Flashback A Study in Decadence

[Estrellir Konrath]

Fall 5, 511 AV
Boldvine Plantation


Estrellir stood with a glass in hand and observed the crowd. By the time the sky was bleeding into inky dark blue, the party was in full swing. Earlier that day, a priestess of Bala had prayed to the Goddess for a bountiful harvest and ended the ritual by blessing their bamboo forest. Same as every year. As soon as the official part was over, guests were encouraged to peruse the buffet tables that had been prepared at various locations around the house and back porch. Soon the party had spilled out into the garden with small groups or pairs walking among fragrant flowers or among the high bamboo. Waiters were weaving through the crowd carrying trays full of colorful drinks and cold snacks.

As usual, Estrellir had put as little effort as possible into her appearance. She cared about impressions, but only enough to look presentable, not enough to stand out. As she had helped organize the party, decorate the house and coordinate the slaves hired for entertainment, she had persuaded her eldest sister Atia to let her pick something from her (way bigger) wardrobe. As a result, Estrellir was wearing a light aquamarine dress with diamond accents and a layered skirt. Its cut gave the illusion of feminine curves on her boyish hips and added a little to her breasts. Vines with slender bamboo leaves were braided into ivory locks that spilled over her scaled shoulders. Her mother had also forced the Konti to wear earrings carved into tiny leaves and a simple thin ring, both obviously made from bamboo.

With a small sigh, Estrellir took a sip of exquisite Kenashian rum and looked around the hall. Some of her sisters and cousins were wearing much more outrageous jewelry, so she should be glad to have been spared that, but she couldn’t quite manage it. After a glance into her glass, swirling the liquid around, she left her spot at the wall to wander among the crowd.

Zaelsen Radacke had received an invitation, of course, but she hadn’t seen him yet. Several Dynasts were preoccupied with the slaves he had supplied for entertainment though. Estrellir noted a pale girl with chestnut hair curled around a young male Sitai, recognizing her as the ferret Kelvic she’d picked up. The human musicians were playing their harp and flute to spectators of both genders. She also caught a glimpse of red hair and guessed it had to be the parakeet Kelvic.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, although the buffet was dwindling rapidly. Estrellir notified the first waitress she could find to bring more food, then took a small chocolate cake wrapped in paper and stepped outside. After the first bite, she descended the steps towards the garden, treading carefully on her high heeled sandals. Lanterns had been put up at regular intervals to light the pathways between flowerbeds, casting gentle orange and reddish circles of light.

Although she passed several people she knew, Estrellir kept moving. She was looking for a slave, a very particular pair of Ethaefal horns. Achenar hadn’t been inside.

Dress :

[Achenar]

"Stand a little more to the left." The woman wagged her fingers at him, gesturing where she'd wanted him to stand. He shifted one foot in the direction she indicated, holding the canvas in his hands at barely chest height. "That's it, right there, now stand still." The konti woman, dressed in her too long evening gown, held the palette and brush aloft, applying the first strokes onto the canvas as a trio of women watched, nodding their heads and giggling behind raised fans.

The ethaefal was silent. His current position was a lot less humiliating than other acts he'd been forced to do in his time as a slave, and he could manage the weight of the canvas easily enough. Zaelsen Radacke, preoccupied with another affair involving an escaped slave, had opted to send Achenar along with the rest of the slaves instead. The travel had been hot and stuffy, as it usually was in the carriages that shipped the slaves like chattel. The Boldvine Plantation, however, had proved to be lovelier than any estate he'd serviced.

When he'd arrived, the attention accrued like a tidal wave. An arm of a woman slipped around his and he was spirited away before he had had a chance to absorb his surroundings. Instead, he stood now, deprived of his tunic, with only his pants and shoes and a thick collar around his neck. He was the living easel, forcing a smile to the women that reached to touch his arms and sides, as though stroking his skin would have an effect on the natural shimmer he radiated.

"Is that really your skin tone or do you just bathe in glitter?" A younger woman with soft brown hair pursed her lips in a tinge of jealousy.

"Stop moving him so much," the konti woman snapped, shoving her brush into the cup of water that was held aloft by yet another slave. "You'll ruin my painting. It takes great precision, you see," she waved a hand, as though such a thing was common knowledge. "Something you wouldn't understand, Leia."

Achenar could see the woman's face light up like a furnace. She looked about ready to burst. The last thing the slave wanted was a catty fight between dynasts.

"If I bathed in glitter, my lady," he interjected, "I doubt I'd be able to wash it out of every crack."

There was a resounding giggle from the girls, and it seemed that for the moment, the barbs had died on their tongues. The painting continued, and the ethaefal stood as still as he could muster. Any complaint from the Konraths would go to his master, perhaps even personally, and the slave would like nothing more than to avoid the Radacke's notorious disciplinary actions.

[Estrellir Konrath]

In fact Estrellir had never seen Achenar in his nocturnal form, but she didn’t doubt she’d recognize him at first glance. And so it was. The Ethaefal was surrounded by young women, yet he towered over all of them, at least his olive green horns did. The soft lanterns didn’t keep the darkness at bay and all that only highlighted how his skin reflected the moonlight. He was beautiful, so beautiful it almost hurt.

Not even someone as sober and rational as Estrellir could deny that simple fact. At first she stopped because of it, then she approached more carefully. Curiosity muffled her steps. Achenar seemed to be holding an easel with a half-finished portrait of… himself, who else could it be? When the Konti painter turned around to snap at the brunette, her face confirmed her identity. Selvaria, a paternal cousin and artist, known for her portraits of Dynasts. Estrellir had strong suspicions that she only painted the pretty and handsome for a reason – but as long as Selvaria earned money (which she did), no Konrath would object to how she led her business.

Estrellir watched as the brunette tensed and Achenar spoke up. Her eyebrows rose as the tension died and the women broke into giggles. Clever. He was aware of the fact that every fight, every mishap in his presence would reflect badly on his performance. Slaves were always blamed first. Then again, judging from how he’d behaved and observed everything during her visit to Whiplash, the Konti was hardly surprised.

While the Selvaria and her following were still giggling, Estrellir quickened her step to join them. Heels clicking on the stone tiles, she entered the small clearing, little more than a circle of stone benches and lanterns against a background of flowers and tall bamboo. “Achenar, there you are! You shouldn’t hide him like that, ladies, he has been hired to entertain all of our guests.” Selvaria pouted – as a Konrath, she had the duty to help the other Dynasts enjoy themselves instead of the other way around. Despite her artistic freedom, the painter knew all too well that Estrellir ranked higher than her.

While the other Dynasty ladies exchanged shrill laughs and comments, the Konti took a sip of rum and observed. She had positioned herself at the edge of the group, yet close enough to talk to the Ethaefal without having to raise her voice. “I haven’t seen your master around. I suppose he’s too busy to grace us with his presence?” Licking her lips for the aftertaste, she craned his neck to meet his gaze. By Avalis, he was even taller than by day! “How has everyone been treating you so far?”

[Achenar]

Watching the dynasts and prestigious freeborn intermingle made something in the ethaefal twitch. They lived their lives in such arrogance, turning a blind eye to the suffering of the very slaves who built the foundations beneath their feet. Achenar's silver eyes darted between those nobly dressed, following the servants who wove between bodies as though they hoped they wouldn't be seen. No matter their forced smiles and random automated small talk, the slaves had a hollowness in their eyes that mimicked his own.

This was just a game, a stage that he played on. The ethaefal had never considered his life his own. He followed the cues of those he was forced to serve. He laughed when it was required and flattered in order to avoid the harshest of punishments. His life under the Radacke dynasty had sowed a seed of darkness in him that had taken root. Learned behavior from Zaelsen had only amplified it. To be a deceiver and a beguiler, was to assure that he would never end up six feet beneath the ground. Not that many would waste a creature such as he. He'd come to realize the rarity by which he was afforded unique attentions. It was both a blessing and a curse, and in this case, a little bit of both.

The only person he recognized here, aside from the slaves, was the woman who approached. Though she resembled the other konti with her alabaster hair and spiral pattering of scales, there was something about her that screamed 'different' to the ethaefal. She was not demure, by any means, and her mannerisms, her words when they had spoken denoted someone of reasonable intuitiveness. Achenar had been intrigued at the time but upset when the subject of Leth had been breached. Seeing her again made the memories resurface, and he managed a curt nod at her greeting.

At the very least, she had somewhat saved him the trouble of entertaining the women further.

"Yes, m'lady," he remarked, "Unfortunately, due to a slave on the estate escaping into the swamps, he couldn't attend." He was sure his master would have enjoyed probing the minds of all the dynasts and freeborns at this little affair.

He looked down at her, eyeing the way her dress shaped to her body and the way the scales on her shoulders glimmered faintly under soft glowing lights. It almost reminded him of the moon. He cleared his throat and shifted weight on his other foot. Another question. Achenar had no way of knowing if this woman was looking for specific answers. But he was better safe than sorry.

"I've been treated incredibly well, m'lady," he answered automatically. "The Konrath home is one of the most regal I've ever seen." Compliment, flatter, kiss ass.That was the staple of a slave. "You've been doing well, Lady Estrellir? Have the slaves you've chosen performed to your liking?" He glanced at her then, finally looking her in the eyes.

[Estrellir Konrath]

Estrellir allowed herself a little smirk. She wondered if Zaelsen had instructed his slave to use that particular excuse or, if not, he’d object to its revelation. “I’m sure he regrets having to do what must be done.”

After sipping her rum, she mirrored his gaze and observed his form. In so many ways, the Ethaefal seemed to embody the night itself, to have captured it in his otherworldly skin tone, midnight dark hair and faintly glimmering horns. In the shadows and flickering flames their exact color was hard to tell, some shade of green perhaps. His eyes, however, were pure melting moonlight, possibly more beautiful due to that delicious expression of caution and mistrust. The eyes of a slave, not a meek one, but one who understood the game and played it exceptionally well.

Estrellir wondered what Achenar saw when he looked at her, the secret thoughts he didn’t voice. Sometimes it irritated her, that indestructible wall between Dynasts and their slaves, even Dynasts and Freeborns. No matter how well she treated her assistant Mell, how fond the girl was of her, the wall still separated them. Even though or even more so because they often pretended it didn’t exist. With layers upon layers of deception, it was increasingly difficult to glimpse true intentions and genuine emotion underneath. What was emotion anyway, but an excuse for the sentimental?

So Achenar replied to her question with flattery which was expected, but disappointing all the same. The Konti had thought him to be more than he seemed to be. Then again, he had to consider the lingering glances from Selvaria and the others. They weren’t alone like they had been at Whiplash, when she’d asked about Leth.

The way he looked at her, however, compelled her to take him away. The shadows would help and from afar, the pair of them would look like a pool filled with moonlight. “They have indeed. Naturally, I couldn’t examine them all myself, but the guests seem to be enjoying themselves in their company.” Violet eyes were shining with curiosity, darker than by day, as she wondered how he expected his question about wellbeing to be answered. “I have been busy. It seems to be worse the closer you’re related to the Head of House, you get roped into everything. Politely, of course.”

The beginning of a smile curled her lips, hinting at the love she felt for her family in spite of all the politics and socializing. Selvaria turned around just in time to catch the last of it and placed a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Now now, Estrellir, it was you who warned me not to keep all of him to myself. What happened to that?”

She was obviously trying to be subtle, but Estrellir replied smoothly. “What do you mean? I was merely making sure your fussing and touching hasn’t left any mental damage. You seem to have the basics down on that painting, so I’ll get him back to the manor now, work the crowd. Enjoy your evening, ladies.” Like that, she turned and stalked away. The ladies would likely be complaining about her for the next bell or so, but they’d recover. A Dynast had many means of entertainment available to her, after all.

Instead of heading towards the lit porch, however, Estrellir merely made sure they were out of sight behind a tuft of young bamboo before slowing her step. After several bells on her feet, the heels were killing her, but Estrellir pushed her discomfort back and turned towards Achenar. “Since your master gifted you to us this evening, I might just test you as a representative of the others. But first, tell me about your training and experience. What kind of games has Zaelsen played with you in the past?”