The Game

The ahn was later than I expected when I departed Siminus's residence. I did not object for I was in no position to be anything but grateful that Scribe agreed to meet with me on such short notice. As his slave led me to where he reclined against the plush pillows I was taken aback by his appearance, the offering of his preferred pastries made as I attempted to hide my concern at the way he had clearly let himself go, strained was the warmth of his charming smile, vacant was the lustrous robes of royal blue, the life gone from his green eyes. The wave of regret palpable concerning my own behavior, I knew that he had suffered in the lose of his only son, I didn't however realize that he hadn't been able to fully recover. Seeing him I wonder if anyone can fully recover the lose of their child. A parents worst nightmare is to outlive their own children. I can't even being to imagine it. It is something I pray I never have to face.
In light of the fact, I already sent forth word concerning the documents I wished him to prepare, there was no need for me to waste time going over them, instead I went into the kitchens allowing him to put the final touches upon the parchments. I planned on simply laying out the pastries on the small platter, I decided instead to fix him a decent meal, suddenly in no real rush to depart.
Over a crafe of shared wine, bread and aged cheese, we quietly conversed as the hearty stew simmered upon the stove. The bonds of our relationship extends far past the City we now call home, the Karian blood that runs thru our veins, defines the length of our acquaintance. We spoke of better times, my father and my sons, we even shared a few laughs at my fathers expense.
I felt a sense of reluctance as I readied to depart. A real part of me wanted to remain, locked away behind the weathered ash colored door, reliving a time that was far more simpler than the one I currently face. His offer to walk me home touched my heart, I declined not wishing for the prepared meal to grow cold in his absence, the coin he refused to accept placed upon the entry table before I departed the 'Walled Road Residence'.


My thoughts revolved around Tynan and Seth as I walked home. The crisp night air welcomed, it spoke of the approaching changing seasons. The choice to wear the lightweight cloak a wise one, the hood drawn up as I approached the stone bridge, in no real hurry to return back home, the gears of my mind shifting to the recently composed documents as I arrived at the gathered group watching the kaissa players. It intrigues me, attempting to read the facial features of the players involved, trying to anticipate or seek out any flaws based on their behavior. In this I was disappointed as they both appeared stoic and unemotional, one man I recognized, several nights ago I saw him along the Insula of Achiates, I only recall him because of the limp he sported. Among the crowd of onlookers, I spotted the dark skinned slave, owned by the Poet. I found her to be the perfect receptacle to unleash my growing frustration concerning the deteriorating Scribe, the brief crack on her facial features mirroring her true emotions, provided the perfect excuse, not that I needed one. The control I held over the lewd animal, pleased me and amused me. I find a slaves such as herself, arrogantly smug, overly confident creatures, occasionally need to be reined in by a feminine hand, lest they become to complacent in our presence. Something that is bound to happen when owned and primarily kept within the company of men. I consider myself magnanimous in this time staking endeavor.

Once I tired, the dark skinned animal released from her servitude with the instructions that I wished to speak with her Owner. The call of an equally yet far more dangerous dark skinned woman drew my attention. The final outcome of the Game lost upon me I studied the woman. The news of her demise apparently incorrect. I hold no personal grudge against the woman, my only concern upon seeing her was the validity of my sources concerning the incorrect information. The sound of her oddly familiar greeting, later studied as settled into my furs, it spoke of a deeper relationship than simply her occasional patronage to my shop several months before. It bears definite consideration. My approach to the woman thru the crowd cut short by the rush of cool air that swept across my ankles, it pains me to openly admit this even within these private pages but I lost my composure, spinning around seeking out the source of the ill gotten breeze, without going into details I shall leave it at that. I would however dare say that most would have been as surprised as I was, I tell myself now that their own reaction would follow the same path if not worse to come face to face with the chained sleen. The commander of such a fierce looking beast, none other than the illustrious Poet. I did not plan on such swift results by the dark skinned slave, fortune indeed sought her out atop the stone landing. My bag containing the recently composed documents retrieved, the irony of such unable to be savored as I came face to face with him. I should have most likely addressed the fact that I had unexpectedly met up with Noemi in the dress shop, instead I studied him for any sign of knowledge that he was aware of what had transpired, all the while making conversation about the shipment of olives. It would be his words that I told a tale I was reluctant to hear, his tone sharper than normal, I told myself as I left that it had only been my guilt that made me associate his words with my own deceit. In this I can not be sure.

According to the terms set forth, I shall meet with Noemi this evening at the Inn. I shall attend the meeting armed with not only the terms of our agreement. I will use her obvious hatred towards the Poet to my advantage. The documents ready, laying out my intention of becoming temporary proprietor to her vacant cafe. The demand passable, met with the expected sound of her own boisterous laughter, it was like music to my ears, I thrive upon being underestimated for it only serves to confirm the public perception of my true character. The study of a different type of game continued, the only difference beyond the stakes in this pawn prefers pink.