Solo Two Suns Shining

[Alses]

Timestamp: 74th Day of Summer, 514 A.V.
Location: Elysium Hall

OOCApproved by the splendid Kismet!

The afternoon - bright and sunny and with nary a cloud in the sky to disturb the perfect bowl of blue that lay over the celestial city - was perfect, and Elysium Hall drowsed under the plentiful summer light. The skyglass and marble were both buttery gold, gilded by sun and inclination both, looking as though Xyna had poured out her glittering treasury onto the mansion.

The gardens were the bright and verdant green of all growing things, positively radiant with health, the flower-beds bursting with blooms in their hundreds; the Hall drowned in the scent of roses. Great billows of dusky perfume lay across the white ribbon of the drive, testament to Alses' fondness and affinity for the flowers, the whole of it a perfect setting in a perfect city.

Elysium Hall was a little slice of urban arcadia, a stately barque of perfection lazily drifting through slow-as-molasses time, and Alses was enjoying every tick of a rare afternoon off in her garden, sprawled bonelessly in a low silver chair spirited out of her morning room and soaking up the rays as only an Ethaefal could.

There was a bottle – unopened – of fine Bluevein Blood wine, one of Alses' favourite imports from Riverfall, on a spindly table next to her, courtesy of the ever-thoughtful Silver. He was shaping up to be quite a find, even in the short time since she'd retained him, and she made a lazy mental note to pen another thank-you to Mr. Secretary – perhaps with a little gift to underline her appreciation.

The bottle he'd spirited up from Alses' belongings and discreetly placed – without so much as a word to disturb her - rested perfectly close at hand, ready at a moment's notice for her to feast on and enjoy as she relaxed utterly in the arcadia of the Hall's grounds. Her mind was blissfully blank and at peace with the world, and even the recent invasion of her personal sanctum sanctorum had faded into irrelevance under the cocooning comfort of Syna's gaze.

The low drone of the bees, deliriously happy amongst the roses, provided a soothing underpinning for all the other sounds of a summer garden, and Alses was so relaxed that she didn't even bother to open her eyes or sit up when the serene aura of Silver intruded on her immediate surroundings, his shoes very quiet even on the gravel as he shimmered onto the little circle of marble flags that – one day, according to Alses' designs and worked on in her scant spare time – would have some sort of pergola or folly arrangement built around it.

“Your grace?” his liquidly smooth tones insinuated themselves into her consciousness, sliding in with the next batch of idle thoughts rather than disrupting her calm equilibrium.

What came next, though, was sufficient to jerk Alses up out of her chair in one fluid, panicked movement, a jolting shock that chased all idle thoughts from her head and sent her mind into freewheeling overdrive, doing cartwheels on the edge of the catastrophe curve, her mental balance entirely upset, turned on its head, almost.

“Your grace, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the Day Lady is here.”

Bolt upright, all thoughts of rest and relaxation diving for the emergency exits in her brain, Alses gaped like a fish for a few ticks at her immaculate butler. “Here?”

It came out as a hoarse squeak, but to his credit, Silver didn't crack a smile. “Yes, your grace. Her ladyship and a brace of Shinya. I've taken the liberty of escorting her to the library, and her guards are joining our own little security force.”

Alses nodded absently, already collecting herself. “Good. Good,” she murmured distractedly, smoothing her clothes down with one nervous hand. “Um, we don't suppose she gave a reason for her visit? There's not a crisis, is there?” her voice took on a sudden nervous edge as the thought occurred to her.

“Nothing beyond that she wished to talk to you, your grace, I'm sorry.”

Alses nodded sharply, jerkily. “Do we look all right?” she asked suddenly, irrationally afraid. That, at least, brought a small smile out of her inflappable butler as he glided effortlessly along beside her.

“Radiant, m'lady,” he answered, powering discreetly ahead to open the doors for her. Even though Alses had always felt that the Hall was too big, it seemed to take no time at all for her to traverse its grand rooms and hallways to arrive at the heart of the house, where the Day Lady was waiting – hopefully not too impatiently.

The smell of books and the glitter of gilt lettering provided some comfort, the familiar surrounds helping to calm the butterflies in her stomach, even if recent events had rather poisoned the elysium of the place. Nonetheless, Alses was resolved – implacably so – to move on, to learn from the errors that had led to such a grievous violation of her sanctuary, and to visit fury upon whoever dared to try it.

When she found out who it was.

There was little time for thinking about that sort of thing, though – glittering Talora drew the eye and commanded attention. She was seated comfortably in one of the overstuffed chairs that clustered around the great fireplace, cradled in the padded red velvet, and was, by Alses' estimation at least, looking around with interest.

“Your Radiance,” Alses said, her voice carrying easily even as she bent into the deepest bow she could manage.

[Alses]

Talora's face was a picture of almost-comical dismay when Alses straightened up from her genuflection. “Oh, Alses, not you, of all people! You and I are sisters! You even know my mortal seeming, and that's one of the closest things we have to a secret in this city. I'll call you Alses, and you'll call me Talora, just as it should be.” A pause.

“I do hope I wasn't disturbing you with anything important?” she added, the rising inflection turning it into a question.

“We were just enjoying the sunshine in the garden, Y-Talora,” Alses replied, with only a mild stumble over the name that the Day Lady graciously overlooked, her smile not flickering a jot. “Nothing important at all.”

The mention of the sunshine and the grounds seemed to light a strange light in Talora's perfect eye, and the beam of her smile almost equalled that of Syna's noonday glare, the gnosis mark that Alses couldn't quite bring herself to look at glowing brightly.

“It is a glorious day,” she agreed. “Far too nice to spend cooped up inside.” She rose, fluidly, the subtly floral silk tumbling in a shimmering wave to spread immaculately around her. It was hypnotic, almost, the perfection of events occurring around Lhavit's laurelled Day Lady, eternal diarch of the celestial city and much else besides.

“And from what I saw on my way here, you have a rather nice garden. Shall we?” she asked, cocking her head towards the doors. It was a request, but Alses interpreted it as a command. One of the perks – and sometimes penalties – of power, she would come to learn.

The two of them quickly progressed back outside, into the flamethrower heat and the harsh glare of the sun, the two Ethaefal delighting in their solar goddess' beneficence, completely immune to the deleterious effects of the sunshine. Talora's guards materialised almost the moment they set foot on the portico once more, stepping out from ready to escort their lady back to the Twuele.

“Are we going back, Radiance?” their leader asked, his gaze unfriendly as it flashed professionally over Alses. His voice, too, was a deep, gravelly and yet also curiously hoarse – the result of years of slavery, had Alses but known, and old wounds that had healed, but not well.

“No, no,” Talora laughed, a trilling cadence that chuckled and bubbled in the air, a flash of golden champagne in her aura. “We're using the garden, that's all.” The man nodded impassively, his craggy face giving no indication as to his own feelings on the matter as he turned and sent his fingers flickering in a series of signed commands that were all so much gibberish to Alses, but evidently meant something to his Shinya compatriots; as one, they spread out and melted unobtrusively into the shrubbery, giving the two of them at least an illusion of privacy.

“Lead on, Alses,” Talora smiled, heedless of the effect of her presence, of just how off-kilter she'd sent Alses, of the internal struggle for equilibrium that was raging viciously. “I'm sure you've found the perfect spot for sunbathing by now.”

Still very much off balance, Alses wended her way through the parkland at a leisurely pace – because the massed ranks of roses and other ornamental foliage were too pretty not to appreciate, and the solar blaze of Talora seemed very interested in all the green and growing things, aura all aglow and alight with interest and a simpler enjoyment than Alses had expected to ever sense from the magnificent, distant diarch.

“What varieties have you got growing here, Alses? There are so many roses, I'm losing track!”

Alses looked absently up at the sky. That, at least, was something she could answer. “I didn't plant them all,” she noted, in the spirit of fairness, recognizing all the hard work that other people had put into Elysium Hall. “Quite a lot of it was the city gardeners, under Zintila's direction...but we've got Sunsprites, Zintila's Glories, Remontancy, Red Devils and about four different varieties of late musk roses.” She grinned, happy, almost able to ignore the towering stature of her current companion, of the things that might be mentioned in the 'little chat' that was doubtless forthcoming.

“They're doing very well, aren't they? We just planted them and they shot up, really. Makes me wonder what was here before the Hall.”

Talora pursed her lips in thought even as she bent to cup a particularly magnificent bloom and drink in its heady scent. “I believe it was a house left to the city in its last occupant's will. It stood empty for a little while; perhaps the rest did the soil some good.” She flashed Alses a mischievous smile. “I've half a mind to cut some to take back home,” she noted. “They smell so divine.” Her grin turned positively wicked, and the two Ethaefal shared for a few ticks the joke that only their kind could truly understand.

Amusement couldn't last, however; too soon they emerged from the rose garden and out onto the small circle of marble – now with two chairs spirited out of the Hall – perfectly positioned to drink in the sunlight for most of the day. As well as the chairs, Alses' bottle of wine still remained, although it had now been joined by a glittering glass and another transparent contraption Alses had never seen before, along with a silver platter piled with delicacies, Silver standing impeccably by as though the whole thing had been perfectly planned instead of hurriedly assembled. As they approached, he swept a low bow, the white hairs at his temples gleaming in the sun.

“Good afternoon, your grace, your radiance.” The bottle was suddenly in his hand, even as they both – Alses taking her cue from Talora, who was after all far more used to servants and protocol – settled into the chairs. “Would you care for some wine?”

There was silence for a moment as Talora looked askance at Alses and she looked back, uncomprehending.

“Just a glass, then,” the Day Lady murmured, breaking the brief and awkward pause. From somewhere within the unimaginable recesses of his clothes, Silver produced a polished corkscrew and in three smooth movements had popped the cork and was pouring a stream of wine richer than blood into the glass. There was no checking of the wine, no tentative sipping – it seemed to be an article of faith that Silver would have looked after it properly; there would be no corked or otherwise spoiled wine in cellars under his stewardship.

The rest of the bottle went into the other contraption, and then Silver simply melted away, leaving the two of them perfectly alone.

[Alses]

Silence reigned supreme for a few ticks, as Alses soaked up Syna's rays and Talora idly swirled the bloodred liquid in her glass, eyes distant and pensive even as her mind raced and her aura spun and whirled like a dynamo. Alses wasn't to know – even a master aurist's powers had limits – but Talora was just as affected by another Ethaefal's presence as she herself was; it was simply that five centuries of experience had given the Day Lady a variety of coping mechanisms, ways to manage. It probably helped, too, that she had a connection to Syna and that she'd been sent, rather than Falling.

Looking on so rich and powerful an aura for too long would give Alses a headache, with its spangled regressions and glimmering filigrees revealing deeper mysteries and hidden secrets – an ocean of impressions, sights, sounds, all the impossible sensations of her art, but this was important: a little headache could be ignored, for the sake of greater understanding.

Talora was, after all, the Day Lady, sovereign diarch of the city. Powerful, then, and definitely worthy of every erg of djed Alses could spare.

“Well, you've made quite a splash,” she started with, her voice quiet and almost determinedly neutral. “As the fish said to the man with lead weights strapped to his feet,” she added with a smile that wasn't really mirthful at all, even if Talora gave every outward appearance of amusement, right down to the twinkle in her eyes.

There didn't really seem to be anything she could say to that – and nor did Talora look as though she anticipated much of a reply, so Alses – stewing in her own nervousness – did her best to sit tight and wait for something a little more open-ended to come along.

She didn't have to wait very long; Talora continued after taking a delicate sip of the wine and humming with possibly-unconscious pleasure as the liquid slipped down her throat and into her gullet, leaving a warm fire in its wake.

“You've been making a lot of waves, Alses, and quite a lot of those have, as of late, been breaking over the Twuele.” A sigh. “Not quite what Zintila, Aysel and I had hoped to achieve when we created your position.” Talora leaned back, contemplating Alses over the rim of her glass, and her laughing eyes were hard, even as her voice remained light, almost playful, as though they were discussing the next festival to be held in the city, or something similarly banal and uncontroversial.

“In the past several days, ever since your edict, I have had representations from what feels like half the mages in the city, complaining about one aspect or another of it all. If it isn't what you've done, it's how you've done it, or how inconvenient and insensitive it is...tell me, Alses, do you like being Councillor Radiant?”

Alses blinked, entirely missing the veiled, implicit threat. “It's a challenge,” she replied truthfully. “We might enjoy it a little more if Lady Dawn wasn't so implacably opposed to us, and if the Seiza were a little more flexible. Or even explained their reasoning a little more, if I'm honest.”

Talora's brows furrowed in confusion, momentarily derailed from her main point. “Lady Dawn? I thought you had Lheili over here on a semi-regular basis...” the rising tone of her voice turned it into a question, and thankfully that was one Alses could answer.

“Sousa Dawn,” Alses clarified. “She might be matriarch of House Dawn, but that doesn't seem to mean she can control exactly what her family does. Lheili comes over every so often, along with Chiona.”

It had never been a formally-agreed affair, but somehow they'd slid into the habit of meeting together a few times a season, and with both of them being so highly placed in the Towers it had made sense for them to meet at Elysium Hall, at a little remove from prying eyes – at least for a little while.

Alses made sure to give them the key to one of the bedrooms when they were done, and very carefully made sure to remember which one it was, to avoid any embarrassment. It was working so far, and she took a certain mean-spirited pleasure in it, sure it would be another thorn in Sousa Dawn's impeccably-attired side.

“A Dusk and a Dawn under the same roof?” Talora chuckled, her aura returned to gold and green shimmers. It really was fantastically versatile, a masterpiece she had to fight not to lose herself in. “Sparks must fly!”

Alses narrowed her eyes at the radiant Ethaefal opposite, her magic seeking out secrets and emotions, but Talora seemed to be nothing but sincere in her remark. Was it possible she'd not heard the rumours about those two?

Hedging her bets, Alses took refuge in truth. “That's one way to put it,” she replied with a wry smile. “We seem to manage, though.”

Talora shook her head, returning to more serious matters, her aura darkening and becoming steel-gray and rain-lashed, as though a storm cloud was building in the energy thrown off by her soul, cumulonimbus towering to dizzying heights, building up rage and voltage as they did so.

“If you could only manage that with the Towers, we'd not be having this conversation.” Another sip of fortifying wine, and Alses found herself wishing she had an actual glass of her own. It seemed to give the Day Lady something to play with, something to do whilst those pauses stretched on and made Alses even more uncomfortable and nervous than she already was.

[Alses]

“As I said, I've had deputations from quite a number of our more djed-aware citizens, about this Amendment you've pushed on them. I've read it – I detected Mercadier's hand all through what you sent to us-” she paused, as though a new thought had struck her and taken over the thread of the conversation. Later on, when Alses played and replayed their conversation over and over and over in her head, the sly thought that Talora was finding it just as difficult to dress-down a fellow Synaborn Ethaefal as Alses was in accepting it kept rearing its head. Perhaps that was the reason for all the tangents.

“Come to think of it, how did you manage to get him on-side with all of this? He's always been very good at explaining why something's a bad idea, or if all else fails, in delaying unwise things into oblivion. That's partly why we let you have him; for just this sort of thing.”

“He was quite vehement on the need to at least delay matters, and he used all the loquaciousness at his disposal – which is considerable, even we admit – but we used the Day of Discord on him,” Alses admitted, feeling faintly guilty all of a sudden, remembering the sudden shadows that had swept across her deputy at that point in the argument.

Talora laughed, but the smile didn't reach her eyes and instead sadness glittered there. “One day,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, “That day won't even be a shadow on the stones.”

“And I stand by my changes,” Alses added daringly, partly to distract Talora from unpleasant memories and partly to press her own offensive. “They're good for the city.”

Perfectly arched eyebrows rose in disbelief, the wineglass forgotten in the Day Lady's elegant hand and the memories of one of the blacker chapters in Lhavit's history likewise abandoned. “The backlash I've had the happy job of dealing with over the past few days would disagree with you, Alses,” she replied. “We've always coped well with overgiving; few Lhavitian wizards suffer it – I have to ask if this amendment was necessary.”

Alses controlled her rising temper imperfectly, noticing the snap in her own tone even as she winced to hear it. “We're sorry, Talora? That's to be their defence – it's always been fairly all right before, so why change it now?" She shook her head, in amazement and disgust, emotions undisguised in sheer surprise - although a cynical little part of her pointed out that she shouldn't have been.

"Put everyone who's gone screaming straight to you about this simple little change in front of the wives and husbands and children of the Shinya who died in the Djed Storm, and have them tell those poor people that we have a chance to reduce the casualties, to help cut down on repeats of their own tragedies, but because it's statistically not much of a risk and it's a bit of an administrative hassle, because it's a little inconvenient to our mages, we're not going to do it!” Her voice rang around the little clearing, and Talora froze, every muscle determinedly holding the solar figure exactly in place.

Alses smiled, then, a small and cruel smile that came straight from the normally-buried nastier side of her personality: the ruthless sorceress who would cut down anyone in her way with nary a flicker of remorse or reconsideration. “We'd lay quite good money on there not being enough of them left to bother you ever again.”

The Day Lady unfroze and shifted uncomfortably; Alses had the sense that she'd hit close to the mark. “Calm yourself, Alses,” Talora commanded – and it was a command, her voice quite strident, even though the force of it – and the echoes - were swallowed up by the foliage all around. In the bushes, entirely unseen and soundless against the backdrop of a summer garden, but so very evident to Alses' auristic sight, the Shinya moved closer, ready. Just in case.

“I care about my people,” she pointed out, perhaps slightly stung, “And I'm not accustomed to being shouted at.” Once again, as quickly as it had come, the iron command in her voice and the fire in her eyes gentled away into nothing and her wondrous aura mantled everything in gold and green peace and contentment, as though nothing had happened.

Perhaps her voice had risen a little too much. “We'd also point out that Lhavit is becoming more open, and our reputation for magic is spreading,” Alses offered, as an olive branch, her tones liquidly smooth and soothing. “Other cities have entirely different approaches to magic, different methods of training – if they have any formal programs at all. Here, the Towers and our teaching mages of all stripes follow certain guidelines, they teach ethics and restraint and how to recognize overgiving when it comes calling, but elsewhere...” Alses let her voice tail off expressively.

“Having up-to-date records on those people when they come to our city, especially if they settle and learn, could be invaluable,” she continued, “And I hope you'd agree it wouldn't be fair – or wise – to require it of one segment of our magical population, and not of another, quite aside from all the other reasons.”

Alses raised a hand and began to tick points off on her fingers, not trying to antagonize her powerful superior but also trying to make a point. Goodwill and luck could carry one so far and no farther; sooner or later, one or the other would run out and then it would be flames and death, especially if the city hadn't had foresight, hadn't planned, hadn't changed with the times.

“One. We teach magic. It follows that our students get better as they continue their studies, but magic is always risky and there is always the chance of an overgiving mishap. If they have become powerful, but not updated their records – for a multitude of reasons – then that presents our Shinya with a hideous danger that could otherwise have been contained.” A finger flicked out, shining brightly in the sunlight.

“Two-” she was interrupted by the liquid tones of her companion, and the wave of one beringed hand.

“Enough, enough. I did read your supporting documentation as well.”

Talora closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand, slumping back into her chair. The pause had, so far, been a powerful weapon in Talora's arsenal, unsettling and riling Alses, but this one felt different, slightly more restful, a natural break rather than a strategic deployment. For a few ticks, both Ethaefal remained silent, drinking in Syna's bounty, collecting and regrouping, one striving for equilibrium and equanimity and the other preparing a second fusillade.

[Alses]

“So. It's a good idea, argued for persuasively in your documentation, and it wasn't done on a whim...But why, Alses, why on Mizahar did you do it in the way you did? An edict? Those haven't been used since we turfed the trade in flesh out of the Ethereal Opera and sank the slaver fleet in Port Tranquil!”

Alses smiled her most disarming smile, hoping that it might soften whatever Talora had in reserve. “What should we have done, Talora? Even we can see you're upset about it.”

The Day Lady spread her shimmering hands, curtains of scintillating silk glimmering in the abundant light, fingers moving as though she was trying to catch some exceptionally elusive thing. “Well...why didn't you consult, for a start? Consulting is how we get most things done in Lhavit; The Towers, Lady Lariat, Sakana Dai, all the rest of them would have been very happy to have given you their opinions! You might even have been able to build a consensus that it was a necessary thing to do, presented a broad and unified front to the magical population of the city! That way, you'd have avoided or at the least delayed or deflected this...this...this tide of vitriol that we've been dealing with!”

Alses blushed lightly, a dusting of rosy pink tinting the tops of her spectacular cheekbones. “Perhaps we should have thought of that sooner than we did,” she admitted. “I might have been a little too focused on Sousa Dawn's dislike, and I might have let it cloud my judgement a little-”

Talora interrupted, eyes intent. “Alses, who told you Sousa Dawn would be against you? Have you considered that it might be a self-fulfilling prophecy, a way to set you against her and then her against you in defence, and in so doing weaken the city?”

Alses savoured the little victory, however minor, over the Day Lady. It was a petty little thing, but no less sweet for all that, and she had to fight to keep the victorious smile curling her lips in the smug grin of someone laying down an ace at cards.

“It was Zintila.” That, at least, stopped Talora in her tracks, at least for a few ticks. “When we were very first given the job, before the coronation or anything else, when it was just Her and me in the Paradise, she warned me.”

Talora pursed her lips. “Well, Zintila has sources even Aysel and I don't know about,” she replied, at length, and from her aura Alses got the sense that this was as close to an apology she'd get.

“Even so, two of the three Towers on your side, and however many of the independents that you could convince, that would have been a powerful bloc to let you get this legislation passed through normal channels. You're a persuasive speaker; I've heard you a few times in the Basilika, something like that probably wouldn't be beyond your talents.” A half-shrug, and a draining of the glass. “Besides, our mages aren't stupid. They'd probably be able to see this is a good and needful thing, if they weren't blinded by the high-handed way you pushed it through.”

Talora blinked slowly at Alses, a cherry-red tongue darting out to lick her lips clean of any clinging drops of the wine. “Pass the decanter, would you?” she asked, nodding towards the contraption.

Gratified to know what it was actually called – today wouldn't be a total loss, no matter the final outcome of this gruelling 'discussion' – Alses obediently hefted the thing and tilted a rich stream of fluid into the glass, generously topping it up. The alcohol didn't seem to be doing a thing – but then, Talora was probably far more used to the stuff than Alses would ever be.

She waited a decent period, to allow the Day Lady to resettle and to enjoy the alcohol, before they resumed. The little breaks every now and then were tactical pauses, giving them both time to reflect, regroup and reinforce, each one savoured – at least by Alses, who was flying almost blind through a political minefield.

“We had to push it through,” Alses murmured. “I couldn't see another way to do it; the Seiza dragged their feet and sent reams of paperwork to try and bury us – I'm sure we can arrange for Mercadier to deliver all their documentation, if you'd like to see it – and we knew there would be interest groups amongst the mages who would seek to quash it.” A defeated half-shrug: the dreaded word was hurrying towards her lips and Alses could see no way around things but its utterance.

“I'm...sorry...if we've caused difficulty,” she choked out, her face mirroring perfectly the internal struggle, something Talora observed with internal interest and outward indifference.

“But...we can only do our best. I saw a problem, a loophole, an oversight that needed fixing, and we closed it as best we knew how. I thought it was necessary, Talora. If not for right now, then at least for the future.” Alses paused, conscious of the situation hanging on a knife-edge, about to go either way, and then oh-so-delicately added: “We've been told that the new and unpleasant often becomes the old and comfortable, with the flow of Tanroa's river?” her voice rose hopefully at the end of it, a delicate hook draped in the air.

Unfortunately, Talora didn't seem to be in any sort of mood to dangle a carrot or assuage Alses' fears, one way or the other. “Hmm,” was all she said, noncomittal as only an ancient leader could be.

“And you are still very new to our fair city's politics, after all...” her voice had become pensive, her gaze distant, almost looking through Alses. “It's all just a bit of a mess.” Talora, for a split-tick, looked very tired, before the mask slid back on and she gave out one of her blinding smiles to hide the blunder. “Still, the Ascendant likes it – anything that helps his guards he's very happy with, so you've earned yourself some political capital there. The problem is that you've dug yourself a pit with everyone else.”

[Alses]

The silence stretched, and this time Alses was the one who broke it, hesitantly. “Is there anything we can do?” she asked, tentative. Those who knew her – or thought they did, at any rate – would be astonished to see the change. “Do you have any advice that could help? You and Aysel have ruled Lhavit for centuries, after all...”

Talora pursed her lips. “No,” was the initial reply, eyes distant as they tracked the now-declining sun, slipped from its high noon throne and progressing inevitably towards the nadir. The light was getting richer slowly, its colours twisting from the harsh blaze of noontide to the sumptuous palette of sunset, the slow change spread over the bells of the afternoon.

“Best you do nothing,” the Day Lady continued, her voice sliding smoothly into the measured tones of someone planning something. “Although doing nothing is very hard when it comes to politics. You must learn, in these situations, to become a rock, a solid and immovable object over which the water of objections and criticism wash over and around. The temptation is always to lash out, to respond – more often than not, it widens the maelstrom rather than dissipating it. A measured response is usually better.” Talora nodded, as though organizing things in her head.

“Yes, do nothing, Alses. Magisterial distance is a skill you'd do well to learn. The pause on your part may give us time to calm the hotter heads and see reason prevail. Either way, though, you have ruffled a great many feathers as of late and it will take some time for them all to settle. As for advice...yes, do nothing. Sail through this little storm as though it were naught but a summer squall – which, in truth, it is. You can make subtler amends once the worst of it has blown over, and begin to repair the bridges you've damaged.”

Another long draught of bloodred wine as the Day Lady tipped herself back in her chair, looking with distant eyes up at the million miles of blue sky. “Aysel and I rarely ruled in the way you use the term. Preside might be more accurate; until recently, we trusted them with their own affairs, by and large. Really, we advised – but over such a long time our advice became almost like law, even if it was wrong – and it has been, on a few occasions.” A slightly more reassuring smile lifted Alses' flagging spirits, but only slightly. She knew that smiles could be a way of twisting the knife.

Alses sighed, drawing into herself. “Will you be wanting our resignation?” she asked, almost resigned to it already. “It seems like it would solve many of these problems.”

Talora started. “Syna above, no! For a start, I couldn't just out-and-out demand it! Zintila and Aysel would have to agree – and I daresay the Starry Queen, if any of us, would be the one to require it of you. In the second place, it was one error of judgement, made by a newcomer with the very best of intentions, and with no actual harm being done to the city. We all knew, no matter who we appointed, that there would be things like this, especially in the beginning, whilst the Council was growing into its own.” A sigh.

“Perhaps I've appeared a little harsh, but you must remember, Alses, Lhavit's weathered far worse than a well-intentioned but ill-judged legal action. No, the Diarchy and Divinity will support you. Perhaps not with a ringing endorsement, but we'll support your action in the right circles. We happy few in government stick together, Alses! Usually. Besides,” she added, “The deputation from the Towers rather annoyed me; they ranted and raved - politely - about how they hadn't been consulted, hadn't been asked for advice or an opinion, but seemed rather struck dumb when I enquired if they'd offered advice and opinions to you.”

She grinned. “I think they – even your old Tower – have got a little too used to power again. They didn't even think to come to you with their opinions – perhaps expecting you to turn up on their doorsteps to ask.”

Alses shifted uncomfortably. “Mercadier said we had a few couriers deliver messages, and Chiona and Lheili did tell me their respective Towers weren't very happy...”

Talora, rather than growing dark and troubled, instead seemed to glow at those words. She raised an admonishing – no, instructive finger. Alses was dimly beginning to see that she was getting a masterclass in politics as it applied to the starry city, couched amid the reprimand and their discussion of current affairs, and so she listened attentively, every fibre of her being focused on the Day Lady. “Couriers? If the Towers were truly concerned about something, they should have sent somebody to talk to you, rather than relying on letters. They always did when it was Aysel and I in direct charge; it should be no different for you.”

The smile remained as she continued: “Perhaps not all of the fallout from your edict will be a bad thing. A little humility goes a long way, for them as well as us. It's about power, Alses, the soft stuff that comes from the weight of institutions, personal charisma, the whole smoke and mirrors of leadership, not what you get at the pointy end of a sword or within a fireball's burning core. We – well, mostly you, but by extension me – will be sending them a clear message; if they want to be taken seriously by the city government then they will have to behave seriously. They won't be able to get away with-” her voice dripped with polite scorn for a few moments “-letters. No, they'll have to do what they used to with Aysel and myself; either come and see you themselves, or send a high-ranking member of their House or Tower to do it for them. And so, Alses, you get a little bit more power over them. You bring them to heel in the shadows, you establish yourself as a power – quite often without them realising it, at least at first.”

Alses found her voice. “But Chiona and Lheili did warn me...” she pointed out, eager to hear the reply from the vastly experienced Talora.

“Ah, yes. So they did – but tell me, Alses, where and when did they give you this warning? Do you think they were delivering their cautions as official representatives of His Excellency the Lord Dusk, Patriarch of House Dusk and their attendant Tower, and of Her Excellency the Lady Dawn, Matriarch of House Dawn and their attendant Tower, or rather as friends concerned for another friend's welfare and position?”

Alses blinked. “Elysium Hall,” she replied, slowly, revisiting the memory and turning it over and over in her head. “Over tea and cake and a bottle of wine. So, on balance...as friends?”

Talora nodded. “That's what I think. Of course, quite a lot of politics and diplomacy can happen over tea and cake and a bottle of wine – greases the diplomatic wheels, we've always found – but in this case, I believe it was two friends worried about a third.” She shrugged. “I could be wrong, of course.”

A deep breath, a return to the main subject in hand. “In any case, I shall instruct any further petitioners to direct their current and future complaints to you in the first instance, rather than running straight to me. Aysel and I are not here to be their first port of call whenever they disagree with the government's decisions; we're the last resort, and it's time that became practice rather than theory.”

They seemed to have turned a corner on the harrowing discussion, and as the sun sank lower in the sky Alses and Talora's conversation turned more wide-ranging, covering what she hoped to achieve in the future, and what methods she'd thought of to achieve her aims. The Day Lady had few immediate suggestions, but Alses was beginning to see that this was another, useful strategy: playing noncommittal until she'd had time to reflect and think on the implications, the angles, the factions pleased and upset and indifferent, the influence and in what places it would be needed, whether the whole of it was even a sound idea...

The occasional advice she did offer, though, that was useful, and when at last one of Talora's Shinya guards shimmered into existence the sun was low and wavering in the sky and their conversation had become desultory, with long breaks for them to savour the bloodred light richer than wine.

“My lady, your grace,” he growled – it was the hoarse-voiced Master from before “If we leave now we should just be able to make it to the Twuele before sunset and the Change.”

Talora's face flashed with a kaleidoscope of regret for just a tick before the mask went back on and she rose in a waterfall of glowing silks, Alses swiftly following suit. “We'll see you to the gates,” she promised quickly.

The walk through the gardens and over the lawns seemed to take only ticks. Talora paused at the gates, half-turning to look at Alses with a smile and a faintly quizzical, appraising look, as though she were still not quite sure what to make of her. “Interesting chat, Alses,” she remarked, her voice nonetheless as warm as summer. “I think we cleared up a great many things today. We should make this more of a regular event – I'll have you over to the Twuele next time, rather than dropping in unannounced.” She nodded, the armour of the perfect Day Lady slotting into place even more visibly around her, the distant and perfect remove of an immortal leader.

“Take care of yourself, Alses,” she added, turning to go.

“And you, Talora,” Alses replied, receiving the regal wave of a hand in the air as an acknowledgement even as the Day Lady and her entourage of guards began to make their way across the peak towards the magnificent spire of the Twuele.

END

[Sal Mander]

Alses

XP

• Persuasion +2
• Politics +4
• Rhetoric +3
• Socializing +4

Lores

• Lore - Auristics: Reading The Star Lady
• Lore - Politics: Consensus Government
• Lore - Politics: A Master Class From An Ancient Leader
• Lore - Politics: Noncommittal Strategy
• Lore - Politics: Pleasing An Ascendant
• Lore - Politics: Shades of Concern
• Lore - Politics: Status Quo: Past No Indication of Future
• Lore - Social: A Decanter and Its Uses
• Lore - Social: Traversing An Uncomfortable Silence

Comments
The Star Lady makes for a worthy conversational partner, while exuding all the authority and wisdom one would expect of such an ancient leader. You captured her personality in such a way that she was both equally graceful and terrifying, the latter in the way that a feared headmaster is to young, impressionable students.
Meanwhile, it was most interesting to hear Alses combat the Star Lady with her defense of her politic shenanigans, even if she did not know what a decanter was

As always, PM me if you have any questions or comments. Also please remove your grade request from the relevant thread.

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