Completed Newcomer

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia had established herself in Ragash quickly. As with all cities, there was no shortage of those seeking aid and guidance, and she was more than happy to provide. Beginning in the markets beneath a cloth stall she quickly moved to a building nearer the palace. It was a modest structure made of sandstone, with a few small windows that allowed the air to flow without letting in too much of the oppressive heat, and a skylight for smoke to escape from. Within was lit by burning candles and glittering refractory crystals, and smoke of incense hung heavy. A central brazier kept a steady blaze going and all around was greenery. Ragash was not desolate, but this amount of plant life was very unusual. The water alone would be costly, but somehow Kiia had managed to maintain her collection of shrubs, vines, and cacti.

She had attracted a number of followers that made this possible. Sand elves were eager to recall the histories and legends of their oral tradition, and there were always those seeking guidance from the gods and power to heal their wounds and illnesses. In return they gave her gold, food, clothing, and more plants, and Kiia was able to live comfortably.

Today had been slow, but that was alright. Some days were busier than others and it typically depended on work schedules and various holidays. Kiia was nearly done cooking a flavorful curry over the fire with spices and fresh lamb meat that she had been gifted just an hour before. The aroma was intoxicating, and mingled surprisingly well with the few sticks of incense that still burned.


Nymeasha

 

[Nym]

It'd been the first time the princess had set foot outside the palace walls since she'd been dragged there in the days following her father's death. It felt strange, and she found herself more paranoid than she'd ever been in public now that she was no longer her father's best kept secret. Gerra had reminded her of how unsafe she truly was, her father was a tyrant of the worst sort and there were still plenty of rebels who'd gladly cut her throat if they knew who she was. She didn't believe she'd be recognised, at least not here, but it paid to be careful and she'd dressed herself in a fine white linen cloak and hood which draped elegantly over her raven hair and hid most of her face as her gaze remained downcast.

She glanced over her shoulder more than once as she moved through the droves of people going about their business in the market. She recognised the two men who were following her, she'd seen them in the palace and knew they'd been sent to escort and keep an eye on her... Nothing got past Medja, but at least they'd given her the space she desired.

Nym had heard word of the new healer in the city, she'd seen several over the last two days and they'd each plied her with more salves and oils and told her that the healing would take time and to expect some light scarring. It simply wasn't an option. Nym wore each of her scars without shame, reminders of hard learned lessons, but the Emperor's handprint on her wrist had left an imprint on her mind as much as her skin and she wanted it gone.

With another quick look at the two men who distantly followed her, she waited until the crowd clouded their vision of her and swiftly stole into the sandstone building and pressed her back to the door as it closed. It was the pleasant smell that she noticed first of all and she breathed it in as her eyes adjusted to the light and gazed around the smoky room at the various crystals and curious verdure.

Jade hues settled then on the rather striking elven woman with a momentary blank stare before she cleared her throat.. "Are you Kiia?.." she asked softly and dropped her hood.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia's eyes flicked over to the door as it was opened, but she did not move from tending the curry. The newcomer had entered hurredly, and seemed eager to escape the prying eyes of the street. She set down the silver ladle she had been stirring with and sat up straight, regarding Nymeasha with a soft and welcoming face.

"I am," she said in a voice as smooth as the silks she wore. She cast a momentary glance out of the small window beside the door, but could see nothing specific through the tiny opening, and immediately returned her gaze to her guest.

She was far too beautiful and much too clean to be anything but nobility. The linen cloak was likely much more plain than her usual clothing, perhaps a disguise? Her tension would be fitting for a runaway. Poor thing, she hadn't thought to dirty the fabric. She wouldn't convince anyone that she was common with such pristine garb.

"Please, join me," she beckoned for Nymeasha to sit next to her on a colorful cushion by the fire. "It has just finished cooking." She withdrew a clay bowl from her side and poured a hearty helping of the steaming meal into it, offering it to the woman.

She did not ask why this person had come bursting into her home. Nymeasha would tell her soon enough. Better now to make her feel at ease. They would have a much better conversation that way, and Kiia was very eager to hear this runaway's story.

 

[Nym]

"Oh I.. don't want to be of trouble.." she frowned softly to the woman as she ladled a bowl of food and offered it to her. It did smell incredible.. Her shoulders lifted and fell with a quiet sigh, she supposed she could use some more time out of the palace doing normal things with normal people.

She sat herself down on the cushion and reached to take the bowl with both hands and offered a warm smile to the woman as she lifted the dish closer to her nose to take in the aroma. "Thank you.." she nodded, and settled the bowl down into her lap.

"I've heard good things about your work. I had hoped you'd be able to take a look at a burn for me. My wish is only to avoid scarring, if that is something you're practised in?" her dark brows rose as she studied the charming woman, bright pools of jade sparkling with curiosity..

 

[Kiia Sidra]

"It is no trouble," she said, filling a bowl for herself. "The meat needed to be cooked tonight, but I am afraid it was too much for me alone. It is really quite fortunate that you came along." She too placed the bowl in her lap to cool.

Kiia's face remained kind and impassive, a practiced look meant to comfort and invite. She was supposed to be seen as a source of relief and support, after all, a reminder of the gods' mercy. Behind her topaz eyes, however, a hundred thoughts turned in her mind. Who was this woman, who was she hiding from, and why had she come to her specifically? Surely someone of her status could afford to have the healer come to her.

"I have cured many burns, yes. My methods do not typically leave a mark, but that may depend on the severity of your wound." Her words suggested that Nym should show her the burn, but she would not ask this directly. People could be quite sensitive about their appearance, and would be much more comfortable if allowed to reveal themselves in their own time.

And a comfortable client would be more talkative.

 

[Nym]

The woman had a remarkably calming way about her that set Nym almost instantly at ease in her company. The environment was almost ataractic, and she felt the tension in her mind and muscles ease a little more with every passing second.

Her fingers curled under the fabric of her cloak to reveal her arm. Her wrist was currently wrapped in fresh linen and she'd no doubt recognise the scents of aloe and calendula that did their work in soothing the burn, but the pain hadn't been an issue for her. The imprint was more on her mind, and she didn't need visible reminders of the very short leash she was still on.

She tugged gently at the knot and unfurled the fabric and let it fall away to reveal the dark burn in the perfect shape of a huge handprint that curled around the entirety of her wrist and hand of her forearm. "The pain doesn't bother me. I..seem to scar easily." she frowned gently, she had many scars, it wasn't something that ever bothered her, but no healer had ever mended her wounds without leaving scarring behind. She hoped this one would be different...

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia felt a jolt of adrenaline as the shape of the burn was revealed. Her eyes widened for only a moment before she regained control and concealed her thoughts. She had seen only one person in Ragash with hands that large, and it so happened that this man wept fire from his very flesh.

The situation suddenly made much more sense. She had been correct about Nymeasha’s noble status, but she had severely underestimated the level of that nobility. Royalty was the proper term here, and significant enough to have intimate contact with the emperor himself.

She had heard of the emperor’s wives and various concubines, but this woman didn’t look like just a pretty plaything. No, she was no harem maid, and she had clearly stepped out of line at some point.

Her secrecy made sense. No doubt this mark had been given as punishment, something that men liked to rebrand as a “lesson.” She had healed enough bruised women to recognize when their husbands had wanted to “teach” vs when they just wanted to hurt.

She understood why Nym wanted this scar removed, but she also understood why the emperor would want it to remain. In a matter of seconds, as she turned the elegant arm over in her hands, she thought on what to do. She could remove the mark easily, for the burn was not severe. Would the emperor be angry with her if she did? No, she reasoned she could make the excuse that she did not wish to refuse a request from a royal lady.

“I can fix this,” she said simply, but her eyes looked up at Nym’s jade gaze, and they spoke with a voice of their own. I know who did this, and I know who you are.

She stood up and began looking over her numerous potted plants, running a hand over each one as she considered it. Finally, she settled on a medium-sized cactus, round and with a large pink flower on top. “A desert cure for a desert ail.” She brought it over and set the pot down before sitting across from Nym once more.

Took Nym’s arm in her left hand, gingerly cupping the burn. She set her right hand very gently over the thorns of the cactus, and closed her eyes. It was quiet for a few seconds, and then the cactus shuddered. The verdant flesh began to turn dark, and the succulent plant began to shrink and shrivel in on itself. The flower blackened and fell petal by petal. After a minute it was no more than a dead, decrepit husk.

Then, with a crease in Kiia’s brow, she pushed the stolen life force into Nymeasha’s arm. The burn would, if it were typical, begin to simply wash away. Her flesh would become soft and smooth once more, and the angry scarred skin would revert to healthy, normal tissue.

She had taken far more energy from the plant than she needed, but she hadn’t been entirely sure how a burn from the “demigod” would react.

 

[Nym]

Nym wore a soft frown as her eyes searched the woman's face for any reaction. She knew the woman had known where the mark had come from, it was hardly inconspicuous, but she read the words unspoken in her gaze and she gently dipped her chin and allowed the vaguest twitch of a smile to touch her lips. The words she did speak however mollified her worries and she allowed her frown to break and her gaze narrowed with a warm smile.

"I am pleased to hear it." she sighed, and watched with avid curiosity as she seemed to consider which of the plants to choose. She chewed gently on her lip, plants and herbs had until now been fine to soothe the scorched skin of irritation but she was unsure that any would be up to the desired task. Her lips parted, about to express her concern over the matter, but they closed again and her thought on the matter remained locked behind her teeth, deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Jade hues narrowed and moved from the woman's face, to the plant, to her arm as she waited for something to happen. The same gaze widened moments later as she watched as the plant seemed to wither and die, as though being drained dry of life by the Kiia's touch. She smiled with anticipation, she was no ordinary healer, and her faith was instantly restored.

The weight off of her mind as she watched the burn dissipate was immense and she let out an audible sound of relief as she sighed. She studied the skin with a quiet laugh and reached to grip the woman's hand to emphasise the sincerity of her thanks.. "Thank you.... It was, terribly ugly." she smiled warmly.

"I am sorry about your plant, though.." she thought it polite to say..

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia opened her eyes and was happy to see that the burn had indeed been wiped from the woman's flesh. She had been confident in her abilities, of course, but there were many unknowns to this "djinn" that her people had raised as their messiah. This, at least, served as some indication that his abilities may not be infinite.

She nodded gently at the thanks, and she felt the sincerity of it through Nym's grip. She returned a light squeeze with her hand. "I live to serve," she said serenely. At the mention of her plant she looked towards the dried cactus as if she had forgotten it was there.

"Oh, it is no concern, I have many. A simple price to pay for health... and beauty." She ran her other hand over the newly smooth skin on Nymeasha's forearm, gentle fingers tracing the veins and tendons. This woman was strong, it was evident in her muscles, but also her tone, and especially her eyes.

"My services are free to all who need them," she began, still caressing the arm. "But... I would ask just one favor. Not as payment. Simply as... a friend." She moved her eyes up and started directly at Nym. "As one wanderer to another. You strike me as someone who has not had a true home in some time."

 

[Nym]

Nym's eyes narrowed in a soft smile as the woman's fingertips explored her work. She wished she could explain the relief she'd felt.

She had been about to protest to the free service but stopped as she mentioned something of a favour. Her eyes fell briefly to Kiia's hands as the woman continued to caress her arm like someone she'd known for a long time, yet somehow she felt comfortable to allow it, the woman's touch was tranquillising.

Friend?... This woman seemed to imprint on her mind so quickly, and for a moment Nym considered whether there had been some sort of underlying magic at work, or whether her kind and gentle way was just so utterly inviting that Nym, who craved any sort of solicitude, was drawn straight to her.

Her words caused her gaze to narrow a little more, wondering how she could tell those things just from a few minutes in her company. Perhaps Nym wasn't as unreadable as she'd like to have thought. "Of course, anything.." she dipped her chin, and searched the woman's eyes as though they might speak for her.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia's face stayed in its gentle expression, but internally she felt a flash of victory at Nym's agreement. She had not come all the way to Ragash to remain a street-level preacher, after all, and someone of nobility could certainly aid her.

She needed information, data with which to formulate her next move. It would be bold of her to ask such things, but if her suspicions were correct and Nym was indeed hiding from prying eyes... she was at the priestess' mercy for the time being.

"Stay the night and speak with me," she said finally. "I make my living in stories, and I should like to know yours." Careful, measured, she needed to ease into this slowly. Her visitor would not give up secrets so quickly, she knew this.

She pushed just a tiny bit more lifeforce into Nymeasha, enough to give a pleasant warming sensation, but nothing too noticeable. "We can start with your name, if you please?"

 

[Nym]

"The night?.. I .." Nym frowned briefly and cast a glance toward the window. They'd no doubt think she'd made a run for it, not that she was a prisoner per se, but she was employed and she didn't want Medja to think she'd gone back on her word. Her gaze narrowed for a moment and she looked back to the woman to study her as she spoke.

Nym captured her lower in her teeth and chewed gently for a moment.. Telling strangers her name was bad enough, she was never permitted to in the past, and she certainly couldn't tell her story. She could make one up, she supposed, but nothing was coming to mind and there was a slight feeling of trepidation overcoming her and her pulse hastened.

Then she felt warmth and let out a soft gasp of bewilderment, her eyes moving between the woman's hands and face..It was pleasant, and Nym sighed quietly and a warm smile broke her expression of uncertainty.. "My name is Nymeasha.. Nym, is fine..". She didn't know why she'd felt so at ease with the woman, but somehow she knew she could trust her. Nym's father was no longer alive, and perhaps Gerra had been right about her cutting strings and letting go..even if it was just a little at a time. She decided first, to stop fearing the punishment for breaking his rules, when he was no longer here to ensure that they were followed.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Some apprehension lingered in the woman. Was the prospect of being here all night troubling her? No... it was not being here, it was being away from somewhere else. She needed Nym to be at ease, and was glad that her magic had managed to soften the edges of her expression somewhat.

Kiia gave the gentlest of squeezes to Nym's arm as she revealed her name. She repeated it, feeling it on her tongue. "That is a very beautiful name; it could almost be Abtati." Her eyes thinned as her cheeks rose pleasantly, and she released Nym's arm. Some Kaliti would take great offense at being compared to the Sand Elves, but Kiia did not think her guest was one of these people. On the contrary, perhaps she would enjoy the sense of community that similar names could bring.

"Well, Nym, I am very glad you came to me tonight." The incense smoke swirled slowly against the ceiling. In combination with the glittering crystals and candles, and the lush botanicals, it almost gave the illusion of being underwater. "Abtatu's wind guides all things. You were meant to be here."

She returned to her bowl of curry and began to eat. It was still quite warm, and the flavors stimulated her senses. As the pair had their meal, she told Nym how she had come to Ragash, how she had walked the sands for a hundred years before making her way back west. She asked Nymeasha if she had been to certain places, seen certain creatures. All of it inconsequential next to her true questions, but she enjoyed this woman, and there was no need to rush.

Finally, her hunger satisfied and her belly warm, she looked at Nym for a long, drawn-out moment. Her pale eyes walked over her, taking in every detail she could. The beauty had been immediately obvious, but while it was very pleasing to look at it was not terribly interesting by itself. What was interesting were the discrepancies. Nym carried herself like royalty, and her face emphatically agreed. However, she was built like a warrior with strong, lean muscles, and Kiia imagined she could twist herself into any number of shapes unlike the normal stiff, brittle women of the Kaliti upper class. Her face, although stunning, had a hardness to it, a protective layer that typically arose through hardship and pain. The hardships of the elite were often less obvious than those of the poor... but they were so much more interesting.

After some silence, she leaned forwards, staring into those jade pools, and casually ran her fingers down the woman's forearm again. "Nymeasha, why did Gerra of Molthal do this to you?"

 

[Nym]

Nym's lips curled into a soft smile at the compliment of her name, and drew her eyes from the woman only to gaze around the room in wonderment as she spoke of Abtatu's guidance and their fated meeting. She wasn't sure that she believed it, but something about the woman made her want to, and she gave in to the sense of serenity her surroundings bestowed upon her.

She helped herself to the meal as they spoke, falling into a state of absorption as she told of her journey here and she tried to wrap her head around how old the elf was and the things and places she'd seen. Nym had been alive for going on twenty years, and it made her feel entirely insignificant, though not solemnly so.

Nym realised just how little of Arethil she had experienced, how little she had seen. She'd been like a well sharpened tool, kept in a box until the use of it arose to then be carefully polished and locked back inside. Her eyes betrayed her despondency each time she answered with no or I have never or what is that? Still, she enjoyed hearing of Kiia's stories and her smile didn't fade, not until her last question.

By this time she'd felt connected enough to the woman to want to answer her, but she hesitated and dropped her gaze, allowing a pregnant silence to hang between speaking again..

"I'm afraid Gerra and myself have some difficulty coming to certain agreements.." she answered and looked up at her, not feeling the need to elaborate on what their disagreements had been. "I said some things that I shouldn't have, the purpose was to anger him and, well I achieved that." she smirked dryly and subconsciously ran her fingertips across her throat.

"I tried to kill him, first time I met him." she admitted entirely out of the blue, aware of the risks that came with speaking of such a thing, but for some reason whether rightly or wrongly she trusted the woman she was speaking to. "I plunged a spike into his chest and left him to drown in the golden pond.." her gaze narrowed, and she searched the woman's face for her reaction.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

She did not deny it. Kiia had expected a moment of distress or even alarm, maybe even anger as a panicked creature lashed out… but there was none of this. Her preparation for the question had been adequate, it seemed, and Nym only hesitated for a short time before answering.

She did not give details, but she told Kiia far more than she may have realized. She had confirmed that she and Gerra had regular contact, intimately close, to the point that she had been able to stab him. The priestess’s eyes had widened at the details of Nym’s attempted murder; even she was unable to conceal her surprise. It seemed the pair had a rather tumultuous relationship, as the fingers across her throat hinted at other acts of violence.

The fact that Nymeasha was still alive was even more intriguing. Assassinations, even if unsuccessful, were surely grounds for death. Gerra must hold this woman in very high esteem if he did not have her killed on the spot. It was well known that the fire giant held a fondness for beautiful women. Could she be so lucky as to be hosting one of his wives?

This was better news that Kiia could have hoped for.

Her eyes narrowed again, but this time they held a mischievous glint. “I knew you were special,” she said with a wry look. “It takes a true spirit to look a god in the eye and spit.” She set the bowls aside and continued speaking.

“Do my words surprise you? I am a servant to the gods, of course, but it is not for me to pass their judgements. You are still alive, so clearly your actions were deemed forgivable, or perhaps even… admirable.” She hummed a quiet laugh.

Her qualms about pressing too deeply were greatly alleviated. Nymeasha had volunteered that she had stabbed the emperor, so no subject seemed to be off limits now. “I am curious, though, if you’ll indulge me. What would drive you, one so spirited, to such recklessness?” She said the last word without judgement. On the contrary, her tone was complimentary. Given the suggested relationship between her and the emperor, she was glad that she’d been given the opportunity to hit back at least once.

 

[Nym]

Nym realised exactly what she had given away and for a moment she wished she could claw the words back out of the air and swallow them. She wasn't sure what had possessed her, and she silently reprimanded herself for being so careless. Her expression told of her anxiety as she stared back at the woman, but they were instantly quelled by Kiia's reaction and Nym's brows rose in surprise.

Yes, her words had obviously surprised her, pleasantly so, and she felt herself ease again. "I doubt they will ever be forgivable..." she laughed under her breath.

Nye sighed deeply at her next question. Another hurdle. Another risk..

"Well, my name is Nymeasha Soleiman.. You, may have heard of my father." she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to hide the shame in her eyes. Her father had been a tyrant king well known for his maltreatment of his people, and she was his blade.

"After Gerra took Salitra and my father fell, my family and I were brought here against our wishes to be held political prisoners inside the palace. As I hope you'll understand, the families of the usurped do not generally meet any sort of happy end. I feared for my life and wanted my freedom, and I took the chance."

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia's face radiated sympathy as Nymeasha told her sad story. Amol-Kalit, until recently, had been little more than city states and warlords. She had indeed heard of Nym's father, and while many rulers of the desert had been harsh, he had been particularly ruthless. But a child should not be blamed for the sins of a parent, and Kiia was glad that Gerra had not executed the family of his enemy. It was further proof, in her eyes, that he may be a true candidate for a prophet.

She moved closer to the woman and gently cupped her cheek in her hand. Nym's skin had the softness and radiance of youth, it was tragic how quickly this faded from humans. "We do many things out of fear, you cannot be blamed for this. You are favored by Abtatu, this is clear, if Gerra saw fit to spare your life. I am glad that he did... I see the shapeless one has further plans for you."

She gazed again into those jade pools, and her face took on a rather different expression. "And... it would be such a shame to lose such beauty," she lingered on Nym's face before letting her eyes glance quickly at the rest of her. She withdrew her hand from the woman's face, choosing instead to let it rest on her knee.

"So... what will you do with your second chance at life?"

 

[Nym]

Nym's brow knit, a look of pensiveness on her features as she nodded at Kiia's words and she found herself leaning in to the warm, succouring touch of her hand. She didn't know if she was favoured by the Gods, but she couldn't deny that Gerra had saw fit to spare her life. "He did.." she answered, but she couldn't wash the disdain from her voice. Nym had inherited her father's paranoia, and in her mind he'd only saw fit to grant her her life so that he could take it for himself. He'd expressed his desires for her as it was, and she didn't think the Emperor had taken her scornful rejection very well.

A soft smile met her eyes, though when she watched Kiia's expression change, so did Nym's. She took it as a warning, a gentle one, and she let her gaze fall to her hands as she laced her fingers together and let her thumbs fidget as she thought on her words.

"The same thing I done with the first chance... As I am told." she looked up with a soft frown. Her life was as much her own now as it had been before her father's demise.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Nym’s words were sad, defeated, and almost broken. It would be difficult for most people to see, but Kiia was quite used to it. A necessary part of being a pillar of support for a community. Most of these people were destitute, however, and rarely was someone of such rank afflicted like this.

In spite of the dour words, Kiia's smile only widened. "I see. Were you told to strike the emperor? Or perhaps ordered to come to me tonight?" She had a teasing sparkle in her eye, and she squeezed Nym's knee playfully. "Service, to the gods or otherwise, is a noble calling. But you have shown quite the ability to go beyond that."

She leaned in closer, and the scent of desert plants and perfumes were strong in her hair. "What do you want, Nymeasha Soleiman?"

 

[Nym]

Nymeasha laughed under her breath that the woman's teasing but she took her meaning and gave a small shrug.. "I suppose not." she answered quietly. As the sand elf leaned closer, Nym did too, as though the woman was about to tell her something highly secretive. But the woman's words cast a look of stupefaction across her face for a moment and all she could do was stare.

She'd never been asked that before, and she didn't know how to answer it. She tried. "I.." and failed, and looked down as though the answer might be hidden in her palms. The first thing that came to her mind caused her skin to warm slightly, and she instantly felt foolish and tried to push it aside, but she'd seen Uvogin's face all the same..

"I want to belong. To be wanted.. Not needed for something just. Wanted." she lifted her eyes to the woman with a look of doubt. "But I cannot say that I deserve such things..."

 

[Kiia Sidra]

Kiia kept her eyes on Nym as she spoke. They peered through the girl, absorbing every minute movement of her face, every hint of emotion that passed. The blush, and the talk of being wanted. Kiia knew what that was. She wanted acceptance, love, affection... the base desires of being mortal.

"We all deserve these things," she said. The fire had begun to die down, its crackling subsiding and leaving glowing embers in its wake. "None of us truly wish to be alone. It is natural to feel as you do. To want companionship..." hey eyes flicked up and down Nym's face, "...love."

She straitened up again, withdrawing her face from being just a breath away from Nym. "The Emperor could not offer you this?" She was certain that the emperor had indeed "wanted" Nymeasha. Given what she knew of Kaliti men in general, her guest had almost certainly captured the desires of scores of them, or at least would have if they had been allowed to see her. She had even caused a stirring in Kiia's own heart when she walked in, but she knew this was not entirely what the girl had meant. Such desires were not comforting in the least if they were not returned.

She wished to know more of this woman's relationship to the throne, to pick at the details and determine how best to use them. Lost souls were her specialty, and she was confident she could turn Nym's situation to her advantage.

 

[Nym]

Nym's disagreement was clear in her eyes. She didn't deserve it, but it didn't mean she didn't want it. Her brow furrowed a little deeper at the word 'love' however and she couldn't help but laugh under her breath.. Nym had never once saw or experienced love, her parents had never expressed it for each other or for her, the soldiers she'd grown up with had never known it, Gerra had his ornamental wives and lustful desires and had she been a traditional Princess she'd have been married off to the highest bidder. Love was a foolish notion, and Nym wasn't a fool.

"Companionship, perhaps, for as long as he chose before discarding me.. Love, no. But none can, and I have no desire to feed Gerra's lust." she sneered slightly and dropped her gaze. "That was not the sort of want that I meant. Vizier Medja seems to hold value in me.. She's certainly kinder to me than my father ever was. She offered me a choice when she gave me my freedom, and I chose to stay.." her head tilted. "I am unsure yet as to whether the choice was wise or not..."

 

[Kiia Sidra]

If Nymeasha were paying attention, she would see the briefest of flashes in Kiia's eyes. Vizier Medja, was it? Now this was interesting. The pieces were not all there, but Kiia felt she could put at least part of the puzzle together.

The Emperor had not killed Nym, but neither had he fully accepted her after her attempted murder. He could not be blamed for that. It seemed that this other vizier was integral in this affair as well... it might explain why Nym was indeed still alive. Who was this new woman that had the power to free a would-be assassin? Kiia found it very odd that she had not heard of her earlier, and it only spoke to Medja's cunning.

Of course, there was no way to know if her assumptions were correct, not yet, but she had at least gained some knowledge. She quickly adapted to this new thread of conversation. "Such is the burden of choices, we will never know what else might have been. But that makes it all the more interesting, don't you think?" She gathered up the bowls and placed them beside a small basin near the wall. "For instance, who knows what may have transpired had you not chosen to come here tonight?"

She returned to the rugs and took her seat again, smoothing the silks she wore with her tattooed hands. "Vizier Medja must have made quite the enticing offer, though."

 

[Nym]

She did catch that flash in the woman's eyes, and her brow furrowed briefly, uncertain if she'd imagined it or not.. She didn't think she had. Perhaps Nym had said too much. She wasn't accustomed to speaking to people much, she'd been used to keeping her mouth shut and doing her job, and for a brief moment a look of panic widened in her gaze. Kiia's comment didn't help, it wasn't a question but Nym knew that it was and she wanted more details, details that Nym couldn't give her.

She let out a quiet huff of a laugh and smiled at the elven woman.. "She's a generous woman. She offered me a home and safety, and I wasn't safe to return to my old one.." It wasn't a lie, and really all she had omitted was her own part in that bargain. "I'd like to speak with her, about hiring you, I'd like it if you came to work for her..." Nym told her warmly, in a way that said she was clearly used to getting what she wanted, and she reached her hand to take hers, fingertips stroking over the tattoos with curiosity. "I need as much kindness around me as I can get..." she laughed under her breath.

 

[Kiia Sidra]

In Kiia's heart she felt victory. The warm sensation of success filled her, and she tried not to let too much of it show. She allowed some happiness to break through her mask, a genuine appreciation for the consideration, and the offer. She had been looking for a way into the palace, and it seemed she had found one.

She allowed Nym to take her hand, watched her guest's fingers trace over hers. She could offer Nym kindness, if that is what she wanted. She could offer this Medja her services... in a way. The possibilities for her in Ragash had just been expanded, but Kiia knew she still needed to exercise caution. Viziers and officials would have a more severe view of new arrivals than the poor and desperate commoners.

"That is a very enticing offer. Thank you, I should very much like to meet the vizier. She sounds like a very capable woman." She looked over Nym from head to toe again, and realized that despite all of the bits and pieces she had gathered, she didn't really know the woman very well. She had snuck out in darkness, yet did not wish to flee her captors. She spoke ill of the emperor, but not of his servants. It could be explained away as a fear of the unknown, that a life of certainty was preferable to one of chance, even if it were near one's foes. Somehow, this explanation did not completely satisfy her curiosity.

"There is only one minor detail that I fear needs explaining," she continued, turning her hand gently to fit more intimately with Nym's. "I would be happy to offer my wisdom and services to Vizier Medja and your people, but I serve only the gods. Ultimately, I must answer to them, and them alone."

She softened her expression, letting her eyes crinkle in a warmer smile that spread up from her lips. "But I see no reason why this should stop me from working with you." Certainly this Medja could understand her position. She pushed another minute ounce of lifeforce from her fingers into Nym, just enough to cause a pleasant tingle.