Private Tales Dawn's Ignition

[Settra]

"Again."

Master Ismael had struck him countless times already. Every slight error was met with the sharp sting and dull ache that came at the end of a wooden staff. Each mark was meant to serve as a reminder of what would've happened had the fight been real...there would be no warnings, no chances for these little mistakes in a life-or-death situation. Adherents of the Shifra Monastery were raised from youth as killers, and all were taught the cost of making a mistake. Those that did not learn were treated more harshly.

The boy had crumpled before his master, not even ten years old, panting, bruised, barely conscious. Despite his best efforts, he could not shake his distractions as his master had taught him. He still looked out his window at night, saw the world outside of the monastery, and wished to he could choose for himself. He tried so hard to empty his mind as Master Ismael had instructed, but he couldn't. Now he was paying for it through pain.

"Stand up. Even the dullest blade can be honed with time, but you must purge these useless emotions and desires. Only once you are hollow can you truly serve as the gods have intended. Now, stand up..." Ismael urged the boy onwards, though his tone was unfeeling, unrushed. Cold. There was no fire that stirred in his heart from being pushed on by his master, only a droning sense of duty. Blood seeped from his mouth as he dragged himself upwards, his eyes slowly rolling to meet Master Ismael's gaze.

"And start again."

---

Settra jerked awake, drenched in a cold sweat. Reality took a moment to return to his sleep addled mind, but as his vision focused he found himself still in his room in the Imperial palace. Medja had made sure he had his own place to stay set aside after she'd moved her base of operations to the capital, but it was still largely sparse aside from the furniture it had come with. The assassin wiped his brow and pulled himself up in bed, then leaned against the headboard and rubbed his face. These nightmares had always plagued him, but lately it seemed like they'd been getting worse.

He didn't understand. Mistress Medja had acquired him from the Monastery and given him a name, a purpose, and freedom of choice, but...he largely had never known what to do with any of them. Despite his best efforts, his former master's work on deadening him to his emotions had been quite difficult to reverse in any large capacity. That was until...well, until he met a certain Salitran princess. Settra felt a rushing sensation move through his head as memories of their recent experiences together flooded back to him. There was a fond warmth that came with those thoughts, one that pulled him out of the panic that his dream had put him in.

Most recently, Medja had offered him a new set of assignments, most of which were potential targets to eliminate. However, there was one task among them that made Settra light up, one that he had to hide his enthusiasm in taking: serving as a personal guard and aid to Nymeasha Soleiman. He knew, of course, that this couldn't have been coincidence; somehow Medja always seemed to have a way of finding these sorts of things out. Nonetheless, as he sat in bed letting his heartrate return to normal, he was more than happy to take to the task. He'd grown comfortable with the routine hitjobs Medja assigned him to, but now...now things were about to change, it semed.

 

[Nym]

Nym hadn't been able to sleep well since her return from Salitra. Whether it was to do with the healing process, the new surroundings, the weight of thought on her mind or the lack of comforting embrace she'd gotten quickly used to, she didn't know, but she had gotten to know the golden tiles of her ceiling very well these past few nights.

She had given up before the sun had breached the horizon and dressed in loose white pants and vest and made her way to the kitchens to have a tray of food sent to Settra's room with a folded note in her handwriting.

'Good morning.

Join me in the gardens for a walk?
Nym.

P.S. Enjoy breakfast.'

Nym enjoyed her own tray of fruits and breads in the gardens as she watched the indigo sky brighten and the orange sun rise up and cast the desert in hues of copper and gold. She eyed the guards that wandered on their patrols and considered the shift in her position, that she would now no longer act as defence for her city and instead would have those who would guard her. It would take some getting used to, of that she was certain.

She sat cross legged on a white marble bench, her attention drifting between the views over the city and the large koi carps in the pond with which she shared her breakfast as she waited somewhat anxiously for Settra, hoping that he would join her here, and more so that he would join her in Salitra.

 

[Settra]

The tray arrived in short order with a soft knock at the assassin's door. A mess of hair tussled down over his face as he rose to answer the knock and he wrapped a sheet around his waist for modesty's sake. The servant quietly offered up the food and note before bowing and dismissing herself. Settra took the tray back in and set it down on an end table before drawing the curtains from a window to let the sunrise and breeze in. Annuakat awaited below, and while it was no Ragash, its azure architecture in the vibrant morning light was a unique sight to behold.

Settra began to pull his hair back into the loose ponytail he tended to keep it in, then turned his attention to the tray. The idea of eating much of anything wasn't particularly appetizing at the moment, but the note caught his attention. He unfolded it, looked it over, and couldn't help but feel a tired ghost of a smile creep its way across his face. An early walk in the gardens with Nym sounded like a wonderful way to start the day.

He pulled on a pair of black harem trousers and a tight, sleeveless shirt--training garb, essentially, but the closest thing he had to casual garb. Slipping on some sandals and grabbing an armful of fruit and bread, Settra left his room to make his way to the gardens.

---

Nym didn't have to wait very long. If she called, Settra would answer, even if this morning it was in a somewhat lazy fashion. He looked visibly tired as he came up behind the princess, food still in hand, and leaned down to softly and silently kiss her forehead as he arrived.

"Good morning." He greeted her, the rasp of sleep not having fully left him yet. Then he took a seat beside her on the bench, leaned on his knees, and shoved a chunk of bread into his mouth.

 

[Nym]

Nym should have known that she wouldn't be kept waiting. Her lips curled as she felt his presence and she twisted to follow his approach, looking up at him and closing her eyes as she graciously accepted the tender greeting. It was the first she'd seen him since speaking with Medja, and he seemed just as tired as she was.

"Good morning..I hope I didn't interrupt your sleep." she said softly, watching him for a moment before letting her gaze drift back out across the gardens. "Beautiful, isn't it?.." she asked, slipping a segment of orange passed her lips and savouring the burst of citrus.

She drew in a deep breath, the air a mix of salt and flora before she cleared her throat to speak. "I hope you're healing well?.." she asked. "And I'm unsure if Medja has had a chance to speak with you yet, or if you know that I'm leaving Annuakat.." she dropped her gaze and laced her fingers together in her lap, wringing them together.

 

[Settra]

"Good morning..I hope I didn't interrupt your sleep."

"Mmm...not at all. I'm usually up fairly early to train," Settra croaked groggily. Usually he wasn't quite this lethargic in the mornings, but with the advent of these bad dreams he was finding these rough mornings more often lately. He, of course, neglected to mention as much. Nym likely had enough on her plate as it was, there was no need to worry her with minutia.

The Onyx Hand didn't cast his gaze over the gardens or the sky before them, not for more than a moment anyway. His tired eyes were naturally drawn to the woman at his side instead. Sometimes he still couldn't believe that they were...well, a couple he supposed. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards.
"Certainly is."

Settra pulled at the side of his shirt to show the skin underneath, revealing a now healed-over wound, still pink from the relative recentness of the damage.
"Coming along. Thankfully it wasn't very deep. I'm much more concerned for your ribs..."
Ah, there was that familiar, telltale body language of hers, those endearing little motions that gave away her subtext every single time. That was one of the things he'd grown to love about her. Of course, right now she was apparently nervous about something, likely worried that they'd be separated, he assumed.
"She spoke to me about taking my pick of new assignments, which I thought was strange. I don't usually get a choice, and 'be Nym's body guard' generally isn't an option." He replied wryly, another small smile just barely betraying his deadpan attempt at humor. That tone quickly shifted to a slight tinge of curiosity at the last bit of detail the princess gave him, however. "I hadn't heard you were leaving, though."

 

[Nym]

Her cheeks warmed slightly, her smile almost shy as she realised he'd been looking at her. He had a way of catching her off guard like that. Not many people ever had. Her lips twisted with fond amusement, and as he lifted his shirt her emerald gaze drifted to the healing wound with a pang of guilt. She couldn't help but reach out and let her fingertips trail over the raw flesh as he spoke and she sighed with a shake of her head.

"They seem to break a little easier since Gerra smashed them to pieces." she snorted. "But they're healing, and I'm training..gently." she added with a smirk.

Nym's smile grew wider. "Be Nym's bodyguard.." she repeated with a soft laugh under her breath and playfully nudged at him with a hip. "Like I need one." Her laughter died away and her smile faltered as she nodded in confirmation, shifting to turn to face him.

"I'm going back to Salitra.. She's, giving me the throne." she chewed on her lip, fixing her gaze on his. "I've been thinking over it, a lot. And I'd like you by my side, if that's something that you want. It's your choice, and I'll understand if you say no just, be honest. I'm having a difficult time leaving Medja's side too.." she frowned nervously.

 

[Settra]

Gentle fingers dragged over tender flesh, and Settra welcomed Nym's touch. He relished any chance he had to be close to her, be it sitting on a bench eating fruit or otherwise. Pauses between hits were few and far between; Medja practically had a backlog for him by the time he got back. It just made these little moments all the more valuable...

"They seem to break a little easier since Gerra smashed them to pieces."

Settra blinked slowly at the statement and his brow furrowed slightly. That certainly wasn't something he had expected to hear today.
"That is...concerning. I had heard that the God-King was prone to losing his temper, but..." His mind turned to the wicked x-shaped scar on his mistress' chest, a mark that had been the talk of many a furious Hand in the weeks following Drakormir's rise and fall. He had been in that caravan, yet he'd been powerless to stop it from happening... "I didn't realize that he had such a penchant for breaking women."

He shook himself. Medja had already explained that it wasn't his fault and he needn't feel any guilt over the matter. Similarly, there was little he could've done to halt Nym's injuries, though he wished he could have.
"Still, if you would like to, we could train together..." He trailed off, suddenly shy for reasons he himself didn't quite understand.

"Like I need one."

This earned a vestige of a laugh from the assassin and a sideways smile.
"True. The Viper of Salitra can clearly fend for herself." He jested in his monotone way, poking a finger into her ribs. As she turned the conversation to more serious matters, however, he woke up a bit more and straightened his posture.

"That's...big. Very big." Settra mulled over the information for a moment before answering. "My devotion to Medja comes first, but as I said, she's given me the choice of following you again."

He took her hand in his own and gazed back at her with glassy, umber eyes. For him, this was an easy choice...but he couldn't imagine that it would be the same for her.
"I know where I'd rather be. Are you sure you want this?"

 

[Nym]

Nym laughed bitterly under her breath, her hand running subconsciously over her ribs, still tightly wrapped under her clothes. "We were venting our frustrations in a spar. I've done worse to him." she admitted with a snort, her distaste of the God Emperor had never been a secret, even from Gerra.

She flashed a smile at his offer and she nodded quickly. "I'd like that. As long as you wouldn't go easy on me, that is." she narrowed her gaze in amusement. She realised now that it was unlikely that her sparring partners would be quite so willing to hold nothing back and risk hurting her, and she briefly wondered if any would spar with her at all. She wouldn't have any need to anymore, of course, but she wanted to. She couldn't change who she was.

Her bright eyes narrowed with a warm smile at the tease and title, and she dropped her gaze, that rare shyness betrayed by the awkward laugh. It was infinitely untrue, of course. Had he not accompanied with her on her latest mission, she wouldn't have returned and she knew that well.

As Settra took hold of her hand, she settled the other atop his and met his gaze. It was ridiculous how nervous she felt, for asking such a thing and trying to prepare herself for him to say no. Her chest ached at the thought and she chewed idly on the inside of her lip.

'I know where I'd rather be..'

Her brows rose at him. "I hope that means with me.." another breath of a laugh tumbled from her lips, her cheeks warm. "I want to fix what my father broke. I want to be better than he was.. But I only want it if you agree to come with me. I need someone that I trust by my side." she frowned. "I need you."

 

[Settra]

Settra raised a brow at what he could only define as a bold claim. Gerra, half fire giant and demigod extraordinaire, smashing the ribcage of a human woman that barely reached the titan's beltbuckle was believable. But for that same beltbuckle-height woman to do worse to him?
"I'd...be interested in hearing that story sometime." Settra replied hesitantly. Then a subtle smirk wormed its way over him. "Perhaps I should be the one asking for his partner not to pull her punches."

By now, in his eyes, Nym's embarrassed mannerisms were wholly unwarranted...but gods were they cute. One day she'd learn that she could always be confident around him, and he wasn't sure if he'd miss her shyly playing around the subject like this. Regardless, he'd come to know a very resourceful and strong woman in Nym. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she'd have found a way to succeed against her uncle in his absence.

"I need you."

Three simple words, yet they sent shivers running down his back and made his heart well full. He pulled their entangling hands up between them and planted a kiss on the back of one of hers.
"Nymeasha...I would follow you to the end of the horizon if you wished it. Whatever challenge awaits you, I'll be by your side. And..." He paused thoughtfully and sighed. Some vestige of Ismael scolding him for holding attachments flickered in some dark corner of his mind, and he promptly pushed it down. Settra brought one of his hands to softly caress Nym's face. Training be damned.

"...and I need you, too." He finished, then rested his forehead against hers.

 

[Nym]

Nym could only laugh under her breath at his surprise over her feuds with Gerra. She knew that she was lucky to be alive for things that she'd said and done in spite of the Emperor, he'd made it clear to her just how easy ending her life would have been for him and he'd given her the scars to prove it. Had it not been for Kiia, she'd still have them, but it hadn't erased the memory. Those battles were her own, and whilst the half-giant was gone gallivanting, she didn't have to worry about him bothering her.

She could feel her heart pound a little slower yet twice as hard in her chest, as though time itself had slowed as she waited on his answer. She was of no doubt that he cared for her, he'd proved as much, but she also knew how dedicated he was to Medja's service. Perhaps she was being selfish and presumptuous to think he'd ever leave the Empress' side for her sake. Why should he?

The kiss to the back of her hand, the way he spoke her name, that pause. Her chest ached, certain that it was the start of an apology, and she already had the reassurance that it was 'fine' and how she understood sitting there, waiting on her tongue to try and save her pride from being dented too much. Her heart would be another matter.

'I would follow you to the end of the horizon if you wished it. Whatever challenge awaits you, I'll be by your side. And.....and I need you too.'

She let out a shuddered breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, her hand resting on his, holding it against her face as her other reached to cup his cheek. She smiled so brightly that it ached and her eyes closed, allowing the rising panic to settle back down, for his answer to sink in before she seized his lips with her own, the kiss charged with every ounce of gratitude and relief she felt.

"Are you certain?.." she asked against his lips as she paused for breath. "If you'd rather stay I.." she frowned as she looked at him. "I'd stay with you."

 

[Settra]

Electricity danced through Settra as Nym closed the gap between them, tying the two into a kiss that held no less passion than their very first. He cherished these moments dearly, that pure smile that precluded their locking lips now forever etched into his mind. Settra breathed in the moments as he could, burning every detail into his memory. How could he ever let her down? His precious dawn...the woman he had come to love, even if he hadn't yet had the courage to say it.

When she pulled back ever slightly to ask her question, Settra reassured her again. He would do so as many times as she wanted.
"I am. My only home is with you, no matter what path you choose to walk." He murmured back to her, eyes easing open to drink more of her in. His tone bordered on wistful as he followed up on the assurance. "Besides...I think building something new might be a good change of pace from ending lives."

Settra stroked a hand over Nym's head and through her hair as he continued to hold her close. Such anxiety built up in so short a time...he started to feel a pang of guilt for having jumped so quickly back into the grind of his work after they'd returned. What was more, he saw the mutual benefit of having more time to spend together...but Nym's uncertainty still bothered him.
"But...you also should know that your father's legacy doesn't bind you. Make the choice you think is right for you. No one will judge you for doing any different."

 

[Nym]

Gods she had missed him, missed his calming reassurance and unshakable faith in her strength when she needed it most. "This is precisely why I need you by my side.." she whispered softly, a quiet laugh tumbling from her lips as she leaned into his touch.

She couldn't quite describe how he made her feel, she had never been cared for in such a way. He made it seem effortless and determined all at once. This was the affection she craved, the nurturing warmth she needed to grow and blossom. Her gentle sun and cool rain from which she hoped she'd never be sheltered from again. She chose him for his soul, for his wish to protect her, for his soft hands that reflected his true self. She chose him for his quiet warmth, not the burning of one who possesses, nor the chill of one who was further away than he appeared. He brought out the best in her, and each time she feared he might leave her side, he proved her wrong. She knew now that she could trust him with her life, and perhaps she was learning to trust him with the heart he seemed so intent on mending.

"How is it that you always seem to know what to say to me to calm my storms?.." she asked, her lips twitching into a smirk, a thumb caressing his jaw as she studied that face that he no longer hid from her, that she was so grateful to ever have seen at all. "You make me believe that I'm worthy of more, that I can be better. So I want to try.. I don't want to live in shadows for the rest of my life.." she frowned, thinking of Navran's life and his miserable end, the life her father had intended for her. She was good at what she did, an expert assassin, the sharpest blade in her father's arsenal, not a daughter or sister or Princess.

"Thank you for coming with me." she sighed deeply and drew her thumb over his lips before she kissed them once more.

 

[Settra]

Nym wasn't the only one who had come to crave the other's affections. Holding her in his embrace had come to feel right, even natural. The feeling of her leaning her wait into him spoke so many wonderful volumes, gave him the knowledge that she trusted him deeply and felt safe in his arms. In its own way it was a comfort to Settra as well; it was a response to a question he'd never asked aloud: could he ever be more than the killer he was meant to be? In her warmth he found the answer, and knew it to be definitively 'yes.'

Her question earned a humored puff of air through his nose. Settra had never been one to mince words, his worldview practical and based wholly in what he could observe.
"I speak only truth...but I'm grateful to be your rock." He answered her, cradling her face in his hands with that same level of measured tenderness. Her touch on his own face was something he was still growing accustomed to, but he cherished it. For so long he'd been ashamed of even having it, been so used to keeping it hidden away...yet she met him face to face and heart to heart, and she accepted him for all he was worth. For that much, aiding her in following her path was the least he could do. She was better than she truly knew...he just had to help her see.

"Then let's face the light together." Settra offered back quietly before meeting her kiss and wrapping her beneath his arms again. He broke away only to finish the thought:
"I wouldn't have it any other way."

 

[Nym]

In the quiet moment, when all the world seemed to pause, when she felt so very lucky to see right into his eyes, Nym found the wordless definition for joy.

She sighed happily and let the happiness soak deep into her bones, wanting the feeling to still be there when she was old. She closed her eyes and savoured the moment, the warm touch of his hands on her face, his lips against hers. Her body and mind relaxed and with his definitive assurance, she felt the confidence bloom in her chest. She could do this, with him she could. It was a toilsome belief to find in herself, the confidence of the phoenix, of one who had suffered into ash, reborn in the flames of hot pain and commanded to sing. It was confidence hard-won yet deep, anchored in the true self that was always safe at her core. The sort that grew within, purging that which was born of fear, clearing the way for love to grow, to take up every aspect who she was. And in that rawness, in that absolute vulnerability she had never felt so safe.

Her chest ached as she felt her emotions swell like a tide and she cast him a radiant smile as she slowly shifted onto his lap.. "Why don't... We take the rest of the day to.." her lips pursed and she rolled her eyes as though searching for a good way of putting it.. "Discuss our plans and such.." she kissed one corner of his mouth.. "In my chambers.." and then the other. "And you can tell me how cold your bed has been without me in it." she grinned, her nose grazing against his.

She wasn't sure how much time they would have alone when they got to Salitra, there was much to be done and she assumed most of her time and energy would be spent elsewhere. And so she could think of no better way of spending her last two days in Annuakat than ensuring they left the city both thoroughly relaxed.

 

[Settra]

Settra could feel the tension in Nym's form melt away. In this moment he knew that he'd done what he was meant to, what he needed to, fulfilled a purpose greater than what he had been programmed to. For the moment, that was enough. The simple knowledge that he'd improved the life--or even the day--of the person he cared about most, rather than ending another's life was satisfying in ways he hadn't thought possible. Being there for Nym was its own reward.

"Why don't... We take the rest of the day to...Discuss our plans and such...In my chambers.."

...Of course, the other rewards were also quite gratifying. He quirked a brow as Nym's meandering suggestion progressed, and as she concluded he found a slight blushing smile creeping in on him unbidden.
"I, um...would like that very much." He conceded quietly to her before pushing forward to once again bridge the gap between their lips.

Regardless of what challenges would face them in the future, he knew in his heart as his lips grazed hers that they would face them together...and as long as they did so, they would triumph.

 

[Nym]

When he hadn't visited her chambers upon their return to Annuakat, that part of her that he constantly sought to reassure had niggled away at her mind. Her mission was complete, he'd done his job, and things would most likely return to how they once had been. She'd warmed his bed for a while, scratched an itch, but now he had his pick, she had assumed..because she didn't deserve someone like him.

Settra had been given a choice in accepting Medja's most recent task. That had been essential. It had to be his choice, and he'd chosen her, crushing all doubt with his answer. She wasn't sure if he'd ever truly understand what it had meant to her, for someone to show her loyalty, to care about her enough to want to be by her side.

That he still seemed somewhat shy around her caused a pleasant ache in her chest and she was unable to resist the laugh that fell from her grinning lips. Fuck it. She was going to enjoy him, enjoy their careless time together. She was going to soothe his every ache and let him kiss her every fading bruise. The day was theirs to thoroughly explore every inch, for quiet pillow talk and gentle caresses.

Nym had tucked herself against him in a tangle of limbs and silk sheets by the time the sun hung low in the sky once more, her fingertips drawing idle circles on his chest and a deep sigh of contentment tumbling from her lips.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever get enough of this.." she groaned softly and bit down on her lip, her emerald gaze drifting to his face. She knew it was happiness that she felt, but the thought caused a knot of anxiety to tighten in her stomach. She had let herself feel that before. Had she not been aware of how pathetic it would have sounded she'd have asked him outright not to abandon her. Instead she silently hoped. She couldn't take it again, not with him. It felt different with him..Nobody had ever looked at her the way he did, had ever worshipped her like he seemed to, the way he seemed to listen to her as though her words were golden, like some elixir he'd been waiting all his days to hear.

She wanted so badly to trust that it would last. Time. With time she'd believe it. Each time he proved her wrong was another piece of her put back together, and slowly, she'd let him build, and she'd been all the stronger for it, because of him.

 

[Settra]

Skin on skin, shared warmth, the tangle of bodies beneath bedsheets...The fact that there was a level of familiarity to these sensations brought a level of comfort to Settra that he hadn't quite thought possible. He savored these moments. Just enjoying a bit of human contact was like a balm to his soul, but to do so with Nym? It was like supping at ambrosia.

Now they laid together, entwined, worn, and momentarily satisfied from their latest tryst. Emphasis on 'momentarily.' Nym's quiet comment and look spoke to what Settra felt: any satiation was temporary. It was only a matter of time before he'd want her again. And again. And again. Just the way she bit her lip sent his heart aflutter once more, made him flush with desire.

Settra cradled his lover's head and planted a kiss on her supple lips, tender and slow, before meeting her gaze.
"I know I never will." He husked back in a quiet rasp. "I could have you again and again, and each time will be as awe inspiring as the first."

He knew her heart by now. Knew her insecurities. He still silently cursed the man that dared to have inflicted such damage upon a heart as radiant as hers. Settra would do no such thing, that much he'd already sworn to himself. Only death would take him from her.

 

[Nym]

Nym smiled so wide that her jaw ached with it, and she gave a husky laugh at his words. "Awe inspiring, hm?.." she purred and bit down on her lip lest her grin split her face in two. She rolled herself atop him, her arms folding across his chest, her chin resting there as she studied his face with a sigh.

"Well.." she paused, her lips twisting as she fought for the words. She wanted him to know how much he'd come to mean to her, and yet once it was out there, it couldn't be taken back, once he knew how happy she was, he could crush her with it. She had been naive before.

And yet. Everything about this felt different. He was different.

She sighed, breathing out her trepidations, and finally continued.. "I am..so happy, that you chose to accompany me. And I am yours, for as long as you want me." she declared quietly and locked her eyes on his, absently biting on the inside of her lip.

 

[Settra]

Settra savored every idiosyncrasy that played across his lover's face, felt his heart beat in time with her every word. Hers was a gaze that he couldn't turn away, and with merely a look she pulled him back into her once again. Whatever would come in their near future, they would face it together...

---

...was what he recalled thinking the day before their departure from Annuakat. It hadn't been all that long since then, of course, as the duo were only just now completing their journey to Nym's home, both old and new, Salitra. Those thoughts still held very true to the assassin, but somehow he'd allowed some degree of doubt to encroach on the corners of his mind, a realization that very much troubled him. Busy as both halves of the duo once were in their previous roles, the idea that they would have nearly no time to themselves whatsoever was a creeping fear that had begun to gnaw away at him over the course of their journey.

Familiar gates lay before them, ones that previously were both barred by and allowed entry through by that mysterious, armored warrior, Zalika. By now, Settra didn't know what to expect. Salitra was still largely unfamiliar to the assassin, much as he was certain this new role would be to his partner. He eyed her carefully from beneath his hood as they made their approach. Just what would Salitra hold for them now? Were they really up to this life?

 

[Nym]

The closer they came, the more she realised that turning back wasn’t an option, and before she knew it she was on the steps to the palace, catching Settra’s gaze as she marched to the top and in through the palace doors with all the assurance of a queen. Only he would know her doubts, her weaknesses.

She didn’t know if any had claimed the empty throne since she and Settra had left it empty. Some of the palace was still in ruin, thanks to her uncle’s golems, but she’d soon see it fixed. She turned to the guards, bidding that they station themselves at the doors of the palace and that they spread out throughout, bringing to her any who resided within it would oppose her claim. Once she had secured the palace, there would be a large recruitment of soldiers and staff.

Nym gave Settra a sidelong look as the throne room doors opened before them, and several guards flanked her as she strode inside.

 

[Settra]

If Nym did have any apprehensions, she certainly didn't show them. She approached the palace with unflappable confidence, as though she owned the place -- and by all rights, she did. Stoic as Settra might've seemed, Nymeasha's attitude had a heavy influence over his own. Her bravado inspired his own.

All authority fell to the daughter of Soleiman. Backed by the Empire's blessing and with many knowing full well of the princess' conquest of the throne, not a single soul stood to challenge her. Medja's Sapphire hands had played a part in both sowing the rumors and reaping the rewards of knowledge; with Navran's death Nym now commanded fear, respect, and admiration...at least among those who worked and lived close to the throne itself. If there was to be any unrest, it would be among the citizenry or nobility, not the guards or the royal court.

Or, if history had anything to say about it, such disruption would come from her own family. True, Navran was dead and gone...but that errant brother of hers, Amar, might one day pose a problem...

Settra met that look from Nym with stony resolve and a nod from behind his mask. No turning back. The only way was forward now.

As the doors swung inward a familiar sight greeted the both of them: the throne and its surroundings, under new construction from the havoc they'd wreaked not long ago. Several faces turned to greet them both, some fresh, some not. Robed individuals that Settra assumed to be courtiers regarded them as they entered, though they clearly were sizing up Nymeasha far more than they cared to pay any mind to Settra or the new sultana's guards. Among them was the smiling face of an older woman, a face that Settra had until now only seen unconscious: Nym's own mother.

Artisans, court officials, and family alike fell quiet as the sultana entered, waiting on baited breath for what might happen next...

 

[Nym]

"My daughter. Welcome home."

Nym fought the urge to frown at her mother's greeting. It was an odd thing to her to be acknowledged as her daughter in front of others, let alone so publicly. Much had changed since her father had sat on the throne, but she had not expected that his death would change her mother's coldness toward her. Still, Nym forced her emerald eyes to narrow slightly in effort to make her smile appear more genuine as she regarded the woman upon her approach.

"Mother." Nym spoke softly, reaching to take the woman's outstretched hands to squeeze gently, but that's as far as the affection would go. "I'm pleased to see you well." she nodded, and regarded the other faces who all watched her with varying expressions, though expectation seemed the overriding feeling.

"Some of you I recognise, others I do not." she said, raising her voice and her chin in assurance as she stepped up onto the first level of the dais to give her a little more height. Her brow furrowed and her hands clasped together in front of her in casual confidence.

"For those not yet aware, my name is Nymeasha Soleiman. I was raised in the shadows of this city, and I have fought for it since I was a child. To many of you, I may still be a child, but that underestimation has been a harsh lesson to all who have made it. Our Empress, has bid me to return home and take the throne that she believes that I have proved myself worthy of. If any of you wish to raise any disagreement of our Empress' decision or my claim on Salitra, of course, you will have the opportunity to speak and I will humbly listen." she smiled, and let her gaze wander the gathered courtiers in silence.

 

[Settra]

Among all of those present in the throne room, there were eleven who bore an intimidating presence. Eleven who radiated an aura of authority. Eleven who met Nymeasha's speech with equal confidence and poise, and who looked upon her with curiosity and recognition. Even in a colorful crowd, these few stood out from among the rest. These were who Nym was really speaking to, those who truly mattered here.

"How interesting," An extravagantly dressed Abtati stepped forward from the crowd, a disarming smile on his mien, and broke the silence. "Then with a Soleiman finally back on the throne, I believe we have a quorum once again, at last."

"HA! About fuckin' time. Somebody bring the damn chairs in!" Shouted a barrel chested Komodi, his voice loud enough to echo throughout the room.

"You will mind your tongue, Savant Vadrak. That is the daughter of Sultan Soleiman. The Sultana." The Komodi was immediately scolded by a human man in Salitran military garb.

"And by succession this time. I'm surprised the Empire deigned to allow for this. Though shouldn't the position have gone to the late Sultan's eldest son?" A confident woman chimed in, arms folded across her chest.

"That tradition hasn't been observed in centuries. If she is eldest, and if she is worthy, then it is her rightful place." Retorted an elephantine beastfolk who towered over the rest in the room.

Bickering began to ensue as each, in turn, spoke their piece. The bickering quickly devolved into chaos. All the while servants hauled in heavy, ornate seats and put them into place, each surrounding the throne proper.

Settra stood back in awe. He'd stood by in the shadows before while Medja had attended the Imperial Divan. The Divan was often a hotbed of discussion, where each of the Viziers and representatives would offer their opinions, plans, and ideals. This was...not that. These people were cutthroat. Settra side-eyed Nym. This was her show to run...what would she do now?

 

[Nym]

Nym's chin dipped graciously to the abtati, her lips gave a slight twitch at the Komodi and she had to clear her throat in effort to hide her amusement as the man intervened. She made no attempt to respond to the woman's reservations and instead, as promised, she humbly listened. It was important to her to know what they truly felt, and for them to feel that they had the freedom to express their thoughts and opinions without punishment. If she was to trust her own people like her father had not, it was essential.

And then there was chaos, and Nym fought to maintain an aura of confidence despite her chest tightening a little more with each second that passed. Her expression remained passive, her hands still clasped, and yet her mind was spinning with doubt and trepidation. What had she gotten herself into?

She glanced to Settra, catching his eye and exchanging a look before she turned to face the crowd in conflict with a deep breath. She had never any voice let alone a loud one, but as much as trust was essential, so too was authority, and she quietly reminded herself that she was her father's daughter. There were at least some life lessons which she could put to good use.

"I HOPE!!" she cut in, surprised at the strength of her own voice despite how she squirmed desperately beneath her skin. "That this is NOT the way any of you conduct yourselves in council meetings." she frowned as she looked across each one of their disquieted expressions. "Your thoughts and opinions are important to me but they are a courtesy- and one that my father would not have paid you. Let me make it plain before you decide whether you wish to offer your services and advise me. I am not my father, I intend on trusting you all where he did not. I intend on ruling Salitra and making it stronger, not weaker. Never again will our people starve or live in fear. They are ours to protect, this city is ours to build. We can learn from past mistakes and grow something far greater than my father ever did."

"My brother was not the Empress' choice. I was. As such, her decision is beyond contestation. If you believe me too young and inexperienced then stay, advise me, but make no mistake - I am Sultana of Salitra. And still I need the Eleven, each of you have knowledge and experience that are invaluable. This is the beginning of a new Salitra, and it is your choice whether you stay, or leave." she concluded, the last of her words echoing back to her and making her cringe slightly, not that it showed.

And then, she waited.

 

[Settra]

Settra had little to offer for Nym except an encouraging glance. He was completely out of his depth here, and equally bewildered by the antics of these supposed council members. By all rights, he was technically not allowed to speak here, and doing so would likely just undermine Nym's authority anyways. As Nym turned back to address her new subjects, Settra could only furrow his brow and hope.

Nymeasha's shout from atop her throne, to the surprise of not just her, but many in the room, carried enough to silence the bickering. In her following speech, some of the Eleven looked on sternly, others with smirks, some with smiles, and a few with apathy.

Of the unimpressed, a large man wrapped in luxurious silks blinked slowly and took a slow draw of his pipe, even as he began to sit himself in one of the eleven seats that had been placed around the throne.
"With respect, Sultana, we would, all of us, be fools to give up our seats upon this council." The man grumbled out as he situated himself, smoke billowing from his lips as he did. An upturned, pudgy, wrinkled hand reached up to gesture at a few of the younger council members. "And any who would cite your age or inexperience as reason for leaving would be fools all the more so."

A robed man with glowing, blue eyes cleared his throat before taking a seat of his own, a gentle smile stretching across his mien. "It is as you have said, milady. We are here as your guides. Our dismissal, or our retention, shalt be decided by your will and the hundreds', not our own."

The Komodi from before coughed loudly, the word *bullshit* mixed clearly within the cough, and the priestly looking man turned his head towards him and frowned.

"Perhaps," Spoke a bespectacled woman as she took one of the more elaborate seats nearest to Nymeasha. "It would be best if you were to call us to a proper meeting, your grace."

None made to leave, but some were clearly unimpressed. There was much to do...