Cat and Mouse, Mari

[Kadir Lusset]

This makes no sense!

Frustrated, Kadir threw a chunk of badly burned wood at the battlement hard enough to splinter it into several more pieces. Almost literally growling, he crossed his arms and glared down at the ruined, blackened mess before him. As soon as he'd heard of the attack on Venea, he'd made his way to Imperial City, mostly out of curiosity. Venea was not his goddess, but an attack on one could become an attack on all. He wouldn't tolerate any aggression towards Ebelle or Ty. However, after doing a little investigating, he discovered there had been quite a bit of magic present at the assassination attempt. A fact that struck the half-breed as quite odd considering the rebellion didn't use mages or magic of any kind. So, he demanded entrance into the palace grounds to investigate. It had taken some convincing, but eventually he got in.

So, now, he was looking over the grounds and the wall where the remains of the ballista remained for investigative purposes by the MIF. However, nothing he saw made any sense whatsoever. Fire magic was clearly used, but when did the rebellion start using such methods? The only explanation was a new rebellion or a new leader of the present one, stepping in in the absence of the Lucius'. So, then, why bother with a ballista? A weapon of such high caliber was understandable. After all, a bolt that large and moving that fast would be extremely difficult for even the air goddess to stop even if she knew it was coming and braced for it. But why bother with it at all if magic of even greater caliber was to be used? A distraction of some kind? And then there was the explosion that demolished the ballista after it fired. One fire mage attacks Venea, while another protects her? That only serves as a sign of lunacy. There was no sign of any attacker, either. No body. No blood. Nothing. Commander Adolphus Kroeger was discovered in a peculiar position--hanging from the side of the wall not far from the ballista's wreckage--but there was no other firm evidence of who the attackers might be. And any conclusions Kadir tried to draw from what he had before him, no matter how small, were useless and nonsense.

Sighing heavily in his ire, the half-breed donned his bandolier and greatsword and dropped from the wall, using his wings to ease his fall. From the base of the wall, he made his way to the small table laden with food and drink. He planned to be here for a while and requested refreshments a while ago. A young servant girl had brought out said refreshments shortly after, but he had been busy and hardly noticed her. But it had been several hours since he'd last eaten and almost as long since he had more than a swig from his own waterskin.

Kadir glanced at the sky to judge the time to be early afternoon, and then picked up a small loaf of bread and bit a chunk off of it with another sigh.

"It will be a long day," he muttered to himself.

[Mari]

The day had started early for Mari. The day always started early for Mari, with water from the well at murky pre-dawn. She thought of it now, because by afternoon she felt filthy from sweat, the dirt coating her legs, the smears of charcoal. She had lost track of what else, but standing in the sun she became acutely aware of the grime from the beads of sweat snaking down her legs, down her back, down the side of her face. It reminded her of the damp, smoky-scented morning air and the rapid succession of chirps the birds emitted when they, too, perhaps ought to be in bed.

But Mari, one of the few awake, had the privilege of a less populated world, a world with more space to call her own. Even better, she had the task of drawing water and distributing it to the nobles’ rooms. None moved on more silent feet. Mari suspected she had been assigned this duty by a superior who did not liker her and mistook her small frame for a sign of weakness. She was not weak. She could toss hay bales and carry flour sacks as well as her brothers; she could lead a bull calf to water, although she could not make him drink.

An unintentional privilege was awarded to Mari with this morning duty. She had the means and moment to wash herself, splashing water on her hands and face and neck and under her arms, raking wet fingers through her hair. Rinsing her feet was out of the question; it would lead to muddy footprints. It was little, but it was enough. That bit of cleanness soothed aches in her spirit.

Her spirit did not precisely ache now, but she felt dirty. It was the sweat, its cloying filthy smell.

A pebble bit at Mari’s heel. She shifted her stance slightly, keeping her eyes on the man with the wings. She had been wondering if he could fly and could not keep from grinning when she saw that he could. The things in this world!

It was moments like this that made her glad she had come to the city. She was hot, uncomfortable and forced to stand hungrily beside a table of the sort of food she would never taste. But there was a man mere feet away from her, who could fly! She itched to say something to him—no, that was just an itch. Mari resettled herself more comfortably. Still, if only she had something clever to say, or relevant.

Did he feel strange, she wondered, standing close by another person and not saying a word? Or did he not realize she was a person at all?

Nevertheless she found herself responding to his comment, “Aye, so it will.” Two years in the city, she still spoke like a country girl. Off his look, she said, “I was only agreeing with you, Sir. I can disagree, if you druther that.”

[Kadir Lusset]

“Aye, so it will,” the servant girl said suddenly. Kadir snapped from his reverie and looked away from the table at her. He'd been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed she'd returned to wait on him. He stared at her curiously for a moment, looking her up and down in silence and wondering how long she had been there.

“I was only agreeing with you, Sir. I can disagree, if you druther that.”

He frowned slightly. Her accent didn't belong in a city like this. What a peculiar human. At least, he assumed she was human. She was certainly not a demon, he'd have noticed immediately, and she did not have the pointed ears of the elves or the dark skin of the drow. At the very least, she was mostly human. Kadir would never understand their race, even though he bore human blood in his veins.

"No," he said after a moment. "You are right to agree. I imagine it will be a long day for both of us." He hesitated. He greatly disliked humans in general, but once given the chance, individuals could placate him. And, besides, it was always harder for him to be aggressive towards a woman, regardless of age. "What is your name?" He asked her finally.

After taking another bite of bread, he removed his bandolier and sword and laid them flat on the ground beside the table. the half-breed then turned his main attention back to the ring of burnt earth near the palace wall. He had briefly examined it earlier, but was fed up sorting through the wreckage above, so decided to investigate it again. He had never seen or heard of this black fire he was told about.

But before he took another step, an odd sound met his ears: the growling of an empty stomach. Surprised, Kadir turned to look at the girl, the only other being around except for a small number of guards stationed periodically around the perimeter. It occurred to him then that she was a servant girl. She probably did not receive very fair treatment as such. It wouldn't surprise him if the girl had gone the entire day without so much as a crumb passing her lips. He grabbed a second small loaf from the table and tossed it to her.

"Eat," he commanded. "A child should never go hungry."

[Mari]

“Mari, Sir,” she supplied when asked her name. “Amarantha, really, but only my brother ever called me that.” It had been more than a year before she could talk or think about her family without becoming upset, but now thinking of home made her feel happy. She still missed it, some, but she did not yearn for home. Her memories made her happy—well, some of them did. Remembering her brothers—remembering awkward Emryn who had always seemed closer with Mari than with the other boys—made her happy.

Now that he had engaged her in conversation, Mari cast off her servile demeanor. She retained enough to be clearly, respectfully submissive, but she took a real look at the man. And though she noticed his less-than-human teeth she felt no fear of him. She recognized that look of pointed distance. None knew emotional removal better than a servant. Though he was clearly no servant, for that distance she felt a sense of understanding. She understood that, too, that some needed to be distant not because of class necessities but for personal choice.

“And you are?” she asked.

Mari decided she thought well of this man. And not just because he could fly. She liked him, in her own way, and felt no evil from him. It was no sixth sense, merely intuition that kept her safe from those who meant harm. The sharp teeth and huge sword would have frightened her if she thought he meant her harm.

This belief in his innate goodness was confirmed the moment Mari felt bread in her hands. “Thank you.” The bread was good and warm from sitting in the sun; it could have been stale almost rock-solid, she still would have eaten it gratefully. Between her rank and her age hunger was an almost-constant companion. Mari bit into the loaf, then ate in pieces, tearing off the crust in chunks and eating that first. Even so she ate quickly, and in less than two minutes the bread was gone.

[Kadir Lusset]

The girl answered promptly with a cheery voice, the kind used by people who always find something to smile about. They find the silver lining around every dark cloud as his mother would have said.

"Mari, Sir. Amarantha, really, but only my brother ever called me that.”

Kadir's curiosity was piqued when she spoke her full name. He had heard it before. It was the name of the late goddess of time, although the child deity's name had no 'a' at the end. He paused again and focused wholly on Mari. He couldn't resist a light smile as he watched her devour the bread hastily.

"Help yourself, child," he told her, motioning at the table with a flick of his wrist. "Amarantha? After the former time deity, Amaranth?" he asked with interest.

He noticed her eyes examining him in a mild fascination. The half-breed supposed that a creature so young probably had never seen much of the rest of the world. It was likely she had never seen anyone like him before; his wings, his sword, his eyes. He noticed that she seemed particularly interested in his wings, so he rustled them a bit into a more comfortable position to see her reaction. He silently wondered just what she thought of him. He watched her curiously and voiced his wonder slightly.

"Do you like them?" he asked her, shifting his wings again.

[Mari]

Mari did not have to be told twice to eat. This time, though, she was carefully polite instead of wolfing it down. That had been response to an empty hunger now in small part slaked. She had thought her superiors surely disliked him. They often assigned the less-than-desirable tasks to her, and she caught them for lack of anyone to fob them off on. But liked or not, he was given good food! This was a unique experience she planned to enjoy.

She shook her head to the question. “Amarantha after the plant,” she explained. “The strawberry blite, the amaranthus.” In her mind she saw the leaves in her front pocket, the leaves on the ground by her feet back home. It grew wild, and she knew when to pick the leaves, when to pick the flowers. “It’s a good one, the flowers for healing, the leaves you eat.” Mari had not been asked a personal question in some time. The babbling explanation was out before she could think.

It made her think of the plants nearby. Many had been blackened, dead, but as ever the few strong weeds held on, spots of gray-green. The wind shook loose a few threads of a dandelion’s head.

After a moment she realized it wasn’t a natural breeze but the ruffling of feathers.

“Do you like them?”

Mari grinned. “Oh, yes!” She loved his wings, so bright with the sun, so like a bird's, in some ways, but their span...! She did not know that she had ever seen anything so wonderful. She reached out, then hesitated. “May I…?”

[Kadir Lusset]

The half-breed blinked in surprise at Mari's response. He hadn't expected a young servant girl such as herself to have any kind of knowledge beyond what was expected of her in the palace. Then again, he doubted she had spent her entire life, from womb 'til now, carrying trays, pushing carts, and cleaning up after nobles. And even so, she must have brief moments to herself. It wasn't really so unreasonable she would possess other knowledge.

"Oh. Of course." he said. "My mother taught me about them, too."

He couldn't resist a grin at her excitement when he proffered his wing at her. He simply nodded his consent as she reached out to touch it. Kadir watched her curiously for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him again.

"So, tell me, Mari," he began cautiously. "You must see that I am not entirely human. Yet you clearly are not afraid. What exactly do you think that I am?"

[Mari]

Without a thought Mari touched his wing. She was not shy, examining the feeling of his wing against her fingers and palms, like a small child for the first time holding a rabbit. But unlike most small children, Mari was gentle. She observed his wings with almost reverence, and in the same way she touched them. There was no way she would cause him any pain.

This was not because she was afraid. Mari did have much to fear. As a servant she dared not harm any noble or even commoner; her life might be forfeit for such a thing. Clearly, too, Kadir had the ability to harm or kill her. She did not believe he would. Nor did Mari fear harming him, for she doubted he was much more vulnerable about his wings than for example his hands. Her gentleness with his wings came more from a sense that here was something beyond the world she knew, something wondrous.

The question startled her. What did she think he was?

“I know not what you are, Sir,” she admitted, still marveling at his wings, “but I know some things you are not. Evil. Vicious. Bad, Sir. You are not bad.” That much her instincts told her. “Why? Would it please you better if I were afraid?”

Though she asked honestly, this was not at all what Mari meant. She asked because she knew, simply knew, he did not want her to cower in fear, and she wanted him to recognize that as well. Something about him made her trust him.

It was not unusual for Mari to focus on a part of the introduction, not the question itself. She had no idea what he was. That seemed unimportant to her. All the things that made humans human--good and bad, right and wrong, intelligence, thought, speech--he had those things inside him. She knew he did.

[Kadir Lusset]

Kadir was glad for her gentleness. It had been so long since he had felt such a touch, it was almost remarkable. And, because, although his wings were strong, they were possibly his weakest point and sensitive at any rate, as wings must be. Mari's answer was certainly odd; not what he was expecting and he smiled sardonically at it.

"That is hardly true, child. I am by no means a saint, and most certainly a sinner." he argued quietly.

It occurred to him suddenly that they were still standing and that she must stand constantly each day. He was used to standing and walking for hours on end, but one so young and soft should not be forced to do the same. Hardships, mental, physical, and emotional, were a part of life, but to be thrust upon children before they are ready is wrong.

He motioned with his wingtip toward the steps leading up to the battlements saying, "Come. Sit." not unkindly. The two sat on the wall steps together, his wing in her hands again; he was endlessly amused by her fascination.

"No, I would rather you did not fear me at all," he finally replied to her question. "But you still have not told me what you think that I am. I am curious what sort of beast you believe me to be."

[Mari]

Mari followed where bidden. This time she would have been perfectly comfortable refusing him. If she had any inkling of fear against him, sitting beside him as an equal would have brought it to the front of her mind. As vulnerable as it made her, servitude offered its own protections. She was, technically, under the protection of her employers, and besides, most saw her as a pathetic scrap of humanity towards whom much more than a slap would be seen as abusive.

Men lost honor by beating those beneath them, whether they knew it or not. Equals had no such protection.

“But I said no such thing,” she replied, ever patient and gentle but annoyed. She was not annoyed with him. Her feelings towards Kadir remained the same: fascination, interest, and affection, as much as one may feel affection in so short a time. “It is not what you have done but who you are, in your heart.”

It felt like the sort of comment necessitating eye contact. Mari’s eyes remained fixed on Kadir’s wing. Eye contact was a form of defiance for her; she had been told she had a very intimidating stare. And it made her uncomfortable. Eyes! She could look at them when they looked away, but when they looked at her they made her spirit waver.

“Is it so important to you?” she asked. This time she asked in earnest. She wondered, were his wings so fragile as birds’ wings? Were the bones so empty? “I think you are not so different from a man, I think… I think the creatures… beasts, as you say, we think different from us are not so different. I think you are good,” she offered, a solid answer in her own ears. “But to put a word to you… this I cannot.”

She felt a surprising disappointment in herself to deliver these words, as though she had failed him. Very gently, knowing it to be against certain standards, she touched his hand. “If I could…” It was kindness. He was kind in practice and heart; she believed that. And she could not return that with a simple word.

Mari shook herself. "What about kind?" she suggested. "If you are a beast, as you say, then you are a kind beast."

[Kadir Lusset]

“It is not what you have done but who you are, in your heart.” She said.

Kadir couldn't resist chuckling cynically at the remark. It wasn't to mock her, but she was too young and naive to understand how the rest of the world reacted to creatures like him; half-breeds bearing the blood of monsters, demons. Suddenly, he pitied her and envied her for her limited existence at the same time.

Then she asked him, “Is it so important to you?” and he thought about it for a brief moment before he answered.

"I would not call it important, no. But I am curious." His answer was sincere and his voice thoughtful when he spoke.

He listened quietly as she continued, a sardonic smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth when she called him 'good' and more so when she called him 'kind.' He couldn't help himself, really. Kadir refused to believe that he really was all that 'good' in any sense of the word except perhaps when referring to his skill in taking the lives of others. Demon blood mixed with human blood in his veins, and most shunned him for that and more distrusted him for it. He accepted his heritage sensibly; t'would be foolish to deny it. But he wished fervently that it could be different, if not his blood then his image in the eyes of others. He did not believe this girl when she called him 'good' and 'kind,' but he felt a certain softness for her because of her words.

"I am not so kind and good as you seem to believe, Mari, I am sorry to say."

He reached a hand towards her, palm up, and curled his fingers right in front of her eyes. His claws made the gesture seem slightly sinister, and a darker atmosphere would have only made it more so. Altogether, with his inhuman eyes and the large black-feathered wings sprouting from his back, it was a dark image.

"I am only half human," he said after a second or two of staring at his own claws. "My father was a pureblood demon." He smiled again, and again there was no real humor behind it. This time it was a sadness centuries old.

"That is what I meant when I asked what sort of beast you believe me to be. I wondered if you could see the cursed blood in me."

[Mari]

The display of his demon-ness, showing his claws, did raise a gasp from Mari, but not the sort of gasp he likely expected. She was fascinated, almost as much as when she saw his wings. With the same gentleness she took his hand, touching his claws, feeling their sharpness. By birth, Mari was a farmer. She had seen claws all her life—on cats and dogs, or talons on birds. None were quite like his.

“But, Sir… why do you say you are only half human?” she asked. Her tone was curious, respectful, her voice somewhat younger than it had been. When she spoke again it was as the student too clever by half, sweet as honey in a bid to avoid punishment for blatant disobedience. Though she had no fear of him, it was a too-practiced tone and came naturally. “For as two halves must be equal, surely you are as much human as demon.” She knew her reasoning to be utterly sound, at least from a mathematical perspective. Mari always did have a way in her of making pieces add up.

She could not believe him when he told her he was not kind and good. Well—perhaps he was not so good as she would like to believe, but she would not be convinced he had no goodness or kindness in him. He had given her bread when she was hungry. He had treated her like an equal. These were not things he had to do, or even things society would necessarily approve of him doing.

[Kadir Lusset]

(((OOC:Sorry it's taken me so long. I've been out of sorts and just haven't been up for writing anything for a while now. I forced this out, so sorry it sucks.)))

Hearing Mari gasp, Kadir felt a certain disappointment. He hated being feared simply because of what he was and strongly wished that others would look past his appearance. If they must be afraid of him, he wished only that they had a proper reason for such fear. However, he couldn't resist the urge to remedy the girl's naivety by putting some fear in her. That she wasn't scared, but was, in fact, further amazed by his appearance disturbed him in a way.

He shook his head gently when she attempted to justify his humanity. It was a clever attempt, and due credit, but t'was far from the truth.

"If only it were so, Mari, but I am afraid it is not."

He sighed suddenly and bowed his head as the memory of why he was in Imperial City to begin with crept its way back into his mind. The frustration he'd sought to escape by striking up a conversation with this young servant girl tinged his mood once again. The half-breed shot an irked glare at the battlements overhead, where the blackened wreckage of the siege weapon lay scattered about. Then, an idea occurred to him.

With a sudden renewed earnest, Kadir turned back to Mari. "You seem to be a very intelligent girl, Mari. I wonder if you might be able to help me with something." He motioned with his other clawed hand towards the palace wall. "You know of the attack on Venea Zephyrius, yes? Well, there seems to be evidence supporting the idea that my goddess, Ebelle Azuke, was somehow involved, as well as other strange possibilities."

He quickly summarized the events as he was aware of them and the evidence he had discovered in the palace. He kept his own theories to himself for the moment. The mercenary wanted to hear what Mari thought of it all before he shared his own ideas.

"So, what do you think?"