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LOG: To Be Queen

Page history last edited by Liz 15 years, 7 months ago

Synopsis: Lark visits Alseia in the Sun Kingdom shadowland, for the first time since she got back from Sezakan.  They have a long talk about Lark's new job.

 

         The army Alseia's gathered has been joined by the remnants of the Sun Kingdom armies, and become a somewhat impressive fighting force, with a fortified encampment. Patrols scout the border of the shadowlands nigh-continuously, constantly on the alert for an Underworld invasion, and although tension is high, morale is reasonably good as well. Everyone's hopes are pinned on the idea of the shadowland being healed before the Deathlords' armies can punch through.

         Alseia can be found doing dishes at the mess tent today; she's put herself on every work roster, just like any other member of the troops. Up to her elbows in dirty suds, she seems oddly comfortable there, as though she's had long experience at such labor.

 

Lark would 'love' to join the fighting against the dead (again!) but lately she has acquired some uncomfortable responsibilities that she has yet to figure out how to elude gracefully. Still, a visit to Alseia is due, at the least. So the young woman lands somewhere close to the camp (out of trigger happy archers range) and walks in. After they are convinced she is not a ghost, they let even let her look for Alseia. But it still takes a while to find her, because she is not where Lark expected her to be. "Hey, Alse. Plotting strategy with the dishes?" She teases, "or using maybe the Holy-fying Dishing Technique?"

 

         Alseia smiles as Lark approaches, and shakes her head, sending her hair -- plaited out of the way today -- wiggling like a very thick, curly snake. "Not today. I find that if a leader does the same amount of work as the rest of the troops, it cuts down on arguments about the work roster," she explains earnestly. The smile spreads to her eyes as she takes in the other woman. "You've all been gone a long time; I've only seen Orduin, so far. I'm glad to see you're in one piece."

 

"Yeah, I... got in a mess." Lark bites her lower lip, "see? When we got back to Sezakan I was told about this prophecy... and they, well," sigh. She looks left and right. Then continues, "I am now the queen of the People of the Air. I need to lead them to a better future. I have almost no idea of what I am gonna do!"

 

         Alseia blinks, but does not pause; promptly wiping her hands off on a towel, she lifts her skirts and curtseys deeply. "Your majesty," she intones. "I guess that makes now not a great time to tell you about a sabotage mission I need handled in the Underworld. Let's talk about this instead." Her stack of dishes clean, she leads the way toward a more private location, the command tent. Which looks like all the other tents around it. "So, if you need to lead them to a bright future, what are the important elements of their past, that they shouldn't lose?"

 

"Oh, please, not more 'your majesty' or 'great lady'," grumbles Lark. "I need a break of all that. And I'd like to hear about what you are doing here. I have barely talked with Orduin since I got here. I have been going over old maps in Tajome, trying to find a good place to... I told them I would get them out of the frozen city in the north. It fit with the prophecy, see? So Orduin rebuilt several ancient ships using Wyld energy. The Sezakanian have sent a fleet of unstable airships with hundreds of laborers, engineers, warriors and sorcerers to find a place to build this new city. I thought after the White Sickness there would be plenty room for the in the East. But we are devout worshippers of the Sun, ruled by the laws of the First Age deliberative. I need a safe place, away from any Realm army."

 

         Alseia pushes her way into the tent, which is filled with maps and markers. "No grumbling, now," she says pleasantly, "If you are queen, /be queen/. It is part of who you are. You're always the queen. It mustn't be fought..." She looks deeply in to Lark's eyes, "But you can be queen on your terms." Listening intently to the rest of the situation, she nods, and pushes a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "So they're on their way now? How much time do we have?" Just like that, she's happy to shoulder some of the responsibility.

 

"I am a night, I can... could be anybody I wanted," yes, more grumbling. "Not much, maybe a few months. The ships won't hold together because they aren't completely real," explains Lark. "By then I want to find the place, preferably with a manse. They... I mean, we will use the power of the manse to empower the city, instead of creating a hearthstone. It seems that is the way the cities worked in the First Age. They will use some demons... Puppeteers, I think, to quickly build the structures needed. Well, that is the general plan."

 

         "I think you're missing my point," Alseia murmurs, "No matter what shape you're in, no matter what you're doing, you're still queen of your people. Always." Her smile is a little bit sad, now. "Okay, so. We need a place far from the Realm, and... wait. Power the city? How fancy a settlement do they really need to have right away?"

 

"Pretty fancy for this age, I guess," replies Lark, finding a place to sit down. "The Sezakanians have preserved quite a bit of the culture and technology of the First Age. It is a shame you had to stay, the city is nice, places like that are only ruins in the East. They can't quite recreate the city in a few years, but they are aiming to a stone city with tall towers, good walls, gardens and some magitech. I think they hope to have Orduin's help for some of the plans."

 

Alseia presses her lips together. "Well, most of Creation makes due with MUCH less, and has learned how to survive with that; maybe your people need to learn. Your society surviving the collapse of the First Age is the exception, not the rule, and I'd hate for them to be destroyed when we're gone because they were too reliant on us. I include Orduin's technology in that 'us'."

 

Lark nods, "but we have some bits of ancient technology in Sezakan that the savants have managed to keep going after fifteen centuries. I don't think we are going to vanish again for that long. I am not, at least. I can learn magitech skills if I really need to, in the case Orduin leaves the East." She sighs, "anyway, I don't think they need to make due with less. I think the rest of creation needs to make due with more. The Dragon-Blooded lost so much... although it wasn't entire their fault, they had the Raksha almost destroying creation. But now the solars are back, I think the lost magitech will be slowly recovered, and that will help to make the lives of mortals easier everywhere in Creation."

 

Alseia is silent throughout the speech. When she speaks again, it's in an agreeable tone. "It would be nice for the mortals of Creation to have better lives. Still, the people of Sezakan might want to know what life is like outside their longtime bubble... these are discussions to have with them, not with me. Perhaps you should delay the construction of a permanent settlement until the design can incorporate what -they- suggest?"

 

"I can do that if I have to," admits Lark, "they will do everything I say, but I really don't want to give them orders, Alse. The leaders of the Sezakanians are so much older than me. Some of them are centuries old Dragon-Blooded. They are like, like living legends for the People of the Air, I don't feel mightier than them, much less wiser."

 

"Then the best advice I can give you is to learn from them, and listen to them. And if too many years in isolation has made them pigheaded, do your own thing anyway. Certainly, though, building a new home for an entire people without their input seems..." Alseia doesn't finish the sentence, there are lots of good words for it, and Lark can pick the one she wants. "So. Anyway, I advise against the Hundred Kingdoms for the final site, too close to Greyfalls, and the slave trade that runs through Nexus and Great Forks. If they're all as distinctive looking as you, they'll be tremendous targets."

 

Lark smirks, "they are. Pigheaded and distinctive. Like me. Isolationists, too. But I will work in that one, because I don't want them hoarding all that First Age lore while the rest of the world lives in darkness." The winged girl jumps back to the floor and starts pacing, obviously a bit nervous. "So, my cunning plan is this: find a place. Preferably with a manse. A demesne works, because I know Orduin can build a manse in weeks. Then help them build the city they want. And do no ruler ship stuff unless I am absolutely sure that what they plan is not going to work. Because right now I think I am the Sezakanian with more knowledge about the world outside Sezakan." She looks at Alseia, "what do you think?"

 

Alseia takes a seat on the edge of the table -- there are no chairs -- and sighs, crossing her feet at the ankle. Her gaze is level, her tone serene with an edge of concern. "I think you need to ask yourself what /you/ want, Lark. For yourself and for your people. You sound... really unhappy."

 

Lark stops pacing and looks, yes, unhappy. "It is just... like having shackles, you know? I feel bound and unable to... just fly away. But I also feel I need to do this and do it flawlessly." She runs a hand through her hair, "I wish I could have a few more years, see? I knew when the Sun Almighty chose me that I would be called to do some very important tasks. I didn't expect the fate of my people to be trusted to me. I didn't expect something so... important for me," she almost chokes. "Gods, it is as if I can't breathe when I stop to think."

 

Alseia looks sympathetic, but she tries to cut through the misery with a razor knife of logical query. "Why do you feel you need to do this, and flawlessly? If you're so unhappy, why not abdicate?"

 

Lark shakes her head, "I can't do that, it would be cowardly, and the prophecy could fail. I wouldn't be happy if I quit, either." But she is pretty stressed up, obviously. "It has to be flawless because if it is not flawless someone can die. I can't fuck this up because it is not just me who would get hurt, see?"

 

Alseia tilts her head to one side quizzically. Her words are steady, relentless. "It's not cowardly to quit a job you're unsuited for, as long as you give the organization time to refill the position. Screw the prophecy. Solars break Fate all the time, that's what Orduin claims, anyway. If you take on the burden of your people with an unsteady resolve, an unhappy heart, that is the -worst thing possible for them-. How long before your resentment turns to abuse?"

 

Lark shakes her head, "it is not the first time I have job I dislike, I..." she pauses, frowning slightly. "Okay, so maybe it is in this life. Maybe I can quit, once they are all settled and safe. Although making the world safe is also something we have to do anyway." With kung-fu is easier than with laws and royal commands, though. "Some Lawgiver I am," she adds irritated. "No, I can't quit my exaltation."

 

"You /are/ a chosen of the Sun, and that means you can do whatever the heck you want. We both know that our Exaltation isn't inherently tied to acts of heroism, or to making Creation a better place. I do think you might be kind of wasted on a throne, though. There's so much more you can offer the world than halfhearted decisionmaking, so much more you can do." Alseia shrugs, moving her hands to the sides. "But if you don't think you are -- if you 'wouldn't be happy if you quit', as you put it, because you /want/ to be Queen... then you need to get into it, and you need to do your best. Your people deserve that."

 

Lark blinks slowly at Alseia's words, "what? Of course it is. The Sun chose us, we are to bring His light to the world. Justice and order, and to punish the wicked. It is in the holy scriptures," which Lark was raised learning, no doubt written by the theologians of the First Age. The girl received a truly classical education. "Do you want to be queen of Thorns, Alseia? Don't you want to free your people of that dead monster? And then give them the best lives you can? Well, I do too! I want my people outside the frozen North, living in a place where they can grow and prosper, and be happy. And if that means I need to be the queen, then I will be the queen they need!"

 

Alseia's face closes like a door. It slams shut, erecting a barrier of adamant over a TREMENDOUS pile of pain, and her voice turns to ice worthy of the frozen North in question. "I hope those questions were rhetorical." She stands up from the table and draws herself to her full height, which seems far taller than it really is from her presence, and a FLOOD of words pour out. "You came to me upset because you're now a Queen -- feeling shackled by responsibility. I don't think you really want to listen to what I'm telling you -- that you have options, that you may not NEED to be queen to help them the most. Consult your holy scriptures about the role of a Night Caste in the running of a kingdom in the First Age, if you're going to draw upon them for support. We both know what you're good at," she holds up fingers as she names the traits, "sneaking around, disguise, gathering information, and kicking peoples' ass. I think those are the ways that you can best help your people, and those ways are frankly incompatible with sitting on a throne, most of the time. All I'm trying to do is help you think of another path, if you want one." She takes a breath, and finishes firmly: "So, if you're determined to do this, stop whining about it. Or at least don't complain around me. Or your people. Ever. The last thing they need is to feel like a burden to you. I, on the other hand, just don't want to hear it. I'm busy freeing my people of a dead monster, too busy to hear the complaints of a ruler whose largest concern for their people is their relocation to warmer climes while maintaining their First Age luxuries. Not too busy to help, though, when you're ready to act. Let me know."

 

Lark looks a bit shocked by Alseia's words. "I thought I could tell you, because you are my friend," she protests. "I guess... I'll have to find someone else to listen to my doubts, my whining, as you say." She walks to the tent entrance. "I will do my duty, and right now my duty is helping my people find a new home. They need a queen, even if they don't need a ruler."

 

"And, like I said, I'll see what I can come up with. The tapestry of Creation holds many secrets..." Alseia's eyes grow distant for a moment, before they snap back into focus. She doesn't sound angry anymore. "I heard your doubts. I suppose if you simply want an attentive ear, and no advice, I could listen more. It's just... difficult," she explains softly.

 

Lark turns back to Alseia, looking torn, and tired. "No, I think you have a point. But right now I need to be there. Even if I am just a figurehead, they are full of hope. I... they were trapped, I didn't know when I lived there how trapped we were. The city couldn't grow, and people died young, trying to bring food from the wastes, or murdered by the Raksha. Now... the East is not a peaceful land, no, but at least they will have choices."

 

Alseia nods. "Then be their hope. Make sure THEY get to make some of those choices, not just you," she suggests simply. "Excuse me, but there are reports I need to hear." Sure enough, a group of scouts have arrayed outside the tent, politely waiting until the current business within is finished.

 

Lark nods, looking apprehensive, "very well, then I will go. I need to talk with Orduin again. Take care, Alse," she scampers out of the tenth, but magically loses all her wariness and hesitance by the time the soldiers can see her, instead offering them a bright smile. "Sorreee to keep the lady busy so long. I just, y'know, important stuff, but I am gone now. You be good to her, neh?"

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