Date: March 8, 1999
Place: Throne Room, Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven
Cast: Duayr, Hepzibah, Jaihyn, Khalid (I/III), Khalil, Nasri, Rani, Zuhayr
Scene: Khalid Atar passes judgment on Madame Rani Rajan for her crimes of treason and blasphemy, though he allows the former shechah the dignity of choosing her own punishment.

The gates to the throne room open slowly, making not a sound upon their old hinges. A contingent of eight Agni-Haidar file through the great arch, eyes warily looking to either side of them, as well as four Akhund walking at the corners of their arrangement. All centered on one, small figure in fiery saffron. Madame Rajan is perhaps, for the first time appearing her true age. Her sari remains intact though dirty in places, the hem frayed. Her black hair is entirely undone and falls behind her and over her shoulders to the floor, the bold streak of silver accentuated now by more grays peppered throughout. She walks in a rheumatic way, though retaining a straight enough posture and head held up....

A quartet of warriors of the Clan of Messala appear, dressed in finery as befits an appearance at court. They surround a tall Varati girl whose hands have been bound behind her back. The girl is without a veil and her thick curly black hair hangs about her shoulders. A metal collar has been shaped into an unblemished circle around Nasri's throat and there is a chain attached to it, a chain which leads into the hands of one of the guards.

Duayr is among that rather large arrangement of guards and Akhund. He may be a touch out of place, for he's not of the Agni-Haidar or the Akhund, but his position among them is just as important in the particular case. He is a bit apart, but his eyes keep close on Rani.

The grand hall has fewer courtiers than normal, and a majority of them are of the Atarvani, rather than the usual kshatri. Intermixed with the usual attendants are the black and silver royal guard. Agni-Haidar stand at attention at pillars and exits, wielding deadly bows and crossbows. As a counterpoint to the death guard are the red-robed and armed Akhund. They look just as serious and intent as their non-magically inclined compatriots.

High on the dais, seated on his marble throne, is Khalid Atar. He watches the procession enter his throne room with studied dispassion. Black wings are already unfurled, spread open wide so as to cloak his seat in shadow. Blue eyes, fiery and intense, focus on one in particular as she enters. The fallen.

Zuhayr walks with that contingent of Agni-Haidar that surround Madame Rajan, one of the eight. He, like all the rest, bow deeply, though none takes his attention off the woman entirely, and none prostrate themselves as they normally might. It is their hope, as it is Zuhayr's, that the god-king will be lenient and understand.

Khalil brings up the rear to the guards that surround Rani. He is as just intent upon watching her as is everyone else. Looking quite alert and grim, he fits right in with the others, another face among the crowds.

As the escorts stop some distance from the dais, they all bow, as Zuhayr does, not fully. The Varati matron without hesitation and if by rote does as well, moving into a curtsey appropriate for the Varati royal court. Her golden eyes remain upon the floor in front of her, as one hand idly attempts to put all of her scattered, floor-length hair behind her shoulders after she bows.

Nasri's eyes dart around the chamber, taking in the assembled warriors and priests, and settle upon the figure on the throne. As if she could not look at the figure seated there. She sucks in a breath and whispers, "Nightwing." This is the source of Khalil's devotion. His wings capture her gaze and hold it as certainly as they suck in the very light itself, but after a moment or two she tears herself away and looks over at the tight knot of Agni-Haidar and Atarvani that surround Rani. "Saiy'ya akbara--" The chain's purpose is demonstrated as the girl tries to leave her protective circle -- with a clanking noise, she is yanked back within. Without missing a beat and barely turning, the girl glances over her shoulder and plants the ball of her right foot squarely in the throat of the man with the chain. He gurgles and staggers back, letting the chain slip through his fingers. Nasri moves, but not towards Rani; instead, whippet-quick and graceful despite the fact that her arms are bound, she slips through the gap made by the gasping man and bows low to the God-King. It is a bow of great respect: she takes her eyes off of Khalid as she bows, making herself vulnerable to him. And vulnerable to the throne room guards, who at the flurry of motion are surely about to fill her with bolts and arrows.

Hepzibah is one of those gathered here, amethyst eyes bearing witness. She remains apart, a small island of crimson near a set of doors. It is with regret that she looks upon Rani, the fingers of one dusky hand moving to touch her opposite wrist.

The Messala guards surge forward as one to recapture their charge. Their faces are pale and like stone.

Duayr drops into a practiced bow with the rest of the group, but doesn't let his concentration waver off of Rani -- though his efforts may not be quite as important now that they are in the room with Atar.

A flurry of motion, Nasri, that might leave some men gasping and gaping, but not the men of the Agni-Haidar. Yes, as one those by the doors step forward, arrows nocked and bolts trained on Nasri, bowing or not. Two more of the big men shoulder their bows, and cross toward the girl with purposeful strides, taking her by an arm each. The men of Clan Messala are given baleful glances and then the girl herself earns the weight of those unflinching regards. Try it again.

No smile touches Khalid's lips, nor are his eyes filled with humor. Grim, serious and perhaps a little sad, the God-King regards Rani with something akin to pity, something akin to fury. Opening his mouth, as if to speak, he closes it once more as Nasri steps forward. A hand is raised, to ward off any immediate death blows against the errant girl. Turning his regard on the second prisoner, he says quietly, "If you value your life, you shall not do such a thing again. My men will react on instinct borne out of dozens of years of daily hardship. Even my will cannot stop them once they are set in motion; they are like one of the fundamental laws of reality." With his other hand, he makes a sweeping gesture for the court to rise.

The Messala men withdraw after bowing deeply, but not to the Agni-Haidar: it is to Khalid, of course, to whom they pay their respects. Nasri goes taut in the grasp of the Agni-Haidar but she does not struggle: she looks first at Rani, eyes widening to see the Madame looking so old, and then she looks up at the God-King of the Varati on his throne, the master of these warriors whom she knows to be so formidable. She bows her head, respecting his word, for this is his territory that she is in. Her eyes seek out Rani's diminished form once again.

As Rajan straightens from her bow and watches Nasri's gesture of defiance, she mouths to her bond-servant to calm herself. But looks immediately to the Amir-al when he speaks, her expression matching only his pity and a plea for mercy. Otherwise, she attempts to hold her chin up to the God-King and await his words. Her hands fold in front of her and she idly plays with her marriage band upon her finger. The circlet of gold that was upon her head is gone, reported melted by herself in her idleness.

The tension goes out of Nasri as she sees Rani's silent command. She simply stands now, quiet, waiting.

"You, Rani Rajan, have been accused of treason and blasphemy against myself and the Varati Kingdom. You have turned your back upon the Varati Kingdom and its people. You have renounced your duties to the Atarvani and to their cause. You have threatened myself and my people in various forms, and have treated the candala better than you have your own kind. You make Haven your home and sever your ties to the heartland, claiming we have no authority over you. And finally, you are accused of striking a Seraskier of the Agni-Haidar with the gifts my father granted you at birth. How do you plead?" These accusations are leveled on Rani as Khalid turns his attention once more towards the one-time high-ranking Shechah of the Atarvani.

Duayr's face is set in an impassive pose as he listens Khalid read out the accusations, his eyes drifting between the God King and Rani, waiting for the plea.

It is with only a partial interest that he listens to the God-King. Important as it is, his job is to guard Madame Rajan, her plea and her fate is not within his hands. So with vigilance, Khalil goes about his task.

The accusations fall on the head of the venerable woman calmly. She has heard all of them before, sometimes with spittle thrown against her feet or even the backhand of that selfsame Seraskier she is accused of striking. She takes a deep breath and is silent for a few minutes after the question is asked. Her voice is a husky, contralto ... and most here have heard it before. The sultry voice which even in old age betokened a harmonic beauty. "What accusations are laid against me, Amir-al, I accept if they come from Your mouth. The Varati turned their backs on me, so I did the same. The Atarvani mocked me, so I did the same. Never have I treated my people with any less respect and care than I have for any other person whom I have met who was in need." She pauses, her golden eyes falling to the floor and her brows furrowing in thought, "And no Seraskier is with honor who would strike a noble-born woman without cause. I dealt him humiliation as punishment for it is what he deserved." She looks up to her god again, "I plead therefore guilty of these things which you level against me, but innocent of the evil which they suggest."

Hepzibah tilts her chin downward and lowers her gaze, but her jewel-like orbs glance up from beneath her lashes to look upon the Agni-Haidar who stand vigil over the accused. She studies one of them for a heartbeat long than the rest before her eyes settle upon the floor.

Zuhayr has gone, once more, immobile, pillar of steadfast duty that he represents as one of the chosen guard of the Amir-al. Life is betrayed by the twitching of muscle at his jaw.

Blue eyes flare, angrily, hinting at the rage within the heart of the God-King. "You speak eloquently on your behalf, but you twist the truths as if they were clay within your hands. No, this is not the truth of the matter. You left the Atarvani, when none may leave. I allowed this in a fit of momentary weakness, born out of fondness for you and your Clan at the time. I allowed your grief to overrule your reason, with the hopes you would soon return to the righteous." Speaking softly, but with a deadly calm, he continues, "But you fell. And continued to fall. You befriended candala and have spoken ill of me and to me on numerous occasions. Are these not your own words: 'When the Rajan fortune, still greater than your own, stops feeding your coffers ... when Varati merchants find trade impossible within this city ... and when citizens of Haven begin denouncing you, Khalid Atar, we shall see how weak my blade is.' I remember them well, for your treason is burned into my mind." Finally, he says, "My Seraskiers can only be called to task by myself. If my chosen have acted inappropriately, your only recourse would have been to ask for my judgment. But you chose to act on your own, as if your word and power were equal to mine."

The brows of the servant girl knit faintly in consternation. Again, she looks from Rani to God-King and back again, and she finds the figure of Khalil in Rani's escort. She studies him, confused.

A look of sadness crosses her old features as Khalid quotes her own words back to her, those damning words spoken in haste. She looks to the ground, some of her hair falling over her shoulder, "How does the Faithful explain to their God their Faith when their God cannot understand what Faith is? He does not live the life of the Faithful." She raises her head, but her golden eyes fall somewhere near the God-King's feet. "I am not blameless for the actions I have committed in my long life, Amir-al, and I live with their misfortunes every day. My words to you were spoken not to the God but to the King who would betray a believer's faith with his own actions. To the God, I am true." She looks away again, "I am guilty of betraying my people's trust. Punish me for that, if you will."

"You are guilty of more than that, Rani Rajan. You are also guilty of blasphemy. Once more, I quote these words to you. I am ancient and immortal creature. My memory is not as faulty as your own: 'You, Amir-al, are the Flame ... the embodiment and incarnation of Her. The Flame itself, in its purity, is the divine which my soul is bound to, but as you are Her, and She is you, then I must obey the will of Khalid Atar. I was forced to do away with you as King, my Lord ... it is the process of faith which I have attained so that you may remain in my heart a God.'" Quoting Rani's own words, the God-King speaks with terrible wrath, "This is blasphemy and many times have I heard it. You once before also told me that no longer did you worship me, but that you worshipped 'flame.' You, who had served me for decades, turned your back upon me to serve... fire? As if fire or flames had compassion, care or even thought. No fire cares for humanity. Only I. Only a god. The elements are not divine and to say so is to speak blasphemy in its most base form. There is no distinction between my Godhood and my Kingship. I am both now and for eternity, until I deem to return to the heavens and leave this world to my heir."

Duayr's impassive expression contorts a touch as Khalid quotes Rani's words, his eyes darting back towards the aging woman.

"And in my heart, you are worshipped Amir-al...." The once-Shechah speaks quietly looking at the God-King's feet. "You give to me the words which prove that I am devoted to you..." Her golden eyes rise to look into his blue with an expression of sorrow and loss. "By asking me to devote myself to a throne, I am forced to abandon the unfortunate whom I have aided in faith to you. What God would ask that from any mother whose adopted children she would be forced to abandon to return to service to the Throne. Again. I am true to my God, and so I am true to You who are the Flame which burns in my soul." Her voice falters a bit at the end, weariness taken hold for a moment before she takes a breath and falls silent again, looking down at the floor again.

"You speak lies and deceptions. Your own words condemn you now. 'What God?' Myself. My word. What I desire is law and reality. You are a mortal woman, so young to the world, yet you deem yourself knowledgeable to understand why I ask something or order another thing. The Atarvani have been taught from the earliest of ages to follow my will as I ordain it. You, however, have twisted this will to your own personal desires. You have corrupted my teachings. And you have spoken blasphemy as if it were a truth to be worshipped." Shaking his head, indicating his true sorrow at the situation, Khalid levels his gaze on Duayr and asks quietly, "What do you say, Imam? I would have your thoughts before I decide on the fate of this one."

Nasri goes pale. It is Khalid she studies next, as if trying to divine the key to the whole sordid mess by finding some critical element within his features.

Duayr turns his complete attention upon Khalid, giving a deep bow before making any reply. "Before the accusations were spoken this night, I thought the condemned might still be true. But the truths spoken here this eve..." He lets his eyes leave Khalid for a moment to gaze upon Rani, shaking his head a little, returning to the God-King. "I see no fault in your words." Not that he'd ever see fault, but on a brighter occasion he may make a suggestion.

If Madame Rajan listens to the man, she makes no note of it. She looks if anything, along with her weariness in age, resigned. Her golden eyes, now dull, look upon the floor and await the God-King to speak next.

"Spoken from my Imam, who is known for his merciful nature and more liberal views, you have been condemned. For if Duayr can see no worth in you, no other can." Khalid's voice is so utterly grim and dark; they equal the shadows crafted by his grand and ebon wings. "For years I have waited for your return. For years, I had hoped for better. I hope no longer. I send you back to my father to be crafted anew; to give you another chance to redeem yourself."

What? What? What does that mean, coming from this God-King of her shield-brother -- his father? Who is that? Nasri's confusion, however, does not spare her an understanding of the tone of Khalid's voice. She looks over at Rani and stills the tension of her body, settling into the semi-relaxed state of someone preparing to do battle.

Hepzibah lowers her chin and her eyes study a point just before her toes. This she cannot witness. Firmly, her eyes remain fixed upon the floor and a tiny tremor causes her veil to shiver in echo of it.

She nods. Mostly to herself .... then after a long moment she raises her head and looks up to Khalid, "Two things I might ask of you, Amir-al, as token if naught else to the years of service I gave to you in my youth and in memory of my husband and lord." Rani looks near tears, but she has wept all the tears in the world long ago, so her eyes remain dry.

"I will consider your requests." No more. Nothing else said. Khalid Atar rises from his throne as black wings strike outwards, then fold closely against his back. His fiery blue eyes hold their regard of Rani as he steps down the dais.

Nasri's eyes are fixed upon Rani. Honor demands she place herself between the God-King and the proprietress of the Pantheon. The Agni-Haidar's grip upon her is firm. She lets out a slow breath and sinks even further into the state of readiness, when all there is is action and there is no fear or thought of the future, only of the now.

Duayr takes a small step back and keeps his eyes towards Rani, hands folded carefully in front of her person.

Rani takes a breath, preparing herself. She looks down and removes the wedding band from her finger, its star-sapphire such a beautiful match to the god's eyes. "The first is pardon for the young Nasri...." She looks away from the God-King and turns her golden eyes lovingly on the woman, "She is not guilty of the crimes that I have committed and which you have laid claim against me. As blood-bound to me, she acted in highest love, and so her actions against should be laid at my feet. Please, offer her mercy and my ring as a token of the love I hold for her, and do not punish the devotion she showed to me." Her tone suggests that she is really speaking to Nasri, as she holds out the ring to the nearest to her, Khalil.

Khalil looks at the Amir-al, Nasri and then back at Rani before he reaches out to take the ring from Madame Rajan.

"Your words and plea shall be considered in due course," promises Khalid. "As long as she is not my enemy, she shall not die. This much I shall grant." The God-King descends the last step of the dais and immediately four of the Agni-Haidar fall into position around their immortal liege. Another two of the Akhund also move into position near him. Motioning towards the exit, he states, "We shall continue in the courtyard. Your execution will be less terrible than that of the Abassid, swift and merciful all things considered, but it will be public."

I am still bound. Nasri thinks. She waits.

Rani's brows arch. She looks relieved at his words and gives Nasri a look of farewell if nothing else. "Peace, Nasri ..." Her last token of love to the young woman before she looks back to the Amir-al and takes two steps forward and comes to her knees in front of Khalid, "My last request, Amir-al, is that you allow me to claim Jhor." Her hands clasp in front of her in supplication, "Please grant this ... allow me to show you my devotion to you?"

Duayr's dark brows arch a little at the request, wetting his lips but making no comment. He waits to follow near Rani when they exit.

The first to react, of course, are the Agni-Haidar. Falcares are drawn smoothly as Rani nears their liege, but are set at ease as Khalid speaks, "Hold." As much at ease as they ever are. "What form of Jhor would you choose?" He arches a slender black eyebrow in question. He seems uneasy to allow this, but at least entertains the idea. "Speak of it more with me outside." With that, he motions to the exit and withdraws.

Khalid, Duayr, Rani, and Nasri move through the grand doors that lead back into the entrance foyer.

[Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven]

Rani and Khalil step out of the embassy and join you in the courtyard.

Rani's brows may arch, but Nasri's knit again. Farewell? Peace? None of it matters. The honor-bond is more important than life, for it is a joining of souls in obligation. All she is aware of is the grip of the Agni-Haidar, for it is this grip she must overcome. They lead her out, following the procession, and she does not struggle. Yet. Damnable collar.

Hepzibah steps out of the embassy and joins you in the courtyard.

Rani is led out, this time supported much more than before as her mind races with the path she has chosen for herself. As all emerge into the courtyard, she is placed again before the Amir-al, all taken places similar to in the throne room...

Duayr shifts along near Rani as she exits, eyes not leaving the older woman, taking up a similar position as he had inside.

Taking up a position in the center of the courtyard, the black-winged deity faces the condemned and speaks, "I will hear your final petition now. What is your manner of choosing for Jhor? I had planned to execute you by those fires you so loved, yet if you have end that I believe is fitting, I may honor it." Ebon feathers are rustled a bit by the spring breeze, but Khalid's features are otherwise impassive.

The accused woman replies softly, straightening her back as she speaks, her golden eyes attempting to look into the blue of her god's, "Grant me to the boon of fulfilling that deed which I was asked to fulfill when my lord and husband, Ashur was taken from me. Grant me the freedom to immolate myself in Jhor ... atone for the sins I have committed against you, my God, and to show you if at all possible that I retained my devotion to you through the years." She hesitates, then sighs, looking down, "Allow me to be consumed... in the fires which your divinity granted me as a gift."

Duayr can't contain his shiver at those words, holding his expression very still.

"Hm. Very well." Khalid acknowledges the request with a single nod, and speaks to Duayr. "Release her from your powers, Imam. If she attempts any folly, I shall know it and contain her magic myself. Or strike her down." The God-King's blue eyes are steadily focused on the one-time Shechah of the Atarvani. He murmurs, "Let it be known that your fate is a kind one in comparison to that of most traitors and blasphemers."

No. Wait. What? Nasri stares at Rani. How can she protect Rani from herself? "Say'ya -- say'ya akbara -- what is it -- say'ya Rani?" Her voice is tinged with an accent both sibilant and musical, as if a stream of snakes were burbling merrily through a course of water-worn stones.

Duayr doesn't make any move, but gives a single nod toward Khalid.

That brings her some strength. She straightens and her head raises, how long the power has sustained her life, how long she has lived in his flames. Its denial was the worse shame that was given her. She turns towards Nasri as she speaks, "Nasri, I watch over you ... you are say'ya to yourself. My last command to you is to live and not regret." She then turns to look at Khalid, "You are merciful, Amir-al. My heart is yours." With her strength back, she says it with conviction.

Freedom. Nasri finds that she doesn't want it. Not at this price. Her fingers curl up into a fist. Why? She tries to understand the baffling conversation, to puzzle out why what is being done and what is being said conflict with what she thought she knew, both about Rani and about Khalid. Who is truthful? Who is honorable? And now it really matters, now that the bond is no longer there -- no longer there! -- to shield her from having to make such decisions on her own. "No," she whispers. Her body tenses against the Agni-Haidars' hold on her: she is stronger than she looks.

"Mercy is one of the surahs, Rani. I grant it when possible." Khalid's eyes are large and deep as they study the fallen. There is sadness tinged with anger in those fiery blue orbs. "I can honestly say I am sorry this has come to this; your Clan shall not suffer the dishonor that you have brought upon yourself. I hope your next incarnation brings you more wisdom. May Ashur Masad and Ushas be merciful on your soul." He lapses into an almost melancholic silence as he waits for Rani to take her life.

Hepzibah hovers by the doors to the embassy, half-watching in morbid fascination.

Duayr takes a single step backwards and stands to watch Rani's final moments. Some regret seeps into his features as he folds his hands carefully behind his back, eyes blinking too calmly.

The Agni-Haidar surrounding Rani also take a step back, to allow her flames to burn as they will.

Opening her heart to the Flame, it fills her. And at the point where she was trained to dam its flow for fear of being consumed, she releases the flood gates and brings in the power. Those with the power can feel it like a vacuum falling into the Varati matron, sucking the energy into her soul. Her golden eyes look at the Khalid, speaking his last words with a look of gratitude and love. That look most likely last given when she served at his side decades ago. Then the power fills her to overflowing and her eyes glow with an inner fire, her skin radiating an intense heat.

The heat bakes against her, the light is blinding. Nasri watches it with wide eyes. Rani burns herself! The girl struggles in vain.

A clap of deafening sound, as the power reaches its peak and her hair suddenly catches flame, followed by her sari ... the fire begins to roar about her, so that she is lost to sight, a pillar of fire brightening the courtyard with its golden light.

Duayr's body quivers at the sheer amount of energy being drawn upon, eyes opening wide, the pillar of flame reflected into them.

The fire then reaches up towards the sky, a thin tendril of flame which continues to roar as it consumes flesh, bone and soul. Soon, the roaring dies, the flames begin small, spidery webs of fire reaching up to the sky, barely visible, until they, too, are extinguished and a circle of blackness is left upon the stones where Rani Rajan stood, all consumed and lost.

The concubine near the doors turns her head away and shudders, garments rustling with it. Her shoulders tense and she half-embraces herself until the sounds have ended.

Nasri goes slack in the arms of the dread warriors whose hands are on her. The fire dies, and something goes out of Nasri's eyes as well.

Khalil does not watch Rani or the flames that consume her, but instead his eyes are upon Nasri as he watches her with only a half-hidden sadness. The ring held within his hand bites against his flesh as he closes his hand around it.

Standing of the wake of the flames, Khalid Atar watches the column of fire with rapt attention. Though the fires lick at his form, standing so close as he is, neither he nor his clothing are touched by the furious inferno. Long moment pass as the God-King studies the ebb and flow of that terrible power brought upon herself by Rani.

GAME: In the center of the courtyard of Atesh-Gah, a pillar of fire briefly lights the sky, flaring to life abruptly, then dying away to a few tendrils of smoke before disappearing altogether.

Nasri's shadow and those of her captors, having gained such life in the immolation of Rani, shrink back down. She was close enough to feel pain from the flame, and to smell everything. Her nostrils still yell with the scent of the quick burn. Spots ring in her eyes; she cannot see the God-King in his place across from the black spot on the stones.

Shrouded in the smoke that was once the form of Rani, Khalid waits until the flames have fully died out. Then veiled blue eyes search the courtyard, searching for Nasri's figure. "Come forward, girl. Your mistress is dead. I would know of you now and decide your fate." His tone is utterly emotionless and so very quiet. Black wings are half-raised, as if some sort of black cloak to be worn.

Duayr shakes his head a little, pulling his body out of the semi-trance state while watching the burning. His words are quiet. "Such devotion to call upon so much power -- a true feat, sadly misplaced." He wets his lips, dry from the heat, watching Nasri now.

The Agni-Haidar release her and she takes a stumbling step forward. She cannot see the God-King nor can she smell him. But she knows where his voice is. Her feet do not cross into the circle of black: before she reaches it she comes to a halt, head bowed. "Say'd akbara, Nightwing," Nasri says, and the fingers of her left hand curl reflexively around the metal band about her throat. The bond is dead and she still lives -- whatever is she to do now? She feels numb.

Arching an eyebrow, Khalid says slowly, "You words are odd. You speak of things I have not heard for centuries." He questions, "Who are you, girl, and where do you hail from? You are not from my varas, are you?" His fiery blue eyes narrow as he speaks, "You have the appearance of my people, but you are different."

Nasri looks up slowly. The light catches her eyes and for half a heartbeat they glow a deep and eerie green. Then the moment passes and they are only brown again. "I am Nasri of the Clan of Avishrasa, saiy'd." Her voice is quiet. "I am not from the your lands of the West. I am of the Two Tribes." Her eyes meet his and she looks deep, trying to understand someone -- something -- that she has no hope of comprehending. But he is Khalil's god, and she has seen Khalil's soul, and knows it to be good. So... must not this one be good as well? But Rani...

Nasri looks into the eyes of the God-King and thinks, 'This is the source of goodness in Khalil's soul... but how?' There is no anger. Just incomprehension and the deep and abiding need to understand.

"Their existence lingers in my memory." Khalid's lips cut a sharp, tight line, then speaks further, "I have not heard of them for centuries. It is pleasing to see another of their kind, despite the circumstances." Inclining his chin, in acknowledgment of Nasri's statements, he queries, "So why have you violated my domain?"

Nasri dips her head. "I apologize for the violation of your territory, saiy'd akbara. My father owed a debt of honor to Madam Rajan; I am -- I... was -- the repayment of that debt. Because she had not told me not to protect her, I came here to find out what she wished of me. I was not allowed to speak with her, so I refused to leave. I could not leave without knowing. Your Pasha defeated me and kept me prisoner, but in truth I could not leave without knowing the madame's will."

"I see." Khalid accepts Nasri's words and allows himself a few moments of thought on the matter, before replying, "Entering my domain, without my leave no matter what the circumstances are, is usually punished harshly. In addition, you had bonded yourself to one who broke her own life and honor bonds to me. A dishonorable woman, who was once great, but who had fallen far." His mouth twists into a scowl, before continuing, "Battling my Pashas is also a grave offense."

Nasri waits quietly and does not interrupt.

"I would have you respond to these remarks before speaking further myself," prompts Khalid.

Hepzibah studies the scene for a few moments longer, eyes drifting from the Neverending Fire to Nasri and then to the face of Khalil.

Nasri dips her head again. "I will accept whatever punishment you give for invading your territory; I had no choice but that is not your burden, it is mine. I did not bond myself to her, it is a family bond, but I was honored to uphold it. I mean no disrespect, but her honor towards you and the West is not as important to the family than what she did for my family, which was to place herself in danger to safe my father's life when she did not have to. And I battled your Pasha to uphold my bond to Madame Rani; once again, that is a burden placed upon me by my bond and I will accept whatever punishment you give because of it."

"Do you expect me, then, to honor your bonds to her when you show a lack of respect or care for the life-bonds her family has had to my own for centuries? The bonds she was committed to upon her entrance of the Atarvani? The lies she has spoken against me and the threats she has leveled against my people?" Khalid's voice rises a notch in his ire as he responds, "I show as much respect to others as they may show respect to me. You show remarkable lack of foresight and consideration by speaking in such a manner." He continues quietly, "I have no desire to punish you. This is not why I speak. I am displeased that you would act in such a way, however."

"I do not expect you to honor my bond, saiy'd. The bond is gone. I did not, and do not, know of her bond to you." Nasri lowers her eyes, watching the ground. "If I insult you, it is done without intention; I have only begun to learn the ways of the West. I... know... that you are a lord of honor. I do not understand what you have done... but I trust that it was done out of honor and I do not dispute it. Rani chose her way." The last is said as a whisper.

Jaihyn passes between the heavy stone pillars that flank the entrance to Atesh-Gah, and joins you in the courtyard.

Khalil's hand around the ring he holds tightens even more until it seems he might crush it. But luckily he is not so strong. He listens with renewed intensity to the conversation between the Amir-al and Nasri, though he keeps emotion from his face.

Jaihyn wanders in from a couple of crazy nights comforting a friend who thankfully did find her brother after all. He starts nodding pleasantly to everyone in the courtyard, even Khalil for once, and then notices the other Personage present and immediately drops down to one knee, head bowed down, "My Lord," he murmurs.

Ebon wings whip out and upwards, extending to their full, impressive length, as Khalid interrogates Nasri. "I see." His voice is quiet and has become more calm. "My people have laws. Rani violated them. All born to the heartland are answerable to these laws, despite where they may live, for the laws are alive in the soul and in the heart. Not in the place of residence. She had honors and commitments to myself and my people. She violated these and disgraced me. And disgraced her family. And disgraced her people. She understood this in the end and hence has taken her own life. I accepted this, out of compassion." Khalid's eyes search Nasri's face for long moments, then finally speaks, "You did what you did out of ignorance and in honor of Rani's last request, so I shall be lenient. Instead of death, for such a violation, I ask this of you -- do you feel that you owe me a debt for this invasion of my territory and this battle with my Pasha?"

For the moment, the God-King does not appear to have noticed the arrival of Jaihyn. However, several of the Agni-Haidar and Akhund certainly do...

Nasri is taken aback by the words, much less the sudden arcing of those wings cut out of the heart of night itself. "Ah... ah... yes, saiy'd," she stammers. "I do."

With another Agni-Haidar, Khalil steps forward to flank the kneeling Jaihyn. In silence they reach down to take hold of his arms. They do not wish to disturb the Amir-al and so try to gently take him away. Followed also by Akhund, to control Jaihyn it is in grim silence that they move.

"Then as punishment, I shall accept a bond from you in repayment for these wrongs until I feel you have properly accounted for your prior actions." Khalid speaks quietly and directs his attention to Nasri, though he catches the actions of the Agni-Haidar and Akhund out of the corner of his eye.

Jaihyn blinks and looks up, "What?" he says, tightening his muscles to resist. He certainly isn't going to let a bunch of crazy Lions drag him out of the presence of the Amir-Al without paying his respects to Him. Of course, he has no idea why they are taking him up either.

Quietly, his somewhat question is answered. "Jaihyn of the Atarvani, you are placed under arrest for treason against Khalid Atar, the Amir-al, your God-king. You are to be taken to a cell and there you will wait ."

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Almost literally. Nasri's eyes dart from the otherworldly figure before her to the spot on the stone between them and then over to the form of the Agni-Haidar warrior she calls her brother, Khalil. Only a fool would give in to such an open-ended agreement. Knowledge of Rani and Khalil's devotion wars inside her. "I...as..." She takes a step back and slowly lowers herself to her knees. "Saiy'd, I will..." Nasri sucks in a breath. Tun. "There..." But her actions precluded him from the beginning. But "saiy'd, I have a mate. If I do this thing, will he be allowed to stay with me?" She keeps her head bowed.

Jaihyn stares, "Excuse me?" he says in total, complete surprise. "Did you say treason?" he blinks in confusion again, his surprise making him go slack and almost weak in the knees. "I would never..." and trails off, the whole idea of it making him speechless.

"Who is this mate? If he is not an enemy of my people, I shall allow it," agrees Khalid. He casts a sidelong glance to watch the disturbance for but a brief moment, before turning his fiery blue gaze upon Nasri once more. "And I accept this pledge."

Nasri bows her head. "Until you have decided I have atoned, I am yours, He Whose Wings are Carved of Night." And, "he is Tun Saphand, and he is no enemy of you or the West, saiy'd."

Khalil shakes his head, "That is not for me to decide. We have orders to place you under arrest. Please come with us quietly."

"I am called Khalid Atar. The Divine Flame of Heaven. God-King of the Varati Kingdom. These titles you should learn; for though I do not take dishonor from the titles you have placed upon me, they are not our people's chosen titles. You must learn of our ways." Khalid lowers his chin in final acceptance of these words as he states, "Very well. Tun Saphand shall be allowed within Atesh-Gah and shall be your responsibility, Nasri Avishrasa of the Two Tribes." Signifying his agreement on the arrangement, there is a sudden spark against the metal of the collar before it falls free from the woman's neck.

Jaihyn snorts a little but, still dazed, allows himself to be taken away.

Nasri starts at the sudden heat at her neck. The collar falls away and she gasps, hands flying to the skin that is abraded despite the metal's looseness. She bows again, struggling not to change for the sheer freedom of being able to change after so long. "Yes, Khalid Atar. I will learn." A drop of silver falls from her eyes and mixes with the smudge of blackness before her that was once a woman named Rani, who for all her dishonor to her person was kind to the girl who came through a year of traveling alone to be slave to someone she did not know. She feels like a traitor, even though the forms have been obeyed.

"This is all. You may go now. You shall speak with the Seneschal about living arrangements within Atesh-Gah for you and your mate." Khalid makes his pronouncement and then turns to leave. He casts only a single glance in the direction of the departing Jaihyn and his expression is impossible to read.

FIN  

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