#ooo plot

[sapphirethefluffymewtwo]

Sapphire: 🗡️

...I have no regret for what I did. That man should not have been born at all...

[ala-mhinyan]

XXVII :: Palaver

{{ TW: Misgendering }} {{ Feat Vague Mentions: Ayanga and Dunrai }} {{ All < > is language spoken in Coeurl SunSpeak. }}

The Ankobia has returned; ushering forth with him the damning of the Beast Master--C’ajnee is to be tried and sentenced after too many moons in holding. The knowledge of this is in passing--kept between only those who truly need to know of it; Ankobia, Chieftess, Council and Guard. C’ohna is told in courtesy; a good son never leaves his mother to worry and fret over things that will be handled soon. She eases at the news and, for the first time since Arha disappeared, has found some semblance of peace within her breast.

The guard speak among themselves, aware distantly of the way and time when all in the tribe are meant to remain within their caves--guard posted before each door to keep the chill of soon to be havoc away from the children. They’ve seen, heard, been through enough. There is no cause great enough on this star to warrant scarring them further.

So how, pray tell, did this information fall into the hands of C’sah; The Dead Witch?

Such is the fate of a woman tied intimately close with the tribe of her birth, having spun threads that tangle with every ankle that moves across the sands of home. A guard here or there may find themselves deeply entangled with the business of the Syndicate. And all of fair the Syndicate in favor for the blood on their blade? C’sah is the Mistress of the Siren’s call. The heartbeat above Nameless.

Delicate fingertips run graceful sweeps over the fur of the slumbering Coeurl at her side, fierce golden eyes that burn like hot coals running over the form of the man that stands before her. Nameless dips forward in a bow. C’sah gives it a dismissive wave of a hand.

<”Come, tell me you have learned, Nameless.”>

Nameless flashes a small smile, lifts a hand and plucks the mask from his face to hook easily onto his belt. The Keeper glances around the witch’s hovel; beholden to the potions, greenery and shrouds that keep it abash of sunlight--fit only for a NightWalker. He sits when the woman issues a sharp glare in his direction, smoothing out his robes and then crossing his palms over his lap.

<”C’tolemy has--”>

<”C’aziza,”> She corrects, without looking up from the scroll in her lap.

<”C’aziza has authorized the sentencing of C’ajnee in just a few sun’s time. If you want to save your successor, now would be the time to act.”>

The older woman drags her hardened gaze from the scroll over to the perfect smile Nameless shows, gleaming the cold sweat along his throat and feeling cruel satisfaction about it. Her lips curl into a wicked smile and the man visibly flinches away from it.

<”Come now, Nameless,” She croons, further swaying the man into more discomfort. <”You know I always come fit to help my successor, yes? I did not teach C’ajnee all he knows so that Aziza could one day overtake him, did I?”>

<”That you did not, Mistress.”>

C’sah leans back against the slumber Coeurl, folding her arms beneath her chest.

<”It seems I have no other options than to make my presence known once more to my daughter. The shock will send her back into obeying and further from free thought--You will use the distraction to free C’ajnee from his cell and ferry him to safety. We need to nurse him before he can confront Aziza properly. I will not have my work undone.”>

Nameless nods, ears flicking.

<”What of the--”>

<”The dark scales? Pay them no mind. They have not returned to the village since Holi--and good for it. If a measurable distance is kept then there will be no need to handle them. Should I be forced to intervene, I will. It is as simple as that.”>

Nameless grimaces at the idea but gives a sharp bow of his head, rising without another word. Before he has a chance to turn completely, he notices the movement of C’sah’s hand in his direction.

<”Watch closely, Nameless. It will take but a sentence to undo all the progress you believe Aziza has made. I did not train her like a beast all of these years for nothing.”>

The man creens a small smile, the glow of pale blue eyes vanishing within the cloak of darkness and the shift of a mask.

<”Under your order, Mistress.”>

Palaver concluded, Nameless makes a hasty retreat.

C’sah waits a fairly long time after Nameless makes his exit to turn her gaze away from the space he previously occupied, gleaming out over her smallest hovel with half-lidded eyes. The petting of her slumbering companion has yet to wane, the rhythmic strokes doing much to soothe the wild thing’s wrath. Her thoughts roll to the last time she saw her precious, ugly daughter’s face--how she remembers the tears and trembling and the fear in her eyes. How she remembers. That cruel smile returns and she lets her lids drift closed, relaxing into the warmth of fur and the barely hinged wild of a maneater.

How wonderful it is to be a mother.