Guidance
*rubs hands together* I’m excited about this one.
Sympathy belongs to @selenelavellan
Comfort belongs to @palindromekomori
Melarue, Morwen (mention) belong to @justanartsysideblog
Rala and the interpretations of Mythal, Elgar’nan, and Sylaise belong to @feynites
Guidance is a soft spirit. She is a cloud tinged blue who delights in helping those around her. She came about from the Pleasure District. It’s an odd place for a spirit of her type to arise, but there were many people who needed help. And those people sought guidance from many different places in the district, from the people who serviced them, to counselors, to healers, to friends lounging on benches. They were all like pennies in a well, slowly building her up until she emerged from the Dreaming, bright and blue, soft and wanting to help.
She spends her days waiting around either by the healers or the pleasure workers who specialize in talking with their clients. She also frequents the Emporium when the mood suits her or when she feels like there may be an abundance of people who need assistance. She is often shooed away from the Emporium, however, she isn’t trained and those in charge like to insist upon the privacy of their clients no matter how much Guidance could potentially help. On the whole, Guidance likes her existence. She helps, she floats, she feels no pressure of corrupting.
Guidance goes through her life largely unnoticed by the higher ranking. It suits her just fine most of the time. She sometimes has a stray worry about being too unnoticed, but on the whole, she is content.
It is a normal day when she notices an unhappy soldier just off duty walking from the Pleasure District. Intrigued, Guidance follows. She follows him all the way to the Peacekeeper barracks, far from her home of the Pleasure District. But he seems to need help of some sort, so she pursues him. Only to end up hopeless lost inside the maze that is the barracks. Every room looks the same! Bland walls and bland doors and bland hallways make for a confusing layout. She is accustomed to brighter surroundings that are distinctive and using those distinctions to navigate.
All attempts to find the Peacekeeper are futile and she ends up lost in a myriad of hallways and rooms. Peace Keepers frown at her and urge her to leave, to which she replies she is! Or at least, she is trying.
The barracks are a veritable maze. She has never been so good with direction, and it is even worse in a place she has been to before. She spends hours wandering the halls and when she finally, finally, finds the exit, she also finds Lord Elgar’nan.
He is surrounded by an honor guard, all shining and golden. But he is a tall man and she sees the top of his head even over the helmets of the guards. Taken by surprise, Guidance does not move in time to go unnoticed.
“You there! Spirit! State your purpose!” One of the guards shouts, pointing a very pointy spear at her. It glows with a clear menacing and dangerous energy.
“I am Guidance, “ she says, “I was just leaving.”
“Not so fast, what were you doing here?”
“A Peacekeeper was distraught after their patrol in the Pleasure District, I followed in hopes to provide assistance.” Her energy swirls with nervousness as the guard frowns at her. Before he can speak once more, Lord Elgar’nan turns to look at her.
“What a lovely voice I hear! Nurem! Who is this?”
“A soft spirit, lost.”
“That was not the question!” The lord says, or shouts really. His voice is booming, filling the air with a raucous noise. Guidance wants to urge him to speak more softly to be kinder to the ears around him, but he is the Lord Elgar’nan! Her words and advice would insult, surely! She has been around long enough to know that the least.
“Guidance, my lord,” the soldier, Nurem, answers. Lord Elgar’nan turns his bright and nearly terrifying gaze to her. She wants to shrink back and hide, get lost within the barracks once more. Somehow she remains still, only vibrating slightly.
The altar is not far for spirits who offend the lords.
“Come here, spirit,” he commands and she is helpless to do otherwise. She floats to his outstretched hand. He waves his fingers through her air and his expression turns nearly contemplative.
“You are a soft spirit!” He announces. She is not sure how to respond to that, but thankfully she does not have to as the Lord directs his attention to Nurem.
“Nurem! Take her to my tower!”
Fear shoots through Guidance as Nurem bows and gestures for her to follow them.
“Yes, my lord.” Shocked, she follows without question. The air around her warbles and she wonders what will happen to her. Is she to be sacrificed? Has she offended the lord? She did not get that impression but the leaders are different from normal people. She cannot hope to comprehend the way he makes decisions or how he feels. She is unskilled at concealing herself, but the Lord is very adept.
Nurem takes her through the city and a series of Eluvians before arriving at what must be a gathering room in Elgar’nan’s tower. With the number of eluvians, she wonders if this is even in Arlathan. Perhaps not?
The room is nice, at least. Filled with plush furnishings and warm colors. The orange is not quite with the season but it fits the lord - warm but loud, full of an overwhelming personality.
At least Nurem appears at ease in the setting. They plop down onto a chair and gesture to her.
“The Lord will be several hours, might as well make yourself comfortable,” they say, tilting their head back and wiggling like elves tend to do when they mean to fall asleep.
“You are very sure of yourself,” Guidance says, floating towards them.
“Yes,” they reply, not bothering to open their eyes.
“Your work is fulfilling then.”
“I serve in Lord Elgar’nan’s honor guard. It is an immense honor and privilege to have his trust.” She supposes that is much of an answer she is going to get. There are eyes and ears everywhere in this place. Nurem would likely face poor consequences if they said anything other than to the effect that they are honored to be part of the honor guard.
Guidance looks around the room, trying to find something interesting other than overly stuffed furniture and pillows. There is a vase with crystalline flowers and a small bookshelf lined with what appear to be very boring books. They’re all on fighting techniques and things like honor and loyalty. There is not a novel in the bunch, or even a gardening guide. She moves to the door.
“I would not do that,” they say, still not moving.
“There is nothing in here!”
They sigh and grumble, “You spirits always need something to entertain you?”
“Relaxing is not exactly easy when you are trapped in an unfamiliar place not knowing what is going to happen to you,” she counters, floating back to the center of the room. Nurem sighs, but does not press her again.
For the next few hours, she vibrates in worried anticipation. About a dozen scenarios pass through her mind. She tries not to worry overmuch, reminding herself that she will know the way through if she just trusts herself. It is a difficult task to accomplish.
When the door finally opens, she shoots up into the air as Nurem rises to attention. They assume what must be an honorable and respectable pose as they greet the Lord Eglar’nan once more.
Guidance is not sure what the protocol is here. Spirits can’t really bow for the lack of a body. The highest ranking person she has interacted with prior to this is Morwen, she thinks. She had wandered into one of the more musically inclined brothels and helped guide the ensemble through a difficult bridge in the music.
Perhaps there is no real training for this, the leaders are on such high levels that she doubts even interacting with high ranking attendants would have adequately prepared her for the lord’s scrutiny. She floats lower to the ground that normal to keep herself shorter than the lord. some clear subservience cannot harm her...can it?
“Guidance! Come here, I wish to show you something!” Elgar’nan bellows. She does as he instructs and he takes her through the tower to a new room where some very beautiful and soft looking people rest upon more exceptionally plush furniture. Everyone’s hair is long and done in soft curls and waves. Their clothing is flowy, not unlike the workers in the Pleasure District, but far more modest. A man with long silvery hair plays a harp at the far end of the room, and Guidance wonders what she has wandered into.
Elgar’nan gestures to them all, who all smile and bow their head in respect.
“This is where I go to relax!” He shouts. A soft woman appears by his side, radiating softness and calm.
“Soft words, my lord, you are heard here, there is no need to shout,” she coos, running her hand up and down his arm. Shock ricochets through Guidance, but contrary to what she expects the lord to do, he simply...nods.
“Right you are, Sympathy,” he turns back to Guidance and smiles, “I have brought Guidance with me. She is to be interviewed.”
Sympathy bows her head then extends her hand out to Guidance, “Of course, my lord. Guidance, if you could follow me.”
Guidance does as the woman bids, following her away from Lord Elgar’nan who moves to take a seat by the man playing the harp. Another soft and tall elf moves to him and he leans into her! She pets him and a cloud of contentment rises from the lord.
What is this place?
Sympathy directs her into a smaller room, sliding the paper door closed, leaving just them in what feels like a heavily enchanted room.
“This room is warded for complete privacy, do not feel like you must answer in one way or another. I am looking for honesty.”
“Oh, alright.”
Sympathy smiles, “Do you know why the lord brought you here?”
“No. I was in the barracks, lost, and then he found me and had his guard, Nurem, bring me here. What is this place? Who is everyone?”
“I am Sympathy and we are the Lords personal comforters. We aid him in achieving calm and contentment, especially at the end of a long day. He responds very well to softness and non-sexual physical comfort, which we provide.”
She has heard rumors in the Pleasure District, of the workers of Elgar’nan who are a rank above all, separated but the same. Some of the workers hold some resentment of Elgar’nan’s “cuddlers”. They’re usually younger, less wise in how the leaders work. Fairness and respect are not required when one is the top of the food chain.
“Why am I here?” Guidance asks softly, though she already suspects. Sympathy sighs and a spell carefully crafted to create an air of sweetness and calm fills the room. It does little for Guidance, but she can appreciate the gesture.
“There have been occasions where the Lord Elgar’nan has found softness in his followers and spirits that he finds attractive and desirable. Some of the people in the other room came here just like you did.”
Guidance becomes very still, which is impressively concerning for a spirit. There were no spirits in the other room, just elves. Everyone had bodies. She understands that living in the empire means that her existence is at the whim of the leaders. They say jump, and she floats up. Or, in this case, she takes a body.
She had never expected to take a body. She had always enjoyed her existence like this, bodiless and floating. It is not that bodies disgust her, she has simply not seen the appeal. Spirits who do not desire a body vehemently do not do the best in their bodies, she knows. Commanding her to take a body is...it is a frightening thought, to be trapped in flesh and bone. To have her colors and form so set.
And what is worse is that she is expected to use this new body of hers to comfort another? How...is she expected to accomplish this?
“What happens if I refuse?”
Sympathy’s face grows solemn, “The Lord does not handle rejection...as well as we are required to.”
The altar is not far for a spirit like her, she thinks. And between being shattered to fuel this empire and taking an uncomfortable body...she will be alive at least.
“What must I do?”
**
It does not happen right away. Guidance spends the next decade with Sympathy and the others. She contributes mainly to the atmosphere they cultivate in alleviating Elgar’nan from the stresses of his life. It is not what she had feared, and by the time she is expected to take a body, it doesn’t feel as terrifying as it did before.
That being said, bodies are stranger than what Guidance expected. Her body is uncomfortable, and at first not at all what she would like. She is made short and small, compact. It makes her feel confined until they work it out to make her taller, and taller still, until the pressure subsides some. Her hair takes on a texture that fills more space, soft and buoyant in the air. The only blue color that remains with her are her eyes. Her body is made soft, which she finds no issue with. Her throat is made long her voice is crafted into a melody that will suit her new lord.
White vines are placed on her face, declaring her Elgar’nan’s. She stares in the full body mirror, wondering at herself. Is this beauty? Is this what Elgar’nan wants?
Is it what she wants?
Her wants feel irrelevant for if they were not, she would be formless and fine. Instead she is very physical, with hands and feet and hips that bow out much more than she thinks is fashionable. She feels heavy, but at least she no longer feels like she is going to explode because of the small body.
Her...hands trail over her body, marveling over the texture of her skin. Her finger tips are so sensitive and everything feels so vastly different than it did before. She could feel the essence of things, but touch was never quite possible. Now she can. She wants to touch everything, or mostly everything, feel how it is different. The touching seems to help too, grounding her into a new reality.
She is only given a few days before a messenger is sent for her and she is brought back to Eglar’nan’s tower. She is to be trained in the ways of comfort and physical reassurance for the Lord Elgar’nan. The training is interesting, to say the least. She is taught to sing, play the piano, and how to comfort the lord in a number of ways. She learns the lord enjoys having his hair gently brushed and handled, but he despises it when it is pulled, so care is exceptionally important. He likes gentle massages with oils lightly scented with lavender.
Over the three months of training, Guidance learns so much. Not just about the lord Elgar’nan, but also about her body and herself. She learns that while her lord likes lavender, she does not. She prefers more citrus based smells, and loves fruit. There is a week where Sympathy has to remind her that her body requires more than just fruit to sustain itself.
She learns that she likes pillows. Lots and lots of pillows, but not many blankets. And baths. Baths are wonderful. She thinks taking a body is nearly worth it just to soak it in a warm barrel of water and soap that forms such delightful bubbles.
And she enjoys singing. She tries to learn a new song as frequently as she can manage. She learned three in one week and while some are more complicated than others, she is building up quite the little selection. Her voice is the most beautiful part of her, she thinks. Not that she thinks her body is not beautiful, but her voice is exceptional. It is the constant she has felt since she was a spirit, as much as the rest of her has changed, her voice has remained consistent.
She likes birds. She likes the sounds they make and that she can finally try and sing with them. She also likes cats, their fur is so soft and their purring is very soothing. In fact, she likes most animals and finds coats and things made from them distasteful and upsetting. She much rather layer thinner fabrics to be warm than to use the skin of an animal.
Her debut with the lord Elgar’nan is interesting. At first he does not recognize her, but then she smiles and greets him and he is quick to pull her to him. He inspects her, trails hands up and down her body, buries his face into her neck and curly hair. She thinks he means to pull her down to the floor for some physical comforting, but he pulls back, hands on her arms, a great grin upon his face.
“I was right!” He exclaims then laughs. The room turns more lively than normal as there is an impromptu celebration. It is a great deal of fuss that Guidance is unsure what to do with, but Sympathy is smiling and laughing so it must be a good thing.
The rest of the year is spent taking on a new normal. There are many days where she simply lounges with the rest of her colleagues, though the days after those are...not great. Elgar’nan has a temper and she is learning that if he does not regularly diffuse after difficult days, it simply builds up and he is likely to bring his anger and frustrations to even those meant to give him comfort. Sympathy is careful to direct him to more experienced people, however, even to herself when he is in a particularly foul mood. Guidance is immensely grateful, she does not think she would like it very much to be responsible for diffusing Elgar’nan from such a disagreeable state.
Most days are not so troublesome, though. She mostly sings and hums while stroking his hair while another rubs his feet. It is an easy existence, but a tenuous one. There is a weight to tending to the care of a leader, a knowledge that the slightest infraction could land her demoted into despair, poverty, or death. She is expected to serve, no matter if that means singing lullabies to Elgar’nan, or on the altar, her body and soul broken to fuel another pretty project.
She lives on a floor specifically designed for them all. She has four rooms - a bedroom, a sitting room, a library, and a private bath - plus a beautiful balcony large enough for a chaise and a small table with chairs. As a welcome gift, she is given a tall bookcase and it is quickly filled with novels. She only ever mentioned once liking fantastical novels and now her room is filled with them. Her work may not be the best and her position precarious, but she enjoys the people she works with a great deal.
Exploring the city with a body is different too. People look at her, judge her body and her as well. Her nature is not so clear now, and it has been difficult to sometimes interact with other people. She has much to learn about interacting with people now that she has her body. There is whole host of ways to communicate with her body, smiling and gesturing and inclining her head at just the right angle. Every movement seems so innate to everyone around her. She has so much catching up to do.
Her colleagues are very helpful. They all take turns in assisting her and by year’s end, she feels like she can almost make it through an entire market day without feeling too out of place. She can traverse the markets and go into stores to procure things with credit she receives from her work. At first, she buys random things that delight her. A painting of two pastel colored doves, scarves in various colors that she uses to pull her hair back, socks stitched with adorable animals on them, another painting but this time of a great serpent wrapped around a tree. And books! There are so many books and she wants to read them.
Spending her money in this way is not smart, though. There are things she needs, like practical shoes because the strappy sandals she is expected to wear, if she is expected to wear any shoes, at work are not sufficient for all aspects of life. She needs clothes that suit her work and her time away from work. There are perfumes and toiletries and so many things that her body needs to function properly.
By the end of the year, Guidance thinks she’s gotten the hang of having a body. For the most part. There are still some quirks to be worked out, but overall, she feels like she has adjusted well.
At the end of the year, there is a large festival. It’s an anniversary celebration for when her lord vanquished a powerful foe...at least that’s what Guidance thinks. She may have gotten distracted while one of his attendants was explaining everything. The point is that it’s a big festival, she is to be dressed in an opulent yellow gown that highlights her curves and softness. Her hair is treated with a shampoo that makes her hair glitter under light, making it look like she is wearing a halo of stars even without much other head jewelry.
She is supposed to look like a flame. Combined with her colleagues and the formal attendants, they are supposed to look like a cohesive fire. Sympathy and her and the others are expected to lounge behind a curtain that obscures their defining features and makes them look more like the flames they are to represent. The screen also serves as a way to keep them from everyone else, in a way. There are plenty of people who would like to touch or be untoward one of them. Guidance has only recently come to like her body, despite Elgar’nan’s presumptions upon it, she does not need more people prevailing their desires upon her.
Food and drinks are delivered to them by way of specified trusted servants. At least they are allowed to move. Guidance has heard of rumors where the lady Sylaise has hired performers who were to remain still for hours to achieve a certain look. A girl fainted during one of the performances once, kept her knees locked and all the blood pooled away from her head. She was demoted into obscurity and later sacrificed to further serve her lady.
The arrangement is comfortable. Sympathy and Comfort lounge together against several pillows, speaking in low voices as they feed each other. Quietude leans against Guidance, not minding her soft humming as she reads the novel she sneaked into the festival in her long sleeves. Quietude is a sensitive soul, soft like all of them, but he seems to be particularly sensitive. Prone to fainting and soft sobbing. Guidance wishes he had a better position than serving the bombastic lord so intimately. He is a wonderful poet, though, and his words alone cast a spell of sweet calm. He belongs with the rest of them...but the longer Guidance is here, the more she feels like none of them belong with Elgar’nan.
It is a horrible, treasonous thought. She banishes it from her brain as soon as it appears. Whenever it appears.
The first night of the celebration is going well, people beyond the screen are laughing and dancing. Enjoying themselves in the firelit evening. Behind the screen, Guidance and her fellows are enjoying the night off. Elgar’nan is too busy with being a Leader to bother with any of them. Instead just one of his attendants, a fussy woman by the name of Ithari, is watching over them.
Charisma is currently working on her. Smiling and being, well, charismatic. No one is expecting anyone to come back here until the Lady Sylaise walks by and makes eye contact with Guidance.
The Lady stops. A singular line forms between her brows before she turns around and strides out to the floor. A great sense of dread fills Guidance and her heart begins to beat quicker in her chest.
She should have ducked her head! She should have said “my lady”, or any number of things instead of just sit there, dumbstruck.
Quietude wraps a tentative hand around her arm, “It is likely nothing,” he whispers. But he does not sound convinced.
“I should go see our lord,” Sympathy says, only to have Comfort take her hand.
“We are not allowed leave,” she says. Sympathy frowns and sits back down, slightly deflated, more worried.
Beyond the screen, Guidance sees him. Her lord speaking with none other than the Lady Sylaise. She cannot hear them, the screen is enchanted so that no noise can pass between it and the main festival area. But she can tell that he is beginning to lose his temper. She can see the tension in his face, the air around him beginning to fill with chaotic anger. She should know, they’ve all been trained to notice it far sooner than anyone else.
Sympathy moves herself from Comfort to Guidance, positioning herself between her and the opening from where Sylaise had come. Guidance appreciates the gesture, but it will not sufficiently shield her from any leader who is angry with her, not truly. And she would hate for Sympathy to suffer any consequences because of her.
It is like watching the worst gut wrenching play imaginable. Only this time the person who could die is her. And she is not being dramatic.
In a twist of horrifying proportions, the lady Mythal joins Elgar’nan and Sylaise. She rests a hand on her husband and nods with Sylaise. Ever the diplomat, but still, adding leaders to a conflict never turns out well for other people, just for the leaders.
Guidance lets out a sniffle and closes her book, shifting it back into her sleeve. She reaches up and fiddles with a stray curl by her ear, coiling it around her finger. She bites her lip and tries to not think about death. This life is still so new to her, some mistakes are expected, right?
“I have seen worse offenses that have blown over without much recourse,” Sympathy says. Quietude nods in agreement and soon they have all gathered around her, telling her reassuring stories of greater offenses that were met with leniency.
Sylaise gestures towards the screen and Mythal looks up.
After another minute of heated debate, Elgar’nan walks off and Mythal follows. Sylaise, however, remains before casting one last glance towards the screen. When she at last turns and leaves, Guidance lets out a long breath of relief. She doesn’t think the storm has passed, but the immediate danger seems to have abated.
The festival continues for the rest week as planned. Elgar’nan stops by only a few times, and when he does, it is with Sympathy exclusively. One his way out from the last time, he visits with Guidance for only a moment. His eyes are ablaze with a furious light but his touch is gentle as he caresses her cheek.
“My soft Guidance,” he says before leaving to tend to his duties. It does not help ease her sense of foreboding. What happened? What is going to happen? The dark is not her favorite place to be.
Only days after the festival, Guidance is summoned to Elgar’nan’s side. She is brought to a great room where her lord, his daughter, and his wife all sit at a table. She stands before them all, in an unassuming gown spun from glowing silk worms. Their silk produces an iridescent fabric that is quite fashionable, but still, she worries under the gazes of the two most lovely women in the empire. She bows her head and curses her tall, soft, full body. It is comfortable to her but it is quite in opposition to Sylaise’s fashions.
“Has she be informed as to why she is here, father?” Sylaise asks.
“No,” Elgar’nan growls. Guidance tenses as she goes against her training to go to him to soothe his tension. This is not the time or place.
“The poor thing must be terrified, come here, child,” Mythal says, beckoning Guidance to her. Carefully, she obeys. She kneels before Mythal, averting her gaze in subordination.
“She is beautiful, if customized to the role you have placed her in, Vhenan.”
“You are too kind, my lady,” Guidance murmurs.
“The fact remains that you stole her from the Pleasure District - which is under my jurisdiction,” Sylaise says and it suddenly makes sense. Sylaise is not mad at Guidance, but at Elgar’nan. When Guidance was a spirit, she had brushed by Sylaise for just a moment at a festival. Neither of them had paid the other much attention. Guidance was preoccupied with someone who need assistance finding their way home and Sylaise was busy being herself at a festival. But she must have recognized Guidance enough at the festival to realize that Elgar’nan had taken Guidance from the Pleasure District.
Guidance was originally supposed to be Sylaise’s. She had always assumed that Elgar’nan had asked for her in some fashion but apparently not, and now she is to pay for it?
“You would have sacrificed her!”
“It does not matter, she was mine to sacrifice or embody - you took that,” Sylaise responds, her voice cool and calm. But just as terrifying.
Guidance swallows and tries not to shake.
“THIS INSOLENCE!” Elgar’nan shouts, “I HAVE OFFERED YOU PROPER RECOMPENSE FOR HER!”
“Hardly,” Sylaise responds, her tone just cool and collected as if Elgar’nan’s shouting has not disturbed her at all. Perhaps it hasn’t.
“This is the third spirit you have poached from me, father. Do not think I have not forgotten Melody and Rapture. I am owed.” Melody? Guidance knows Melody, they...they were taken like her? Perhaps that is why they never did like being around Guidance all that much.
“SHE IS THE LAST!” Elgar’nan booms. Guidance tries to not flinch.
“That is what was said about Rapture, before they shattered when you put them into a body - a perfectly fine spirit gone to waste.” Sylaise sounds disappointed but it feels fake, like she only cares to use Rapture’s poor name to her advantage now.
“Vhenan, we have formal proceedings for a reason. Guidance rightfully belongs to Sylaise since she was never formally transferred.”
“SHE HAS BEEN TRAINED! I HAVE SPENT RESOURCES INTO MOLDING HER INTO WHAT SHE IS MEANT TO BE! SHE CANNOT BE SIMPLY TAKEN AWAY!”
“Like how you took her from me?”
“YOU INSOLENT CHILD!”
“At least I know how to follow procedure!”
“ENOUGH! Both of you!” Mythal shouts. It holds greater weight than Elgar’nan’s shouts and both Sylaise and Elgar’nan fall silent as she rises from her seat.
“Elgar’nan, Guidance belongs to Sylaise by rights. She will be transferred immediately. Sylaise, Elgar’nan is still losing a trained comforter, he will have his choice of spirits that are currently in the district. Assemble them so that he may choose one. After he has chosen, this mess will be over.”
“I HAVE ONE CONDITION!” Elgar’nan booms, “GUIDANCE IS NOT TO BE SACRIFICED! TOO MUCH HAS BEEN INVESTED IN HER FOR IT TO BE WASTED!”
“That is not his call to make!”
“Watch your tone, daughter,” Mythal snaps, “I happen to agree with him. Guidance would better serve the city as a worker in the Pleasure District with her training than as a sacrifice.”
Guidance thinks she is going to pass out from the stress. That or throw up. Another argument strikes up but it is all along the same lines. By the end of it, it is decided that the transfer is happening first thing tomorrow and that she will be moved into the Pleasure District as soon as an apartment is prepared in a proper location. Melarue is immediately summoned and Guidance is taken back to her rooms so she can prepare herself in private.
She does so by sobbing and drinking an entire bottle of sunwine Charisma gifted her a month ago. Never has she experienced so much stress and terror in one sitting. Having Mythal and Sylaise and Elgar’nan all debating on what to do with her, talking as if she wasn’t there, as if she isn’t a person, she - it’s wrong. It is so wrong and there’s not really anything she can do but weather the storm.
It’s the only thing any of them can do.
Around midnight, there is a knock at her door. She stumbles to it, opens it, to find Sympathy and Quietude and Comfort and several others there.
“We heard, we came to help,” Sympathy says and it is enough to send Guidance back into a crying fit. She is held and soothed out of love and not obligation. After, they all drink and pack and wait for morning where everything will change. She will miss them all so dearly. It is likely she will not be able to see them much once she is transferred. She is going back to Arlathan to the Pleasure District where a new life will begin. Another new life.
So much change, it’s making her nauseous. She had just gotten used to her body, and now she will need to get used to being embodied in a new place.
Ithari arrives at dawn to find Guidance with all her friends, her things packed into boxes and bags. Her hair is braided away from her face, courtesy of Charisma, and she is dressed in another simple, but beautifully made gown. She’ll likely need to change into something keeping more with Sylaise’s fashions after the transfer, but she might as well be comfortable going into it.
Several servants come to help her with her things - it’s really not that much and everything’s been enchanted to be easy to cary. It’s mostly books, trinkets, a few paintings, and clothes.
She is taken to a new location through a small network of Eluvians. She feels like she is still in the Crossroads, but there is a large structure that declares itself halfway between Elgar’nan and Sylaise’s territories. She is taken into the building and the ceremony is performed in a slow measured steps and silence. Elgar’nan is there, glowering while the lines on her face are realigned to Sylaise’s design.
Afterwards, Guidance is stripped and dressed in a gown of shimmering lime green. The greens are in fashion now, it seems, a radical shift from the fiery festival colors. But if Arlathan is green, then she must be as well.
The rest of the trip is admittedly boring and solemn. Her things are loaded onto an enchanted cart and she is taken to an apartment in the Pleasure District. It sits on the third floor of a four story apartment building. There is a small balcony that looks over the courtyard that has suspended plants from each balcony. It’s pretty, and she thinks she can add to the plants with some of her own. The apartment itself is pretty. Smaller than what she is used to, but pretty. There are no doors inside the apartment, just large archways, except for the room with the chamber pot and large wash basin.
There is a small foyer with a small table for curios and a coat rack, but nothing else. The rest of the apartment is just as sparse - the living room, the main room, has a single couch and a small bookcase. The bedroom has a bed, smaller than what she is accustomed to, a dresser and a wardrobe. There is no dedicated closet which is frustrating because there is space for it. There are two balconies, at least. The living room opens up to the main balcony, while there is a smaller balcony off the bedroom.
It is not perfect, but it will do. She is honestly happy to just be alive at this point.
Guidance spends the rest of the day unpacking. She takes care to hang her paintings and place her curios. There are not nearly enough bookcases for all of her books, so she stacks them and counts. She thinks she will need at least three more bookcases. She also plans to buy more chairs and tables and lots of planters. She has been wanting to try gardening.
All of that will have to be planned out with the credit she will receive from her new posting, however. Tomorrow...tomorrow she reports for her new work. All she has are some memories of how the district is laid out and a map one of the people who guided her here gave her.
For dinner, she snacks on the dried fruits and nuts and wine her friends had given her when she was still a comforter. She sits on the floor of her new apartment, staring up at a painting of a long-eared rabbit.
Maybe this is where she is supposed to be after all. It’s where she began, after all. Maybe working for Elgar’nan was just a detour, a little stop on the great journey that is her life. Maybe this will go better than she expects and it will turn out just fine.
Guidance has to hope, without it...there is nothing.
When the wine bottle turns up empty and she runs out of food, she staggers to her feet and moves to her bed. That is too small for her sheets and has lumpy pillows. Note to self, get better pillows. In fact, get a whole new bed and mattress because this one sucks.
But the alcohol does its job and she passes out despite the lumpy mattress and unsupportive pillows.
A ward goes off just before dawn, alerting her to someone just outside her door. She shoots up in bed and almost falls back down due to the dizziness and disorientation. Where is she?
Oh. Right. The Pleasure District.
The ward goes off again.
Right, she needs to answer that. She stumbles to her feet and walks quickly to the door to find a cheerful spirit with long spindly tendrils waiting for her.
“Good morning, Guidance! I am here to take you to your first day! Do you need to get dressed? I can help!”
Guidance blinks then nods. Right, it makes sense they would send a spirit to fetch her on her first day. The transfer happened so quickly she hasn’t had time to explore the district again, find out where she’s supposed to go.
“Yes, just give me...fifteen minutes and I will be ready.” She invites the spirit inside while she goes and changes into a pale green wrap dress. She undoes her braids and fluffs out her hair, spritzing it with a solution to keep it soft. Elgar’nan always likes that. It should be like a cloud, Guidance, a place where he can rest his burdens.
She is unsure of the effect she should have, so she goes with what she knows. This is the look that has made her desirable and she should be desirable...right? Still, she drapes a cloak around her shoulders and brings the hood up. She is used to having to cover herself while away from the quarters of the comforters.
Once she is finished, she follows the spirit out through the city. It has been just over a decade since she has been here, not long really. But to see it and experience it with a body is so different! She can smell things now! Smell all the things that she never could before. The flowers, the food, the terrible stench coming from the alley over there. She feels the cobbled streets underneath the soles of her shoes. Everything is so much more visceral in sensation.
It is not unlike exploring Elgar’nan’s city. But this is Arlathan. The heart and soul of the empire. The place which sets the beats for everywhere else.
It is bittersweet to be back.
She stops by a foodhall, grabbing a breakfast sandwich that she eats on her way to what she suspects in the central brothel, the one where Melarue works. Even she has heard of Melarue, who hasn’t? They who run the district, who are responsible for keeping everything moving smoothly. Both the blessing and thorn in the side of Sylaise and even Mythal.
The main brothel is a beautiful building, tall and classic. There are windows she cannot see into, dark glass complimented by beautiful metal railings and details. The inside is just as beautiful, soft but immensely elegant. Everything is pristine and gorgeous and very grand, almost too grand. She feels slightly out of place in at all. She is not the beauty who has poetry written about her, or the beauty who inspires songs and artwork. She is soft, and she is comforting, but she doesn’t know what much else she is for this line of work.
Maybe she will just end up on the altar after all. No, no, she just...needs to find her footing. She’ll be fine. The Pleasure District has lots of different positions and she has skills that others don’t.
The spirit, Service, takes her through the brothel and out to a large garden that is filled with a riot of different flora. There is a gazebo in the center of it all where the most beautiful person she has ever laid eyes on sits, reading in the early morning light. They are not beautiful in the way the leaders are, all terrifying and perfect, but they are beautiful in a way that makes her breath catch. It is not possible, she thinks, for someone to be so truly beautiful. Dark hair falls down their back, tucked behind their ears in a casual but elegant fashion. They are also dressed in green, but of the darker shades. Their dress is high necked but she can tell from the cut that it is backless. When they turn their silvery gaze to her she almost trips over her feet.
It must be a common reaction, she thinks. They are that breathtaking.
“Thank you, Service, you may take your leave,” they say, waving the spirit away before gesturing for Guidance.
“Please, take a seat, I understand the last few days must have been trying to say the least.”
She takes the seat and shrugs, “It is not more than I can handle.”
They raise an eyebrow at her, “Truly? That bodes well, the Pleasure District can be a difficult and trying place to work. It is not suitable for most. But then again, you were trained to soothe one of the hottest tempers in the empire. You are not most.”
Guidance blushes and nods, “I suppose I am not.” She touches her cheeks, still slightly concerned every time she feels them heat like this.
Melarue notices it, of course, “How long have you had your body?”
“A little over a year. I finished formal training nine months ago, and I mostly sang and recited poetry. Lord Elgar’nan would every now and then rest upon me, but he generally preferred the more senior level comforters.” She fiddles with her hands under the table.
They take out a pen and begin writing on a notepad on the table, “You are trained to sing...do you play any other musical instruments?”
“I was being trained to play the piano, my voice always sounded better than anything my fingers could produce. I...I do not think I would be a very good person for, um, sex. I haven’t, that is, my body is new and there hasn’t been a chance to, and Elgar’nan kept us very separate. I mean, Charisma offered but it didn’t feel right so it didn’t get farther than kissing and -
“Guidance,” they say softly, “I will not assign you sex work. Your body is entirely too new for it. Perhaps, down the line, it may come to that. Right now, however, I will assign you to music. Pleasure can be derived from many different places and luckily, there is an opening for a vocalist in one of the brothels. Your direct supervisor will be Morwen and you will report to him in a week. You have been through enough in the last few days. I am disinclined to demand work from you while you are potentially distressed.”
Kass blinks as relief surges through her, “But the Lady Sylaise said she wanted me to start -
“Sylaise wanted a victory over her father, and she got it. You are here now, wearing her markings. Officially, you are in training. Service will give you tours of the district, you will be briefed on your responsibilities, and a suitable wardrobe will be procured for you. Your transfer may have happened quickly, but that does not mean it speeds up the rest of the process.”
“Oh.” It’s all she can say, really. She wasn’t expecting a period of reprieve, but what they say makes sense. Other things need to happen for her to start work. “Thank you.” She tells them anyways because she is thankful.
Their smile is polite, “You’re welcome. There is one more thing. Your name, the gossip mill being what it is, most people have heard of you. Keeping your name as Guidance increases the risk of people seeking you out for the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?”
They take a deep breath, “There are those who would take advantage if only to be with Guidance, the former comforter of Elgar’nan’s who has been shipped off to the Pleasure District.”
“That...that’s terrible!”
“I do not say this to trouble you, but to help you. It would be to your benefit to take on a new name.”
A new name? She...has not considered taking a new name before. But she sees their point and it is logical to do so. Guidance was what she was too, not entirely descriptive of what she is now.
“Take the week to consider it. I will make sure your addition to the roster is discreet until the change.”
She nods and tries to piece it all together, “Why...why are you being so kind to me? You barely know me.”
They pause and their expression turns soft, “I look after my people.” Elgar’nan looked after his people too, he kept them sequestered away and primped to his liking. Melarue is allowing to explore, to change, to...do things she enjoys without them having any say in it. She wants to thank them over and over again, but she thinks that may be a bit much.
Instead, their meeting ends and Service goes back to giving her a tour of the district. They only get through a few of the brothels of the day before Service is called to other duties. Guidance decides to wander some of the district herself. She passes the Emporium and waves at Rala, whom she recognizes from her time as a spirit. The busy woman waves back but Guidance doubts she’s really paying attention.
She finds a dining hall by dinner, thank goodness. She eats her fill then wanders back to her apartment. A frown pulls her lips down once she sees once more how sparse the place is. She has got to figure out a way to improve things sooner rather than later.
The week moves by in a calm fashion. She meets with Morwen and demonstrates her singing ability. He tells her he’s impressed and moves to put her at the top of singing lists on certain days. It is very kind of him.
It is a calm enough week that Guidance manages to read an entire book. Her mind lingers on one of the names in the story. She touches the page just under the name and considers. It is not a well known novel. The author has long been deceased, he died fighting for Elgar’nan ages ago. It is only by chance she found this worn copy of this story. She hasn’t seen any other copies, which is a shame because it is a lovely story. It’s about a warrior woman who leaves all she knows for a better life and finds it when she finally casts aside her weapons and settles down to farm with the love of her life. It is a sweet, calm story that feels very inspiring.
She holds the name in her mind for awhile, mulls it over. It’s not like anyone would really know she chose a name from a story. Where else would she get a name, anyways? She likes the name and she wants...she wants to be the woman in the story. She wants to find love and be happy on her little farm with her vegetables instead of having to fight day in and day out.
When she returns to Melarue at the end of the week, it is in higher spirits. She feels rested despite the crap bed and she is beginning to feel less...squashed than she has. They tick everything off on a checklist, and show her to a rack of her new clothes. She reports on the morrow to Morwen for her official orientation and first day.
All the formal business is completed except for one final piece.
“Have you chosen a name?” They ask.
She nods and takes a deep breath, “Yes. Kassaran.”
