In Lost Dreams the Four Were Bound

39 - Nerin - Troubled Intrigues

[Vivahr Nerin.] One voice played in his head after another as he spoke with a lowborn Hyunisti about their woes and melodrama.

The flock took to his wishes in ridding themselves of objects sanctifying their feeble past and culture. He should have been happy about their acceptance; it was a victory above all else. But as he conducted the day, the endless greetings had wormed their way into his psyche. Each face and syllable filled him with duress and reprehension. He was no brother in blood or race to these weak men and women but played the part nonetheless. He was so close to the promised day. He just needed to suffer it all a little longer.

"Vivahr Nerin," an old grey-eyed talvuo said as he passed by Nerin's rigid frame.

"Vivahr." Nerin feigned pleasure as he greeted the leather-garbed talvuo. The day had worn on him. His hospitality was at its end. He was exhausted, and some unspoken cruelty in the back of his mind made him want to run screaming from the treetops.

Was it the Virage's lingering presence somewhere about? He had seen him wandering with Neris in the afternoon. He watched as she hung about him, flirting and pandering to onlookers. The circles they made seemed sinister as Nerin had worked on his projects.

Or perhaps it was the missing Kadin, whom he had tried to summon for the better part of the late morning. The sniveling weasel had run from the boughs of the tree after a night stewing over his transgressions. But shame was no excuse for lack of diligence. When Nerin called, he was expected to come. Nerin could send one of the fire keepers or grunts, but none of them had the instincts not to give away their intent. Maybe it was the lack of eyes and ears to spy upon the monster and his sister.

"Vivahr Nerin. Vindal Thaimi." A pair of dusty-headed women approached and bowed.

Nerin shot them a smile while the Hyunisti woman beside him bowed. The villagers had started to make their rounds as the afternoon grew long, with the sunlight growing gold and hazy in the distance. Festivities had begun as food and drink were served about the terraces. The Hyunisti laid out all their finery, though it was tepid for even the most backward of peoples. Still, Nerin felt compelled to acknowledge them despite their lack of sophistication or tangible bounty.

"Good evening, and enjoy yourselves, vindals." Thaimi's plain voice was pleasant as the two departed. Nerin shot her a glance and watched her dull green eyes survey the couple's path before returning to the nearby oven. "Isn't this pleasant, vivahr?"

"I care not if it's pleasant. I care only that the evening comes and is done with," Nerin said spitefully beneath heavy breaths. Every time the woman talked, it was like a weight was placed upon his chest. He had spent too much time with such company. "I should leave you to this rabble."

"Still yourself, my lord," Thaimi said. A confluence of reassurance washed over his gilded figure as he stood with his purple robes on the grand terrace before his tree-like fortress. Yet the placation could not breach his ego.

"I'll be stilled once all this is over," he said. The woman was a perfect supplicant, but she had an infuriating way of seeming to command his senses. The thought he may be taking a liking to her was frustrating in and of itself. She was bent to supplicate and serve his whims and needs, ordained to join her fellow maidens in serving her bland nectar. She was and should be nothing more. "You would do well to remember who speaks and commands, Thaimi."

"As you will it, vivahr," she said in a voice of perfect servitude. Yet in his head, she mocked him. No, she was just wearing on his nerves.

"I'm going to retire for a bit," Nerin said as he made to retreat. The woman shuffled her feet, but he waved her away. "No, stay for now. Leave me be."