RADIA
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Lyric
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Stevane knits her fingers together, hands clasped in front of her legs, knees bent up close to her chest. She's sitting with her back against Jhe h'Logos's bed. She closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath, and then exhales slowly. I don't think I've ever seen her so quietly tense. I've seen her angry, and busy, and frantic. That was different. It seemed more natural.
Then a shenanigans climbs onto her head with a high-pitched mewl, and breaks the spell. Stevane giggles, a strange hiccup that almost sounds like a sob. She cradles the shenanigan, nuzzling its nose. I pet my own shenanigan. She bit me, so I think she thinks I'm hers now. She's a cute little thing, though.
"What are you going to name her?" Stevane looks at me over a pair of tiny kitten ears.
"Mewgul." I nuzzle the thing, and it belligerently bats at my nose. "I think she's pretty cranky."
"Needs sleep." Stevane lets out another long sigh. "Not an uncommon thing in this room."
I nod. "Where'd the other shenanigans go?" There's a few nestled around Jhe h'Logos still, but most of them have disappeared.
She shrugs. "Probably went to whomever created them. Everyone who signed on to the project put in a request for at least one, so I imagine they're all gonna get a surprise or two now. I know Jhe h'Logos planned on a few extras as gifts and stuff, and made at least one for himself, so I think that explains the extras. Then there's my two, and it looks like you're getting one of them. There's no other shenanigans since nobody else is here." That pinched look is on her face again.
"Hey, it's alright. At least I'm here with you." She just hmphs into the kitten's fur. I tilt my head. "Stevane?"
She closes her eyes. "Yes, Lyric?" She looks like she's about to pop, but she's a lot like Father right now - he looks really mad when he really might be about to cry. I even have the same fear of actually seeing those tears manifest. Hopefully what I'm about to ask her will distract her from all of this, but it might backfire totally.
"I know this is going to be a stupid question, but are you Armed?" There's a moment or two of silence, and then I decide to nervously fill it again. "I've been gone ten years, so... I realize I missed a lot, you know?"
She nods, biting her lip and looking away. She's looking for a distraction too, trying to organize her thoughts and speak. She remembers the tea and drinks from her cup. I have a sip too. It makes me think of Ebrellin-i. Thankfully, Stevane starts talking before I can think too much about that.
"Yeah so, I started training as an Armed about a year ago. I decided to after my initial Poet training came to an end. Daddy was so proud, because I was catching on really fast. It felt pretty good for him to be proud of me, since he just thinks of Poets as dorks, or flakes. And well, he's got Jenny, and she's practically a girl-version of Camden when it comes to being Armed. She's a real natural, fighting's like breathing to her. Me, I... well, I didn't hope for the best, but... well, I actually did pretty good!" She gulps nervously. Weird - why would somebody be nervous about succeeding? "I mean, pretty well. I did pretty well." She glances back at Jhe h'Logos, her expression wilting.
"So... do you have Arms now?" I don't want her getting depressed. It feels awful to watch her be like that. Especially now, when things are so tense.
Another long sigh, like the weight of the world's coming down on her shoulders. Another Daddy mannerism. We all have them to some degree, but I've never seen her act so much like him before. It's even more than Gerald does, and he imitates our Father on purpose. "I... not yet. Not quite." She takes a cautious glance back at Jhe h'Logos before drawing out the hunting knife I saw earlier. It has that glint to it, that not-just-a-knife glint. She holds the point in front of her eye, and the glint makes it look like she's winking. "Iaen knows his knives, and so he gave me it when I was going out with him. Before Daddy chased him off and threatened him with a blunt instrument, which is really quite mild for Daddy. It was right when I needed temporary Arms, the kind you focus on and practice with while you train up to have real Arms. Herald... he's pretty handy. Not Arms, no, but I named him just the same. You're supposed to, with weapons. So I can communicate... well, he's like the Arms I don't have yet. It's practice, I guess, and it's honoring the weapon. I'll need to do that for my Arms or they'll, um... Daddy told me the Arms would get angry. Mikhal told me they'd gut me. So, Dad'll give me my true Arms when I complete my training. When I'm... ready." She pouts.
"Well... when are you gonna be ready?"
Her face grows even more pinched. She's really trying not to cry. "When Daddy has a chance? When I do? Jhe h'Lete's grown so weak and sick, and I've been helping out so much everywhere... I can't leave the Poet Hall now, and Daddy's too busy with his job. He says he can make time, but... well, then he doesn't, and I don't want to ask him and end up causing even more problems. There's more important things now than me getting my Arms." That last part sounds like a lie, but maybe I shouldn't say that.
"Is it okay to put it off? You seem... well, you look like hell, sissie. And you haven't acted like yourself since I've gotten back." I guess I can't help but be honest.
"I've been stressed." She bites her lip, waggling the knife back and forth slowly. She traces it down to the floor, almost starts chipping it into the wood, then pulls it up with a blush. She sheathes the thing, then. "Nervous habit."
"...Stevane? What happens if you don't get your Arms?" I can tell she's avoiding me.
She shrugs, looking away. "Let's not talk about that. It's... not something we need to worry about now, okay? I'll be fine. We just need to watch Jhe h'Lete for the nigh--" she chokes, then crumples forward, wrapping her arms around her legs again. She buries her face into her knees, lets out a sob, and then jumps at the squeak from the shenanigan in her lap. She uncurls, picking up the little thing. "Aww. You poor dear." She nuzzles it.
"Dad's... not really gonna fire the Poet King? I mean... he can't, right?" It scares me to even ask it. I mean... I just got to the Poet Hall, and just started considering the idea that I might be able to be a Poet.
She considers that. "He'll have to ask Unkie. Unkie... will probably say 'no'."
"Really?"
She nods. "Really. Dethroning Jhe h'Lete doesn't seem like the sort of thing Unkie would do. I'd know. I pay a lot of attention to how Unkie works and what decisions he makes. It's important, you know? It's kind of... part of what I'm fighting for, I guess. Why I became Armed."
"For Uncle Lui?"
She grins. "Yeah. Everyone has something to fight for, I guess you could say. Different Armed have different nationalities. We're not all sworn to Radia. Heck, Jenny's an anarchist. She just fights because she's like, Daddy number two." She shakes her head. "Getting off-topic. Unkie won't do what Daddy's asking for. He'll probably order Elete to rest, though. There'll be a proxy Poet set up for him to take care of active duties, and possibly some special wards to keep him in bed." She frowns. "It's weird... he's always been a little weaker than everybody else, but right now he's sicker than I've ever seen. It just came out of nowhere, right when the Peacock King got dragged into Radia." She blinks. "...Right when the Peacock King arrived. At the Trial." She frowns.
"What's wrong?"
She shakes her head. "He's... just never really liked his brother. Never likes to talk about Jhe o'Sul at all. Err, Jhe o'Audiva Rocale. He's... well, from what little I could catch, they've been fighting since they were kids. Sometimes... Jhe h'Lete acts like his brother might have... done something bad to him. I don't like to pry." She sighs. "If he did anything to Jhe h'Logos, they'll sort it out. Jhe Katherine and Daddy. But... in the meantime, like I said, somebody's got to fill in for him." She bites her lip, scrunching her eyebrows together.
"So what's the problem with that? I mean, it'd give him rest. He seems... like a pretty active guy. Someone to cover for him sounds like the perfect solution."
"Yeah. You have a point, but who's gonna do it? There's been a few Poets that have stepped in for Jhe h'Lete when he was ordered on vacation before. He's needed a break every now and then. Those guys... well, they're not here. They're on long-distance assignments. One or both will have to be called back here, and that'll probably take awhile since they're on diplomatic missions. Edward's way off in Chethar. That's across the ocean! He can't just hop back the short way from the First World! Elric's closer, over in Rhivend, but communication has been really slow from over that way. And things must be busy, because it's been awhile since I've even gotten a letter from Elric. I really miss them both. Elric's been gone almost as long as you have, Lyric!" She looks up at me, then blinks.
I know I must be making the worst face right now. I'm really trying to contain my emotions, but it's just not possible. She cocks her head at me, the question of 'what's wrong?' not even needing a voice.
"Stevane..." I gulp. "When we were in Audiva Rocale, we found out... Camden found out Elric's gone. He's been captured. That Cade guy had his quill and was faking his letters." Stevane looks horrified. "I'm... I'm really sorry. I didn't know you knew him."
Her eyes are wide. "If Elric's captured--!!" She almost rises, then sits back down when it looks like Jhe h'Logos is about to stir. "Somebody's got to do something! He's very important! It's really, really dangerous for him to be gone! I can't believe nobody let the Poet King know!" She catches herself. "But then... he's so sick right now. Still, his job still has to be done... did Daddy really not tell Jhe h'Logos about this on purpose?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. I do know... well, Stevane, it sounded like they have more Poets. N-Nul does. And Armed too. That's what almost happened to Gerald. He almost got taken away by Cade. He would have, if it weren't for... well, a lot of things."
Her eyes are still wide. "Well? Go on! What's wrong, I want to hear about this!"
"I... well, I wrote a lot of it down already."
"So show me!"
I sigh. "I didn't write it all! I got interrupted in Audiva Rocale and I couldn't record the rest!"
She stands up this time, stalking over to a side of the Jhe h'Logos's room where paper is neatly stacked up. She grabs a sheaf and also snatches a quill and inkwell while she's at it. She plunks them all down in front of me. "Write." She puts her hands on her hips. Her shenanigan glares down at me imperiously from atop her head.
I raise an eyebrow. "That sounded like an order."
She nods, grinning. "It is! You're my apprentice now. You can't just keep goin' untrained, and Jhe h'Lete was probably going to assign you to me. I teach now. That's while I do advanced training in the Poet Hall, and help out with stuff. My previous students are all done with now. So, get to writing!"
I roll my eyes, blow my bangs out of my eyes, and then wince as Mewgul clambers up on top of my head. Teeny kitten claws raking against my delicate skin! Ow!
"And tell it while you're writing it, because I wanna hear!" She grins. "That's good practice, too."
"No ulterior motives there," I grumble.
"Hey! If you're gonna say it, you'd better be writing it, too!"
I get to work. I'm not really that concerned about her being my teacher now or anything. It's more that I remember the last time Stevane set my head on fire, and she's getting that look in her eyes again.
