Featuring: Aziz, Celomenda, Delmari, Ester, Jyoti, Kedar, Maat, Nura, Rajni, Rei, Varad, Zeyd
Date: June 21, 2004
IC Date: February 6, 3930
Summary: After news reaches Irha-Esh that Khalid and his Maharani are departing for a period of rebirth, the Varati faithful gather to celebrate with a festival.
Announcement: Before the fall of dusk, almost all of the lights in Irha-Esh flicker out in preparation for the beginning of the Festival. The flame at the Temple and the flame in the statue of Khalid's hand remain, as do faint speckling of lanterns strewn about all levels of the city. Varati begin to gather at either the Temple or the Adn'Jannat to await the arrival of the Atarvani.
Adn'Jannat - Irha-Esh
Known as Adn'Jannat, this large park at the heart of Irha-Esh is lush with greenery and lawns while trellises built into the walls allow vines and flowers to burst over the edges, dripping and twining towards the ground. Tiled and cobblestone paths wind through the park, creating smaller areas for a variety of activities.Formal dance, music, and theatrical performances can often be found in the nearby pavilion, while more spontaneous performances can often be caught on the various lawns. Children are often found playing about the park while scholars often meet on the lawns for philosophical and religious debates, or even the occasional game of chess. Off to one side of the park, surrounded by colorful tiles and exotic flowers is a round, burbling fountain
Built back into the rock of the bluff is an elegantly designed museum to the Amir-Al, its doors open to all races. Easily missed at the eastern end of the park is the entrance to the Ushasti Temple, situated to take advantage of the rising sun over the ocean. To the northwest, a path leads out of the park and back towards the Qajar District while discretely to the south is a set of stairs leading down to the Shudra District.
*---------------------------< In Character Time >--------------------------*
Time of day: Night (Dawnside)
Date on Aether: Monday, February 6, 3930
Year on Earth: 1530 A.D.
Phase of the Moon: Waxing Gibbous
Season: Waning Winter
Weather: Snow
Temperature: Freezing
*--------------------------------------------------------------------------*
At the request of the Atarvani, all lamps and lanterns in the city have been doused by sunset. The only light comes from the mysterious Burzhi lanterns strung all about the city, casting their glow down upon the darkening streets. A somber procession has begun from the Temple, led by the Imam and followed by the Akhund, Mufti, and Atman. Any may join behind the priests as they process to the Pavilion in the Adn'Jannat. The Atarvani cluster about as the Imam steps onto the podium, waiting for the murmurs of the priests and the others in the area to ebb.
Among those following in the wake of the red-robed Atarvani are at least two bearing the silver, purple, and red colors of clan alam'Zulyat, though these two in particular do not follow the priests' overly closely in the procession. One is a broad-shouldered young Varati man, his head held high, while the other, Nura, keeps her eyes down as she follows her brother in silence. As the Atarvani gather around the podium, these two find a place to stand well before they would reach the podium themselves.
Zeyd is a procession of one, and a slightly uneven one at that. An earthenware bottle in his one good hand, he weaves into the back of the gathering crowd, well away from the pavilion and its reverend occupants. The expression on the massive figure's face is one of 'assisted' good cheer.
Just one of many who trail in a sea of bright festival clothing and expectant faces, Jyoti walks along the outside of the river of people. The girl's eyes are glittering with her excitement, the mood of celebration being a difficult one to resist. When the park is reached, and the line begins to dissolve, spreading out into a less organized crowd, she remains on the periphery. Gliding steps lead her near enough the podium to hear what the Imam will say, and she waits with bowed head.
Rajni and the Burzhi contingent fall in behind the Atarvani. It's only natural that they attend, after all. Who else would the Atarvani call if the lanterns should suddenly go out? Rajni walks among them, her gaze in constant motion as she watches people and takes in the decorations.
Looking remarkably comfortable in nothing but her shirt and breeches on such a cold evening, Rei slips into the park from the south. Though not exactly wary, the dark Atlantean still keeps to the fringes of the crowds, aiming an idly curious gaze towards the goings-on by the Pavilion.
Maat circumspectly arrives among a gaggle of her clan members. Other clan members filter in separately, the group as a whole too large to travel as one. Maat moves toward the podium, choosing a spot that is neither too close to bring attention to herself nor too distant to prevent her from hearing well.
Delmari drifts into the park, keeping along the edges of the crowd, her neck craned slightly to get a better view of the procession. The pale Atlantean woman also keeps her distance, just observing, cool blue eyes intent with curiosity.
Kedar enters the park from the artisan's area.
The light of the lanterns flicker on the Imam's spectacles as he lifts his eyes to address those gathered, Varati and candala alike.
"We have come upon a miraculous era. In our lifetime, we will be able to witness something no other still living has; we are to be witness to the Amir-Al reborn." He has no notes to shuffle, no cards to remind him of his place in his speech. "Visions were sent to those sensitive to them of this event...even the candala seers bore witness. Such an event is not to be taken lightly by any race; certainly there are candala who will see this as an opportunity to strike against our people. But we know that it is not so. We know, as our histories tell us and as we can feel, standing here tonight, that this event merely brings us closer together. It unites us and strengthens us until He returns, stronger and more powerful than when he left."
Folded hands are pressed close to her heart and Jyoti listens with focused attention. Wide, unquestioning eyes remain intent upon the Imam as he addresses the great crowd. Only briefly does her gaze shift away -- flicking at those closest to the girl, settling briefly upon their faces to see their reactions to this speech.
Zeyd's dark eye twinkles with, deep, fierce mirth, and his ill-favored lips contort with repressed laughter. Still, the giant does manage to hold his tongue, although a long, high-hefted pull at his bottle may help in this regard.
Nura lifts her eyes upward as the Imam speaks, his words evoking a faint smile visible behind the woman's thin veil. She otherwise stands unmoving and silent, as does her brother.
Rajni draws Asha, a young boy of the Burzhi, back against her with her hands at his shoulders. She bends to murmur something in his ear. The result is that the boy nods eagerly and turns his attention to the podium, instead of fidgeting and bouncing up and down on his toes.
Aziz directs his clansmen, musicians all, discreetly into the marked places around park. He and his fellows are all solemn as they listen to the words. Other entertainers wait by his side, all of their eyes look to where the Imam address them.
Compared to various animated Varati faces around her, Rei looks rather... well, unmoved, by the Imam's words. Just what to expect from a candala. Still curious, though; with a raising of eyebrows, she moves over to a nearby tree and leans casually back against its trunk while she waits for what's next to come.
Flying in on wings slightly stunted when compared to an Empyreans, Celomenda lands atop one of the walls that rings the park. Though it's not easy to be unobtrusive with wings when you fly into a crowded area, she hopes the darkness will at least keep her somewhat unnoticed. There's curiosity on the halfbreed's face, but she is a touch hesitant about joining in.
Maat's bulky figure is impassive, but then decorated cloth has hardly any emotions. On the other hands, her golden eyes are wide, almost burgeoning with emotion or tears as a bit of liquid appears to shine within their depths.
Flanking the crowd and standing strong and proud outside of the lantern light are the Agni-Haidar warriors. A line of twenty-four Lions of Fire guard the festival, dressed up in polished armor and spotless black uniform, their blades sharpened and their bows drawn. While the younger ones among them are deeply moved by the occasion of the event and the upraising words of the Imam, the more experiences warriors do not let their attention be divided from the crowd. Vigilantly gazing upon the spectators, they try to spot any signs of trouble, sense any omen of danger, to quell it before it may unfold. The solemn guard remain silent, their motions precisely measured, their formation ever shifting to move with the movement of the crowd, without raising attention to themselves.
Delmari keeps to the perimeter of the crowd, that curious, but detached expression lingering on her features as she observes the production. She listens closely enough to the Imam's words, but they certainly don't have the impact on her that the Varati seem to get from them. She continues to watch and listen, silently, taking the spectacle in.
The Imam pauses, looking out at those gathered, "The Amir-Al is leaving his throne in Masada. Within the week, we shall see Him and the Queen-Maharani flying overhead, bidding us farewell. But He is not leaving us forever. As the histories have shown and as we know to be true, He -will- return to us. It may not be soon. It may not be within our lifetimes, but He will return reborn and rejuvenated." He then casts what seems to be a slight smile to those congregated, "This is not a time of mourning. As the sacred Phoenix, He will die and be reborn from His own ashes and return to us to take His seat upon the Throne once again."
Is that a slight glint in his eye or a trick of the dim light, "But now is our opportunity to send the Amir-Al and the Queen Maharani off with a celebration worthy of them. We may be a City among candala, but we remain faithful and devout." He then raises both hands, almost in a gesture of benediction, and closes his eyes.
"Holy Amir-Al, Khalid-Atar, our God and King. We celebrate your rebirth. We promise to hold true to your teaching and guidance in your absence and to rejoice upon your return. Your Fire and Light shall not leave us, and will only increase hundredfold upon your return. In your name, we dedicate this Holy festival." His eyes remain closed as he pauses, ending the benediction. But he is not quite finished.
"Let the celebrations begin!" is said and at the last syllable, his hands turn on his wrist and every light and lantern in the city ignites at once and fireworks begin to paint the sky.
Celomenda starts as the fireworks go off. Despite herself, the halfbreed girl makes a soft 'ooh' sound and turns her face up to watch the bright display as it paints the sky. A quirky little grin crosses her mouth and she settles down to a more comfortable seat upon the wall she perches.
Maat lifts her hands up to the sky, the jewels decorating her fingers and wrist glowing in the reflected light of the fireworks. Her hands are a thief's dream, shimmering with the wealth of a dozen caravans. Her fingers stretch, causing their rings to flicker like fireflies, up toward the sky, as if to catch a bit of heavenly flame.
Music roars up as the words the entertainers have been waiting for are finally said. From their marked places throughout the plaza come the same celebratory melody - vinas and flutes and percussion. Acrobats tumble and run through the crowd holding silk red and orange streamers on poles so they ripple behind them.
Nura closes her eyes and lifts her head at Varad's declaration to begin the celebration, and lets out a wordless cheer. The first of the fireworks igniting in the sky causes her to open her eyes and her smile to brighten noticeably.
The Burzhi bow their heads for the benediction, Rajni among them, but then the lights are lit and the fireworks are off, and some among them raise their voices in high-pitched, trilling cries of adulation. There's back slapping and shoulder clapping and a few of the women crash together in an embrace.
Zeyd lifts hook and bottle both to the night sky, giving a great shout of his own as the park is engulfed in light and sound. There is joy in the deep-throated cry, but it is a bleak, severe joy-- the agitation of an army before its charge.
It takes a bit longer until the true meaning of the words dawns upon those warriors who have dedicated their life to the service of Khalid. Only now, they realize that they will soon be on their own and that their God-King will no longer walk among them. And even though they have heard of this event from history countless times, sadness, despair and sometimes even fear crosses the hardened, tough faces of the Agni-Haidar. They all know that this is a time of testing for them, a time where they must hold together stronger than in any other time. A time where they may be the hunted, not the hunters. No amount of fireworks can lift them from the emptiness so many of them feel in their heart right now. And yet they must uphold their duty, protect the festival and watch out for the menace that may lurk around every corner.
Rei, too, starts slightly at all the sudden lights and sounds, and it isn't long before she has to abandon her comfy leaning position by the tree again-- it's a bit hard to see all the fireworks through its branches, after all. Face tilted upwardly, the Atlantean watches the skies with a vague smile curving her lips.
Delmari turns her face skyward along with most of the rest of the crowd, watching as the fireworks explode above her. Her eyes quickly travel back down, though, to the illuminated city outside the park. The sudden flaring of the lights seems to impress her as much as the explosions in the sky. Her blue eyes widen a bit, as if attempting to drink it all in. Most impressive.
Not only does the music start with the fireworks and the lights, but a feast is unveiled, with mulled and honey-wine, warm cider, and madya flowing like water. Some impulsive Varati begin dancing off to the sidelines to the music, while dried flower blossoms are blown into the chilly winter night. Fresh were difficult to come by, but there may be a few, expensively purchased for the occasion.
The Imam's duty is over until the end of the celebration, for the most part. It takes him another moment or two to open his eyes but he does so in time to watch the celebrants. It is all good then. Of course, he does have to take a hold of a pillar of the gazebo as a wave of dizziness hits him. But it will pass. Igniting every light in the city so that they do not catch anything on fire and igniting fireworks simultaneously is not an easy task, even for him. But it seemed appropriate.
Kedar stares bleakly into the crowd, fixating his eyes on some imaginary point somewhere between the fireworks and acrobats. He understands the meaning of the Imam's declaration, rationally, but he cannot fully comprehend it. Throughout his life, the belief in the Eternal Flame has been a guiding light for his soul, his actions, his belief and his honor. Now, his life works, duty and dedication are in question, and for the first time in his life, he knows not whether he will fulfill the trial asked of him. Silently, his strong arm bulges as he clenches his hand around the lion pommel of his falcare, grasping it so hard that the pointy edges are driven into his skin. But neither conjured, bright fireworks nor the pain on his flesh can drive away the darkness and despair in his heart.
On a platform that seemed to rise from nothing perform three fire-dancers. Two men and one women, looking to be scantily clothed, but it is really just a clever design. Strength moves combined with twirling batons of fire help portray the story of the phoenix.
Nura is among those who begin dancing, though only once she notices that others have already begun doing so. She moves away from her brother's side, while the young man himself takes sight of the unveiled food and drink and fixes his attention there. Nura finds a small group of other single kshatri women nearby, joining into their revelry - yet despite her smile and her skilled step, her attention seems to be elsewhere, somewhere distant.
Asha races off with a few other children, chasing after the tumblers and performing their own somersaults as they run behind. Rajni turns to share a few animated words with another man of the clan, then she bows and takes her leave, winding her way toward the podium.
Zeyd knocks back the last of his liquor, then hurls the kiln-fired vessel full-force to shatter at the feet of a few nearby revelers; one man stumbles in surprise, but the general festivity is such that the moment is swiftly lost. Chuckling heartily, now, the big man shoves off through the crowd.
Less graceful than some and less joyous than others, Jyoti is simply one amongst many in the throng. Having retreated to the ranks of those kshatri maidens who are expressing their devotion in dance, the daughter of al'Sirat steps with them, and lifts slender hands towards the sky with them, and spins in flares of perfumed silks with them. But unlike them, her eyes are not bright with smiles or tears. When the first dance ends and another begins, the girl slips from the ranks of dancers and towards the edge of the park, where the crowd is less concentrated.
A glass of madya is pressed into the Imam's hand and he tosses back nearly all of it, needing a burst of strength after this. Most of the other Atarvani move to mingle with the others, partaking in the dancing and the feast or merely enjoying the company of the large crowd. Some stand near the musicians and dancers, watching the fire and the story unfolding. Some, especially Akhund, move to stand near the Agni-Haidar, to offer counsel or comfort in their proximity. But the Imam merely watches, his expression almost as neutral as any Atlantean's.
Delmari makes her way straight over to the feast, plucking up a glass of madya for herself and taking a quick sip. She watches the dancers as she drinks, but makes no move to join them. For the moment, the Atlantean woman seems content to continue to simply observe.
Maat moves through the crowds, dodging pass weeping Varati, dancing Varati, drunk Varati, and the odd candala to find a location vending food and drink.
Rajni is caught up in another dancing group before she reaches her destination, but she doesn't protest. Rather, she joins in cheerfully and hops and claps and skips with the rest.
Rei looks back down as the fireworks come to an end, and though the woman smiles wider at the sight of a few tumblers that run past, she pulls further back, away from the park and the center of the festivities. Perhaps all the emotions in the air are overloading her senses.
Rei steps into the archway leading down to the Shudra District.
Aziz finishes the first, long set and sets his vina aside. He wipes his forehead with a cloth and looks around at the crowd. The sight of all the different peoples here warms his blood. Smiling and greeting people as they pass comes more easily as the celebration gears up. He expects little sleep for himself or members of his clan for many nights to come.
A couple of Varati bring some baskets and reach in, tossing candied fruit and hard candies for the children to catch. It creates a large jumble of laughing, giggling children in the snow, trying to catch the confections before they fall into the snow. It doesn't stop them, for it is only snow...it is just cold.
Nura steps away from the dancers after only a short while, once her attention comes back to the here-and-now. She quickly scans around her immediate area, with people laughing, singing, dancing, and merry-making all about, but it isn't until she catches sight of Jyoti that Nura moves toward the edge of the park after her.
Zeyd is after a cup of honeyed wine, and it isn't long before he shoulders his way to the board. Selecting a healthily-sized draught, he lets his blue-pale eye wander briefly to the Atarvani still diffused about the pavilion. With another jagged smile, and a little shake of the head, the hulking male seeks the fringes of revelry once more.
Jyoti winds her way closer to the performers, keeping to the edges and thus ensuring rather slow progress. Finally she reaches the musicians and is thus able to offer a greeting to the man she recognizes amongst them. When he pauses to survey the crowd, she creeps forward to speak, not wishing to interrupt. "Imphadi Aziz, namaste. It is a joy to see you again... and to hear your music." Her eyes crinkle with a smile for the performer, and she seems unaware of any pursuit.
Maat obtains something. The exact identity of her liquid is difficult to discern as it immediately disappears within the folds of her clothing like her hands, to the distress of a thief that had been following the woman. The unfortunate thief is bumped by a reveler while pouting the disappearance of Maat's wealthy hands.
The few Agni-Haidar standing close to the Akhunds nod quietly to the words of comfort offered to them. While the Atarvani may have been warned, the elite guard of the Khalid Atar is hit cold by the announcement of the disappearance of the deity they are supposed to protect. Kedar just walks up and down the side of the festival morosely, pushing overzealous, happy or drunk people simply out of the way without any second thought. He wants to be alone, or among those he can trust, but not stuck in a crowd full of rejoicing, dancing people who throw a party at the vanishing of his God-King. And even though he knows that the Atarvani did this on purpose and had only the best intentions, he finds the whole spectacle downright sickening.
One of the Atarvani mingling in the crowd is the young woman born into clan Temjin and true to her nature, she listens quietly to the announcement of Khalid Atar's disappearance. Like Kedar, Ester doesn't visibly rejoice as she merely looks around the place, observing the reactions of those around her.
"Namaste, Imphada!" Aziz greets Jyoti warmly. "This is a much better time to meet, yes? Do you feel all the energy here?" He looks around before giving her another blinding smile and a quick bow. "I am pleased you enjoy our music. We of Nor have worked hard the past week to prepare for such an occasion. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Bespectacled eyes catch the movement of the Kaimakam and the Imam actually moves off of the podium to try and intercept the Agni-Haidar. "Imphadi, walk with me." It's not really a request. It can be denied, of course, but he hopes that it may help the temper the man seems to be in. The reveling actually cheers the Atarvani himself...for it shows that they will not be brought down by this news. But he can understand that there may be confusion.
Delmari finishes her madya in several long drinks, knocking the liquor back easily. She quickly replaces it with a glass of honey-wine, sipping this drink more slowly as she works her way back into the celebration. She soon drifts toward the edges of it again, eventually slipping out of the park completely. She's seen what she came to see.
The drink remains within the confines of her clothing as does her hands, but Maat's feet return to action. She walks over to inspect the fruits of her clan's labor, the riddle tree with its paper leaves and to see if any revelers have attempted the riddles.
In following Jyoti's path about the outskirts of the festivities, Nura slows upon seeing the other woman stopping and speaking to Aziz. Seeing Jyoti's smile brings Nura's own smile back, and rather than continue her casual "pursuit," she turns to take account again of the festivities as they are seen from this area of the park.
Jyoti clasps her hands together and presses them to her heart, bowing slightly to Aziz when he returns her greeting. "It is good to see most happy rather than mourning," she allows quietly, her own smile dimming somewhat at the reminder of what this Festival stands for. "But it is evident how much work you have put into this event, and good to see so many enjoying it. I am not used to such crowds myself but it is... exciting."
Even though Kedar may easily refuse the request, mutter something about having to do his duty, somebody to talk to might just be exactly what he needs right now. Silently, the officer nods, but averts Varad's gaze, trying hard to not look at the priest. Yet at such close sight, a tear in the corner of his eyes can be spotted. Without any word, the shorter man falls into the stride at Varad's side, his usually curt, precise manner much more uncontrolled, loose at this moment.
There is a bit of silence between the two, for Varad is waiting to see if Kedar speaks first. But after a good few minutes he offers, "This is something the Amir-Al must do, Kaimakam." It must be hard for the Agni-Haidar to have heard his speech. "We cannot hold him back from what he desires...from what he -must- do in order to remain strong."
"Pah," comes Aziz' response. "Imphada - this is nothing! Imagine what it must be in Masada." He has a sharp memory, this performer. Chuckling, he looks around. "You should enjoy yourself. Joy comes in parcels not often delivered. But when they come..." His eyes twinkle and a musician behind him makes a sweeping note that makes them all laugh.
Maat paces away from the riddle tree after inspecting its leaves. She wanders. To the average reveler, it would seem that her path is random, but it takes her ever closer to the Imam and Kedar.
Kedar bites hard on his underlip, trying to suppress the frustration he feels. Keeping his head lowered, he mutters deeply in the anguish of a defeated lion. "I know that. None of us is to hold him back. It is his path." Another long moment of silence passes between the two, drowned in the cheering, laughing and singing of the festival. It takes far more strength than most fights Kedar has fought to let him speak again. "But where does that leave us?"
Infectious, that laughter. Jyoti joins in, though at a softer pitch than the free spirited performers. "In Masada, I knew only the market crowds and they are very different from this sort," she counters once the ripple of amused sound has faded. She turns just enough to regard those who are openly enjoying the festivities, head tipped to one side and smile relighting at seeing a pack of children dashing by. Her gaze follows that pack as they run past Nura, causing a lifting of her hand to hail the older woman. "Am I keeping you from your music, Imphadi? I did not think..."
Varad has to consider for a moment before he can respond, "I suppose, for some, it leaves them a little lost and a little confused. For others, it leaves them elated and hopeful, awaiting the days until the Amir-Al returns. For others yet, it leave them stronger, knowing that they must maintain their way of life, the Surahs, and all that they know now for when the Amir-Al -does- return." No smiles touch his eyes or his lips, "I confess that I was concerned when I first had the dream that foretold this. We, especially, are in a precarious position here, with the Empyreans so close. But we have not been left entirely powerless. Nor has Masada."
As that group of children runs past her, Nura gazes after them, smiling wistfully. She almost misses Jyoti's wave in staring after the young ones, but glances toward the younger woman a moment later. Nura lifts her hand into the air in acknowledgment, then touching those fingertips to her forehead, lips, and heart in silence.
Maat reaches Kedar and Varad. She does not interrupt the conversation, but merely waits to be noticed, giving both a brief bow, all that is allowed in the crowded area.
Aziz bows his head at Jyoti. "We rest at intervals. Some of this music was designed long ago for these celebrations." His voice dips. "They can be quite strenuous to perform, so we take turns performing. One piece, called the "Escalade" is to be played for two hours." The men and one woman behind him groan - their least favorite piece. "Now that the opening ceremonies are complete, each group will have breaks. But do not let me keep you. Did you see the fire dancers?"
Rajni makes her way to the serving tables eventually, but not alone. She leads old Yusuf, the blind craftsman of Burzhi, to the table, and presses a cup of madya into his hand before she chooses something for herself.
Nura is beckoned closer before Jyoti returns the majority of her attention to Aziz. "I did, Imphadi, and they are truly impressive! It made me wish I had more skill with the dance but I am woefully clumsy at times," she says, voice inching closer to a laugh again. "That does sound like a challenging piece though. I would like to hear it... but I understand if others will be given precedence." The girl is quite unable to restrain a deeper smile, warm with her sincere amusement as she glances at those who are positioned behind Aziz.
Kedar notices Maat, but doesn't dare to look into her direction. Nor does he acknowledge her presence. He doesn't want a vaisya woman to see him in such a dismal, weakened state. "You know that many of us will not experience the return. As a whole, the Black Guard will survive. But it is also a time our enemies will use." Finally, he looks up at the Imam, a pair of deep brown eyebrows showing the war within his soul. Eyes that, despite all the death, violence, fire and suffering they have seen, have kept an innocence and undoubting loyalty rarely found in such men. But now, they are wavering, flickering like the scenery between glorious fireworks and deep night. "The Black Guard is never powerless. We have our code, our strength, our duty, skill and discipline. But you know as well as I do that it is He and His presence that gives us true power. The will and might to become unbreakable." He swallows, and for all his tough, strong physical appearance, the warrior looks almost fragile. "You should have told us," he whispers.
At Jyoti's beckoning gesture, Nura gives one more glance about - this time to catch sight of her brother in the company of a few women. That done, she turns quietly and approaches where Jyoti speaks with Aziz. "Namaste, imphada, imphadi," she says upon reaching conversational distance, inclining her head slightly as she speaks.
Aziz says "Indeed, Imphada, it is not yet our time. Tomorrow it is likely we will be here playing, if you are willing to brave the cold to hear us." A brazier would be in place then, to keep them all warm. "And if you wish to learn to dance - I am certain Gnetta or another would welcome teaching you." He smiles warmly to Nura when she arrives. "Namaste, Imphada!"
"This one intends no offense, Imphadi, but if her mother was unable to teach her over the course of many years, it is not hopeful that any other might be able to do so." Jyoti bows over her folded hands again, only to straighten just as Nura arrives to join their conversation. "Namaste!" she echoes. "Have you met Imphadi Aziz al'Nor, Imphada? Imphadi, this is Imphada alam'Zulyat, one who has recently gifted this girl with her friendship."
Maat's golden eyes see no matter how much of her body is hidden. She is close to enough to see and hear Kedar, though she must pretend her non-existence otherwise. Yet, social mores do not prevent observance, merely pretense for the sake of Kedar's delicacy.
Rajni leaves Yusuf in good hands and heads off, herself.
Rajni steps back towards the Qajar District.
Aziz bows sharply to Nura. "It is a great pleasure to meet a friend of Imphada al'Sirat. Are you enjoying yourself?" His eyes sweep very quickly over Nura, not meaning insult, but indeed to memorize who she is for a later date.
Nura once more bows her head, as Jyoti offers introductions. "I have not yet had the honor, but I am pleased to now, imphadi al'Nor," she answers Jyoti's question, once again bowing, this time at the waist, folding her hands in a similar manner to Jyoti's. "I am enjoying the festivities thus far, yes. There is much sadness and joy here, and it is good to see that the task of bringing forth joy is in skilled and capable hands."
Varad also notices Maat and offers a slight nod before he returns to the Agni-Haidar, "Why is it different now, Kaimakam, then when the Amir-Al was at Masada and you were here? Is it the security?" He has had to deal with his own issues on this, "Perhaps you should have been told, but my own instructions were to not speak of it unless it was initiated first." The Imam reaches to place a hand on the Lion's shoulder, "We may not see his return, no. But we must keep the Faith and we must keep Him alive in our hearts and mind as well as in those of our children...and our children's children for His return." The Imam stops and looks at the Agni-Haidar, attempting to force the man to look him in the eye, "You are a warrior of Atar, Kaimakam. You are not his houri who will pine from his absence. It is your charge to protect all that He is even if you cannot physically protect His body. -We- are what he is, in his absence," And he gestures to the reveling populace. "Without holding his beliefs, we turn kafir. It is far too easy to do away from his presence, whether that is in Masada or father away. I will not allow that to happen in my lifetime, nor will I allow one of his Agni-Haidar to doubt his duty." Like he has much say.
With the introductions handled and the conversation rolling smoothly on, Jyoti is able to withdraw. Murmuring her excuses -- and with a glance at the sky -- she retreats on tiny, gliding steps. Once a short distance has been placed between herself, and the two she'd been speaking to, she turns and then drifts off through the crowd.
Thick dark brows shoot up at the unexpected departure. It is timed with the lone flute note that tells his musicians that it is now their time to play. "Ah, that is the signal, Imphada. I must return to my duty." Aziz lifts the vina from its stand. "May Atar guide you with his light. Please, stay and enjoy the music."
Nura glances quickly after Jyoti as the younger woman slips away with her soft farewells, quietly nodding to her. To Aziz's farewell, Nura again bows. "Indeed I shall, imphadi," she reassures. "May Atar's warmth aid you in warming the souls of his people." With these farewells spoken, she too turns to return to the crowd, seeking out her brother once again.
Kedar snorts a dark, humorless chuckle. "I do not live my life for the sake of security. I am not a fat woman trusting others to provide her safety. It is the absolute knowledge that he is here." He prods with his knuckles against his chest plate. This time, the Kaimakam does not shy away from the gaze of the Imam. "I have always felt his presence. I still do. It is what I live for. What drives me to victory and glory. But I also know now that it will be gone. And that I may never feel it again. Eventually, yes, he will return. For he has always returned. And I will keep the post and protect his name, his pride and what he stands for." He does not seem to mind the hand on his shoulder, but his muscles ripple as he prepares to stalk off again. "I respect your oath to not tell. But now, I need to deal with this alone. I need to meditate." A wry smile follows. "Thank you for your faith, Imam."
Maat has a brief question for Varad, which she voices once Kedar makes it clear that he intends to depart. Having gained a nod from the Imam, she asks, "The Queen-Maharani goes with our God. Does she, too, need to be renewed? And, does this mean that she, too, will be eternal?"
"I am here, Kaimakam, if you wish to further this discussion...until then, walk in His Light. It is always eternal." The Imam then turns at the Imphada's question and narrows his eyes briefly before managing to regain his composure. "Yes, the Queen-Maharani will be departing with the Amir-Al, and with any luck, she will not return with him." So, it does seem that it is quite possible to be fiercely loyal to the Amir-Al and the Amir-Al alone. And at that, he turns about to head deeper into the revelers...or perhaps to get some more libation.
Maat gives Varad another bow as he turns to leave. "Thank you for that informative answer, Imphadi. I had only hoped that our great God might have indicated more clearly to his faithful and beloved priesthood the status of his equally precious Queen. Alas, it was not meant to be."
The night is still young, and so are the festivities. Kedar's shift is not over, and even if his spirit and mind is overshadowed, his duties still call for his attention. With a silent nod to the Imam, he slides back into the crowd, to make sure that nobody does anything stupid. They'd better not! While not typically a very violent man -- not for an Agni-Haidar anyways -- this is the time when he might just take a chance at letting his true emotions out.
Maat allows the crowd to swallow her now that she has asked her impertinent
question and received its less than satisfactory answer. For all the
revelry and the pathos, Maat seems to remain untouched, except for that
brief shining moment before the fireworks began.
