by Reiter
“Do not worry, child,” K’Torru replied. “It is well on its way!”
The key to growth is the introduction of higher dimensions of consciousness into our awareness.
Lao Tzu
(III)
(Rims Time: XI-4804.21)
Guysorla lay on her back, her body glistening as she tried to recover her breath. Her body still had the lingering tingling of euphoria and she gazed upon the ceiling, wondering what color it had been painted.
“Do they call that ‘rose’ here?” she thought. “Or is it ‘rouge’? I know it isn’t ‘fuscia’... that’s the wrong direction.” The Duchess slowly closed her eyes, put her hand over her face, and shook her head in disbelief.
“Here it comes,” Vaiyorl whispered.
“I am a horrible woman!” she proclaimed and her husband broke into laughter. “I am! Just look at me!”
“I am,” her husband growled, drawing a very curious look from his wife.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“Oh, I am sated,” he chuckled as he puffed up his pillow. He put his head back down and he sighed. “It’s just that I am so... very... sated.” Vaiyorl lay on his side, gazing at his wife who seemed to be glowing in the twilight. “But it would seem that I am the only one satisfied with the events of the past few moments.”
“Quite numerous, my lord, and most pleasing,” Guysorla smiled. “And despite the utter paradise you have created for your very grateful wife... her mind has drifted.” The smile slowly faded from her lovely face and her eyes returned to the ceiling.
“I should really know better,” Vaiyorl admitted. “I have been through Imperial Conditioning after all.”
“That was a simple course on etiquette,” she chuckled her argument.
“Is that all they did to you?!” Vaiyorl barked, lifting his head from the pillow. Guysorla put her hand on his face and pushed him away.
“No, don’t make me laugh. I am a horrible woman. I have four children! Four! Four beautiful and wonderful children and where am I? I am here with you. Doing things... that we have not done in a while.”
“And for good reason,” Vaiyorl agreed. “Your voice carries!”
Guysorla gasped, putting her hands over mouth. She said something, but Vaiyorl could not hear her through the self-imposed gag.
“What?” he asked, lifting her hands away.
“Do you think the neighbors heard us?”
“Which ones?” he asked, and Guysorla looked into his eyes. He was on the brink of cackling and his wife smacked him with her pillow to send him on his way.
“You’re no help at all!” she hissed.
“I think, biologically speaking, there is sufficient grounds for argumentation. But I would like to draw attention to another point.”
“What point?”
“You said ‘four’.”
Guysorla frowned, not understanding what her husband could mean, but it eventually dawned on her. She had only given birth to three children. She looked at Vaiyorl and all she could find in his eyes was approval.
“I wasn’t sure that was ever going to happen,” Vaiyorl shared.
“Do you doubt that I love Valian?”
“No, not in the least... and I would be shocked if he had any doubt. It’s just sometimes it looks as if you put yourself in a position where you must choose between him and Yorlson.”
“Like you’ve chosen?” Guysorla asked, receiving exactly the sort of glare she expected. “Because it seems that you’ve made a choice.”
“The choice I’ve made is not one between them, Guysorla,” Vaiyorl admitted, sitting up in bed. It was clear that he was troubled by what he was saying and Guysorla moved to be closer to him. “It was not that kind of decision.”
“What kind of decision does a father make about his son that has that look on your face?”
“Perhaps it is a decision many fathers refuse to make,” Vaiyorl considered. “But I will say to you this much: my son went to challenge the Test Tower and our first born was the one who returned.”
The two sat in silence together. Several times it appeared that Guysorla was about to speak, but she could not find the words which would alleviate the stabbing pain they both had felt and were still feeling.
“When he turned his back on Valian,” she whispered.
“When he turned his back on the person who had saved him more than once,” Vaiyorl stated. “Though admittedly, one of those saves had been because Valian had urged him on.”
“Yes,” Guysorla agreed. “That first jump! But you’re right. Valian saved him. When I think of the horrors of that damn tower... it’s one of the things that gives me comfort.”
“The Test Tower?”
“The fact that they survived it,” she clarified.
“I wish I could say the same,” Vaiyorl sighed as he leaned back against the headboard. “Because I don’t consider that ‘they’ survived it. I think Valian triumphed, and did it so well that three other people were benefited into a victory. The only trouble with that is, Valian left the house almost directly after we did.”
“What?!” Guysorla gasped. “Why?”
“Probably for his piece of mind!” Vaiyorl asserted. “We were still in Imperial Space when Yorlson dismissed Jurzo Frill.”
“His Lead Guard? But why?”
“Perhaps because the man spoke against something Yorlson wanted to do. In short, he told our son that he thought it was a bad notion to pursue wizardry over sorcery.”
Guysorla steeled herself against the words that she knew were to follow. She had thought the matter addressed and dismissed coming away from her conversations with her first born child. Either he had given her a false impression, or she had heard what she wanted to hear and took it to heart as truth. Either way, she felt she was not going to like what she was about to receive.
“I spoke with J’Gayda on the eve before our departure,” Vaiyorl stated.
“How is your old master?”
“Older, yet still hopeful that he will be able to teach our son,” Vaiyorl relayed. “He has already been in contact with him and waits to hear from his Praeceptor in a few years.”
“But Yorlson will be done with his Praeceptor in a few days!”
“Yorlson will be. But it is Pirion he has been speaking with. When I went to our youngest about it, he jumped so quickly to make the point that he would be proud to continue the family tradition that he couldn’t say why his brother has instead taken up the pursuits of wizardry.”
“Oh, my husband,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around the man.
“I told Pirion that if he truly wanted to carry on our best tradition, then he would do as his father did and find his own path.”
“Good words,” Guysorla said softly.
“I don’t think I reached him,” he shared. “One son turns away because he seeks power and station. Another son locks down hard and is possibly denying himself.”
“Possibly, sweetheart. Only possibly. You know the sort of mind Pirion has. Sorcery would be blessed to receive him.”
“There is truth to that,” Vaiyorl said, getting up from the bed. He put on his robe and started for the balcony doors. “Just as there is truth to the fact that the path Yorlson walks is all his own.”
“Husband, I must ask you something, but I do not wish to anger you, or make you think that I-”
“Ask your question, wife,” he directed. “Only a fool of a man would mistake your love for anything else.”
“And my husband is no fool,” she smiled before her eyes grew stern. “Vaiyorl, did you set up our son to fail by making him your Proxy?”
“If he fails in the position, it is a circumstance beyond my thoughts and wishes. The simplest truth is... the only way Valian can help him, the way he did on that tower, is if he is not in charge of the household. As my Proxy, Valian would have had to deal with the Jhormynn name and his brother. Now, his focus is the Jhormynn name which includes his brother.”
“I see the wisdom in it... but you are still using him.”
“My father warned me about marrying a woman smarter than me,” Vaiyorl said before walking out onto the patio. “Quybron, I am outside,” he announced.
“I am not smarter than you, husband,” Guysorla whispered as she curled up on her husband’s pillow. “Nor do I wish to be. And perhaps, when you return, I will tell you that I understand your decisions... and support them. Because you are using him, and yet you kept from saying that I am using Valian to protect a person that hates him. I claim to love him, but that didn’t sway my hand for a single moment.”
The Duchess closed her eyes and applied a discipline of EnerJa that she was barely proficient in using. The Duke would come back to a very warm bed.
** b *** t *** o *** r **
“And just remember,” Seranos said, getting up from the floor. “... without proper footing, or whatever base you are moving from, it’s a wasted movement. You’d probably be better off combing your hair.”
“I will definitely try to keep that in mind, Master,” Shonsatah smiled up at the man before giving him a bow.
Looking again in his eyes, neither of them could maintain their smiles. It was a sorrowful thing: being dismissed as a Praeceptor before the end of one’s contract. It was done, from time to time, when a Phytos was accepted under another Praeceptor that was of a greater rank or capability. This was not the case with Seranos Pruntrill and the Jhormynn Estate.
Shonsatah had even tried to consign the man into her service, but that was a maneuver her brother had anticipated. His separation notice had been strongly and most efficiently worded. The Duke’s Proxy had taken well to his administrative authority.
“This is insanity,” Shonsatah declared. “I don’t care what you and Valian have to say, I am going to send word to my parents!”
“Valian?” Seranos inquired. “What did he have to say regarding this?”
“Well, he does not know specifically of this incident,” Shonsatah clarified. “Not yet. But he told me that I should remain quiet when Yorlson commits to these mindless acts.”
“I suppose that it is fortunate that you came to me privately with an alternative means of dismissal,” Seranos stated. “Because your brother is right. And if you truly wish to give Valian every advantage available to him, you will do as he has instructed you to do. Yorlson suffers from short-sightedness, and that is usually the very thread which, when pulled, unravels many a household.”
“Are you talking about Father’s enemies?” Shonsatah asked.
“Young Mistress Shonsatah, you are old enough to realize that they are the enemies of your family, not just one man within it. But yes, that is the category to which I refer. They are still about. And to my recollection, they have yet to be identified. The Duke’s works have kept them at bay for a few years, but they are still out there... and with the Duke and Duchess away, I fear this house is quite vulnerable,” he said, looking out of the window. His transport had finally arrived. “... far too many points in motion... almost impossible to protect.
“What you must do, my lady,” Seranos said, turning to look at the teenage girl. “You must remain vigilant. Be cautious of any new friendships, especially those of the opposite sex. This enemy has learned that this family is resilient, and hard to beat in a straight-up fight. Cuts to the heart will be the next logical step. Remain close to your brothers, all of them... even if you must present a false face. Do this for your family, milady.. and keep this close.” Seranos handed her a slender bracelet of xelectrium and gemstone. The metal had the look of gold, but was much harder and very much lighter; the gemstones were white crystals. “Twist those stones with my name in your head, and I will hear you. I cannot say when I will arrive, but you can know that I am on my way.”
“Thank you, Master Seranos... for everything,” Shonsatah said before embracing the man.
“Damn near removes the sting of a formal dismissal,” he thought, hugging her back. But he stepped back, bowed to her and turned to board his transport. She watched as he walked and was still waving when he turned to look at her one last time. “Bah! What sting?!”
Shonsatah took to heart every word the Grandmaster Praeceptor had said... and decided to apply his foresight to her next move. She waited for a few moments. Seranos’ transport had to be out of her eyes and ears before she would even begin her trek. The moment she turned away from the window, she walked quickly and her newly arrived hand maiden, Tacita, fell in behind her.
The two made their way from one end of the estate to the other and Tacita, under the urging of her Mistress, opened the double doors of the study without knocking.
“Brother,” Shonsatah said, looking down at her hands as if contemplating if her nails needed to be painted another color. “I can see why you wanted to be rid of the old relic, but why a formal dis-” Shonsatah’s eyes came up and she found herself to be actually surprised.
With their lips just parting, an agitated Yorlson turned away from a young woman the Duke’s daughter did not recognize.
“Dismissal,” Shonsatah finished before stammering. “My apologies, Brother... I did not know you were... entertaining a guest.” Shonsatah made a clockwise quarter-turn and set her eyes to the floor. “I do not think I have been introduced to this most fetching lady.”
“An oversight easily corrected, Young Mistress Shonsatah,” the woman said, placing a patting hand on Yorlson’s chest as she walked toward the young woman who had just entered the room.
Olpria Tunique knew she had a part to play in things, but that did not mean she had to like it. Yorlson’s kisses were so hard and forced, like his lips were making some sort of militaristic claim to her face. It was difficult to act as if she enjoyed them, and this interruption was a blessing in disguise.
“She seems to be so much the child,” Olpria observed as she walked, not forgetting to move in such a way that her form-fitting dress would accentuate the curves of her body. It was important that she maintained Yorlson’s attention and interest. “Not at all what I told to expect. Or is she that good of an actress?” She took a very soft hold of Shonsatah’s chin, lifting and turning the girl’s head. “No, she’s actually trembling. Poor little thing... and what dazzling bronze eyes,” she thought gazing through her own light green eyes at the Duke’s daughter.
“I am Olpria Tunique, sub-administrator for the Arch Mage Godantran.”
Shonsatah slowly turned to face the woman, remembering everything her mother had taught her on how to present herself when she did not want to reveal her true perspective or demeanor. “And what a bold sub-administrator you are,” she thought. “Just because you can kiss my brother’s lips does not mean you are entitled to touch me! Mother, you are so right. I haven’t even asked her a question and I think I know more about her than Yorlson does.
“Shonsatah Jhormynn,” the young woman curtsied, looking down at the floor as she did. When she came up, her eyes stopped at the taller woman’s ample chest.
“Yes, dear,” Olpria thought, grinning at the young girl. “... one day yours, too, will come!”
“Welcome to our home,” Shonsatah managed to finish.
“I’ve been made to feel quite at home, Young Mistress. Thank you,” Olpria replied, deciding to have a play on words. As she expected, Shonsatah blushed, gathered up her dress, and started for the door.
“Forgive the intrusion, Brother,” Shonsatah said, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears.
“Well, you are here, Sister,” Yorlson sighed. “What has moved you so that you seek me out?”
Tacita had already opened the door for Shonsatah to exit the room, but the young woman stopped before the door and spoke over her shoulder. “Seranos Pruntrill. Was it necessary to... embarrass him with a formal dismissal?”
“The man is a sham!”
“That may be, but he is an embraced friend of our father, Yorlson. I fear that if you do not make an explanation to father it will be the grounds for an un
pleasant misunderstanding.”
“So I need explain everything I do to Father now?”
“Of course not,” Shonsatah said, her voice rife with concern. She turned to look her brother in the eyes. “Your position is your own, and rightfully so. But what does it say when you do that to the man responsible for our father becoming the man he is? That alone should afford the Praeceptor, sham or not, a measure of discretion.”
Yorlson looked down at the floor, considering what his sister had said... and he could find no fault with her reasoning. He nodded before looking at her again. “You have a very strong point, Sister. I will rescind the statement at once.”
“Do so only if it is your will, my lord,” Shonsatah said, giving another curtsy.
“In honor of the memory of our father,” Yorlson said, waving her off.
“Your Grace,” Shonsatah said before turning and taking her leave.
“Smart little girl,” Olpria remarked after the door had closed.
“Coached little girl,” Yorlson hissed as he walked over to his father’s desk.
“Who do you think would do such a thing?”
“It would seem that Seranos’ transport was delayed in its departure,” Yorlson advised.
“Crafty old bastard,” Olpria smiled.
“Indeed,” Yorlson huffed, entering in the necessary commands. He was relieved to see that his notice had not yet been posted to the Imperial Cortex. “But I will have my words with the supposed legendary Seranos Pruntrill at another time.”
“The moment you are confirmed a WiZarD,” Olpria said in an airy breath. “Which reminds me, I must be about my Master’s business.”
Half-chasing after the comely woman, Yorlson asked, “So soon?”
Olpria stopped and turned. She smiled at the young man. “Oh, my sweet and savory lord, there will be time for our passions... as I intend to request that I be named to Godantran’s staff while he engages in your instruction.”
“Do you think he will allow such a request?”
“How can he refuse the wishes of the Duke?”
“How indeed?” Yorlson whispered as he watched the woman walk away.
