Plans For A Treasure Adventure! Prepare to Set Sail!
As they entered the rear area of the establishment, the thick, salt incrusted curtains draped behind them silently, dampening the noise from outside. Although it was only a thin wall, the cries and cheers soon become completely muffled, casting a sullen atmosphere inside the room. The area itself seemed to only be made of curtains, crimson in color, with matching handwoven carpets, stained with dirt and seaweed from years of thoughtless, sea hardy boots. On the walls were various tapestries with many different pirate emblems. At their base sat stacks of moth eaten books and wrinkled maps. One candle flickered on a small wooden table, lonely and steady, casting a warm tone through the darkness.
There was a distinct smell in the air. The unmistakable scent of musky, pungent Dousan incense. Tavra's nose could immediately distinguish the bizarre aroma; an array of rare spices and herbs from the desert. With each one she remembered, another distant memory flooded her mind. Another emotion, thick like the haze before them. With mild shock, both Tavra and Onica immediately realized that the room's darkness was not due to lack of light, but the blanket of smoke that covered their eyes. They coughed and waved the clouds away from their noses and mouths, scanning the room for their host.
"Please, sit down," Athyra's voice called out from the shadow. Another candle burst to life beside her, releasing the small room from it's shade.
As Tavra and Onica turned toward her, they could now see a silhouette taking a seat in a rather large, plush arm chair with wooden carvings protruding from the arms and spine. They searched the area around them, and discovered two old rum barrels, one which was still half full, with two soft decorative pillows placed on top. The fancy design seemed very out of place inside this dank environment. Most likely theft, Tavra imagined. But she and Onica took their seats and awaited the Captain's next move.
But instead of speaking, Athyra simply slouched in her chair, reaching for her hip into a small leather pouch, worn and tied with pieces of ropes. She removed a long, wooden pipe--a device that appeared too large for the pouch it was in--and began to smash the head against the arm of the chair. Tavra and Onica watched as tiny bits of black ash and plant matter burst from the bowl and scattered onto the floor. Tavra suddenly felt bad for whoever was tasked with cleaning this room, if in fact anyone did.
"It is so good to see a pure Vapran again," Athyra finally spoke, blowing two bursts of air through her pipe. Her beauty seemed to disappear among the shade and smoke. Her black eyes took on a new life in the dark, enveloping her with a malevolent energy. "Hair as white as the snow," she sang, "skin as fair as the Silver Sea, wings as radiant as the skies."
"Poem of the Painted Sky," Tavra remarked with a smile, identifying a old Vapran poem of friendship and welcome. But in this moment, it was unclear to her if Athyra was truly attempting to befriend her, or simply attempting to win her affection.
"I see you've done your reading," Athyra nodded to her. She placed a fingerful of dried green flowers into her bowl, packing them tight with an ash-black stained thumb, cracked and hardened like the tip of spear.
"My sister, actually," Tavra confirmed. "Brea has not left our library since she was born. She's even started a book of her own. She knows that poem well. We all do,"
"Ah yes, a royal," Athyra sat forward with interest. "A royal in my service."
"Let's not overstep, Athyra," Onica interjected, waving a hand in her direction.
Athyra nodded thoughtfully and slouched back into her chair once more. With a snap of flame, she sparked a small device for lighting her pipe, and drew in the orange tail. As she exhaled, a blue wreath of smoke surrounded her head, like a crown of waves wafting above her. "Indeed," she finally said.
"And as a Vapran," Tavra continued, "I am equally curious about you, Athyra."
Athyra straightened and lifted her hands to the sky. "Of course, I am here to answer all of your questions," there was a sly, yet sweet tone to her voice.
Tavra took an unexpected deep breath before she began. As she exhaled, she was suddenly stricken with far more questions than she had anticipated. "From the moment I first saw you, I must admit my interest has been stirred."
"How so?"
"Well..." she was careful not to sound aggressive. "What I expect when I picture a traditional Vapran...is not you. I suspect many of my questions would find answers by merely discussing your appearance."
Athyra sat forward again and opened her eyes wider, exhaling a breath of smoke as she placed her elbows on her knees. "Do I frighten you, mighty Katavra?"
"Hardly," Tavra narrowed her gaze. "But I will admit, I do not believe I have ever seen a Vapran so, exotic?"
"Nor I," Onica added, crossing her arms.
Athyra smiled almost bashfully, dropping her head to the crusty floor. She appeared oddly innocent in this moment, as if recalling a mass of forgotten memories. She bobbed her head in agreeance. "Well, that was the point," she locked eyes with Tavra. "And I am not Vapran anymore. My time with that clan has long been over."
Tavra wrinkled her face. "Your distaste for them has grown to the point of altering your very appearance?"
"Who said it was distaste?" Athyra snapped. She reclined into her chair again. "It's the past. Nothing more than memories behind me, and that is where I intend to keep them."
Tavra nodded. "Fair enough. But I must ask--your hair, it's red. Your eyes are black! How?"
Athyra smirked and grasped a tuft of her dark red hair. "Dye. Special blend made from red alga and whale fat."
"Sure it's not the blood of your enemies, or something dramatic like that?" Onica mocked with a raised eyebrow.
Athyra tilted her head with a conniving expression. "Could be some in there," she smiled.
"And your eyes?" Tavra continued her inquisition. Athyra lifted a finger to one of her eyes, and slid a wide shard away from the surface. It glinted in the candlelight like an obsidian shard.
"What is that?" Onica became intrigued, edging closer to get a better look.
"Glass. Thin as the pearl surface inside sea shells," she spun the shard between her fingers. "They take a full trine to create. Invented by master Sifan glass-workers."
"Very impressive, I must say," Onica stated.
"Yes," Tavra agreed. "Even the glass-workers in Ha'rar would be challenged to match this craftsmanship." Athyra beamed proudly.
"Any practical uses?" Onica wondered. "Besides intimidation, of course," her slightly condescending tone returned.
Athyra's smile distorted. "They are wonderful at blocking the sun and glare as well," she quickly placed the glass piece back into her eye. "And perfect for shading those I wish not to see."
"Are you saying us?" Onica pointed between herself and Tavra.
Athyra waved her hand dismissively. "Of course not,"
"And yet," Tavra was still lost in Athyra's emerging story. "Something I still do not understand, is why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why did you come here--why did you change?" she continued to inquire.
Athyra shook her head. "That is a story for another day, my dear Tavra. But worry not, that day will come."
"Sounds fair," Onica held her hand up as if to stop the conversation. "The past can wait, we are long overdue for some explanation on our future, I believe."
"Is that not where you come in, Onica, great Far-Dreamer?" now it was Athyra becoming witty.
"Well I'm not sure, I have yet to know anything," she shrugged.
Athyra took another long drag from her pipe, then placed it down on the arm of her chair. As she began to speak, trails of smoke poured from her lush, weathered lips. "...I have a proposition for you."
"A job, in other words," Onica remarked with a passive tone.
"An adventure." Athyra corrected.
"I am almost afraid to ask what you would consider an adventure,"
Athyra jerked forward. "You should feel honored to be chosen to sail with my crew!"
"Not if it involves the risk my life!" Onica tapped her chest vigorously. "A feeling which grows each minute around you,"
Tavra placed a hand softly on Onica's arm. "Onica, please,"
"What? This is actually interesting to you?" she asked.
Tavra smiled as warmly as she could, attempting to calm her lover's nerves. "Call it the adventurer in me."
Onica sighed, deciding to give into the moment. "Fine, Athyra. Let's hear you," she motioned to her as if to signal she was ready.
"Thank you," Athyra bowed her head in a slightly respectful manner.
"Just don't tell me this is some kind of silly pirate treasure adventure," Onica added as a final, sarcastic note.
Athyra paused for a moment. "And what is so silly about that?"
Onica's jaw fell open. "Oh, you can't be truthful!" she became enlivened again, throwing her hands in the air. "I was hardly being serious. You called us out here for games? A child's treasure fantasy tale?"
"Even fantasy tales have roots in reality," Athyra stated with a coy smile.
"No riddles, please," Onica pleaded.
A sudden darkness came over Athyra. Shadows grew behind her. Her face elongated and sharpened with a fierce expression. "Then calm yourself, Onica, and listen."
Onica was unsure at first, but when Tavra squeezed her arm gently, she let it sooth her nerves and forced herself to relax. When Athyra could tell both were finally ready to listen, she settled in her chair and found the best place to begin her words.
"I have a quest I wish to fulfill," she said, folding her fingers together. "Fit for only the most noble and brave warriors."
"You want us to act as mercenaries?" Tavra commented.
"Treasure hunters," Onica interrupted. "And I can tell you now, we have no interest in that. Nor fame or wealth."
Athyra grinned. "Not wealth. Immortality."
"We have no interest in that either,"
"No?" Athyra perked up and adjusted her posture. "Even if it were for the sake of the entire Gelfling race?" Tavra and Onica exchanged awkward glances. It seemed like a superficial, ridiculous statement. But the air of truth surrounding her aura left them eager to hear more. Some kind of resolve burned through her, and Tavra could sense it.
"A treasure hunt involving the very future of the Gelfling?" Tavra repeated to herself.
"Precisely," Athyra rose to her feet with a swoosh of wind, stepping behind her chair and grabbing a rolled map made from rough, worn fabric. She unrolled it and held it taut, her eyes scanning the picture. "Do you see that chain of islands...just there?" she motioned to a speckle of land which appeared more like a careless stain of ash. Tavra and Onica nodded. "Hidden somewhere in these islands is said to be vast treasure. Long forgotten by the Sifan samaudrens of old. Free for the taking," the map swiftly snapped shut between her arms, causing Onica to jump. "If you can find it, that is,"
"And what is the significance to finding it?" Onica asked. "Fame and glory?"
"It will be a gift," Athyra stated with swelling pride. "A gift for the Sifan people."
Tavra shook her head. "I'm not sure I understand. What will that accomplish for the Sifa?"
"Status," Athyra answered sternly. "I have been thinking on this for many trine," she placed the map behind her chair again and took a seat, this time remaining on the edge of her cushion. "If the Sifa were to attain a great amount of wealth and power, the Skeksis lords would have to begin to accept us as equals."
Onica held her hand up. "Hold on. Athyra, do you even hear what you're saying? That may sound good to you, but what you're speaking of is bordering on heresy,"
"It is you who are not hearing me," she fixed Onica with a cold stare. "Please, listen and try to understand," she inhaled another deep breath. "The Skeksis may be our lords, but we are the heart of Thra. Of course there is no reason to overthrow them, yet there is also no reason to live below them,"
"That is exactly what servants of the Crystal do," Tavra stated. "You may view it as a life of solitude, or of service. I prefer service to those who guard the Crystal. As do all of my guards. As do all who serve the farms, fields, trade, and even tithes."
Athyra scoffed. "If it is heresy to accept a life on your knees, then I shall die on my feet changing that."
Tavra thought for a moment, firmly planting a finger into her chin. "I see truth in your words--I do. I understand them. Yet I also follow Skeksis law, and I know it well,"
"But you forget, Tavra, I was once a dedicated Vapran servant just as yourself. You may be the All-Maudra's daughter, but I would place a bet that I know more about the details then you."
"How?"
"My own mother. She was a servant of law in Ha'rar for all her life until..." her voice trailed as a surge of haunting emotions hit her. "Until things changed."
"I see," Tavra said in a hush.
"So what does that mean?" Onica asked.
Athyra pounded her finger into her palm. "Not one Skeksis law speaks of acquiring your own wealth at free will. In fact it is expected. The Skeksis salivate over those with financial power, it's how they feed their own royal status."
"You speak of them as if they are monsters," Tavra remarked with slight disgust.
Athyra's eyes sharpened. "I only speak freely. You should try it sometime."
Onica cocked her head with exasperation. "This still doesn't make any sense to me. Even if you were to acquire that wealth, you would still have to pay a tithe! The richer you are, the more you are required to pay,"
"Exactly!" Athyra pointed her finger to the sky with a brightened smile. "And we will pay that tithe every single trine." Tavra and Onica were becoming extremely confused. Their eyes darted around the room, attempting to solve this growing enigma in their minds. "And with the most wealth, the Sifa will become the new sigil clan of the Skeksis," she proclaimed.
"Now I am truly lost," Onica threw her hands up.
"Through that enrichment," Athyra continued, "I will pass that status down slowly to each of the clans. Grow each community until we are all equal,"
"What do you mean you will? Are you simply in this for yourself?"
Athyra shrugged. "Every movement needs a leader. This is my role."
"But what about the Vapra?" Tavra wondered.
"What about them?" Athyra grumbled. "Greedy, crude, prejudiced, bigoted, and pretentious. What future do you see through the eyes of the rich and hollow. The Sifan culture--with our proud heritage and acceptance of all--that is who should lead us,"
"But the Skeksis don't care for those things, they follow status only,"
"True, but that also works in our favor," her lively hands helped to explain her statements. "If it is status they want, we'll bring them status. Not by rebelling, but by earning their respect, just as a Sifa would. We make them believe in us. And what a glorious achievement to present to Gelfling. Honor, pride, and dedication--all in the service of our lords. We will prove it can be done, and we will inspire others," she leaned herself forward and sharped her tone. "This could be a brand new beginning for the Gelfling. An age where we are not ruled over, but living with our lords side by side, to serve Thra."
"And what about wars between the clans?" Onica worried. "There are many ways this plan of yours could fail, and only one in which it does not."
Athyra finally relaxed again, and eased back into the fabric of her chair. "And that is exactly why I need a Far-Dreamer. And a strong warrior," she looked between them. "If one does not take risks, one cannot, and will not create the future."
Onica and Tavra studied each other's expressions. Both concern, and just as equally hope was ever present. These were radical ideas. Too radical. But Tavra knew well from her experiences as a soldier, that some dimension of truth existed. This was not a decision to start a rebellion, or insight violence between clans. Athyra was trying to help. Trying to find answers. She was frightened for the future of her people. Not just the Sifa, but all Gelfling.
"I see reason," Tavra admitted. "Yet I also find it difficult to follow this notion..."
Onica crossed her arms thoughtfully. "How should one respond to something such as this? I cannot find my words."
Athyra leaned closer to them, like a beast focusing on prey. "Then seek your words on the sea. Set sail with me."
NEW ACT OUT NEXT MONTH!