[Ieffreon] "Those Who Don't Build Must Burn" (Valanthia and Co.)

[charybdis]

Oh he most certainly was not supposed to be here, and in every possible sense of the word. There was still a deep storm brewing in those blue gems Titus Parthas called eyes, dark and terrible like a coming hurricane sweeping against the horizon. The infamous temper that fed every taut lineament, sun-beat line, and the heavy scowl that had settled ever so permanently within his thick eyebrows had not dimmed over time. The so-called "peace" that had settled over the Eunesian Isles had infuriated him more, and it seemed now that his olive skin held an ever so prominent and lingering tint of red that brought each and every freckle out with distinction, as if it was just the very thinnest of breadths that was keeping the true nature of his fury at bay.

And, perhaps, it was. He scowled, a powerful thing that seemed to overtake the entirety of his face.

"Doukas."

The title spoken in their native tongue was enough to stir the Olympian scion from his self-created stupor, and he looked up at the retainer who had spoken. Age had only seemed to lengthen the great shadow that Titus Parthas cast, and even now he stood at least a head taller than all of the half-dozen retainers that followed in his shadow. He was dressed in their land's traditional loose robes but they did little to obscure the tightly-wound form underneath said to be crafted by the very ancients themselves, long before the heretical Church of Faith had spread its lies about its false pantheon. This was the history of Olympia in mortal form, and the Parthas lord was every inch the culmination of a millennia's worth of pride.

"You said there was a mainlander princess here," he finally spoke, turning a thin look in the other man's direction. They were walking a decent pace along the Ieffreonian shores, following some small path that appeared to be nothing more than the hint of habitation. "Lyevine?"

"L'Evileiene, kyrio," the attendant replied in return. He shuffled his weight, moving his own loose sleeves around his waist in a particular sort of draping pattern. They were, after all, on enemy soil regardless of whatever peace treaty had been signed. It was clear from the regular looks he and his fellows kept casting over their shoulders to the nearest shadows that none of them had forgotten the weight of their charge, either. He spared one more look before continuing. "A prince, I believe."

"So a man." Titus scoffed.

"No, doukas. The princess was related to the prince. A sister or daughter maybe?" The younger man shrugged.

The Parthas lord spared a quizzical look before glancing ahead of them. "And she's here, living in...well, here." His lips shifted uneasily at the words that remained unspoken. Pausing a moment, he shook his head and then suddenly halted his entire pace. "I'll wait here. Fetch him, her, or whatever."

And so it was that a gentle knock was sounded on the prince/princess Valanthia L'Evienne's Ieffreonian manor's door with a dark-skinned, robed and hooded man standing just outside. Both hands were folded and thrust deeply into the opposite sleeve as he bowed, slowly--though perhaps a bit more shallow than one would expect when greeting a prince/princess. He'd wait, of course, to see if anyone was home, and offer only the ever simple greeting of, "Kyria, he awaits."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

The Valanthia L'Evienne in question had been playing the piano in the front room when the knock on the door came, and strains of the music would likely be floating through the open front windows to greet her guests. She stopped abruptly, and paced over to the door. She wasn't expecting anyone, and the gardener was usually much louder when he knocked.

What greeted the man at the door was a slender, gray-skinned young woman, dressed in a simple black top, a jagged-hemmed black skirt that came down to her knees, and a pink belt. Her complexion could have been the result of any number of elven-human combinations, but her hair, which came down to just past her ears, gave the game away -- it was a pure, shocking white that marked her as half-vysstichi. She was no more than 5'2", and she looked up at her guest with some surprise.

Beside her stood a massive animal -- a white canine of some sort, just about as tall as she was. It neither barked nor moved -- it simply stared at the man at the door.

"Serale?" Val had spent precious little time in Ieffreon before her recent flight here, and didn't know the local language or greeting. She'd bought Coral Shore just to have some place to go on vacation, someplace far away from the prying eyes of Aelyria Prime, or her work in Arakmat. At no point had it occurred to her that both places would immediately be rendered unavailable to her, leaving this as her only remaining refuge.

She could make neither heads nor tails of the man's words, though the bow meant that he probably knew the princess at least by title. "He?" One eyebrow crooked upward as she asked the question.

Regardless of whether the man proffered any further information, Val opened the gate in front of the door, and stepped through. The canine followed her, seemingly without command; it helped that they shared a mental link, though Val doubted that this would be the first thought that would come to the man at the door's mind. With Umbrosus at her side, she didn't feel immediately threatened; she was also armed, with her standard complement of five stilettos strapped to various parts of her body, out of sight, but ready to be deployed if necessary. If someone had forced Val to guess, she would have said that this was probably some kind of local politics thing -- maybe she was supposed to pay taxes on the place? or some kind of census was going on?

Either way, she might as well figure out what this man and his master wanted. She shut the door and the gate behind her, and readied to follow.

 

[charybdis]

The first sight of the woman gave her visitor a bit of a fright. The Eunesian retainer visibly jumped and only managed to belatedly keep his balance by touching his fingertips on the edge of the door frame. He coughed, something faked in an attempt to soothe over the worst of his embarrassment, and then glanced at Valanthia over the corner of the first he had pressed onto his face in a pretended effort to cover his mimicry. The man was about to reply when the next sight of the great white dog standing next to the woman caused him to jump again, and this time, he did truly lose his equilibrium and fell over rather heavily onto his backside.

"Theoi!" he screeched in his native tongue, dragging himself as quickly as he could with his scrambling palms. A bit of distance between himself and the animal was gained. In the process the initial shock had mostly worn off and, given that Umbrosus was seemingly disinterested at the moment at such unsavory things like eating him had managed to restore at least a bit of his wits and senses. "That...what is that?" he finally spoke, opting for a heavily-accented Common speech and a frantic gesture in the direction of the mound of white fur.

The responsibility of his task was settling back into his senses as well, and the man scooted himself back another few inches before gesturing toward the other still waiting no more than a stone's throw away. "Him," the islander repeated. "The Doukas Parthas." Again he coughed, though this time truly having unfortunately inhaled a bit of dust in his scurried escape, and began to right himself as quickly as he could manage to grasp at the lingering shreds of his dignity.

Throughout it all that self-same doukas stood as a statue against the horizon, staring out at the edges where the sky kissed the sea as if pondering the very fabric of the Multiverse itself. He had utterly missed the commotion at the door and, if he had marked any sign of Valanthia's or Umbrosus's approach, he made nary a sound. The man was a tall creature, colored with his eras spent outdoors underneath the Eunesian suns, and weathered with the marks of one who had a habit of grasping every aspect of life with his bare hands and bending it to his will. The fiery shock of red hair on top of his head and across his chin was reminiscent of the very sunsets for which his home isle was famed. His Eunesian-style robes were of quality but had been built for the hardiness of the weave and ease of action, covering a frame that had spent more time in the outdoors world than locked in any manor.

So it was that he still didn't look up, around, or even at Valanthia as she and her companion approached. His other retainers, however, did cast wary, suspicious glances in the half-elf's direction and particularly toward her canine friend, but whatever hilts and weapons their fingers touched in expectation never quite made it out to the light of day. Their lord shrugged and then finally spared his requested guest a sideways look from the corner of his sapphire-colored eyes. "The princess?" he asked, though his tone made it unclear if he truly expected an answer or simply knew it already. "Princess of what now?" He carried the same accent as his fellows but the tone was one of sheer command. They were words spoken that instantly demanded response, and from his own taut posture and toned frame, it was clear that Titus Parthas was the sort of man who did not often wait for others to comply.

"I am Titus Parthas, of Olympia. I was told that you know of things and of people," he said simply.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

It took a fair amount of willpower for Valanthia to suppress a smile, if not outright laughter, at the poor man’s fright. She was, however, able to keep her reaction down to a single raised eyebrow.

”A rare breed,” she answered laconically. ”I got him from…some acquaintances in the Khardran Mountains. He…well, you’re perfectly safe, unless he thinks I’m in danger.”

Having successfully put the fear of the gods into the poor fellow, Val left him be, and strode out to meet the person who actually wanted to see her. Doukas was…if she remembered the research on nobility that she’d done for Milo so long ago…well, some kind of Eunesian title. Maybe this was local politics after all. If she had known he was coming, she would have dressed more the part of a Princess, but it wouldn’t surprise her if catching her unawares was part of the point. She’d have to save the regalia and the tiara for another time.

When she and Umbrosus reached the man, the brusqueness of his greeting seemed to Val to indicate that he was, indeed, trying to put her back on her heels. No matter. He certainly wasn’t the first. Once, she would have shrunk from a man such as this in fear. But it was harder to intimidate Val L’Evienne now.

”Serale, Doukas Parthas.” She inclined her head formally. ”Princess Valanthia L’Evienne, lately arrived from Arakmat.”

Princess of what? Well, that was a valid question. If she was being perfectly honest, she wasn’t entirely sure how these things worked once Milo had given up the throne. Nobody had told her she’d been fired, or demoted — and, she thought darkly, given the recent news from Prime, no one was likely to either. But if she’d learned anything from her brightenings researching nobles, it was that the old families clung tenaciously to their titles, regardless of changes in their situation. Especially given the unsettled state of Aelyria right now, and the lack of a real central government that was projecting power, now wasn’t the time for modesty. Her title, no matter what one thought of it, was probably her best asset right now, and she was going to use it.

As such, she went directly to the man’s second question. ”Knowing things and people is…my business, you might say. A business and an avocation.”

 

[charybdis]

"L'Evienne." The Eunesian turned the surname over in his mouth like one would have a sour candy, exploring all the nooks and crannies that could only have been found by his senses alone. He glanced at her again, using all the extra height that his framed allowed to see over the woman's head before falling downward to her face, and then shrugged again. "Chaire. I have now met one of your kind." Which kind that was exactly was utterly left up to Valanthia's imagination.

Titus's arms crossed about his chest as he took up his sentinel across the watery horizon once more. "From Arakmat and yet you reside in Eunesia now. How did you find your reception there?" His lips pursed at the thought. "Would Arakmat welcome a princess of L'Evienne then? Or even Ieffreon for that matter? I would have thought the mainland would have been better fitting for a princess of a prince." He was not, it seemed, as uninformed as his islander status might have hinted nor the impatience that his personality demanded. Still, he didn't even spare Valanthia a glance despite his most targeted comment, indicating perhaps that he deemed any reply thoroughly unnecessary. Facts were simply known. Affirmation was an unwarranted waste of time.

"How have you found it?" His hands unfolded for a moment to gesture toward the island stretching out behind them. The disputed capital of the Eunesian archipelago was a quiet, idyllic landscape behind them, fulfilling every estimation of its reputation as a bit of paradise. Yet it was the most fragile of pieces of surface art, after all--a fact that Titus Parthas knew most intimately, and perhaps Valanthia L'Evienne had also become acquainted with during her extended stay in its hold.

For now, though, Titus turned about again and simply nodded at Valanthia's answer to his unspoken question. He grunted once and then idly tugged on his own ear. "That's fortunate." He scratched the lobe a bit before looking back in the half-elf's direction. "I need to return to Prime," he finally explained aloud, gesturing a bit over the water as if the Imperial capital lay somewhere in that direction. "But I cannot leave Olympia at this particular time. Tell me, princess: do you intend to live out the rest of your days on this sand and water or have you interest in knowing the things and people that move the earth in these times?" he asked.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

An earlier version of Valanthia -- the one who had stormed out of the assembly of lictors because of aspersions cast on her due to her race -- would have withered under the man's steely gaze, or become combative and defensive. The present Val, however, was able to keep herself under control, though not without a momentary narrowing of her eyes.

"In Arakmat, I received a warm welcome," she said simply, replying to the question even if a reply wasn't needed, and thinking of her experiences with the Sultan. "But Arakmat city is no longer under control of the Empire. Aelyria Prime also lies in chaos, exploded and partially destroyed." She shrugged. "I find Ieffreon pleasant, the sea air salubrious, and the architecture stunning." Her voice was under more control than usual at the moment, something that paradoxically tended to happen when she was feeling angry or stressed. "It is perhaps fortunate that I possess an estate here." 'Perhaps' was underselling it, but something of Val's bone-dry sense of humor might come through here.

When the man finally got to his last question, something clicked in Val's mind. Up to this point, she'd been perplexed by what, exactly, Parthas was getting at. Now she understood, at least in part. He needed information that he couldn't gather himself, and had some notion that Val might be able to provide it. Though she didn't much care for the man's tone, attitude, or air of superiority, she carefully quieted her reactions. The Princess was in a difficult spot at the moment, and needed allies -- or at least, neutral parties -- much more than she needed to express her feelings of distaste. She didn't even make the sarcastic remark that came to mind, the one about how unusual it was to say that you couldn't leave Olympia when you were standing in Ieffreon.

"Though I find the Eunesian Isles enchanting, I find it unlikely that I will remain here forever." She mirrored the man's vague gesture over the water. "There is much to be done on the mainland. As I said, knowing things and people is my business, and one can only learn so much if one confines oneself to a single corner of the world."

 

[charybdis]

"Warm." The Duke of Parthas turned over the word as if he was trying to divine a hidden translation somewhere in its syllables. Thought consumed him for just the barest of moments before his freckled face cracked a wide, sardonic smile. "Warm indeed, I'm sure." What, exactly, and why, was, as usual, left to the listener's imagination. His sapphire eyes turned back toward the ocean-drawn horizon and his arms crossed about his chest, hands curled at the bend of each elbow. "The city of the Imperials has been chaos since its inception," he replied. "Its destruction was inevitable."

Valanthia's comments about Ieffreon, though, did draw another raised eyebrow from her conversational partner, but Titus made no real comment. He shrugged again, eyes never leaving the subtle movement of the distant waves. "It is things and is not many others." It was another matter-of-fact comment whose lack of context was left utterly obscure.

It was her last answer, though, that drew another smile from the Olympian's expression, and this one seemed to be actually sincere. "Indeed." He shifted his weight slightly, creating ripples in his toga in the process, and he shifted his weight across the sand. Whatever attendants to the islander lord had still been lingering now disappeared utterly into oblivion, seeming to back into the very shadows as if they had never existed.

"Lysandria stands. There are things that they would like to know. I, though, cannot be the one to go there to say them." He turned the corner of his gaze toward Valanthia once more then. "What has already been done to rejoin the isles to the imperium is outside my knowledge and my control. But I also do not forget the promises that have been made between the House of Parthas and the House of Lylles."

He leaned forward then, rocking slightly from toes to heels. The volume and tone of his voice fell to one far more conspiratorial and said, "I want the secret of Greek fire back."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

To some extent, Val was able to follow the beginning of the man's conversation. "Warm" -- well, that could be construed as a joke, given Arakmat's climate. The noncommittal response to her praise of Ieffreon -- perhaps understandable, given that Parthas was from Olympia, and relations between the cities had been extremely poor as of late.

After that, however, the princess was sort of at a loss. She knew where Lysandria was, but she had never been there, and had no sense of what its significance might be -- or of the possible identity of "them." Possibly someone associated with the House of Lylles? That was another name that Val knew from her nobility research so long ago, but that project hadn't included alliances or politics between the houses; if there was, indeed, a connection between Parthas and Lylles, Val didn't know what it would be.

She grabbed mentally at the one thing she could put into context -- the reunification of Eunesia with the Empire. Given that, as far as Val could tell, there wasn't actually a functioning central government at the moment, the reunification was probably more rather than less complicated. What had already been done was as much outside her knowledge and control as it was Parthas's. At least she knew what he was talking about though.

When Parthas leaned forward, Val wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn't what he did say. One eyebrow rose involuntarily. The princess knew what Greek Fire was -- or, more precisely, what it did. Some sort of liquid that caught on fire and continued to burn even in water. If she recalled properly, it was the sort of thing used in naval engagements; you shot it out of some kind of cannon, and suddenly the other ship was enveloped in flames that it couldn't put out. She had never seen it in use, however, and she certainly didn't have any idea what it was made out of. It was as if half of the conversation that Parthas was having wasn't with Val at all, and she wasn't sure she could reconstruct it accurately from the pieces that she could hear.

"Your words are...intriguing," Val said finally. Which was one way to put it. "However, I remain...uncertain, one might say, as to how I might be of assistance, Doukas." She gave half a smile, though she was unable to imbue it with much warmth. "Perhaps you could...could enlighten me on this point?"

 

[charybdis]

"Ah." His expression lightened at the usage of his native title and his posture relaxed once more. There was a flash of something, maybe a smile, maybe a twinkle in those sapphire eyes of his, that bespoke of the legendary charm that had so often been employed by this scion of Parthas. He wavered so easily between the heady tyrant and the suave figure, and in a moment the latter disappeared once more again and the ancient titular lord of Olympia returned with its abrupt and pointed sort of ferocity.

"Assistance, yes," the Eunesian noble continued, shrugging slightly. "A L'Evienne still has connections in Prime, yes? One would imagine that you would have known of the circles of the Lysandrian-Lylles during your time there." He frowned. "The prince would have needed legitimacy. A princess, even moreso." The downturn of his lips grew even deeper as he considered his next tact with the careful aplomb of a seasoned politician. Nature had made Titus Parthas abrupt but nurture, particularly when at the helm of the much-maligned and overlooked isle of Olympia that hung far more strongly on ancient history than current circumstance, had taught him a few lessons as well.

He shrugged again. "If you need such introductions to be made again with the first family, then they can be arranged to regain your circles in Prime. But beyond that, I cannot be further involved. Olympia holds no weight in the Principality, after all." But there was a small tug at the corner of Parthas's lips when he said that to seemingly add more unspoken punctuation to his words. "You say, princess, that your business is to know of people and things. So of you I would ask the return of the secret of Greek fire from Lysandria before it again falls into the wrong hands."

This time, his gaze fell from the horizon and onto Valanthia, looking at her both evenly and steadily with nary a blink. His red-tinged eyebrow raised before he then added, "So in return, I would ask the princess of L'Evienne what Olympia could possibly do for her should she ever decide to no longer hide on the pleasant Ieffreon or seek out warm welcomes in Arakmat. Or perhaps you would choose to still do both and we could see what use we could serve to one another."

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

"My sister was married to Ebramsom de Lylles," Val said quietly. Thinking of Nikki in the past tense was still extremely painful to her. "But I...have not had contact with any of the...the Lysandrian Lylles in quite some time." Or indeed, with anyone. That was the sort of thing that happened when a planetar threw you completely out of the timeline for a decade. "If you could...provide such an introduction, I would be most grateful."

The thing about her Prime circles, she thought grimly, was that most of them were dead or missing. Even given the wars and catastrophes that had occurred during her absence, she had hoped to have better luck -- but everyone she had ever been even slightly close to, save and except for Jade and Gye'ron, seemed to have vanished from this particular plane of existence. Milo? Nikki? Nell? Kella? Alexis? Elmaryia? No such luck. She hadn't even had the heart to try and find any of her former colleagues in the Office of Imperial Letters, or her acquaintances among the Rosemen, after she heard of the disaster in the Imperial Palace.

But she couldn't let her mind go down those avenues, not with Titus Parthas in front of her, and so she wrenched her attention back to the topic at hand. "These are...strange times in which we find ourselves," she said. "If it is possible to be furnished with an introduction, it is...it is possible that I may make discreet inquiries." She matched the man's raised eyebrow with one of her own. "It would perhaps be...helpful to know with whom to start such inquiries, if...if such information is in your possession." The princess highly doubted that walking into Lysandria and shouting OK WHO HAS THE GREEK FIRE I KNOW IT'S ONE OF YOU would be a winning strategy. Whether Parthas knew who had said secret was open to question, but it was worth asking.

"As for myself..." She debated how much of her ongoing plan she ought to reveal here. Adding Olympia's navy, equipped with Greek fire, to her current forces? It was certainly worth considering, though such a plan was by no means free of other entanglements. "...it is perhaps likely that...that I may find myself in need of Olympia's aid in the reasonably near future. Should I be able to...to locate the information you wish and return it to you, it is my...fond hope that we would be able to find a course of future action agreeable to both of us."

That was the sort of veiled political-speak that hinted at more than it gave away, of course. But it seemed unlikely to her that Parthas would commit to anything until or unless she had the information he wanted. Better to save her requests of the man until she was in that particular position of leverage.

 

[charybdis]

There was another curt nod, another grunt, and thus another tacit agreement to her suggestion was made. A quick glance was sent over his shoulder as if he was about to ask one of his men to make a note, but then Titus realized that they were all still some great distance away and he, in fact, had been the one to send them exactly there to afford some privacy. He blushed slightly and grunted rather loudly, all in an attempt to awkwardly hide his mistake. "Yes, introductions," he finally said aloud, and then jutted his chin back toward the ocean in the distance. "I don't know of this Ebramsom or your sister. I haven't spent much time in Prime by choice really and especially lately." He leaned his weight back on his heels as he again surveyed the azure horizon line of the sea, making plain his meaning.

He considered Valanthia's request for a moment, as timid and difficult as it was to parse out from the starts and stops in her words, and then he nodded again. "A name, then?" he asked. Another pause drew itself through his mind and then his speech before he plunged forward. "Laurina de Lylles. She is part of the den of thieves there at Lysandria. She'll know my name and why you're there." The rest of the blanks Valanthia was left to fill in for herself as the Olympian doukas merely grunted again, loudly, and turned back to gazing at their placid surroundings as if it had become the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

The woman's next request did, however, draw a curious raise of his red-colored eyebrow and an upturn of his freckled cheeks. "Oh?" The sound was rhetorical, though the ever so interested look that now glinted in his blue-hued eyes as they turned in the would-be princess's direction added a punctuation all its own. "Agreeable? What is it exactly you had in mind?

His lips pressed together slightly. A hand unfurled from his wrapped elbows and he gestured somewhere over the water in what he most certainly thought was the direction of his homeland, though the low fog and the distance didn't particularly allow that to be confirmed from their present location on the Ieffreonian beach. "Zitiste mia chari. A favor for a favor. This seems only fair." With a flourish the scion of Parthas made a show of bowing at his waist and sending ripples through the folds of his toga in the process. "Olympia will then be in your debt, which you can collect at your leisure, princess of warm Arakmatian welcomes and pleasant Ieffreon stays." A wide, thick grin slashed across his bronze face flashed in her direction once more.

 

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

“Laurina de Lylles,” Valanthia repeated. Not a name she had heard before, in any context. The fact that Parthas simply assured her that this Laurina would know what Val wanted hinted at a larger political context that the princess did not fully understand. Nonetheless, it was a start.

Val gave nothing away when the Doukas asked for specifics regarding her plans, instead simply murmuring, “A favor for a favor.” She did, however, reply in response to the man’s last statement.

“I am…grateful for the opportunity to work with you in a…mutually beneficial way, Doukas Parthas. The…fact of your visit will…will not be forgotten. I will remember you and…and Olympia.”

Val had no further questions for Titus — he had given her much to ponder, and the possibility of future opportunities. He didn’t seem the sort of fellow who enjoyed chit-chat for its own sake, and so unless he had anything further to add, Val would offer any necessary parting pleasantries, and not delay his return to Olympia further.

 

[charybdis]

OOC: Thread complete, plot coupon gained. SoF updated.