Open Wounds

[Ariadne Fyrian]

In the days following her return to Necia and the incident at the Oratorium, Fyrian and Erifa had been allowed little knowledge of what had befallen Weeta; all they knew was that the Mer had been taken to the Fire Academy. Beyond that, nothing. It was maddening, and none would disclose any information that could possibly be had. Weeta lived, that much the two Glaucans were told, but as to her state there was nothing anyone would say.

For Fyrian and Erifa both, it was maddening. They shared a room in Draxus' villa, away from any prying eyes that might be seeking them out. The Satrap himself had remained absent, but that was to be expected. There was no doubt in Fyrian's mind that he was dealing with the aftershocks her arrival had created.

Both Glaucans sat on the floor, a shallow water bowl between them. Erifa had healed her hands over the course of the previous day, submerging them in water and calling upon her great father to mend the burns she'd sustained. Fyrian however had had more contact, and her own injured hands were taking more time. With gentle touches and gentle words, Erifa held her captain's hands beneath the water. Through her murmurings the cool liquid glowed a soft blue, working to heal and wash away the blisters on Fyrian's palms.

For her part, Fyrian remained quiet, her eyes closed as Erifa worked her magic. Her hands would heal she had no doubts.

But, more-so than her own self, there were other wounds that she was worried for; and whether or not those wounds could be healed.

[Csephion Draxus]

The atrium doors swung open as Draxus and his entourage returned from the day's labors.

"Dispatch my edicts immediately, I want no delays in this."

A weary-faced Draxus passed off handfuls of scrolls to a pair of men, who bowed and quickly exited.

"Tonic water."

A slave approached with a small glass of a cloudy liquid, which the Satrap drank from on his way to his study.

"Someone summon Ari...Fyrian. At once."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Erifa's healing powers were strong, and while Ariadne still felt a slight burning soreness in the palms of her hands, she knew that the injuries would indeed heal. She simply needed more time to allow them the chance. Eirfa was drying her captain's hands with a small hand towel when the slave entered their room, beckoning for the elder Glaucan to accompany him.

A nod, and she left the girl behind without a word. Both knew who had called for her, and both exchanged resolute stares before Ariadne disappeared through the doorway.

When she was admitted into the Satrap's study, she stood just inside the now-closed door, staring at him from across the room.

"You should have let me pass on the road from Tirgatia," she finally spoke, cutting the silence between them like a hot knife through butter.

[Csephion Draxus]

"Indeed." Draxus said tautly, not particularly caring to dredge up the past or any regrets of it.

"Sit."

He unfurled a scroll on his desk as he sipped his tonic water.

"Your antics the other day have nearly undone my entire life's work. By the force of my will and the good graces of the Gods, we endure."

Draxus tossed her a transcribed copy of the same document before him.

"The Satrapy is nearly at war with itself. My petty squabbles with Regulus Varo have become magnified, and the entire government has polarized. Right now, my party supports your petition for Republican clemency and the drafting of pardons not just for you, but your entire fold, on the condition of course that they align themselves with Demos."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

Not even bothering to open the scroll he'd tossed, Fyrian only stared at him, her green eyes giving him an icy look.

"They will do as I tell them to."

She folded her hands in her lap, carefully massaging the still tender flesh. This talk of political rivalries was only the surface, and she intended to immediately cut it away.

"I did what had to be done. Whatever turmoil you now feel however, was not caused by my arrival in the Oratorium."

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as her voice lowered to a biting hiss.

"It was you, oh noble Satrap, who began this game. You conspired with my father to begin this, to allow your precious Lantern to become separated from Necia.

"And what I have done in returning the Lantern, is nothing short of fulfilling your ultimate desire."

She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You wanted Necia, and I have given you Necia."

[Csephion Draxus]

He would not stoop to fall for her barbs. What he had to say was clear, and to the point.

"The Satrapy requires disclosure of Kairun Fyrian's plans, and his intentions with the lantern."

He took another drink of tonic water and met her eyes.

"It is as you say, my designs included work done at your father's hand, but we both know that this is not quite as it has been. Your father had intentions beyond our agreement.

I need you to rectify this, and to give the Satrapy a name."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

"Kariun spit in Denetion's eye. The both of you did, but Kariun wished for more."

She leaned back in her seat.

"He meant to take the Lantern to Nusakar."

The land of the dead. The land that none returned from. The cursed land that destroyed all who ventured past her borders. A dead wasteland that held such terrible power to turn whole armies into fields of bleach-white bones. Only death and suffered could reside in Nusakar.

"He hated Necia. If there was anything I remember most about him, it was the endless tirades over Necian atrocities and horrors. He would sit me on his knee and tell me terrible stories of Necian soldiers, raiding villages and conquering lands so they could call them their own."

She looked away from Draxus.

"And he hated you most of all."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus half smiled.

"Convictions at least. It does not surprise me that I keep enemies with some fortitude and will. He's neither the first nor will he be the last. All great men collect such adversaries."

He rose from his desk.

"Nusakar does no one any benefit, however, and so we need another name."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She turned to look at him, watching as he rose to stand. Another name??!

"But I've given you his intentions. He told me himself that he was to take the Lantern to Nusakar."

The expression on his face gave her pause, and before long she too stood up from her chair. She scowled at him, finally understanding his intentions. He was shrewd, cunning, and above all, ambitious. It fairly radiated from him, and worse yet, to Fyrian, it was infectious.

"Tell your Satrapy to turn their swords to Ankaa."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus nodded in perfect understanding.

"That is a name that will be of great curiosity to hear, I'm sure of it."

He finished his tonic water, the ache in his head subsiding somewhat.

"When the Satrapy takes your deposition, make mention of our mutual Ankaaran enemy. They have queer and foreign ways, but above all, they are an enemy with both wealth and allure. A sensible enemy to have."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

A shallow bow, and Fyrian closed her eyes.

"I will do so."

She watched him carefully, trying to pick apart his movements, his expression, anything. He appeared tired, worn down, and it made her yearn to reach out and alleviate his aches and pains.

"You wanted Necia for your own," she repeated her earlier words, though now her voice held a softer edge, a pleading undertone that begged for him to understand.

"And I could think of nothing to give to you short of that."

[Csephion Draxus]

"And I to you, a life free from the trouble of ever-vigilant Necian retribution for crimes that were not yours."

He massaged a temple, at last returning to recline on his couch.

"Then why do I not feel at ease?"

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She followed at a slower pace, coming to a halt beside the couch before carefully lowering herself to her knees. She rocked back slightly, settling her weight more comfortably. She had come back for her crew, to give them their freedom and release them from the punishments brought on their heads by Kariun. But, it was not the only reason that she'd returned. The same loyalty to her men was the same loyalty that Draxus had for Necia, and she'd found a deep kinship because of that.

She stared at his face, her eyes locked with his.

"Through me, my men are yours."

Fyrian reached out then, ever-so-tentatively, and touched his fingers.

"But they were not the only reason that I returned."

[Csephion Draxus]

Draxus was lost in his thoughts.

"I feel that the virtue of our love has been molested somehow by the unsavory aspects of our reality, and I wish this to not be so.

We have both deceived each other. I pray that our deceptions are now ended."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She made a pained face at that.

"I am the same woman that you met in Tirgatia; I am Fyrian, but I am also still Ariadne."

She felt for all of Asga like a spurned woman, turned away, and in a pang of regret the Glaucan stood. The muscles in her jaw clenched; she swallowed hard. She had indeed impaled him upon his own ego as she'd intended at the start of this, but after it all, she found that she too was as deeply wounded as he.

Her next words were but a whisper.

"Am I to be dismissed, then... ?"

Please, tell me to stay. Do not cast me out...

[Csephion Draxus]

"Stay with me the night."

It came as a whisper, and he looked up at her with a serious earnestness.

"For whatever we've done against each other, I cannot imagine enduring the days without your embrace. Perhaps we can atone for our transgressions, the both of us."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

The relief in her eyes was a tangible thing, and Ariadne moved to sit at his side. And though her hands were still warm to the touch, she carefully reached out to trace his browline. That she would remain with him was obvious in her expression, the harsh lines that had dominated her countenance when she'd first come into the study having melted away. She would stay with him every night if he so wished.

A tender smile.

"My necklace; you still have it?"

[Csephion Draxus]

He rose from his seat, and went to a shelf, plucking an ornately carved wooden turtle shell from its resting place. He opened it, and held the familiar article of jewelry aloft.

"I still do."

[Ariadne Fyrian]

She rose as well, trailing after him. Reaching out to take the simple charm, she felt the familiarity of its' curves for a few moments before untying the leather thong and replacing it around her neck. She felt whole once more; its' weight a comforting thing.

"In the Oratorium," she frowned at the memory, "... you looked as though you already knew."

[Csephion Draxus]

"I did."

Draxus nodded, and gestured to her.

"Turn around."