity. It is not purely a matter of Shadow and Light in my view, but rather of dusk and dawn - do the intentions in their hearts bring the darkness of demise or the birth of good things? This is a scale on which both the Sun's holy and the Shade's accursed are equally held accountable. It is the scale on which each of us is judged."

A pause and the duchess looks over her shoulder, coming to halt beneath the glare of a torch. Her pupils shrink away from the light, causing the green to flare more savagely. "Which brings me to acknowledge this idea of yours... "

Celeste follows quietly behind the duchess, not wishing to miss a single word. Her own sea-green eyes brighten with tears at hearing the duchess's words, her attention raptly upon the woman... which gives her steps pause at hearing that final statement. The noblewoman's breath catche in her throat, anticipation and fear upon her fair features.

"You look upon me as though I were to cast you from this house," Rowena muses quietly, expression softening in favor of easing the fright written over Celeste's brow. "Reality sways in your favor, cousin," she watches Celeste with equal intensity while a hand bears the door latch open. "It is indeed the best interests of House Mikin to see the Light thrive in our society. And so, any soul who is willing to place their faith in it should be free to do so. Come. Let me hear more of it."

Celeste breathes a sigh of relief, "you mirror my own thoughts, cousin." The baroness steps forward to continue following the duchess. "Duke Lomasa felt that you would be angry with my... behavior of late. Even drawing such comparisons to Lady Diana."

A sharp laugh is drawn from Rowena's throat as the mongoose pair slips away into the vaulted chamber and reverberates into the abyssal shadows of the ceiling. Continuing northward down the center of the blackened space, Rowena measures her steps by the guidance of the ring's glow. "The Duke Lomasa would be sorely mistaken to equate your desire to educate with the more suspiciously promiscuous adventures of the former Lady Lomasa. What chip is it that he carries upon his shoulder I do so wonder... but will not inquire."

"I believe that - though he denies it - his jaunt beyond the Aegis has spurred him on to be the man he wishes to be," replies Celeste. "He does not remind me of the jovial soul that I met so long ago in Hawk's Aerie. Though, I pray to the Light that he finds what will bring him happiness." The baroness's own measured steps follow behind the duchess. "As to the chapel, I believe there is a message that began in the Refuge... and I wish to bring that here as well. As you said, it is a matter of dusk and dawn, rather than brilliance or darkness."

The inkyness of black shifts with alarming conrast to the starkness of white as they pass between the Grand Room and the Inner Room. Seeing that it is only occupied by the vigilant scourge of stone, Rowena continues to pass calmly through. "A message wholely appropriate if not already in progress, considering the personage that sits upon the throne," She mumbles, attention briefly distracted by the itch plaguing her chin. "Such an undertaking must require strict record keeping and a keen eye, of course. Those of shadow's touch who refute the mark of the cheek will be treated in accordance of the law regardless what roof they huddle beneath. Only those bearing the mark will be permitted... I presume." Arching a brow knowingly in Celeste's direction, Rowena waits at the next door.

"We will not be a refuge for those who refuse to follow the Emperor's law, but a means to teach touched and untouched alike to leave in tolerance than hate," explains Celeste. The baroness only pauses in her pursuit when the duchess halts. "The Mark is a symbol, and has it's meaning." The baroness looks down towards her hands again. "I've even placed such a Mark within the chapel to remind those that darken its door, why they have sought wisdom there."

"So it is that you've considered this through and through... " Rowena muses mostly to herself as she toys with another latch. The door creaks open, offering entry into a room equally chilled for lack of a lit hearth. The majority of the castle's residents did not have need for warmth as it were. "This school of sorts... it will need an adequate guard. With every controversial idea comes the opportunity for protest. And, given the nature of this 'cult of the dragon' which seems to have circulated about... be careful whom you trust to enter your doors."

"Master Wolfsbane has been watching over us as of late. I trust the man implicitly," notes the baroness. "And though we seem a motley band, just the idea of hope has already garnered many who would do what they can to help. Even our cousin, Lord Alin, has offered this evening to remain there." Celeste reaches up a hand to brush back an errant lock, shivering at the chilled rooms. "I trust in those who seek the truth, and would fight for such... touched or untouched. Together it does not matter," finishes the blonde woman, pride sneaking into her voice at the mention of the group of followers.

"Be careful," Rowena warns evenly as she enters the meeting hall and steps aside for Celeste to follow, "cousin, that you do not preach the Shadow as holding equal reverence with the Light. Only that the latter is yet accessible in nature to those in possession of the former." She brushes past table and chair, making headway for the hearth of interest. "There are some who are easily led astray by the misunderstanding of words."

"As a wise man once told me: one who stands too close to either is surely to be lost. No, it is our intention to teach that in the Light, one must not dwell in Shadow and be cast out from salvation." Celeste lowers her gaze to the floor to make sure not to trip or stumble behind the duchess. "In the Shadow, life can be perverted... but only in the Shadow itself, not the person who by happenstance who was borne as such. They must learn and be taught that Light has not forsaken them by error of birth."

"Then I approve," Rowena grants, coming to stand before the sleeping hearth and reaches for a poker. Doll in one hand, poker in the other, she leans against the cool marble and wags both items in Celeste's direction. One of floppy velvet, the other of menacing iron. "Now come... you must riddle my head with the tales I'm certain you've the urge to tell of life beyond the Aegis."

''Return to Season 5 (2007)