(A.N. - I'm dedicating this chapter to karriezai since it was her idea I do it. Thanks for being a long time reader and telling me about this place to begin with.)
Contains spoilers for SKY WOMAN and RUNE KNIGHT
Seventh of Sun, Imperial Year 1342
One Year Before the Fall of Shan Alee
Naius, heart glowing, burst in through the front door of her home. She wished to cry out and announce to the entire world what had happened. At long last, she had done it.
Third summit, she thought, finding it hard to believe even now. Flames, the governor ascended my name. I'm not a nomin anymore. I'm a sion, a full citizen!
Naius bit her lip to contain her excitement, but a delighted squeal managed to escape regardless. Before she did anything else, she had someone she needed to thank.
Her home was built of sandstone. Floors were marble, and the walls were paneled with dark wood from the east. Her large foyer was lined with clay or copper urns, each containing soil and flora. Naius grew herbs, vegetables, and flowers of all varieties within her pots and up on her terraced roof. These were the lifeblood of her trade.
Perpetually stained fingers attested to her long years spent as an alchemist's apprentice. She'd been sent to her master as a girl of five and received education in biology, botany, physiology, medicine, spellcraft, and alchemical theory. Her parents had given nearly all they had to pay Master Vatoor Ontarion Second Summit to accept a nomin into his care. They passed away long before they could see what Naius made of herself with their sacrifice. For their honored memory, she resolved to make them proud.
Once she was released from her teacher's service, Naius used her meager savings to buy a rundown home within the mercantile district. Her neighbors were slow to accept a new— and rather ambitious— nomin girl amongst them, but Naius' growing skill as a healer and her affordable alchemical spells were swaying the sions to look on her kindly.
She was nineteen, only three years out of her apprenticeship, but Naius could now stand proud as a true citizen of Shan Alee.
Her home had evolved over time and was now richly decorated. Naius had been doing all she could to show that she had the means to be recognized as a sion. Nearly every coin she earned from selling her spells and medical services went into acquiring prestige and advancing her status. Necessities were forsaken for affectations. All according to her designs, but if Naius hadn't been able to grow her own produce, she'd likely have starved within her first year on her own.
Now that she was a citizen, she'd have to improve her home even further, or she'd always be seen as an upstart grasping above her true station. If she made enough sales in the coming month, she could get an artisan to carve spellwrought ornamentation on the house's facade. That would do wonders for her prestige, and she'd no longer be accused of having the only drab house on the street.
If things go really well, she mused, I could get the whole house spellwrought. That would stick in Alak's craw.
As Naius went a few steps further into her home, she came to the mural on the lefthand wall and knelt down. It was a mosaic, shards of painted tile artfully put together by an artisan who owed her a favor. The radiant figure depicted at the center and his golden dragon of legend stared kindly back at her.
"Your will reaching across light and time," she murmured, offering her prayer to the Founder. "Your sion gives thanks for your blessings this day, Dragon Emperor Inwe, Father of Shan Alee."
Naius hopped up to her feet, and leaned towards the mosaic. A grin spread across her face, and she traced her hand affectionately over the gold dragon's stern face. "Thanks be to you as well, Darkoo."
Singing to herself, Naius went to a mirror opposite the mosaic in her entry hall. She first put her golden hair into order. After that, she inspected the coloring around her eyes and on her lips. Both were painted green, an exact match to the emerald shade of her eyes. The steel ring in her nose was set and even, but she frowned as she looked at her upper lip; Naius hated her slight overbite. Fortunately, her dark brown skin was no worse for wear after having been out in the dry heat all day.
The sentinel city of Marwin lay in an arid region of the empire, close to Espalla Province. While Marwin wasn't anywhere near as bad as the rocky deserts of the north, the weather tended to get hot as a kiln in the summer.
She touched gingerly at her stomach. Her newest adornment was still tender beneath her cotton dress, but she reveled in the slight pain. As a citizen, she had the right to display a sion's piercing. Naius decided it was as good a time as any to change her clothes. She acquired something special earlier in the year for an occasion such as this.
Naius stopped in mid stride when a light but insistent knock sounded against her door. She prayed to the flames for patience as she turned back around. It would have been preferable to greet her next visitor dressed according to her new station, but the subdued and confining dress of a nomin would have to do for now. Naius hoped it wasn't anyone important.
She opened the door and felt her heart sink. Not because of who stood there, but for who he heralded. Wisp himself was a delight, and she thought of him as a dear heart. His master, however...
"I'm sorry, love," Wisp said as soon as he saw her. "He's on his way."
The man on Naius' doorstep was no Aleesh. He wasn't even mortal. His skin was the color of the sky before a storm, his long hair was pure white, and his pale yellow eyes were like slivers of topaz. Wisp had a handsome face— few of the mighty chose uncomely forms when they walked as humans— with a cleft chin and a strong jaw like the daan from the Crimson Steppes. His only articles of clothing were a white loincloth and a leather baldric crisscrossing his muscled chest. A scabbard holding his master's sword hung from his back.
Naius sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Must he? Today?"
"He is early, I know." Wisp looked intrigued. "Why? Did something happen today?"
"Something did, indeed," Naius replied with a wink. "How much longer until I have the pleasure of his worship's company?"
"As long as it takes for him to convince Pomi to pay him an advance on next month."
Naius snorted. "Well then, we might have all day." She stepped away from the door. "Come in. I'll make you something to drink before he's done extorting ingots from nomin."
Wisp smiled and touched his forehead as he stepped inside. "You're always too kind, love."
"Too kind to you? Never."
Naius adored dragons. She only knew a spare handful, and the number she was familiar with could be counted on one hand. Nonetheless, each had lived up to and exceeded her expectations.
Dragons remained as grand, as powerful, and as kind as they had been since the Founding. It was only a shame that the knights they were bound to didn't always share those same qualities. The mighty had been revered in the empire since Inwe and Darkoo forged Shan Alee from the ashes of a desolate and hostile world. Dragons were owed far more respect than they were given nowadays.
Naius gestured for Wisp to sit at the low table in her entry hall. He murmured his thanks as he knelt down on a cushion and lit the coals at the table's center with his sorcery.
Stealing into the kitchen, Naius had to raise her voice to be heard. "Are you at all peckish, Wisp? I've some megathon cutlets in the icebox."
"No, thank you. Tea is more than enough for me, love."
Naius pulled her teapot down from its hook, filled it with water from her cistern, then set it over the locked Cordek sigil on her countertop. "Suit yourself," she said as she began preparing the tea leaves. "I can't imagine Alak serving a fine table."
"His worship himself, no," Wisp chuckled. "Dear Mellis, fortunately, is a marvel with wild game."
Naius remembered the woman, property of Alak. She had dark eyes when she dared to raise them. A so-called daan— the "honored"— from nearby Thandor. The thought put a pit into Naius' stomach.
Inwe would weep to see what's become of his empire, Naius thought sadly. She thought it often.
The tea was soon ready. Naius returned to Wisp and poured him a large cup. "A new blend I've been experimenting with," she explained, taking a seat opposite him. "I hope you like it."
Wisp rewarded her with a good-natured smirk. "Am I to be your test subject?"
Naius flipped her hair in mock arrogance. "It is your pleasure, mighty dragon. Jasmine lightly cured with feverbane oil."
Wisp hummed in appreciation at his first sip. "Delicate and sweet. There is something else, though. A green flavor."
"The experiment," Naius said. "Have you ever heard of a Thandi plant called vex?"
Wisp shook his head.
Naius indicated an urn behind her that was home to a tangle of thin, little sprouts. "It appears to be a more delicate variety of alfalfa, but it is an entirely different species."
"Botany was never my strength," Wisp said.
"This will interest you." Naius poured herself a cup and sampled the tea. "Perhaps you've noticed something? I imagine you must be running low on ether this late in the day."
Wisp sat in consideration, then his eyes widened in astonishment. "My ether is replenishing. Twofold of normal!"
Naius hummed. "I'd hoped for threefold. Perhaps if I invested it a little first."
Wisp gulped down his cup. "You continue to astound me, love. If only more could see what I do."
The smile blooming across Naius' face was a genuine one. To be called "love" by a dragon was a beautiful gift. It hearkened back to the earlier days of the empire, when the Aleesh remembered what the name of their people truly meant.
The people most beloved of the mighty.
Naius believed that to mean as a parent loved their child and not what many now assumed— as a servant revered their master. It was more than a thousand years since the days of Inwe and Darkoo, hundreds of generations. Now, the mighty were treated with little more respect than a high citizen would give a nomin.
Things would change before much longer. They needed to.
She only needed to look outside to find the evidence. Naius' home lay in sight of the Daanmirata, the "House of the Honored". It was no more than an ugly slave pen. The despicable work of the Amethyst Knights brought dozens of daan into Marwin each day, fitted them with collars, broke them, and then sold them to the heartless highborn of Shan Alee. The other races of humanity had no hope to resist, because only the Aleesh possessed any capacity for magic.
"Those are dark clouds hanging over your head, love," Wisp observed. "When you said something happened today, I'd hoped it was something good."
"No, it was," Naius replied. "I was only thinking of other things."
"Troubling times," Wisp agreed, though he misunderstood the heart of Naius' malaise. "Fewer arcanist knights go before Emperor Shoen to receive the bond each year. No more than seven since last summer and all of them Rubies and Onyx. My own knight was the last Sapphire to be forged."
Naius pursed her lips and leaned her elbows on the table. "You ask me, we could do with fewer Alaks in Marwin."
"He has his faults, love," Wisp allowed, but that was as harsh as Naius had ever heard him speak of his master. "Bonded knights are needed to safeguard the empire. I don't know if you've heard, but the daan in Thandor have attacked Amethysts. They flock to the call of a warlord named Gara. Inside of ten years, Marwin may have barbarians at the gates."
"Hard to blame them, isn't it?" Naius challenged. "When faced with the same a thousand years ago, didn't we decide it was better to die on our feet than to live in chains?"
Wisp sighed. "I wonder if you'll be so understanding when Gara and her family of killers arrive."
Naius kept her jaw firmly set. "I will. Why should the daan see us as any better than we saw the old masters?"
The widening of Wisp's eyes was fearful. "Please, love, be careful of who you say such things to. The Onyx don't look kindly upon talk they might see as... seditionist."
Naius frowned. "They can look however they wish. There are more like me than they could ever know."
"Please, love."
"But that's enough of that," she said brightly. "I'm starting to think I had time to get dressed before Alak got here."
"Are you not?" Wisp asked, eyeing her clothing.
"I've thought long and hard for a family name," Naius said playfully. "I was thinking a portmanteau of my parents'."
She seemed to have once again surprised Wisp. "A surname? Love, are you saying..."
"Naius Doralean Third Summit, at your service, my dear dragon."
Wisp grinned in delight. "How?"
Naius winked over her cup at him. "You're not the only one who liked my tea. I convinced an Opal Knight to pen an academic sponsorship to the governor. Her dragon was most impressed."
"You met a silver?" Wisp exclaimed. "Who? Not the Librarian himself?"
"Flames, Wisp, as if I could get within a league of the emperor's wed-daughter. No, it was Tanri Domeas and the Chronicler." Naius gave a nervous laugh. "I almost lost my head to her Emerald bodyguard when I ran up with my fistful of vex sprouts."
"I've rarely even seen one of the Imperials," Wisp murmured. "Golds and silvers only hatch an egg once or twice a decade. Darkoo the Majestic has been smiling on you, love."
Naius opened her mouth to respond just as the front door was shoved open. No knock. No request for entry. Even into the home of a nomin, it was an act that bordered upon violation. Naius had come to expect no less from Alak Duvain Third Summit, Sapphire Knight.
"Naius," Alak bellowed, "where's my tribute, girl?"
He wore a chain and mail hauberk, and he was wealthy enough to afford several fitted plates over his chest and back. A spiked pauldron guarded his right shoulder, and every inch of his armor was lacquered a deep blue color.
Alak was clean-shaven, baring his effeminate chin to the world. His golden hair was waist-length and spectacular. He had long lashes and delicate cheek-bones, immaculate skin, clear eyes, and full lips. Truthfully, Alak was a definitive specimen of an ideal Aleesh man. That was the length and breadth of the positive aspects Naius could name.
He was a boor. There was no one Naius could imagine who could better illustrate everything wrong with Shan Alee. All superficial beauty with nothing good beneath the facade. Beautiful and black-hearted. Arrogant, unintelligent, and cruel.
"Your worship," Naius said politely as she came to stand. She gave him a formal bow. "As always, you prove to be the utmost caricature of dubious accountability."
"Eh?" Alak demanded. "What's that, girl? Speak up."
"I'm merely stating how you continue to give off the air of imperiousness and flatulence."
"Imperial-ness?" Alak said, quite pleased. "A fine eye, girl. Mayhaps I had you pegged wrong."
A subtle glance revealed that Wisp was having difficulty containing his laughter.
"Move your arse, boy," Alak shouted behind him. "Get in here, else I'll have you flogged!"
A Thandi boy came inside her home. He was no older than Naius was. Younger, it seemed. He was silent and his eyes stayed on the marble floor. A black iron strongbox was in his arms.
Naius tried to keep her expression neutral, but she wanted desperately to clench her fists. Alak dared to parade a slave in front of her. It was already too much to know such travesties were being committed within a quarter-league of her threshold, but to have the practice cross it...
"There you are, Fonn." Alak turned back to Naius and tapped a finger impatiently against the top of his strongbox. "Now, girl. My tribute."
Naius spared Fonn a glance. Pale and slender, as most Thandi. Not all that pretty, though far from otherwise. He had strong arms for his diminutive frame; even Naius was taller than him. Fonn, of course, wore the silvered collar of bondage. It encircled his neck tightly, and it bore scratched markings in his native tongue. Naius had always wondered why the daan did that, but she never could muster the courage to ask. It felt as if she didn't have the right to interrogate someone that her people had wronged so terribly.
"You're a week early," Naius pointed out to Alak.
"Times as they are," Alak grunted impatiently, as if that justified everything. "I've no time for womanly prattle. You have this month's tribute or no?"
"Your indulgence, your worship," Naius said sweetly. "Would you give me but a moment to gather it? I'm afraid you've caught me somewhat off-guard, but it is of course my pleasure to be of service."
Alak appeared torn. On the one hand, it must have been gratifying to see her bow and scrape, but he must have also been in a rush to pay off whomever it was he owed money to. At last, he relented. "Just be quick about it, girl."
"My thanks, your worship. I trust you will be pleasantly surprised. Wisp, would you pour his worship some tea while he waits?"
Naius listened to Alak proclaim loudly and at length how he had no desire for any sort of tea.
"I'll not accept the swill of a nomin," he bellowed. "I am Alak Duvain Third Summit, girl. A Sapphire Knight. A sion and true citizen of the Empire of Scales! My family has served the Dragon Emperors since before your bloodline crawled out of the muck. No better than daan, you little nomin."
Naius went into her bedroom at the end of her hall, rolling her eyes as she shut the door behind her. Alak was certainly in top form today. A high citizen must have given him a hard time, and he was salving his wounded pride with this tirade.
It didn't abate through all the time Naius took in changing her clothes. She'd burn the garments of a nomin later, a ceremonial sacrifice to the spirits and her ancestors. Immediately after, she'd need to purchase more sion garb. It just wouldn't do to be seen in the same outfit every day.
Her silk leggings, loose and flowing, were a pale blue. Over them, she wore a sheer sarong tied about her waist. Her matching shai was cropped to just beneath the bosom, exposing more midriff and cleavage than she'd ever before dared, and the broad straps lay gently over her shoulders.
The body of a citizen was to be seen as a work of art, adorned and on display for all to admire. To expose it when one didn't have the right was an insult to those above on the higher summits. Concealing it suggested the citizen had something to hide, be it deformity or secret heresy.
Flames, but this looks nice, Naius mused as she inspected herself in a standing mirror. I could stand to gain a little more weight, though. My ribs are showing.
Going to her bookshelf, Naius shuffled through her vellum notebooks and codexes. This was where she hid her valuables.
She picked up a small purse filled with twenty silver ingots, then took one last look at herself in the miror. Naius inspected the piercing in her navel. It was white gold and set with a pink opal, symbolizing her ascension by the will of an Opal Knight. It had cost her more than four months of Alak's extortion, but it was worth it for the next few moments alone.
After all the ingots I've thrown out lately, I'll need to sell a dozen investitures just to get my ledger balanced. She pushed those cares down. This was earned, and she would reward herself. A lean month or two is nothing new. I've made it at last.
Naius put a practiced sway into her hips as she returned to the foyer. Wisp was standing now and pretending he didn't see the glare that Alak was giving him. The daan boy, Fonn, was the first to notice Naius. Fonn's cheeks turned red, and he averted his eyes from her bare skin.
"Flames and brimstone," Alak swore when he saw her. He clenched his teeth and looked ready to demand an explanation. His eyes landed on Naius' navel piercing. Then, unexpected, his entire demeanor changed. Alak bowed to her, his upper body parallel with the floor.
Naius blinked. This wasn't going as she envisioned.
"Humblest apologies," Alak said, his voice calm and even. "I was unaware of your ascension, lady sion. I beg forgiveness for entering your dwelling without leave. It will never happen again."
Dumbfounded— and a little put out, to be honest— Naius murmured something to the effect that it was forgiven. Alak straightened, and Naius stepped forward to hand him the bag of silver.
He held a palm up in refusal. "I could not possibly accept," he said.
Flames, he's even changed his accent. He's halfway to speaking in Aeldic.
"In fact," Alak said, "I should present you with a gift, lady sion. In return, I would ask your name."
"Doralean," Naius replied carefully. She watched Alak like a hawk, wary of some manner of... something.
Alak took the iron chest from Fonn's hands, then pushed the boy forward. "My gift to you. Able bodied and stronger than he looks. I'm told Fonn has a sharp mind, though I've not seen it. Let him be yours, as a gesture of my regard. May he serve you well."
Fonn looked at Naius as if she were a monster. His eyes were filled with fright. For her part, Naius was certain she was looking back at him in much the same way.
Alak went to the door and bowed to Naius again. "By your leave, lady sion. With permission, I will return with Fonn's documentation at a later time. Perhaps I would accept your offer of tea and guest-rights."
He left, and Wisp followed him. The dragon paused to offer Naius a shrug and a sympathetic look before shutting the door behind them.
The piercing. Alak went weird when he saw her navel piercing. Naius felt like a fool. Of course Alak acted as he had. Naius was sponsored by an Opal Knight, whose numbers were drawn exclusively from the first summit. That put Naius much higher in prestige than even a Sapphire Knight.
Wisp's boorish knight was unintelligent, but he was savvy. He recognized immediately that she had a powerful patron invested in her future. He hadn't refused the ingots out of respect, but fear of an Opal Knight.
Naius grimaced. That hadn't been near as satisfying as she'd hoped it would be. Worse, Alak said he'd come back and expected tea and chitchat. Naius fought back a revolted shudder.
Flames take him, she thought. He might have been hitting on me.
Looking down at the bag of silver still in her hands, Naius remembered that she wasn't alone in her home. She looked up at Fonn, who was trying his utmost to turn invisible.
Alak had given her a slave.
It took a few moments for that to sink in. Each second, her utter revulsion at the idea of owning another mortal compounded upon itself. Naius was near to trembling with outrage.
Fonn saw her anger. He pressed his hands against his thighs to keep them from quaking.
Naius stepped towards him and held his collar in her fingers. The boy flinched.
"None of that," Naius said. She moderated her tone, doing her best to keep her irritation with Alak from showing. "I will not have a guest in my home wearing this vile thing."
The collars of bondage weren't simple metal bands. They were theurallurgic constructs attuned to their wearer by a drop of blood. All but unbreakable, the collars would lead a bondsman or Amethyst Knight straight to a slave who ran away or was stolen. Fortunate for Fonn, Naius had learned the method of removing them. It was a simple transmutation, and alchemists were singularly adept at that school of magic.
Naius let her ether pass into the metal. She found its imprint and that of a tiny, internal mechanism. At the touch of her ether, the collar seemed to fade into mist. Naius pulled it from Fonn's neck, the misty metal passing right through him, and the collar became whole again.
"So there," Naius said, handing the collar to him. "I will not own a slave. Not for an instant. You can stay here until I can figure out some way to get you back to Thandor."
Naius went to her table and stacked the teacups and saucers.
"Back to Thandor?" Fonn whispered. His voice was hoarse. "I've... never been to Thandor, mistress."
"My name is Naius," she replied. "Call me that, please. Are you saying you were born in Shan Alee?"
Fonn nodded. He stared at the collar in his hands and rubbed his neck as if finding it difficult to believe it was really off him. "You're... one of them?"
"Them?" Naius asked. "The Aleesh? Yes, but that doesn't mean I have to like what the slavers are doing."
"No." Fonn said, though Naius noted that he was being careful not to interrupt her. "Not them. Them."
Naius planted her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow.
Fonn swallowed nervously before explaining himself. "You're an abolitionist?"
"I've not a clue what you refer to," Naius said while nodding. She then gathered her dishes.
The ghost of an amused smile crossed Fonn's lips. His eyes weren't as fearful anymore when they looked at her. Wary, yes, and he was determined to keep his eyes above her neck. However, Naius was pleased beyond measure to see what might have been a glimmer of hope in him.
Fonn stepped forward and took the teacups out of her hands. "Allow me, mistress."
"You don't need to," she protested. "Flames, and don't call me that."
"Can't get out of the habit," he said. "What if someone heard me call you by name? Or give you a sincere compliment?"
Naius felt a small flush of her own coming on. She watched his back as he took the teacups into the kitchen. "Thank you, Fonn."
He paused briefly in his tracks before resuming. "That's not my name."
Naius made a horrified face. "Alak even took your name away?"
When he returned, he was rubbing the rough inscription on his collar with a thumb. "That's why we write them down," he said. "So they can't be taken away."
He looked surprised that he'd revealed what he had and looked on the edge of panic. Naius smiled for him to put him at ease.
"So, what is your name?"
"Krayson, mistress."
They stood staring at each other for a time. Naius hardly noticed it had gone on longer than was strictly normal. Or proper, for that matter. Naius extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Krayson."
Hesitant, he took it. "And I you, Mistress Naius."