Date: February 23, 1999
Place: Shakir's Chambers - Atesh-Gah - Haven
Cast: Maya, Shahar
Scene: Who says that Varati women wield no power? Here is a scene between two who have achieved positions of prominence within their respective spheres -- Shahar has become the Shakir of Clan Khalida, while Maya is a liaison from Delphi. But for the latter, at least, the cost was great. She comes to the Shakir with news from the Citadel, and ends up telling more than she had intended -- about her own past and secret shame.

Shakir's Chambers - Atesh-Gah - Haven:
      Subtleties rather than garish expressions of rank and wealth are preferred in the arched, airy climes of the Shakir's quarters. These rooms have been selected for their windows, which are slender and many in number, the gauzy draperies typically open to allow the breeze and sunlight to bathe the suite in serenity. Furniture is minimal and what exists is of Varati make and preference, though decidedly elegant: most noticeable is the desk at which she performs her tasks. Fresh fruit, Akaashi spring water, and delicate sweets are ever in evidence for the visitor's comfort and usage.
      The floor itself is marble, white and glistening with a high polish, though colorful rugs (in Khalida red, blue, and gold) wrought by the renowned Varati weavers cover much of that impressive flooring. Lastly, perhaps in tribute to Shahar's softer side, fresh-cut flowers are dotted about the room in crystalline vases. The overall effect is open, clutter-free, and clean... much like, one imagines, the Shakir's mind.

Maya enters behind a guardsman and nods politely to the man as he bows and then leaves, closing the door behind him. Only then does the Liaison turn her eyes to the rest of the room and its sole occupant. She permits herself the beginnings of a smile and bows her head politely. No bowing of the body this time, but rather a greeting that might pass between equals. "May the Amir-al bless you this day, Shakir."

"And may the winds of heaven, brought by the Atar's wings, be sweet upon your face," murmurs Shahar as she rises, dusting off her attire as though her work were more arduous than dealing with parchment and ink. "What brings you to my door this day?"

Maya says, "Many things, Shakir. Your clan has made many requests of the Citadel of late. I am here to answer those of them that I am able."

Shahar gestures toward the arrangement of pillows near the doors open to the balcony. "Please make yourself comfortable, and we shall speak."

Maya nods once, accepting the offer graciously. She crosses the room, ending up settling into the cushions and looking to Shahar. From her repose, she waits quietly for the Shakir to make herself comfortable as well.

Settling in nearby, legs drawn in a comfortable, yet prim, posture, Shahar does indeed make herself comfortable and gives Maya an assessing gaze. And does not speak, instead waiting and watching, as a lioness may lazily study another feline. Or her prey.

Maya lifts her chin, "There are many things that were demanded of us, of late, Shakir. Are you aware of them?"

"Of course," replies the Shakir, voice like the flow of warmed honey. "I perhaps wonder on which subject you care to begin... is there one that troubles you more than others? One for which you have more information to impart?"

Maya says, "Many trouble me, Shakir. All trouble the peace of Haven, but let us begin with those that are most easily dealt with. The Amir-al has demanded from Delphi information pertaining to the deaths of Emperor Justinius and Princeps Acesian."

Shahar's chin raises slightly; she is not going to counter whatever is the wishes of her God-King. "He endeavors to aid the Empyreans, and their internal strife is troubling. Have you information to impart?"

Maya says, "Does he? Perhaps he might wish to explain that in his next demand." She gives Shahar a neutral look. "Emperor Justinius' death was investigated quite thoroughly and while our Sibyls continue to keep an eye on that matter, enough information was found to point to high officials in the Empyreal government that we ceded authority to them. Any queries for specifics should be directed to them. Likewise, Princeps Acesian's death occurred on Embassy grounds, specifically the Palladium. Just as I am sure the Amir-al would not appreciate the Hounds invading Atesh-Gah without authority, we have not encroached on Empyreal territory. The Praetorian guard has been offered our assistance, of course, but once again the council feels it most wise to allow the Empyreans to deal with this matter internally."

"I see." In those two syllables does Shahar imply a temperature approximating that of the highest peak of the highest mountain at the deadest part of winter. "So the Delphi decline again to lend us assistance where we seek to show camaraderie and concern for others?"

Maya corrects gently, "Delphi asks that you not demand information that you would be just as unwilling for us to pass on to the Empyreans should such situations arise that are reversed in nature. The Empyreal government is the body you should be questioning for information, not ourselves."

Shahar, lips vaguely pursed, feels compelled to note, "Delphi has been approached on a variety of matters, Sibyl, and yet not once has information been imparted to me. Matters that affect Haven, matters that affect the Varati. Always, we are to look elsewhere. Tell me, what is it that the Delphi may say to us? Or are we always to find second and third sources for what the Delphi tell others firsthand?"

Maya's brows arch, "You must ask those that can speak, of course. Should leave be given by the Empyreal government, we would be happy to pass on such information, Shakir. But we are simply not at leave to speak all that we know. We must stay neutral to survive."

"Neutral. Neutral." Shahar languishes over the word, as if the sound pleases her. "We have found the Delphi more neutral to us, if you will, than to others who seek their aid. If this is the path to bridging our differences, to create trust between the Varati and Delphi, it is not the most well-chosen one."

Maya says, "And we have found the Varati less friendly to us than any other nation. No other accuses us of favoritism when we deny what they would prefer not be given to another were the situations reversed." She waves away the thought dismissively and reaches to her side. There, she draws a scroll from a long pouch at her belt and holds it between herself and the Shakir. "This is a report of everything Delphi has been able to discern into the death of the Khaliph, Mehmet. The details are still much obscured, as the Aether is muddied all about the event. As more information is found, Delphi will hand it over in due haste."

Shahar regards the scroll without yet touching it, mildly querying, "If the details are much muddied, Sibyl, what, pray, does the document contain? And is this shared with the Hounds, as it occurred within their jurisdiction? As a blue-eyed man was the assassin, shall the Empyreans know of its contents?"

Maya shrugs, "It contains what it contains, Shakir. If you do not wish this information..." She moves to tuck the scroll back into her pouch.

One long-fingered hand emerges from the silken folds of her sari as Shahar plucks the scroll from the other woman's grasp and places it at her side. "We are grateful, you understand, for your cooperation regarding the assassination of our beloved Khaliph, who, you must understand, is still mourned by our people. Ensuring his murderer and those who paid him are brought to justice and punished for their crimes is... quintessential to the peace of mind of the kingdom."

Maya regards Shahar for a long, silent moment and then nods. "Shakir, it is not only Delphi's concern for this issue, but my own as well. As a Varati, I cannot let it go unanswered. You have my utmost assurance that both Delphi and its Hounds are searching into this matter as one of the highest priority. It may be that as the Aether clears we will be able to find a vital piece of the puzzle that will resolve this heinous crime."

With a sigh, Shahar echoes blandly, "It may be. It may be." Then, shaking her head, the Shakir continues by noting in a lighter tone, "Is the priority of this matter equal with the Delphi as that to, say, the investigation of the Princeps' death?"

Maya spreads her hands, "We have offered assistance to the Empyrean people, but until they accept it, Lysander Acesian's death can have little priority to us. We will, of course, report any visions our Sibyls might have of his death to the Praetorians, but we will not encroach on their sovereignty. However, the Khaliph's death happened within our jurisdiction. Its priority for resolution cannot be but higher than that of any other."

Shahar closes her eyes, fingers steepling before her. "These answers shall I take to the Amir-al, and for your ... information, I thank you. The rest will not be greeted handsomely, but that is not your concern. When I next speak with the Empyreans, I shall ask them what has been asked already of the Delphi, if that better suits your terms of information exchange."

Maya sighs softly, "What does or does not suit myself is irrelevant, Shakir. My honor lies with the Delphic Citadel and the council of the Avatarati. I must do as they bid."

"And what of your people, Imphada?" murmurs the Shakir, the question direct despite its gentle expression.

Maya's gaze is almost pained and does not meet Shahar's, "I am dead to my people, Shakir."

Shahar prompts with a kinder tone of speech than of vision, "And that is why?"

Maya takes a deep breath and manages a smile, "Ah, Shakir. That is a tale I have told no soul." She shakes her head, obviously not about to start now. "I have other news of import to the Varati."

Shahar raises a hand, palm outward. "You are very direct today, Sibyl. Before you venture onward, I would tell you this: there is an inherent difficulty in a Varati who says she is dead to her people representing Delphi to those very people. You should find thicker ice on which to walk. Now... speak on."

Maya looks up very slowly, all light gone from her features and eyes. Her voice is dead, without emotion or life, like something mechanical. "Avatarati Javier Hakan Behzad has signaled his desire to leave the council, no longer able to serve. The Varati people are invited to name another to the council." She rises slowly and bows deeply. "I will see that some other comes to you next time, Shakir." Without leave to do so, she turns and heads towards the door.

The Agni-Haidar on either side of the door stiffen, and Shahar, without moving, calls, "I speak only the truth, Imphada. You have a secret about you. It is the nature of Delphi, to be secretive. I simply indicate that when the secret is from a Varati and withheld from the Varati... your path is not the easiest one. You do not displease me, not at all. And do not mistake my statements for emotions, nor should you withdraw from your duties because of pride."

Maya turns back on one heel. Her bearing and expression is even less than that of stone, with a deep, dark bleakness that seems to suck all light into the black pools of her eyes. "I will see that someone more pleasing to you is sent, Shakir. May the Neverending Fire watch over you."

"Is it the nature of the liaison to assume what may please me or displease me?" Shahar sounds entirely reasonable and sincerely gentle. "Or is it simply that you are uncomfortable dealing with me or the Varati as a whole? Please... be honest?"

A smile touches Maya's lips but it does not light her eyes. "I am what I am, Shakir. My honor rests in bringing Delphi and my," she stumbles over the possessive, "the Varati people into accord again."

Nodding, Shahar replies in a delicate tone, "Well spoken. And a noble wish. Simply... understand it is with frustration that we hear too often from Delphi, 'No.'"

Maya's bearing is of one considering, weighing words and the request at hand. "As a Varati--" and though she seems almost hesitant to claim that, once said, it is said with conviction, "--I understand your frustration. But also as a Varati, I know that I would not wish the inner secrets of our people to be revealed by Delphi at a mere request from another government."

"I respect that, Sibyl," Shahar comments while peering across the distance between the two women. "I simply feel us flailing around to find common ground. Rest assured, it shall be found. Have you other recommendations or information to impart?"

Maya considers and the first spark of expression lights in her face again, a mild thing but an expression nonetheless. Memory. "Ah, yes. We have reports of your trouble with one mongrel known now only as 'The Hand.' It is my next duty to seek out the Atlanteans. Since our information is that he has fled into the lower quarter of Haven, their contacts amongst the docks will be most useful. We expect that with their assistance, that particular matter can be resolved quickly."

Shahar's features relax as this news is shared, and mildly she notes, "This is pleasing indeed. I will hope to hear of the matter's conclusion soon. Have your people been at all involved with the investigation of the Praetorian assault of our Agni-Haidar at the Palladium?"

Maya inclines her head, "The Hounds have been in contact with the Praetorian guardsmen. The attack appears to have been the unsanctioned action of a few hotheads. They are, of course, being disciplined by their own ranks. Further investigation and a possible trial are also in the works. Delphi will not permit such attacks to happen without sanction in the streets of Haven."

"It is the wish of the Varati people that those responsible be shown to us," Shahar notes, a slender black brow uplifted, "but that is under the auspices of our Pasha. I will inform him of your progress, if you like."

Maya nods, "If a Tribune is called to judge, the Varati will most certainly be called to sit upon it. And your offer is kind. I would appreciate that."

Nodding, Shahar says in an even, though appreciative, manner, "When something as grave as an assault on the Atar's Lions is in question, yes, we wish involvement. Rightfully so."

Maya says, "Delphi would not seek to deny you that right, Shakir."

Shahar's full lips form a smile as she affirms, "For which we are grateful. I have been remiss... do you care for refreshment?"

Maya almost starts. "I--It would be a pleasure, Shakir. Thank you."

Crooking her finger toward the servant lingering nearby, Shahar sheds the mantle of official and attains the air of domesticity, a kshatri lady at home in her domicile. "What would you care to take? Wine, water, juice perhaps? Something to eat?"

Tension is slower to leave Maya's body. She still holds herself carefully and correctly in front of the Shakir. "Wine, please. And food only if you will be eating as well."

Shahar chuckles quietly and, as she instructs the naraki to bring morsels to eat along with the wine, gestures toward the table where the refreshments will be brought. Once the girl serving Shahar is gone, the Shakir remarks, "It is past my mealtime... I should eat something before my husband returns from his duties. Please, again make yourself comfortable. We are not so different, you and I."

Maya closes the intervening space slowly. She smiles wistfully, "A lovely thing to say, Shakir. I would that it could be more true. I have missed family and friends for a long time."

Shahar's smile is not dissimilar from Maya's. "You are in a difficult position, are you not? With Delphi and not the Varati? From which Clan do you come?"

Such a simple question. There's no logical reason it should make Maya's hands shake, but they do and she clasps them in front of her. Her voice is clear and carefully even, "I have no clan."

Shahar's rejoinder is simple. "You did."

Maya clears her throat. She gives herself a shake and finally replies evenly, "My husband was... Ibrahar."

Two servants with trays appear and interrupt the conversation and the tension therein, then withdraw as noiselessly as they arrived. Shahar herself presides over the offerings, pouring two fluted glasses -- blue with gold rims -- full of wine. "I had no idea, Imphada. What would you care to eat, by the way? We have cheese, breads, fruit... smoked fish...."

Maya doesn't answer the question at hand. She stares at the tray and finally speaks. Her voice is hoarse and laced with too many memories. "Lilith went to the pyre with her husband." She looks up to Shahar, "This is why I speak as I do."

Shahar pauses, one glass frozen in midair on its way toward the other woman. "Lilith?" she repeats, quizzical and interested in a polite way.

Maya reaches out and takes the glass from Shahar's hand carefully. It no longer trembles. Her eyes rise to meet the gaze of the other woman. "Lilith Yasmin Ibrahar. I demanded that Orman Kai never use that name to my face and he gave it back to me, taking it from his own mind as well. My name is Maya now, for the gift I was given when the flames did not consume me alongside my husband." Her tone may be nearly matter-of-fact, but the weight of her gaze on Shahar speaks the volumes that her voice lacks. This is... was... her secret.

Shahar's mouth forms a softish O, then she takes a minuscule sip of wine, plays a bit with the gilded rim of her goblet, and says simply, "Oh. And this is a matter of shame, dismay, worry, concern for you?"

Maya's voice regains some of its tightness, "I will not dishonor my clan."

"From whence came this gift of yours, hmm?" Shahar asks as she makes herself comfortable.

Maya sips from her glass and finally sinks to the cushions again. Her answer is honest and unwavering, "From the Amir-al, of course, as all such gifts do."

Shahar nods, sounding again as reasonable and rational as can be imagined. "And if your gift comes from the Amir-al, as we know it does, how can you being here dishonor anyone, as it is he whom we love and worship who has honored you, Imphada, with such a divine gift?"

Years of guilt weigh the words Maya speaks, the one thing she's never come to terms with, "I should have gone on with my husband."

Shaking her head, Shahar remonstrates, albeit gently, "You were chosen to go on. You do not question the other decisions of the divine Atar, Imphada, and his decision was that you continue. Bless his name and rejoice, for you are here by his will. And live happy." With that, she raises her glass and salutes the other woman.

Maya's fingertips trace one bead of condensation from the side of her glass before she raises it to her own lips. Healed, she is not. But perhaps there is time to do so now. She nods once. "I had once thought so myself. But... my way has been twisted." She sighs softly, letting it go. "I go on."

Shahar smiles whilst quaffing another mouthful of wine, then selecting a bit of melon from the tray before them. "You seem to hide from the past. To take shame in it. I would embrace it and be proud of what you are. Those who see you for yourself will understand. Others will lack insight; that is not your fault."

Maya lets the dark liquid roll about the sides of her glass with a twist of her wrist. She shakes her head slowly. "I was young." It is not quite all she offers by way of explanation. Looking up with a wry smile, "Once I reveled in the fact of my life. But the longer I have been amongst other people, the less I know my own."

"Then perhaps it is the will of Khalid Atar that you have been chosen as Liaison to us, as you are now among the Varati again." Shahar shrugs, implying lesser beings such as she do not understand how the God-King thinks and feels. "In any event, I wish you peace in the coming days."

Maya finishes the last of her wine and forsaking the food she nods. "Yes. Perhaps that is so. I will have to pray upon the matter and hope the answer is given to me." She bows her head once, respectfully, "Thank you, Shakir."

Shahar rises as well and returns the bow degree for degree. With a gesture toward her guard, she murmurs, "They will see you safely and well to the gates, Imphada. I will delight in hearing from you again."

Maya returns the glass and rises. "May the Neverending Fire warm you and light your way, Shakir." She turns and follows the guard from the room.

FIN  

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