Cold light, echoing white light of brilliant eyes and the warm light heath’s glow. Siqxhe paced across the room, the sound of his steps almost relaxing… there were mysteries here, things he couldn’t quite understand. As always, his experiments had turned up nothing, and much as it tempted him, he wouldn’t take a hammer to the eidolon any time soon. He wanted to preserve it, not destroy…
He sat down beside the eidolon, watching its cool steel glimmering, facet-glass shining. Not metal… he was sure of that. No metal was that strong, but it also wasn’t quite glass. He’d done a few experiments on the scrap of metal Laeo had given him, and to the best of his knowledge it wasn’t indestructible. He’d been able to bend it with a few strong hits of a hammer, if slightly.
The only problem was what lay beneath the metal. What delicate dreams, what silent hopes… what eternities of falling and dark thought… The eidolon hadn’t spoken again since that once. He’d listened carefully, going so far as to spend most of his time with the thing of steel, but he hadn’t heard more than the pulsing of light, nothing greater than silence of fire and gentle remembrance… “Who are you?” Of course the eidolon didn’t respond, but it was a question that had begun to dominate his vision more and more often. If it was a person, then what had it done before?
Wishes, hopes… Siqxhe sighed, leaning back from the impossibilities and rubbing his head. He’d been awake for hours and he was already getting tired- physically, of this too-warm room that both was and wasn’t a sick ward. A place of questions.
Siqxhe fished around in his pocket, pulling out the sliver of metal Laeo had given him, frowning- It was a strange thing. First was its lightness, more so than any metal or glass than he’d ever held before. Then, its strength. So much more than metal or glass… finally, it was a blend- perfect. He couldn’t see a single place where there was only metal, or a single place where it was just glass. It was seamless, jagged, torn, but seamless…
He held it close to the eidolon’s skin, marveling at how similar they were. The scrap had obvious signs of wear- even if it was mostly invulnerable, whatever had sundered it and its time underground had taken its toll… but the eidolon was perfect, or at least as close to perfect as he could possibly see. Perhaps there were some scratches, but if so, he didn’t see them…
It was just another mystery. Another question to the many-
The door slammed open, spilling light into the room as Soshyetay stumbled in. Siqxhe glanced up, annoyed- he’d told them to leave him alone… then he saw the stewards face. Pale, terrified. Horrified. “What happened?”
“The lord Ididirchi summons you with all haste and the authority- whatever. You understand- it’s urgent.” Soshyetay paused for a second gasping for breath, but whether from having run down to the chamber or from whatever had terrified him so, he couldn’t tell… “Ididirchi needs you immediately. Someone's been murdered.”
………
Siqxhe stood in front of the body.
It wasn’t particularly remarkable in any sense of the word- halfway up the path into the palace, the Ilyaochi man lay face down in a pool of his own blood. Deep crimson liquid that would have been near impossible to see were it not for the many lights Ididirchi had brought with him from the palace. Soldiers prowled the area, looking for any other clues- clues that were, as it was turning out, nonexistent. The only thing that existed was the body, and the empty cart he’d been carrying.
Ididirchi himself stood off to the side, looking angrily at the corpse as if glares could bring a man back to life. His eyes are so cold… “Doctor. Can you tell me what happened?”
“He was stabbed in the back of his neck. At the very least I can see that clearly… but, look here.” Almost gingerly he pulled at the cloths around the wound, revealing how cleanly it’d been cut. “The knife was sharp, and it severed his windpipe easily. He wouldn’t have had time to cry out.”
“And the scrap is gone.” Ididirchi glanced quickly at the cart, almost too quickly to notice, but Siqxhe had been paying attention. So that’s what it’d been holding. Whatever they were mining, the scrap…
“Someone stole it. This was done by a professional. Or at least someone who’s well equipped.” It was mostly speculation on his part- So’kashi knew far less than he did about the art of murder, and that said a lot. He knew little himself.
“This can only be a work of the Ilyoachi and their treachery. Railoxhe! Explain this immediately.” A guard roughly grabbed the elderly advisor, shoving him in front of Ididirchi in a position that forced him to carefully avoid the body while kneeling. A position that forced him to kneel in the blood.
Railoxhe nodded respectfully to Ididirchi, pointedly ignoring the corpse mere feet away from him, face a perfect mask of emotionless cool… or almost perfect at least. Siqxhe could have sworn he saw a faint nervousness there- it was clear from Ididirchi’s response this wasn’t a normal occurrence. “My lord-”
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“How- you told me the Ilyaochi would back me. You promised, but they still kill and steal.” By now a crowd had started to gather around them, Ilyoachi who’d pried themselves from their jobs at the hint of drama and formed a semicircle from a safe distance, dirt-streaked faces looking out over the scene from beyond the blades of Ididirchi’s guard. A tension filled the air, almost palpable.
Railoxhe nodded respectfully once again, and Siqxhe had to admire that- he’d just been accused of murder in front of a crowd, forced to kneel in blood, and yet he held his cool. He was strong. “I apologize, my lord, for the regrettable incident before us. The scrap that was stolen can’t travel far- I’ll set some of the guards to tracking the responsible parties. The Sakaxhy will remain safe within their walls of stone.” There was a silent promise in those words, a guard against betrayal. Once again, Siqxhe found himself admiring Railoxhe. He knew how to speak…
“I want the scrap returned, and the murderer found, and soon. I will not tolerate disorder in my fief.” Ididirchi waited for a second, glaring out toward the throngs of Ilyaochi that started, wide-eyed toward the scene of a body bathed in blood and light, Railoxhe bleeding. “The nobles in Ilaial will not tolerate disorder beneath the eyes of god.” The crowd shifted slightly, fearing- anger perhaps, or sorrow. It wouldn’t inspire them to behave, thought Siqxhe- god was their enemy. Orange skies were a death.
Once again Railoxhe nodded, yet composed… still that hint of nervousness had expanded, unwittingly- visible in the contours of his face, the gentle tones of his voice. “They will be caught. Order will be maintained… and your wishes will be fulfilled.” Gravel shifted as Laeo stepped up beside him, eyes narrow, concentrated. It was clear he wasn’t afraid, but then again, Siqxhe hadn’t really expected him to be- he was strong. Stronger than him…
A single long minute stretched out into eternity, chill winds brushing over the dead, grasping radiance of orange eyes, a gentle hue against the deep black. Ididirchi looked at the body, then out into the distance, coldly… standing, he motioned for Railoxhe to follow. “I trust you will follow up on this and ensure the scrap makes its way to the warehouses. You will uphold your bargain…” The crowds began to dissipate- the Ilyaochi back to their ingenious mines and Sakaxhy back to the castle, dark eyes, suspicious glares.
And Siqxhe, the Nola- slightly nauseous from both the murder and the confrontation afterwards, stumbled back toward Laytaihishu on Soshyetay’s shoulder. Wondering- hoping that this didn’t mean anything. Hoping they’d be safe… wondering.
“Are you… well?” Soshyetay propped him up on a chair as they entered the castle, looking for obvious signs of injury he wouldn’t find, and subtle signs of sickness he wouldn’t know. “You don’t look very good-”
“I… I’m fine. I’m just not very good with that sort of stuff.”
“But…” Soshyetay’s confused expression almost made him want to laugh. Just because he saw death so often didn’t mean he couldn't care. He could care- he had to care. Or else he’d just be nothing… immediately his mind wandered back to the darkness beneath the mountain and God, the long hallway of the dead and dying, that memory that he couldn’t… he pushed it, with effort, out of his mind, breathing deeply.
“I’m fine. I will be fine… the murder just doesn't sit well with me. I try not to let it get to me, but the senseless brutality of it all… I don’t usually treat fighting wounds, unless they’re from a duel. Noblemen have those sometimes in Nolabo…” He realized he was rambling and shut his mouth, slowly standing and meandering away from the entrance. He passed a few servants who looked at him askance, dark eyes- the Ilyaochi. He passed a few Sakaxhy soldiers which seemed far more alert than they had been before, scanning bright hallways for hints of darkness.
He passed white stone, gentle lanterns flickering and the light of hearths, warmth and the cold of fear, and left it behind in the upper reaches of Laytaihishu. Now he was exhausted in truth, worn from the mad dash to the body and the pressure of fate… the pressure of murder beneath the every-watching eyes of god.
Siqxhe slid the door shut as he entered, letting it softly close. A seal to the outside world, however flimsy- the shield of professional practice and wishes. Sosheytay’s sudden appearance in the morning only highlighted the tenuous nature of their arrangement… he stood beside the eidolon of steel and reflection, calming himself. “We’re not so different.” It was little more than a whisper, accentuated by a brush across the cold, foreign steel.
No response.
“Stuck here- you through some quirk of biology or science that I can’t understand, and myself…” Darkness beneath the earth, blood above, trickling down until it returned to waters of forever and the wide oceans. White stone fortresses, bright lights hidden beneath immensities of shadow. The will of Ididirchi. “Prisons… they’re made for us, and we walk right into them.” He didn’t know what to do with it. The eidolon was beyond his knowledge, however much he didn’t want to admit. He could study it for years and never figure it out.
However much he was interested in the creature now, he had things to attend to back in Nolabo. He’d been learning under one of the professors in the college in hopes of teaching himself. Moving away from the actual work and into pure application, speculation…
Darkness beneath the earth. The dying… he’d cared for the highest noblemen of the holy state, the clergy and those who ran the entirety of empire. He’d never concerned himself much before with… people. Still, he couldn’t quite get the image of that darkness out of his head. The dying… he chafed, here, caring for a being of cold steel that didn’t need, and he couldn’t know why. Nothing more than the slight knowledge, the memories of black hopelessness and the scent of blood.
“What should I do with you?” No response, of course- if it spoke, it spoke beyond his comprehension. There were just so many unknowns…Strangely alive, but not quite- he stared into its glowing eyes, the strength sunlight and starlight and unknowability hidden behind those orbs of brightness… secrets, hidden within and without the white stone walls of Laytaihishu…