Part One: What They've Sown
The Man in the Mirror
Manu paced in his study. It was a large room with bookshelves filled with scrolls, ancient tomes, and strange magical artifacts that had been brought to him by nobles who had no use of them. On the floor was a red mat upon which Manu spent most of his time - he hated sitting at desks, and so more often than not he spread his reading out on the floor. Papers and books were now strewn across said mat, ranging from inspirational tales of leadership and dull treatise on the proper management of a fief. Manu read them with equal interest, as he loved to read and learn. He had read every book in the Duren Palace several times over, which was not saying much as it had a very small library, and could recall most of them with accuracy. He preferred books to people, enjoying quiet contemplation much more than he did the company of others.
He stopped pacing and looked at himself in a mirror which hang on the wall. He looked at his natural elven markings: one long purple stripe that dropped from his right brow to his cheek, appearing like a dark scar. His pointed ears poked out from his hair, which was down and not in it's usual single tail down his back. His horns poked from the top of his head, and were by far his most noticeable elven feature. He forgot, sometimes, that he was not a human. He spent so much time with them and disguised as one that it was hard for him to see himself as anything other than a man. He spent most of his life with mankind, and although he still felt an affinity towards the elven race, he did not see himself as owing any loyalty to his own people. In his mind, the people of Duren were his people. His parents were the departed Queens of Duren, and they were the only ones he could remember.
It did not bother him, he realized, as the face in the mirror rippled and turned into his human disguise. He was too much a pragmatist to spend any serious time mulling over his former life. His place was here, in Duren. His focus now had to be on his new life, and rebuilding House Amin. He owed that to his stepmothers.
There was the matter of the potential loan from the Talikas. Manu raised a hand and summoned an illusion of Motiwala's brother, the Lord Talika who had spoken in defense of the Magisterial College in the emergency council meeting earlier that day. The dark man, muscled and towering over Manu, stared blankly and lifelessly at the bookshelves. He wore the same dark blue, knee-length jacket he had worn in the meeting.
Manu circled around him. "What would this get you, my Lord?" He asked the illusion, knowing full well it would not answer him unless he commanded it and gave it words to say. He tried to think of what the answer to his question would be. House Talika supported both House Amin and the College, of which Manu was both a part of. A loan from them was less concerning than a contract with a less friendly House, such as the Shers or the Aaivees, both of whom were openly critical of the Crown in court.
Lord Talika would gain Manu as an ally, certainly. Any loan towards the purchase of the Chamakeela properties could easily be paid off after the first harvest of saffron, which was only grown in Duren, and only there it was grown in the former Chamakeela fief. The more arid climate near the Neolandian deserts made it perfect for the cultivation of the small violet flowers in large quantities. The Chamakeelas made their fortune off the rare spice, which they then lost when they forfeited their property, freedom, and eventually their lives.
The Talikas would know how easily it would be for Manu to pay them back. This meant that the loan could either be a gift at face value, or it would somehow compound into a series of favors down the line. Manu could not be sure which it was. Motiwala was a trusted friend, but on this matter, Manu could not ignore that he was an elder member of House Talika, and looked out for his own family's interest. That did not bother Manu, as he recognized and respected that his own actions were for similar reasons.
It was important to note, though, that the offer came from Motiwala first, and he did not wait to discuss it with his brother, the Lord Talika, to see what the head of the House would say first. That made Manu's elven ears tingle, a sign that there was more to the situation that met the eye. He suspected that House Talika was desperately looking for a way to elevate their positions among the noble Houses, likely worried that their stagnant status at present would be seen as opportunity by the greater Houses.
Manu realized the irony in his consideration of the noble Houses in terms of lesser and greater Houses. He was hardly in a place to make judgments about who was lesser and who was greater; all that House Amin their name currently was the Queen, an almost abandoned Fort, and a scheming elf.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he decided he would meet with Lord Talika. He could speak to him, figure out any other terms of the loan, and then make a final decision. Manu also knew it would not hurt to consider his other options. As an illusionist himself, he knew that when things were too good to be true, they often were.
Manu left his papers and books on the floor as he closed the door to the study and climbed the stairs to the kitchen. He never worried about the cleanliness of his hidden room because he was the only one to ever see it. His general housekeeping followed the same philosophy: he kept the rooms clean that people would see if they happened to visit. If he had surprise guests, he could always just cover any mess with an illusion or too. Magic came in very handy.
He poured himself berry wine and began to slice vegetables for a light dinner. He rarely ate meat when at home, as it was hard to transport up the mountain and then keep fresh. If he ate meat at all, it was only when he was at the Palace for lunch or if he was at an event. He had long since learned that humans loved to eat meat at every opportunity.
He brought his salad and drink out onto the balcony as he often did, and sat in peace as the warm Duren night buzzed with nocturnal noise around him. The crickets chirped their melodious conversations while the night birds sang to each other from the treetops. The mystical glow of fireflies could be seen down in the fields, twinkling with an eerie green light brighter than the stars were above.
Manu looked up at the moon. It would be two days until it was full, which meant that he would be at the height of his natural power. He made sure to stay secluded during these times, because although his illusions were stronger, he also enjoyed not having to use them. With his horns and ears under the full moon, he felt honest and truthful about who he really was.
He considered what he would do once he purchased the Chamakeela fiefdom. He would probably start with an inspection of the Fort, which he knew was one of the most elegant of all the Houses. During the trials of the family, he had been one of the investigators tasked with finding evidence of the plot against her Majesty. The walls of the Fort were tall and strong stone brick, and within them was a large castle about half the size of the Duren Palace. He never viewed them with envy, not knowing how he could possibly use all that space.
He knew that he still did not know. Even if he had all his possessions moved from the villa to the Fort, he would be able to fit maybe two or three rooms. He bit his cheek as he mulled over the other costs he would have to incur as a result of furnishing the remainder of the Fort. He would have to purchase new banners and flags with the symbols of House Amin, enough for the whole fief to display, and then he would have to hire staff for the Fort. Guards, servants, and he would have to find advisers and stewards to help him manage the day to day operations of the fief.
He sipped his berry wine absentmindedly. If the fief was still paying taxes to the Crown, it stood to reason that the fief had a remaining treasury that it was paying it from. He felt wrong, considering using the money from the near-extinct Chamakeela family to convert their holdings to House Amin's, but it was foolish to let the money go to waste. Besides, he had little to worry about from the last remaining one.
His horns hurt, a bad omen, and he rubbed the bases with one hand.