Efrain had managed to resurrect a half-bundle’s worth of flowers before the commander met him on the rooftop.

“Well,” Efrain said, examining one of the still-brown blossoms, wondering if it was fully dead, “how’d it go?”

“She talked to me for five minutes and decided that, and I quote ‘it’s too early in the morning for pomp and politics. Wake me when it’s a decent hour or can speak sense.’ I think I’m in for quite the trip over coals tomorrow morning,” said the commander, sitting down at the table, “engaging in some horticulture?”

“Trying to reawaken these buds,” Efrain said, “I’d hate to see a friend’s work go to waste.”

“That right?” said Naia, “Well, word is you’re quite the figure in this city. Founder of the academy, friend to one of the most famous Eisens, and so on. How old are you?”

“Never bothered to count my birthdays,” Efrain said, fully conscious of the fact that he’d long forgotten, “if I had to guess, somewhere in the four-five hundred range.”

Naia audibly blew out his cheeks, whether it was genuine shock or an affectation, Efrain couldn’t tell.

“Years? How’d you manage that?” he said, “come to think of it, I’ve never bothered to ask if you were human.”

“Walks like a duck, talks like a duck,” Efrain said, “yes, I’m human. There’s quite a few ways to extend your life using magic, some more pleasant than others.”

“So which did you use, pleasant or unpleasant?” Naia said.

“You seem awfully cavalier about all this,” Efrain said, turning to the beleaguered man.

“Can you blame me?” he said, “most of my plans just went up in smoke. Plus it’s about midnight. I’m exhausted.”

“So, you’re planning on letting her stay with her family after all?”

“I don’t see any other option,” Naia said, “short of convincing the girl to leave, and I don’t see a way to convince her. The matriarch didn’t tell me much, only that she’d found her granddaughter and hoped I had a good explanation for keeping her.”

“Call me pessimistic,” Efrain said, “but I don’t think she’s going to buy that hogwash about our ‘oh-so-horrible mistake’.”

“Why? Did you tell her something?” Naia said, suddenly worried.

“No,” Efrain said, “but she’s sharp. And I don’t think she believed most of the things I said either.”

“That she certainly is,” he said, “I knew her by reputation, but it doesn’t quite do justice.”

“So, what are you going to do now, then?” asked Efrain.

“Well, there’s no way I can just snatch up her granddaughter,” Naia said, “it would be immoral, not to mention impractical. Now I have to worry about how I’m going to calm the paladins.”

Efrain didn’t envy the man.

“I can still work on the twins, I’m sure. Frare never cared for the church to begin with, but his sister… she might be a little more difficult.”

Efrain felt some repulsion at the words, but it wasn’t like he could throw stones on this account.

“Hm,” Efrain said, “you know, I was offered a job here.”

“Oh, really?” Naia said, “at the house of the Eisen?”

“No. The mentor of the academy said he’d step down if I elected to take the role from him.”

Efrain watched the man sink just a little deeper into the chair.

“Well, I suppose that’s not unsurprising, given that it quite literally bears your name,” he said.

One of the blooms was finally beginning to come around; not entirely dead after all.

“You should take it,” Naia said.

“What? And deprived you of your investment?” Efrain chuckled.

“I know when to cut my losses. My bargaining power without Aya has dissolved into thin air. You could be powerful, respected, especially if you manage to make the academy more than a joke. Which, considering what I’ve seen you do… I would take the offer, if I was in your position.”

“You seem awfully willing to give up,” Efrain said.

“Writing’s on the wall. Fighting against it would only waste resources that could be directed to better ends,” Naia said.

“How… pragmatic,” Efrain said, turning back to the collections of withered flowers.

“Indeed, now I’d better get some sleep before confronting the others,” Naia said, passing a hand over his eyes, “this is going to be a painful morning.”

The man got up and treaded away on sandaled feet leaving Efrain to indulge his craft. As with most delicate tasks involving magic over a significant period of time, Efrain quickly became absorbed in the work. Before he knew it, the sky was beginning to lighten, and he’d revived most of what could be saved.

Efrain stepped back from his work with a satisfied grunt, looking at the planters filled with ghostly white blossoms, threaded and splotched with indigos and blues. There was a faint glow, now rapidly becoming a memory in the sunrise. He’d need to get the servants to procure coverings if their delicate beauty was to be preserved.

“You-” he said, turning to look for the manservant left for him.

There was an elderly man, dressed in fine green and gold, drinking from a steaming cup. Evidently, he’d been there for several minutes, if not more.

“Yes?” he said.

“Who are- where is-” Efrain said looking around, “when did you get here?”

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“Oh, about ten minutes ago,” said the man, “you seemed so focused I hate to disrupt you. I had always wondered what the lilies looked like at full health. As for your other question, my name is Fascili, husband to the matriarch.”

“Ah,” Efrain said, “in that case, may I sit?”

“Of course!” Fascili said, waving to the chair across from him, “be welcome. I’d happily share this blend with you, if you so desire. The servants told me you’ve been working all night.”

“I rarely require sleep anymore,” Efrain said, thinking back to the episode in the academy office, “work keeps my mind from wandering.”

“You and me both,” Fascili said, pouring a cup for him and offering, “although gardening never quite agreed with me in the same way writing did.”

“You a student of the Boddhi?” Efrain said, to a nod, “great school. Playwrights were always the best, which made them insufferable.”

The man chuckled, filling his own cup.

“Far be it from me to speak ill of my classmates,” he said, “I’ve written a play or two in my time.”

“Let me guess - poet?” Efrain said, “you don’t seem quite stuffy enough to be a historian.”

“In one,” he said, “you must know the city quite well.”

“Hardly. I vacated for a century and a half,” Efrain said.

The tea was a rich, earthy concoction with just a hint of astringency, the smell running tiny, tingling vines up Efrain’s nasal cavity.

“So I’ve been told,” Fascili said, “the matriarch likes you, I think. Not a common offer to strangers. My granddaughter seems impressed with you as well.”

“Speaking of, where is your wife?” he said, “I thought we were going to have a verbal row this morning. All of my witty retorts I spent the night preparing are going to waste.”

“She’s hunting,” Fascili said, “it’s tradition for her, every Festival. She cooks the main dish of the feast, and for that, we need quite a lot of meat. She took Aya as well. Hopefully she doesn’t frighten the girl.”

“Hunting?” Efrain said, feeling another notch of respect for Aysatra.

“She wouldn’t have it any other way, I’m afraid,” he said, “it might not be her career, but the guild adores her for it. Usually, they’re quite… well, independent might be the best word. But they’re always overjoyed to receive her.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact she’s an Eisen?” Efrain said, “much less the fact that she’s the current head of the family?”

“You’d be surprised,” Fascili said, taking a delicate sip from his own cup, “the hunter’s guild is one of the oldest, almost as old as our family. They hold their own section on the docks, have their own ship fleets, and so on. Not everyone in the city is beholden to our family.”

“Huh,” Efrain said, trying to remember what he could about it, and coming up blank.

“In any case, it’s her last chance for some unintrusive bonding time with her long-lost granddaughter,” he said, “in fact, I came here for much the same reason.”

“Bonding time? I’m honoured,” Efrain snorted.

“Ha! No, some peace and quiet, no offence,” said the man.

“None taken. So, you’ve yet to break the news to your family then?”

“Not quite yet. I suggested that we should wait until after the Festival, but Aysatra’s firm. She’s exhausted from all the squabbling over the estate, and wants an end to it. Plus, patience in household matters was never her delight. It’s always been my domain.”

“I see,” Efrain said, “I can’t imagine some of the household will be too happy.”

“You’d be entirely correct,” Fascili said, his smile growing rather sad, “some of them have been working hard to try and claim favour, or to position themselves in other ways to get at the family’s inheritance. Many have put earnest effort over the years, there’s no doubt.”

“Hence, one last morning of peace and quiet before chaos spills over?” Efrain said.

“Precisely. Speaking of, you’re invited.”

“Why?” Efrain said, “I think you’ve heard everything you wanted from me.”

“Our apologies, but the matriarch and I are in agreement. It would be better for the whole family to hear the story over, from the horse’s mouth, as it were.”

“Alright, if it’s the last thing I have to do,” Efrain said, “After that, I have to correct all those unholy academy books. They’re more error than text at this point.”

“That’s rather unkind,” said the man, “I’m sure, even to a scholar like yourself, there must be some redeeming points.”

“I wrote their basis,” Efrain said, “imagine some of your oldest poems were used as education material for a new generation of students.

The man shuddered, despite the warming of the air.

“I see your point,” he said, “I should get properly dressed. Our family is one of the few that do not partake in the tradition of sleeping in on this day. The meeting is scheduled in about three hours. Would you like me to send a servant to retrieve you?”

“A bit before, if at all possible,” Efrain said, “I assume that the commander will be present as well?”

The man nodded.

“The matriarch doesn’t think so, but I do feel we should apologise for it - dragging you into the more messy aspects of our family’s lives. You didn’t ask for it.”

“Neither did Aya, but we’re both here.”

“Your magnaminty is appreciated,” he said, rising from the table, “or should that be forbearance?”

“There’s the poet.”

Chuckling, the husband of the martirach, departed down the stairs of the pyramid. In his place, a servant came up to greet Efrain.

“Is there a house carpenter?” Efrain asked.

The young man responded that there were indeed several, but most were on site, aiding the construction of the festival.

“Fetch one for me that isn’t,” Efrain said, “I’ve got a little project for him.”

The carpenter, a surprisingly slim woman of perhaps thirty, listened to him as he described the necessary preparations for the Lillies. She withdrew paper and charcoal from her bag, and quickly sketched out the rough design of a canopy of canvas. She too departed from the pyramid, with several notices for the house gardener.

“I don’t suppose they couldn’t just recreate the pool here,” Efrain said to himself, “dig up all the tiling and just move it across the city.”

They probably comfortably could, if any of the rumours of the Eisen’s wealth were to be half-believed. He made a mental note to himself about trying to dig out his old papers on the subject. He was left with about two hours left till the meeting, so he inquired as to whether the Eisen had a personal library. To his joy, there was a large room near the heart of one of the outer pyramids, its wooden shelves covered with removable canvas to protect it from the salt. Efrain happily picked out a few volumes on the city’s recent history and went to work devouring them.

“Sir?” came the manservant’s voice, “you wanted to be early to the meeting?”

Efrain looked startled, not feeling the passage of time at all. Brushing himself off and taking care to place the books back into their place, they left for the central pyramid. There were already a few members milling about, eating simple soups and conversing quietly. Quite a few of their eyes turned to the stranger in black, who regarded them impassively. Naia was on the other end of the hall, wrapt in conversation with Azia.

“Hello commander,” Efrain said, noting the bags under the man’s eyes, “I take it you were hoping for a sleep-in?”

“Unfortunately yes,” he said, saying some customary excuse to Azia and approaching him, “especially knowing that I am subject to an interrogation with the sunrise.”

“You and me both,” Efrain said, watching several more people drift in through the entrance, including a mother trying to keep some younger children under control.

“I suspected that they might want to lay it flat for the full family,” Naia said, “hope you’ve got your story straight.”

“I was going to say much the same to you,” Efrain said, leaning in and whispering, “I assume we both know what we’re going to leave out?”

“Of course,” Naia said, “now we’d best get in place before the matriarch comes. I’d hate to move through the crowd.”

Within ten minutes, the tables were crowded with about half a hundred people. Most were adults of some description or another. There were a few children here and there, but they were kept thoroughly in line by their guardians. A whispered word confirmed that these were members of the family only. Spouses of other names were left in their quarters, which also explained why Efrain and Naia were getting odd looks.

Soon enough, Fascili emerged, announcing that the matriarch was coming. There was a good deal of correcting posture and adjusting clothes at that. Everyone clearly had dressed as well as they could for what was nominally an informal gathering. Efrain felt out of place with his relatively simple clothes, for all their enchantment. That vanished when he remembered what he would’ve worn to such an occasion, the last time he was in the city.

There was a tap of something on the hall, and to a chorus of gasps the matriarch appeared, Aya in tow behind her. Even Efrain started at the state of the old woman, who was covered in blood. She seemed none the worse for it, however, wearing a broad grin, even as some of the members of the family got up in some hackneyed attempt to ‘help’ her.

“Oh sit down,” she said, striding up to the central pool and taking her place before one of the tables.

“I take it’s not your blood,” Efrain called out, trying to break the tension in the room.

Asaytra pointed a red finger at him.

“You see? This one has talked with me for all of ten minutes, and he understands better than half of you. But that’s besides the point.”

She drew herself up, and took in a deep breath. Efrain noted with amusement that several of the audience members flinched.

“You all!” she began, “you’ve wondered who is to be my successor and when it shall be announced. The answer is simple. Most of you will know that I have a daughter, who chose to leave the city for the north. What you might not know is that I also have a granddaughter.”

She gripped the shoulders of Aya, the blood on her hands seemingly the lesser source of the girl’s discomfort.

“This is her. Multiple, incontrovertible proofs of her identity have been put forward! As such, she is my direct descendent, and my heir. She is to be my successor. That’ll be all.”

With that, she took her granddaughter by the shoulder, and walked out of the pyramid, leaving behind absolute silence.

“Looks like we’ll be skipping the grilling after all,” said Naia dryly, the shocked faces of the family members surrounding them.

“Right. Shall we go before the dam breaks?” said Efrain.

“I think so. Take the opposite exit. They’ll go after her for sure.”

They managed to make it across the breadth of the hall before the shouts and cries of disbelief started. They were crossing the eastern bridge when Efrain looked back and caught a glimpse of members rushing forward to the other side, trying to catch up to the matriarch. Naia casually strolled on, as if he was letting all the disappointment and failed plans fall away with the crowd behind them.

“Her reputation doesn’t do her justice,” Efrain recalled as they passed into the house.

“It doesn’t indeed,” Naia said with a slight smile, “I think we’re done here. See you at the Festival then?”

“Perhaps,” Efrain said, “I’ve got several decades worth of errors to correct at the academy.”

“Well, if nothing else, I mean to enjoy my old home once more. I may even contemplate getting well and truly drunk for the first time in years,” Naia said.

His neck craned around to glance once last time at the distant pyramid.

“Saddled with the sins of your forefathers,” Naia said, “seems to be a theme of our visit so far.”

The two men chuckled as they emerged out onto the front steps of Eisen complex, finding boats ready and waiting for them.