by R J Kaldanis
“I was going to read, actually.”
He raised his eyebrows,
“You brought some books with you?”
“Sadly, no. I was going to borrow some from Princess Kibo actually. Well I mean I was going to ask, I’m not sure if she will let me.”
“She let you travel halfway across the world without any experience or ascertainable talents, I’m sure a book is nothing in comparison.” He very nonchalantly replied, sipping his hot tea and looking off into the distance.
“Why do you feel the need to constantly bring me down?” Aardriyah raised her voice, sick of dealing with his constant negativity and judgement. On the island only the blessed had treated her so poorly, but on the ship, it seemed the opposite - the unblessed, or at least this unblessed man, treated her with no respect or dignity.
“Bring you down? You mean, tell you the truth?”
She couldn’t argue with the statement, after all he had just been speaking truths that no one else seemed to. He was meticulous in his inspection of workmanship on board and was not afraid to point out any flaws he found.
“Let me tell you this, Riyah. You don’t get to where I am by lying or making faults and being lazy. You get to where I am by taking pride in your work and by forever trying to improve yourself. You are my responsibility on board this ship, so any sloppy work you do reflects poorly on me. Working continuously hard is the only way you’ll show those blessed bastards out there who say we have no place in the world, that they are wrong.”
“I’ve found that the blessed on the ship are really quite friendly and not once have they pointed out my flaws or made me feel like I don’t belong.”
Master Keelie scoffed, clearly not buying her story.
“One week at sea with a bunch of blessed servants and you think you’re part of them, that you’re accepted and welcomed. You may have become worthy in their eyes to share a table on board, but the sea is a lonely place and people will do anything to avoid that pang of loneliness taking over their every thought. Once you get back on dry land, let me know how your newfound friendships travel and if you’re remembered at all or simply put back in your place in society like the rest of the unblessed are.”
Aardriyah hated him, hated the words he spoke that were always so damn negative. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten the lifetime of torment and bullying from the water blessed on Veros, but why should she believe that all blessed are the same? Why couldn’t she hope that maybe she was considered an equal, a friend, a confidante to a blessed? She had no words to accurately put him in his place, at least none that she thought she would get away with saying without adding more menial chores to her daily list. So she stood from the table, grabbed hers and Kit’s bowls and made her way to the kitchen to clean up. At least there she might find a friendly face and someone who could speak kindly to her, rather than lecturing her first thing in the light.
Unfortunately, Old Man Teme wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so she placed her bowls in the wash basin and made her way to Princess Kibo’s chambers. There were more than the usual four guards posted outside her bedroom, which made Aardriyah nervous. Thankfully, they main guards knew her face and allowed her entrance into the room beyond.
The Princesses room took up an entire front quarter of the ship, her bed alone was almost the size of Aardriyah’s and Rachida’s shared room. She wondered how one-pint sized woman could possibly need that much comfort. The rest of the room was adorned in portraits and paintings from the Princesses’ homeland, in pale watercolours displaying scenery spanning from fisherman's villages to pagoda’s on top of snow-capped mountains.
Usually the princess was at her desk, reading or writing in peace with a warm cup of tea nearby. Today however, Aardriyah was stunned to see the princess looking less than composed and in a deeply heated conversation with Chastion. It was the first time Aardriyah had ever seen her beautifully long and perfectly straight white hair not in a bun.
“Sorry I didn’t realise you were -”
Kibo blushed and walked to a screen divider to fix her appearance a little. Chastion spun around quickly, looked towards his sister and went in for a hug. Aardriyah stood silently, still unsure how to react to her brother’s sudden desire to hug her every time he saw her. Her body almost crushed under his muscles and she faked choking, to indicate he could now stop.
“How is it all going? Are you well?” He was clearly trying to distract from the situation she had just walked into.
“Fine and yes.” Both of them had crossed their arms in time and smiled awkwardly through pursed lips.
“Keeping busy?” He asked.
“Yes, actually. Master Keelie has got me on so many - “
“Isn’t he great? Really great lad in my opinion, always so hardworking and diligent, can’t fault him, I’ll tell you that. You should count yourself lucky he’s keeping you busy, a few weeks in his employ and you’ll be one of the most skilled unblessed people out there.”
Of course, Chastion was friends with someone like Keelie, they were practically two peas in a pod with how arrogant they were and how both of them seemed to hold themselves in such high esteem. Aardriyah’s personal idea of the Netherworld would involve just listening to those two conversing or ordering her around. So having to deal with both of them before peak sun just seemed like a cruel way to begin Lullday. She sighed and looked over to Kibo who had tied her robe, fixed her hair and was now making her way over to the siblings.
“Princess Kibo, I was just down to see if I could perhaps borrow a book or two? Just something to do on my first day off. I’ll return them as soon as you want, I just thought since you had so many you wouldn’t mind -”
She was rambling again, filling in awkward gaps and silences rather than letting them hang. Thankfully the princess was smiling and nodding, giving Aardriyah an indication that her request had been well heard and understood. The princess walked to her bookcases, thought a while and then pulled out three separate books. They were by far the most beautiful Aardriyah had ever seen, with gilded pages and filigree detailing on navy, emerald and wine covers. A simple gold ribbon was tied over the top of the books, and then passed gently into Aardriyah’s hands with a curt nod from the princess.
“Wow - thank you so much. I promise I’ll take the best care of them.”
“You’re welcome.” Princess Kibo responded, standing slightly behind Chastion. Aardriyah looked over the two and remembered the exchange she had abruptly interrupted with her entrance. Deciding it was best to let them get back to whatever it was they were discussing, she curtseyed low and made her way back to her own room.
She pushed the door open to a startled Rachida who was curled up in her bed reading a familiar book - Aardriyah recognised it instantly as a feeling of betrayal sparked inside.
“Why are you reading my dream journal?” She almost yelled across the room. Kit whimpered away to his bed, afraid of the sudden outburst from Aardriyah. Rachida’s golden eyes rose and flickered in sudden panic.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was personal; I thought it was just some… dreams, that’s all.” She said, handing the book back to Aardriyah.
“If I knew it was personal, I wouldn’t have, I’m sorry Riyah.” Looking over the woman’s disheartened face, Aardriyah could tell there was no malicious intent, no desire to pry where she thought there’d be any danger. After all, it wasn’t as if Aardriyah had tried to hide the book or kept it in a secure place, not that there was necessarily a secure place to put it in the cramped room.
“It’s ok.” She took the book and along with the others placed them on the bedside table, before sitting on her bed and removing her shoes.
“I really like your writing, if that’s any consolation?” Rachida was really trying to make up for the wrong she felt she had done.
“I mean, you’re take on the Fall of The Marconian Empire is really different and interesting. It’s almost heretical to be honest.”
Aardriyah thought back to the night she first boarded, the bizarre dream which she assumed was just a fantasy, not rooted in any truth.
“It was just a dream, it’s not like I actually think any of that happened. I’ve just been writing them down because someone told me it might help me sleep. If all these crazy things I seem to make up in my mind are on a piece of paper, they might just stay there instead.” She shrugged and laid herself on the bed.
“But you have heard of the Marconian Empire, haven’t you? Surely, being from Veros you would have.” Rachida pressed. Aardriyah had heard of them, after all they were a fire empire that had supposedly started all this hatred. They had caused the ongoing feud between Veros and every other fire empire. They were the reason she suffered relentless bullying as a child. Her red hair an apparent sign that she was an enemy, an unwanted outsider.
“Of course, I have! Look at my hair, it’s the bane of my existence all because of that darned empire and what they did to Veros!”
Not sure if she should press further, Rachida pursed her lips and thought back to what she had just read in Aardriyah’s dream journal, separating fact from fiction.
“I just think you ought to be careful with where you leave this book lying around, someone might take your writings as separatist propaganda, that’s all.”
“As what?” Aardriyah mildly understood the two words but had never used them together and could not understand how a simple reflection on a dream could be thought of as anything other than fantasy. Rachida moved to the door and locked it, before placing a fur blanket at the bottom of the door to block any noise from travelling through the gap. When she was content that the noise from inside the room would remain so, she began.
“On the New Continent, there is a movement, or at least murmurs of a movement, that wish to separate from The Crystal Capital. They basically try to win followers over by taking volumes of our known and recorded history and amend them to suit what they believe to garner support.”
“But why?” Aardriyah had otherwise been blissfully unaware, just like the entire nation of Veros it seemed, of any political tension or underground movements on the New Continent.
“Some people, I suppose, don’t believe that The War of The Elements, the war that united the New Continent, really happened the way it was told. There are all these theories extending even back to The Continental War. Some people believe that the Old Continent still exists, and they live in harmony with no separation of elements. The separatist propaganda lately is spreading this idea that death isn’t in fact guaranteed if one blessed has children with another blessed of a different element.” Rachida was speaking at a speed almost too fast for Aardriyah to understand and hushed in a tone so low her ears could barely register.
“What do you believe?”
Rachida contemplated for a moment, rubbing the side of the temple, her eyes looking down at her palms. Aardriyah noticed the room was becoming noticeably warmer as she rubbed a sweat drop from her forehead.
“I believe what I have seen, what everyone on The New Continent has had to witness at least once in their life.” Rachida was struggling with putting the words together, for someone who seemed to have no problem speaking at lightning speeds, it was a solemn moment to watch her take the time to form the next sentence.
“In your journal, you mentioned Princess Kallostoria giving birth to a live babe to a man of water blessing.”
Aardriyah nodded.
“That’s not how it happened or would ever happen. Princess Kallostoria was forced upon by a water blessed and unable to carry the babe to full term.” Rachida continued.
“Why?” Aardriyah hadn’t heard this version of the story and it seemed to differ from the one that was told on Veros in early schooling years. Which was understandable as the implications of the actions of the water blessed were appalling.
“Because the babe killed her, drowned her without her entering any water. It flooded her body from the inside out. It broke the hearts of both her husband Prince Sha and father Emperor Kallostorius, sending them into a rage to vent their land of all those water blessed who threatened to do the same to any other fire blessed women. That’s what caused the eruption of Mount Tromos and sent the water nation of Veros to their now island homes.” The room felt as though the wood would catch fire at any moment and Aardriyah began to sweat profusely in the intense heat.
“That’s ridiculous!” She snapped, “The Marconian Empire erupted Mount Tromos because they were jealous of The Verosian’s skilled farming and rich soil, they wanted the land and trade routes for themselves and no longer wanted to share with The Verosian’s. So the emperor erupted Mount Tromos which sunk a great part of the mainland of Veros and left the rest of Veros scattered as islands. Then when he was celebrating his great victory, he failed to take note of the ash spray and was too drunken to evacuate his people before they were covered under masses of ash, killing his entire empire in the process.”
Both women stood tall and proud, uncaring of the heightened volume of their voices and unwavering in their determination to prove the other wrong and defend their great elemental lands. Rachida spoke through gritted teeth,
“I should bring your stupid book to the Crystal Capital Court Justices and have you imprisoned for your fake words.”
“Do it! I’d love to see them waste their time on someone as pathetically unblessed as me. They’ll probably imprison you instead for wasting their time, just as you have wasted mine.” Aardriyah seethed; for once she was pleased she was unblessed. It meant she never posed any real threat to anyone or any institutions or beliefs, no one would ever heed anything an unblessed had to say and anything she wrote would be deemed fodder, not worthy of a second’s consideration.
“No wonder no one wanted to share a room with you. You’re an uneducated, unblessed elementist!” Rachida moved the fur she had laid at the doorway, unlocked the door and stormed out, refusing to give one moment more to Aardriyah.
With her exit, the cold of the outdoor ocean suddenly hit the room, shocking Aardriyah into snapping out the war of words she was still fighting in her head against Rachida. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she felt a need to so vehemently defend the island home and the people on it who had made her life so miserable. Somehow in defending them, she had lost one of only two friends she had felt she had made on this ship and hated herself for doing so. Particularly when she realised the whole argument had begun because Rachida was trying to protect her - to educate her of rules that seemed to apply in The New Continent that otherwise hadn’t reached Veros. She realised she’d need as much education and help as she could get before she reached The New Continent if she was to survive what sounded like a political minefield. Sitting down on her bed and cuddling into Kit, she decided to try to shrug off the terrible morning that seemed to just get worse and worse with every interaction. Where people constantly failed her, or she failed them, characters in her books never did.
Aardriyah undid the ribbon tying the books together that she had borrowed from Princess Kibo and looked over the titles. Folk Tales of Mizu, The Adventures of Meshell & Clint and Herblore in Everyday Life. None of them really appealed to her, she had read the adventures of two of the most famous explorers, Meshell & Clint, several times as a child. The herb lore book sounded like something Old Man Teme or Sekher would appreciate more than she would. She settled on learning more about her future sister in laws’ home country. If she wanted to survive life on the New Continent, she’d need to start learning as much as she could about the cultures of it and this book seemed a good a place as any to begin.
Aardriyah got through a number of chapters before peak sun gleamed through her porthole. She was just about to make her way to the deck, to find Rachida and apologise for their earlier war of words, when the door opened and the short fire blessed woman entered, sheepishly smiling at Aardriyah.
“I hoped you’d still be here. I really feel awful about everything I said e
arlier, Riyah. Sometimes I get carried away and before I know it, I’ve said too much and have become too passionate and ruined everything. My words always seem to cause my harm and damage than my fire ever does.” She sighed before sitting upon her bed, looking sorrowful towards Aardriyah.
“I’m sorry I snapped too. It feels like all morning I have just upset people and caused problems.”
“How so?” Rachida sat up on her bed, patting the front of her lap for Kit to come over. Aardriyah thought carefully about her response, it might seem weird if she mentioned Princess Kibo and her run in with Chastion, so she decided to go with the safer and more logical explanation.
“It’s just Master Keelie, it’s as if he goes out of his way to put me down or like he enjoys seeing me in a bad mood. I don’t get what his problem is or why it’s constantly me that has to deal with his bad temper.”
Rachida looked at Aardriyah in a contemplative stare, opening her mouth and closing it before whatever it was on her mind, slipped out. Aardriyah figured that if whatever Rachida was struggling with saying was bad enough she had to censor herself, she didn’t need to hear it as it was just likely to make her day worse than it already was. Rachida motioned towards the books that were being touched by the peak sun, the gold edges of the pages reflecting onto the wall.
“Where did you get those from?” Rachida asked.
“Just Kibo. I mean, Princess Kibo. She lent them to me for the day or so since I’ve no duties today; they’re nothing special.” Aardriyah hoped this sounded plausible and that Rachida would leave the questions there. Of course, she didn’t and sat back down on her bed, indicating she was going to pry further and not leave Aardriyah in peace to read her books.