Caspian
When Caspian strode through the doors to his family's palace, he was expecting some sort of reception, or at the very least, some sort of response. After all, he had been gone for quite some time commanding part of his family's fleet of merchant vessels, and normally when he returned to Chiaroscuro from such a long trip, his parents would arrange for a feast or the like.
However, today he was greeted with silence and deserted halls. Well, not deserted per se, the usual collection of servant and guards scrambled about the marble hallways, intent on their assigned duties, but his parents, with their usual cheery greetings, and his baby-sister with her sweet, adoring smile were quite conspicuously missing.
This was disappointing to say the least; not to mention off-putting.
"You there!" he called out to one of the clerks, scurrying through the halls.
The man stopped in his tracks, turning to regard Caspian with an owlish-wide-eyed gaze. He shifted his armload of books, before bowing his head.
"Y-yes, My Lord?" the man responded, clearly unnerved.
Caspian gave him a cheery grim. "Now, now, none of that... er..." he looked the man up and down for a second, trying to recall whether he had seen him before. "What was your name again?"
The man seemed even more startled by the friendly attitude, and Caspian restrained a sigh of annoyance while the man tried to re-organize his thoughts. Honestly, he could understand the need to run a tight, disciplined, and efficient business, but sometimes, his father really did take it too far. Caspian always preferred his underlings be comfortable with speaking with him.
His father ran the more, social aspects of their merchant house, while his mother, a truly brilliant woman (though a bit of a recluse), handled the books and money.
"I'm... I'm Hadeen, Sir," the man finally manged to stutter out.
"Well then, Hadeen, if you please, could you tell me where the rest of my family has run off to?" Caspian responded, still trying to remain friendly, despite the less than encouraging response.
"Your parents, Sir, are meeting with the Tri-Khan at his palace," the young clerk manged to reply.
Caspian nodded. That should not have come as a surprise, his parents were regular fixtures in the court of the Tri-Khan, the ruler/dictator of the southern city. It was, after all, the political practices of the Tri-Khan, namely his lose alliance with the Realm, that allowed wealthy, Guild-aligned merchant families such as Caspian's own to stay in business. His parents, therefor, had good reason to to keep an eye on the political atmosphere in Chiaroscuro.
"And, you sister, is visiting with her intended..."
Caspian barely contained his surprise. Adella was engaged to be married? Had he really been gone for so long? He stopped to consider who his family may have chosen for her, but he had been away long enough that he had no idea. Who ever it was, Caspian decided, he had better make her happy or the man was going to meet with a swift and gruesome death.
Caspian looked back down at the man, who was clearly dwarfed by the merchant-prince's height. Hadeen was practically shaking in his boots, unnerved by the play of emotions on his superior's face. Caspian smiled at him again, and for once the twitchy little man seemed to calm himself.
"Thank you, there will be a bonus in your pay-packet." That, at least earned the first smile Caspian had yet seen from the man, though a tentative one. "Now, back to your duties, and do try to cheer up a bit. You look as though you've swallowed something unpleasant."
The man's eyes widened in shock, and then he smiled, genuinely for a change, and Caspian nodded to him as he turned to go back to his duties.
Caspian turned back to the servants that were bringing his belongings into the palatial manor just long enough to give them quick orders, before turning and climbing up the grand staircase and then striding down one of the many marble hallways towards his rooms.
His boot-clad feet created incongruous tapping echoes against the stone floors, completely at odds with the silent slippered footsteps of the servants he passed along the way. Caspian payed it no mind. After months sailing the merchant routes, the only thing on his mind was a warm bath... and perhaps some company, of the feminine variety.
He passed vast arched windows which allowed in the cooling breezes coming off the sea, and offered a magnificent view of the docks. He strode past beautiful tapestries from all over the Realm and beyond, and every conceivable display of wealth, from tremendous marble pillars, to intricate statues. It was his father's taste, really, and the fashion among the wealthy of many of the southern cities to emulated some of the styles seem in the Dynastic houses of the Realm. It bored Caspian.
He finally reached his chambers, and threw open the double doors. Inside, he was pleased to see, servants were already airing the rooms out, and by the sound coming from his bathing room, filling the large stone tub. He pushed through the door to the bathing chamber, stopping to watch as the servants finished pouring heated water and sweetly scented soap. The room was pleasantly cool, and the water, well heated.
Caspian chased away the servants that remained to help him undress (something he believed he was perfectly capable of doing himself), allowing only his manservant, Graca to remain behind. He shed his garments, and flexed tightly corded muscles as he eased himself into the water.
Caspian sighed in relief, allowing the warm water to help diminish the aches of long travel. He held still as Graca pulled a razor over his (mostly) bald head, leaving only the thick, black ponytail at the crown of his head untouched. He then told Graca to take the rest of the evening off, to do whatever it was that Graca did on his own time.
Caspian remained in the tub for sometime longer, finally pulling himself free of the water and retrieving a towel to dry himself with when the water became cold, and the sun had begun to set over the horizon. He pulled on a pair of loose silk pants, and an elaborate, silk, knee length tunic before leaving the bathing chamber, and returning to his sitting room.
The servants had all left, but the room was not empty. She was leaning against the arched doorway that lead to his balcony.
She stood there, regarding the sunset. The black silk dress she wore showed very little of her amazingly pale skin (skin that was very different from the darker mahogany found among the southerners) yet did little to hide her perfect form. As he stood there, she turned to face him, and brushed strands of straight black hair off her shoulder. Her every move was slow and languid. She fixed him with emerald-green eyes and smiled.
Despite her obvious foreignness, only a blind man would have been able to argue against her incredible beauty. Nevertheless, even though he professed to have a weakness for beautiful woman, Caspian didn't like Mikala, or whatever her real name was, in the slightest.
He remembered when his father had hired the woman as an astrologer, completely unaware of the caliber of the seer he was taking into his service. From the beginning she had showed an unusual interest in Caspian, who was then a much younger and more foolish man. At first he had been flattered to have the attention of such a magnificent creature, but something about her set him on edge, and the more time he spent around her, the more he was certain that she was not to be trusted. She seemed too aware; too sure of the future and his place in it.
But, despite his misgivings, Caspian realized with a barely suppressed shudder, he owed her his life.
She had warned him before his Exaltation; told him were he could go to hide. He wasn't certain why, but he had believed her, and he was glad of it now. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he had been seen. Chiaroscuro may have been a free city, but the Tri-Khan had never stopped the Empress's Wyld Hunt from operating within the city. Because of Mikala, he had been able to hide in cave until his caste-mark had faded from his forehead. The blasted thing had lingered for over a week, during which time it was Mikala who had brought him food and fresh clothing, and made excuses to his family for him.
When he had, at last, returned home, she had given him ancient documents and books that had helped explain to him what had happened to him. She had put him in touch with another Anathema, a sorcerer by the name of Crying Stream, and the two of them, with the aid of Stream's magic, had exchanged many letters.
He owed her so much, yet Caspian had still been unable to understand the feelings of unease that she filled him with. Not anymore, now he knew why.
Mikala locked her green eyes on to his black ones, her smile never wavering, despite his glower. When she spoke, her voice was like velvet.
"I had never pegged you for a coward, Caspian, of the Eclipse Caste." Her smile grew at his responding frown. "Yet, when I tell you that there are important things to be done, when I tell you that you that the time is coming to take action against the Dragon-Blooded, when I tell you that you must prepare, what do you do?" With each word she had stepped closer to him, until now she was only an arm's length away. "You run," she hissed, her smile becoming a sneer. " You take your ships and flee to oceans. You go to search for some near mythical pirate-queen whom you have no hope of finding." Her eyes flashed in annoyance and disdain.
"I have ever acted in your best interests," she continued. "Why then, can you not simply learn to trust me?"
She was no more than a hand's length away from him now, fixing him with an unnerving green gaze. Caspian felt his anger begin to build up. As swiftly as a wildcat he lashed out and caught her by the throat, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. Her eyes widened for a moment, before she calmed herself, neither struggling, nor protesting, leavening him holding her against the wall by her neck.
"Because, Sidereal," he said, spitting out the word like a curse, "I have learned many things, and remembered many things that death had taken from me." His eyes held hers now and his fingers tight on her neck, yet she showed no signs of fear. "I remembered how your kind betrayed us, and I remembered what it felt like to die. That, I can assure you, is not a feeling one easily forgets."
She watched him, her expression irritatingly inscrutable. "The you should know that you gave us little choice." His fingers tightened, and she seemed to take a moment to examine him, as if uncertain what to make of this uncharacteristic show of temper. "You should know, that not all of us agreed with the decision, but at the time we could see no other path."
"What do you mean?" he asked, quietly, trying to regain his calm.
"I will not discuss this with you, not now, and not like this. Release me."
Caspian eased his grip, momentarily embarrassed at his lack of control. He released her, and immediately turned his back on her, striding across the room to seat himself in a chair.
"I still have no reason to trust you, Sidereal," he told her, reaching to the table next to him for a crystal pitcher filled with chilled wine.
"My name, as I'm sure you should know, is Mikala." Her tone was acerbic; her expression was cold.
Caspian snorted. "Oh please, 'Mikala'? 'Servitor' in one of the elder tongues? I thought Sidereal where known for their subtlety?" He filled a goblet with and took a few sips before replacing it on the table.
She almost seemed pleased that he had picked up on that. "We are," she said, with the ghost of a smile gracing her lips. "Most people wouldn't have known that."
He snorted, gesturing for her to seat herself in one of the chairs opposite his own. "You still haven't given me any reason to trust you."
"Aside from saving your life?" she asked as she regarded the chair. He could tell she was still offended, and with good reason. He felt slightly ashamed of his earlier behavior, but only slightly.
"I have no reason to believe you didn't do that for your own benefit, as you so clearly want something from me." He was surprised when she walked across the room to stand in front of him. She dropped to one knee and fixed him with an intense stare.
"Then I will give you my oath! You are of the Eclipse, you can bind me to my words. But you must learn to trust me!"
Caspian balked at the look in her eyes. She grabbed one of his hands. He felt as if he'd been shocked, and he snatched it away quickly. As much sense as her suggestion made, he didn't want to be in anyway bound to this woman, with her foreign beauty and piercing eyes.
She seemed to sense this, because she pulled away and seated herself opposite him.
"You were gone for over a year."
He didn't respond. He merely retrieved his glass of wine and stared into its depths. Her voice had held an accusation, and he had nothing to say to that. When she remained silent, it became clear that she was expecting him to reply.
Caspian sighed, not taking his eyes from the glass. "Yes, well, I am a merchant, and sometimes it becomes necessary for me to accompany the ships."
Her snot of disdain caused him to tighten his grip on his wineglass in annoyance.
"That is a lie. Those ships would have done well without you. You weren't needed there, and most wise merchants, having heard that pirates were particularly active in an area, would have gone in the other direction.
He said nothing, so she continued. "You were looking for her, this pirate captain. You should have spoken to me, I could have helped you."
"Would you have?" he asked with a sneer. "Would it have been part of your plan?"
"How important is finding her to you?"
Caspian looked her over, intently. Her voice had been filled with some unrecognizable emotion. Hurt? Impossible.
He couldn't come up with an answer to her inquiry. He didn't have one. He didn't know himself, so instead he said, "She's another Solar, I'm sure of it."
"That goes without saying, but you haven't answered my question."
Caspian looked away, avoiding her gaze. "I'm tired of being alone."
He heard her exhale slowly. "You aren't. I put you into contact with Crying Stream, didn't I?"
"It isn't the same, and he hasn't been responding to my letters."
"He has... rather a lot to deal with at the moment. Why is this, is she, so important?" she asked. He still didn't respond, his gaze drawn to the view of the sea out the massive windows. Mikala sighed. "Very well, I will help you with this."
At her statement, Caspian turned back to meet her eyes. They were as unreadable as always. He opened his mouth to say something, though what, he wasn't sure, perhaps he was going to thank her, but she cut him off.
"I can show you where to take your ships to meet her. That, however, is all I can do. Convincing her not to kill you, is your business." Her voice was brusque, businesslike, but her eyes flashed with some hidden emotion. "It will not, however, be anytime soon," she continued, despite his sudden sour expression. "There are things yet that I need to do, and likewise, I believe your pirate is currently indisposed."
Caspian snorted. "What then, am I suppose to do in the meantime?" It came out sound rather more petulant than he had intended, but he had a hard time forcing himself to care.
As Mikala stood from her chair, she gave him a look like someone regarding an annoying child. "Take up a hobby maybe?" she said with an acerbic smile "Or spend sometime with your family, perhaps. Your sister is to be married soon, perhaps you should plan on attending the wedding. I believe you will be able to find something to keep you amused, just please, remember to keep a low profile. We do not need to deal with the Wyld Hunt at just this moment."
As she turned to leave the room, he rolled his eyes at her retreating back and propped his feet up on the small table in front of him. "Well I was planning on simply announcing myself to them, but you have made me see my error," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I would think you have learned to give me a bit more credit than that."
She stopped with one hand on the door and without turning to face him she said, "Odd, how that works both ways," and then she was gone, the large door closing behind her with a heavy thud.
He sat there for some time as the day's last light faded from the room, glaring at the door, trying to force down his annoyance. Part of his mind insisted that she had a point, and that only served to annoy him more.
He tightened his grip on the wine glass as he thought about what she had said. Feeling the surface begin to buckle under the pressure, he forced himself to relax. He inhaled deeply before looking down at the remaining ruby-red dregs.
He hated the way she made him feel as if he wasn't in control of himself, and of his own destiny. It always seemed as if she somehow manged to manipulate him into doing as she wanted, and he was certain that this time as no exception. This annoyed him beyond all else. He was accustomed to having people dance to his tune, not the other way around.
"What is happening to me?" he asked himself, heaving a heavy sigh, before putting the glass down on the table and getting to his feet. He glanced around his darkened surroundings, suddenly feeling very weary. He walked to the door and called on one of the waiting servants to prepare his bed. He could greet his family in the morning, but for now, he needed rest.